“Well, that was something,” you say after you’re sure Barbatos has disappeared back down the hall.
“It was,” Mammon confirms, flopping down onto your bed. “And it’s only going to get worse from here on out. The only reason everyone was so polite was because Diavolo was there. I’ll bet my bottom dollar that tomorrow Lucifer or one of the others are gonna try to getcha alone and put you through the ringer.”
“Yeah, probably,” you say, remembering how you’d been stared down. “But I’m going to try to get Solomon alone to put him through the ringer. That bastard’s got a lot to answer for.”
“Hell yeah, he does.” Mammon sighs, spreading all of his limbs out like a starfish. “But to be honest, all of tonight went better than I thought it would.”
“What exactly did you think was going to happen?” you question, and Mammon makes a face.
“For Lucifer to cart me home and string me upside down in the foyer.”
After a moment, when you don’t reply, he looks over at you.
“Seriously?” you manage. “He does that?”
Mammon snorts. “Only if he can catch me.”
His answer, while not very reassuring, is a clear sign he doesn’t want to continue the conversation so you drop the subject, digging through your bag for some pajamas. Heading to the bathroom you’d freshened up in earlier, you change and brush your teeth. Mammon does the same after you’re finished, emerging in a pair of low-slung sweatpants.
“No shirt?” you ask, swallowing. Seeing him like this reminds you of his demon form, and oh, you need to convince him to switch back to it sometime soon. Scientific interest, you could claim.
“I figured it was better than me sleeping in the nude. Is it gonna bother you?” Mammon asks wryly, and you shake your head. The last thing you want is for him to put a shirt on, but you can’t very well tell him that.
“I call dibs on the left side of the bed,” you inform him, hugging the pillow you’ve deemed as yours defensively.
“What if I wanted the left side?” Mammon questions, and you raise your eyebrows.
“Well, then I guess you’d just have to suffer.”
He cracks a smile at that, sitting down on his side of the bed. A comfortable silence envelopes you, and you busy yourself with scrolling on your phone, not quite ready to sleep. You know you should probably talk to him more about tomorrow, figure out a game plan, but that seems like a lot of effort and truthfully, you’re not feeling it. Maybe you're overestimating yourself, but today went well, and that was the hardest part. They’ve swallowed the initial lie and now all you and Mammon have to do is keep it up.
And look for a way to break the binding.
You haven’t really talked about what’ll happen when you manage such a thing. You can only assume he’ll continue to have a pact with you, or at least, that’s what you hope, but you don’t know if anything will change. His family probably won’t like you- you’ll be known as the human that broke his heart, and you can’t imagine he’ll be up in the human realm all that often. The thought makes you a little sad. Even though it hasn’t been that long since you summoned him into your kitchen, he already feels like he’s been there forever, like he’s a natural part of your life.
Giving him up, even if it’s not for good, will be hard.
God, you feel selfish for even thinking that. Mammon is a demon with a life, responsibilities. And it was your fault that he’d been dragged into this mess anyway. Sure, Solomon had given you the spell but you should have looked into it. As much as you want Mammon to stay with you and for things to continue on as they have been, you know it can’t happen. There’s been an hourglass running ever since you’d gotten the letter summoning you down the Devildom and you’re painfully aware of how fast the time left with him is slipping through your fingers.
“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” Mammon’s voice pulls you from your reverie and you blink, looking over at him.
“Oh, nothing,” you say, forcing a smile. “Just thinking about my shop.”
He doesn’t seem to believe you fully, but as you had earlier, he drops the issue. You turn off the lamp and flip over to your side, facing away from him. He does the same on his side, and soon the only noise in the room is your breathing. You focus on the even rhythm of his, matching the in and exhales, and before you know it, you’re drifting off, unsure if he’s still awake or not.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
When you wake up, it’s slowly, in bits and pieces. The first thing you notice is warmth, then the feeling of a hand pressing against your back. During the night, both you and Mammon have shifted towards the middle of the bed, and you’re now in his arms, head resting on his collarbone. As you turn your head he shifts, eyes fluttering open.
“Good morning,” you say, cracking a smile. He takes in your position, arms involuntarily flexing around you.
“Mornin’,” he replies, voice rough with sleep. He makes no effort to move and you make no effort to distance yourself. Something in the back of your head is sending you warning signs, telling you that you’re going too far, that you and Mammon are on the precipice of something more than your previous friendship, but you ignore them. It’s too early in the morning to feel stressed. “Sleep well?”
“Apparently so, since I seem to have gotten myself a new pillow,” you say, and he laughs, jostling you slightly in the process. “You?”
“I guess I did too. Sorry about grabbing you, I’ve always been a clingy sleeper.”
“No worries.” You relax your head, pressing your cheek into his skin in an exaggerated motion. “Does it look like I mind?”
“No, I guess not,” Mammon replies.
“What’s the plan for today?” you ask, switching gears. “We need access to a library, or Solomon, or something. Something that can help us learn more about the binding spell without arousing suspicion.”
Mammon’s eyes flick away from yours and you suppress the urge to frown. He almost seems shifty.
“Yeah, for sure,” he finally agrees. “Yesterday you said you needed to talk to Solomon, so why don’t you start there? I can try and get my brothers sated and off of our backs. Maybe later I can take ya back to the House of Lamentation under the pretense of showin’ you around and we can hit up the library there.”
You talk for a few more minutes until a knock on the door forces you to roll off of Mammon. Walking to the door, you pull it open, revealing Barbatos.
“Good morning,” he says politely, taking in Mammon, who hasn’t moved, and you, who has very clearly just risen. “I do hope I haven’t woken you. Lord Diavolo sent me to inform you breakfast will be served soon, in a quarter of an hour.”
“Thank you,” you say, giving him a smile. “We’ll be right down.”
He leaves and you and Mammon both make quick work of changing and freshening up. You’re both ready in record time, and Mammon leads you through the halls of the castle towards the dining room. You’re the last to arrive, and food gets brought out right after you sit.
It’s easy enough for the table to sustain small talk, and after you’ve eaten your fill, you corner Solomon.
“Let’s talk after breakfast,” you say pointedly, “catch up some!”
Only Mammon and Solomon are aware of the edge in your tone, the way you’re leaving no room for arguments.
“Definitely,” Solomon agrees warmly, and your teeth hurt from how hard you’re clenching them. Oh, you can’t wait to give him a piece of your mind. “As long as Mammon won’t mind if I steal you away.”
“Hm?” Mammon asks. “Nah, not at all. I gotta catch up with my dear brothers, ain’t that right?” he asks, directing the question at them. Asmodeus looks only too eager to get his hands on Mammon, and you don’t envy his position at all.
After breakfast has been cleared everyone seperates, and you follow Solomon down one of the never-ending halls, past dozens of rooms. The sheer size of Diavolo’s castle is almost incomprehensible.
“I figured you would want some privacy,” Solomon explains as he holds the door leading out into a little greenhouse for you.
“Yes, thank you,” you say frostily, completely dropping the nice act. “Now, Solomon, I’ve got several questions for you, but my first, and most pressing: what in the absolute hell?”
Uncowed, Solomon laughs. “Nice to see that your fiery personality hasn’t changed since meeting Mammon. I was almost afraid the binding, if it worked, would change you. Not much is known about it, I’m afraid.”
“So I was what, your little pet project? Experiment?” you demand.
“Something like that, yes.” Solomon, sensing your rising anger, holds up his hands. “But look, I never expected it to work!”
“Then why did you lie to me?”
It would be a little more bearable if Solomon seemed even a little ashamed of his actions, but he was unrepentant. “Well, would you have really agreed to potentially bind your literal soul to a demon? No, I didn’t think so. And anyway, when I said I never expected it to work, I meant it. The incantation had an infinitesimal chance of success, especially considering the two of you haven’t previously met. In fact, MC, the fact that it has worked is a feat that shall go down in magical history!”
“But Solomon,” you argue, desperate, “I don’t want to go down in magical history! All I wanted was a pact in order to obtain my license, then to live a mostly quiet life running my shop! Now I’ve been thrust into this mess without my consent, without Mammon’s consent. All because of you!”
“I can see how you could feel that way,” he says, diplomatically, and your blood boils.
“Um, yeah, I would fucking hope so! Solomon, I can’t even begin to understand your motivations behind this. Was it a prank? Some sort of revenge on Mammon?”
“No, none of that!” he cuts in quickly. “I know it might seem hard for you to understand it, but I did it for you! I’ve never said this outright, not wanting to raise your hopes for nothing, but MC, you have the makings of a great sorcerer! The thing limiting you was your lack of energy, and while a pact would have sustained that, there was also danger.”
“Danger?” you echo, and he nods seriously.
“Yes. I noticed long ago that there was something interesting about the way you interacted with magical energy. A regular sorcerer has their own reserve and replenishes itself on its own. But you, you sap energy from those around you. Not enough to harm them or anything - I only noticed it because of my prolonged exposure to you - but enough that you can wield it. But since it’s ‘borrowed’ energy, you’re unable to sustain it and it gets burned through quickly. I was fearful that if you made a pact, eventually you’d burn through all of Mammon’s energy due to your unique situation.”
“Okay,” you say, “but what does this have to do with the binding spell?”
“So, since a binding spell transforms the soul and quite literally binds it to the other person's, you and Mammon's energies are now knit. This means that when taking Mammon's energy, you're taking your own as well, which should prevent you from burning through it like I said before." He stops, seeing your confused expression. "How much have you learned about binding spells?” Solomon asks.
“Not much. Mammon and I are trying to gather more information.”
“Mammon is?”
His tone is weird, and you narrow your eyes. “Yes, why? Since neither of us knows all that much, the first step is to learn more, is it not?”
“Did he tell you that? That he didn’t know much?”
“Yes, he did. Why are you asking me that?”
Solomon hesitates, and you step forward. “Tell me!”
“One of the assignments at RAD, which is the school both Mammon and I attend, is to do a research project into old magic. We all choose a topic and strive to learn as much as we possibly can about it with the end goal being either a twenty-page research paper or a forty-five minute presentation. Can you guess what Mammon’s chosen topic was?”
The pieces fall into place and you swallow as you realize what he’s getting at. “So, Mammon’s topic was binding spells?”
“Yes,” Solomon says with a nod.
“But why would he lie to me?” you say, more to yourself than him. “Why wouldn’t he use his knowledge to help me break this?”
“MC, I think you need to read this,” Solomon cuts in, handing you a packet of stapled papers he must have just summoned since he certainly wasn't in possession of it a moment ago. You take the papers, reading the cover page, and realize it’s a report. Mammon’s report, to be exact, on the subject of binding spells. At this point, most of your anger at Solomon has burned away, and most of your attention is focused on the papers, something Solomon seems to realize.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he says, with a jaunty little wave that makes you want to punch him. Okay, so maybe you’ve still got some anger left. “Happy reading~”
“Oh, fuck you,” you say in response, and then he’s gone, leaving you alone in the greenhouse. You have to read this report. You can’t, for the life of you, fathom why Mammon would lie to you and hide what knowledge he had, but it won’t do any good to confront him without having the knowledge to back you up.
And… you believe he must have had a good reason for it. In all the time you’ve known him, Mammon’s been nothing but dependable and kind in his own, weird way, helping you out and being a good friend. Your gut is telling you that his intention probably wasn’t to hurt you by deceiving you, and you make a habit of trusting it.
Not wanting to get discovered with the report, you send it to a pocket dimension. It’s crazy to think that you couldn’t do something like that before Mammon, as it now felt so natural. Felt so right.
Hastening back towards your room, hoping Mammon’s not in there, you overlook one of the angels, Simeon, until he says hello.
“Oh, hello!” you reply, pasting on a smile. You don’t really feel up to talking right now, and his stare is heavy. It almost seems like he can see right through you, a thoroughly unpleasant feeling.
“How are you?” he asks, and you force yourself to be polite.
“Good, and you?”
“I am good as well.” He tilts his head. “If you have a moment-”
“Actually,” you say, apologetically, “I’m in a little but of a hurry.”
“Completely understandable,” he replies, and you let out a sigh of relief. “But MC,” he holds your gaze for a long moment, “please do not be too hard on Mammon. Though it may not always seem so, his intentions are always pure. At least, with you, that is.”
“Thank you,” you say after a beat of silence. You don’t know how much he knows, and he doesn’t seem inclined to be any less cryptic, so trying to glean more seems futile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Once back in your, thankfully, empty room, you retrieve the report, wasting no time. You don’t know when Mammon’ll get back and you’d like to finish up before then.
The intro holds little information, so you move down to the body of the report, reading it closely.
Though the ingredients of the incantation are easy enough to come by and the wording is simple, the spell has limited rates of success, Mammon writes. This is due to the nature of the spell, the very thing that makes it possible in the first place. Because the spell was written with true and entire lovers in mind, that is, pairings who are meant for one another on more than the emotional level, it is a requirement that the targets for the binding spell to be fatally connected- meant for one another on the celestial level, intentionally composed to compliment the other by the divine forces. In other words, for the spell to take root and succeed, the two must be ‘soulmates’.
Holy shit. The spell wouldn't have worked unless you and Mammon were made for one another? Like, specifically created to be a match? That was too much to take in. No wonder everyone was so taken aback upon learning that you and Mammon had been bonded. It had much deeper a meaning than you were led to believe.
You forced yourself to continue reading, looking for when Mammon discussed how to break the spell.
The breaking of the binding spell is practically unheard of, which is to be expected. Why would soulmates precisely engineered for one another have need of breaking the spell? But it has been done. According to the incantation’s creator, it’s simpler than one would expect. All that needs to be done is for one of the pair to sincerely wish it to be broken, with all of their heart and mind, and it will be broken. The creator of the spell had no wish to trap people within the spell’s hold, which is why that caveat exists. But as was said, the wish has to be all-consuming, with no room left for fixing the bind or mending the relationship.
You have to put the report down at that point and take a few laps around the room. So, the spell can be broken? But only if either you or Mammon wholly and completely wish for it? It’s clear that that’s not the case already, since the bond is still intact, which leaves you with a complicated situation.
You’d been weirded out and ready to break it at the beginning, but at the same time had been a little grateful for it since it provided you access to Mammon. That meant that you weren’t wholly wishing to break the bind. And Mammon, you had no clue as to why he hasn’t wished for it to be broken yet, something you need to figure out ASAP.
Picking up the report, you begin working through the last few pages. You’re almost to the conclusion when Mammon walks in, too quickly for you to hide what you’ve been doing.
His eyes zero in on the report, recognition clear on his face. “Ah, shit,” he says, attempting a smile. “I guess we’ve got some stuff to talk about, don’t we?”
ৎ୭ warnings ┋ gender neutral reader + lovesick!mammon. drabble. tooth-rotting fluff. mild angst. mammon being in denial about his obvious feelings (but what’s new?).
ৎ୭ word count ┋ 530.
ৎ୭ love note ┋ i’m genuinely so sorry about this, i don’t know what the fuck i was writing at two in the morning. enjoy, i guess.
mammon loved to hate you.
the human exchange student — weak, spineless and a tad bit annoying — that he was assigned to keep a close eye on during the one year period of the program. you were a burden to him; putting a rift in his daily routine — which mainly consisted of him skipping classes, gambling and dodging his eldest brother’s punishments. honestly, how did lucifer and the rest of the student council expect him to scurry around after some little runt all day long? he had better things to do!
he hated the way you’d trail behind him while he walked through the hallways of the royal academy, struggling to keep up with the strides of his long legs. like a scared pup, scampering around my ankles, he used to say with a snicker.
he hated how many questions you asked, acting as if he was your personal search engine. he scoffed at even the most harmless of questions, advising you to look it up on your phone, instead of bothering the great mammon about it.
he hated the way he had to tilt his head downwards to meet your gaze. you always looked so small and minute below him, like a microscopic ant. after all, you were just some puny little human, and he was a powerful, mighty, millennium-old demon.
he hated the way you spoke to him, your voice all soft and gentle, and your sentences free from the usual bitter venom of his siblings. his heart always seemed to flutter in his chest when you defended him from the remarks made by his brothers, or gave him a well-deserved compliment. although, he always pushed the feeling away almost as soon as it happened. there was no way in heaven — or hell — that a pathetic human would ever make him feel that ecstatic with mere words.
he hated the way you could fluster him with a simple grin. it was adorable; your eyes crinkled at the corners, nose scrunched, lips pulled into the most beautiful smile he’d ever laid eyes on. frustratingly, he ignored the way his heart thumped violently in his chest, but was determined to make you smile forevermore.
he hated the way you melted his heart in a way that no other demon — or human, or angel — had ever done in the thousands of years he has been in existence. with every touch, or compliment, or even nothing worth noting at all, he could physically feel his chest bursting with joy. he couldn’t the last time he felt this happy. he couldn’t remember life in the devildom before you arrived, and he hoped to whatever god there was that it would remain that way for as long as possible.
but most of all, he hated the way that he didn’t hate you at all. not even a little bit, not even in the slightest. he’s torn apart when you aren’t around, and he’s complete when you’re by his side. he’s unconditionally in love with you, as much as he denies it to his brothers, you and himself. you’re a part of him.
***I have been WAITING for this one! Oh I am so excited. I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I do! Thank you all for your patience and support of this series! I love you guys ❤️***
Summary: MC wasn’t pleased about being forced out of their home and into the Devildom for this so-called exchange program, however, they were pissed that their little sister Harper was brought with them. MC wants nothing more than to make sure their sister stays alive and safe while in the Devildom, but first they need to figure out why these Demon bastards won’t stop gawking at her.
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Amber eyes glared straight into yours from under a deep purple fringe.
Thin lips pulled back into a snarl revealing sharp, pointed fangs.
You could feel your palms line with sweat even as you glared back at him.
"Let the show begin!" Asmodeus cheered as he pranced between the two of you in mini denim shorts and tied-up, plaid blouse, as though this was a car drag race and not a competition to see who the biggest nerd was.
You allowed your eyes to skim across the crowd. Mammon and Satan were standing by Harper's side — forcibly equipped with glowsticks and cheer signs that she and Luke had made the night before. Neither of them looked particularly overjoyed about being there, but you had given neither of them a choice.
"Oh, so you finally came crawling back to us," Mammon pouted as you stepped into his room that morning.
You rolled your eyes. "I told you, it was a sleepover. Now, we don't have much time before RAD, so I need you to listen. Harper wants to go to the competition. She won't listen to me saying otherwise."
"You mean the competition that you definitely shouldn't be competing in?" You and Mammon jumped as a scowling Satan suddenly appeared at the door. "You're just going to get yourself hurt. Call it off."
You crossed your arms over your chest as you rose an eyebrow at him. "I already told you, I can't do that," not when your hands trembled just from being in a room alone with two of these demons — and these were the ones you reluctantly trusted. "I'm going to be competing. What I need you to do Mammon, is get Harper out of there the second things start to go south, and especially if Leviathan gets violent."
Mammon's head whipped over to look at you with wide blue eyes. "What!? No! I ain't just leavin' ya if Levi goes all crazy otaku!"
You narrowed your eyebrows at the behavior — For a second, you could almost believe he cared. "It wasn't a question."
Mammon growled as Satan observed you coldly. "And what about me? I assume you have plans for me in this death-wish as well, Master," he practically spat the word.
A shiver ran through him as your two gazes locked.
Satan shifted as he noticed your attention, and nodded his head in affirmation. Unconsciously, you felt your shoulders relax.
"Rules are simple!" Asmodeus continued. "The two of you will answer my wonderful questions on the series The Tale of the Seven Lords and whoever answers the most questions win! Should Leviathan win, MC will be required to attend and do all his weird nerd things for him so he doesn't have to pull all-nighters or wait in huge lineups," the demon sighed. "What a waste of a prize."
"Hey!" Levi snapped from his side of the room.
"And MC, you minx, if you win, Leviathan will form a pact with you," Asmo smirked and looked over shoulder at Levi as hushed whispers spread across the room. "See Levi? That's how you properly use bets to your advantage."
Great. The competition hadn't even started, and Asmo already had Leviathan looking like he wanted to rip someone's head off.
The strawberry blonde giggled. "Well then, we'll start with you, MC! Get ready for TSL Quiz question number one!" You held your breath, as he pulled a sleeve of cue cards out from his back pocket. "The seven lords are all brothers, and each has a specific name that people know them by. In birth order, name the older, second-oldest, and third-oldest."
A frown dug at you lips. Was ... Was he serious? That's it? Your eyes flickered over to Solomon, who had taken a seat near the back of the room and was smirking like an asshole in delighted glee.
"Corruption, then Fools, then Shadow," you answered easily. "Easy."
Leviathan rolled his eyes as his hands curled into fists by his side. "Any normie could've got that!"
Asmo squealed and threw his hands in the air. "You're absolutely correct! Way to start off the game on the right foot, MC!"
You raised an eyebrow at the excitable host. "Aren't emcees supposed to be unbiased?"
The demon giggled and blew a kiss towards you. "Oh, but I can't help being biased towards you when you're so cute!"
You nearly gagged.
Asmodeus either didn't notice or paid it no mind as he turned to Leviathan. "Alright Levi, it's your turn! Here comes question number one!" Leviathan's gaze hardened as he sharply nodded his head. "In what year did the Lord of Shadow build the Blue Palace for his imaginary mistress?"
"Year 693 of the ancient era," the otaku answered without hesitation.
But you weren't so sold. "Wait," you demanded with a clipped voice. Leviathan's stare was once again locked on you. "Why is his question so much harder than mine? That's not fair."
The room went silent — so quiet the only things you could hear were your own jack-rabbit heartbeat and your breaths. You swallowed thickly as you lifted your chin. "I ... I mean. This is a competition to see who knows the most about TSL If you're asking us questions at different levels, it proves nothing and you might as well be giving Leviathan the win now."
The Avatar of Envy smirked as he tilted his head. "Is that your way of giving up? Tossing in the towel already normie?"
You scoffed, "Hardly. I don't want your pact through a stupid trick like you made me do to Mammon before I knew any better," said demon blushed in recollection. "I want to earn it," it was your turn to smirk this time. "Unless you're scared that I'll beat you if put at the same level?"
Maybe Satan was right. Maybe you did have a death wish. It certainly felt like it as Leviathan growled and whipped around to Asmodeus. "ASK THEM BETTER QUESTIONS!"
Asmodeus shrugged as he peered over at you with what could almost be described as respect glittering through his eyes. "You're funeral," oh, it certainly felt like it.
He cleared his throat as he looked back down at the cue cards. "Okay, MC. You said that last round was too easy for you, so let's try something new! Question two! The Lord of Flies loves to eat cursed goat tartare sandwiches with cheese," you could hear someone's stomach growl in the audience. "But there is one, and only one, instance where he doesn't eat it. Why?"
You took a deep breath as you racked your brain — doing your best to ignore Leviathan's smug expression across the room. The now-familiar buzz of magic spread across your skull.
"So what is this again?" you asked Solomon as you frowned at the pale green vial he handed you.
The wizard grinned while arranging pillows in front of the television. "It's a memory retention potion! If you drink it now, it'll ensure that you will remember everything that we're about to watch plus anything that Simeon will tell you."
Your frown deepened. "Isn't that cheating?"
Solomon paused for a moment before glancing back you with a curious expression. "Would that be a problem?"
You huffed and tossed the vial back to him. "I'm a lot things, but I'm not a cheater. I like to do things on my own."
A bubble of irritation swelled within you as the wizard cackled. "Oh, believe me dear, I've noticed," he took your hands into his own and pressed the vial into your palm. "You're indepent. You don't trust others. You're used to only working alone because you've never had anyone else," your breath hitched as he leaned in close to you. "This isn't cheating. It's putting you at an equal playing field. It's not you asking for help. It's me giving it to you."
You ripped your hands from his, the vial still in your grasp, even as a faint blush dusted your cheeks. "Don't act like you know me."
Solomon chuckled, his silver eyes flashing victoriously as you downed the potion. "As you wish."
"He didn't eat it because the Grand King's mage, who is well known for inedible cooking, made it. Even he couldn't stomach the taste," you answered confidently and took exceptional glee as Leviathan's jaw dropped.
Asmodeus let out a genuine laugh — his entire being lighting up with pure amusement. "That's correct! Very impressive," he purred. "That was a tough one. You really know your stuff, don't you?"
Your scrunched up your nose and instinctively took a step back. "Just move onto the next question."
He let out a small sigh, now looking at you with more interest and intent than you had ever seen from him. "So demanding," with a flick of his hair, he turned back to Leviathan. "Now back to Mr. Reliable himself, Leviathan! Here comes question number two! In the Tale of the Seven Lords, volume 3, page 724, what does the Lord of Fools say in the fifth line from the top?"
You couldn't help but be irritated by the difficulty of the question in comparison to yours. They still weren't taking you seriously.
Leviathan gained an almost whimsy look on his face, as his entire demeanor changed. You made a mental note of his ability to shift so drastically. "Money is my dearest friend and closest companion. It's everything to me. The blood bonds I share with my brothers are like the weak, wispy threads of a spider in comparison."
You gritted your teeth as Asmodeus cheered him on. Of course, it was an exact match. You needed to step up your game.
The demon of lust turned to with that ever-present, stupid smile on his face. "Final round, babe. You think you got this?" He loudly laughed as you glared at him. "Alright, alright. Calm down, tiger. Question three. Regarding the fifth brother, Lord of Lechery, who does he love more than anyone else?"
To most the answer would seem obvious. But after a conversation with Simeon about some of the flaws you had noticed in the characters, you knew better.
"Most would say, himself," you began, catching everyone's attention. "But the truth is that he loves no one. He loves his appearance, but the Lord of Lechery doesn't even know who he is until he meets Henry. And that's when he finally begins to experience true love for the first time. So the real answer, is Henry."
Something in Asmodeus's flawless expression cracked, if only for second, at your words. His glossed lips were parted, but no words came from them.
An impatient grumble of frustration came from the other side of the room. "Come on!" Levi whined. "Hurry up, it's my turn!"
Asmodeus shook his head, a faint blush painting his cheeks as he looked at you and cleared his throat. "A beautiful interpretation and one that is correct," he finished softly. He peered at you deeply, as though you were a creature he was trying to dissect before turning his attention back to Leviathan. "Final question Levi, if you get this, we'll have to go into final death and pull out the big guns to see who really is the biggest nerd," he looked down at the cards once more. "Why did the Lord of Emptiness try to kill Henry even after all the other lords befriended him?"
Your blood froze as Leviathan let out a near-psychopathic cackle - his orange eyes alight with mania. This was it. "That's your big tough question?! HA! This is easy! Everyone knows that he killed Henry because he hated people like him and wanted to slaughter all of them!"
Your heart stopped as you stared at Levi with wide eyes.
That ...
"That's wrong," you whispered.
The crazed laughter suddenly stopped. The air felt heavy around you with the pressure of a thousand stares. Leviathan took two steps towards you. "What did you say?" He hissed — phantom pains shot through your wrist once more.
You felt your legs tremble lightly beneath you, even as you stood your ground. "You're wrong," you spoke firmly. "He didn't kill Henry because he hated him or because he wanted them all gone. He's the Lord of Emptiness," you emphasized. "He's been empty since the death of his sister. He didn't hate Henry or people like them, he used to love them. But because of his sister's death, he couldn't process that. The real reason why he tried to kill Henry is that he wanted revenge for his sister and to fill the emptiness inside him."
Not a word was spoken. Not breath taken.
Amber eyes glared straight into yours from under a deep purple fringe.
Thin lips pulled back into a snarl revealing sharp, pointed fangs.
You felt like you were going to be sick.
"They're telling the truth!" Diavolo spoke with pride from the audience. "MC is correct! What a twist!"
Silently, everyone's faze turned back to you. You gulped nervously as you widened your stance and readied yourself for the inevitable.
Asmodeus's stunned expression slowly shifted into a radiant smile. "That settles it then! The person with the most TSL knowledge is -"
"I won't stand for this!" Leviathan growled. The shadows of the room almost seemed to cling to him as his chest heaved in pure rage. He slowly began stalking towards you. "All you did was stay up one night and marathon the DVDs! You haven't even read the books! The idea that YOU could be a bigger TSL fan than ME, is ... it's..." he frantically looked around, searching for the answer.
Mammon held tightly onto a shaking Harper. "Woah, calm down there, Levi," he called out nervously — cautiously eyeing the tension between the two of you. Satan pressed his lips into tight line.
"NO!" The otaku shrieked — a sound like nails on a chalkboard that you couldn't help but wince at. "I WON'T STAND FOR THIS!"
You couldn't help but gasp in fear as Leviathan split into his demon form and began to charge toward you. "Mammon! GO!" You called out as you held up your arms in defense, doing your best to ignore the sounds of your sister screaming as the white-haired demon dragged her away.
That was all you managed to get out before you were tackled to the ground, your head bouncing pathetically off the solid marble with a loud CRACK. You let out a sharp cry as you felt the gangly demon latch himself on top of you — his claws sinking into your shoulders.
But just as fast as he was on you, a loud roar ripped through the air and he was torn off of you.
You opened your eyes to see Satan snarling over you as Lucifer restrained the struggling Leviathan. You winced as you sat up and felt something warm trickle down the back of your neck. "Thanks," you grunted.
Satan didn't dare glance back at you. "Just following orders. Sorry I wasn't fast enough."
Your breath caught as you finally realized that Lucifer and Satan were in their own demon forms as well. "You're out of control, Levi," Lucifer scolded as he held the demon by the scruff of his neck. "Go back to your room and cool off."
The envious demon's deadly gaze flickered between you and his elder brother and he found himself once more.
Diavolo stood from his throne in the back of the room. "Levithan? You heard what he said. Enough," you couldn't help but shiver at the utter power in his voice alone. Lucifer set Leviathan back on his feet as the younger demon nodded.
"Wait," you croaked as you stumbled back on your own two feet. "We ... We had a deal," you spat as you began to slowly walk towards him.
Satan reached out to grab your arm, "MC-" you weakly slapped away his hands and continued forward.
Lucifer held his own arm out in front of his brother — ready to interfere if needed as you approached.
You had never fallen victim to such hatred as you had looking into Leviathan's eyes in that moment.
"As per the deal, you lost," you snatched his hand into your own trembling grip and clung onto it with all your might as you pulled him closer to you. "I bind thee to myself and my command, you, Leviathan, third born of the Seven Lords, Avatar of Envy," the second you felt his magic course you — a disgusting sludge that burned slowly like magma across your skin before searing into your inner wrist — you dropped his hand. Cold relief finally washed over you.
Lucifer lowered his arm, cautiously eyeing the two of you.
He gave you an opening.
You reared your fist back and relished in the feeling of your knuckles colliding with the demon's nose. You bared your teeth in a bloody, feral grin as he went tumbling to the ground. "Leviathan, you sore losing bastard, you will not ever hurt me again."
Lucifer scowled at you as he crossed his arms over his chest. "That was unnecessary."
Feeling particularly done with the day, you spat a mouth full of blood onto his shoes and flipped him off.
Without another word, you turned on your heel, facing a wide-eyed Satan and began to walk away.
Or tried.
You made it two steps before your legs gave out beneath you. The last thing you heard before the world turned black was someone calling out your name.
***
You awoke to warmth. To sniffles. To a weight curled up into your side.
It was all so achingly familiar that, for a second, you were able to ignore the splitting migraine you had, and just turned over to curl up around Harper.
"MC?!" Harper cried you hugged her tightly. "Y-You're awake! I was so scared! Satan said you needed to sleep, but your clothes were all red a-and you wouldn't wake up, a-a-and-"
You didn't say anything in response. There wasn't much you could say. Instead, you just held your sister as close as you could and buried your face in her hair.
Each of her sobs felt like a knife straight through your heart knowing that you were the cause of them this time and not -
You shook you head, wincing as you did, to brush off the ghosts of your past.
"I'm here," you murmured quietly. Harper only held you tighter. "I'm not going anywhere. I promised, remember?" You smiled lightly as you felt a faint nod against your chest. You lightly kissed the top of her head. "You remember what I told you the day that social worker tried to take you when Mom and Dad left?"
Harper sniffled as she finally pulled away and wiped at her tear-filled eyes. "Y-You said that even if we're split apart a-a-and you weren't around that you would be f-fighting to get back to me. That we- we would always find our way back to each other."
"Exactly," you whispered. "I'm sorry I scared you, cupcake. But I'm okay. Just a little hurt. And even if I was taken away, or needed to go somewhere for a bit, I will always, always, come back to you. Okay?"
Harper nodded as she launched herself against your chest once more. You did everything you could to hold back a yelp from the flare of pain that shot through you.
You took a moment to glance around the room and finally noticed that you were alone. "Where's Mammon and Satan?"
Tiny fists curled tightly against your uniform in response. "No more demons allowed in our room. They hurt you."
You smiled as you ran a hand through Harper's hair, wondering what kind of hell she must have given them to actually get them to leave. "That sounds like a good plan to me," as you lifted your hand to caress her head once more, a brilliant orange mark now branded into your wrist caught your eye.
A stone sunk into your stomach as you sighed.
Three down. Three to go.
This better be fucking worth it.
*** This ended up MUCH longer than I anticipated but MAN did it feel good to finally get this out! Thank you all so much for the love and support and just being here. You're all amazing and I can't wait to hear your guys' thoughts on this one! ***
summary : mammon smells his perfume on you… you can imagine how it goes down from there. (old request)
This is how you die.
On the bed, phone in hand, a fatal weight crushing your torso. It’s a slow, agonizing death for sure, but it’s not the worst way to go.
“Mammon, I need to charge my phone.”
The demon hums, but doesn’t move a single muscle.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, stealing his perfume. The very moment he recognized the fragrance, he made it his mission to follow you everywhere you went. He was there in your classes, was clinging onto you as you made your way down the hallways, had his head resting on your shoulder during lunchtime.
And now, just as you’re about to take a nap, he flings himself onto you and tucks his arms comfortably under your back. His hair is a mess from all the tossing, and it's tickling your face. All this cuddling has made you quite hot, and you are quite sure your bones will never be arranged in the same way again.
But to say that you hate it would be a lie. It's far from the truth, actually. You are getting a kick out of the circumstance. It's not everyday Mammon puts his affection on display like this, especially physically. This side of him is almost endearing.
You push his bangs back, and notice that his eyes are closed. "Are you taking the nap for me?"
"Can't help it," his words are slurred with drowsiness. "You smell so good."
"It's the tenth time you tell me that. And mind you, it's your perfume."
"Yea, I have good taste."
The both of you chuckle.
Sleep crawls up on you at last, owing to his steady breathing and peaceful countenance. Throwing your phone to the far side of the bed, you shift so that you are lying flat on your back and wrap your arms around him. He buries his face even further into your shirt, so much that you aren't sure if he can breathe.
You shake the thought off. Death by cuddling doesn't sound too bad anyways.
I really like the thought of MC's interactions and relationships with the other beings in Devildom. The demon bros and rest of the cast are great but I feel like it's the little interactions with the 'NPCs' that would make Devildom worth staying in and feel more... organic. There's a group of succubi for MC to party with at the Fall when Asmo gets too much to handle for the night. A retailing demon at Majolish that knows which new releases will suit MC whenever they drop by. A demon at Hell's Kitchen that knows MC's order off by heart. A witch that gives MC discounts on potions and hexes just because they're a regular.
It's canon that MC is pretty popular at R.A.D., there are lesser demons regularly greeting MC in the hallways and likely jump at the chance to give MC their pen if they ever forget. Members of the Fangol team keep MC company as they wait for Beel to finish up. MC has made friends with the demons who have their lockers next to them, they have conversations before school every morning.
And it's not just the humanoid creatures. Cerberus is a given, becoming more of a supersized puppy whenever it sees MC, much to Lucifer's chagrin. A haunted portrait painting in the castle will break into a grin whenever MC walks past. There's a Little D that hovers around MC whenever they go to Diavolo's castle, it was so preoccupied with trailing after MC it almost left the castle entirely when they did.
Not proofread >< I haven't written in a while due to my busy schedule, so I don't really how to feel about this T^T
Simeon loves to be around you.
There’s something about you that pulls him in. Whether it’s your smile or your actions towards others, he’d find himself intrigued to know more. Just who exactly are you?
.
You’re a kind human; that much he could interpret just from observing you.
Always trying your best to help others, you were selfless and kindhearted. You never find it in yourself to snap at the brothers even though they’ve caused you too much trouble, and Simeon wonders, are you not an angel?
Even he couldn’t fathom being in your shoes and dealing with everyone with such a gracious heart.
.
You’re patient and understanding.
Despite being a human among a society of demons and angels, you never really looked down on any species, including your own. You believed that every species has its own beauty that hides deep within.
Always trying your best to understand others, you treat everyone with respect and mutual understanding.
No wonder you have everyone wrapped around your fingers.
.
You’re one brave human; Simeon noted as he heard from Luke how you protected the little angel and Beel from Lucifer's wrath during the incident with the Grimoire.
Even though you have no powers to protect yourself, you stood your ground against the demons, never faltering or making mistakes.
And when you’ve finally unlocked your hidden potential as a sorcerer, you did not step down from a challenge, always wrecking your mind to solve the obstacles with patience and carefulness.
.
Now Simeon understands what exactly has made you so attractive to him.
You’re a human with many specialities and skills.
Simeon also understands why he’s feeling the way he is right now. And he hoped you notice this immense admiration of his someday.
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“Goodnight!” You shouted down the hallway before you shut your door, unable to not smile after you heard the muffled replies of the brothers shouting back to you.
Climbing into bed had never been a difficult task and today it was no different. With you safe under your covers and your phone to distract you, you were perfectly content.
But, then, of course, Mammon came marching in as he had always done since your first week here. However, you had grown so used to this that it no longer disrupted the peace anymore.
So, you ignored him and simply lifted up the covers for him to slide into.
After a few minutes of DevilTok, you threw your phone onto your nightstand and covered yourself up with your blanket. You were finally ready to sleep.
Mammon curled closer, his face hidden in the blanket over your stomach. You smoothed his hair down, smiling at how he only pressed closer at the touch.
Your door creaked open. You raised your head but you were unable to tell who it was. They settled on the side opposite of where Mammon had gotten in and rubbed your shoulder gently instead of saying anything.
The lamp turned on. It was Satan. You rolled onto your stomach, trying to shield your eyes from the light. Mammon grumbled, annoyed that he could no longer hide his face in your body comfortably.
Your door once again creaked open. You groaned.
Another weight to the bed. Someone had decided to lay on your back. Four people in your bed was too unusual. You peeked an eye open.
Mammon was baring his teeth like a feral animal at whoever was on top of you. You would bet a thousand Grimm that it was Belphie.
You looked to your right. Satan wasn’t even reading his book and was instead looking at you.
You rolled your eyes. You knew what was happening. Your demons had once again came to the conclusion that you were human with a human lifespan.
You decided to just let them angst this one out.
The door opened and this time, two pairs of footsteps wondered to your bed. “Sorry, hun,” Asmo whispered as he crawled over you and Mammon. “Wanted to see you.”
“Uh huh…” Levi took his spot on the outside of your legs, your left calf acting as a cushion for his head. You prayed that you wouldn’t accidentally kick him in your sleep.
Then you heard the crunching of chips and a crinkle of a bag. You hadn’t even noticed him walk in.
You moaned into your pillow, exhausted beyond belief. “Beel, please stop eating. I know it sucks to be told that, but go outside if you’re going to crunch.”
There was an incoherent reply and then silence. The edge of the mattress dipped down. Satan turned his lamp off.
You worked on ignoring all of them, closing your eyes tightly and hoping for the best. Asmo dragged his manicured nails up and down your arm and it pulled you into a sleepy haze. You hummed out your appreciation and Asmo giggled tiredly in response.
You felt yourself rocking in and out of sleep, even drooling with how at peace you were. Maybe it wasn’t so bad having six demons in bed with you. Maybe it was worth it for this amount of comfort.
And then your door slammed open.
“Get out of their room, now.” A deadly aura made you choke on air, shivering violently. Lucifer was in his demon form and livid.
Belphie jolted awake on your back, making you gasp in pain as his elbows and knees dug into you. Mammon reacted, scrambling to pull you out from under him.
“Mammon,” Belphie growled, easing his weight back down onto you. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What do ya think YOU’RE doing?!” Mammon huffed, irritated. “You’re hurtin’ ‘em!”
“They’re fine. They can handle it.” He patted you on the head. How were they ignoring Lucifer? You shifted warily under his weight, unable to see anything happening.
Lucifer started stomping over. You shrunk under Belphie, trying to hide.
“Who do you two think you are, ignoring me?” Lucifer loomed over you three, Levi rolling away to avoid confrontation. “You will all go to your own rooms immediately. The rest of you as well.”
“Lucifer!” Asmodeus whined, leaning into a dozing Beelzebub’s side. “Why can’t we stay? What’s the harm?”
“They were just about to sleep but someone decided to wake them back up,” Satan glowered up at Lucifer. “I think you should be the one to leave.”
“Oh my god, Lucifer just let them stay.” You took matters into your own hands, rubbing at your face tiredly. You wanted no more arguing tonight. “Thanks, but if I didn’t want them here I would’ve gotten rid of them long ago myself. Stay or leave, I don’t care just please turn off the lights.”
He walked away and flipped the switch, darkness fortunately covering the entire room once again. You relaxed and felt Belphie nuzzle into the nape of your neck.
You heard a chair being dragged on your wooden floor and then Lucifer sitting down. You rolled your eyes. Of course he would choose to stay but not be in the bed.
Now, with everything and everyone finally settled in for the night, you got to thinking.
How could all of them be upset over the same thing at once? You think quietly as you can in your bed filled with eight people and come to a damning conclusion. One that makes your stomach twist painfully.
“You had a family movie night without me, didn’t you? And it had someone dying long before someone else, didn’t it?” The sound of breathing stops, seven pairs of eyes stare at you, all conveying different degrees of guilt. “What the hell?”
