Chapter Text
It came to you in flashes. Fragments of laughter, the brief, soft touch of someone’s hand on your cheek. The warmth of it made her smile. Then moments in between - staring down a hallway, a brilliant, burning sun on your neck, gathering your hair behind your head.
Wrapped in downy sheets, soft and sleepy and oh so comfortable. Creeping so, so carefully, placing toe to sole to heel in as slow and straight a line as possible, stray hairs sticking to a nape damp with sweat. Azure skies, the familiar call of a bird. Turning to someone familiar, leaning against them. A sneer. Someone is smiling. Moving to the fire, warming frozen hands. A whispered comment. Clenched fists, gritted teeth. The sweet bloom of a bruise after a fight.
A weight heavy against your chest. Bowed shoulders. A knot so deep in your throat, so thick, and then silence.
A sudden, violent scream. Bloody hands. Bloody feet. Falling, falling, down, down, down. Splayed out cold on the ground - clutching their hand in yours - their blood, glistening against your skin in the dying light. “Help me,” they scream. “HELP ME!”
The sun shines on behind you.
You can pick every detail out in distinct scarlet hues.
Something has shifted. The wind is picking up. They’re saying something, but you cannot hear them. It is too indistinct to make out. Their whispering voices are urgent and furtive, and you are struck with a sudden sense of terror. You fight to move, to scream, to breathe, but you’re stuck, can’t move, you’re-
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
A cold, hard floor presses up against her cheek. It isn’t her own. Opening her eyes, she found that she was kneeling, slumped, on cold flagstones almost as long as her. Where am I? She thought groggily. How… How did I get here?
She inhales sharply as she tries to straighten up. Her back aches, sending sharp pains down through her legs, up to her neck. She has to stop and hold the position for a moment, arms trembling, before she pushes through the pain to straighten her back. There’s the ache of tears in her throat, behind her eyes, but she grits her teeth and forces air in, out of her mouth. The cool air saws across her dry lips. Glancing upwards, she registered something.
There were people. Staring at her. There seemed to be several men looking her way, sat in some kind of throne-like court chairs. Each person was seated above her, and the man in the highest chair grinned at her and began to speak.
“Welcome! Welcome to the Devildom!” He was the tallest person she’d ever seen. Ever. Easily twice her height, his eyes were a piercing golden colour, his hair a deep red. He was as broad and giddy in his speech as he was in his manner, having the cadence of a practised politician.
He was dressed in a scarlet uniform that somehow didn’t clash with his hair. It looked almost military. A red military uniform. Keep the bloodstains hidden. Another thought struck her. Have I been kidnapped by the fucking military? What is going on?!
He was talking. Prattling about Devildoms and adjustments and humans and other things that made absolutely no sense, gesturing with hands that were oddly delicate, tipped with long black nails. His movements made her dizzy, so she looked around herself instead. Her head throbbed.
Above the court, flanked by enormous windows, were long purple banners inscribed with various animals. They stretched all the way up to the ceiling, which rose far, far above them in sweeping arches—so high that she couldn't see the top. Through the windows, the moon loomed. The room was vast. It was almost church-like in enormity.
She shivered. She couldn’t see a single radiator, or fire, or anything warm. Scratch that - the room was illuminated by candlelight. The flames wavered and flickered, bright spots in the otherwise dark room. There was a slightly musty smell, dry and old, like the scent you get from storage rooms. She tucked her fingers tightly under her arms, and realised she was wearing her pyjamas. Her heart began to beat faster. Had they broken in, stolen her out of her bed? Why couldn’t she remember anything? It had been a completely normal evening. She'd just gone to bed and woken up here… this had to be a dream, right?
Great. Okay. Well, dream or not, it was freezing. Her breath was misting out in front of her.
Her legs were somehow simultaneously almost numb and cramping painfully from the cold. She moved slowly to straighten them out in front of her. Her breath hissed through her clenched teeth.
Finally the man thought to introduce himself. “...Oh! But I’m getting carried away,” he acknowledged with a shake of his head. “My name is Diavolo. I am the ruler of all demons, and all here know of me.”
Well that cleared things right up.
“And someday soon, I will be crowned king of the Devildom.”
Perfect. These words were perfectly understandable. They really… meant something. To him, presumably.
Okay, so what do you know? This guy was apparently royalty. Demon royalty.
Sure.
But that meant that he was probably the one who’d coordinated all of this.
Diavolo was staring expectantly at her, having finished his speech.
“Um…” She looked around once more, taking in the room again. Diavolo smiled encouragingly. Distantly, she realised she was trembling. She shifted her hands more firmly under her arms and said, “I think you have the wrong person.”
Someone sighed. She looked for the first time at one of the other occupants of the room.
The man who sighed was sitting almost directly below Diavolo, slightly to his left. He was built sturdily enough, but there was something about his countenance that made him seem almost slight - not in a way that made you think of fragility, but in a way that a sharp blade seems thin if seen from the right angle.
His face was even, with heavy lids and a domineering nose. His eyebrows were low on his forehead, but she couldn't tell if it was because he was annoyed or just his usual expression. He had dark hair that looked like it used to be kept cropped close on the sides, but had since been left to grow out. The greying streaks running through it gave him a refined but slightly wearied look. He wore a uniform similar to Diavolo but in black, and by far his most striking feature were his eyes. They were commanding, a harsh ruby colour, framed with thick, dark lashes that stood out starkly against his pale skin.
He gazed steadily at her with a measured look that gave away nothing. He was utterly compelling. She suddenly felt very small.
“I will explain everything to you.” Even his voice was even. Refined and low.
“But first,” cut in Diavolo, focusing again on the girl, “What is your name?”
She blinked. “You kidnapped me without knowing my name?”
Diavolo laughed. It was a hearty laugh, deep and full of sound. She wasn’t sure she believed a laugh that was so… committed. “Kidnapping! Humans are hilarious. I can tell we’re going to get along swimmingly!”
She stared at him blankly. Somehow, she didn’t see the joke. And now her legs were so numb that she knew if she tried to stand she'd make a fool of herself stumbling over to a chair to fill it.
Diavolo’s smile was lessening. He looked to the other man. “Lucifer, what is the meaning of this?”
Was it just her, or did Lucifer’s eye twitch slightly? “Lord Diavolo, I assure you I don’t know what she’s talking about. I have the contract that she signed right here,” he said, staying resolutely still.
She frowned. Lucifer? Diavolo? Who named these guys?
Diavolo waited. “Right..." he stared at Lucifer expectantly. "Would you mind passing it to me, please?” he asked.
Stiffly, Lucifer bent down to his briefcase, and as slowly as possible pulled out a thin, brightly coloured piece of paper. He took his time in passing it up to Diavolo.
Just then, the man sitting almost at the end of the row of chairs let out a chuff of muffled laughter. He sat with his head cupped in his palm, staring away from all of the precedings. Lucifer immediately turned and gave him a death glare. Geez, I would not want to be on the receiving end of one of those. If looks could kill…
He didn’t seem particularly cowed, however. More annoyed. He sat slouched slightly in his seat, expression tightening briefly before his face went still.
If Lucifer was all shadows, this man was all light. Blonde hair, pale green eyes with blonde lashes, clear skin. His hair was a little longer and softer than Lucifer’s. It fell to just below his ears with the slightest wave. He had full lips and a strong jaw, with strong cheekbones to match. His sharp looks were slightly offset by the lime green bow tie he was wearing. It did not go with his eyes.
Even with all of the differences, it was still clear that he had some relation to Lucifer. They had the same heavy gaze, same way of holding themselves taut, like a spring held shut. Same precise movements, almost graceful.
He had arched eyebrows, and there wasn’t anything particularly off putting about him (bowtie aside), but something in her gut tugged at her as if to say stay away. Maybe the way he’d switched from mocking to blank in an instant, or the way he held himself apart from everything else. There was a tension to him.
Noticing her staring at him, he gave her a cold look. She glanced away quickly.
“Listen - you are MC, as written on the contract, right?” called out Diavolo. He’d somehow teleported from his throne at the top of the room to beside her.
He kneeled down, looking almost comically distressed. He certainly did not feel things halfway.
She cleared her throat. “May I see the paper?”
As Diavolo held it out to her, she felt a ball of worry in her throat.
This did seem familiar after all.
She scanned over it.
“Oh.” She shook her head, a confused half smile on her face. “Isn’t this an advert for that language app?”
The page before her was made from the shiny, half plastic paper that advertisements usually used. It was absolutely covered from top to bottom in phrases from different languages. The sentences tilted crazily from side to side, or spiralled around the page in a chaotic swirl, skipping through other words as it pleased. The text was subsequently very small and cramped, and on top of that, it seemed like the person who designed it was perhaps colourblind, or maybe just enjoyed the idea of colour so much that they just had to try to fit every possible hue on this small, A5 piece of paper. Every individual phrase was a different shade, with some changing halfway through, so there were a lot of different colours, well, everywhere.
She’d thought it was a marketing technique to catch the eye. Hers certainly got caught. The background was made from several overlapping rune-like patterns, which were slightly muted, but with the pulsating spectrum of colours that overlaid it clashed horribly enough that it was very, very difficult to read.
Along the sides, in tiny, acid green, scrawling text that repeated over and over, read: CONGRA___AT_ONS!!!!! Ple_se re_urn this let_er with y___ _ignature to confirm your participatio_. A lot of the message was obscured, either by the other text, or the underlying patterns in the background, save for a small white rectangle near the bottom. Just beside this rectangle was a pattern that looked vaguely like a drunk, green penguin. Written on the blank space were the letters ‘MC.’
MC recognised the letters, because she’d written them herself. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach.
“But… you are MC?” pressed Diavolo.
“I wrote that, if that’s what you mean,” she replied, slowly bringing her gaze up to level with his.
“So you signed the contract?” said Lucifer, a faint crease appearing between his eyebrows.
She nodded, brows still furrowed in confusion. “Yes.”
“Well then, MC, you knew what you were getting into.”
She scoffed. “How so?”
“It is exceedingly clearly written upon the contract-”
“Where?”
Lucifer scowled. “Would you like to point out an area that is not taken up by another ridiculous human language?”
MC set her jaw. “Ridiculous?”
Lucifer was looking down his nose at her, and she felt a sudden burst of anger at his condescension. “Diavolo, can you help me into a chair please?”
“Of course.” He reached out and pulled her up in one smooth motion. She staggered, legs trembling under her. Sharp pangs echoed with every step. “Oh! Whoopsie, you’re a little unsteady there.” He adjusted his hold so he held her more securely and guided her into a chair.
“Thank you.” MC said.
She looked over the paper in her hand. “This document is at best impossible to read and at worst purposefully misleading.” She angled it towards Diavolo. “This here? This looks like the logo from a very popular language app.” Setting the paper down, she tilted her head back to look Lucifer full in the eye. “If your intention was to gather participants for some fucked up abduction roleplay, you succeeded only in obtaining signatures. I have no idea what I’m doing here. I have no idea why I’m here. I have no idea why you decided to steal me away from my bed in the dead of night, and I still have no idea if your intentions good or bad.”
“Besides which - even if this was a well written, well structured contact, demons aren't real. Magic isn't real. I’d never even heard the term Devildom before today. Your average human wouldn’t know jack shit about any of this - how on earth would you be able to obtain informed consent about something that nobody believes in?”
Lucifer was still.
“Why, then, would I sign something I believed to be an advertisement?” She glanced around to every person in the room, inviting them to answer.
Nobody did.
She turned to Diavolo and finished softly, “Hundreds of identical flyers appearing simultaneously all over the world as if by magic - it’s actually quite an unusual event, see? So when it happened, we did what we do best: turned to the internet. This,” she waved the contact, “is a viral meme. Nobody knows who made it, or why, because even when the whole human world turned their eyes upon it, it’s incomprehensible . People thought it was an advertising stunt. A very, very funny one.” She slammed the paper back down, breathing hard. “Somehow, I can’t see the funny side anymore.”
There was silence for a moment. Then it was broken by a very deep sigh. Diavolo turned to Lucifer.
“Is this true?”
MC stared at him incredulously.
“I’d need to verify with our human world contacts. They’ve reported only success on their end.” said Lucifer.
Of - For fuck’s sake, of course they did! It was a complete fuck up! MC thought to herself.
“Who did we put in charge of distribution?” Diavolo continued. “Demon or human?”
Lucifer was typing furiously on his phone. “I’m looking into it now.”
Diavolo ran his hand through his hair. Suddenly, MC could see that this was a man used to carrying the weight of leadership. He did not lose his composure. He did not falter. He squared his shoulders, taking a measured breath in, eyes fixed on the middle disance, and he was back to his previous character - head held high, standing tall. When he turned to look at her he did not hesitate to meet her eyes.
Diavolo put his hand on her shoulder. “MC - I sincerely apologise for any miscommunications or distress this process has caused you. I assure you, I will do my utmost to ensure that we resolve this issue, and ensure your safety and wellbeing.”
“Once I’m fully informed, we’ll have a thorough discussion about steps going forward.”
He moved away, pacing slowly up and down the table alongside her.
“MC’s signed the contract, and she was the one we selected. Therefore the protective wards should have been put into place around her - Satan, can you verify?”
Satan?!?
Satan hopped down over the podium, easily six feet, and landed without a sound. He slowly made his way to MC, stretching out his hand towards her. It was glowing slightly.
MC shuffled as far back on the chair as she could. “Woah, what are you doing?” she said.
Satan flapped his other hand distractedly. “Don’t worry, it’s harmless. I’m just checking if the protective wards have fully settled. You may feel a slight tingling. I’ll have to do it a few times, so the quicker I do this, the quicker it’s over with.”
He waved a hand around her face, muttering under his breath. His finger started glowing brighter and he reached out to touch her cheek with it. He had bright green nail polish on. It didn’t match the green of the bowtie or of his eyes.
I have a feeling I’ve found the ambitious graphic designer for that contract.
MC’s cheek was tickling fiercely. She scrunched up her face. “Yeah, but my face? Can’t you test my arm or something?”
He started looking impatient. “Look, I know what I’m doing with this. I’ll test your arm next.”
MC grudgingly shuffled back towards him. She kept one eye trained on Satan as she tuned back in with what the others were saying.
“ ...would set us back months, Lucifer. Our other exchange students are already here. The whole point was to foster inter-realm relations. How can we do that with only two realms here?”
“Clearly the contract was… not effective. Doesn't that undermine the entire basis of what you were aiming for? If the participants did not have informed consent, we have effectively started off this exchange student experience with a kidnapping.”
MC restained herself from rolling her eyes.
Another voice chimed in. “If Solomon catches wind of this, he won’t be very happy.”
“Yes, thank you Asmodeus, I am aware.” Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose in a practised motion, frowning into his palm.
MC took the opportunity to look at the two last people in the room in more detail.
On Lucifer’s left sat the man who’d been touching up his makeup almost the entire time that she’d been awake. He was, without exaggeration, the most beautiful person she’d ever seen. His face was perfectly symmetrical. His skin was completely clear, lashes thick and curled perfectly, each one pointing evenly in a different direction. Hair curled in gentle waves around his face, shining with a gentle iridescence. Even his body seemed perfectly proportioned. He wasn’t small, but he wasn’t tall either. His features were so delicate one could only think of youth and innocence when they looked at him. His eyes were like jewels. She couldn’t be sure of their colour, one moment seemingly a jade green, then gleaming with a topaz hue when he moved his head just so. His pupils were tiny onyxes nestled in the endless blooming depths of his irises. He sat like he knew there were eyes on him, one leg crossed over the other, spine straight, head tilted. Every movement was balanced. He was the kind of person one would wage a war for - and he knew it.
He turned and scanned the room almost as soon as her gaze landed on him, like he could sense her attention. He caught her eye and winked.
For a split second, it felt like the world went woozy. MC wavered for a moment on the spot, and then reality came rushing back. MC shrunk back a little, eyes wide.
Satan stopped his poking for a moment and scowled. “Knock it off, Asmo,” he said, irritated. “This is complicated.”
Asmo pouted. And winked.
It was the same all over again - except, this time, it was only for a millisecond that the world spun. MC didn’t move, keeping a cautious eye on Asmo.
Asmo frowned.
“Asmo!” Satan snapped.
“Okay, okay,” Asmo muttered.
MC looked at the last man in the room. He sat apart from everyone else, shrouded in shadows. He was almost as broad as she was tall. In his manner, he seemed unobtrusive, almost insignificant, slouching down against his seat. If he were anyone else, MC felt he'd probably melt into the background.
But with his stature it was simply impossible. He could quite easily have picked her up and balanced her in one huge, dinner plate sized palm. Apart from Diavolo, MC had never seen someone who was simply so large. It wasn’t just his height - though there was plenty of that. His features were large on his face, and his face seemed large to accommodate them. Even his uniform seemed specially made to fit him, with larger buckles, a larger tie and larger buttons to cap it all off.
On another person, his features may have seemed exaggerated, each so strong that individually they would have dominated his face. On him they simply seemed natural, each balancing out the other. For a moment, she thought the flickering candlelight was playing trickes on her, because his skin seemed to shift under her eye - until it struck her that he was covered in thousands of freckles that spanned every part of his body she could see.
He sat hunched over a little, staring away from her, to his right. He held one wrist in his other hand, rubbing it absently with a small frown on his face. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention at all to her or anyone else in the room.
“Well, I for one like our new exchange student,” Satan declared as he finished up with a final, forceful poke to her belly. “Which is fortunate, because the wards are well and truly bonded.”
Lucifer dropped his head into his hands.
“What does that mean? Bonded?” MC asked anxiously.
“It means you’re stuck here.” Satan said brightly.
“What?!”
Diavolo shot Satan a disapproving look. “You are not stuck here. ‘Bonded’ in this sense just means that the wards we cast to protect our newest exchange student have attached themselves to your… essence, if you will, well enough that it would be quite difficult to remove them. It’s not a bad thing. The wards we created are there to protect you.”
MC’s confusion must be showing on her face, because he added, “The wards were built into the contract itself. Once we had selected a candidate, and sufficient notice had been given, the wards would begin the process of bonding themselves to you while you were still in the human world. It’s a process that can take some time, so it was more efficient for us to build it directly into the system itself rather than to set them up once you arrived. Unfortunately, it also means that it would be quite difficult to remove them from you. And in any case it would be functionally useless, as once wards are bonded they cannot be used for anyone else.”
He paused for a moment, a hopeful look crossing his face. "You haven't received any documentation about this recently?"
MC shook her head. "My address has changed a few times in the past few months." She considered what she'd learned, rubbing her stomach absentmindedly. “So… what do the wards actually do?”
Diavolo brightened. “Lots of things! We designed these wards specifically for our new human exchange student. You’ve got various standard protection charms - any harm cast upon you will rebound back to the caster twofold, nullification spells, that sort of thing. But we’ve also done something very special; during your stay here, you will be able to borrow demonic magic from demons - or others - that choose to share!” Diavolo was positively glowing.
He continued before MC could respond. “This is really quite revolutionary, as before the only method of sharing magic from demon to human was through a pact, and everyone knows that’s only a one way road, really. But with some development, there’s potential for significant exponential mutual magical growth! Or at least that’s what we’ve theorised, anyway. It’s completely safe, we’ve tested extensively, but of course we needed a naturally powerless human to truly test it, which is where you come in…”
Diavolo started to talk about something he called ‘magical theory’ which pretty much all went over MC’s head.
“...and Pasham’s theory of magical exchange comes into play pretty often in demon on human magic but -”
“Lord Diavolo. Sir.” MC did feel bad cutting him off when he was so excited, but this was out of her wheelhouse anyway. “When will I be able to go home?”
Diavolo eyebrows were raised. He was also beaming. It was a strange expression.
He took a moment to pull out a chair and sit next to her, a more serious expression coming across his face.
“Let me be perfectly candid with you, MC. Those wards you have, they were not easy to create. Finding another suitable candidate to become an exchange student will not be easy either. Term is starting soon, and we scheduled you to come before then for that exact reason. We simply do not have the time or energy to find someone else. So I would like to extend this opportunity to you.
I understand this is very sudden, as you were not informed of anything beforehand. You did not have time to prepare, and we brought you here with no notice or consent, and for that I apologise deeply.
We’ve confirmed with our human world workers that the method of delivery was completely unsuitable and there were multiple transgressors. I will personally address these issues and replace each person that allowed this to happen. You have my word.
So, simply put: here is the deal. Your period of stay is one year. You will live with the brothers in their dormitory, the House of Lamentation. You will participate in the RAD exchange program. You will attend and study with your peers, the majority of which will be demons. You will have to complete any tasks which are set to you, within reason. You will try your best to form connections with others, regardless of their species.
After one year, you will write a paper on your time here in the Devildom. It will contain feedback on the exchange program as a whole, your personal experiences as a human in the Devildom and any other feedback you feel would be useful.
We will provide you with all of your needs. Lodging, food and a monthly stipend to cover any loss in income. We will provide the best care to our ability. If at any point, you feel that it’s not working out, then we’ll reconvene and discuss next steps.”
He leaned forward and took her hands. His were burning hot, compared to her frigid ones.
His eyes were piercing. “What do you say?”