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[three-realms-archive]

A Rainy-Day Indulgence

Main Characters: Simeon, Reader

Genre: Fluffy and romantic, with just a touch of deep thoughts

“Simeon…” You chide half-heartedly as arms wrap around your waist, gently lifting you up and over a puddle. Raindrops patter against the ground in a chorus that harmonises with the wind, whistling through the air. It’s normal rain, for once - not the weird, Devildom kind - and the water feels cool and familiar as it splashes against your face. Simeon knows what rain is, obviously. But his brows are furrowed as he concentrates on guiding you over and around the puddles - glancing at them so distrustfully that it makes you laugh.

Simeon loves your laugh, which makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. What he loves less, however, is seeing your soaked shirt clinging to your torso and the streams of rain water running down your forehead and dripping down strands of your hair. You’re sure to catch a cold in the morning and, yet, you look so happy.

So happy that he can’t help himself.

“Fine, fine.” He chuckles when you run off, as soon as he’s set you down. He lets you pull him with you to frolic in the downpour, gasping slightly when you throw your arms around his neck to attempt what Simeon eventually understands to be a slow dance. His own hands find their way to your shoulders, steadying you both as you sway and stumble through your rainy-day waltz. It’s messy, and is definitely going to render your human body sick tomorrow… but Simeon can’t help himself. Not when your laughing that laugh and smiling that wonderful, enchanting smile. “Is this a thing humans do? Dancing in the rain and catching colds after?”

You pout, squinting up at him unflatteringly through the raindrops in your lashes. He thinks you’ve never looked more captivating.

“I’ll have you know, humans think it’s romantic. To dance and kiss in the rain.”

He smiles. There’s something more behind it… Just a glint. “I guess I’m not typically one to pass up indulging… when it comes to you.”

Slowly, his fingers smooth over your sleeves and down your arms, tracing your skin with his fingertips and committing the curves to memory. Eventually, his hands land on your waist - and he shudders… Not from the rain, but from the jolt of bliss that races through his body like lightning. An electric ecstasy fills his being.

Simeon’s mind flashes through memories of times that felt familiar to this. Times where he’d indulge a little too much; like eating a little too many of Luke’s sweet treats, or testing the waters by writing a scene a little too intimately in his novels. Thoughts of gluttony, thoughts of lust. Thoughts of sin.

But when you lean up, straining on the tips of your toes to press a sloppy, rain-coated kiss into the crook of his neck…

And when your hold around his neck becomes tighter, your embrace spreading warmth through his body…

And when the words ’I love you’ spill from your soft lips, which smile into his skin…

… Simeon sends a silent prayer to above as he falls for the temptation of indulging in you, desperate to know if sin was supposed to feel this heavenly.

(no spoilers, buttttttttttttttttttttttttt inspired by some recent, simeon-related things 👀)

(usually simeon and sin end up being quite a angsty topic in fics for this fandom, but i did want a nice, romantic moment associated with it - kind of blurring the line between sin and movie-perfect moment) (shout out to every movie with a scene where the main love interests kiss/dance/do things in the rain)

[three-realms-archive]

hey, hey!

it’s been a while! apologies for not posting much recently - been swamped with work and similarly tiring things 🥺

been also playing rune factory 4 and 5 again to help, but mooooooostly it’s been work D: i will try and keep posting, though!

my well of inspo has dried up, so if you have any ideas put em in the idea box

even if it’s just a single word it’ll probably help a lot ahaha

anyway stay cool and hydrated and rested :D

[three-realms-archive]

First Dates

(so! what would first dates with each of the brothers be like??? i feel like obm! and otome games like it in general tend to skip over things like this, so hey have this)

(slighttttttttttttt lesson 16 og obm! reference)

An eldest brother stands in his room, torn. Pride takes on many forms, it seems; and the Avatar of Pride has to make a choice.

Does he show you off, as he so desperately wants to, and parade you around the Devildom’s fanciest areas with extravagant dinners, popular theatre, and breathtaking views? Or does he keep you to himself, as he so desperately wants to, to snuggle with you under his covers after a romantic movie and a bottle of Demonus?

It’s a tough choice to make; but it also shouldn’t be, for someone as thorough as he is. So why, then, does he struggle? Why, when it comes to you, is it always so… difficult?

No. Lucifer knows this isn’t the right way to think of things. You make nothing difficult. You’ve brought his family back together; you’ve brought light to his grieving, shadowed heart… you’ve made everything as easy as breathing.

What the Avatar of Pride is too prideful to admit is that he is the one - for once - doubting his choices; all in the hopes of pleasing you.

_

A second-oldest brother sits in his bed, buzzing as he clutches his D.D.D - checking it every five seconds. He is two hours early, already-dressed, as he contends with his ever-magnetic pull towards you. He could show up two hours early. Maybe it’ll impress you, earning him more points on his imaginary first-date scoreboard.

Or he could wait the two hours out. Maybe it would creep you out less?

Regardless, Mammon's grip on his phone strengthens as he re-opens the app he also keeps checking - his mail app. He makes sure the tickets to the amusement park are still there, before searching for the amusement park website on the DevilNet to make sure it still exists. And then he searches through the rides to make sure the ferris wheel is still there because that’s where all the human movie couples have kisses and confessions and oh, Diavolo, if he keeps thinking about you and him doing romantic movie couple things he’s going to completely explode.

And so - the dopey, dreamy, dorky smile on the his face growing as he practically vibrates with anticipation - the Avatar of Greed sets down his D.D.D and waits.

… Until five seconds pass and he surrenders to the temptation of picking up his phone, checking everything once more.

_

A third-eldest brother talks to himself in the mirror. His ramblings are a mixture of practice pick-up lines, self-assurance, and self-deprecation at the practice pick-up lines.

It’s Levi's comfort zone. It should be his comfort zone, taking you to a local anime and gaming convention in the human world. It should be something he can navigate with ease… but then he looks at the polaroid he has taped to the top of his mirror. It’s of the two of you; you had secretly taken a selfie when he had fallen asleep after an all-night anime marathon, placing your chin on his shoulder and nuzzling your cheek against him. He had thanked Diavolo that you had left before he had opened his birthday card from you that same month; the polaroid falling unexpectedly out of the envelope, short-circuiting him.

Every so often, like now, he looks in the mirror and imagines your head on his shoulder once more - but, this time, with his wide-awake reflection standing beside you. Maybe even holding your hand.

And... he promptly short-circuits again, shaking his head as the inevitable thoughts of 'that would never happen' and 'you would never want that' flood his head.

This was going to take more than a few minutes of mirror practice.

_

A fourth-eldest brother reads, and reads, and reads. Books, dictionaries, gossip tabloids… All with ridiculous names like “Win Her Heart in Seven Steps” and “Flowchart to His Heart”. It’s what Satan falls back onto whenever he feels something unfamiliar and unknown: read, research, react. Read the material, research what to do, react accordingly.

He had invited you out to a cat café in the afternoon. He had read an advertisement for a couples’ promotion the café were running that week, booking a table in advance. He had researched the place thoroughly: the menus, the cat breeds, the seating arrangements... the cat breeds. Then, the day had come - and it was time to react.

… Except, he hadn’t checked the weather. So now the two of you are at the cat café; soaked so thoroughly that no cat wants to go near either of you.

You guess some things in life just happen unexpectedly no matter how much you plan, you say to console him as an apologetic manager walks over with a towel and a small litter of more-adventurous kittens. After drying off, the two of you begin to play with the kittens, who crawl up your clothes and mewl adorably. The Avatar of Wrath is rendered speechless by your smile.

You’re right, he realises. After all, he hadn’t planned for you to come to the Devildom.

And he couldn’t be happier that you did.

_

An objectively-fabulous, fifth-born brother seems confused by his own actions. He is objectively fabulous, put together, and always, always sure of himself. He’s never had this many clothes on hangers strewn across his bed before; mind working overtime as it imagines the different pattern and colour combinations on his body. He’s worn that shirt too many times in front of you. Those pants just don’t match the restaurant you’re going to. He can’t even decide between gold and silver jewellery - an easy decision that always comes naturally to him.

It’s not like he’s lost his touch. He knows what goes well with what… But when he imagines you looking at him, the self-doubt begins to rise uncomfortably in his chest.

… And, now, he hears you knocking on the door. And then, for the first time in his life as a demon, he walks to the door in the outfit he already has on.

And when he hears you gush over his outfit, his hair and he face… he can’t help but blush when an amazing, incredible realisation hits him.

You’d always love him - however he looked.

You’d always love him for who he was.

_

A sixth-born brother apologises profusely to yet another team member trying to navigate the RAD locker room. The demon waves him off with an understanding smile and a pat on the back… as do all the other demons on the RAD Fangol team, who also inevitably bump into the sixth-born Avatar of Sin. He’s unusually distracted, clumsy and talkative; but his team all know why.

“Hey, do I look okay?”

“Do you think coach remembers I’m going early?”

“Forecast said 1% precipitation on TV this morning. Should I move the date inside?”

All of his Fangol team - and probably all of RAD - know about his date. This is half-because he won’t stop talking about it to people he meets; and half-because his unusual, dazed behaviour makes it impossible for someone to not want to find out.

“Do you know I have a date tonight?” He asks for the umpteenth time to some old lady sitting next to him on the park bench he’s meant to wait for you at. The elderly demon feeds the crows, unresponsive - but not without a knowing, fond smile on her face. She doesn’t dare interrupt his happiness as he continues to excitedly run his plans by her; talking and talking and talking because, if he doesn’t, the hunger to see you consumes him.

When he sees you… That is when he finally becomes speechless.

_

The youngest of seven brothers zooms from place to place, making sure to cover all the ground in his bedroom. He meticulously - almost obsessively -removes anything sharp, anything spooky-looking, and even his twin brother’s open snack packets all get ziplocked or clipped shut.

The former monster of the attic cannot risk making you uncomfortable. He has a chance - one, single, precious chance - at something his brothers all had managed long before he came along:

One shot to earn your forgiveness.

One shot to be in the running for your heart.

Even this single date had come months after he had… done what he did. He wasn’t complaining, though. At first, he had considered the fact that you had looked his way at all a bout of incredible luck. When you had started conversing with him again, it was a miracle. And when you had asked him out on a date… it was no longer outside forces. Unless it was some stupid, twisted joke - or a blissful, bittersweet dream - this date was a chance.

So the Avatar of Sloth diligently fends off the alluring, drowsy pull of his sin; checking every nook and cranny of his room before you come over for a movie night and sleepover.

He cannot waste this chance.

(hey hey hey, sorry for the inactivity - i'm so so busy omfg. as a result, uploads might start slowing down or might be limited to headcannons and short snippets that come to mind; i'm also gonna start focusing the next few on the side characters for once ahahaha. anyways, have a good day people :D)

[three-realms-archive]

Was Never Your First, After All

Genre: Angst, Oneshot Fic

Characters: Mammon, MC, other Obey Me! Brothers mentioned briefly.

If there was something Mammon prided himself on being, and constantly strove to be, it was your first man. Only he could be your first in anything and everything.

It was all he had; especially with Satan and Lucifer’s knowledge on everything, Asmo and Levi’s interest in human world media and trends, and Beel and Belphie’s little-brother cuteness. It was a dog-eat-dog world when it came to your attention; but there was one thing Mammon would always have over his brothers, and he treasured it dearly.

The Avatar of Greed was your first man. Your first pact. Your first friendly demon, who had been your knight in 24-karat gold armour from the start. And, true to that that title (and to his general greatness), Mammon had strove to be your first in all other aspects, too. He was there at your first movie night in the Devildom - the TSL marathon with Beel. He had gone with you to a café near RAD for your very first Devildom coffee. Granted, you had hated it so much and had scrunched your face up so tight he had almost tried to bring you to the emergency room in fear that you had stopped breathing… But! Still your first coffee.

He had been your first friend in the Devildom, too. You had told him such in a birthday card, even referring to him as your ‘first man’. And, though it was probably a joking reference to what he always said… it hadn’t stopped Hell’s second-born Lord from cutting out the snippets of that handwritten birthday card which had made his face go red, gluing them onto a smaller piece of card, and keeping it in his wallet. Secretly. So it was always with him; from the moment he woke up, to the moment he checked the wallet with a goofy grin before bed.

So, armed with solid, MC-approved evidence, Mammon went about his days secure in the fact that he would always be your first in everything.

… Until now.

Stupid human. Not you, of course, but a different human who had broken into Serenity Manor, stolen all your coffee, and was now holding you hostage.

That was: your childhood friend, who you had invited over for a movie night at Serenity Manor, currently drinking coffee you had offered him.

School break meant trips to the human world; naturally, with the Avatars of Sin right beside you. However, whilst out on errands, you had spotted a childhood friend of yours whilst shopping at the grocery store. Within just a few minutes, you were chatting with him as if no time had passed at all; and you had taken the opportunity to invite him over to rewatch an old movie, since he had expressed that he was only in the area for a few days more.

Mammon had really, really tried to listen to Lucifer and Beelzebub when they had attempted to calm down their family in the kitchen - just one room over from the living room, where you and your friend were engrossed in the movie. Asmo and Levi had pouted and whined sorrowfully, whilst Satan and Belphie had jealous, irritated scowls. Unusually, Mammon hadn’t said much. It made sense in his head. He and his brothers were used to being the closest to you in your life. It’s definitely what you were to them. You were meant to be their closest friend. You were meant to be their family.

You were meant to be… his first special person.

But it made sense, Mammon thought, that you had a life before them, with other humans - that was just common sense, and he had plenty of that.

So here Mammon was now, in the opposite corner of the living room to you and your friend, trying to will himself to listen to his mind instead of his heart. He had wanted to be better than his brothers, who were stropping and sulking around the house. He had thought maybe he’d look more big-brotherly. That he’d get to look cooler, in front of you.

… That was an hour ago. Since then, you hadn’t even noticed that he had entered the room.

“More coffee?” Your friend piped up, grabbing the jug of iced coffee set on a small table beside you. Jealousy gripped Mammon’s heart like a vice at the sight before him: you and your friend huddled too close under a blanket, the TV screen illuminating your smiling, happy faces. Mammon scoffed internally at your friend’s suggestion, though. You never had coffee in the Devildom. You hated coffee.

Although, this time, you nodded eagerly instead; raising your glass to your friend and letting him fill it to the brim before chugging half of it down in one, satisfying gulp.

“Thanks, man. I absolutely love this coffee.” You said, grinning. Mammon’s eyes widened in shock. “Do you remember when you made me my first coffee at your ma’s? It was so, so good…”

Mammon felt his heart drop, confusion and self-berating flooding his mind and screaming in his thoughts. One word repeated itself, over and over:

First.

First.

First.

Your friend.

Your first.

Mammon barely registered your friend - your stupid, dumb, charming friend - chuckle amicably your reminiscing. “Yeah, those were the days, huh? I think we probably watched this movie for the first time the day after, right? Or was it the week after…?”

You laugh, touching your friend’s shoulder in a way which made Mammon’s irritation flare up wildly. Greed pumped through his veins, surging - accompanied by a primal, raw feeling of competitiveness. “I don’t know! We did a lot of stupid stuff for the first time - we were just kids.”

Amused, your friend raised an eyebrow. “You make us sound like troublemakers, man. We weren’t that dumb - and we turned out pretty okay, right?”

“Sure.” You joke. “It’s alright to admit that we were a bit wild, though. I guess you can’t help being reckless when you make your first friend.”

Your friend watches you laugh, with a fond smile that grips Mammon’s heart like a vice and twists it violently.

He thinks he sees the colour red flush across your friend’s cheek.

Mammon decides to leave, heading to his room; his chest constricting and his stomach feeling like it was churning.

He all but sprints up the stairs, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it. Nervousness and nauseousness flooded his body. Something wet was pooling in the corners of his eyes but he clamped his eyelids shut, rubbing at them furiously. Yet, even in the darkness of nothingness, Mammon couldn’t escape the images of you and your friend; drinking coffee at cafés together; cuddling under blankets, watching movies together; holding hands together; getting closer; faces closer; lips touching -

A few minutes passed. The rise and fall of his chest began to slow as he waited. And, though it took some time, eyes eventually became dry again.

If there was something Mammon prided himself on, and constantly strove to be, it was your first man. But, as it turns out, he couldn’t even be that.

If Mammon wasn’t your first in anything… then what was he to you?

Your first friend in the Devildom? What did that matter? You were probably freaked out of your mind seeing non-humans for the first time, probably missing the humans that looked like your childhood friend. Probably missing your childhood friend.

Your first pact? Mammon had to be tricked into his pact, and you needed the pact for both Belphie and your own safety. Being your first friend meant both your childhood friend and you had met and mutually agreed to grow closer to each other; to learn more about one another; to be there for each other. It might as well have been a proper pact.

And what was left?

Your first man?

How could Mammon be your first man, when someone else had already taken all your firsts?

Mammon sighed, forcing himself to puff out his chest and stride over to his closet. Suddenly, he felt like going out shopping. Somewhere expensive, with trendy clothes to cover up his emerging insecurities, and coffee shops to drown all the bitter thoughts stirring in his mind. Absentmindedly, his hand reached into his pocket to fetch his wallet, so he could check how much cash he had for his impromptu retail therapy session. It would all be fine. He’d go out, glow up, remind himself of how great he was, and forget why you would would ever even compare that lowly human to a literal Lord of Hell, like himself. A demon with money, charm and devilishly-handsome looks. That would be enough, he willed himself to think. It had to be enough.

Opening his wallet was a mistake.

The card - the one with snippets of his birthday card from you - fluttered out of his wallet, landing gently on the floor. His eyes briefly caught the first sentence.

You had said he was your first friend…

… in the Devildom.

He didn’t read the second part of that sentence, however. He knew what came next, and it wasn’t like it was important. First friend, that’s what was important. The rest hadn’t affected him at all.

It hadn’t affected him, which is definitely why he slammed his wallet shut and left it behind on his desk, taking out his credit card and ID. They were the only things he’d need, after all. He would open the door, leave his room and get out of the house for a deserved shopping spree. Unaffected.

Mammon didn’t need to be your first.

… And that’s exactly what he told himself over and over, as he broke down into tears; not having been able to bring himself to even turn the handle of his bedroom door.

Instead he sunk to the floor, curled up into a ball, and sobbed uncontrollably into the screaming silence of his bedroom.

(mammon next on my angst list, which is still the most requested genre after a week of polling! My second ever post had him breaking a vase in a hotel and now we have this lol)

(the first man thing is something mammon uses as a bit of a crutch in both canon and fanfiction. it’s a romantic line, its an excuse, its an identity, its all of that. i think its a nice, telling part of mammon’s character, and i tried expanding on it with other firsts. however, what if you took that away from him? and u get the idea for this fic. hope y’all enjoyed!)

(I’m also going to start putting genre and character stuff at the start, so people can easily know what they’re getting into. let me know if i should add anything to it)

[three-realms-archive]

Relent

Belphegor waking up early isn’t entirely a normal thing.

Not unless it’s his turn.

Seven days in a week. And seven brothers spend their school vacation living in one Serenity Manor, with the human they love usually busy on errands. In the human world, the way the clothing shops, the grocery stores and the public transport all worked was so different to the Devildom - so it was typically up to you to go out in the morning and run chores. It was just faster that way; since not even Lucifer enjoyed fiddling with the buttons on the self-checkout screen very much.

That meant your mornings were packed. And, after much debate - and an enchantment preventing anyone from covertly changing the schedule hung up on the fridge for just this purpose - it was decided that you would wake up one brother each day of the week.

And today was Sunday. A whole six days, Belphie had to wait.

So he would make sure to milk his day for all it was worth - with the new, super-smart, super-sneaky plan he had spent all of yesterday putting together. It was concrete, fool-proof - and did he mention super-smart?

Because it was super, super smart.

“MC…” He whined as the door creaked open, slowly sitting up in bed. Out of the corner of his eye, Belphie peeked at the clock on the wall. 7am; two hours after he had actually woken up. You walked into his room, soft-footed as to not disturb the usually-asleep Avatar of Sloth.

Right on time.

He feigned sluggishness, nudging his blanket off his body with slow, deliberate movements. He even threw in a few, throaty coughs, for good measure. “MC… I don’t feel so well…”

He watched as your eyes widened, placing what you held in your hands down on his desk and immediately rushing to his side. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered with glee when he realised you had set down a tray of breakfast, made just for him… and he thanked the stars he could pass the blush spreading like wildfire on his cheeks as part of his pretend fever. Sighing contentedly, he let you coo and hover over him, not even needing to persuade you to climb under the covers and cradle him in your arms. He snuggled his head into your chest and squeezed you as tight as he could, savouring his success. Victory!

And the best part was, you had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

…

… You one-hundred percent knew what Belphegor was doing. It was his ‘super-smart’ plan; the one he always used when he wanted you to get into bed with him, or when he wanted an excuse to cuddle you longer. The first, few times he had feigned ignorance. Stubborn in denial, he insisted that he had a very, very bad fever; that he was very, very ill; and that he very, very much needed someone to take care of him.

So, like now, you relent and play along. After all - it’s not an entirely bad thing to have the demon you love press feather-light kisses up your neck, tracing his nose along your jaw. Groggy mumbles about how warm you are and how amazing you are made your face heat up and your heart beat faster.

And when Belphie smiled up at you, with a boyish smile shining as bright and beautiful as starlight, you both forgot to keep up your silly, little, pretend acts.

And you both realised that, when it comes to one another, you would always relent.

(current second place in the poll is fluff, so here it is - giving Belphie some love after starting an entire series dedicated to lesson 16 lollll. it's belphie being sleepy, petty and cuddle-y; and, really, what more could you ask for?)

[three-realms-archive]

Just a Study

Content Warning: Spoilers for Lesson 40 of Nightbringer! Everything above the cut is spoiler-free!

The wise sorcerer watches his dear apprentice sleep peacefully, unaware of their close friend and mentor doing what he does best. Studying.

His eyes analyse the rise and fall of their chest, tracing his gaze over and across the parabolas that make up the shape of their sleeping form. The small chuckles that escape him when you snore and snort are sounds that you will never get to hear. The soft, unprecedented flushes of crimson across his cheeks when you nuzzle your forehead deeper into the crook of his neck is a sight you will never get to see. Yet your sounds, sights and touch… Solomon knows all of it. He knows the mean, median and mode of the number of hours you sleep at night; and he spends the midnight hours flipping through tomes dedicated to understanding love. To Solomon, this was all a study, really.

A study on how it would have been, if he had taken the time to know his fellow, human classmate from the get-go. How it would have been if he had taken you under his wing sooner - if he had won the race for your heart against the Seven Avatars of Sin. The data was there, in the form of the pact marks etched into your skin - placed there like perfect puzzle pieces. And no matter how much his brain wanted to process that data differently, the results and conclusion would remain unchanged.

To conduct a study, one must try to match the conditions of the experiment to the assumptions of the theory. Solomon knew this, and so he had strived to make Coctyus Hall your new House of Lamentation. He had lived with you - had eaten with you - had even slept beside you. He knew that you (more often that he liked) had shared a bed with each of the brothers before - so he had done that, too. He had taken your trip to the past as an opportunity to replicate the theory with ease, piecing together a domestic life with you that felt like bliss.

The perfect study.

It was meant to be the perfect study. For him and you.

So why?

Why did it hurt so bad, returning to the original timeline; and seeing how… easily, you fell back into your own life?

Why did it hurt, seeing you live, eat and sometimes even sleep alongside the brothers again?

Why did it hurt, sleeping beside you in your old room, when he had already shared a bed with you many times now? It hurt being with you, in this bed made for one, the pillows and blankets and your shifting form taking up room and pushing him out. Telling him that he didn’t belong next to you.

… The wise sorcerer watches his dear apprentice sleep; studying. He presses his lips gently to your temple and savours the familiar warmth that greets him, fondly. He selfishly, childishly, hooks an arm and a leg around you; entangling himself in you as you had done many times before with him. He easily finds your hand through touch alone under a blanket colder than the one you used to share; struggling to intertwine his fingers with yours properly. But he grips your hand like a lifeline when he manages to. He’s got the lines of your palm and the creases of the skin of your wrists memorised. With a small, shaky breath, Solomon uses his thumb to trace over them again, and again, and again. Studying.

It was just a study, right? A ‘what if’.

Just a study, with a simple title.

What if, for a while, he pretended you loved him?

A study compares the theoretical with the experimental. Compares the ideal with harsh, painful, hurtful reality.

You belonged with the brothers. They were your ideal.

… And his brief, domestic, blissful experiment with you was now over.

(i had started writing this before seeing that angest was ruling the poll, lol. but yayyyyyy i wanna start writing angst and romance with the characters i haven’t touched on yet, so have an angst solomon, set after lesson 40 of nightbringer)

[three-realms-archive]

yo peeps need some inspo

so tell me below

would like to know what the masses want more of

[three-realms-archive]

Debuting Change

Steps echo throughout the Demon Lord’s castle ballroom, light and heavy and foreboding. At the top of the grand staircase at the front of the room is a hulking, menacing canine - fearsome, fierce and three-headed. Someone has tapped their spoon against their flute of complimentary, aged Demonus - courtesy of the Demon Prince on this special occasion. The striking sound of metal tapping against glass had conducted the room into silence… But no one knows who made the noise.

… A hooded figure, donning a garment which shimmers as though made with sunlight, appears at the top of the staircase.

“Cerberus, dear. Do put on a smile.” They say, voice dripping with an alluring sweetness. They make their way over to Hell’s hound, caressing his fur. Slowly, their fingers move along and under Cerberus’ chin; like honey pouring out of a jar. A thick, lingering tension spills into the room as the crowd, filled with nobles from Diavolo’s court, notice the flute of Demonus and small spoon held in one of their hands. Smiling sweetly, they continue to coo at their obedient companion. “The Crown Prince has guests, Cerberus. Come down with me to greet them.”

The hoard of nobles erupt in hushed whispers and unsavoury observations - silenced only when Diavolo, who stands with his ever-loyal butler at the foot of the staircase - laughs heartily, pushing Barbatos forward.

“Ah - what an entrance, MC! Barbatos.” He orders, bringing silence to the room once more. “Go assist them. See to it our guest of honour’s needs are met.”

“Yes, young master.” The demon butler bows deeply, making his way up the stairs and to their side. As both hound and human are led down the stairs, the light from the chandelier above reaches the human’s skin.

Diavolo grins at the expressions he sees on the faces of the demons around him. Some are horrified, some intrigued, some in wonder. He takes a moment to appreciate the fresh, new entertainment. After all… It had been a while since any of these stuffy, ancient demons had ever seen change.

And as he watches the seven pact marks adorning your body glowing brightly under the light, finally revealed to all, he makes sure to thank you with a big, grateful smile.

With you around, his kingdom could finally start changing.

(i like to imagine diavolo debuting mc - they come to the devildom as a fish out of water initially, but they gain a weirdly insane amount of power through the pacts and all these supernatural beings that favour them lol. op mc is my favourite to write; not really op as in being able to do any magic, but op just by what is canon: they have seven avatars of sin, a demon king, his butler and a demon noble, three angels, an immortal sorcerer and a reaper all on their side???? like if i knew all that and then they suddenly showed up in a badass outfit showing all the pact marks, id be pretty intimidated.)

[three-realms-archive]

Nightmares

Third oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up! This series was inspired by an idea in my ideas inbox, so please read the rules in the pinned post and drop any writing ideas you have in there!)

Belphegor, true to the nature of Sloth, watches his brother; and does nothing.

Where the Avatar of Sloth sits, a cloudy haze - rising and falling like dry ice - swirls around him. He touches the clouds swirling about half-heartedly, savouring the cooling sensation as the condensation forms on his skin. It’s a clear, grounding feeling; different to his brother.

He knows his brother can’t feel the haze that surrounds him.

After all, it’s not really his brother.

Belphegor used to love slipping into his brother’s dreams. Of course, the Beel he sees in the dreamscape isn’t the actual Beel. The actual Beel wouldn’t eat mountains of junk food without working out the next day; and the actual Beel would never sit at the family dinner table in front of heaps of fancy dishes without his family sitting alongside him. And, though these were but a small subset of the multitude of dreams Belphegor had seen his brother have over the years, Belphegor had never seen Beelzebub like this before. Belphegor had never seen Beelzebub stuck having the same dream for more than a few weeks.

Not since Lilith died.

The Avatar of Gluttony cycles through scenes. Walking. Eating. Studying shoulder-to-shoulder for a group project. Taking a morning jog and settling down to a picnic and watching the sunrise. Wandering with a loved one, hand-in-hand, ooh-ing and ah-ing at street food stalls at a idyllic funfair; surrounded by wonder and amazement and happiness -

Belphegor approaches the echo of his brother’s dreamlike state. He watches the human who is beside him in each scene.

This human, of course, isn’t the actual human Belphegor knew. The human in real life didn’t have a eyes this bright, or a voice so honey-sweet, or a laugh so perfect. This human was Beel’s. The human Beel saw, when he looked at them in the real world. The human who Beel spent time with in his dreams, because he’s lost too many chances to in real life.

Belphegor remembers the victorious glee he felt when you had broken down that day. About two weeks after he had tried to murder you, he thinks. He didn’t really remember much, other than Beel defending him for something that he had set up. Was it hiding one of Beel’s labelled puddings and saying you had eaten it? Was it that time he pretended you had told him off for something he didn’t do? Belphegor had lost track.

Belphegor remembers smiling discretely as you - your voice as meek as prey - as you asked Beel why he always believed his twin brother straight away. The sixth-born hadn't responded, and Belphegor remembers willing his sin to fill the room.

After a few minutes, tears had fallen from your eyes. Belphegor had frowned, hearing Beel’s breath hitch. He had heard something similar before. A few times when he needed to choose between Belphegor and Lilith dying; between staying with Father or falling with Lucifer. Despite obviously crying, you had stayed silent.

Then you had left.

And you hadn’t talked to Beelzebub since then.

Belphie continues to watch as Beel cycles through memories with you. There are so many, Belphie realises bitterly. So much time of this stupid human’s short, fragile life… spent taking care of his twin brother whilst he was locked away in the attic.

Each memory ends the same. Beel looks so insufferably happy. He nuzzles his face into your hair when he hugs you. He has the biggest, dopiest grin when he looks at you. He holds hands with you.

And each time, without fail, the dream of you fades away.

It is then when Belphegor needs to stop himself from breaking; holding his chest as if his heart is going to plummet through it. And - even with all his power - he finds some invisible wall preventing him from soothing his brother. The haze that circles around him drags itself across the floor lazily, reaching out for Beelzebub from where Belphegor stands. From Belphegor's view, the fog is like an extra hand for him - a manifestation of his guilt - causing Beel pain, even in his dreams. Belphegor can't un-create something he's created, after all.

He remembers each of Beel’s sounds you fade into nothing. Things he hasn’t heard from his brother in a long, long time.

The choked yelling of your name as he grabs air… just like when Beelzebub had reached out to save Belphegor, instead of Lilith.

The grunts of desperate effort as he dives headfirst, phasing through you and crashing to the ground…just like when Beelzebub had tried to save Lilith after.

The crying.

Just like when the twins had curled up together in their new, demon-filled home, in their new bedroom in the House of Lamentation. The sleep had been unbearable as their unfamiliar wings and tail thrashed against the sheets, trying to fight off both the discomfort and the memories of Lilith's death.

… Belphegor wakes up. He ignores the wet streaks running down his cheeks. Probably sleep-drool.

He ignores that the wet streaks start at his eyes.

Suddenly, his D.D.D flashes. Or, he thinks it is, but it’s actually his twin brother’s, using his charger. Belphie glances at the time. 4:00am. A few, small whines leave his brother’s lips. Belphie glances over to Beel and sees him slightly toss and turn in bed.

Belphie can’t do anything.

Avatar of Sloth, indeed.

… Belphie glances again at Beelzebub.

The Avatar of Sloth goes back to sleep.

…

Later, you wake up and take a look at the time on your D.D.D. 8:00am.

After months of nightmares, you’ve had the best sleep of your life - as if someone’s gone and chased away the memories of stairs and attics and blood. You used to go to the kitchen for a snack after waking up from a nightmare; but after exploding on Beel about two weeks ago, you found it hard to speak to him. You couldn’t blame yourself. He wouldn’t believe you when you would say that Belphegor was making you take blame for things you didn’t do; you weren’t sure he’d believe anything you’d say.

But you missed Beelzebub. You couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if you came up with a plan before breaking down in front of him and Belphegor. What would have happened if you had tried to talk to him again, instead of ignoring him?

You knew, for certain, Beel wasn't a bad person.

So what would happen if you... tried? Instead of wondering?

Sighing, you get out of bed and begin to pack your bag for RAD. You spot a snack in your bag; some chips that came free with a deal from the cafeteria that you didn’t really like.

But you know who would like them.

And you wouldn’t want them to go bad.

You steel your resolve, open up the Chat app on your D.D.D and scroll down. A lot. Then you reach Beel’s contact and type out a quick:

“Hey, it’s been a while. I think we should talk. And I have a snack you might like.”

The response is almost immediate.

“Yeah, of course. When and what time?”

You aren’t sure you would have been ready for this if you had just come out of one of your usual nightmares, sweating and sobbing.

So you thank the mysterious force which fought them off and get ready to meet Beelzebub.

(a new installationnnn!!!!! a few things, like beel constantly needing to choose between loved ones, belphegor being a menace to mc, belphegor entering beel's dreams, mc not being able to talk to beel. don't worry, though, i'll be doing some more casual stories for this series; esp since the last two have been really sad ahaha)

(As usual, a huge thank you to @kittylilyheart for the original idea! please check out my masterlist in the pinned post for the whole series, which is still in progress!)

Taglist: @kittylilyheart @gallantys

[three-realms-archive]

Just Wanting To Be Included

"YES!" Mammon celebrates, patting Beelzebub on the back with one hand, using the other to stop his phone recording and post the video. "The perfect take for my latest FabSnap vid! Who knew you'd be so good at air guitar?"

"I like rock music," Beel shrugged, looking at his wrist. He noticed he isn't wearing a watch, so he glanced up at the clock on Mammon's bedroom wall instead. "When do I get the snack you promised? It's almost time for my linner."

Mammon raised an eyebrow. "The hell’s a ‘linner’?"

Beel pauses. Humming thoughtfully, he stayed silent, tilting his head to the side. A minute passes. Mammon makes a weird face, impatient.

"... Should I be saying dunch? But that’s only one letter for ‘dinner’ and four for ‘lunch’…"

"Bro - oh my Diavolo." The older brother rolls his eyes, exasperated. "Whatever, whatever. Your snack's in the kitchen - c'mon. I bought you some fries and they'll get soggy if we don't hurry." He then adds, mumbling, “I think it’s meant’a be ‘dinch, anyway…”

Eyes lighting up, Beel uses an arm to half-grab Mammon in a crushing, grateful side hug; and half-push him eagerly out the room, dragging the both of them down the hall and closing the door behind him.

... An ominous creak. A shadowy figure slides into the room and fixes its gaze on Mammon's phone. It's still fixed to a tripod, forgotten in Beel's hurry to get its owner to the kitchen, and is still playing the newly-posted video the two brothers had just filmed. They seem to be dancing to a recently-popular song, which has an accompanying dance trend on FabSnap.

The mysterious figure watches, eyes studying - analysing - every dance move. The dance seems easy enough, it thinks.

A brief pause. The figure approaches the tripod, reaches into its pocket and replaces Mammon’s phone with its own.

The figure opens the FabSnap app and hits record.

_

You hum to the song playing on your phone, tapping twice on Mammon's new video. He's bouncing on his bed and playing air-drums, whilst Beel head-bangs stoically and strums his air-guitar. Replaying it for the seventeenth time doesn’t make it any less funnier; and you lean back in your seat as you giggle, carefree. You have a perfect-tasting smoothie in your hand, and tomorrow isn't a school night. You have no assignments, no homework, and no stress as you watch two of your favourite people goof of on social media. All is good and right with the world.

Except... You hear thumping. Coming from Mammon's room. Even though - just a few seconds ago - Mammon and Beel had come through the common room to get to the kitchen. Mammon had even stolen your phone to pull up his newest video for you, emphasising that he and Beel were the only ones in the room (and heavily hinting that you should have joined them).

So what was that thumping?

Reluctantly setting down your smoothie on the nearest table, you tiptoe out of the room and crouch next to Mammon's door, leaning your ear against it.

... There is definitely someone there.

You decide to gather more intel first, pulling out your phone to open up the House of Lamentation group chat, just in case. Luckily, the door is just a crack open.

You place an eye over the crack in the door.

... And you close the Chat app, raise your hand and take a video instead.

You head back to the common room, take a seat, and sip at your incredibly-delicious smoothie; completely satisfied. All is good and right with the world.

Well - except one thing.

You had no idea who you should send this video of Lucifer FabSnap-dancing to first.

(inspired by the first episode of the anime! i’d like to think lucifer sees his brothers do trendy things and want to be included, but he’ll do it in private. it’s half he wants to be included, and half he wants to be better at it than his brothers first time hehe)

[three-realms-archive]

hi, y'all - just found out my dad has mammon glasses, like this post and i might edit this post with a snippet about it eventually

just wanted to share this revelation w the fandom

he owns the same jackets mammon does too

[three-realms-archive]

What is Up, Fellow Celestials?

You and Simeon had been dreading this day, ever since Luke had first taken an interest in humans. Luke had little interest in humanity before you came along - but, upon observation, he quickly realised that the humans who looked like him were so… freshly-baked. So… new. So young.

“Maybe this is why MC always sticks around when I use the oven…” The young angel muttered, observing a group of human students playing at a human park. They looked like him - speaking in voices that sounded like his. His eye followed one human boy in particular, who lay down in some kind of oversized, wooden tray. The human’s fist, filled with sand, was getting very close to his open mouth.

“What a stupid human.” Luke mumbled, watching the boy’s mother come over to save him. “I’d never do anything like that.”

Suddenly, he heard a group of humans (thankfully not in the sandy box) cheering. Out of the corner of his eye, one of their group - a human girl with swoopy, rainbow hair and metal growing on her teeth - flashed into view. She rode a panel of wood on wheels, arms adorned with colourful rectangles of paper, and little flashes of light shone from the soles of her shoes when she walked. Luke’s eyes widened, hypnotised. She spat when she spoke - mouth smiling big and opening wide. This human girl radiated pure confidence. Not only that, but MC had never used any of the words he was hearing her say now. He wondered why.

But one thing was certain.

… This girl was really, really cool.

…

“Sure, whatevs, MC.” Luke huffed in what was an oddly-enthusiastic portrayal of nonchalant. He wasn’t wearing his usual hat to RAD today. His hair was bubble-gum blue and seaweed green; and smelled suspiciously like the paint used in last period’s art class. “We can play catch after class. I hope to show the brothers my, um, swagger; before then. I’ll play catch with you later too, Simeon."

You and Simeon blinked, staring dumbfoundedly at each other as Luke rolled away. Literally rolled. On what looked like a celestial hoverboard. Where did he get that?

“I think… I think he meant to say he’d catch us later.” You started slowly. Simeon looked like his body had encountered an error. “And that he wants to show his bros - maybe he wanted to say swag? Do angels know human slang?”

Simeon wasn’t responding. You frowned, concerned.

“Simeon? Simeon, are you okay?” You say, shaking the angel’s shoulder. “Do you need water?”

Simeon slowly turned his head to you. His spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

“Luke… He looks so cool.”

(hehe this was just a little fun, i need to give the dateables more love. the last part is inspired by that audio drama where simeon gets excited by turning a laptop on, its great go listen to it, i think it accompanied his character song. i also think that, if luke ever had a crush on someone, they’d be someone with a very strong aesthetic. could be something like this cool skater girl, or like cutesy bows/frills/dresses i can see too. as long as it’s really striking)

[three-realms-archive]

Love Me, or Not?

Satan sat alone, in a forest far, far away from the House of Lamentation. He sat slouching, his back against an oak tree for support, surrounded by ripped and torn roses. Hissed, aggressive, angry mutters left his lips.

“Love… Not… Love… Not…”

A small crowd of cats also sat on and around Satan’s lap. They peered up at what the Avatar of Wrath was doing; at his fingers, bloodied and cut from the roses’ thorns. With their feline stare immoveable, their eyes judged.

“They love me… Love me not. Love me… then love me not.” Satan continued to mutter, with increasing desperation. “Loves me… Not?! Not?!?!” He roared as the penultimate petal was plucked off, shifting into his demon form and clawing at the de-petaled rose until it was nothing but tatters of stem and leaves hidden amongst the blades of grass under him. The cats continued to stare, and judge, and stare.

“Are there really no other words in this stupid ritual?!” He growled, violently whipping his head around to find the book he had brought with him. ‘A Woman’s Guide to Romance’, written by a human in the 1800s. He frantically flicked to the relevant page, scanning the walls and fences of text to find something - anything - he had missed about how to do the ritual. Maybe a loophole to add on a petal? Maybe this book was too old? But in Satan’s mind, two-hundred years wasn’t all that long - so the writing inside must still hold up.

Or, at least, that’s what he had thought before he had gotten ‘loves me not’ on two-hundred of these stupid roses.

He hadn’t even heard of this game before you, even with all his reading up on the three realms. He had walked in on you gently picking off the petals of a daisy in the RAD courtyard and had approached you, inquiring as to what you were doing. His eyesight still got slightly blurry at the sight of you and his pact mark on foreign skin, the power of the pact still very fresh. It had only been a few weeks, after all. If anything, it was better for you to stay far away from him with such power - such wrath - under your control and yet… You had stayed. Calmly, as if teaching a child, you had explained the premise of the ritual, with Satan doing what he did best: learning. He had learned about how to do the ritual; that some do it for closure, and others for self-assurance; that you did it every time you had a crush.

He also had learned what your favourite flower was, and had briefly imagined him presenting you a bouquet. He had learned that your laughter reminded him of bell chimes, that your scent reminded him of his favourite tea and that your giggles reminded him of a cat’s purr.

And, after what seemed like hours of you talking and him listening, he hadlearned that he loved the way it felt to hear you talk with your head on his shoulder. He had learned he loved to look at your face when you talked. He had learned that he loved to look at your lips talking, pursed and pretty and so soft-looking -

… He had learned a lot that day.

He had learned you had a crush and had relished in your smile when, on your first try, your final petal had been ‘he loves me.’ Then he texted you later that day; and learned that your crush had five letters in his name.

Quickly, he had researched forests with an abundance of flowers and went to the one that would be the furthest away from the prying eyes of his brothers. If he could replicate your result, he’d have definite proof. Proof that it was okay to act on these feelings that have been eating away at him for so long.

But now, two-hundred destroyed flowers later, things were looking bleak.

As he looked down at the mess around him, Satan thought of you. As pretty and as delicate as a rose; as kind, strong and persevering as the flowers too beautiful to deserve a life in the Devildom, but continued to thrive regardless. You: the flower too beautiful to deserve the fate of being torn to shreds by the Avatar of Wrath, like the roses around him.

… Suddenly, a buzzing in his pocket.

He took a deep breath, seeing the message on his D.D.D was from you.

> heyyyyyyyyy, Satan <3

> hehe this cat looks like you hehe

A picture popped up of you snuggling up to a demon cat, not minding the its tiny horns pressing into your cheek. Instinctively, he reached up to lightly touch his own horns. His breath hitched. If you were alright with horns - with the monstrous side of him - then maybe…

Resolute, Satan stood up and dusted himself free of flower bits with one hand; using the other to type out a response.

> It looks adorable. Where are you? I’ll come see it in person.

He paused, before adding:

> I have something I need to tell you.

Why should he let the flowers decide whether you loved him not?

He could get the answer from you himself.

(another attempt at romance, and sappy romantic satan is always fun. there’s a brief reference to that chat where he asks who you would date and i was chortling because man that was bold asf, actual props to him. he strikes me as someone who would research and prep for all scenarios beforehand, then kick his feet like a teenager under the covers of his bed when mc responded.)

[three-realms-archive]

Unhinged™

(inspired by this post by @leniisreallycool. the pure madness of obey me is the reason why I typically write chaotically-comedic slice-of-life scenarios; because i can honestly write these guys doing the stupidest things and argue that it might as well be canon, these dorks. anime canon, tho. the anime is just another beast of its own to the game ahahaha.)

(so while this may not be anime canon-level obey me content, i hope it comes close. if they’ve actually done any of these and i just haven’t experienced it in-game yet, let me know! it only proves my point.)

There was a time when Solomon brought an extremely-long baguette everywhere with him, insisting it was his magic wand. Even as the days turned to weeks, and the bread crust turned to mould, Solomon would still carry it around everywhere; unbothered by the rancid smell and waving it like a idol group light-stick whenever he spoke an incantation. Then, one day, he showed up at RAD with sandwiches to share. Sandwiches… with suspiciously green and white bread. Turns out, this whole thing was Solomon’s interpretation of dry-aging.

Belphegor and Asmodeus have an ongoing vlog series on Deviltube called ‘Beauty Sleep’. They go somewhere trendy, find some inappropriate place for Belphie to sleep, and Asmo takes some #aesthetic shots whilst timing how long Belphie can nap before being kicked out. It’s incredibly popular and sometimes features cameos from the exchange students and the other Avatars of Sin. Once, a subscriber milestone came with a special surprise: a live-streamed episode of Beauty Sleep in the Demon Lord’s Castle! They never got caught, because Diavolo was busy watching the livestream in his room - too invested to realise it was his own house.

The dining table in the main room of the House of Lamentation has its own fandom on the DevilNet. There are multiple fansites speculating the exact materials used to make it; the exact number of fasteners it uses; and, most especially, its exact length. There are posts, blogs and entire DevilTube deep-dive videos centred around the mystery of how long the table is. This is because, in every piece of media involving the table, it appears a different length despite the decorations and location remaining the same. What the Devildom doesn't know is that the table was made retractable shortly after MC arrived in the Devildom. It was a custom job, done solely so that the table could be used as a runway for a makeshift fashion show (Asmo and Mammon's idea) the brothers held with human world clothes one time MC was feeling homesick.

Once, for a whole month, Mammon dedicated himself to creating a new currency. For the first week, he was an absolute menace, stealing metal objects (like small screws or unused kitchen utensils) around the house to melt down and form into coins of his own design. Beel cried for five days over the lack of cutlery and Asmo kept shrieking whenever he realised he’d had another piece of jewellery had been stolen from him. The rest of the month was spent attempting to rope people into investing; then failing; then celebrating because he had so much of his money to himself; and finally crying because none of it would be accepted at stores.

When he had first gotten into reading books, Satan started a website called ‘Ampbook’ where demons could upload personal writing projects, as well as comment on and share them, too. It’s now incredibly popular, especially amongst younger demons, and is well-known for romance. Well. Much to Satan’s chagrin, it was actually better-known for romance… and fanfiction. He’s constantly torn between allowing his beloved site users their freedom of expression, or immediately taking down any fanfics shipping MC with any of his other brothers. He’s also faked MC x Satan as the most trending tag, permanently.

The height of Beel’s appreciation for Leviathan was shortly after MC’s arrival into the Devildom. They had introduced Levi to an anime centred around four students in a high school swimming team; including a protagonist who Beel thought had a dubiously-intimate love of water. Regardless, Levi tried out for the RAD swimming team - got in and won a bunch of gold medals - and then proceeded to quit the team after a new, different anime he had been waiting for came out. All in the span of a week. To Levi's disdain, Beel brings this up at least once a month: by parading a handmade display of Levi's medals and a framed photo of his older brother in a swimsuit around RAD, showing it off to everyone who asked. And everybody asked. Maybe not so much for the medals.

[three-realms-archive]

A Weak Wrist

Second oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up!

“You will tell me what happened, Leviathan.”

Lucifer raises an eyebrow at the scene before him. You, on the floor and clutching your wrist. Leviathan, on the other side of the room and in demon form, holding a first aid kit he had taken out of the cabinet. Lucifer had opened the door just as Leviathan had taken out a bandage and started swinging his arm, as if to throw it to you as if feeding a scared, wild animal. When Lucifer had asked, his younger brother suddenly couldn’t look him in the eye - instead, Levi looks to you for a response.

You say nothing. This is hardly new to Lucifer, who had noticed that he only tends to see you in shared classes or family dinners recently. He’d watch you joke and laugh with his brothers so easily, which was pretty good news. Finally, the human was behaving themselves. Strangely, though, Levi’s face takes an uncharacteristically serious expression. As if steeling himself for your sake.

“W-We, uh, were trying out this new video-game I got for family game night. There’s, like, a mat… A mat! With arrows you hop on. To, um, play.” Levi explains. “But they… they fell. Their wrist, they fell on it and it got hurt. Badly.”

“I’m fine, Levi. My wrist is - ah, ah - weak, anyway.” You try to respond, growling through gritted teeth when you try to roll your wrist around. Your heart softens when Levi mumbles what seems to be “… because of me.” and shake your head. You clamp your eyes shut to prepare and attempt - again - to rotate your hand about your wrist.

The pain is brutal… but at least it distracts from the even-more painful memories of a quiz with a demon; and the injury to your wrist that resulted in it being so prone to injury.

“You’re not going anywhere like that. Here.” Lucifer sighs, massaging his forehead. Weak, vulnerable humans. He doesn’t see you freeze. “Take my arm. We’ll go to the dining room, get you some water and sit you down with an ice pack.”

“…”

You don’t respond. This is hardly new to Lucifer, yet he finds himself irritated.

“MC. That’s not a request.” He raises his voice, moving closer and offering his hand to you - and you flinch. Away from him. Lucifer is confused because what had he done, other than offer you assistance?

You, frozen as solid as ice, provide little to no answer to that question. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer notices Leviathan gulp, holding his breath, eyes darting between his older brother and his best friend. His concentration flickering and one can almost see the imaginary cursor struggling to choose between two options of the visual novel scene playing in his mind.

‘Say something.’

‘Say nothing.’

Levi chooses the latter, but turns to you. He opens his arms rather awkwardly. And then, you have to make the choice instead.

Inwardly, Lucifer huffs. Levi had caused your injury then, and he had caused it now. And offering a hug, of all things? How naive. Lucifer let his eyes meet yours, not feeling the need to offer anything more than he already had.

… But Lucifer feels something foreign and unpleasant in his chest when he watches you walk across the room - and into Leviathan’s arms. He watches the third-born brother stutter in shock, taking a few minutes to process - before scrambling to meet you halfway. And why wouldn’t he need to process that? Why wouldn’t Leviathan be surprised, after being the reason for your weak wrist in the first place? After all; Lucifer had been right there, the eldest’s arm slightly bent at the elbow, ready for you to place your hand. Ready to lend you support. Irritatingly, annoyingly ready to do anything for you… and for you to do anything - anything - remotely significant to him.

Ready to receive the forgiveness you seemed to give to everyone else so damn easily over the last few months. Had you forgotten that all of his family, in one way or another, had a part to play in your hurt just as much as Belphegor?

You, Diavolo’s exchange student, had finally been behaving, ever since Belphie. Lucifer had been proud of himself for taming you, because murder was commonplace in the Devildom. He had thought that witnessing it for yourself was just the lesson you needed to stay away from danger. You never speak to him unless spoken to. You had stay in your room when he was home. You freeze when he’s near. You let yourself be cradled by demons who had almost snapped your arm in the midst of a fit of envy; and would rather that than even come within six metres of his arm. You stayed far away from danger. You stayed farther away from Lucifer. And the combination of his pride and distance from you had made admitting that impossible for him. Admitting that his brothers had been spending the past few months trying; reaching out to you.

Lucifer, Avatar of Pride, had not.

So - having met in the middle of the room - Lucifer watches as you stay with Leviathan. Levi doesn’t quite know what to do with his arms, so the two of you huddle together like penguins looking for warm, under Lucifer’s icy stare. Every now and again, you cautiously peer over Levi’s shoulder. Your knuckles turn white from gripping Levi’s hoodie fabric. Your eyes meet with those of the Avatar of Pride - you immediately look away.

Lucifer stands apart from you, still by the room’s entrance. The arm he had offered for you to is retracted, as it’s nowhere near enough to reach you. And nowhere near a hug.

A horrid, awful truth dawns on him, making his stomach drop like butterflies turning to lead inside.

His would only ever allow him to take half a step forward.

And, in return, you would take ten steps back - far, far away from him. Even farther than from the demon who had broken your wrist.

And it would be a long, long time before you would let him get close enough to reach you.

…

…

“… Lucifer.” You murmur; voice barely above a whisper. His eyes meet to yours faster than he would like. “C-Could you, um… Could you get me a glass of water? Please.”

He stays there, for a few seconds. His breath hitches.

He… eventually nods, turning to leave the room. He gets the water; and doesn’t realise he’s slightly rushing.

He returns a few minutes later. He sees that you’ve detached yourself from his brother and, when your eyes meet his, you take half a step forward. He glances away.

He doesn’t look at you when he makes his way across the room to where you’re standing. Nor does he realise he’s walking quicker than normal.

Suddenly, the sound of gentle scales scraping against wood echoes to break the deafening silence and Lucifer finds Levi’s tail at his feet. Right in front of you, and right in front of him. A barrier.

He glances at Levi, one of his beloved baby brothers, and sees that he’s holding his breath again. His eyes are trained on you.

And when you smile at Leviathan, your shoulders relaxing a millimetre, Lucifer realises this is as far as he goes.

… Then it happens.

He hands you the glass of water.

You take it.

He feels your fingers brush. The tiny, minuscule contact sends electricity through his gloves, down his fingertips, and the feeling surges through his arms and straight to his heart.

After a few minutes, Leviathan gradually begins to say something about new video-game suggestions for family game night. The words are hazy and unclear - Lucifer’s too busy focusing on how it felt to be near you; to touch you; to hear you speak to him without being spoken to first, for the first time in months. The first time in what had felt like millennia.

It would be a long time before you would let him get close enough to reach you.

But, as you give him the smallest of smiles as thanks for the water, he’s somehow reassured that the time would come.

The least he could do, after all he’s done, is wait.

(i know wanted to see some lucifer-centric stuff, so here it is! they specifically mentioned mammon and satan, and those will come in a later chapter since i more see them as stuff lucifer doesn’t pick up on; or, at least, stuff that doesn’t require him to face you directly, so he gets to keep his pride. all of the brothers have hurt mc in one way or another, so i wanted something clear and concrete and emotional that set lucifer apart. i figured, the phrase ‘to keep your pride’ is used often used to stop people from apologising, taking responsibility or doing something with humility - so i figured it would be the same with the avatar of pride. he won’t be the first to address it.)

(please look forward to the next chapters, as well as their accompanying headcanon chapters! some people have also asked to be tagged in the posts relating to this series, so please comment below if you’d like to be tagged too)

(finally, massive thanks to @kittylilyheart for submitting the original idea and check out Phantom Pain in the pinned masterlist post to see it! my ideas inbox is still open, so please read the rules in the pinned post and submit something obey-me related you’d like to see me write!)

Taglist:

@kittylilyheart @gallantys

[three-realms-archive]

Beel is Anime

Levi is torn. Very, very torn about whether he should intervene with the scene happening before his eyes.

On one hand, what was happening was definitely anime-related. A laptop, a phone and some DVD-playing screen; all playing a different genre of anime. There was a now-empty Akuzon package on the floor with a receipt for ‘anime cosplay waifu makeup eyeshadow palette and brush set with manga kawaii sticker set’ taped to the top. The contents of said-box were laid strewn on the coffee table, being used by the last brother he expected to share his interests. At least, not without some limited edition snacks or a themed-cafe involved. Despite that, Leviathan’s heart soared! His little bro was finally seeing the light and appreciating the wonders of anime! Maybe they could cosplay together; eat at maid cafes together; read manga, have hotpot, and all the other things he knows families do from the stories he’s read or watched before.

On the other hand, his second-youngest brother, Beelzebub, was currently dipping his fingers in what looked to be makeup primer (from the bottle label) and putting it in… his hair? Like gel. Making a mess of the whole… whatever this thing was. Smothering foundation on his lips before outlining them in eyeshadow; fumbling with coloured contact lenses, only to stick them with… lash glue? On his eyelids???

The whole thing looked like it required at least twenty content warnings. Plus a message telling kids to not try this at home.

Suddenly, Beel turned around. Of course he did. He was standing in front of a mirror, and could one-hundred percent see his older brother’s mortified face in its reflection.

“U-Uh… B-Beel. Beel!” Levi couldn’t really decide on what to say. Or even what tone of voice to use. “Beel, uh… What, um, are you up to?”

“Bro.” The sixth-born nodded in acknowledgement. One of the eyelid contacts fell off as he did so. “Have I done it right?”

Levi gulped, his hands getting clammy. What was he meant to say? To any of this?!

“D-Done what, Beel?”

“Cosplay. I thought we could go to the upcoming Ruri-chan pop-up cafe together. So I’m gonna dress up like Ruri.” Beel announced, holding up his arms in a ‘T’ shape. He had painted the sleeves of his shirt. Levi’s eyes fell on the paint bucket by Beel’s feet. Literal paint. Literal, thick, still wet paint. It was so much worse than Levi initially thought. “I saw on a poster that if you cosplay as Ruri-chan, you get free dessert.”

Levi blinked.

“Y-You’re cosplay - this is Ruri-chan?”

“Yup. If I want to cosplay, I just have to be anime, right?” Beel shrugged. “‘I am anime.’ That’s what you always shout when you cosplay in your room.” He explains simply, still in the ‘T’ pose. Levi’s eyes go wide and he immediately flushes a deep red, holding his hands to his face and trying to hide behind his arms.

“WHAT?! How did you - ? Y-You weren’t meant to hear…! GAH!!!” He groans loudly in defeat, sinking to the floor with his head in his hands; any further words muffled.

“It’s okay, Levi. I get it.” Beel reassures fondly, reaching down to pat his brother’s shoulder. Levi’s embarrassed stammers turn to horrified shrieks when he hears a wet squish, realising that Beel had also put foundation on his hands, which now were rubbing it into his favourite hoodie. “The Fangol team does chants to hype up before big games, too. I’ll chant it, too - and you can rate it.”

… Levi sobs helplessly as Beel takes a deep breath, and opens his mouth.

_

Lucifer nods, satisfied as he roams around the House of Lamentation, passing by each door. After all the nonsense last time, he’s banned anyone from using loud speakers without his permission… And he’s also banned Beel from ever touching a paintbrush. His hungry, little brother seemed to be behaving himself since then, so all was good.

Or so he thought. He’s checked all the rooms, so he decides to reward himself with a nice, long shower before he has to head back to his study to finish off more paper work. It’s the only room he hasn’t checked, too; which was convenient.

Lucifer approaches the bathroom. He hears a mix of Beel chanting “Beel is anime!” and Levi’s horrified wailing. The smell of paint fills his nostrils.

… He leaves. That shower can wait.

(i will never get tired of this series. the usual: beel being adorkable and confused, lucifer being absolutely done, and horrible, horrible art. one of these days, i swear i’ll write lucifer being cool and suave and stuff. but today is not that day.)

[three-realms-archive]

(This me rambling, feel free to ignore and lesson 16 spoilers! ^^; hi hello btw!)

I wanna see MC sometimes staying at Purgatory Hall and the Demon Lord's Castle more often as an escape to truly relax and maybe see the brothers try to overcome some of their struggles in their own, even if it's just a bit, if not for them, then for MC who has done so much, maybe even too much, for them, y'know?

Lesson 16 was quite the turning point, but not a lot of things changed. I wanna see before and afters with everyone. I wanna see angst where everyone is trying to be normal (maybe because MC is trying to be normal), but when the slightest thing goes wrong, they all flinch to shield MC or something. The smallest smell of vlood after chopping up food for dinner? Flashback to lesson 16. MC being too cold? Mammon flashes back. Belphie standing over MC (holding blankets or just so happen to be there for some reason)? Levi is holding his breath.

But at the same time, i want to see MC flinch from Lucifer. Before Belphie, Lucifer was going to hurt MC or worse, and he did it the most and has succeeded in hurting MC the most out of the brothers. I want to see MC hold their breath anytime he gets angry but is completely calm with Satan. I wanna see MC's shoulders tense while helping with paperwork alone with him but be completely fine with doing the same with Diavolo. I wanna see Mammon acting as like a bridge between the two.

Everyone is so creative on how they write lesson 16 but i don't see a lot of "after the lesson" ones. I always wondered, if their MC went through that (assuming if they made ir canon in their MC's story), what changed, if at all?

Phantom Pain

First oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up!

(thank you to @kittylilyheart for inspiring what will now be a oneshot series dedicated to everyday life in the aftermath of lesson 16, because there's just so many characters in this series with so many things you can write for each. they gave so many interesting examples in their submitted idea; so I'll be including some and incorporating my own. If you have an idea for something related to Obey Me! or Obey Me! Nightbringer that you'd like me to put to writing, please read the rules pinned to this blog before submitting to the blog's inbox!)

_

It’s like pins and needles, starting at your neck and running down your back. Mammon sees you arch your back oddly as you go to knock on the door to the Demon Lord’s castle; and immediately knows.

“Hey, hey.” He says as he bumps his shoulder into yours, fingers touching your sleeve. Even though he’s seen this a bunch of times, he never really knows what to do. “Ya, uh. Ya got the needles-thing again?”

“Yeah. Ugh, why now?” You groan through gritted teeth, waiting for the feeling to subside. Both you and Mammon were used to this, episodes happening every now and then. Temporary bouts of phantom pain down your back and sides, where arms had hugged you and…

Dwelling wouldn’t help. And besides; they barely inconvenienced you. You sat down and pressed your back against a nearby wall.

“Don’t do that. What are ya doin’?”

“It feels better when I put my back against something hard and flat.” You state matter-of-factly, never breaking eye contact as you slowly slide down. He looks more confused. You grin. "As long as Beel hasn't got his fifth dinner on it, the kitchen table is nice, too."

“Weird humans…” Mammon mutters disapprovingly, but he sits beside you to wait it out. His head flops to one side, cheek resting on your head, as he makes the ever-so-cliché show of pretending to stretch his arm above his head, over yours… and, eventually, around your shoulders. You snort as his fingers fidget, figuring he just doesn’t know where to place them. They first settle on your chest, lingering over where your heart beats. Then, they scurry up to your collarbone and settle on your pulse point. He presses around a little, as if searching. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans back against the wall, too.

“I think it’s going away, now. Mams. Hey, Mams.” You shake his arm a few minutes later. He blushes at your willing contact (as if he hadn’t been holding you close this whole time) and the cutesy nickname, but shuffles back to give you space to stand. Though not before checking your back first, touching the back of his hand to the skin between your shoulder blades, which your outfit exposes. Because you’d been leaning on a metal wall, your skin is cold.

He freezes. Your skin, cold. Your lips, not breathing. The slight red from where his hand had pressed against you has a slightly red flush. Red - red, just like it had been when -

He makes a show of dusting off your shoulders, one hand curling its fingers just enough to press a little more around your neck pulse point.

He hums again, satisfied. Then, the sheer amount of touching you that he’s done today hits him - and he turns his head to the side with a not-so-subtle cough.

“Y-Yeah, okay. Good. Let’s knock, then.” Mammon straightens and flashes you one of his signature grins. You notice it wobbles a little, but you attribute that to the adorably-dramatic cough he was forcing out of his throat just moments earlier. “If we get back late, Lucifer’ll think we’re slackin.”

“We can’t stay longer? Lord Diavolo said in his letter that I can work at the castle for as long as I like.” You pout. Secretly, your heartbeat gets a little faster; you swore you read the letter correctly. You look at Mammon hopefully, avoiding looking at the path behind you; which was starting to look awfully short. “I thought we were getting back after Lucifer goes out tonight.”

Mammon raises an eyebrow. “Ya wanna stay that long? It’s dangerous out. It’s safer with Lucifer around. ” He protests worriedly - but catches himself quickly. “W-Well. Not that I can’t protect ya… But everyone’s at home, too! The more people around, the better the protectin'!”

“Mammon -”

“Mammon is probably right, MC." Suddenly, you hear a voice behind you. "Though, I admit - I hadn't thought about that when I wrote the letter requesting your visit.”

The two of you jump. You and Mammon immediately find each others’ hands, and whip around to face the source of the voice. Mammon is already stepping forward, stretching his arm in front of you protectively... when he sees who it is.

“Lord… Geez, Lord Diavolo. Barbatos.” He nervously chuckles, stepping back. “We were literally just about to knock. Warn a guy next time, why don’t’cha?”

“No worries, Mammon. Sorry for startling you.” Diavolo offers apologetically. He nods in acknowledgement to you. “Hello there, MC. Lucifer may worry too much if he doesn’t see you before leaving the House, so it may be best for him to see you’re safe and sound, first.”

You look up slowly at the Crown Prince of the Devildom. The prince’s demon butler stands just behind his liege, almost blending into the shadows. They look so… tall. So towering. You don’t register the words that come out of your mouth.

“Oh, u-uh. Okay, then. I’ll help with some RAD event planning, then leave. early”

Mammon gives you a look, shuffling closer and bumping his shoulder into yours, again. “Oi, human, are you sure? I thought earlier you said -”

“I’ll do what Lord Diavolo, said. It’s probably for a reason.” You reply nonchalantly as Barbatos steps forward and unlocks the front door. You can see the hallway as it creaks open and it’s dark. It reminds you of a room you had woken up in when you were pulled from your home with no warning. It reminds you of winding stairs that had lead up to an attic, with a shadowy figure waiting behind a locked door. It was the home of two people who, try as you might, you could never, ever say no to.

Was it fear? You didn’t think so, you could talk to them pretty easily. Agree with them, easily.

Was it hatred? Not that either. You knew Mammon appreciates them for their part in saving you, so you guess you do, too.

You think of the phantom pain from earlier, then think that the darkness of the castle hallway looks a lot more inviting than dwelling on painful memories and difficult questions. So you let your feet follow Diavolo and Barbatos into the castle, laughing when Diavolo fondly tussles Mammon’s hair and enthusiastically piping up with ideas when Barbatos lists off the upcoming events to be held by the student council at RAD.

Mammon does hang back a little at first, though; wondering why you disapproved of his idea when he said it - but then agreed so readily when Diavolo did. But Diavolo did help you with the whole Belphie situation. And he was grateful Diavolo had you brought to the Devildom at all. So he follows you and thinks nothing of it.

And you follow Barbatos and Diavolo. Listening to their every word, like it was instinct. Like you didn’t really have a choice. Just like you didn't have when they had saved you.

Just like you had no choice when they had first brought you here.

(first chapter of the blog's very first series! this was pretty interesting and challenging to write as i really didn't want anything sad or angsty; just the same tone as my other slice-of-life stuff but with little pangs of hurt from the habits that the characters pick up after the belphie incident. i'd like to think that mc and the obm cast actually do recover pretty quickly from lesson 16, but not for the reason of forgiving each other easily, which i'll get to in later chapters. in this case, mc gets along well with dia and barb out of trust for them saving them, but also because they've always taken the reigns on their fate anyway.)