Prumby

"Why the hell are you screaming?!" Belphie, who was napping under the coffee table, grumbles in annoyance as he shoves his face into the pillow and pulls the sides up to cover his ears.

Asmo stands up on the couch, screaming like a damsel in distress. "A MOUSE—! WHY IS IT MOVING LIKE THAT—LUCIFER—!!!"

Footsteps thunder down the hall as Beel comes to Asmo's aid. "Why are you screaming like that?" He looks down at you, and you both have a staring contest for a few seconds. "Oh."

You know that look on Beel all too well. So, you make the wise decision to run before he can turn you into a mouse kebab.

'Nope, not today', you think to yourself as you narrowly escape Beel lunging at you. You zip across the floor, running over a very startled Belphie. You masterfully slip between Satan’s legs (who had just reached the site of chaos). “What is all this noi… what—” The stair case is so close. If only you could find Lucifer— You feel yourself bump into something, before being lifted into the air. You come face to face with Mammon. You frantically wave your little paws at him. Maybe he'll understand you. "This is what scared ya?", he says in a bored manner. "I’m tossin’ this thing out—OUCH WHAT THE HELL?!" Mammon clutches his hand, rubbing the area where you bit him, as you fall out of his grasp and make a mad-dash up the stairs, towards Lucifer's room.

You vault over Levi's feet as he cracks his door open. “Can you all shut up I’m trying to—AHH!!"

And then a thought enters your mind. If none of the brothers, even Mammon, can recognize you, what are the chances that Lucifer will? And if Lucifer caught you, there would be no escape. You pause for a second and change your trajectory, running toward sthe other end of the hall instead. Maybe you should hide out in your room. Try and use your D.D.D to contact Solomon. Thankfully, you left the door open. You slip into your room and climb up your desk in an attempt to find your D.D.D. And you nearly cry with relief when you do find it lying next to your homework. You manage to put in your password and unlock it. Now, to open the messaging app—

Mammon bursts in. "Hey, get outta' MC's room!!" "Wait, it's using their D.D.D??", Levi follows in after. "Look, it's typing something!!", says Asmo, peeking out from behind Satan. You have managed to open one of the brother's chat and type out your name. It took quite some effort to reach the keys with your short hands but you finally sit down with relief when you see realization flash in the brothers' eyes. "Wait...MC??" begins Beel. You squeak at him angrily. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you." He looks like a sad puppy now. Mammon looks equally as guilty. You can't help but forgive them.

"Jump twice if you're MC", says Belphie, now wide awake. You jump in spot twice. "Spin." He says with that shit-eating grin. You spin around, glaring up at him. "Hmm, still not convincing enough. Squeak three times." "Oi, stop messing with them." Mammon lightly smacks the back of Belphie's head.

"Now that I think about it, they’re kind of cute!", Asmo leans in, eyes sparkling . You glare at him like 'Really, bitch? You were the one screaming your lungs out a few seconds ago.' The fifth-born pays no heed as he scoops you up in his palms, cooing at you. "Ooooh, you'd look so cute with a little bow!"

“Put them down,” Satan said sharply, eyes narrowed. You feel anger radiate off of him. Asmo doesn't take chances.

“Who dared to put a curse on you? I’ll make them—” continues Satan.

You hang your head low in shame.

Satan pauses, his anger dissipating and turning into...amusement? Maybe a bit of disappointment? "You did this to yourself, didn't you?"

You squeak pitifully.

Lucifer enters the room, annoyed beyond measure. “What is the meaning of all this chaos? Why is there a rat on MC's desk?"

He takes a look at the scene. The message written on the D.D.D. The oddly calm mouse on the desk.

He looks at his brothers.

Their faces clearly answer: Yes, Lucifer. It is exactly what you think it is.

You squeak again.

Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose. "...wonderful."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mammon has never walked so carefully in his life. You are asleep in the front pocket of his jacket, curled up into the softest little ball. Mammon is trying very hard not to jostle you. Asmo peaks into Mammon’s pocket every once in a while to coo at you, only to be swatted away by the second-born. “They’re sleepin’, be quiet!”

The seven reach purgatory hall. Lucifer presses the door bell. You wake up from your slumber and poke your head out of the pocket and are met with the sight of Solomon looking directly at you while Lucifer explains what's going on.

Solomon takes you in his hand as you climb out of Mammon's pocket.

“Oh my, look at you!” Solomon brings you up to his face, eyes lighting up. “Do you have any idea how hard it is not to squeal?” "Please don't", says Belphie.

"Just fix 'em up quickly. No shady business", warns Mammon.

Lucifer looks at you, comfortable in Solomon's palm. "I trust that you will help turn them back without further... complications."

"When have I ever caused any trouble, huh?", Solomon smiles at the group. They give him very unimpressed looks before Solomon pushes them all out of Purgatory Hall, their complaints falling of deaf ears. Mammon lingered the longest, only relenting when you looked up at him reassuringly. The door shuts. Solomon looks down at you, eyes sparkling with amusement. He slowly lifts his palms up, lifting you up along with them. "Behold my mighty apprentice, feared across realms."

You stare at him.

Oh, you were adorable. Maybe he'll keep you like this for a short while, just to have fun.

You accept your fate. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ You have escaped Solomon's study, like a professional mouse, because you have ✨priorities✨. You were definitely not going to lose this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You navigate around Purgatory hall with your tiny little feet skittering on the ground till you find what you were looking for. Or rather, who you were looking for.

Simeon feels something soft bump into his leg. He looks down and sees a little mouse looking up at him with...familiarity? "Oh. Hello there, little one."

You squeal internally.

You climb onto the couch and press your head against his arm.

Simeon laughs quietly, putting down his book. “Well, aren’t you affectionate?"

Simeon gently rubs your head with a finger. You stand up on two legs and place your paws on his hand. "You must like attention." He gently scoops you up and strokes your fur. You immediately melt into his palm. Oh. Yes. This was the good stuff.

And that's how Solomon finds you fifteen minutes later. Absolutely basking in the angel's affections.

"Oh, I see. So this is what betrayal feels like."

You jump up at Solomon's voice, making Simeon gently pat you in an attempt to calm you down. "Hello, Solomon. I found this little mouse wandering around. They’re very polite. A little angel, really."

"Is that so?", replies Solomon as he pries you away from Simeon. You try to wriggle out of his hands and back to Simeon's, but to no avail.

"Does it happen to be yours?", asks Simeon.

"Well, it does happen to be my apprentice."

"Apprentice...?"

Simeon takes a closer look at you. You try to hide your face. "MC?" Simeon blinks once; then laughs, warm and surprised. “Oh my. That explains the affectionate behaviour."

"Imagine my heartbreak. One moment they’re safely with me, and the next I discover they’ve abandoned their dear teacher to go snuggle with an angel. Do humans not suit you anymore, my dear apprentice?"

As much as you love and appreciated Solomon, you do feel like punching him right now. But you can't really do that in this form, can you? So, you resort to glaring instead.

"How did this happen? Them turning into a mouse, I mean.” asks Simeon. "Hmm, that's what I'd love to know too." Solomon looks down at your angry little face as he says that. "Hey, stop looking at me like that. Not my fault you got caught being a simp."

"What does that mean? 'Simp'?"

You glare harder, daring Solomon to say anything else embarrassing. "Someone who is very...affectionate, let's say." Solomon replies. "Ah, I see. MC does, indeed, appear to be a 'simp', then."

Solomon does a very good job holding back his laugh as you let out a mortified sound. "Anyways, we will take our leave. I still need to find a cure to this." He says finally. "Yes, that's important. Take care, both of you." Simeon resumes to reading his book as Solomon carries you out of Purgatory Hall and into the Devildom street.

You squeak at Solomon with confusion. What is he up to now?

"You know, I'm kind of hurt", says Solomon, with exaggerated dramatics. "Leaving me all alone to go snuggle up to Simeon. Especially after I spend hours working hard and trying to find a cure for you. Truly heartless."

You give him your best puppy—er—mouse eyes (?).

"Ah, how can I stay mad at that face? But, I can't really let go of what happened. You still need to make it up to me, you know?"

Solomon puts you on his shoulder, earning a few curious looks from demons going about their day.

"Oh, don't worry, my dearest apprentice. I'll only have a bit of harmless fun."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Barbatos' eye twitches as he looks at Solomon, and you, comfortably perched on his shoulder. "Why", he begins, voice laced with absolute disgust, "have you brought that thing here?"

If looks could kill, you'd be a dead mouse by now.

"Please remove it immediately."

“Oh, come now. They’re harmless. Would you like to hold them?” Says Solomons, as be brings you closer to the butler. You feel the urge to hide in Solomon's sleeves.

Barbatos goes rigid. “I despise r— 'you-know-what's,” he says evenly.

"Now, now, that is no way to talk about my dear apprentice. Also, they’re a mouse, not a rat."

"...Apprentice?" Barbatos finally takes a closer look at you. "I see."

He takes a step back, eyes glowing with ancient power. “Then there is no need for this nonsense.” Time seems to warp around you, and a second later, you find yourself sitting on the floor back in your human form. You were unharmed, albeit a bit dizzy. Barbatos helps you up. "I was having so much fun. And you just had to go and do that..." Solomon says in a disappointed manner. "Still, I guess it is quite a rare opportunity to see the Barbatos perform his time magic."

Barbatos chooses to ignore Solomon, instead checking on you to ensure you were feeling alright.

As fun as it was seeing the rather stoic butler try so hard to maintain his composure, you do feel kind of guilty. “Barbatos, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” you say sheepishly.

“It is forgiven,” he says immediately. "I was just preparing tea for the Young Master. Would you like to join him? I'm sure he would be delighted" "How come I never get invi—" begins Solomon.

“Solomon, you may take your leave now.”

Solomon sighs dramatically. “You ruin all my fun.”

A/N: Locked in so hard that I didn't even realize how long this became. Just sat here for three hours straight. This might be the most random fic I've written yet. But hey, I thinks it's pretty cute and i got to write all my favourite characters in one fic so yay.

[As per the results of the poll, i decided to keep this as one single post]

Solomon watching Barbietoes and Mouse!MC interact be like:

Asmo flicks your forehead gently. “Remember to put Lord before his name or Lucifer won’t let you hear the end of it.”

You’re mouthing off plans already, putting up camp next to the Inferno river you were taught about in Devildom Geography, picking berries and hunting deer, roasting marshmallows by the fire and being all cozy in the bed. And what after that? They both want to ask you. You’ll leave after that and it would be so cruel.

They don’t interject, only add to your plans with specifications about the activities and sleeping arrangements. Awfully possessive and specific demons, they are.

You drag Lucifer and Satan to the Devildom night market to get some more trinkets and snacks. You ignore the glances they throw at each other, knowing that they’ve grown tolerable of each other’s presence, able to cooperate and work beautifully, albeit not without some disagreements.

And so, what better way than to drag them both with you outside?

“I want two Iguana plushies.” You demand, pointing at one which hangs in a stall amidst countless others, a prize for winning. Shoot all the moving targets and you win one! The board reads, and the duo sighs.

“It’s ugly.” Satan says. 

“It looks…..wrong.” Lucifer adds.

You pull at Lucifer and Satan’s arms, dragging them towards the stall. More like, they let you drag them. “Please?” Your best pleading gaze is on.

You are human, and no match for the games the Devildom has, which have prerequisites of inhumane speed and strength, and targets which move in nanoseconds. But you have two Avatars with you. And you have two pacts with them. 

All right, all right, demanding human. 

They work together in sync, handing you the two plushies as you had desired like a war prize, two giant Iguanas which are so soft to the touch. Your face gets nearly covered by them as you smile and thank them.

Satan clicks a picture without you noticing, too caught up in admiring the prize. The sound of the shutter is lost amidst the cacophony of the market. When he puts his D.D.D. back in his pocket it vibrates with the flurry of texts his brothers have sent at the picture they received.

Even Lucifer’s oddly silent, having made no smart-ass comment to the blonde demon which never fails to irk him. His scarlet eyes only look at you, imperceptive. 

He’s not at peace with the inevitable departure of the exchange student either, and when he looks away he locks eyes with his brother.

Nods, after.

Don’t you know, superordinate goals bring people together?

“Thank you so much, Satan and Lucifer,” you begin, putting the coveted plushies in a bag, which Lucifer takes from you without letting you adjust it on your shoulder. Carries it himself. “I’m so happy you came here with me.”

You drag them to get matching keychains after, lacquered ones with color matching their sins. You get some extras too, of hellfire peacocks and unicorns, sirens and dunes.

“Whom are you getting them for?” Satan can’t help but attempt to satisfy his curiosity. 

“I have people apart from you, you know?” You say, light-hearted in your tone as you tuck those very keychains into your handbag. The blonde’s silence is strange. “Oh—I didn’t mean it in that way, Satan. I have friends who like to collect keychains, y’know, hobbies, and they’re just something all of us can use everyday and think of each other.”

“I don’t mind.” He smiles.

All of us include the people from your realm too. All of us for his brethren in this realm includes you too. And they don’t want to put them in jeopardy.

The conversation’s left at that, with the walk back home including cotton candy dyed in the color of the rainbow purchased by Lucifer. He and Satan hold around four in each hand, two for Beelzebub because the first will be consumed without actually tasting it. You only hold your handbag and your cotton candy, offering to hold some of the others, but their refusals are stout. Your keychains clink together, and triumph is evident on your face. Your tongue is a plethora of colors now. 

All of his brothers take their cotton candy from him as soon as you three arrive home, the creaking of the gates preceding your arrival. 

“Whatcha got for me?” They all ask Lucifer, and you make a reminder to change his name to Mommy in your contacts. Mother hen alert, you’ll put in the description. Maybe share the contact card with Diavolo. 

He’d appreciate it. Greatly.

While the corners of their mouths have cotton candy stuck to them, you pull out the keychains and watch as their heads dart towards the sound of them in tandem. 

“I,uh, got you all keychains.” You say, suddenly feelish sheepish as you hold them in your outstretched hands for them to take. Their eyes dilate at the glinting trinkets. 

Faced with no response, you continue further. “Before I leave, I wanted to give you all something.”

Uh-oh, nail hit on the head.

“That’s—that’s very sweet of you!” Asmo’s the first to break the silence, rushing forward to grab his. All are distinguishable by color and sin. “The scorpion is so pretty!” He picks it up and immediately puts it in his pocket. Beelzebub quietly comes forward, both the cotton candies and sticks devoured; picks up his. 

“....Cute.” He murmurs, and the tip of his ears turn pink. “It’s really cute. Thank you, MC.”

You look towards the others, waiting for them to come and pick up their gifts.

Mammon strides forward then, picks up the shiniest of the bunch with golden highlights; then rubs his thumb over it. “Hehe, human knows my tastes!” Though it comes out less prideful and more flustered, and if you’d look later you would find it dangling from his backpack. Leviathan comes forward to take his, along with Belpeghor. When his fingers make contact with your palms as he grabs it, the warmth of your skin nearly has him purring.

“Woaahhh! This is so cool!” The third-born exclaims, holding his close to his face. It’s a Devilcraft keychain. “Otaku approved!” 

Belpheghor’s eyes are half-lidded as he inspects his; stick still in his mouth. His finger runs along the edges, and then he looks up at you, eyes no longer droopy. “Thank you.” He says, and two dimples appear on his cheeks when he smiles. You’re reminded of how rare such an occurrence is.

You have already given Satan and Lucifer their respective keychains, who now hold it in their hands like a trophy. “So, now that everyone’s gotten their stuff, I’m going to go and take a shower.” You cough, suddenly feeling awkward. You stride past the stunned demons, and look behind from the kitchen to wave at the eldest. “Thanks for the cotton candy, Lu!”

At the nickname, he winces. 

Shakes his head and softly smiles.

There’s a gaming console in his room which will soon be put away.

Raids and events will now be long distance, and sometimes, not at all. You’ll have friends, flesh and blood friends to meet and hang out with, instead of avatars and calls. He has to bite back at the envy clawing in his chest, he can’t help it. Your presence is something virtual avatars and video calls can only replicate so much. This time, 3D is better than 2D. 

But at least he can indulge in some more events with you.

You’re sitting by his side, fingers flexing quickly on the buttons, and he has to keysmash his own to keep up. Beelzebub and Belpheghor are here too, the latter napping on his pillow while the chews on some chips and watches. Belphie makes a smart-ass comment here and there, and you laugh at one.

What a terrible thing it is.

Stretch out your legs from their criss-crossed position, right onto Beel’s lap. His free hand not dusted with crisps moves to massage your feet, pressing lightly on the joints and along the delicate arches. And they’re such small feet in his hands, gluttony observes. Shoves some more chips into his mouth and watches as the light from the aquarium reveals the map of veins underneath. It would be so easy to grab you and never let go (he might just crush you if he’s not careful) but he never would. It’s not right.

Not right.

But it isn’t right to see you leave either. Buutttt, people leave eventually, don’t they? Offsprings and kin spread out their wings and jump, test the waters and calculate how far they can fly.

Belpheghor’s half-awake too, and when Beel steals a glance at his twin he’s met with his own conundrum. He’d encourage, always would. Belpheghor’s been like that always. Grab what you want and don’t hesitate. Speak out when you believe you are correct and don’t let anyone prevent you from doing something you want to, if you firmly believe in your convictions. But it’s not something like a snack or a decision. It’s you.

Their treasured human.

So Beelzebub shakes his head. The game over sound pops up, and you hiss. Belpheghor closes his eyes and lets his head fall on the cow-print pillow.

The idea’s left abandoned for now.

You get up some time later, when your feet have stopped throbbing from standing all day and retire to your room for a nap, after having thanked Beelzebub, of course. Your belongings are half-packed already, even when there’s still two weeks left for your departure. You came here with nothing, but you leave with so much. Can’t be packed in one day, because you want to spend the last moments here with your demons.

Mammon wakes you up for tea, drags the blankets from your form and pulls you up by the arm with a loud ahem! You grumble and haphazardly find your slippers and walk towards the living room. 

He watches you stumble towards the room, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Looks around your room only to see half-packed suitcases. Ah, that’s why you had those Akuzon boxes by your door. But all they do is declare your eventual departure.

He really, really wants to sabotage it all.

“Mammon, where are you?” 

Your voice echoes in the hallway, and he has to detach. “Coming, jeez!”

Tea and banter provides for a good distraction, better than casinos and clubs. For the time being, anyways. Cookies and tea he can digest better. He sneaks one from your hands when you’re busy poking at Belpheghor, and giggles when you make a face at him. You haven’t bothered fixing your bedhead, hairs ruffled in every direction, and Satan threads his fingers through your hair to tame it as you sip your tea.

“End semester exams are coming soon, I expect you all to average in the eighties.”

Lucifer speaks, perched on his favourite chair. The nineties was too idealistic of a goal, he had to tone it down to the eighty. “We need to put forward a good example, and yes, that includes you too, MC.”

You sigh, angling into Satan’s touch. “I’m going to be leaving anyways, whom do I maintain the impression for?” Everyone stiffens in the room at the mention, you’re busy staring into your cup of liquid honey. It’s not like you can boast your grades in the human world. A plus in potions and hexes, B negative in Devildom Geography, and what not. 

“That the exchange programme was successful.” He stares at you then, and you immediately straighten your posture. You look so cute, he thinks, hair ruffled and an embarrassed look on your face, lips almost in a pout. He feels benevolent, so he opens his mouth further. “If the results are as expected, a trip to the mountains may be planned.”

The cacophony of noises greets his ears after; Mammon nearly makes him lose his hearing given how loud he exclaims next to him. “You’re not joking, are ya?!”

Lucifer raises a finger to shush everyone, though it’s not completely successful. “If good grades come in.”

“You wanted a trip to the mountains right, you got it!” Asmo speaks across you, his cup now empty. “We should go before the summer dries up everything.”

You smile. “Yeah. I’ll take my camera along too, plenty of pictures to keep later. Can tell my family and friends I was on a trip instead of being teleported between realms.”

Satan is the one to speak up next. “How who cross out who are you friends in that realm?” 

You shake your head. “They’re doing good. Though I’ll be contacting them after a year.” A pause. “I wonder how they will react.”

“Lord Diavolo had ensured to send a message to your family that you were doing alright, along with the date you would be coming back. There’s no need to wonder, I suppose.” The eldest adds, putting down his cup.

You make a noise of understanding. Look up at him with a shrug. “I know, plus since many of them are married and busy in their work life we don’t get much time to interact.”

“...Is marriage at your age common?” Leviathan asks, and his tone belies his hesitance.

“Human world customs, yes. Adulthood, especially your mid twenties is the age where societal norms expect people to get together. Though it differs, and many are changing the status quo.”

You take the last sip of your now lukewarm tea. “Are you going to get married?” Beelzebub asks suddenly, and you nearly sent the liquid down the wrong way.

“Uh–no, not now!” You place the ceramic with a soft clang on the wood. “I don’t have any plans to get married anytime soon. Not right now.” All the seven heads in the room have their eyes fixed on you. You think you hear someone exhaling.

Eager to forget your skittish response, you add without thinking. “Have you guys ever thought of marriage?”

“To whom?” Lucifer says, more than asking.

Mammon sputters while Levi looks like he just inhaled something down the wrong pipe, Satan hides his face while trying to appear unaffected and Asmodeus just smiles at you. Beelzebub has pink dusting his cheeks while Belpheghor snorts.

You feel like you’ve asked the wrong beings.

Do demons even marry?

“We can get married.” Beel says. “We simply choose not too.”

“Yeah. Why to go and tie ourselves to others we aren’t even that close with?” Belphie says.

Someone snickers. “Lucifer and Diavolo should–”

“Hooligans, all of you. Rascals!” 

And the tension has been pushed back down again.

There’s a week left for your departure.

And one more pact left to be made.

It should emerge on one of your shoulders, Lucifer thinks. Evident and bold, ready to flare to life when needed. And he can’t help the way a shiver runs through his body at the thought of you with his mark. The leash tied to both of you, command only switching.

But would his and his brothers' pacts guarantee your return? Fix it with a seal and a sign that you will come back, without having settled down. Be a staple in their lives.

They all do want you to be happy.

But they can’t stand the idea of you being with someone else.

Nausea rises in his gut at the thought, and he swallows it down. You’ll go back and find someone, someone mortal and then forever be away from him and his brothers. You’ll learn and grow but he won’t be there to see it. Won’t be there to puff out his chest with pride and have you be not with him.

Luckily, morality is a fickle thing in this realm.

He could make a pact with you, tie you down to this realm. Lucifer feels his cock twitch in his pants at the thought. Ensure with his mark on you, you’d never leave, too tainted to go back. But again, you could always order him to let you go.

But would you even do that?

Little lamb, content on following the shepherd with its flock. Even if the shepherd is a corrupted one. You just need guidance.

And he’s more than eager to lead.

His decisions have never been filled with regret. Only regret for not revolting sooner. He’s traded loyalty for rebirth and paying for it has never been better. And if you hate him for it, well, he can live with that. He’s handled his brother's hatred, he can handle yours. 

He only wants what is the best for you.

And he knows better. Lucifer always knows better.

May arrives steadily.

The moon shines a bit brighter, illuminating the streets better. Nightlamps are deemed unnecessary. Everyone wears a piece of clothing less: some abandoned their overcoat, others their scarves and shawls. Siren beach has greater footfall and greater prey. Colossal squids and hellfire fish are in trend on your Devilgram. 

But for you it means departure and a Sun which makes the warmth on your skin feel like a blessing.

Your belongings are packed; Beel has carried them all the way despite your protests. They’re heavy, you had said, and to just use the handle and wheels (he’d picked it up like it was an empty cardboard box) and you had shut your mouth. Sometimes you forget you live with inhumane beings. Neatly settled in the Council Room, Solomon sits besides you. Simeon and Luke across, Barbatos stands behind Diavolo, who sits on the throne.

“You look excited.” Simeon smiles as he looks in your direction, and Luke perks up at the sound. Only the top of his head is visible, given the table is too tall for him. Barbatos had offered pillows for a boost but the cherub had pouted.

“I can’t wait to do more baking lessons with you whenever we meet!” Luke chimes in, and you have to hold back laughter because you can only see his head bobbing. 

“Me too!” You breathe out, leaning forward to pet his head, sitting back down with a grunt. 

Diavolo clears his throat, and the chatter in the room pauses. “With this being our last day of the exchange programme and this semester, we conclude that it was a great success. Contact has greatly facilitated understanding and cooperation, and I hope we can meet again.”

Everyone is presented with their certificates; and when Barbatos hands you yours the faint scent of cedarwood comes to your mind. 

“It’s valid in the human world,” Diavolo adds, and you perk your head up to look at his hulking form. “You can explain your year spent here as a study leave.” His eyes are kind.

“Thank you, Diavolo.” You smile, and unfurl the certificate’s blood-red ribbon to read it over. Stamped with the royal seal and his signature, you think about uploading this on Linkedin. While you’re looking it over, Solomon merely takes his and puts it in his bag, leather and very expensive-looking. Simeon holds Luke’s too.

Final formalities are carried out.

You keep fiddling with the ribbon on your certificate, twirling it around your finger and shaking your legs under the table. Accidentally kicking Simeon in the knees too, who takes it with grace.

And if they look closely, they’ll see the faint purple scattered across the junction of your neck, covered by concealer. The first-born’s pact mark on your shoulder, hidden by your clothing. Everyone knows better than to point it out (although Solomon’s itching to ask you as to what was your modus operandi, he’s been trying for centuries for one with Lucifer.) And how you keep avoiding Lucifer’s gaze whenever you meet it.

Then Diavolo stands, and with him, the rest of the table does too.

He mutters an incantation, and you blink and the front of the council room has a giant hole in the middle of it, rotating with sparks of gold and red. 

Your door to your realm of earth and sun and moon.

“I hope we do meet again.” Simeon and Luke say, and you hug them both. The former always smells so sweet, and the latter like vanilla. Probably had dabbled with it last night while baking cookies that he had given you in a container for you to take back to your home.

 “I’ll miss you both,” you whisper into their ear as you both pull apart.

Then they both bow a little at Diavolo, who does the same. Asmodeus mutters about the House of Lords throwing a fuss if they saw their future sovereign doing that action. Belpheghor snorts at that.

And they look behind at you, and then the black-purple mist swallows them whole.

That’s it. No fanfare.

Solomon steps forward before you can with your suitcases. Hugs you tightly and pats your back.

“Take care. I’ll keep visiting.”

You bid him goodbye, and when he's left you turn behind to look at your demons.

“So…this is it, huh?” You begin, clutching your suitcases and shoulder bag. “I’m so happy that I met you. I hope we do meet again.”

They all smile at that, eyes crinkling. 

Turning to Diavolo and Barbatos, you continue. “Thank you for the exchange programme. We wouldn’t have met otherwise.”

Then without waiting for a response, you move towards Mammon, and he opens his arms out, already knowing what you will do. “I wanted a farewell hug, you know?” You tease, enjoying how he tenses and splutters. “My first man, and yet you act so unaffected."

He then finally relaxes into your touch, holding you tighter. “Says the human who was nonchalant from the start.”

You pat his back, standing straight to look at them all again.

“I guess I’ll be going now. Farewell!”

You blink back the tears and turn around towards the portal.

It’s gone.

Only the council room remains.

“What the fuck.” You look at the brothers, then at Diavolo and Barbatos. “I think your magic has fizzled out.”

The prince says nothing.

“All the intended students have left.” Satan declares. “No use of the portal now.”

“Is my semester not over or something? Did I fail an exam?”

“None of that!” Asmodeus chirps. “We just don’t want to see you go.”

You groan. “You do realize I have to leave, right? Can’t keep me here forever no matter how much we wish for it.”

No one moves.

The portal doesn’t remanifest.

“I do not like such jokes–open the portal!” 

Leviathan shakes his head at that in refusal, looking down. “We won’t. We don’t want you to leave. Call us whatever names you want–we can’t–can’t let you leave.” Beelzebub refuses to look you in the eye, and Mammon's face has hardened into a thin line. The others meet you gaze, none of them ashamed or even guilty.

“This better be some sick fucking joke,” you blurt, swallowing the lump in your throat. It doesn’t relent. “Diavolo, why did you close the portal?” Your hands grip the suitcase tighter, and you turn to him.

“You have all of our marks on you, sweetie.” Asmodeus croons, attempting to placate by placing a hand on your shoulder, manicured nails glinting in the light. “All of our pact marks, you’re tied to us now.” You shove his hand away and step back, pushing the suitcase away as it rolls on the floor.

“So is Solomon!”

“Do you think we care for you like Solomon?” Belpheghor pipes in. 

“What kind of ‘care’ is this exactly? Enlighten me!”

You flail, anger burning hot in your body when he doesn’t reply. Your vision blurs, and then you remember.

“.........Avatar of Pride, I call upon you, Luc–”

The avatar in question moves in the fraction of a second. Covers your mouth with his gloved palm, effectively silencing your command halfway.

“Go on, MC.” He mutters. “I’ll remove my hand, and then you may command me to let you leave. Command my brothers too, if I protest.” 

You inhale sharply, staring at him through tear-stricked vision.

“But then what kind of human would you be if you were to use our pacts against us?” A cruel human, that is. “You’d promised. And we only want you here with us, nothing more.”

Your trembling subsides. 

You blink back the tears, effectively silenced into keeping your mouth shut.

Lucifer removes his palm.

And then you speak.

“To let me leave–”

And then Diavolo laughs.

“You were right, Lucifer. Our little lamb is more demonic than we had assumed.” He chuckles, and even Barbatos is doing that too. Amber eyes burn holes into you. Your voice dies in your throat along with your hope. “So feisty too!”

Satan’s the next to speak. “You were ready to order us to let you go, use our pacts against us. You’ve made it clear you’d turn on us if given the chance, so we figured we’d test and try harder.” You find your own sobs reaching your ears. “And it seems we’ve succeeded.”

Tears run down your face, salty on your tongue.

"You're just like us, actually, better!"

The sunlight on your face, the warmth of it on your skin, the chirping of birds and the earth underneath your feet–

“Metamorphosis should begin in a couple months from now.” He’s saying, though it rings in your ears. You can only cry harder and fall to your knees. He keeps speaking above you like a cruel jailor. “I wonder whether it’ll be wings or a tail.”

That’s why Solomon said what he did.

He knew.

Someone angles your chin up, and you meet crimson eyes. So full of love.

“Don’t fret. We’ll be here for you. As you have been for us.”

Mammon

Mammon moaned out about having to “baby sit” until his golden blue eyes met yours. his breath caught in his throat as his heart pounded in his ears, a strange “bsst” sound like electricity echoing in his head. 

you were so thrown off you stumbled back, almost falling to the floor, but a pair of arms reached out to steady you. Mammon was panting as though he'd just run a marathon as his left hand held your arm and his right rested on your waist. 

“...ya heard that to right?” his voice was a whisper, a shaking sound in his voice. when you nodded, you heard a small “fuck” from the demon and he pulled you into a gentle hug. while you barely knew the demon, his arms felt safe and warm. 

“cmon, I need to show ya ‘round at least.” he sighed, but pulled you along deeper into the house. 

Mammon would explain to you what the “zing” was. he’d be embarrassed and refuse to look you in the eye the whole time, his tsundere persona still at a head. but, he'd be much quicker to take your safety seriously. 

he refuses to let you out of his sight for to long, you are a human, and how delicate you are he is hyper aware of. if you except him, it won't take long before he's practically your boyfriend. 

or actually your boyfriend, but you’ll have to ask. his shy tsundere personality is far to frightened you'd push him away. 

Leviathan

oh dear, lets say since he’s pretty eye contact averse in my headcannons anyway, that he never meets your gaze until you’ve beaten him in the TSL trivia challenge. 

Levi’s shoulders shake as his tail whips wildly, a yell of outrage emanating from him as you try and duck away. Levi raises his head, eyes a toxic orange as he aims his tail to attack you, and the otaku meets your gaze for the first time. 

a buzzing like a rattle snake echos in your head. you jump and raise your hands over your face, thinking its some strange ability of the demon, when everything stops. 

Levi is stunned and shaky and he just, runs. he bolts out of the room without ever looking back. no one can find him for two days. he's not in his room, not at RAD, and the brothers have turned the house of Lamentation upside down to find him. no luck. 

when you tell Mammon what happened he pieces it together and explains to you what a “zing” is. Levi returns late in the evening, slinking quietly into the safety of his room. if you wait for him there, make sure you stay hidden until he's far enough in the room for you to get between him and the door. because he will try and run away again. 

his face is red under his fringe and hands, trying to make himself small and hide from you. he's terrified of you. not only did he let his jealously get the better of him but he nearly killed his soulmate. 

if you manage to get the demon to speak he's going to word vomit a variety of apologies, self deprecation, and hatred between tears and hiccups. he’ll beg on his knees, blubbering that a disgusting, shut in, weirdo, otaku like him doesn't deserve your forgiveness. 

Satan

your “zing” with Satan accrued in the library, of course. it was only a couple days after you'd come to the devildom. he snuck up on you, causing you to jump when he asked you what you were looking for. 

his face was just over your shoulder as you turned and backed up against the bookshelf, the sadistic satisfaction on his face changing to surprise as the sound of a “hisss” rang in your ears.

“MC?” he questioned. “did you just hiss at me?”

“no! you heard that too right?” you looked around trying to find the source of the sound. it was then it dawned on him what actually happened. 

Satan was conflicted like Lucifer. he refrained from talking to you about it for a while. it was only when you sought him out for a pact he brought it up. to his surprise you were already aware, having asked Asmo and Mammon about it.

when he asked why you didn't come to him about it, you replied, believing he didn't want to talk about it since he'd left quickly after the incident and had avoided you since. 

Asmodeus

Asmo’s curiosity with you lead to your “zing” also taking place quickly. you had run into the demon on the way to the dining room on your first day. you'd nearly bumped into him, his eyes glued to his D.D.D. and yours noting the wallpaper on the molding of the hallways in the house of Lamentation. 

“hey! watch where you’re going human!” he screeched, dramatically stepping aside and turning to send you a glare. the glare never came as when your eyes met a gasping sound ringing in your ears.

you placed a hand over your mouth, thinking it had been you. quickly scrambling to apologize to the shocked demon. Asmo stopped you, placing his D.D.D. in his pocket and grabbing you by the shoulders. 

he shook you lightly, eyebrows furrowed. 

“you simply cannot be serious.” he muttered to himself before letting out a sigh. “come with me, we need to chat.” there was an underlying threat in his words as he dragged you by the wrist back to his room. give him a mouth or so, he’ll fall for you faster then he’d like to admit. 

Beelzebub

hes a naturally gentle creature, so when he looks up from his rummaging through the fridge late one evening, he is met with your curious eyes. a shiver runs down your spine as you here a humming noise, one you can only describe like the purr of a cicada. 

Beel stiffened. oh, oooh. so that's what a “zing” feels like.

he blinks at you, not saying a word for a moment. 

“...are you okay?” he asks.

“did you hear that?” you ask in unison. he blinks at you again. 

“yeah, yeah I did.” he nods. closing the fridge, his appetite abandoned. he stood to his full hight, running his hands though his hair in slight embarrassment. 

“do you know what it was?” you asked. he bit his lip, before nodding again.

“yeah, but... this may sound strange but I need you to listen to me, okay?” and with that, you now have a very large, sweet, hungry demon at your side. 

Belphagor

well, it looks like your luck has run dry. Belphie immediately ignores the thumping sound that rings in each of your ears the first time your eyes meet. he probably even gaslights you into thinking it was in your head. 

he's fully aware of the “zing” but he's so angry and blinded by his own lust for revenge it only fuels his hatred for humanity. he won't tell you anything, but he will use the fact of just how drawn to him you are. 

you cannot get the dark haired demon out of your mind, and your heart races a little each time you see him. his smile is warm every time he sees you. and even Belphie cannot deny the raw chemistry between the pair of you. 

he finds himself aching for your company, but he tries to just add it like logs onto the fire of his heartbreak and trauma. 

half of his heart longs for you, to hold you in his arms. but his mind is dark and clouded, scolding him for “replacing” his baby sister with you. he will refuse to care about you, believing it would be betraying his care for his lost sister.