Chapter Text
(…opening chat)
The Brothers and the Demon Lord (9)
Diavolo: Is anyone at the House of Lamentation currently?
Leviathan: I think Mammon was napping before I went to my con.
Mammon: I'm at
Mammon: school
Lucifer: You're trying to skip the extracurricular again, aren't you?
Lucifer:
Mammon:
Mammon: No, I swear I actually am!
Asmodeus: As much as I'd regularly agree with Lucifer, I know Mammon is at RAD. We just parted ways.
Satan: I'm home because it's my day to cook.
Diavolo: Wonderful!
Satan: Why do you ask, Lord Diavolo?
Barbatos: The spell for Belphegor’s emotional support human went wrong spontaneously, and the human was teleported inside of your home instead.
Diavolo: I'm sure she's very scared so please don't frighten her further.
Satan: Noted.
Beelzebub: Is the contract on her yet?
Barbatos: We were supposed to put it on the human when she arrived.
Belphegor: What contract?
Beelzebub: …
Lucifer: Belphie, where are you right now?
Belphegor: Napping in the Planetarium.
Belphegor: Why?
Belphegor: I don't suppose you want me to go talk to a human immediately. I just got home this morning.
Belphegor: Well, I am already awake because of this chat.
Satan
: 
Satan: Let me leave the food on simmer.
[Satan has gone offline.]
Belphegor:
[Barbatos has gone offline.]
[Lucifer has gone offline.]
Belphegor: Am I missing something?
Belphegor: Beel, fill me in.
Beelzebub: I'm sorry, Belphie. I'll do it after?
[Beelzebub has gone offline.]
(closing chat…)
If someone told Satan just a week ago that he would be darting like a spooked cat while on hunt to find a human in his house, he'd probably call them a fool. Yet here he is opening and shutting doors with rapid succession and preforming sensory enhancement to find a human he has never ever seen before. It shouldn't be that hard to locate a stray heartbeat and scent, but his concern was hindering his progress. Nobody actually trusted Belphie to uphold his end of the agreement other than Beel. The contract is necessary to keep the human's body from breaking to pieces within the first week of it being in the Devildom.
He stops suddenly when he hears an unfamiliar coughing coming from the Common Room. The demon focuses more. Sure enough, a fast heartbeat is inside the room. He retraces his steps and enters, eyes scanning the area for the human. He finds them easily. The mortal is on the chandelier. The avatar of wrath tries to gentle his expression.
They don't seem to have noticed me yet.
His vigilance increases as his heart rate calms. He can sense a foreign magic. It is so faint that he wouldn't have detected it without the sensory enhancement he had cloaked himself in, considering his current state of focus. The magic covers the entire room in a net's fashion yet seems to have no intents other than clinging to the walls, floor, and ceiling, like a veil or wiring. A few strings cling to him like snags on a dress would cling to a bur.
"Human, are you well?" Satan calls tentatively in English, a language he knows most humans have familiarity with, "I mean you no harm, but I would like to know if you have any injuries. Teleportation between realms can be painful."
The human twists to face the avatar of wrath. They are wide-eyed with a seemingly blank expression. They stare in contemplation for a few seconds before jumping. Satan rushes forward to catch the reckless being. Their face scrunches up repeatedly upon contact. The action of the avatar of wrath seems to only frustrate them as they thrash, causing him to drop them. They take it as a moment to distance themselves, roll to the side, and stand up. Their curious gaze continues to scan the demon, brows now furrowed.
"Who are you and what do you want in having me here? You were looking for me when you were running through the halls. I know because you ceased the action once I coughed. That indicates that you knew I was here but didn't know where. You expected me in some form. Teleportation involves someone making a portal. There's more than one person involved in this abduction. Any magician worth their salt can find their own portal's signature. If you've taken me to get hold of my family, I encourage you to put me back in my home. Only misfortune befalls those who entangle themselves in affairs of this kind. He isn't home yet, and if enough time passes, your magic's scent will be covered by my own. That's the best I could do for you for this honest mistake."
Every word seems practiced from her lips despite how terrifyingly fast she has suspected the entire affair. It is a her, Satan realizes quickly. Her voice is low and throaty yet has a croon to it. It is an odd accent, not one he's heard from any region of earth. It reminds him of much younger days of the realm. She is speaking the most common tongue that magic users know. Testing him, he realizes. If he answers, she'll know he knows a tongue only sorcerers, witches, wizards, and warlocks are privy to. If he doesn't, she'll change tactics until she can figure out where he is from and who he is. She is cunning and quick on her feet for certain. This unexpected mystery thrills him like a good novel. He wants to keep playing but knows time is limited.
"I am Satan, avatar of wrath," he changes to the capital's variation of a demonic tongue, "You are currently in the House of Lamentation. You were supposed to arrive in the Demon Lord's Castle. I apologize for the mix-up."
The human washes their expression away but stiffens noticeably. The magic boxing the room disappears and curls around her arteries.
"I apologize for my lack of fluency in this tongue. My study references are from several centuries ago. Did you say that I am in Satan's castle?"
She speaks an older variant of formal demonic. Her clear pronunciation and garbled accent surprise him.
"I am Satan," he matches her speech, "You are in the House of Lamentation."
She looks confused, "Then why did you avoid my question when you would know the tongue of magic, lord of wrath?"
He takes a step forward. She observes but does not move, magic simply coiling looser and draped across more of her form. It invites him to take another and another. Humans are usually easy to read, but this one is like a chalk drawing after a snow. Everything is smeared and frozen.
"You were the one who sought to test my knowledge with word games. I simply played along," he is before her now, "Pardon the misunderstanding. Will you answer my queries now?"
She nods, neck hairs rising, "I am well. My head hurts a bit, but it has nothing to do with the teleportation. My arms do tingle—"
He lifts her sleeves immediately.
"Excuse me."
He feels her magic form around her body in a defense shield, but it does not bother him. It is to be expected if she knows what type of demon he is.
"Your limbs all look intact. That's good. They're the most frequent to go missing without the owner feeling their absence."
He lets go of her with his investigations over.
"Assuming you know nothing of the situation, let me explain things to you. You are currently in the Devildom, if the language did not inform you. You were supposed to be summoned to the Demon Lord's Castle and have everything explained to you there. I will be escorting you there now, if your body is up to it. I would like to avoid you meeting with other demons until everything is settled."
When she does not answer, he tries a different tactic, "Would you like to sit down?"
She nods and heads to the couch, plopping down immediately. Satan can't read her expression. It is seemingly frozen in neutrality, yet the way her magic flickered across her skin indicated an internal conflict. It isn't his business how his brother's soon to be service human is feeling. He shoots a text to Lucifer and Barbatos separately to inform them before looking at her again. He doesn't say anything. He's not a demon known for words of understanding. Words of advice or ideas, perhaps, but he is not the one others often run to when they need emotional advise, just logical.
"Is it the Demon King or his heir who summons me? I am not familiar with Devildom history, but I believe the prince is currently reigning in his place."
Her words are ridiculously formal. It reminds him of a character from a book. If she called him sire, he wouldn't be surprised.
"Lord Diavolo, heir to the throne, is the demon who ordered your summoning."
She stands up immediately.
"Let us be off then. I have no quarrel for the rulers of this realm."
Satan nods and extends a hand. She takes is, but he is not fooled into believing that her guard is down. Her magic is still draped over her form like chain mail.
"What is your name, human?" he asks her as they leave the house.
She shakes her head, "Ewa, child of companion. "
Her name is said in a human tongue, but her surname is replaced with its equivalent in demonic. Satan wonders if it makes spelling easier.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ewa."
"The pleasure is mine, lord of wrath."
She settles in step beside him and keeps up. He could forget she was there if not for the defensive magic.
•••
Belphegor arrives in the student council room just as the last of his brothers do. He is irritated, of course. When he located where he knew the human to be located, her and his brother's magic trailed out of the house. He ended up half walking half teleporting all the way to RAD. His drowsiness is not gone, just disturbed. He never sleep properly to begin with.
Could they have not texted me to just meet them there?
His gaze sharpens with a quick mental incantation, range of vision widening without moving his eyes. He is going to meet some human and not supposed to act hostile towards them. Changing into demonic form would look like a threat. Spells will have to be his compromise.
"Belphegor, you're here!" Diavolo's gratingly merry voice greets him, "I would like the contract to be cast before we officially start the meeting. It will make things go faster."
"Lord Diavolo," he hopes the poison in his smile finds its way into the prince's system, "What sort of contract is this?"
"It is for the safety and comfort of the human. I need your verbal consent to activate it. She does not need to say a word for it to activate."
The lord of sloth is reminded of who he is speaking to. A crown prince who is a sentence away from being the only mentioned ruler yet already performing the duties of such—Lord Diavolo does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants and only asks opinions when it is a yes or no question. He couldn't imagine feeling bad for the human, but the predicament is similar. They are both trapped beneath this tyrant for varying reasons. Being simply released and made to play cloudy cake was too easy to be all the prince could want from him. A tie of requited? It sounds like a punishment his brother would subject him to under supervision. He is more than supervised. If anything, this specialty is too good for the human. Breaking his own laws and taboos to keep a sin in line—honestly, would Diavolo stop at anything?
Is it a wonder the denizens glorify him? He's the epitome of truly demonic demeanor. He even has the smile and disarming laugh.
"How long will it last?"
Belphegor refuses to sign up for this supervision without his own knowledge of autonomy. He's a ruler in this realm, regardless of the convict status.
"How long will your hatred last?"
Satan chokes and whips his head towards his brother. He must feel his rage boiling without appearance. The youngest doubts that he heard the context while staring at the human so intently, but the brief spike of emotions is enough to alert him. He mutes his treacherous thoughts in the case they become loud enough that the middle sibling cannot help hearing them.
"The average human life span is pretty short," he grits.The prince chuckles, "Then, I suppose it will be a crunch course on emotions!"
Belphegor growls andand slices himself.
"I consent to the oath of requited."
Lucifer and Mammon both look surprised. He must be using an offensive tone from the reactions around him. He wouldn't find himself caring if he cursed the ruler out. His fate is in the soon-to-be Demon Lord's hands, and the self-confident bastard knows it. Diavolo has not lost his smile. The Avatar of Sloth does not allow himself to lose his either.
This is such a stupid game of falsehood.
He feels sick. He's as much of a liar as the next demon, but he hates the falseness of Diavolo more than he enjoys deception. How do his brothers not protest this blatant hypocrisy? Is he the only one not blinded to the flaws? Lucifer is riding the prince's dick harder than all of them combined, yet he's seen as the logical one.
A jolting tug on his soul alerts him of the sealed contract. The human's soul hums distantly in a way he can grasp at but not quite not qui-
The human jolts and looks around with an elevated heart rate.
Diavolo's smile tightens, "I wouldn't-"
Belphegor pulls carelessly and receives a staggering direct pain to his innermost being. Barbatos exhales differently than usual, perhaps a laugh. It's been millennia since anything could even graze his soul.
That's why it was made illegal...only a demon with demonus in their veins or lovesickness would subject themselves to that .
"That's settled, and everyone is here!" Lord Diavolo raises his voice, "We can begin the explanation."
The surprisingly quiet human stiffens (still rubbing her chest), turns around, approaches Diavolo, and waits a respectful distance away. It would look well-bred but confident if not for what he can detect is a nervous tell, its arms crossed in what seems security but actually as a comfort.
I hope it has a raging headache by the time he shuts his yap.