Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

For reasons that eluded him (fear and jealousy of his boundless potential? Because That Bastard knew every scrap of knowledge brought him that much closer to usurping him? Because they loved to see him suffer?), Satan was not allowed outside without a chaperone.

This meant the Other Tenants - Satan would chew his tongue off and swallow it before he'd call those wretched flops his brothers - took turns monitoring his every move. Like he was a child.

And today was Mammon's turn. He hated Mammon.

How degrading to have someone so stupid and irresponsible in charge of him. How humiliating that this brainless, materialistic imbecile ranked above him. He glared at Mammon's back, envisioning every brutal torture he could imagine on him.

Mammon ignored him.

"Ooh, look at you, gorgeous," he purred, tracing a finger along the glass display case of an intricate, crimson jewel. "Yer comin' home with me for sure."

He glanced around the shop, then broke out a wide grin. “Hey, cutie in the red dress!” he called out.

Satan fought the urge to slam his head into a door frame.

"What can I do for you two?" A demon with layered spikes adorning her brow like a horned lizard walked out from behind the counter.

“So, me an' my brother were checkin’ out what ya got on display and I gotta say - I like what I see!" Mammon turned back to the display case. "‘Specially this heliodor beryl ring with the diamond halo. That briolette cut is immaculate - swear I’m seeing shrimp colors the way the light bounces off it! And the inclusions? They ain’t flaws at all. Captures the essence of the stone, y’know?”

He looked up, the gold in his eyes sparkling. “Did ya cut this yerself or…?” he asked, gesturing towards the ring with a tilt of his chin.

The jeweler looked startled for a moment, then beamed with pride. “Yes!" she said. "I’ve always felt 'flaws' can make a piece one-of-a-kind. They give it character, y'know? And yeah! Everything here is made in-house, by me.”

She cocked her head and raised a long, spiny tail to her chin. “You have a keen eye," she said with admiration. "Are you a lapidarist?”

“Me? Nah, not really. I just know my way around a gemstone,” he said, smugly rubbing his nose. “I was just thinkin’... I’m kinda a hot commodity around here, ya know? One of the top three Rulers of Hell, an’ I ain’t three.” He winked. “So what d’ya say about me givin’ ya a little exposure ?"

The jeweler stiffened, a look of pain flitting across her face. Mammon didn't notice.

"Tell you what - lemme show off your spec-TAC-ular jewels - for free, o'course - and I’ll have the whole realm stormin’ through your doors," he boasted. "I guarantee it!”

“Mmmm…” The jeweler hid her mouth behind her tail and squeezed her eyes shut, as if she were deeply considering his insulting offer. Dozens of increasingly awkward seconds passed, causing Mammon's confidence to waver and his smirk to falter.

Just as he was about to play it all off as a joke, her eyes snapped open. With a sudden, fierce motion, she grabbed the greedy little demon by the horn, dragging his face down to hers.

Satan hoped she would kill him.

“O-Oi! The hell’re y-!?” he yelled.

“How ‘bout this?” she interrupted softly, breath hot and heavy on his face. Her tail prickled against his chin, sending chills down his spine. “I dunno about this ‘rulers of hell’ thing, but I do think you’re cute. I wouldn't mind seeing you branded… ”

Mammon swallowed hard.

“Sorry," she giggled, releasing his horn. " Seeing you in my brand.”

Before he could regain his balance, the jeweler snatched his hand, pulled a ring from her pocket, and slipped it on.

"Perfect,” she purred. She gazed up at him with shining black eyes, squeezing his palm to her chest. “Yellow sapphires are a little more costly but… You have such striking eyes and they match so well."

“O-oh! W-well, heh, that’s, uhm, true,” Mammon stammered. Flustered didn’t half describe his current state - he looked like he was going to explode. If she kept going, he might have choked on his tongue. 

Satan could only dream.

“Please?" she cooed. "Please wear it for me?"

“Y-yeah. Yeah! I’ll do it! O-only for marketing purposes o’ course,” Mammon choked out. The jeweler's smile widened and she released his hand, slowly trailing her fingers down his arm. 

“Ah, ahahaha! I-I think we’re done here.” Red-faced, Mammon hightailed it out of the store, grabbing his brother’s hand first. The shopkeeper waved goodbye.

Satan had been reading about gemstones lately - precious components to advanced potions that might one day knock Lucifer off his pedestal. He glanced at the ring on Moron Tenant’s hand. 

Quartz.

It was fucking quartz. 

Satan grit his teeth while Mammon skipped down the street.

—

One last stop, he’d told him. Mammon had heard rumors of a high-value, low-security antique shop at the edge of town and was simply curious how such a store could stay in business, that’s all.

Satan hoped the shop was triple cursed and would implode Mammon’s skull the second he walked in.

Unfortunately, Mammon’s head remained intact as he passed the threshold.

Or perhaps not so unfortunately? Satan was stunned by the shop’s interior, much bigger than the tiny cottage appearance outside indicated. Wooden shelves lined the walls, crammed with leather bound books. Dusty lamps emanated a soft, rosy glow onto strange gadgets and arcane contraptions. Abstract paintings adorned the walls and twitched when one wasn’t looking. Tomes of ludicrous size leaned against walls - one just a bit taller than Satan himself.

Satan fell in love in an instant, scrambling for the shelves like a man dying of thirst. Hellspawn Herbalism. Navigating Otherworldly Mazes. The Infernal Codex: Unraveling the Scriptures of Demonkind. Atomic Studies of Potion Making.

Satan pored through the books ravenously, oblivious to the world around him. Was this how the Other Tenants felt in the Celestial Realm? Was this what it felt like to belong? To feel truly at home? Utter contentment?

He never wanted to be anywhere else.

"All right, all right, I've seen enough!" Mammon said, grabbing him by the arm.

“Heh?” Reality felt like a barrel of ice cold water over his head.

"I said there’s nothin' good here, nothin' good,” Mammon repeated. "We're outta here!"

“But I'm still-" Satan protested.

"Nah, we've seen enough of this janky shop. Not one thing good enough for the Great Mammon!" He was surprisingly forceful, shoving Satan off-balance to make it easier to drag him to the door. "We're outie!"

Mammon flung open the door and took a step.

—

They slammed into solid rock, chest-first.

The collision stole the air from their lungs, leaving them stunned and gasping for breath. It was several agonizing minutes before the two could say a word.

Satan recovered first.

"Wha… What is this? Where are we?"

There was no lighting, or not real lighting, which didn't make sense. Of course the sun didn't rise in the devildom, but it certainly had street lights and electricity. Not an unending void lit with… bioluminescent slugs?

Satan squinted at the cornucopia of gastropods oozing dim radiance all over the floor, vaguely recalling a book about such cave creatures. They were either entirely harmless or an extremely corrosive jumping slug that was attracted to warmth. He took a cautious step back and swept his surroundings.

There were no other demons, no buildings, and no antique shop. The hustle and bustle of the city had been replaced by a dark, disorienting void.

"What the-? The hell are we?!"

Mammon's voice echoed through emptiness.

"I just asked that, idiot." 

Mammon bristled but Satan bristled right back. Maybe this wasn't directly his fault, but he’d pulled him from a book titled Beneath Enchanted Hollows: A Caver's Guide to Subterranean Realms. If Mammon had just waited...

"Huh!?"

Satan's thoughts were interrupted by Mammon abruptly slapping at his pockets.

"Where is-? Where'd it go?!" he asked in a panic.

"Where's what?"

"The pendant!"

"What pendant?" Satan wasn't one to notice fashion, but given that Mammon walked around shirtless, he was pretty sure the idiot hadn't been wearing a necklace today. 

"Oh…” Mammon hesitated. “The uh. The gift that I… bought... when you weren’t-”

“YOU STOLE IT?!”

“N-You’re wrong, I just-”

“YOU STOLE THE PENDANT”

“Look, ya don’t need to yell! Innit more important to figure out how we got here?”

“WE’RE HERE BECAUSE IT WAS CURSED, YOU LOON! OF COURSE IT WAS CURSED! AND BECAUSE I WAS WITH YOU, IT CURSED ME TOO!”

“Oh…" Mammon's eyes widened. He rubbed his chin and nodded, as if such an idea would have never occurred to him. "That makes a lot of sense! Good thinking, Satan!”

Satan squatted down and dragged his fingers through his hair. Unbelievable. Un-be-fucking-lievable. Trapped in the belly of the city with the world's most hollow-headed demon. Murderous fury boiled within him, tail twitching restlessly behind him.

Mammon, seemingly unfazed by the smoldering hatred targeted his way, started fiddling with something. His back was turned. The white lines of his demon marks glowed faintly in the dark, illuminating the edge of a sharp cliff in front of him.

Dangerous.

Satan crept forward, blood pounding in his ears. There wasn't one good reason for Mammon outranking him. There wasn't one good reason for him to exist at all. He was worthless. A dim-witted blight upon society. He was stupid, untrustworthy, a thief, and worst of all, stupid.

The Avatar of Wrath ran his tongue over his lips. Nobody would miss trash like Mammon. Demons didn't die easily, but bashing your brains at the bottom of a cliff, sharp rocks preventing your body from healing right, with no help on the way? How could anyone withstand the temptation? He was doing everyone a favor. They'd thank him. Worship him, even.

He bit back a laugh as he lunged forward to shove Mammon off the edge.

"Aye, Satan! Ya big bro got a signal down here!" Without warning, Mammon spun around, DDD in hand, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

Satan’s eyes widened.

Mammon’s grin faltered.

There was nothing in front of him but air.

—

Mammon hurled his phone to the side on instinct, snatching Satan's hand right before he teetered over the cliff. His fake ring bit into both their palms.

Satan frantically clutched Mammon's forearms, now painfully aware that his violent rampages didn't translate to functional upper body strength. His gaze darted to the jagged rocks below, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light. It was a shorter drop than he’d envisioned - just enough that he'd probably stay conscious as every bone in his body shattered. Satan tried to pull himself up again and failed.

The hell was this guy doin', playin' around cliffs like that?! Mammon thought as his wings fluttered uselessly behind him. Panic gnawed at his stomach. He knew Satan was like, a baby, kinda, a really smart, really big baby, but he thought the kid knew enough to not play around cliffs! 

Apparently not. 

C'mon think!

He strained to hoist himself up once more, but felt his body slide forward instead. A cascade of pebbles tumbled down the ledge.

He'd already lost a little sister. He knew that nightmare damn well. A life ended because he wasn't there. Because he wasn't strong enough. Because he didn't do everything he could.

And just like Lilith, he's gonna fall.

He swallowed thickly. It really didn't matter that Satan was a stuck up, disrespectful, rude little poindexter who dressed like a skeleton clown - this was his brother. His brother needed him right now. He couldn't let it happen, no, he wouldn't let it happen. Not again.

“H-hey lil bro.”

Satan's eyes snapped from the ground to his. 

“I-I know I ain't been the best role model for ya,” Mammon said shakily. “I know we wouldn't be here if it weren't fer me. Hell, ya probably think ion give two shits about ya. Getting caught up in my shit just ain't fair.” 

He swallowed again, trying to push down the guilt and fear that threatened to eat him alive.

“But I want ya ta know…I want ya here. I like showin’ you the town, introducin’ ya to stuff you’ve never seen before, hangin' out! You're my brother, y'know? You're my new baby brother an'..." he swallowed again. "I love ya. I want ya to rely on me, 'cause I'm here to protect ya.” 

A surge of power coursed through Mammon's veins.

"Ya hear that, Satan? I'm not just The Great Mammon!”

He flashed a cocky grin, the cords of his neck straining as he braced for one final, triumphant pull.

“I'm your Great Big Brother! And I've always got yer back!” 

Satan looked him dead in the eyes, face filled with contempt.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

 And let go.

Satan held eye contact all the way down, until the first stalagmite pierced his spine. The pain was immediate and intense. He gave a brief, bloodcurdling cry that was quickly interrupted by the second stalagmite rupturing his throat, followed by a third splitting his head in half. Wet, choking gurgles echoed out of his shattered skull and up the chasm.

Mammon was never quite the same afterwards.

—

The next day, the brothers found a new notice pinned to the living room bulletin board.