Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The past hour had been, to put it lightly, absolutely fucking bizarre.

You thought it might be a dream at first. Standing in a huge, gothic assembly hall, staring up at five abnormally attractive men who all claimed to be demons, and being told that the next year of your life was to be spent in literal hell, acting as some sort of guinea pig in an inter-realm exchange student program? How could it not be a dream?

But the longer things dragged on, the more it sunk in that it was all really happening. You really were in a different world. Those guys were actual, literal demons. Words like “classes” and “written report” barely registered as you struggled to wrap your mind around the drastic turn your life had suddenly taken. Would you be able to communicate with anyone back home? Or were you just going to drop off the face of the earth for an entire year? God, how were people going to react when they realized you had just disappeared?

And then some white-haired demon, one of the brothers, because apparently most of these guys were brothers—Mammon was his name?—was shouting at you, and you weren’t taking any of it in; your brain had said, “you know what? No thanks,” and stepped out for the night, leaving you to nod along with whatever was being said without actually comprehending anything. That seemed to be the best tactic with this Mammon guy, anyway; he talked so much you probably wouldn’t have been able to get a word in if you’d tried.

He stormed out and you followed, and you hoped you weren’t supposed to remember the route because you’d been too busy staring at the scenery to pay attention. It all looked shockingly normal, sidewalks and street lamps and landscaped flowerbeds. Bathed in the dim, dusky light of a much larger than normal moon, everything felt a little eerie, but it was a far cry from the blighted hellscape that you’d expected.

The building Mammon led you to, which he called “The House of Lamentation,” (there was the spooky shit you had been waiting for) was an enormous, stately mansion that would have looked right at home in a horror movie. Under different circumstances, you would have loved to take the time to explore, but your tour guide was clearly eager to be rid of you and you weren’t in any state to go wandering around by yourself. You kept silent as he stomped through the halls, eventually depositing you outside a door and letting you know that he’d probably be along to fetch you for breakfast in the morning, although he certainly didn’t say it that kindly.

And then you were alone.

And that’s how you got here, sprawled on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar house, staring at an ivy-covered wall and wondering what the hell had just happened. It all seemed incredibly rushed, given what a huge deal it was. A huge deal to you, at least. You hadn’t even signed any paperwork. Was there going to be some sort of orientation? How did they expect you to get supplies?

You had no clothes, other than the ones you were wearing (thank God you weren’t in pajamas or something, that embarrassment on top of everything else might have sent you over the edge), no toothbrush, literally nothing at all to your name. Maybe you’d get an allowance. Or maybe they didn’t give a shit and you were going to have to find a way to get the things you needed yourself. One of the men, though—his name might have been Diavolo?—the one who said he was a prince and who seemed to be in charge of this whole situation, he seemed nice, and he did give you a free phone.

You pulled the device out and examined it. It was easily mistakable for a regular, human world smartphone, which led you to wonder whether demons had taken the design from humans or if humans had gleaned inspiration from demons. Unlocking it revealed a small selection of apps. Most resembled the default apps on your own phone—messages, contacts, camera, the basics. You assumed the one labeled “tasks” was for the school work that had been mentioned.

Why was there a school down here anyway? Weren’t demons like, immortal? What was the point?

You tossed the phone down with a sigh. How long would it take for people to realize something was up back home? The thought of everyone worrying and searching for you twisted your insides in a way that brought tears to your eyes. Hopefully you would be able to let them know you were okay.

For now, there was no use dwelling on it. You sat up and gave your new room a more thorough once-over, looking for anything to distract you from falling into unpleasant thoughts.

The space was, like a lot of what you had seen so far, surprising. A seemingly live tree dominated one corner, emerging from the wall and forming a leafy canopy over the bed. Small lanterns hung from the branches. There was a large, ornate rug spread across the floor, a full sized table and chairs, a bookcase complete with books and knickknacks, an empty closet, and a chest of drawers. Despite all the dark wood and exposed stone, it managed to avoid looking like a dungeon, and actually felt kind of cozy.

On the far end of the room, a door opened to an adjoining area you couldn’t make out from the bed. It ended up being a bathroom. A really nice bathroom. Taking a long, hot soak in the tub sounded fantastic at the moment, but anxiety over one of those brothers coming around kept you from indulging. It hadn’t really been made clear whether you were just going to be left alone until tomorrow or if anyone would be stopping by to continue your informal introduction to this place.

You didn’t bother checking out the books they had provided, knowing you wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to read right now. So, back onto the bed it was. Sleeping seemed like the best and frankly only option, even though you were so wound up it would be a miracle if you managed to fall asleep anytime soon. Normally, you’d do something to relax, maybe listen to some music, watch a couple videos, scroll social media until your eyes got heavy.

You retrieved the phone—sorry, “DDD,” they’d called it, whatever that stood for—and opened it up again. If the device itself was so similar to those in the human world, maybe the apps would be, too.

Scrolling through the demon equivalent to the app store proved this assumption to be true. Comically so, in fact. Seeing names like “Devilgram” and “Akuzon,” accompanied by logos that blatantly imitated familiar ones from back home, clarified your theory somewhat about who might have copied whose technology. You went ahead and downloaded several apps from the “Most Popular” page.

The demonic version of Youtube ended up providing a rabbit hole of content to distract you over the next few hours. Cooking tutorials, video game playthroughs, fashion hauls, vlogs…. It was simultaneously comforting and unsettling, how human it all was (or sometimes just unsettling, like when the suggested videos included titles like “How to Filet a Body” and “Guaranteed Ways to Snare a Soul”).

As you watched, your thoughts drifted to the demons you’d been introduced to so far. Each of the brothers were explained to hold dominion over one of the seven deadly sins. Mammon, the Avatar of Greed and your reluctant tour guide, hadn’t made a great first impression. He’d done a lot of grumbling and complaining, and though you were sure he could kill you on a whim, he did fold without much of a fight when given orders by someone else. Maybe (hopefully) he was more bark than bite.

The red eyed demon who’d explained most of this situation to you, alongside Diavolo, had introduced himself as Lucifer, the eldest of the bunch and Avatar of Pride. His merciless persona, you didn’t doubt one bit. That man radiated danger. His piercing, calculated gaze elicited a variety of feelings—the feeling of being a prey animal, cornered by a predator; the feeling that he wasn’t so much looking at you but into you, like he could read your thoughts or see your very soul (for all you knew, he could); the feeling of a slight blush rising to your face because he was awfully attractive. Not that they weren’t all attractive, he just had this…. charming aura about him. Probably like how carnivorous plants lured in unsuspecting insects with a sweet scent. And you weren’t much more than an insect to these demons, were you?

The blonde one, Satan, seemed fine. Then again, Lucifer had warned you that as the Avatar of Wrath, his pleasant facade was exactly that—a facade. Time would have to tell.

The teasing, strawberry-blonde Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, felt the least overtly threatening out of all of them. Part of it was probably his slighter build and softer features, coupled with a more cheery demeanor compared to his brothers. If incessant flirting was the worst you had to endure from him, he might not be half bad.

The final brother you’d been introduced to, Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony, was the exact opposite. You hadn’t even seen him up close and the sheer size of him was still enough to intimidate you. And of course there was the whole, “he might eat you” thing they’d dropped so casually. What a comfort, knowing that at least one of the people you were sharing a living space with had to make an active effort not to literally have you for dinner.

Beyond that, there were presumably two more brothers you had yet to meet: sloth and envy. You couldn’t even begin to guess what they’d be like, you just crossed your fingers that they’d be at least a little friendly and not inclined towards the taste of human flesh.

Hours later, your mind swimming with thoughts of demon housemates and Deviltube videos and mystery schoolwork, you finally grew tired enough to set your DDD aside and drift into an uneasy sleep. A year wasn’t that long. You’d get through this somehow, one day at a time.

Hopefully.

Chapter Text

You hadn’t set an alarm the night before, not knowing when exactly breakfast would be, but it ended up not being an issue. You woke up plenty early and couldn’t manage to fall back asleep. Strangely enough, it still looked like the middle of the night outside. Maybe endless darkness was just a thing down here. It was hell, after all.

You briefly wondered if the demon prince had considered the effects of vitamin D deficiency or seasonal affective disorder before dropping a human into a place with no sunlight. If he didn’t even think kidnapping someone for a year was worth a heads up, though, probably not.

The air outside your blankets was chilly enough to raise goosebumps on your arms. The feeling of day-old, slept-in clothes was also not pleasant.

Not that you had any soap, but you stepped into the bathroom to take a shower anyway, just to rinse the grimy feeling from your skin, and were pleasantly surprised to find they had actually stocked you with a few basic toiletries. It did take some doing to find a suitable water temperature between “the surface of the sun” and “winter in Antarctica,” though. Apparently demons were a little hardier than the average human. You finished quickly, brushed your teeth and reluctantly put your dirty clothes back on.

You didn’t have long to wait before Mammon came around.

“Hey! Human!” he called, banging on the door. “Time to get your ass outta bed! And hurry it up, cause I ain’t gonna stand around waiting!”

You slid your DDD into a back pocket and checked in the mirror that you looked somewhat presentable (your damp hair and wrinkled clothes left a lot to be desired), and opened the door on Mammon with his fist raised to start knocking again.

“Oh,” he said, some of his bluster lost at being caught off guard. “I thought you’d be sleeping.” He continued before you had a chance to respond, “You better always be that quick when I tell you to do something! Come on, we gotta get to breakfast before Beel eats it all.”

He took off down the hall at a brisk pace, and you followed a short distance behind. Thankfully the path to the dining room was fairly straightforward. You were confident you’d be able to find it on your own if no one came by to escort you tomorrow. Mammon grumbled to himself the whole way, his attention fixed on his DDD, not sparing you a single glance even as the two of you arrived at the table and you slid hesitantly into the chair next to him.

Lucifer, Satan, and Beelzebub were already seated—Lucifer at the head of the table, Satan to your right, and Beelzebub across from you. Lucifer was busy flipping through a small stack of papers, but he offered you a brief glance and a cool, “Good morning,” once you had settled.

“Good morning,” you said back.

Neither of the other brothers acknowledged you, Satan absorbed in a book and Beelzebub too preoccupied with heaping an incomprehensible amount of food onto his plate. Was it physically possible for him to actually eat that much? Because if it was, that was kind of terrifying.

You turned your attention to the dishes laid out in front of you. Some of them looked familiar; there were omelets and toast and a pitcher of juice. Other things were... Questionable. Bits and pieces of unfamiliar creatures, weird colors, odd smells. You hesitated to take anything, unsure of what was even safe for you to consume.

“It’s not poisonous.”

You almost jumped at the sound of Satan’s voice. He had lowered his book, and his eyes, a striking shade of blue-green, were on you.

“The food,” he clarified, expression somewhere between amused and indifferent. “You can eat it. Well,” he pointed to one of the jars of jam next to the toast, “not that. But everything else should be fine.”

You nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

Satan: seems like a decent person, you added to your mental profile of the brothers while gingerly placing one omelet and a spoonful of some kind of fruit slices onto your plate. The omelet wasn’t bad, but definitely didn’t taste like it was made with any type of eggs you had ever tried. The fruit left an unpleasant, bitter flavor on your tongue.

Beelzebub must have noticed your reaction to it, because he paused shoveling food into his mouth just long enough to say, “If you don’t like it, I’ll take the rest,” his fork already poised to snatch it from your plate.

“Sure.” You pushed it towards him and he wasted no time adding it to his breakfast pile.

“Watch it, or he’ll take the rest of your food, too,” Mammon warned.

You quickly retracted your plate.

The next few minutes passed in relative silence (no one spoke, but Beelzebub made plenty of noise inhaling his meal) and you took the time to look around the dining space. It felt like you were in a castle. Everything was gilded and ornate, from the finely wrought details in the table and chairs, to the elegant, golden motifs spanning the walls. A row of arched windows let in light from the ever-present moon. At one end of the room, a large statue of a skeletal figure cloaked in flowing robes sat on a ledge overlooking the space.

This house was by far the most beautiful, extravagant building you’d ever set foot in. Just calling it a house felt like doing it a disservice.

“Oh, good morning, MC!”

Asmodeus’s sing-song voice pulled you from your thoughts. He waltzed into the room carrying a tray of muffins, which Beelzebub promptly set into the instant it hit the table.

You grabbed a muffin (it was still warm; had he just made these himself? Did he make all the breakfast food? You hadn’t seen any staff or servants around) and returned the greeting.

“Hey, I’m here, too!” Mammon complained.

“Yes, I was ignoring you.” Asmodeus flashed a smile your way, much to his brother’s chagrin.

“If you wanna act all chummy with the human, why don’t you take care of them?”

“It’s much more entertaining to watch you suffer.”

“You’re a real—,”

“Actually,” Lucifer interrupted, immediately silencing the two, “I have a task for both of you today involving MC. I want you to take them into town to purchase a uniform and anything else they need for their stay.”

Mammon nearly choked. “What!? I’m not gonna waste my money on them! And why do I even gotta go if Asmo’s gonna be there?”

“I’m not expecting you to pay for anything,” Lucifer said. “For one thing, that would require you having any money to spend, which we all know you don’t.”

This remark earned a dirty look from Mammon, but no comeback. The Avatar of Greed was broke?

“For another,” Lucifer continued, “Lord Diavolo has provided funds for their supplies. As for both of you going, it’s your responsibility, Mammon, but I can hardly trust you not to spend the money on yourself, so Asmo will be supervising.”

“Him supervising me? I’m older than him!”

“You’re also dumber than me,” Asmodeus said.

“And scummier,” Satan added.

“And just useless in general.”

“All right!” Mammon threw his hands up. “Gimme a break! Whatever, I guess I’ll do it! Not like I have a choice.”

“No, you don’t,” Lucifer agreed.

You silently thanked him for providing Asmodeus as a buffer. If Mammon couldn’t go five minutes in your presence without acting like his life was ending, you doubted an extended one-on-one outing would go well.

“Well I think it’ll be fun,” Asmodeus said. He sipped delicately from a coffee mug, amber eyes locked on you with a disconcerting level of intensity. “I’ll get you all fixed up with a perfect new wardrobe, dear, and I know a shop with the best skincare—,”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Mammon interjected, “I’m the one in charge of this trip, I’m gonna decide where we go!”

Asmodeus cocked a brow at him. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with it?”

“I—well—,” Mammon fumbled over a response before settling on, “If I have to go, we’re at least gonna do it my way. Besides, no one wants clothes from the kind of places you shop at, Asmo. The human’s going to RAD, not a sex club.”

RAD, you managed to recall from your brief introduction, was the common name for the school you’d be attending—the Royal Academy of Diavolo.

Asmodeus dismissed him with a wave. “I wouldn’t bring them to the club anyway, they’d get eaten alive.” He gave you a sly grin. “Unless you’re into that, in which case I’d be glad to take you—,”

“No,” Lucifer said without looking up from his papers.

Asmodeus huffed. “You’re no fun.”

“So I’ve been told.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the deadpan way Lucifer rebuffed his brothers. It was kind of funny, even if he didn’t intend it to be.

Asmodeus plucked a few more pieces of food from the rapidly dwindling plates on the table (in answer to your earlier question: yes, it really was possible for Beelzebub to eat that much). “I’m ready to go whenever you are, Mammon. The earlier we get started, the more places we can get to.”

Mammon heaved a sigh. “Yeah, whatever. Let me finish my food.”

The rest of the meal wrapped up without incident. Lucifer handed Mammon an envelope when you all stood to leave, along with a stern reminder that he was not to spend it on himself, or else.

“Not even a little? The human doesn’t need that much stuff…”

“Mammon.”

“Okay! Jeez.” He slipped the envelope into a jacket pocket and turned to you. “Come on, then, let’s get this over with. I got things to do.”

“No you don’t,” Asmodeus said. He rounded the table and stepped right up into your personal space, looping an arm around yours and leaning down to not-whisper in your ear, “He’s always cooking up schemes to make money, but they never work.”

If he noticed you stiffen at the sudden proximity, he didn’t comment.

“Sometimes they work!” Mammon argued.

The two bickered back and forth as you made your way out of the dining room. From the sound of it, Mammon was not only broke, but also in a considerable amount of debt. You got the sense that the harsh insults Asmodeus was heaping on him for it weren’t anything he hadn’t heard before. Still, it was a little uncomfortable to listen to.

“I’m telling you, the thing with the shoes would have taken off if—oh, hey Levi.” Mammon broke off mid-rant at the sight of someone coming your way.

The stranger glanced up, but didn’t stop walking. He looked annoyed.

“You really took your time. Most of the food’s gone,” Mammon said.

Asmodeus lifted your arm like you were a prize he’d won at the fair. “Levi! The human is here!”

“I don’t care.”

Ah. Well. Another charming first impression.

The mystery demon—Levi, presumably one of the two brothers you hadn’t met yet—slouched past without another word.

“That was Leviathan,” Asmodeus explained. “He’s the third oldest. Don’t worry about him. He hardly leaves his room, anyway.”

Mammon scoffed. “Sorry excuse for a demon, that’s what he is.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Fuck off!”

And just like that, they were fighting again. You held back a sigh.

This was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

“Um… no, I don’t think so.”

You shook your head at the fourth shirt Asmodeus had presented to you in as many minutes. You weren’t sure if he genuinely thought sheer mesh and latex were appropriate casual wear or if he was just trying to get a reaction out of you, but either way, most of his suggestions so far had gone right back onto the rack.

“Are you sure? It would look so cute on you!”

You eyed the garment. ‘Cute’ was not the first word that came to mind.

“Would you knock it off already?” Mammon said, snatching the shirt out of his brother’s hands and tossing it on a random shelf. “You’re just picking out stuff that you want.”

“At least I’m doing something, you haven’t stopped sulking since we left.”

“I’m not sulking!” He crossed his arms over his chest, then seemed to realize that crossing your arms and shouting definitely looks like sulking, and uncrossed them again. “All I’m here for is to pay for the human’s stuff and make sure they don’t get eaten, not play dress up with them.”

“Then why do you care if I pick things out?”

“Because you’re wasting my time, that’s why!” Mammon said, and walked off towards the other end of the store to sulk browse.

Asmodeus didn’t bat an eye. “You’ll get used to his little tantrums,” he said when he saw you looking in the direction Mammon had gone. “He likes to make a big deal out of everything. Oh! Here.” He handed you another shirt, this time made of a normal material with a normal amount of fabric.

The relief you felt must have shown on your face, because he laughed; a light, bubbly sound that had you smiling even though it was at your expense.

“I know you didn’t want any of those other things. You’re just so cute when you get flustered, I couldn’t help but tease you a little!” He patted your head the way a pet owner might do with a particularly adorable puppy, and despite feeling some mild irritation, you didn’t mind too much. There was no malice behind his words. Being treated like a fun plaything didn’t exactly thrill you, but it was preferable to outright hostility.

Mammon reappeared every few minutes to comment on your choices as you continued through the store. Most of it was criticism (“Really? Lord Diavolo himself is paying for you, and that’s what you get?”) but he did offer one or two legitimate tips, like mentioning that a brand of jeans you’d picked up ran small, or that you’d be better off buying shoes at a different store because this one marked up all the prices. He seemed to know a lot about shopping, which made sense, what with the whole greed thing.

You were actually grateful to have him there during those moments. You made sure to thank him sincerely when he bothered to be helpful, hoping that maybe if he knew you appreciated it, he’d be a little nicer. He brushed it off every time, but you did notice the number of constructive comments increase. Still scattered between a significantly higher number of insults, but. Small victories.

Once clothes were out of the way, including your RAD uniform, Asmodeus very enthusiastically pulled you into a store where the scent of soaps and perfumes hung so heavy in the air you could practically taste it.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m choking on flowers,” Mammon said, echoing your own thoughts. He pulled the envelope from Lucifer out of his jacket and handed it to Asmodeus. “I’m gonna go across the street and look at those new watches I saw online.”

“Don’t try to run away early, Lucifer won’t be very happy!” Asmodeus called after him.

Mammon dismissed him with a wave, already out the door.

Asmodeus tsked. “He should have come with; I swear he’s been using the same body wash for at least a century. It wouldn’t kill him to put in some effort.”

The casual mention of a century left you blinking. Before you had much time to wonder on it, Asmodeus took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned your face side to side, humming in thought, before giving your cheek a gentle pat.

“I know some products that should work well for your skin! We’ll get a routine all set up for you.”

You at least vaguely comprehended the purposes of most of the things he handed you over the next thirty minutes. Once skincare was wrapped up, he led you through aisles of bath products (“If you want to try any of them out, there’s plenty of room for two in my bath”), ending with the more essential items like shampoo and conditioner (“Let’s stay away from the food-scented ones, I’m sure poor Beel is tempted enough as it is”). Half of what you ended up leaving with seemed fairly unnecessary, but you hadn’t had the heart to interrupt Asmodeus when he was clearly enjoying himself so much. It’s not like it was money out of your pocket, anyway.

“Time to see if Mammon actually stuck around,” he said as the two of you emerged back onto the busy street, shopping bags in hand.

You crossed to the storefront on the opposite side and stepped in. It looked more trendy and upscale (and expensive) than the places you’d been to so far.

“Ah! There.” Asmodeus pointed towards the right side of the room, where Mammon’s silvery white hair stood out against the rack of dark clothes he was sorting through. “Mammon!”

He glanced up. “One minute!”

“Why does he—is he buying something?” Asmodeus asked, more to himself than to you. “He must have snuck some money out of the envelope before he gave it to me. Lucifer’s going to kill him.”

Sure enough, Mammon made his way to the counter, and when he returned it was with a conspicuous new piece of bling on his wrist.

“Took you long enough,” he complained. “Is it time to go home yet?”

Asmodeus responded by knocking him upside the head with the back of his hand.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“You idiot. You really couldn’t control yourself for five minutes?”

“You guys were in there for a lot longer than five minutes! And I still don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“The money, stupid! You just had to waste it on something for yourself!”

One of the other customers in the store cast a surreptitious glance at the brothers. You tried very hard to turn invisible.

“You’re the stupid one, I gave you the money! How did I spend it if I didn’t even have it?”

“You took some out, obviously.”

“I did not! I have my own money, you know!”

Asmodeus snorted. “Right. Don’t expect me to help you when Lucifer strings you up for this.”

You hadn’t planned on getting involved in their little spat, but the way Mammon paled at the mention of being strung up (and seriously, what the fuck? Was he serious?) tugged at your heart enough that you spoke up.

“We can just count the money.”

They both turned to you like they had forgotten you were even there.

“Hm?” Asmodeus asked.

Mammon fixed you with an unreadable expression for just a moment. It was gone too quickly for you to guess at, replaced by the brash arrogance you’d already come to expect from him.

“Yeah! Just count it!” Then to you, he added, “Maybe you’re not as dumb as you look.”

The small amount of sympathy you’d been feeling for him evaporated.

Asmodeus rolled his eyes, but held a hand out to you. “MC, let me see the receipts.”

You fished them out of the bags and handed them over. He added up the totals, flipped through the remaining bills in the envelope, did the math, and sighed.

“It’s all there.”

“HA!” Mammon jabbed a finger at his chest. “I told you! Maybe you should learn to listen to me!”

“Whatever. MC still needs school supplies, so let’s go.”

“Hey,” Mammon followed him back onto the street, with you trailing behind. “I’m expecting an apology!”

“Why would I apologize? It’s not like it was unrealistic for me to assume you stole the money.”

“You should apologize because I’m your older brother and I deserve some respect!”

Asmodeus groaned. “Mammon, I’m sorry that for once in your life I happened to be wrong about you stealing money.”

As far as apologies go, it was pretty abysmal, but apparently it was enough to placate Mammon.

The two of them didn’t bicker quite as much for the rest of your outing. At times they acted downright, well, brotherly. Watching their moods towards each other flip flop so much was liable to give you whiplash. They made sure you had the rest of the supplies you needed to at least start off the year, and Asmodeus even shared a bite of some pastry he bought from a street vendor on the way back to the House of Lamentation (the caveat being you had to let him feed it to you).

Despite Mammon’s degrading comments and Asmodeus’s overly friendly behavior, and despite the embarrassing way the two of them argued in public, it was actually kind of a fun afternoon. Sure, you were still anxious and uncomfortable and a little terrified in general about this exchange student situation as a whole, but this was an encouraging step forward, and you found yourself smiling as you crossed the threshold into the dorm.

And then someone started shouting.

“Mammon!”

All three of you looked up to see Leviathan glaring down from the landing at the top of the stairs.

“I want my money, NOW!”

Asmodeus dropped the single bag he had opted to carry into your arms. “Well, I have somewhere to be. Bye-bye!”

He was gone before you even had a chance to protest. Seeing one brother flee the scene, Leviathan stormed down the staircase before the other could make an escape. You hoped that maybe whatever was going on here was just a misunderstanding like earlier, and they could just argue for a bit and then settle it without the situation devolving into a fistfight or anything else equally as hazardous to your health, but if the fire behind Leviathan's eyes was anything to go by…

You doubted it would be that easy.

Chapter Text

Leviathan hadn’t looked very imposing when you’d first seen him dragging his feet to breakfast, but standing in front of you now, drawn up to his full height, anger radiating from his body…

You took a step back.

“Mammon, give me my money, now.”

“I told you, I’ll get it to you.” Mammon rubbed the back of his head in a way that didn’t suggest confidence. “I just need a little more time.”

“‘A little more?’” Leviathan repeated. “How much more?”

“A little more, okay? A little more means a little more!”

“You’ve been telling me that for months.”

“Well, if you’ve waited this long, you can wait a little longer, right?”

Leviathan made a disgusted sound. “Unbelievable. Seriously, you’re—,”

“I’m what?” Mammon cut him off. “I’m a scumbag? Is that what you’re gonna say?”

“You’re a total waste of space. I wish you’d crawl into a hole and die.”

You winced on Mammon’s behalf.

“All right, that’s a little harsh—,”

“I don’t care, just give me back my money! The special edition Blu-ray box set for one of the shows I’ve been watching drops this weekend, and the first hundred copies have tickets to a live event, so I need to get it as soon as it goes on sale!”

Blu-ray? So they had to do a weird, demon-themed off brand version of cell phones, but Blu-ray was fine?

“Yeah, well, sorry about your nerd shit, because I can’t pay you back right now. You’re just gonna have to wait.”

Leviathan pushed into Mammon’s personal space. It felt like the air around you pulsated with an unseen pressure.

“So you’re telling me you refuse to pay me back?”

Mammon didn’t back down, leaning in until the two of them were nose to nose. “You wanna fight about it? Is that it?”

For a few impossibly long seconds, neither of them moved. You were sure they must be able to hear your heart beating.

“Hey, human,” Mammon said without taking his eyes off his brother. “Here’s some free advice: if a demon attacks you, you either run or you die.”

Oh shit. Oh shit.

“So I hope you know how to run, ‘cause if one of us has to die, it ain’t gonna be me!”

And then, faster than any creature had any right to be, he bolted. You just barely caught sight of him disappearing around the corner at the end of the hall to your right.

“Dammit!” Leviathan cursed. “That ass!”

He turned to you. Your grip around the shopping bags tightened.

“Do you realize what just happened? He used you as a sacrifice. That was pretty stupid of you to let him do.”

Stupid of you? As if you had any control over the situation.

Leviathan sighed. “This is exactly why humans are—wait a second.” The disinterested look he had been giving you turned into something more curious. “Humans… I’ve got an idea. Listen, are you free right now?”

You started to say you needed to drop all these bags off in your room, but didn’t make it past the first syllable.

“Nevermind, I don’t care either way. You’re coming with me.”

He grabbed your arm and took off upstairs. You scrambled to keep up, thoughts racing, unable to even imagine what he could possibly have in store for you. Was he going to take his anger out on you like a human punching bag? Tear you to pieces and eat you to relieve stress? Force you to somehow earn the money Mammon owed him?

You nearly slammed into his back when he stopped abruptly in front of a closed door. He glanced up and down the hall, and, satisfied with whatever he saw (or didn’t see), opened the door and yanked you inside, slamming it behind you.

Blue. That was the first thought to cross your mind once you got a look at the room he’d pulled you into, followed closely by, holy shit, it’s all water. A massive glass tank spanned not only the entire far wall, but the ceiling as well, casting the room in a cool, soft glow and dancing shadows, as if it were all underwater. Luminous jellyfish lanterns strung over the center of the space heightened the illusion. It was beautiful and serene and not at all what you had expected from the volatile demon in front of you.

Also unexpected, although for completely different reasons, was the abundance of video game and anime paraphernalia cluttering every available surface. Figurines, DVDs, posters, consoles, games…

“What are you staring at?” Leviathan snapped.

You weren’t sure which to comment on first—the fact that he lived in an aquarium or the fact that they made anime in hell. You settled with, “Your room is really cool.”

He literally jumped backwards. You’d never seen such an exaggerated display of surprise outside a cartoon.

“What? You—you’re just saying that because you think I’m mad at you!”

“No! I’m serious. The water is really pretty and it’s… neat to see all your collections and stuff.”

Honest to God, he blushed. He immediately threw up a hand to conceal his face, the same orange eyes that had been boring into you seconds before now looking anywhere but.

“Well… Don’t get used to it. I only let you in here because I didn’t want anyone to overhear my plan.” He regained some composure, dropping his hand to point accusingly at you. “Imagine what would happen if someone saw me inviting a human into my room, especially a normie like you! Do you know what people would say?”

You were so stricken by hearing someone use the word “normie” unironically that you didn’t answer right away. “Um… No?”

“They’d never stop mocking me! My credibility as an otaku would be ruined!”

Otaku? Jesus. This guy had terrified you just moments ago, but it was becoming harder and harder to take him seriously with every word that left his mouth. Your gaze wandered around the room again as he went off on a tangent about his reputation and normies and some character named Ruri-chan. A nearby bookshelf caught your eye, packed with volumes of manga and thick fantasy novels, a few of which you actually recognized.

“Hey, human, are you even listening to me?”

You turned your attention back to Leviathan. “Yes,” you lied, “I was just looking at the books.”

His annoyed expression vanished, replaced by bright-eyed excitement. “Oh! Some of them are from the human world! Do you know TSL?”

You considered lying in an attempt to get on his good side, but figured he’d probably be able to call you on it. “No, I’ve never heard of it.”

He looked at you like you’d just admitted to peeing in his giant fish tank. “What? You don’t know TSL? And you call yourself a human? How have you not heard of it? What have you been wasting your life with all this time?”

Leviathan then proceeded to spend the next ten minutes lecturing you about The Tale of the Seven Lords. It was actually kind of endearing, seeing how enthusiastic he got about it. His description of the seven lords also reminded you that you still had yet to meet the seventh brother here. If the current conversation were a little less one-sided, you might have taken the opportunity to ask about it, but Leviathan was carrying on with such fervor he barely paused to breathe.

“...and over the course of that book, the Lord of Shadows and Henry forge a bond that lasts the rest of the series.” His excited smile faltered. “That relationship always kind of depresses me, though, because I like to think of myself like the Lord of Shadows, since we’re both recluses, but I know I’ll never have a partner like that.”

He looked to the wall of water on the other side of the room. “See the goldfish in there?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway.

“He’s actually named Henry. I love TSL so much, I couldn’t help but name him after the main character. But… that’s pretty pathetic, I guess.”

The same feeling you got when you heard everyone ragging on Mammon rose in your chest. Just like Mammon, Leviathan hadn’t exactly been kind to you so far, but the pitiful look on his face still made you want to reach out and comfort him.

He recovered quickly, though, launching into a tirade about how jealous it made him that the author of TSL was human, and how unfair it was that humans got to have things like… anime streaming services and maid cafes?

“All right, enough. We’re way off topic,” he said. “I didn’t bring you here to tell you about TSL.”

Thank goodness. You were getting tired of standing awkwardly in the doorway being talked at. He could at least let you sit down somewhere.

“You spent some time with Mammon, so I’m sure you’ve realized how sleazy he is. But I’ll say this anyway, because it’s important: Mammon is a hopeless, worthless dirtbag. I lent him some money a while ago and he won’t pay me back no matter what I do. I wish I could force him, but even though he’s an idiot, he’s still the second oldest. I’d never stand a chance against him.

“This all goes back even further, though. There was a convenience store contest that I worked so hard to rack up entries for...”

Leviathan started pacing as he recounted the story of what he perceived as his brother’s great slight against him. It involved some sort of collectible figurine, because of course it did. He described Mammon’s garbage-strewn bedroom, where he had ventured in the dead of night to steal the precious item, and the indignity he’d suffered at being knocked unconscious when Mammon woke up—in the nude, Leviathan emphasized—and found him there.

“So you see why I can’t do anything myself,” he concluded. “But if, say, a human made a pact with Mammon, and bound him to their service, then he’d have to do whatever that human told him to.”

He stepped closer to you, eyes sparkling with a devious sort of excitement. “Which means that if you make a pact with Mammon and then order him to give me back my money, he would have no choice but to do it!”

You waited for him to explain, but for once he was giving you a chance to respond.

“...What’s a pact?”

“It’s… a pact? With a demon?” He blinked at you, brows drawn together in confusion. “Haven’t you seen it in movies? The demon lends his strength to a human in exchange for their soul.”

“Wh—I don’t want to do that!”

Leviathan didn’t seem to think it was all that big a deal. “I mean, it doesn’t necessarily have to be your soul, but you need to offer the demon something to make it worth the exchange, so it’s usually inevitable,” he shrugged. “But if you don’t want to give up your soul, I’ll tell you how you can negotiate with Mammon.

“And by the way, it’s not like this would be a bad deal for you, either. You’re probably worried about being here in the Devildom. Having Mammon as your servant would be useful. He may be awful, but he’s still a powerful demon, you know?”

You struggled to come up with a reply. Everything kept happening so fast down here. First you were dragged into this whole situation with no warning, then the very next morning you were on a shopping spree and Asmodeus kept offering to have sex with you, and now this? You’d only been here for a single night, and someone was already trying to coerce you into bartering away your soul? It probably shouldn’t have surprised you—they were demons, after all—but the fact that it was just part of a scheme to get a few bucks and an anime figurine made it a little insulting. “Even if there’s something else I can give him, I don’t know if I could manage to do it.”

“Hey, don’t give up before you even try! I thought humans weren’t quitters! I thought your kind had determination!”

Leviathan gave you a surprisingly genuine pep talk (although it did go off the rails slightly with an extended comic-con analogy), and then promptly ruined it by finishing with, “If I’m being honest, though, I don’t really care what you think. What’s important is that I have a plan, so shut up and listen.”

You pursed your lips, annoyed, but kept quiet.

“If you just walk up to Mammon and ask him to make a pact with you, he’ll never agree. You need some leverage. A bargaining chip.” Leviathan grinned at whatever bit of hidden knowledge he was about to take advantage of. “You’re going to offer him something he wants so badly, he’d do anything to get it.”

Chapter Text

The key to forcing one of the most powerful demons in existence into a pact ended up being…. a credit card. A very special credit card, Leviathan assured you (so special that it had an affectionate nickname), but a credit card nonetheless. Lucifer had confiscated it some time ago after getting fed up with Mammon’s out of control spending. No one knew where it was hidden, and no one ever tried to find out, whether due to indifference or fear of incurring Lucifer’s wrath.

But lucky you! Leviathan had deemed you expendable, and tasked you with fishing for information. Your little meeting in his bedroom yesterday ended with specific orders:

“He can’t suspect anything. You’ve got to be subtle, like it happened to come up naturally. Got it? Make sure you do a good job! ...Or else!”

And then he threw you out of his room and slammed the door behind you. The hastily added threat at the end didn’t exactly inspire fear, but you were already scared enough of everyone here regardless that it didn’t matter much.

So, great. Today was your first day of classes, and on top of having to deal with navigating the campus and avoiding hordes of demons who you had been told multiple times would not hesitate to kill you, eat you, and/or steal your soul, you also had to interrogate the most terrifying man you’d ever met.

How were you supposed to casually bring up Mammon’s credit card? You’d barely exchanged a few sentences with Lucifer; to suddenly ask about something like that would undoubtedly raise his suspicions.

You fastened the last button on your uniform with a sigh. Whatever. You’d cross that bridge when you got to it, and if it went badly then maybe Leviathan would reconsider forcing you to be a reconnaissance agent.

The time rolled around when Mammon had come to show you to breakfast yesterday morning, but today there was no irritated demon banging on your door (you waited a few extra minutes just to be sure), so you grabbed your bag and headed to the dining room by yourself.

Mammon and Leviathan were the only two missing when you got there. Teetering stacks of pancakes covered the table, most of them gathered around Beelzebub, only his red hair visible over the wall of food.

“Oh, you look so cute in your uniform!” Asmodeus cooed as you took a seat.

“Thanks.” You still weren’t exactly sure how to respond to his comments. There had been a lot of them during your shopping trip, and you’d politely, if somewhat awkwardly, accepted the compliments, while playing off—very awkwardly—the more salacious remarks. It wasn’t that you necessarily minded the attention, you just didn’t know how genuine any of it was and didn’t appreciate being embarrassed if he was just teasing you.

You surveyed the table to see what culinary mysteries this morning had in store. The pancakes seemed normal, and no one stopped you when you added something that resembled bacon to your plate, so you assumed at least those components were human-safe. There was some kind of black and neon green fruit that you didn’t even bother asking about—it looked downright radioactive.

Lucifer regarded you over his coffee cup as you assembled your meal. “Are you prepared for your first day at RAD, MC?”

Absolutely not, you thought. “As much as I can be, I guess,” you said.

“I’m sure you’ll manage. Don’t hesitate to ask for assistance if you find the course work challenging.” Under his breath, more to himself than to you, he added, “Mammon’s grades are enough of a disgrace, I can’t have anyone else failing.”

Satan snorted. “I don’t think anyone could perform as poorly as him if they tried.”

“It does feel like he makes an active effort to be a terrible student, doesn’t it?” Lucifer agreed.

Mammon chose that moment to make his entrance. As if to prove his brother’s point, his uniform was rumpled and unbuttoned, shirt untucked, tie loose. He sank into the chair next to you with a yawn and claimed a stack of pancakes before Beel could add it to his own pile.

“Mammon,” Lucifer said.

“Mph,” Mammon grunted through a mouthful of food.

“Walk MC to school and ensure they arrive safely at all of their classes.”

The way Mammon made an indignant noise with his mouth still full of pancake and the withering look he received from Lucifer in return reminded you more of a beleaguered mother and her unruly child than of two brothers.

“Come on!” Mammon whined. “You really think someone’s gonna try to eat them at RAD?”

“No, because you’re going to walk them to school and ensure they arrive safely at all of their classes.”

You held back a grin while Asmodeus and Satan snickered.

The rest of breakfast passed in much the same way yesterday’s meals had, with some minor bickering—mostly involving Mammon—some conversation—mostly carried by Asmodeus—and some unpleasant sounds—entirely caused by Beelzebub eating. When Mammon eventually rose to leave, he heaved a sigh and glanced at you.

“Come on, then. If we get there early at least less people will see me dragging you around.”

Asmodeus let out one, derisive laugh. “You act like you have a reputation to maintain.”

“I do! Just ‘cause you lot don’t respect me doesn’t mean no one does!”

“Mhm. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Mammon muttered something that sounded like “asshole” and snatched his bag roughly off the floor before striding out of the room, leaving you scurrying to gather your own things and follow. Beelzebub was already reaching for your plate as you left.

You caught up with Mammon near the front entrance of the house.

“I’m not planning on playing chaperone for you,” he said once you fell into step behind him. “If you’re too stupid to get to your classes without dying, it’s not my problem.”

It probably very much would be his problem, actually, considering he had explicit orders to keep you alive, but you let him carry on without comment. Spending yesterday shopping with him taught you that he mostly just seemed to want someone to listen—whether or not you agreed with what he had to say didn’t matter as much, he just wanted you to hear him say it.

“There’ll be too many people around all the time for anyone to try anything, anyway,” he continued. “Unless you wander off into an empty classroom or something. So don’t do that. And if Lucifer asks, you tell him I was with you all day! If I get punished for not babysitting you, the only demon you’re gonna have to worry about is me. I’ll tear your legs off so you can’t leave the house and I won’t have to deal with watching you anymore. You hear me?”

“Okay,” you said.

That was enough to pacify him. The two of you walked in silence for several minutes, the relatively secluded setting of the House of Lamentation gradually giving way to a more populated area as you approached the RAD campus. Groups of demons in student uniforms milled about, many casting curious glances your way.

“What classes do you have, anyway?” Mammon asked, his tone slightly less brusque than before.

“Oh, um, I wrote it down.” You dug a folded piece of paper from your pocket and handed it to him. You’d noted your weekly schedule on it, including times and locations, to avoid having to pull out the entire syllabus Lucifer had provided you with every time you needed a reminder of where you were going.

Mammon studied the sheet and handed it back. “Hm. Your class after lunch is next to mine, so I guess I’ll see you to that one, at least. Just because we’re going to the same place.”

“All right, thank you.”

He scoffed. “It’s not like I’m doing it to be nice or something.”

“I know, but still. Thanks.”

Your insistence left him looking somewhere between annoyed and confused, but he let the subject drop. That was also something you’d noticed during your shopping trip. Being nice, even to a minimal degree, flustered him. You could make assumptions as to why that might be (and given the way you’d seen his brothers treat him during the short time you’d been here, you had some ideas), but regardless of the reason his mood always seemed to soften afterward, so you had decided to make a specific effort to be nice to him. When he wasn’t being too much of a jerk, at least.

You both entered the main building together. It was a huge, sprawling stone structure, majestic and imposing and immediately overwhelming. Last night you had tried to memorize a map of the place. All the towers and courtyards and halls blurred together in a useless jumble in your mind now.

Mammon wasted no time in leaving you to fend for yourself. “Good luck, don’t die,” he said, and slipped away into the crowd of students bustling through the lobby, a lot of whom stared openly at you with expressions ranging from inquisitive to predatory.

You took a deep breath. Too many people around for anyone to kill you, Mammon said. You clung to that thought, praying it was true, and set out to find your first classroom.

After more than a few wrong turns, it became apparent that you had no clue where you were going. You stepped off to one side of the hallway, out of the flow of traffic, and pulled out your DDD to consult the map.

Two demons on the other side of the hall watched you with interest. They traded gossip about you and your current living situation, either not thinking you could hear them or not caring, and you did your best to ignore it until the conversation took a concerning turn.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s watching them. We could take them now and no one would notice.”

“Are you sure? Someone else might rat us out, maybe we should wait.”

“Nah, the sooner the better. We should eat them before Beel does.”

You clutched your DDD so tightly your hand shook. Should you run? If you made it to your classroom you’d be safe, but what if you fucked up the directions again and got lost? Should you call someone? Mammon? Lucifer?

“Hey.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of a voice right next to you. The man who’d spoken chuckled.

“You know, standing around looking so terrified, you’re practically begging for someone to attack you. Your name’s MC, right?”

You regarded him with a wary eye. “Yeah.”

“No need for that look. I’m Solomon, the other human exchange student. Nice to meet you.”

He offered a hand, and you shook it. He still had a smirk on his face from scaring you.

“So why are you all alone? Aren’t you supposed to have Mammon looking after you?”

You grimaced. “Supposed to, yeah.”

Solomon chuckled again. “I guess he is more of a liability than an asset. I’m not sure I can think of anyone less suited to a role like that. Lucifer must be trying to mess with you.” His smirk stretched to a full grin. “I don’t envy you for that. Still, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

You were about to question his apparent familiarity with the brothers when his gaze drifted to a point over your shoulder and his grin tightened.

“I’d better get going. I’ll see you around, MC. Take care of yourself.”

His reason for departure joined you seconds later. Lucifer, unfairly elegant even in a school uniform, watched the other human’s retreating form with narrowed eyes.

“I see you met Solomon.”

“Yeah. Did he get here before me? He seems like… he knows what’s going on more than I do.”

“Solomon is familiar with the Devildom. He’s a powerful sorcerer, powerful enough to subjugate even greater demons if given the chance.”

“Oh,” was all you could say to that, because up until that moment you didn’t know sorcerers were even a thing that existed.

“It’s fine if you associate with him, since you’re both human, but know that he shouldn’t be trusted.”

Great. The only other human in this entire place, and you couldn’t even bond over being stuck down here, powerless and afraid, because he was apparently neither of those things. Why did they even invite him if he was so shifty?

Lucifer glanced around the hall. “Mammon shirked his duty already?”

“Um…” You struggled to come up with an excuse for why he wasn’t with you, knowing his threat to rip your legs off was likely hollow but not wanting to piss him off anyway, but you drew a blank.

“I wish I were surprised. He has an incredible talent for failing even the simplest tasks. Even Levi would have done a better job at this.”

Oh, shit, Leviathan. In all the chaos of trying to find your way to class and the panic of hearing someone planning to kill you, you had forgotten your mission to interrogate Lucifer about Mammon’s credit card.

Something must have shown on your face (that or Lucifer could read minds), because his gaze turned scrutinizing and he said, “You look like you have something to say.”

You wracked your brain for any way at all to bring up the card. Lucifer waited patiently while you started a few sentences, then abandoned each of them one or two words in. It was pointless. You were confident he would see right through anything you said.

So… If that was the case, fuck it. Might as well just tell the truth. Maybe he would be so surprised by you just asking outright that he would give you an answer. “Leviathan wants me to ask where Mammon’s credit card is.”

Lucifer quirked a brow. His expression came off as somewhere between amused and disapproving, but it was hard to tell for sure. The man did not like to emote. “Why does Levi want Mammon’s credit card?”

“He said Mammon owes him money.”

You assumed the exhale-through-the-nose thing Lucifer did upon hearing this was probably his dignified, refined version of an exasperated sigh.

“And he thought I would just tell you?”

Well. That was what you had hoped. “I mean, he didn’t actually want me to ask, he wanted me to… finesse the information out of you. But I didn’t think that would work.”

A small, decidedly condescending smile crossed Lucifer’s face. “It wouldn’t have. It was bold of you to try, though.”

By this time, the throng of students around you was beginning to thin out. Your first class would probably be starting any minute.

“As long as Mammon has money, he’ll spend it,” Lucifer said. “There are no limits with him, so I had to impose limits of my own and freeze his card.”

Along the hall, doors began closing, signaling the beginning of the current block of classes and cutting off anything else Lucifer might have revealed. The remaining students in the vicinity picked up the pace to wherever they were going.

Lucifer smirked in a way that said if this conversation was a competition, he had won. “There’s the first bell. Don’t be late.”

~~~~~

Hours later—after school, after dinner—you collapsed into bed, grateful to finally be able to relax. Your classes that day, while difficult, had not been a disaster, and with enough hard work you were sure you could get through them with decent grades. As for your safety, your proximity to the brothers did seem to be working in your favor, and if anyone else was planning to eat you, they at least had the decency to discuss it out of earshot.

At dinner, Lucifer let Mammon know that the way he blew you off at RAD had not gone unnoticed. Mammon glared at you, but you hadn’t received any angry texts or calls and he hadn’t come banging on your door, so either Lucifer killed him or he decided not to tear your legs off after all.

Then there was Leviathan. You’d heard nothing from him all day, and were starting to wonder if he might have forgotten the whole credit card scheme when your DDD chimed with a message notification.

Leviathan: Well???? Did you find out where the card is???

You: No, he just said he froze it

Leviathan: Froze? Are you absolutely sure that’s what he said?

You: Yeah, like he locked the account

Leviathan: Come to the kitchen
Leviathan: Right now
Leviathan: And don’t tell anyone what you’re doing! I don’t want anyone thinking I’m hanging out with you

You stared at the screen. Why the kitchen? If he wanted to berate you for failing his mission, it was an odd place to meet. At least it was just next door. Even though you lived in the House of Lamentation, you still felt like a trespasser roaming the halls.

You put on the fluffy pair of slippers Asmodeus had insisted on during your shopping trip—you were grateful for them now, the stone floors got cold—and padded to the kitchen. The refrigerator door was wide open when you stepped inside. To no surprise, Beelzebub’s face popped up at the sound of your entry.

“Oh. It’s you.” He went back to digging around the fridge. “Looking for a snack?”

“Yeah,” you said, figuring that was the easiest lie.

“Well, I’m taking everything in the fridge, so you’ll have to look somewhere else.”

“Oh.” Now you needed a different excuse. “Is there any tea or anything here?”

“In that cupboard,” he pointed. “Don’t take the kind in the red box, it’s Satan’s favorite.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

You rifled through the cupboard for a flavor with the least demonic sounding ingredients and set a kettle on the stove to boil. After a few minutes, Beelzebub finished his raid on the fridge and went to leave, the last of the food piled in his arms, and you suddenly remembered that you had a question you’d been thinking about asking someone.

“Beelzebub?”

He paused in the doorway. “Just Beel is fine. What is it?”

“Is there another one of you guys that I haven’t met yet?”

The look on his face instantly made you regret bringing it up. A mix of anger and… sadness? Pain? You simultaneously feared for your safety and felt bad that you had somehow upset him.

“We’re not supposed to talk about him,” Beel said. “Lucifer will get mad.” Under his breath, more to himself than to you, he added, “Even though he’s our brother….”

Yeah, definitely a sore spot. As much as you wanted to pry, it was clearly not the thing to do in this situation.

The sad look in Beel’s eyes hardened. “It’s not any of your business, anyway. Don’t bring it up again, especially not around Lucifer.”

He left, mumbling something about finding more food. You pondered his non-answer about the mysterious seventh brother as the kettle came to a boil. It almost sounded like he had been disowned. What could a demon do that even other demons would look down on so strongly?

You didn’t get much time to think about it before Leviathan showed up. (Or just Levi? You had been avoiding calling any of them by a nickname in case they got mad at you for being too familiar, but if Beel had given you the OK then maybe it was fine for all of them.) He double checked that no one was coming down the hallway before actually entering the kitchen.

“All right, I saw Beel leave, so we should be good for a while. I can’t have anyone seeing me with you.”

You opened your mouth to say that the two of you did in fact live in the same house, but he continued:

“So Lucifer definitely said he froze the card, right? Those were his exact words?”

“Yeah.” You took the kettle off the burner only to realize you had no idea where the cups were.

Levi threw the freezer door open with all the excitement of a child tearing the wrapping paper off a gift on Christmas morning. “Then it has to be here!”

“...In the freezer?”

He ignored you, head and shoulders shoved fully inside the appliance. “There’s just a bunch of ice… I don’t see—oh!” He emerged with a very, very freezer burnt carton of ice cream. “Satan hid this from Beel, like, decades ago. I totally forgot about that.” It went right back in. “He’ll find it eventually.”

Several more seconds passed of Levi rummaging around and you were considering telling him that Lucifer probably didn’t mean he literally, physically froze Mammon’s credit card, when he let out a triumphant, “Aha!” and dragged out a big chunk of ice.

...With a credit card stuck inside. Well, damn. Maybe Lucifer secretly had a sense of humor.

Levi popped the microwave open and shoved the ice inside with some difficulty. “I’m going to put it in here to thaw.”

That seemed like a bad idea. “I don’t think you should—,”

“Levi?” You both turned to see none other than Mammon standing in the doorway. Talk about shitty timing. “What are you two doing hanging out?”

“We’re not hanging out!” Levi snapped, neglecting to block the microwave from view.

Obviously, Mammon saw it. “Why are you microwaving a bunch of ice?”

“None of your business, idiot! Go away!”

Mammon narrowed his eyes. “You hiding something, Levi?”

“N-no!”

“Yeah you are! What is it?” Mammon took a few steps closer and gasped. “My credit card! Why’d you put it in the microwave, you moron!? It’s gonna demagnetize it!”

“Oh, right!” Levi hit the stop button.

“Why would you do something so stupid!? You’re a real dumbass, you know that!?” Mammon rushed forward to retrieve his precious card, but Levi blocked his path.

“Are you sure you should be talking to me like that? After all, I’m the one who found your credit card. Do you want me to give it back!”

“You better give it back, or I’ll bust your head open and take it myself!”

Levi shrunk back slightly. The plan was supposed to be to secure the card and then confront Mammon, so Mammon still wouldn’t know where it was and Levi could use that information to force him into a pact. But now, with the card within his reach, all Mammon had to do was beat down his little brother to get to it.

Levi glanced at you. And then he grabbed your arm and yanked your body in front of his. “You can’t hurt the human! Lucifer will kill you!”

You really hoped that was enough of a threat to keep Mammon from breaking you in half, because that’s what it looked like he wanted to do.

“Hiding behind a human? What kind of pathetic, sorry-ass demon are you?”

“It’s not pathetic, it’s a strategy!” Levi’s grip on your arm tightened to a degree just shy of painful. You tugged against him, but he didn’t even seem to notice. “Now back off, or I’ll turn the microwave on again!”

Mammon made a frustrated sound. “Okay! Jeez, come on, don’t do that. Just give me the card, please? Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you!”

“That’s better,” Levi smirked, awfully smug for someone still clutching his human shield. “If you want your card back, you have to give me the Seraphina figure you won in that convenience store contest.”

That hadn’t been part of the plan.

“The Sera… what? What the hell are you talking about, I don’t remember winning anything.”

You were definitely going to have bruises where Levi’s fingers were digging into your arm.

“You’re kidding me!” he cried. “You forgot that you even have her!”

Mammon looked about ready to tear his hair out. “Ugh, whatever! I don’t care, you can have it! You can have whatever you want, just give me the card!”

“All right, but there’s one more condition.” Levi paused, presumably for dramatic flair. “I want you to make a pact with the human.”

“Sure, I—wait, what?” Mammon sputtered. “A pact? Why do you want me to make a pact?”

“Because then MC can order you to give me the money you owe me, and since you can’t refuse a direct order from your master, you’ll have to do it,” Levi said. “I win!”

“I don’t believe this. It’s just money, Levi, what’s the point in going through all this trouble?” Mammon tried to come off as indifferent, but his eyes kept flickering back to his credit card in the microwave.

“Excuse me? ‘It’s just money?’ You’d do just about anything for a few grimm!”

“Oh, shut up! And you, human!” Mammon jabbed a finger at your chest. “What are you thinking, letting him use you like this? Are you stupid?”

“What am I supposed to do?” you asked, straining ineffectively against Levi’s grasp to illustrate just how powerless you were in this situation.

“You’re supposed to take my side! You’re supposed to say, ‘Hey, Levi, stop being such an asshole and give Mammon his credit card back already!’”

“Why would they do that?” Levi said, which was exactly what you had been thinking. “They wouldn’t help a lousy scumbag like you. Now, are you going to make the pact or not?”

“Uh-uh! No way!” Mammon shook his head. “I’m the Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed, one of the seven rulers of the Devildom! Do you actually think I’d ever let some human control me?”

Levi cupped his free hand to his mouth and shouted towards the hallway. “LUCIFER! MAMMON FOUND HIS CREDIT CARD!”

The mere idea of the eldest brother becoming involved was enough to strip the ‘Great Mammon’ of his bravado in an instant. “Shhhh! No! Shut up! I’ll do it, all right? I’ll do it!”

“Then hurry up! I don’t have time to wait around all night!”

Mammon huffed and extended a hand towards you. “Make a pact with me.”

No contract to sign? No fire and flames? Just a sulky handshake, and that’s all there was to it? Levi released his hold on you so you could seal the deal. “...Okay,” you said, and placed your hand in Mammon’s.

The second you spoke, a wave of electricity rolled through your body from head to toe. It wasn’t painful, just… well, electrifying—when the initial sensation faded it left you with an adrenaline rush, heart racing, eyes wide, legs shaking. Aside from that, though, you felt no different than normal, despite now having what you understood to be an intimate bond with a powerful demon.

“Don’t go getting a big head now, you hear me?” Mammon griped. “Just because we have a pact doesn’t mean we’re buddies or nothing, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean you can boss me around!”

“That’s exactly what it means, stupid,” Levi said. He turned to you. “Tell him to give me the Seraphina figure, and all the money he owes me.”

You glanced at Mammon. He was scowling at the floor, still looking angry, but defeat dampened the fire in his eyes. The realization that you now had the ability to control him in such an absolute way honestly made you a little uncomfortable. But Levi was waiting for you to deliver orders, so you did.

“Give him the figure and the money.”

The words sent a current through some deep, unidentifiable part of you. It was like feeling a muscle that you hadn’t even known existed before now suddenly flex.

If Mammon’s wince was anything to go by, he felt something similar.

“Your stupid toy is in my room,” he grumbled, much to Levi’s delight, and stormed out without further comment.

Levi didn’t even bother to thank you as he followed after him (and really, why did you expect him to?). You were left alone in the kitchen, the proud owner of one new demonic pact that you: 1. Hadn’t wanted, 2. Didn’t wholly understand how to use, and 3. Already felt guilty about after approximately two minutes.

And you still had an entire year ahead of you.

Chapter Text

The next morning, you were surprised to find Levi already at the breakfast table when you walked in, while Lucifer’s chair sat empty. Your two days of living in the House of Lamentation so far had given you the impression that Lucifer was always prompt to arrive at meals and that Levi tended to drag his feet. Two days wasn’t a very long time, though; maybe you were wrong.

As you took a seat and started examining that morning’s food, Asmodeus laughed at whatever he and Satan had been talking about before you showed up. You’d heard him giggle before, but this was actual, whole-hearted laughter.

“Keep your voice down,” Satan chided him. “If Mammon hears you, he’ll get upset again, and we won’t hear the end of it.”

Asmodeus waved him off. “He won’t be down for a while. I don’t know how you’re not laughing—it hasn’t even been a week and he’s stuck in a pact!”

Satan did his best to maintain a stony expression, but after only a few seconds he had to put a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh.

“See, you think it’s funny, too!”

You sank a little lower in your chair. Knowing that Mammon was upset about the pact was enough; finding out he was being mocked about it only made you feel worse. Especially since he’d probably take his anger out on you.

“Anyway.” Asmo plucked up a slice of fruit and took a delicate bite before turning to you. “MC, I have to say, I’m—,”

CRACK.

Beel stabbed his fork down into the huge slab of meat on his plate with so much force that it shattered the dish, and then he just kept shoveling it into his mouth, shards of glass and all.

Levi swatted him on the arm. “Beel, calm down, you’re eating the plate.”

Crunch. “Mm.”

“Anyway,” Asmo repeated, “MC, I was saying, I’m surprised that an average human like you would be able to make a pact with Mammon—certainly not this fast. It’s easy to forget, with the way he acts, but he is the second most powerful of us, after Lucifer.” He picked up another slice of fruit between his perfectly manicured fingers and made direct eye contact with you while running his tongue down the length of it. “I guess they really knew what they were doing when they chose you for this program, huh?”

You felt your face heat up. “I didn’t really do anything…”

“There’s no need to be humble about it,” Satan said. “We’re not upset. Honestly, it’s pretty funny.”

It wasn’t actually very funny at all from your position, but if no one was mad at you (aside from Mammon, of course), you weren’t about to argue.

Levi grinned at the handheld game console he was playing. “All I know is that I finally got my money back, so I couldn’t ask for a better outcome. I should’ve rounded up a human and done this sooner.”

“You know, that reminds me,” Asmo said, “what I find even more surprising than MC managing to make a pact with Mammon is that Levi teamed up with them to make it happen. Don’t you think?”

Satan nodded. “I never thought I’d see the day when a human won over Levi.”

“Excuse me?” Levi tore his attention away from his game to glare incredulously at Satan. “Don’t go getting the wrong idea! Nobody ‘won me over!’ Our interests just happened to align!”

You wondered what interest of yours he meant by that, since the only thing you had been particularly interested in at the time was not getting killed.

“Our relationship was purely business!” Levi continued. “I—I wouldn’t even call it a relationship! Because it wasn’t! I mean, why would I want anything to do with some normie of a human? I wouldn’t! I—,”

“All right, we get it,” Asmo interrupted.

Levi quickly buried his face—slightly red—back in his video game.

Much to your dismay, Asmo then turned his attention to you again. Whereas Lucifer’s stare made you feel like every thought in your head was being laid bare before him, with Asmo it felt like he could specifically see what he needed to say to fluster and embarrass you. “You know, if they keep this up, the rest of us might just find ourselves in a pact with them as well, if we’re not careful.”

His tone was joking, but something sharp lurked behind the teasing grin.

“If you had your choice, which one of us would you forge a pact with next, MC?”

Nope, you were not touching that question with a ten foot pole. There was no right answer there. ‘Which one of us immensely powerful, ageless entities would you subjugate next—and keep in mind, you’re stuck here for the next year and we know where you sleep. Teehee!’

“I don’t think I need any more pacts,” you said, hoping that was the response least likely to get you eaten by anyone.

Asmo pouted for a second like you’d ruined the punchline of his joke, but almost immediately went right back to his usual suggestive smirk. “It’s all right, I know you’re just too shy to admit you’d pick me. Who wouldn’t, after all? Humans simply can’t resist something so alluring.”

If you were pressed to make a choice, you’d probably actually go with Satan (he seemed the most… well-adjusted of the bunch), but you let Asmo have his moment.

“Unfortunately for you,” he said, “I’m not the least bit interested in forming a pact. You won’t be able to tame any of us as easily as you did Mammon. In fact, it’s quite offensive to put us on the same level as him.”

Unbeknownst to Asmo, the demon in question had walked through the doorway behind him just in time to hear that last comment. Mammon made his presence known with a swift slap to the back of Asmo’s head.

“OW!” Asmo shot him a furious glare. “Mammon! Not even Lucifer hits me like that! What if one of your rings had caught in my hair?”

“That’s what you get for talking shit, asshole,” Mammon said, yanking out the seat next to you and dropping onto it with a huff. “I oughta hit all of you, the way you talk about me. You all think you’re so great.”

Satan picked idly at his breakfast. “It’s not that we think we’re so great, we just think you’re a complete and utter fool.”

“Well I’m not! So give it a rest!”

“Serves you right, Mammon, lol,” Levi said (yes, actually said the letters LOL out loud, in a real life conversation. Incredible).

”You guys suck,” Mammon muttered. “You know, none of this would have happened if it weren’t for Lucifer. It’s all because that bastard kidnapped my credit card!”

Levi grimaced. “Ugh. Don’t talk about it like it’s a person. It’s gross.”

“Mhm,” Asmo nodded, “it really is.”

“Shut UP, both of you!” Mammon attacked the food on his plate with such violence you thought his plate might meet the same fate as Beel’s. His stormy demeanor calmed a little after getting a few bites of food in him.

“I can’t believe my card was in the freezer this whole time. Who does something like that? Was it supposed to be some sorta dad joke? ‘Cause if it was, that’s one of the lamest things I ever heard.” Dwelling on that thought seemed to lighten his mood considerably. “Eh, I guess maybe I should have expected something like that from him. I mean, he’s not a dad, but he’s pretty old. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“You think?”

You nearly jumped a foot out of your seat at the sound of Lucifer’s voice behind you. Mammon’s smile fell right off his face.

For the second time that morning, blows were exchanged at the breakfast table.

“FUCK! Ow!” Mammon clutched the side of his head in pain. “You didn’t have to hit me that hard!”

Lucifer ignored him and poured a cup of coffee. “MC,” he said. “I heard about what happened. Apparently you outfoxed my dimwit brother and forged a pact with him.”

Everyone really was giving you too much credit for this whole pact thing. You started to wonder if they even knew what went down, or if they’d just gotten vague details from Levi and Mammon and filled in the gaps on their own, because you’d hardly call being used as a human shield “outfoxing” anyone.

Lucifer’s eyes slid closed as he took a long pull of coffee, giving you a momentary reprieve from his piercing stare. “Your opponent may not have posed much of a challenge, but even so, you’ve only just arrived. It’s a real accomplishment managing a feat like that in such a short amount of time. Well done.”

And oh, how something fluttered inside you at those words. Maybe it was the thought of being praised by the physical embodiment of pride itself, maybe it was just the feeling of having a very attractive man with a very attractive voice say nice things to you. Whatever it was, you folded it up and stuffed it in a box and hid it in the back of your mind. You were not going to develop a crush on any of these demons, especially not the scariest one.

“I imagine Lord Diavolo will be pleased as well. We continue to expect big things from you.”

You were just starting to ponder what those “big things” might be and how much trouble they would cause you when Mammon suddenly stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder.

“Hey, human, come on. Time to get going.”

You looked between him and everyone else still eating breakfast, confused.

“Don’t just sit there with your head in the clouds! Let’s go!” He grabbed your arm and pulled you upright, giving you just enough time to snag your own bag before dragging you out of the room.

“What is with Lucifer?” he complained once the two of you were safely out of earshot. “He’s always up Diavolo’s ass, but it’s been even worse since this stupid exchange program started being a thing.”

You added, wants his big brother’s attention to your mental profile of Mammon. And to Lucifer’s, possibly overinvested in his work relationship. For a family of demons, they had some remarkably human issues.

“Anyway,” Mammon continued, “ever since you got here, it’s been one bad thing after another for me. As if wasting my time following you around wasn’t enough of a pain, now everyone’s on me about this pact.”

He didn’t say anything more as you approached the House of Lamentation’s front door, and you thought he might have just decided to stew silently rather than rant at you. But just before the exit he stopped and spun to face you. The degree of anger on his face caught you off guard.

“Make sure you get this through your head. I’m not gonna come to your rescue if some demon decides to make a meal outta you. Pact or no pact, I don’t care. You’re not my problem.”

You could only blink at the sudden vitriol. Every other time he had complained, it had been directed more at the situation itself, but this was genuine anger pointed straight at you. “I don’t—,”

“You don’t what?” Mammon interrupted. “You don’t have a brain in that head? You don’t wanna be here anymore? Just shut up. I’m not gonna listen to some fucking human.”

At that, the patience you had been holding together surprisingly well since arriving in the Devildom finally snapped. Here you had been worrying about this asshole’s feelings, trying to think of a way to help him avoid the indignity of the pact and the scorn of his brothers, and he couldn’t even care less whether you lived or died.

“I have a name,” you said. It came out less confidently than you would have liked, but you said it.

Mammon raised his brows in mock surprise. “Oh? You do? Well I guess I better call you by your name from now on.” He scoffed. “You think I give a shit what your name is? I’m calling you ‘human’ because that’s all you are, so you better learn your place and stop talking back to me like that, or I’ll eat you myself.”

He stepped towards you, and you instinctively took a step back, only to be met with cold stone.

“What’s wrong?” Mammon sneered. “You scared?”

He came closer. You pressed against the wall, debating whether or not this was just a show to intimidate you or if you were actually in danger. You wanted to believe he was faking, but the way his eyes flashed kicked your flight or fight response into gear.

“Listen, if you just do what I tell you,” he said, reaching out to… what? Cage you in? Lay a hand on your shoulder? Choke you?

You flinched away. “Don’t!”

It was more of a plea than a command, and you hadn’t even been thinking about invoking the pact when you said it, but you felt that twinge of something deep inside as the word slipped out, and Mammon instantly recoiled.

“Wh—hey!” Like flipping a switch, the cold, predatory aura around him evaporated. So it was just an act. Knowing that almost made you more upset than if he had genuinely been threatening you. You were already plenty afraid of everyone here; putting on a show like that was some real unnecessary bullshit.

Before Mammon had a chance to regain his composure, you took advantage of the moment to gather up all your frustration and anger and let it out.

“I didn’t ask to be here! I’m sorry you hate having me around so much, but I can’t do anything about it, so instead of making me feel like shit, why don’t you complain to your brother, since he’s the one who put you in charge of me!”

Mammon opened his mouth to argue (and you could tell it was definitely going to be to argue), but you steamrolled right over him, just like everyone else here did to you.

“You’re acting like all this is my fault, when I didn’t want a pact any more than you did! I didn’t even know what was happening!”

Something that looked like hurt crossed Mammon’s face before being swept up in a tide of anger. “What, I’m not good enough for you? You don’t wanna have a pact with some scummy low life like me, is that it?”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you!”

Whatever retort Mammon had prepared died on his lips. Confusion edged into his expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You took a deep breath. Your bright flare of fury was already fading, taking your will to fight with it. Now you just wanted to de-escalate the situation. “Thinking about someone being able to control me like that is scary. I wouldn’t want to be in that position, and I don’t want to put anyone else there, either.” When Mammon didn’t respond right away, you added, “And I feel bad that you’re getting made fun of for it. If there’s a way to reverse it, you can.”

He stared at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. The confusion was still there, for sure, but there was something… softer underneath it. He quickly smoothed it all over with a scowl. “You really are stupid.”

You slumped against the wall. For a second there, it had almost felt like you were about to make some progress.

“No! That’s not—I didn’t mean it like that.” Mammon waved his hands in front of him in a panicked way, like he was trying to physically erase what he just said. “What I meant is, it would be stupid to throw out something so good for you. We don’t just hand out pacts to anyone who asks, you know?”

“All you’ve done is complain about it, though. I thought you would be happy to break it.”

“Well, I mean…” Mammon scratched the back of his head. “Of course I’m glad, but I’m telling you that you’d be a real blockhead to give up such a sweet deal on account of just feeling bad about it. You’re gonna need all the help you can get down here.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “And anyway! Breaking a pact’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Oh.” Well, that was at least somewhat of a relief. If there wasn’t a feasible way to get out of it, you didn’t have to feel bad about keeping it in place. “I’ll try not to use it.”

He snorted. “Then what’s the point of having it?”

“Do you want me to use it?”

“I—well—no! I’m just saying. What kind of human gets a pact with someone like THE Mammon and doesn’t even use it?”

You shrugged. “If anyone tries to kill me, I’ll tell you to fight them off. How about that?”

“Hmph. I guess. Just don’t make me do anything stupid, all right? My brothers would never let me live it down.”

The obvious response to that was, “you don’t need my help to do anything stupid,” but at risk of ruining the moment, you held back. Instead you just said, “Deal,” and held out a hand.

Mammon did not shake it. “Psh. Don’t get friendly. Just because I decided not to eat you doesn’t mean we’re buddies.” He pulled out his DDD and checked the time. “We better get going. Come on, hu—,” he started to say, and then caught himself. “MC.”

The bar couldn’t possibly be any lower, but you smiled nonetheless. The two of you resumed your walk to campus, and as Mammon turned away, you could almost swear his cheeks were just a little red.

Chapter Text

Despite your little heart-to-heart, Mammon was quick to abandon you again once you reached the main building at RAD. Luckily your first class today was easier to locate than the one you’d gotten lost trying to find yesterday, and you managed to arrive in one piece with time to spare.

As you got settled and started pulling supplies from your backpack, two demons were having an audible conversation a few tables over.

“Did you hear what happened with the human? Apparently they made a pact with Mammon.”

“Seriously? Why would he agree to that? Is it like, a publicity stunt for the exchange program?”

Jeez. It hadn’t even been a full day and everyone already knew. Levi must have been bragging about it online or something for the news to have spread so far so quickly.

Another comment came from slightly behind you. “Hm. Whenever you make an important announcement, the students here couldn’t care less, but rumors really do spread like wildfire.”

You glanced up when the speaker stopped next to your table—a slender demon with downturned eyes and asymmetrical hair, both a deep shade of teal. He regarded you with a slight smile.

A somewhat familiar voice responded from your other side. “I’d say that all the gossip is a good thing.”

You turned to see the man responsible for your presence here, Lord Diavolo, approaching, with Lucifer following a few steps behind. Diavolo stopped at the opposite end of the table from the mystery demon and flashed you a grin that seemed far too boyish and mischievous for someone in such a major position of power. “With all eyes on them, it will be difficult for anyone to attack without being seen.”

“Since Mammon isn’t doing a very good job as guardian,” Lucifer added. “Although I figured that would happen.”

Diavolo’s grin widened. “Speaking of, I must say, I can’t believe you managed to form a pact with Mammon, MC. That’s no small feat! And what’s more, you did it in such a short time.”

Lucifer had mentioned at breakfast that Diavolo would probably be pleased, but you still weren’t sure why he was so happy about it. Shouldn’t it have been worrying that you had one of the most powerful people in the realm under your thumb after only a couple days?

The first demon hummed in agreement. “I suppose it stands as proof that you chose well bringing them here, my lord.”

You looked back at him. That barely-there smile was still fixed on his face.

“Ah, pardon me. My name is Barbatos. I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I have the honor of serving as steward to Lord Diavolo. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Barbatos is one of the most capable demons you will ever meet,” Lucifer said. “Sometimes I wish I could trade one of my brothers for him.”

He didn’t specify which brother, but it didn’t take much to guess.

Barbatos inclined his head in polite acceptance at the compliment. “Perhaps your brothers have heard it said in the human world that a truly wise man does not flaunt his talents, he keeps them secret.”

“An incompetent fool doesn’t have any talents to begin with.”

“Well I’ve heard it said that the most thick-headed child is always the cutest,” Diavolo chimed in.

Lucifer made a face like the idea caused him physical pain. “Please. It’s troublesome enough having him as a brother. I don’t even want to think about having him as a child.”

“Ah, but I notice that you didn’t deny the part about him being cute, did you?” This quip came from yet another guest strolling up to your table (it was really becoming a party over here)—a man in a black and white outfit you could only describe as “sexy mage,” or maybe “stripper priest.” “If I might offer my own opinion, out of the seven of you, you’re without a doubt the most troublesome, Lucifer.”

Lucifer didn’t look amused. “Is that meant to be a compliment?”

A smaller person suddenly leapt out from behind the newcomer. “Of course not!” he cried. “That was an insult!”

The… child? Was dressed in a similar shade of white as the man, but his outfit was more reminiscent of a little Victorian boy, complete with neck ruffle and capelet.

“Ah,” Lucifer said, “I see you’ve brought your dog along with you.”

The boy bristled like an angry kitten. “I am NOT a dog! How many times do I have to tell you that, demon!”

You marveled at the nerve of this kid to mouth off to Lucifer in such a bold way. Lucifer didn’t even seem to mind.

“Well, what do you expect? You said it yourself—I am a demon, after all.” He leaned down with a smirk. “Now then, stop yipping at me, and sit like a good boy.”

“Quit it! Don’t make fun of me!” The child’s fists clenched at his sides, his big blue eyes shining with righteous indignation.

Diavolo cut in with a chuckle. “Allow me to introduce you, MC.” He gestured to the sexy mage. “This is Simeon. He’s an exchange student from the Celestial Realm. Which is to say, he’s an angel.”

Oh, shit. Your face immediately went hot with embarrassment—you had definitely been staring at the cutouts in his bodysuit showing off the prominent V of his hips. And at his abs under the tight fabric. And at his bare shoulders and the exposed curve of his chest and—why the hell was an angel dressed like that?

Simeon smiled at you and your heart melted. “Hello, MC. After all the rumors I’ve heard, I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”

Diavolo saved you from having to choke out a response by continuing onto the smaller boy. “And this is Luke. Let’s see, you’re… a puppy, was it?”

“Wh…! Not you, too! I’m not a puppy!” Luke punctuated the statement with a stomp of his foot. “I’m an angel!” He rounded on you, as if to prevent any dog-related business before you could think about joining in. “Listen! I may be a low-ranking angel, but I’ll have you know that in the Celestial Realm I report directly to Michael the Archangel, as—,”

“Luke, calm down.” Simeon placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You need to learn not to make such a big fuss about everything.”

“But Simeon…”

“He’s right,” Lucifer said. “That’s exactly why people call you a dog, you know?”

Luke jabbed an angry finger in Lucifer’s direction. “Usually the only one who calls me a dog is YOU, Lucifer!”

You got the feeling this may have gone on for some time if Barbatos hadn’t politely cleared his throat and informed everyone, “It’s nearly time for class to begin.”

Simeon put a hand to his beautiful, well-defined chest. “Yes, you’re right. I apologize for interrupting your morning, MC. It was lovely to meet you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

You gave him a small wave goodbye as he left, very much hoping that was true.

Diavolo flashed you another sparkling grin as he also turned to go. “I’m relieved to see that things seem to be going well for you here. I’ll continue to check in, so please let me know if there’s anything I can do to improve your stay!”

“And look after Mammon for me, would you?” Lucifer added over his shoulder.

You heard Barbatos comment just before their group exited the classroom. “As I remember it, Mammon is supposed to be the one looking after MC, correct?”

“Yes, that’s how I remember it as well. Your point?”

And then you were alone again. Or, you would have been, were it not for the smaller angel, Luke, still lingering next to your seat.

He murmured something under his breath too quietly for you to catch.

“Um… sorry?”

He frowned (more than he already was) and leaned in closer. Even with you sitting down, he wasn’t that much taller than you. “Never trust a demon,” he repeated. “Especially Lucifer. Listen to me. He’s a monster and a brute. He’s uncivilized, and immoral, and… and…”

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to come up with another insulting adjective.

“Sadistic?” you offered.

“Yes, exactly!” Luke cast a disdainful glance around the room. “I was against this from the beginning. What were they thinking, bringing humans to the Devildom…” He straightened up and stepped back. “So, you’ve been warned. You get what I’m saying, right?”

At a loss for what else to do, you just nodded.

“Good.” Luke swept out of the room with his chin raised and chest puffed, presumably trying his best to look like an imposing celestial being and not just a little boy in a funny hat.

The rest of the day passed without issue. You did end up having a class with both Simeon and Luke, where you learned that Simeon was incredibly easygoing and made for very pleasant company, and that he had a dry sense of humor that you hadn’t expected from an angel. Not that you were sure what to expect from an angel in the first place. Luke, on the other hand, was a high-strung ball of emotion, but when he wasn’t ranting about how terrible demons are he was actually pretty sweet.

You also noticed that Mammon hadn’t completely abandoned you. Between classes, you caught sight of him multiple times at the opposite end of hallways or across rooms, casting furtive glances in your direction. Whenever he saw you looking he quickly turned his attention elsewhere and tried to look busy.

Once again: If the bar were any lower, it would be underground. But some effort was better than no effort, so you appreciated knowing that Mammon was paying any attention to your well-being at all, however minimal.

Back at the House of Lamentation that evening, Beel was in charge of dinner. You had never seen so many sandwiches in your entire life. And they had some kind of… legs in them? Putting cooked up body parts from a freaky Devildom creature in your mouth was not something you were eager to do, but you weren’t about to be an ungrateful guest, especially considering the nature of your hosts, so you closed your eyes and took a bite and tried not to think about what you were eating.

...It was actually pretty good.

You let out a surprised sound at this discovery, softly enough that you didn’t think anyone would be able to hear.

Beel heard it, apparently. “Do you like it?” he asked.

“Yeah! It’s good.”

The smile he gave you was so sweet, you grabbed seconds.

After dinner, you retired to your room and worked through a couple of the introductory assignments you’d been given for class, then settled into bed to watch Deviltube videos for a while before calling it a night. You’d already gotten fond of one particular channel that made cooking videos. Whether or not you were ever actually going to use the recipes was up for debate, but it was at least helping you get a little bit of a better idea of what the food here was like.

Sometime around the fourth video, you drifted off.

The dream you found yourself in was hazy and unremarkable. You wandered through a setting made of bits and pieces of random places from your memories, progressing a storyline that made sense in the moment but would mean nothing upon waking, if you remembered it at all.

A voice called out from somewhere in the distance. “...elp…”

You turned, but saw no one. Just empty rooms. The dream continued until the voice called out again, slightly louder, slightly closer.

“Help… Please…”

It echoed from multiple directions at once. You spun in place, struggling to pinpoint the source or find any sort of clue as to who was in trouble.

“Out here… Outside...”

You started running in an attempt to find a way out of the building you were currently in. Hallways and corridors twisted and warped, spaces morphing into themselves in a nonsensical labyrinth with no apparent exit. A feeling of unease prickled at the back of your mind.

“No… your room… outside…”

Your room? You stopped moving, and the scenery continued shifting around you.

“Wake up… help me.”

The unease grew into a mild panic. It felt like something was watching you.

“Wake up. Outside. Help me.”

Everything was moving so quickly, blurring together. You couldn’t focus. Something was there.

“Come on. Help me!”

You couldn’t—

“Help me!”

You jolted upright in bed with a gasp, heart pounding. Silence and darkness greeted you. A quick check to your DDD revealed that you had only been asleep for a few hours.

What kind of weird nightmare was that? Nothing scary had even happened, it was just a person’s voice and some strange visual noise, but for some reason it had you all shaken up. Maybe you were still subconsciously trying to process the whole “I live with demons now” thing. Or maybe being in hell just had a bad effect on the human mind. That wouldn’t be surprising.

You slumped back onto your pillows and took a few deep, even breaths. Nothing was clawing at your door, nothing was hiding under your bed (hopefully); it was just a nightmare. Easy enough to deal with.

“...please…”

...Unless it wasn’t just a nightmare, because that sounded very real.

Every muscle in your body froze still as a statue. You didn’t even blink. Was this fucking house haunted? As if six demons weren’t enough, there were ghosts too?

When several very long seconds passed, and then a minute, and then two minutes, and there were no further ominous pleas for help, you slowly pulled your blankets up to your face. Hiding under the covers wouldn’t stop an evil spirit from tearing you apart, but it still made you feel marginally more secure.

Eventually you managed to fall back to sleep. The rest of your dreams were untroubled by mysterious voices or hidden presences, and when you woke the next morning, you brushed the experience off as the product of an anxious, half-conscious imagination.

~~~

Elsewhere in the house, the one who had called out gave a frustrated sigh.

He would have to try harder next time.

Chapter Text

You’d pushed last night’s dream from your mind by the time classes ended the next day. Between needing to memorize what potion ingredients would kill you if you used them incorrectly, trying to make sense of the ridiculously long and convoluted timeline of Devildom and Celestial history, and struggling to wrap your mind around magical theory, school didn’t leave much room in your brain for anything else.

You changed into some comfortable clothes and sprawled across your bed to relax for a while before dinner. Levi was in charge of cooking tonight. An interesting thought, considering the amount of instant ramen containers and energy drinks you’d seen during your brief time in his room. How he managed to keep so slim with a diet like that was beyond you, but then again, Beel ate enough food every day to sustain a small town and he still looked like a Greek god. Demon metabolism was truly a marvel.

Nothing on Deviltube grabbed your attention as you scrolled through the suggested feed. You were sort of in the mood for a movie, but not only did you not have any movies, you also didn’t have anything to play them on. Maybe there was a House of Lamentation family Netflix account you could use (not Netflix—it would probably have some demon-themed copyright-dodging name). Or maybe you could find a site to just pirate a movie from.

You opened the DDD’s internet browser and started poking around for anything promising. Some of the sites you pulled up looked majorly sketchy (“SEXY SUCCUBI IN YOUR AREA,” read one banner ad), others just didn’t have what you were searching for. You were in the middle of playing a video clip from the TSL series Levi was so fond of when someone spoke up from the entrance to your room.

“What are you watching in here?”

You looked up to see Mammon standing in your doorway. The door had been mostly closed, which you hoped would convey the message, “I’m open to visitors but please knock first,” but apparently that was too subtle for him. That, or he just didn’t care. Either was believable.

“I was trying to watch a series Levi told me about.”

“He’s got you watching his shows already?” Mammon rolled his eyes. “Which one?”

“It’s movies, I think. The Tale of the Seven Lords?”

“Oh, that one. I should have known. He never shuts up about it.”

“Have you seen it?”

“Nah.” Mammon leaned back casually against the door frame. “I’m not into that nerd stuff. You wanna watch a real movie, ask me--I can tell you all the good ones.”

You doubted the offer was anything more than an opportunity for him to stoke his own ego, but it was an offer nonetheless. “Sure, I’ll take suggestions. All I have is my phone, though, so I probably won’t be able to watch them unless I can find them online.”

“What? You don’t have a TV?” Mammon pushed himself upright and strode into your room, looking around like there must be a television tucked away somewhere you hadn’t noticed. “What was Lucifer thinking? That you’re just gonna sit in here and do homework all the time?”

It seemed likely enough. “It’s okay. I’m just a guest, I wouldn’t expect to have a bunch of fancy stuff in my room.”

“A TV ain’t ‘fancy stuff!’” Mammon said, positively scandalized. “It’s a necessity! That’s why I’ve got three, so I can watch from anywhere in my room!”

You didn’t bother pointing out that as the Avatar of Greed, perhaps his opinion on what material goods one needed to own was a little biased. Instead, you decided to test the boundaries of your relationship with Mammon a little. Not to purposely piss him off or anything, just to see how he’d react if you treated him more like a normal roommate and less like… well, like a demon. This year long exchange was going to get tedious if you had to act subservient to everyone here the whole time.

“If you have three, you could let me have one.”

“Pft! Yeah, right!” Mammon put a hand on his hip. “I ain’t a charity. You can buy one, if you really want it.”

“You know I don’t have any money.” That was technically a lie. You had the remainder of the money from your shopping trip, and Lucifer had informed you that you’d be receiving a monthly allowance courtesy of Diavolo for the duration of your stay. This seemed like something it was probably best to keep from Mammon, though.

“Well then you’re outta luck, aren’t you?” Mammon said. “Unless you have anything else you can give me.”

“You were there when I got all my stuff, you know everything I have.”

He scowled. “Yeah, I know.”

A beat passed in silence while he contemplated how to possibly extort anything of value from you. “Hey, I saw you going through your notes for class at lunch today. You get good grades in the human world?”

...Suspicious. “I did okay.”

“Then how about you let me study off you for the rest of the year? You take all the notes for the classes we both have, and I guess I can part with one of my TVs for a while. The smallest one!”

That wasn’t as bad a proposition as you thought. You’d be taking the notes anyway, so what was the harm in sharing them? It seemed like a much better deal than having to fork over a chunk of your limited funds.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

Mammon looked a little taken aback at your easy acceptance. You had to imagine his brothers rarely said yes to him like this. “Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t mind sharing my notes.”

“Oh. Well… You better make sure they’re the best damn notes you’ve ever taken! If I’m not acing my tests, you’re not keeping the TV!”

You recalled Lucifer mentioning that Mammon’s grades were, quote, “a disgrace,” so acing his tests was probably an optimistic goal, but you nodded anyway.

“Good. Give me a minute, then, I’ll go get it,” Mammon said, and left.

Alone again, you took a long, slow breath in, held it for a second, and then let it out all at once. Mammon was… a lot. But you were starting to get a feel for his personality, beyond the obnoxious exterior, and in his less frustrating moments he was admittedly all right to be around.

He returned shortly with a decent sized flat screen tucked under his arm.

“It’s got the player built right into the side,” he said, hefting it onto a shelf, “so you don’t need to hook anything up.” Once the device was situated, he turned to you with his hands on his hips. “Now don’t break it, all right? I’m taking it back at the end of the year.”

Getting the Avatar of Greed to give you anything at all, even if it was temporary, felt like a big accomplishment. “Thanks for lending it to me. What should I watch?”

“What, right now?”

“Yeah. There’s still a couple hours before dinner.”

Mammon grinned. “You asked the right guy! I’ve got a ton of stuff you should watch if you wanna know the first thing about Devildom pop culture. Hang on, I’ll go grab something.” He hurried back to his room, and you sat down on your bed to wait.

He was back minutes later with a stack of DVDs.

“All right, here you go!” he exclaimed, dumping them all in front of you. Judging by the covers, they were mostly action flicks, the kind of thing you put on to sit back and watch explosions and car chases and turn your brain off for a while. The fact that this was what Mammon considered top quality cinema did not surprise you.

You sifted through them on the off chance that a title from the human world might be mixed in, but they were all unfamiliar. You held one up at random. “How’s this?”

“That one’s great! It’s about a secret agent who gets framed for a crime, so he’s gotta go undercover and hunt down the guy who did it to clear his name.”

Not exactly what you were in the mood to watch, but Mammon was being nicer than usual and you weren’t about to look that gift horse in the mouth. “Sounds good. I’ll put it on.” You went to the TV and switched it to the correct setting (you were relieved to find that, like the DDD, it was pretty much identical to its human world equivalent), then slid the disc in and waited for it to start before turning back to your bed, where Mammon had already made himself comfortable.

“You’re… watching too?” you asked.

He froze, as if it hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that he was acting awfully friendly for supposedly disliking you so much. “I, uh. Well, I gotta be here to explain it to you, or you’re not gonna know what’s going on! It’s a pretty complex plot for a human. And it’s got all sorts of references you wouldn’t understand. I don’t want you complaining to me later ‘cause you didn’t get it.”

“Oh. All right.” It wasn’t the worst lie you’d ever heard. The part about having references you’d need explained might even be true. You climbed onto the other side of the bed (it was large enough for there to be a fair amount of space between you) and the two of you sat in the awkward silence that came with hanging out for the first time with someone you just recently met. It wasn’t like you hadn’t spent time around each other, but it was always either for short periods at RAD or with at least one of the other brothers around, like during meals.

You honestly weren’t sure if Mammon actually disliked as much as he made it seem. He complained a lot about having you around, and most of the time it seemed like he meant it, but then there were moments like this, where he sought you out to talk to or hang around for no apparent reason, and the insults and dismissive comments felt forced. Did he just need time to warm up to you? Or maybe he just saw you as a diversion that he could pick up and drop whenever the mood struck.

With a year to spend down here, you’d figure it out eventually.

It quickly became clear as the opening credits rolled and the first scene began that Mammon was the type of person who talked during movies. He had something to say about everything that happened on screen. Under other circumstances, it might have been annoying, but in this case the constant chattering helped ease the awkward tension between you.

“That car would never be able to make a jump like that,” he remarked as the main character drove off the roof of one building to land on another.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be realistic,” you said.

“Yeah, but come on!”

Contrary to what Mammon had told you, there wasn’t much demon-specific content that required explaining. As the movie progressed into the third act, you’d only had to ask questions a couple times, and for everything else unfamiliar there were enough context clues to figure it out yourself.

Mammon gestured excitedly towards the TV when things appeared to be reaching a climax. “Here comes the best part, this is the best part!”

The main character was about to confront his nemesis in a secret mountaintop hideout. Ominous music swelled as he realized he had walked into a trap, and he fought through a wave of henchmen before ending up in a battle to the death with the antagonist. The two struggled against each other for so long it was almost comical, until the nemesis lost his footing and plummeted to his death. Mammon pumped his fist in the air and cheered.

The whole thing was so overly dramatic and Mammon’s reaction so genuinely delighted that you couldn’t help but laugh. You saw him turn to look at you from the corner of your eye.

“What?” you asked, assuming he was probably upset that you weren’t taking the movie seriously.

He looked back to the TV, brows furrowed. “Nothing.” Then, more quietly: “That’s the first time you’ve laughed since you got here.”

“Oh.” That… was not what you had expected.

“Not that I’m paying that much attention or anything!” he clarified. “You’ve just been looking scared outta your skin most of the time, so it stood out.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. ‘Guess I’m adjusting to my life being in danger 24/7, no big deal?’ ‘Thanks, it’s sweet of you to notice?’

A mop of red hair appearing in your doorway provided a convenient escape from the conversation.

“Are you guys watching a movie?”

Mammon startled, scrambling to straighten up and scoot as far away from you as the bed would allow. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

You failed to suppress a snort. Knocking, indeed.

“The door was open,” Beel pointed out. “Did you make popcorn?”

“No, there ain’t any popcorn! Get outta here!”

Beel turned his gaze to you. You had found him incredibly intimidating at first, but after only a few days of living and going to classes together you realized how quiet and reserved he actually was. The way he devoured anything even remotely edible with such single minded ferocity was still a little off putting; you weren’t as worried about him killing you anymore, though. The look he gave you now was hopeful, like a puppy waiting for a treat. It was a really, really difficult look to say no to.

“We can make popcorn next time, if you want to watch, too.”

“Hey!” Mammon protested. “‘Next time?’ What makes you think I wanna sit around watching movies with a human? I just took pity on you today!”

“Then you don’t have to come. I’ll just watch with Beel.”

Mammon scoffed. “Like I’d leave you alone with him. He’d eat you as soon as he finished the popcorn.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Beel frowned.

“Sure you would! And then Lucifer would have my head. So I’m gonna have to be there to keep you in check.” Mammon heaved a sigh, as if the mere thought exhausted him. “What a pain.”

Beel opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by an impossibly loud noise that you’d come to recognize as his stomach growling. It made you wince every time you heard it, just because of how painful it sounded. “Who’s on dinner tonight?” he asked.

Mammon shrugged. “Not me.”

“I think it’s Levi,” you said.

“Levi? Hm… I’m going to go see what he’s making.” Beel promptly abandoned the conversation to go terrorize the kitchen.

“Leave some food for the rest of us!” Mammon shouted after him.

Your stomach cramped just thinking about how much Beel was liable to consume as a pre-dinner “snack.” “How do you guys afford groceries?”

“Hell if I know. I never buy them.”

The movie wrapped up within the next twenty minutes or so, and with nothing there to fill the silence, the awkwardness from before fell back into place.

“Well,” Mammon said, rising from your bed and straightening his clothes. “I’ll, uh... leave the rest of the DVDs here. So you don’t have to come bother me next time you wanna watch something.”

“Thanks.”

“And don’t think I’m gonna let you off easy with those notes! They better be so good, I could skip class and still pass.”

You gave him a wry smile. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good.” He started to leave, then paused in the doorway. “I’m pretty busy, you know, but, uh—I’ll try to find some time for another movie. If I have to.” And he hurried away without giving you a chance to respond.

You switched the TV off and checked your DDD for the time. It was still a little early to head to the dining room, but with Beel already in the kitchen it probably wouldn’t hurt to show up first and get your pick on whatever made it out. Hopefully Levi made something edible—the cafeteria at RAD didn’t exactly cater to humans, so you’d had a meager lunch.

Sounds of music and arguing drifted from the kitchen as you stepped out into the hallway and closed your door behind you.

“Beel, get that out of your mouth!”

“I’m hungry!”

“We’re all going to be hungry if you don’t quit it!”

“...MC…”

Your breath caught in your throat. That last voice didn’t come from the kitchen. It was the one from your dream, the one that had been calling for help. Except you were very much awake right now. You stood there in one spot long enough for the current song Levi was playing to end and a new one to start, and no ghosts revealed themselves, none of the brothers jumped out from behind a curtain and went, “gotcha!” and no other phantom calls were heard.

If this kept up for more than a few days, you decided, cautiously resuming your trip to the dining room, you’d ask someone about it. For now, it was just a spooky voice. Nothing to be afraid of. You lived with a bunch of demons, after all—what could be scarier than that?

Right?

Chapter Text

A week passed uneventfully. You attended your classes without issue. You struggled through your assignments. Asmo painted your nails, Satan destroyed you in a round of chess, Beel found and stole some candy you’d tried to hide for yourself. Slowly, you started to develop a routine; slowly, you started to grow more comfortable with your demonic housemates. And you didn’t hear a single whisper from the mysterious voice. It was comforting to have things settle down after those whirlwind first few days.

You should have known it wouldn’t last.

To be fair, slipping away after class without Mammon seeing was not your brightest idea, but you really had to go to the bathroom, and it would only take a minute. He wouldn’t even have time to notice you were gone before you came back.

You hurried the short distance from your classroom to the nearest restrooms, keeping your head down along the way. Some of your classmates had actually introduced themselves over the past week and most of them were friendly enough, but you still caught plenty of whispers and glances from other demons around the campus, so you did your best to draw as little attention to yourself as possible wherever you went.

The side hallway where the bathrooms were located was mostly empty when you went in, and when you exited shortly after there was just one lone demon leaning against the wall, tapping at his phone. He pocketed the device as you walked by.

“Hey. Off by yourself?”

Little alarm bells instantly went off in your head. Your steps faltered, torn between running away without a second thought and stopping to respond (between “I don’t want to die” and “I don’t want to be rude,” one was clearly more important, but you still paused). “I’m just going to the cafeteria,” you said with a glance back, and picked up the pace.

You almost breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t respond, thinking he must have just wanted to scare you—and then something tugged you backwards by your backpack, hard enough to make you stumble.

“I was about to head there myself,” the demon said. When you tried to turn around, he yanked on your bag again, pulling you farther down the hallway. “But I think I might eat out here instead.”

Okay, code red, this man was about to kill you. You slid the backpack off your shoulders and started to run, only for the demon to grab you by the wrist and begin dragging you in earnest along the hall to God-knows-where, probably an empty classroom where he could devour you in peace. He wrenched you closer and slapped his free hand over your mouth when you drew in a breath to call for help.

“You scream, and I’ll tear your throat out right here,” he warned. “I’ll make it hurt.” He waited until you nodded to remove his hand.

If shouting would get you killed, you probably wouldn’t fare much better trying to attack him. Kicking, punching, scratching, biting—could you even hurt him? What options did you have left?

...Well. Maybe there was one option. But it was a big maybe.

Mammon, you thought, desperately trying to summon up the sensation you’d felt when you invoked the pact before, please help, please please please help, I don’t know if this will work but I’m about to die and I need you.

You kept up the mental plea as the demon pulled you along, rounding a corner and making for an unmarked door. He knocked it open to reveal what looked like a storage room.

Please hurry.

Shelves and stacks of crates filled half the space, but with the windows shuttered and only the torchlight from the hallway filtering in, you couldn’t make out much detail. The demon shoved you against a wall and pinned the arm he had a grip on over your head.

“I thought this would be harder, with those brothers looking after you,” he said. He leaned in close, nose brushing your neck, and inhaled deeply. “Mm. Guess they don’t actually care. I wouldn’t, either. I would have killed you on the first day.”

Mammon…

“Maybe I should save a piece of you for them? I bet that’d get me a favor, at least from Beelzebub.” He pressed a finger into your chest, right over your heart. “But I’ve never gotten to taste a human before. I’d rather keep you all for myself.”

Your body trembled as you forced back a sob. You were not going to break down, not yet. If you were gone for long enough, someone would eventually notice. They’d come looking for you. You just had to draw this out, either until you found a way to escape or until someone rescued you.

“Diavolo will find out,” you said, voice coming out as barely more than a whisper.

The prince’s name didn’t have the effect you’d hoped. The demon laughed once, no more worried than if you’d just threatened to fistfight him yourself.

“No he won’t. No one saw me take you. No one,” he emphasized, seeing you about to speak again, “is going to find you. You’re mine.”

With that declaration, his nails pierced your skin, lengthening into claws that sent rivulets of blood streaming down your arm. Horns curled from his head. He grinned, and a mouthful of sharp teeth glinted in the dim light.

“Where should I start?” he asked, teasing a finger along your jaw.

You swallowed hard. So this was really it. No last-minute miracle. No clever way out. Just you getting ripped apart in some dusty back room. Would they send your mangled corpse back home? Would there even be a body left to find?

“Come on,” the demon goaded, “I know you want to beg. I can see it in your eyes. ‘Please don’t kill me, I don’t want to die!’”

Your free hand balled into a fist. If this was really your last stand, you were at least going to give the bastard some trouble.

“Beg for me, little human. I want to hear it.”

You brought a knee up hard into his groin. “Fuck you.”

The small glimmer of hope you’d had that the surprise attack might give you a chance to escape evaporated as his grip on your arm tightened. He only cringed, a muttered curse slipping between clenched teeth, before lunging at your throat.

You squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the end. But it didn’t come.

The door to the classroom burst open just as the demon’s teeth broke skin. You opened your eyes in time to see him scramble away from you, and away from the door, as a wave of energy swept through the room. It felt like the heaviness in the air before a thunderstorm, intense enough to make you sway on your feet. Black suddenly engulfed your vision. It took a few seconds to process why, but when your fear-addled brain caught up to reality you realized it was wings. Four of them. And they were attached to Lucifer.

“Would you care to explain what you were doing?” he asked the other demon.

“I, uh...”

“Wait outside. If you try to run, I will hunt you down and skin you alive, do you understand?”

The demon nodded and scurried out of the room. Not even a second later, Mammon skidded to a stop in the doorway, looking frantic and confused. His eyes widened as he took in Lucifer, and then you, clutching your bloody arm to your chest.

“What happened?” he asked.

“The human you’re supposed to be watching was nearly killed,” Lucifer said, turning to face you. Logically, you knew he had just saved your life, but you still shrank back against the wall beneath his gaze. He gave you a brief once over before reaching out and tilting your head to the side to get a better look at the (thankfully) shallow bite mark, before moving on to your arm.

“Let me see.”

You offered it to him to examine. His touch was surprisingly gentle, despite the pressure still radiating off him. While he inspected the wounds, you stared at his horns and wings, still on edge but unable to deny your curiosity at seeing something so fantastical up close in a not-life-threatening situation. Focusing on the little details helped you calm down enough to at least get your breathing under control.

“Mammon,” Lucifer said, returning your arm.

“...Yeah?”

Lucifer turned back around and leveled his brother with a glare hot enough to melt steel. “Take them home and tend to their injuries. You can manage that, can’t you?”

Mammon’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah.”

“Do you have something to say?”

“...No. I don’t.”

“Then leave. Most of the campus is at lunch, so you’ll be spared the shame of the entire student body seeing how spectacularly you failed at your job.”

Mammon glanced between you and Lucifer before dropping his gaze to the floor. “Fine. Come on, human.”

“We’ll discuss your punishment when I get home,” Lucifer added as the two of you left the room.

The demon who attacked you stood just outside. Mammon pulled you closer as you walked by.

He was uncharacteristically quiet during your trip back to the house, hands shoved in his pockets, staring at the ground with an irritated expression. You weren’t in any mood to humor him, so you stayed just as silent. Your injuries throbbed with a dull pain. Hopefully they weren’t infected with some demonic toxin.

Mammon led you back to your own room, disappearing into the bathroom and rooting through the cabinet beneath your sink and returning with a small first aid kit that looked like it must have been purchased in the human world specifically for your stay.

He sat down on your bed and motioned for you to do the same. “Come on.”

You watched him hesitate, falter, and fumble over the supplies—he clearly had no idea what he was doing—but he did his best to carefully clean and bandage your wounds, starting with the bite and moving along your arm.

“You better not do anything that stupid again,” he said eventually.

You looked up at him. He didn’t meet your eyes. “Sorry.”

“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it if you end up dead.” He tugged on the length of bandage he was attempting to wrap around your arm, grimacing when it all slid off. “Humans are fragile. You can’t go wandering off by yourself.”

“Maybe they should have thought about that before they brought me here.”

He did glance up at that, but his expression was unreadable. “Well, you still got a whole year left, so get used to it. I’ll put you on a leash if I have to.”

“I feel like that might send the wrong message.”

You hadn’t even intended to fluster him, the line just slipped out, but Mammon went as red as if you’d said it with a wink and kiss.

“Wh—fuck! No! I don’t—why would you even say something like that! You’ve been hanging around Asmo too much!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, which only made him more indignant.

“Stop laughing at me! I’m trying to help you, here! Sit still!”

“Sorry, sorry,” you said, settling back down. It was a relief to feel some of the tension that had followed you from campus lift slightly. “I guess it is a good thing I made a pact with you.”

He snorted. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” You watched him work on your arm in silence for a moment. “I didn’t know if it would work like that. Without you being there.”

“It doesn’t, really,” Mammon said, unwrapping and re-wrapping a section until he was satisfied. “It’s not like I was following an order. It just felt like something was kinda… tugging on me. And I could tell you were scared. But I could have sat there and kept eating my lunch and left you for dead! So you better be grateful that I bothered to save you.”

“Technically Lucifer saved me,” you teased.

“I’m the one who told him something was wrong!” Mammon objected. “He wouldn’t have had a clue if it weren’t for me! So I’m still the one you should be thanking!”

You smiled, but it slipped away as you thought about the punishment Lucifer had mentioned, despite the whole ordeal really being your fault.

“What is it?” Mammon asked, noticing your expression change. “Shit, am I doing this too tight? I’m—,”

“No,” you interrupted, “it’s fine. I just… I really am glad that you came. I didn’t think I was going to make it.”

Mammon fiddled with the bandages. “Yeah, well. Not like I could let some nobody get his teeth in you. Think about how that’d make me look. And Lucifer would have killed me.”

The two of you lapsed back into silence while Mammon grew more and more exasperated with his attempt at first aid. After a couple minutes, he sighed.

“Ah… I, um. Listen.”

He ran a hand through the hair at the back of his head, which you had figured out days ago was one of his go-to nervous tells.

“I know I said I saved you this time—and I did!—but… The next time you’re in trouble, it’s gonna be just me, all right? Not Lucifer, not anyone else. And if I can’t get to you, then…” His brows furrowed as he struggled to find words for whatever he wanted to say. You could practically see the frustration building up behind his eyes. “Then just die! I don’t want anyone else stepping in, you understand? It’s me or no one!”

The absurd demand didn’t strike you as much as the apparent emotion behind it. “Why?” you asked.

He looked back down to your arm. He wasn’t even fixing the bandages anymore, just holding on like you might fall apart the moment he let go. “It’s my job, ain’t it?”

The urge to reach out and touch his face struck you. You blinked at the thought, willing it away as quickly as it had come. No crushes, you reminded yourself. You’re probably just all fucked up because you almost died.

“Hey.” You gave Mammon a small smile. “If you want to be my knight in shining armor, you better run faster next time.”

He went red again, a sight you were becoming fond of (NO CRUSHES), and threw the roll of bandages at your head. “Shut up!”

****

Mammon kept you company the rest of the afternoon, until everyone else returned from classes and Lucifer dragged him away for whatever terrible punishment he had planned. Asmo stopped by to fuss over your injuries (“Oh, I have a cream that will stop this from scarring, let me put it on for you!”), Beel dropped off an armload of protein bars (“You’ll heal faster if you eat better,”), and Lucifer came to return your backpack (he actually didn’t say much, just made sure you were okay and left). It all worked to distract you, which was good, because you didn’t want to think about what had happened. You couldn’t afford to. If you were going to make it through a whole year here, where everyone was powerful and magical and wanted to eat you, you couldn’t let one brush with death break your spirit.

Easy enough to say.

As you tried to fall asleep, though, it was all you could see. The teeth, the claws, the eyes. They followed you into your dreams, where Lucifer and Mammon never showed up to save you, or sometimes it was Lucifer or Mammon killing you, and you couldn’t scream and it took forever to pull yourself awake but only seconds to fall back into the nightmares.

You tossed and turned all night, hardly getting any rest. You were already lying awake when the alarm on your DDD went off in the morning. Groaning, you rubbed at your eyes and sat up, body heavy, injuries sore, head pounding. Good fucking morning.

At the edge of your consciousness, you could almost hear laughter.

Chapter Text

The next forty-eight hours presented you with some good news and some bad news. The good news was that the minor injuries you’d sustained during the attack were healing nicely, and that your less friendly classmates were giving you a wide berth (your attacker seemed to have up and vanished, and although Lucifer didn’t outright tell you he killed him… you were pretty sure he killed him). At least one of the brothers made sure to always stick by your side around RAD now, just to be extra safe.

The bad news was that you had apparently developed a sleepwalking habit.

It was confusing, to say the least, the first night you woke up standing in a random hallway with Lucifer glaring at you.

“Out for a stroll?” he asked.

You blinked at him, still trying to process why you were suddenly there and not your room. “...What?”

“It’s late. You should be in bed.”

“I was in bed…”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes as you rubbed at yours. “And now you aren’t.”

You didn’t respond. Yeah, obviously you weren’t, but… why? You tried to recall if maybe you’d gotten up to go to the bathroom and been too out of it to remember you weren’t in your own house, or if you’d gone to get some water from the kitchen and walked a little too far without realizing, but your last conscious memory was settling down to sleep.

Great. This was probably some side effect of living in hell. Your brain would be fried by the end of the year, if you made it that far at all.

“Go back to your room,” Lucifer said. “I don’t want to see you out this late again.”

You were already planning on going back to your room, so you turned to leave without argument, although you couldn’t help but mutter, “Okay, mom,” under your breath as you left. He really had the strict parent routine mastered.

“What was that?”

“I said good night.”

****

The following night found you unconsciously out and about again. And again, Lucifer intercepted you somewhere along the way. He didn’t bother with conversation this time, simply taking you by the shoulders and turning you back in the direction of your room, leaning in close to murmur, “Back to bed,” right into your ear (when you recalled the situation in the morning, your cheeks flushed red—thank God you’d been too zonked out to react in the moment).

Maybe you could see about getting some kind of sleep aid to help keep you in bed. If you didn’t think of something, Lucifer would probably just start locking you in your room at night. You weren’t fond of the idea, but it was arguably better than you stumbling out of the house in your pajamas and getting eaten.

You stifled a yawn as you packed your textbooks for the day into your backpack. Jesus. Everything here was an ordeal, even sleeping. It was going to be a long year.

*****

Lucifer watched the human shuffle back to their room, waiting until he heard the soft click of their door before he turned to the staircase with a frown. He had assumed, of course, that Belphegor may have been to blame when he found them wandering near the attic last night, but he also understood that sleepwalking wasn’t terribly uncommon for humans, and he could have caught them in that location by sheer coincidence.

When he found them standing in the same spot tonight in a half-conscious daze, he knew he was a fool to give his brother the benefit of the doubt. Of course it was Belphegor. The brat couldn’t leave well enough alone. What did he even hope to accomplish by drawing the human there? Even if they made it up to the attic, Lucifer had layered enough spellwork into the space to render the room—and its occupant—undetectable.

He allowed himself a moment of visible frustration, alone in the dark hall where no one could see or judge him for it. He rubbed a hand over his face, shoulders slumped, and sighed, his usual impassive expression dissolving into something that looked as tired as he felt. He just needed this year to pass smoothly. Just one year. Keep the human alive, and in the meantime, it would give him enough time to figure out how to deal with Belphegor.

Lucifer cast a simple ward over the staircase to divert the human’s attention should they happen to wander that way again. As for the sleepwalking… There wasn’t much he could do aside from placing a protective spell on them directly to shield them from Belphegor’s influence. It would be easy enough to lie to them about it—he could say it was to defend them from the lesser demons at RAD and they’d either accept it as truth or be too afraid to question him further. His brothers would get nosy if they found the human steeped in his magic, though.

Talking to Belphegor was out of the question. Anything Lucifer asked him to do, he’d double down in the opposite direction out of spite.

Honestly, his best course of action was probably to do nothing. If he just kept the human away from the attic, eventually Belphegor would give up. Persistence wasn’t in his nature.

Lucifer double checked all the wards he had in place one final time before returning to his study for the night. Despite the work he’d put in during the day, the sizable stack of paperwork remaining on his desk promised a night of little to no sleep.

He left the study again with a sigh, heading for the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. He was going to need it.

Chapter Text

You were busy working on an assignment for one of your classes when your DDD pinged with a message. In a perfect world, you would ignore it and finish the homework, and whoever was trying to get your attention would wait for you to reply, but this was far from a perfect world, and you had quickly learned that the members of this house didn’t like when you ignored their texts.

Mammon’s contact photo lit up the screen as you unlocked the device.

Mammon: Hey
Mammon: Come to the kitchen

Me: Why?

Mammon: Because I said so!!!
Mammon: Get in here or I’ll drag your ass outta your room myself!!

You grimaced, eyeing your unfinished assignment. It really needed to be done tonight, but… a small break wouldn’t hurt.

Me: Okay I’m coming

You slipped the phone into your pocket and headed to the kitchen. Mammon was digging through the fridge when you got there.

“What did you need?” you asked, peering around him at the mostly empty shelves inside.

He straightened up and held something out to you. “Here. Eat this.”

The “this” in question was a container of some kind of pudding or custard, with the word BEEL written across the lid in big letters.

“It says ‘Beel’ on it,” you pointed out.

“I know how to read,” Mammon snapped, and brandished it at you more forcefully, “now hurry up and eat it. You just need to take a bite.”

“Why?”

He reached out and grabbed one of your hands, setting the dessert into your palm himself, then handed you a spoon as well. “Just do what I tell you to, all right? Beel ate all the good stuff and I want a snack, but I don’t want to be the only one getting in trouble when he pitches a fit about someone stealing his food.”

You blanched at the thought of being on the receiving end of Beel’s ire for that particular crime. Yesterday in the cafeteria at RAD he broke someone’s hand because they took the last of the sandwiches he had been in line for.

“I don’t want it,” you said, gingerly placing the custard down on the counter.

“I ain’t asking! Just shut up and take a bite, you’ll be fine!”

“I don’t want to!”

“Fine, then I’ll make you!” Mammon tore the lid off the container and stuck his own spoon in, then thrust it into your face. “Come on! Open up!”

“Mm-mm!” You shook your head and stumbled backwards away from him—right into someone’s rock solid chest.

Mammon’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

“That’s mine,” Beel said. You felt a growl rumble up from inside him before you heard it.

“Is it? I think you might be thinking of something else, ‘cause I—,”

“It’s mine.” Beel pushed you out of the way, none too gently, to advance on Mammon, who shot you a worried look. Beel’s form shimmered like hot air above pavement and suddenly he had black, insectoid wings and dark horns that curled around the front of his head. A feeling similar to when Lucifer burst in to save your life the other day seeped into the air—heavy, oppressive.

“Run!” Mammon shouted, at the same time Beel charged forward.

You scurried out of the kitchen, but quickly realized that simply being out of the room was not far enough as a cast iron skillet crashed through the wall and flew past your head with enough force to embed itself in the stone behind you.

Satan rounded the corner down the hall, presumably drawn from the library by the commotion. “What the hell is going on?”

You ran over, fully intending to use him as a human (demon) shield against the chaos the two others were raining down on the kitchen.

“Who’s in there?” Satan asked.

“Beel and Mammon.”

He rolled his eyes. “What did Mammon do?”

“Took some of Beel’s food.”

“Idiot.”

“IT’S JUST A FUCKING CUSTARD, BEEL, I DIDN’T EVEN EAT ANY!” Mammon yelled, followed by, “Hey, whoa, put that down! You’re gonna—,”

His next words were drowned out by a massive crash, strong enough to shake the floor beneath your feet. A cloud of dust and debris billowed out of the doorway to your bedroom. Even from your position down the hall, you could tell that something had just demolished the wall between your room and the kitchen.

“Ah. Good thing you weren’t in there,” Satan commented idly, as if your accidental death would have been a minor inconvenience at worst.

Mammon’s voice rang out again from the combat zone. “GET A GRIP, BEEL!”

“Should someone stop them?” you asked, more than a little worried on Mammon’s part.

“They’ll be fine. Beel is strong, but Mammon is fast. I’m sure Lucifer will be here any minute to lay into them, anyway; half the Devildom probably heard that.”

As if summoned, Lucifer’s figure swept into view at the opposite end of the corridor, haloed by a visible black aura.

“Speak of the devil,” Satan said. “Good luck. I’m not involved in this.” And he walked away.

You must have been removed enough from the scene of destruction that Lucifer deemed you a bystander, because he barely spared you a glance as he stalked into the kitchen, oozing fury in a way that made you want to fall to your knees and cower.

“MAMMON! BEELZEBUB!”

The sounds of fighting ceased almost instantly.

“Out. Now.”

There was some shuffling around, and Mammon emerged from the wreckage with Beel close behind. Mammon sported horns and wings of his own that promptly blinked out of existence when he spotted you watching. Beel’s stayed in place, the agitated flicker of his wings betraying a temper not yet fully reigned in.

Lucifer took a moment to survey the damage to both rooms before gripping his brothers by their shoulders and marching them away. You were surprised to hear him call your name over his shoulder.

“You, too.”

So much for being a bystander.

You hurried to catch up, trailing a few steps behind Lucifer. The black aura was gone but it was still a little uncomfortable to be close to him. He led the three of you to a closed door—Beel’s demonic features slipped out of sight along the way—and let himself inside, and as you, Mammon, and Beel filed in behind, you realized it was his bedroom.

The space was what you’d expect for a man like Lucifer—dark, elegant, luxurious but not extravagant. It was fitting.

Lucifer stood in front of a desk brimming with neatly organized files and papers and fixed your little trio with a glare that had you squirming on your feet.

“Well?”

“I was just looking for something to eat when Beel came up and attacked me!” Mammon immediately cried.

Beel clenched his fists. “You stole my food.”

“No, I didn’t! I was just holding it!”

“The lid was off.”

“Wha—oh, well,” Mammon floundered, “That’s ‘cause MC was about to eat it! I was trying to stop them!”

What? Your whole room was destroyed and he was going to try to throw you under the bus? “No I wasn’t!”

“I walked in on you telling them to eat it, Mammon,” Beel said. “I’m not stupid.”

Lucifer closed his eyes (you imagined he was silently counting to ten) and cut in before things could devolve into a full-on argument. “Let me get this straight. Mammon went rummaging for food, took some of Beel’s, and dragged MC in as an accomplice. Beel found out, lost control, and went on a rampage, and now not only is the kitchen destroyed, but MC’s room as well. Is that correct?”

“I guess…” Mammon said, and Beel mumbled in agreement.

“MC,” Lucifer said, and you stiffened. “Have a seat. I’ll speak with you later.” He gestured to the other side of the room, where an armchair and a small table were arranged in front of a fireplace.

Relief coursed through you. “Okay.”

“What!?” Mammon protested. “Why do they get to—,”

“Mammon.”

You practically ran away, eager to be out of the line of fire, even if just for the moment, for whatever punishment Mammon and Beel were about to receive.

It ended up being a very, very lengthy lecture, one that you tuned out after the first fifteen or so minutes. Thankfully you had your DDD on you to provide a distraction. Lucifer kept at it for close to half an hour. You caught snippets of his monologue as your attention drifted—he chastised his brothers for causing property damage, for lacking control, for endangering you, for embarrassing their reputation as nobility, for giving him extra work…. after a certain point, you got the feeling that he might have just been using the opportunity to vent some unrelated, pent-up frustration.

When the tirade did eventually draw to a close, Lucifer called you back over.

“Mammon, Beel,” he said, expectantly.

Beel shifted from foot to foot, his head down, holding his hands almost timidly against his chest. The berserker from the kitchen was gone—now he just looked like a kicked puppy with its tail between its legs.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Mammon crossed his arms, significantly less repentant as he grumbled out a “sorry” as well.

“I expect the two of you to learn something from this,” Lucifer said. A little preachy, for a demon. “Now, MC. It seems you won’t be able to use your room for some time. Since it lacks a wall.” He gave his brothers a pointed look. “So for the time being, I want you to stay in Beel’s room.”

“What? Why are you sticking them in his room?” Mammon said. “There’s enough space in my room, isn’t there?”

“Don’t be jealous over something so trivial,” Lucifer chided, “it’s immature.”

Mammon’s cheeks went red. “Why would I be jealous? I just—they’ve got a pact with me, that’s all!”

“Your pact is irrelevant. There’s an extra bed in Beel’s room.”

You were actually about to speak up in agreement with Mammon, until you got another look at Beel’s pitiful expression, and you couldn’t bring yourself to make him feel any worse than he already did. Sure, he frightened you a little, just because of his sheer size and the obvious fact that he was a demon who had offhandedly mentioned wanting to eat you, but he had been nothing but civil towards you until this point (aside from stealing off your plate sometimes at meals), and he seemed genuinely upset at having gone overboard. Plus, Lucifer wouldn’t put you in his room unless he thought you’d be safe there, right?

You’d let it play out, for now.

“This is not a request, Beel. Do you understand?” Lucifer asked.

“Yeah. I understand.”

“Then you’re dismissed.”

Mammon stormed out right away, muttering under his breath. You managed to catch “this sucks” before he was gone. You and Beel followed, standing in awkward silence as the door closed behind you.

“Do you want to go get stuff out of your room?” he asked.

You nodded. “Sure.”

When you got to the scene of the crime, the damage wasn’t actually as extensive as you’d thought on your side of the (now nonexistent) wall. Your bed was crushed underneath the entire fridge, but other than that, most of your furniture and minimal belongings were unharmed.

Beel hefted the refrigerator back into the correct room while you gathered up some clothes and toiletries. Now you just needed your school supplies, and….

Shit.

You had been sitting on your bed doing homework. The bed that was now nothing more than a pile of rubble.

Beel turned at the sound of you groaning. “What is it?”

“My homework was under there.”

“Oh.” He at least had the decency to look sheepish. “I can help you start over, if you want.”

“Thanks.” You kicked at a chunk of stone on the floor. There wasn’t much else here you needed (there wasn’t much else you even had), so you just grabbed your toothbrush and called it good.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah.”

Beel cast a longing glance at the ruined fridge and picked his way through the debris back into the hall. “Okay. Follow me.”

Chapter Text

“So… this is my room.”

Beel stood off to one side as you stepped in and looked around. He was clearly a little uncomfortable, and you couldn’t exactly blame him. The two of you weren’t very close, still in that awkward, “not really friends but past the point of acquaintances” stage, and now you had to live out of his bedroom.

It was a big bedroom, at least. A line divided it down the middle into two halves, one red with a golden sun motif on the wall over the bed, and the other purple with a crescent moon. You had assumed when Lucifer said there was an extra bed that Beel just had another one tucked away for some reason, but this looked like a shared space.

“You can use my bed,” Beel said, pointing to the red side. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“On the couch?” you repeated, confused, and he nodded. “Why?”

He fidgeted with his hands for a few seconds before answering. “The other bed is my brother’s. The one you asked about before.”

At first you couldn’t think of what he meant, but then you remembered—back on one of those first few nights, when Levi had gotten you into the pact with Mammon, you had found Beel in the kitchen and asked if there was someone else you hadn’t met yet. The question had upset him.

“His name is Belphegor,” Beel continued. “He’s in the human world right now as an exchange student.”

“Oh.” That was interesting—before, in the kitchen, he had said they had to act like Belphegor didn’t exist, and warned you not to bring him up around Lucifer. Why would that be the case if he was just studying in the human world? The curiosity gnawed at you, but it still seemed like too touchy of a subject to broach, so you settled for commenting, “I didn’t know you shared a room.”

Beel nodded. “We’re twins.”

“Twins?” You hoped for the sake of whatever humans he was staying with that Belphegor didn’t share an identical appetite with his brother.

“Yeah. We don’t look alike, though. It just means we were made at the same time. We’re pretty much opposites.” Beel smiled slightly, as if recalling a fond memory. “But we’ve always gotten along. We were the youngest, with our sister, so we always stayed together.”

Hang on—a sister? No one had even mentioned a sister before. How many secret siblings did this family have?

“You have a sister?”

Beel’s hands, held loosely together, clenched. He stared at the floor with an expression that made your heart ache. “She died a long time ago.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what else to say. You hadn’t even thought about whether or not demons could die, honestly.

Beel pulled in a deep breath and sighed. When he looked at you again, he had composed himself, all the sadness pushed back somewhere inside. “I don’t want to talk about her. You can put your stuff over here.” He gestured to a space on his side of the room.

You were thankful for the change of subject. “Are you sure you’re okay sleeping on the couch? I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed.”

“It’s fine. Lucifer would be mad if I made you sleep on the couch, anyway.”

He turned away, leaving no further room for argument, and went about setting up a blanket and pillows for his impromptu sleeping situation while you settled hesitantly on his bed. True to his word, he did help you restart the homework you’d lost (with a lot more snack breaks than you tended to take). The awkward tension between you faded as the night went on. You chatted as you worked--about the human world, about the Devildom, about your life back home, about Beel’s and his brothers' escapades over the centuries. With how quiet he tended to be, you were pleasantly surprised at how easily he kept up a conversation. It was nice to have a chance to hang out and get to know him a little better without anyone else (Mammon) barging in and demanding your attention.

Beel closed his textbook when you started to yawn. “You should go to bed.”

As much as you might have liked to say otherwise—there was still some work left to do—you truly were tired and knew you’d regret staying up any later. “Okay,” you nodded.

You still felt bad watching Beel fit himself onto the couch before he turned off the lights with a wave of his hand, even though he’d assured you really didn’t mind.

“Good night,” he called, and you called back, “Good night.”

You were more comfortable than you thought you’d be in his bed. Right after Lucifer had said you’d be sharing a room, your immediate worry was that Beel might eat you in his sleep, but bundled up all cozy and warm in his blankets, surrounded by his scent (something mellow and clean, probably from whatever soap he used), it was hard to feel anything but relaxed. You drifted off quickly and slept, peaceful and undisturbed, through the night.

****

On your way to breakfast the next morning, you found Mammon lurking outside a nearly-closed door, leaning with one ear towards the gap to listen in on whatever was happening inside. He put a finger to his lips when he noticed you approaching. Against your better judgement, you sidled up alongside him to see what had captured his attention.

“...haven’t heard from Belphie.” That was Beel’s voice.

“He’s probably busy.” Lucifer. “There’s a lot to do as an exchange student.”

“But he hasn’t sent anything at all. He can’t be that busy.”

“Maybe he broke his DDD. It’s not as if anyone up there would be able to repair it. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“He’s probably upset, though. I just want to talk to him. He didn’t even want to go to the human world in the first place.”

“I’m aware.” Lucifer sounded irritated.

“I know you’re mad at him, but please don’t make him stay there. If you really have to send someone, I’ll go.”

“No.”

“But—,”

“You understand the point of the exchange program, don’t you?”

Beel huffed. “Yeah.”

“It’s because Belphegor was against the program that I sent him. It will be good for him.”

“I guess.”

“Look, Beel, it’s not that I don’t understand how you feel. I know being apart from Belphie is hard for you. But you need to trust me. And listen to me. He’s staying in the human world. I don’t want to hear anything else about it.”

Mammon tugged on your arm. “Come on,” he whispered. “If we stay here, Lucifer’s gonna find us.”

The two of you retreated to the dining room, Lucifer and Beel entering a few minutes later, and you were almost surprised when Mammon didn’t give either of you away by trying to not-so-subtly bring up the conversation you’d overheard. You figured he’d just dismissed it--it didn’t seem like anything terribly important, after all, just Beel being upset because he missed his brother. The amount of half-eaten food on his plates suggested it was still weighing on him.

You weren’t the only one who noticed. “Are you feeling okay, Beel?” Satan asked midway through breakfast.

Beel frowned at his forkful of eggs. “I’m fine.”

Satan looked unconvinced but didn’t press further.

When it came time to leave, Mammon slung his bag over one shoulder and turned to you. “Ready to go, human?”

“Sure.”

With how nondisruptive he had been so far that morning, you figured he must have had something on his mind. Sure enough, after a minute or two of small talk he asked what he was really thinking, going back to the conversation you’d eavesdropped on between Lucifer and Beel.

“Anyone tell you about Belphie yet?”

“Beel mentioned him.”

“Hm. It’s kinda messed up, what happened. Belphie didn’t like the idea of the exchange program when Diavolo told us about it. He tried to tell Lucifer, but Lucifer wouldn’t listen to a single thing he said. Just sent him straight up to the human world, and that was that.”

That seemed… dangerous. Sending a powerful, angry demon to live alone and unsupervised amongst a bunch of random humans? “Isn’t he worried Belphie might do something? Like, act out while he’s up there, if he was so against going?”

“The laws about us being in the human world are super strict. He’d be in beyond serious shit if he did something to ruin the program on purpose. Like, tossed in the dungeon for a thousand years serious.” Mammon scowled. “Lucifer probably would have sent him anyway, though, even if he was worried, just ‘cause he was being so vocal against Diavolo.”

“It seems like he takes his job really seriously,” was your carefully neutral response to that.

Mammon snorted. “You don’t even know. The worst part is, he didn’t always used to be like that. I mean, he’s always been a pretty serious guy, but… eh, how do I explain this…” He thought about his next words with more care than you were used to seeing (that is to say, with any care at all). “So, we all used to be angels, back up in the Celestial Realm.”

You barely stopped yourself from blurting, “Angels???” All of the brothers seemed so naturally attached to their cardinal sin, it was difficult to imagine there had been a time before it.

“Back then, Lucifer wasn’t such a hard ass. He was easier on all of us, especially Beel and Belphie and—,” he faltered, just for a second. “He was just real soft with them, you know?”

If Beel hadn't dropped that there used to be an eighth member of their family last night, you probably wouldn’t have even noticed the slip-up. But now you knew that it was most likely her name Mammon had almost said. It was a sore subject for all of them, then.

“But things changed after we fell,” Mammon continued. “Diavolo made Lucifer his right hand man, and now Lucifer always puts what he wants in front of anything else, no matter what. Even if it’s something he doesn’t agree with.” He kicked at a pebble on the path, sending it flying off into the bushes. “It just pisses me off sometimes. I mean, seriously, would it kill him to be a little flexible?

“But anyway. That’s why he wouldn’t listen to Belphie. Not that I’m saying Belphie would have made him change his mind or anything, but… I dunno, if the two of them would have just talked it out, maybe it would have ended up different.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, still mulling over the fact that the brothers used to be angels.

“‘Yeah?’ That’s all you have to say?” Mammon complained. “I tell you all that stuff and you can’t think of something besides ‘yeah?’”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say how interesting it was! And how smart I sound, making those observations!”

“It was really interesting and you’re really smart,” you said, with as little enthusiasm as possible.

He gave you a playful push with his elbow. “Ah, shut up. What do I even keep you around for if you can’t at least give me some praise now and then?”

“I don’t know,” you grinned, happy that his teasing held none of the malice from when you’d first arrived. You actually did have something else to comment on, however. You just didn’t know how appropriate it would be to bring it up. “Can I ask why you stopped being angels?”

Judging by the face he made, it was at least a little inappropriate.

“We had a fight,” was all he said. You were worried you’d ruined his good mood, but he bounced back quickly. “Angels suck, anyway. Buncha stuck-up assholes.”

You thought about Simeon and Luke. Luke, you could understand--he didn’t exactly hide his disdain for demons. Simeon, though... ‘Stuck up’ and ‘asshole’ didn’t exactly seem like fitting descriptors. Enchanting was more appropriate. Beautiful, charming, ethereal...

“Hey!” Mammon snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Stop daydreaming and pay attention to me.”

“I’m paying attention,” you assured him with a small smile. Exhausting as it could be, you had to admire his frankness. You never had to guess what he wanted, because the second the thought crossed his mind he broadcasted it to everyone in a five-mile radius.

“Good. We’ve got a quiz today, right? You’re gonna let me study off you!”

Just like that.

****

You flopped onto Beel’s/your bed at the end of the day. Mammon’s idea of “studying” off you for the quiz that afternoon had really meant “cheating,” and it landed both of you in hot water when the instructor caught him stealing answers. As if receiving detention like a child wasn’t embarrassing enough (and also confusing—you couldn’t tell if this was supposed to be a college or a high school), Lucifer had chewed the two of you out the second you got home. Everyone at dinner teased you for being too nice and not telling Mammon off or using your pact to stop him.

Beel surprised you by continuing the discussion once you were both back in his room. Or trying to, at least. Your face was buried too far into his pillow to hear exactly what he said.

“Huh?” you asked, sitting up.

“I said I’m glad you’re nice to Mammon,” he repeated. “It makes him happy.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“It probably seems like we’re all really mean to him.”

You hesitated to agree (even though you very much did), not wanting it to come across as an insult, but he didn’t seem like he would get upset about it. “Yeah,” you admitted.

Beel nodded. “He deserves some of it. He steals our stuff all the time, and he’s always getting himself in trouble. But I know he can’t really help it.” His stomach rumbled loudly, as if to emphasize his point. “He knows everyone cares about him. It’s just easier to pick on him. And it’s been like that for so long now, everyone’s just gotten used to it.”

He sat down on the bed next to you and you nearly tipped over onto him as the mattress dipped under his weight.

“I think it still bothers him sometimes. He won’t say anything about it, though; he wants everyone to think he’s tough. He’s just like Lucifer.”

You had to laugh at that. Beel smiled, too.

“I know. Neither of them would like to hear me say that. But it’s true.” He considered you for a moment, and you wondered what he was thinking. Did he still see you as some kind of forbidden snack? Were you more like an interesting pet?

“Anyway. It’s good that you’re nice to him. Just be careful. He’s not bad--I mean, he is bad, the same way we all are, but… He’ll take advantage of it, if you’re too nice. Even if he likes you. It’s in his nature.”

He was still staring at you, his pink-purple eyes far less piercing than Lucifer or Asmo but no less keen. You weren’t sure how exactly to respond and the silence started to stretch a little uncomfortably, until your DDD pinged. Beel seemed to take that as a sign that your conversation was over, and left the bed to grab his pajamas and go change in the bathroom (he had casually started pulling his pants off in front of you last night and you’d just about choked). You swiped open the device to see a message from Luke.

Luke: I’m at the front gate. Can you come outside?

Chapter Text

You stared at Luke’s message for a moment before typing out a response. Why was he outside the House of Lamentation? That was the obvious question, but if he was already there, possibly by himself, you were more concerned with making sure he was okay. Angel or not, he was just a child.

You: Be there in a sec

You slipped your DDD into your pocket and pulled on a sweatshirt in case Luke needed you to go somewhere with him. “I’ll be right back,” you called to Beel.

He poked his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. “M’kay.”

Everyone else in the house had retired to their rooms after dinner, leaving your path to the front door uninterrupted. You counted yourself lucky--none of the brothers were necessarily hostile towards Luke, but they definitely all agitated him, and if something really was wrong you didn’t want them around making it worse. One “puppy” comment and you’d have to spend half the night just calming him down.

Outside, Luke’s white clothes made him instantly visible in the darkness at the end of the drive. Any demon lurking around looking for an easy target would have no trouble at all picking him out, especially since he had, in fact, come alone, Simeon nowhere to be found.

He shouted out your name the second he spotted you. “Thank you, thank you! I was so worried! I don’t know what I’d do if someone saw me hanging out in a place like this!”

You swung the wrought-iron gate open just wide enough to let him onto the property and he slipped through. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay! Nothing is okay!”

As upset as he looked, he didn’t seem to be physically hurt at all. “What happened?”

“I can’t tell you out here. Can we go to your room? Please?” He tugged on your sleeve, trying to move you back towards the house.

“Um…” Somehow you assumed that telling him your room had been destroyed wouldn’t go over well. He was always making comments at RAD about not trusting the brothers and being worried about your safety; if he heard that Beel nearly crushed you in a snack-fueled tantrum you doubted even Diavolo would be able to stop him from storming the House of Lamentation and stealing you away.

“Please, MC, come on!” he whined.

You sighed, and with an internal apology to Beel, gave in. “Okay.”

Luke stayed close behind you on your way through the house, casting anxious glances down every hall as if one of the brothers were going to jump out and grab him. When you opened Beel’s door, he rushed in, only to stop in his tracks when he realized where he was.

“Why are we in Beelzebub’s room!?”

Beel, several bags of chips in hand, was so caught off guard he paused chewing for a second. “What is Luke doing here?”

“I asked first!” Luke said, then, to you, demanded, “Why aren’t we in your room?”

“It’s… being renovated,” you said, making pointed eye contact with Beel and hoping he would understand that you were trying to save him some trouble.

“Why?” Luke asked. “What was wrong with it?”

You blurted the first thing that came to mind. “There was mold.”

Luke’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Gross! I knew these demons couldn’t take proper care of a human. You need to come stay with me and Simeon!”

“They’re fine here,” Beel said. “We’re sharing a room for now.” He looked at you with… disapproval? It was something negative, at least, and it didn’t feel good. “It’s past curfew. We’re going to get in trouble if Lucifer finds out he’s here.”

“He won’t find out!” Luke cried before you could say anything. “I promise! I just need to stay here for a little while, please! Don’t make me go back!”

You held your hands out in a placating gesture while Beel went over to the couch and rooted around in his school bag. “It’s okay! It’s okay. Can you tell me what’s going on now?”

Luke waged an internal debate that seemed to be mostly centered around the fact that Beel was in the room. “It’s… it’s Simeon,” he admitted.

“Simeon?” you repeated, immediately worried about what could have happened. “Is he all right?”

“He’s fine! He’s better than fine, that’s the problem!”

You shared a puzzled look with Beel, who returned from the couch with a bottle of juice, which he offered to Luke.

Luke flinched away as if he had been presented with a severed head. “What’s that supposed to be? Some demon drink? It’s probably some creature’s blood!”

“It’s pomegranate juice,” Beel said flatly.

“Oh.” Luke took the bottle and gave it an experimental sniff, just to be sure. “Thank you… But why would you give this to me? You don’t share food. Are you trying to trick me?”

“I thought it might help you calm down. You need to be quiet.” Beel smiled slightly. “And you gave me some cake the other day.”

“I—oh, I guess I did. Even though you were only supposed to taste it, and you ate the whole thing!”

“It was good,” Beel said, completely unapologetic. “You’re good at baking.”

“It wasn’t that great, I’m still just learning.” Luke stared at the floor and fiddled with the bottle of juice in his hands, no doubt trying to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks at Beel’s compliment. “Not that I care what some demon thinks, anyway.”

You attempted to steer the conversation back on topic. “So what’s wrong with Simeon?”

“Oh! Right!” Luke snapped back into angry child mode and his explanation tumbled out in a rush. “This is all his fault! He’s getting way too friendly with everyone down here! We’re ANGELS, yet because of this ‘exchange program,’ we’ve been sent to the Devildom of all places—and we’re supposed to associate with demons! It’s unbelievable! Just the idea of speaking with one face-to-face is repulsive!”

Beel frowned but didn’t interrupt.

“If we go making friends with demons, what do you think is going to happen next, huh?” Luke continued. “I’ll tell you what: we’ll be corrupted! I’m always warning him about this, but he ignores me. Then he just leaves to have tea with Diavolo… He even told me to ask Barbatos if we could bake together sometime! Can you believe that? I know Barbatos is supposed to be good at it, but he’s a DEMON. Simeon won’t listen to a thing I say! I could disappear for all he cared! In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he thinks I’m annoying! Maybe he thinks of me like a dog, too—a stupid little dog that never shuts up!” His eyes shimmered with tears. “He would rather spend time with DEMONS than with me!”

“No, no it’s okay,” you assured him, resisting the urge to cup his face in your hands. “Simeon doesn’t think you’re annoying.”

“You’re just jealous,” Beel said.

“I am not! I would never be jealous! I’m just… worried about him. It’s not good for angels to spend so much time around demons!”

You wracked your brain for a way to spin Luke’s dilemma in a positive light. “You trust Simeon, don’t you?”

“Yes…”

“Is he a good angel?”

“Of course! He’s one of the best!”

“Then you have to believe he knows what he’s doing. Isn’t it good that he’s kind enough to give everyone a chance?”

Luke considered your point. “But what if these demons try to corrupt him?”

You glanced at Beel. “Do you want to corrupt Simeon?” Please, please say no. I don’t even care if you’re lying, just say no.

“Not really,” he said through a mouthful of chips.

“Do any of your brothers?”

He shrugged. “Probably not.”

“But you’re demons!” Luke insisted. “That’s what you do!”

“Is it?”

Luke opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again, something about the simple question apparently getting through to him. You took advantage of his momentary silence to press, “Simeon is probably worried that you’re gone. I’m sure he’ll come walk back with you if we call—,”

“No!” Luke cut you off with a startling amount of force. “I mean... I told Simeon our friendship was over, and then I stormed out, so I can’t go crawling back now, not after I did that.” He sniffled and rubbed his sleeve over his face, ensuring that any potential tears were wiped away. “Which is why I’m asking you to let me stay here for a while.”

“Even though you hate demons?” Beel pointed out.

“Well, what choice do I have?” Luke snapped. “This is the only place I could think of to go. It’s not like I want to be here, I just wanted to stay with MC…”

He fixed you with puppy-dog eyes pitiful enough to make you want to scoop him up into a big hug and pat his sweet little head. Beel just pursed his lips, waiting to hear what you had to say.

As much as you wanted to agree, you were in Beel’s room, so ultimately it was his choice. You told this to Luke and he grimaced, but the shame of returning to Simeon after his outburst apparently outweighed the shame of begging a demon for help.

“Please, Beelzebub? I swear I won’t be any trouble. I’ll even bake another cake for you, if you want!”

Beel’s eyebrows raised at the promise of cake. “...Fine. Just make sure Lucifer doesn’t find out, or you’ll get kicked out and we’ll all be in trouble.”

Luke bounced up and down. “Really? I can stay? Oh, thank you so much! Lucifer will never know I’m here, no way!”

“He will if you can’t keep quiet,” Beel muttered.

“Where should I sleep? MC and I can each take a bed, right?” Luke raced further into the room, all inhibitions cast aside now that he’d been given the OK to stick around.

Beel ripped open his last bag of chips. “No one’s sleeping in the purple bed.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because it’s my room, and I said no one’s sleeping there.”

You noted the marked difference in the way he responded to Luke’s questioning versus the way he had responded to yours. Not that you blamed him. You’d never called him ‘repulsive’ or treated him like a monster.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Luke pouted. “Sleep on the floor?”

“You could,” Beel said.

“No! Just because you call me a dog doesn’t mean you get to treat me like one! How about you sleep on the floor?”

Beel narrowed his eyes. A faint disturbance swept through the air, like a draft from an unseen window, and Luke shrank back.

“I… nevermind.” Luke shuffled closer to you and mumbled, “Can I, um… Would it be okay if I shared the bed with you?”

“Of course.” He was small enough and the bed was large enough that you doubted you’d even notice he was there.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “Oh, uh… I don’t have any pajamas.”

You looked to Beel, but he just stared back and kept crunching on the last of his chips.

“You can use some of mine,” you sighed.

Beel was mostly silent as the three of you finished getting ready for bed. Once everyone settled in and he turned out the lights, you called out a goodnight, and were relieved to hear him respond in kind. At least he wasn’t mad at you. You were surprised, actually, that he’d agreed to let Luke stay. Discovering the unexpected ways each of the brothers showed kindness amidst all their harsher traits was interesting. It definitely painted a more complex picture of demons than what you’d have imagined before.

Luke murmured his own goodnight to you, and drifted off within minutes. All bundled up in the covers, devoid of his Celestial Realm attire, he looked even more like a defenseless child than normal. Even though you knew, logically, he was far older and stronger than you, it was just hard to look at that face and see anything other than a kid who needed protection.

Until he started kicking in his sleep, hard, and you wished that maybe you had left the little shit standing outside after all.

Chapter Text

Beel woke early the next morning to go on a run before breakfast. He wasn’t terribly loud, but you had already been having trouble staying asleep thanks to the angel sharing your bed, so if the sounds of him getting ready didn’t wake you up, Luke’s incessant kicking would have. Once dressed, Beel grabbed a water bottle and slipped out the door, locking it behind him with a soft click.

You yawned and stretched out under the blankets. Maybe another half hour, and then you’d get up.

Beside you, Luke also stirred. “Mm… morning?” he mumbled, and you couldn’t tell if it was a greeting or a question.

“It’s still early,” you said. “We don’t have to get up yet.”

“Oh.” He pushed himself upright anyway and stretched his arms over his head, blinking away the sleep and shaking out his bedhead. “That’s okay! It’s good to get started early.”

You groaned and buried your face in the pillow. The level of enthusiasm in his voice was far too high for the time of day.

“I’ll get ready first! The bathroom is over here, right? Oh, but I don’t have a toothbrush. Do you have any extras?”

“Mmph,” you grumbled.

Undeterred by your lack of response, Luke kept chattering on while he ran around the room getting ready: Isn’t it weird that Beelzebub doesn’t want anyone to use the other bed, I think there’s going to be a quiz in my potions class today, what do you guys usually have for breakfast here, I can’t believe there was mold in your room, I wonder what Simeon is doing right now, hey I found some candy bars in this drawer, etc. etc. You quickly realized there was no chance of getting any more sleep now.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you said, and Luke, ever the guardian angel, assured you that he would keep Beelzebub out of the bathroom if he got back before you were finished. You highly doubted it would be an issue, but thanked him anyway.

Beel’s shower was the opposite of what you’d imagine Asmo’s to be. There was one bottle of 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner and one bottle of body wash, and that was it. You used both, assuming he wouldn’t mind. There were a few more products on the other end of the counter--another set of soap and shampoo in different scents, and some bath oils, but they were covered in a thin layer of dust. Belphegor’s, most likely.

You changed into your RAD uniform and stepped back into the bedroom, where Luke was busy examining a cluster of photographs hanging over Beel’s bed.

“There’s a picture from the Celestial Realm here!” he exclaimed.

“Really?”

“Yeah, look!”

You joined him at the bedside, curious about how there could be anything from the Celestial Realm here. From what little Mammon had said about it, you assumed the brothers hadn’t exactly been given the opportunity to pack their things and move out peacefully (also, how were there photographs if cameras hadn’t been invented yet? Maybe angels were way ahead of the times).

“This one, right here,” Luke said.

The photo in question showed Beel smiling, dressed in white, arms wrapped around two others--a dark haired boy and a laughing girl. Angelic outfits aside, the bright sunlight shining down around them marked it out as clearly not being in the Devildom.

“Is that Belphegor?” you asked. It was a little hard to tell from the small picture, but it looked like the boy and Beel had the same vividly colored eyes.

Luke nodded. “And…”

He seemed hesitant to speak, for once.

“And their sister?” you guessed.

He glanced at you, surprised, and you supposed it was surprising that even a single one of these demons had shared any details about their familial trauma to you, a random human.

“They told you about her?”

“Not much. Beel just mentioned that she passed away.”

Luke started to say something, then thought better of it and closed his mouth, lips pursed, and looked back to the photo. “Yeah. She passed away.”

The lock clicked then as Beel returned from his run and Luke jolted away from the bed, either startled by the sudden sound or guilty over being caught snooping. Maybe both.

“You should knock before you come in!” he said.

Beel stared at him like he was trying to figure out if he was serious or not. “It’s my room.”

“Well, right now it’s my room too!”

This argument earned nothing but a resigned sigh as Beel gathered the pieces of his uniform and headed towards the bathroom. “I have to take a quick shower. We can figure out what to do with you after.”

“What do you mean, ‘what to do with me?’” Luke cried, but the door was already shut and the sound of running water followed seconds later. “I’m not just some thing, you know!”

“He just means we have to figure out how to get you out of here without anyone noticing,” you said.

Luke crossed his arms and pouted at the floor. “But I don’t want to go back to Purgatory Hall yet…”

“You can’t stay here while everyone’s in class, though. Maybe you can come back after. I can ask if it’s okay for you to come over to study with me, that way you wouldn’t even have to hide.”

His eyes lit up. “And I wouldn’t have to stay in Beelzebub’s room! That’s perfect!”

“Right. So you can probably sneak out while we’re at breakfast, or else just wait for everyone to leave and then come out after us, and then I’ll invite you back after classes.”

“Could you actually bring me some breakfast?” Luke asked. “And then I’ll leave? I don’t want to start the day without eating anything, or I won’t be able to focus, and then—,”

You cut him off before he could go on a tangent. “I can bring you some food, yes.”

“Oh, thank you, that’s great! You’re so nice! I just don’t want any of that weird stuff demons like, okay? And nothing tomato flavored. And there are some cheeses I don’t like; it depends on what kind—,”

“I’m just going to bring you whatever I eat. It’s going to look suspicious if I hand pick a whole separate meal to pack up.”

Luke huffed but didn’t argue. Beel came out of the shower a few minutes later, and after you explained the plan (“I’m not giving him any of my breakfast.” “It’s okay, Beel, you don’t have to, I’ll give him some of mine.”) the two of you headed down to the dining room.

Nobody gave any indication that they knew you had an angel hiding in your room, which was a relief. You were sure that somehow Lucifer would have found out. It was a little thrilling, knowing you had successfully kept a secret from him (so far), but also a little terrifying, worrying about what would happen if he caught you.

You piled a little more food than normal onto your plate and picked around it throughout the meal. By the time everyone else was finishing up, there was enough left to give Luke a decent breakfast, without looking like you were doing anything more than saving some leftovers.

“Is that all you’re gonna eat?” Mammon asked, and all eyes at the table turned to you. Great. “You’re gonna be hungry again before lunch. Are you sick or something?”

“Yeah,” you said, “I just don’t feel great. It’s fine, though, I’m just going to save the rest and I’ll have it later.”

Asmo pointed a single pink-painted finger at you. “It’s homesickness, isn’t it? You must miss the human world. Even though you have me here to keep you company, I suppose it must be hard…”

“They’re probably homesick ‘cause they wanna get away from you and your pervert little hands,” Mammon said.

“They’re probably homesick because they’re tired of listening to you run your stupid mouth!”

You took the inevitable bickering as your cue to slip away, presumably to the kitchen to box up your leftovers, but actually back to Beel’s room to deliver them to Luke.

“Here’s your food,” you called as you stepped inside.

There was no answer.

“Luke?” You glanced around the room, but everything was still and quiet. “Luke, are you here?”

You pulled out your phone to see if maybe he’d sent you a text about leaving during breakfast after all. Nothing. A closer inspection of the room didn’t turn up any note or any clues as to where he had gone, either. Did he wander off to explore the house and lose track of time? Did he leave without bothering to tell you? Jesus, you hadn’t even been gone that long. How did Simeon handle this kid?

You sent a message to Beel to let him know what happened.

You: Luke is gone??? I don’t know where he went but he’s not in your room

It only took a few moments for him to open it. The little pencil icon appeared as he typed out a response.

Beel: Shit.

Chapter Text

Beel hurried back to you with the excuse that he’d forgotten a textbook, and both of you did another sweep of the room that managed to turn up Luke’s DDD, fallen partway under the bed, but nothing more.

“We can’t keep looking right now,” Beel said, stowing the phone in his jacket. “If we’re late to class, Lucifer will get on us about it, and then he’ll find out for sure.”

“We can see if he’s on campus when we get there. Maybe he just skipped breakfast and left early.”

Beel didn’t seem hopeful. “Maybe.”

Mammon was still there when you went back downstairs, waiting to walk together. He tried several times to start a conversation on the way but neither you nor Beel were in much of a mood to chat, too preoccupied with what trouble Luke could have possibly gotten into (and what trouble you would be in if you didn’t figure things out).

Unfortunately, Mammon was more observant than most people gave him credit for. “All right, what’s going on?” he asked, annoyed. “You two are acting weird.”

“No we’re not,” Beel said, which is exactly the wrong thing to say when someone accuses you of acting weird.

“Yeah you are! I went back to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water after breakfast and you weren’t there,” Mammon said to you, “and I saw your bag at the table, and you weren’t missing any books!” he continued to Beel. “So spill it!”

You and Beel exchanged a look. He failed to offer any convenient excuses, so you threw out the first thing that crossed your mind.

“We were making out.”

Beel’s eyebrows shot up and Mammon’s face went completely red in record time. You were pretty sure your own face sported a bit of color as well.

“You—what?” Mammon sputtered, looking incredulously back and forth between the two of you. When neither of you provided any further details, he rounded on Beel. “You better not be putting your mouth anywhere on my fucking human! Don’t even touch them!”

“Hey, whoa, Mammon!” You grabbed his shoulder and turned him away from his brother. “I was joking! We weren’t making out. I just thought it would be funny to say.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, gauging the truth of your words. “Yeah, well. Wasn’t very funny,” he grumbled after a few seconds.

Beel, on the other hand, had a slight smile on his face. “Your human?” he said.

Mammon looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I didn’t— I have a pact with them, don’t I? That’s all I meant.”

Beel just hummed in response.

The subject was thankfully dropped after that (along with all other attempts at conversation) and Mammon ran off immediately when you reached campus, leaving you and Beel with a moment to plan your search for Luke.

“Does he have any classes with you?” Beel asked.

“One, but Simeon is in it, too. Do you think he’d skip it if he’s still too embarrassed to talk to him?”

“He might. I know his second class today is in the same hall as mine, so I’ll watch for him then. And we can both keep an eye out in the cafeteria.”

You nodded. “Okay. I’m sure he’s here, he wouldn’t want to stay in the house anyway.”

If your optimism had any effect on Beel, he didn’t show it.

Your first class of the day rolled by without word from him and without any luck on your part. By the end of the second, you only had one message:

Beel: He wasn’t there

Neither of you saw him at lunch, either, and any last shreds of hope you had were lost when your final class started and his usual seat next to Simeon remained empty. You were in the middle of texting Beel the bad news when the older angel approached you after the final bell.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, all soft eyes and gentle smile, and you instantly felt ten times worse than you already did. “You’re looking after Luke, right? I hope he isn’t causing you too much trouble.”

“No, he’s fine, just kind of… hyper.” I’m lying to an angel I’m lying to an angel I’m lying to—

Simeon chuckled. “He can be a handful. I’m sorry you got caught up in this; I tried to stop him, but I’m afraid he was just too quick. I appreciate you letting him stay at the house while he calms down, though. Thank you.”

“Of course,” you said, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.”

“He’ll be ready to come back before long,” Simeon assured you. “He’s still young and immature as angels go, so this exchange hasn’t been easy for him. He tends to judge everything in life from the perspective of the Celestial Realm. It makes him honest and genuine, and gives him a strict set of values to adhere to, but it also makes situations like these difficult for him to handle.”

“It seems that way,” you agreed.

Simeon offered you a hand as the last few students in the room trickled out. You took it and rose from your seat, wondering if he could feel you burning with shame in the brief seconds of contact.

“Is anyone walking you home today?” he asked.

“Beel is.”

“I’ll see you to the entrance, then.”

He continued to reflect on Luke while you made your way back. “When the two of us were originally chosen for this program, Luke was very upset. He didn’t want anything to do with it. But personally, I thought studying in the Devildom would be a good opportunity for him. It’s a chance for him to expand his perspective.”

“Were a lot of angels against it?” you asked, genuinely curious. If Luke’s views were the norm in the Celestial Realm, you couldn’t imagine anyone there would have been enthusiastic about the idea of spending a year in hell.

“A fair amount. I can understand their concern. Demons are beyond redemption and angels are susceptible to corruption, and we work toward opposite goals as far as humans are concerned. It may seem pointless to attempt any sort of uneasy peace between us. But I don’t think things are ever quite so black and white, wouldn’t you agree?”

It was, perhaps, a rather bold statement to make to someone who had nearly been killed and eaten not even two weeks ago, but you did find yourself nodding in agreement. For as vividly as you recalled the pain and fear of a demon being exactly what Luke believed them to be, you also remembered how gingerly Mammon had tended to you after, the look of concern on his face as he did his best to gently bandage your wounds.

“Regardless, I’m sure this will be an interesting year,” Simeon concluded as you approached RAD’s main entrance. Beel was there waiting for you, and he quickly suppressed a worried look when he caught sight of the angel, probably fearing your secret had been blown.

“Yeah, for sure.” You gave Simeon your best attempt at a normal, non-anxious smile. “Thanks for walking with me.”

“Of course. And thank you again for taking care of Luke.” He inclined his head to Beel as well before heading off to Purgatory hall. “Good to see you, Beel.”

“Mhm.” Beel watched him leave, waiting until he was a safe distance away before turning to you and asking, “You didn’t tell him?”

“No… He was being so nice and he was so glad I was watching Luke, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.”

Beel patted your shoulder sympathetically. You startled a little at the touch, not used to receiving it from any of the brothers (aside from Asmo, who had no qualms about invading your personal space). It was gentle, though, and admittedly comforting. “It’s okay. If we still can’t find him, I’ll tell Simeon.”

You just sighed. As much of a relief as it would be to not be the bearer of bad news, you didn’t want to throw Beel under the bus, either. “Let’s just hope we find him.”

Once back at the House of Lamentation, the two of you split up to do a thorough sweep of each room, starting with the first floor. You poked into every nook and cranny, finding nothing but dust bunnies and spiders (and a few valuables it looked like Mammon must have stowed away and then lost), and then reconvened with Beel in the entryway before moving upstairs.

“It’s mostly just me and my brothers’ rooms up here,” he said.

You grimaced. Your options were growing slimmer by the minute. “Let’s just check where we can, then finish in your room to make sure he didn’t come back while we were out.”

“All right. I’ll take this side.” Beel set off to cover his half of the floor. “Good luck.”

“You too.”

Like he had said, searching upstairs was complicated by the fact that it was almost entirely bedrooms. If any of the brothers caught you wandering around it was guaranteed to end with a lot of questions, and you’d either get roped into doing something else or they’d find out what had happened and it would turn into a huge ordeal.

Thankfully, once the brothers holed up in their rooms, they tended to stay there. The only one you were concerned about was Mammon. He was always running off to do this or that. His room was on the opposite side of the house, though, so it was Beel’s problem for now.

You made your way through the floor fairly quickly, turning up nothing along the way. At this point, getting in trouble was hardly even a concern anymore. You were just worried for Luke. He clearly thought of himself as a tough angel, capable of defending himself, but you couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of horrors he might run into down here. All alone, there was no way he’d be able to put up a fight against something—or someone—that really wanted to hurt him. Even though you knew, logically, he wasn’t your responsibility, he had come to you for comfort and you had gone and lost him, so it felt like anything that followed from that point was your fault.

One of the brothers calling your name pulled you from your grim train of thought. You turned around, but the hallway was empty.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as a chill swept over you. There had to be a ghost in this house, there absolutely had to be. You’d ask Lucifer about it first thing after this fiasco got sorted out.

Thoroughly spooked, you started to head back to Beel’s room, only to feel the whisper of a hand grasp at your arm. You nearly shrieked as you jerked away from the invisible touch. It felt like someone was right there beside you, but when you looked there was—

...A staircase. A big fucking staircase that you could have sworn wasn’t there before. How had you missed that? You had walked right past it. You must have glossed over it somehow, maybe because your nerves were making you lose focus.

As much as you wanted to get the hell away from the ghost that was definitely hanging around there, it was one more place Luke could have gotten into, so you had to check it out. You took one step towards the spiral stairs and were instantly seized with the thought that you had somewhere else to be, somewhere important. It was enough to make you step back and almost enough to send you back to Beel’s room, because surely that’s what you were forgetting, there was something you really needed to tell him—but you shook yourself out of it. No, you needed to look for Luke. Nothing else mattered right now.

You sprinted up the staircase before anything else could psyche you out. A metal door, almost more of a gate, stood closed at the top. Your heart soared for a brief moment when you spotted a shape curled up under some blankets in the center of the room beyond, thinking you’d finally managed to find Luke, but a head of dark hair shifting into view dashed those hopes just seconds later.

And then the panic set in as you realized what that meant. If it wasn’t Luke in there… who was it?

You inched back towards the stairs. Clearly all the weirdness you’d just experienced had been for a reason, that reason being you were not supposed to be up here. Why had no one told you about this? Warned you? Did they even know about it? Had you stumbled upon some sort of entire ghost-room?

While you stood there having a minor meltdown, the maybe-ghost turned to face you. Shit. Too much panicking and not enough running away.

You both stared at each other, the tension-filled stare of two creatures sizing each other up, waiting to see what the other will do. Run? Attack?

The stranger’s mouth curled into a lazy smile.

“Finally.”

Chapter Text

The person in the room stood up, shedding layers of blankets to reveal a slender man who seemed to be more or less the same age as the brothers. He looked familiar, for some reason, though you were sure you’d never met him before.

“I knew you would find me.”

You took a step back as he rose to his feet and approached the door.

“It’s okay,” he said, “I’m not going to hurt you. I need your help.” He grasped the metal bars, staring at you with as much intensity as his sleepy expression could allow. At this closer distance, you noticed how vibrant a color his eyes were—deep purple flecked with pink.

Just like Beel’s.

It struck you, then, where you’d seen him before. He was in the picture from the Celestial Realm that Luke had pointed out this morning. He and Beel were younger in the photo, faces slightly softer, but with that shaggy, dark hair and those bright eyes, it had to be him. Plus, he had been sleeping when you found him, and the last brother was the Avatar of Sloth.

But why was he here? Everyone said he had been sent to the human world as an exchange student. Clearly something fishy was going on.

Belphegor, unaware of your revelation, continued with his plea. “I’m human, too. Lucifer trapped me up here ages ago and I can’t get out. You have to help me.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “...Aren’t you Belphegor?”

Whatever he was expecting you to say, it wasn’t that. His face went totally blank as he blinked at you, like his whole brain had to reboot to process the fact that you already knew who he was. Then he just looked disappointed.

“How did you know?”

“You and Beel have the same color eyes. He said you’re twins.”

Belphegor huffed out a humorless laugh. “Of course it was Beel.” He slumped against the door, faux-urgency gone now that you’d seen through his lie so quickly. “I was hoping it would take you longer to realize.”

“Why?”

He smirked. “I just wanted to tease you.”

Unease twisted in the pit of your stomach. Being near him gave you the same feeling you sometimes got when lesser demons eyed you at RAD. Still, he was one of the brothers, and for some reason he was sitting here locked in an attic when he was supposed to be in the human world. You couldn’t just run away without finding out what was going on.

“Why are you in there?” you asked.

“I was telling the truth about that part. Lucifer really did lock me up.”

“Why?”

“We had an argument.”

That followed what Mammon had said, but it still didn’t make sense. Even taking into account how liberally Lucifer liked to dole out punishments, locking his own brother away for an entire year and lying to the rest of his family about it seemed like too much for something as simple as a disagreement. “About what?”

“Does it matter?” Belphegor snapped. “The point is, I’m stuck here, and I need you to get me out.” His glare softened slightly. “Please.”

Something inside you (your sense of self-preservation, maybe) told you it would be a mistake to trust him. But you had been hesitant to trust the rest of the brothers when you first arrived, too, and things were turning out okay with them now that you had all gotten to know each other a little better. Belphegor was probably just snippy because he had been stuck here all alone. And Beel loved him and missed him so much--that had to say something positive about his character.

“Should I tell someone?” you asked, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He shook his head. “No. As much as I would love to see the looks on my brothers’ faces if they found out that Lucifer was keeping me up here, it wouldn’t end well. They’d get mad and confront him and it would turn into a huge fight, and since it has to do with the exchange program, Diavolo would get involved…” He sighed and looked away, back into the attic. “I just want to talk to Lucifer. If I could do that, he’d realize everything was just a misunderstanding.”

“Can’t you talk to him when he comes up to bring you food or something?”

Belphegor laughed once. “He hasn’t come to see me once since he locked me up. He uses imps to send all my meals.”

You filed away the imps thing to ask someone else about later. “So what am I supposed to do?”

He turned his gaze back to you. “You have a pact with Mammon,” he said, not as a question, but a statement of fact. When you nodded, he made a derisive noise. “Thought so. I can feel his magic on you. You probably had an easy time conning that idiot into a pact, but if you want to open this door, you’re going to need to make ones with the rest of my brothers, too.”

He had to be teasing you again. There was no way in hell any of them would agree to that, and regardless, you’d never be brave enough to ask them. Lucifer alone would probably kill you on the spot.

But Belphegor gave no indication that he was joking this time. When you didn’t respond right away, he explained further: “Lucifer set the spells keeping me in here, so it’s going to take everyone else’s power combined to undo them. If you can harness it through pacts with each of them, you should be able to get me out.”

You posed what seemed like an obvious question. “What if they don’t want to make pacts with me?”

“I’m sure they don’t, right now. But you’ll just have to get them to trust you. Beel probably already does, at least a little, if he told you about me. Start with him.”

You didn’t like the idea of using any of the brothers like that, even if it was for a good cause in the end. And what did you have to offer them, anyway? Sure, you wanted to help Belphegor, but not enough to give up your soul.

“You’re all the hope I have,” he said, as if sensing your hesitance. “I need you to do this for me, please.”

All you could think of when you met his pleading gaze was Beel, begging Lucifer to bring his little brother back. It would break his heart to know he was actually so close.

“...I can try,” you said.

Belphegor smiled. “Thank you. I know you—,”

Your DDD chimed from your pocket, cutting him off. The sudden sound reminded you that you had in fact been in the middle of something, and were supposed to be meeting back up with Beel to discuss how to handle the Luke situation.

“Sorry,” you said, pulling out the device to check your messages.

Beel: Where are you? I’m back in the room
Beel: Didn’t find him

“It’s okay,” Belphegor sighed. He turned and headed back to his nest of blankets, settling down with a yawn. “You should go. And remember: don’t tell anyone.”

You typed out a quick response to let Beel know you were on your way, and when you looked up, Belphegor was already asleep.

You let yourself stare for a moment, knowing that you’d just gotten yourself involved in something that was not only none of your business, but that also had the potential to end very badly. There was no time to think about it right now, though. Beel was waiting.

You spent the entire walk back to his room worrying about how you were going to manage keeping this a secret. Especially from Lucifer. You were honestly surprised he hadn’t caught you going up there to begin with. It was going to be difficult, for sure, but you’d just have to do your best to push it from your mind until you got all the pacts necessary to open the door.

If you got all the pacts. A very big if.

Beel was sitting on the side of his bed wringing his hands with a dejected expression when you walked in.

“I’ve been trying to think of how to tell Simeon,” he said.

You sat down next to him. YOUR BROTHER IS UPSTAIRS AND HAS BEEN THIS WHOLE TIME— “We should just tell him exactly what happened. Maybe he’ll know something we don’t that will help us find Luke.”

Beel nodded. “You’re probably right. Should we go now? It might—,”

This time, it was his DDD interrupting. Not with a text, but with a call. He looked at the caller ID—you saw Mammon’s picture—and visibly debated hanging up before deciding to answer.

“Get to the crypt, now!” Mammon said, loudly enough for you to hear, before Beel could even get out a “hello.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Luke’s down here, and Lucifer’s about to kill him!”

Beel glanced at you, eyes wide. “Be right there.” He hung up and was at the door in a second. “Come on!” he called over his shoulder.

You had to sprint to keep up with him. He led you back to the main floor, down a series of halls to a part of the house you had only briefly explored, stopping in front of a seemingly random wall and pressing one of the stones set into it. A hidden door clicked open and he stepped through it without explanation.

On the other side, a narrow stairwell spiraled down into darkness. The descent was not pleasant—the air was stale and musty and grew colder the farther you went, and the steps were uneven and hard to see in the dim light. Thankfully Beel waited for you to catch up at the bottom.

You passed through several small rooms before emerging into a cavernous space carved entirely from stone. It was almost reminiscent of a cathedral, one wide central aisle lined by pillared walls that rose to a vaulted ceiling, flickering torches spaced along the length. At the far end, what you could only assume was an altar sat amidst a sea of candles, and in front of it…

...was Luke.

And in front of him was Lucifer. A very, very angry Lucifer, if the flared wings and swirling black aura was anything to go by. Mammon, Asmo, Levi, and Satan were gathered as close as they dared, and you and Beel quickly ran to join them.

Luke cried out your name when he noticed you approaching. He looked terrified, backed against the altar and trembling. “I’m sorry! I—,”

“QUIET!” Lucifer shouted.

Mammon gave the two of you a helpless glance. “You gotta help us calm him down.”

“Why is he so upset?” you asked. Surely just finding Luke wandering in the house wasn’t enough to drive him to this state.

Beel answered for him, so softly you almost didn’t hear it. “That’s Lilith’s tomb.”

Lilith. That had to be the sister. You looked to the candle-covered stone at the end of the room again. A small sculpted figure stood on top, but other than that, it was an unassuming structure. You couldn’t blame Luke for not knowing what it was. It was probably the worst possible place in the entire house for Lucifer to find him, though—catching someone who openly hated you sneaking around the secret grave of your baby sister? It must have looked like Luke was up to no good, and you knew how sensitive a subject Lilith was just from the way Beel tiptoed around talking about her. It was no surprise Lucifer had flown into a rage.

“He just got lost!” you told Mammon. “He didn’t come down here on purpose.”

“Yeah, that’s what he keeps saying, but Lucifer ain’t listening. We don’t know how he even got into the house in the first place.”

“He was in my room,” Beel explained. “We lost track of him after breakfast.”

“Your room?" Lucifer turned away from Luke to pin Beel with a deadly glare. The black miasma surrounding him crept across the floor towards your feet in thick, snaking tendrils. “Beelzebub.”

Beel shrank back. The rest of his brothers edged away, out of the immediate radius of Lucifer’s anger. Luke took the opportunity to scurry away from the stone monument and take refuge behind them.

“You allowed him access to the house? To come here, to desecrate her tomb?”

“That’s not what I was doing!” Luke tried to interject. “I just—,”

Mammon slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut up! It doesn’t matter if that’s what you were doing or not.” He glanced at Satan, Asmo, and Levi. “One of you get Diavolo down here; he’s the only one who’s gonna be able to stop him at this point.”

Asmo nodded and quickly pulled out his DDD.

“You had better be prepared for the consequences,” Lucifer warned, advancing on the two of you. Beel tried to push you aside, but you held onto his arm, part of you rooted in place by fear and part of you not wanting to abandon him when he was clearly also afraid. He gave you a worried look and settled for stepping in front of you, a shield against his brother’s wrath.

Lucifer’s eyes flickered to you. They were glowing. “Out of the way, human.”

You clung fast to Beel. Lucifer cared too much about the exchange program to hurt you, right? If you stalled him for long enough, maybe Diavolo could get here and calm him down before anything bad happened.

“I said, out of the way.” Black mist pooled around your feet. It started to get a little hard to breathe.

“MC!” Mammon called. “Come on, get outta there!”

“I let Luke into the house,” you said. It came out as barely more than a whisper.

The smoldering glow behind Lucifer’s eyes flared. His hands, nails elongated into dark claws, clenched at his sides. “I’ll deal with you later,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Now unless you want to die, I suggest you move."

Your grip on Beel’s arm only tightened.

Several things happened next, so quickly you hardly had time to process what was going on. Shadows gathered around one of Lucifer’s hands as he raised it as if to strike. Mammon leaped towards you. Beel reached to grab Lucifer. You heard Lucifer snarl, “MOVE!” as he swiped through the air like he was knocking something aside.

A massive pressure struck your entire body, and everything went black.

Chapter Text

You figured you were probably dead.

It was a logical assumption, following the chain of events--a super powerful demon was pissed off, you got in his way, he hit you with some kind of magic blast, and now… Well. What exactly was happening now, you weren’t sure.

You were in a void, unable to feel your body in any specific way but still aware of a dull sense of pain. Every once in a while a muted sound reached you, maybe voices, but it was far too indistinct to make out. You had no sense of time.

Would someone come eventually to take your soul wherever it needed to go? An angel, hopefully, to escort you to the Celestial Realm? Or maybe that was too optimistic. You had a pact with a demon, now, after all. They probably had rules about that kind of thing up there. So… hell? You didn’t think you’d led an especially sinful life, but you were already there, more or less. Lucifer might have just grabbed your soul after he finished you off so he could toss it in a pit somewhere. Or eat it. Did demons eat the soul? They’d made it clear that they enjoyed eating the body, but never really clarified what they did with the rest.

What if one of the brothers had eaten it, or absorbed it or whatever, and that’s why you were just floating here? What if you didn’t have any soul left to go to heaven or hell, and this void was all there was for you? That almost seemed worse than being tortured for the rest of eternity. Slowly going mad, alone in the dark.

No, that was stupid. If they destroyed your soul, you’d just be gone. Wiped from existence. The fact that you were here, wherever here was, thinking and worrying and, well, existing, meant your soul must still be intact.

You sighed. Or tried to, at least. You still couldn’t feel your body.

Time continued to pass uneventfully. There was no way of telling how long you’d waited until you finally caught a glimpse of something from the corner of your eye. Just a little shimmer of light, but it stood out like a firework in the darkness.

After a few seconds, it appeared again in front of you, flickering gently before fading away. Then again, slightly larger. And again, and again, growing and lasting longer each time, until it didn’t fade at all. The light still wavered like a candle on the brink of going out, but it seemed to have stabilized, more or less, in the vague shape of a person.

Unsure if you could even communicate in this state, you waited for it to do something.

Help them... it murmured, barely more than a whisper yet echoing around you at the same time. ...help them…

It moved towards you. Part of it reached out, and warmth radiated through you, bringing the faintest tingles of sensation to your physical body.

Please…

The voice sounded like a young girl. A ghost, maybe? And now that you were more-or-less-dead in this liminal space, you could see her.

Please… she repeated. The feeling in your body intensified, like the wavering moment between sleeping and waking where you’re half aware of lying in bed but still inside a dream.

The ghost spoke again and her voice was layered with another, calling from outside the void. Her image began to fade. You tried to speak, to ask who she was, but couldn’t manage to make a sound.

The second voice spoke again, pulling you further into reality. “Wake up, please…”

The ghost disappeared.

You blinked your eyes open, slowly, wincing at the pain that the light sent stabbing through your head. You were lying down, nestled somewhere soft with a blanket covering you. A blurry shape filled most of your vision--based off the orange blob at the top, it was probably Beel. His outline solidified as your disorientation faded.

“MC?” he said, hopefully.

You groaned. Now that you could feel your body, everything hurt.

Beel reached out, but hesitated, one hand hovering near you like he wanted to offer comfort but wasn’t sure how. He ended up just dropping the hand back into his lap. “You’ve been asleep since yesterday. I wasn’t sure you would wake up… Do you remember what happened?”

“Lucifer hit me,” you croaked out.

Beel nodded. “If Lord Diavolo hadn’t shown up right away, you probably would have died. He managed to stop Lucifer, and then we got Simeon to come help you.”

You’d have to thank them when you got the chance. And speaking of Simeon… you didn’t see his companion anywhere.

“Is Luke okay?” you asked.

“He’s fine. Simeon took him back to Purgatory Hall.”

Well, that was a relief. “Are you okay?”

Beel almost looked frustrated at the question. “You shouldn’t be worried about that right now. You’re still hurt.”

You started to say, “I’m fine,” but the words stuck in your throat and threw you into a coughing fit that sent waves of pain coursing through your entire body. Beel grabbed a glass of water off the bedside table and held it gently to your mouth. Raising an arm to take it yourself felt like lifting a hundred pounds, so you ignored the somewhat embarrassed, helpless feeling and let him do it.

When the coughing subsided, you could only lay there for a minute and breathe through the pain. You felt like one giant bruise.

“I’m sorry,” Beel said. “This is my fault.”

“No it’s not,” you argued, but he just shook his head.

“It is. It’s my fault Luke was in the house to begin with. Then I didn’t find him when he got lost, then I couldn’t stop Lucifer. You were standing right next to me and I couldn’t even do anything.”

You didn’t have the energy to explain how none of that changed the fact that it was you who chose to remain in the path of a raging demon and Lucifer who chose to attack you, so you just repeated, “It’s not your fault.”

Beel huffed a sigh, staring down at his hands. He had clearly been beating himself up about this for however long you had been unconscious. “Why didn’t you run away?” he asked. “Did you think Lucifer wouldn’t hurt you just because you’re part of the exchange program?”

You had hoped Lucifer wouldn’t hurt you for that reason, yes, but truthfully that was only part of it. “Yeah, but I didn’t want to leave you by yourself, either.”

“Why?” Beel pressed. “Even if he hurt me, I would have healed faster than you. You were just putting yourself in danger.”

The thought of speaking more than one clipped sentence at a time made your chest ache (more than it was already aching), so you shrugged and boiled your answer down to its most basic point: “I like you.”

“You--oh.” Beel looked a little surprised, but then he smiled. “I like you, too.”

I like you, too. Said as if you were preschoolers on the playground and not an ageless demon and the hapless mortal living in his house. Coming from any of his brothers, you would have found it suspicious. And maybe it was stupid of you to trust him as if he were any different—he was still a demon, and you hadn’t even known him for very long. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to doubt that soft expression on his face, as if the simple fact that you liked him had made his whole day.

“Can you walk?” he asked suddenly.

“Um.” Technically, yes, your legs seemed to be functional, but judging from the strain that just laying there and talking was putting on you, you had to assume walking would be, at the very least, really goddamn painful. “Maybe,” you said. “Why?”

Beel shifted in his seat. “I want to tell you something, but I don’t want Mammon to interrupt. He’s been in and out of here all day to check on you.”

You grinned. Mammon the sweetheart. Hearing that he was worried did admittedly make you feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. You’d have to be sure to tease him about it later.

Focusing on the actual task at hand, though—what could Beel possibly need to tell you that had him nervous about someone overhearing? It was uncharacteristically serious of him.

“Let me try to get up,” you said.

Your attempt was painfully slow—emphasis on painfully—but eventually you were able to struggle to your feet, leaning on Beel for some support. Everything was just extraordinarily sore, like you’d spent the entire previous day doing nonstop full-body workouts. It was probably a fraction of the pain you’d be in if Simeon hadn’t healed the worst of your injuries, though, and it was better than being dead, so you couldn’t complain too much.

Beel helped you shuffle out of his room and down to the first floor, careful to avoid his brothers along the way. He stopped in front of a wall near the main entrance. After glancing side to side, much like Levi did before allowing you into his room, he pressed his fingertips to a decorative pattern on the trim and murmured a few words in a language you didn’t understand. A soft glow spread across the surface, creeping up his arm and surrounding his body and then yours, filling your vision with white. When it faded, the two of you were standing in a different room.

The space stood in stark contrast to the rest of the house--pastel walls, light furniture. Less like a vampire’s mansion and more like a princess’s castle. You pulled in a sharp breath at the sight of sunlight streaming through the windows.

“This is Lilith’s room, from the Celestial Realm,” Beel explained. “Lucifer made it not long after we moved in. I don’t think he meant for the rest of us to find it, but we all did eventually.”

You were still fixated on the scenery outside, even more so now that you knew it was the Celestial Realm. Illusion or not, how many humans got the chance to see something like that? Well, how many living humans, at least.

“Do you want to look?” he asked. At your nod, he led you up to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and pushed the delicate curtains aside to reveal the view.

It was like something out of a fairy tale. Glittering towers, waterfalls and streams winding through rolling green hills, snow-capped mountains in the distance rising to touch the clouds in a perfectly blue sky. There was even a rainbow. It almost bordered on tacky, like something you’d see on a poster in a little girl’s bedroom, but just knowing it was real made it infinitely more beautiful.

“Is that really what it looks like?”

“Mm.”

Beel had a faraway look in his eyes. Remembering a different life a long time ago, you were sure. You wondered if any of the memories were pleasant.

You also wondered why he had suddenly decided to show this to you now. Was it his way of apologizing? His sister was clearly a sensitive subject very close to his heart, so allowing you to see her old room probably meant a lot to him.

He usually expressed his thoughts in his own time, so you just let him have the silence while you soaked in the illusory sunlight.

After several minutes, he spoke. “I was thinking about what I could do for you, to make up for you getting hurt. At first I thought maybe I could take you out to eat somewhere nice, but…” He glanced down, almost embarrassed at the idea. “That didn’t seem like enough. If you were willing to risk your life, I should do something just as important in return.”

“You don’t have to—,” you started, but he cut you off.

“Yes, I do. I didn’t protect you this time, but I can make sure I do next time.” He held out a hand with a determined expression. “I’ll make a pact with you.”

You blinked at his outstretched hand. After the ordeal with Mammon, you’d gotten the impression that no demon would ever want to enter into a pact willingly. Especially not any of the brothers.

“You don’t have to do that,” you repeated, trying to reject the offer as gently as possible.

“I want to,” he said.

“I don’t have anything to give you.”

He shook his head. “I told you, it’s for what happened. I want to do it.”

It looked like you didn’t really have much of an option. He did seem genuinely upset by what had happened, and in all the time since you’d arrived in the Devildom he’d never been deceitful or tried to hurt you (intentionally, at least), so you supposed you could trust him on this. He wasn’t even asking for your soul, after all.

And of course you remembered Belphegor’s plea. If you were seriously going to try to make pacts with all of the brothers, it would be stupid to turn one down when it was being handed to you on a silver platter.

Mind made up, you took his hand. His fingers closed around yours, firmly enough that you startled a little.

“I need you to promise me something first,” he said. His face held none of the kindness from moments before—this was Beelzebub, lord of hell. “Promise me you’ll never use it against my brothers.”

It was an easy condition to agree to. You had no interest in politics or power or anything else there might be to gain from doing something like using him as a weapon against his own family. Just the thought made your stomach churn. If he wanted to give you such a valuable gift, your only goal was to prove to him that he wasn’t wrong to trust you with it.

“I promise,” you said.

Just like that, scary Beel disappeared and soft Beel was back. “Good,” he smiled.

Light shone briefly from the point where your hands touched, and warmth flooded your body. It felt different than it had with Mammon. Less like electricity and more like… coming inside after being out in the cold.

Beel let go of your hand and his eyes roamed your body, stopping midway down your torso as if he’d found something he was looking for. “Can I see it?” he asked.

You were suddenly very confused about what was happening. “See what?”

“The mark.” At your blank look, he elaborated, “The pact mark.”

The what now? No one had mentioned anything like that. “It leaves a mark?”

Beel’s brows knit together in confusion mirroring your own. “Have you not seen Mammon’s?”

“No!” You’d been walking around this whole time with some kind of demonic tattoo, and nobody had thought to tell you? And now you had two?

“It’s on your back.” Beel reached out and nudged you to turn around, which you did, allowing him to poke a spot between your shoulder blades where you’d apparently been marked by the Avatar of Greed. No wonder you’d missed it—you didn’t exactly have a habit of examining your naked back in the mirror.

“How did you know it was there?” you asked, turning to face him again. And has literally everyone else known this entire time, too?

“It has his magic,” Beel said, like it was that simple. You supposed it probably was, to him.

You glanced down at the area he’d been staring at. “And yours is…?”

He placed a gentle touch just below your sternum, slightly above your stomach. “Right here.”

It was a bit of an awkward spot to see without a mirror, but you lifted your shirt enough to uncover it and tried to get a look.

The lines were black, twisted into an intricate symbol and encircled with what you assumed was demonic lettering. Beel hummed at the sight of it. He reached towards you again, but hesitated a few inches from your skin, eyes searching yours for permission.

“...You can touch it,” you said, far quieter than you meant to. The situation felt strangely intimate all of a sudden.

The mark shimmered red when his fingertips traced across it. That sensation you were starting to become accustomed to, the one that happened whenever you invoked the pacts, tingled up your spine, and if your heart fluttered a little at his touch, well. That had to be part of the pact, too.

Beel smiled as you pulled your shirt back down. “You can call for me now, if you’re in trouble.”

“I think Mammon would be pretty upset if I called for anyone but him,” you joked, trying to dispel the lingering romantic tension in the air.

Beel snorted. “We should probably get back to the room. He’ll freak out if he sees you’re gone.” Without warning, he scooped you up in a bridal carry as effortlessly as if you were made of paper, ignoring your surprised squeal. “I shouldn’t have made you get out of bed. I’ll carry you back.”

“I can walk—,”

“You need to rest.”

He looked down at you with that expression—that stupidly fucking sweet, soft expression that no demon had any business putting on their face—and you decided not to argue.

******

That night was your last sleeping in Beel’s room, and a loud THUMP woke you some hours after both of you had drifted off. You shot up in bed, assuming something terrible and dangerous was happening, like a home invasion or an earthquake, but then Beel groaned and in the dim light from the glowing decorations on the wall you saw him picking himself up off the floor.

“Beel?” you called.

“It’s okay. I just fell off the couch.”

You held back a sigh. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep on the bed?”

“I’m fine.”

His insistence did little to ease your guilt, but at least this was the last night you’d have to inconvenience him. You rolled back over and settled in.

A few seconds later, Beel sniffled. It sounded like he was trying to hide it, so you pretended not to hear. But then he did it again, and the mental image of Beel crying was simply too much to ignore.

“Are you okay?” you asked, quietly, as if that would make the question less intrusive.

“Mm-hm.”

You frowned. Obviously he wasn’t. If he didn’t want to talk, though, he didn’t want to talk. But you’d be damned if you let him spend the rest of the night falling on the floor.

“If you really don’t want me to sleep on the couch, I don’t mind sharing the bed,” you told him. When he didn’t respond right away, you added, “Please?”

Another few moments passed in silence before he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Of course. It’s big enough for two people.”

He didn’t move for so long that you thought he’d just decided to ignore you and gone back to sleep, but after a few minutes he gathered up his blanket and pillow and padded over to the bed. He paused again before finally pulling the sheets back and climbing in next to you.

The mattress dipped under his weight and you immediately felt the warmth radiating from his body, despite the fact that he was careful to put a fair amount of distance between you. His stomach rumbled audibly, and you had the realization that maybe him camping on the couch had been partially for your own safety. You hadn’t been thinking about it when you offered to share the bed, but now that he was so close, within arm’s reach, you started to worry about what might happen if he got hungry in his sleep.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” he murmured, and he sounded so pitiful that you couldn’t even bring yourself to keep worrying about being eaten.

“It’s okay.”

“...I get nightmares, sometimes.”

“Oh.” You hesitated, caught off guard at the sudden confession. “About what?”

He toyed with the edge of the blanket. “Different things. About Lilith, a lot… When she died.” It felt like he had to work his way up to getting the sentences out.

“You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to,” you quickly interjected.

“It’s okay. I don’t really talk about it to anyone. I don’t want to upset them. But… I think maybe it would help if I got it out, a little bit. If that’s okay.” He glanced at you, waiting to continue.

Obviously you said yes. Not that you were eager to hear about the death of his sister, but he looked like he’d break if you pushed him away at such a vulnerable moment.

He took a minute to think about what exactly he wanted to say. “We used to be angels,” he started. You knew this already, thanks to Mammon, but just nodded and let him continue. “There was a war when we left. When we fell. I was with Belphie and Lilith. She wasn’t supposed to be fighting, but she did anyway. I saw someone aiming at her, and at Belphie, but I couldn’t get to both of them in time. So they hit her. And she died.”

“Beel…” You hardly knew how to respond. What a horrible memory to have to live with—beyond horrible. The guilt of something like that on top of the trauma of a war. Plus falling from grace as an angel? You couldn’t begin to guess what kind of torture that might have been. “I’m so sorry.”

No wonder he beat himself up over you getting hurt. He’d carried this with him for centuries, and God knows his emotionally constipated brothers probably hadn’t helped him deal with it in any healthy way, and then you’d gone and almost died right under his nose. It had to have brought on some unpleasant flashbacks.

“I know it wasn’t my fault, but… it feels like it was. Like I should have been able to figure something out, or done something differently.”

“It sounds like you did everything you could.”

“That’s what everyone says, but… I just feel like I failed. I think Belphie feels the same way, even though he’d never say it. He wanted me to save her instead.”

You blinked back the tears that prickled in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you said again. “No one should have to make a choice like that.”

Beel took a long, slow breath. “Yeah.”

He didn’t say anything else, and you thought that was the end of it. You were just starting to drift off when he spoke up again, so softly you almost missed it.

“Can I hold your hand?”

You rolled over to face him. His expression was barely visible in the low light—he looked sad. Just deeply, painfully sad. He avoided your eyes, as if embarrassed by his own request, or afraid of what you might say in response. In that moment he felt much smaller.

“Of course.” You withdrew a hand from under the blankets and laid it between the two of you. He took it gingerly and you gave him a small, reassuring squeeze.

“Thanks.”

You smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile, necessarily, but at the very least you were touched that Beel felt comfortable enough to be so vulnerable with you. Maybe your destroyed bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. “Good night,” you said.

He smiled back. “Good night.”

Chapter Text

Beel was a cuddler.

You learned this when you woke up the next morning to find that he had taken hold of considerably more than your hand while you slept—your entire body, in fact. If you turned around, you would be spooning, but as it was your face was pressed to his chest with one of his arms securely wrapped around your shoulders, your legs intertwined.

It was… a little sweaty, to be honest. But aside from that you were admittedly very cozy. Beel’s larger frame completely surrounded yours, and it came as somewhat of a surprise that instead of being worried about him snapping you in half, you felt comfortable in his embrace. You actually kind of hoped his early morning alarm wouldn’t go off, so you could stay like this for a while longer.

…Shit. That was not a “no crushes” kind of thought. It was actually very much a “yes crushes” kind of thought.

You contemplated this for maybe ten seconds before deciding, “ah, fuck it,” and giving in to the snuggle. What would it hurt to indulge your budding infatuation? (A lot, maybe, but you weren’t going to think about that right now). And Beel was the one who’d grabbed onto you, after all; if you needed an excuse then you were just a helpless human caught in his iron grip.

Sure. That was it.

It’s not like you expected him to reciprocate, or for any of the others to if you ended up crushing on them. Okay, slow down, one demon at a time. Any feelings that happened to develop would be your unfortunate little secret. A year of unrequited affection wouldn’t kill you.

You drifted off again after a while, head pillowed by Beel’s frankly ridiculous pecs. It only lasted another half hour or so before his alarm blared from the bedside table.

He pulled away just enough to blindly sweep a hand around behind him until he found his DDD and turned it off, then returned to cuddling you. He breathed in deeply, face nuzzling into your hair, and a pleased sound rumbled in his chest as he squeezed you a little tighter. The moment was short lived, though. The second he woke up enough to realize the position you were in, his whole body tensed.

“Good morning,” you murmured. Better to just let him know you were already awake so he didn’t have to worry about trying to sneak out of bed.

Beel released you gently from his grasp and put some space between your bodies. “Sorry,” he said, blush dusting his cheeks. “I didn’t, uh…”

“It’s okay.”

He looked uncertainly at you. “I’m just used to sleeping with Belphie. He’s really clingy, so…”

“Beel, it’s okay,” you repeated. “I don’t mind.” You could feel the heat in your face and knew it was probably as red as his. “It was nice.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, glancing down at the bedsheets. “Good. I slept well, so. Thank you.”

“I slept well, too.”

The two of you laid in silence for several seconds, both shyly avoiding eye contact as if you’d just confessed your love for each other rather than just waking up too close together.

“I’m going to go for my run,” Beel said, and slipped out of bed to change out of his pajamas. You made a vaguely affirmative noise and settled back into the pillow, hoping to catch a few more minutes of sleep before your own alarm went off.

When the shrill tone dragged you back to consciousness for the final time that morning, Beel was back from his run and in the middle of showering, so you busied yourself laying out your uniform and making sure your bag was packed for the day’s classes. He emerged from the bathroom before long, shirtless and steaming like the cover of a romance novel come to life.

Once you were both cleaned up, dressed, and ready for breakfast (you took significantly longer than Beel, seeing as your entire body still ached like a motherfucker, but he stuck around to make sure you were okay), you headed to the dining room. Everyone was already at the table, and all eyes turned to you as you walked in.

“MC!” Asmo cried. “Oh, I was so worried! I thought you’d be covered in nasty bruises, but Simeon fixed you up so well!”

“Thanks,” you replied flatly. He didn’t seem to notice the withering look you sent his way.

You took your usual seat between Mammon and Satan and picked a few things from the plates in front of you, fully aware of the way Mammon was trying not to be obvious about glancing at you.

“Good morning,” you said to him.

“Morning,” he mumbled back.

On your other side, Satan rolled his eyes. “He’s been pouting since yesterday, when Beel let us know about your new pact.”

“I’m not pouting!” Mammon immediately protested. “Why would I care who they make pacts with?”

Satan continued as if he hadn’t heard anything. “Very interesting that you’ve secured a second one so soon after the first. And with another of us, no less.”

You squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze. “It just happened.”

“Pacts with the most powerful demons in existence don’t ‘just happen.’” He kept staring, not in an outright threatening way, but in a way that definitely didn’t feel comfortable, until finally turning his attention back to the book he had open over his breakfast. “But I suppose I can see Beel’s reason for doing it.”

“It’s so romantic!” Asmo said, earning a snort from both Mammon and Levi. “You risk your life for him and he pledges his to you? Ah! It’s like a fairy tale!”

“It was stupid,” Levi disagreed. “I don’t know what you were thinking, MC. That was like a level one character facing the final boss.”

“We’re not discussing this at the table,” Lucifer said.

“Why, because it’s such a blow to your pride knowing that your lapse of control almost ruined the entire exchange program?” Satan sniped.

Lucifer glared at him. “We are not. Discussing it.”

Satan huffed but didn’t provoke him further.

You managed to eat in peace for a few minutes, until Mammon leaned into your space to grab one of the plates on your other side, lingering for a little too long before drawing back with an annoyed look.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” you said, elbowing him a little.

“You smell like Beel,” he grumbled. “S’gross.”

This statement unfortunately drew Asmo’s attention, his eyes sparkling with entirely too much interest to mean anything good for you. “Oh? Did the two of you consummate your pact that old fashioned way?”

“No!” you were quick to respond, while Mammon practically choked and Levi went a distressed shade of red.

“Well, you were sharing a room,” Asmo insisted. “Did you get to know each other well while you were staying over?”

“I was just using his bed,” you said, face warming at both his insinuation and at the fact you apparently smelled, while at the same time Beel--presumably too focused on breakfast to catch the innuendo--answered, “Yeah. It was nice.”

Asmo practically squealed. “MC, you devious little creature! You’ll have to tell me all about it! Maybe you can stay in my room next, I would love to get to know you too.”

“No fucking way,” Mammon snapped. You glanced over to see him glaring daggers at his younger brother. It didn’t quite have the desired effect, only seeming to egg Asmo on.

“Don’t be so possessive, Mammon. Jealousy is unattractive.”

“I’m not jealous!”

Levi made a derisive sound.

“You got something to say, Levi?”

“Yeah. You’re a stupid, jealous tsundere.”

“And you’re a slimy little freak!”

“Both of you, stop it,” Lucifer all but growled into his cup of coffee. “If you’re going to act like children at least wait until after breakfast.”

“Asmo started it! Why don’t you tell him not to be such a perv!” Mammon complained.

“I am not a pervert!”

“You were just trying to get MC to sleep with you!”

“I just said I want to get to know them! Sounds like you’re the pervert if you thought I meant something else!”

“Gimme a break, everyone knows you fuck anything that moves!”

A sudden wave of energy swept across the table, silencing both Asmo and Mammon and sending an uncomfortable chill down your spine. It wasn’t hard to guess where it came from.

“I said, stop it.”

Thanks to that, the rest of breakfast passed without anyone else hassling you, and you gathered your stuff to head out a little early since you’d be walking slower than usual (why the hell you were even going to class today, you’d love to know).

Lucifer called your name as you stood to leave, however, rising from his own seat with his folder of the day’s paperwork in hand.

“A word, please, before you go. In the music room.”

The rest of the brothers exchanged glances—some nervous (Mammon and Beel), some curious (Satan, Asmo, and Levi).

“Okay,” you said.

You let Lucifer lead the way. In the best case scenario, he was planning on apologizing. And hopefully giving you some kind of incredible gift to go along with it, like a magic ring that would electrocute him if he ever tried to touch you again. Worst case, he had found a way to punish you for his own fuck up. Honestly, the latter seemed more likely.

Neither of you spoke until you reached the privacy of the music room.

“I assume you know what I want to talk to you about,” Lucifer said.

Gee, I wonder. “Yeah.”

A degree of discomfort showed through his impassive expression, though he quickly masked it. “...What I did to you was inexcusable. I apologize.”

Okay, fine, you thought. It was the bare minimum, but it was something. You were prepared to say thank you and leave it at that.

But he didn’t stop there.

“However,” Lucifer continued, “there’s one thing I want to make absolutely clear. As long as they consent to it, I have no problem with you making pacts with my brothers. But you need to mind your place. Behave yourself, get through the year, and we’ll return you to the human world. That’s all you need to worry about.”

As if realizing he had strayed from the point, he circled back to his half-assed apology. “Still, the fact remains that I put you through a frightening experience. Sometime in the near future, I’d like to treat you to a meal out somewhere to make it up to you.” He needlessly straightened the papers in his hand and turned towards the door. “That’s all I had to say. You’re free to go.”

You just stared at him, baffled. Maybe it was your fault for expecting more from a demon, but even Beel, the literal physical embodiment of gluttony, had been able to reach the conclusion that free food wasn’t adequate compensation for a near-death experience. And he wasn’t even the one who almost killed you.

Lucifer stared back, daring you to say something.

Satisfying as it would be to tell him where he could stick that meal, you knew better than to pick a fight, and simply offered him a flat, “Thanks,” before walking out.

To your surprise, everyone else was waiting for you at the front door.

“You made it out alive,” Mammon teased, though the joke didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You made a mental note to talk to him later. Satan had said was just pouting but whatever was bothering him seemed more significant than that.

Asmo sighed. “That’s boring. I was hoping there’d be drama.”

“He would never do anything to them while he’s in his right mind,” Satan said, pushing the door open for your group. “Hindering the exchange program would reflect badly on Diavolo, and hell forbid he tarnish Diavolo’s reputation.”

The conversation continued as you all made your way to campus.

“What did he say, though?” Levi asked. “Give us the deets.”

“Don’t say ‘deets,’” Mammon said.

“It was just a crappy apology, and then he told me to mind my business.” You kicked at a pebble in your path. “He said he’d buy me dinner.”

“You’re lucky you got an apology at all,” Satan said. “I’m sure Diavolo forced him to do it. Pompous asshole never apologizes for anything, even when it’s clearly his fault.”

You suddenly felt a warm weight on your head, and looked up to see Beel holding his hand there. Not patting you at all, just… holding. He gave you a reassuring smile and you couldn’t help but smile a little in return. (Mammon swatted him away with an irritated, “what are doing,” after a few seconds.)

“I’m sure he feels bad,” Beel said. “He just has a hard time showing it.”

Satan scoffed. “You give him too much credit.”

“I’ll tell you what you need to do,” Mammon said, and you were happy to see a little spark in his eyes. “Take him up on that dinner, and rack up the biggest bill you can manage. Clean his ass out.”

Asmo and Levi rolled their eyes, but Satan actually grinned.

“Oh, yes,” he agreed. “And get a picture of his face when he sees the total.”

“And bring the leftovers home for me,” Beel added.

You laughed. Was it kind of fucked up to be chatting so casually about dinner with a man who’d literally almost killed you? Probably. But this was hell and they were demons and everything that happened here was so far outside the realm of things you knew how to deal with, so you just took your cues from everyone else and played your near death off like a minor scare and hoped the inevitable trauma wouldn’t catch up to you too quickly. And being petty over a meal was nowhere near adequate revenge for attempted murder, but hey.

You’d take what you could get.

Chapter Text

Two weeks after the dust had settled from your near-death experience at the hands of Lucifer, you found yourself in the gilded halls of the Demon Lord’s castle. Diavolo thought a slumber party group retreat would help bring the exchange students and your demonic hosts closer, while simultaneously serving as an opportunity to learn about Devildom culture and history, so you and the brothers, along with Solomon and the angels, packed up your overnight bags and prepared for a weekend of team-building activities.

It was going about how you’d expect.

Lucifer forced everyone out of bed and out of the house earlier than necessary because he couldn’t bear the thought of not being the first to arrive. Mammon caused a ruckus over the room assignments. Levi grumbled and complained nearly nonstop about being torn away from his otaku cave. Asmo wouldn’t get off his phone. Satan and Solomon kept engaging in hushed conversation that involved a few too many suspicious glances in Lucifer’s direction to imply anything good.

You, for your part, were at least trying to stay engaged. Barbatos was currently leading your group on a tour of the castle and its collection of art and artifacts. The very large castle, and its very large collection of art and artifacts. He did make an excellent tour guide, able to recount the stories and histories behind a museum’s worth of art and magical items with no apparent effort, and he made sure to steer clear of the more… intensely demonic pieces that might have threatened your delicate human psyche. You were genuinely interested in the information he was sharing. But even something interesting starts to drag after long enough, and you had passed “long enough” about forty minutes ago.

Beside you, Mammon heaved a sigh. Lucifer shot him a look, but even he seemed to be ready for the tour to end, albeit less due to boredom and more due to the strain of managing all his brothers and Diavolo’s high energy at the same time.

“Barbatos?” Beel eventually asked. “When’s lunch?”

If Barbatos was annoyed at all by the interruption, it was impossible to tell. “Lunch will be served shortly,” he answered with the same perfectly neutral expression and tone he always kept, and then continued on his spiel about the nearest piece of art. Beel did not seem reassured.

Your group made its way through several more halls and was finally starting to loop back towards one of the main rooms of the castle when you came to a large landscape painting. It showed a lake surrounded by grassy hills, sunlight glittering on the water’s surface.

“Oh!” Luke gasped. He had spent the day so far looking alternately bored and upset by the demonic items on display, but now a bright smile lit his face. “That’s the Celestial Realm!”

Diavolo smiled as well. “It is! This was actually painted around the time I first met Lucifer.” He turned a fond gaze from the canvas to Lucifer, who stared back with significantly less warmth.

“Let’s not bring that up.”

“The first time I met him,” Diavolo began anyway, “he was so beautiful, it took my breath away. He was awe-inspiring. I couldn’t believe such a being existed. I’d heard stories, obviously, of the most radiant angel to ever grace the skies, but seeing him firsthand was more than I could have imagined.”

The entire time he spoke, he maintained unbroken eye contact with Lucifer. You had to wonder whether this was a very committed attempt at teasing or if Diavolo was genuinely so infatuated with his second-in-command, but just a glance at the rest of the brothers’ faces gave you your answer. Mammon, Satan, and Levi all appeared to be seconds away from gagging, and Asmo was paying more attention than he had to anything since you’d arrived at the castle. (Beel mostly just looked impatient.)

“He refused to even shake my hand,” Diavolo reminisced, still smiling.

Lucifer raised a brow. “Are you finished?”

“Almost. The first time we had dinner…”

As Diavolo launched into another starry-eyed recollection, Mammon wandered through the rest of the room to take a closer look at some of the treasures on his own. Asmo was soon to follow, snapping photos as he went. You glanced at Barbatos to see if he was going to say anything. He stayed silent, but watched the two (mostly Mammon) carefully.

That seemed like permission enough to join them. You ambled over to Mammon, who was inspecting a small vase in great detail, eyes narrowed as he circled around to see every side.

“It’s pretty,” you said.

“Mm-hm.” He fidgeted with the rings on both his hands absentmindedly. “Worth a lot, too.”

“I’m sure everything down here is worth a lot.”

Mammon turned away from the vase with an exasperated sound. “Yeah. I’m about losing my mind. If we don’t wrap this up soon, no one can blame me for taking something.”

“We’ve got to be close to finishing,” you said, for your own reassurance as much as his. “I don’t think Beel can last much longer, either.”

“Surprised he hasn’t started gnawing on the art.” Mammon shoved his hands in his pockets and walked over to join Asmo in front of a gold-framed portrait. A woman with long, dark hair and bright eyes stared out from the canvas with an alluring expression.

“She looks familiar,” Asmo remarked, head tilted in thought.

“Half the witches you hook up with look like that,” Mammon said.

Asmo stepped closer to the painting. “Yes, but something about her in particular I feel like I remember… Maybe the hair?”

“Maybe something a little lower. I don’t think they painted it.”

Asmo rolled his eyes and you failed to suppress a giggle.

“Could you at least try not to be so crude when we’re in public?” he said.

“We’re not in public, we’re in the castle.”

“Don’t be stupid, you know what I mean!”

“Okay,” you interjected, raising a hand to pacify him . “No fighting, please.”

Asmo turned back to the painting with a “hmph.” “I know I recognize her from somewhere.”

“It’s just some random human,” Mammon said. “She’s probably been dead for years.”

Asmo ignored him, stepping even closer and leaning in to scrutinize the painting. This finally prompted Barbatos to speak up from across the room.

“I wouldn’t get so close—,” he started, but whatever warning he was about to give, it came a little too late. Asmo suddenly lurched forward as if yanked by a rope, his image distorting and phasing out of sight the second he made contact with the portrait.

Barbatos sighed. “It’s cursed.”

Unfortunately for you, whatever effect Asmo had just activated extended far enough to start pulling you and Mammon towards the painting as well.

“Shit,” Mammon swore, feet skidding uselessly against the floor as he tried to resist the force drawing you in. You grabbed his arm. Wherever you were about to end up, you didn’t want to end up there alone.

Beel, bless his heart, didn’t hesitate to race in and take hold of you, but even his strength wasn’t enough to overcome the magnetic pull of the curse, and it simply started dragging him in too.

You looked frantically to the rest of the group. Surely Lucifer or Diavolo could stop this. Neither of them, however, appeared to even be considering stepping in—both of them just watched, annoyed and curious, respectively, as you came closer to the painting. Levi was recording it on his fucking phone.

All three of you tumbled forward, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you fell into darkness.

Chapter Text

The jump between the castle and your new location was nearly instantaneous. You landed roughly on your hands and knees on a hard-packed dirt floor, a little scraped up but otherwise in one piece. Good! The trip hadn’t killed you.

Less good: Mammon and Beel were not there.

You got to your feet and tried to figure out where you’d ended up. It seemed to be a long corridor, dimly lit by torches set far enough apart that the spaces between them fell into darkness. Thick cobwebs covered the ceiling. It looked like a dungeon, or at the very least, a neglected basement.

The urge to panic seized you, which was a reasonable response given the circumstances, but you took a deep breath and forced yourself to think through it. You didn’t know where you were, and you were alone. Aside from that, though, nothing was immediately wrong. There was no hungry creature racing towards you (yet), no traps going off (yet), no hazardous terrain (that you could see). Barbatos or Diavolo presumably knew how the cursed painting worked and would come looking for you soon.

So all you had to do was stay put. That’s what people said to do when you got lost anyway, right? Staying in one spot made it more likely that help would find you.

You briefly considered exploring just a little, to get more of a sense of your surroundings and see if there happened to be any hints or clues towards an exit, but a glance into the flickering shadows down the dark hall quickly dissuaded you.

You picked the least grimy stretch of wall nearby and settled in.

~~~

Back with the remaining members of the group, Diavolo crossed his arms over his chest, enjoying the unexpected turn of events but aware that he probably needed to do something about it. For the human’s sake, at least. “Remind me where that leads, Barbatos?”

“To the labyrinth beneath the castle, my lord.”

“Ah. right.”

Lucifer grit his teeth hard enough to break stone. “I’ll go retrieve them. Asmodeus can stay down there until tomorrow.”

“Lucifer,” Diavolo chided. “It was an accident. No need to punish him.”

“Being stuck down there with Mammon is punishment enough,” Satan said. Levi snickered as he posted the video he’d taken to social media.

“Might they find their own way out, if we give them some time?” Diavolo asked, considering whether or not navigating a derelict maze could have some value as a team building exercise.

Barbatos quickly quashed the idea. “There is no exit. The only way to escape is by activating a particular sigil.”

“Oh. Well I suppose you should go ahead and get them if you’d like, then, Lucifer,” Diavolo said with a wave. “I’m sure they won’t have gotten too far.”

Again, Barbatos cut in with bad news. “They will have been separated upon entry.”

Diavolo quirked a brow at him. “MC is alone?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Are they in any danger?”

“There is a large serpent, but the labyrinth is rather extensive and it will likely take some time for it to track them down.”
Diavolo and Lucifer shared a look.

“Barbatos,” Lucifer said, “give me a copy of the sigil. I’ll get them.”

“Actually, I’d like to go in, if you wouldn’t mind,” Solomon said, stepping forward. “I’d like to collect some samples from the serpent if I manage to run into it; they’d be valuable as spell ingredients.”

Barbatos glanced at Lucifer, who nodded after a moment. The butler held out a palm and a slip of paper materialized above it, illustrated with a complex sigil, which he handed to Solomon.

“Please prioritize finding MC,” he requested. “You are welcome to take what you’d like if you encounter the serpent.”

“Feel free to leave my brothers behind, as well,” Lucifer added.

Solomon strolled towards the cursed painting with a chuckle. “I’ll be back soon,” he said, and disappeared.

~~~

You kept imagining sounds hiding behind the crackling of the torches. At least, you hoped you were imagining them. The clock on your DDD showed nearly twenty minutes had passed since you decided to wait for rescue, and with every passing second that no one showed up, your anxiety built. Why was it taking so long? There was no sign of even Mammon or Beel or Asmo, who were for sure already down here.

Unless maybe they weren’t? Maybe the painting sent everyone somewhere totally different. Maybe Diavolo and Barbatos didn’t actually have any idea where you were, and all you had to look forward to was slowly wasting away in this desolate pit until you died of dehydration and no one ever even found your body.

You scrambled back to your feet as if it could shake off the thought. Sitting with nothing to do but worry was only going to drive you crazy—time to suck it up and find your own way out.

The dirt floor, though solid, crumbled enough under an experimental dig with the toe of your shoe that it would be possible to mark your way as you walked. Unfortunately the torches stuck hard to the walls no matter how hard you pulled, so you’d just have to hope this entire place was lit.

You scratched an arrow into the floor and started walking.

It seemed reasonable to leave marks at the same intervals as the torches, so that’s what you did. In every patch of light you recorded the direction you were moving. When you reached a dead end, you crossed out any arrows you doubled back on to show that there was nothing down that path. You went on like this for another fifteen or so minutes, peeking cautiously around corners, moving as quietly as you could, until the faint sound of a voice reached you through the twisting corridors.

You froze. After a few seconds, it came again. It sounded like… Solomon?

“Hello?” you called.

It was impossible to tell which direction he called back from with the way sound bounced off the walls, but it did at least sound like he was getting closer. “Stay there! I’ll come to you!”

You were more than happy to do so. It didn’t take very long for Solomon to arrive, looking more like he was on a casual stroll than trapped in a cursed dungeon. He raised a hand in greeting once you came into sight.

“Smart of you to leave those arrows,” he said. “It made things easier once I ran across them.”

“Are you here to get everyone out, or did you get pulled in, too?” you asked.

He grinned. “I’m the rescue party.”

Thank God. You nearly hugged him. “Lead the way, then.”

“Actually, there is no exit. We have to use this sigil,” he said, pulling a small piece of paper with a design drawn on it out of a pocket in his cloak. “Would you like to activate it after we find the others? It’s simple enough to do.”

You stared wistfully, maybe a little bitterly, at the sigil. One of the first things you’d been told in preparation for your classes in the Devildom was that you were incapable of performing magic. Diavolo had apparently wanted an “ordinary human” as the second exchange student, someone the opposite of Solomon, so as the chosen one you were completely devoid of the ability to do anything cool or potentially useful for protecting yourself. “I can’t,” you reminded him.

Solomon slipped the paper away. “Right, I forgot. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Not like you could really afford to be too torn up about it—you’d never make it through the year if you got upset every time someone reminded you how weak you were.

“You’ve tried casting beginner level spells?” he asked.

You shook your head. "My only classes about magic are theory, not practical."

“Mm. And you never felt any change, even after making your pacts?”

You paused. No one had suggested that might affect things. You figured no magic just meant no magic, regardless of how many demons you tied yourself to. “Would they make a difference?”

“It’s possible. A pact could help activate latent magical ability, and you have two of them with particularly powerful demons. If you’d like, I’d be happy to sit down with you at some point and we can run some tests.”

A flicker of hope ignited in your heart. Maybe you didn’t have to be a boring, helpless, magicless human after all. “I would love that, thank you.”

Solomon smiled. “In the meantime, I can lend a little of my power to you, just for the night. Give you an idea of what it feels like.”

“You can do that?”

He reached into his pocket again, fishing around for a moment before pulling out a small crystal on a length of silver chain. He placed it in the palm of his hand, where it briefly glowed, then held it out to you. “Here.”

You took the pendant and gave it a close look. The air just around the surface of the crystal felt… thick.

“There’s not much there, but you should be able to activate the sigil when we leave, and play around with a simple spell or two later.”

Objectively, that was next to nothing, but for you, a simple spell or two was an exciting prospect. “Thank you!”

“Of course.” He seemed pleased at an opportunity to play teacher. “Let’s hurry up and collect the others, then. Beelzebub will be disagreeable if he misses lunch.”

“How are we going to find them?”

“Well, I have a pact with Asmo, so I can just summon him. As for the other two, we’ll find them the same way I found you—if you have something belonging to or created by someone, a rudimentary location spell is easy enough. I had a pen you lent me the other day in my pocket.” Solomon procured the pen in question from the depths of his cloak (which you were beginning to think had far more space inside than made physical sense) to show it shining brightly, as if lit from within. “The closer you get, the brighter the light. Not the greatest for a maze, but anything more complicated would require time we don’t have.”

“I don’t think I have anything of Mammon’s or Beel’s,” you said as he put the pen away.

“Not to worry. Technically, you are something of theirs, so I was planning to use you as the focus.”

“...What?”

Solomon laughed at your bewildered expression. “You have pacts with both of them.”

“Doesn’t that work the other way around, though?” you questioned.

“In a straightforward sense, but Infernal magic is hardly straightforward,” he explained. “Demons are naturally cunning creatures; always ready to exploit a loophole or bend a rule, and the magic inherent to them and their realm reflects that. Mammon may not have any literal claim of ownership on you, but you are his responsibility as part of the exchange program, no? And Beelzebub clearly thinks of you as his to protect. Neither are necessarily the obvious or intended interpretation of the spell, but it’s close enough that it should still work.”

“Oh.” It made perfect sense, when he laid it out like that. You wondered what that implied for Celestial magic.

“I’ll summon Asmo first,” Solomon said. “He’d never let me hear the end of it if I rescued his brothers before him.” He turned to face the empty stretch of hallway in front of you, and in a clear voice, began a recitation:

“Denizens of darkness, hear my call and answer. I am Solomon the Sorcerer. I summon forth one of your number: the demon Asmodeus, Fifth Lord of Hell, Avatar of Lust. In my name and by my power, this I command and thus will be done.”

A glowing circle appeared on the ground as he spoke, one large sigil ringed by numerous smaller ones. A sweet scent permeated the air. Rosy smoke rose within the circle, a silhouette forming and darkening within the haze until it all burst outward to reveal Asmo standing in a gently settling pink cloud. Two sets of leathery wings spread behind him, fuschia-tipped horns rising from his hair.

“Solomon!” he cried, immediately throwing himself at his savior. His more demonic features quickly phased out of sight. “Oh, I’m so happy to see you, I—,” He stopped mid-sentence. “What? Why am I still here? Why didn’t you summon me in the castle?”

Solomon unwrapped himself from Asmo’s grasp and made a placating gesture. “I don’t think you want to be in the castle yet. Lucifer isn’t terribly pleased about the situation.”

Asmo frowned. “Why? It’s not like I did this on purpose!”

“I know. Let’s just find your brothers; I’m sure he’ll be fine by the time we get back.”

“Hm? Who else is down here?” He glanced around and noticed you for the first time. “Oh, MC!” he squealed, stepping over to cradle your face in his hands. “You jumped in to try and save me! You should have let Solomon handle it, you silly thing, although I obviously can’t blame you.”

“Um…”

“I actually need them for a spell,” Solomon said, nudging Asmo out of your space to stand in front of you instead. “If that’s still all right?”

“Am I going to light up?” you asked, only half joking.

Solomon chuckled. “Maybe. I’ve never cast this on a person before.” He reached out one hand to hover just over your chest. “We’ll look for Beelzebub first.” There was no magic phrase, just a brief moment of silence and then a slight pulse of energy, and he stepped back. “That’s it.”

You looked down at yourself. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Let me see the pact mark,” Solomon suggested.

Your hand instinctively went to the spot above your stomach where Beel’s mark rested.

“Don’t be shy, darling, you can take your shirt off,” Asmo said.

“Not necessary,” Solomon quickly followed.

You lifted your top just enough to reveal the symbol set across your skin, faintly glowing in response to the spell.

Solomon grinned. “Excellent. Now we just pick a direction.”

“Do I have to walk around with my shirt up the whole time?”

“Yes,” Asmo said, at the same time Solomon answered, “I’m afraid so.”

You sighed. One more indignity on the ever growing list of reasons Diavolo really owed you once this circus of an exchange program was over.

Asmo filled most of the silence as the three of you walked, fussing over his hair, complaining about the lack of phone signal, whining about the situation in general. Solomon wasn’t particularly responsive, though, and after a while Asmo turned his attention towards you.

He sidled up next to you and bumped you lightly with his hip. “Sooooo…”

You raised a brow. “So?”

“Talk to me! I never get you all to myself—if Mammon isn’t hanging off you, you’re too busy studying or doing homework to do anything fun!”

You could only guess that his idea of ‘fun’ was something you’d decline even if you weren’t busy. “I don’t really have much to talk about…”

He scoffed. “Of course you do! How about you and Beel, hm? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how things have been since you two made a pact!”

You floundered for a response that wouldn’t inadvertently encourage this train of conversation. Your relationship had, indeed, changed after the pact, but it was only for Beel to stop treating you with the polite indifference of a temporary house guest and instead treat you with the same casual warmth he gave the rest of his family. Which happened to involve a not-insignificant amount of physical touch.

Asmo poked at your cheek. “See! You’re blushing!” he teased.

You ducked away until he relented, giggling and elbowing you playfully.

“You’re too cute when you’re embarrassed. But for real—,” He spun to stand in front of you, blocking your path. “—you can tell me these things, you know? I promise I can keep a secret.”

“Um…” You glanced past him to Solomon, who didn’t notice that the two of you had stopped walking.

Asmo used a finger to tip your face back towards him. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. So are you crushing on Beel? He’s certainly not the worst one of my brothers you could pick. But you don’t have to settle for just anyone if you’re feeling lonely.” He slid a hand over your shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “I’d be more than happy to keep you company.”

“I’m not—,” you started, trying to step away, but his hand held you firmly in place.

“Ah ah ah, just talk to me, won’t you? Open up a little.”

Asmo had never made you truly uncomfortable before—he was fairly good about laying off the touching and the little comments when he could tell it wasn’t having the desired effect—but for some reason he was being unusually assertive. “I don’t know what you—,”

“Listen.” He pressed you backwards until your back hit the wall, where he proceeded to cage you in with both arms. His tone was just as mild and flirtatious as it always was, his demeanor clearly reading “seductive” rather than anything like anger, but the way his eyes swirled as he pinned you beneath his gaze sent a shudder through you.

“Asmo?” Solomon called, finally noticing your little diversion.

“Talking, Solomon,” he responded without looking away from you.

You tried to push past one of his arms. “Please move,” you said.

“Just look at me, sweetheart.”

“Asmo,” Solomon repeated, insistent.

You pushed harder. “Let me go.”

“I need you to—,”

“Asmodeus. Step away. Now.”

Asmo flinched, dropping his arms and backing off without another word. Once he was several feet away, he turned on Solomon.

“What was that for?”

“You were scaring them.”

“I was trying to charm them.”

“Yes, and it clearly wasn’t working.”

“Exactly!” Asmo threw up his hands, exasperated. “It wasn’t working! It hasn’t worked once since they got here! Why can’t I charm them, Solomon!?”

“I don’t know, but you need to control yourself.”

Asmo stalked away with a huff.

“That’s not the right way,” Solomon pointed out.

“Then check your little compass and start walking!” Asmo snapped.

Solomon looked at you, gauging your level of distress before continuing. You just nodded. By this point during your stay in the Devildom you’d realized that physical intimidation was a pretty normal aspect of life down here, and didn’t necessarily mean much a lot of the time. Not that that made it any less unpleasant to be on the receiving end of, and not that you were any less upset at Asmo about it, you just knew not to take it too personally (although learning that he’d apparently been trying to charm you since day one did make it worse).

Your group set off again, with you and Solomon together in front and Asmo trailing behind, pouting.

“I apologize for him,” Solomon said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Asmodeus’s power is very important to him. He doesn’t tend to handle it well when it isn’t as effective on someone. I’d imagine you just have a natural resistance to charms; that can happen with certain schools of magic. Lucifer is practically invulnerable to hexes.”

That was nice to hear, at least. Not nearly as helpful as having actual magic of your own, but better than nothing. Especially considering what you’d heard from the brothers about Asmo’s ability to turn most people into lovestruck zombies just by looking at them.

The next several minutes passed in silence, since Asmo was too irritated to provide his usual idle chatter. At some point you heard something, just barely there over the crackle of the torches. It sounded like some kind of yelp or shout.

“Everything all right?” Solomon asked when you paused to listen closer.

No further sound came. “I thought I heard something, but it was really quiet. I might have imagined it.”

He turned to Asmo. “Did you hear anything?”

“I’m hearing you wasting time standing around,” Asmo snapped.

Solomon gave him an unamused look. Asmo gave him an “I don’t give a shit” look in return.

“Well,” Solomon said to you, turning back to continue walking, “let me know if you hear it again.”

And, shortly after, you did. It was slightly louder this time, and was definitely someone yelling.

“That’s Mammon’s voice,” Asmo said. “Idiot probably fell down a hole or something.”

Solomon tilted his head, listening. “He must be relatively close by. We should switch the target of the spell to him before he wanders away.”

Asmo groaned. “Can’t we get him last? Being down here is bad enough, I don’t want to listen to him complain the whole time.”

“Well, we’ve had to listen to you complain this whole time, so I think you’ll survive,” Solomon said.

Mistake.

Asmo proceeded to launch into a tirade about your current situation and how poorly Solomon was handling it, and you got the feeling as it went on that he may have just been having a bad past few days in general and was using this as an opportunity to unload a lot of pent up frustration. Solomon couldn’t do much but stand there and weather the storm he had brought on.

You shifted your weight, impatient to get moving after hearing Mammon so nearby. Why was he shouting? He could just be looking for you and Beel and Asmo, but he could also be in trouble. Finding him seemed significantly more urgent than letting Asmo throw a tantrum.

Maybe you could summon him. It looked simple enough when Solomon did it—just say the words, and the pact did the rest. Surely the amount of magic in the pendant would be enough. You stepped a little farther down the corridor from the bickering pair and tried to recall the incantation he had used. “Denizens of darkness,” you murmured, “hear my call and answer.”

Neither Solomon nor Asmo were paying enough attention to notice you begin the recitation. You had no fancy title, so just stated your name in the same place Solomon had.

“I summon forth one of your number: the demon Mammon, Second Lord of Hell, Avatar of Greed.”

Something in you stirred, a buzz of electricity rolling down your back where Mammon’s pact mark lay.

“In my name and by my power, this I command and thus will be done.”

The electricity built. Solomon’s magic activated inside the pendant, giving off a tingling, static sensation that quickly escalated to a needling sting and then to a burning heat. Energy surged through you, constricting your chest and sending your heart racing. The summoning circle appeared faintly on the ground. Then another? You blinked. No, your vision was just going blurry.

You faintly heard Solomon call your name over a shrill ringing in your ears. He stepped into view, concerned, confused. Asmo looked on curiously from behind him. You started feeling a little lightheaded.

The summoning circle glowed more brightly, sparks shooting across its surface, shadows coalescing into humanoid form, and you managed to see Mammon pop into existence in a shower of molten gold before everything went sideways and suddenly Solomon was above you, and then Asmo and Mammon, too, and as black splotches faded from view and the ringing sound faded you realized you must have fainted.

“What the hell just happened?” Mammon said.

Solomon ignored him, leaning close to your face and placing a gentle hand on the side of your head. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” you answered, still a little breathless.

“Did you just summon Mammon?”

“Yeah.”

Judging by everyone’s reactions, this was very surprising news.

“What do you mean, they summoned me?” Mammon asked, while Solomon regarded you with a puzzled expression. In the background, Asmo just seemed intrigued by the drama.

“Did you repeat the incantation you heard me use earlier?” Solomon questioned.

You nodded, and winced, a nasty headache already setting in.

Solomon offered you a hand. “Here. Can you sit up?”

“Probably.” You let him help pull you to a seated position while Mammon fidgeted, practically bouncing from foot to foot.

“Mammon, would you chill out?” Asmo snapped. “I can feel the energy coming off you, it’s stressing me out.”

“‘Cause I just got summoned, dumbass!”

“That’s not what summoning does, idiot!”

“Actually,” Solomon said, “I think he’s right.”

Asmo frowned at him, one had on his hip. “I’m never that energized when you summon me.”

“Because I know how to control my magic. MC, on the other hand…”

Everyone looked at you.

“They don’t even have any magic,” Mammon pointed out.

“I gave them a charm with a small amount stored inside.” Solomon plucked the crystal from where it rested against your chest. The formerly glass-clear stone resembled a burned out lightbulb, clouded over with black. He made an interested sound and let it fall back into place. “It definitely shouldn’t have been enough to summon one of you.”

“How did they do it, then?” Asmo asked.

Solomon stared at the blackened crystal, considering. “They may be a conduit.”

Mammon crouched down to look at you at eye level. He glanced over you, head to toe, as if there would be some visible sign of whatever Solomon was talking about. “The hell’s a ‘conduit?’”

“Someone who lacks magic of their own, but is able to channel and in some cases amplify the magic of others,” Solomon said. “It would explain the overloading of the pendant I gave them. Even increased, the power stored in there wouldn’t be enough to summon most demons, but if they’re also drawing on and magnifying the power of two high-level pacts, I suppose it would be possible. With some physical consequences, obviously.”

You stared at Mammon as Solomon talked. You’d seen him in this form briefly, when he and Beel scuffled in the kitchen during the custard incident, but only for a moment. His horns spiraled up in tight curls. Like Asmo, Mammon had bat’s wings, though his were black and white, tipped with claws. A thin tail with a tuft of feathers at the end flicked around his legs. What you found more distracting than the extra appendages was the fact that he was more or less topless, stark white markings trailing down his torso into the waistband of his leather pants. And—

“Your nipples are pierced,” you blurted.

Mammon blinked at you. His mouth opened slightly, enough for you to see that more of his teeth were sharp than just the little fangs all the brothers normally had, then it snapped closed as he went red all the way to the tips of his ears.

Asmo giggled. “That’s not the only thing he has pierced.”

“SHUT UP!” Mammon jumped to his feet and turned away from the group, crossing his arms over his chest (covering the nipple piercings).

Solomon glanced between the two of you. “Anyway… I think being a conduit is a likely explanation. We can look into it more when we get back to the castle.”

“You know how to get out?” Mammon asked.

“Yes. We just have to find Beel, which shouldn’t take too much longer. We’ve already been on the trail for a while.”

“Well fucking hurry up, then, ‘cause I heard some weird shit down here and I don’t want to find out what it was.”

“Oh?” Solomon brightened, the opposite of your reaction at learning there was ‘some weird shit’ nearby. “That must have been the serpent.”

“‘Serpent?’” the rest of you repeated in unison.

“Barbatos mentioned it, that’s why I volunteered to come get you all. It would be an excellent opportunity to collect some rare spell components,” Solomon said, casual as ever.

Mammon’s wings twitched behind him. “At least get us out of here first! No one else wants to see something like that!”

“I thought you came down here for me!” Asmo complained. “Not some stupid snake!”

“Technically I was told to come for MC,” Solomon said, which obviously did not make Asmo feel better.

You were about to interrupt to ask if someone would help you up, since you were still feeling a little off-balance, when a sudden twinge from Beel’s pact mark made you gasp, drawing everyone’s attention.

Solomon immediately noticed your hand move over it. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” you said, an anxious feeling creeping in. “It just… felt weird for a second.”

He crouched to your level, since you hadn’t yet made any move to stand. “Let me see?”

You lifted your shirt again to reveal the mark. It looked no different than before. Or so you thought—after a few seconds, Solomon pointed out something that was, at a glance, too subtle to notice.

“The light is changing.”

You gave it a closer look. Sure enough, the glow faded and increased slightly, seemingly at random.

“Why’s it doing that?” Mammon asked.

“It’s a spell. The closer we get to Beel, the brighter it gets.” Solomon stood, and offered you a hand to help you up well, steadying you when you swayed on your feet. “Implying that he’s moving rather fast, for it to react this way.”

Mammon shifted a little closer to you. “Like, running away from a giant snake fast?”

“Possibly,” Solomon said. “That could be what the strange sensation was. A pact where the demon is powerful enough or the magic user is inexperienced enough to regulate the connection can sometimes convey emotions through the bond. The serpent may have startled him enough for you to feel it.”

“Well, at least it’s Beel,” Asmo said. “He can handle himself. If it was Mammon he would be dead already.”

Mammon’s wings flared. “No I wouldn’t!”

“If Beel is running, it means he probably can’t handle it, actually,” Solomon pointed out. “So we should find him quickly.”

Asmo gestured towards you. “Well obviously they can summon their pacts, so just have them summon Beel.”

“Did you miss the part where they fell on their ass after I showed up?” Mammon snapped. “You think they can do that again?”

“Okay, well what else are we supposed to do!? Keep wandering around this disgusting pit for the whole day and hope none of us get eaten?”

“That may not be a problem,” Solomon said. You followed his gaze to your torso, where the glowing of the pact mark had already grown bright enough to show through your shirt. “Looks like he’s coming to us.”

You all watched the light rise and fall, steadily shining brighter at an alarming speed.

“If that serpent is after him…” Mammon said.

“Then it’s also coming to us,” Solomon finished.

Somewhere around you, rapid footfalls became audible. Their volume increased with the glow of the mark. You wondered what was so monstrous about this snake that Beel, ridiculously strong as he was, would flee instead of just… crushing it to death, or something. The guy could probably throw a car if he wanted to; there was no way a regular creature would be any match for him.

The sound grew closer. Everyone tensed, the minutes stretching impossibly long as you waited, preparing for something terrible.

Finally, Beel came rocketing around the corner and skidded to a stop a short distance from your group. He spent a brief moment taking in the sight of everyone gathered in the tunnel, appearing relieved to see each person he knew to have come through the portrait present and accounted for, then covered the distance between you in just a few long strides and promptly scooped you off your feet and over his shoulder (you tried not to throw up as the sudden change in orientation made the room spin).

“Run?” Mammon said, looking like he already knew the answer.

Beel nodded. “Run.”

Chapter Text

It was uncomfortable, but you were glad Beel decided to carry you. Demonic speed was far too much for you to keep pace with on a good day, much less in your current state. Solomon had to cast some kind of spell on himself just to lag at the back of the group without being fully left behind.

Your position also gave you a clear view in the direction everyone was running from, so you were the first to see the most enormous snake in the entire world turn the corner and come barreling directly towards you.

“Oh my god,” you said.

Somewhere ahead, Mammon must have glanced back, because you heard a panicked string of expletives followed by, “SOLOMON, FUCKING DO SOMETHING!”

You didn’t wonder anymore why Beel hadn’t taken this thing on head-to-head—it was nearly the same size as the tunnels, with barely enough space around to allow it movement. The only accessible part of it was its face, and unfortunately most of its face was mouth. A giant, gaping mouth, with fangs the size of your arm.

“Asmo,” Solomon said, already panting for breath, “charm it.”

“Charm it?” Asmo repeated. “Are you insane? It’ll eat me before it even looks at me!”

“I can stun it, but only for a second. You have to be ready.”

“Do something else! You can’t just kill it!?”

“Yeah!” Mammon chimed in from the front. “Just fucking kill it!”

“A spell that powerful needs time to cast!” Solomon snapped. “Asmodeus, charm the serpent!”

Asmo yelped as his steps faltered and he spun to face the creature bearing down on you. Solomon whipped around alongside him and threw both hands forward, blasting a visible ripple through the air that slammed into the serpent’s head and stopped it in its tracks. In the brief pause, Asmo darted towards it, placing himself directly in its line of sight. Mammon and Beel watched warily, ready to sprint away again at the slightest hint of danger.

The snake’s tongue flicked out once.

Twice.

…And that was it. It made no move to continue chasing you down or swallow you whole.

Solomon let out a long, relieved sigh. “Good. Keep it like that; I’ll activate the sigil to get us out of here.”

“What, you’re not gonna get those samples you wanted so bad?” Mammon griped.

“I could—would you like to stay here while I extract venom?”

Mammon quickly shook his head. “Nope. I didn’t say anything. Do the sigil.”

You tapped Beel on the back while Solomon fished the slip of paper out of his cloak. “Beel, you can put me down.”

“Oh. Right.” He lifted you off and set you gently on your feet. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay. Just dizzy. Thanks for carrying me.”

“I’m okay too, thank you for asking!” Asmo called. “Just keeping this terrible beast calm for you! Not risking my life at all!”

“Oh, shut up! You wouldn’t have done it if Solomon didn’t make you!” Mammon shot back. “Besides, it’s your fault we’re down here anyway. Lucifer’s gonna kill you when we get back.”

Whatever Asmo had to say in response was cut off as the sigil in Solomon’s hand flared with light. The scene around you wavered (a nauseating effect, thankfully it only lasted a few seconds) and faded into the room at the castle you’d all been in before being pulled into the painting. No one was waiting to receive you.

“Jeez, you’d think someone would at least bother to see if we lived,” Mammon said, finally phasing back to his more human appearance.

Beel clutched at his stomach. “They’re probably eating. I hope we aren’t too late.”

A sudden flash of black and a chittering sound drew everyone’s attention downward, where a little… creature? Was weaving around your legs. It looked like a mass of shadow with limbs, two spots of light set into its body above a mouth full of needlepoint teeth. You instinctively jumped back to get away from it and nearly toppled over. Mammon caught your arm to steady you.

“It’s okay, it’s just an imp,” he said. “It ain’t gonna hurt you.”

So that’s what Belphie had mentioned delivering him food. You’d never seen any of these things around the house before.

The imp hopped up and down and scurried back out of the room, pausing in the doorway to look back at you.

“Barbatos must have left it here to escort us back to the rest of the group,” Solomon said.

It hopped again, as if in confirmation.

Beel needed no further prompting to hurry after it, eager to secure his meal, and the rest of you followed suit, trailing through the halls to wherever the imp was leading you. Mammon stayed next to you the whole time. Your head throbbed with every step. Maybe this could be an excuse to sit out of whatever activity Diavolo had planned next—one near-death experience was enough excitement for the day, thank you.

You did eventually end up in a dining room. Everyone who hadn’t gone on an impromptu dungeon adventure was gathered around a long table, empty dishes suggesting that lunch had wrapped up shortly before (Beel noted this with a sound of distress). The imp disappeared in a puff of smoke as Diavolo rose to greet you.

“You made it!” he said, cheerful as ever. “Everyone is all right? Did you run into the serpent?”

Mammon, in a surprising show of self restraint, didn’t say anything snarky, only letting out a single, irritated puff of breath. Beel was fully tuned out, already at the table searching for leftovers. You caught Barbatos informing him that his portion had been set aside and would be out of the kitchen in a moment, to his visible relief.

“We did, actually,” Solomon answered. “It was quite impressive.”

Asmo did not share the sentiment. “Speak for yourself! That thing nearly ate me alive! It was hideous!”

“Was it? How did you manage to escape?” Diavolo asked, in the same way you might ask someone about what happened next in a TV show.

“I charmed it,” Asmo said. “Even something that monstrous isn’t immune.” His eyes flicked to you, briefly. “Anyway, the whole ordeal was exhausting, and now my shoes are all scuffed and I’m covered in dust and sweat, so unless our next event is a shower, I’m not interested!”

Diavolo chuckled. “Well, I am glad everything turned out okay, at least. Barbatos saved plates for all of you, if you’d like to sit down! We can push the day’s schedule back a bit to accommodate the extra time.”

Asmo went to claim a seat, as did Solomon, but when you didn’t move, Mammon stayed in place.

“You feeling okay?” he asked.

This drew some attention, including from Diavolo, who finally looked mildly concerned. Honestly, you didn’t feel that terrible. Not good, definitely; you’d much rather go back to your room and take a long nap than do anything else right now, but a rough headache and some vertigo wasn’t the end of the world.

(God, being here was warping your standards for this kind of thing. “Well, a couple weeks ago I got thrown against a brick wall and broke everything in my body, and I walked that off pretty well, so frying my brain from a magic overload isn’t too bad.”)

Diavolo came forward, peering at you more closely. “Is everything all right? Were you hurt in the labyrinth?”

“They summoned Mammon,” Solomon mentioned from his seat.

Even Levi, who had been playing video games under the table, glanced up at that.

“How?” Satan asked.

Diavolo nodded with interest. “That’s a rather incredible feat for an average human.”

“An impossible feat,” Lucifer corrected.

When it became clear they were all actually waiting for you to explain, you could only gesture cluelessly. “I don’t know, I just said the words. Ask Solomon.”

This turned most of the attention off you and back to the sorcerer in question, who began to inform everyone about his conduit theory. Mammon gave you a gentle nudge towards the table (“C’mon, you should sit down,”) and you finally took a seat as they all discussed your potential magical ability. Unfortunately, as soon as Barbatos returned with the food, your nausea also returned in a severe way.

You pressed a hand against your stomach, trying to ignore it. By the time he got to your place there was a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead.

He leaned closer as he slid your plate in front of you. “Are you feeling unwell?” he asked quietly.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Ah.” He straightened, and addressed Diavolo. “My Lord, MC is experiencing some distress. I will escort them to their room, if you’ll excuse me.”

“What—?” Diavolo started to ask, then looked at you. “Oh. Yes, thank you Barbatos.”

Barbatos offered a polite hand to guide you from your seat. He wore gloves, but even so, touching him made you a little nervous. It felt wrong, like touching the art at a museum.

Throwing up on the art would be significantly worse, though, so you hurried along behind him.

“Will you make it to your room?” he asked as you started down a hallway.

“I think so. Hopefully.”

“Take deep breaths. We will be there shortly.”

Much to your relief, you did make it to your room before the puking started. Barbatos stood in the doorway of the bathroom while you did it, which was more than a little embarrassing.

“Will you be all right if I step out to fetch some things? I’ll return in a moment.”

You gave him a thumbs up, too busy spitting into the toilet to speak, and he disappeared into the castle. Once you got everything out, the nausea faded to something manageable fairly quickly. By the time Barbatos came back you were rinsing your mouth in the sink.

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded. “Better.”

“Very good. Please come sit—I’ve brought tea and bread, and would like to look you over, if you’ll allow me.”

You did as he said and took a seat on the edge of your bed. He handed you a cup of tea from a tray on the bedside table, explained what herbs it contained and how it was brewed, and let you sip a small amount before beginning your check-up.

“Now,” he said, removing one glove (his nails were painted, you noted) and pressing the back of his hand lightly against your forehead (his skin was very cold), “do you have any idea what may have made you ill?”

Right. He was out grabbing the food when Solomon dropped that bit of information. “Um. I summoned Mammon in the tunnels and kind of… passed out.”

Even Barbatos showed a degree of surprise upon hearing this. “Really? If that is the case, I am frankly amazed you aren’t in worse condition.”

You watched him slip his glove back on. “Is it really that difficult of a thing to do?”

“For an accomplished sorcerer, no. But for you, summoning a demon of Mammon’s power should be all but impossible, and incredibly self-destructive if you were able to manage it.” He held up a finger, and a point of light appeared over it. “Look here, please. I overheard mention of conduits before we left the dining room—is that Solomon’s theory?”

“Yes,” you said, following the light with your eyes as he moved it from right to left.

“Hm. I suppose that, coupled with the fact that Mammon was already physically close by, would explain it. If you tried to summon him from the human world I imagine you’d have very different results.” The light vanished. “Are you in any pain?”

“Just my head.”

Barbatos nodded and withdrew a vial of liquid from an inner pocket. “I brought this just in case. It should help.”

He handed it over and you uncorked it. It smelled unfamiliar but not unpleasant when you gave an experimental sniff.

“The young master is not fond of the bitter taste of this potion, so I brew it with an added extract to mask the flavor. This dosage should be appropriate for you.”

“Thank you,” you said, swallowing it immediately. “Thank you for the tea and bread, too. I’m sorry if I threw off the schedule.”

“There is no need for thanks or apologies. I advise you to rest for the remainder of the day, and tomorrow if you feel up to it you may rejoin the group activities. In the meantime, please let me know if you need anything else.”

You nodded. “I will.”

“Then I shall take my leave,” Barbatos said, and left you alone.

In the following silence, you sank back into the plush bedding and took a long, deep breath. Not the best day, so far, but you were alive and not being digested by a monster snake, so it could have been worse. And it wasn’t all bad, right? You discovered your magic. Or at least, your access to Mammon and Beel’s magic. That was huge! A life-changing revelation in the midst of this whole life-changing year. If you could learn to harness that, maybe you wouldn’t be such a sitting duck around other demons.

You were daydreaming about what kinds of cool magic you might be able to learn when your roommates for the weekend—Asmo and Simeon—returned.

“How are you feeling?” Simeon asked right away.

“I’m okay. Barbatos gave me some tea and medicine.”

“That’s good,” he smiled. “If you do need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. I’m more than happy to get it for you.”

Asmo went straight to his overly large suitcase and started pulling out an assortment of bath and beauty supplies. “Spoiled by Barbatos and Simeon,” he said, “lucky you! Maybe I should have gotten a little injured myself!”

“Maybe you should have,” you agreed. Rude, but you were irritated with him.

The comment made him pause. He either chose to ignore it or dismissed it as a joke, though, and continued prepping for his shower.

You got on your phone to pass the time and Simeon settled in the armchair across the room with a book. Mammon and Beel both sent texts asking if you were all right (Mammon’s actually said, “you didn’t puke yourself to death, did you,” but the sentiment was there), which you appreciated. Beel also expressed concern that you hadn’t gotten to eat anything. You assured him you’d survive until dinner.

Once Asmo had most of his things lined up, he looked back and forth between two final jars. “I can’t decide which of these to use… What do you two think? A floral scent, or something spiced?”

“I’m sure they’re both lovely,” Simeon said.

“They are,” Asmo said, “that’s the problem! MC, what do you think?”

“I don’t know. Flip a coin.”

He frowned at your blatant disinterest. “Are you upset with me? You know the painting thing was an accident, I—,”

“I know,” you interrupted. “It’s not that.”

“Well, what is it then? You’re still not feeling well?” He came over to your bedside and placed a hand against your forehead, though you doubted he actually knew what a fever on a human would feel like. “Beel shaking you up while we ran didn’t help, I’m sure.”

You moved out from under his touch. “I didn’t like you pushing me around and trying to charm me.”

Simeon glanced up from his book.

Asmo waved it away, unconcerned. “That? I hardly touched you. And like I said, I was just—,”

“I don’t really care,” you cut in again. “I didn’t like it.”

Annoyance crept into his expression. “Beel destroyed your room with a fridge and you were best friends the next day, I don’t understand why you’re making such a fuss about this. It’s not like I was going to hurt you.”

“That’s not the same. And Beel apologized.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” Asmo said. “Obviously I won’t do it again.”

You just went back to your phone. He was apparently expecting an “okay, I forgive you,” and when he didn’t get it he scoffed and swept away into the bathroom, shutting the door a little forcefully behind him.

Simeon spoke up after a moment. “Are you all right?”

“I am,” you assured him. “He really did hardly do anything, I’m just…” You shrugged. You were sure Simeon cared, but honestly, how would he understand how you felt any better than any of the brothers? Angel or demon, both were equally detached from a human perspective. The only difference was that Simeon was probably better at expressing sympathy.

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” he asked.

“He tried to charm me and got mad when it didn’t work. Then he said he’d been trying to do it since I first got here, and…” You trailed off again. And you felt betrayed? It felt stupid to say. Just because you were building trust with Mammon and Beel didn’t mean every demon who wasn’t openly hostile to you had your best interests at heart.

Simeon seemed to sense your conflicting thoughts. “You’re allowed to be upset,” he said. “I imagine it was an unpleasant thing to hear. Something like that would make you unsure of your relationship with someone.”

“Yeah.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I will say that Asmodeus being so fixated on charming you is likely less about him wanting to do anything to you personally, and more about reassuring himself that he’s capable. He’s probably distressed over the situation as well, for his own reasons. Not that that excuses his behavior.”

“Why would it matter to him?”

Simeon closed his book and rested it on his lap. “Have any of the brothers spoken about their past at all with you?” he asked. At your nod, he continued, “When Asmodeus was an angel, he was referred to as ‘the jewel of the heavens.’ Beautiful, loved by all. It’s a reputation I believe he is still very much attached to. I think the idea of someone being indifferent towards him, or, Father forbid, disliking him, sends him into a bit of a spiral.”

Well, if that wasn’t the most human shit you’d heard. Relying on validation from others to support your fragile sense of self worth. And if Asmo couldn’t get that validation naturally, he could guarantee it artificially. Except for when he couldn’t—like now, with you. “So he’s got low self esteem.”

Simeon let out a small laugh. “You could say that, though I’m sure he’d argue with you.”

Getting this background did shift your perception of him a bit. It was a bad state of mind to exist in. Bad enough for a normal person, let alone someone trying to live up to titles like “avatar of lust” and “jewel of the heavens.” If the only thing you exist for is to be loved, what does it mean when someone doesn’t love you?

He still wasn’t off the hook, but you’d have to talk to him about it. You did genuinely like Asmo—he could be very thoughtful and sweet, when he wanted to be, and his bubbly energy tended to be contagious.

All these brothers were just such a mixed bag of lovely and terrible traits. The next human Diavolo pulled down here needed to be a licensed therapist.

As it turned out, you didn’t need to wait long to have a conversation. When the bathroom door opened nearly an hour later, Asmo emerged in a fluffy robe and came directly to your bed. He sat down across from you and cleared his throat delicately, waiting until you looked up to start talking.

“I was thinking about it,” he said, “and I just can’t stand the thought of you having this negative image of me in your mind. I’m sorry I frightened you, down in the labyrinth. It was unbecoming of me.” He held out a hand, and while you debated leaving him hanging, you ultimately took it. He ran his thumb in circles across your skin, and you couldn't tell if it was meant to comfort your or himself. “You should know I would never force myself on someone, if that’s something you were worried about. All my partners are extremely willing, I don’t—,”

“I believe you,” you said, not needing the in-depth details on that one. Not with Simeon sitting ten feet away, at the very least.

“Yes, well. I just don’t want you thinking of me as some kind of brute. I know I didn’t mean any harm, but I do forget how scary these things must be for you.” He gave your hand a light squeeze. “So you’ll forgive me, won’t you? Please?”

You paused for a moment, considering, while he looked up through his lashes at you, batting them once or twice for good measure.

“I don’t like when you guys use your strength to intimidate me,” you said. “I know it’s not a big deal for you, and it’s the way things are here, but if you want me to feel safe or comfortable then I think at least the people I live with should make an effort to not do it. Okay?”

“I’ll be nothing but gentle with you,” Asmo agreed. “Though I can’t make any promises for my brothers.”

“Thank you. Don’t try to charm me anymore, either,” you said.

Asmo frowned. “Why not? It doesn’t even work on you…”

“I don’t want someone else messing around with my head. It scares me.”

“It’s not scary! It makes you feel good, all it does is—,”

“Asmo.” You squeezed his hand for emphasis. “I don’t want you to do it. That’s it.”

He pouted, but nodded. “Fine.”

“Then I forgive you.”

“Ah! What a relief.” He pressed a quick kiss to the back of your hand before springing up from the bed. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me, but I was worried you might try to ask for a pact. Beel set the bar for apologies a little high, there.”

“He and Mammon seem quite content with theirs,” Simeon said.

“Their hearts are bigger than their brains,” Asmo responded. “The only one whose judgment I’d trust on a pact is Satan.”

“Not Lucifer?” Simeon asked.

“Yes, obviously Lucifer, but him binding himself to a human is about as likely as Mammon becoming king, so I wouldn’t even bother thinking about it. Besides, Solomon is more than enough for me. I don’t need anyone else dragging me around and working me to the bone on stupid, dusty magic experiments.”

The fact that the two of them had a pact was strange to you. The rest of the brothers were openly distrustful of the sorcerer, and didn’t seem to be in the habit of making pacts in general, so Asmo’s relationship stood out. “Why do you even have a pact with him?”

Asmo hummed as he unzipped his suitcase and started spreading potential outfits across his bed. “It’s not a very flattering story. Truly, he just wanted a pact with Lucifer, and when he found out we were brothers, he saw it as a way to get one step closer. I didn’t know that at the time, obviously, and I may have had a little too much to drink that night, and he can be very charming when he wants. So I ended up in a pact with him.”

“That… seems kind of terrible,” you said.

Asmo made an amused sound. “You don’t get seventy-two pacts by being a good person. I hated him for a while, but things got better over the centuries.”

Hold on—centuries? As in hundreds of years? “How old is Solomon?”

“Oh, has no one told you? He’s ancient, for a human. Some experiment when he was younger stopped him from aging.”

All right, sure. Why not. Of course he was immortal.

“Anyway,” Asmo continued, “It can be annoying, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t know how to wield my power well. If I were to ever forge another pact, I wouldn’t accept anything less.”

Well, that didn’t bode well for your chances of getting all the pacts you needed to help Belphie escape. One year was probably not enough time to become as impressive a sorcerer as an immortal with seventy two demons at his command.

Asmo’s train of thought apparently went in the same direction. “I’m sure you want to add me to the little collection you’re making of my brothers,” he said, “and I can’t blame you, of course, and while I will admit I’m curious after your summoning stunt today, you have a long way to go before I’d even consider saying yes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said.

“Don’t be sad, though! You’ll still get to spend plenty of time with me.” He picked a flowy, sheer top out of the pile on his bed and held it up. “Yes or no? We’re touring the castle grounds next, and I think this would look perfect for a picture in the gardens…”

“We’re meeting everyone in ten minutes, so whatever you choose, you’ll want to be dressed soon,” Simeon said.

“Ugh! Fine.” Asmo pulled at the bow holding his robe closed.

“Asmodeus,” Simeon said. “Change in the bathroom. Please.”

“Why?”

Simeon only gave him a pointed look. It almost reminded you of Lucifer.

“All right, all right. Your loss.” Asmo took his clothes and reluctantly gave himself some privacy.

Once the bathroom door closed, Simeon turned to you. “You handled that situation very well,” he said. “I imagine it’s difficult to stand up for yourself here.”

“Thanks. It is, but… I don’t have much of a choice, I guess.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve done an admirable job dealing with everything that’s been thrown at you during this program. The fact that you’re still here at all is a testament to that. Luke begs me to let him go home at least once a week.”

You laughed once. “I can’t really blame him. Thank you, though. It’s nice to hear someone say that.”

“I’m always here if you need a kind word. And if you ever need a moment of peace, Purgatory Hall is open to you as well. I’m sure Luke and Solomon would agree.”

“I can almost guarantee I’ll take you up on that offer.”

The bathroom door swung open again at that point, and Asmo emerged in his new outfit, spritzing a bottle of perfume. “O-kay! All ready!”

“Let’s head out, then,” Simeon said. “MC, rest well. We’ll tell you about the tour later, if you’d like.”

“I’ll take lots of pictures!” Asmo added.

“Sounds good,” you said. “Have fun, try not to touch any cursed objects.”

The two of them left, their voices fading down the hall until you were in silence again. Despite how long the first tour had dragged on (and how it had ended), you were a little disappointed to be missing the second part. Maybe Diavolo could show you around some other time. Levi was probably also posting a play-by-play on his Devilgram story, and between that and all the photos Asmo was sure to upload you’d see everything either way.

You settled down into bed to try and catch a nap before everyone came back to get ready for dinner. It didn’t take long for your phone to interrupt with a text notification.

Mammon: Already bored as hell

You: Don’t let Lucifer catch you texting o_o

Mammon: Gimme a break
Mammon: How about you summon me again so I don’t have to sit through all this

You: I might throw up on you

Mammon: JOKING
Mammon: You gotta entertain me at least

You: Okay
You: Tell me about what’s on the tour

Mammon: Typing…

You smiled as Mammon began to relay—more or less—what was going on outside, interspersed with his own commentary. Before long, you were nodding off in the lulls between his texts, and eventually you fell asleep, pleasantly distracted from the chaos of the day.

Chapter Text

Hello friends! This is just an update to say I've gone through and made some small edits to the work as a whole. The vast majority of it was just tweaking dialogue and some narration, nothing story-changing. The only relevant details that have been altered are that I removed the lines about MC hearing a ghostly female voice just before finding the attic, and the figure they see while unconscious after their near-death experience with Lucifer is a little more vague and does not call them by name. I'll let you speculate where that's going, lol.

I actually have a couple pages of the next chapter written already, so hopefully you'll see it soon! I'll delete this update at that point.

Chapter Text

A gentle hand on your shoulder and the sound of Simeon calling your name pulled you from your nap some time later.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he said. “Dinner is being served shortly. Do you feel up to joining us, or would you like something brought to the room?”

You rubbed at your eyes and yawned, still booting up. “Uh. Give me a minute.”

“Of course.”

You stretched, yawned again, and took stock of your body, and were pleasantly surprised to find that Barbatos’s medicine and a few hours of sleep seemed to have taken care of most of your summoning-induced stress. Dinner would be manageable.

“I think I’m fine.”

Simeon smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. Barbatos is cooking a meal to showcase Devildom cuisine, so it should be quite a treat.”

“Oh. Good,” you said, without much enthusiasm. There were a lot of things you’d grown accustomed to here so far, but the food was not one of them.

Simeon picked up on this and chuckled. “Do you miss human food?”

“I mean, not everything here is bad, it’s just…”

“It’s different,” Simeon nodded. “I enjoy the variety, but I find myself thinking about certain meals from home, as well. Although I’m sure the amount of food here that’s toxic to humans must make things especially difficult for you.”

“Lucifer had to put a ‘forbidden ingredients’ list on the fridge because everyone kept making stuff that would kill me.”

Simeon laughed again. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that with Barbatos. He’s truly a wonderful cook, I’m sure you’ll find plenty to enjoy tonight.”

He ended up being right, thankfully. Barbatos’ culinary skills far outperformed any of the brothers, and you were introduced to several new dishes you thoroughly enjoyed—though what you really enjoyed was the fact that the meal passed calmly and uneventfully. When Diavolo announced that a formal party would be taking place later that evening, you actually found yourself looking forward to it. It could be a sort of soft reset on the retreat. You got the nonsense out of the way early, and now you could enjoy yourself.

Except, you realized upon returning to your room with Asmo and Simeon after dinner, you had nothing to wear. Or so you thought—again, Barbatos proved indispensable, showing up with an appropriately formal outfit for you, even offering to alter it with magic if the style wasn’t to your preference. It fit perfectly, and just a couple hours later, you stood in one of the entrances to the castle’s lavishly decorated ballroom.

A crowd of demons filled the space. Everyone was dressed in fine clothing, and wings, horns, and tails were on full display. In the center of the room, people danced to music drifting through from somewhere out of sight, and on the periphery they socialized and sipped at drinks.

Asmo immediately took off, disappearing into the throng to a chorus of delighted greetings.

You turned to Simeon. “Who are all these people?”

“Assorted nobility, I’d imagine.” Something in your demeanor must have read as nervous, because he gave you a reassuring smile. “Worried?”

“A little…” At this point in your stay, you still didn’t really interact much with demons outside of the brothers. Even at RAD, things with your classmates were impersonal at best (and hostile at worst). Navigating nobility in a ballroom setting was significantly further outside your comfort zone.

“It’s all right. You can stay with me, if you’d like. I’m sure Luke will want company as well.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Simeon smiled again. “Let’s—,”

“MC!” A loud voice called, interrupting. You looked out to see that Diavolo had spotted you and was making his way over.

Now, you knew Diavolo was a big guy. Beel was intimidating, and Diavolo outdid him in both height and width. The buttons on every shirt that man owned fought for their lives every time he moved. You knew this, and yet seeing him as he approached you through the crowd still short circuited your brain for a good few seconds.

With his demonic features on full display, he truly looked like someone you’d believe was the ruler of hell. Four massive bat-like wings spread behind him, blood red fading to pitch black and adorned with gold. His horns, similarly decorated, curved around his head like a crown. You could practically feel energy radiating from him.

As for his outfit, well. Whoever dressed him (probably Barbatos) knew what they were doing. His pants were simple, black and well-fitted, and rather than any kind of shirt or jacket, he wore a floor length robe, cinched with a jeweled choker at his neck but otherwise completely open, exposing his entire sculpted abdomen as well as a frankly obscene amount of cleavage. More gold circled his hips and shone at his wrists.

“MC,” he repeated, cheerful as he came to stand in front of you. “You look lovely. Please, enjoy yourself—dance, eat; I promise there are no cursed objects this time!”

You laughed somewhat awkwardly.

Diavolo then turned to Simeon, and, much to your dismay, put a hand on his shoulder and started leading him away into the crowd. “There are a few people I’d like to introduce you to…”

Simeon cast an apologetic glance back in your direction as you were promptly robbed of your emotional support angel. You scanned the room, searching for anyone else you could anchor yourself to. Asmo was easy to find, his sheer top glittering in the light, but he was also surrounded by an attentive group of demons, which is what you were actively trying to avoid.

Lucifer stood near the edge of the crowd, engaged in more subdued conversation. He wore something resembling human formal wear, though far more regal than anything you were likely to see at home. An elegant, high-collared suit embellished with delicate gold embroidery, a layered cape framing his silhouette, gloves the same ruby red as his eyes. And of course, two pairs of dark, feathered wings held proudly against his back.

Regardless of how you felt about him personally, you had to admit, he was beautiful.

And also not who you wanted to hang out with.

Unfortunately, as if he could sense it, Lucifer looked up to meet your eyes. He excused himself from the demon by his side and started making his way towards you.

Well. Great.

You refrained from trying to escape into the crowd, and when Lucifer reached you he extended a gloved hand in lieu of greeting. “Dance,” he said curtly.

“Um…” You glanced from his hand to his face, his expression impassive. “I don’t know how.”

“You’ll manage.”

His tone left no room for negotiation. Reluctantly, you took his hand, and he brought you to the center of the room, where several other couples and small groups moved in practiced motions across the polished floor.

“Feet together,” Lucifer instructed as he placed your free hand in the correct position. He then gave you a perfunctory run-through of the steps—once—before beginning the dance.

He led you in circles, utterly unfazed by your immediate stumbling. He just swept along as if you were a competent partner, dragging you after him with a firm grip. He didn’t speak. You assumed this may have been to give you a moment to get the hang of things, but as the song stretched on and you gradually stopped tripping over him, he remained silent. Every time you glanced up, though, he was staring at you.

It started to get unnerving.

If he was going to scold you for something, why wasn’t he doing it already? Obviously he hadn’t asked you to dance just for the pleasure of it. You found yourself casting surreptitious looks around the room, trying to catch the eye of one of his brothers—literally any of them, hoping they might get a clue and step in to interrupt whatever was going on here.

Lucifer, as if waiting for your discomfort to rise high enough, took this as his cue to break the silence.

“Whatever game you’re playing,” he said, “I would advise you proceed with caution.”

You met his gaze briefly. His eyes were hard.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, and you meant it.

“Then let me be clear. I respect my brothers’ freedom to do as they wish. However, if I sense that you’ve become a threat—,” his grip on your hand tightened to the point of pain as he leaned in to speak directly into your ear, voice low, “—I will show you absolutely no mercy. Understood?”

Your steps faltered. The two of you came to a standstill, Lucifer holding you in place while you tugged against him, growing distressed under the bruising pressure of his grip. “Let go.”

He did not. You felt a pressure in the air, similar to what you’d felt before he attacked you in the crypt. It sent your heart hammering, panic rising in your throat.

“If you’re just gonna stand there, give someone else a turn.”

You let out a relieved breath at Mammon’s voice. Like popping a bubble, all the tension drained from the atmosphere, and Lucifer straightened, staring you down for a few more long seconds before finally releasing his hold.

“Mammon is a terrible dancer,” he remarked casually as he turned away. “Try not to embarrass yourselves.”

“I’m not that bad…” Mammon grumbled after him. He then turned his attention to you, and noticed you holding your hand against your chest, and the shimmer of tears in your eyes. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? You okay?” he asked.

Your response was automatic. A nod. “I’m fine.” Mentally, you kicked yourself for the non-answer. Why shouldn’t you tell him that his brother was threatening you? The same brother that literally smashed you against a wall and almost killed you two weeks ago? Were you really that desperate to avoid conflict?

Mammon glanced across the room at Lucifer’s retreating back, obviously aware he had done something, then back to you. “Do you, uh… I mean, we don’t have to dance if you don’t want to.” His posture drooped somewhat.

And God, that sad little look affected you more than you’d care to admit. “We can dance,” you said.

Mammon brightened. “You’re sure? You don’t want to sit down for a minute or anything?”

You took a deep breath to recenter yourself, blinking away your unshed tears, and offered him your hand. “It’s okay. Just… gently, please.”

He grinned as he stepped into place, one hand taking yours, his other on your waist. “All right, let’s get moving, then. We’re blocking traffic.” He counted under his breath for a moment to the tempo of the music, a look of concentration on his face, before stepping off.

You made it all of five seconds before tripping over each others’ feet.

“Okay, maybe it’s been a while,” Mammon said.

“How long is ‘a while?’”

“Never.”

You laughed, and Mammon seemed relieved that you weren’t bothered by his lack of skill. “Aren’t you guys like, nobility?” you asked. “I would think you’d get lessons about stuff like this.”

“Yeah, Lucifer has tried, I just don’t care.”

“Well…” You didn’t really want to keep stumbling around in front of everyone, but truthfully, you liked the feeling of Mammon being so close—the warmth, the scent of his cologne. It was comforting. “We can just… walk in circles.”

Mammon gave an amused huff. He didn’t object, though, and the two of you abandoned your attempts at dancing in favor of doing just that, spinning lazily like a couple of kids at a school dance.

“You, ah. You look good,” Mammon said, then quickly added, “for a human. You’re dressed nice, I mean.”

His outfit was only mildly less revealing than the leather getup he’d appeared in when you summoned him in the tunnels, made from rich black fabric and accessorized with nearly as much gold as Diavolo wore. The lack of coverage gave you a clear view of those white markings that stood out so starkly against his bronze skin.

He was painfully attractive. Magazine cover, movie star, runway model attractive. He shone like the goddamn sun.

You did not tell him this. What you said was, “You’re dressed nice, too. For a demon.”

“Course I am.” (No blush, you noted with some disappointment.) He went quiet, but there was a small crease between his brows. After a minute, he spoke again: “What did Lucifer say to you?”

You sighed. “I don’t know. He thinks I have bad intentions, I guess. Just wanted to threaten me about it.”

Mammon’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he didn’t respond right away. You stared at the white mark that ran down the column of his throat while the music continued and the other dancers swirled gracefully around you.

“I think you just make him nervous,” he eventually said.

“Lucifer?”

“Yeah.”

“How is that possible?”

“You’re just… throwing things off. Nothing ever changes around here. He probably thought he could scare you into keeping quiet for a year, and everything would be like normal. But you keep doing stuff nobody expects. Getting into trouble, making pacts, now this whole magic thing. It freaks him out when he’s not in control.”

First of all, that sounded like a problem for him and his nonexistent therapist. Second of all: “It’s not like I’m doing any of that on purpose,” you said. “And he acted like it was a good thing when I made a pact with you.”

“Yeah, well. Seemed like a fluke when it happened, and Levi forced you to do it, anyway. Plus, it was me. Everyone expects me to fuck up. Lucifer probably figured it’d get me to take better care of you. Beel’s different, though. We were all kinda shocked when he said he did it.”

You let the ‘everyone expects me to fuck up’ part pass without comment, for now. “But what does he think I’m going to do?” you asked. “It’s not like I actually know how to use whatever magic I have, and I’m going to be gone in less than a year anyway.”

Mammon shook his head. “He’s just looking out for us. I know you don’t get how he could see you as a threat, but… You come close enough to losing something once, and you’re extra careful with it after that, you know?”

The statement hung in the air as the two of you continued to “dance” in silence. You’d learned very little about the brothers’ past, but it was clear that even after however many centuries they’d been down here, it still weighed heavily on them.

“Anyway. He doesn’t need to be such a bastard about it.” Mammon raised his hand to spin you around, a move that was definitely not appropriate for the current song, but that succeeded in making you smile. You spun him in return, and he laughed, and twirled you back with an even larger flourish. A few surrounding guests gave the two of you curious or disapproving looks.

When the music finally faded, transitioning to a new piece, Mammon peered across the room, to the long tables against the wall laden with refreshments. “You wanna grab some food?” he asked.

“Sure.”

His gaze flicked to your hands, still lightly clasped, and in an impulsive moment of boldness you shifted your grip to lace your fingers together. Inwardly, you cringed, instantly regretting it, and when Mammon looked up you fumbled out the first excuse that came to mind.

“Don’t want to get separated.”

“...Right.” He paused, then turned and started to head through the crowd, giving you a light tug. “Come on.”

You followed close behind. The room was not exceptionally large, but you only made it partway to your goal before being intercepted by Diavolo, this time with another guest in tow.

“MC! Have you met Mephistopheles?” He gestured to the man at his side, a demon with warm skin and wine-colored hair, wearing an ornately decorated suit.

“No, not yet,” you said. To your surprise, Mammon still kept hold of your hand.

“He’s in charge of the newspaper at RAD, so I’m sure you’ll see each other around campus. You should get to know each other; maybe you can collaborate on some projects!”

Somehow you didn’t find that very likely. You weren’t sure if Diavolo was truly oblivious or just choosing to ignore it, but this Mephistopheles guy looked like he wanted to wipe you off the bottom of his shoe.

“I’ll leave you two to chat!” Diavolo said, and gave the other demon a pat on the back before being drawn away to socialize with someone else.

Mephistopheles gave you an unimpressed once-over.

“Out of all the humans in the world, it is quite disappointing that you’re what we ended up with.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mammon said. “We’re at a party, pull the stick out of your ass and go have a drink or something.”

Mephistopheles rolled his eyes. “Disgraceful manners, as always, Mammon.” Then, to you: “I have better things to do with the paper than write pointless fluff about the Avatars’ pet human, so don’t expect any attention from me.”

“That’s fine,” you muttered, at the same time Mammon said, “They’re not a pet.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re the one on a leash, aren’t you, Mammon? Everyone was surprised to hear about your pact, but I have to say, I think it’s a perfect match. A mediocre demon for a mediocre human.”

Mammon’s tail flicked like an agitated cat. “Pretty sure I can put my mediocre fist through your skull, if you wanna keep talking.”

“Yes, you and Beelzebub both, I’m sure. The human does seem to prefer brawn over brain when it comes to their pactmates.”

“All right,” you said, already having quite enough of this conversation, “nice meeting you. Have a good night.” Without waiting for a response, you walked away, gripping Mammon’s hand a little tighter. Mephistopheles scoffed behind you.

You made it the rest of the way to the tables of food and drink at the edge of the room. Snacks would not undo that interaction, but they would help. If there were any left, that is—Beel was camped out at the last table, steadily eating his way through everything within reach.

“Hey,” Mammon said as you grabbed a small plate. “Don’t let Mephistopheles wind you up. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Does he get punched often?”

Mammon snorted, picking up a plate himself. “I wish. Guy’s from an old noble family, right up there under Diavolo. Fighting’s fine for lower demons, but you can’t get into it with someone like that unless you want to deal with all the shit they’ll stir up afterward.”

“Maybe I’ll do it right before my year is over.”

“Ha! I’d pay a million grimm to see that.” Mammon paused loading up on his own snacks to hold a bright yellow eyeball on a skewer out to you. “Here, try this. They’re real good.”

You accepted the thing with no intention of putting it anywhere near your mouth. “Thanks.”

Once the two of you finished collecting a satisfactory pile of finger-foods, you joined Beel near an ever-growing stack of empty dishes. His mouth was too full to acknowledge you with anything other than a nod.

“Barbatos tell you off for hogging all the food yet?” Mammon asked.

Beel nodded again. He studied you while he chewed, and between one bite and the next, said, “You look nice.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. His outfit was less extravagant than others present, but well suited to his figure. “You look very nice, too.”

An understatement, but he seemed pleased to hear it, nonetheless.

He and Mammon made small talk about the party while you people-watched and sampled your various snacks. Inevitably, your attention drifted back to Beel. You’d only seen his less human form once, back when he destroyed the kitchen, and only briefly.

His horns grew close to his head, larger and sturdier looking than Mammon’s or Asmo’s. Striped black markings curved around his exposed shoulders and up his neck. By far the most interesting thing was his wings—contrary to every other aspect of his appearance, they were thin and delicate, insect-like, the type of wings you’d imagine more on a pixie or fairy than on a demon. Could he fly with them?

They flickered, rustling like paper, and you glanced up to find him aware of your staring.

“Your wings are pretty,” you said.

Beel froze with his next bite halfway to his mouth. After a second, he actually set the food back on the plate, regarding you with a somewhat puzzled expression. “Pretty?”

“Yeah. They’re like a…” What’s a bug that won’t sound insulting? “A honeybee.”

The tips of his ears went a little pink. “Oh.”

“Hey, you never said anything about my wings!” Mammon interjected, flaring them out for emphasis as if perhaps you just needed a better look.

“No? I guess I didn’t notice them.”

He whapped you with one, mindful of the sharp spine on top. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“You must be rubbing off on me.”

“Smartass.” He snatched a small sweet from your plate, one you had actually been planning on eating.

“Hey!” You went to grab it back, but he held it out of reach. Beel took this as an invitation and plucked it from Mammon’s hand, and put it straight into his mouth.

You both spun on him. “Beel!”

He swallowed, unrepentant. “You shouldn’t play with your food.”

Mammon’s response was cut off by someone clearing their throat behind you. You turned to see Satan watching your squabbling with a raised brow.

“If you’re done flirting,” he said, “I’d like to get to the Demonus.” He gestured to the glasses at the end of the table that the three of you were blocking.

“No one’s flirting,” Mammon said immediately, while you and Beel just moved out of the way.

“I don’t care.” Satan got his drink and took a moment to sip at it, gazing out over the party, and the partygoers, with a calculating look.

His demonic features were interesting—despite not having wings, black feathers dotted the sides of his face and trailed down his neck, disappearing beneath his top. His tail was skeletal, pitch black and sharp, tipped in a vibrant shade of green that made you think of something toxic. The dress-like outfit he had on revealed a visible spine running up his back with similar coloration.

“Can I help you?” he asked, as you were caught staring again.

“Sorry,” you quickly said. “I like, your, um... The way you look.”

Satan’s expression stayed mostly neutral, though you thought you saw a bit of a smile. He downed the rest of his drink and handed you the empty glass before heading back into the crowd. “Keep flirting, actually. You could use the practice.”

***

You ended up leaving the party early with Levi, Mammon, and Beel to go play video games (because obviously Levi considered a game console essential packing for a weekend trip). Out of your formal-wear and comfortably clad in pajamas, the four of you sat on the floor around the small TV, playing the demonic equivalent of Mario Kart. You and Beel played amicably for third and fourth place on most of the courses while Mammon and Levi bickered and fought over first.

It was… nice. The palace, the party, the fancy clothes—they were all spectacular, for sure, but you couldn’t help but feel like a tourist sometimes. It was these insignificant moments, Mammon trying to block Levi’s view of the screen with a wing and Levi using his tail to knock Mammon’s controller out of his hands, where you actually felt like a part of life here.

Not that this sentimentality would make much difference to Lucifer, who made sure to come by and chastise everyone for ditching later that evening.

“Levi’s idea,” Mammon said immediately.

“No, you came to me saying you wanted to leave!”

“He begged us to come play games with him. He was practically crying.”

“You’re such a lying asshole!” Levi took the pillow he’d been sitting with and flung it at Mammon.

Mammon smacked it out of the air and flung it back.

Levi got to his feet and threw it back again.

Mammon got to his feet and gripped the pillow like a baseball bat, which sent Levi scrambling for cover behind one of the beds.

“Stop it,” Lucifer ordered. “This is not our house, show at least a shred of respect.”

“Yeah, dumbass, you’re going to break something,” Levi said to Mammon.

“I’m not gonna break anything with a stupid pillow,” Mammon said, and chucked it across the room.

Levi ducked and it sailed over his head, hitting a table and making the large decorative vase on top of it wobble dangerously.

“Mammon.” Lucifer glared at him.

“I didn’t break it!”

Levi took advantage of the momentary distraction to land a direct hit on Mammon’s back.

“Hey!” Mammon jumped onto the bed, grabbed a second pillow, and started whaling on Levi from overhead with both of them at once.

“If the two of you don’t cut it out,” Lucifer growled, “I’m—,”

“Ohhh, a pillow fight!” Asmo suddenly bounded in, with Satan looking on from the doorway behind Lucifer, both of them presumably having followed him in the hope of some drama. Asmo picked up his own pillow and tossed it at Mammon, who returned fire with considerably more force.

You and Beel watched the chaos unfold until one poorly-timed throw missed its target and thwumped right into Lucifer’s face. Everyone followed the trajectory back to Mammon, who at least had the good sense to look a little worried.

“Okay, that was an accid—,”

WHAM.

It happened too fast for you to follow, but you heard the sound of an impact, and then Mammon was no longer standing.

“Jesus.” You scooched a little closer to Beel. Decapitation via pillow was not high on your list of ways to die.

This likely would have put an end to things, if Diavolo hadn’t chosen that moment to appear as well (drawn, you had to guess, by the simple desire to see what Lucifer was doing). He saw Levi and Asmo still clutching their pillows and Mammon sprawled out on the floor and his eyes lit up.

“Ah! I was hoping for something like this!” He bounded in and grabbed a pillow for himself, grinning at Lucifer.

Lucifer gave him a tired look. “Please don’t encourage them.”

“Oh, it’s all in good fun!”

“I’d rather not—,”

Diavolo swung the pillow into Lucifer hard enough to make him stumble. You failed to stifle a laugh, but Diavolo was also laughing, so you were probably safe.

Everyone else took that as permission to continue. Lucifer, forced to defend himself, reluctantly took up arms, though as he got more involved, he almost seemed to be suppressing a smile. Beel was kind enough to stay on the floor with you and act as a bodyguard so you could watch the fun without getting knocked unconscious. At one point, he caught a stray pillow that would have smacked you right in the face.

You grabbed it before anyone else could snatch it back up. “Will you cover me for a second?”

He nodded. You got to your feet, clutching the battered pillow in a firm grip, ran straight to Lucifer, and slammed it into him as hard as you could. The mildly annoyed glance you got in return suggested that it was not very hard at all. You kept going, beating on him at full force, at first with some genuine hostility—really, what better chance would you get to take out your frustration on him—but gradually dissolving into laughter. Lucifer obviously recognized it would not be a good look for him to strike you back, even playfully, so you got away with your attack scot-free.

The fight wore on, only slowing once Barbatos came to usher Diavolo to bed, which Lucifer also used as an opportunity to escape, then ending for good when most of the pillows finally gave out. Black, feathery fluff covered the room like dark snow. You picked a few bits from Mammon’s hair as he flopped back next to you on one of the beds, where you sat catching your breath.

Satan and Asmo eventually left, and you meant to, as well, but once Beel sat down on your other side, you were just so comfy. Levi went back to playing video games, with Mammon scrolling idly on his phone and Beel content to just watch, and before you knew it you were dozing off.

You woke once, just briefly, before the next morning. The room was dark, lit only by the glow of Levi’s TV, the volume turned low as he continued to game late into the night. Mammon and Beel remained on either side of you. The warm weight of their bodies pressed close—an arm draped across you, a leg thrown over yours. Nestled between them, lulled by the steady rhythm of their breathing, you quickly drifted back into what might have been your most comfortable sleep since arriving in the Devildom.