Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started, as it always does, with good intentions.

The demons don’t exactly celebrate Christmas, considering they’re…well…demons. Upon noticing your homesick mood in December, though, Lucifer made a point to host some kind of holiday gathering for you, and while you’re touched that he and his brothers would go out of their way to make you feel better, finding an appropriate pagan Christmas tradition to share with them all was a challenge.

Making gingerbread houses went out the window after Beel ate all the kits. The mistletoe had to be burned when Asmo got a little too…er, enthusiastic about it. You innocently asked for a tree to decorate, thinking there’s no way that could go wrong, and because pine isn’t native to the Devildom, Satan researched what the closest substitute was, and the tree he got ended up being a little more carnivorous than conifer.

There was one activity that seemed like it would work out, though. The white elephant gift exchange. Of course a bunch of demons would be interested in the white elephant game since it’s probably the most evil Christmas tradition there is! You were just happy they finally settled on something that didn’t blow up in your face.

Until it did.

The game started like any other. Everyone drew numbers from a hat and Mammon was excited to be first, until he quickly realized on the next turn that it was the absolute worst to have the first turn in this game. His random prize, a nice cologne, was stolen from him by Asmo immediately, and when he unwrapped a new present to replace it, hopeful for something even better, he was disappointed to end up with a simple wooden nutcracker.

“Are ya fucking kidding me?!” he groaned. You had to remind him that he might have the chance to steal from someone else later once the dice rolls began, which helped curb his sour grumbling long enough for everyone else to take their turns.

As the pile of presents disappeared, revealing all kinds of random items, some easy to tell who they came from and some genuinely bizarre, it became clear what the white elephant of this game was: A large silver chalice that was stolen three times before the dice rolling even began, which you thought was an odd choice for everyone to collectively gravitate to, but that’s just how this game tends to go.

Mammon wanted it because it looked shiny and expensive. Beel was drooling over how much drink it could hold. Belphie wasn’t interested with anything available so he teamed up with Beel to win the chalice for him. Satan thought it would look great on one of his bookshelves. Levi wanted it because he’s nothing but a competitive gamer and getting the thing everyone was after would mean that he won.

The only ones that weren’t interested in the chalice were Asmo, who was content with the cologne he stole early in the game, and Lucifer, whom you’re pretty sure is the one who brought the chalice in the first place. He looked rather smug as he quietly watched his brothers going nuts over it. A little too smug.

You, on the other hand, had a hard time deciding if there was anything you wanted to steal if you rolled doubles. The present you initially unwrapped, a very pretty scarf, was nice enough for you. However, there was one item that gradually caught your eye as the dice started to roll and the game devolved into chaos.

The only item that changed hands more than the silver chalice was the nutcracker.

Everyone who got it was so eager to trade it the first chance they got, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor thing. It’s a nice nutcracker, you thought, with a cute tuft of red hair under its cap and a cute painted face. You have no idea who it came from, but seeing it go unloved by the rest of the family struck a particular chord with you.

At the end of the third and final round, the final dice roll came down to you. You failed to roll doubles twice before, but on this turn you got lucky, and you found a pair of snake eyes staring back at you from the dish. There was a collective gasp as everyone held their breath in suspense.

After your move, the prizes would become permanent. Would it be you who won the chalice war?

You looked between them all, appraising their gifts carefully, lingering a little too much on the chalice in Levi’s lap just to make him squirm a little before finally settling on the one thing your heart had been calling out to the most. To everyone’s surprise, you stood up and approached Mammon, who for all of his efforts had ended up back with the same unwanted nutcracker he got from the start of the game, and you plucked it from his hands with a satisfied grin.

“Hell yeah!” Mammon raised his new scarf in the air and hollered. “I didn’t lose!”

“You didn’t win, either,” Levi reminded him and held the coveted chalice up in front of everyone with a shit eating grin. “GG, everyone! That was so awesome!”

“No it wasn’t,” Satan snapped. He’d been seething ever since Levi stole the chalice off him in the last round. “It was awful! Who in their right mind came up with such a stupid game?”

“Aw, you mad, bro?” Levi snickered. “Suck it, dude. I won fair and square.”

“Like hell you did! How was any of that fair?!”

Satan’s wrathful aura stains the air around him as Levi laughs at his face. It’s now you realize that maybe playing white elephant with a bunch of entitled demons was a bad idea.

“The rules were explained to you at the start,” Lucifer reminds them.

Levi snorts. “Yeah, don’t be such a sore loser.”

None of that helps cool Satan’s temper. If anything, it ignites it.

“Shut up! What are you even going to do with that thing, anyway? You only wanted it because everyone else did!”

Satan’s demon form appears in a cloud of brimstone smoke, and that’s when things go from bad to worse. In a fit of blind rage, he swipes at Levi with his claws. Levi barely manages to evade him, causing him to fall onto the person next to him, which is, of course, you.

You go tumbling backwards and expect the ground to hurt when you hit it, but something breaks your fall. A sturdy pair of arms catches you just in the nick of time, and you open your eyes to find that it was Beelzebub who spared you from a possible concussion. Wow, such fast reflexes!

Levi, meanwhile, hits the floor with a thud, and also a weird snapping sound. He gets up, his tail and horns out defensively, hissing like a snake about to strike back, when Lucifer steps in to stop the fight by binding both Satan and Levi in dark wispy ropes he summoned from thin air, and everyone else takes a big step back from their ticked off eldest brother.

“Stop!” he booms at an unnatural volume that shakes the walls. You’re grateful to have someone holding you right now because your knees probably would have gone out. “I expect more from you than this!”

Levi is lifted back to his feet, and he drops the chalice in his fright. It hits the ground with a clack, which draws your eyes down, and there you see what made that weird snapping sound when Levi fell. Your nutcracker lays broken on the floor.

“He started it!” Levi says. “You all saw him attack me first!”

“He was asking for it!”

The brothers argue while you bend down to collect the pieces of your poor nutcracker, and you’re surprised by how sad you are to see it like this. You didn’t know this little toy long, but surely it didn’t deserve such a fate, to be abandoned again and again and then unceremoniously destroyed.

Beel frowns at the mess when he sees it, and when Lucifer notices what’s in your hands, his sour mood turns furious.

“You two should be ashamed of yourselves,” he growls, and the ropes squeeze his captives tight until they both yelp. “If you’re going to act like insolent children, then that’s how you’ll be treated!”

Lucifer raises his hand towards the chalice and it shatters like glass. Everyone in the room flinches, and Satan and Levi are bewildered.

“Now nobody can have it.”

“B-but that’s not fair! I didn’t even do anything!” Levi whines. Lucifer shuts him up with a stony glare.

“Both of you: Apologize.”

He leaves no room to argue. “S-sorry…”

“Not to me.” The ropes evaporate, dumping both brothers onto the floor, and Lucifer points at you. “To our human guest, who put forth so much effort to share such an important part of their culture with us, only for you two to ruin it. Look what you’ve done.”

Now they see the broken nutcracker in your hands, and whatever fight they had left in them disappears. Their demon forms vanish as they hurriedly apologize to you for breaking your gift, guilt written all over their faces, to which you forgive them, because it was just an accident, you assure.

You would much rather this awkward tension between everyone go away, you don’t want them fighting on Christmas Eve, but Lucifer doesn’t let them off so easily. He marches them out of the common room to whatever their punishment may be, and the others crowd around you to assess the damage.

“Aw, I’m so sorry, hun,” Asmo clicks his tongue. “It was a charming little fellow, wasn’t it? What a pity.”

“You can have the scarf back, if you want,” Mammon says in an uncharacteristic show of generosity, which he quickly attempts to walk back when he catches more than one surprised glance. “I mean, not because I care about your dumb toy or whatever, but scarves ain’t my thing, you know?”

“Or you can have my book,” Belphegor offers the novel he won in the game.

You shake your head, appreciative of their offers, but you’re not about to take their prizes from them. The white elephant game isn’t really about what you get in the end, after all, it’s supposed to be about the fun you had with your friends and family.

“I can try to fix it,” Beel suggests. “I have wood glue in my room.”

You give him an appreciative smile. “Sure, let’s give it a shot.”

You give the pieces to Beel, checking one more time to make sure you didn’t miss any, and while he’s off playing field doctor to the injured wooden soldier, you spend the rest of the night trying to take your mind off how badly the white elephant game ended by playing something else with Mammon and Asmo. Poker never leads to any fights, right?

Your current company are far better sports, thank goodness, even as seriously as Mammon takes his gambling. The mood is quiet while the three of you play and Belphie snoozes on the rug in front of the fireplace like a cat. Lucifer comes back to check on you once he’s done dealing with Levi and Satan and he’s happy to see you’re alright, more or less.

“Those two will be spending the night keeping an eye out for santa,” he informs you coolly, “on the roof.” Ouch. You wish you could suggest a lighter punishment, you’re not that mad, after all, but you know better than to get between Lucifer and his methods of maintaining his family’s image. He’s more upset about his brothers’ shameful behavior than you are about your broken toy. “For what it’s worth, I enjoyed the game.”

“I’m glad,” you say. “My family used to do a white elephant gift exchange together every year, so it was nice to be able to experience that again. Even if it didn’t go as planned.”

“The offer still stands if you want to be sent home for the holidays, you know.”

You shrug and let your eyes drift away, choosing your next words carefully. “Nah. There…hasn’t been a white elephant there in a long time.”

Lucifer nods, getting the hint. He knows better than to pry into your home life unless invited to. It’s not something you like to talk about. At least, not without a drink in your hand. “Then consider our home to be your home. We’re honored to have you here at such a significant time, even if some of us are bad at acting like it.”

You thank him, truly touched by his words, and later while you’re heading back to your room, you stop by Beel’s room to drop off a half-awake Belphie and check on the progress with the nutcracker.

To your amazement, he has the whole thing back in one piece, though it’s wrapped tightly in cord to keep it together while it dries on his desk. He’s delicately wiping away the excess glue from the cracks when you whistle at his work, impressed that he was able to stay focused on such a careful task without his stomach distracting him. He put more effort into fixing it than you thought he would.

“Wow, Beel, I didn’t know you were so crafty!”

Beel smiles and keeps his head down, a slight pink dusting his cheeks at your compliment. “Mm. I did my best. Won’t know if it worked until tomorrow, though.”

“He’s a brave little soldier, I’m sure he’ll pull through.”

“If not, I know where to get a new one.”

“Oh? And where in the Devildom is that?”

Beel keeps the answer to himself and instead gives you a cheeky grin. A secret, eh? He sure is a man of few words and many surprises.

You’re thinking about the nutcracker and Beel’s steady hands as you lay your head to sleep that night, and while it doesn’t quite feel like Christmas to you without frost on the windowpane and the smell of fresh pine needles wafting in the air, at least you have a family to spend it with this year, even if they are a handful sometimes.

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You wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of scratching and squeaking. You open your eyes and try to peek into the darkness, but you can’t see anything, so you reach for your bedside lamp, only to find that you can’t reach it.

The lamp is too far away. Or, rather, it’s too big, and so is your bed. Everything in your room looks like it’s made for a giant!

You’re brought out of your sleepy confusion by even more sounds coming from below. You look out over the sheer cliffside that is your bed to see some movement on the floor, dark shapes scurrying around, their claws scraping the hard wood, and before you can properly ask what’s happening, there’s a booming voice reverberating through the air.

“Find him. Don’t let him escape.”

“L-Lucifer?” you weakly call out, and for a second, there’s no reply. Then, the bed shudders as something lands behind you, and you turn around to see…

An imposing figure stands before you in what appears to be a full suit of armor and a black cloak tossed over their broad shoulders. Their helmet conceals their face, and when you try to recognize the horns protruding from the top, you realize they aren’t horns. They’re…ears?

“Hello, little mouse,” he says with a deep chuckle as he steps forward, a sword in one hand and eyes glowing like hot coals beneath his visor. You swear that’s Lucifer’s voice, but is it really him? He’s acting strange. “You know where he is, don’t you?”

“I…what? Lucifer, what are you doing? What’s going on?”

As quick as lightning, he shoots forward and grabs you, and the next thing you know, he’s holding you by the collar of your shirt and your feet are dangling over the edge. You gasp and frightfully grip the hand that holds you, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

“You’re going to tell me where he is, little mouse, or I’ll be sure you never see him again.”

You scream. The scuttling shadows gather beneath you, and that’s when you realize what they are. Rats. Dozens of man-sized rats with beady eyes and gnashing teeth screeching up at you, ready to eat you alive if the fall doesn’t kill you first.

“Wh-who are you?!”

“I’m the Rat King and you’ll do as I say. I’ll ask you one last time:” the Rat King pulls you in closer to his visor, and those burning eyes pierce your soul. “Where. Is. He.”

“Where is who?!”

“You know damn well who. TELL ME!”

His grip gets tighter and all you can do is choke and kick your legs. When you don’t provide the answer he wants, he sighs and shakes his head.

“I admire your resolve. I hope it’s worth your life.”

He lets go. You fall, and it almost feels like slow motion as your mind struggles to comprehend what’s happening. You can’t even scream, your eyes are locked on your murderer as he shrinks from view, until suddenly, you aren’t falling anymore.

Something slams into your side, carrying you through the air. It swings past the rats and lands on the floor with you tossed over its shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Or, at least, you think it’s a shoulder. It feels smooth and solid, but not like metal or plastic. More like wood?

“Run!” your savior commands as he deposits you on the ground and draws a sword from his hip. “I’ll hold them off!”

You know that voice, too. Is that – “Beel?!”

Just like the Rat King, this guy looks nothing like Beel, but he sure sounds like him. Wait…is that your nutcracker?!

“RUN!” he shouts at you again, and you get to your shaky legs and do as you’re told. You don’t know where to run, but anywhere away from those rats will do!

The sounds of a fierce battle ring behind you. Shrieking beasts, clacking wood, and the voice of the Rat King laughing in dark glee. “There you are.”

You make it across the floor to your desk and hide behind one of the legs to catch your breath. It doesn’t seem like you were followed.

Taking a peek, you see the battle raging between that wooden man and the rats, and despite being outnumbered, he manages to fend them off. The rats don’t seem to be fighting him so much as surrounding him, though, keeping him contained in a tight circle, until the Rat King descends from above, his cape fluttering behind him, and comes face to face with the nutcracker.

“There’s nowhere to hide,” the Rat King says. “Just give up. You want to see your brother, don’t you? Come with me and I’ll take you to him.”

“Give him back!” the nutcracker yells, seemingly unfazed by the Rat King’s intimidating presence. “I don’t know what you’re plotting, but you can’t have either of us!”

“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this the hard way, my dear prince, but you leave me no choice.”

The Rat King brandishes his weapon, and in a flash, the two are engrossed in battle. They move so fast that your eyes can barely keep up, but you can tell that the nutcracker is barely able to parry the blows, much less hold his ground. He steps dangerously close to the wall of rats behind him and you hold your breath, silently cheering him on, but when your savior is knocked to the ground and it becomes clear that he can’t win, you do something incredibly stupid.

You grab the nearest object, which happens to be a dusty popcorn kernel the size of an apple, and throw it as hard as you can. By some miracle, the kernel strikes the Rat King right in the head, and with enough force to knock his helmet right off, too. He stumbles backwards in surprise, and it’s enough for the nutcracker to get the upper hand and thrust his sword up under the breastplate of his opponent, imbedding it deep into his chest.

The rats surrounding them cry out in pain as if they were the ones who had been stabbed, and they quickly scatter. The Rat King falls to his knees, and what looks like black ink drips down the blade of the sword, splattering the ground below him.

Without his helmet, you can finally see his face, and he smiles menacingly as you approach. It’s…Lucifer. It really is Lucifer. Your stomach lurches when you realize what you’ve just done.

You just killed Lucifer.

The nutcracker sits upright on clicking wooden joints and removes his sword from Lucifer’s heart. More ink gushes from it, staining everything it touches, but Lucifer doesn’t seem that concerned. He’s still smiling, even as his body begins to morph and melt through the seams of his armor.

“You know where to find him…” Lucifer whispers. “I’ll be waiting…” He falls over and his suit breaks apart upon impact, like there’s no body within. Even his head vanishes into a puddle of sickly ink that seeps into the cracks between the floorboards, and before your eyes, he’s gone.

His last words linger in the air like an echo. You are frozen in shock, until the nutcracker turns to look at you.

“Thank you,” he says, but his jaw is no longer such an exaggerated size. He has lips now, and a more human looking face, red hair, stern purple eyes –

“Beel!” you shout, and you’re practically beside yourself. Just like with the Rat King, you were right about Beel’s voice, too! “Wh-what’s going on? What just happened?!”

“We defeated the Rat King,” he says simply, as if he hadn’t just killed his own brother with the sword in his hand.

“He’s…dead? He’s really dead?”

Beel shakes his head. “No, it takes a lot more than that to kill him.” You sink to the ground in relief, soaking your pajama bottoms in spilled ink, but there’s nothing you can do, because you don’t have the strength to stand anymore. The last few minutes have taken years off your life. “He’ll come back if we stay here too long.”

“Why? Beel, what the fresh fuck is going on?!”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m not Beel. My name is the Prince of Feasts. Who are you?”

You stare at him for longer than is necessary. “If you guys are playing some kind of sick prank on me, it’s not fucking funny.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What land are you from?”

You may have just saved him, but now you want to strangle him for being so confusing. What stops you is the sharp wince he gives when a terrifying noise like a snarling beast emanates from within him, and his hand tightly grips his stomach as he breathes through the pain. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I’m hungry,” Beel, or The Prince of Feasts, as he calls himself, pouts. “I haven’t eaten since he put that wood spell on me to slow me down.”

Yup, that’s Beel alright. But maybe Beel has memory loss? And Lucifer, too? Is this the work of a curse? Or one of Levi’s reality altering games? Is anyone else effected?

You decide to just go with it for now. Weird magic stuff like this usually gets resolved if you don’t fight it too much. For now, you would like to get out of this eerie dark room and find some help, but you’re not sure how far you’ll get, being no more than four inches tall.

“The Land of Sweets isn’t too far. We will be safe there.”

“The Land of Sweets, huh?” you look at him skeptically. “Sure, why not. Lead the way.”

“I’ll need your help. I’m so hungry, I can barely move…”

You help Beel up, and on his way to his feet, he grabs the popcorn kernel you lobbed at Lucifer’s head and bites into it like his teeth are made of steel. You watch in fascinated horror as he easily crunches it up and swallows the whole thing in a matter of seconds. “…You know, it makes a little too much sense for you to be a nutcracker.”

Beel recovers a little bit of strength from that snack, thankfully. Enough for him to walk, though you keep his arm around your shoulders when he sways. He directs you towards a mousehole in the wall that you never noticed before, and when you emerge on the other side, you find yourself somewhere else entirely.

Chapter Text

A snowy forest illuminated by the guiding light of a beautiful full moon. A path leads you through the silent trees, the smell of something delicious on the wafting breeze, and you’re so amazed by the landscape washed in midnight blues and sparkling white that it takes you a minute to realize that even though you’re walking through the snow in nothing but your pajamas, and barefoot, too, you aren’t cold at all.

“Is this not snow?” you ask, bending down to scoop some soft powder in your hand, cool to the touch, but certainly not frozen.

“Powdered sugar,” Beel replies, scooping some up himself and pouring it into his mouth. He gobbles it up by the handful, and the more he eats, the stronger his steps become. You give the powder a curious lick to find that he’s right. It’s the sweetest sugar you’ve ever tasted!

You’re not sure how Beel can stomach eating so much of it plain like that, but then you make another discovery on your journey through the woods. The trees are made of chocolate! The two of you share twigs plucked off the branches together as the path takes you deeper into the candy forest, and while you walk, ‘the Prince of Feasts’ tells you more about who he is, this place, and what the hell happened back there with ‘the Rat King.’

Apparently, the Land of Lamentation was once ruled by seven princes, who all happened to be brothers. (Of course.) Then something happened that split the land into seven separate kingdoms, each ruled by a different prince.

All has been mostly quiet since then, but recently, the Rat King, who was once the eldest of the princes, has been invading other territories. He conquered the Land of Dreams and kidnapped their prince in the process (ha, totally don’t know who that could be) and when Beel tried to save his closest ally, the Rat King invaded the Land of Feasts, too! It looks like the Prince of Feasts has no choice but to go to the Rat King’s castle if he ever wants to see his brother again.

With a plot like that, this has got to be one of Levi’s dumb video games.

You try your darndest not to roll your eyes throughout the whole cliché story and introduce yourself to him, too, though you don’t say too much about where you came from, because there’s probably a role play element to this thing, knowing the kind of shit Levi plays. You wonder what kind of prince he is? The Prince of Nerds? You’re sure you’ll find out soon enough.

For now, you focus on finding the Prince of Sweets, who’s castle is apparently deep within the candy forest. All of the princes have secret entrances to their dwellings, as part of the arrangement to stay separated from one another, but those with alliances have given each other their passwords, and Beel is one of two princes who have the key to the Land of Sweets. The only other password he has is to what is no longer the Land of Dreams, so this is truly the only place he could go for refuge.

He knows the path well, expertly navigating the dense forest like he could do it with his eyes closed. He visits this place often, he says. That’s not hard to believe, at the rate he’s devouring everything in his path. As the light of the moon disappears behind a thick curtain of branches, little flickering lights start to appear, and they jingle like dainty bells as they float around you, almost like they’re dancing.

“Sugar plum fairies,” Beel says when you ask what they are. One lands on his nose and casts a warm glow over his face, highlighting his fond smile. “They’re delicious. I’m not allowed to eat them, though.”

“That’s…good. So, uh, how far are we from the castle?”

“Almost there. The fairies mean we’re close.”

You should feel more tired than you do after waking up in the middle of the night, having a near death experience, and watching someone you care about sort-of-but-not-really die, but you feel strangely happy and energized right now. Must be all the candy you ate. The jingling almost seems to form a song as more fairies show up, twirling in lovely circles and patterns before your eyes, and it makes you want to dance along.

You’re moving to the music as you reach a sudden clearing in the middle of the woods. Fine flakes of sugar are falling from the open starry sky around a large oval mirror standing in the middle of a small field, and Beel heads straight for it.

“We’re here.”

“We are?” You stop in front of the silver mirror, your reflection staring back at you, and your mood is dampened a little by seeing the ugly black stains on your clothes. You’re a little embarrassed by your bedhead, too, and self-consciously smooth it down with your fingers while Beel steps closer to the random ornate object. “Where’s the castle?”

“Through the mirror,” he explains, as if that makes any sense. “It’s enchanted. You have to give it the password to open the door.”

“What’s the password?”

“A kiss.”

The Prince of Feasts leans in to demonstrate and kisses the mirror, and suddenly the flat surface ripples like water. His hand passes right through it, and as he steps into the mirror, he beckons for you to follow.

You can’t, though. When you try to enter, the mirror becomes solid again! You suppose that means everyone who uses it must use the password, so you take a deep breath and give your reflection a quick peck, feeling incredibly silly, but it works. The mirror melts and lets you through, and Beel is on the other side waiting for you.

A colorful castle made of waffle cone bricks, peppermint pillars, and crystalized gumdrops looms overhead, and you have to block the light from the sun with your hand to see it. It’s daytime here, wherever here is, and you find yourself standing in the middle of a courtyard laced with pink icing. You barely have time to take it all in before the giant gingerbread doors ahead of you swing open, revealing yet another familiar face.

“Hello, my brother! Welcome back to the Land of Sweets!” Asmo greets with his arms up in a warm welcome.

You have to do a double take when you see what he’s wearing, almost mistaking his fitted white tights for absolutely nothing at all. His plum purple tunic ends just above the crotch, and you bite the inside of your lip to keep your eyes off his bejeweled cod piece as he crosses the courtyard on his tippy toes to excitedly kiss Beel on the cheeks.

Then his gaze flicks to you, and your spine straightens as he looks you up and down with a devilish glint in his eyes. “And I see you brought a new friend. Who might you be, my dear?”

“A hero,” Beel answers for you, pointedly thrusting a protective arm between you and the prince currently licking his lips like you’re a lollipop he can’t wait to unwrap. “They helped me defeat the Rat King.”

The Prince of Sweets snaps out of his interest in you and looks at his brother in shock. “What?” he gasps. “Did I hear you correctly? You defeated the Rat King?!”

“For now, but I’ll have to face him again soon. He has stolen the Prince of Dreams.”

Asmo’s expression turns unexpectedly serious. “Come inside and tell me everything.”

The prince ushers you both into his castle, and now that you’re aware of what you look like, you feel incredibly out of place, standing in an amazing palace in nothing but muddy pajamas. Asmo has his servants fetch both of you a comforting mug of hot cocoa, carried in on a platter by several loyal sugar plum fairies, and when he offers you a place to sit on a pure white couch, you awkwardly point out that you don’t want to stain it.

“Ah, of course! Let’s get you into something much more suiting of a hero such as yourself.” He waves his hand, and you squeak as your clothes begin to shift around on your body, transforming into an embroidered soldier’s uniform not unlike Beel’s, complete with knee high leather riding boots and a rapier on your hip. Your hair is magically brushed, too, and swept back as if blown by the wind. Asmo cleans Beel’s attire up, too, taking away any inkblots or tears and leaving him looking pristine. “Much better. Now sit! Tell me when all of this all happened and how you two escaped the Rat King!”

Beel tells him the story of what happened a mere hour ago. By the end of it, Asmo’s foot is anxiously tapping the floor and his cocoa has gone cold. You’ve never seen the demon look so grave before.

“I see…this is indeed troubling. The Rat King has always cast a dark shadow over our heads, but this…” Asmo shakes his head. “He has gone too far.”

“Are you worried for the Prince of Dreams?” Beel asks, tilting his head suspiciously. “I thought you weren’t on good terms with him.”

“I’m not! But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with the Rat King’s unchecked tyranny, either. His troops have been gnawing at the edge of my territory a lot lately, and if both your and Dreams’ kingdoms have fallen, then I can only assume I’ll be next! This is awful!”

“Maybe you should team up,” you suggest to them.

Asmo sighs. “I’m afraid it’s no use. Feasts and I aren’t nearly powerful enough to take on the Rat King. He’s so powerful that it would take the power of all the princes combined!”

“Then do that. Get all of the other princes to work together and take him down, once and for all.”

Asmo bursts into laughter at your simple idea. He doubles over himself and is wiping away tears by the time he manages to speak again. “Th-that’s ridiculous! All seven princes would never work together like that!”

“Even to save their own kingdoms?” you say. “It doesn’t sound like the Rat King is going to stop until he’s destroyed them all. It might be the only way to stop him.”

“Well, yes…but even if we did manage to convince the others, we’re still missing the Prince of Dreams.”

“We have a hero,” Beel points out, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “That will make up for it.”

“W-wait, hold on,” you quickly shake your head, “I’m not really a hero! All I did was throw something to distract him, and I got lucky!”

“I don’t know how it is where you come from, but here, luck is an incredible skill to have,” Asmo says with a thoughtful manicured finger to his lips. “It may very well be just what we need to rid our lands of the Rat King once and for all…”

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that you’re being dragged into their conflict. It’s par for the course when it comes to stuff like this, but you can’t help but remember the terror you felt as Lucifer held you over a cliff and dropped you with no remorse, those disgusting rats, and the sword through his chest. You really don’t want to relive any of that, thank you very much, even if it is just a video game. This one seems a lot more dangerous than any of the others you’ve been trapped in before.

“I’m not going to help you kill the Rat King,” you tell them definitively, which makes both of them frown. “…But I’ll help you gather the princes,” you concede, “so you can save your brother.”

Asmo cheers, and even Beel smiles brightly at you. “Alright, let’s give it a shot! I know how to find the Prince of Tinsel, so we can start there. Get up, you too, we have no time to waste!”

The Prince of Sweets’ overflowing energy is infectious, and the three of you are back on the road before you know it. The sugarplum fairies see you off to the edge of their territory, and the next land you visit is a whole mountain made of treasure populated entirely by crows.

Endless coins, beads, and jewelry shift precariously under your feet as the three of you climb the steep path up, black birds cawing at your efforts, and Beel lets you hold his hand after you slip and nearly tumble all the way back down. Asmo seemingly has no trouble at all. He bounces ahead of you on his toes as light as a feather, and while you try to ignore the knowing looks of the ravens surrounding you, you ask him why he’s the Prince of Sweets.

“Because I’m irresistible,” he says with a sultry wink. “Anyone who takes a bite always comes back for more. Would you like a taste~?”

You politely decline. He doesn’t seem convinced that you have no interest in his…ah, candy, but luckily you arrive at the entrance to the Prince of Tinsel’s castle just in time to drop the topic. Crows fly in and out of the cave that leads into the glittery mountain, and the ones flying in drop coins from their mouths to add them to the massive hoard.

Asmo explains that the price of admission is to leave something for him that only you can give.

“I always give him one of these,” he giggles, holding up what you’re pretty sure is a red ring pop. “He thinks it’s a real gem! Don’t tell him it’s just sugar.”

The Prince of Sweets tosses his offering into the cave and strolls right in. You and Beel exchange a confused glance, trying to brainstorm what either of you have that the Prince of Tinsel could want.

“I have this?” Beel pulls out a fork from his pocket like it’s a totally normal thing to do. “It’s enchanted to make anything taste good.”

“I guess that’s kind of cool,” you agree. Definitely something only Beel would have. “Worth a shot?”

Beel throws the fork in and walks into the tunnel. He disappears into the darkness, so you guess that means it worked. Now you’re left patting yourself down for anything that meets the qualifications, but you come up empty.

You try plucking a shiny button off your new uniform and chucking it in. Holding your breath, you walk into the cave in a straight line, only for the crows to cackle at you when you come out at exactly the same spot. Huh. Your offering must not have been good enough?

Trying again, you give the cave your rapier, not knowing how to use it, anyway, but the cave spits you back out just like the first time. You suppose it’s because none of this stuff is really yours. What could you possibly have that the prince would want? Does he take I.O.U.’s?

After a minute of pondering, you can only come up with one idea, and it’s a stretch, but if you know the Prince of Tinsel as well as you think you do, then it could hold some value to him.

“I’m here to see the Great Ma- I mean, the Great Prince of Tinsel!” you shout, and your voice echoes deep into the mountain, silencing the caws around you. “The most awesome, powerful, and dashing prince of all the lands!”

The cave greedily swallows up your praise and you step inside. This time, to your relief, you do not end up back at the mouth of the cave. You come out in an immense cavern in the middle of the mountain, lit by the glow of lava bubbling in pits, and above you is the castle, which hangs upside-down from the ceiling, the twisting spires thrusting downwards like stalactites. It’s a truly incredible thing to behold, and standing under it by some drooping golden chains is the rest of your party calling you over.

“There you are! Hurry up, before the elevator leaves without you!”

You reach them just in time for the chains to jolt, scaring away the perching birds, and you step onto a platform that begins rising into the air. The elevator takes you inside, stopping in a right-side-up throne room, and who should be sprawled out on the throne petting a giant raven at his side but the Great Mammon himself.

Ohhh, woooow, what a shock.

“What the hell are ya doing, Sweets?!” Mammon shouts angrily at his visitors with a cheek resting on his fist. It can’t be comfortable with how many rings he’s wearing. Gold drapes over his bare torso from the many necklaces and body chains around his neck, a pointy crown tilted lazily on his head, and a velvet cape rimmed in black feathers spills over his shoulder. His excessive jewelry flickers in the torchlight that warms his tan skin. “What is he doing here?!”

“Who? Feasts?” Asmo taps his chin innocently as if he has no idea why Mammon is so upset.

“Yes, Feasts! We have passwords for a reason, ya know! Ya can’t just give mine out to whoever ya want! And who is that?!”

Mammon is glaring at you now. You weakly wave to him, not really sure what to say, but thankfully, the other two princes handle it. “A hero,” Beel tells him, and your cheeks are starting to burn every time he says that. Is that really how he’s going to introduce you to everyone? “Asmo had a good reason to bring me here, brother. The Lands of Dreams and Feasts have fallen to the Rat King, and the Prince of Dreams is gone.”

“Gone? What d’ya mean gone?”

“He was stolen by the Rat King.”

“Damn, seriously? Sucks to be him,” Mammon shrugs it off with little care. “So now you’re homeless, and you’re comin’ to me for charity? And they say I’m the dumb one!”

“We need your help. We want to get my brother back and defeat the Rat King, but we can’t do it alone.”

“Defeat the Rat King?” Mammon sits upright and grips the arms of his throne incredulously. “Are ya out of your fuckin’ mind?! Nobody can defeat the Rat King!”

“I just did,” Beel informs him, “with the help of this hero.” You are thrust into the spotlight once again and aren’t really sure how to present yourself as a so-called hero. “If every prince calls a truce and bands together, then we can do it again, and for good this time.”

Mammon opens his mouth, only for it to snap shut again. He looks over all three of you in bewilderment. “…Are ya serious? Did ya actually beat the Rat King?”

“U-uh, I mean, sort of?” you anxiously rub the back of your neck. “Beel – er, Feasts did most of the work, I just got lucky.”

“Lucky, ya say?” Mammon strokes his chin with newfound interest. They really do take luck seriously around here, don’t they? “Hmmm…”

“You’re the first one we came to,” Asmo attempts to stroke the other’s ego a little. “There’s no way we can do this without you, Tinsel. You were the closest to the Rat King, you should know his weaknesses better than any of us.”

Mammon falls back into his throne with a huff. “Well, yeah, I suppose I know one or two tricks, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not gonna fight with the likes of you, or any of our brothers, ever again.”

Asmo and Beel try some more to convince him, but Mammon will not budge. He has every excuse available, from being too busy counting his money, to flippantly stating he doesn’t care if the Rat King comes after him next because he’s 100% sure he won’t have anything that Mammon could want that would get him through the cave.

It seems like it’s hopeless, until you finally get fed up and start walking back to the elevator. “Fine. Let’s go, guys. There’s no helping it if Tinsel is that afraid.”

“Afraid?!” Mammon raises to his feet in an instant at the accusation. “Who’re ya callin’ afraid? I’m not afraid of nothin’!”

“Nothing but the Rat King,” you correct without turning around. You definitely hit a nerve there, and Mammon, as predictable as ever, launches into a whole rant about why the Rat King totally doesn’t scare him at all and everyone else are the cowards, not him! When he’s done talking shit about his older brother, you turn around and cross your arms at him. “Then prove it. Put your money where your mouth is and help us take him down.”

You have him backed into a corner with that. Mammon flounders for any way to get out of your challenge without proving you right, but when he comes up empty, he has no choice but to accept. Begrudgingly, he comes down from his throne and agrees to a temporary truce, if only to, “prove I’m the best and put ya back in your place where ya belong, hero.”

Asmo gives you a high five as the four of you and a dozen crows ride the elevator back down to the ground, and after a treacherous climb downhill, Mammon announces that he has the password to the Prince of Pages’ place, so everyone agrees to go there next.

The Prince of Pages, huh? That’s a cool title. However, when you arrive at the giant iron gates of the next land, you realize the word ‘pages’ isn’t referring to servants. It’s referring to books.

Unlike the last two castles, this time, there is no password to get inside. Maybe because it’s not actually a castle, but a huge library with a layout similar in construction to M.C. Escher’s painting Relativity. The moment you enter the unassuming building, your mind is assaulted by the endless abstract isles of shelves going on as far as the eye can see in every direction, and you have to stop when your head starts spinning trying to comprehend it all, not helped by the deafening silence that feels like it’s physically smothering you from the moment you stepped foot inside.

Even worse, when you turn around, you find the tall doors that welcomed you in are nowhere in sight, and you’re pretty sure the twisting stairways and gravity defying hallways have been rearranging themselves whenever you turn around, making it impossible to tell how far you’ve come, let alone where you’re going.

No wonder this unsettling place doesn’t need a password to get in. Getting out will be the real challenge.

“What a mess!” Asmo complains, stepping around stacks of books that from your perspective are laying on the wall. For some reason you can barely hear him. Even the sound of your own footsteps has been dampened. “He’s gotten even worse than he used to be.”

“How do we find him in all of this?” Beel questions from right next to you, yet he sounds so far away. You hold onto the sleeve of his coat to ground yourself in this disorienting place.

“Easy!” Mammon cups his hands over his mouth, takes a deep breath, and yells as loud as he can, “JUST MAKE SOME NOISE!”

His voice feels extra sharp against your ears as it pierces the unnatural quiet. The air itself squirms uncomfortably through the labyrinth and the quiet frantically tries to rush back in to swallow the sound, creating a soft rumble like thunder.

Mammon is completely unbothered by the heavy feeling of dread settling over your heads. He shoots you a thumb’s up and a cocky wink. “Do that, and the prince will come to you.”

“Not a very good password, is it?” Asmo says.

“That’s because it’s not the password.” Is it just you, or is the ground starting to shake? “The password is to be someone he doesn’t hate, or he’ll just kill you.”

Dust starts to lift from the nearby shelves as the quake gradually intensifies below your feet. Everyone who isn’t Mammon looks between each other in horror.

“You idiot!” Asmo smacks the Prince of Tinsel on the back of the head. “He hates us!”

Realization dawns on him way too late. “Oh…haha, right. Oops.”

Before any of you can come up with a plan, suddenly, books start flying off the shelves. Paper flutters around in an invisible whirlwind, surrounding the four of you like an angry tornado, and Beel shouts for everyone to get down. You look up just as a shelf creaks and tips over on top of the whole party, showering everyone in a hailstorm of books, and you all would have been crushed if not for the strength of the Prince of Feasts.

Beel shields you with his body and catches the mahogany bookcase. He manages to slow its fall long enough for the three of you to dig your way out from under it, but it leaves him trapped inside. He stands there gritting his teeth, muscles straining against the hundreds of pounds pressing down on him, until he can see that all three of you are safe, and that’s when his arms finally give out.

You scream as he falls to his knees and the shelf collapses on top of him, and you try in vain to lift it off, but you are nowhere near strong enough. Even with everyone pitching in, the shelf barely moves an inch.

“Tinsel, you fool! How dare you bring these bastards into my home!” says someone behind you, and you whirl around to see Satan standing there in a hooded robe. He looks pissed.

“Oi, knock it off, will ya? I’ve got a good reason!”

“Oh yeah? You have five seconds to convince me why my next book shouldn’t be written in your blood!”

“The Rat King is after us!” you say, stepping forward in a rage to rival his own. “We came here to warn you, so stop being an asshole and help us save Feasts!”

Satan is taken aback by this random person with the gall to yell in his face like that. Hearing the name of the Rat King also gives him pause, and he turns to his brothers. “Who the hell is this?”

“This is the hero that’s gonna help us defeat the Rat King once and for all,” Mammon says. Great, now he’s calling you that, too. “They’ve done it once, and they’ll do it again if all of us princes fight him together.”

Satan looks you over curiously. The angry energy in the air dissipates, and the flying books and papers fall to the floor. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, unless you’ve just killed one of them, in which case, you’re all screwed,” you tell him coldly, turning your back to him to try moving the bookshelf again. However, you don’t have to, because the solid wood splits open with a crunch, and Beel pries himself out, spitting pieces of wood out of his mouth from the large bite he just took out of it. He looks completely fine, aside from some splinters in his tongue. “Beel!”

“I told you, I’m the Prince of Feasts,” he says in mild confusion as you hug him in relief. He accepts the hug, though, looking relieved to see you’re okay, and stands up to join the others. “Pages, please join us. The Rat King already has the Prince of Dreams, so if we don’t do this now, we’ll never get the chance again.”

The Prince of Pages looks torn. “…Do you think it could it actually work, though?”

“We have luck on our side,” Asmo pats you confidently on your shoulders. “There’s no way we can lose!”

Satan thinks it over for a long minute, and finally, he makes up his mind and sighs. “You’re certainly lucky I hate the Rat King more than I hate all of you combined, so I suppose you could be right. Very well, I’ll join your truce. On the condition that if we win, none of you will ever bother me here again. Including you, Tinsel.”

“Whaaaat? What did I do?”

“You still haven’t returned that book you borrowed years ago.”

“I told ya, I’m still lookin’ for it! I’ve got a lot of stuff, sometimes I lose things,” Mammon shrugs.

“Then pay the overdue fine.”

“Tch,” Mammon rolls his eyes. “No way, the fine is higher than the book is worth.”

“Then consider yourself banned.”

While the two of them bicker, you check to make sure Beel is alright, and he assures you that he’s fine, if not hungry. There is no food or drink allowed in the library, though, so you clap to get everyone’s attention and move the group along. “Okay! Only one more prince left, right? Pages, do you know how to get there?”

“The Prince of Tales, and yes, I do,” Satan nods. “Though I haven’t seen him in years. I don’t think anyone has.”

Even when he’s in an actual fantasy world, Levi is still a shut-in? Damn, dude.

Chapter Text

Satan leads everyone out of the library as if he knows his way around like the back of his hand, and it’s off to the next mysterious magical land. Everything seems pretty normal about this one, aside from it being completely vacant, until Beel attempts to go into a tavern for a quick bite, and the entire building collapses the moment he tries to open the door.

It doesn’t collapse like you would think, though. It goes down in one piece and lays flat on the ground in front of you, and that’s when you realize the little town you’re passing through isn’t real. Everything is an incredibly convincing cardboard cut-out, from the buildings to the trees, and Beel groans in misery when he can’t find any food that isn’t just a flat painted prop. He eats it anyway, but he’s not happy about it.

There is only one building that isn’t fake, which is a theater, ironically enough. Satan brings you inside under the grand sweeping archways and takes you through a hall of murals depicting scenes from all kinds of stories, from muscley heroes with big hair in mid-battle to beautiful women dancing and singing under the spotlight. You recognize some of their faces from posters you’ve seen in Levi’s room and roll your eyes. Are you even surprised at this point?

“The entrance to the Castle of Tales is on the main stage,” Satan informs you as you enter the large auditorium. The seats and balconies are empty, but the stage is brightly lit and an elaborate backdrop is set up as if a performance is due to start at any minute. “The password is to properly reenact a scene from The Myth of the Seven Sovereigns. I do hope you’ve all read up on that series.”

The Myth of the Seven Sovereigns? Holy shit, you cannot be serious.

“I know a little bit, I think,” Asmo says. “He used to never shut up about it.”

“I always tuned him out, so I’ve got no clue,” Mammon shrugs.

“The myth of the what?” Beel quirks an eyebrow.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. Dear lord, this is going to be cringe. “Okay, Pages, how do we do this?”

“Once you step onto the stage, you will be assigned a role. There are markers on the ground to tell you where to stand, and when we’re all in position, the play will begin. It doesn’t have to be word for word like in the story, but please try your best, or we’ll be boo’d off and pelted with tomatoes.”

Satan climbs the stairs onto the stage, and the moment he steps foot on it, his robes transform into an overly designed green tunic with armored shoulders and a mask over half of his face. He looks down at his new costume and hums.

“Looks like I’ve been assigned the Sovereign of Tombs.”

“Oh! Me next!” Asmo enthusiastically bounces to the stage, and his clothes transform, too. You are relieved when his obnoxiously sparkly cod piece is replaced with a high collar made of purple feathers and a black rose patterned dress that sweeps the floor. “How lovely! Who am I?”

“The Sovereign of Confection.”

Mammon steps up to the stage next. His velvet cape becomes dark gray and the feathers framing his shoulders grow twice as long and turn gold. “Sweet! I dunno who this guy is, but if I’m playin’ him, then he’s gotta be cool.”

“The Sovereign of Clutter,” Satan says with a smirk.

“What the hell?! That sounds so lame!”

When Beel goes, he has his red soldier’s uniform turned into an armored breastplate. His new metal suite clacks when he moves to look himself over, reminding you of how you first met him as a wooden nutcracker.

“The Sovereign of Consumption.”

You’re the last one to be assigned a role, and you hold your breath as you step up to the stage, hoping for an easy one. The uniform Asmo gave you doesn’t actually change all that much, but you gain a much bigger sword. Like, holy shit, is this a claymore?! Not a real claymore, though. It’s way lighter than a sword of this size should be, like it’s nothing more than a cosplay prop. It looks pretty real, though.

“Oh, you got the main character, Henley.”

Of course you did. You pretend to be surprised as you find the spot marked with your character’s name, and as soon as everyone in in their proper place, the curtains close in front of you.

“So, uh, what’s the scene we have to act out, anyway?” Mammon asks.

Satan shakes his head. “I don’t know, it’s different every time. Watch out for context clues and try to act like your character would. Which is stupid, by the way, so it shouldn’t be hard for you.”

“Oi! What’s that supposed to-”

The curtains pull away, revealing that the auditorium is now packed with a full audience. You’re hit with a sudden wave of stage fright for a moment until you realize they’re all just pieces of cardboard cut into the silhouettes of people. Other cutouts slide in from stage left and right, and you look around to determine what kind of scene this is supposed to be.

A splatter of confetti blood is deposited at your feet, so you guess that means you’re hurt. Several evil looking knights have their 2D weapons raised at Mammon and Asmo, so they’re probably supposed to be fighting them, and Satan is – oh dear.

Satan is tied up and hanging from a rope suspended several feet in the air. How did that happen?!

Beel’s marker placed him right next to you, but neither of you are sure what you should be doing right now. You swear you hear a cough from the fake audience as the seconds tick by, and Satan clears his throat.

“Oh no! The Sovereign of Consumption is a moment too late to the battle, and Henley has been struck down!” he says loudly. “Will this be their final goodbye?”

You drop to the ground, and thanks to that helpful bit of narration, you now have a good idea about what scene this is supposed to be. You’re pretty sure you’ve answered a trivia question about it to get into Levi’s room before. Beel crouches down to hold your torso up, and you weakly press your hand against an invisible wound on your stomach.

“I knew you’d come for me,” you pretend to say as if in pain. This feels incredibly awkward. “Did you light the lanterns like I told you to?”

Beel looks completely lost. You give him a subtle nod. “Yes…I, uh, lit all of the lanterns.”

“Good. Now the rest of the army will come and the kingdom will be saved. My job is done, so I can finally rest.” Beel has no idea what’s happening. You need to make the situation clearer to him, you suppose. “You know, forever?” The blank look on his face does not change. “I’m dying.” Still nothing. Come on, dude. “Please at least try to hold back your tears.”

“Oh. Ah, no, please don’t go,” Beel says, finally getting the hint. “Don’t die.”

You have to hold in snort at his completely monotone delivery. The audience, however, seems to buy it regardless, because you hear a collection of sad sighs and sniffling. Satan narrates again, turning now towards the other two who are hacking at their cardboard foes. “Sovereign of Clutter, can you hold the enemy back much longer?”

“Yeah, sure.

“Can you?”

“Er, I mean, no! No, I can’t hold them back much longer!”

“I think we need to retreat,” Asmo announces, looking to Satan for guidance. “Shall we run away?”

“Not yet. It sounds like Henley has one last secret they need to reveal.”

Oh, right! The big twist, how could you forget? “I have to tell you about who I really am,” you begin, hoping you remember the whole thing correctly. “I lived another life before, but then I died and got reincarnated here, and I still remember who I was from the past. The legendary champion from a thousand years ago was me this entire time. And you,” you place your hand on Beel’s chest dramatically, “you were my brother back then, and I swore to keep you safe. I’m glad I could still keep that promise, even after all this time.”

Beel nods. “Hm. Thanks.”

It takes a lot not to laugh right now. Is he even trying?

“Oh no! The enemy has broken through our defenses! We must gather our comrades and retreat!” Satan calls out. Mammon and Asmo take their cue to exit stage right, and the dented cardboard enemies slowly encroach on the actors in the center of the stage.

Beel moves to leave with them, but you pointedly hold onto him, forcing him to stay put for one last crucial bit of dialogue that always makes Levi cry when he makes you watch the movie adaptation with him, so you know you can’t miss it. “Do you think we’ll see each other again?”

Beel hesitates, and for a second you aren’t sure if he’ll know the obvious answer to such a cliché question. “Y…yes?” You give him an approving nod, and he smiles. The way the spotlight illuminates his head from behind almost gives him a halo from your perspective. “Yes. I do. We’ll see each other again.”

You close your eyes, let your hand fall from his chest to land limply on the floor, and make a gross noise to signal your character’s tragic death. The auditorium is filled with applause.

Now all that’s left is for Beel to run away with the others. However, he doesn’t quite do that. Instead, he picks you up as if to take you with him, and the audience starts to boo. That didn’t happen in the book.

“No, no, leave the body and get me down from here!” Satan kicks his legs. Beel sets you back down, the booing stops, and he snaps the rope suspending Satan off the floor with one strong chomp from his powerful teeth. He carries his irritated brother over his shoulder in the direction Asmo and Mammon went just as more of the enemy soldiers are swarming the stage, and that’s the anticlimactic end.

The audience claps, the curtains fall, and you thank god that you all somehow didn’t fuck the scene up too badly. It helps that it was the big climax of the series and Levi has talked your ear off about all the ingenious ways the twist was foreshadowed back in volume one, so you have him to thank for knowing what you were doing. You won't thank him, though, because all of this is his fault in the first place.

You would have thought the others would know what to do, too, because it’s not like you’re the only one Levi forcibly shares his niche interests with, but then you remember you aren’t in the Devildom right now, and these versions of the brothers don’t live together, so they don’t have to put up with his nerdy references on a daily basis. Satan even said he hasn’t seen him in years, and while the self-proclaimed hikki often likes to boast about his solitary lifestyle, it’s clear to you that he doesn’t actually like being alone, or he wouldn’t be so starved for validation all the time.

How lonely must Levi be in this world?

“That was the worst acting I have ever seen,” Satan grumbles, now back on his feet. The ropes binding his arms disappear into thin air as everyone gathers back at center stage, and all of the props do, too. Beel offers his hand to help you up and you take it with a grateful smile. “But I guess it was good enough.”

“Ya kiddin’? That was hilarious!” Mammon snickers. “Why the hell were ya tied up like that, Pages?”

“If I remember correctly, the Sovereign of Tombs was being used as bait to lure Henley out to battle, as part of the exiled Sovereign of Treachery’s plot to get him killed.”

“And do Henley and the Sovereign of Consumption ever see each other again like they promised?” Asmo asks.

Satan wags a finger at him. “That would be spoilers.”

“Aw, come on! I want know what happens to them!” How Asmo got any kind of emotional response out of that terrible performance is beyond you.

“You’ll have to read the books to find out. I’ll let you borrow them from my library, so long as you promise to bring them back before the turn of the next century.” Satan sends a glare towards Mammon, who crosses his arms behind his head and whistles like he didn’t hear a thing.

At that moment, the curtains open back up to a new place. The stage is no longer overlooking rows of seats and balconies, but facing a magnificent throne set at the top of chiseled stone steps, which flowing water gently trickles down into a shallow pool that takes up the rest of the floorspace surrounding the stage. Schools of goldfish and koi lazily swim between flat stepping stones that form a path across the pool, and the still clear water is full of color reflected from a beautiful stained-glass window looming behind the throne. It depicts a faceless knight surrounded by seven stars, with the orange star being the biggest and the brightest directly behind the blade of the knight’s raised claymore.

The artwork is so grand in scale that for a minute you are unable to look anywhere else, but then a high-pitched scream to your left snaps you out of it, and Mammon dives behind Beel’s back to point a finger at the person dressed in all black standing next to the throne. Red eyes send a chill down your spine.

“It’s the Rat King!”

Lucifer looks at the five of you like he’s just as surprised to see you as you are to see him. Everyone takes a defensive stance and draws their weapons, but then you realize you’re all still in costume from the play, and your belongings are still just lightweight props. Your fake claymore will be useless in a real fight, and you can’t help but wonder if maybe that was Lucifer’s plan all along.

Did he somehow know you would be coming here? Has he already captured Levi? Are you too late?!

“Are you quite finished yet, Treachery?”

At the sound of the stern voice coming from the hallway under the window, Lucifer suddenly goes pale and drops the rag that was in his ungloved hand. (Have you ever actually seen him without gloves on before?) He whirls around to face the approaching man in an ornate high collared cloak, who is clearly just Levi in a knockoff TSL cosplay, and bows to him at the waist.

“Your highness,” he says quickly. “My task is almost complete. Also, it appears you have-”

“Ugh, lame! How hard is it to dust my throne?” Levi looks down to inspect the chair and frowns. “I can’t trust you with even the simplest of tasks, can I?”

“M-my Sovereign,” Lucifer stutters – he fucking stutters – and hurries to pick up the rag from the ground. “I apologize for the delay, I will do better next time.”

“That’s what you always say, but you always manage to find a way to disappoint me.” Levi shakes his head in disapproval. “It’s almost like you want me to punish you.”

“I beg your forgiveness, Sir!”

You, Asmo, Satan, Beel, and Mammon are in shock at the scene playing out in front of you. Levi is bossing Lucifer around? Lucifer is actually scared of him? What the hell?!

Levi finally looks down and notices the rest of you staring at him with your jaws on the floor. “Ah! I have visitors! Were you ever planning on telling me, Treachery?”

“Yes, your highness, I-”

“You’re going to end up back in the dungeon at this rate!” Levi berates him. “What are you waiting for? Go fetch some refreshments!”

Lucifer scrambles out of the room, leaving Levi to take a seat on his throne and finally address his stunned visitors. He gives you all a big smile and a wave. “Hello, my fellow Sovereigns! Sorry for that terrible welcome. You know how incompetent Treachery can be.”

“What in the name of-” Satan starts, but is interrupted by Levi clearing his throat expectantly.

“Excuse me? None of you have bowed to me yet. How am I supposed to hear your words if you haven’t first demonstrated your respect to my kingdom? You should know this by now, Tombs.”

Uh oh. You can feel the wrath radiating off Satan’s body, and you’re not even standing next to him.

“And what is this?” Levi strokes his chin and looks you over with a gleam in his eyes. “Have you come all this way to bring me another hero for my collection? How thoughtful! And such fine quality, too.”

His collection? Of…heroes? Fine quality?! “I’m-”

“Nah-ah-ah,” he interrupts. “Bow. Then you may speak.”

“Ain’t none of us are bowing to your pasty ass,” Mammon growls, and the pop of his knuckles echoes off the tall ceiling. “I don’t know what you did to the Rat King, but no nerd tells The Great Prince of Tinsel what to do!”

Levi’s smile falls. “Wait…Prince of…oh. OH.” Levi jumps to his feet, and all the confidence he had is gone in an instant. “Is that really you guys?!”

“Who else would we be?!” Mammon's stomps send ripples through the water as he makes his way over the pool and up the stone steps so he can get in the other's face. “What kind of sick shit are ya up to in here, Tales?!”

Levi backs up as the rest of you leave the stage to surround him. Lucifer comes back with a tray of refreshments and looks around perplexed. “Is everything alright, Master?”

“Master?!” Asmo snorts. “That’s not really the Rat King, is it?”

“No, it’s a prop,” Satan explains, still steaming from his ears, and gives the Lucifer look-alike a hard shove. Lucifer goes down as easily as a piece of paper, and it turns out, that’s exactly what he is. He turns 2D when he hits the ground and so does the tray he was holding. Bits of paper float away and Satan makes a point to step on the one with Lucifer’s frozen painted face with the heel of his boot. “The Castle of Tales is imaginary.”

“Wh-what are you all doing here?! Pages, what have you done?!”

“No, what have you done? Is this why I haven’t seen or heard from you in so long? Because you figured out how to bring your little props to life, and even worse, you gave them our faces?! Who else did you program to do your bidding in this cursed fantasy realm of yours?”

As if on cue, someone else peeks their head into the room to see what’s causing all of the commotion. It’s Ruri-chan, complete with twitching cat ears, wearing what you can only describe as ‘bikini armor.’ “Is everything alright, my beloved Sovereign of Legend, for whom I have dedicated all of my heart, nya~?”

“Go back inside, my queen!” Levi frantically shoos her away with cheeks growing redder by the second. You and Mammon burst into laughter, and even Beel gets a good chuckle at Levi’s expense.

Asmo has sparkles in his eyes as he jumps around the confused Ruri-chan in excitement. “Ohhh, this is amazing! Do your props do everything you tell them to? Are they perfect copies? Tales, you have to teach me how you did this!!”

Levi covers his face with his hands in misery. “Noooo, none of you were supposed to see any of this! This is my sanctuary!”

“This is disturbing, is what it is,” Satan hisses. He’s the only one who’s not amused. “I don’t know what’s worse: that you’ve been living in a shameless self-insert fanfiction this entire time, or that you have been using our likenesses for your cheap playthings. Ugh, I feel violated!”

“Are ya really that surprised, though? Dude’s always been a freak,” Mammon says, coming down from his cackling. “Amiright?”

Levi groans into his hands like he wants to crawl in a hole and die. “I hate all of you.”

You stop snickering when you realize that as funny as this is, teasing Levi is not going to get him on your side. Clearing your throat, you draw everyone’s attention to you.

“That’s enough. We don’t have time for this, we need to get down to business. Prince of Tales,” you address him, and he peeks at you through his fingers. “We need your help. The Rat King is trying to kidnap you all and take over the world. He already has the Prince of Dreams, and he nearly got The Prince of Feasts, too, but we managed to fight him off. It won’t be long until he comes back, so our plan is to invade the Castle of Lamentation together and put a stop to his conquest once and for all. Will you join us?”

Perhaps you’re still a bit in character from playing Henley in the play a few minutes ago, because you feel pretty good about that speech you just gave. The Prince of Tales drops his hands to regard you for a moment, a spark of interest in his eyes, but he doesn’t accept your waiting handshake. Instead, he looks over to his brothers. “Who is this?”

“This is a hero,” Satan tells him. “A real one. They have defeated the Rat King once before and have sworn to do it again, this time for good.”

Levi’s eyes are blown wide. You want to dispute some of what Satan just said, you’re pretty sure you didn’t swear to do anything, you only said you were going to try to save the Prince of Dreams, but you aren’t given the chance to correct him, because Levi grabs your hand with both of his and steps right into your personal space.

“Wait, seriously?! You’re an actual hero?!”

“Uh – well, I don’t know if-”

“They’re the real deal,” Beel confirms for you. You really wish he’d stop doing that. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

Levi gets even more giddy and tightens his grip on your hand. “What kind of hero? A hero of light? A hero of time?”

“A hero of luck,” Asmo winks.

You didn’t think Levi’s eyes could get any bigger, but they do. “Owooooaaaahhh!!” He suddenly drops to one knee and bows his head in reverence. “Forgive me, hero of luck, I meant no disrespect! Welcome to my kingdom and make yourself at home! Oh, I can’t believe this, I can’t believe a real live hero is in my castle! I am not worthy to stand in your presence!”

Holy shit. You feel so awkward as Levi downright grovels at your feet, knowing he’d never do such a thing to a normie like you in the real world. “Uh, that’s…it’s okay, you don’t have to do that. Get up, man.”

Levi pops back to his feet upon your order. The others snicker behind you and you feel your cheeks burn. You’re really not good with being the center of attention.

“Whatever you need, I will do what I can to aid you in your quest! Thank you so much for your assistance and bravery!”

“No problem? But maybe you should…you know, calm down a little.”

At least recruiting Levi was easy. You now have the five out of seven brothers you needed, so you suppose it’s time to start formulating an actual plan for how you’re going to invade the Castle of Lamentation. However, you realize as you turn back to the rest of them that they’re all looking at you.

“What do we do now?” you ask sheepishly. They all deflate like air being let out of a balloon.

“We were hoping you would know,” Asmo says. “You got us this far.”

“No I didn’t, I haven’t actually done anything yet. I’ve just been following you guys around and getting you back together.”

“Yeah, ya got us back together. Do ya know how big of a deal that is?” Mammon points out. “The five of us haven’t been in the same room for over a hundred years! It’s not an easy feat.”

“We’re all here because we believe in you.” Beel puts a hand on your shoulder, and you know he’s trying to be encouraging, but all you can feel is the weight being placed upon you. “You’ve given us the hope we need to save our kingdoms.”

Frustration wells up inside you. “I’ve been trying to tell you, though, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that! I’m not powerful like you guys! I don’t know magic, I can’t use a sword! You don’t seriously expect me to stand a chance against the Rat King, do you?”

“You beat him once before, though.”

“No I didn’t! That was Feasts, he’s the one who beat the Rat King! All I did was distract him!”

“He was lucky to have you there,” Satan says. “As we all are.”

Asmo nods in agreement. “Like I said before: in this world, luck is an incredible skill to have. You can have the most powerful army and the greatest weapons, but without luck on your side, none of it matters.”

“Is luck actually a skill, though? It’s not like I can willingly use it.”

“Sure you can. All you have to do is believe in yourself, and luck will do the rest.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. Wow, what episode of My Little Pony did they get that from? Maybe it’s true, for all you know. Maybe luck really is a tangible thing in this universe. It’s a stat in a lot of video games for a reason, right? You suppose you’ll just have to roll the dice and find out, because there’s nothing else you can do if you want to get back home.

Everyone is tired from their journey, so Levi offers to let the party rest in his castle for the night before the big showdown tomorrow. You still don’t have a plan, but somehow the others aren’t too worried about it. Good for them.

It’s clear you won’t be getting a lot of sleep tonight, so you leave your room to get some fresh air, but the view from the balcony doesn’t help the grim foreboding feeling that sits in your gut like a rock. The Castle of Tales truly is imaginary. There’s nothing but an empty void surrounding the castle on all sides.

You have decided this was a bad idea and are about to go back inside when who should show up but the one who started it all: the Prince of Feasts. You feel a little better now that you’re not out here alone, and Beel walks over to lean his elbows on the railing next to you.

“Hungry?” You shake your head. “You sure? Tales showed me how to conjure stuff from my imagination in here.”

Beel demonstrates by holding his hand out and furrowing his brows in concentration. A plate of yakitori appears in his hand, complete with a bowl of dipping sauce, and he holds one of the sticks out to you enticingly. You can’t help but smile and take it from him when the delicious smell of warm teriyaki hits your nose. Okay, maybe you could use a snack.

“Thanks.”

The next few minutes you spend in relative silence. By the time you’re done eating your one yakitori, Beel has consumed the rest of the plate, sticks and all, and while it used to be unnerving to see him eat like there’s an actual black hole in his stomach, you’ve come to find it somewhat endearing as of late. He looks so happy when he eats something delicious.

It’s especially charming whenever he offers to share, though. Beel only shares his food with the people he cares about, so you have a hard time refusing him when he offers. It makes you feel special, in a way, and you’re pretty sure it makes him feel good, too.

“Thank you,” Beel suddenly says, breaking the comfortable silence, “for everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you mumble and copy his posture, leaning on the railing to look out into the abyss. “Save it for if I actually manage to live up to the hype.”

“No, not that.” Beel shakes his head and looks at you, an unreadable expression on his stony face. It can be hard to figure out what he’s thinking about sometimes, but you’ve always suspected there’s more going on in his head than most people think. “For what you’ve already done.”

“Like?”

“Like saving my life,” he reminds you, and you scratch your cheek in embarrassment, unsure how you managed to forget. You’re about to bring up the fact that he saved yours twice, once when Lucifer dropped you and again back in Satan’s library, but he continues. “And bringing my family together. I never thought I would get to see them all like this again.”

“Did you not want to split up your kingdoms?” you ask. The other princes keep saying they hate each other, but you can’t see Beel genuinely hating anyone. You’ve always thought he’s the least demonic of the demon brothers, his only sin being his never-ending hunger, which admittedly drives him to do bad things sometimes, but he never means to hurt anybody.

“I wanted our lands to rejoin, but nobody else did,” he shrugs. “I’d given up on us ever living together again. But thanks to you, we are. If only for one night.”

A smile softens his features, and you can’t help yourself but stare. That’s…so sweet. Seriously, that was the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard him say. Beel truly loves his family and it breaks your heart knowing he’s been so alone this whole time. They all have.

You remember how much dust was in Satan’s unused library. How much Mammon still cares about their opinions of him. How Asmo welcomed you into his home with open arms. How Levi made clones of the people he claims to hate.

This may be a different world than the one you come from, but the brothers are still the same as ever. They love each other, even when they refuse to admit it. They need each other.

Well, except for…

“Hey…Be – ah, I mean, Feasts? Can I ask you something?” Beel nods. “What happened that split you all up? And why is the Rat King so evil?”

Beel lets out a long breath from his nose and rests more of his weight on the railing. You know you just brought up a sore subject, but you have to know what could possibly tear this family apart for a hundred years.

“Before he was called the Rat King, he was known as The Prince of Loyalty,” Beel begins. “He’s the oldest and most powerful prince of us all, and he used to look after us back when the lands were one. We weren’t the perfect family, and he could be mean and we all fought sometimes, but somehow it would always be okay.”

This sounds about right to you so far. You let Beel take his time as he explains his backstory, and you can tell when things are about to get bad when he holds his wrist in front of him, the way you noticed he does when he feels anxious.

“Then one day we found an old relic that could grant one person their greatest desires, so all of us started to fight over it. It got so bad that a civil war broke out which ravaged the Land of Lamentation. We fought for years, but in the final battle, the relic was destroyed.

“All of us were really angry about that. Everyone left the Castle of Lamentation to make the fractured lands into our own kingdoms, except for the Prince of Loyalty, who stayed and became the Rat King. We’ve been separated ever since.”

What a sad story. Something about it doesn’t feel right to you, though, but you can’t quite put your finger on what.

For now, you’re more concerned about the way Beel’s fingers dig into his wrist, so you reach over and place your hand on top of his. He pauses for a moment before his thumb subtly hooks over yours in gratitude, and he continues.

“The others want to keep it that way and ignore each other, but for some reason, the Rat King won’t leave us alone. He’s been trying to destroy us ever since. Not sure why. I guess he wants to finish us off?”

“That doesn’t sound like him,” you say, and when Beel gives you a questioning look, you scramble to explain your reasoning. “I-I mean…since he’s your brother, and all. You said he used to look after you guys. What happened?”

“I don’t know. All of us changed after we found that relic. It wasn’t until we split up that I started to feel like myself again, but by then it was too late. Maybe he never forgave us.”

Maybe. It’s hard to say in a situation like that. The chance to have your greatest desire is something you can see getting between people, after all, it’s not unheard of for stuff like money and power to do the same. But the Lucifer you know isn’t anything like the Lucifer that Beel is describing, so you have a hard time believing that’s all there is to it.

He can be scary, sure, but he never tries to hurt his family, unless he has a good reason. (The word ‘good’ referring to having good intent, you mean, regardless of his problematic methods.) He was so angry when he dangled you over a swarm of rats and demanded to know where his brother was. Lucifer’s sickly grin after Beel stabbed him still haunts you.

What has he done with the Prince of Dreams? What will he do to the others if he captures them, too? Will he not stop until all their kingdoms are destroyed?

Damn, you’re actually getting a little invested in the plot of this story.

Not enough to forget about the danger you’re in, though. All the games you’ve been isekai’d into are always a ‘you die in the game, you die in real life’ kind of deal, but those ones were just goofy dating sims, and you had your friends with you who were also aware of what was going on. This game is different. It has waring kingdoms and actual sword fights in it, and as far as you can tell, the only way to win is to kill the villain.

But you can’t do that! What if it kills the real Lucifer, too? And even if you knew that your friends were safe, you still don’t think you could fight any of them, because you care for them all too much. You’ve already seen Lucifer almost die once and it shook you to your core. You can’t go through that again. Not with him, or anyone.

There has to be another way to beat this game without having to kill anyone. Maybe you can uncover a secret level? Or a cheat code? Maybe there’s a glitch you can exploit?

You’re afraid you won’t have enough time to figure it out. The six of you will invade the Castle of Lamentation tomorrow, and your main mission will be finding and rescuing the Prince of Dreams. All you can do is hope you figure something out along the way that will stop and spare the Rat King at the same time.

“It’s going to be okay,” Beel tells you when the silence has gone on a little too long.

You cough up a laugh. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line? I’m the hero, after all.”

“Mm. Heroes need heroes, too.” He lets go of your hand so he can affectionately ruffle your hair, and you pretend to whine in protest, but truthfully, it feels good to be doted on like this, especially by him. “Heroes also need sleep. You should get to bed.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” you relent. “Thanks for talking to me.”

Beel walks you back to your room and bids you goodnight. You’re still stressed out about your role in all of this, but you actually manage to get some sleep, and when dawn breaks, you and the five princes suit up and prepare to sneak into their former home.

None of them have been there since they left a hundred years ago, so nobody knows what to expect, but as you trudge through the inky black marshes that surround the Land of Lamentation, a pebble of dread lingers in the back of your throat, and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen.

Chapter Text

“How much do you want to bet your stolen prince is up there?” you say, pointing to the one illuminated window at the top of the Castle of Lamentation’s highest tower. You were surprised you didn’t need a password to reach this place like the others, but then you remember there would be no need, because the Rat King doesn’t have to hide from anyone.

It’s a truly massive structure that stands like a monolith rising from the muddy bog. The same gross ink that Lucifer’s body turned into seeps down the castle walls, oozing between the bricks like a sickness, draining slowly into the stagnant water below and staining everything it touches until it’s indistinguishable from its own shadow.

The six of you are wearing solid black cloaks for camouflage as you crouch within a grove of dead trees overlooking the dilapidated castle, and you were informed by your party members that it wasn’t always in such a sorry state. These lands used to be fertile and alive when they all lived here, but under the Rat King’s rule it has become a smelly wasteland. While they knew it had gotten bad over the years, none of them were prepared for just how bad it really was.

You would have thought the whole thing was vacant if not for the one lit up window against the gloomy gray sky. Mammon snorts at your comment. “I’d bet my entire mountain on it.”

“Or,” Satan interjects, “it could be a trap. You said the Rat King is expecting us, didn’t you?”

“He’s expecting Feasts, and maybe me, but definitely not the rest of you. We still have the element of surprise.”

“Well, what do we do with it?” Levi asks impatiently. “Are we just going to storm the castle? Or are we going to do this stealth mission-style?”

“Stealth,” you decide easily. You would like to avoid violence entirely if it’s possible. “We need to find Dreams and break him out first, and then…”

“Then we all fight the Rat King?”

“I mean, that depends on what state Dreams is in, doesn’t it? We need every prince in good condition if we’re going to win. If Dreams is hurt, then we’ll retreat for now.” Beel frowns, and you’re sorry for putting that idea in his head, but you want any excuse to delay the battle.

“And if he’s not hurt?”

You bite your lower lip. “…Then…I guess we’ll stay, and you’ll do what you must. Does anyone have any ideas on how to get inside?”

“I know a secret passageway,” Mammon mentions. “I used it to sneak in and out after curfew all the time. Loya – I mean, the Rat King never caught me, so it should still be there.”

Levi raises his hand. “Okay, but once we’re inside, how do we get up to the tower without being detected? The whole place is probably swarming with rats.”

“We could disguise ourselves as rats,” says Satan. “They’re pretty dumb and their vision is bad, so it shouldn’t be too hard. Sweets?”

Everyone looks at Asmo, who sticks his tongue out in disgust. “You want me to make us into rats?! Gross!”

“Don’t be such a baby. Just do it.”

Good. The bare bones of some kind of plan are finally coming together. You’re not sure why they needed you so much if they could figure this out on their own, honestly.

Asmo sighs and waves his hand, and his magic alters the cloaks you’re all wearing to have round ears, whiskers, and tails. “Ooohhh, actually, that’s kind of cute on you, hero.”

“…Is this really going to be enough?” you poke at the new additions skeptically. It’s barely a cheap Halloween costume, and your face isn’t covered at all.

“Like I said, they’re pretty dumb,” Satan assures. “So long as nobody does anything stupid, we should be fine.”

“Hey! Why’dya look at me when ya said that?”

“Because if anyone is going to do anything stupid, it’s you.”

“Why ya little-!”

“Guys, focus!” you snap your fingers to get their attention before a brawl breaks out. “Tinsel, where is the secret passageway?”

Mammon narrows his eyes at Satan but thankfully drops it for now. “Should be dead ahead, through the sewer.”

“The WHAT?!” You clap a hand over Asmo’s mouth before his shrieking gives you away. He looks absolutely horrified by the prospect of walking through a sewer and you couldn’t give any less of a shit about his standards right now. You just want to find Belphie and get this over with.

“Lead the way.”

Mammon takes you to a tunnel that empties out the backside of the castle and removes two iron bars that aren’t properly fastened in place. Thankfully, it seems to be dry. “This is just a storm drain,” Mammon explains while he guides you through, and everyone has to crouch under the low ceiling. “It only ever fills up when it rains. I wasn’t so desperate to sneak out that I’d go through the shitter, ya know.”

“Oh, thank the lands,” Asmo breathes a sigh of relief.

“Though they did use it to flush out the horse stables sometimes.”

Asmo’s miserable whine echoes in the dark. You have to hold onto the tail of the rat cloak ahead of you and keep one hand on the wall to make sure you don’t fall or get separated from the group, and you put your trust in Mammon that he knows what he’s doing. Damn demons and their convenient night vision. Mammon is tapping the wall as he goes, and then stops when one of his taps sounds noticeably louder than the others.

“Jackpot! It’s still here!” There is a sound like bricks grinding together, and then a bit of dim light peeks through a gap being pushed open in the wall. Everyone slips through and ends up in what looks like a wine cellar.

From there, your party climbs a staircase up into the main part of the castle, and just as Levi predicted, there are giant rat soldiers everywhere. They’re wearing armor and seem to be doing their patrols, and like Satan said, they’re too dumb to see through your disguises. You shiver as you pass them, remembering all too well the screaming swarm that nearly ate you alive.

As the group ascends upwards, they look around with morbid curiosity at what has become of their home. Most of the paintings on the walls have been splattered in ink, some even slashed open with a knife, and it’s too deliberate to have been done by the rats. Satan runs his fingers over what once was a portrait, a sad recognition in his eyes.

“What happened to him?” he wonders out loud. “The Prince of Loyalty was always a pain in the ass, but this…”

“He’s not Loyalty anymore,” Mammon reminds him. There’s a lack of life behind his words as he keeps his eyes on the floor. “That prince has been gone a long time.”

“And what of us?” Asmo mumbles. “Are we still who we used to be?”

“Of course we are. I know I’m still the Great Prince of Tinsel, and none of ya are any different than ya were back then, either, as far as I can tell.”

“Then where have we been all this time?”

Asmo’s question lingers in the air unanswered. They’ve become sullen when forced to confront their past, and you feel more like an intruder as you listen to them grieve. Strangely enough, this is the first time that all of them have seemed to agree about something. It appears Beel isn’t the only one who misses the way things were, after all.

The last leg of the journey is the tight spiral staircase leading up to the spire, and you manage to make it the rest of the way to the top before dying of exhaustion. (Note to self: don’t skip leg day ever again.) It’s confirmed you must be in the right place by a couple of armored rats you find standing guard in front of a lattice door, and inside, you can see what looks like a giant bird cage suspended from the ground by a chain. Inside of it is a mound of pillows and blankets with a sleeping figure on top. They’re facing away from you, but there’s no mistaking those white highlights in their messy black hair.

It’s Belphegor, the Prince of Dreams.

It’s almost too easy how quickly the five of them take down the two guards, rendering them melted puddles of ink before they even have the chance to squeak, but you guess Lucifer had only been expecting the two of you. You make short work of the thin wooden lattice with a few kicks from your foot, which makes you feel at least a little bit useful, and the six of you enter the room to check on Belphie, who stirs at the sound of Beel calling his name.

“Mmmn…huh?” he rubs his eyes and sees Beel, you, Satan, Asmo, Levi, and Mammon crowding around him, and he blinks twice before pulling his blanket back over his head. “Weird dream…”

“Oi! Get up ya lazy bum! This ain’t a dream!”

“We’re here to rescue you,” Beel tells him. “Are you okay?”

Belphie peeks out to give you all a confused look. “Uh, yeah? I guess? Where am I?”

“You’re in the Castle of Lamentation. You were kidnapped by the Rat King.”

“I was?” Belphie scratches his cheek. “Oh.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been asleep this entire time,” Levi groans. “Did you even know you were kidnapped?!”

“Guess not. How long was I gone? Must have been at least a few millennia, if all of you are together like this.” He spots the one unfamiliar face among the crowd and raises an eyebrow. “Who’s that?”

“A hero,” you answer before anyone else can. “I’m here to help your brothers save you from the Rat King.”

“A hero, huh?” Belphie sits up to look you up and down, and judging by his expression, he doesn’t seem all that impressed by what he sees. “Whatever. I don’t need a hero, I’ll just-” Belphie reaches out to grab the bars of the cage door, only to recoil when an electric pop zaps his hand. “What the…?! Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Satan reaches out to touch it and the same thing happens to him, too. “Looks like the cage is cursed. We’ll need the key to get him out.”

“Where’s the key?”

“How much do you want to bet the Rat King has it?”

Mammon tips his head back and groans. “Fuck. That’s one bet I wouldn’t mind losing.”

Beel, however, tries to open the cage himself, and grabs the bars with both hands. A sizzling crackle assaults him as he grits his teeth through the pain and tries his best to pry the bars apart with his physical strength alone, but it’s no use. He lets go a few seconds later when it becomes too unbearable and comes away frazzled with his hair sticking out in all directions.

There really is no other way, then. Shit, everything was going so well! You snuck inside and found Belphie, but in the end, it looks like you’re going to have to face the Rat King without him, anyway. No wonder security was so lax and this room doesn’t even have a proper door. The Rat King doesn’t think he has a reason to worry.

So much for your plan. You wrack your brain trying to think of anything else that doesn’t involve facing that terrifying man, but you’ve got nothing. You’re really going to have to rely on your mysterious luck stat, after all. “We still have the element of surprise,” you say, mostly to yourself, as you pace the room. “He doesn’t know we’re here. Or, at least, he doesn’t know how many of us are here. Maybe we can ambush him?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Levi nods in agreement. “Just like in The Myth of the Seven Sovereigns!”

The seven of you come up with a new plan that involves luring Lucifer out into the open where Satan, Asmo, Mammon, and Levi can get the jump on him and hopefully subdue the king long enough to steal the key. Then you will take it back to the top of the tower and free Belphie, and hopefully the others will be able to hold their own until he arrives to add his power to their side. After that, you’ll…you’ll…

You’re not sure what will happen when all six princes are reunited, but it can’t be good.

“Is there no other way to stop him?” you ask one final time before you prepare to descend the tower. “Is killing the Rat King really the only way?”

“I’m afraid so,” Asmo solemnly nods. “He’s so stubborn. It was never easy to get through to him before, and with the way he is now, I doubt it’s possible at all.”

They were all so gung-ho about defeating the Rat King on their way here, but it seems they’ve all lost some of their enthusiasm now that reality is setting in. He may be a tyrant, but he’s still their brother. Or, at least, he used to be.

This game really sucks.

When you reach the main part of the castle, you and Beel split off from the rest so you can draw Lucifer out from wherever he’s lurking. The other four will be laying in wait in the garden, so all you have to do is get him to chase you there. Shouldn’t be too hard.

You notice something odd as you begin wandering the castle looking for Lucifer, though. Is it just you, or have all of the rats that were milling about disappeared? The shadowy corridors are empty and quiet. Too quiet.

“When the Rat King comes out, you should run away and hide,” Beel tells you. “I’m the one he’s after, so he’ll chase me.”

“What’s even the point of me coming with you, then? I should’ve gone with the others.”

“I’m the one that needs your luck the most if we’re going to make this happen.”

So you’re basically just a cumbersome good luck charm, then. Wonderful. That luck everyone’s been talking about better be all it’s cracked up to be if you don’t want to slow him down or get in his way.

The two of you aren’t trying to hide your presence anymore. You even took the rat cloaks off, but the place remains eerily still. There’s no sign of Lucifer, or any signs of life, for that matter, even as you walk right into the throne room and shout the Rat King’s name. The crimson velvet seat cushion is the only thing left untouched by the ink in this monochromatic palace, and after so much gray and depressing darkness, it almost hurts to look at.

The meager light from the drooping chandelier above doesn’t seem to reach anything else so it draws you both to it like a moth to a flame. The room feels way too big for just one throne standing in the center, and as you approach, you find indents in the floor where more used to be. Three on each side, one for each prince. Beel touches the lone chair and finds a thick layer of dust, like it hasn’t been used in ages.

“He must know we’re here by now.” Beel says.

“Then why hasn’t he come out?” you wonder aloud. “You don’t think he’s scared of us, do you?” You ask that question loud enough for it to echo off the walls, hoping it will get some kind of reaction if Lucifer is listening, but nothing happens. A chill runs down your spine and you back away from the throne, fearing the Rat King has a trap of his own waiting for you. “Maybe…this was a bad ide-”

You were right, there is a trap. A sharp metallic pop rings above your head and you look up just in time to see the massive iron chandelier falling from the tall ceiling.

“Look out!” Beel warns. He’s too far away to do anything, but you just barely manage to dive out of the way before it crushes you, landing on something cold and wet on the ground.

The sound from the heavy crashing chains is deafening. The chandelier is at least the size of a van and probably weighs even more, so there’s no way you would have survived if it hit you. “Feasts! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, are you?” says Beel from somewhere on the other side. You can hear his footsteps as he runs around the mangled metal, only to skid to a stop in horror as he lays eyes on you.

“Yeah, I’m…Feasts? What’s-”

It suddenly occurs to you that you have landed in a puddle of ink, and in an instant, it’s like the floor underneath has vanished. You scream as you fall in, splashing and kicking to keep your head above the surface, but ice cold hands latch onto your ankles and drag you under. The last thing you hear is Beel shouting your name, and then nothing.

Everything is dark and you can’t breathe. The dark water is as thick as molasses, stinging your eyes and filling your nose and mouth, and right as your life starts flashing before your eyes, it spits you back up like a creature hacking up its last meal. You fall to the stone floor and cough up the ooze that seeped into your lungs, gasping for sweet air, only to be hit by a putrid moldy smell that almost makes you feel like you’re drowning all over again.

“Looks like your luck has run out, hero.”

That voice sends a chill down your spine. You rub your eyes and open them to see the Rat King is standing in front of you, looking down with eyes like hot embers burning behind his visor. Between you is a wall of vertical bars like a jailcell, and you realize as you get a better look around you that that’s exactly where you are. A small concrete cell with no window, lit by only one torch behind your masked captor’s tall figure.

“L-Lucifer!”

“I’ve gone by several names, but never that one. I supposed it’s my own fault, though, since I never formally introduced myself.” He places his gloved hand on his chest. “I am the Rat King.”

You shakily get to your feet so you don’t have to crane your neck so much to look at him, your stomach churning. Today just keeps getting worse. “Where are we?”

“The dungeon,” he replies, “where you’ll be safely out of my way. Don’t worry, the rest of my brothers will join you down here soon.”

“…So you knew the whole time, then.” Of course he did. Lucifer is always one step ahead of everyone in any universe, isn’t he?

“I’m insulted you would think otherwise.”

“What are you going to do with me?”

“I haven’t decided that yet,” Lucifer admits, and he tilts his head at you. The metal rat ears welded onto his helmet almost look like they’re twitching in the flickering light. “I was going to kill you, but then you surprised me by bringing not just the Prince of Feasts to my castle, but all of the princes at once. It would have taken much longer to find them all and bring them here myself, so as a show of my gratitude, I’ve decided to spare your life.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mutter. Looks like you’re not completely fucked, just mostly. So much for being the big hero. “What do you want with the princes, anyway? Why are you trying to capture them all?”

“Because they’re mine,” Lucifer states matter-of-factly. “This is their home. It’s where they belong, with me.”

That answer catches you off guard. While hearing him talk about the others like property is unnerving, you were expecting a much more nefarious reason than that. Could it be that the Rat King isn’t too far gone after all? “Oh yeah, I’m sure they’ll feel right at home once you’ve locked them in the dungeon.”

Lucifer’s hand reaches through the bars and grabs you by the throat. You had no warning that his temper was rising before he lashed out at you and the shock nearly stops your heart. “It doesn’t concern you, little mouse.”

He said he wasn’t going to kill you, but the sharp points of his metal glove press threateningly against your skin, so you keep your sassy comments to yourself and look him in the eyes until he lets go. You take a deep breath to steady yourself as he turns to walk away, his cape trailing behind him.

With Belphie still captive and whatever assistance you were supposed to provide out of the picture, there’s nothing stopping him from defeating the princes and taking over the world. Beel saw you get captured, so right now he must be running back to the others in the garden to warn them. If you can stall Lucifer, then maybe you can at least give them a decent head start.

“They miss you,” you blurt out. It was the only thing you could think to say, and it seems to have been the right thing, because the Rat King pauses mid-step in the doorway. “You’re still their big brother.”

“No, I’m not.” He doesn’t turn around, but his tone is low. “I’m the Rat King.”

“You weren’t always. What happened to you?” He doesn’t answer. You curl your fingers around the bars of your cage. “What happened to the Prince of Loyalty?”

“Never call me that again.”

The bars rattle and shiver under his voice. You do, too, but you bravely press on. If you hit a nerve, then that means the Lucifer you know might still be in there. “Feasts told me about the war. Are you still mad about the relic?”

“Of course not.” Lucifer scoffs and finally turns to glare at you through his visor. “I’m the one who destroyed it.”

Your jaw drops. Now that’s an unexpected plot twist. “Wait, what? You did? Why?!”

“The relic was cursed,” he explains, and he comes back to loom in front of you. “Anyone who laid eyes on it became consumed by their most selfish desires. I had no idea what it was when I found it, and when I brought it home, it infected all of the princes, including myself. Therefore, it was my responsibility to rid them of the curse.”

This version of the story changes things. Holy shit, this changes a lot of things! “But…if you destroyed it and the curse is gone, then why didn’t things go back to normal? Why are you still fighting them?”

“Because the curse isn’t gone.”

Lucifer reaches up and takes off his helmet, revealing his face and the unnatural grin underneath, the same one from before, but now that you see him up close like this, you notice how it doesn’t reach his eyes. There is pain in them. He looks so tired.

“It was transferred to me.”

All at once, everything clicks into place, and your heart breaks knowing the truth. It’s not the six princes you were supposed to save in order to beat the game, is it?

It’s him.

“Oh, Luci…” you reach out through the bars and try to brush back the hair falling into his face. “Why didn’t you tell them? Don’t you think they would want to help?”

“What could they do?” Lucifer says, slapping your hand away like your kindness offends him. “Not even I could dispel the curse. No, it’s better this way if they don’t know.”

“But why? Would you rather them hate you?”

“Yes.” He puts his helmet back on. “Better that than worry for naught.” Lucifer makes to leave again. You try calling him back, but he doesn’t respond to your prying questions anymore. However, before he disappears beyond the threshold, he does snap his fingers at you. “The princes will be joining you here shortly, so I will appreciate your silence on this matter, my little mouse.”

As if. You open your mouth to retort, but something bubbles up inside of your throat. You gag and cough up a glob of black sludge into your hand which leaves an awful taste behind. More tar comes out when you try to speak again, and again, and by then it quickly becomes clear what he’s done to you.

Son of a bitch!

You sit down against the wall when you’re left alone in the depressing dungeon and put your head in your arms in misery, praying that you bought Beel and the others enough time to escape the castle. There’s nothing left to do but wait and wonder what will become of everyone now that you’ve failed to be the hero everyone wanted you to be.

Will you ever make it back to the Devildom?

Chapter Text

You aren’t alone in the dungeon for very long. Your relief is overshadowed by dismay seeing Mammon get spit out of a glob of sludge the same way you did in the cell next to yours, and the gold clad prince swears under his labored breath as he rolls onto his side with a grimace.

You momentarily forget about the spell Lucifer put on you and try to call out to him, but the only sound you make is a gurgled cough. Mammon opens his eyes to see you pressed against the bars looking down at him in concern, and he quickly tries to sit upright and pretend his lip isn’t split and he’s not covered in bruises.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” he grunts. “At least I put up a fight!”

Are you okay? What happened? Where are the others? These are all questions you can’t ask and being mute is driving you crazy already.

“Oi, hero. Say somethin’, will ya?” You can only shake your head and point at your throat. Mammon raises an eyebrow. “You can’t? Did the Rat King do somethin’ to your voice?” A nod. The Prince of Tinsel rolls his eyes. “Figures. Gotta say, I’m not impressed with your luck so far. Who goes and gets captured so easily like that, huh? Pathetic!”

Now it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. He takes offense to your wordless accusation.

“I’ll have ya know I didn’t go down easy! And unlike you, I was supposed to get captured. It was all part of the plan.”

The plan? Do they have a new plan? You look at him imploringly, desperate for details, and he winces through a chuckle.

“I kept the Rat King busy so the others could escape, and it totally worked.”

…That’s it? You sigh in disappointment and sit down on your heels. At least this means the others got away, but this also means they’re down yet another prince. There’s no way they can defend against the Rat King now.

“Don’t make that face. We haven’t lost yet!” Mammon gives you a cocky grin. “Maybe this isn’t the best situation, but the others are safe, I’m with the hero, and even better, you’re with the Great Prince of Tinsel! I’m sure we’ll figure somethin’ out.”

His pep talk does not make you feel any better. If anything, you feel worse. How can he still trust you when you failed so spectacularly? Is he just trying to make you feel better?

“It’s game over for all of you.”

You couldn’t have said it better yourself. The Rat King’s low voice comes from beyond the dungeon room and his heavy steps thump down the stairs. Mammon’s smile falls as the shadowy figure emerges, hunched over like a beast stalking its prey.

“You’re only delaying the inevitable, Tinsel. I’ll bring them back here one way or another, so you might as well save us all the trouble and tell me where they went.”

Mammon is, without a doubt, terrified, and you don’t blame him. The Rat King’s tone is icey as he creeps forward, moving slowly like a walking corpse in a horror movie, and it makes every hair on the back of your neck stand up. However, for how much Mammon looks like he’s going to shit his pants, he bravely holds his ground. “I dunno where they went, but anywhere is better than here.”

“Not for long.” The Rat King reaches the bars of Mammon’s cage, but that doesn’t stop him. His body morphs right through them like they’re not even there, and Mammon scoots back until he’s stopped by the brick wall behind him. “I’m prepared to tear this world apart if I have to. The Land of Lamentation will be restored to its former glory, and you,” he reaches down and grabs a fistful of the jewelry hanging from Mammon’s neck, forcing him to stand up so they can be eye to eye, “will never get in my way again.”

You can feel your heart hammering in your throat as you watch Mammon stand frozen before the Rat King, and you feel so utterly powerless right now that it sickens you. Mammon’s fists are shaking at his sides, but to your astonishment, he doesn’t give in.

“Fuck you,” he says, and he spits at the Rat King’s helmet.

The gold chains snap in the Rat King’s hand when he throws Mammon to the floor. Beads and pieces of jewelry are scattered everywhere. He doesn’t get the chance to get back up before a metal boot kicks him over and stomps down on his ribs, knocking the wind right out of him. He chokes and desperately claws at the other’s leg as the Rat King buries his heel into his stomach with a furious growl.

“I forgot just how stupid you are.”

You are overwhelmed in sheer panic at the violence happening in front of you. This is different from any other time you’ve seen them fight. Lucifer at least holds back, but the Rat King is downright merciless. You’re pretty sure he isn’t going to kill Mammon, that would defeat the purpose of capturing him, but with the curse driving him crazy, there’s no telling just how far he’ll go to get what he wants, and there’s nothing you can do.

Mammon’s face turns red as he struggles to breathe. He’s so weak from the previous fight that he has nothing left to save himself, but he endures the pain, much to the Rat King’s frustration. “Why do you protect them, Tinsel? Don’t you know they hate you?”

Mammon looks like he’s on the verge of passing out, but he still manages to rasp out an answer first. “B-because…” A tear squeezes past his eyelids. “I’m their…big broth-ther…!”

Suddenly, Lucifer lets him go. Mammon immediately curls into a ball to wheeze for air and the other steps over him to leave the cell without another word. You shudder in relief, falling to your knees as the fight appears to be over for now, and your captor disappears back into the darkness from where he came. You’re not sure why he left in such a hurry, but you’re grateful for the chance for Mammon to recover.

You gently tug on his cape through the bars to get his attention, silently asking him if he’s okay. It takes a few minutes for his gasping and coughing to die down enough to acknowledge you.

“Yeah, ya better run,” he groans hoarsely, rubbing the imprint of The Rat King’s boot on his chest and prying himself up to lean on the iron bars between you. You do your best to comfort him, though there’s very little you can do like this, aside from petting his hair. “Next time I won’t go so easy on ya…”

You shush him and stay close to the poor man, willing your hands to stop shaking. To be honest, you’re impressed with the Prince of Tinsel. Mammon usually breaks down and runs for the hills the moment Lucifer sends him so much as a warning glare, but you suppose it’s different when he’s protecting someone he cares about.

And he does care about his brothers, there’s no denying that now. He stayed behind to fight for them even though he knew he couldn’t win. He was afraid, but he still faced the Rat King’s fury alone. He might be crass and selfish even on the best of days, but when push comes to shove, Mammon steps up to be the big brother they need him to be, both in this world and yours.

You should expect nothing less of The Great Mammon.

“Can ya believe I used to look up to that asshole?” Mammon mutters. “He used to be so cool. So powerful and reliable, like nothin’ could touch’m. Everyone always went to him when they needed help. I wanted to be like that, too.”

None of this is surprising to you, but it’s shocking to hear him say it out loud. He keeps his eyes on the ground and huddles up in his tattered cape like a blanket.

“But if this is who he really is, then forget it. Seriously, fuck that guy!” His voice cracks a little. You wish more than anything to tell him the truth about what really happened to the Prince of Loyalty, but all you can do is sit there and listen. “I wonder if there’s anythin’ left of him still in there. Why is he doing this… Did we disappoint him that much?”

You can’t let him sit there and beat himself up like this. Beside you are a few golden beads that fell into your cell, so you pluck them from the dirt and offer them to him as a distraction. Mammon stares for a moment before he takes them from you, letting the fragments roll in his palm, and a smirk lifts the corner of his lips.

“Put myself back together, huh?”

That message wasn’t exactly your intent, but sure. Whatever brings back the Mammon you know, the one who believes in himself even when nobody else does. Now you realize that’s what he was doing earlier when you thought he was trying to cheer you up. That pep talk was for himself. He needs that blind confidence to get him through it all.

And so do you.

Suddenly, the feathers on the Prince of Tinsel’s shoulders rustle, and out pops a beak and two little eyes. A raven flutters onto the floor and begins going around the room pecking at the bits of glittery mess all over the place, and it deposits them into Mammon’s waiting hands. When it slips through the bars of your cell to gather more shiny things, it hops up to you for a second, and you can’t help but smile as it tilts its head curiously.

“Oi, stop ogling the hero and get back to work,” Mammon tells it, and the raven makes a croaking sound as it follows the order. You had no idea Mammon could manifest and control his birds like that, and it immediately has you thinking about how it could be useful in this situation.

That’s about as far as your thoughts go on the matter, though, because as you watch the raven bounce around, you’re suddenly hit by a crashing wave of exhaustion. You’re not the only one, either. Mammon yawns next to you and his body sags heavier against the bars. You feel more comfortable on the cold hard ground than you have any right to be, and it feels like your mind is full of fog.

Before you know it, your eyes are slipping closed, and you give into the sweet allure of sleep cradling you in its strong, steady arms…

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“Ah, it worked.”

You are confused when you open your eyes to see a sky full of stars.

They twinkle like diamonds in every direction, laced together by silver threads that form the constellations, almost like floating string lights suspended in midair. Planets dangle among them, too, and the rings of Saturn glisten as if speckled with morning dew.

Below you is something impossibly soft and fuzzy, and you lift your head up to find you are laying on a puffy cotton ball cloud. There are other clouds hovering nearby, including one next to yours with Mammon sitting on it, who stretches his arms over his head in relief, his injuries completely gone.

The two of you aren’t alone. A giant crescent moon sits in front of you and sprawled out on it looking like the Dreamworks logo is Belphegor.

“Dreams!” Mammon shouts happily. “Were you the one that put us to sleep? I didn’t know ya could do that from so far away!”

“I’ve been practicing,” Belphie shrugs. “Haven’t had much else to do in the last hundred years.”

So you’re asleep and sharing the same dream right now? That’s a really handy power to have! You try to tell him as much, but unfortunately, your mouth still fills with ink when you try. You spit it out and the globs float away like dirty bubbles.

“Aw man, ya still can’t speak even like this?”

“I’m guessing the Rat King put a spell on you,” Belphie sighs. “How annoying.”

You fall backwards into the cloud in exasperation. Annoying is an understatement.

“What happened? I heard a lot of noise downstairs, and then it got quiet. I’m assuming you didn’t get the key?”

Mammon tells the Prince of Dreams everything that went so horribly wrong, and the younger looks almost bored by it, like he’s not even surprised. He doesn’t have to rub it in.

“So what will you do now?”

“That’s, uh, still a work in progress,” Mammon shrugs. “We’re open to suggestions.”

“Hmmm…”

You sit back up and try your best to contribute by miming to them the flutter of bird wings with your hands, then you point at Mammon. “My ravens? What about’m?”

Why does he have to be so dense? Luckily, Belphie picks up on your idea. “They’re saying your ravens could help you escape, dummy. Do you want them to steal the key for you?” You smile and nod enthusiastically. You think it’s a great idea, but Belphie shakes his head. “Yeah, right. Good luck pulling that off.”

“Oh! But we do have luck! So it could totally work, right?”

This is usually the part where you would get pessimistic about your role in all of this, but after everything you’ve been through today, you suppose relying on luck is the one thing you haven’t done yet, so fine. Might as well give it a shot since you’ve got nothing else to lose. Belphie, though, still isn’t convinced.

“Even with all the luck in the world, there’s no way you’re going to pickpocket the Rat King without him noticing. It’s like he’s got eyes on the back of his head.”

You point at Belphie and then rest your cheek on your clasped hands, rocking yourself back and forth like a baby in a cradle. “Put him to sleep? Nah. I can only make people fall asleep when their guard is down, and that guy never rests for even a second.”

“If we get his guard down, then will ya do it?” Mammon asks. “You put him to sleep, then we get the key, one of my birds can take it up to ya, and once you’re free, ya come get us and we’ll all escape together!”

Belphie rolls his eyes. “I’m telling you it’s not going to happen. How in the world do you expect to get the Rat King’s guard down?”

Mammon leans back on his palms and waves the question off like it’s not worth answering. “Don’t worry, just leave it to the Great Prince of Tinsel!”

The Prince of Dreams reclines further into his moon hammock and closes his eyes.  “Whatever. Even if you did bring me the key, I won’t promise I’ll return the favor. I don’t know why you’re suddenly so chummy with the other princes, but I still hate all of you.”

Mammon snorts. “No ya don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“You don’t hate Feasts, do ya?”

Belphie frowns. “Shut up.”

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Mammon’s snickering echoes in your head as the world around you dissolves, and when you wake up, your neck is sore from having slept in a such a strange position. Mammon moans miserably as he comes back to his injuries and finds his raven roosting on his head. How long were you two out?

“He’ll come,” Mammon assures as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I know my baby brother. He’s a moody little bitch, but he wouldn’t betray us.”

Uhhhh. Yeah, about that…

There’s no time to worry about whether the Prince of Dreams is closer to the Belphie that is your friend vs the Belphie that once killed you out of spite. Footsteps can be heard coming back down to the dungeon, so you brace yourself for another encounter with the corrupted prince. Even the raven can sense the approaching danger, and it disappears back into the feather mantel it came from while Mammon sits up and squares his jaw.

You hope Mammon knows what he’s doing.

“What are we going to do?!” The Prince of Sweets cries into his hands. Sugarplum fairies buzz all around him, trying to comfort their beloved monarch sitting at the table of his council room, but there’s no helping the terrible mood all of the princes are in when they arrive hopeless and defeated at the Castle of Sweets where the quest began. The Prince of Tales has his head buried in his arms on the other side of the table, and the Prince of Pages sits brooding in the windowsill, while the Prince of Feasts paces back and forth. “There’s only four of us left!”

“We can’t do anything. We’re doomed,” Pages answers lifelessly. “We won’t stand a chance when the Rat King comes for us. He has Tinsel and Dreams, and the hero is certainly dead.”

“No, that’s impossible! The hero can’t die,” Tales’ muffled voice whines. “At least, not until after the climax, but we haven’t even reached the end of the third act yet. this is all wrong…”

“No. There has to be something we can do.” Feasts refuses to accept their reality. His stomach churns, but this pain isn’t hunger. Guilt chews at him from the inside, leaving him hollow and cold ever since he watched the hero be taken away.

This is all his fault. The Rat King was supposed to attack Feasts, not them. The hero was right that they should have gone with the others to the garden, but he just couldn’t help himself. He felt safer with the hero at his side. He knew they were having trouble believing in themself, but Feasts thought that if he believed hard enough for them, then it would be enough. Was it not enough?

He was a fool to bring them into this conflict in the first place, he realizes. Someone as kind and courageous as them shouldn’t have to fight in someone else’s battle.

And yet they did. Feasts couldn’t remember the last time he’d witnessed someone do something so selfless, and all for a group of strangers they didn’t even know. He couldn’t forgive himself if things ended this way.

“What can we possibly do?” Sweets sniffles. “Tinsel was the strongest out of all of us, and he lasted - what, 10 minutes tops? None of us stand a chance, whether we’re alone or together.”

“Then in that case,” Pages stands up and brushes off his robe, “I’m going home. I suggest you all move your castles and change your passwords. Better yet, no more passwords. Seal them off entirely.”

“We can’t do that! How will we sustain trade between the kingdoms?”

“We won’t.” He says it like it’s so simple. “From here on out we must carry on alone, for our own sakes. Is that not what we intended when we split up in the first place?”

“Y-yeah, but…” Tales tries to come up with an excuse, but he has nothing. Nobody can argue with Pages’ logic, but nobody looks happy about it.

Especially Feasts.

He isn’t the type that usually speaks out, but this time he has lost too much, and he is too fed up with his brothers’ stubbornness to let this pointless feud keep going any longer.

The Prince of Feasts brings his hands down on the table, rattling the untouched platter of cookies and cake in the center, and his brothers flinch at his blunt accusation. “None of you actually want that, do you?” The three of them exchange awkward glances between each other. “No, you never did. We only stayed apart after the war because we were too ashamed to admit that we went too far! The relic is gone, but we’re still here, and we still have each other. That’s the way it should have been all along.”

“It’s too late, Feasts,” Pages sighs. “What’s done is done. There’s no going back to the way things were.”

Feasts fixes an angry glare on him and growls, “No, there’s not, but if you’re so intent on being alone, then you’re no better than the Rat King himself.”

The entire room goes as still as a graveyard. You could hear a needle drop if you were there, and you would see the chill of Feasts’ words sinking into their veins. Sweets’ hands cover his mouth, and Tales sits upright as if a bolt of lightning had gone down his spine. The Prince of Pages’ eyes are wide, his lips pressed into a thin line, fingers curling tightly into his own sleeves. Even the sugarplum fairies hang motionless in the air like they’re frozen in the predatory gaze of a cat.

Nobody dares challenge the statement. They can’t. They all know it’s true.

“…Henley would stay,” Tales says quietly, breaking the world’s longest silence. “They wouldn’t give up, even if the odds were against them.”

“That’s because Henley is a hero,” Sweets points out. “We’re not.”

“But Henley never fought alone. The Sovereigns always had their back, just like the hero had theirs. Like our hero did.”

Feasts nods. “Heroes need heroes, too. And we need each other.”

In the end, it all comes down to Pages, who has been speechless for the last several minutes. He has a look on his face like he could boil an ocean at a glance. Everyone is half expecting him to explode, but then he turns away from his brothers and points his resentment back out the window, glowering at the dark clouds gathering on the horizon.

“We’re better than him,” he decides, “and we’ll make him pay.”

Chapter Text

“Do ya remember that time Pages snuck a cat into his room?”

The Rat King is as still as a statue while he stands in front of Mammon’s cell, eerily calm and composed as he stares through his visor. He carries himself different this time, more like a man than a beast, but you don’t trust it, knowing just how fast his mood can flip like a switch. Mammon stays balled up in the corner of his cell as far from the other as he can be, but he forces a smile when he speaks.

Apparently, Mammon’s plan to get the Rat King to let his guard down is to try to get him to reminisce about their days before the war. Specifically, when they were children, which is something you can’t say you’ve ever heard any of the demons talk about in the Devildom. You’re not even sure if they ever were children at any point, it kind of sounds like they popped into existence fully grown, so as terrified as you are right now, you can’t help but be intrigued.

“Five minutes left, Tinsel.”

The Rat King, unfortunately, is not taking the bait. He doesn’t answer any of Mammon’s questions or partake in any memories. He simply stares through his visor, his new strategy unknown at this time. Beating the pulp out of Mammon didn’t work, so now he’s doing…something else.

All he said when he came back is that Mammon has exactly ten minutes to give the Rat King the information he wants. He didn’t say what will happen after ten minutes, but he doesn’t need to. Your imagination is threatening enough as it unwillingly fills in the blanks, and you can be assured that no matter what terrible things you come up with, whatever the Rat King has planned is sure to be far worse.

“It turned out to be pregnant and then gave birth under his bed that night.” The Prince of Tinsel presses on. “You know how Pages tried to convince us to let him keep them? He told us that he was the mom! Poor kid had no idea why we were laughin’ at him so much. What ever happened to those cats, anyway?”

The Rat King says nothing. Mammon rubs his chin for a moment and then inexplicably remembers.

“Oh yeah, ya let them live in the storage room. Put’m to work catchin’ pests, but eventually they got too fat to do their jobs, ‘cause Pages kept bringin’ them treats and saucers of milk when ya weren’t lookin’. Did ya ever find out about that?”

Still nothing. Not even a twitch.

“Okay…how about the time Feasts got stuck in the kitchen dumbwaiter?”

“Four minutes.”

This isn’t going well, but you hold onto your faith that Mammon will turn this around. He has to. There must be something that can bring the old Lucifer back out, if only for a moment.

Mammon is starting to get more frustrated by the minute, though. After a few more attempts, he appears to lose some steam, settling into a sigh. “…Ya know…I don’t think you’re really him, after all.” The Rat King’s silence prompts him to clarify. “The Prince of Loyalty, I mean. What did ya do with him?”

“I’m the Rat King now.”

“No you’re not. You’re a fake.” Mammon shifts where he sits, leaning forward with a suspicious frown. “Admit it: ya never were my brother. You’re some random bastard who came around and did somethin’ to Loyalty so you could take his place, didn’t ya?”

“It doesn’t matter what you think. The Prince of Loyalty is gone, either way.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It matters to me, cause I’m not about to tell a total stranger where the other princes are.” He crosses his legs and glares at the Rat King, who has finally moved, if only to tilt his head slightly to the side. It’s barely anything, but it still makes you flinch. “Prove to me that you’re him. If you can do that, then I’ll talk.”

The Rat King contemplates this offer for a suspenseful moment. It’s a bold move to rile him up with his old name like this. Even if Lucifer goes along with it, will it be enough to bring his guard down?

Don’t worry, just leave it to the Great Prince of Tinsel!

We’re all here because we believe in you.

All you have to do is believe in yourself, and luck will do the rest.

Right. Believe in your magic luck powers. Believe in yourself. Believe in your friends, because they believe in you, and by the laws of this crazy world, it will all be okay.

…

This is going to work.

You swear entire continents have merged by the time Lucifer responds. He reaches up and takes off his helmet, revealing his face, still hosting that permanent grotesque smile. “Does that suffice?”

“Hmmm…I mean, I guess ya sorta look like him,” Mammon squints. “But that doesn’t really prove anythin’. It’s not hard to change your appearance or possess someone’s body or somethin’.”

“How would you have me prove my identity, then?”

“How about…” Mammon gives it a moment of thought, then snaps his fingers when he comes to an idea. “Do ya remember when Dreams was really little and he used to get scared durin’ storms?”

“You were the one was afraid of storms, not Dreams.”

“No, no, it was definitely Dreams!” Mammon insists a little too fervently. “Every time it stormed he wouldn’t stop cryin’ and beggin’ me to take him to your room, and when I did, you would sing a song to calm him down. How did that song go?”

“…You want me to sing?” Lucifer’s eyebrows raise.

“Yup. It’s something only the Prince of Loyalty would know, so don’t mess it up!”

Lucifer’s lips twitch and he crosses his arms, clearly unamused by the terms of this deal. If it weren’t for the curse mangling his face, he’d be scowling something fierce. You can’t believe this is seriously Mammon’s big plan, to get the Rat King to sing, of all the ridiculous-

“Behind every cloud…is a place bright and blue

That place is right here, when I’m here with you.”

Holy.

Shit.

He’s singing. Lucifer is actually singing! His baritone voice would be pleasant if he wasn’t awkwardly trying to speed through the melody, doing his darndest to stay stoic, but he has to look away when Mammon smiles at him. It’s a real smile this time.

He picks up where Lucifer left off, slower and softer.

“No thunder too loud, no wind is too strong

To take you from me…”

He gestures for the other to complete the rhyme. Lucifer’s shoulders slump.

“…When you’re in my arms.”

This is so surreal. To see these two singing a children’s lullaby together, separated by the bars of a prison cell, is a weird mesh of wholesome and heartbreaking. The song seems to be working, though, if the dizzy look blooming on Lucifer’s face says anything. His eyelids are drooping and his posture wilts.

“The rain will stop falling…wait here and see

that what will be left, is you…and……me…”

Once Belphie’s magic sets in, it sure takes over quick. In the next moment, Lucifer can’t seem to stand upright anymore, and he falls to his knees with a sharp clack. It looks like he has realized what’s happening as he struggles to keep his eyes open, but his strength bleeds like ink on wet paper, especially when Mammon comes forward and reaches out to coax him gently to the floor.

“Rest, Loyalty,” Mammon whispers. “I’ve got ya.”

You’re still on edge even after Lucifer falls unconscious, unsure if you can trust it. The cursed grin stays on his face even in his sleep, which is creepy as all hell, but when he stays down and his breaths come even and slow, you turn to Mammon for a well-earned high five. Holy crap, he did it!

Mammon isn’t quite in the mood to celebrate, though. He rubs his face with the back of his hand.

“He’s still in there, after all.”

You hear the emotion in his voice and put your hand down to give him some space. He just got a glimpse of someone he didn’t know he’d ever see again, and for all he knows, he may never see again. But he’s there, and he always has been there, and you wish nothing more than to tell Mammon as much, but there isn’t time. You’re not sure how long Belphie can keep Lucifer asleep.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, got it?” Mammon tells you as he summons two ravens from his mantel, one on each shoulder. They begin pecking at Lucifer’s body, prying their beaks between seams of metal and scouring any pocket they can find for the key to Belphie’s cage. “It won’t help if they...it’s better if they don’t know.”

He doesn’t want the others to feel this way when they all face the Rat King. That seems like something Lucifer would do, doesn’t it? Keeping secrets to spare the others from pain? Perhaps Mammon took after his older brother a little more than he thought.

The raven that finds the key caws in delight. It was on a string around the Rat King’s neck and it fizzles just like the bars of Belphie’s cage did when Mammon tries to touch it. The ravens are immune, though, and they try to use it on your cells first, but as you expected, it doesn’t fit. There’s only one other lock it could be for, then, which means you’re relying solely on the Prince of Dreams now.

The ravens fly off, one to deliver the key, and one to alert the others of your escape. The two of you ready yourselves for what’s to come, watching Lucifer carefully for any sign of stirring. Everything is going to plan for once, and you’re finding it a lot easier to believe in your magic luck powers now.

The game isn’t over yet.

Mammon pretends none of that ever happened as soon as his eyes are dried and you don’t press him on it. While you wait, he takes the handful of broken gold from his pocket and squeezes them in his fist, and when he opens it, all of the fine bits of chain have been woven back together.

He busies himself putting his jewelry back on and it must make him feel like his old self again, because he flashes a toothy grin at you while you watch. “I take back what I said, your luck ain’t half bad. Perhaps I should add ya to my treasure trove when this is all over.” You make a face at him and he snickers. “Eh, or maybe not. Feasts got dibs, didn’t he?” You make another face, and this one flashes hot. “Come on, ain’t it obvious? He looks at ya like he looks at a five-course meal.”

Not having any other way to defend yourself, you sock him in the arm through the bars to shut him up.

“Ack! Hey, watch it! I’ve been beat up enough for one day, don’t ya think?”

You only feel a little bad for hitting him on a bruise.

As embarrassing as Mammon’s teasing is, at least it distracts you from the minutes rolling by of waiting for something to happen. Finally, after twenty agonizing minutes, you hear soft footsteps running towards you, and you and Mammon are relieved when Belphie comes down the stairs, just as Mammon said he would.

“Took ya long enough!” he cheers, only to be harshly shushed.

“Pipe down, you idiot! It’s hard enough keeping him asleep like this, let along with your annoying voice!” Belphie scolds quietly. He steps over Lucifer’s body to inspect your cells, giving your captor a curious glance. “I can’t believe you actually got his guard down. How did you do it?”

“No time. Just get us out of here already,” Mammon demands at a much lower volume. “We’ve gotta meet up with the others. They should already be on their way.”

“Do you know where the keys are?”

“No idea. My birds searched the Rat King and they only found yours.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. What are you expecting me to do, then? I can’t touch your cell, see?” Belphie moves his hand near the door and he gets zapped like a bug zapper.

It suddenly occurs to you that you didn’t get zapped when you touched the bars earlier, did you? You try it again, and sure enough, nothing happens, just like with the ravens. The other two take a great interest in this.

“I guess it only reacts to the princes.”

“Oi, hero, you can pick the lock!”

Uh, what? You have no idea how to pick a lock, let alone when it’s facing away from you! You shake your head, but Mammon isn’t deterred. He pulls out a lockpick from the lining of his cape and hands you the set of thin curved metal like it’s no big deal.

“All ya have to do is hold the picks,” he says. “Dreams will do the picking. It’s easy, I’ll walk ya through it.”

It’s not easy. You both spend too much time struggling to follow Mammon’s instructions, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Belphie could use his own hands instead of yours. He does his best to carefully hold your fingers in place and direct your movements for you while you sit there trying not to be too self-conscious about how close your faces must be in order to hear the subtle clicking of the pins.

This is never going to work, you think, but then you catch yourself. No, you can’t have any doubt! This will work, just like how it worked last time!

Click

At that moment, the lock snaps and the door creaks open. Mammon punches the air in victory, and you have to contain the giddy laugh in your throat. Holy shit, you did it! These magic luck powers are badass! Now that you’re out, you make short work of Mammon’s lock, and the three of you are finally ready to escape.

Before you do, though, Mammon hesitates to leave the dungeon. He stays behind to take his cape off and lay it over Lucifer’s slumbering body, like a parting gift. This man beat him up and locked him in a dungeon, threatened to tear the world apart, and caused so much untold suffering over the last one hundred years, and yet Mammon still has it in him to remember the Rat King for the man he once was.

Belphie is much less nostalgic and tells him to hurry up. You help Mammon limp up the stairs and find giant rats snoring at the top. Belphie’s spell didn’t just effect Lucifer, it put the entire place to sleep! It’s very useful as the three of you are slowed down by your injured party member, and you make your way to the main gates for the fastest exit, but before you can reach them, a tremor rumbles through the castle.

A chill descends upon the air, snuffing out the candles lighting the hallways, and the rats start to wake up.

“TIIIIINNNSELLL!”

Mammon’s face goes pale as the Rat King’s voice reverberates all around you. The rats nearby shriek and gather, cutting off your escape route. Belphie swears and leads you down another hallway, only to be cut off by even more frenzied rats. None of you have any weapons to fight with so all you can do is run.

Mammon tries his best, but he can’t keep up with the two of you like this, so in desperation, the chase brings you onto the castle roof. The tiles are slippery from the wet ink drenching the entire place, so you hold onto each other as you try to avoid windows and find a place to hide.

“Dammit! We’ll be trapped if we stay up here!”

Belphie is right. The only way down is a ten story drop, and although you have faith in your magic luck powers, you’re pretty sure luck can only go so far.

“Dreams, take the hero and get away from here.” You look at Mammon like he’s crazy, because he is if he thinks you’re going to leave him! “I’ll distract him.”

“How the hell do you expect to distract the Rat King when you can barely run?!” Belphie points out. “You’d last two seconds!”

“I’m slowing ya down,” Mammon points out. “Either you two leave or none of us do!”

Absolutely not. You put your foot down on his stupid idea, trying to convey how much of a dumbass he is in one look. The self-sacrifice shtick isn’t nearly as cool the second time!

While you three are arguing about what to do, rats begin clambering onto the roof. Looks like it’s too late to do anything now. You brace yourselves, but just as all hope seems to be lost, you hear a shrill cry above your heads, and you look up just in time to see a large black bird flying towards you with something in its mouth.

It lands on your shoulder and nudges you with the object, which you take from its beak before it flies away. It’s…a mirror? A small mirror just big enough to fit in the palm of your hand. Mammon and Belphie are confused, but you, having seen a mirror just like this before, recognize what it is and know just what to do.

You give your reflection a kiss, and out from the portal pours a flurry of paper. Hundreds of pieces of debris, like pages ripped from a book, rush out of the portal in your hand and create a whirlwind surrounding you. The rats squeal when they’re smacked in the face and blinded, causing several to stumble and fall off the roof. The pages gradually come together and fold themselves into the shapes of people, which then transform before your eyes into actual people, all of whom you recognize.

It’s the other four princes!

They immediately begin fighting any rat that gets too close, Beel with his heavy longsword, Satan with a curved sabre, Asmo wielding a nimble rapier, and Levi with…is that a freaking katana?!

“Hero! Are you hurt?” he asks between enemies. “Don’t worry, we’re here to save you!”

“They’re fine,” Mammon answers for you, “but me on the other hand-”

“Shut up, Tinsel, I’m talking to the hero!”

Oh dear. A bewildered Belphie quickly fills him in while Mammon sputters. “The Rat King put a spell on their voice so they can’t – Tales, how the hell did you guys do that?!”

“We worked together!” Asmo says, materializing some weapons for his empty handed comrades. “Pages, Tales, and I figured out how to combine our magic to teleport!”

You are beyond impressed with their resourcefulness, though it would have been nice if they’d thought to do that earlier.

“Where’s the Rat King?”

The castle quakes under the intensity of the Rat King’s thunderous reply. “I’m right here.”

An explosion knocks several of your party members, including you, off their feet. You start to slide towards the edge, but Beel reaches out and grabs your arm just in time, pulling you up and bringing you to a flatter surface. Bits of stone and wood fall like hail around you, and you see that a hole has been blown through the roof. The Rat King jumps out from the smoke and lands before the princes, his helmet on and a blade in each hand.

“Welcome back.”

The darkened sky rumbles as if echoing his words. Everyone squares up shoulder to shoulder and grips their weapons tightly in opposition.

It looks like this is it. The final showdown between the Rat King and the Princes has begun.

And you are smack dab in the middle of it.

Chapter Text

“Your reign of terror ends here, Rat King!” Satan yells across the distance between the two rooftops. It looks like the Rat King’s rodent army has backed off to block the exits, just like during the fight in your bedroom. Are they really going to fight up here on the roof? It doesn’t seem like a very practical place.

“It has only just begun,” the Rat King answers. “You insolent children can’t stop me. The Land of Lamentation will be whole again, whether you like it or not!”

He takes one step forward, prompting everyone to react like a spring-loaded trap.

“Pages!” Levi shouts, and Satan brings out a book from his robe and tosses it into the air. The whole thing unbinds into yet another flurry of paper, this time forming the shape of a four-legged beast the size of a city bus, and when Levi touches its tail, the paper structure transforms into a lion.

The lion roars to life and jumps the gap, forcing the Rat King to avoid a swipe from its sharp claws. While they have the Rat King busy, Asmo and Beel fall back, taking you and Mammon with them, and Asmo shoves something in Mammon’s hand as you brace yourselves in the crook of a chimney.

“Eat this! It’ll restore some of your energy.”

“But this is a…wait a second,” Mammon squints at the blue raspberry ring pop and licks it. His eyes widen when the sweetness hits his tongue. “You motherfucker! They were candy this whole time?!”

Asmo pops it into Mammon’s mouth like a binkie to stop his complaining, then turns back around to join the others. Beel doesn’t go until he knows you’re secure, and he turns to Mammon, who is sourly crunching the deceptive hard candy. Though he’s butthurt about it, he stands up straighter than he was a minute ago as the sugar takes effect.

“Stay here,” Beel tells his older brother.

“Nuh-uh, no way! You’re not leaving me out of the fight!”

“You’re not fully recovered, and we need someone to protect the hero.”

“Protect the damn hero yourself. They’ve done their job, now it’s up to us to-”

“Tinsel, please,” Beel stresses. He grabs Mammon’s upper arm and forces him down a little rougher than was necessary. “I don’t want to lose them again!”

The waver in his voice is hard to miss. He must have been really worried when you were taken away. Of course he’d be worried, he’s your friend! But the way he said that just now makes you think of Mammon’s teasing from before, and a hopeful part of you is starting to think that maybe he wasn’t completely full of shit, after all. Does Beel really…

There’s no time to dwell on the fluttering in your stomach, though. Murky drops have started falling from the low hanging clouds above, and it stains the lion gray as it melts into a clumsy pile of soggy paper. The Rat King slashes the softened pulp in half as easily as a hot knife through butter, and Satan and Levi tag out for Asmo and Belphie to take over.

Those two never got the chance to figure out how to combine their magic, so they’re going to need help. Mammon angrily yanks his arm out of Beel’s grasp. “Ugh, fine! But you owe me big time! Go!”

Beel gives you one last longing look before he rushes into battle. You are speechless as you watch him go, with or without the spell quelling your voice, and Mammon’s hand grips his sword tightly as he stands guard over you. “You’re the most troublesome hero ever,” he tells you.

He’s not wrong.

Belphie keeps the Rat King busy in the time it takes for Beel to join the others. He raises a hand up and summons twinkling lights in the sky that rain down in a meteor shower, and the Rat King tries to dodge them, but he ends up with several dents in his armor. Beel kneels and calls Sweets’ name, clasping his hands together in front of him like he’s going to give him a boost, and when Sweets places his foot there, Beel launches the weightless prince like a slingshot.

“YOU RUINED MY HAIR, RAT KING!”

His rapier cuts a horizontal path through the black rain, and the Rat King just barely manages to defend before Asmo hits in a flash of sparks. It’s gratifying when his foe slides back a step, but it quickly becomes clear that without the added momentum from Beel, the rest of his strikes are as effective as trying to break a rock with a piece of straw.

The Rat King easily forces Asmo back, who tries to nimbly spin away, but he suddenly finds that his feet are stuck. His legs are sinking into a puddle of ink like quicksand, just like what happened to you in the throne room, and he flails like a mouse caught in a trap as the Rat King comes closer to disarm him.

“How nice to see you all getting along for once,” the Rat King muses, snapping the thin blade of Asmo’s rapier in front of him. Asmo can always create a new one, but that doesn’t make the move any less intimidating. The rain comes down even harder, steadily turning Asmo, and everyone else, into dirty shades of gray. The others are too far away to help him, so all they can do is watch as Asmo disappears inch by inch.

For a horrifying moment it looks like their attack has gone horribly wrong, but to your and the Rat King’s surprise, it turns out this was all part of the plan.

With the ink almost up to his knees and the Rat King in reach, Asmo thrusts his face into the other’s metal chest. You’re not sure what the hell he’s doing until you hear a loud, “Muah!” and the Rat King’s reflective armor ripples with Asmo’s enchantment. The Rat King steps back, but it’s too late, because not a second later, Beel comes through the makeshift portal and delivers a punch hard enough to send him flying.

Apparently while he was focused on Belphie and Asmo, Satan was busy unrolling a scroll that turned out to be a 2D mirror, and as soon as they got the signal from Asmo, Levi made the prop real and they sent their hardest hitter through.

You can’t believe how coordinated those four are when they work together! They must have spent the whole time strategizing while you, Mammon, and Belphie were working on your jail break, and you’re touched that although the odds were stacked against them, they still clearly never gave up on you.

You can tell by the look on Mammon’s face that he’s impressed, and Belphie must be blown away, too. The one who’s the most impressed, however, is the Rat King, who somehow manages to land on his feet after crashing high up into the side of one of the castle’s brick spires. Beel pulls Asmo out of the ink trap as their adversary starts to laugh.

“Very good! And it only took you fools a hundred years. Maybe in a hundred more, you would’ve actually stood a chance against me.”

The Rat King doesn’t give them the time to respond. He attacks Beel in a flash and thunder cracks above them. It’s just like when they fought in your bedroom, except this time, Beel isn’t alone. Asmo joins in, and so does Satan, Belphie, and Levi, and they all work together to try and overwhelm the Rat King, or at the very least, wear him down.

Even against five people, the Rat King is able to keep up, but despite his haughty words, there’s strain in his movements as he parries with his twin blades. He’s evenly matched against the five, and the sixth looks on like a dog at the end of his leash.

“Fuck it! I need to go,” Mammon finally breaks, and you panic. You both know that Lucifer is done for if he joins the fight.

You grab his arm to hold him back. The Rat King isn’t evil! Don’t kill him! You have no way to communicate this, aside from a vague anguished look, and Mammon easily shrugs you off.

“Dammit, hero, if I don’t help then we’ll lose! You’ll be fine, just stay here!”

The Prince of Tinsel takes off. He sticks his fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly, summoning both of his large ravens, who merge with each other into one huge raven that catches Mammon in its talons right as he jumps off the roof. He glides over the gap, taking his jewelry off and magically fusing the thin strings into one long heavier chain.

That’s when things go from bad to worse.

Mammon drops right behind the Rat King and swipes the chain at him. It catches one of his twin blades in mid-swing, and the brothers take full advantage of the slim opening. After that, blows begin to connect. The Rat King’s parries become less and less effective as the full force of all six princes overwhelms him at once. He swiftly loses ground, and by the time he realizes he should retreat, it’s too late, because he’s surrounded on all sides.

“It’s over, Rat King,” Satan says. “Surrender now and we’ll make it quick!”

“Never,” the Rat King growls. “You will all bow to ME!”

Lightning flashes and the rats begin to swarm again, skittering and screeching all over the roof, but Belphie creates a curtain of shooting stars to keep them from helping their master, which also blocks your view of the battle.

You leave the safety of the chimney nook and try to think of something, anything that you can do, but you’re too far away from them all, and even if you did reach them, then what? Maybe your luck powers will kick in?

As you pace back and forth nearly tearing your wet hair out, you nearly trip over something that was left behind in all of the chaos. It’s the mirror that Satan and Levi used to teleport Beel! You pick it up and turn it on its side to drain the inky rainwater pooled on its surface, and the glass is smudged, but you can still just barely see your reflection peeking through. Will it still work?

A guttural scream from within the meteor curtain makes your breath seize and heart jump to your throat. You’re not sure who that bone chilling sound came from, but whoever it was, they need help right the fuck now, so you throw caution to the wind.

You kiss the dirty mirror, its surface ripples, and you don’t hesitate to jump in head first, praying that you’re not too late.

Meanwhile, behind the curtain, all six brothers have the Rat King on his knees. His armor is mangled and falling apart from the devastating blow Feasts just landed on him. Tinsel has managed to tangle him up in gold chains, and Feasts, Pages, Tales, and Sweets all grab hold to pull the bonds tight, effectively immobilizing their thrashing enemy.

They won’t be able to hold him down for long, so Dreams raises his star-tipped spear for the final blow that will end this fight and bring peace back to the lands. His former brother looks up at him with those burning red eyes one final time, and while the sight should fill him with glee at finally getting revenge for the century of torment, the destruction of his kingdom, being locked in a cage, and the threats against Feasts and his family, somehow this moment is not as satisfying as Dreams hoped it would be.

The Rat King lurches against his chains and the others tell Dreams to get it over with. Tinsel has turned his head away, unable to watch. Never has victory been so somber, but at least they know it will be the last thing the Rat King takes from them.

Dreams brings the spear down, and as luck would have it, that’s when you burst forth from what remains of The Rat King’s chest plate.

You’re so disoriented from your instantaneous travel that you don’t understand what’s going on right away when you arrive. You didn’t come in with a plan, so you do the only thing you can think to do and stretch your arms out to shield the Rat King from whatever is happening, not realizing that it already has.

The rain stops. You can hear everyone’s gasps clearly in the sudden absence of noise, reminding you of the unnerving quiet of Satan’s library. At first you think they’re just surprised to see you here, but then you notice the wide-eyed horror on their faces, and you follow their eyes down to the spearhead plunged deep into your stomach.

Oh…you’ve been impaled.

“HERO!” Beel is the first to shout, and he drops the chains to catch you as your knees give out. The adrenaline keeps you from feeling any pain just yet, but the shock makes your whole body go numb. “No, no, hero, no!”

One would think the Rat King would have taken the opportunity while they’re distracted to break free, but he does not. Even as the chains wrapped around him go slack, he sits there frozen to the spot as the princes crowd around you in a panic.

“I-I’m okay,” you deliriously assure them, and it takes a moment to realize you just spoke without coughing up ink. You cough up something else, though, and it tastes warm and metallic.

Oh god. That’s not good. You’re not okay, are you?

As your mind struggles to comprehend this, Beel snaps the spear to better stabilize you, and as much as you wish he would take the whole thing out, you’re still lucid enough to know that would probably make you bleed out faster. Bright red drips down the slanted roof tiles, a single spot of color in this damp monochrome world, aside from the colors of the princes’ worried eyes hovering over you. So many colors…

“Look at me,” Asmo snaps his fingers at you to get your attention. “Keep your eyes on my beautiful face, sweetheart, you’re going to be okay!”

“This is all my fault!” Levi wails. “There was so much foreshadowing, I should’ve seen this coming!”

“Why did ya do that?! Are ya fuckin’ stupid?!”

“Everyone back up, you’re not helping!”

Although you somehow have your voice back, they’re all too noisy for you to get a word in. You’re getting dizzy, but you do find one thing that grounds you, and you focus on the strong arms bracing you under your shoulders and one cupping your cheek with a calloused hand. Beel has tears in his eyes as he looks down at you, and you might be the one who’s dying, but it breaks your heart to see him so scared.

…Wait, is that true? Are you really dying? You feel like you should know since you’ve died before, but it doesn’t feel very much like the first time Belphie killed you. You suppose that might be because getting stabbed is a bit different from having your neck snapped, though. At least it was an accident this time.

Dammit, you thought your magic luck power was supposed to protect you! Luck must have its limits, you guess, but this doesn’t seem fair at all. You were so close to beating the game and going home. After everything that’s happened since you arrived in the Devildom, this is really how it all ends?

Ugh, you can’t believe you’re seriously going to die in a video game! You’re going to come back as a ghost and haunt Levi’s ass.

“Hero, don’t go,” Beel says, his small voice bringing you back to the present. The tears spill over, creating streaks on his dirty cheeks, and you try to wipe them away, but your arm is too heavy to lift that high, so you cup your hand over his and hold on. “Don’t die!”

“I’m sorry…it looks like I couldn’t live up to the hype after all…”

He shakes his head. “No, don’t worry about that. You’ve done enough. Just…j-just hang on!”

You’re trying, but unless Barbatos shows up with his mysterious time travel deus ex machina again, you’re not so sure you’re going to make it through this one.

“Someone do something!” Levi cries, “What kind of party doesn’t have a healer?! One of you must know a spell that can help!”

“I do.”

The group is startled by that voice, reminding them of the monster they came here to kill. But he’s not the same man they fought only a minute ago. The Rat King’s black armor has melted into a puddle, which dissolves as warm sunlight peeks through the parting clouds. The rats are gone, too, and everything in the Land of Lamentation that had been stained by the ink is gradually being restored to its former self, including Lucifer, who’s face holds no trace of the wicked grin he’s been wearing for a hundred years. He looks dazed, like he just woke up from a dream.

Despite the sudden change, everyone is still on guard, and they all brace themselves the moment Lucifer moves to stand up. “Stay back!” Satan warns. “You’ve done enough, Rat King!”

“I’m not…” he looks down at himself, then back to you, and something visibly clicks in his head. “…It was you! Hero, you freed me!”

You did? Hold on, does that mean the relic’s curse is gone? Is that why you can talk now?

You clear your throat and manage a weak, “How?” None of this makes any sense. All you did was throw yourself into the business end of a spear, so how in the world did that break his curse? Did it need a blood sacrifice or something?

“A selfless act,” he answers. “Your selfless act was more powerful than my selfish desire. Only heroes are capable of such a feat.”

Ah. Of course. You should have known it would be something cheesy like that.

Lucifer tries to take a step towards you but is blocked by his defensive brothers. “What are you talking about? Hero, what’s going on?!”

You’re a little too overwhelmed right now by the whole dying thing to know how to explain this to the others, but you don’t think you’re the one who should, anyway. “Tell them,” you say to Lucifer, who gets sheepish suddenly, and if you weren’t losing blood at an alarming rate, you would have smacked him. Is he seriously reluctant to tell them about the curse even now? You swear, pride is the most annoying sin of them all.

“…I was under a curse,” he starts awkwardly, choosing his words carefully. “The same one you were all inflicted with during the war.”

Lucifer reveals the truth to them, explaining how everything stems from that evil relic, that the wars were all his fault, and how he tried to fix it. He didn’t know that destroying the relic would transfer the curse to himself, but he considered it a punishment for his mistake. He hid the truth to shield the others from despair, because he believed there was nothing they could do, and even if they could, it wasn’t their place to have to save their elder brother. Lucifer felt it was his job to protect them, so if he couldn’t, then the least he could do was make sure they stayed strong enough to protect themselves, even if it meant becoming the bad guy.

“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard,” Asmo says. “All you ever did was weaken us by keeping us apart!”

“I know. At some point I realized that, which is why I was trying to gather you back together again…I think,” Lucifer shakes his head. “To be honest, it's all a bit of a blur to me. It made sense at the time.”

“Ah, who gives a fuck? You’re back now, and that’s all that matters!” Mammon decides, and he throws his arms around his brother to hug the daylights out of him.

Under normal circumstances, Lucifer probably would have punched him, but he’s too stunned by forgiveness to do much other than take it as all of his brothers drop their weapons and follow suit. Even Satan and Belphie join in, and if a family hug fest for a red-faced Lucifer is the last thing you see in your life, then maybe it was all worth it. Maybe.

“What I want to know is why breaking the relic didn’t break the curse, too,” Belphie ponders when Lucifer decides he’s had enough physical affection and pries them off. “That sounds like a selfless act to me.”

“Maybe it’s because ya kept your sufferin’ to yourself,” Mammon points out. “Your selfish desire to shoulder the burden alone is what was feedin’ the curse.”

Everyone looks at Mammon, surprised to hear something so observant come from his mouth, of all people.

“…You may be right,” Lucifer sighs. “I’m so sorry I failed you, everyone. Especially you, hero.” Beel, who is the only one that didn’t join the hug fest, holds you tightly to his chest as Lucifer kneels to see you eye to eye. The edges of your vision are starting to get dark. “You deserve this least of all.”

“You said you can help,” Beel says. “If you’re really the Prince of Loyalty again, then save them!”

Lucifer pulls one of his gloves off and places his bare hand over your wound. Everyone is expecting something to happen, including Lucifer, but when nothing does, he pulls his hand away confused.

“Oh…I see. This is how you got out of the dungeon, isn’t it? You aren’t from here.”

How he figured that out, you’re not sure, but you give him a small nod.

“What does that mean? You can’t save them?”

“I can, but I will have to send them back to their own world.” Oh, thank god! Relief hits you like a dump truck that you’re not supposed to die to win the game, after all. You thought it was weird that anyone would ever buy and play a game like that, so this ending makes a lot more sense. “When I do, I’m afraid they won’t ever be able to come back.”

Everyone looks shocked and saddened by this revelation, but even so, Beel doesn’t hesitate to agree. “Do it. Please,” he begs. He sounds like he was the one who got stabbed, with more tears welling in his eyes, but he clearly cares more about you being okay than anything else, even if it means saying goodbye.

You place your hand on his chest and give him a grateful smile. “It’s okay…we’ll see each other again,” you assure.

It’s touching to see how much they care about you, especially Beel, who holds you like he never wants to let go. You don’t want him to, either, truthfully. Beel has always been special to you, but this whole experience has shown you just how brave and caring he truly is, and it brought you closer to him than ever before. Your own little selfish desire is that it’ll stay that way once you’re back where you both belong.

“We’re going to miss you,” Levi sniffles. There’s not a dry eye between anyone as they watch Lucifer take his other glove off and prepare to send you home. “I wish I got to hang out with you more!”

“Don’t forget about me, okay?” Asmo says, doing his best to keep his eyes dry.

“We certainly won’t forget about you.”

“Don’t worry, hero, The Great Prince of Tinsel will take care of everything from here!”

“I didn’t really get to know you, but sorry for stabbing you and stuff.”

Beel takes your hand as it starts to slip. You’re still not in any pain, but it’s getting harder to stay awake. You feel his thumb hook comfortingly over yours. “Thank you for everything.” His voice echoes in your ears. “Let’s eat together next time we meet, okay?” That's definitely a promise you can keep.

Lucifer is doing something, but you can’t tell what it is. All you can see is a flash of light that burns your eyes, and you squeeze them shut as everything around you disappears.

.

..

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“WAKE UP, YA LAZY HUMAN! IT’S CHRISTMAS!”

Chapter Text

You yelp as the world around you violently bounces up and down, and your eyes fly open to see a white-haired demon with a toothy grin standing over you, jostling you every time he stomps his feet. 

“T-Tinsel?” 

He stops moving and quirks an eyebrow at you. “Eh? What’dya call me?” 

You’re feeling disoriented, so it takes you a second to notice how plainly the other is dressed compared to how you last saw him. A white tank top and gray sweatpants, no crown or gaudy princely attire, and there’s no trace of a split lip or bruises on his tan skin. You also realize you aren’t on a rooftop anymore; you’re lying in bed in your room, and this time you appear to be normal sized. 

“Oh, Mammon!” you gasp and sit upright. You’re back in the Devildom! Mammon jumps off the foot of your bed looking offended. 

“That’s The Great Mammon to you! I dunno who this Tinsel guy is but you’re better off dreamin’ of me instead, got it?” 

You roll your eyes and fall back onto your pillow with a tired sigh. So it wasn’t one of Levi’s games gone rogue, it was just a dream that whole time? All of it? That’s somehow both relieving and frustrating. Man, what did you eat last night? 

“Oi! Don’t go back to sleep,” Mammon tells you, swiping your blanket off and exposing you to the cooler air. “Didn’t ya hear me? It’s Christmas!” 

Right. Christmas. You pull yourself up and look at him incredulously. “What’s got you so excited? I thought demons didn’t care about Christmas.” 

“We don’t, but I wanted to be the first one to say Merry Christmas to ya.” 

Of course. 

You check the time to see that breakfast will be served soon, so you kick Mammon out to get ready for the day in peace, and he tells you before he leaves that Luke dropped off a whole bunch of cinnamon rolls for the House of Lamentation. Is that what the sugary smell wafting through the hallway is? How uncharacteristically nice of the small angel. 

“He said they’re for you, but Simeon made him make enough for the whole house,” Mammon snickers. Ah, that sounds much more believable. “Better get to the dinin’ hall quick before Beel gets there and devours them all!” 

Hearing Beel’s name reminds you of the Prince of Feasts’ last words, and you shut the door before Mammon catches your cheeks turning pink. Good lord, you are embarrassed! You still vividly remember the feeling of his arms around you, and your heart skips a beat thinking back to the night you shared on the balcony. It strikes you as silly to be mournful of something that never happened, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed that the Prince of Feasts will only ever exist in your memories. 

Well…sort of. It’s not like the real Beel has gone anywhere. 

You quickly get dressed and go through your morning routine, lost in your thoughts the whole time, and when you leave your room, the smell of cinnamon and sugar is even more powerful than before. You run into Satan and Levi in the hallway looking like absolute shit after their night spent on the roof, but they seem to be getting along just fine. In fact, they’re laughing about something like the fight yesterday never happened, so you guess Lucifer’s odd punishment was effective? Either that or it’s a Christmas miracle. Either way, you’re glad it all worked out. 

A ding in your pocket alerts you to a new message on your D.D.D. from Belphie. 

You’re not sure why Beel didn’t text you himself, but maybe he had his hands full? Or maybe he already left to be first in line for cinnamon rolls. Yeah, that sounds about right. 

You make a short detour to the twins’ room and go to knock on the door when you arrive, but it opens before you get the chance. It looks like Belphie was just leaving, and he nearly walks right into you while he yawns into his hand. “Oh, that was fast.” 

“I was just around the corner,” you explain. You step aside and let the youngest demon walk past you, leaving the door wide open, and you swear you see him smirk like he knows something you don’t before he turns around. What was that about? 

“Beel, you’ve got a visitor.” Looking into the room, you see that Beel isn’t in the dining hall eagerly awaiting celestial pastries like you thought he’d be. He’s hunched over at his desk, and he turns around when Belphie alerts him to your presence. 

For the Avatar of Sloth, Belphie sure left quickly. He told you to come and yet Beel looks surprised to see you standing in the doorway. “I heard my little soldier made a full recovery?” 

“Mm. Almost done,” he nods and goes back to what he was doing. You walk up behind him and peer over his shoulder to see he has a tiny paintbrush in his hand, and he’s very carefully touching up a chipped spot on the nutcracker’s arm. Talk about above and beyond! 

“Wow, Beel, it looks great! I can’t even tell it was broken,” you say, getting as close as you can without getting in the way. The cracks are so hairline that you can’t even tell they’re there, especially after he painted over them. For such a big guy, he has a remarkably steady hand. “I never took you for a craftsman.” 

“I took a shop class last year. It comes in handy.” Beel dabs a couple more spots before setting the nutcracker down to dry. It looks like he’s using acrylic paints, so it should only take a few minutes. You take the time to lean on his shoulder and admire his work. 

“Thanks for doing this. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble, but the little guy has really grown on me, you know?” 

“I’m glad you like it. I was worried nobody would.” 

 Does that mean what you think it means? “You were the one who brought it to the white elephant, aren’t you?” 

He scratches his cheek sheepishly, guilty as charged. “I thought for it to be a Christmas gift, it had to be Christmas related. Didn’t know it could be anything. It took me awhile to find something, but then I found this nutcracker, and I thought it would be perfect.” 

So that’s why it seemed so out of place! Poor Beel. He went through so much unnecessary effort just so that he could play your game. 

“Everyone else’s gifts were so much better, though. I wasn’t surprised that nobody wanted mine.” Beel rests his arms on the desk in front of him, rubbing one of his wrists with his thumb. “But then you picked it out of everything else at the very end. That made me happy.” 

His eyes lift to you when he says that, a sweet little smile on his face, and yours warms by a few degrees. “I-I mean, someone had to rescue it from Mammon, right?” you shrug, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal. 

It is kind of a big deal, though. You had a feeling that nutcracker was special, and after the role it played in your crazy dream last night, you can’t help but feel a certain connection to the little wooden prince who stayed by your side through thick and thin, much like a certain someone you know. The way Beel is looking at you right now reminds you of how Feasts looked at you on the balcony, but surely that’s just a coincidence, right?  

“Where did you get it, anyway?” You ask, changing the topic before he notices the way you’re suddenly fidgeting. “I can’t imagine nutcrackers are all that common in the Devildom.” 

“There’s a store in the market that sells random items from the human realm,” he says. “Most of them were cursed items confiscated from witches, but the merchant said the curse on this one is old and probably wore off by now.” 

“…What kind of curse?” 

“Something about making people act on their selfish desires,” he recalls. You’ve gotta be kidding. Under the weight of your deadpan stare, Beel suddenly connects the dots. “Oh…maybe that’s what caused the fight last night?” 

Yeah, no shit. And maybe that’s what’s causing you to feel so restless around Beel right now. 

He frowns, looking over the nutcracker like he only just thought of this. You love him, but damn, he can be a dummy sometimes. “I mean, it would make sense. We should probably have Lucifer check it out.” 

He agrees, and after checking to make sure the paint is dry, he gets up and you follow him out of his room. 

The two of you find Lucifer in the kitchen where he appears to be standing guard over the oven where breakfast is being kept warm. Several trays of golden-brown buns can be seen through the little oven window, glistening with sugary glaze, and the sweet heavenly smell that’s been wafting through the house blasts your nostrils tenfold the moment you enter the room. Beel instantly has that hypnotized look of hunger in his eyes, and you know his self-control must be hanging by a thread, so you preemptively grab his arm to help anchor him in place. 

Lucifer seems to be in a good mood while he pours a cup of coffee from a freshly made pot with his back to the door, humming a strangely familiar tune. You swear you recognize the melody, but before you can put your finger on it, Beel’s stomach growls and alerts Lucifer to your presence. He turns around and crosses his arms, casually leaning his hip on the counter like he’s not at all surprised. 

“Good morning,” he greets. “I know it’s a special holiday for our exchange students, but breakfast is still being served at the regular time. Be patient.” 

Beel looks like a kicked puppy when his hopes of procuring an early bite are dashed before he can even ask. You shake your head and hold up the nutcracker. “Actually, we’re here because of this.” 

“Ah, you fixed it.” Lucifer leans in to see his brother’s craftsmanship. “You did a fine job, Beelzebub, it looks as good as new.” 

“Thanks. I think it might have a curse on it, though.” 

“What makes you say that?” Beel tells him the story of how he acquired the nutcracker, and Lucifer rubs his chin. “That would certainly explain last night’s spat. Do you need me to dispose of it?” 

“No!” you quickly object. “No, we just need you to remove the curse. Beel worked so hard to put it back together, after all.” 

“Alright, let me see it.” Lucifer takes the toy from your hand and gives it a much closer look. He narrows his eyes at the little thing and turns it over, and after a thorough inspection, he doesn’t do anything and instead hands it back to you. “I don’t sense any curses present, actually. It was most likely dispelled last night when the nutcracker broke. Old curses tend to be quite fragile.” 

“Oh. So it’s a good thing Levi’s dumb butt crushed it, then?” 

Lucifer nods. “Yes, I suppose it was. The effect must have been subtle enough to influence some of the more…susceptible members of our little game last night. Who knows what could have happened if it was given enough time to fully manifest, especially if you’d taken it back to your room. You got lucky.” 

You sure did. “Man, that’s crazy. Who would even put a curse like that on a nutcracker?” you wonder. The poor innocent thing didn’t deserve to be corrupted like that. 

Lucifer shrugs and takes a sip from his mug. “Someone who had the intention of disrupting someone’s holidays, I’m guessing.” 

“What a grinch.” 

“Indeed. Breakfast will be served in five minutes, by the way. If that is all you need from me, then I suggest you go wash up and take your seats.” 

You thank him and leave to do just that, half-dragging Beel out of the kitchen before his drool needs to be mopped. Knowing him and his fondness for Luke’s cooking, he should be buzzing with excitement right now (he literally buzzes when he has his wings out, it’s pretty adorable) but somehow he manages to stay weirdly stone-faced while he stays by your side. It’s like he’s lost in thought. 

So are you, though. You have no choice but to come to terms with the fact that the nutcracker’s curse has nothing to do with the selfish way you’ve been feeling towards Beel since you woke up this morning. Or…were you already feeling a certain way about him before, and that dream was your subconscious’ way of telling you to figure it the fuck out? Thinking back on it, you have been somewhat gravitating to the Avatar of Gluttony a lot lately… 

But in your defense, who wouldn’t? He’s the nicest demon in the entire Devildom, after all! He’s always there when you need him, he gives great hugs, and there’s nothing quite like being on the receiving end of that charming smile of his. Not to mention he has a body like he was chiseled from stone, and- 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Beel says out of the blue, thankfully snapping you out of your rapidly deteriorating train of thought. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” 

“My gift almost ruined Christmas. I’ll get something better next time.” 

There he goes being so gosh darn sweet again. You clap a hand on his shoulder and try not to laugh at his unnecessary worrying. “You didn’t almost ruin Christmas, Beel! Sure, the nutcracker was cursed, but knowing your brothers, they probably would have found something just as stupid to fight about, anyway. Everything worked out in the end.” 

He reluctantly accepts your assurance, but he still doesn’t seem satisfied. “I still feel bad.” 

“Well, don’t. Your gift was fine. I picked the nutcracker for a reason, you know.” 

“Why?” he asks, then quickly looks away, like he didn’t mean to ask that question, but it’s too late now. “I mean…why did you pick it, anyway?” 

He put you on the spot with that one. There are a lot of answers you could give him, that it was nostalgic to you, that you thought it was cute, that you happen to have some tough nuts to crack, but somehow you end up telling him the truth instead. Usually, it’s not easy for you to talk about this stuff, but you figure if he’s that happy that you chose his gift, then he deserves to know why you did. 

“Because… Okay, don’t laugh, but I may have projected myself on it a little bit.” You fiddle with the wooden soldier in question while you talk, straightening its little hat. “After my parents remarried, I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere anymore. They had newer and better families now, and I was just someone else’s kid that they had to put up with every other week, I guess. So when the nutcracker kept getting passed around, I felt like…” It feels silly to say this out loud. “…Like all I really wanted was to give him a home, you know?” 

You are startled when a heavy arm drapes over your shoulders and pulls you into Beel’s side, abruptly stopping you mid-step. He’s trying to comfort you, you realize. Oh dear, did your honest answer make you sound that pathetic? 

“You’re good at that,” Beel mumbles into the top of you head. When did his face get so close? “The House of Lamentation has changed since you showed up. My family didn't usually get together very much like we did last night. They use the common spaces a lot more now, and even Levi leaves his room sometimes. I didn't realize how much I'd missed that.” 

Your face couldn’t be any redder right now. Between the awkward side-hug and unexpected heartfelt praise, you’re not sure if you want to stay here forever or melt through the floor. 

“You make this place feel more like home. I hope it can be one for you, too.” 

His words hit you in a way you were not prepared for. Deep down, there was an old nail in your body that has finally been hammered back in. You’re left speechless for a minute, not trusting your voice lest the lump in your throat betray the emotion his simple statement has conjured, drudged up from a place you have been trying to forget. 

Does he know how much it means to you to hear him say that? He must, the way he refuses to let you go, and you finally give in to your selfish desire to return his embrace and sink as far into him as you can. 

“…Thank you, Beel.” 

Who knows how long you two might have stayed like that if his stomach didn’t suddenly remind you of where you’re supposed to be right now. The whiny growl cuts through the quiet and he curses under his breath, embarrassed to have ruined the moment, which makes you laugh. 

“Come on, big guy. You’ve been a good boy this Christmas, so let’s go get you some cinnamon rolls.” 

Beel brightens up at that, and his smile only grows when you take his hand to lead the away. As much as you want to stay in his arms where it feels like you belong, you know there will be plenty of time for that later. 

For now, you have a promise to keep.