zephyrchama

[zephyrchama]

You once accidentally spooked Raphael by jumping on him from behind and giving him a big hug while he focused on his needlework.

You'd never seen a rain of spears so sudden or violent. The sky opened up. You didn't dare raise your head to view it. The clang of metal striking stone, so loud that it echoed around the walls and in your head, made you cling to Raphael even stronger. Points akin to the sharpest blades whistled past, missing you by a hair. You'd have been skewered if you hadn't thoroughly attached yourself to Raphael's back.

It took some time for Raphael to realize it was you, shaking and vulnerable. Not a demon going berserk or an enemy after his life. It was a moment that passed like eternity. He reached back to put a hand on your head and called off the furious barrage of spears. You felt the tension in his shoulders loosen. Both of your hearts were racing.

That was the last time you spooked Raphael.

[zephyrchama]

Asmodeus was in a foul mood. The cupcakes he had purchased were eaten by his younger brother. He spent most of the day venting to you, however, his frustration continued to grow. By the end of the school day, Asmodeus had gathered most of his other brothers and declared it time for a good old fashioned gossip session to ease his mind.

"Tell me the worst thing you've ever seen Beel eat," he demanded. "Satan, you go first."

"I saw him wrapping a chunk of mystery meat in bacon and sausage, slathering it with an entire bottle of sauce, then wrapping it in even more bacon and a new bottle of sauce. Over and over, until he had this big meaty rock," Satan explained. He had a faraway look in his eye. "It was too excessive. I couldn't even bring myself to watch him eat it."

"I know what you mean," Leviathan commiserated. "I've seen him devour eleven roasted shadow hogs in one sitting." He shuddered upon recalling the feat of pure gluttony. The image was burned into his mind.

"That's nothin'," Mammon told him. "I watched a train carryin' a boatload of frozen horror cherry pies derail. Beel ate 'em all off the tracks. Every last one. I can still hear him crunchin' on the rocks that got mixed in." He stuck his tongue out and pretended to gag.

Belphegor was next to chime in. "You know what sounded crunchy? This one time, Beel wrapped and ate three live huma—"

Everyone's faces turned pale. Asmodeus rushed to poke him hard in the side, causing Belphegor to yelp to a stop.

There was a lot of nervous side-eyeing in your direction. Mammon had his hands raised like he was going to clamp them over your ears. Satan was rubbing the bridge of his nose to stay calm. Leviathan's mouth was a giant frown, opening and closing like a fish out of water. Things had become incredibly awkward.

Belphegor continued, very slowly, "Three... humongous pizzas."

[zephyrchama]

Can you imagine misbehaving slightly at a fancy party - like maybe you're improperly reaching across a table instead of asking for a dish to be passed - and Barbatos subtly slaps you with with his tail.

There's nobody behind your chairs. No one will see. It is important to follow the etiquette that he taught you so these demons don't look down on you, and on humanity as a whole. Though, he can't exactly have a private conversation with you at the dinner table. Sending you a look of disapproval is hard when you're sitting side by side and focused more on the food than on Barbatos sitting next to you.

It's just a flick. Quick, powerful, you barely perceive the cool drag of his tail on the surface of your skin before it starts stinging. It doesn't last lost but it sure leaves an impression. You snap to attention and swivel your neck to stare at him. Barbatos is as poised as ever, with a pleasant smile. He acts like nothing happened. He does hope you'll remember your table manners.

[zephyrchama]

The Seven Rulers of Hell probably can't properly fill out a map of the United States. Maybe Lucifer and Satan can on a good day, but there's no way you're getting anyone else to accurately point out where Wyoming is.

[zephyrchama]

"Solomon?"

"Yeah?"

The wizard's voice carried from the other room where he was fussing over settings on the dining room table.

"Why is there a homunculus in the kitchen?" you asked.

A small being with empty holes for eyes writhed along the counter top. It was doughy, with an assortment of leafy spices sticking out of its body. When it reached out to drag itself forward, bits of its arms stuck to its body like goo. It gave you the creeps.

There was a beat of silence before Solomon replied, "What?"

"The homunculus next to the stove," you explained. "Where did that come from?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. However, I might have spilled some ingredients while mixing, can you wipe it up for me?" Solomon was not visible, but he sounded as calm and upbeat as ever.

You backed away as the homunculus wormed closer to the counter's edge. Every few seconds it made a small, high pitched peeping sound. You didn't know where the sound was coming from. It had no mouth.

"I'm not cleaning up your mess," you called. "Also, I'm pretty sure it has consciousness."

There were footsteps in the dining room. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about. Maybe you're so hungry you're hallucinating? I've set the table, come and dig in."

At long last, Solomon popped his head into the kitchen. You occupied the corner, too wary to get close to the little abomination but unwilling to take your eyes off it. If it fell on the floor and scuttled into another room, who knew where it would end up. You wouldn't be able to sleep at night. Solomon followed your gaze.

"Oh, hey! Look at this!" he laughed, pointing at his accidental child. He went to scoop it up in his hands. "You're right. Huh. I was wondering why our dinner portions were on the small side. Shall we invite it to eat with us?"

[zephyrchama]

Leviathan appears to be a smidge taller than Mammon, but Mammon probably thinks he's the taller one due to how often Levi hunches over.

Having chronic issues like anxiety and being a gamer means that Leviathan likely isn't standing up straight very often.

[zephyrchama]

Mephistopheles has texted you with breaking news.

The Easter Egg Hunt at the royal palace arranged by Diavolo has been postponed. During setup, Beelzebub ate one of the eggs with 5,000 grimm inside. It was an egg Mammon had been searching for before the hunt officially started. The two began brawling in the garden over the incident. Their fighting destroyed a number of eggs decorated by Asmodeus and woke Belphegor from his resting spot. They both flew into a fury and joined the skirmish.

Lucifer is taking care of things. He says your presence would be most welcome if you want to come early to keep an eye on everyone. Mephistopheles also thinks that a picture of you ordering Lucifer and his brothers to stay would really enhance his article on the whole debacle.

[zephyrchama]

The moment Mammon saw you, his eyes lit up. He changed course, making a beeline in your direction. "Hey, hey, hey! Just the person I was lookin' for!"

He wasted no time in slinging an arm over your shoulders and matching your pace. A big smile was plastered on his face. He was practically humming. Mammon could be quite affectionate at times, but this was suspicious.

"Y'see, Lucifer wanted you to clean the bathroom today," he suddenly stated. "Go scrub it really well, make that baby shine. Whole nine yards."

That came out of nowhere. You gave him the side-eye. "He said that, huh?"

"Sure did! Said there ain't no one better for the job!" Mammon nodded so hard, with such exaggeration, it shook his whole upper body.

"So Lucifer said he wants me," you pointed at yourself, "and me specifically, to clean the bathroom. Which you usually do as punishment. Because there 'ain't no one better.'"

"Yep! I dunno, maybe ya did something to piss 'im off. Sucks to be you."

While the Avatar of Greed loved poker, he had a terrible poker face in front of you. Mammon refused to meet your eyes and instead stared straight ahead with that big, fake smile.

"Okay. Where is he now?" you asked.

"What, Lucifer? Ah, he's busy." Mammon pat your shoulder and began to steer you in the opposite direction of Lucifer's office. "Here, I'll walk ya to the bathroom."

"I really think I should go see Lucifer and ask what I did to upset him. Won't you come with me?"

"Nah, he's real busy. Just trust me."

You dragged your heels into the floor. "Mammon."

"What? C'mon, don't call me like that! I can't stand that disappointment in your voice." He loosened his grip. His arm slid off your shoulders, so he grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers and squeezing your palm. "Just get this over with, I'm in a hurry. The first three spins on all slots - even the real pricey ones - are only 25 grimm today. I'll make this worth your time."

You blinked at him. Ditching his responsibilities to go gamble was probably the reason Lucifer gave him this punishment in the first place.

You said plainly, "I'm not doing your chores."

Mammon dropped his smile and exhaled slowly. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand. Clearly, no amount of puppy eyes or begging was going to work. He knew from the start this was a bad idea. He took your hand in both of his, softly massaging it, showing he was regretful for trying to trick you. "Then..." He shifted his weight back and forth, lightly swaying as he considered his next words carefully.

"You wanna help me dupe Levi into doin' it?"

[zephyrchama]

You keep snacks in your pocket for Beelzebub and spare chapstick in case Asmodeus loses his. You send buddy bonuses to Leviathan every day and stay on top of the chore rotation chart.

You know 7 of the most powerful demons in hell so intimately. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true. They know all of your little habits better than you do.

Lucifer tells you, and specifically you, "go to the bathroom now. I know you don't have to, but we're going to be travelling nonstop for 3 hours and you'll need to go sooner or later." His brothers nod in agreement.

A text message pops up at the top of your phone screen. It's from Belphegor. "I bet you're scrolling on your phone right now." He's right. You've been scrolling the demon equivalent of Tumblr for the last half hour.

You have a habit of forgetting where you put things down and Satan is able to find them immediately. Even if you searched a place three times, Satan will be able to find it in seconds.

[zephyrchama]

"What time is it?" you grumbled.

It was dark, and it didn't feel like morning. You were excited that the brothers had come to spend time with you in the human world, and you were sure they were excited, too. But you were also exhausted and wanted a good night's sleep.

You could vaguely make out the outline of Beelzebub in your doorway. There was a weird smell in the air you couldn't identify. Belphegor sat on the edge of your bed, saying, "You can't get mad, okay?"

He rubbed your back in a comforting manner. Beelzebub was fidgeting with his hands and kept glancing over his shoulder. They were acting suspicious. "What's going on?"

"Just remember: you can't get mad at us, okay?" Belphegor repeated.

You groaned in passive agreement.

"I was trying to get a midnight snack and I broke the toaster," Beelzebub confessed.

The room was silent. That was it? You huffed. "That's okay, we'll get a new one tomorrow. They're pretty cheap."

"Actually, he used too much strength and the toast got stuck in it," Belphegor elaborated. You wondered why this story couldn't wait until morning.

"It was taking a long time to cook, and the toast wouldn't pop up. So I kept waiting for it to finish, but the bread started burning." Beelzebub explained. "There was a lot of smoke, and I didn't want the alarm to wake you, so I turned that off first."

"He punched it off the ceiling," Belphegor clarified. "And then the toast caught on fire, so I threw the whole thing in the sink and turned the water on to put it out. It was quick thinking."

"Yeah, except the toaster was still plugged in, so it caused the power to go out and made an even bigger fire." Beelzebub slumped his shoulders. "Sorry."

That's why it was so dark. The power was out for the whole house, not even a single LED was on. You sat up, assisted by Belphegor. With your head away from the pillow, there was a horribly acrid smell of smoke. You can't believe you hadn't noticed it sooner.

"What?" You went to stand up. "Take me to the kitchen," you ordered. The demons hadn't even been in the house for 24 hours and were already causing trouble.

Beelzebub lead the way as your trio moved in silence. You hung the front of your shirt on your nose to try and mitigate the stench of fire. You flipped the kitchen light on out of habit to no avail. Instead, you had to squint.

The cabinets and counter were black and also soaking wet. It looked like something exploded. The fire alarm was scattered into a hundred plastic pieces every which way, and the wall outlet was still smoking. The toaster in question, dented and charred, lay in the middle of the floor. It sat in a puddle of water that trailed from the overflowing sink, which was still running.

"You broke both sink handles?" you exclaimed. They had been snapped clean off and the faucet was bent.

"Yeah, Belphie panicked and couldn't control his strength," Beelzebub told you.

Belphegor put a hand on your shoulder. He was calm and spoke with a soothing tone. "Remember, you can't get mad."

[zephyrchama]

Vampire MC part IV - with Satan

heads up - this is suggestive

(intro/vampire MC masterlist can be found here)

Satan’s room was even more cluttered than usual. Tomes about vampires, nosferatu, jiangshi, and more were strewn about. The two of you were side by side on Satan’s bed with the curtains drawn, surrounded by haphazard stacks of even more books borrowed from the library. The dark candlelit ambiance was incredibly comforting. Being able to see in the dim lighting was such a convenient new trait.

“Can you turn into a bat?” Satan asked casually, as though reading a magazine personality test.

“No, I’ve tried,” you sighed. It was true. Good thing you were alone when you made the attempt, you wound up getting overzealous and ran into a wall.

“What about a firefly? Or snake?”

“I haven’t tried, but I don’t think so? Am I supposed to be able to do that?”

Satan grunted and flipped the book in his hand shut, swapping it out for another one in arm’s reach. “If you could do it, I’m sure you would know by now. Let’s look into what else might have changed.” He skimmed over a passage at random. It was quite impressive how his brilliant green eyes could dart back and forth over the text so quickly. “Have you come into contact with any holy water recently?”

“No…” You raised an eyebrow. “Holy water, in the Devildom?”

“Good point.” On to the next book.

He traced the pages with his finger as he poured over its content. Everything present were books he had read before, and they were all books he had read recently. Satan needed something to fill those long nights you were locked up after your attack. He needed to know what was happening to you and what they were doing to you at the castle. Were you going to be the person he loved when you came home? Were you ever even going to come home?

For the last month, Satan had been afraid. It was emotion he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Something he had very little practice in bottling up like his wrath. The more he read about vampires, the more his fear grew. The more dread pooled in his gut. He would lash out at his brothers and hole up in his room, with each new book digging him into a deeper grave of tumultuous emotions.

An avalanche in his room nearly occurred when he heard you were home. When he saw the group text he had long been avoiding, Satan jumped up and raced to his bedroom door, carefully organized stacks be damned, to find that you had already come to pay him a visit.

“You’ve got to know a lot about vampires, right?” you asked. You were thinner than he remembered. There was something different about your eyes. Though, you didn’t have intestines wrapped around your neck or smoke billowing from your ears. Your size and age remained unchanged. It was too early to rule out extra hair and nipples, as one book described were characteristic of new vampires, but it wasn’t the right time to inquire about that.

“Yeah, come in,” he responded. He tried to hold back the audible high pitched relief in his tone.

Hardly an hour later, it felt just like old times. Reading late into the night, side-by-side with your knees touching. There was a bowl with some uncooked rice grains on the floor, but he was pleased to find that you had no interest in counting it. Satan had discovered a lot of what his books said didn’t apply to you. Whether that was because their contents were obsolete or because you were a special case, he wasn’t sure yet. His priority now was to watch over you and ensure a peaceful transition back to normal life.

‘The blood of a living mammal is a vampire’s required sustenance. It is harvested from the jugular vein or any equivalent artery close to the neck,’ he read. Demons weren’t exactly mammals, but they seemed to qualify.

“What are your eating habits like? Do you always need blood straight from the source, or can you pack some up and have it later?”

You crinkled your nose. “Packed stuff is edible, but it kind of starts to… coagulate. It reminds me of eating apple slices that’ve turned yellow and brown. I’d rather not.”

“Makes sense.” Satan lifted his eyes from the page to observe you with a solemn thoughtfulness. “Does it always have to be the neck?”

You didn’t know. He stared as you mulled the question over by opening and closing your mouth, mimicking the sensation and imagining how it might feel. Your new fangs were cute. “I don’t think so? Blood is blood, doesn’t matter where it comes from.”

“Should we test it out?” Satan suggested.

That was how you wound up on top of him as he lay across his bed. It was a tight squeeze, both of you were too caught up in the experiment to bother moving any books off. Satan suggested starting with his wrist and offered one up to you, but it looked bony and difficult to bite directly. That meant ankles were also out of the question. You felt going for a thigh was too brazen, and so settled on the next softest part you could think of. “What about here?”

You prodded Satan’s side. Just under his ribcage, where the muscle turned fleshy. His leg jerked. His foot sent an encyclopedia thudding to the ground.

“That’s fine,” he remarked, voice softer than normal, face flushed red with the blood you hoped to sample soon. “Ignore the book, it’s an outdated edition. I’ll get it later.”

“You sure?”

Satan was sure, if the decisive act of unbuttoning his shirt was any indicator. Just the bottom few would have sufficed, yet he undid them all and slipped an arm out of its sleeve.

“Can you reach? Should I lift my side more?” he asked.

“No, this looks good,” you replied, in more ways than one.

It was hard to find an optimal angle. You couldn’t just grab his torso and dig in with gusto. Satan was not a sandwich.

Nervous anticipation was visible in the way his stomach moved with each shallow breath. You placed a hand over his naval and latched your other arm over the side of the bed to maintain balance.

You warned him, “I’m gonna do it, okay?”

“Yeah. Any time.” Satan’s patience was tested to the max in such a vulnerable pose. He couldn’t see your face when he looked down. He would have to imagine it as he placed a supportive palm against your back.

Without further ado, you sunk your teeth into his skin. It wasn’t as easy as the neck. You needed to go deeper for any real nourishment and clamp down harder. He winced and sharply inhaled, his stomach fluttered beneath your fingers. Blood trickled into your mouth. It was richer, fattier than neck blood. You let it pool in order to enhance the flavor before lapping it up.

Satan did his best not to squirm under the sensation of your warm tongue pressed against his body, or think about how close you were to his lower half. He tried to keep his breathing steady and not get mad when you adjusted your hand over his naval, causing him to involuntarily bang his head against the headboard. Satan instead focused on the experience as a whole. This was interesting knowledge, he told himself. This kind of information can't be gleaned from a book.

Until now, vampires were pests. If any dared approach him, they’d be swatted away like mosquitoes or burned to a crisp with magic. Now that he’d be living with such a precious one, though, that way of thinking needed to change.

Sucking blood from Satan’s side was strenuous, tiring you out quicker. After one last big gulp, you sat up again, releasing the demon from your clutches. Saliva and blood dripped down your chin until you blotted it with your sleeve. Satan shivered when you lightly touched the fresh puncture marks, now starting to swell. “Did that hurt?”

His face still looked like a red brick wall. He missed you a lot in the time you were gone. As if breaking himself out of a trance, Satan cleared his throat. “No. The pain was negligible.” He lowered his voice to mumble, “it was just challenging in other ways.”

[zephyrchama]

A truly furious Lord Diavolo. It's not something you've ever seen, and it's not something he ever wants to show you.

Just being in the vicinity makes your skin crawl, your ears ring, your throat begins to constrict and it gets hard to breathe. Every cell in your body tells you to run but is too paralyzed to budge.

When he takes an angry step forward, when foot strikes the ground, he causes an earthquake. The floor shatters, the land shakes. Some may get swallowed up. Everyone is brought to their knees before him.

He remains level headed. Even in the throes of rage, Diavolo will remain logical. Even when those around him can't think, when his vast presence overwhelms his surroundings and causes their nervous system to shut down. All that those around him feel is fear, so strongly, as if it's the only feeling they have ever known and will ever know. The dark sky grows darker, a pitch black void of nothing.

Diavolo stands tall. You never really noticed how sharp his fangs are, his nails, his wings, the scathing look in his eye when he is immensely displeased. With his emotions in check, this is still but a fraction of the royal family's power.

[zephyrchama]

Leviathan was absolutely giddy. Part of it was the celebratory demonus his brothers had pressured him into drinking for his birthday celebration. Nobody wanted to start drinking before the birthday boy, and just pushing a congratulatory glass in his hand was the quickest way to get the party started. The alcohol started flowing, the food kept coming, and then it was time for presents.

The second reason why Leviathan couldn’t stop chortling to himself: the latest and greatest limited edition Sucre Frenzy concert DVD, with bonus content. It even came with a companion book full of interviews, costume turnarounds, and choreography breakdowns. Only ten exist in the world. Lucifer wouldn’t divulge how he got it. When Leviathan pulled it from the gift pile, wedged between a pack of socks from Mammon and a fruity shampoo kit from Asmodeus, he screamed. Then he ran to the bathroom to wash his hands before touching it again, as the concert DVD was practically a legendary artifact.

Though he had been to the concert in person, seeing it again in HD with surround sound and a running commentary was an entirely new experience. The very first screening was to be a highly selective affair, reserved for the birthday boy himself and one VIP guest: you. That you were sober enough to actually set up the DVD player was a coincidental bonus.

The two of you had plenty of snacks and pen lights for Levi’s little after-party. The after-party that started while the main party was still winding down. At this point, it was practically expected that the guest of honor would sneak off with you while everyone else turned a blind eye.

Cushions and large plush toys were strewn about the floor for comfort. Some of them were freshly unwrapped presents. Others were your usual seat when you came to game with Leviathan. You dimmed the lights then rushed back over to the TV as he rapidly beckoned you. “Come on! It’s starting, you don’t want to miss- oh! That trumpet - that’s the opening cue!”

There was awed silence for around ten seconds. As soon as the idols descended to the stage, Leviathan jumped to his feet, stumbling a little in his inebriated state. He grabbed his trusty sticks. “Let’s goooo!”

You cheered him on with your wotagei knowledge, having accompanied Leviathan to enough karaoke sessions to know when to shake the lights in what manner. It was a workout. As the first song transitioned into a second, Leviathan pointed at the screen.

“This song was debuted at DeviFesta last year and instantly rose to the top of the charts!” he explained during the interlude. Light stick as his microphone, he belted out lyrics with flawless rhythm. On somewhat unsteady legs, he spun and waved at you, mimicking the fanservice the singers were performing on stage. This concert must have been seared into his memory. You clicked the pen lights to orange and egged him on.

“It makes my heart race - hey! When I look at your face - hey! 'cuz I really really love you~ Chu! Chu! Chu!”

Mid-chant, Leviathan’s focus wavered. He never put much thought into the lyrics before. It was typical idol fluff, the cheap kind that every song had to tug on your heart strings. It didn’t really mean much because idols love all of their fans equally. But to sing it to you, to your face, when you were so close and cheering him on, gave the words actual weight.

You were no stranger to drunk Leviathan’s honesty. It was far from the first time he’d had a few too many drinks and started confessing his true feelings to you. It’s really the only way he can directly say how he feels without stammering through an uphill battle of nerves. The way he suddenly dropped to his knees took you off guard, though. The concert hadn't even been on for ten minutes. You scrambled over with a cushion, asking above the performance, “woah! Are you alright?”

Leviathan averted his eyes. He held his flushed face so low that you couldn’t see how red it was, but during special moments like these, he at least felt the courage to speak his mind.

No more singing. He shuffled forward to softly pick up your hand and give it a squeeze.

“I really, really love you,” he repeated. “I don’t… say it enough… because I’m…” Leviathan’s voice trailed into a mumble as he pressed your hand against his forehead. It was too strenuous to try and hear what he was saying. You expected him to fall asleep. Maybe exhaustion finally caught up with him. The day was long, there was a lot of excitement, the DVD could wait until tomorrow.

Instead, he proved you wrong. He was always proving himself capable in the most unexpected of ways. Leviathan slowly tilted his head to look at you with wavering eyes reminiscent of a sunset. “C-can I hold you?”

You nodded, glad that he was alright. “It’s your birthday. You can do whatever you want.”

Leviathan softly tugged at your arm, dragging you into his lap with clumsy coordination. He handled you like his brand new DVD, with the utmost respect and reverence, but he couldn’t decide if he wanted to look at face or turn you away and hug you from the back. He settled you sideways, with an arm curled around your back and your knees bent above his thigh.

Sucre Frenzy performed in the background despite no one facing their way. Leviathan had a more important fave to pay attention to. One that was live, not something pre-recorded. When the final chorus hit and the idols sang their bit, he placed three kisses on your cheek. Each perfectly timed to a “chu!

“You’re my number one,” he professed into your ear.

Now was your turn to be giddy. With a laugh, you snuggled against Leviathan’s front. His anime t-shirt was one hundred percent cotton. Super soft and Leviathan-scented. “You know I love you too, right?”

He pushed his face into the top of your head with a “gyaaah!” and squeezed you tighter. Too much emotion could easily overwhelm an otaku. “Why do you have to be so… perfect!? You’re the whole package.”

“I should have put a bow on myself, then,” you told him. “Then you could have opened me as your present.”

Leviathan rubbed your back. You could smell the demonus on his breath, sweet and fragrant, as he half hummed a tune, half whined knowing he was going to die of embarrassment in the morning. In the moment, though, this sounded like a pretty suave thing to say: “Then, maybe next year, that’s not such a bad idea... You as my birthday present.”

It could get cold on the tiled floor of Leviathan's bedroom, yet the two of you together felt nice and toasty. He lifted his knees a speck, tilting your body towards his. It made it easier for you to rest your chin on his shoulder. He flinched at every little touch, an uncontrollable gut reaction that sent cold shivers up his veins like lightning, but soon found himself craving more.

“It’s still not too late this year," you suggested.

[zephyrchama]

Animal Crossing: New Horizons allows for 8 players to live on one island. That also happens to be the total number of demons (and human) living in the House of Lamentation. 🤔

[zephyrchama]

What is "karate for self defense against demons"

It might be a form of martial arts invented by Luke, for Luke. He might disappear for five minutes, only to come right back in a crisp white uniform with a blue belt wrapped around it (he's no novice but he still has much to master, and he likes the blue).

He might go, "hey! Look at this!" and follow it up with a loud "hyah!" Knees are shoulder length apart. His hands are fists, his leg shows amazing flexibility as he kicks high into the air. He could kick his own nose if he uses too much force, but he doesn't. That's how skilled he is.

He almost doesn't stumble a little, either. It's incredibly impressive and Luke is sure to immediately incapacitate any evil demons with ill intentions. No time to rest, he transitions straight into a barrage of punches. He really shows the air who's boss.

The whole thing is wrapped up with a graceful bow in your direction, the perfect elegant flourish to end an amazing feat of strength. When he eventually learns how to flip people, Luke is going to be literally unstoppable.

[zephyrchama]

Obey Me! headcanons that I've wanted to write about but thought they were too silly, so I'm compiling a list of them for April Fool's Day.

Simeon once bought a souvenir for Michael at the RAD school store. It's a collection of multicolored math tools called The Seven Rulers.

When it's Leviathan's turn to cook, he loosely bases the dinner menu on whatever food he saw in anime that week.

Beelzebub and Belphegor are still having that rock-paper-scissors battle over who has to take out the trash (it was mentioned in an audio drama to have been going on for a month). They'll both suddenly do a round of rock-paper-scissors, at the most random of times and without any prior discussion.

Thirteen's hair sometimes has a glamorous blowout appearance because of the traps that explode while she's working on them.

When the brothers do something stupid during a student council meeting, Barbatos will look at MC the same way characters on The Office look into a camera.

Satan once walked into a tree while distracted, thought it was a demon, and flew into a rage at the tree. The tree never recovered and is now a cursed landmark.

Luke knows some karate for self defense against demons. Sometimes he does random karate demonstrations to impress MC. He won't do this in front of the brothers because they mock him for being adorable, and because you never reveal your weapons to the enemy.

[zephyrchama]

Asmodeus with your picture taped to the mirror of his vanity. It's decorated in stickers and marker drawings, with a pink paper border that's starting to dull and sag with age. It will be okay, though. That's what he tells himself. Its got a protective charm on it now.

Asmodeus aligns his face next to yours when he does his hair and makeup. He talks to photo-you about his day, about his brothers, about the jobs he's been hired to do. It's awful lonely when you don't talk back.

Being worlds apart is tough.