Chapter Text
“Absolutely not.”
The very first words out of the Housewarden of Heartslabyul’s mouth is one many students at Night Raven College have gotten acquainted with hearing; A straightforward denial for whatever foolish situation they wish to go about causing. He’s used to shooting down whatever chaos his dorm members want to wreck.
So it only makes sense that the very first words when he’s entered this new scenery (what was it called again? Devildom?) is another blunt denial.
Queen of Hearts be damned, he doesn’t care if these men are demons.
“I beg your pardon?” The tallest, redheaded man with vivid, golden eyes and tanned skin tilts his head. He doesn’t seem upset, merely curious and even a smidge amused at the denial.
Riddle steels his gaze, ignoring the man with dark hair that gives him an odd look. He crosses his arms across his chest and meets the man’s — he introduced himself as Diavolo — gaze.
“I cannot take part in this ‘Exchange Program,’” He explains as patiently as he can despite the ire beginning to pound in his veins. What mess has Crowley thrust upon someone else’s shoulders this time? And why did it have to be him? “I have far too many duties to fulfill at Night Raven College, duties that I cannot complete from an entirely different realm.”
Unfortunately, Diavolo does not seem to share his worries as he only laughs. Riddle feels his brow twitch and takes a deep breath to keep his anger down. He’s gotten much better at controlling his emotions since his overblot. It’s a struggle, and it doesn’t come naturally yet, but he’s getting better.
(He misses the way the blonde demon on the sidelines perks up and fixes Riddle with a calculating look.)
“Don’t worry!” Diavolo smiles, “Your Headmage, Crowley, assured us that all duties would be taken care of in your absence.”
Riddle feels a headache begin to grow.
“With all due respect, Lord Diavolo, you don’t know Crowley the way the students at our school do,” He shakes his head, “He is unreliable at best. Not to mention, I never agreed to take part in this program, nor was I even made aware of it to begin with. I’m certain my mother never agreed either.” Why would she? She’s had a rigid plan set for Riddle since his birth. This system only disrupts it.
“Crowley explained that your parents readily agreed,” Diavolo counters, “Perhaps they’d made the decision without you. It’s not uncommon for human parents to make choices about their children’s schooling on their own, I’ve heard.”
These demons think he’s human.
A common misconception, even among the student body at NRC. Unfortunately, Riddle’s anatomy is much more complicated than that of a human’s. As typical from someone with Old Wonderland ancestry, many natives to the Queendom of Roses can be considered something much madder in comparison to a standard human.
“She would not,” He affirms, “I would like to formally request a withdrawal from this program. I have an entire dorm to lead back home, and my dorm members have a tendency to both cause and attract chaos when they aren’t leashed properly.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for such a request,” Diavolo denies, “Everything has already been processed. From now on, you’re an official student of RAD!”
Riddle’s eye twitches.
What a foolish ruler this demon is. Claiming to strive for peace between realms, and yet he completely waves off real concerns in favor of smiling and pushing on to get his desired outcome. Had Riddle been in his place, he would have addressed the issue of an unwilling participant in the program and ensured they returned home swiftly. He would have made sure Crowley got a talking to for sneaking an unwilling student into a situation they had no desire to be a part of.
But Riddle is not in Diavolo’s place. He is in the place of the unwilling participant and Diavolo is certainly doing an exemplary job of making him feel safe in this new environment. If the demon were to so easily wave off a concern as colossal as this, what other issues could he ignore? Would he dismiss Riddle’s fear should his life fall in real danger?
The redhead makes his displeasure known by the scowl on his face as he cradles his temple.
Thankfully, the raven-haired man that had been accompanying Diavolo and helping Riddle understand, Lucifer, steps forward.
“I understand the concern, being pulled from your work when you have so much to do is a stressful feeling,” He sighs, shaking his head, “I’m sure we can organize something that would let you communicate with those from your realm, that way you can see to your duties on your own time.”
Not quite what Riddle wants, but he supposes it’s a reasonable compromise. He understands Lucifer is not in power like Diavolo is, but he is willing to use the power he does have to come to a middleground that can somewhat clear Riddle’s main worries.
“That is appreciated,” He nods, feeling a gratefulness for the Avatar of Pride.
From there, Riddle is given his own version of the Devildom’s cell phone, and is informed of what is expected of him throughout the exchange program. The redhead feels a bitter distaste for Diavolo building on the underside of his tongue the longer the demon talks. He never wanted to be a part of this, he was perfectly content back at NRC.
He was content back at NRC, where things were changing. Nothing was perfect. Riddle still made mistakes, he still got angry over things that did not deserve his anger. He still yelled and expected far too much of himself and other people.
But he was getting better.
Everyone had been so patient and understanding with him. Trey, Cater, Ace, Deuce, Yuu, Che’nya, and even the other Housewardens as well to a degree. They all knew he was trying, and that he had some things that needed to be unlearned because he had no one that would help him do so before.
He doesn’t have that here.
Riddle no longer has Trey, or Cater, or Che’nya, or anyone that cares enough to help. He’s surrounded by demons, who live under a ruler that doesn’t take his concerns seriously.
And he has no choice but to continue on in this unfamiliar world and hope that he can at least get back in contact with everyone like the Avatar of Pride has promised him.
So Riddle will just have to do what he does best.
Follow the rules.
After the redhead fumbles with the phone (He struggles enough with the regular technology from his own realm, why does this one have so many more features…?) he meets the supposed Avatar of Greed, Mammon. He is…
“No way! There ain’t nothin’ in it for me!”
An acquired taste.
Riddle will admit that witnessing Mammon rush to retract his words as soon as Lucifer starts to slowly count down is both amusing and familiar. He remembers employing the very same tactic on Ace, at the very beginning of the year, when the freshman had been unaware Riddle was standing behind him and listening to his blatant (but, admittedly earned at the time) disrespect. Holding more self preservation than their companion, Deuce and the other Heartslabyul seniors had been aware of Riddle’s presence and were doing their best to alert the thickheaded boy without offending the Housewarden.
Looking back on the moment, Riddle can acknowledge it was comedic. Even if he’d been irritated at the time.
When Riddle finally meets Mammon face-to-face, he is reminded starkly of a certain cat-like monster with a pitch-forked tail. It is not a fond comparison, though the demon’s brash nature reminds Riddle plenty of Ace, a much more affectionate thought than comparing him to Grim. Ace may be on his way to give Riddle early white hairs, but he is someone Riddle cares about and would drop everything for if he were in trouble. The freshman is troublesome, but Riddle knows that he is much kinder than he lets on.
He is unsure if the same can be said for Mammon, with his brash words and rough personality. He recognizes much of the same traits that Ace often expresses, but he’s unsure if he will find the same heart of gold that his freshman possesses if he were to dig through the Avatar of Greed’s personality and feelings.
He’s not sure if he wants to.
Meeting the Avatars is a breeze in total, though Riddle can’t help but feel unease at their nonchalance about him being eaten. He supposes he feels most safe about Satan, the Avatar of Wrath, but given his title and the way he’d reacted to Lucifer’s remarks, that certainly isn’t saying much.
It’s made quite clear very early on in his introductions that these demons could care less about him and his safety. No amount of “you’re our responsibility”s from Lucifer will give off the impression that any of them would care if he got hurt after hearing about how Beelzebub might eat him. Especially since the main motivation for Lucifer’s efforts seems to be Diavolo himself, a demon Riddle already does not care for much.
He doesn’t like that one of these said demons is going to be looking after him. He feels safer on his own, frankly. Regardless of whatever other demons may attempt to target him, it can’t be worse than being stuck with seven, obviously very high in power, demons that don’t care about his safety and only view him as a little dog that they never wanted.
Riddle supposes that out of all the Avatars he’s met, it’s slightly relieving that it’s the one that reminds him most of one of his friends back home.
“All right, human, listen up,” Mammon begins and Riddle has to fight back his eye roll. Again with the human thing. Maybe he should start addressing them each as demon. “As much as I don’t want to look after you, I’ve got no choice. It’s a huge pain in the ass, and I’m too important for this kind of thing, but Lucifer told me to do it, so I will. But in return, you better make sure you don’t cause me any trouble, got it?!”
Riddle takes a moment, silently staring at the tanned-skin demon. He eyes the supposed Avatar of Greed from head to toe, ignoring the snort Asmodeus gives at the action.
“How charming of you,” Riddle murmurs, crossing his arms and shaking his head, “Very well.”
Mammon gives him a firm nod, “Good, that’s what I want to hear. As long as you do as I say, we won’t have any problems. Just be sure you don’t forget which of us is the boss here.”
Riddle’s lip curls.
Riddle wants Ace back, not this jerkish demon that clearly thinks Riddle is below him just because he isn’t a demon.
From there, Lucifer introduces Riddle to his duties as an (unwilling) exchange student at this school. The students of the school are assigned tasks they must complete, and Riddle will have his own. Lucifer describes something about his soul that completely goes over Riddle’s head that he doesn’t particularly care about.
(“Finish that chapter before seven, and only when you finish will you be allowed dinner.”
The ticking of a clock, welts in his palms, an aching abdomen and growling stomach. Drips of ebony on textbook pages, on his desk and his pen.)
“What if I fail to complete some of my tasks?” Riddle inquires, ignoring the pit cracking open in his stomach.
“There is no penalty set,” Lucifer answers pleasantly before smiling at Riddle, “Would you like me to think of one?”
Riddle resolutely ignores the chilling fear that claws its way up his throat, pressing his lips together as he narrows his eyes at the demon.
“There, there, don’t give me that look,” Lucifer chuckles.
Riddle bites his tongue, fighting back the rage that wants to encompass his chest.
He wants to go home. He wants to curl up in the hedgehog pen and let the colorful little animals scurry all over him. He wants to sit in the lounge with Trey and Cater, a plate with a slice of strawberry tart on the table the focus of his attention. He wants to coach Ace and Deuce about the proper ways to feed the flamingos, confident in their ability to complete the task as necessary despite the stress they bring him. He wants to be able to invite Yuu to tea and chat pleasantly with them about nothing and everything, now with a deeper understanding and appreciation of them for being sent to another world with no one willing to respect them.
He just wants to be anywhere but here.