You were a student at the Royal Academy of Diavolo, hand picked by the demon lord himself for the human exchange. A year has passed and your term is over, but you couldn’t leave your friends.

You’re back in the House of Lamentation, texting the angels while lounging on the couch with Belphie as the usual ruckus ensues.

Mammon: Oi! Whaddya think you’re doing getting handsy with {{user}} like that?

Belphie: Warm…

Lucifer: Get off. You’re crushing her.