Leviathan wasn't gaming with his usual vigor. He lost over half of his HP to a random ambush and barely survived 30 seconds against a miniboss he was definitely prepared for. It was like watching an amateur. Any other day, he could probably game better with his eyes closed.
It was his birthday. He should be in top shape.
"Something on your mind?" you asked after he tried to complete a quest with only 2 of the 3 necessary items.
"No," he immediately replied, eyes not wavering from the screen. A few seconds of silence later he hit pause and admitted, "well, kind of..."
Leviathan turned to face you while cheery 8-bit menu music played in the background. "Do you remember that thing you tried to do yesterday? I, uh, was hoping... maybe, if you're up for it, you could try... that... again."
You thought back to yesterday. You had tried a lot of things. You tried a potato chip after Beelzebub and Mammon lied about it being pizza flavored, only to discover it tasted like wet grass. You tried convincing Lucifer to hire a cleaning service so you wouldn't have to scrub the bathroom sink and got immediately shot down. You tried to show Leviathan a song you thought he'd like, but it wouldn't load after the first 5 seconds and you gave up.
That had to be it.
"Oh, the song?" You reached for your DDD, confident the link was still in your history.
"No, not that. The other thing. The h..." Leviathan's voice got weaker and he trailed off.
You couldn't figure out what he said. "What?"
"T-the... You know!! Do I really have to say it?"
You nodded and he grimaced.
"The... the... theheadpat," he said quietly, words falling out of his mouth all at once.
You stared at Leviathan, trying to puzzle out what he was saying. He watched as the lightbulb in your head went off and your eyes lit up with understanding. It was cute, even if he was having a moment.
"You'll let me touch your head? You won't run away this time?" you joked, recalling how he flinched the day prior and sprinted out of the room.
"I didn't run away," he insisted, "y-y-you just caught me off guard! My heart wasn't prepared."
Leviathan was prepared now. When you eagerly sat up to deliver the pats, he crouched beside you and grabbed your wrist. His palm was sweaty, not from the game controller, as he guided you to the crown of his head. He must have thought about this moment all night and washed his hair extra well in anticipation, because you immediately felt how soft and fluffy it was.
You sunk your fingers into it and sifted his part from side to side. "Ooh, this feels nice!"
Leviathan covered his face with both arms and bowed over, laying his covered face in your lap. "Y-yeah, it does," he agreed. Even though you could barely hear him, you could plainly see how red his ears were when you scratched at the side of his scalp.
His shoulders twitched when your fingers trailed towards the nape of his neck. He held his breath when you grazed your nails against his skin and traced zigzags around his forehead. You could feel him ball his hands atop your thighs and squish his nose harder into his elbow.
Leviathan made a lot of sounds as you pet his head, from closed-mouth moans to squeaks of surprise. Though this was supposed to be a relaxing activity, and though it was quite fun for you, Leviathan's muscles were locked up. Every bone in his body, tense. He didn't even purposefully move until Belphegor barged in.
"Hey, are you guys ready for cake?" the youngest asked.
"GYargaaaghHh!" Leviathan responded, flinging himself across the room and into the corner of a shelf. He was as nimble as an acrobat receiving a career-ending injury.
"Yeah, I'd like some cake," you said. Your hands smelt like fresh bubbles from Leviathan's shampoo.
Leviathan pointed an accusatory finger. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking!? You! You know a password is needed to come in here! How dare you just come in like that!"
You couldn't tell if Leviathan was still red from embarrassment or if he took a page out of Satan's book and was burning with anger. Probably both. He continued, "What's the point of having a private bedroom if anyone can just come in any time they want? Huh? And on my birthday, of all days! Have you no respect for your older brother!?"
"Not really," Belphegor admitted, rolling his eyes at the tantrum, "but enough to chip in for your birthday cake. You coming, or should I tell Beel to eat your piece?"
This is darker than my usual stuff! Please watch out for themes of angst, violence, gore, pain and suffering. Each brother is represented under the read more. I'll have something silly posted tomorrow.
----------------------
You ran.
Your chest burned, as though your rapidly beating heart would give out from the strain at any moment. You couldn’t remember a time when you ran this desperately. It was a struggle to pull air into your lungs, but you fought the dizziness and the pain as you pushed forward on a bleeding leg.
Your ankle was bruised and twisted, these unfamiliar roads were not flat and well-paved like the main streets were. Brick and mortar storefronts you’d never seen before passed by in a blur. Every corner led to a new turn that pulled you deeper into the shady Devildom backstreets. Lights were few and far between and the stars in the sky could hardly shine between looming buildings that made the streets look narrower and narrower.
You ran as fast as you could, but it all felt so slow. Your head throbbed. Tears or blood or a combination of both, you couldn’t tell, mixed with sweat and slid off your dirt-covered face, leaving a perfectly traceable trail in your wake.
Something was chasing you. Something with a desire to kill and a shrill laugh that echoed in your ears. Something that hunted humans for sport and fancied you as its new target. The Devildom was full of these things and you had been blissfully unaware until now. The being had caught you off-guard on the way home from a long day at RAD. You were naive, the capital was supposed to be safe and you hadn’t expected this to happen despite knowing the Devildom was dangerous.
Whatever the reason, none of it mattered. You just needed to run. A streak of something dark blue whizzed past your ear, slicing cartilage. You couldn’t jerk away fast enough to avoid it.
Stumbling around a corner, you blindly fired a retaliatory blast of magic at it. The creature cackled as your attack ricocheted off a wall. Rubble and ash rained down on you. You were too busy squinting over your shoulder to notice that this street was a dead end until your legs finally gave out and you tumbled onto the hard rock, shoulder-first. It hurt. There was nowhere to hide and nowhere to return to. This was it.
It would have been impossible to chant an entire magical preamble and get to safety or do a proper summoning. Your thoughts were too jumbled, overridden by panic. Your voice was hoarse and your vision was fading. The attacker’s footsteps were close. You inhaled, forcing a breathful of dust and blood down your raw windpipe as you shouted his name into the sky.
Lucifer
Everything turned black as night.
Ah, you thought. I’m done.
You slumped into the road, a defenseless mortal wad of pain and anguish, angrily resigned to your fate. In a half-conscious state of deliriousness, you could hear Lucifer’s voice. He sounded madder than that one time he caught one of Asmodeus’ stalkers lurking around the house.
“You have some nerve, targeting my family.”
A gust of hot wind rolled over you. Dirt and sand bounced off your hand. The thought of Lucifer being mad was a strangely small comfort. Though it was something you always avoided, it was also familiar. You'd had to stop Lucifer from overly punishing his brothers on more than one occasion, and even been the source of his ire a number of times. You would rather live through a thousand more of his lectures than simply be torn apart in this obscure alleyway.
“Know your place,” Lucifer scowled, his voice a deep thundering rumble that cut through the creature’s screams.
You couldn’t process what was happening. Your muscles were locked up, everything hurt, your energy was sapped and time seemed to nebulously stretch on forever. You couldn’t even register the pitch black void in front of you as Lucifer’s outstretched wings, shielding you from the utter torture your tormentor was now facing before he ended their life. How very typical that Lucifer would show no mercy to a threat.
Your body was just trying to survive. It paid no heed to the maelstrom of magical power brewing, to the wickedly powerful demonic energy filling the alley. You don’t even know how you came to be cradled in Lucifer’s arms, bundled in his coat. Only that, when you came to, he was wiping your dirty cheek and slicking back matted hair to gaze into your unfocused eyes. His eyebrows were knit together in immense worry. His frown lines were deeper than usual, drawing a sharp border around his grimaced teeth. It was quite unlike him.
Yet there was no time for this. You were being chased. You tried to turn your head, to look over Lucifer’s shoulder and find where that hunter was lurking, oblivious to how the muscles in your neck refused to cooperate. Lucifer’s hold on your back tightened and he tucked you against his chest.
“It’s alright now,” he said. The Avatar of Pride’s voice, full of conviction, sounded like he was trying to assuage himself just as much as you. “I have you.”
“Lucifer?”
It seemed too good to be true, but he nodded in response. From the weak sound of your voice, his shoulders untensed just enough that you could feel them curve in around you.
“I have you,” he repeated. “Rest easy now. We’re going home.”
Mammon
There was a confusing flurry of movement as Mammon placed himself between you and the attacker. The Avatar of Greed looked uncannily menacing with fury in his eyes and an unforgiving scowl on his face. Air from his wings kicked up debris, turning the thin alleyway into a wind tunnel.
“How dare…” He snarled, clenching his hands into fists so hard that his veins popped under his skin. “How dare you touch what’s mine.”
The creature turned tail to run, clearly outmatched, but its fate was sealed the instant Mammon appeared. He caught up in a single leap while winding a punch that sent your attacker flying down the road, into the wall of the building on the corner. It collapsed, sending chunks of brick crashing to the ground while Mammon continued after it.
He didn’t plan ahead, he just moved. Millennia of fighting experience and a massive innate talent made this demon a horrifying predator, something you luckily didn’t see often. Mammon sent a burst of magic to further block the road and created an explosion, shooting smoke and flames into the air. The fiend had to pay dearly, and Mammon would make sure to collect.
You could hear stone getting tossed aside, scattering across the pavement, and heavy whacks as he beat into the monster. The tables had been turned, there was nowhere for it to escape. Mammon’s knuckles ran black and red with its blood, which coagulated between the bent prongs of his rings as he finished the job, bringing the heel of his boot down upon the creature’s skull. An undignified ending for an undignified piece of trash.
Mammon was back at your side before the dust from the fallen wall settled, crying your name, falling to his knees as he lifted your shoulders and pulled you into his lap. He ran his hands over your face, over your arms, down your back in a panicked appraisal. All body parts accounted for.
“That hurts,” you mumbled through a busted lip. Everything hurt. Especially when Mammon gasped in relief and clutched you into a full-body embrace. You wished his jacket didn’t have so many cold metal studs.
“Man, you can’t scare me like this! Moron! Idiot!” he yelled into your shoulder while a warm tear rolled onto your arm. “Why didn’t ya call for me sooner? You could’ve died! How’m I ever supposed to let ya out of my sight if you’re gettin’ in trouble like this, huh!?”
Leviathan
There was a scream, but not from you or your attacker. Leviathan didn’t expect to be summoned into his worst nightmare. One calm moment he was mindlessly collecting daily game bonuses and the next instant his DDD was falling into the street as he stared at your unmoving figure.
You were still breathing, however, there was no time to stop and confirm that. Every kind of anxiety bubbled its way to the surface as Leviathan’s body moved on its own. His teeth clacked together and he couldn't swallow. His tail lashed from side to side, cracking like a whip as heavy raindrops began to flood the alleyway.
Whoever did this was not going to escape. As though playing through a game he'd beaten a dozen times before, the Avatar of Envy’s eyes expertly locked on to his target. For a moment, all they did was stare at each other. The creature’s grin narrowed along with Leviathan’s eyes, and by the time it decided to escape Leviathan had already decided on its fate.
The creature got swept off its feet by a rising flood that came out of nowhere. Even if it could breathe under water, it would not survive the pressure for long.
Leviathan turned his back to hover over you, gloved hands shaking. A deluge cascaded down the alleyway, sparing only the two of you in your own little magic bubble. Heavy stones that had sat for centuries were carried away like pebbles. Building foundations cracked. The roar of water was deafening and drowned out the airless screams of your pursuer, but Leviathan could only hear the heartbeat pounding in his own ears. What was he going to do? What could he do?
A trickle of water had soaked through the dirt, turning part of the dry ground beneath you to mud. Unacceptable. Before he could even think of a proper plan, Leviathan scooped you into his arms and leaned you against him, cradling your head in the least awkward way he could imagine.
“H-hey… Say something?” It was hard for him to talk with tears welling up in his eyes that he couldn’t wipe away. He feared you were past the point of responding. His hands shook and his throat tightened.
The world sounded quiet inside the bubble, aside from Leviathan’s whimpering. You groaned and tried to move your foot, which swelled uncomfortably in its shoe. Leviathan nearly dropped you in relief.
Water, which had just begun receding outside, began falling anew from his eyes as he shakily repeated, “you’re alive! You’re alive!” and nuzzled his forehead against you.
Satan
Wrath flowed through Satan like wet ink on a page. If you asked him later what exactly happened, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. It was a blur to both you and him.
As soon as he laid eyes on you, weak and beaten and alone, Satan called your name. You didn't respond. He dug his nails into his palm, coiled his tail tightly around his leg, and called your name again. After the third time, he saw your finger move and could breathe.
Reason could wait for later. Something stirred in the shadows behind you and Satan really needed a punching bag.
The air grew thick with curses stacked upon curses, layered over one another into deadly combinations that would haunt a being into their afterlife. Though you weren’t the intended recipient, it became a miasma that settled over your skin like a fine blanket and turned your thoughts to haze.
Satan lashed out verbally, speaking the spells you couldn’t and damning the creature into a personal hell of his creation. He shouted his voice hoarse. When the creature could no longer move, or speak, or do anything, Satan tore it apart limb from limb. To complete and total shreds that could never be pieced back together again, until his fury ran its course and gave way to more unpleasant feelings. Desperation, worry, guilt and grief.
He was still mad. Mad at you for not summoning him sooner. Mad at himself for not being there when you needed him. Mad at the universe for being so cutthroat and unforgiving, for allowing such a thing to happen in the first place. It was a deep pit of unpleasantness and you were the one spark of hope that could keep him sane.
He couldn’t let that spark go out. Satan crouched next to you, hovering his hands over your injuries. “It’s okay now,” he said. “It’s gone. I’ll get you home.”
Where was he supposed to touch? He tried to puzzle out the best way to lift you without causing more pain, but no matter what he did, it would hurt. You cried out upon realizing your shoulder was dislocated and ankle most likely broken, shattering his heart into more pieces as he sifted you in his arms.
Satan grit his teeth once more and buried his face in your hair. He gripped you a little too hard, justifying it with the idea that it would stop your bleeding. “I’m sorry it hurts, but hang in there for now. You can be mad at me later.”
Asmodeus
“Hey, hon?”
Asmodeus sounded unnervingly calm. His usual bubbly demeanor was gone. That consistent high pitched energy he brought to every conversation had shifted. You thought you were hearing things. Maybe an angel was talking to you.
“Hon, I need you to look at me.”
Eyelids that felt like steel curtains refused to cooperate. Every time you wrestled your eyes open a smidge, they would fall shut again, blocking out the overstimulating world around you with a deep darkness.
“Stay with me, hon. Look at me. That’s right, just like that.”
You could barely make out Asmodeus’ gorgeous face practically glowing above you. Everything was too bright, and your ears rang as he continued, his voice ever so slightly cracking, “Look only at me and nothing else. Can you do that?”
Some noise of agreement welled out of your throat and Asmodeus grinned sadly. His beautiful demonic form took up your entire vision as your senses gradually, painfully, returned. You realized you were standing, propped up on your own two injured legs but leaning heavily into the crook of Asmodeus’ upper arm. His elbow provided support for your lower back and his hand stretched out between your shoulder blades.
There was a horrible gurgling sound close by, punctured by chokes and desperate gasps and the occasional snap. Your limited line of sight trailed down Asmodeus’ neck and followed his outstretched arm. You craned your neck, willing it to move, to see what was in his hand.
“Ah-ah, eyes on me,” he reminded you, sweet as sugar. “You don’t have to look at anything else. Everything will be okay. Just focus solely on me, and then we can go home and take a nice bath together.”
You would have nodded if you could. Placing your whole attention on Asmodeus’ face gave you something to focus on other than the horrendous pain. He was looking at something just out of view with a cold concentration, yet every few seconds his eyes would flick towards your direction. The gurgling noise got weaker and weaker until, finally, Asmodeus dropped the unseen object in his hand and swept you off your feet, relieving your legs from having to strain any further.
“You did so well,” he cooed, brushing a strand of hair behind your bleeding ear. You had so many injuries. You’d need a whole lot of prescription kisses to get better, per doctor Asmodeus’ orders.
A light gust fanned your face as he flapped his wings, preparing for liftoff. “Eyes on me until we’re home, okay? Don’t look down, even for a second.”
Beelzebub
You had lost consciousness. Though, for how long was uncertain. The ground was shaking when you came to and you could see the sky again. The stars spinned. Your arms throbbed, one from its wounds and the other because you had collapsed on top of it, temporarily cutting off its circulation.
Everything was a total mess and loud noises bounced off what few walls remained on the street. Crunching, snapping, bones splitting in half. Seeing as you were still in one piece, the creature must have found something else to play with. Dust from the rubble billowed up in massive clouds. You hoped to escape under its cover through one of the now-destroyed buildings.
There was a chilling roar. A shout so loud and full of emotion it made the ringing in your ears sound quiet. You were temporarily paralyzed in fear, but the small bit of hope inside of you forced you to drag your leg up and move in order to crawl to shelter.
The sensation was grueling. You winced and gasped and tried to resist crumpling back up on the ground when suddenly, the sound stopped and something hurried your way.
A familiar tall silhouette with familiar red hair and black horns. An unfamiliar red and black streak shining in the starlight coated the front of his shirt. His wings twitched, shedding drops of blood that flecked the ground.
“You’re alive.” Beelzebub said it more for his own validation than yours. He rubbed his eyes to stop tears from welling up any further. It quickly dawned on him that his hands were covered in gore, which he quickly tried to hide by smearing the viscera on his pants.
Your mind was still out of sorts and you instinctively cowered when he rushed to your side. Beelzebub froze. He couldn’t see the pained expression you wore with your face turned towards the ground, but he saw how your entire body shook with its final traces of adrenaline.
“I’m sorry,” he said, approaching you more cautiously. “I should have come sooner. No, I should have walked home with you from the start.”
Beelzebub was not used to fragile things. He bent over you like a giant shield, blocking out the destruction he had caused. It was quiet. He dislodged a rock stuck to your shirt and studied all the cuts he was too late to prevent.
The calm allowed your brain stop racing enough to finally recognize him as a friend. You reached out a hand and he picked you up with as light a touch he could muster, supporting your aching knees and keeping your head nestled against his chest as he hugged your shoulders. The wet spot on his shirt was drying.
"You don't have to worry now," Beelzebub told you. "I'll take care of everything."
Belphegor
You couldn’t see a thing.
Somebody grabbed you from behind. Warm, slender fingers covered your eyes and a voice in your ear stated, “It’s okay. All of this is a bad dream.”
It did not feel like a dream. A banshee-like shriek pierced through the air and you thought your heart would stop. The grip on your face got tighter, almost suffocating. The whole world was dark.
“Everything is just fine,” Belphegor continued. “You’re having a nightmare but it will all be over soon.”
You were dragged back into a corner, away from the middle of the road. The Avatar of Sloth worked to get you somewhere safe first and foremost. Your shoes skid over the stone ground, sending jolts of pain up your knees as he instructed, “Keep your eyes shut.”
You settled into an uncomfortable slouched position against a cold wall. Belphegor tried to make things better, he knew a thing or two about comfort, but every position was uncomfortable in your state. His hand slid down off your face, making sure your heavy eyelids stayed closed, and you heard footsteps walk away from you. The soft tuft of Belphegor’s tail lingered by your leg just a second longer so you knew he was going to return.
“Disgusting,” he muttered. You didn’t hear it over the shout of agony, something inhuman that got cut off mid-cry. A clear thud indicated something fell to the ground. Then it was kicked.
“Just a bad dream,” Belphegor repeated between kicks. His voice was gentle in an unnatural way. Strained, like he was having a tough time keeping it together. “When you wake up, everything will be fine.”
Thud followed thud. It became rhythmic, like counting sheep, and it got more violent before it finally stopped.
Your own continuous pants of distress continued until Belphegor came back and gently pat your head. You did good, holding out this long and keeping your eyes shut for him.
“We’re going to share lots of good dreams together from now on, aren’t we?” he asked as he brought you against his shoulder and helped you stand, bearing most of your weight so your wounded feet were spared. “Forget all about this nightmare. When you open your eyes, you'll be safe and warm in bed with me.”
interestingly the visual novel will take place right after the banishment, so if we're talking timeline of the other games, it would be a year prior to nightbringer
THAT BEING SAID. i wonder if they're going to comply with the established canon or completely do an overhaul. in all honesty i think it'll be a mix of both, but mainly retconning a lot of what nightbringer established (so not much the og game. as for i do... i truly have no idea)
the blurb for the game specifies that MC will play the role of 'judge', which makes me wonder if it's the same MC with the other games or if this is a completely separate universe (or again, retconning nightbringer shenanigans. Additionally, I wonder if romance will play a huge part in this or if it's mostly centered on the character/charactrr dynamics/exploration. While I would like /some/ romance, I'm truthfully a lot more excited to dive deeper in depth of what is happening considering Lilith quite literally just died (assuming so) at the start of this game. Also, from the teaser, despite the focus of the game being Lucifer, i'm glad we're seemingly getting screentime for ALL the brothers (plus barb, dia... maybe even the angels? who knows, maybe we're finally gonna have a michael reveal...) and how they're going with the situation that's just oresented to them (considering at this point they still want to go back to the celestial realm)
ALSO... SATAN'S BIRTH??? ARE WE GONNA WITNESS IT???? HELLOOOOO???? again god i wonder how they're gonna go about it if they choose to keep NB canon (tbh the more i think about it, the more a retcon/completely alternate timeline seems to be the most plausible) anyways!!
i'm honestly so excited! the art looks gorgeous. AND FULLY VOICED!!! i've always thought obey me would make for an amazing VN, AND HERE WE ARE!! plis can we safely assume the rest of the cast are gonna get their own games? (OR: a branch-off game that takes place after this one with the typical choose-your-route approach for the rest of the cast.... which means... mephisto in the possible foreseeable future....???? 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞 LET ME COPE IN PEACE)
i can't wait!! 😭
BONUS: BARBATOS BACK VIEW WITH LONG HAIRRRRRRR (the blunt cut... never change babygirl)
HELLOOOO OK IM ACTUALLY AWAKE NOW APPARENTLY I GOT A COUPLE THINGS WRONG I THINK
somebody on twitter mentioned there being branching character stories, though i'm unsure if it's traditional "routes" or just character explorations (though, to be honest, i still think the 'romance' aspect will heavily focus on lucifer for this one, at least. but that means potential background lore for solo/dia/barb! and also the devildom king since he's probably awake at this point, right...?)
cocytus! we're going back!!! honestly one of my favorite arcs in nightbringer. the callback is back-tingling omfg. wdym WE'RE the ones who's gonna give the verdict this time... aoourrghhh....
IN OTHER NEWS.... MEPHISTO/THIRTEEN/RAOH CHARACTER SONGS CONFIRMED!!!! AGGWHQHSHQHSHUQUSH
interestingly the visual novel will take place right after the banishment, so if we're talking timeline of the other games, it would be a year prior to nightbringer
THAT BEING SAID. i wonder if they're going to comply with the established canon or completely do an overhaul. in all honesty i think it'll be a mix of both, but mainly retconning a lot of what nightbringer established (so not much the og game. as for i do... i truly have no idea)
the blurb for the game specifies that MC will play the role of 'judge', which makes me wonder if it's the same MC with the other games or if this is a completely separate universe (or again, retconning nightbringer shenanigans. Additionally, I wonder if romance will play a huge part in this or if it's mostly centered on the character/charactrr dynamics/exploration. While I would like /some/ romance, I'm truthfully a lot more excited to dive deeper in depth of what is happening considering Lilith quite literally just died (assuming so) at the start of this game. Also, from the teaser, despite the focus of the game being Lucifer, i'm glad we're seemingly getting screentime for ALL the brothers (plus barb, dia... maybe even the angels? who knows, maybe we're finally gonna have a michael reveal...) and how they're going with the situation that's just oresented to them (considering at this point they still want to go back to the celestial realm)
ALSO... SATAN'S BIRTH??? ARE WE GONNA WITNESS IT???? HELLOOOOO???? again god i wonder how they're gonna go about it if they choose to keep NB canon (tbh the more i think about it, the more a retcon/completely alternate timeline seems to be the most plausible) anyways!!
i'm honestly so excited! the art looks gorgeous. AND FULLY VOICED!!! i've always thought obey me would make for an amazing VN, AND HERE WE ARE!! plis can we safely assume the rest of the cast are gonna get their own games? (OR: a branch-off game that takes place after this one with the typical choose-your-route approach for the rest of the cast.... which means... mephisto in the possible foreseeable future....???? 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞 LET ME COPE IN PEACE)
i can't wait!! 😭
BONUS: BARBATOS BACK VIEW WITH LONG HAIRRRRRRR (the blunt cut... never change babygirl)
"My brothers are hooked on another strange game," Lucifer wrote into his group chat. The one for demons who conducted themselves like proper adults. "Watch that they don't drag you into it as well."
"Sounds like fun," Barbatos responded. Watching those six and their antics could be rather amusing, as long as they weren't a nuisance.
Diavolo's thought process was much the same. He meant it when he said, "I can't wait!"
The palace duo could hear Lucifer's deep sigh through their phone screens as he typed, "Don't encourage them."
---
It took a few hours for you to find Diavolo that day. People tend to be busy when they have a school named after them. He was walking down a corridor of RAD. Unaccompanied, alone, humming a jaunty tune to himself.
You signaled to your posse — Mammon, Leviathan, and Beelzebub. They smirked, gave a thumbs up, and nodded. The four of you peered around the corner at the lone prince, your heads stacked in a row like really bad cartoon spies.
"On my signal," you whispered, holding your hand steady to keep the demons at bay. You doubted you could catch Diavolo by surprise, but it was best to stay optimistic.
"Three... two... one..."
You jumped out, stumbling a little over Mammon's foot, and sprinted at full force down the hallway. Three pairs of footsteps thudded behind you, alerting the target that something was definitely happening. He glanced up with a jovial smile and began to wave.
"Get down, Mr. President!" you shouted, flinging yourself onto Diavolo.
He's a tall guy. You did your best to grab hold of his shoulders and basically cling to his front like a cicada. You didn't have the demonic strength necessary to push him down, but that's why the brothers were piling on after you.
Diavolo didn't flinch when Mammon arced through the air and landed on his arm. He didn't blink when Leviathan dove at his legs and put his knees in a chokehold. You wondered if he could even feel Beelzebub tackle his back like a charging elephant.
"What's going on?"
Diavolo asked so casually, like he was asking if his tie was on straight. The same tie you were tugging at in a fruitless attempt to make him fall over as you repeated, "Mr. President! You're in danger!"
"We'll save you!" Leviathan shouted, pulling at the crown prince's knees in a way that would make Mephistopheles faint.
"Get down, man!" Mammon had shifted into his demon form. His wings beat rough buffets of wind over your whole ensemble as he pushed his weight against Diavolo.
Beelzebub, with his arms around Diavolo's shoulders and his knees bumping against yours, said something. For some reason the words were obscured by a mouthful of collar.
The gears in Diavolo's brain were turning, and after a second of chaos he blurted out, "Oh! This must be the game Lucifer told me about. How do I play?"
He was answered by a flurry of "Mr. President!" "Get down!" "Mrhrh Prshidhnt!" "We'll protect you!"
"I see." Diavolo would have rubbed his chin thoughtfully if you weren't in the way, glued to his front like a koala with separation anxiety. "I'm Mr. President. I just need to get down, then?"
Two arms enveloped you. Diavolo embraced you warmly, shielding your head in particular as he stepped back and brought everyone crashing to the ground. There was shouting and a loud snap. The marble floor was hard. You hoped Beelzebub survived.
Leviathan was noiselessly screaming, his mouth stuck open in shock as he crawled out from between Diavolo's legs. His brain was still calculating the pain.
Mammon was tenderly nursing his shoulder and rolled away from the target. He didn't know if this was considered a success or a failure, and looked to you for confirmation. You were busying looking at Beelzebub, who was mostly buried under Diavolo's body aside from his orange hair. There was a gap by the prince's neck where a chunk of uniform was ripped off by strong molars. Barbatos was not going to be pleased.
Diavolo was unscathed. As were you, thanks to his protection. You could feel his heart racing with excitement under the weight of your own chest. He was in no rush to let you go, and was in fact laughing heartily at the entire situation. Thankfully, he was a much better sport than Lucifer had been first thing in the morning.
"Okay," he gasped between fits of laughter. "I'm down. What do we do next?"
There was an illustrated demon summoning ritual in your textbook. It featured a large circle drawn in blood and a dozen humanoid figures in cultish grey robes.
"So if humans can summon demons," you wondered aloud, "can demons summon humans?"
Satan stared at you. You stared back.
He raised an eyebrow and asked, "How do you think you got here?"
Thanksgiving morning in Cocytus Hall should have been relaxing. You had the entire day off, courtesy of Lord Diavolo, and your DDD was off so the brothers couldn't bother you with attendant duties.
Thanksgiving is a human holiday, not a demon one. Thus, there were no expectations to put on a lavish event. No preparations, no cleaning or need to host guests. It was the perfect opportunity to sleep in. You could spend the day however you pleased.
That is, until a noxious scent woke you right up. There were no smoke detectors in Cocytus Hall. Yet you manually detected that a wispy black smoke was wafting through the crack below your bedroom door, spiraling through the air towards you.
"Solomon?" you called, voice weak from just waking up. There was a cadence of panic. You cleared your throat as you jumped up and ran towards the door, calling again, louder, "Solomon?"
The doorknob wasn't hot, so there wasn't a fire directly on the other side. You covered your face with part of your pajamas and went out into the hallway. The smell almost knocked you over. Your eyes teared up as you powered onwards down the hall, using the wall to prop yourself up. Much to your horror, all signs of where this mess originated were pointing towards the kitchen.
"Good morning!" an overly optimistic sorcerer called out. You tried to glare at him through the tears naturally defending your eyes. He had your apron on. One that Beelzebub gifted you after you made him an unforgettable dish of nachos.
Solomon scurried past you with a bowl of peeled potatoes. "Happy Thanksgiving! I thought I would surprise you with a traditional feast, since it's just the two of us here. I guess the mouth-watering smells woke you up?"
"You could say that," you sputtered. The intense taste of burnt croutons overwhelmed your mouth when you opened it. You didn't even see any croutons.
Solomon set his bowl down next to a pot of boiling water, oblivious to any chaos he was creating. The water churned so violently that bubbles splashed out and drops lightly sizzled on the countertop. He must have been heating it with a little too much magic. He also wasn't paying it much attention as he turned back towards you.
"I've always wanted to spend a uniquely human holiday with you," Solomon admitted. His ears were a little pink. "Just the two of us. This felt like the perfect chance."
While you stood half-dazed in your pajamas, Solomon wrapped his mitted hands around your shoulders. He was very warm and smelled like a spiced holiday candle. Any rage you felt at this kitchen catastrophe began to fade just a little bit.
"Would you like some help cooking?" you offered. Somebody had to chaperone this guy. You came up with an excuse that wasn't totally a lie. "It'd be nice to spend more time together so you don't have to be alone until dinner."
"That sounds nice," Solomon agreed. His hug tightened and he couldn't hold back from a quick forehead kiss before he let go. "I actually can't remember the last time I celebrated Thanksgiving with someone I was truly thankful to be with. This might be the first time."
Looking around, there were quite a few dishes that could still be salvaged. The potatoes, for one. There was an empty pie crust by the sink and an untouched wheel of red cheese propped up against the wall. You would deal with the bird in the oven later.
"Satan, your DDD is ringing," you said. The noise kept distracting you while you were looking for a fun novel to steal off his shelves.
With a heavy sigh, Satan tucked a ribbon bookmark into the page he was reading and clapped the book shut. He declined the call and instead checked his six new text messages, noting, "It's Beel."
After a brief pause, Satan came up behind you. There was no hesitation, he knew the location of most books in his collection. He placed a hand on your shoulder to steady himself and aimed for one with a colorful cover on a shelf almost out of reach.
You half-caught him after Satan jumped up and stumbled back a step, book in hand. It was decorated with pictures of food.
"Can you go deliver this to him?" Satan asked you, itching to get back to discovering the culprit in his latest mystery thriller.
"Yeah, if you find me something to read by the time I get back," you replied. "Beel's on dinner duty today, right? Did he forget to plan it? Is he in the kitchen?"
"Yes, in the kitchen." Satan was already staring at the shelf you had been perusing. He shook his and moved to a stack several feet away as he continued, "It sounds like he just forgot to buy an ingredient before coming home. That book will help."
You dutifully made your way to the kitchen, nosily flipping through the book as you went. It was a reference on substitutions. How to replace poison nuts with more or less poisonous varities, how to slow cook a kraken to taste like mermaid, what vegetables work best when the ones you want are out of season. Some tips were intriguing, others looked like straight-up lies. You wondered which one Beelzebub would use.
The moment you stepped onto the tiled floor, Beelzebub spun around and held his phone against his chest. It smelled delightful.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, like he forgot you lived there too.
"Running an errand for Satan," you said, giving him the book. "Here you go."
"Ah, thanks."
Beelzebub took it with relief and immediately cracked it open. He set his DDD face down on the counter. His large finger slid down the page as he poured over the table of contents.
"What are you looking for?" Maybe it was a page you had skimmed.
"Oh, nothing. Thanks, you can head back and relax now. I'll call you when dinner's ready."
Strange. Beelzebub always liked having you help in the kitchen. He'd usually joke around and beg you to stay.
"What are you cooking? Looks like some kind of stew, maybe I can help?" you inquired.
"I'm good. You can head back now."
You narrowed your eyes. Beelzebub turned his back to you to shuffle through the pages. There were an assortment of meats on the counter. Phoenix, boar, other things you couldn't really identify. And his phone. You knew you shouldn't, but there was an odd suspicion you just couldn't ignore.
You grabbed Beelzebub's phone.
Can humans eat human meat? was the search on-screen. 316 results. They were mixed, mostly because the ones saying yes used it as a method of torture. You guessed Beelzebub deduced it was a bad idea.
He went to gently set the book down, having found his desired page, when he said "hey!" and swiftly snatched his DDD out of your hands.
The screen was still on. Beelzebub sighed and his shoulders drooped. "Did you see it?"
You nodded.
"Oh. Well, can you?" he asked.
You shook your head. His shoulders slumped even more.
"It's growing colder without your love." - Solomon/MC
content warning: MC death
Solomon had been alone for a very, very long time. He'd gotten used to it, or at least so he'd told himself, even if he had never quite convinced himself of it deep down.
He had taken comfort in the company of his demons -- though not all of them were exactly happy about being summoned up by him at any which time. And he was still in contact with Michael here and there, though the angel had eventually grown tired of him it seemed, perhaps seeking him out only every century or two now. Nor was he foolish enough to let down his guard around either kind, anyway, as angels and demons alike had always shared an eagerness to use and manipulate humans in ways that kept Solomon wary.
But the pains of grief had carved deeper into him with every loss, and the inevitability of his human companions' mortality had worn him down until he couldn't take it anymore. So he continued on alone, focusing on his work, his research, protecting the human realm, and throwing himself into anything that would keep him from thinking about it too deeply.
So when the suggestion to study as an exchange student at RAD for a year came to him, he hadn't hesitated in the least. Much as he loved and cared for the human realm, there was no one there to miss, and no one to miss him. He would go to the Devildom, where he could further his goals and research.
Of all places, he hadn't counted on meeting his first human love in ages in the Devildom.
You had fascinated him. Really just in a morbid curiosity kind of way at first, watching this foolish human stumble their way into pacts with one after another of the demon brothers. But gradually, the fascination had turned into an odd sort of caring, and then a romantic sort of caring, and then before he knew it, a warmth had blossomed in his chest, which grew warmer every time he was around you.
It was addictive, almost. He could hardly keep away, even knowing the heartache that would come, and the brightness with which you looked at him melted away all the walls he'd put up for so long. You, the only one who smiled at him that way, the only one that he could let down his guard around, the only one he could finally be himself with again. You were the one who finally released him from the cold shell he'd felt trapped in for so long.
And then, one day, just like all the others before, you were gone. Human mortality had caught up again.
He sits upon the roof of one of his secluded homes now and gazes up at the stars. He'd like to imagine you among them, though he knows all too well the truth of where souls go when people die -- a place far out of his immortal reach. At least he can see the stars, and if he imagines you among them, then he can pretend you're still in the same world with him.
There's a flicker of a thought of looking up at them together, and he's not sure whether it's better to try to hold onto it and let the vivid memories wash over him, or to let them go. It hurts to think about either way. So does remembering the way you used to bury your face against his shoulder with each passing breeze. It's growing colder without your love, as time steals away the lingering warmth of his memories of you cuddled up against him.
It's getting hard to remember the last time he smiled so honestly as he would smile at you, or felt that admiring spark in his chest that you always gave him when you somehow managed to impress him yet again. It's fitting to imagine you as a star, lighting up the night sky the same way you used to light up his life. But that light, too, is fading.
Solomon has been alone for a very, very long time. Maybe someday he'll be used to it again.
theartofmadeline
areudirty
pixelskylines
snowghoul
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
