ZephyrChama's Obey Me! Masterpost

Updated October 7th, 2024.

Hi! I'm zephyrchama. I don't read much fanfic but it seemed fun and I wanted to try getting closer to the fandom, so I started writing Obey Me stuff as a self indulgent treat. As this is a side blog that I never expected to get followers, I can't follow or like anybody's posts or send asks from it, only with my main blog. I've also started writing some Twisted Wonderland stuff on another blog.

More info about me can be found at the bottom of this post.

You can find almost everything I've written in these links, sorted from shortest content to longest. Though, it is possible I've missed a few stories.

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Headcanons

Self explanatory, these are headcanons! My shortest posts, some are even just a sentence long.

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Longer Headcanons and Super Short Writings

This is for more fleshed out ideas: headcanons that are 2 paragraphs and longer or really short stories/ideas.

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Short Stories / Detailed Headcanon Lists

These are posts with multiple paragraphs. Detailed headcanon lists with at least a paragraph per character and fics that aren't a page long.

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Fics

Full one shot stories.

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Ask Requests

Obey Me! posts that are submitted requests.

My ask box is always open and I"m happy to receive requests! Please know that it may take me literal ages to respond as there is a large backlog, but I earnestly think about every submission and greatly appreciate each ask. If you praise me, I'm probably going to hoard the ask and smile and giggle every time I see it.

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Series

Multi-part fanfics. Usually one segment for each character or segments that can be read as one-shots but are part of a bigger tale.

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More about me!

I've been playing Obey Me! since literally the day the OG was released. I am a hardcore cosplayer so whenever a convention is coming up this blog will get slow as I focus on sewing. I'm close to 30 years old. I'm ace, so this blog has suggestive content but won't really get more intense than that. Everything on this blog is SFW. I have an A03 account courtesy of a friend who referred me, but it's pretty barren and mostly used to cross post more popular stories. Anything explicit I write will go on the AO3 with proper tags.

My asks are open but expect a really slow response because I am so shy hkgahkj. I take requests but no guarantee I'll write them, or it may take several months. I don't do much proofreading at all so I'm very open to constructive critique, if you see a typo please let me know! Thanks for reading.

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. 🤔

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.

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.

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.

Satan would be absolutely amazing at scavenger hunts/treasure hunts. A puzzle that you solve by putting together various clues? Sign him up, immediately.

He'll figure out the riddles. He'll decode any ciphers. The tilt-to-read text is a piece of cake. They're almost a little too underwhelming, but the joy of discovering things with you is never a letdown.

Leviathan aims to gradually raise your affection meter by bringing you one (1) small gift each day. He will get you something nice on occasion, but those presents are typically reserved for special events such as birthdays and holidays, during which any increases in affection are doubled.

You once mentioned a sticker at a discount store looked cool and he proceeded to gift you that sticker 26 days in a row. He called it min-maxing.

A thin line of table salt adorned the floor in front of your bedroom. You stood behind it and stared at the demons outside of your doorway. They were staring at the salt.

Leviathan laughed. It reminded him of a low-level defense from a tower defense game. "Is that supposed to keep us out? lol."

"Yeah. I think it's working," you said.

Satan put a hand on his hip. As far as he could tell, it was plain old table salt. No magical properties whatsoever. "How so?"

"Well, none of you are crossing it. Clearly, it's having some kind of effect."

Mammon balked. "Obviously, it's because we're respectin' your privacy!" He stood closest to the line, wanting to cross it most of all.

"You're respecting my privacy by... standing right outside my door?"

Mammon opened his mouth to counter, only to come up with nothing. He stood there with his fists clenched. The feather on his belt swayed as he tapped a foot impatiently, causing the nearest salt to shift a little.

The noise annoyed Asmodeus. "Mammon, go walk through the salt."

"Why me!?"

"This is ridiculous." Lucifer crossed his arms. "Clean this up. I don't even want to know how this will damage the floors if you leave it."

"It's not even doing anything," Satan pointed out.

"If it's not doing anything, then one of you should cross it," you suggested.

"Why don't you come out to us?" Belphegor proposed. "There's only one of you, seems more fair."

"Yeah!" Asmodeus took a step away from the salt, careful not to get any on his shoes, and raised his hands. "You can run into my arms if you'd like. I'll be sure to catch you."

Their stubbornness astounded you. "Or... You guys can just admit you don't want to cross this salt."

"It's regular salt." Beelzebub knew exactly what the substance was as soon as he laid eyes on it. Plus, the smell was unmistakable. His claim was irrefutable.

"Yes, exactly. Thank you, Beel. I've seen you eat it many times." You had even taken the bag from the shared kitchen.

"Did you try walking over it?" Leviathan asked. "How are we supposed to cross it if you won't?"

"I don't need to. I'm in my room."

"You should come to our room," Belphegor offered. He was getting tired of standing around.

"Come out this instant," Lucifer ordered.

You thought about it for a whopping two seconds. "I think I'm good. I'll be in my room. If any of you need me, feel free to come in."

You retreated back inside with the rest of the half-empty salt bag. The brothers stared at you with a mix of impatience and disbelief until the wall blocked you from view.

Imagine hiding food in the HoL's kitchen. You place your treats in the very back of the tallest shelf, which was mostly cobwebs and dust that took you 20 minutes to reach.

Later, you enter the kitchen and find Beelzebub chowing down on your food. It goes down exactly like this:

Lucifer with a habit of fussing over you in slightly sadistic ways. He's a busybody who cannot stop working. When he does have free time, he needs something to fill it, and you are the perfect target.

He isn't excessive about it. Any being worth standing next to the Avatar of Pride is already exceptional in their own right. He trusts your judgement, he knows you're more than capable. You've proven that time and time again.

Yet there's something about you that he just can't leave alone. The feeling that fills Lucifer when he sees you is almost as strong as his sin. It's magnetic and addicting.

Lucifer combs lint off your clothes and fixes even the most minor parts of your appearance. You are a source of his pride, after all.

He'll give you accessories, charms. Anything in his color that marks you as his. He won't be upset if you refuse to wear them, though he will feel the need to show others that you belong to him in other ways.

He likes to catch you off guard, to suddenly loom over you just to brush a stray leaf off the back of your head. Your flustered expression always brings a mischievous smile to his face.

He'll turn your face towards his and lean in, so close that the smell of his breath fills your nose, just to inform you that "you have a bit of sleep next to your eye. Wipe it off."

He seems like the perfect gentleman, escorting you and guiding you out of harm's way. It's a ploy to keep you in arm's reach. With a single tug he can drag you away from danger and straight to his side. Whether it be a passing vehicle, a stray spell shooting through the air, or a sudden downpour. Or maybe he just likes to make up excuses to hold you against him.

You'd be most safe with his arms wrapped around you in a private room locked from the inside, but this much should be sufficient in public.

Leviathan took a deep breath. He had always wanted to try this. It was silly, and a stupid idea, and if anybody outside of his close circle found out about it he'd probably perish on the spot from embarrassment. But it looked so fun. What otaku wouldn't want to try this at least once in their life?

He had been ready and in position for an hour. In fact, Leviathan didn't sleep at all last night. He pulled an all-nighter watching season five of Welcome to Human School! and decided to recreate this classic cliche in a rare act of spontaneity after seeing it play out on TV for the ten thousandth time.

The lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him, exacerbated by nerves and an early morning chill that caused his shoulders to shake, but he would not give up. He had to know what it was like. Leviathan leaned his head against the House of Lamentation's stone exterior. He refreshed his Devilgram feed for the tenth time and fiddled with the lowest button on his shirt while standing in wait. It was important that his appearance looked slovenly, like this was spontaneous and he had to rush to get dressed. The details had to be perfect.

Noise began to stir around the corner. Leviathan rushed to shove his phone into a pocket and stuffed his mouth with slightly stale buttered bread. It was go time.

Several dozen feet away, you emerged from the house. You paused in the doorway, checking to ensure last night's homework was in your bag and not still on the desk in your room. You had to be at school quite early and wouldn't have time before class to come back if you forgot something. Luckily, all was fine. The heavy door swung shut behind you. As you began to walk down the cobbled steps, something caught your eye. Something big and fast in a RAD uniform, speeding at you and screaming.

Leviathan was not actually screaming. He was just shouting, "I'm late! I'm late!" over and over through a wad of carbs. You didn't have much time to process that fact before he slammed into you like an amateur sumo wrestler.

You shrieked. Leviathan shrieked. The two of you tumbled down the stone steps in a mass of confusion until you landed on top of the nerdy demon like another cliche anime trope. However, Leviathan had no time to celebrate this weeby double whammy. He grabbed your head in a panic and coughed out a gross mouthful of bread to ask, "A-are you okay!?"

Your sturdy uniform and the purple haired demon had luckily protected you from the worst. Leviathan released your face and hovered his hands by your sides as you felt around for bruises, trying to get your bearings. He let out a pained groan when you accidentally elbowed him in the stomach while trying to stand up.

The surroundings were calm. No sign of danger. You scrambled to pick up your bag and exclaimed, "What was that!?"

"I... I'm late for school." That was Leviathan's explanation. He couldn't confess any further. This was not the romantic comedy scenario he envisioned. His mouth was dry. Class didn't even start for another two hours. He realized now what a dumb plan this truly was. As he lay on the hard ground, he sort of wished it would open up and swallow him whole, but your outstretched hand of kindness was a nice consolation.

If you haven't checked out the Leviathan fanzine yet, be sure to check it out here! It's free! It's so many pages of art and writing! It's all about Levi!

I wasn't sure if I should also post it here or not, but I've uploaded my piece to Ao3 (which I'm still not 100% sure how to use). It's available to read here if you're unable to download the zine.

The piece I contributed for the separate NSFW DLC will be linked under the read more.

It's impossible to turn Beelzebub into an idiot sandwich. His reflexes are too fast. He'll eat both slices before they make skin contact with his face, even when he's asleep.

Belphegor? He's an easy target. You can turn him into an idiot sandwich any day. He stares boredly into your eyes as you snicker over your weird human joke and wedge his face in between two fresh pieces of bread. Sometimes, you can squish the bread and it will stay stuck to Belphegor's cheek even after you let go.

But not Beelzebub. He's just built different. The type of bread doesn't matter, nor does the presence of any other fillings. He will always catch you in the act. He's too skilled.

Mammon, quiet for once, hunched over in his room diligently sewing the Miss Em dolls.

Cutting out old t-shirts he hasn't worn in centuries and using bits of fabric that have been collecting dust around the house. Bedsheets, moth-eaten towels, old stained tablecloths. Cutting around the soiled parts so that his end product looks pretty.

Relying partially on a video tutorial he listened to the other day and partially on pure gut instinct to get these dolls done. A few millennia of random part time jobs has gifted him with a lot of secondhand knowledge in various fields.

Mammon, attempting to thread a sewing needle and swearing when he pricks his finger. It doesn't hurt, not when compared to the loneliness he feels, but it sure is annoying. He wipes his hand on the unused fabric scraps before chucking them into a random corner for Future Mammon to clean up, alongside all the tiny bits of thread littering the floor.

Clumsily stitching the Miss Ems together with an uneven hand that gets better over time. You can see the difference in the stitching between dolls.

In some places the thread is too tight and the fabric puckers. In others it's too loose and the seam looks like it will fall apart. Those all aren't up to his standards. He'll gently rip them apart and put them back together again as many times as it takes. Anything to get his mind off of how much he misses you.