“Um... my lord...” Barbatos starts. Diavolo turns towards his trusted butler, the small human cradled to his chest, still fast asleep as they walk through the portal. “Perhaps it’s best she not have a weapon when she wakes up?” “Hm? Oh yes,” Diavolo chuckles as he looks down at the sleeping girl, who’s clutching a wooden bat to her chest like it’s a stuffed animal. “A wise suggestion, Barbatos,” Lucifer smirked, eyeing the girl as well.
It’s a good thing they made that decision.
“WHAT THE FUCK AND WHERE THE FUCK-“ Ophelia wakes with a start, jumping up into a defensive stance, eyes darting around wildly for her bat. She finds it in the hands of a strange man, presumably one of her kidnappers, and slowly sinks back into her seat with that realization. “Not fair,” she scowls, crossing her arms. “Pardon?” Barbatos blinks. “I have my bat to use against intruders if someone ever came into my house at night. You kidnap me in my sleep, and take my bat! What even was the point?” She whines.
Diavolo beams at her and begins detailing how she wasn’t exactly kidnapped, that she was the new exchange student, they were demons, and this was Hell. When he finished, Ophelia gawked at him. Her eyes surveyed the room and she stood from her chair, nodding slowly, before murmuring something to herself.
Then she simply laid down on the floor, wrapped in her bedsheet, and closed her eyes.
“You will not display such disrespect in front of the Prince!” Lucifer scowled, moving to stand over her. “Mm, fuck you,” came a sleepy response. “This is a dream, and maybe if I go back to sleep in it, I’ll wake up in real life.” Barbatos looked amused, coming to stand next to Lucifer. “You can try, my dear,” came Diavolo’s ever cheerful voice. “But I can assure you this is not a dream.”
The human opened one eye to fall upon Diavolo.
“...Right. So I’m in hell, and the demon prince is a total sweetheart who doesn’t want to devour my soul? Okay.” She burrowed further into her arms, determined to go back to sleep. Diavolo laughed happily, a light blush adorning his face. Lucifer scowled further.
“Why thank you! And you’re correct, I don’t want to eat your soul. But other demons might, which is why you’ll be in the care of the Seven Lords. You’ll live with them.” Ophelia groaned, sitting up, still swaddled in her bedsheet. “Fine,” she sighed. “I’ll play along.”
Her eyes fell upon a giant of a... “demon,” she supposed, who had a sad frown on his features. “Lucifer, I’m hungry!” “Too bad.” The orange-haired boy’s gaze fell onto Ophelia. “You look good enough to eat, like a burrito,” he said, drooling slightly.
“Oh hell no.” Ophelia scrambled to her feet, almost tripping on the sheet, and shuffled towards Diavolo.
“Please tell me he isn’t one of the Seven Lords...” Diavolo places a hand on her shoulder as she glared at the mammoth of a demon suspiciously. Even sitting, he looked huge. “Well, unfortunately...”
“Introductions,” Lucifer picked up for him. “I am Lucifer, as you know. Avatar of Pride and first-born. This is Satan,” he gestured to the blonde, who had been silently observing the situation. “He looks calm and friendly, but don’t let the smile fool you. It’s a facade. This is the Avatar of Wrath and fourth-born.” Satan smirked, brilliant green eyes fixed onto Ophelia. She didn’t like them.
”So is this a Seven Deadly Sins thing?”
Her question was ignored.
“Asmodeus,” Lucifer gestured to the least intimidating of the men. Smaller built, a more average height, and lean. He cooed at her, waving his fingers, and Ophelia found herself once more shuffling further into the Prince’s side. “Avatar of Lust, fifth-born. And Beelzebub here is the sixth-born, Avatar of Gluttony.”
Ah. Makes sense. “He won’t eat you, despite what he says. Everything looks like food to him when he’s hungry.” As if on cue, the giant’s stomach grumbled. “Luciferrr,” he whined. The eldest ignored him. Suddenly, Asmodeus was right in her face, immediately breaking her personal bubble, and to her dismay, Diavolo pulled away to allow the lustful demon to give her a once-over.
“Aren’t you just precious! Here, look into my eyes, dear.” “I wouldn’t suggest doing that.” Satan finally spoke. “Oh don’t listen to him. Come on now, I won’t hurt you.” Fine. “Yes, just like that!” There was a few beats of awkward silence.
“What are we doing here,” Ophelia deadpanned.
Asmodeus frowned. “How odd... my powers don’t seem to work on you...” Before he could say or do more, Lucifer stepped in front of him, holding out a device to the human.
“This is your D.D.D.-“ “A phone?” “No, it’s a D.D.-“ “D.D.D. Daddy’s demonic dicks and whatever, it’s a fucking phone.”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed and Diavolo quickly jumped in while Satan snickered. “Yes! It is, what humans would call, a phone. Lucifer, why don’t you tell her who will be looking after her?”
“Mammon,” Lucifer nearly growled. He shoved the device at her and she took it, not at all graciously. “You are to call him,” Lucifer sneered, “and tell him he is in charge of your safety and well-being. And to come pick you up.”
Ophelia silently clicked on the contact titled “Mammon,” not caring to piss off the demon that radiated power any further. Yes, she liked to push, but knew when to stop. “Yo, yo, yo, the Great Mammon here, who’s this?” A loud voice on the other line had Ophelia holding the phone away from her ear.
“Uhhh... Ophelia. The... human.”
“Diavolo’s exchange student? Well what business do ya have callin’ me? I got things ta do ya know!”
“Lucifer said you’re in charge of me.”
“What!? No way, nuh-uh, I’m not playin’ babysitter to some damn human!”
“Well Lucifer said so.”
“I don’t give a damn! Ya think the Great Mammon can be bossed around?”
“Yes, I do, actually, and Lucifer isn’t in a great mood by the way, you’re welcome, so I suggest you come pick me up.”
The line was silent and she noticed that Lucifer was calmer, looking even slightly amused. “Fine,” the demon called Mammon growled, and abruptly, the line hung up. “Well, that would be Mammon,” Lucifer smirked. “Avatar of Greed and second-born.”
“Is entrusting her to him the best idea?” Beelzebub asked. Asmodeus scoffed. “Better than you, Beel, you’d eat her.” The glutton’s eyes fell onto Ophelia again and he licked his lips. She shuddered and wanted nothing more than to hide, but what came out of her mouth was...
“Back off, big guy, I’ll bite your ankles.”
Before anyone could really react further, aside from Asmo who was chuckling, the door was thrown open and an angry, snowy-haired demon stomped in. “My Lord,” he grumbled, barely acknowledging Diavolo, who didn’t seem to mind the informalities.
Seriously, how was the Demon Prince of Hell so calm, kind, and unbothered?
“You.” His gaze fell onto Ophelia and his eyes were the first that Ophelia could study without feeling uncomfortable under their stare.
And wow, did this Mammon demon have lovely eyes.
They were blue and gold, mixing together, blue on top fading into gold on the bottom of the iris. Golden-blue eyes, somehow very fitting for the Avatar of Greed.
Mammon surveyed her, still wrapped up in a bedsheet. “Well ya can’t go out like that.” “Well I can’t go out with what I’m wearing underneath,” Ophelia countered, embarrassed, but refusing to let onto that fact.
“Aight, keep the sheet on, lets go, human.” He grabbed her arm rather forcefully and she scowled, but allowed him to pull her out of the room. He let her go as he began leading her out of the castle. Apparently, they hadn’t been very far in, because they were at the main entrance in no time.
Ophelia adjusted the sheet to wear it like a towel after a shower, lifting the material that dragged on the ground up and over her bare shoulders. Satisfied with her makeshift coverup, she continued to follow Mammon.
Mammon was much taller than her, and took long strides, but Ophelia managed to fall into step with him, although for every one step he took, she took three.
Mammon noticed, but kept the smile that wanted to form suppressed in a stubborn scowl.
Ophelia had figured he’d ignore her on their walk back, with how put out he seemed by all of this, (not like she’d asked for it, it wasn’t her fault), but Mammon talked.
No, talk wasn’t the right word. Mammon complained.
Ophelia would have preferred the cold shoulder.
After complaining about her, to her, for a solid five minutes of walking, Ophelia snapped. “Will you kindly shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be here either!” Mammon’s eyebrows shot up and he finally looked down at her. “Excuse me? I’d watch who you’re talking to, human.” He snarled, but continued walking, his body remaining relaxed. Words without matching body language couldn’t scare her, and she rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
But Mammon did shut up, and the next three minutes were silent. To Ophelia’s surprise, the silence was... comfortable. No tension hung in the air, nor was it awkward as they walked quietly. Mammon must have really listened and thought about her statement of being thrown into the situation as much as him.
For that, Ophelia was grateful.
Mammon’s hands had been in his pockets for their journey thus far, but as they began down a populated street, Mammon slid an arm around her waist. Ophelia stiffened at the contact.
Luckily, his hand was more towards her thigh, arm almost resting on her butt, so there was no violent reaction, as there would have been to him touching her back. Still, her muscles pulled taut. “Relax,” Mammon grumbled. “I’m keepin’ ya from gettin’ eaten alive.” Sure enough, when Ophelia looked around, there were multiple, hungry eyes fixated on her.
Ophelia found herself leaning into Mammon’s side and his hold tightened. Ophelia didn’t notice the pink dusting his cheeks as she kept her eyes out for danger. This looked more like Hell.
Finally, the population of demons on the streets subsided, once again becoming desolate. Mammon didn’t remove his arm, and Ophelia didn’t complain.
She just hoped he didn’t feel her trembling.
A house came into view. Actually, more of a mansion than a house. Something straight out of a horror film. “Welcome to the House of Lamentation,” Mammon announced, finally removing his arm as they started up the walkway.
Ophelia followed Mammon into the grand foyer, marveling at the gothic decor. She didn’t have long to admire it before Mammon was ushering her along. Up the stairs and a few turns later, they were at a door that Mammon unceremoniously threw open.
Ophelia couldn’t help the look of awe on her face stepping into the bedroom. Mammon scoffed, leaning against the doorway. Before Ophelia could even begin to really take in the room, Mammon grumbled. “This is your room. You shouldn’t leave it. I’ll probably be the one to fetch you for dinner. Settle in.” With that, Mammon turned on his heel, and slammed the door behind him.
Ophelia shrugged it off and wandered further into the space. Although, she questioned how she was supposed to “settle in” without any of her things.
As she surveyed the room, the awe came creeping back. It was beautiful. A live tree occupied one corner, the branches reaching out over the bed, acting as a natural canopy. Lanterns hung from the branches, giving the room a glorious ambience.
Against the wall by the door was a large bureau, with four drawers, and a sliding door. A jewelry box and lamp sat atop it. On the wall opposite her large bed, was a bookcase shaped as a coffin, and a standing, full length mirror. There was a door leading into an adjacent room, which she figured led to a bathroom.
Something on the bed caught her eye. Her favorite fluffy blanket, folded neatly, and her wooden bat laying next to it. Ophelia picked up the blanket. It smelled of her perfume, it was indeed hers.
Did that mean...?
Ophelia opened one of the drawers, pleased to find some of her clothes. A quick check through the dresser revealed that somehow, her entire wardrobe was here. So the jewelry box...
All of her jewelry was in place. A quick look at the bookcase revealed some of her own books from home scattered amongst unfamiliar ones. She beamed. Diavolo had really brought all her stuff to make her stay more comfortable. Suddenly, she wasn’t as angry with the situation.
The last place to check was the bathroom. An audible gasp slipped past her lips when she opened the door. The bathroom was gorgeous. The bathtub was large and spacious, easily able to fit two people comfortably. It was lovely. The ambience was lowly lit, and incredibly calming. With a start, Ophelia realized that her favorite Bath Body Works soaps and lotions adorned the edge of the tub.
This kind of unsettled Ophelia, as she hadn’t been able to get to the mall for her favorite products in months, due to the pandemic. For Diavolo, or maybe Barbatos, to know what she liked meant they had to have been watching her for a while.
Ophelia shuddered, but did it really matter anymore?
She was here now.
The beautiful bath with all her favorite scents was incredibly tempting to start, but Ophelia decided against it, as she didn’t trust one of the brothers not to burst in during her soak.
She wandered through her room, debating her next move. She was restless, but wasn’t ready to go against Mammon’s suggestion to not leave her room. The five brothers she had met so far weren’t exactly friendly, and she had yet to meet the other two.
Besides, she couldn’t even remember the path back to the front door.
Reading wouldn't work, there was no way she could focus on the words. There really wasn’t anything else to do besides sleep. Ophelia wasn’t sure if she could relax enough for that, but she could try. She crawled onto the bed, not bothering to unmake it, and was thrilled to find her custom pillow amongst the ones provided.
She finally discarded the sheet, opting to wrap herself up in her fluffy blanket instead. She laid down on her pillow and curled around her bat. Her mind began sorting through the day's events.
She didn’t like Lucifer. He reminded her way too much of him and she was frankly proud of herself for not having a traumatic episode. Despite his resemblance, he hadn’t set off any triggers. Lucifer honestly gave off “strict single mom” vibes more than anything. Still, he was clearly very powerful, and Ophelia was intimidated, although she wouldn’t show it.
Mammon was... layered. He was kind of an ass, but she could see that it was a front. She’d gotten peeks under the mask through their short interactions, but not enough to make a judgment of character. Standoffish and arrogant were the first words that came to mind.
She didn’t know how to feel about Satan. She didn’t like how he looked at her, as though he knew things about her that she didn’t even know about herself. Like he was dissecting her. But he was rational, and didn’t exactly radiate danger without being provoked.
Asmo was a creep, plain and simple. Apparently he’d been trying to seduce her when he had her look into his eyes. She was angry about that, but at least it didn’t work. He was a creep, but not a threat. If excessive flirting was his game, she’d take that over being eaten any day.
And she didn’t like Beel. He was large, intimidating, and wanted to eat her. What else was there to say?
So she hadn’t met the third brother or the youngest brother. Envy and Sloth, but in what order, Ophelia didn’t know.
She drifted off into a dreamless sleep.