Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this. Not so soon.

This was going to happen eventually, but not like this. How could this have happened so soon?

They should have known when something did happen. Maybe they could have done something, maybe they could have prevented this.

If only they had known…

The madness started a week ago. In only a span of a few hours, you stopped answering your D.D.D. Messages the demon brothers sent you in the morning were responded to; you even had a phone call with Asmo that day, as it was his turn to call you. In the afternoon you had texted the group chat that you were going clubbing with some friends and would not be answering your D.D.D. until the next day around morning or early afternoon time. But the messages that were sent to you that afternoon and evening were never answered, even when morning came around. Anxiety started to spread around the House of Lamentation like a plague once it had been a solid twenty-four hours after your text with no reply to any of the Avatars. Lucifer has called for a family meeting in the living room to erase his brothers’ worries.

“What if she’s hurt or injured?” Leviathan worried aloud, holding his head in his hands as he curled into a ball on the couch.

“I’m certain she’s just fine. She has Human World responsibilities, after all,” Lucifer says, trying to calm his anxious brothers before him.

“But she isn’t answering her D.D.D. Shouldn’t we go up and check on her?” Belphegor asks, for once not sounding sleepy.

“Lord Diavolo wouldn’t allow us to go into the Human World without a proper reason,” Lucifer states.

“This is a proper reason!” Mammon shouts, standing on his feet. “She ain’t answerin’ her D.D.D.! That ain’t like her!”

Lucifer sighs as his brothers start to talk and squabble over each other. Each and every one of them getting on their feet to yell and try and shout over everybody. But Mammon’s right; this isn’t like you. But surely you had your reasons. You could be recovering from your night out. You also had your Human World responsibilities to attend to. You could also be catching up on relations that you’ve missed since being a student in Diavolo’s exchange student program for a whole year. Surely, there was a reason for your sudden silence.

“Everybody just calm down!” Lucifer says loudly. All of the other brothers’ silence and shuffle back into a seating position. “MC is fine. She’s survived the Devildom, she can definitely survive the Human World. I will, however, give notice to Lord Diavolo about her strange behavior. And if he allows us to go up to the Human World for a visit, then we will. But until then, I expect you all not to bother her by blowing up her D.D.D. until she’s finished with whatever she is doing.”

All the brothers go silent, but Lucifer can tell by the looks on their faces that they’re still filled with worry. He lets out an exhausted sigh; he’s worried too. But worrying won’t do any of them any good. He walks off to his study to write a letter to Diavolo, leaving his brothers to their own devices.

Most of the brothers return to their respective rooms; even Beelzebub, who normally raids the kitchen at this hour, quietly leaves for his own room with Belphegor. Everybody leaves the living room, except Mammon. Worry, confusion, and a budding sense of rage flows through the Avatar of Greed. Infernal magic begins to ripple through the room as Mammon lets his demon form show. Teeth turn into fangs, painted white nails grow out and sharpen to form claws, wings emerge from his back, spiraled horns emerge from his head, and his clothes change and warp to show the true power of the Avatar of Greed. The cushions he sits upon vibrate and the shelves holding a variety of books and knick-knacks shutter under Mammon’s power. How could Lucifer just excuse such a state of emergency? Well, if Lucifer won’t do anything about this dire situation, then he will!

Mammon quickly flees the House of Lamentation before Satan can pick up on his rage or Lucifer detects the presence of Infernal magic called upon by strong emotions. He closes the front doors behind him quietly before making a beeline to the Demon Lord’s Castle. Mammon’s wings twitch at all the thoughts racing through his mind. What if you were hurt? Where were you? Were you okay where you were? Surely you’d never just abandon him and his brothers overnight. Communication with you was always consistent since your return to the Human World. Something must have happened! And if Lucifer can’t be bothered to go to the Human World to check in on you, then Mammon will!

Thoughts and memories of your time in the Devildom flash through Mammon’s eyes as he runs through the streets of the Devildom, carelessly knocking over lesser demons who stand in his way. He recalls when the two of you had made a pact so he could be reunited with Goldie. He didn’t like the pact itself at first, but eventually grew to love the close and personal relationship with you. Mammon was your first, and would always be so. He also recalls how you first kissed him when he was being stubborn and trying to cover-up his feelings for you. How he possessed and worshiped your naked body in his bedroom when all of his other brothers were asleep. No, you wouldn’t just go silent over night to him, or any of his brothers. Not after everything that has happened, not after all the bonds you have made.

“Hang in there, my Treasure. I’m on my way,” Mammon mutters under his breath with a quiet intensity as the Demon Lord’s Castle finally comes into view.

Mammon runs around the perimeter of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Without Lucifer, it was highly unlikely Diavolo’s guards would let him in without reason; especially since Mammon had a tendency to try and steal and pawn off the Castle’s valuables. So instead, the Avatar of Greed has decided that the best way to get into the Castle and find the portal to the Human World was through the natural art of stealth.

Mammon hops the fence, using his wings to give him some extra height. He hides in the bushes of the Castle’s gardens to avoid being detected by the patrolling guards and knights. Mammon slinks over to one of the walls and uses his claws to scale all the way to the roof. How he got all the way up without getting detected must have been pure luck, but Mammon was not going to spit in the face or question Lady Luck.

But Mammon was not the stealthiest of demons. In an attempt to remove a skylight to sneak into the Castle, Mammon ends up dropping the glass right onto the head of the demon butler Barbatos.

In an instant, Barbatos transforms into his own demon form and uses his powerful magic to catch the heavy glass window that was about to crash on top of him. Barbatos levitates the precious sky window out of the way and looks up at Mammon with a disapproving scowl.

Mammon awkwardly chuckles down at the ancient demon below him. “Hey, Barbatos. How ya doin’?” He asks in a quiet and shaky tone. But it's loud enough for Barbatos to hear as Mammon's voice quietly echoes through the hallway.

“Fine, thank you,” Barbatos replies in his usual stoic voice. Then in a blink of an eye, Barbatos throws the window at Mammon with his magic. Mammon has no time to react as the window flies right at him and knocks him back with such a force that he is flung off the roof of the Demon Lord’s Castle with a very ungraceful scream.

Mammon falls onto his back with a loud thud and a long groan of pain as he’s surrounded by demon knights clad in golden armor with Diavolo’s seal on the forefront of their breast plates. They point their swords and spears at Mammon, keeping him in a tight circle.

“Fuck…” Mammon mutters, knowing he’s failed his mission.

Barbatos confidently strides up to Mammon after quickly repairing the skylight with his magic; he’s still in his demon form. He waves off the guards.

“I will take care of this one. Do not alarm the Young Master of such events; this is not important enough to disturb him.”

The guards obediently sheathe their weapons and resume their normal patrol without a second thought or question. Mammon crawls back onto shaky legs as his back and wings scream in terrible agony.

“What were you thinking?” Barbatos scolds as Mammon limps up to him.

“Look, Barbatos, I had my reasons–” Mammon tries to explain before being cut off by Barbatos.

“To steal precious artifacts, yes. We’ve done this before, Mammon. Let’s go.”

Barbatos forces Mammon in front of him and walks him back to the House of Lamentation like a child. Mammon sighs in defeat; even if he did get to explain his mission to Barbatos, the demon butler still wouldn’t do anything without Diavolo’s approval.

The march back to the House of Lamentation is long and painful. Demons stop in the streets to gawk at Mammon as Barbatos escorts him back home. It also doesn’t help that his entire body is aching from his long fall. Even for a demon, it’s miraculous that he didn’t break any bones.

Once at the front steps of the House of Lamentation, Barbatos grabs Mammon by the forearm and practically drags Mammon up to the front door.

“Oi! What’s the big deal, Barbatos!?” Mammon shouts, his whole body screaming in pain from the demon butler grabbing him and dragging him along.

But Barbatos ignores him and knocks upon the grand doors of the House of Lamentation. In only a few seconds, Lucifer appears at the front door. His facial features immediately turn into a scowl at the sight of his younger brother.

“I caught him attempting to break into the Demon Lord’s Castle, again,” Barbatos says to Lucifer as he hands Mammon over to him.

Lucifer roughly grabs his brother by the wrist in a death grip, causing Mammon to yelp out in pain. “I am so sorry you've had to deal with this, Barbatos. I will take his punishment into my own hands.”

Barbatos nods and turns around to walk back to the Castle. Lucifer quietly shuts the front doors before pinning Mammon to them. Mammon’s back hitting the doors creates such a loud sound that it echoes through the entryway into the rest of the House, followed by a long and agonized scream by the second-born.

“What were you thinking!?” Lucifer yells at his brother, keeping Mammon’s wrists pinned above his head. In fear, Mammon’s demon form immediately disappears.

“L-Lucifer, it ain’t what ya thinkin’! I was–”

“You were what!?” Lucifer shouts this time, slamming Mammon back into the doors.

Mammon lets out another pitiful groan before finally looking at the eldest in his black and crimson eyes. “I wasn’t tryna steal anythin’, really, I wasn’t! I was tryna get to the Human World portal! I swear!”

Lucifer all but growls at his brother. His teeth started to come to a point and black horns started to poke out of his onyx hair. “Didn’t I tell you that I would take care of this matter?” He hisses.

“Ya did, but–”

“But nothing!” Lucifer yells, his black, feathered wings ripping out of his back and ripping the fabric of his black and red vest-like button-up. They flutter angrily against the fur cloak he wears around the House. “You’re under house arrest,” Lucifer hisses angrily as he drags his brother through the House by one of his wrists.

“Please Lucifer! Please don’t! I swear I was just tryna protect MC!”

Lucifer ignored Mammon’s pitiful attempt at begging for mercy. Lucifer drags Mammon into the stairwell and grabs the long rope he keeps in there for punishment. With practiced precision, Mammon is hung upside down in the stairwell as Lucifer storms back into his study, ignoring Mammon’s cries for help.

Lucifer storms into the library and slips through the secret door that leads to his personal study. He sits down at his desk with an angry huff. He looks back over the letter he had written for Lord Diavolo, before he was rudely interrupted by Mammon's stupidity. It is written professionally and meticulously while also getting Lucifer’s point across about this being a possible situation that needed handling. But at the same time, the letter didn’t feel authentic in Lucifer’s hands.

This was you he was discussing in this letter, but the actual letter itself felt so cold and on-point. While you yourself were so full of life and excitement. Lucifer sighs as his body slumps, and lets himself be consumed by the memories. How you slowly made a life here in the Devildom and became acquainted and close to Lucifer and his brothers. And how some nights after RAD he would invite you into his bedroom to listen to classical music with him on one of his records as you did your homework and he attended to school council business. Or how that one night you crawled onto his desk and stole a kiss from him while he was busy sorting through papers, and how that same night he took and claimed you as his own in his bed.

Lucifer is snapped out of his thoughts as he hears a tapping on the window behind him. He turns around and sees a single crow outside, perched on a branch of the dead tree that sits outside his study. The crow is wearing a small chain necklace with a single sapphire on it, showing that this is Lucifer’s personal crow. The bird was a gift from Lord Diavolo.

Lucifer folds up his note and pours some hot wax from one of the candles on his desk onto the paper. Putting the candle down and opening one of his drawers, he pulls out a stamp with the pride sigil. Lucifer stamps the wax, sealing the letter and officially signing it by the Avatar of Pride. Lucifer stands up from his chair and opens the window. He hands the letter to the crow. “Take this to the Demon Lord’s Castle, for Lord Diavolo’s eyes only,” he orders the crow.

The bird lets out a muffled caw with the letter in its mouth and immediately takes flight towards the direction of the Castle. It is difficult to follow the bird as it practically blends into the eternal night sky of the Devildom. Lucifer lets out another sigh and closes the window in his study. He tidies up his desk and leaves for his own bedroom. His day was long and the hour was late; Lucifer was ready for today to just end.

The next day, Satan awakens before anyone else and heads down to the kitchen to prepare making breakfast; it's his turn to be on cooking duty. He yawns and stretches his limbs as he walks down the stairwell, popping a few joints as he does so. But he’s rudely greeted by Mammon by smacking into the poor second-born, who remains suspended from the ceiling. Mammon’s face is completely red as all of his blood now resides in his head.

“Do I even want to ask what you tried to do this time?” Satan asks in a tired and unamused voice. Dealing with his brothers was already hard enough, but dealing with Mammon so early in the morning without coffee might as well be impossible.

“Please… Please get me down,” Mammon groans. His hoarse voice makes it obvious that he hasn’t slept all night.

Satan lets out an exhausted sigh and walks over to the knot Lucifer had tied onto the stairs to keep Mammon suspended. Lucifer’s knots were always hell to take care of. After several minutes of untying, tugging, and clawing at the rope, the knot finally comes undone and Mammon falls onto the floor with a screech.

“Gah!” Mammon groans as his body collides with the cold ground, again.

Satan looms over his older brother, disappointment obvious on his face. “Did Lucifer see your credit card bills again?”

“No…” Mammon groans unmoving. The feeling of all of his blood rushing out of his head and back into his limbs is not very pleasant.

Satan sighs again and moves some of his messy blonde locks out of his eyes. “Come to the kitchen when you’re not a ragdoll. You’re going to help me cook breakfast in exchange for helping you get down.”

Mammon lets out an ‘mm’ sound of acknowledgement as Satan walks into the kitchen. He grabs a few slices of bread and puts them in the toaster. Next he prepares a pot of coffee by inserting the appropriate measures of water and ground coffee beans into the machine. He then grabbed some hellfire newt eggs and a variety of vegetables and fruit from the fridge. Surprisingly, the fridge is completely stocked, meaning Beel didn’t raid it last night for his usual midnight snack. The thought alone makes Satan sigh as he washes the fruit and vegetables. He understands why Beel hadn't had his usual appetite, but that doesn't calm Satan's nerves or make him happy about the current situation they find themselves in.

Everybody was worried about you. The first thing Satan did when he woke up this morning was check his D.D.D., and there were still no message from you. Satan had to stop himself from crushing his D.D.D. out of frustration and pain. So instead of focusing on your silence, Satan tried to focus on chopping the vegetables he had washed; but it was no use. He tries to at least focus on happier times rather than the current distress; such as when you helped him and Lucifer during the body swap incident. How the two of you formed a pact and quickly a relationship after the incident. When you would come to his room late at night when you couldn’t sleep, and how the two of you would curl up in his warm bed and he would read to you whatever book he was currently reading. And how some of those nights when you came to visit him instead turned out to be like a scene from one of his more erotic-like books.

“Ouch! Shit!” Satan curses as he accidentally cuts his finger with the knife.

He had gotten so distracted that he hadn’t noticed that he had already chopped the screaming tomato and ended up cutting himself while he was lost in his thoughts. With an agitated growl, Satan cleans the now bloody knife and then his cut. He wraps the injured part of his hand in a paper towel and finishes chopping the rest of the vegetables.

“What do ya need help with?” Mammon asks as he strides into the kitchen, his face much less red now.

The first batch of toast pops out of the toaster and the coffee pot finally dings. “Please just put more bread in the toaster and get me a cup of coffee,” Satan quietly says, applying pressure with the paper towel on his wound.

Mammon does what is asked of him, but can’t help but notice Satan’s wound. “Ya alright?” He asks as he prepares the Avatar of Wrath a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just let myself get… distracted,” Satan mumbles.

Mammon places the full and steaming cup of coffee close to Satan by the cutting board. “Ya were thinkin’ about MC, weren’t ya?”

Satan doesn’t answer at first. “Yeah,” is all he says as he grabs his cup of coffee.

Mammon puts the toast on a plate and puts more slices of bread into the toaster. He sighs, unable to look at his younger brother. “I… I snuck out last night.”

Satan scoffs into his coffee cup as he brings it to his lips. He takes a long and languid sip. “That isn’t surprising.”

“I tried to get into the Castle.”

“Have you not learned your lesson about stealing from the Castle yet? Do you ever learn, Mammon? What an idiot,” Satan scolds his brother. He places his cup down, and wraps a fresh paper towel around his finger so he can resume prepping vegetables and fruit.

Mammon grips onto the counter he’s leaning on and grits his teeth. He’s trying to control his anger and shame before Satan can detect it and feed off of his wrath. “I wasn’t trying to steal anythin’!” He accidentally shouts. He can see Satan whip his head in his direction in his peripheral vision. “I was trying to get to the portal,” Mammon whispers, his shoulders starting to deflate in defeat.

“The portal to the Human World…?” Satan asks.

Mammon averts his eyes to stare at the floor and nods. The kitchen is silent for a moment, only for the silence to be interrupted by the second round of toast popping up out of the toaster. Mammon takes the toast and puts it on the plate with the others as he adds more bread.

The two brothers don’t talk to each other while they cook and set the table. Mammon is too busy drowning in his guilt and shame while Satan is trying to process the entire situation. Once the table is set with fresh coffee, several pieces of toast, fresh fruit, and scrambled eggs with vegetables, do the rest of the brothers finally come to the dining room to eat. Unsurprisingly, Lucifer is the only one ready for the day ahead, as he’s already dressed in his RAD uniform.

Everyone silently makes their plates, but barely anyone touches the food - not even Beel. No one mentions your empty chair, which suddenly has a looming and depressing presence that it didn’t previously have.

“Has anyone heard from MC yet?” Asmo asks, turning over a shadow grape with his fork.

Asmo's only answer from his brothers is more silence. The Avatar of Lust sinks into his chair with a miserable look on his face and continues to push the food around on his plate.

Lucifer looks at his brothers as he takes a sip of his coffee. He sighs as he places his cup back down. He holds his head up and addresses his brothers. “I sent a note to Lord Diavolo about the situation.”

All eyes are swiftly upon the Avatar of Pride at his sudden statement. “Has Diavolo said anything yet?” Beel asks, with no food in his mouth, surprisingly.

Lucifer sighs and shakes his head. “I only sent it last night, Lord Diavolo probably hasn’t even seen it yet. So, no, not yet.”

Once again, all of his brothers start sulking and playing with their food. Lucifer can hear Mammon mumble something about taking matters into his own hands. That makes Lucifer grip onto the handle of his coffee cup tighter. He loudly clears his throat to address the table once more.

“And before anyone gets any smart ideas,” he says in a low tone, sparing a glance at Mammon. “Absolutely no one is allowed - under any circumstances - to attempt to use the portal in the Demon Lord’s Castle. All of you are to remain here until we hear something back from Lord Diavolo.”

Belphegor hisses at Lucifer and abruptly stands up from the table and leaves; he’s taken more than enough orders from Lucifer, and he’s sick of being holed up by the eldest. But even more so, he hates being away from you and being denied the possibility of getting to you. Beelzebub quickly stands up and follows after his twin, but not before grabbing his and Belphie’s breakfast plates to take with him.

Levi looks at Mammon with a shocked expression. “You mean, you actually tried to…?” His question trails off, but everyone knows what he’s asking, ‘you actually tried to break into the Castle to get to MC?’

Mammon lowers his gaze and glares daggers at his plate. He shouldn’t be here; he should be in the Human World looking for you right now! His mere presence in the Devildom is just a reminder that he has failed. Without looking at Leviathan he gives a curt nod. Asmo, Levi, and Satan exchange bewildered glances between each other but say nothing.

Lucifer sighs once again and shovels some eggs into his mouth. Satan did a good job this morning, the food is delicious. But his mouth is dry and he can’t properly register what he’s tasting with all of the stress he’s under. His student council responsibilities were already demanding enough, but now with your safety being uncertain, the daily stress Lucifer endures has become nearly bone crushing. But he doesn’t need to show his vulnerability to his brothers. No, he just needs to finish his normal duties and hope that Diavolo will get back to him soon with the response they all want to hear.

For the rest of breakfast, no one says anything or looks at each other. A few of the brothers manage to take a few bites of their food, but there are a lot of leftovers left on the table and their plates. Normally there would be no food left by now, namely thanks to Beel. But nobody had an appetite this morning; not with all of this nervous energy flowing through the House.

Satan starts taking plates and trays of food back to the kitchen to be put away and cleaned while Levi helps him. Asmo and Mammon return to their respective rooms to do whatever last minute preparations they need to do for RAD, while Lucifer walks up the stairwell to the twins’ room. He’s about to knock on the door when he can hear Belphie’s voice through the door.

“This isn’t right, Beel! Something is wrong and Lucifer isn’t letting us do anything about it!”

There’s a long pause before Beelzebub responds. “I know. I know it’s frustrating, Belphie. I want to do something too. But we can’t interfere with things going on in the Human World. MC will get back to us when she is ready, so don’t worry.”

“What if she is dead, Beelzebub!? What then!?”

“Solomon wouldn’t let that happen.” Beel’s voice sounds strong and firm as he says this, but Lucifer can detect the quiet quiver of hesitation in Beel’s voice; and if he can detect it, then Belphie definitely knows as well.

“Solomon isn’t always around, we know this! I can’t possibly understand how Lucifer is just okay locking us in the House when there’s an obvious disaster to be dealt with!”

There’s another long pause from Beel, this one being longer than the previous. “I’m certain Lucifer has his reasons, Belphie. He cares about her too.”

“But–” Lucifer knocks on the door to announce his presence, cutting off whatever Belphie was going to say; Lucifer doesn’t want to hear anything more.

There’s a pause of silence before a soft shuffling can be heard. Soon, Beelzebub answers the door with Belphie somehow both seething and sulking on his bed at the same time. Lucifer pretends like he didn’t hear anything at all and does what he came here to do.

“Finish doing whatever you need to prepare for your classes, no one is allowed to skip today.”

“You mean we’re just supposed to go to class like nothing is wrong!?” Belphie shouts, jumping onto his feet.

“Belphie…” Beel tries to reason, looking over at his twin with a soft gaze.

“Nothing is wrong,” Lucifer replies, but the words taste bitter and heavy in his mouth, like his sixth sense knows something is wrong and that he’s blatantly lying.

A terrible growl rips itself out of Belphie’s throat as he bares his teeth that have now become fangs. HIs curled horns start to poke out of his hair and a tail starts to emerge and swish behind the seventh-born as a cow-like pattern starts to appear on his clothes.

“Don’t do something you’ll regret, Belphegor,” Lucifer warns.

“Come on, Belphie, we can discuss this another time,” Beel quietly pleads as he picks up Belphegor over his shoulder and carries him up the stairs of their room and out of Lucifer’s sight.

Lucifer sighs and pinches his brow; as long as they get ready and get too RAD on time he doesn’t really care. He leaves the twins’ room and closes the door behind him. He walks back down the stairs and meets up with Mammon and Asmo in the entrance hall.

“Where’s Leviathan?” Lucifer asks, straightening the RAD medal on his school uniform.

“He’s already gone on ahead,” Asmo answers with zero charm or wit in his voice.

The fifth-born’s hair is disheveled and his eyes seem empty, as if they’ve lost that sparkle that makes Asmo the Avatar of Lust. His lack of make-up and perfume makes him look dull and used up, as if he wasn’t one of the seven deadly sins, but rather just a plain lesser demon.

Lucifer says nothing at the lack of self-care from his brother and just gives an acknowledging ‘hmm.’ “Come on, let’s get going. We’ll be late otherwise.”

“What about the twins?” Mammon asks.

“They’ll catch up, eventually,” Lucifer sighs as they leave the House of Lamentation.

Little do they know that Levi actually wasn’t on his way to RAD; he wasn’t even in his uniform. Instead, the third-born was slinking through the shadows of the Devildom, like he’s seen the heroes in his anime do so many times. Levi’s destination was one of the rivers that leads straight to the pool of water behind the Demon Lord’s Castle. The rivers’ starting point was the vast and deep pool of water that resided behind the Castle, which led to the forming of several different streams and rivers through the cities and towns of the Devildom. Levi didn’t know where the end of this particular stream would take someone - he never bothered to follow it to wherever it goes - but he knows if he swims upstream he can get onto Castle grounds.

Levi takes several alleyways and backroads to avoid being spotted and recognized; last thing he needs was some lesser demon to call him out to Lucifer for not being at RAD. Once Levi finds a stream that separates the Devildom from one of its many forests, he transforms into his demon form. Levi dives head first into the water and starts swimming upstream.

With his demonic powers and being part sea monster, Levi possesses powers that nobody else has. Such as the purple jewels on his neck allowing him to breathe underwater, his orange eyes also allowing him to see in the dark depths. His demon form’s clothes are waterproof, so they don’t drag him down when he’s swimming or drip with water when he emerges onto land. And the best part was his tail, which allowed him to swim long distances swiftly without getting tired.

In just a few short minutes, the bed of the river gives out to a giant chasm, and the narrow river turns into a large pool of water; he’s reached his destination. Levi pokes his head out of the water and sure enough, he’s exactly where he wants to be. And no guards are posted here - even better! Levi silently swims up to the grass and crawls out of the water. Using his enhanced vision in his demon form, Levi is easily able to sneak into the Castle. But now he has no idea where he needs to go.

“You can do this, Levi,” he quietly mutters to himself to not lose his confidence.

Almost like a serpent, Levi practically slithers through the shadows of the Castle, staying close to the ground; but every single room he manages to sneak into is not the portal room. Knowing the importance of the portal, it could very well be hidden behind some secret entrance like a moving bookshelf or hidden by a painting or statue.

All that Levi knows is that he cannot fail, not like Mammon did. But of course, Mammon would screw it up, it’s Mammon! Levi has to find the portal and get to you. Because if he doesn’t, who will? Despite his fear and anxiety, the thought of being your knight in shining armor motivates the Avatar of Envy to keep searching. He can see it now; Levi finding you somewhere hidden in the Human World and rescuing bravely from your captors. How you’d swoon for him and compliment him as he carried you in his arms back to the safety of the Devildom. How he - the nasty and disgusting shut-in of an otaku - was able to save the most valuable thing in he and his brother’s lives.

Levi vividly remembers how you cornered him into a pact, but he eventually grew to love the special connection he had with you, and how it made him feel closer to you. After all, he was your second demon under a pact. There were also the school nights when the two of you would stay up all night reading manga or binge watching a new anime series, or attempting to speedrun through one of Levi's video games. Sometimes Lucifer caught the two of you staying up far too late in Levi's room, but that never stopped you from always sneaking back in once Lucifer had left. Oh, but there were also those nights where you tried to stay awake but sleep would eventually get the better of you. In your groggy state, you’d curl up next to Levi and fall asleep on his shoulder. Levi would always panic at first, but he eventually learned to cool his nerves and greatly appreciate these moments. He eventually grew comfortable enough around you to start showing some skin, where some times, one thing would lead to another, and before you know it, the both of you are lying naked in his bathtub. Levi was so embarrassed and ashamed at first, but after being comforted by you, he wished he had taken more opportunities to be intimate with you before you returned to the Human World.

He wishes for those opportunities even more so now that something might have happened to you. How Levi wishes he could just rewind time and relive those memories and make new ones with you. If only he had such powers, maybe then he could have prevented all of this from happening in the first place.

Levi crawls through the shadows of another hallway trying to stick as close to the walls as possible, before a heavy boot suddenly comes down on his back, pinning him to the ground.

“Oomph!” Levi lets out as all the air is pushed out of his lungs.

“Hello, Leviathan,” a familiar voice greets him. Levi doesn’t even have to look up to know he’s been apprehended by Barbatos. “Would you like to explain why you’re here without the Young Master’s knowing?”

“N-No, thank you,” he stutters quietly, willing his nerves not to get the best of him.

Levi's demon form slowly disappears out of fear and embarrassment. Barbatos helps the third-born to his feet and escorts him to the front of the Castle.

“Did you forget that your horns have a slight glow to them, Leviathan? I may have not seen you otherwise,” Barbatos explains. But Levi knows damn well the butler would have seen him anyway and is just saying that to try and make him feel better.

Levi stares at the floor as Barbatos takes him to the front of the Castle. What happens next? Is Barbatos going to tell Lucifer about him sneaking around the Castle? Will Lucifer hang him up from the ceiling just like he did with Mammon? Or worse; what if Lucifer takes away all of his games, manga, and anime for a whole month!?

“Has something happened at the House of Lamentation?” Barbatos asks, snapping Levi out of his thoughts. “Mammon tried to sneak in yesterday, and now, so have you. I originally thought Mammon was just trying to get into the Castle’s treasury, but now I’m not so sure. Care to explain?”

“I-I can’t,” The otaku stutters. If Barbatos doesn’t know why two of the seven brothers have snuck into the Castle, then chances are that Diavolo still isn’t aware of Lucifer’s letter. And Levi is not going to be the one to bring up this matter to demon royalty.

“Why can’t you?” Barbatos asks.

“Lucifer might actually kill me.”

Barbatos gives Levi an unreadable look before returning his eyes to the road ahead of them. Levi already knows he’s getting taken to the House of Lamentation by the direction they’re going. Levi wasn’t wearing his RAD uniform, and he couldn’t go to RAD without it, so of course there was no other choice but to go to the House first. He was already going to get into a lot of trouble with Lucifer for being late to his classes, but being late and not properly dressed? Levi might as well just hide in the river and never emerge.

Once Barbatos has taken Leviathan back to the House of Lamentation, and makes sure the Avatar of Envy goes inside instead of slinking away, does Barbatos return to the Castle. He makes a mental note to ask Lord Diavolo about the brothers’ odd behavior as of late, and if Lucifer has said anything to the Young Master about their sudden recklessness.

That night after RAD, Leviathan is hung upside down in the stairwell by Lucifer without having any dinner.

Chapter Text

The next morning has rolled around and there is still no word from you. This is day four since your text about going out with friends, and your continued silence snaps a nerve inside Satan.

When the Avatar of Wrath does not show up for breakfast, Lucifer goes up to his room to check on him. Lucifer knocks once, twice, but there is no response from inside. It was unlike Satan to sleep in.

“Satan, it’s me, I’m coming in,” Lucifer warns as he opens the door.

The first thing a person notices when walking into Satan’s room is his absolute plethora of books that are stacked into shelves and anything with a flat surface. You’ll also notice how some are scattered on the floor, some are open, and some have several bookmarks, dog tags, and brightly colored paper tags in them. It’s also hard to ignore that a few books float through the air like wanna-be birds.

But despite the absolute clutter of the room, Lucifer immediately notices the lack of Satan in his bed and his large window being wide open; the curtains fluttering softly against the cool Devildom breeze.

“Damn it, Satan,” Lucifer swears as he returns to the dining room. He’ll be dealing with his brother soon enough.

In the market streets, lesser demons are mowed down by a great green ball of wrath, as Satan charges his way by force to the Demon Lord’s Castle. His demon form is out and open for everyone to see as he pushes and shoves demons out of his way. Anyone who tries to yell at him or start a fight gets smacked by his armored tail. If Lucifer refuses to do anything about your disappearance, and his brothers are too useless to take care of this themselves, then Satan himself will do it!

Satan breaks through the gate of the Demon Lord’s Castle, leaving a gaping and twisted hole in his wake. Several guards and knights try to apprehend him, but they cannot stop the Avatar of Wrath. Satan’s eyes glow a dangerous green as he flings off and throws anyone that gets too close to him. Guards and knights are sent flying into the gardens, the gate, the Castle walls, and windows.

Satan smashes through the front doors leaving splinters of wood scattered in the entrance hall. Satan stands in the grand entryway, his breath heavy and labored. His tail thrashes about wildly and his anger still courses through him like blood.

“DIAVOLOOOOOO!” Satan shouts at the top of his lungs, his own voice echoing through the golden hallways of the Castle. “I know you’re in here, Diavolo! Where are you!?”

Satan is about to smash a fancy looking vase out of pure rage when his ears register the clicking of heels against the marble floors. He looks up and meets eyes with Barbatos, who seems as calm and collected as could be.

“You called, Satan?” Barbatos asks coolly.

“It is not you I have summoned, Barbatos. I know damn well that Diavolo is here! Where is he!?”

“The Young Master is giving an assembly speech at RAD today. You should have known that, Satan, being a member of the student council.”

Satan can’t deny that Barbatos is right. He’s actually known about this supposedly important assembly for about a week now. If he had kept his cool and didn’t go on a rampage, he might have actually remembered this important detail. But he didn’t, and his wrath is practically eating and consuming at him like a flame. Satan came here for answers, not belittlement, and he is not leaving without them!

Satan and Barbatos have an intense stand-off, neither of them willing to turn their back or shy away from the other demon. Satan takes a fighting stance with his fangs bared like a beast, while Barbatos keeps his cool composure and posture, yet the butler’s eyes are full of intense power. Infernal magic begins to reverberate through the large chamber, causing a vibration in the chamber. The room seemed to get colder in Barbatos’ presence as the lighting in the chamber turned green in Satan’s presence.

“Why are you here, Satan? What if Lucifer heard about this?” Barbatos asks, with a particular chill in his voice.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what Lucifer thinks,” Satan snarls. “And it’s my own damn business why I’m here.”

Barbatos lightly scoffs at him. “You are intruding, Satan. You damage the Castle’s property, beat up the Young Master’s security, and you refuse to tell me why you’re even here or the reason for your temper,” Barbatos’ tone is ice cold. Satan can see a green tail emerge from Barbatos’ backside; a warning. Satan knows he could never win in a fight against Barbatos; if Satan wants to get what he came for, he needs to keep his anger in check and play fair.

Satan closes his lips, hiding his fangs, and takes a more neutral stance. He attempts to pull back some of his Infernal magic, which makes the lighting in the chamber return to its golden color, and quieting some off the buzzing. “I’m here to find the portal to the Human World,” Satan confesses, trying his hardest to keep a snarl out of his voice.

Barbatos cocks one of his eyebrows. “Now why would you be looking for that?”

“You mean, Lucifer hadn’t told you or Lord Diavolo yet? Did he even write a letter?” Satan asks, having to bite his tongue to avoid shouting his second question in frustration.

Barbatos ponders for a moment to himself of what Satan has told him, but his facial expression remains unreadable. Finally, Barbatos pulls back his own Infernal magic. The buzzing in the chamber completely disappears and the temperature slowly rises back to room temperature.

“What are you talking about?” Barbatos questions.

Satan holds back a hiss of disgust. This was an emergency, and the Castle didn’t even know about it!?

“Something happened to MC, or at least, that’s what we think. She’s gone completely silent to me and my brothers; no phone calls, no text messages, nothing. Lucifer said he wrote a letter addressed to Lord Diavolo concerning the matter.”

Barbatos is as still as a statue, but if one looked very closely, they could see his eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. “Is this why you and your brothers have been attempting to break into the Castle?” He asks in a quiet tone. Satan nods.

Barbatos looks down at the floor, but his shoulders do not sag. He stays there for a moment before finally looking at Satan once again. “Come with me.”

Barbatos turns heel and starts walking down one of the Castle’s many golden hallways. Satan jogs to catch up with Barbatos as the two silently walk down the winding hallways. Little D.’s of various sins are seen cleaning various parts of the Castle with varying degrees of success as the two demons walk. But once they’re eyes fall onto Barbatos, they are quick to shape up and resume their work to a professional degree.

Barbatos takes Satan to a large set of wooden double doors with gold accents, hinges, and door handles. Satan’s hope starts to rise as they approach the doors. This must be where the portal is! But his hopes are quickly dashed as Barbatos opens the door to reveal that it’s only Diavolo’s study. Satan chides himself internally, he should have known better. He should have known that Barbatos would never take anyone, possibly not even Lucifer, to the portal without Diavolo’s knowing and agreement.

Barbatos turns on the lights and walks up to Diavolo’s desk, which balances small mountains of various papers. Barbatos rummages through some of the papers with practiced precision before finally letting out a small hum of success as he holds up a particular piece of paper. Satan walks up to Barbatos and takes a closer look at the letter; it is sealed in wax with the sigil of pride - Lucifer’s sigil.

Satan feels a small bud of guilt growing in his stomach, but he quashes it before he can fully register his feelings. He should have known Lucifer would have at least tried to do something, he cared about you too, even if he didn’t show it off like some of the other brothers.

Barbatos attempts to break the wax seal, but it doesn’t budge. He tries again, but the wax doesn’t even crack.

“Lucifer might have jinxed the letter,” Barbatos says plainly as he uses his Infernal magic to light a nearby candle.

“Why would he do that?” Satan asks as he watches Barbatos attempt to melt the wax off the letter using the candle, but the wax remains unaffected.

“Because whatever he wrote, he wants it to be for Lord Diavolo’s eyes only,” Barbatos explains, placing the letter in front of where Diavolo sits, so it will be the first thing he sees upon his return. “I’m sorry, Satan. Though I do not doubt what you are saying about the situation and Lucifer’s letter is true, I still cannot take you to the portal.”

Satan feels his blood boil as anger twists in his stomach. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows he’ll regret it if he starts something violent with Barbatos, but he can’t help himself. He gives in to his sin.

“Yes, you can! You know damn well you can take me to the portal! MC could be fighting for her life right now! And you can’t care enough for five minutes to send someone - ANYONE - to go and check on her!?”

Barbatos lets out an annoyed sigh. “Satan, it is not that easy–”

“YES, IT IS!”

Satan lunges at Barbatos with an intense and angry ferocity. Before his claws can sink into the butler’s shoulders, all of Satan’s muscles tightly tense up and freeze as he remains suspended, stuck in the air, only an inch away from Barbatos. Satan’s hands are outstretched and his claws are ready to tear, his mouth wide open in a stuck scream, his face stuck in an angry scowl, yet he cannot move anything as Barbatos has paralyzed him.

“I’m sorry, Satan, but you made me do this. You’ll be staying in the Castle’s dungeons until Lucifer comes to retrieve you.”

Barbatos extinguishes the candle’s flame with a wave of his hand and exits the study with Satan floating behind him thanks to the butler’s levitation powers.

Satan wants to scream, to bite, to scratch, to cause mayhem; but he can’t. His muscles scream in agony as they are forced to remain tense and contracted. Barbatos carries the frozen Avatar in the air as he approaches a solid, stone door. Barbatos sends two magical wisps into the keyhole, which unlocks the door. Barbatos then starts walking down the long, stone stairwell, softly humming to himself, as Satan floats behind him helplessly.

Satan's eyes glow such a bright and angry green that they glow in the dark depths of the dungeons. He was so close, so fucking close! He got farther than his brothers, yet still he was stopped! Even when Barbatos knew of the dire situation, he did nothing! How could he!? How could he be so cold and heartless!? How could he not care!?

Is what Satan wants to scream as he is gently placed in a cold and damp cell. Barbatos closes his cell door, locks it with his magical wisps, and places some kind of enchantment on the iron-bar door. Satan’s muscles finally relax as Barbatos releases him from his magical grip. The demon butler then turns his back to the now imprisoned Avatar and starts to walk out of the dungeons. Satan feels immediate relief, yet also waves of aches and pains from his overused muscles, but not even his exhausted muscles can drown out his rage.

“YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS, BARBATOS!” Satan screams as he grips the bars of his cell, Barbatos’ magic making it impossible to break or even dent the bars. “YOU’LL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR ANYTHING THAT HAPPENS TO MC DUE TO YOUR IGNORANCE!”

Satan’s only response is the sound of the heavy stone door of the dungeons being slammed shut.

Satan grips the bars of his cell with all of his strength and tries to rip the door right off of its hinges. But the door remains firmly in place due to Barbatos' magic. Satan sinks his claws and teeth into the metal, but they bounce off the door with an odd sounding clang. Angry, Infernal magic swarms Satan’s cell, but even the Infernal energy cannot escape through the bars of the door. The crushing power of Satan’s own magic weighs heavy on him, draining his strength and energy. Satan falls onto his knees and lets out a mighty, monstrous roar that can be heard all throughout the Castle.

A few hours later, Lucifer delves into the depths of the dungeons with Barbatos, a very displeased look on his face. This is not what Lucifer wanted to be dealing with after RAD today. Has all of his brothers lost their minds? Lucifer hadn’t even had time to go back to the House to change out of his RAD uniform once he received the text from Barbatos about Satan being in the Castle’s dungeons. Out of all of his brothers, Lucifer expected so much better from Satan. Barbatos’ refusal to tell him why Satan went on a rampage through the Castle is not easing any of his budding frustration.

By the time they reach Satan’s cell, the Avatar of Wrath is finally out of his demon form and is sitting almost sulking-like in the corner, his back turned to the two demons. Lucifer knows damn well that Satan knows they are there, yet refuses to acknowledge the two older demons anyway.

Barbatos removes all of the magic from the cell door that was keeping Satan inside, and immediately Satan’s frustration can be felt as his Infernal magic reverberates past the cell bars. The magic is restless, angry, and hot. Lucifer lets out an annoyed and frustrated sigh; this was not the time nor the place for Satan to be acting like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

“Come on, Satan, we’re going home,” Lucifer chides, his stern voice echoing off the walls of the dungeons.

Satan curses in Infernal before standing to his feet and walking past Lucifer and Barbatos, pretending that they’re not even there. Lucifer grunts at his brother disapprovingly as he parts ways with Barbatos to catch up with Satan. Satan refuses to meet Lucifer’s eyes as they exit the Castle, the two gaping holes Satan left in the front entrance and the front gates still very apparent. This was going to be very, very expensive to fix.

Once far enough from the Castle where no one important can hear them, Lucifer interrogates the fourth-born. “What in the devil has gotten into you!? Into all of you!?” He chastises. Despite the anger and seriousness in Lucifer’s voice, his volume is kept at a very reasonable level.

“If you won’t do something to protect MC, then we will!” Satan snarls, finally meeting his brother’s eyes.

“I am working on it,” Lucifer growls. His eyes say what his words are not; back off, I know what I’m doing.

“Well you’re sure as hell not working on it hard enough,” Satan hisses, pushing back.

Normally, Lucifer is more composed than this, he is better than this - he is better than arguing with his brothers. But after all of the stress and anxiety this week has brought onto him so far has made the first-born lose his patience. Lucifer knocks Satan in the back of the head so hard that the Avatar of Wrath is rendered unconscious before he even hits the ground. Lucifer at least has the sense to carry his brother home rather than leave him in the streets to rot.

When Satan regains his consciousness, he is suspended in the stairwell upside down, with several layers of rope around his mouth to prevent him from screaming.

It’s day five, and still there is nothing. No calls, no texts, no anything. What has to be the worst part, is that all of the brothers' texts remain unopened and unread. How much longer can the brothers be expected to remain dormant and obedient?

That morning, Lucifer takes Satan down from the ceiling in the stairwell. The fourth-born hisses at the eldest and retreats to his room. At least Levi was nicer about it when he took the third-born down the previous day.

But what really sours Lucifer’s mood, is that he’s the only one who sits at the dining table for breakfast. Though it’s obvious Beel has already eaten breakfast as nothing remains in the fridge. That would probably be Levi's excuse for not cooking breakfast this morning despite being on breakfast duty; even though that excuse has never worked in the past before. Not that it really matters though, as the Avatar of Envy is nowhere to be seen.

Lucifer doesn’t know if his brothers are ignoring him out of fear, anger, frustration, or whatever possible emotions they might be feeling, but he doesn’t appreciate it. But at the same time, he understands their bitter emotions. As the eldest, it is his responsibility to make sure everything goes smoothly, and that things are supposed to go how they should. And it seems everything this week has blown up in his face and caused his brothers to rebel against him. If only they understood that he too wants to go to the Human World to find you. He has that urge just as intensely as the others. The only difference is that he is old and mature enough to control himself. But that doesn’t stop his mind from wondering what if he just went to the Human World without waiting for Diavolo’s approval. Or worse, just doing it even if Diavolo disapproved.

Lucifer takes a sip of his now cold coffee as he plays with what little food remains on his plate. He ushers the thoughts of possibly betraying Diavolo out of his head; he does not want to think about that, especially right now with everything that’s already going on. So instead, he focuses his mind and his frustrations on all of the empty chairs surrounding the table. Is the absence of his brothers another planned act of rebelling? Whatever. They can go hungry if they so choose. Lucifer has many responsibilities, but looking after his brothers like they are helpless children is not one of them.

Lucifer cleans up his spot at the table, along with his dishes, before making the walk over to RAD. If he finds out his brothers skipped class today as well, there will be hell to pay.

Lucifer’s steadily increasing frustration is interrupted as he hears a caw overhead. A crow flies down onto a nearby tree branch and meets him at eye level. The crow is wearing a small, silver chain necklace around its neck with several iridescent diamonds hanging from it; this is Diavolo’s crow. It holds a letter in its beak; the letter is sealed with red wax with Diavolo’s sigil imprinted on it. Lucifer graciously accepts the letter before the crow flies off back towards the Castle. Lucifer breaks off the wax with his thumb and opens the letter to read it.

Meanwhile, at the Demon Lord’s Castle, Asmodeus is chatting it up with one of the knights that guards the front gate. The hole Satan had put in the gate the previous day was still being worked on and repaired. Broken and jagged steel bars were being removed or straightened out and tampered to be fixed or replaced. Asmo was on top of the gate, his body weaved in between the sharp, point-tipped bars at the top that were there to prevent demons from scaling the gate. It most definitely was not the most comfortable position Asmo could have put himself in, but with the moon against his back silhouetting his body, wings, and horns, which brought out his honey and pink colored eyes; well, sometimes you have to be in a little bit of pain to look this breathtaking.

“Please don’t make me ask again, hon,” Asmo coos, batting his eyelashes at the guard. “Won’t you please take me to the portal to the Human World?”

Asmo could tell as soon as he saw this particular guard, that he was a rookie. His shoulders were slouched, the way he held his spear was sloppy, his footsteps were very audible, and his helmet didn’t fit him quite right; he was a perfect candidate to charm. And charmed he was by the way his knees shook, or how his golden armor let out audible clanging sounds as metal kissed against metal from his shaking. If this guard wasn't gay before, he’s definitely gay now.

“I c-can’t do that, s-sir,” the guard stutters quietly. Though Asmodeus can’t see the guard’s facial expression under his helmet, Asmo just knows he’s blushing and sweating under his heavy helm. Asmodeus knows it, he can sense the slowly growing presence of lust in the demon before him.

“Sure you can, hon! I’ll make it worth your while~” Asmo unweaves his torso from the point-tipped bars of the gate and slowly slides down the bars of the steel fence. His arms reach down and wrap themselves around the shoulders of the guard. Asmo supports himself by holding onto the bars with his still weaved legs as his upper body is supported by the guard he’s trying to seduce. Asmo’s bat-like wings flap gently to keep himself steady.

The guard before Asmo is shaking like a leaf. “B-But I can’t! Besides, I-I don’t even know where the portal is!”

”Well, surely you would know someone who does,” Asmo slowly creeps his hands into the neck hole of the guard’s breastplate. The guard jumps and shudders under the Avatar of Lust’s touch. “You wouldn’t want to deny me now, would you?”

Asmo’s normally honey-colored eyes with pink flecks turn completely pink as he uses his magic to charm the guard. Having already lowered the guard’s defenses with his suggestive words, movements, and actions, the poor young demon is very easy to charm. Almost immediately, the guard melts in Asmo’s arms. The guard slowly and lazily starts to nod his head.

“Yes, the commander would know,” the guard says with a slight slur in his words, almost as if he had too much demonus.

Asmo grins widely at the guard. “Perfect. Take me to him.”

Asmo unweaves his legs from the gate’s pointed-tipped bars and releases his grip from the guard to slide down the fence. In an elegant fashion that is very Asmo-like, the Avatar of Lust gets on his feet and slowly stretches upwards, showing off the strong yet lean muscles in his legs, arms, and wings. He gives a little wink to the guard for good measure as he relaxes his muscles, his eyes still pink with Infernal magic.

Getting into the Castle was ridiculously easy. With a guard escorting Asmo, it made it look like to the other guards that he was supposed to be here. No one stopped or questioned the two demons as they walked into the foyer of the Castle. Asmo’s charmed guard takes him down one of the many Castle’s hallways, where they nearly bump into Barbatos carrying a tea tray with a full tea pot, saucer, tea cup, stirring spoon, and a selection of add-ins like milk, honey, lemon, and a small bowl of sugar cubes.

“Oops! Sorry about that, Barbatos!” Asmo apologizes, trying not to look the ancient demon in the eyes. If Barbatos catches him using his powers the butler will know something is suspicious.

Barbatos chuckles lightly, but there’s something hiding behind his voice. Something like slight aggression or annoyance. “Need not worry, Asmodeus. It happens. What brings you to the Demon Lord’s Castle this morning? Why are you not at RAD?”

“We are on our way to see the commander,” the guard suddenly blurts. Asmo whips his head around and glares daggers at the guard, but the guard doesn’t react.

Barbatos cocks his head to the side. “The commander of the guards? What need would you have to see him, Asmodeus?”

“Oh, uh…” Asmo freezes, he really did not think he would fall into the same trap as his brothers; running into Barbatos.

With all of his muster and power, Asmo locks eyes with the demon butler. Infernal magic vibrates through the air as Asmo calls forth all of his magic to charm Barbatos. The hallway becomes comfortably warm, and the lights’ shade turns into a light and colorful pink. Asmo’s eyes are like swirling pools of pink, his magic rippling through his eyes, showing just how powerful of a demon he is.

Barbatos seems to visibly relax and step aside for the two demons before him. “The commander’s office is just down this hallway. Enjoy your stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle,” says Barbatos in a calm voice. And with that, Barbatos walks off to wherever he was originally going, as if nothing had happened.

“Oh my… I actually did it!” Asmo cheers to himself in the hallway.

Of course, Asmo could charm just about anyone if he really wanted to. But he knew Barbatos was going to be difficult just because of how old and wise the butler is. But apparently, even Barbatos cannot resist the charm of the Avatar of Lust.

The Infernal magic dissolves away in the hallway as the lights turn back to their normal golden hue, and the temperature returns to normal. Asmo’s eyes fade back into their normal honey color, with only small flecks of pink swimming through his irises.

Asmo happily skips through the hall as his charmed guard takes him to the end of the hallway where they are met with a grand wooden door. However, the door is lacking a lot of gold and ornaments, especially when compared to the rest of the Castle. Apparently, the commander wasn’t the flashy type.

The guard walks up to the door and knocks in a percussive and organized fashion, like this was a secret code. The guard takes a step back as the doors silently open. The room inside is pitch black.

“The commander is inside. Thank you for visiting the Demon Lord’s Castle,” Asmo’s guard turns on his heel and marches back to his original position. Which was probably for the best anyways, Asmo stopped using his magic on the guard since the encounter with Barbatos, and Asmo did not need the guard to break out of his stupor and apprehend him.

Asmo walks into the dark office where the doors slam behind him with a loud bang. Asmo yelps at the sudden sound as he is plunged into complete darkness. Asmo runs at the door and digs his claws into the wood, trying to force the doors to open. But they don’t budge; he’s been trapped. Suddenly, Infernal magic sweeps through the air as all of the many candles in the room are lit in a sweeping motion. Sitting behind the desk in a large, cushioned chair is Barbatos, looking quite pleased and smug.

Asmo curses to himself as he stares at the smug look on the demon butler’s face. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to charm Barbatos on his own. If he had the borrowed power of Solomon or MC, he very likely could have succeeded. But right now, he just wasn’t strong enough on his own.

“Come take a seat, Asmodeus,” Barbatos says coolly, waving a hand at the plain wooden chair across the desk from the demon butler.

With a dramatic sigh, Asmo takes a reluctant seat across from Barbatos. If it were any other demon aside from Barbatos across Asmo, the atmosphere might have actually been pleasant.

There were no electrical lights in the commander’s office. Instead, the room was lit up by several candles on window sills, the desk, shelves, and a chandelier hanging overhead. There also happened to be a single, unlit oil lamp next to some weathered looking documents.

“This is about the portal, isn’t it?” Barbatos questions.

Asmo sighs again and averts his eyes. He holds his arms to himself by gripping his hands onto his elbows, as if he’s hugging himself. Now Barbatos is the one to sigh. The butler bends down in his chair and brings up the same tray of tea from before off the floor and onto the desk. Opening a small portal with a wave of his hand, Barbatos reaches in and pulls out an identical tea cup and saucer to the one already on the tray. Barbatos closes the portal and places the tea cup and saucer next to the original tea cup, then masterfully pours some tea into both cups. Barbatos hands Asmo a cup before serving himself.

“Feel free to add anything to your tea, if you so wish,” Barbatos says softly, pushing the tea tray with all of its contents a little closer to the fifth-born.

Asmo sighs, again, before picking up his tea and adding a generous serving of honey with a small squeeze of lemon. Asmo brings the cup to his lips and takes a small sip of the hot tea. Though the sweet and refreshing drink is nice on his tongue, it does not settle the growing ball of stress in his stomach.

“You know I can’t take you to the portal,” Barbatos continues to speak softly, taking a sip of his own tea.

“I know,” Is all Asmo says, but internally he’s screaming that technically, Barbatos could take him to the portal, but that strategy didn’t work all that well for Satan.

“I think it’s best you return to the House of Lamentation, Asmodeus. We don’t need to cause any trouble. And I think you should talk to Lucifer, as well.”

Asmo chuckles grimly into his cup as he takes another sip of tea. “And why should I do that?”

“Because Lord Diavolo has responded to Lucifer’s letter. It should have arrived by now.”

Asmo’s heart picks up before dropping back down to his stomach. There was a growing sense of jealousy and spite flowing through the fifth-born’s blood. Angry lines appeared on the Avatar of Lust’s perfect features, creasing his well taken care of skin. The thought of Lucifer being the first, and possibly only, one to get to you through the portal did not sit well with him. Asmo just knew for a fact that he was your favorite demon brother! And he was not going to let anyone else but him get to you first!

“I’m sorry, Barbatos, but I can’t do that,” Asmo nearly growls, roughly setting down his cup of tea. Soft Infernal magic begins to buzz through the room as Asmo’s fangs become a little sharper and his pink and green claws a little longer.

“And why is that?” Barbatos asks, gently setting his own cup of tea down.

“Because I love her!” Asmo screams, sitting up from his chair so fast that it falls back.

Barbatos sighs deeply and takes to his feet as well. He gently pushes the chair in behind him and lets his own demon form flare to life. “I’m sorry that things have to be this way,” Barbatos apologizes.

“I don’t believe you,” Asmo says in an almost light and delicate voice, that would have come off as gentle, were it not for the anger written all over his face and body language.

The way darkness and fury flashes through Barbatos’ usually cool eyes is actually terrifying. It never ended well for those that had the gall to defy Barbatos. The demon butler would make sure the Avatar of Lust would learn from this mistake.

Asmo knows damn well that he’s going to get his ass handed to him, and that the bruises and injuries he’s going to acquire are going to need some extra love and care if he hopes to look this beautiful after the fight. But he needs to remember, this is you he’s fighting for! Sweet, wonderful, and loving you. He’ll never forget when you first came to the Devildom and blessed all of them with your mere presence. You’d have never gotten Asmo to admit it at the time, but he was smitten at first sight. Every time you agreed to hang out, or go out with him, or have a study session with the fifth-born, it made his heart soar. Though, truth be told, there usually wasn’t a lot of studying during the study sessions.

Since the very beginning of your study sessions with Asmo, he always insisted on studying seductive speech craft with you for "the sake of your grades.” But really, the whole time it was just Asmo sharpening his silver tongue on you. Even though it was supposed to be you practicing your speech craft - because everyone knows Asmo doesn’t need the practice - you really didn’t mind. The fact that the Avatar of Lust was going out of his way to make you sway with his honeyed words was charming. And eventually, Asmo got his way after several ‘study’ sessions that were full of flirtation, suggestive body language, and a bunch of pillow talk. After a particular “study” session, Lucifer banned the two of you from ever ‘studying’ again with how loud the both of you were. In your defense, Asmo definitely earned his title of Avatar of Lust. Though sometimes, the two of you were able to find a time and place to study,’ be it in the House of Lamentation, Purgatory Hall, RAD, or the Castle itself.

“Please be wise about this, Asmodeus,” Barbatos warns, bringing the fifth-born back down into reality.

“I should have known, Barbatos,” Asmo starts, his tone almost mocking. “That I could have never been able to charm you on my own. I should have known you would have found a way to get what you wanted. But what you should know, is that I want to see my dove. And I won’t let you, or anyone else, stand in my way!”

Asmodeus lunges at Barbatos, painted claws outstretched and ready to tear. In a blink of an eye, Barbatos is gone, and Asmo is left diving headfirst into a rickety bookshelf. Asmo hits the shelf hard enough to break and crack some of the shelves, causing books to fall on top of him. One book even gets pierced onto his pointed horns. With a hiss, Asmo gets back on his feet and rips the book off of his horn. Barbatos is standing at the door, looking as professional as ever. His twin-tipped tail slithers behind him slowly.

“Please, Asmodeus, there’s no need to do this,” Barbatos tries to reason.

“If you won’t listen to us, then why should we listen to you?” Asmo asks, his voice a cold growl.

Barbatos sighs deeply. He’s far too old to be dealing with petty brawls. “If you refuse to reason with me, then I’ll give you just what you want; a fight.”

A pulse of Infernal magic suddenly swaths the room from Barbatos’ stance. The room temperature immediately drops substantially. The commander’s office is now so cold that Asmo can see his breath. The warm candle light turns turquoise, swathing the room in a cool color to meet the cold temperature. Books find a mind of their own and start to fly and twirl around the room in slow patterns. Asmo can feel Barbatos’ powerful Infernal magic thrumming in his chest, but he refuses to let his fear show, even though he knows he’s about to lose terribly. But Asmo is going to go down swinging.

“You know, Barbatos, maybe if you actually bothered to find someone instead of being Diavolo’s pet, maybe then you might understand why she’s so important to us.”

That gets a rouse out of the demon butler. Before Asmo’s brain can even register that the ancient demon has moved from his spot, the fifth-born is already pinned against the commander’s desk.

“You younger demons need to learn some respect,” Barbatos mutters in a cold, venomous voice.

Barbatos’ tail rises above his form, before crashing down its twin tips upon Asmodeus like a whip.

About an hour later, Lucifer gets a call on his D.D.D. The Avatar of Pride sighs as he puts some papers down that he was reading. Even when at RAD he can’t seem to escape distractions. Lucifer pulls out his D.D.D. from his pocket and checks the caller ID; it’s Barbatos. Great. Fantastic. Just what he needed today. Which brother was it this time?

“Hello?” Lucifer answers, trying to not let his frustration and disappointment evident in his tone.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Barbatos answers on the other end.

Lucifer pinches his eyebrows together and pinches his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Which one was it this time?”

“Asmodeus.”

Lucifer sighs deeply, not caring if Barbatos hears him or not. “Alright, I’ll be there to pick him up shortly.”

“Lucifer,” Barbatos calls out before the first-born can end the call. “Have you received the Young Master’s response yet?”

“Yes, I have.”

“And you haven’t told your brothers yet?”

“I was going to today once everyone was back at the House.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “I suggest you do it sooner rather than later. You might save us both some trouble.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” Lucifer says while rubbing his temples, trying to fight back an oncoming migraine.

A few hours later, after RAD, all of the brothers are gathered in the library. Asmo is beaten and bruised, his normally perfect skin covered in deep red gashes and ugly colored bruises. One of his eyes is black and his cheeks are puffy from the swelling. Demons heal quickly, but it would take a lot of time and make-up to cover up all of these imperfections. And it would take even longer for Asmo’s self-confidence to heal. At least Lucifer has spared him from his punishment for the time being so he could hear Lord Diavolo’s response with everyone else.

Lucifer holds up the letter to his brothers. “I’ve received a response from Lord Diavolo.”

Any small, idle chit chat that was going on amongst the brothers immediately ceases. Beel, who was eating a bowl of seasoned hellfire chips, stops chewing so he can hear Lucifer clearly.

Lucifer holds out the letter in front of him and sighs; he is not ready to deal with the aftermath this letter will bring. “Dear Lucifer, while I understand you and your brothers’ concerns for our dearest MC; at this moment in time, I cannot allow you - or anyone for that matter - entry to the Human World at this point in–”

“What!?” Mammon yells, jumping to his feet. Satan is quick to pull the Avatar of Greed back into his spot and keep his hand over his brother’s mouth to prevent any more interrupting outbursts.

Lucifer sighs deeply at his brother’s lack of self-control, but the agitation in his voice and on his face made it sound more like a growl. Lucifer clears his throat and returns to reading the letter. “I am certain this is news that you and your brothers are not too happy to hear about. But please understand that it is to nurture the still healing relations of the three realms. If the Devildom immediately started meddling in Human World or Celestial Realm matters, the hard work and achievements done in the exchange program would be all for naught, as it is likely suspicion and distrust would rise again. If, however, more time passes and there is still no contact with MC, please let me know and I will see what I can do. But right now, it just isn’t feasible. My apologies. Signed, Lord Diavolo.”

An eerie silence lingers throughout the room as each demon registers and digests what they just heard.

“So… we’re just supposed to do nothing?” Belphie is the first to ask.

“Yes. At least until further notice,” Lucifer answers.

To Lucifer’s surprise, most of his brothers stay quiet. Looks of defeat, anger, and sorrow flash through many of his brothers’ eyes; it reminds him too much of the war. A loud crack and a shattering sound burst through the room as all eyes turn to Beel. The Avatar of Gluttony was clutching his bowl of chips so hard that he shattered the bowl. By the way he’s trembling, his eyes locked onto the floor, and his hands still clenching the mix of plastic and crushed chips in his hands, he likely doesn’t even realize what he’s done.

Belphie is the first to get up and attempt to soothe his twin. But Beel suddenly stands to his feet, his purple eyes filled with anger and disbelief. Buzzing can be heard as Beel transforms into his demon form. Infernal magic pulses through the air as Beel’s wings buzz angrily.

“Beel, please calm down,” Lucifer tries to reason.

“How can I be calm!?” Beel roars, the normally gentle giant growing into a fit of rage. He normally only did this when he was starving or denied food. To see this kind of wrath out of the Avatar of Gluttony that wasn’t caused by food is unheard of.

“We’ll get through this, Beel. All of us,” Belphie says calmly, while gently holding onto one of Beel’s arms.

Belphie can feel all of Beel’s muscles tense under him, and he’s nearly certain that if anyone else was in his position right now, Beel would have thrown them across the room. But Beel doesn’t, he can’t do that, not to Belphie. But his anger still roars inside him and his muscles stay tense. Infernal magic continues to thrum through the room and Beel’s fly-like wings don’t cease their buzzing.

So instead, Beelzebub lets out a tremendous roar that causes the windows to shake and even a few to crack. Everyone else in the room including Belphegor puts their hands over their ears and double over at the sudden sound. The sixth-born screams until his lungs eventually empty. He easily shrugs Belphie off of him, since the seventh-born loosened his grip to cover his ears, and then the Avatar of Gluttony stomps out of the room. Shortly after, every brother can hear a door become a pile of splinters as Beel destroys the door to his room.

“I think I have tinnitus now,” Levi whimpers, hesitantly letting go of his ears once there’s no more ruckus from Beelzebub.

“I’m going to go check on him,” Belphie says quietly as he quickly walks to his room.

Lucifer’s face is covered in many wrinkles as he tries to hold in his own negative emotions; his own anger, his own frustration, his own fear, and his own disappointment. “Meeting adjourned,” Lucifer grumbles, swiftly walking up to Asmodeus.

Every other brother is smart enough to scramble out of the way; Levi immediately runs to the shelter and safety of his room. Lucifer roughly grabs Asmo by the bloodied collar of his jacket and practically drags him to the stairwell. Normally, on the very rare occasion when Asmo was punished like this, he would kick, scream, scratch, bite, plead, and do just about anything that could possibly ‘harm his natural beauty.’ But after getting pummeled by a butler and having your hopes and dreams crushed by the prince of your realm tends to take all the fight out of someone.

Asmo is silent and surprisingly obedient as Lucifer tightly binds the Avatar of Lust with rope, and hangs him from the ceiling. Normally, Asmo would have made a joke or a remark about how being tied up like this was arousing, but his mind was too clouded with shame, guilt, and worry for your health and well-being.

Lucifer steps back for a moment to admire his work, double checking the binds to make sure they can’t come undone. But when Lucifer looks down at his younger brother he can see silent tears streaking down the fifth-born’s face. Asmo catches Lucifer staring at him and speaks up.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks so quietly it’s nearly a whisper.

“Because you broke into the Demon Lord’s Castle, Asmodeus. It’s plain and simple,” Lucifer states in a voice that’s matter of fact. Asmo gives him a disappointed and frustrated look.

“You know damn well that’s not what I was asking, Lucifer.” Asmo is glaring at his older brother through the tears. The anger and hatred in his honey eyes are very uncharacteristic of the Avatar of Lust. It’s like he’s silently saying, “I challenge you and your authority.”

Lucifer sighs, but his pride prevents him from looking away at his brother. He knows; he already knows. He already knows his brothers are questioning why he doesn’t do more. They question if he even cares anymore. They question what he values more; his loyalty to Diavolo or his love for you. But Lucifer refuses to acknowledge such questions, especially if they come from his brothers. He is the Avatar of Pride! The first-born and the eldest! He does not need to answer them or their curiosities.

“My thoughts and decisions are not for you to know,” Lucifer says to his brother, having to hold back his frustration. The Avatar of Pride walks away, leaving the Avatar of Lust to hang there helplessly.

Chapter Text

Hours have passed, and Asmo is still hanging upside down in the stairwell. It’s well into the night now, everyone should be asleep. His tears have dried but their streak marks remain. He’s felt his D.D.D. buzzing rapidly in his pocket for the last few minutes now. Probably his fans on Devilgram wondering why he hasn’t posted his nightly skin care routine.

“I bet the demons that cared about me would come looking for me if I went silent,” Asmo snarls in the empty stairwell. He’s still so angry and frustrated at the situation, but at Lucifer especially.

Asmo’s D.D.D. continues to buzz in his pocket every few seconds, but the only thing he can do is sigh in discontentment. But then the buzzing goes silent, then Asmo hears faint footsteps coming down the stairwell. Several pairs of footsteps, actually. Mammon is the first to pop-up in front of Asmo’s field of view, then Beel, followed by Levi and Satan.

“We’re having a brotherly meeting,” Satan explains to the fifth-born. “Without Lucifer.”

“We made a private group chat without Lucifer in it, but we wanted to include you in the conversation,” Beel says to Asmo.

If the situation wasn’t so dire, and Asmo not so pissed off, he might have actually felt adored by Beel’s statement. “Is that why my D.D.D. was flying off the handle?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Beel apologizes.

Levi is about to open his mouth to say something but is cut off by Asmo. “Where’s Belphie?”

“He’s sleeping. I’ll tell him everything when he wakes up,” says Beel.

“So, you all have already made a plan, yes?” Asmo asks, craning his neck to look at all of his brothers.

“Well… Kinda,” Mammon shrugs.

“We were all talking in the group chat, and it turns out we all had one thing in common with our failed break-ins,” Levi says with confidence, and even a bit of anger in his voice. The third-born is not looking shaky or timid like he usually is, and his orange eyes are filled with purpose and drive.

Asmo sighs, dropping his head, letting gravity do the work for him. “I think I can already take a guess,” he mumbles sadly.

“Barbatos,” Asmo’s brothers answer in unison.

“That guy is fuckin’ everywhere! There’s no way past him!” Mammon shouts in frustration.

Satan knocks the second-born over the head with his fist. “Will you be quiet, idiot!? Do you want Lucifer to hear about this!?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Mammon apologizes, rubbing the back of his head where Satan had hit him.

“I can’t believe Barbatos stopped all of us,” Levi mumbles, shifting his gaze to the ground.

“What can we do about him? We clearly can’t beat him in a fight. Just look at what he did to my beautiful appearance!” Asmo complains. But he was right, no one in this House - maybe not even Lucifer - could beat Barbatos in a bout of strength. Stealth and magic didn’t work either.

“That’s why we’re not going to try and fight Barbatos. Or sneak around him, or trick him,” Beel says, a smile coming onto his face.

“Okay, but what have we not tried yet?” Asmo asks.

“Teamwork,” A voice answers behind the fifth-born. Asmo can’t turn around to see him, but he knows that voice belongs to Belphie.

Once the Avatar of Sloth finally comes into Asmo’s view, he has a lazy and tired smile on his face. “Beel and I are going together.”

“I still don’t understand how you’re gonna stop Barbatos,” Mammon mumbles.

“Mammon, we discussed this already,” Satan sighs, holding his forehead in his hand in disappointment.

“Such a normie,” Levi mumbles, also disappointed.

“What!? I just don’t remember!” Mammon shouts. Satan smacks him upside the head again for being too loud.

Belphie sighs and closes his eyes, bringing his fingers up to his face in that odd way that he always does. “After RAD tomorrow, Beel and I are going to the Castle. Beel is going to distract Barbatos in any way he can while I look for the portal.”

“And if one of us gets in trouble, the other will know about it,” Beel concludes, smiling proudly.

“It isn’t the best plan in the world, but it’s the best we’ve got yet. It’s also physically impossible for Barbatos to be in two places at once,” Satan says, nodding to himself as if he’s trying to convince himself that this will actually work.

“Barbatos also ain’t seen somethin’ like this before from us. We’ve only been goin’ in one by one, so there’s no way he’ll be expectin’ both the twins together!” Mammon whisper yells, not wanting to get smacked by Satan again.

“The twins’ telepathic connection is definitely something Barbatos can’t prepare for,” Levi chuckles, a large grin showing up on his face.

Asmo can’t help but laugh and smile as well. They’re right; this plan isn't fool proof, but it’s something they haven’t tried before. And Satan is right; Barbatos can’t be in two places at once.

“We expect a full report upon your successful return,” Asmo says, enjoying this light moment with his brothers.

“And no one act out of place,” Satan warns. “Lucifer must be certain now that someone is going to try to break into the Castle or something. We can’t let him know it’s the twins.”

“Or it’ll be game over,” Levi mumbles.

“Mammon, can’t you just bug Lucifer all day?” Asmo asks.

“Do ya want me to perish!?” The second-born is promptly struck again by the fourth-born for his loud volume. “Stop doing that, Satan!”

“Everyone just ignore him,” Belphie yawns, growing tired of his brothers’ antics. “Everyone just skip breakfast again and find food elsewhere. We’ll all attend our classes at RAD like it's a normal day, and once classes are over, Beel and I will sneak over to the Castle as everyone else avoids Lucifer.”

“If everyone is ignoring Lucifer and being difficult to find, hopefully he won’t notice that Belphie and I are gone,” Beel finishes.

“You don’t even have to ask me to avoid Lucifer,” Satan snickers.

A few more words are shared among the brothers before the meeting adjourns and every brother goes back to his respective room, except Beel, who goes off to raid the fridge since he won’t be having breakfast tomorrow. And Asmodeus, who is left hanging in the stairwell until morning.

There is still no response from you on the sixth day, and unfortunately, that is becoming the expected norm.

Once Asmodeus is freed from hanging from the ceiling, the fifth-born runs to his room and locks himself in without even acknowledging the first-born. Lucifer sighs and heads off to the kitchen. He is on cooking duty this morning, but with no sight of his brothers for the second morning in a row, the Avatar of Pride decides to save his time and energy by only cooking for himself. Except there isn’t much to cook, as a certain Avatar of Gluttony has eaten everything in the fridge. Which in hindsight, Lucifer should have expected, as they no longer have a certain human on duty to prevent this from happening.

Lucifer sighs as he grabs some cursed berry jelly from the fridge and prepares to make himself a pitiful plate of toast. Honestly, he’s going to have to start jinxing the fridge overnight to prevent Beel from eating all of its contents. While waiting for the bread to toast, Lucifer makes himself a pot of coffee.

Lucifer walks into the dining room with a plate of jellied toast and pot of coffee in hand. Unsurprisingly, no one is sat at the dining table. Eventually his brothers will learn that starving themselves will not get them what they want. Lucifer eats his breakfast in silence before walking off to RAD. But little does he know that all of his brothers are already at the Academy.

Little happens at RAD today. However, strangely enough, Lucifer makes a head count and finds that all of his brothers are at school today. It’s a welcoming change after the hellscape of a week his brothers have made. Though his brothers ignore him like he’s plagued whenever he tries to approach any of them. Fine. Not like it matters. At least they’re attending to their academic duties for a change.

The remainder of the day is surprisingly normal. Until the end of the day, when Lucifer is given an abnormal amount of student council work. Nearly every day he had papers to go through and sort. But it was usually a small pile he could take home and work on in his study. But this was not a small pile. This was at least three times the size of his normal stack of papers. Apparently, his brothers’ attempted break-ins at the Castle have caused a stir among students at RAD. This led to other students following such stupid examples and committing petty crimes such as theft, graffiti, and breaking property. Which at the end of the day, meant more work for Lucifer. He should have expected a ripple effect to happen, knowing how the student council at RAD was supposed to be like a role model figure for all of the other students.

While Lucifer stresses over all of this paper work at his desk in the student council room, he has no idea a few of his brothers are silently watching him outside the door.

“Is he busy?” Asmo whispers as Satan peeks through the window on the door into the room.

Asmo’s bruises from the brawl with Barbatos have healed to where they aren’t as noticeable anymore, but the Avatar of Lust also covered whatever damages remained with heavy amounts of make-up.

“It looks like it. I don’t know what caused all of the paperwork he’s sorting through, but I guess we don’t need to use the distraction now,” Satan whispers back.

“Then put me down!” Mammon whisper yells, coiled tightly in Levi’s tail to prevent him from fighting back and running away.

“Too bad. I really wanted to see Mammon get thrown through the door,” Asmo whines as Levi gently sets his brother down and transforms out of his demon form.

“I’ll text the twins to progress with the plan,” Levi whispers, pulling out his D.D.D.

A few seconds later, out in the outskirts of the Castle’s grounds, the twins get a text on their D.D.D., it’s from Levi; Lucifer is secured at RAD. The two take one last look at each other.

“I’m counting on you,” Belphie says quietly to his twin.

“We can’t let MC down,” Beel confirms with that gentle smile of his.

Beel leaves Belphie on the outskirts as he approaches the gates. With the recent activity of the demon brothers, the guards are quick to notice Beel and shout for backup. The Avatar of Gluttony doesn’t even reach the still ruined gate before being swarmed by guards.

A massive guard in plated gold armor stomps forth towards Beel. He’s so large that his armor can’t cover his whole body, exposing bulging muscles, twisted horns, and hooved feet. The demon’s skin is dark green, signaling that the sin that sent him to the Devildom was wrath. The demon holds a golden great sword in a single hand, his sheer size allowing him to wield it as if it were a normal sword. Though this demon is particularly large, Beel is still a good few inches taller than him. But there’s no mistake about it; this is the commander of the Castle guards.

“Who dares approach the Demon Lord’s Castle?” The commander snarls, deep and gurgled words struggling to escape past a pointed tongue and sharp teeth.

“Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony,” Beel answers, squaring his shoulders, making him look even taller and more muscular than he already is.

The commander does not step back or flinch. “You are not welcome here.”

Beel and his brothers should have expected this. Of course they wouldn’t be welcomed after their most recent antics.

Beel’s stomach growls and he bites his tongue to hold back an agitated growl. “I have matters to discuss with Barbatos.”

“What matters?”

Beel’s stomach growls again. He knows he’s emanating Infernal magic without meaning too. He can feel his horns starting to poke out of his ginger hair. He needs to keep his cool if he’s going to get what he wants.

In the back of Beel’s mind he can feel it; a soft, comforting, and tired purple presence. It hugs him and holds him in the back of his spirit. It’s Belphegor trying to comfort him, even from a distance. Of course his twin could feel his growing sense of anger and hunger. If anyone could bring Beelzebub back to reality, it was Belphie. Beel’s horns start to retreat and the Infernal magic slowly dissipates as Beel calms down.

“Matters that involve only Barbatos’ knowing,” Beel calmly replies.

“You honestly think I’m just going to let you walk inside?” The commander sneers. “I should have you chased back to the House of Lamentation for your pitiful ignor–”

“That’s enough,” A cool yet stern voice cuts off the commander.

All eyes turn to look at the Castle’s entrance where the voice came from; no surprise, it’s Barbatos, standing there as cool and collected as ever. The demon butler walks towards the Avatar of Gluttony and the commander, all of the other guards quickly scurry out of his way to make a pathway. Barbatos stands between the two mighty demons, but faces the commander.

“I will handle this. Call off your men and return to your duties,” Barbatos instructs.

The commander lets out an angry growl and reluctantly turns to face his men. “All of you, scatter! Return to your posts! There’s nothing to see here,” the commander growls the last part of his statement before stomping and huffing back into the Castle.

Barbatos turns and faces the sixth-born. “What brings you here, Beelzebub?”

“I’m actually looking for you, Barbatos,” Beelzebub answers as he holds one of his wrists, his gentle smile adorned back on his face.

Barbatos lets the shock show on his face, clearly taken aback. “You’re here for me? Is this not some kind of trick to get to the portal?” Barbatos calmly asks.

Beel’s stomach growls loudly and the Avatar of Gluttony puts an embarrassed hand over his hungry stomach. “No, I was hoping you would do a personal favor for me, actually.”

Barbatos eyes him suspiciously. “What kind of favor?”

“I was wondering if MC had taught you any Human World recipes while she was here. With everything that’s been going on, I’ve really missed her more than ever, and was hoping to get something that reminds me of her,” Beel’s stomach howls again. “And I’m just hungry, too.”

Barbatos eyes the sixth-born up and down before relenting, dropping his guard. The demon butler sighs. He knows he probably shouldn’t fulfill such a request, but… Things have been difficult lately, for everyone.

Barbatos lets out a soft sigh before looking up at the Avatar of Gluttony. “Yes, she did teach me a few recipes before her departure. I will fulfill your request, Beelzebub,” Barbatos gives him a soft smile but his eyes are dark and serious. “But if I have a single suspicion that you are here for other reasons, I will not hesitate to escort you out myself.”

Beelzebub smiles widely at the demon butler. “Thank you, Barbatos. I want to deal with my worry in a different way than my brothers.”

Barbatos just lets out a simple ‘hmm’ before escorting Beel into the kitchen, though the Avatar of Gluttony already knew where the kitchen was by heart.

Off in the outskirts of the Castle, Belphie is suddenly filled with warmth and happiness, he can see a bright red light in the back of his mind beaming with happiness, and hunger. It’s Beel, this must mean he’s gotten into the Castle and will be fed soon. Now it’s Belphie’s turn.

Belphie transforms into his demon form and crawls onto the front grounds on all fours as he slides up to the gates of the Castle. Most of the guards are on duty and going about their patrol routes. But what Belphegor hadn’t planned for is just how many of them there are. Diavolo, or likely Barbatos, must have hired more guards due to the brothers’ shenanigans. Well, two could play at this game.

Belphie’s eyes glow purple as he calls forth his Infernal magic. “Lambs of slumber, guide these demons to more restful pastures.”

Belphegor summons several purple, horned, transparent magic sheep behind him, before using his Infernal magic to guide them to their destinations; the unsuspecting guards. The sheep take down the guards one by one. The magical animals trot up to their respective guards before leaping and disappearing into their armor, causing the guards to quickly collapse towards the ground and fall asleep. Several guards tried to shout for help or blow their war horns, but the sheep’s magic was too strong. None could resist sleep magic from the Avatar of Sloth himself.

Belphie comes out of hiding and admires his work, looking over at all of the sleeping guards. “Too easy,” the seventh-born says in an amused but tired voice, as he walks through the gates of the Castle. Now it was time for the actual hard part.

Belphegor quietly sneaks in through the front door, being careful not to step on any sleeping guards. Once inside, he scales one of the many golden pillars in the Castle and crawls around on the ceiling, using the ornamental fixtures for hand grips. Leviathan has already failed by trying to be sneaky on the ground, so Belphegor was not going to repeat the same mistake. Though Barbatos was busy with Beelzebub, now was not the time to be taking chances. Belphegor silently and swiftly crawls through the Castle on the ceiling like some kind of spider, his long tail helping him to stay balanced. Though something he did have to worry about, was to be careful about avoiding knocking his large horns into statues and decorations.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Barbatos silently prepares Beelzebub a few dishes of Human World cuisine that you had taught him. The Avatar of Gluttony is surprisingly quiet as Barbatos cooks, though his stomach is not.

“What’s on your mind?” Barbatos asks, without turning away from stove.

Beel lets out a disgruntled sound as his stomach continues to growl. “I’m just really, really hungry.”

“Is that really it?”

Beel sighs and lowers his head, his ginger hair covering his purple eyes. “No… I’m really worried about MC.”

Beel plays with his hands in an effort to distract himself. He was so worried about you, though he tried to be strong about it and not let it show to his brothers, especially Belphie. You were so frail and gentle, you looked like a puppy in his giant arms. Beelzebub loved holding you whenever you asked for cuddles, especially on cold nights in the Devildom. The gentle giant was practically a walking-talking heater. His big, strong arms and chest were always there to support you when you needed him. His strong yet gentle hands were always there to caress and wipe away your tears when things became overwhelming.

A blush washes over the Avatar of Gluttony when he remembers the first time the two of you were intimate. It was an act he had hungered for a long time, but never had the courage to ask you. Both out of fear of rejection, but also that his sheer size and strength would hurt you. But that one fateful night when you approached him and asked for a night of passion, he just couldn’t deny his feelings any longer. Despite the very obvious size difference, the way you squeezed around him was nothing but absolute bliss. You gave the sixth-born confidence in himself and his sexual abilities in the bedroom. After the first encounter, the Avatar of Gluttony had little trouble asking you for some private time whenever he was given the opportunity.

“Beelzebub?” The call of his name snaps Beel out of his stupor. He looks up and notices Barbatos is right in his face. “Are you alright? I was starting to worry you might have passed out sitting up.”

Beel blushes even more, but this time it's out of embarrassment. “No, I’m okay. I was just thinking about her.”

Barbatos’ eyes soften in understanding and returns to cooking. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m worried about her too.”

Beelzebub’s eyes jolt back to the butler. “You are? Then… Why won’t you let us go to the Human World? Why not use the portal yourself?”

Barbatos sighs. “Because that is not what the Young Master wishes.”

“But why not? I thought he cared about her too. It doesn’t make sense.”

Barbatos takes the finished dish off of the stove and sets it aside to cool before looking back at Beel. “He does care, more than you could ever know. But because of his position and the healing connections between the three realms, it’s just too risky. If something did happen, we would not be able to interfere or intervene because individual cases of Human World affairs do not concern the Devildom. And I know the seven of you; if something did happen, and you all found out about it, there would be no stopping the seven of you. Then everything Lord Diavolo has done to bring peace to the three realms would all be for nothing. The exchange program would be deemed a failure, and the Human World would never allow residents of the Devildom back into their lands. Meaning you, and your brothers, would never get to see MC ever again.”

Beelzebub freezes, his appetite actually subsiding for a moment. Were he and his brothers actually putting you at stake by trying to get to you? His eyes look down at the marble counters before him, his body growing cold. But that coldness is quickly replaced with a growing sense of determination and a hint of frustration.

“There has to be another way, Barbatos. If there is peace between the Human World and the Devildom, then there must be a way to get to her and help her without any tension or misunderstandings.”

Barbatos puffs air out through his nose and starts putting the finishing touches on the Avatar of Gluttony’s food; there really is no way to talk sense into these demon brothers. “If there was a way, we would have already put that plan into execution.”

Barbatos places several plates of food in front of Beel, yet there is a sour look on the sixth-born’s face. “I’m not hungry,” he mutters, even though the growling of his stomach clearly shows that he’s lying.

“I’m sorry Beelzebub, but there is nothing I can do,” Barbatos says as he turns his back to Beel to start cleaning the kitchen.

Barbatos can feel Beel’s cold and angry stare on his back as he fills the kitchen sink with hot water and dish soap, but it's true, there really is nothing he can do. The demon butler does feel a little smile lift on his lips when he hears the Avatar of Gluttony finally start to indulge himself. Beel starts off slow, only taking a few bites, but once he registers the deliciousness of Human World food prepared by a master chef, he falls into his normal feeding frenzy.

Barbatos chuckles a little as he washes a frying pan. “How’s the food?”

“Ish fauntashic,” Beel answers through a mouthful of food.

Barbatos chuckles before freezing in his place; there’s a disturbance in the air. His sixth sense is screaming at him; something is wrong, but he doesn’t know what. He looks back at Beel, who is very clearly distracted with his meal. Barbatos takes his hands out of the sink and dries them.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells Beel as he exits the kitchen, but the Avatar of Gluttony doesn’t even acknowledge him.

Barbatos walks up and down the halls of the Castle but he finds nothing amiss. Yet, he can’t drop the feeling that something is wrong, like something is out of place. Barbatos knows this Castle as if it were a living organism. He’s lived in this Castle for centuries, he knows it by heart, so he also knows when something is wrong. Yet the demon butler can’t find the anomaly, despite the Castle practically silently screaming at him that there is something abnormal.

Barbatos stands in one of the many stairwells, confused, when he hears the slightest noise; a jangling of chains. Specifically, the support chains of one of the many chandeliers. Barbatos bolts to where he hears the noise. He ends up in one of the Castle’s many studies, and when he looks up, sure enough, the chandelier is very slowly swaying side to side. All of the windows are closed and no guards or guests are in the study; there’s an intruder.

“Shit,” Belphie whispers as the tip of his ram-like horns accidentally knock into one of the support chains of the chandelier in the study he had crawled into. He could have gone another way; he should have gone another way! But the path he did take had the most support and grip for him to grab on to.

But now here he is, hiding in the shadows on the ceiling, holding his breath as Barbatos looks for him down below. As long as he did not look straight up, the seventh-born should be okay. Though Belphie hates him, he would sure do a lot right about now to have Lucifer’s wings to better hide himself in the darkness with.

Belphie watches with terrified purple eyes as Barbatos walks into the center of the room and stands there. The butler is as still as a statue. Belphegor reaches out a shaky hand to move onto the next ornamental grip before quickly retracting it as all of the lights in the room turn turquoise. Belphie can see the shockwave of Barbatos’ Infernal magic spread through the room, and he feels the cold as it passes through his body. It’s already too late.

“I should have known,” Barbatos mutters, his voice amplified and seeming to come from all directions thanks to his magic.

In a heartbeat, Belphie is pulled down from the ceiling by an invisible force, then left sprawled out on the floor. Barbatos stands over him with a very unamused look on his face. The room gets so cold that the demons can see their breaths.

“I should have known,” Barbatos mutters again, his voice still filling the entire study. “That you can’t have one twin without the other; if there’s smoke there’s fire.”

Belphegor lets out a long sigh in defeat and drops his head onto the freezing floor as his demon form fades away. “Just don’t hurt Beelzebub, please.”

Barbatos looms over the seventh-born, his face deathly serious. “Whose idea was this?”

The Avatar of Sloth remains still and silent. If the room wasn’t so cold he might actually doze off.

“Belphegor, please do not make this difficult.”

“I can’t tell you,” The chronically tired demon answers.

Barbatos huffs in annoyance; he’s getting really sick and tired of these encounters. He picks up the Avatar of Sloth with his levitating powers and brings the seventh-born right to his face.

“Belphegor, if you do not answer, I’m afraid I’m going to have to–”

“Don’t you dare touch him!”

Beelzebub smashes through the study’s doorway, sending the wooden doors flying off their hinges and splintering into the study. The Avatar of Gluttony is in his demon form, his wings buzzing behind him angrily. Beel had felt the flash of panic and fear come from his twin. The sixth-born didn’t even finish his food before rushing off to find Belphie, just to find the demon butler holding his twin captive. Beel lunges at Barbatos with arms outstretched, ready to crush and pulverize.

“By the stars,” Barbatos curses, turning his attention away from Belphie to Beelzebub. Barbatos lifts one of his hands and prepares a spell. “Lamb of slumber, lead this demon to more restful pastures.”

A purple, transparent sheep appears a few feet in front of Barbatos. So instead of lunging at the butler, Beelzebub ends up colliding with the lamb. Immediately upon contact, the Avatar of Gluttony falls asleep as he flies through the air. Barbatos steps to the side and levitates Belphie out of the way as Beel flies past them and crashes into a table, breaking it upon contact. Despite the rough landing, the sixth-born does not awaken.

“Beel!” Belphie cries out, having just seen his twin take a crash landing.

Belphie turns his attention back to Barbatos. His eyes glow purple as his demon form reappears. The Avatar of Sloth’s Infernal magic thrums through the air, daring to rival Barbatos’. “You’re going to regret that!”

Belphie tries to swipe at the demon butler with his teal claws, but Barbatos just simply moves out of the way, leaving the Avatar of Sloth to flail in the suspended air pitifully. Even Belphie’s long tail cannot swat at Barbatos from where he levitates.

“I’m sorry, Belphegor,” Barbatos says, though he doesn’t sound very apologetic. The butler raises his hand. “Lamb of slumber, lead this demon to more restful pastures.”

“Don’t you da–” Belphie is cut off as the little purple lamb runs up to him and embraces him.

The seventh-born loses all feelings and perceptions as his body goes limp and his mind starts to darken. The last thing he sees is Barbatos levitating Beel out of the shattered, wooden debris.

When Belphie opens his eyes, he is left floating in a dark, pitch-black room, out of his demon form. It makes some kind of sense that only the Avatar of Sloth would be able to have dreams when induced under sleep magic. In front of him, a large white square immediately pops into existence from the void. He squints and uses his arms to protect his vision from the blinding light. Audio can be heard coming from the square in front of him - is that you… laughing? Belphie lowers his arms and slowly tries to open his eyes more to look at the screen-like square in front of him. It’s you, on the screen. The point of view on the screen is his own, as if he was looking at you through his own eyes. It looks like you’re on his bed in his and Beel’s shared room. And there you are, laughing, with a large smile on your face and happiness in your eyes. This is one of his many memories with you. His mind was playing out his own memories in front of him as if this were a movie theater of some sorts.

The square screen goes static, a loud hissing sounding rings out through the abyss to accompany the static, before the screen suddenly comes back to life with a new memory. The two of you are in the attic. You’re asleep on Belphie’s chest as he gently plays with your hair, trying his best to stay awake and savor this moment for as long as he can. The screen goes static again, then another memory appears.

“Belphegor, wait!” He hears your voice. The picture on the screen moves to show you running up to Belphie. You’re in your RAD uniform and the two of you are not far from the Academy. “Did you forget that I said I’d walk home with you today?”

He hears his own voice chuckle from the screen. “Hehe, yeah, I did. I’m sorry.”

Over and over the screen goes static before playing more of his own memories of the two of you spending time with each other. Belphie feels tears well up in his eyes. How could such wonderful memories bring forth such sorrow and pain?

There’s static on the screen, and then another memory. Belphie’s face goes as red as a screaming tomato as he takes in the sights and sounds of the screen. You’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, as he offers words of encouragement while soaking up your moans. The memories went from wholesome to dirty really quick, and they don’t change back.

“Belphegor,” A voice calls out from the abyss. But Belphie can’t look away from the screen, the erotic memories have him trapped in place.

“Belphegor,” The voice in the abyss calls out again.

But Belphie can’t focus on the voice, not when you’re bare and exposed in front of him. The way your skin glistens with sweat. How he holds you so close to him and leaves hickies all over your chest to claim you as his, knowing damn well his brothers would eventually notice.

“Belphegor!”

Belphie slowly opens his eyes and looks up to see a very pissed off Lucifer.

“Lucifer, what the hell?” Belphie groans at the eldest brother. “I was having an amazing dream.”

“Well, the two of you are in an amazing amount of trouble!” Lucifer yells, slightly shaking the House with his voice.

Belphie looks around and takes in his surroundings. He’s back in the House of Lamentation, in the common room, to be precise. It’s just him, Beel, and Lucifer - thankfully the demon butler is nowhere to be seen. Beel is sitting opposite of him on the other couch, the Avatar of Gluttony is already up and awake, yet has a very guilty look on his face. When Beel notices Belphie looking at him, the sixth-born lowers his head and bites his lip. He mouths a silent “I’m sorry” to his twin.

“It’s not your fault,” Belphie mouths back.

It really wasn’t Beel’s fault for giving into his sin and letting Barbatos slip past him while he was eating. If anything, it might have been more suspicious for Beel to deny food to question where the demon butler was going. If anything, it was Belphie’s fault. If he hadn’t bumped into that chandelier, everything would have gone to plan. But no, he’s failed, just like his brothers.

That night, the twins are denied dinner and are hung up in different stairwells; Beel in the stairwell that leads to everyone’s rooms, and Belphie in the stairwell that leads to the attic.

After tying up the twins, Lucifer storms back to the entrance hall of the House. “I’ve had it, with all of you,” Lucifer mutters under his breath.

He walks up to the front door and holds out both hands. Lucifer lets his demon form show as his eyes glow a dark blue. His hands start drawing blue sigils and Infernal symbols before pressing them into the door. He seals the magic by summoning a blue ring of Infernal magic before him. The ring bares various symbols of magic and power that is exclusive to Infernal magic. Lucifer taps on a few symbols before drawing the sigil of pride in the middle of the ring and pushing it into the door, successfully sealing his magic in the House, as well as making it more potent.

"̵̢̪̆T̴̞̤́h̸̜͙̉ő̵̮̞̅u̷̖͐g̴̪͎͑h̸̞͖͂̀ ̵͓̬̀͗s̷̡̕ḩ̴̗̊͒a̸̛͉̲l̷͎͉̉͝l̵̠̔ ̸̬͋͐n̴̹̈̋o̶̮͇͌t̶̛̺͘ ̵̡̾͝e̷͚̓̈́s̴͉͗͝ͅc̷͕̔a̷͙̱͛̕p̸̱͔̈͗ę̴̫͑̓ ̸̢́̚t̷̙͝ĥ̶̫͝y̷̱̋̍ͅ'̷̜͗s̴̫̿̈́ ̴͕̍a̷̜̾͊b̴̨͝õ̶̻ͅd̷̦̍e̷̢͙̋,̸̻̈̑"̶̳́ Lucifer mutters in Infernal against the door, activating the sigils and symbols.

A blue pulse spreads through the House like an infection. All exits to the outside are blocked and sealed with the same sigils and symbols Lucifer used on the front door. The House is now barricaded with a near unbreakable magic seal.

Lucifer steps back for a moment and admires his handiwork. He chuckles to himself as he walks to his room, his demon form slipping away. “Try to get past this, dear brothers.”

Chapter Text

On the seventh day, all hell breaks loose. It’s been a full week, and there hasn’t been anything from you! No text, call, face call, email, letter, parcel; nothing!

The stormy weather outside is very fitting for everyone’s’ moods in the House of Lamentation. Rain pounds against the House and windows like sorrowed tears. Thunder roars like that of an enraged demon. Lightning lights up the sky like quick flashes of Infernal magic. The storm is so bad that Diavolo has canceled RAD for the day due to unsafe travel conditions.

The seven demon brothers sit around at the dining room table eating breakfast. But the air is awkward and silent. Lucifer stares at his plate and acknowledges no one. Everyone else looks at each other awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Beel and Belphie are both eating like hungry hounds due to having no dinner from the night prior. But something doesn’t feel right in the House, and it’s not just because of the severe storm or the tension between the brothers; there’s something more, like there’s something different about the House itself. But no one dares to utter a word about it in Lucifer’s presence.

After breakfast, Lucifer instructs all of his brothers to study to make-up for all the school work they’re missing for the day, as he himself heads to his study to deal with his usual student council paperwork. Though the brothers do quietly go to their respective rooms after breakfast, not a single one opens their textbooks.

Mammon is the first one to send a text in the Rescue MC (6) group chat.

Mammon: Does anyone have any new ideas to get past Barbatos?

Asmo: What haven’t we tried yet?

Mammon: Ooh! What if we bribed or blackmailed Barbatos!?

Satan: Mammon you idiot! That would never work!

Leviachan: lolololololol

Beel: What if we all snuck into the Castle in a large cake and did an ambush?

Belphie: Beel, you would eat the cake before we even get to the Castle.

Satan: Does anyone have any good ideas?

Asmo: What if we all stormed the Castle together? Beel and Belphie got considerably farther when they were working as a team.

Belphie: Hell yeah we did.

Leviachan: Only because Barbatos didn’t know the other twin was hanging around.

Mammon: You got any other ideas, Levi?

Leviachan: Feeding you to Lotan as a friendship gift.

Beel: Stop it you guys.

Satan: … That actually isn’t a bad idea.

Mammon: *shocked demoji*

Beel: You mean feeding Mammon to Lotan?

Asmo: *laughing demoji*

Leviachan: *laughing demoji*

Satan: No! Storming the Castle!

Asmo: I didn’t think you guys would actually consider the idea.

Leviachan: Well, we haven’t tried that idea yet, so…

Beel: So now we just have to make a plan.

Mammon: Maybe we can use the storm to our advantage?

Satan: How?

Belphie: Guys.

Mammon: I don’t know, use it to cover our tracks, or somethin’?

Satan: Even if that did work, you don’t think Lucifer will find it suspicious that the House will be oddly quiet?

Belphie: Guys…

Asmo: Ooh! I know! Let’s have Mammon go rouse Cerberus! Then Lucifer will have to take care of that… thing, and we can leave!

Leviachan: *laughing demoji*

Mammon: Hell no!

Belphie: GUYS!

Satan: What!?

Belphie: You guys need to meet me in the entrance hall, now.

Beel: What is it?

Belphie: Just come down and check this out.

Every demon brother pockets their D.D.D. and makes haste towards the entrance way, where Belphie is waiting for them with his attention towards the front door.

“What’s wrong?” Beel asks, running up to his twin and checking him to make sure nothing happened to him.

“I’m fine, Beel,” Belphie sighs, trying to gently shove his twin off of him. “I’m not the problem here.”

Mammon gives him a puzzled look. “Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s the door,” Satan says in his matter-of-fact voice.

“The door? What do you mean?” Asmo asks.

Satan walks towards the door, then turns to face his brothers. “Do you not feel it? The magic surrounding the House?” Satan attempts to place his palm against the door, but he’s immediately zapped by blue lightning that sprung up from the dark wood of the door. Satan quickly retracts his hand with a hiss of pain. The seal that Lucifer placed on the door glows blue for a moment for everyone to see, before it fades back into the door. “Lucifer has sealed the House shut with magic. We’re not getting out that easily.”

“Lucifer always has to ruin everything,” Belphegor growls, but Beel is at his side to soothe him.

“What do we do then?” Levi asks.

“What if we tried getting out through a window?” Mammon asks.

“Surely Lucifer would have thought of that and sealed all of the windows as well,” Satan says in an annoyed tone, killing the idea.

“But we don’t know for certain, though,” Asmo adds, putting his hands behind his back and swaying in place, a mischievous look in his eyes. “I have a few large windows in my bathroom; they’re perfect for gazing out at the Devildom during baths. If we can open just one window, we can all slip out at once. They’re big enough for us to squeeze out of, even Beel will be able to escape through one of my windows.”

“Surely Lucifer would have sealed all the doors and windows in this House,” Satan says again, his tone becoming increasingly frustrated and annoyed.

“But Asmo is right,” Beel speaks up. “We don’t know unless we try.”

“And it’s the best idea we’ve got right now,” Levi adds, squaring his shoulders a little bit.

Satan looks at all of his brothers and sighs. “Alright, we can try it. But I’m telling you, you’re all just going to be disappointed.”

The brothers all walk to the stairwell and up to Asmo’s room. Surprisingly, not bumping into or seeing any sign of Lucifer along the way. The brothers walk into Asmo’s very pink and flower filled room then file in to his adjacent ensuite.

Asmo’s ensuite is basically just a large marble room that stars his bathtub. A large, circular bath resides in the middle of the room that has walls to hold in water, rather than being dug in. Seven, large columns surround the bath and support the ceiling; a few of them even have curtains to drape for privacy. A large mirror with an equally large table resides on the back wall; the table holds various brands of make-up, skincare products, and perfume - all of them very expensive, of course. A chandelier hangs silently above Asmo’s bath, bathing the room in a nice pale-gold light as its crystals twinkle against the moonlight and lightning brought in from the several floor to ceiling windows on the side wall. The Avatar of Lust wasn’t kidding; if they could open one of these windows, they could all escape at once, as long as they could weather the storm on the way to the Castle.

“The storm looks really bad,” Levi mutters nervously.

“It makes me want to take a nap,” Belphie mutters.

“Come on, you guys! We’re doin’ this for MC! Get your head in the game!” Mammon says loudly enough that it echoes off of the marble floors and walls of Asmo’s ensuite.

“Shut up before you alert Lucifer!” Satan snarls at his older brother, roughly grabbing Mammon by the collar of his shirt.

“W-Woah, calm down, Satan! I didn’t mean to be loud!” Mammon stutters, putting his hands up as a sign of innocence and surrender.

“No violence in my bathroom! You’ll break something!” Asmo says, standing in between his two brothers.

“Get a grip, you guys!” Beel scolds, standing over his quarrelling brothers. His massive height has him practically towering over his three brothers.

“Yeah, we came here for a reason,” Belphie joins in, standing beside Beel.

Satan lets go of Mammon with an agitated huff, and Mammon is quick to sulk away from his younger brother. “Ya don’t gotta team up against us,” Mammon says under his breath.

Satan sighs through his nose and shakes off his embarrassment from being called out by the youngest of his brothers. “Alright, so, Asmo, how do we open your–”

“YAAAHHHH!”

All eyes turn and look at Leviathan, who is hunched over by a window, gripping his right hand tightly with his left. The window glows blue with Lucifer’s symbols and sigils before they fade back into the glass. Levi is holding back tears as he holds his hand. There’s a nasty looking burn mark on his right hand from Lucifer’s magic. Beel runs over to support his brother as Asmo runs over to his vanity to grab some band-aids and burn ointment.

“Levi, what happened?” Beel asks his brother as he hunches beside him. Beel gently grabs Levi’s injured hand and turns it over. The burn isn't too serious, and will heal in a day or two. But since the burn came from Lucifer’s magic, it definitely hurts.

“I-I was trying to open the window. But as soon as I touched it, it zapped me,” Levi explains in an uneven voice.

Asmo runs over to his brother with the medical supplies and skillfully starts treating his older brother’s wounds. It’s similar to applying make-up, in a way.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, hon. We’ll get you all patched up,” Asmo says in a gentle voice as he applies some of the burn ointment onto Levi’s burn.

“I tried to tell you Lucifer sealed every exit in the House,” Satan scolds. But everyone pretty much ignores him as Asmo finishes patching up Levi.

“How’s that?” Asmo asks after finishing bandaging Levi’s hand.

Levi flexes his fingers and turns his hand over a few times. “Better. Thanks, Asmo.”

“Now what do we do?” Belphie asks through a yawn.

Beel looks over at Satan, his purple eyes are unusually serious. "Satan, do you think you can break the magic Lucifer has put on the House?"

Satan sighs deeply and courses a hand through his messy hair. "I doubt it, but I can try."

Satan walks up to the window that Levi tried to open and sits on his knees. From where he sits, he can feel the Infernal magic thrumming through the glass pain, its power radiating off of the walls, as if silently taunting him to reach out and attempt an escape.

Satan closes his eyes and carefully draws his Infernal magic forward, drawing out his demon form in the process. Satan holds out his hands and a green ring of Infernal magic appears before him. Satan drags his own sigils and symbols into the circle in front of him and pushes it into the door, but the green ring merely bounces off the window and back in front of Satan with an electric zap-like sound. Satan swears that either the House or Lucifer's magic is silently laughing at him for his failed attempt, and it makes him a little angry.

Satan bites his cheeks to keep him grounded in reality and tries again. He shifts some Infernal figures in his magic ring and draws new sigils before adding the seal of wrath for some extra power. Satan imbues his magic ring with his personal power, making it glow a bright green. Particles of magic start to radiate and bounce off of the magic ring.

Taking a calming breath, Satan carefully but forcefully pushes the ring into the window. The magic ring immediately dissolves and fizzles away in green and blue sparks as soon as it hits the window pane. Lucifer’s sigils glow again before fading back into the glass.

“Damn you, Lucifer!” Satan yells at the window.

Infernal magic starts to hum around the Avatar of Wrath with his growing frustration. But then Belphegor sits next to his brother - demon form already showing - and holds out his hands, summoning his own purple Infernal ring of magic.

“Let me help, maybe we can force it open together,” Belphie says to Satan, giving his older brother a small yet genuine smile.

Satan huffs through his nose but keeps his mouth shut. They need to do this, they need to break this magic, and he also needs to get his anger in check. Satan holds up his hands and summons forth another green ring of magic.

The two work together silently, selecting symbols and drawing sacred and ancient sigils into their rings. Levi, in his demon form, eventually sits on his knees aside Satan, and he too summons an orange Infernal ring. Asmo, Beel, and finally Mammon join together in their demon forms, drawing forth each of their individual powers to overcome Lucifer’s will. Asmo’s ensuite starts to glow with multicolor as each colored ring began to glow and thrum with Infernal power. A strong gust starts to form in the room from all of the gathering power.

“On my word, we throw all of our power and magic at the window, together!” Satan commands, having to shout just to be heard over the growing wind storm.

Everyone’s hair is flapping about wildly, but every demon stays strong, pouring every ounce of energy they can spare into their Infernal rings.

“Satan, ya better hurry up! I can’t hold this much longer!” Mammon shouts, fighting the gale just to stay up right.

“I can’t either! Can we please hurry this up?!” Asmo yells, struggling to keep his posture in the indoor wind storm.

The now howling wind is nearly deafening as it whips through Asmo’s ensuite. Silk curtains flap and rip in the wind as expensive cosmetics fall from their place and crash onto the floor, a few even breaking and spilling their contents.

“Alright, I get it!” Satan screams against the wind. “We push together on three! One!”

Asmo’s ensuite glows with an array of colors as every magical ring glows bright with their respective sin. Sparks, flames, and smoke emerge from the rings as they’re filled to the maximum amount of power they can hold.

“Two!”

The whole House creaks and shudders under the combined force of six of the seven Avatars. Anything that is not secured to the ground goes flying about the ensuite, the wind storm having turned into a full-blown tornado.

“THREE!”

In the distance from the House of Lamentation sits one of the Devildom’s many small towns. An old, lesser demon sits in his rocking chair on his front porch, staring in awe as he watches a mirage of colors shine brightly through the thunderstorm; coming from one of the rooms in the House of Lamentation. What in the name of Lord Diavolo were those brothers doing now?

“Well, howdy, Larry!” A new voice rings out in a thick Southern accent. The demon in the rocking chair looks over and sees his very elderly neighbor limp up to him with his walking cane. “Wut’s wit dat look on yuh face?”

“Hey Charles,” The first demon greets, turning his eyes back to the House. “You need to see this.”

“Wut is it?” Charles asks as he slowly makes his way up to Larry’s porch, absolutely drenched but unbothered from the storm.

“Ugh, Charles! What are you doing? Where’s your umbrella?” Larry sighs as he slowly rises to his feet and walks into his house to grab his neighbor a towel.

Charles laughs loudly and heavily as he sits himself in the other rocking chair on Larry’s porch, then sets his cane against the wall of his neighbor’s house. He’s dripping water all over the chair and porch, but the aging demon doesn’t care. Larry slowly emerges from his house, slow with age, as he hands the towel to his neighbor.

Charles takes the towel with slow, shaky hands, and starts to pat himself dry. “Yuh worry too much, Larry. I’m surprised it hasn’t killed yuh yet. Anyways, whadya wun me tuh see? Did one of dem whippersnappers try tuh fly usin’ hell-hawk fireworks ageen?”

“No, not this time,” Larry sits back in his rocking chair and claps a hand on his neighbor’s shoulder, pointing at the House of Lamentation. “Do you see that? All of that color? What do you think they’re doing?”

“Tryin’ tuh kill us all, that’s wut,” Charles complains as he pulls out a cigarette from one of his pants pockets and lights it.

“Do you think they’re performing some kind of ritual?” Larry asks as he gently rocks in his chair, staring at the array of colors glowing in the distance.

“That’s them that housed that human, yeah?” Charles asks in a puff of smoke.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe it died or somethin’ and they tryna bring it back, I dunno. And I do’n care,” Charles starts choking and coughing on his own cigarette smoke, his old lungs being unable to handle it. “I do’n have many years left in meh, neighbor.”

“Don’t say that, Charles! You’re still as prime as when you died.”

That gets Charles to laugh, but it’s more of a long wheeze rather than an actual laugh. “Sure, yuh keep thinkin’ that La–”

The conversation is immediately cut short as a loud explosion sound comes from the House of Lamentation. There’s a bright flash of color before all the colors immediately disappear and are replaced by the color blue. The entire House glows blue with a very angry aura surrounding it. The whole House is so bright with blue light that it might as well look like a circus. Ancient scripture can be seen but not read on the blue House before the blue eventually fades away and the House returns to normal; the mirage of colors do not return in the windows.

Meanwhile, back in Asmo’s ensuite, every demon is sprawled out somewhere in Asmo’s bathroom after being thrown back by the explosion. Mammon is impaled into the ceiling by his horns, Levi landed in the bathtub, Asmo is gripping onto one of the columns that surround his bathtub for dear life, Satan is halfway through Asmo’s mirror, Beel was thrown into the back wall - cracking it upon contact, and Belphie is hanging from the chandelier. The room is filled with black smoke from the clash of magics, but it’s slowly dissipating through the House’s ventilation system.

Levi coughs a few times, getting black smoke out of his lungs. “That didn’t work,” he says quietly in a hoarse voice.

“Clearly,” Asmo groans as he slowly slides down the column to land on his feet elegantly. He sighs deeply as he looks at all the destruction that’s been strewn in his ensuite.

Beel stands up with a groan from across the room, some cracked marble pieces falling off his shoulders as he stands. “Is everyone okay?”

Satan groans loudly as he slowly crawls out of the mirror without cutting himself. There are some tiny glass splinters in his hair that will take a very long time to get out without hurting himself. “I’m going to kill Lucifer. I swear, I’m honestly going to do it.”

“Can somebody please help me!” Mammon cries as he flails about trying to free his horns from the ceiling.

Levi laughs at his brother’s shortcoming as Asmo scolds the Avatar of Greed for “further ruining his beautiful ensuite with his ugly horns.” Beel catches Belphie as he drops down from the chandelier. Belphie sits on Beel’s shoulders as the twins try to pry Mammon free from the marble ceiling. Meanwhile, Satan is watching the whole scene with an inquisitive look on his face.

“Satan! Aren’t ya gonna help ya brother!” Mammon shouts as Belphie tugs at the second-born’s dangling legs.

“Actually, you just gave me an idea, Mammon,” Satan chuckles with a dark look on his face.

“Oh no, I don’t like that– GYA!” Mammon’s sentence is cut off as he is suddenly freed from the ceiling falls to the floor with a heavy thud. “Ouf! Oy, Beel! Why didn’t ya catch me!?”

“Sorry, Mammon. But I didn’t want Belphie to fall off my shoulders.”

"Lucifer is definitely going to find out about this," Levi mutters as he surveys the wrecked ensuite.

"Well of course he's going to know about it!" Asmo yells in distress. "Look at what you heathens have done to my sanctuary!"

“We’ll fix it later, Asmo,” Satan says as he starts walking towards the exit with the eyes of his brothers following him. “But Mammon, you might have just given me an idea on how we can get out of here.”

Mammon gives Satan a puzzled look as he sits up, but quickly shows an expression of fake, cool confidence. “Well, uh, of course I did! I’m the Great Mammon, after all! So, uh, what’s your idea?”

Satan turns to face his brothers with a dark and wide grin, making his fangs ever prominent. “Come on, we need to go back to the entrance hall,” Is all he says before walking out of Asmo’s ensuite.

The other five brothers look at each other with confused glances before scrambling after Satan. Everyone eventually ends up in the entrance hall, still in their demon forms. Satan is already there, studying the door.

“So, what’s this plan you were talking about?” Levi asks.

“It’s quite simple, actually,” Satan starts to explain without turning to face his brothers. “We can’t touch any window or door that leads to the outside; so simply unlocking the door and walking out won’t work. And magic doesn’t work either,” Satan finally turns to face his brothers with that same dark smirk still on his face. “But we haven’t tried brute force yet.”

Beel turns his gaze to the floor and holds one of his wrists anxiously. “I am not punching through a magic door.”

Satan chuckles a little. “That’s fine, Beel, I wasn’t going to ask you too. Because Mammon is going too.”

The second-born nearly chokes on his own spit as he looks at Satan with frantic eyes. “What!? Me!? No way! I don’t even have as much strength as Beel! Why me?”

Satan sighs; why must his idiot brother me so damn loud all of the time? “You’re not going to punch the door, Mammon. We’re going to use you as a battering ram.”

“What!?” Mammon yells, slowly backing away from the fourth-born.

“It’s quite simple, really. Your horns - despite being small and flimsy looking - are pointy. That’s how you got stuck on the roof of Asmo’s ensuite. So, we’ll use your horns to break the door down.”

“By shovin’ my head into the door!? Oh no you’re not! No way! I don’t consent to this!” Mammon continues to yell. “Why not use Belphie? His horns are large and thick!”

“Mammon, you’d actually ram your youngest brother into a door?” Belphie sighs, closing his eyes and looking away in disappointment. “It wouldn't work anyway, because my horns sprout from the side of my head, not the top; you’d just be ramming my skull into the door, not my horns. It wouldn’t work.”

“Then why not Beel?” Mammon asks, trying to keep Satan’s attention off of himself.

“Mammon, you really think you could pick me up?” The Avatar of Gluttony groans.

"Well, uh, Satan! It was your idea, so you should be the battering ram!"

“Mammon, if you even touch me, I will hold you against this door until Lucifer’s magic cooks you alive,” Satan threatens, and with the angry flash of green across his eyes, he means it.

Mammon backs off some and averts his gaze to the ground. “Well, uh, let’s use Levi, then!”

Satan scoffs as if he’s just heard something stupid. “Levi? Seriously? Have you even looked at his horns?”

“Hey!” Levi objects in a rather meek manner, not having the courage to stand up for himself. Beel rubs his back as Levi slumps down in shame.

“Levi’s horns look like twigs, and they’ll probably snap like twigs if we even tried,” Satan finishes.

“But–” Mammon is cut off as a long appendage binds around his waist.

Mammon looks over his shoulder to see that he’s firmly in Belphie’s grasp. Belphie’s tail isn’t as strong or as long as Levi’s, but it’s still strong enough to grab onto things and bind them. And Belphie has got Mammon firmly in the grip of his tail, even if he doesn’t have the strength to lift him off the ground.

“Please just make this easy, Mammon,” Belphie says in an agitated sigh.

“No!” Mammon starts thrashing and flailing about, but he can’t pry his younger brother’s tail off of him. “You guys can’t do this to me! Don’t do it! It’s me, your precious older brother!”

“Mammon, you only play that card when you want something,” Levi complains in an equally agitated groan. Asmo just snickers at Mammon and everyone’s chiding of the second-born.

“Beel, please help me with him,” Satan sighs as he tries to get a grip on his thrashing brother.

Satan grabs one of Mammon’s arms as Beel grabs another. Belphie grips onto one leg and Levi takes the other. Together, the demon brothers lift the Avatar of Greed onto their shoulders and hold him like a literal battering ram.

“Asmo! Aren’t you going to help your dear ol’ brother!?” Mammon cries out to the only brother that isn’t holding onto him.

“Are you kidding? This is way too entertaining to stop!” Asmo laughs, pulling out his D.D.D. to record the whole thing. “This is going to go viral on Devilgram!”

“Mammon, keep your head down!” Satan shouts, grabbing a tuft of Mammon’s white locks and forcing his head to be parallel with the floor, aiming his horns directly at the door.

“On the count of three, we charge at the door!” Satan commands.

“Don’t do this! Guys don’t do this!” Mammon continues to plead.

“One,” Satan starts counting.

“Save me! Somebody please save me!” Mammon starts flapping his wings about rapidly.

“Mammon, you’re going to poke somebody’s eye out!” Belphie yells back at his brother.

“Two.”

“HEEEELLLLP! LUCIFEEERRRR!”

“Mammon, the tips of your wings are pointy, please stop scratching me with them,” Beel asks calmly, but he’s barely heard over Mammon’s yelling.

“THREE!”

Satan, Beel, Levi, and Belphie all charge forth with mighty battle cries. Mammon’s high-pitched screams stand out the most as he’s charged towards the door, his head kept in place by Satan.

Mammon feels his horns make contact with the door, and when he thinks they might have somehow penetrated through Lucifer’s magic, a very angry flash of blue lightning shoots through Mammon’s horns into the rest of the body. All of Mammon’s veins flash blue and become visible under his skin as the Avatar of Greed howls in pain; his muscles convulsing uncontrollably. His brothers immediately drop him as the second-born seizes on the ground wildly.

“What do we do!?” Levi asks with panic in his voice.

Beel holds onto his brother in a tight bear hug to try and get him to stop convulsing and further prevent him from getting hurt. Mammon is practically vibrating in Beel’s arms, his eyes are rolled back and he’s unable to form words.

“By the stars,” Asmo gasps, cupping a hand over his mouth and dropping his D.D.D. onto the ground. He’s holding back tears at the obvious pain of one of his brothers. Even if Mammon was annoying most of the time, even he did not deserve this kind of agony.

Eventually, Mammon stops seizing and his eyes slowly roll back into place. Drool drips out of his mouth as the smell of smoke starts to fill the room.

“Woah, Mammon literally got fried,” Belphie says in an almost amazed tone of voice.

“Mammon, are you okay? Can you hear me?” Beel calls out to his brother while lightly tapping the side of his face.

Mammon’s demon form slowly dissipates as he looks up at Beel with unfocused eyes. “Beel…?”

Levi runs over to his brother with a glass of water. The Avatar of Envy had slipped away in the panic, but now he’s returned to help his brother. Without saying anything, Levi bends down and carefully brings the glass to Mammon’s lips. It’s a slow process, but Levi is able to get Mammon to take a few sips of water, even though he ends up spilling a little bit onto Mammon’s shirt and Beel’s arm.

“I always knew you secretly cared,” Mammon says in a very quiet and hoarse voice; it sounds like he lost his voice from all of the screaming.

“I-I don’t care about you!” Levi screeches, though a bright blush on his face betrays his words. “I just need you alive so I can get my Grimm back!”

There’s silence for a few moments as Mammon recovers and everyone catches their breath over what just happened. But the clicking of Satan's heels interrupts the silence. Everyone looks over to the Avatar of Wrath to see him staring at the still closed front door, though there are two little indentures where Mammon’s horns had made contact with the wood.

“Well, that didn’t work,” Satan says in a disappointed tone.

“I nearly died and that’s your biggest concern right now!?” Mammon tries to yell, still in Beel’s arms, but his voice is too sore to project the correct noise level.

“Yes, Mammon,” Satan turns around to glare at his brother. “I am concerned that we still haven’t opened the door to get to MC.”

“It seems like Lucifer’s magic gets fiercer every time we try to breach it,” Belphie says, trying to quickly change the subject and prevent Satan from going into a wrathful fit.

“We probably could have made it if Mammon’s horns weren’t so disappointing and small,” Satan shoots back over at Belphie.

“What did ya say!?” Mammon tries to shout again. Beel rubs the second-born on the back to try and get him to calm down.

“Mammon, no shouting, you need to rest,” The sixth-born scolds lightly.

“Satan, this isn’t working! If we try again, someone might actually die!” Belphie says in a slightly angry voice as he glares at Satan.

“We’re just not trying hard enough!” Satan shouts back, as he starts losing himself to his sin.

“Guys! Don’t fight!” Asmo yells, stepping in between Belphie and Satan to keep them at arm’s length of each other.

Satan can’t help but notice Asmo’s sharp and somewhat thick horns. “Asmo, you’re next,” is all he says as he grips onto his brother’s arm.

“What!?” Asmo starts beating and scratching at Satan’s hands. “You are not charging me at that stupid door! You’ll kill me!”

“We have to try!” Satan shouts, tightening his grip on Asmo’s arm.

“Satan, let go!” Levi cries as he runs over to Asmo.

Belphie and Levi help pull Satan’s grip off of Asmo by prying off his fingers and scratching his hand. Once Asmo is free, the fifth-born immediately runs away into the bowels of the House.

“Get back here!” Satan shouts as he pushes Levi and Belphie off of him and charges after Asmo.

“Satan, get a grip!” Belphie shouts as he and Levi chase after the Avatar of Wrath; Beel and Mammon are not too far behind them.

“Help! Lucifer! Satan’s gone crazy!” Asmo shouts as he runs through the House, trying to get away from his brothers.

"̸̨͇̘͔̜̟̣͙̘̠̖̩̰͋͊̃̀͋̏̃͑̿A̵̞̻͙̖̥͓̠̹̮̮̍̈͗͆̐͜S̴̨̻̱̰̝̲̘̼̘͇̮̭͊̈̌̃͐̓͂̽̐́̋̆͝ͅͅM̷̨͙̰͎̘̤̟͓͚̓͊́͛̒̄̈́̂̂Ơ̶̥͚̮̪̼̺̯̇̅̏͘ ̸̢͉̈̀̊̊̍͐̅̆͒́̀̏̕͠S̶͈͉̾̃̀̓̌̾̃̒͐Ṯ̴̨͎͉̓́̀͌̐̒̽̽̀̿͝͠͝Ȏ̸̹̂P̴̢͓̗̺͔̼̎͌̀͐͗̍͑̎͊̒͝͠͠ ̴̧̡͎̟͍͍́̌̾͋͆͐͂̍͊͐̈̀̕R̷̞̉̈́̑̋̐̏̕̕͝Ȗ̷̪̻̣̈́́̏̂̔̊͜N̵̪̜̤̳̎N̶̗͕̞̏̎̓̓̇̔̀͆͂̽̚̕I̶̖̗̺͓̟̞̖̰͍͓̔͌͋̍̀̆͌̈̍̋̚ͅN̶̡̹͓̘̮̭̟̺̳̭̘̄́̏̂͐̍̊͑͑̕̕͜͜G̴̖̻͔̭̼̺̳̭͖̖̈̍̅́̄͒̎̓̀!̵̨͕̖̼̠̰̲̹̱̙͆̒̈́̐̑͛́̈́͘"̸̛̹̟͈̤̘̻́͑̑̈̈͂ Satan shouts in angry Infernal.

“Satan, stop this!”

“Keep running, Asmo!”

“Somebody catch Satan already!”

“Satan, you’re better than this!”

Asmo can hear the cacophony of his brothers’ cries behind him, but he’s too focused on trying to get away to tell which voice belongs to who.

Asmo bursts through the door of the common room and finds Lucifer leisurely resting on one of the couches. His glasses are perched on his nose as he holds a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. The first-born’s crimson eyes slowly and lazily look up to meet the fifth-born’s honey-colored irises.

“Oh, Lucifer! I’m so happy to see you!” Asmo shouts, bounding over to his brother. “Please, help me! Satan’s lost it!”

Satan quickly runs into the room with Levi, Belphie, and Beel trying to hold him back. “ASMODEUS!” Satan shouts as his eyes glow bright green.

Lucifer sighs and sets down his book and tea, he also folds up his glasses and puts them in one of his pockets. “What is going on here?”

“Satan is trying to kill me! What else does it look like!?” Asmo shouts in a panicked voice, cowering behind the eldest.

“All of this is your fault!” Satan shouts while glaring daggers at Lucifer. Infernal magic radiates from the Avatar of Wrath, which turns the flickering flames in the fireplace green.

Lucifer stares down at his younger brother, his eyes cold and unamused. “What does any part of your pathetic squabble have to do with me?”

That makes Satan snap. He throws off his brothers and lunges at Lucifer, teeth gnashing and tail thrashing. But Lucifer is faster. The first-born immediately reveals his own demon form and uses magic to catch Satan in the air before throwing him roughly into the ground.

“Gaw!” Satan cries out in pain as he feels a few floor boards of the House break under him.

“I assume this is about the spell I’ve put on the House?” Lucifer asks coldly, not taking his eyes off of Satan.

“How did you know?” Mammon asks in his still damaged voice, as he finally walks into the common room with everyone else, obviously out of breath from trying to keep up.

“Tsk. You didn’t think I would notice?” Lucifer scoffs. “You didn’t think I’d feel every attempt where the six of you try to tamper with my magic seal? Or how I wouldn’t hear all the noise you’ve been making all morning? And how in the Devildom were the six of you going to cover up your little stunt in the entryway?” Lucifer’s voice grows colder and angrier with every word he speaks.

“Well maybe if you and Diavolo would have let us go see MC, none of this would have happened in the first place!” Mammon blurts.

“Yeah! You say you care about her, but your actions say otherwise!” Belphie adds, taking a stand for himself.

“You made us do this, Lucifer,” Satan snarls, slowly rising from the small hole in the floor and dusting off bits of dirt and wood off of himself.

“Don’t you dare question me or my decisions,” Lucifer growls.

“We’re not going to let you hold us back anymore!” Asmo speaks boldly, moving to stand alongside his brothers, opposing Lucifer.

“Or keep us in the House like caged animals!” Levi adds.

“We’ve been patient, Lucifer. It’s time to act,” Beel states his own piece.

Lucifer glares at his brothers. “So, you all want it to be this way, do you? Well then, fine. Because none of you are getting your way, and none of you are l̷e̸a̶v̵i̸n̵g̸ t̶͍̖̏̇h̷͎̮̉ȉ̶̙s̴̙͛ Ḩ̷̮̩̫͈̘̿ȯ̸̧̢͎͖̹̲̟̤͂̆̓u̵̳̠̙̼͈̱̭̒͝ͅs̴̡̙̹̽̈́̓͝e̴̡̨̹̣͊̄!̵̢̗̬̣͗̋͒͛͜͠” Lucifer shouts, more of his words turning into Infernal as he speaks.

The light of the room immediately turns to a dark blue, the green flames in the fireplace also turn blue. The room is buzzing and vibrating with Lucifer’s Infernal magic as he pushes his influence out through the entire room. Electricity crackles through the air in blue sparks; simply breathing in the air of the room feels like breathing in static. Lucifer stands tall with his wings out on display, with small flecks of blue lightning dancing in between his fingertips. It’s not often for the Avatar of Pride to put on such a display. If the magic Lucifer put into the House can nearly kill a demon, then the real Lucifer himself can most certainly kill several demons at once.

But it’s still six versus one. Satan jumps out of the hole in the floor and joins his brothers, who are seething with their own mixed emotions. Anger, fear, worry; all rooted from the source of a deep and true love. Though they didn’t have as much physical influence on the common room as Lucifer, the six brothers together convulsed their own, unique form of Infernal magic.

Lights that hang overhead are shattered under the Infernal pressure, and small objects such as stray books and pillows start to float about under the intense influence of all of the Avatars’ Infernal power. The House of Lamentation was about to become a warzone.

“Lucifer, set us free!” Satan commands.

“I will do no such thing!” Lucifer roars.

“You can’t keep us from her any longer!” Mammon tries to shout, charging at Lucifer with his claws outstretched.

“For MC!” Asmo shouts as the remaining five brothers all charge at Lucifer at once.

Lucifer digs his heels into the ground, spreading his wings and his arms, preparing to counter an attack.

“You won’t keep me from her any longer!” Levi shouts, his orange eyes glowing brightly against the blue light of the room; his fangs are bared as he swiftly approaches the first-born.

“You had your chance!” Beel roars, fist ready to strike with Belphie not too far behind his twin.

Lucifer bares his fangs and lets out a tremendous roar that shakes the House and temporarily stuns his brothers with the shrill sound. Lucifer is very pissed off with his brothers at the moment, but in reality, he doesn’t want to physically hurt them. At least, not too terribly much. But to see all of his brothers turn on him at once is heartbreaking, but now is not the time to process such emotions.

“Lucifer, you’ve had your way for too fucking long!” Belphie shouts, his eyes glowing purple in anger. A nearby lamp shatters under his Infernal influence. “Ą̵͈̜̳́͐̆n̸͈̮̔͘d̴͎̿̈́ ̷̧̰͚͆͐f̵̠̩͔͗͗̑ͅr̶͔̆̔̂̈a̶͔͛n̷̤͒̃̎͠k̴͕͑͊̈́l̵̛̥̅ÿ̸͖̳̞͚́͘,̸̟̞̦̋̒ Ḯ̶̧͚̳̹̗̝'̷͚͕̯̪̮̈́̋m̷̤̠̄̌̽̉̀ ̴̫̤͍̺̱̊́͛͘f̴̖̬͚̼̟̤͌ų̷̛͔̳̙̒͜c̵̛̦͖̆̅͑̈́̽̚͝k̶̨͚͔̯̳̫̦͖̒́̒͆̈͐͝i̴͎̬͎̇n̴̹͔̭̤̅̃g̵̹̈́͜͠ ̶̛͙̻̬̞͈̥̖̕s̵̜̏̏͗̓͆͌͌͝i̷̖̥͕̲̬̓̾͗̊͋̈́̓̃ĉ̷͈̥̮̳͙̼̭͐̀̅k̸͓̼͂̈́̈́̉́̇̆͝ ̶͎͖͕͔͇͑̔̒̕ö̵̮̝̹͔̼͕́̇͠f̵̧͎͈̝͎̜̫̜͒͐͊͆͐̌̈̾ ̷̮͇̻̻̯͇̔͑̀̑́͛i̶̞͔͓̠̿͒͌͑̚t̵̠̪̺͚̥̑̇͗̒̉̃͝!̴̪̬͕̻̲̩͑̒́͌̕”

Belphegor charges at Lucifer like a beast. Lucifer flares his wings and prepares to lock horns with his brother before the doorbell suddenly rings through the house. Lucifer’s eyes go wide at the sudden intrusion of sound. On instinct, the first-born straightens himself, and catches his charging little brother with sturdy arms. Lucifer glares down at Belphie with anger and disappointment in his eyes as his demon form slowly starts to dissipate. Lucifer gently sets Belphie back onto his feet before glaring at the rest of his brothers with a quiet fury.

“All of you get a grip and behave!” Lucifer hisses as he goes to see who’s at the door. Although his words are addressed to his brothers, Lucifer knows those words are for himself as well, as he also needs to calm down and get a grip.

Lucifer, now out of his demon form, throws open the door so hard that he nearly pulls it off its hinges. Before him is none other than Solomon with a down trodden look on his face. The sorcerer is absolutely soaked to the bone by the storm. His hair is whipped all over his head and face and his white robes are heavy and dripping with absorbed water.

“Solomon? What are you doing here?” Lucifer asks, his anger suddenly being replaced with concern.

It was very peculiar for Solomon to look this defeated. The fact that he didn’t cast a spell to protect him from the rain also carries drastic weight. But what worried Lucifer the most was not seeing you in tow with the sorcerer.

“I need to talk to you; all of you,” Solomon says quietly. His voice is so soft that his words are nearly drowned out by the thunder and rain of the storm.

Lucifer says nothing as he steps aside and lets the sorcerer into the House. He also doesn’t make any remark as Solomon drips water all over the entry hall. Without looking at the eldest, the sorcerer immediately starts walking in the direction of the common room with haste.

When Solomon and Lucifer reach the common room, the room is thankfully still. The lights and fire have returned to their natural color, books and pillows are no longer floating about, the thrum of Infernal magic has dissipated, and all of the brothers are out of their demon forms. However, books, pillows, and broken glass is all over the floor, and the hole that Lucifer had accidentally made by throwing Satan into the ground is still present. But no one is concerned about any of that as Solomon walks to the forefront of the room, looking pitiful and worn out; a very strange and uncharacteristic look for the old sorcerer.

“Woah, Solomon, what happened?” Belphie asks as his eyes go wide with concern.

“And why are you drenched? You’ll catch a cold!” Asmo lightly scolds, carefully walking up to the sorcerer.

“Oh, yes, my apologies,” Solomon apologizes. “I didn’t mean to track water all over the House,” he looks up to Lucifer. “I will clean up my mess right away”

Solomon, using his magic, draws out all of the water in his clothes, in his hair, and on his skin into a single, floating ball of water. He sends out the ball of water to collect the water that he had accidentally dripped onto the floor. Once the now bigger ball of water floats back to Solomon, he floats the ball over to a nearby plant and makes it slowly rain itself on the plant. The ball of water shrinks until it’s completely used up and disappears. Solomon then finally turns back to the brothers, but his eyes are full of pain and his lips lacking his usual charismatic smile.

“Something happened, up in the Human World,” Solomon whispers, unable to use his voice out of fear it might crack.

“What happened?” Levi asks in a shaky voice.

“Did something happen to MC?” Beel asks.

“She—”

Mammon runs up to Solomon and tightly grips his shoulders before roughly shaking him. “Come on man, just spit it out!”

“Mammon, let him speak!” Lucifer scolds as he forcefully pulls Mammon back.

Solomon is obviously holding back tears as he stares at the ground, unable to meet everyone’s gazes. “Something happened to MC.”

“Please, just say it already, Solomon,” Asmo pleads, tears already forming in his eyes.

Solomon chokes on a sob. His shoulders slump as he squeezes his eyes shut, but a single tear manages to slip out and streak down his face.

...

“She’s dead.”

...

Silence. There is only silence in the common room. Nobody moves or makes any sound as Solomon’s words slowly sink in.

“She can’t be,” Asmo whimpers, his own tears slipping down his cheeks.

Levi silently breaks down and sobs in his spot as Beel holds a trembling Belphie.

“She… She can’t be! This is MC we’re talkin’ about! She can’t be dead!” Mammon shouts.

“She passed away not too long ago. I was there when she breathed her last breath,” Solomon speaks in between quiet sobs. “She is to be buried later this evening.”

A cacophony of screams and cries rattle the House as every demon breaks down and grieves. Belphie sobs hysterically into Beel’s chest as tears trickle down the Avatar of Gluttony’s face onto his younger brother. Asmo falls to his knees and sobs into his hands, his make-up streaming down his face. Satan stares at the floor with a dead look in his eyes as silent tears stream down his face onto the floor. Levi is curled into a ball, rocking back and forth as he sobs into his knees. Mammon is staring at Solomon in disbelief as his own tears fall.

“No, it can’t be. It just can’t be,” Mammon mutters over and over.

Lucifer is staring intently at Solomon, but it’s more like the demon is looking through the sorcerer rather than at him. His posture and face unchanging. Slowly, his stoic facial features melt away into determination that is disguised as anger. Lucifer, in a flash of light like the lightning outside, transforms back into his demon form and starts stomping towards the front door.

“Lucifer, where are you going?” Solomon calls out, wiping his tears away with his sleeve.

Lucifer turns back to the ground with anger in his posture, but determination in his eyes. “MC wouldn’t want to be buried in the Human World. She belongs here, in the Devildom, with all of us.”

“What are you going to do?” Satan asks meekly.

“I’m bringing her back to the Devildom, back home, where she belongs.” Lucifer turns back to the door and storms out of the House.

Strong winds and harsh rain pelt at Lucifer relentlessly. The rain dampens his wings and makes them heavy; the wind throws about his hair making it disheveled and out of place. Water droplets fall from his horns and reflect the light of the lightning flashes. But none of that bothers Lucifer, it doesn’t even slow him down as he marches towards the Demon Lord’s Castle. He mutters to himself in a quiet yet stoic and determined voice.

“It’s my turn, now.”

Chapter Text

A soft and slow breeze floats through the air, gently rustling the old trees outside of a small white chapel. A few vehicles reside in the chapel’s parking lot as the sun slowly starts to descend, painting the skies in vast oranges and blooming purples. The sun’s rays shine through the large windows of the plain chapel, illuminating the tears and faces of the grieving in the pews.

At the front of the chapel stands a very old and pale minister. The minister is dressed in a traditional white robe with a cross necklace around his neck, and a bible in his hands. His eyes look shut with how his old and wrinkled skin bags around his eyes. His somewhat long, white beard lightly brushes over the bible with the occasional shifting of his weight. He finishes his prayer to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ on the back wall before turning to address his flock of followers. A plain white casket rests silently to his side, with a picture of you standing adjacent to the casket.

“We gather here today to celebrate the life of our beloved, MC,” The minister groans in an old and used-up voice. “She was taken by us far too soon, and she will be greatly missed. MC brought a special kind of light and heart to anywhere she went; a gift that will not soon be replaced.”

A few quiet sobs break out in the pews as those who were close to you in life grieve over your death. The minister continues, “She was a beacon in the night for many people; a strong candle in a dark room. And even,” The minister groans as he reads the next part of your eulogy. “An ambassador of the Devildom.” He spits out the last sentence as if it were bitter poison on his tongue.

“As she left us with no will, she will be buried here, on the heavenly grounds of God’s chapel. May the angels watch over and guide her to the Celestial Realm.”

The minister opens his bible and flips through the pages to read some sermons and verses before your burial. But the minister is interrupted as the front doors of the chapel are rudely kicked open with a loud bang. One door is nearly knocked off of its hinges as the other is jammed into the drywall, cracking the wall itself. All eyes turn to look at the shadowy figure who is silhouetted by the setting sun’s rays.

The beast’s silhouette consists of foul, twisted horns and four seraph wings protruding from its back. The creature is so tall that it has to duck its head to get its horns through the doorway. The people in the pews cry and scream in terror; wives take comfort in their husbands’ embrace as children hide in their mothers’ shoulders.

The hulking beast of a man slowly strides into the chapel, the heels of his boots making audible clicks as he slowly walks up to the minister. Many people take the opportunity to run out of the chapel and get away from the demon as fast as possible. The minister doesn’t even flinch as Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, the first fallen angel, the Morning Star, stands above him; nearly twice as tall as the petite old man.

“Your kind does not belong in this world,” The old man spits, glaring daggers up at the demon.

“You have someone I want,” Lucifer spits back with just as much venom.

“She does not belong to filth like you!” The old man yells. With surprising speed, the minister grabs a bottle of holy water from one of the pockets in his robes and flings its contents at the demon.

A soft hissing sound can be heard as the holy water lands on Lucifer. It burns and sizzles at his attire and flesh. A patch of his black suit burns away to reveal a small burn on his pale skin from the holy water, but it does little to deter the demon. His black-red eyes glow a dark crimson with rage. Lucifer picks up the minister by his throat and pins him against the back wall of the chapel with such force that the light fixtures on the ceiling audibly jingle.

“G̷̹͗͐͠i̵͉̎̏͛v̵̭͎͖̈́̊̊ę̷̉ ̴̼̺̬͆h̶̥͉̄̾é̸̢̨̬ȓ̶̖̲̱ ̶̘̪͐t̴̼̜̞͋o̶͉͛͠ ̸̳̂̓̑͐m̵̙͓̗̰̓ẹ̴̛̻̀́̅!̷̡͈̂̚” Lucifer hisses in Infernal.

“I will not! She belongs to the Lord, foul traitor!” The minister spits in between gasps of air within Lucifer’s chokehold.

“She belongs with me!” Lucifer forces himself to drop the minister from his grasp instead of throwing him out of a window.

If the minister won’t hand you over, then the Avatar of Pride will take you himself. Lucifer walks over to your closed casket. His anger immediately disappears and his eyes stop glowing as he catches his reflection in the shiny white paint. A red, gloved hand gently caresses your casket as a single tear drop falls onto the painted wood. Lucifer swallows his sorrow and straightens himself.

“I’m bringing you home,” he whispers softly to your casket as he picks it up bridal style.

Lucifer folds in his wings and slowly starts walking out of the chapel with your casket, being very careful to keep the casket perfectly balanced and well-handled.

“Stop! I won’t let you take her!” The minister shouts, reaching in his robe once again. “By the power of the good Lord above, I will not let you take her!”

The minister brandishes a sharp silver blade with the Christian cross carved on the butt end of the handle. On shaky legs, the minister charges at the demon.

But all at once, all of the windows in the chapel shatter, causing a deafening wave of sound that temporarily stuns the minister. The shards of glass immediately take to the air and charge at the old man. But before they pierce his skin they halt in mid-air. The glass shards float around the minister, catching and reflecting the last rays of the setting sun, as most of the sky outside is now purple. Lucifer stops walking, but he does not turn around to face the minister.

“Y̵̯͚̤̌͆̂o̶̩͘ṳ̷͍̻̎̇͘r̸̛̥̠̜̍̂ ̸͚͚̟͉̈̌̽̚p̴̛͚̙̱͈͂i̵͔̦̲̊͗̑t̸̢̋͊̐ǐ̸̖̊͜f̶̫̈́u̵̼͚͆͌ľ̶̛͍̠̥͇ ̸̳̲͒̃̏G̸̛̹̹̘̕͘o̴͎͉̜̞̅̇͝d̷̗̗̭̃ ̶̧͔̝̱͝h̴̗̭̺̊̌̾͠o̵̭̐̂͑l̸̰͊́d̵̠̩͑̍s̵̰̣͈̾̃ ̶̨̭͈̾͋̊͘n̴̤̽͗ǫ̸̈́̊̔ ̵̯͂m̶̡͈̟͂̂͗ơ̷̫r̴̙̋̀́e̶̛͔̦͉̊̑̄ ̵̪͎͊̓̇͛p̵̬̩͎̓̈́o̶̞̞̿ẉ̸̡͎̫̈́̇͠e̷̡̹͖͌̑͘͜r̷̠̤͑ ̸͙͓͔̋͌o̷̗͛͒̉͝v̸̮͚̬̏̌̓e̵̢̓̔̑r̵̤̰͒̋ ̸̡̨̬́̇͌̅m̵͇̬̘̏ē̶̥̦͒̆,̵̩̪͆” Lucifer scolds in a light Infernal tone, before walking out of the chapel.

The door that isn’t slammed into the wall slowly creaks closed as Lucifer uses his magic to close the door behind him. Once Lucifer is off chapel grounds, the shards of glass fall lifelessly at the minister’s feet.

The minister looks at the glass all around him and sighs. The chapel is a complete mess that would take a small fortune to repair. And it’s highly unlikely those that witnessed a literal demon in a place built for God would return for worship.

The minister returns to the spot where your casket once was, and looks up at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ up on the wall. The minister gets onto his knees and begins to pray. “Father, please help our lost little lamb return to the way of your guiding light. Please send your strongest angels to save her from the grasp of hungry, twisted, and selfish demons. Amen.”

Back in the Devildom, Lucifer steps out of the portal with your casket resting in his strong and steady arms. The storm outside the Castle continues to rage on. Diavolo and Barbatos stand at the doorway of the portal room, their faces stern and upset. At least they’re not also in their demon forms.

“Lucifer,” Diavolo greets, his normal warmth not currently present in his voice.

“Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer greets back, slowly striding up to the demon prince.

Diavolo can see your casket in his peripheral vision, but he refuses to look at it directly, or avert his gaze away from the first-born. “Did you travel to the Human World, Lucifer?”

“I did.”

“And for what reason? What reason was so urgent that you could not ask me first?”

Lucifer is now directly in front of Diavolo. The only thing keeping the two apart is a tiny amount of free space and your casket. “I did ask you first, but you denied me.”

“So you went up there, knowing you were willingly defying my orders?”

“Just look at her, Diavolo!” Lucifer nearly yells as he gestures at your casket, his wings flaring in frustration. “She’s gone, and we could have prevented it!”

Diavolo finally looks down at your plain, white casket. He can see his reflection in the white paint, and he does not like what he sees. He sees a normally happy demon become filled with rage and frustration. But beyond that, he sees a casket, holding the body of a person he held close to him. Diavolo can’t help but let his eyes show his sorrow and let his shoulders sag. Diavolo closes his eyes, unable to look at your casket any longer, as a sniffle escapes past him.

“Why? Why didn’t you let us go?” Lucifer asks, his voice being filled with an almost feral desperation.

“I couldn’t,” Diavolo chokes out, his voice breaking and cracking.

“Why!? Quit beating around the bush, Diavolo, just spit it out!”

“Because demons cannot meddle in the affairs of humans and angels! Especially when it comes to life and death!” Diavolo cries loudly, tears pouring out of his golden eyes as regret and frustration fills his voice. “I knew something was wrong the moment I read your letter; I could feel it too. I sent notice to the Human World authorities, but without their consent, there was nothing we could have done,” Diavolo drops his gaze at the floor, wet tears falling onto the stone floor. “The Human World never responded. They didn’t want us to get involved.”

“But we have her now. She belongs here. You and I both know she would have rather stayed and be a full-fledged citizen of the Devildom,” Lucifer tries to reason.

Diavolo pulls out a handkerchief out of his red RAD coat and dries his tears. “I know, I think we all know that. But without the official documentation, there’s nothing we could do.”

“My Lord, might the humans try to lay siege on the Devildom to bring her back?” Barbatos asks.

Diavolo sighs. “I don’t know. They may very well could. But they might also not. It depends on the Human World’s current politics.”

“This might damage relations,” Barbatos says in a slightly agitated tone towards Lucifer, but the Avatar of Pride doubles down.

“She would want her eternal resting place to be here, in the Devildom, with all of us.”

“I am perfectly aware of that, but the Human World will likely not see it that way,” Barbatos argues back.

“Enough,” Diavolo commands, holding up a hand to silence the two demons. “Whatever is going to happen, will happen. We will deal with the Human World when or if they come knocking for MC. But until then,” Diavolo looks back down at your casket and coughs awkwardly to choke back a few sobs. “Until then, we will give our MC a proper Devildom burial. She will remain here in the Castle overnight. We will hold a traditional, royal funeral tomorrow morning once the storm has passed.”

Barbatos’ eyes go wide as he looks over at Diavolo. “My Lord, a royal funeral?”

Diavolo turns around to face his butler and claps his hands on his shoulders. “Barb, for five minutes, please stop being my butler and just be my friend. MC has done so much for the Devildom and our relations with the other realms. Though, yes, things might be a little tense right now. But if trouble does arise, I am very certain we can handle this diplomatically. And on top of that, Lucifer is right. She would want the Devildom to be her eternal resting place. The least we can do is fulfill her final wish.”

Barbatos doesn’t say anything at first, but even he too eventually sags under the weight of the situation. “Yes, you are right. I’m sorry, Diavolo.”

Diavolo gives his friend a small smile and finally chuckles a little bit. “That is alright, my friend. You were only performing your duty,” Diavolo finally turns back around to address Lucifer. “Lucifer, my dear old friend, does this arrangement sound okay with you? Will your brothers agree to hold a royal funeral for MC?”

Lucifer finally also smiles himself. “Diavolo, we couldn’t have asked for a better service for MC. Thank you.”

“No, Lucifer, thank you; for bringing her back where she belongs,” Diavolo finally shows his iconic wide smile, though the sadness is still obvious in his body language. “We’ll keep her here overnight and do the proper preparations for tomorrow. I assume I can trust you to relay everything to your brothers tonight?”

Lucifer nods curtly. “They will have their own necessary preparations for tomorrow ready by morning.”

Diavolo chuckles again. “Excellent.”

The three demons stand there in awkward silence for a few seconds. Eyes dart across the room, not wanting to make direct eye contact with anyone. Diavolo is the first to break the silence.

“Umm, Lucifer,” Diavolo mutters awkwardly, fiddling with his hands. “We, uh, kind of need…” Diavolo does not want to outright say that he needs your casket, and Lucifer obviously does not want to let it go as he brings it closer to his chest. Diavolo sighs as he looks at his friend with earnest eyes. “You know we’ll take care of her.”

“I know, it’s just…” Lucifer’s eyes don’t leave Diavolo’s, but his words are stuck in his throat. He takes a deep breath and smooths out his frustrated facial features. “It’s just difficult to see her leave me again.”

Diavolo nods in complete understanding, his eyes are nothing but soft. “I understand, I think we all feel that way right now.”

Diavolo stands there silently, giving the first-born all the time he needs to part ways with you once more. After a minute, Lucifer finally hands your casket over into Diavolo’s waiting arms, who takes it with great care and gentleness.

Diavolo smiles and opens his mouth to say something, but he nearly chokes on his own air as he notices the hole in Lucifer’s clothes, revealing a nasty burn.

“My friend, what happened?” Diavolo asks with obvious concern.

Lucifer steels his face and covers the wound with a gloved hand. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, please don’t lie to me, I’ve already seen it, Lucifer. Now tell me, what happened?” Diavolo asks in a slightly more demanding tone.

Lucifer tisks but does not avert his gaze. “A pitiful minister thought he could stop me by splashing some holy water on me. But it’s fine, Diavolo; I’m fine.”

Diavolo gazes at the Avatar of Pride with concerned eyes before turning his head towards Barbatos. “Barbatos, please fetch me some burn salve.”

“Right away, My Lord,” Barbatos answers before swiftly walking out of the room.

Lucifer growls in annoyance. “Diavolo, I don’t—”

“Lucifer, don’t,” Diavolo commands the eldest with a mixture of annoyance, concern, and dominance. “You are my friend. Let me take care of you. I know you’re used to being the one to take care of others, but for once, please just let me do something for you!”

Lucifer glares at the young prince for a moment before finally looking away and sighing. He drops his hand from his burn. “Fine. If that is what you really want.”

“It is,” Diavolo answers as Barbatos walks back in the room with a jar of burn salve in his hands.

The butler hands the precious ointment to Lucifer, who takes off a glove with his teeth to apply it. Lucifer grunts as the salve makes contact with his injured flesh, but his discomfort is immediately replaced by a cool, soothing sensation. Lucifer seals the salve and pockets it before putting his glove back on. When he looks up again, Diavolo is giving him his usual, beaming smile.

“We will see you in the morning, dear friend,” Diavolo speaks softly.

“Please take good care of her,” Lucifer says quietly as his demon form slowly starts to slip away.

“We’ll make sure nothing happens to her,” Barbatos says with genuine care as he finally smiles himself.

Lucifer looks at the two royal demons before finally giving a small nod. He gives your casket one last glance of acknowledgement before quickly averting his eyes. The first-born sighs as he walks out of the portal room to start the long and wet walk back to the House of Lamentation.

The doors of the House slowly creek open as Lucifer steps inside, dripping water all over the entrance. He’s absolutely soaked to the bone. The eldest notices the House is eerily quiet, the only think he can hear is water dripping off his clothes onto the ground. Lucifer sighs; he needs to find his brothers, but he also doesn’t want to drag water everywhere.

Lucifer walks to his room, dragging his heavy, water-filled fur jacket on his shoulders. He opens the door to his room and grabs some fresh clothes from his closet. He would love a hot shower right now, but that would have to wait until later. Lucifer disrobes himself in his personal ensuite, hanging up his drenched clothes on whatever he can, before putting on some silken pajamas. Lucifer dries his hair with a towel and tries to put it back into its natural style, but his damp hair just flings itself in his face whenever he tries to fix it. Lucifer huffs in the mirror – he almost looks like Satan with such messy locks. Lucifer ignores it for now and drapes himself in a soft and fluffy black robe before leaving his room and looking for his brothers.

Lucifer finds his brothers where he had left them – in the common room. They’re all huddled on the couches around the fire, along with Solomon. They’re all draped in blankets with steaming cups in their hands, likely tea. Belphie is snoozing against Beel’s chest, but everyone else has a dead look in their eyes as the air hangs heavy with sorrow.

Solomon is the first to notice the reappearance of the first-born. “Lucifer, where had you gone?”

“To the Human World,” Lucifer answers plainly, trying not to make a fuss of the situation, even though he knows his brothers will do that for him.

Beel looks over at Lucifer. “You mean, you actually went to the Human World?”

“Without Lord Diavolo’s permission?” Asmodeus adds.

Lucifer sighs, his eyes turning down to the floor. “Yes, I went to the Human World, without Lord Diavolo’s permission.”

Mammon leaps out of his blanket and clings onto Lucifer’s robe, a frenzied look in his eyes. “Did ya find MC!? Is she okay!?”

Lucifer feels his heart shattering in his chest all over again. Of course, it would be Mammon that would hold onto hope that somehow, someway, you were still alive.

With very gentle and loving hands, Lucifer moves some of Mammon’s frantic white hair out of his eyes. “I’m sorry, Mammon. But she’s gone.”

“She can’t be! Ya just lyin’ so ya can keep her all to yourself!” Mammon shouts and pounds on his brother’s chest as fresh tears fall from his eyes.

Lucifer gently sets his brother down onto his knees and then himself, keeping himself eye-level with Mammon. “She’s gone, Mammon. She’s really gone.” Mammon opens his mouth to object, but Lucifer silently shushes by gently placing his finger over his brother’s parted lips, before continuing. “I saw her casket, Mammon. I carried her out of a chapel and back into the Devildom.” Everyone’s eyes go wide at the knowing that Lucifer willingly entered a place of worship to their Father, but Lucifer ignores them and continues, never dropping eye contact with Mammon. “There was no movement in the casket. No sound. She’s gone, Mammon, and she’s not coming back. But at least she is home now.”

Silent tears streak down Mammon’s face as a depressed silence hangs heavy in the air. Mammon’s face finally turns from disbelief into one of immense grief. Mammon collapses onto the ground as heavy and choked sobs rip out of his throat and echo through the room. Lucifer gently picks up his younger brothers and brings him into his chest, holding him in a tight embrace, as Mammon sobs hysterically into Lucifer's sternum.

Belphegor has woken up from all of the commotion, and he too, has fresh tears trailing down his face. Lucifer looks around the room and sees that everyone is crying once again, even Solomon. All of their eyes are strewn onto the ground. One by one, each of his brothers break out into their own sobs. Some are quiet, some are hysteric, some try to find comfort in each other’s embraces, and then there’s Solomon – staring down at the ground with wet eyes, as if he was seeing your dead corpse in front of him at this very moment.

Lucifer, unable to bear the intense misery around him, rests his head into Mammon’s fluffy hair, his own tears silently falling. This is too much, too familiar. It’s just like when they first fell and lost Lilith. Lucifer was the oldest, he was supposed to protect his family, protect those he loved. But he failed, again. He and his brothers lost their birth home, they’ve lost their only sister, and now they’ve lost their lover.

Cries and wails echo throughout the House for several hours. Eventually the House goes silent, as everyone is too exhausted to cry, and have run out of tears to shed. The only noises that are made are quiet sniffles, deep breaths, and the occasional crackle of the fire in the fireplace. Lucifer lifts his head and looks down at Mammon, who has passed out in his arms. Lucifer slowly positions his brother and lifts him into his arms before standing onto his feet. Lucifer quietly addresses the room before his departure.

“Lord Diavolo is holding a funeral for MC tomorrow. Please try and get some rest for the event, if you can. I expect all of you to behave and dress professionally and respectfully. Lord Diavolo is holding a traditional and royal funeral.”

Solomon finally looks up and addresses Lucifer. “A royal demon funeral? There hasn’t been one of those in ages.”

Lucifer nods. “It has been a very long time. I hope all of you remember the customs and traditions that we must partake in as the Avatars. If not, please study up on them.”

Lucifer bids his brothers goodnight before going upstairs and tucking Mammon into bed in his own room. Lucifer leaves a little note for Mammon on his bedside table, explaining the funeral in the morning, along with the dress code and the proper actions that must be done at the funeral. Lucifer quietly closes the door to Mammon’s room upon his departure before heading to his own room for a quick shower and a dreamless rest.

Chapter Text

A heavy sorrow lingered over the Devildom, as nearly every citizen gathered at the front gates of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Everyone was dressed in black, as your white casket was seated on a shrine built on the steps of the Castle’s entrance. A very tall and very old unlit brazier was set behind your shrine. Your shrine itself was adorned with a variety of lit colored candles in golden and bejeweled candelabras, with silken curtains as a backdrop. Seven smaller, unlit braziers were to the left and right of your casket. Nobody was allowed to walk onto Castle grounds to get close to your casket, as was tradition of a royal funeral.

So instead, for the citizens of the Devildom to pay their respects, a large altar was setup for you outside the front gates. Demons adorned your altar with gifts of candles, sweets, poetry, food, portraits, jewels, Grimm, books, precious jewelry, silks, drinks, homemade and handcrafted gifts, and other various and thoughtful gifts. Someone even brought an adorable, little pink sheep plush for your altar.

Demons gathered at your altar to pay their respects and thank you for all of your various acts of kindness in the Devildom, a few even thanked you for your very existence. Demons gathered in small clusters and talked quietly among each other. It had been centuries since the last royal funeral, and the first ever human funeral to be held in the Devildom.

But despite history currently being in the making, a certain someone was not present. Someone who would easily stand out among a large crowd of demons; Solomon. The great sorcerer was not present at your funeral. He had let Lucifer know the previous night that he would be absent.

“Why won’t you be there? She would want you there, Solomon,” Lucifer tried to reason with the sorcerer.

“No, I don’t think she would. Not after I let her down, and failed her,” Solomon whispered, trying to hold back sobs as tears rolled down his cheeks. He’s unable to look Lucifer in the eyes. “Please just give this to her,” Solomon says, handing Lucifer a jeweled pendant before rushing out of the House.

Lucifer watches Solomon leave with wild bewilderment. When the door closes behind the sorcerer, Lucifer looks at the pendant. The chain is real silver, and an iridescent diamond serves as the centerpiece. The diamond’s colors change and glitter as Lucifer holds it up to the light. He can feel magic course through the jewel, but what spell the jewelry is enchanted with is unknown to him, and he doesn’t feel like meddling with your gift, so Lucifer doesn’t investigate it. On the back of the silver holding on the diamond, a few words are engraved. But Solomon had tried to cover up the words by polishing and shaving the metal, making the words unreadable.

Lucifer had summoned his crow to hand the precious pendant to Lord Diavolo. Once the crow was at the Castle, Lord Diavolo personally set down the pedant on your altar, making it the first gift for your spirit. It was several hours later, that other demons started showing up to provide you offerings in troves.

The large crowd of mingling demons start to silence themselves as the Avatars march towards the front gates. Demons part way to make a path as the seven deadly sins slowly make their way towards the lawn of the Castle. They were walking one by one in a straight line, with Lucifer leading, followed by Mammon, then Leviathan, and going down the line of eldest to youngest. Each held a torch bearing a flame that was the respective color of their sin; Lucifer held a blue torch, Mammon a yellow torch, and so on and so forth.

Each brother was in their demon form with various medals on their shoulders to show their high ranking and accomplishments. They walked slowly with their heads held high, even though sorrow and grief was evident in their eyes. Tails were kept close to their respective bodies and wings were held high and proudly. Their horns were polished and their hair was neat. Except for Satan’s hair, which was always naturally messy.

Normally, for special funerals such as this one, only one or two of the brothers would show up carrying a torch. The whole torch ordeal is symbolic. It symbolizes that the person or demon who perished was of great importance, either to their respective sin or to the actual Avatar of the sin. But to see all seven of the Avatars together to honor a departed soul – that is not of royal demon blood – is the first time in Devildom history.

Each of the brothers walk up to their respective brazier that stand to the left and right your casket, before turning to face the crowd with their torches close to their chests. Asmo is sniffling and crying quietly, trying to keep it together as he faces the crowd. Beel gives him a gentle brush of his arm for support. It’s time to start the next part of the funeral and prepare for final goodbyes.

Lucifer holds up his blue torch for all to see. “I, Lucifer, Avatar of Pride, light this brazier in respect and honor for the departed – MC.”

Lucifer turns around and places his torch into the brazier. The torch is immediately eaten away as the brazier comes to life with large blue flames. Lucifer then turns back to face the crowd. Although it’s difficult to see, the first-born is biting the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from crying or making a face.

Mammon is next to hold up his respective torch. “I, Mammon, Avatar of Greed, light this brazier in respect and honor for the departed – MC.”

Mammon turns and drops his torch into the brazier, igniting a yellow flame that glows brightly. “I already miss ya, Treasure. I miss ya so much,” Mammon whispers into the flames before turning back to face the crowd.

Levi holds up his orange torch. “I, Leviathan, Avatar of Envy, light this brazier in respect and honor for the departed – MC.”

Levi turns around and drops his torch into the brazier, bringing forth a large, orange flame. Though he isn’t supposed to do this, Levi reaches into his pockets and pulls out a Ruri-chan key-chain. With one last look at the key-chain, Levi throws the beloved character into the fire. “Please don’t ever forget me,” he whispers into the flames before turning back to the crowd.

Satan is next to hold up his green torch. “I, Satan, Avatar of Wrath, light this brazier in respect and honor for the departed – MC.”

Satan turns around and gently drops his torch into the brazier. The brazier comes to life, bearing a beautiful green flame that nearly perfectly matches the hue of Satan’s eyes. “All paths lead to you hill-top or low, you are the white birch in the sun’s glow.” Satan whispers a poem by Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff into the flames. Satan turns back to the crowd, but his eyes fall onto the grass.

Asmo holds his pink torch up next, but the flame waivers in his shaky hand. “I-I, Asmodeus, Avatar o-of Lust, light this brazier in respect and honor for the d-departed – MC.” Asmo struggles to choke out the words between his quiet crying.

He’s swift to turn his back to the crowd and drop his torch into the brazier, igniting a lovely pink flame. Some of Asmo’s tears fall from his cheeks and sizzle in the flames. He wants to say something, speak how much he loves you into the flames so your spirit can hear him, but he can’t. Not without completely breaking down. Asmo turns back to the crowd, struggling to keep his wings from shuddering and his sobs from escaping.

Beel is next, and he raises his red torch high. “I, Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony, light this brazier in respect and honor for the departed – MC.”

Beel turns around and places his torch into the brazier. A red flame illuminates against the sixth-born, bringing out the purple in his eyes. “You’ll love the food in the Celestial Realm, MC,” Beel mutters into the flames with a sad smile before turning back around to face the crowd.

Finally, Belphie is the last to raise his purple torch. “I, Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth, light this brazier in respect and honor for the departed – MC.”

Belphie turns around to face his brazier and stares at his dark reflection in the pitch-black oil of the brazier; he does not drop his torch. Your loss is difficult on everyone, but it especially brings up inner turmoil inside Belphegor. He lost his sister to a human. He’s lost his favorite human. A human played a part in the starting of the Great Celestial War. Why do humans only bring him pain?

Belphegor sighs, letting go of his negative emotions; this is not about him right now. “Make sure you watch all of us from above, okay? I’m sorry for everything I’ve done,” Belphie whispers into his torch before finally dropping it into the brazier. A large purple flame blooms to life, joining the rainbow of active braziers. Belphie turns back around to face the crowd, his face is cold and emotionless.

The flames quietly flicker behind their respective Avatars. Each flame silhouettes the demon in front of it, making the Avatars look like shadow people to the crowd of demons. In the distance, loud metallic bangs, trumpets, and military drums can be heard.

Lord Diavolo and Barbatos walk out from behind the Castle in their demon forms, with a small group of golden-clad guards behind them. The guards are playing either military snare drums, trumpets, or banging their shields with their weapons on the down beats. Diavolo is carrying his own torch, but his flame is pure black, and it seems to be absorbing all of the light around it. This is Infernal fire, and it can only be found in the Devildom.

Barbatos and Diavolo stand in front of the Avatars and their braziers as the guards stay off to the side. Once the guards finish their ceremonial piece, they fall silent and take a neutral yet respectful stance.

Once silence hangs in the gardens of the Castle, Diavolo holds out his torch and releases it from his grasp. But the torch does not fall to the ground. Instead, it slowly rises into the sky with levitation magic, presumably Barbatos’ doing. The torch floats over to the large, unlit brazier, but does not fall into it.

“Thank you all for gathering here today,” Diavolo speaks, his voice echoing throughout the Castle grounds and the crowd. “We are all gathered here today to honor, celebrate, and give our final farewells to our beloved ambassador, MC. This special ceremony is usually only reserved for royalty, but we have all decided,” Diavolo gestures to Barbatos and the brothers, “that MC was worthy enough to receive the highest of honors that we can offer in death. We will first begin with the burning of the letters.”

Diavolo turns around to face the grand brazier as Barbatos takes a step back to give him some space. Diavolo snaps his fingers, causing the torch to fall into the grand brazier. Giant black flames immediately come to life with booming sound. The flames are huge in the grand brazier, making the brothers’ flames look small in comparison.

Diavolo pulls out a folded letter from the fur scruff around his shoulders and unfolds it. This parchment is very old, and was made for the sole purpose of important funerals. The burning of the letters tradition is more ceremonial than anything, but demons write the words they never got to say to the departed on pieces of ancient, specially made parchment, before burning it Infernal fire. The myth goes that doing this allows the spirit to hear the words that the demon had written down, no matter where they might be.

Diavolo looks over his own letter one last time before gently levitating it towards the brazier and dropping it into the black flames. The olden parchment is burned up almost immediately without leaving any ash or remnant of its existence behind. Diavolo steps aside and Barbatos does the same, burning his own personal letter to your spirit.

One by one, the brothers come up and have their letters levitated into the black flames. Once their letter is burned, each brother returns back at his respective brazier.

Once all the letters are burned, Diavolo speaks once more. “We will now merge the flames and prepare for the final farewell.”

Diavolo straightens his back, takes a deep breath, and points his hands out towards the brothers’ braziers. Connecting to their energy, Diavolo pulls the fire out of their braziers without extinguishing the flames. A rainbow mirage of colored fireballs fly around the Castle grounds before they all fly into the black fire at once. Twirls and twists of colors starts to flow through the black fire, creating a beautiful menagerie of sin. Diavolo gives everyone a moment to admire the beauty of the powerful fire, but also, to give the brothers time to collect themselves for what’s about to happen next.

Diavolo and Barbatos turn to the brothers, but Diavolo’s attention is on Lucifer as the two lock eyes. Lucifer gives a curt nod to Diavolo; he knows what he needs to do.

Lucifer silently brings his brothers together, shoulder to shoulder, as they prepare for the final portion of the funeral. Diavolo, Barbatos, and the brothers hold out their hands and gently lift your casket with magic. Gifts from your altar float overhead from demons in the crowd, ready to burn their offerings to you. Mammon accidentally sniffles loudly as he slowly lifts your casket into the fire. Every brother can feel their hearts breaking all over again as they push your casket into the colored black flames.

Lucifer finally allows his tears to silently fall. Mammon’s knees nearly buckle from under him, but Belphie is there to catch him and support his older brother as they watch your casket burn away. Levi whimpers a little as he watches your casket be eaten away by the fire. Satan nearly chokes on his own breath as he tries to hold back the flood gate of tears threatening to break free. Asmo doesn’t even care anymore as ugly and undignified sobs rip out of his throat without a care who sees or hears him. Beel isn’t trying to hold back as tears fall from his face as your casket disappears in the flames.

Once your casket is completely consumed by the flames, the gifts fly into the fire. Some offerings burn quickly such as precious silks and food, but other items like jewels and Grimm take longer to be consumed by the fire.

The crowd begins to sing a traditional song in Infernal that is to close out the funeral, pay their respects to the deceased, and give the grieving the time they need. But their song is rudely interrupted as the sky goes black, with dark clouds covering the moon and stars. A sudden and loud ripple of thunder roars through the Devildom, shaking the ground and the Castle. Bright flashes of lightning scorch the skies, threatening to strike on the funeral goers.

“What’s happening!?” Asmo yells at Lucifer.

More lightning and thunder makes itself known as the clouds twist and distort like smoke, until they warp themselves to make a hole in the sky. A great, huge ball of light pink fire comes crashing down from the sky with a horrible scream. It’s so bright that it can be seen clearly from the Castle, even though by the way of its trajectory, it’s going to crash on the other side of the Devildom.

“A mortal has just perished, and has been sent down here,” Barbatos says in a voice of awe, his eyes never leaving the pink fireball in the sky.

“Someone very important and powerful by the looks of it,” Diavolo adds, his eyes and posture unusually serious as he watches the fireball streak through the sky.

“A corrupt politician, perhaps?” Lucifer asks, striding up to the two royal demons.

“Who dares to interrupt MC’s funeral!?” Satan shouts at the fireball in the sky.

“Calm down, Satan,” Belphie says in an agitated tone. “There’s nothing we could have done to prevent this from happening.”

The fireball crashes into the ground with a loud boom. A small mushroom cloud of pink fire can be seen in the distance, indicating exactly where the massive fireball had landed. The sudden dark clouds and storm starts to dissipate, allowing the moon and stars to shine once more.

Diavolo claps his hands on the shoulders of Satan and Belphegor. “Come, let’s go meet our new resident. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

“In the middle of MC’s funeral!?” Satan shouts again.

“Her funeral is over, Satan,” Lucifer scolds. “We’ve done everything we can. All we can do now is hope she is happy, wherever she is.”

Satan wants to object, but Lucifer is right, as much as he hates to admit it. Their final duty was burning your casket, and now that the task has been completed, your funeral is pretty much over. The black, colored flames will be left to burn until the flames naturally extinguish, as that is the tradition.

Satan roars in frustration before stomping off to where the new demon has landed, with Diavolo, Barbatos, his brothers, and even some demons from the large crowd following suit.

The small parade of demons walk to the crater where the fireball had landed, it’s light pink flames still burning brightly in the basin it had created. There is definitely some property damage that will have to be taken care of, as nearby buildings are scathed and burned, while a few small houses were completely destroyed by the fireball. A pitch black figure can be seen in the middle of the crater full of pink fire, but the flames are still too hot to approach the new demon.

“What’s happening?” Mammon asks, intrigued by the black figure lying in the middle of the flames.

“Mammon, if you think that’s treasure in the middle of the crater, you’re wrong. It’s just the new demon,” Lucifer sighs.

When a mortal dies and gets sent to the Devildom, they fall out of the sky. For most new, common demons, they splat in the middle of the street and pick themselves up to start their new life as a demon. But if the person was influential and or powerful in life, then they would normally have a grand entrance in the Devildom to announce their presence – such as being carried down by a bolt of lightning, or in this case, a gigantic ball of fire.

“With how hot and bright the flames are burning, it could take hours before we can meet our new resident,” Diavolo sighs, disappointed.

“Probably for the best, my Lord,” Barbatos interjects. “It looks like their new body is still forming.”

When sinful humans are cast down to the Devildom, they become more powerful as demons. How much new power and magic they gain is based on how much they indulged in sin, and which sin(s) they partook in. Most who fall into the Devildom still look mostly human; only having horns or small patches of discolored skin. But in big cases like this, it takes time for the spirit to transition from human to demon, since they’re sins are converting into Infernal magic, which warps and changes the body to represent the primary sin that brought them here. It is very, very similar to metamorphosis. This crater of pink fire is like a cocoon for the dark figure in the center. The flames lick at the figure but do not burn them. Instead, the flames help the new demon grow out their new appendages, features, and Infernal powers. But it also serves to keep others out, as to not disturb the metamorphosis process.

“My Lord, what do you wish to do?” Barbatos asks, facing Diavolo.

The young prince is staring at the figure in the flames with an intense gaze as he ponders over some things in his head. “We will head back to the Castle for now and clean up the funeral. Like I said, it’s going to take hours for these flames to calm down, so let’s be productive until we can meet our new resident.” Diavolo turns to Lucifer with his signature large smile on his face. “Lucifer, can I trust that you and your brothers will be there with me to welcome our new resident?”

Diavolo’s words trigger a flashback in Lucifer’s mind. He’s back to when you just arrived in the Devildom; scared and confused. How he was so cold and rude to you upon your first meeting. He would not make that mistake again.

Lucifer snaps himself back to reality and nods to Diavolo. “Yes, you can count on us being there.”

Lucifer can hear some of his brothers groan from behind him. “Do we have to? I’m tired,” Levi complains.

“Yeah. We’ve had a long day. Can we just go home?” Belphie asks, yawning as he does so.

Lucifer turns to his brothers with a glare. “We have all had a long and painful day. But as Avatars of sin, we have certain responsibilities we need to attend to,” he hisses. “All of you are going to help with cleaning up the funeral and greeting the new demon.”

More groans of displeasure are heard, and Mammon mutters something under his breath about this ‘bein’ a waste of time,’ but with no other objections, everyone heads back to the Castle. The lesser demons who came with to see the new demon walk off to resume whatever they were going to do for the day.

The Castle courtyard is eerily quiet as everyone takes down your altar and shrine. The large brazier with the black colored fire will stay burning until it runs out of fuel, which will be for about a week or two. The brothers and royal guards take great care to treat your shrine and altar with respect, even though you’re long gone now. Decorative curtains and silks are taken down with great care to avoid ripping. Any offerings that were accidentally left behind like jewels and single pieces of Grimm were thrown into the black flames. The stage your casket sat on is carried away by several guards. Diavolo and Barbatos would be helping out, but Diavolo had to file the paperwork for a human funeral, both for the death records, and for if Human World forces came knocking about a stolen casket. Barbatos left to serve his master during his paperwork.

“This sucks,” Levi complains, watching the final remnants of your funeral be taken apart and put away.

“Now it really feels like she’s gone,” Asmo whimpers, his wings drooping sadly.

“Do you think we did the right thing by giving her a demon funeral?” Beel asks nervously, playing with his hands as a nervous distraction.

“For once, I think Lucifer is right,” Satan chimes in. “I genuinely do think she would be happy knowing the Devildom is her final resting place.”

The brothers sit in awkward silence as they watch their final memory of you be taken away. Lucifer is talking to the commander of the guards about something; his face gives away no details as to what they might be discussing. Belphie looks over at the sunken faces of his brothers, but notices that one of them is missing.

“Wait, where’s Mammon?” Belphie asks, whipping his head around to find their lost brother.

Everyone looks around themselves, but the Avatar of Greed is nowhere to be seen.

“That fucking idiot,” Satan swears in frustration.

“Should we go looking for him?” Beel asks.

“He’ll show up when he gets in trouble,” Levi snickers.

Then as if on a comedic cue, Mammon comes running through the front gates of the Castle, his wings swishing behind him. “Guys! I think we can meet the new demon now!”

“Are they ready to meet us!?” A voice shouts from above.

All eyes turn to look up at a demon hanging halfway out of one of the Castle’s windows; it’s Diavolo with stars in his eyes and a giddy look on his face. How the hell he heard Mammon from all the way up there is a mystery, but it’s obvious the young prince would rather be doing anything than filing your death papers. Diavolo disappears back into the Castle, presumably to come back down to rejoin everyone. Lucifer facepalms at Diavolo’s child-like energy.

“Mammon, why weren’t you here helping?” Belphie complains to the second-born.

“Simple – I didn’t wanna do it,” Mammon answers nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders.

“So, you just left us here to do your portion of the labor?” Asmo asks, angry and offended. His wings, though small, flare out dangerously.

“Woah, woah! Asmo! Reel it in! Ya guys did just fine without me!” Mammon says, awkwardly shuffling away from his frustrated brothers with his hands up as a sign of peace.

“Can all of you please behave, for once in your existences?” Lucifer huffs, approaching the group with a very happy Diavolo in tow. Barbatos also eventually walks out of the Castle with a tray of tea in hand.

“What’s the tea for?” Beel asks, secretly hoping it’s for them.

“It’s for our new guest,” Barbatos answers, shuffling the tray of tea away from the drooling Avatar of Gluttony. “It’s to welcome them to the Devildom, and to offer them refreshment after their rather heated fall.”

Beel looks away in disappointment, and Mammon looks away from Lucifer, hoping the eldest didn’t hear anything about him sneaking off. Though by the way Lucifer is glaring daggers at him, Mammon is already certain that he’s going to be punished later.

Once the demons arrive at the crater, the ocean of light pink flames have receded enough for them to actually walk into the crater itself. The black body in the middle has obviously changed, as a black wing awkwardly sticks out of the small pool of light pink flames the body still resides in. The flames lick at the body warmly and in a comforting manner, but are noticeably disappearing.

“Ooh, they’re almost ready!” Diavolo cheers like a child while doing a little happy dance. His golden eyes are nearly as big as stars.

The brothers and royalty watch as the flames completely disappear. The body and clothing is still completely black from the flames, but color slowly starts to emerge as the new demon cools down and completes their metamorphosis from human to demon. Even without a lot of color, everyone can see that the new demon has decently large, leathery black wings, and a thin tail with a pointed tip. Black, curled horns that look very ram-like protrude out from their hair.

The demons watch as color blooms to life in the new demon’s skin, horns, eyes, hair, and clothing. Mammon’s eyes go wide.

“Is… Is that…?” The second-born stutters.

“It can’t be…” Belphie mutters in his own surprise.

“Wait, is it actually…?” Asmo shoves his way closer to the body, trying to get a closer look.

“It actually is,” Lucifer whispers under his breath, his eyes going wide and his body going still.

“MC! It’s you! You're actually back!” Diavolo cheers as he runs up to your body and gives you a big bear hug.

Your vision is blurry and your sense of touch is numb. You can hear distant voices, and you can see fuzzy shadows run up to you and loom over you, one is even holding you. But you haven’t the slightest idea what is happening as your new body finishes its final developments.

“Give her space, Diavolo!” One of the shadow people shouts, pulling the shadow man who was holding you away from you. The shadow person who yelled has four strange, blurry appendages sticking out of their back.

But even though the shadow man who was holding you gets pulled off of you, you don’t hit the ground. Another shadow man is there to catch you. You look up, your new eyes slowly adjusting, and are able to recognize a mop of scruffy white hair atop the shadow man’s head.

Another one of the shadow people gasps loudly and dramatically. “Oh, my stars, look at her! She’s got pink accents! She’s one of mine!”

Your eyes have finally adjusted enough to be able to recognize fine details without them having to be right in your face. Colored eyes stare at you in a mix of wonder, amazement, happiness, and love. Your ears finally kick into full throttle as you hear footsteps get closer to you. You slowly turn your head to see a slim man get onto his knees beside you. He has beautiful green hair and green eyes.

“Hello again, MC. It’s so good to see you again,” The demon greets as he pours a cup of warm tea and hands it out for you to take.

Your hands are trembling as you slowly lift your arms to accept the gift. “Thank you, Barbatos,” You answer. Your new voice is hoarse and cracking to the point where your throat hurts just by speaking, but the warm tea quickly soothes your dry throat.

“Do you remember us, kitten?” A new voice asks as another demon gets in your face. This one has large horns, green eyes, and messy blonde hair.

You giggle a little, your throat not hurting as much now. “How could I ever forget you, Satan?”

“By the stars!” Satan shouts as he tackles you into a hug, even though you’re still in Mammon’s grasp. You have to catch your tea cup to prevent it from spilling on the fourth-born.

One of Satan’s horns jabs at Mammon as he hugs you. “Oi! Watch it Satan! That hurt!” But the Avatar of Wrath gives no care to his older brother, he doesn’t even acknowledge him.

“Give her some space,” A stern voice calls out as more footsteps approach, you look up; it’s Lucifer. “Satan, Mammon, please get off of her.”

Neither the Avatar of Wrath nor Greed bother to move away from you. You just got back to them, how could they?

“Everyone, please give her some space so that she can register what’s happening,” Diavolo asks in a much nicer tone than Lucifer.

Since he is the prince, Satan and Mammon reluctantly let you go, but not without a quick kiss on your cheeks. You suddenly feel cold as the two demons pull away, and your left lying in the cold crater. Diavolo gets close to you, but he doesn’t touch you. Instead, he just crouches down to your level.

“Hello again, MC. It’s so good to see you again. Do you know where you are? Do you know what’s happening?”

You give Diavolo a confused and puzzled look. “Yeah, I’m in the Devildom. Why are you asking me this?”

Diavolo gently places his hands upon your shoulders. “Do you remember how you got here?”

“How I got here…? What do you mean? I never left.”

The brothers look at each other with confused, bewildered, and concerned gazes. Diavolo squeezes your shoulders a little.

“MC, I need you to think back a little bit, okay? Do you remember when you left the Devildom?”

“When I left…?”

You close your eyes. You need to block out your senses, you need to think.

Digging through your memories is like dipping your hand into murky water, trying to grab something you can’t see. But slowly, you put your memories back together, piece by piece.

You can see it now. You were standing in the entrance hall of the House of Lamentation. All of the brothers are sad, a few even crying, as they come up to give their farewells and goodbye hugs. You promise them you’ll keep in touch.

They walk you to the Demon Lord’s Castle where Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Luke, and Solomon are waiting for you. The royalty and the angels bid their final goodbyes as you and Solomon walk through the portal to return home.

“Yes, I remember now. My year in the exchange program had concluded, and I had gone back to the Human World with Solomon. But if I went back home, then how am I back here?”

“Keep looking back. You’re the only one that has the answers right now,” Diavolo gently tells you. His touch on your shoulders is gentle, but there is solid determination in his eyes. You close your eyes again and think.

You had returned to the Human World and parted ways with Solomon. You had gone home and cleaned up your home since it was unattended to for a whole year. You spent the first week readjusting to the Human World, and just how bright and hot the sun was. Then you spent the next few days amending your relations with friends and family, and sharing all of your stories and experiences of the Devildom. You were looking for a job, and kept in touch with the brothers like you had promised.

After another week, you had gone clubbing with some friends you wanted to catch up with. But halfway through the night, you started to feel sad and weighed down. A feeling that was similar to homesickness. You missed the Devildom, and you missed the demons that resided there, even though you had only been home for about two weeks.

Clubbing was fun at first, but the clubs in the Human World did not have that spark of intensity or life, like the clubs in the Devildom have. It reminded you too much of when you went out with Asmo and Mammon, and it ended up just worsening your sudden sadness. So, you had told your friends that you were leaving early, and started to walk home. Except that you never made it home that night.

“I… I don’t understand,” You mumble. “I was in the Human World, but now I’m here. I don’t understand. Did one of you bring me here?”

Lucifer looks away at your question, but Diavolo is the one to answer you. “We’ll get to the specific details later. But technically, no, we did not bring you back here. Do you remember what happened?”

“What happened…?”

You close your eyes and try to keep digging through your memories. You can’t see anything, but you can hear it. A screeching of tires, a loud crash, sudden screams and shouts, a rhythmic beeping, someone calling your name, the gentle flap of wings, then a soft greeting. Then that’s it, that’s all you can recall.

“I-I can’t remember,” you stutter. “I don’t know what happened.”

Diavolo hums and looks over at Barbatos. “Please hand her the mirror.”

Barbatos has a solemn look on his face as he crouches back down to your level. He pulls out a hand-held mirror in his pocket and hands it to you. With shaky hands, you grab the mirror. But your hands, they’re different. Now that you’re more conscious, you can see it now. Your fingernails are painted a very light hue of pink, and they have a certain increased durability to them now, to the point where they feel heavy on your fingertips.

You slowly open the pocket mirror, now scared to see what else has changed. You gasp at your appearance. Decently sized, golden horns have sprouted from your head; they look eerily similar to the horns of a ram or other horned goat. A black tail has slithered out of your backside with an arrow tip, which is also pink at the end. Leathery, black wings hang off of your back with pink tips. Your eyes have grown vibrant with their natural color, giving them an illusion that they’re slightly glowing in the dim light of the Devildom. You drop the mirror from your shaky hands, and that's when you notice that even your feet have changed. Your feet themselves have receded some to provide a smaller but slightly wider platform for your new hooved feet. Instead of flesh, a hard and calloused golden keratin now make up the bottoms of your feet, and what was once your toes at one point in time. You almost start hyperventilating as you realize that you're stuck with this new body from here on out. You turn your frantic eyes to Diavolo.

“I’m a demon now!? How!?”

“I’m afraid that you passed away, MC.” Diavolo gently rubs your shoulders, trying to comfort you.

“But, but how!? How am I a demon!? What’s with this weird body and new body parts!?”

“We don’t know how your passing came to be, but we can at least explain your new body. You have the face and body shape of your human self, because that is what your spirit remembers. But you also have new Infernal features to show that you are now of demon blood.”

“And quite a powerful demon you’ve become,” Barbatos adds with a small smile on his face.

Diavolo nods in agreement with his own smile. “Yes, indeed. Your new features show just how powerful of a demon you’ve become. Most new demons are considered lucky just to have horns, but you have a pair of proud horns, with wings, hooves, and a tail to boot!” Diavolo chuckles a little.

“And she’s mine!” Asmo screams as he tackles you into a hug. He starts pointing out the pink highlights on your nails, tail, and wings. “She’s mine! Look! She bares the color of lust!”

A disapproving growl of jealousy can be heard from the other six brothers, though some hide it better than others. Diavolo just laughs happily.

“Yes, indeed! It is the sin of lust that has brought you here back to us! Now, where is your scroll?”

“My scroll?” You ask, confused. Asmo snuggles himself into your chest and you eagerly hug him back, though most of your attention is still on Diavolo.

“Yes, your scroll!” Diavolo answers happily. “It falls down with you upon entering the Devildom. It won’t tell us how you perished, but it will at least tell us why you’ve been brought to live out your spirit life in the Devildom.”

Suddenly, a golden ray of light beams down from the normally dark sky of the Devildom. “I might be able to answer that,” the ray of light speaks.

A shadow can be seen in the ray as a figure descends from the bright light. You strain your eyes to make out the winged figure as it slowly descends from the light. But that fluffy hair and cape, you’d recognize it anywhere, it’s Simeon!

Simeon gently flaps his wings to slowly descend from the Celestial Realm’s light. His wings are pure white with a slight flow and ripple in the feathers. You’re certain you even see some golden feathers hidden under all the white ones. A golden halo floats gently above his head; the halo seems to be made entirely out of golden light. The little cherub Luke holds onto Simeon’s legs as the two slowly descend together. Luke must still be too young for his own wings to carry him, if he even has his wings yet. Simeon lands elegantly in your crater with a golden and bejeweled scroll in his hands. He tucks his wings closer to him, but doesn’t hide away his angel form. Which you are more than happy with, because Simeon was already handsome before, but with the angelic light gently surrounding him, he is nothing short of absolutely gorgeous.

“Simeon! It’s good to see you back!” Diavolo greets.

“It’s good to see all of you again as well,” Simeon greets as he scratches the back of his neck. Luke awkwardly shuffles off of the older angel’s legs.

“I can probably take a guess, but what brings you back to the Devildom?” Diavolo asks.

“I’ve been sent by Archangel Michael to personally hand you MC’s scroll,” Simeon says with a smile, gently handing Diavolo the golden scroll.

Normally, a new demon’s scroll would just fall with them, and usually hit them on the head as they splatted somewhere in the Devildom. For more grander entrances, it usually fell just as magnificently as the spirit it is addressed too. But to have a scroll hand delivered by an angel is a first in Devildom history.

Diavolo opens the golden and bejeweled case and takes out the golden parchment-paper scroll hidden inside. He hands the case to Barbatos and gently unrolls the scroll to read it. “Under the authority of our Father, we deem the spirit of MC to be too sinful to reside in the gardens of the Celestial Realm. She has been judged under the sin of lust. This verdict has been chosen due to her history of… oh dear,” Diavolo clears his throat and looks over at Simeon. “Simeon, would you mind covering the little one’s ears?” He asks, gesturing to Luke.

Simeon’s eyes go wide with confusion, but nonetheless, the angel bends down and covers the young Cherub’s ears. Luke tries to shake him off, asking why he can’t know what everyone else is talking about, but everyone ignores him as Diavolo continues to read. “Alright now, where did I leave off… Ah! Yes, here we are. This verdict has been chosen due to her history of fornicating with several high-ranking demons. Thus, we banish thee to the Devildom. Signed, Archangel Michael.”

Simeon blushes at your sexual history with the brothers. And every brother has their own way of trying to hide their blush and subvert their attention away from the situation. Except Asmodeus, who has a prideful and smug grin on his face.

“Well, that explains why you’re in the Devildom!” Diavolo laughs. But even through his laugh, there’s an obvious embarrassed twitch in his smile and a blush on his cheeks.

“My Lord, this is hardly a laughing matter,” Lucifer says in a low voice, trying to cover his own blush on his face with his hand.

“But that still doesn’t explain how I… you know…” Saying out loud that you died but are somehow right here alive and breathing is a difficult thing to come to terms with.

Simeon crouches down beside you, his Celestial light bringing its warmth to your figure. “Here, I can help you put together the missing details. We can put your memories in order, together. First, let’s start from the beginning...”

Chapter Text

Your home was a lot darker and dirtier than you remember leaving it a year ago. Probably because it hasn’t been cleaned or lived in for a year. You walk into your abode, set your suitcase down, and take a look at what has become of your home. There’s dust everywhere. Dirty dishes that were left out before your sudden departure to the Devildom are so revolting and disgusting you might as well just throw them away. All of the food in the fridge has spoiled a long time ago, and some of your furniture has wood rot. It might as well be a miracle no one broke in to steal your stuff or explore your home like an abandoned site.

It takes a small fortune to clean your home, restock your fridge, and make the necessary repairs to your furniture and home. And even worse news, the Human World does not take Grimm as payment. You were able to convert your Grimm into Human World currency, thankfully. Which was previously impossible, but thanks to Diavolo’s successful exchange program, relations were slowly becoming happy and healthy between the three realms. Which meant there were places to exchange currency between the three realms for the small number of visitors and tourists that came through.

After a few days of cleaning and readjusting to the culture of the Human World, you had decided that it was about time you told some people you were back home. Now that you thought of it, you didn’t even know if your friends and family knew where you went. Did they even notice you were gone, or did Diavolo or Barbatos use magic to cover up your disappearance? It’s about time to find out!

Deciding it’s not the best idea to tell your family first that you’ve been gone for a year, you call up one of your friends first for a trial run. You dial up his number on your Human World phone and listen to the dial, waiting for him to pick up.

“Hello?” You hear your friend Mick pick up on the other end.

“Hey, how’s it been going?” You ask casually, testing the waters to see if you’ll get any strange reactions from him.

“MC? Why are you calling me? You know I’m working at this hour,” Mick chides, but you can tell by his tone of voice that he’s just being difficult with you, and is not actually angry or upset with you.

“You know I love getting on your nerves,” You reply with a smile on your lips. You’re just now realizing how much you’ve missed interacting with other humans.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He replies nonchalantly. “But in all seriousness now, why are you calling me? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine; promise. But has anything unusual happened as of late?” You ask, taking a seat on your brand-new couch.

“What do you mean when you say unusual?” He asks.

“Unusual like… someone disappearing, or something like that.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Why are you asking me that? What are you getting at?”

“Just answer the question, please.”

“No, I haven’t heard of any disappearances or anything along those lines. Why are you asking something crazy like that?”

So, someone – likely Diavolo or Barbatos – did use magic so no one would be suspicious about your disappearance. It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse; no one was worried about you, but now you have a lot of explaining and stories to tell.

You chuckle a little. “You are not going to believe what I’m about to tell you.”

“What? What is-- Shit, my boss is coming. Now is not a good time. You wanna get a coffee or something this weekend?”

“At our usual spot?”

“Where else would we go?” He chuckles on the other end.

You laugh again. You’ve really missed the company of your friends. “Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’ll meet you there this weekend. At our usual time?”

“You know it!” The call suddenly drops. Likely because Mick had to hang up quickly, or worse, his boss did it for him. Either way, you’ve at least got plans now.

You spend the next few hours calling friends and family, and they all have similar reactions; no one is aware that you were gone for a whole year. You’ll tell them all eventually, of course. But you just want to do it with your one friend at the moment, just to study his reactions. Because as much as you’d love to tell everyone about your trip to the Devildom, some people just can’t handle handsome demons.

Once you finish your calls, you go on a short stroll around your area. You didn’t have a destination, in all honesty, you were just trying to get used to the sun again. You lost so much color in your skin from being in the darkness of the Devildom. Not only that, but you just about needed sunglasses to go outside, since your eyes were no longer used to the ball of fire in the sky. You also burned super easily now, so you went on these little strolls to try and readjust your body back to being used to the sun.

When the weekend finally rolled around, you walked to your local café with a backpack in tow. It was a little busy at the café, as most of the early birds have already come in, gotten their orders, and left. While some of the more casual folks sat around enjoying their breakfast, talking with other people, reading, or doing something on their laptops. You placed your order at the front and sat in a booth, waiting for your friend and your refreshments. You could not wait to tell him about the Devildom and the brothers.

Fifteen minutes after your arrival, Mick finally walks in through the front doors. You take a judgmental sip of your drink as he sits across from you in the booth.

“Don’t say it, I know I’m late,” He says, trying to get comfortable in the seat.

“As you usually are,” you playfully mock. “Are you even gonna order anything first?”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” Mick quickly springs back up from his seat and goes over to the counter to order a drink for himself. He then quickly slides back into the booth and dramatically places his hands on the table. “So, what is this crazy thing you were going to tell me about?”

You take another sip from your drink. “I don’t think you’re going to believe me when I tell you.”

“Well, tell me, and I’ll be the judge of whether I believe you or not,” A barista comes by and drops off Mick’s drink at the table before walking off.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I went to the Devildom for a whole year?”

Mick gives you a deadpan look as he takes a sip of his coffee. “You’re right, I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?”

“I’m pretty sure I would notice if one of my friends vanished for a whole year,” He says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the three realms.

“What if I told you I have proof?”

“Then you better show me it right now, because I don’t believe you.”

You grab your backpack and start digging through its contents. Your hands land on a small leather sack. Yes, this would be a good start. You grab the small sack and place it on the table, it makes a small jingling sound as you place it down. Mick grabs the small sack and opens it. Inside it are numerous small, golden coins; Grimm, to be precise. You had held onto a few pieces to have as like a souvenir. Mick examines the coins, taking note of the happy skulls on them.

“What are these? Doubloons?” He asks, about to bite into one.

“You bite into that, and so help me, there will be consequences!” You threaten, immediately snatching the coin and the sack back. “These are not pirate doubloons, they’re called Grimm! It’s the currency used down in the Devildom.”

Mick examines the gold coins from a distance for a minute more before lightly scoffing. “You could have easily bought these off Amazon to try and get me to believe your crazy story.”

“For the record, I didn’t do that, this is real Grimm. But if you want to be difficult about it, then fine, I have more proof anyway.”

You put all of the loose Grimm back into the sack, close it up, and gently put it back into your backpack. You have a secret weapon, but you’re going to save that for last, if need be. You dig around in your bag some more, looking for another item. Your hands fall on something metallic and pointy. It’s your RAD medal. Diavolo had let you take it as a keepsake. You pull the medal out of your bag and gently slide it over to Mick, who examines it with curious eyes and hands.

“What’s this? And what does RAD mean?”

“It’s a medal used for the school uniforms in the Devildom. And RAD is an acronym, it stands for Royal Academy of Diavolo.”

Mick looks at you with wide eyes. “Wait, you’re telling me Diavolo is actually a real, live person?”

“Well, demon, technically. But yes.”

Mick examines the medal for a few more seconds before handing it back to you. “I mean, it’s cool, but that’s not like, solid evidence.”

“Why are you being so difficult today?” You grumble as you gently place the medal back into your bag.

“Do you know how hard it is to believe that you were in the Devildom for a whole year, and not me, or anyone else, would notice you were gone?”

“Lord Diavolo likely covered it up with magic,” You say plainly as you dig through your bag.

“Magic isn’t even real,” Mick scoffs as he takes a sip of his coffee.

That gets a scoff out of you. “You should meet Solomon, then.”

“I don’t even know who that is.”

You ignore your friend and focus on finding another item in your bag. Your hand brushes against something soft. You grab the item and pull it out. It’s the zombie iguana plush you got with Mammon on your trip to the amusement park. Yes, Lucifer did confiscate it, but you totally did not sneak into his personal study one day and take it back. It’s fine, it’s not like Lucifer noticed anyway. You attempt to hand the plushie to Mick.

He doesn’t take the plushie. Instead, he just stares at it as if it were a piece of rotting meat. “What is that?”

“It’s a zombie iguana! I got it at a carnival in the Devildom.”

“My guy, that thing is so ugly and disgusting.”

You gasp dramatically and hug your zombie iguana. “He’s just special! You wouldn’t understand!”

“It isn’t even proof, either!” Mick argues with a small laugh. “You could have bought that from a small business who specializes in making plushies! Why you’d want something so hideous is beyond me; but hey, you do you.”

You delicately put your plushie back in your bag with a growl. “Don’t you insult him, he’s beautiful,” you snarl at Mick as you keep rummaging for another item.

You’re running out of options here, but you’ve still got one more thing before you have to use the ace up your sleeve. You grab the can of D-Energy at the bottom of your bag and place it in front of Mick.

“Do not open that!” You warn him before he can even put his hands on it. “It’s the only can I have left, and I promise you, that you’re not going to find this anywhere in the Human World.”

“Is this one of those odd energy drinks that you can buy in parts of Asia, or something?” Mick asks as he examines the can.

“Did you listen to anything I just said? It’s an energy drink, but it’s only made in the Devildom. The D in the name stands for demon, after all. Just read the ingredients on the back. Where else are you going to find lying lamb’s tongue or snarling berry extract?”

“There’s a tongue in the can!?” Mick shouts in disgust.

“No!” You facepalm. “You are impossible today! Technically, yes, there is tongue in the drink. But it’s just an ingredient! It’s ground into a powder to be dissolved during the mixing process! There’s not a whole tongue inside it!”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Mick groans as he pushes the can back over to you.

“You would be sick if you knew all the crap that’s in the food we eat regularly,” you bite back, gently putting the D-Energy back into your bag. “Do you believe me yet?”

“Okay, maybe I somewhat believe you were in the Devildom. But I certainly don’t think you were gone for a whole year. I definitely would have noticed that!”

You sigh and slump into your seat. This conversation is going in circles; it’s time to pull out the big guns.

You reach into your bag and grab your D.D.D. You show it off to Mick with pride, though he just looks unamused and unimpressed.

“That’s just your phone,” He says, staring at you as if you’ve just lost your mind.

“It’s not just any phone, it’s a D.D.D.! You can only get them in the Devildom!”

“Okay, but what makes it so special, and why should I care?”

You sigh and mutter under your breath about how impossible Mick is being before you stand up and sit next to him in the booth. He scooches over to make room for you as you unlock your D.D.D.

“Okay, watch this. Because a D.D.D. is the Devildom’s version of a cellphone, it has things that only it can do. For example, instead of Amazon, the Devildom uses a shopping site called Akuzon. See?”

You open up the Akuzon app and hand your D.D.D. to your friend. He stares at the device, bored, as the app loads. You can guess by the look on his face that he thinks this is just some kind of edgy shopping app due to the black screen and bats on the load screen. But his face slowly turns to one of confusion and wonder as he scans through the various items available for sale.

“What is this stuff supposed to be? Food?” Mick asks as he slides your D.D.D. back over for you to see.

“Yeah, you can buy food from Akuzon. What of it?”

“Well, it’s just that this apple looks like a melting skull, and that it might kill me if I eat it,” He says, pointing at the princess’ poison apple.

“I think that’s one of the Devildom foods that isn’t safe for human consumption.”

Mick keeps scrolling through Akuzon with growing interest before he freezes, and his face contorts. “MC, what in the hell is a whip of love? And why is it marked as one of your favorite items?”

“Okay, last thing I want to show you!” You speak somewhat loudly, quickly swiping back your D.D.D. and closing out Akuzon; eager to change the subject. There are just some things people don’t need to know about your escapade through the Devildom.

It was time for the ace up your sleeve. You pull up your contacts and tap on Lucifer. Today, it was his turn for you to call him. But instead of a regular call, like you would normally do with the brothers, now seems like an excellent time for a face call. Lucifer doesn’t really like face calls if they aren’t necessary, but you knew he would make an exception for you.

You tap on the face call button, prop your D.D.D. against some condiments on the table so you don’t have to hold it, and wait for the first-born to answer.

“Who are you calling?” Mick asks as the two of you stare at yourselves in the camera.

“Oh, you know, only the first-born of the seven deadly sins, the Avatar of Pride himself,” You say, with a smug voice and an even smugger grin.

“You’re joking. There’s no way you are acquainted with an embodiment of sin,” Mick snides while looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Actually, I am acquainted with all seven of them, thank you very much,” You reply while flicking his ignorant forehead.

“Hello, my dearest MC,” A smooth and familiar voice sings through the air.

You and Mick return your gazes to the screen to see none other than the Morning Star on your D.D.D. screen, with a happy look on his face. He’s in his study, in the usual black and red attire he wears around the House.

“No fucking way,” Mick mutters under his breath.

“Hello, Lucifer,” You greet back to the Avatar of Pride, completely ignoring Mick. “It’s good to see you again. I know you’re not one for face calls, so I appreciate you picking up.”

“Of course, my love. You know I love these small opportunities where it’s just you and I. Or at least, that’s normally the case. Is this one of your friends?” Lucifer asks, gesturing over to Mick.

You’re about to open your mouth to answer, but Mick practically leaps across the table to get his face right in front of the camera. “Are you actually Lucifer!? Like, the Lucifer!? The first one to fall!?” You shush Mick as he loudly and excitedly asks his questions; some of the other patrons of the café are looking at the two of you with annoyed glances.

Lucifer sighs, also a little annoyed with your friend. “Yes, that is me. Surely MC had told you about us by now.”

“I did!” You answer quickly, having to push Mick out of the way so Lucifer could see the both of you once again. “He just didn’t believe me!”

“How am I supposed to react when you say you were gone for a year, but I somehow never noticed?” Mick tries to defend himself.

Lucifer audibly sighs again; Mick is probably reminding him a little too much of Mammon right now. “We had to put magic in place to make sure MC’s disappearance didn’t cause a rouse.”

Mick stares dumbfoundedly at you and the demon on the screen. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding, MC. This is insane! You’re so lucky!” He says, jealousy obvious in his voice.

“Yep, it was pretty great in the Devildom,” You brag a little, some pride swelling in your chest.

“Does anyone else know about this?” Mick asks like an excited puppy.

“Ahem,” Lucifer huffs; obviously a little upset about being shoved to the side in the conversation.

“Oh, yes, excuse me Lucifer,” You apologize to the first-born.

“It is no trouble, my love. But would it be better if we called again later today?”

“Wait, my love?” Mick asks, dumbfounded. You ignore him again.

“Yes, please. I’ll call you again in a few hours. Thank you for doing this little favor for me.”

“Anytime. I love you.”

“I love you too, Lucifer.”

Lucifer hangs up the call and the screen goes black. Mick is staring at you with his jaw dropped.

“What?” You ask.

“Are the two of you fucking!?” He shouts.

You slap your hand over his mouth, shove your D.D.D. in your pocket with your other hand, grab your bag, and quickly shuffle out of the café; now too embarrassed to be in the establishment. Mick quickly scrambles after you, nearly falling flat on his face when trying to get out of the booth.

“Did you have to shout that?” You ask annoyed as the two of you are now walking back to your place.

“You didn’t answer my question! Are you really fucking THE Lucifer!?”

“I’m fucking all of the sins! Will you shut up now!?”

“Can we please switch places!? Please! I wanna go to the Devildom!” Mick continues shouting, pulling on your shirt in excitement.

“Get off me!” You yell. Although you’re trying not to let it show, you’re secretly having fun and enjoying this stupid moment with your friend. It’s been so long since you’ve had a moment like this.

“Please, can we go to the Devildom!?”

“Dude, no! It doesn’t work like that!”

“But I wanna meet them – the sins! I need to make sure they’re good enough for you!”

The shenanigans and questions continued until the two of you walked into your home. That’s finally when Mick calmed down some, though he still had a big smile on his face.

“This is all so incredible; I can’t believe you’ve actually lived in the Devildom! Geez, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Mick finally apologizes.

You chuckle a little. “It’s fine. I don’t think I’d believe myself either if I didn’t live through it.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s great, but in all seriousness – you have to take me to the Devildom some time.”

“Alright! Alright,” You say just to get him to shut up with a small sigh. Is this how Lucifer feels trying to manage his brothers? “If there is an opportunity where I can return to the Devildom and bring a guest, I will bring you.”

“Yes! Thank you, MC!” Mick runs up to you and gives you a big bear hug. When he pulls away, his face is a little more serious. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“Not really. I’ve called some friend and family members to see if they noticed I was gone, but like you, they didn’t think anything was amiss. So, no, you’re the only one right now to know that I was in the Devildom.”

Mick is beaming again with excitement and happiness. “Do you have any plans next weekend?” He asks.

“No, why?”

“Let’s go clubbing together! It’s been so long since we went out! I can call up the others, and we can all go out and have a fun time! Plus, you have to tell them what you’ve told me about the Devildom! The looks on everyone’s’ faces is going to be priceless!”

“Is your asshole boss actually going to let you take the weekend off, though?” You ask with a small chuckle.

“I’ll quit if he doesn’t! I swear, I will!” Mick exclaims before getting in your face once again. “Listen, I’ll take care of my boss and rallying everyone together, you just keep your schedule clear for Saturday night, capisce?”

“Alright, okay! Dude, give me some space to breathe!” You exclaim, playfully pushing him back. “Yes, I’ll make sure I’m available Saturday night.”

“Woo!” Mick cheers while pumping his fists in the air. Perhaps he had too much caffeine at the café. “You’re gonna have the time of your life on Saturday! Gosh, it’s been so long since all of us hung out together.”

“It’s going to be so weird going back to a human club after frequenting The Fall,” You mumble with a distant look in your eyes, rehashing old memories in your mind.

“The Fall…? What’s that?” Mick asks, giving you a curious look.

“Short answer is it’s a very popular club in the Devildom that only higher-class demons can get into.”

His eyes go wide again with excitement as he opens his mouth. “Does that mean that you—”

You cut him off by placing your finger over his lips. “I’ll answer all of your questions on Saturday; I’m certain the others are going to have their own questions, and I don’t want to repeat myself a thousand times.”

Mick chuckles a little before finally calming down some. “Alright, but I’m going to interrogate you, then! I’ve got so many questions!”

“I’m sure you do, and I’m certain the others will as well. Now get out of my house, I’ve got things to do.”

“Like calling your boyfriends,” Mick coos with a mocking tone, as if he was mentally back at the age of a teenager.

You give him a dramatic sigh before pushing him in the direction of your front door. “Just get out!”

Mick laughs loudly as he walks out of your home and in the direction of his own abode. He turns around and gives you an eager wave goodbye. “I’ll see you on Saturday!”

While waiting for the next weekend to roll around, you spend the next few days sorting through your life. You go job hunting and submit a few applications. You sort through your clothes and make-up, both trying to find a suitable outfit, while also throwing out old clothes and make-up that weren’t doing so good after a year of neglect.

On Thursday, you try to decide what kind of make-up you should wear for Saturday night. “Do I want to do natural, or something more colorful?” You ask yourself as you stand in front of your mirror, a pallet of different shades of eyeshadow in your hand.

Your efforts to decide on a style is interrupted as you hear a knock at the front door. You place down the pallet of eyeshadow and go to greet whoever is at the door; and you are pleasantly surprised when it is none other than Solomon.

“Solomon, it’s so good to see you again!” You greet, standing out of the doorway to make room for the sorcerer. “Come in, please!”

“It’s so good to see you again as well, MC,” Solomon greets before walking into your home.

Solomon takes a seat in your living room as you fill up two glasses of water. You hand one to Solomon and take a seat beside him.

“So, what brings you to my home? How did you even figure out where I live?” You ask.

Solomon takes a sip of his water before answering you. “There was actually something I wanted to discuss with you. And as to how I know where you live, well, that isn’t very important right now,” Solomon says with his Chesire smile while waving off your question.

You just raise an eyebrow at him. You already know that Solomon won’t tell you about his strange tactics and magic if he doesn’t want to, so you don’t push him on the subject. “Okay, then, I’m just gonna ignore that part about my location,” You say with a suspicious tone, but Solomon doesn’t react or lose his smile. “Okay, anyways, what did you want to discuss?”

Solomon finally drops his smile and gives you a serious look. “This might seem out of the blue, but I have this growing feeling that something bad is going to happen. And when you’ve lived for as long as I have, you learn to trust such feelings.”

“Something bad? Like what? Do you know when this might occur?” You ask Solomon, taking a small sip of your water.

Solomon sighs and averts his gaze. “No, I don’t know when or where this will happen, but the feeling grows worse every day. Whatever it is, it’s going to be pretty bad, and likely inevitable,” Solomon finally meets your gaze again. His eyes are serious, but you can see some gentle and tender care for you deep in his eyes. “I wanted to warn you about this possible disaster, MC. While I doubt it involves you, a word of warning certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

You nod your head and sort through the events that have happened this past week and a half, since your return from the Devildom. Nothing unusual has happened; no one’s been acting out of place and nothing interesting has occurred. You don’t doubt Solomon and his warning, but you don’t have a clue as to what this unpleasant, bad event might be.

“Well, I’m sorry, Solomon. I wish I had some form of idea of what this bad thing might be, but I have no idea. Nothing unusual has happened to me since returning home.”

Solomon nods. “I was a little afraid you might say that. But hopefully that means this unfortunate event is going to leave you out of it.”

You gently and playfully push Solomon’s shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. “As much as I appreciate your company, couldn’t you have just texted me this warning instead of showing up at my house?” You ask with a playful tone.

“What? Am I not allowed to see you anymore?” Solomon replies with just as much playfulness, gently pushing you back.

“I never said that, but I also think you’re just trying to make excuses to come see me.”

“There might be some truth in your words, but perhaps I just wanted to drive home the point of making sure you stay safe.”

You roll your eyes at Solomon, though there’s a genuine smile on your face. You spend the next few hours chatting with Solomon. The two of you talk about returning to life in the Human World, the Devildom and its inhabitants, how Simeon and Luke might be doing, and what grand adventure the great Solomon has planned next. When night falls, Solomon excuses himself from your abode so that you may rest.

“Thank you for having me,” Solomon tells you through as he stands in your doorway.

“Of course, Solomon. You’re welcome at any time.”

You get a large, genuine smile out of the sorcerer. Not one of his playful or cunning smiles, but a real smile. “Thank you, MC. That means a lot,” The sorcerer turns to leave but quickly turns back around to face you. “Ah! I nearly forgot! Just to be safe about this bad event, I wanted to ask you if you wouldn’t mind me making you a protective charm.”

You feel your heart swell in your chest. You appreciate Solomon looking out for you and your well-being. “Yes please, I would appreciate that,” You tell the sorcerer with your own smile. “You really didn’t have to ask me about that, though.”

“Well, since I’d have to bound some of your energy to the charm, I wanted to ask for your consent first.”

The sorcerer walks up to you once again, and he gently takes one of your hands in his own. He places a soft and gentle kiss on the back of your palm before dropping your hand and looking up at you. “Goodnight, MC.”

Your heart picks up a few beats, but you try not to let it show. “Goodnight, Solomon,” You gently close the door behind the sorcerer as he walks off into the night.

If only you knew what your next interaction with Solomon would look like.

On Friday, you mostly spend the day looking for more jobs and waiting for replies that just never seem to come. So, to get your mind off of things, you decide to take a self-care day. You take a long hot shower, and treat yourself to some expensive skincare products that Asmo had sent you home with.

Finally, Saturday night arrives, and you stand in the mirror going over your outfit and make-up one last time, making sure nothing is out of place. You pack a small purse with your wallet, keys, extra make-up, and phone. You grab your D.D.D. and shoot a quick text to the brothers that you likely won’t respond to any of their messages until tomorrow afternoon due to tonight’s plans, and the likely chance of a hangover the next morning.

Once you send your message and receive confirmation and goodbyes from the brothers, you put your D.D.D. back on your nightstand. You weren’t going to take it with you; you weren’t going to need it. You had your Human World cellphone, after all.

You wait outside for Mick to pick you up. You mindlessly scroll through your phone as you wait. You don’t wait very long as you hear the screeching of tires and loud, booming music off in the distance. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s Mick behind the wheel. How he hasn’t killed anyone or himself with his poor driving skills is a miracle. You put your phone back in your purse and look up just in time to see Mick drifting his car towards the nearby curb to pick you up. You roll your eyes as you open the passenger side door and climb inside; the music inside is nearly deafening.

“You’re going to kill someone with this thing one day!” You shout at Mick, having to yell just to be heard over the radio.

“It’s good to see you again too!” He yells back at you with a big smile, completely ignoring what you just said.

You roll your eyes as Mick speeds off to the club. Your other friends in the backseat are already asking for your stories about the Devildom before you even get to the club. You yell at them to wait and be patient, because you’ll explain everything once at the club with a couple of drinks. However, that doesn’t stop them from asking questions if you really left the Human World or not, what the Devildom is like, and if you had actually gotten the Avatars of sin to be your lovers.

“Drinks are on me tonight!” Mick shouts as he parks the car, finally turning off the blaring music.

“You’re going to make us all deaf before we turn forty!” One of your other friends complains as everyone climbs out of the car.

Your small friend group is able to get past the bouncer and get inside the club. It’s nearly uncanny how different yet also how similar a Human World club is compared to The Fall. There’s still the loud music, colorful drinks, and drunk people giving it everything they’ve got on the dance floor. But yet there’s a lack of energy in the building. Maybe it’s just because you got used to the rowdiness and Infernal magic of demons, but the club feels so weak when compared to The Fall, even though it’s a full house on a Saturday night.

Your group is able to snag a little seating area that’s not too far from the bar with various drinks in hand. Everyone sits together and gets comfortable before all eyes land on you.

“Start from the beginning, tell everyone what you told me earlier!” Mick says eagerly, with that same uncontrolled excitement from a few days ago.

So, you retell your whole story all over again; getting kidnapped into the Devildom, living with the Avatars of sin, attending a demon school, describing what the Demon Lord’s Castle and its inhabitants were like; you shared all of your adventures and magical journeys, as well as answering questions in between. By the time you had finally explained everything, everyone in the group was on their fourth drink. Except Mick, who was the designated driver tonight, so he didn’t get anything at the bar.

Once you finish telling your tales and all questions are answered, everyone spreads out to go their own separate ways for a bit. The group separates with some people either going to the dance floor, the bar, or a few unfortunate souls attempting to flirt and bribe their way into the private lounges, leaving you to stay in your seat, drinking your drink, alone.

The realization of your loneliness really settles in as you watch everyone around you mingling and having a good time. When was the last time you actually felt this lonely? You never felt alone in the Devildom, you always had at least one brother by your side for a large majority of the day. But they’re not here, and you’re not in the Devildom anymore. It makes your heart ache. You were able to distract yourself from your loneliness and your missing of the brothers by staying busy around your empty home, but now you’re forced to except the reality that you’re very far from your lovers. Admittedly, the alcohol you had drunken thus far wasn’t helping either.

You look around the club, inserting your lovers in the scenes inside your mind. Mammon and Asmo would likely be killing it on the dance floor. You’ve no doubt that every mortal in their presence would be entranced and surround them in a dance circle. Levi would probably be curled up by your side playing a game on his D.D.D., not enjoying all the loud noises and people. Satan would probably try to find someplace quiet to read a book, or maybe he’d ask you to get a drink at the bar. Lucifer would definitely invite you up to the bar for a drink or two, and would also likely complain that Human World alcohol is not strong enough for him. Beelzebub would eat all the bar snacks without hesitation, and Belphegor would probably follow you or his twin around until he wanted to go home, or just find a place to sleep.

The thoughts of your lovers in the Human World with you brings a small smile to your face, but you also can’t ignore the silent tears streaming down your face. You miss the brothers so, so much; each and every one of them. How could you possibly manage to live this life without them? The alcohol in your system is not helping your emotions as you slowly spiral into an emotional mess. This is not the place to cry or have a breakdown, you need to go home.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and start scrolling through your contacts to find Solomon; if you can just explain the situation to him, he’ll definitely come by to pick you up, help you home, and provide you the emotional comfort and stability you need right now. You scroll through all your contacts and don’t find Solomon’s number. You might be more drunk than you anticipated. You scroll through all of your contacts again and again, but still, you can’t find the sorcerer’s number. And that’s when it hits you – you only have Solomon’s number in your D.D.D., and not your phone. You didn’t even know his Human World phone number; which means you’re all on your own to get back home.

You stand up from your seat to immediately get hit by a wave of dizziness. You fall back into your chair with a groan as you hold your head, waiting for the wooziness to dissipate. You could barely taste any alcohol in your drinks, so you thought you had ordered weak drinks. But apparently, the bartender was just really good at hiding the taste of the alcohol. You need to get home to get your emotions back under control, rest, and drink some water – because you already know tomorrow morning you’re going to be hungover.

You stand up again when you feel a little better and start looking for one of your friends to tell them you’re going home. Thankfully, Mick is easy to spot on the dance floor, because his dancing is actually that awful. You slowly walk up to him and gently tap him on the shoulder.

Mick turns to look at you with wild and excited eyes. “Hey, MC! Did you wanna— oh,” His smile drops as he notices the tears on your cheeks and the sad expression on your face. “Are you alright? Did you drink too much?”

“No, I’m okay. I just don’t feel so good and want to go home,” You talk into his ear since the music is so loud.

“Do you want me to drive you?” He asks, having to yell at you to be heard.

You shake your head. “No, you need to stay here with the others, since you’re the designated driver tonight.”

“But MC, I can—”

You put your fingers to his lips and shake your head again. “No, the bouncer won’t let you back in. Don’t worry, I can walk home. If anyone asks just tell them I’m at home, okay?”

Mick gives you a concerned look, he clearly doesn’t like the idea of you walking alone at night while being at least a little tipsy. But the two of you knew your friend group, and you knew at least one of your friends was going to ride the line of being blackout drunk. So, Mick sighs and reluctantly nods his head.

“Okay, I understand. If anyone asks I’ll tell them you went home,” He relents.

“Thank you,” You turn to walk away but Mick grabs you by the wrist; you turn back to look at him again.

“I know what this is really about,” He yells, though he sounds oddly quiet over the loud music and crowd. “I know you miss them; I can see it in your eyes. But everything is going to be okay. I’m always here if you need me, okay?” He yells at you, holding onto your hand with both of his. The genuine concern in his eyes is heartwarming.

You give him a small and earnest smile. “Thank you, and I know that.”

Mick finally lets you go and gives you one of his classic big smiles. “Go call them when you get home, and tell them I said hi!”

You roll your eyes playfully as Mick returns to dancing, and you turn to walk out the door. The night time air is cool and refreshing, you hadn’t realized how hot and stifling the club was until now.

You take slow steps as you walk home, not wanting to let your intoxication show. The streets are quiet as occasional cars drive by. It’s odd how night time in the Human World somehow feels different to the eternal night of the Devildom. You take a deep breath as more tears start to fall from your eyes; you really need to stop thinking about the brothers and the Devildom right now. First, you need to get home, then you can cry into your pillow. You should call Mammon when you get home, you’re certain he’d do anything to cheer you up.

You giggle a little as you imagine what Mammon might do if he saw you crying. Knowing Mammon, he’d either do something stupid to make you laugh or let his soft and genuine side show. Mammon usually wasn’t soft or mushy, especially around his brothers, but sometimes he would show this rare side of himself to you. During those moments he was honest with you, himself, and his feelings. It was one of the few moments where Mammon would admit to you all of his genuine love and care for you, instead of trying to sweep it under the rug or pretend that he doesn’t care as much as he actually does, like what he does in front of his brothers.

Your daydream is suddenly interrupted as you hear the loud honk of a truck horn. You turn to the sound. You go blind and your nerves go into shock as you stare right into the blinding lights of an oncoming semi-truck. There’s no time to react, the alcohol in your system has made you too slow. The semi-truck hits you head on and sends you flying across the street. The last thing you register is the screeching sound of vehicle brakes and the smell of burning rubber before you blackout.

A few miles from the accident is Solomon, scribbling some notes on a piece of paper in the kitchen of his current apartment. His newest experiment with ingredients he brought back from the Devildom, and ingredients he found from the Human World, has made an interesting concoction that only Solomon could call food. But suddenly, the sorcerer freezes. His hand tenses, clutching his pencil in a death grip as his hair stands on end.

Something just happened.

The bad thing, it happened.

Solomon drops his pencil and runs into the living room. He scoops his D.D.D. off the couch and dials your number. He holds the device anxiously to his ear as the D.D.D. slowly rings. One ring, then two, then three, until it eventually goes to voicemail.

“Shit,” Solomon curses as he runs back into the kitchen. He turns the stove off then runs out of his apartment.

Solomon dials you again as he traces your energy trail with his magic. By the time he ends up at the club, he’s called you three times, and you still haven’t answered. But your energy is strong here, you were here recently, you’re not far.

Solomon runs down the street, following your energy. Sweat drips down his face as his long blue and white jacket flaps wildly behind him. He can see lights in the distance. Flashing red, white, and blues. Your energy is right there, hiding in the blinding lights. But it’s getting weaker and weaker; your energy is slowly fading.

“By the stars, no! Please, anything but this!” Solomon screams into the air as he runs under the police tape into the heart of the scene.

A man is talking with a police officer by a parked semi-truck. There is a large dent on the grill of the truck. And there you are, lying broken and bleeding on a stretcher as you’re rushed into an ambulance.

“Wait!” Solomon screams as he jumps into the ambulance with you and the paramedics.

“You can’t come with us, sir!” One of the paramedics’ shouts, trying to shove Solomon out of the vehicle.

Solomon holds out his hand, a ball of light appearing in his palm. “Drive!” He shouts.

The ball of light explodes across the ambulance, manipulating all of the paramedics inside to Solomon’s will. The paramedic that was trying to shove him out pulls him back in as the driver takes off in the direction of the hospital. The paramedics hook you up to an IV and several different monitors as they struggle to keep you alive.

“What in the blazes happened?” Solomon asks as he looks over your broken body.

Blood is covering most of your skin and hair. One of your arms and one of your legs are contorted in angles they’re not supposed to be in; obviously broken. Your breathing is labored as if you’re struggling, and your eyes will not open.

“She was standing in the middle of the road, not paying attention. She was hit by the semi-truck back there. Her blood-alcohol level is very high, which might have influenced her to stand in the road, as well as contribute to her slow reaction time. Sir, do you know this woman?” One of the paramedics ask, not looking up at him as they keep their attention on you.

“Yes, she’s my girlfr— my friend!” Solomon catches himself before he says something stupid, even though he currently has the paramedic in his magical grip at the moment.

Solomon fidgets with his long jacket as the ambulance speeds off to the hospital. It is taking all of his restraint to not push the paramedics aside and heal you with his magic. They wouldn’t stop him, at least not while they’re under his spell. But he doesn’t have the time to do a thorough examination to see what exactly is wrong and broken. If he acted too quickly, he could end up making a catastrophic mistake, such as fusing two completely different broken bones into one, or reattaching blood veins incorrectly. And if the ambulance suddenly lurched for whatever reason, both of you would be in trouble. So, Solomon just waits with bated breath as he watches the paramedics try to find out the extent of your injuries.

Once at the hospital, nurses are on the scene to bring your stretcher into the emergency room. Solomon tries to follow after you, but is stopped by a nurse putting her hand on his chest.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t go back there; she needs emergency surgery,” The nurse tells him with a gentle but serious tone.

On reflex, Solomon opens his hand and prepares a spell. But he quickly cancels the spell as he forces himself to take a few steps back. He could temporarily hypnotize these nurses and doctors to get to you. He could mend you with his own magic. But at the end of the day, anatomy, physiology, and major healing magic is not his specialty. He would definitely be able to help you get better, but he can’t deny that these people know what they’re doing better than he does. Though it’s extremely painful to wait on the sidelines, it’s what’s best for you right now.

Solomon swallows in an attempt to wet his dry mouth. He slowly nods at the nurse. “Yes, I understand. Where can I wait until she’s out of surgery?”

The nurse points towards the main entrance of the hospital. “Just wait in the waiting room over there, sir. We’ll come get you when she’s ready for visitors,” Then with that, the nurse rushes to join the others in the ER, leaving Solomon outside, alone.

The sorcerer sulks into the waiting room where he fidgets with his hands anxiously. Why on earth would you ever walk into the middle of the road? You were so much smarter than that! For crying out loud, you survived the realm of demons! Solomon wishes he could just ask you why you did what you did, but he knows it doesn’t really matter; there’s likely nothing he could have done to prevent it anyway.

A pang of guilt rushes over him like an ocean wave. He knows he shouldn’t do this to himself, he knows he shouldn’t blame himself, but he needs someone to blame for this situation, and it can’t be you. If he had just gotten you your protective charm sooner, maybe this would have never happened. Maybe you would have never been in the middle of the road. Maybe you would have still been at home, safe and sound. But no, he had to delay making your charm, and now you’re paying the price.

A voice in Solomon’s head is quietly screaming at him that this is none his fault, that even if he had given you the charm, this likely still would have happened. But he needs to direct his anger and sadness at someone, even if that someone is himself.

Solomon forced the negative and self-hating thoughts out of his head temporarily. His fingers anxiously twitch as he thinks about contacting the brothers, or Diavolo, about the situation. But ultimately, he decides against it. There’s nothing the brothers or demon royalty can do right now. Plus, Solomon would be starting a panic for nothing. It’s best if he just keeps this to himself right now. At least until you’re out of the hospital and on the road to recovery.

Solomon waits for several hours in the waiting room, and no matter how many times he asks reception about you, there’s still no updates to be heard. He’s been waiting for so long that the sun is starting to rise. Solomon distracts himself by reading through the outdated magazines the hospital provided, talking with others who were waiting on friends or family, and frantically pacing around the waiting room.

Solomon tries to sleep in one of the chairs, but it’s too small for him to get properly comfortable. Not like he could sleep anyway with how anxious he is, but he knows he should. Solomon stretches out his legs, leans back, and rests his chin against his chest, trying his best to get into a comfortable, but also stable sleeping position. Solomon closes his eyes and attempts to sleep, but all he can see is flashes of your broken body behind his eyelids.

“Excuse me, sir?” A woman’s voice calls out.

Solomon opens his heavy eyelids and looks up at the voice. It’s the same nurse from earlier, the one that had stopped him outside the ER. She’s got two styrofoam cups in her hand with a dark liquid inside, and steam rising over the edge; likely coffee. She holds one out to Solomon, who gratefully takes it without a question. The nurse sits beside the sorcerer as he takes a sip of the coffee. It’s the first comforting warm thing he’s felt since your accident.

“You looked like you could use a little pick-me-up,” The nurse speaks as she takes a sip of her own coffee.

Solomon chuckles, but his voice is grim. “I think I should be the one offering you a cup of coffee, ma’am.”

“Nonsense, sir. I’ve seen a lot of concerned friends and family throughout my time working here. I know the stress and anxiety that you’re under is anything but fun,” The nurse explains in between sips of coffee. “But I came out here because I wanted to talk to you about your friend.”

Solomon nearly chokes and coughs on his coffee. Everything that could possibly go wrong races through his mind. Was this coffee some sort of softening of a blow because she has some bad news? What if it’s good news? What if it’s terrible news!? What if you’ve lost a limb, or become completely disfigured? Has your quality of life now been affected? Is there—

“Sir,” The nurse speaks in a determined tone. Solomon snaps back to reality and gives his full attention to the nurse. “I know that look in your eyes, but you don’t have to worry, because your friend is okay. She’s coming out of anesthesia in her room right now. She did very well in surgery, however, she’s not out of the woods yet.”

“But she’s alive?” Solomon whispers, too afraid his voice might crack.

The nurse nods. “Yes, but she’s in a critical condition. It’s important that she stays here for a few days so we can keep a close eye on her. We may have to put her in a medically induced coma, if need be.”

“Can I please see her?” Solomon asks, setting his cup of coffee down.

“Not yet, no. She’s still asleep and in too much of a critical condition for visitors right now.”

“Well, when can I see her, then?”

The nurse sighs. “I don’t exactly know. Her anesthesia should wear off this evening at the latest, but she likely won’t be awake and fully conscious until tomorrow. And even if she was awake and conscious, she will still likely not be healthy enough for visitors.”

Solomon sighs himself and slumps into his chair. “I understand.”

The nurse gives the sorcerer a comforting pat on the back. “We’ll do everything we can to help her, sir. Please just stay optimistic,” Then with that, the nurse takes her now empty cup of coffee and walks out of the waiting room, leaving Solomon alone and sulking.

Solomon groans and rubs his eyes. The sun’s warm rays beam in through the windows, but it only agitates him further from the glare of the light bouncing off the glossy covers of the magazines. Solomon grabs his coffee, downs the rest of its contents in a single gulp, and stands up to dispose of his cup before walking out of the hospital. He needs something to eat, and get some sleep.

The walk back to his residency feels unusually long and exhausting. Once inside, Solomon takes off his long jacket and hangs it up near the front door. He walks into the kitchen to see the dish he created from last night still sitting on the stove. Solomon grabs a bowl and a ladle, and pours some of the now cold ‘food’ into the bowl. Solomon puts his dish into the microwave and takes a quick, cold shower while it heats.

He feels a little bit better after his shower, but the water was unable to wash away the heaviness in his heart and bones. Instead of dressing in his usual sorcerer’s attire, Solomon dresses himself in a plain t-shirt and shorts. He walks into the kitchen, grabs his now heated bowl of slop, and walks into the living room to watch some TV to pass the time.

He ends up falling asleep on the couch with his bowl sitting in his lap and the TV playing the news.

When Solomon wakes up again, the sun is just beginning to set. With a groan, Solomon straightens himself and sets his bowl off to the side. His neck is sore and achy from sleeping upright at an odd angle. But that’s not important, because the nurse said you might be awake at this time, which means he’s going back to the hospital.

Solomon quickly changes back into his normal, more magical-looking attire and runs out the door, back towards the hospital.

The sorcerer bursts through the doors of the hospital’s waiting room, earning him gasps of surprise from waiting friends and family and looks of annoyance by the staff. Solomon strides up to the front dusk, trying not to huff and puff despite his run here.

“I’m here to see MC,” He says calmly, his heart beating loudly in his chest; and it’s not just due to the sudden exercise.

“I’m sorry, sir, but she can’t receive visitors right now. Her condition is still too critical. She’s been put under a medically induced coma, and is not expected to come out of it for at least a few days,” The lady at the front desk tells him as she types on her computer.

“No,” Solomon mutters under his breath, having to fight back his tears again. “Please, I must see her. I can help!” Solomon attempts to plead.

The nurse gives him a dirty look. “Sir, with all due respect, I doubt you could do better than our professionally trained doctors. If you want, you can leave me your phone number and I can call you when she’s ready for visitors, mmkay?”

Solomon bites his tongue on purpose to keep his mouth shut. You’re fighting for your life right now, and this woman is acting so nonchalant about it! The temptation to use his magic again is strong, but Solomon is old enough to know better.

“Thank you for the offer, ma’am,” Solomon says, trying to sound as polite as possible, even though he’s practically gritting his teeth. “I’ll just come in and check every once in a while.”

The nurse shrugs. “If that’s what you want.”

Solomon walks out of the hospital with annoyed huffs of breath. These people don’t know who he is, and they do not know the extent of his abilities. He will see you. He needs to see you. He just needs to know you’re still on this mortal plane; that you’re alive and breathing. And he can do that by himself. All he needs is the security of the night.

Chapter Text

Solomon is very, very old, especially for a human. He’s gathered the experience and wisdom that would take a normal person several lifetimes to achieve. He’s seen the rise and fall of many powerful leaders. He’s made friends with angels and pacts with demons. He’s mastered many matters of magic and has contributed a great deal to the advancement of the arcane. To say that Solomon is a jack of all trades would be cutting his credit too short. But something even Solomon couldn’t do, was control time. Unfortunately, that would be something he’d have to leave to Barbatos, and he was certain the demon butler did not feel like helping him right now.

Solomon needs it to be night time already. And though the sun is setting, it doesn’t feel fast enough. He sits outside the hospital, anxiously watching the sun as it makes its slow descent. He can’t enact his plan until the sky is painted black.

To spend time, Solomon studies over a little magic book he always keeps in one of his pockets. He also paces around the hospital perimeter, keeping a good distance to avoid being seen as suspicious by security. Though the moon and stars came out in only two hours’ time, it felt like a lifetime to the sorcerer. But that didn’t matter anymore. Because now it was night, and it was time to put his plan into action.

If the nurses and doctors wouldn’t let him see you, then he will just go see you himself.

Solomon continues to walk the perimeter, sticking close to the bushes, closely studying the hospital building. Before he can do anything, he needs to find you. Only problem is, that every room is near identical. It also doesn’t help that he can barely see into each room from ground level. Hiding in the bushes, Solomon calms himself to enter a quick meditative state. Having done this so many times, it’s not that difficult for the sorcerer, even when hiding in the pointy branches of bushes.

Solomon scans the hospital with his magic, checking several rooms at once, trying to find your energy. Normally, Solomon can feel your energy at all times, even when you’re so far away. But because you’re so weak, your magic signal is also weak, and nearly impossible to find by just reaching out and sensing for it.

Solomon stays in the bushes for several minutes, concentrating on finding your energy. Each failed attempt makes him more anxious that he might not be able to find you. Or worse, maybe your body couldn’t hold on anymore, and your spirit is already off to somewhere else. But Solomon forces himself to concentrate on the mission at hand rather than worrying about what ifs.

Finally, Solomon finds you with his magic. Your energy is so very weak, but at least you’re still alive. Solomon leaves behind a pinpoint of magic so he can always find you with his energy while you recover. Solomon then comes out of his meditative state, and sure enough, he can feel the pinpoint he left in your room. Solomon pokes his head out of the bushes and follow the magical signal up to where your room is. You’re only a few floors off of ground level. Okay, this wasn’t going to be impossible, then.

Solomon comes out of hiding and slinks over to the wall of the hospital. For once, Solomon actually wishes a hospital had patrolling security. Though Solomon didn’t really enjoy using manipulative magic on an innocent person, making a ladder out of men would sure be mighty helpful right about now. But he doesn’t have access to such resources right now, so he’s going to have to get creative.

Since Solomon had placed a pinpoint of magic in your room, he could turn it into a waypoint and teleport there. But teleportation was extremely dangerous and unpredictable. Solomon had only used teleportation magic only a handful of times due to how dangerous it is. Solomon looks up to where your room is and analyzes a possible path to get closer to you; if he can get closer to his waypoint before teleporting, he can minimize the risks that come with it.

But Solomon cannot scale a smooth, straight wall. And without a ladder, Solomon is stuck on ground level. He doesn’t have a choice; either he risks teleporting or he doesn’t see you.

“I hope I don’t regret this,” Solomon mutters to himself as he mentally prepares himself. Solomon sends out his energy to his pinpoint and turns it into a waypoint.

How teleportation works is that the spirit travels to the waypoint first, leaving a lifeless husk of a body behind. Once the spirit is secured in the waypoint, the spirit has to pull its body to the waypoint through a purgatory-like plain of existence by using magic and energy, which is very difficult and taxing for a single spirit to pull off. Several risks include your spirit being unable to get your body back, which means the body will quickly die without its spirit and or your body gets lost in purgatory, and you will be lost as a wandering spirit forever. Or your body clips in the magic on its journey and ends up in the middle of a wall, which also kills it. And in very rare cases, if two people are teleporting at once, they can end up in different bodies. But a consequence one always has to deal with when teleporting, is that their magical reservoir will be mostly if not completely drained for a few hours after teleporting.

Solomon pushes the possible consequences of teleporting out of his mind; he’s done this successfully before; he can do it again.

Solomon pushes all of his energy and magic into the waypoint. Once he’s certain he can anchor his spirit in the waypoint, Solomon breathes one last breath and sends his spirit to the waypoint. Solomon sees a quick flash of colors as his very soul leaves his body and travels through the magical tunnel he’s created. His spirit lands in your room at the waypoint he’s anchored his energy in. The first step is done, but this was the easy part – now he has to do the hard part, and quickly. His body is slowly dying with every second he waits.

With his spirit anchored in your room, Solomon reaches his energy out to his body. Because his heart is still beating, he can find his energetic signature quite easily. But already his heart is slowing and his breathing is starting to stop. He needs to do this now.

Solomon grabs his body’s energy with all the strength he can muster before pulling it towards the waypoint. Time seems to stop as Solomon awaits his fate of either dying, or living to see another day.

Solomon coughs and sputters as he lies on the ground of your room. His breath catches in his throat and his heart is pounding in his chest. He rolls over onto his elbows and knees as he struggles to catch his breath. He did it, thank the stars he did it. But now he has to deal with the aftereffects of his body being nearly dead for a few seconds.

Solomon rests for a few minutes as his breathing regulates, his heart calms down, and proper blood flow goes through all of his limbs. No matter how many times he practices this kind of magic, teleporting will never be comfortable or easy.

The sorcerer slowly stands up on shaky legs and takes a better look at his surroundings. He’s definitely in your dimly lit hospital room, but this isn’t just a regular hospital room; you’re in the ICU. It makes sense considering your condition, but it’s still sad to see. A closed curtain surrounding your small space keeps prying eyes away from you, but not sound; hopefully no one heard Solomon relearning how to breathe.

Solomon turns to face you, and his heart breaks all over again at the sight. You’re asleep in the hospital bed – in a medically induced coma, the nurse had said. An IV drips into your arm as a heart monitor slowly beeps behind you. You’re hooked up to so many machines just to keep you alive. You look like a cyborg recharging instead of an actual human being. Most of your skin is covered in bandages, with your neck, an arm, and a leg being in casts. One of your eyes is black and several wounds and scrapes are scattered across your face. To put it simply, you look awful.

With a feathered touch, Solomon brushes some hair out of your bruised face. A part of him hopes you can feel his presence, and know that he is here to help and comfort you.

Solomon is not a healing wizard, but he does know a few healing spells. Though it would be dangerous to try and heal your major injuries, he can at least do something.

Mustering some golden light in his palm, Solomon gently swaths the light over your face. The light seeps into your skin and slowly mends the wounds in your face. He’s even able to get the bruises around your black eye to mostly disappear. Solomon hums happily to himself as he admires his work. Even though you can’t speak to him, he hopes you’re not as in much pain anymore.

“You have to make it through, MC,” Solomon whispers to you. “We can’t go on without you,” Solomon’s voice cracks as he says the word “you.” He’s starting to cry but he doesn’t care who hears him. “I can’t go on without you.”

The tender and vulnerable moment is shattered as the whooshing of the curtains and the flooding of a light source berates Solomon’s senses.

“Sir!” A shrill woman’s voice cries out. “What in the blazes are you doing here?!”

Solomon overcomes the initial shock of being surprised and looks at the woman who has disturbed him. It takes his eyes a second to adjust to the bright hospital lights behind her, but he can eventually see that it’s the same nurse he met when you were being wheeled into the ER.

“What are you doing here?! How did you even get in here?!” The nurse continues to interrogate him.

“Ma’am, I can—”

The nurse doesn’t give Solomon time to explain as she pulls a walkie-talkie out of her pocket. “Security!” She screams into the small device.

“Shit!” Solomon curses, feeling like a cornered rat.

He could use his manipulation magic, but he’s not sure he could manipulate a whole security force after already using so much magic to teleport. He would have to handle this situation like every guy does when he gets caught with his girl – out through the window.

The sorcerer quickly turns on his heel and bolts to the window. His shaky fingers make it difficult to unlatch the locks.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” The nurse continues to scream, as she claws at Solomon in an attempt to get him off the window sill.

Solomon shoves off the nurse with a quick “Sorry!” before opening the window. Solomon pokes his head out the window; it’s quite a drop. It won’t kill him if he falls, but he’s definitely going to get hurt.

“Don’t even think about it!” The nurse screams, tugging at Solomon’s legs to try and pull him back into the room. He knows she’s doing it for his own health and safety, but now is not the time for this!

Solomon, thinking on his feet, quickly disrobes his long jacket and holds it in his hands by the sleeves. In one swift movement, he lunges out the window. The force is enough to get him to slip out of the nurse’s grip, but now he’s free-falling, but he was ready for this. Using the last bit of his magical energy, Solomon creates a small flame in the palm of his hand. He holds his jacket by the sleeves above him like a parachute and uses the flame to blow hot air into the fabric, essentially making a very poor hot air balloon that is rapidly falling.

The makeshift hot air balloon-parachute is enough to slow his fall a little bit, but the sorcerer still hits the ground with a loud thud and a long groan. It’s only thanks to the adrenaline coursing through his blood stream that Solomon is able to stand up and limp off the hospital grounds.

Thankfully, no security or police officers chase after him as he limps into his home and locks the door behind him. He hadn’t broken any bones thanks to his little trick, but he’s definitely going to have some bruises. A big, nasty, purple bruise is already showing on his thigh from the poor landing.

“I think I’ve had enough adventure for one day,” Solomon wheezes as he limps to the bathroom.

He takes a hot shower in an attempt to soothe his aching body before limping into bed, not even bothering to change into some pajamas or pick his dirty clothes off of the bathroom floor.

The next morning, Solomon’s body is covered in ugly bruises from his long fall. His body screams in pain as the sorcerer slowly crawls out of his bed and onto his feet. He tugs on a plain and boring outfit, not currently having the strength to dress in his normal, magical-looking attire.

For breakfast, Solomon heats up more of the slop he had made the previous day. How he is able to stomach his own cooking when a demon can’t must be some kind of force of nature.

Solomon, with his warm bowl of ‘food,’ slowly walks into the living room, sits down, and turns on the TV, but his mind is elsewhere. He doesn’t regret sneaking in last night to see you, even if it nearly cost him a few bones. In fact, he would do it again; he would do it every night until you were awake and better. It brought him immense comfort to just see you breathing, to know you were alive. He also hoped that his presence brought you some comfort, even if you didn’t consciously know he was there.

But he needs a better plan if he’s going to pull the same stunt tonight. He can’t get around teleporting, that’s just a risk he’s going to have to take. But he can prepare a flame proof tarp that will work as a better parachute for him to float down in. Hopefully then he could actually land on his feet instead of splatting onto the pavement. But he also needs something to help him hide from the nurse when she comes to check in on you. Your room in the ICU is small and cramped, so there’s nowhere for him to hide. But there is one thing that help him work around this situation; something he hasn’t used in a long time.

Solomon eats the rest of his concoction before limping into his room. He gets on his knees and pulls out a small trunk from under his bed. He sends two magical whisps into the rusty and beaten-up padlock to unlock it for him, as he’s lost the key a very long time ago. When the lock clicks open, Solomon opens the trunk. Inside is a variety of very old magical oddments; potions that have likely gone bad now, old herbs that would likely fizzle to dust if you touched them, some old cloaks that have lost their colors, and a small assortment of wands.

Wands were usually given to very new and inexperienced witches, wizards, sorcerers, and sorceresses to help them draw their magic forward until they could do it without the help of the wand. Solomon hasn’t held a wand in who knows how long, but he might need it for the first time in a few centuries.

Solomon can’t use an invisibility spell in your room because the teleportation spell will eat up most of his magical power, and he needs whatever remaining energy he will have left to conjure a small flame during his escape. But in theory, a wand’s help should give him just enough energy to cast a short invisibility spell, that will hopefully last until the nurse leaves your room.

Solomon looks over the few wands he has. Each wand had a different strength and was particularly good at certain kinds of spells. Solomon never had a big collection of wands since he was naturally talented at a young age. While that was a wonderful thing back then, and has been through his life, he wishes now that his collection was at least slightly larger than it currently is.

Solomon ends up choosing a pearly, ivory wand. The ivory smoothly twists around itself before coming to a point at the tip. The tip itself is also ivory with five small prongs pointing up to symbolize the 5 elements. Small, thin bars of silver connect the prongs together to make an upright pentagram. A sapphire encase in a pearl is at the butt end of the wand. This is the most expensive wand Solomon has in his small collection, which hopefully translates it to being his most powerful.

Solomon carefully sets the ivory wand on his bed so he can close, relock, and slide the trunk back under his bed. Solomon stands back up onto shaky legs, grabs the wand, and takes it over to a small vanity in his room. Solomon sits down in the vanity’s chair and pulls some selenite out of one of the drawers. While the vanity was supposed to be used for making one look nice, Solomon preferred to use it as an enchanting station, where he also enjoyed testing out his magical theories and writing notes. Though off to the side, he does have a few face masks that were gifts from Asmodeus.

Solomon places the wand close to the mirror of the vanity, then places a few small bars of selenite around the wand to charge it. He hadn’t touched the thing in so many years, the sorcerer doesn’t even know if the wand still works. And if it does, if it will even respond to him. But he at least has to try. But before he can try it out, he has to charge it first.

With the selenite charging his wand, Solomon anxiously limps around his home. He doesn’t know what he should do to pass the time until night falls. Solomon wonders again if he should contact the brothers; put them in the loop of the current events. But again, Solomon turns down his idea. He doesn’t need to worry or stress them out with your injuries. The House of Lamentation would turn into a mad house if they knew you were hit by a truck. Nothing – not even Lord Diavolo and Barbatos – would be able to stop them from getting to you, and likely killing the truck driver.

Solomon tries to distract himself by looking for new recipes for him to butcher try online. When that doesn’t work, he attempts to try out new potions. But when his thoughts wonder away from potion making, Solomon nearly creates an exploding potion on accident from not paying attention, so he swiftly gives up on that idea. So instead, the sorcerer tries to make a flame-proof tarp for a parachute. In theory, if he can use more fire to make more hot air without setting his make-shift parachute on fire, he can float safely down to the ground.

Solomon grabs a dusty tarp from one of the several storage spaces in his house. It’s very large and dirty, why he bought it and how long it’s been in storage are questions he can’t answer. Solomon spends a good ten minutes trying to wash the tarp in his kitchen sink. Thanks to its sheer size, it’s very difficult to try and maneuver the thing in the sink. By the time it’s all clean, there’s water all over Solomon and his kitchen floor.

Solomon then hangs the wet tarp outside to dry. Once it’s hanging, he replaces his wet clothes with dry ones and cleans the water off the floor. Solomon’s nervous anxiety is preventing him from trying to relax while waiting for the tarp to dry. So, the Human World’s greatest sorcerer, passes the time by cleaning his home. Which admittedly, his house did need. He had been a little negligent towards his home recently, as he’s been caught up in his own studies.

After about an hour of cleaning, the tarp is completely dry. Solomon brings the tarp back inside and starts cutting it down to a more manageable size. Small enough for him to fold and take with him, but also large enough to catch his weight as he falls from the window in your room. Once satisfied with the cut tarp, he fetches a jar of gold hellfire newt gel. The stuff was nearly impossible to get in large quantities, so this little jar could easily run for thousands if not millions of Grimm. But Solomon had his ways of acquiring precious amenities from time to time.

What made this gel so valuable is that it could make anything almost completely fireproof. The gel could still be melted down and ruined, but it would take an insane amount of heat for it to do so.

Solomon applies the gel onto the tarp on both sides. By the time he’s finished, half of his jar is gone, and the tarp and his hands are sticky and slimy. Solomon places the tarp outside again for the gel to dry as Solomon washes his hands and places the jar of gel back into its hiding place. The great sorcerer resumes cleaning while waiting for the tarp to dry.

By the time the tarp is ready for use, Solomon’s whole house is squeaky clean, and the moon and stars have settled comfortably in the sky.

Solomon puts on his usual attire and folds up the (hopefully) flame proof tarp, and tucks it away into one of his pockets for later use. He also grabs his wand from the vanity, tucking it away into a different pocket before speed walking out the door.

Solomon takes swift strides to get to the hospital. He retreats into the bushes once again and slinks his way to the general location where your room is. He’s easily able to locate you with the waypoint still present in your room. With his magic, he teleports his spirit then his body into your room. He sputters for breath again as he struggles to breathe on the floor of your room. But he is getting a little better at teleporting now, even if it’s still an uncomfortable process.

Solomon stands on shaky legs and stays by your bedside. He holds your hand and talks to you quietly, wishing that somehow, you knew he was there. Tomorrow, he should bring a book, and he can read it to you to pass the time.

“Please wake up soon,” He whispers to you, gently gliding his thumb across the back of your palm. “You’re so strong. You’ve overcome greater challenges. I know you can do it. So please, just wake up.”

Solomon can suddenly hear the quiet footfalls of someone approaching the room. It could be a patient, or someone on the staff team walking by, but it could also be your nurse coming to do her nightly tests. Solomon needs to act quickly!

Solomon gets over to the other side of your bed, away from the side of the curtain the nurse opened the previous night. He crouches down, trying to make himself as small as possible next to one of the machines you’re hooked up to. Solomon grabs his wand from his pocket and waves it around, drawing a sigil in the air. He mutters something in Latin before aiming the wand at himself. A small, little silver, glittery ball of magic flies at Solomon. Upon making contact, there’s a small poof. Solomon doesn’t have time to check if he’s invisible or not as the nurse from yesterday opens your curtain and walks inside.

She walks up to your bedside, seeming to examine you. She mutters some things quietly to herself as she writes observations down on her clipboard. She checks on the machines, writing numbers down into her clipboard. She checks your heart monitor, blood pressure, and other vitals before leaving your room, closing the curtain behind her.

Solomon stands up from his hiding spot. The movement causes the magic to wear off as he hears and feels another poof, making him visible once more. Solomon lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding; his heart is loud and thunderous in his ears. But he did it, and now he gets more time with you.

Solomon spends another two hours with you in your room, holding your hand the entire time. He tells you about his new theories and studies, how much he misses you and wishes you were conscious, retelling old stories from the Devildom, and cracking a few awful jokes.

When the rising sun starts to stream through your window, Solomon decides it’s time to leave. He gives a very gentle kiss on your forehead before walking over to the window. He opens it up and crawls onto the sill. He gives you one last look of longing before he shifts his weight out the window in a free-fall. Solomon grabs the flameproof tarp and quickly unravels it. He holds it above his head with one hand as the tarp takes the shape of a balloon from the air rushing under it. With his free hand, Solomon summons the largest flame his near empty magical reservoirs allow him too. The hot air is caught in the tarp, which slows his fall into a rapidly descending float. Solomon hits the ground with a thud, but he’s able to land on his feet and not fall, even though his knees will feel it in about an hour. But on the bright side, the tarp worked, and it didn’t catch on fire!

For several more days, Solomon would repeat this process. He’d do something to pass the time during the day, sneak into your room at night, visit with you for as much time as he could, hide away with magic once the nurse showed up, fall out the window, run back to his place without getting spotted, fall asleep, then repeat the very next day.

It had been about a week since your accident in the street, and Solomon was beginning to worry you might never wake up from your coma. He considered using the extra magic in his wand to further heal your injuries. Because at least in theory, the fewer things your body was putting back together, the less energy you would expend, and therefore, the sooner you would come out of your coma. But the thought of messing with the natural flow of human anatomy and physiology did not sit well with the sorcerer, and quickly scrapped the idea.

So, Solomon spends his day flipping through his several books of potions, trying to find something that might help you recover.

A potion of strength? No, that’ll just make your muscles super strong for a little bit and not help you heal any. If anything, it might overexert your body. A philter of endurance? No, it’s not like you’re running a marathon anytime soon. Potion of health? Well, that would be useful, if it actually contributed to wound-healing rather than losing fat.

Finally, Solomon finds something that might just work; a potion of regeneration. It’s used for dire cases, such as needing to stop hemorrhaging, or in extreme cases, regrowing a lost limb. It was very strong and potent, and would likely be too strong for your injured body to handle at the moment. But if Solomon could just weaken the potion’s effects, then you should recover at a slow and steady pace – that is hopefully at least a little faster than your current healing pace.

Solomon goes over the list of ingredients to see if he has them. Since this is a vital potion to have around, he has most of the ingredients. For extreme uses – like limb regeneration – Solomon would need a few more ingredients to get that effect. But since Solomon needs a relatively weak potion, then he doesn’t need any exotic ingredients, except one. Essence of an angel is his missing ingredient. This could come from a feather, a tear, a drop of blood, or even just having an angel bless your potion. But with Simeon and Luke being back in the Celestial Realm, Solomon will just have to do without.

Solomon heads into his kitchen and places a medium sized pot on the stove. He fills the pot with honey, some dried lavender, a squeeze of lemon, and some ginger mead. Since he has no angel essence, the sorcerer attempts to recreate the closest thing he can to the ancient Greek gods’ ambrosia. If a drink like that is good enough to be favored by gods, then its good enough for a potion! But Solomon imbues some of his own magic into the concoction, just to be safe.

While the ingredients congeal together in the pot, Solomon places a bottle of water outside to collect the energy of the sun. This sun water will be used as the base for the potion. Back inside, Solomon prepares and mixes together the dry ingredients in a separate bowl; a dash of pink-Himalayan salt, a sprig of rosemary, one minced garlic clove, a teaspoon of turmeric, a healthy dose of sage, and lastly, a sprinkle of ground-up lizard scales. Solomon combines and crushes the ingredients together in a mortar and pestle, taking several minutes to make sure everything has been finely ground up into a powder.

Solomon is a wonderful chef and alchemist, it’s a mystery why no one will ever eat his cooking, especially when he can brew up potions like a prodigy!

Solomon sets the powder of dry ingredients aside as he stirs his homemade ambrosia every few minutes until the sun sets. With the moon beginning to peak over the horizon, Solomon brings his bottle of sun water inside. He takes two tablespoons of the powder from the dry ingredients and dumps it into the water. The powder sizzles a little upon contact with the warm water, but it produces a lovely aroma. Solomon retreats into his bedroom and re-enters the kitchen with a potion bottle and cork in hand. The sorcerer carefully adds a full ladle of his homemade ambrosia into the potion bottle. The bottle shudders as the sorcerer adds the warm, enchanted liquid, but thankfully it doesn’t break under the natural force that magic has. He tops off the bottle with the sun water that has all the dry ingredients floating through it. Solomon corks the bottle and gives it a good shake. Once finished, the liquid inside has turned to the color of rose gold. The regeneration in his potion book looked mostly gold, but without having an angel’s essence and needing to tone back the potion’s strength, it makes sense for the coloration to look a little dull.

Solomon wraps his potion in a little cloth for protection before pocketing it with his wand and tarp in his long white jacket.

Solomon wastes zero time booking it to the hospital once the moon hangs high in the sky. The sorcerer follows his normal routine of hiding in the bushes and finding the magical waypoint in your room. By now, he’s able to land on his feet when he teleports, though his knees are very shaky and his breath very unsteady.

Solomon swallows thickly to dampen his dry throat as he slowly walks up to your bedside. He’s done this for seven nights straight now, yet it still makes his day, but also breaks his heart every time he sees you. Hopefully this cycle ends now.

“I have a gift for you, MC,” Solomon whispers as he digs around in his pocket. “I made it myself, for you. I hope you like it,” He whispers, holding up the potion bottle. He removes its cloth protection and tucks it away back into his pocket. “I know it won’t be as delicious or filling as a homecooked meal – which I can definitely do for you when you come back home. But beside the point, this should help you; heal your body, rejuvenate your spirit, and bring you back,” Solomon stares at your expressionless face for a few seconds, praying you can hear him, but your eyes remain closed. “Please, please come back,” He mumbles as he uncorks the potion bottle.

Very slowly, Solomon parts your lips just enough to rest the lip of the bottle against your lips without moving your jaw. Solomon only puts a few drops of his concoction into your mouth at a time, before moving your head just enough to get you to swallow without obstructing your neck brace. Solomon repeats this process for several minutes until he was able to get you to drink just a little under a fourth of the bottle. Solomon gently pulls away with the bottle when he hears your heart monitor start to beep a little faster.

Solomon watches and waits with bated breath as your eyelid twitches, and one of your fingers’ contracts. With a breathy groan, your eyes barely open. Solomon has to hold a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from crying and being heard, despite silent sobs rippling through his shoulders. Your lips part and close slightly as you start to become aware of your surroundings. Your ears register a beeping sound coming from somewhere in the room, as you stare at a plain, white ceiling. It’s dark here, where ever you are. It’s a relief when you see Solomon come into your field of view, with tear drops dripping down his cheeks.

“Solomon…? Where are we…?” Your voice is barely a whisper, but it’s music to Solomon’s ears.

“Don’t worry about that right now, MC. Please just rest,” The sorcerer whispers back, moving some hair out of your eyes with the lightest of touches.

You can’t move any of your limbs, not even your head. You can only move your eyes, which does little to comfort you. You can hear the beeping become a little quicker. What is that beeping? Where are you? Why is Solomon crying?

“What’s going on? Where are we?” You ask again, the beeping in the background becomes even faster.

“Shh, it’s okay, MC. Please just rest, everything is okay,” The sorcerer tries to soothe you in an attempt to get you to calm down, but him not answering your questions only stresses you out more. The beeping speeds up more.

“Solomon, what—” Your breath catches in your throat, and it doesn’t move. It’s stuck, you can’t breathe. You choke on air that isn’t in your lungs.

“MC?” Solomon asks with concern, examining your bewildered and panicked face. “MC?! What’s wrong?!” The sorcerer yells, not caring who hears him.

Your eyes roll back into your head as your heart monitor flatlines. “Move!” An unknown voice yells, shoving Solomon across the room. It’s your nurse, Solomon never registered hearing her come in.

“What’s happening?!” Solomon screams as more nurses and a doctor rush into the room.

“She’s going into shock. She wasn’t supposed to be awake yet. What did—" The nurse looks at him with shock, before her features quickly twist into one of anger, hatred, and disgust. “What did you do to her?!” The nurse screams at him.

“I-I…” Solomon stutters. The world is moving too fast, yet it also seems at a standstill. The blinding light of the hospital overstimulates his senses. The sound of a charging defibrillator nearly makes him vomit. His hands shake wildly as he clutches onto the potion bottle.

“Did you poison her?!” The nurse screams at Solomon, trying to swipe the potion out of his hands. But Solomon ends up dropping it in his shaky and sweaty grip, sending shattered glass and liquid everywhere.

“N-No, I was j-just trying to… I-I was just trying to h-help,” Solomon whispers as he watches the scene playing out behind the nurse.

The doctor and the nurses clamor and shout over each other as they press the defibrillator to your chest several times. Your body jerks with each and every attempt, but your heart monitor does not resume its beeping.

“By the stars, MC, please,” Solomon whispers. “Please, MC, please, you can’t leave!” Solomon starts to shout. He tries to get closer to you, but the nurse holds him where he is, preventing him from getting to you. “MC! MC! Can you hear me?! MC, please! You have to wake up, MC! Please, just wake up! MC! MC!”

Your world starts to go white as you fail to breathe. You can hear someone shouting your name – or at least you think it’s your name – but they’re too far away. Everything and everyone is too far away. It’s so cold, so very cold.

The white fades into black at the edge of your vision. The screaming has gone silent. You feel nothing. You can hear a gentle flap of wings in your vicinity, but you can’t tell if it’s coming towards or away from you. You feel something or someone move you over, as if they were repositioning you, but everything is black; you can’t see who or what it is.

“Hello, MC. It’s so good to see you again. I’m sorry it just had to be under these circumstances,” A warm yet oddly familiar voice greets.

You feel the person or creature pick you up and carry you away. You hear the flap of wings and feel yourself start to ascend.

You don’t feel cold anymore.

Chapter Text

You feel nearly weightless as the creature or thing that’s carrying you floats higher into the sky. Or at least, that’s what you feel like is happening, with your still pretty numb senses. Light beams onto your closed eyelids, bathing your body in welcomed warmth. You can feel a light breeze in your hair, and your ears hear the soft sound of strong wings flapping. It takes several minutes and several tries for you to pry your eyes open. But when the blinding light hits your sore and sensitive eyes, you wish you had just stayed unconscious. You close your eyes again with a groan, trying to move your hands up to your face to further cover your eyes.

You hear a soft and friendly chuckle come from right above you. “Are you finally awake, little lamb?”

“What the…?” You mumble with a hoarse voice.

You know that voice, you swear you do. So why can’t you remember who that soothing voice belongs to?

You try to open your eyes again to see who has you in their arms. It takes another several minutes for your eyes to adjust to the light as you very slowly open them. But once your eyes have finally adjusted, the sight before you is one of pure beauty.

You’re above the clouds. Literally, you can see the clouds below you. The sun is rising right in front of you, painting the sky in a wide mirage of oranges and yellows, with a few shades of purple starting to flee. It’s the most beautiful sun rise you’ve ever seen.

“It’s breath taking, isn’t it?” The voice asks.

You move your head away from the sun, forcing your eyes to look away at one of Earth’s natural beauties to look at your escort.

“Simeon…?” You ask, not quite sure if your eyes are deceiving you or not.

Simeon chuckles with a soft smile on his face, and a golden halo floating above his head. “I’m glad you remember me, little lamb. Thank you for allowing me to escort you.”

“Well, of course I would remember you,” You mumble quietly, your voice still too weak to project fully. But honestly, how could you forget Simeon? He’s the most handsome angel you’ve ever met! Now admittedly, you’ve only met two angels, counting Simeon, and the other is a child in angel years, but still! “But what do you mean when you say you’re escorting me?”

You see Simeon move his lips, but no words come out. You can’t even hear the gentle flap of his wings anymore. It’s as if your ears suddenly just gradually turned off. But you can hear something, a voice. It sounds familiar, but you have trouble placing who the voice belongs to as it speaks to you.

”Our dearest MC, how it pains me to see you go out like this. Your mortal coil was cut too short, too soon. Please understand that if I knew this would have happened, I would have let you stay in the Devildom. I would have let you lived with the brothers in the House of Lamentation for the remainder of your mortal years, if that were to be your wish. I am so sorry I didn’t do anything to help you. But even more so, I’m sorry I never got to know you better than just a friend. I’m sorry I’ve failed you. Please forgive me. Signed, Lord Diavolo.”

“Lord Diavolo?” You speak out, turning your head to find the young prince. If you can hear him then he must be close, right?

“Lord Diavolo? What about him?” Simeon asks you, a very confused look on his face.

“Did you not hear him? He was talking to me. He said he was very sorry about something, but I don’t know exactly what he means.”

You look around some more, and then reality finally hits your tired brain. The sun is right there before you, slowly rising into the sky. If there’s the sun, and your literally off the ground in the sky, above the clouds, then Diavolo isn’t here. He’s in the Devildom. But how could you hear him? And on top of that, where are you and Simeon right now?

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear anything,” Simeon apologizes, also looking around, trying to find whatever you’re attempting to spot.

But it happens again, another voice in your ears, despite no corporeal form to house the voice being somewhere nearby.

“Our lovely MC, I’m so sorry, for everything. But no matter how many times I apologize, or how much I feel bad about myself, there is nothing that can bring you back. I could have done something, I should have done something. I should have known something would have happened in the Human World. But I didn’t, because I didn’t look into the future, and for that I am sorry, for I could have saved you. The brothers tried to get to you, they tried to save you to make up for my negligence. But I stopped them, every single time. I failed them, I failed you, and I failed the Young Master. I am so, so sorry. Asmodeus and Satan were right all along. Maybe if I hadn’t been so negligent and stuck in my duties, perhaps we could have saved you. I don’t expect your forgiveness, I won’t even ask for it. All I hope is that you are beyond happy, wherever you are. Signed, Barbatos.”

“MC? MC, are you alright?” Simeon asks, lightly tapping your cheek, forcing your attention back onto him. “Are you okay? You looked really lost in thought just now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. It was just… I was just thinking,” You lie. You know you shouldn’t lie to an angel, especially one that is your friend, but you don’t exactly know what’s going on right now.

“Did you hear another voice?” Simeon asks, with nothing but genuine care and concern in his beautiful, blue eyes.

You sigh. “I did. It was Barbatos this time,” You mumble, slumping your head into his chest; your buddy suddenly feels so heavy against Simeon. You can feel the angel clutch you a little tighter to himself.

“Maybe they’re saying goodbye,” Simeon tries to soothe, brushing gentle, gloved fingers through your hair.

“Saying goodbye? What do you mean? Where are we even going?” You look back up at the angel for answers.

“Did you not hear me earlier when I told you why I was escorting you?” You shake your head, and Simeon chuckles a little. “That’s okay, I can explain it again. For you see, little lamb, you passed away. I’m escorting you to the Celestial Realm for your soul’s judgement. So maybe what you’re hearing is everyone in the Devildom saying goodbye.”

“I’m dead?!” You nearly shout. Simeon holds your head close to his chest and shushes you quietly.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. It was quite hectic in the hospital room you were in. I didn’t want to watch you suffer in your broken body anymore. So, I asked Archangel Michael if I could personally be your escort to the Celestial Realm.”

“What…?” You feel like you’re drowning. You can’t breathe. You can’t process what you’re being told. There’s too much going on all at once.

Despite your growing panic, another voice creeps directly into your ears.

”My love, not even one-thousand letters could explain how much I miss you, how much I grieve you, and how much I regret not doing more sooner. I should have come get you immediately; as soon as we knew something was amiss. I am so sorry, my love. I should have been more open and loving with you. Even when my brothers were around. I should have never let my pride get in the way; I should have loved you in every moment that I got, even if that meant others would watch. I’m so sorry, you were always too good for me, and now you’re gone. I should have been a better lover for you. I’m sorry it took your death for me to realize that. You deserve nothing but the world, my love; if you will allow me to still call you that. I love you and I miss you every hour of every day. Love, Lucifer.”

You feel a tear starting to poke past your eye. “But you never did anything wrong,” You mutter to someone who isn’t there.

“More voices?” Simeon asks, gently caressing away the tear in your eye.

“I don’t want to talk about this one,” You mumble.

Simeon nods, and the two of you stay silent for a few moments as you slowly fly ever higher towards the Celestial Realm.

“Simeon?” You ask, getting the angel’s attention.

“Yes, little lamb?”

“What was going on in the hospital room when you got there? The place where I died, what was happening?”

Simeon sighs. “It’s not a very light nor pleasant story, little lamb.”

“I want to hear it,” You say with a tone that kind of sounds like Lucifer’s in a way; stern and unmoving. The angel knows he can’t get you to change your mind.

“Okay, if that is what you would like,” Simeon clears his throat. “When I got there, everything was chaos. Doctors and nurses were around your body, trying to get your heart to beat once more. But your body was too injured, too hurt, on both the inside and outside. I already knew upon arrival that they weren’t going to succeed in bringing you back. Even though you didn’t know it yet, your soul had already left your body. Your spirit was levitating just a few inches above your body, waiting for escort. This experience for you was likely a loss and numbing of your senses,” Simeon swallows dryly, preparing himself for the next part of the story. “Solomon was there, too; begging, crying, and screaming, if you can believe it or not. I think he was trying to help you, but a nurse wouldn’t let him interfere.”

You can’t believe it. You can’t see it. Solomon the sorcerer being forced to stay on the sidelines, near to the point of groveling just to do something. You can’t even imagine the scenario. Solomon is so old, so mature, and so wise. This isn’t happening, it can’t be. This all has to be some terrible nightmare! You’re not really dead, Simeon isn’t really here, and that whole story of the hospital is just something your brain made up to torment you.

You drag your dominant hand over to your other arm, your movement still slow and weak. You try to pinch yourself, but your grip is too meek. Not that it would matter, anyway. You know this is real, as much as you wish it wasn’t. The cool and fresh scent of Simeon’s cologne is too real. The flapping sound of his wings is too real. The warmth of the sun’s rays is too real.

“Simeon, why was I in the hospital?” You ask with dead looking eyes. Your voice is now small and timid.

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that, little lamb. But we’ll find out once we get to the Celestial Realm,” Simeon smiles down at you. You know he’s trying to help you feel better. His smile is contagious and gentle. “I can’t wait to show you the Celestial Realm, MC. I’ll show you everything; the Palace, the gardens, oh, how I hope you’ll love it!”

You smile, but its fake. While it does sound nice to live in the Celestial Realm, it also breaks your heart all over again to know you’ll likely never return to the Devildom ever again. You’ll never hear or see from your lovers again. And though you’re certain you could fall for Simeon, or another angel, in time, nothing will ever fill the hole in your heart that is reserved for the brothers.

Almost as if on cue, another voice makes itself apparent. This one nearly makes you choke on your own saliva.

”Hey, Treasure. Y’know I’ve never been good at writin’ papers, so don’t go expectin’ this to be good, or somethin’... I don’t even know what I’m doin’; I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doin’, or what I should do... I just feel so lost without ya. I mean, I felt that way when ya went back to the Human World; but now, it’s just… what’s the point anymore? Before you came along, I was just a money-grubbin’ scum bag. But then ya came along and saw some worth in an idiot like me. It won’t ever be the same without ya. I don’t know what to do without ya, I don’t, I really don’t.” The words briefly pause as you hear some quiet, distant sobs. ”I miss ya, Treasure, I miss ya so fuckin’ much. Please come back! Please don’t be dead! Please just come home!”

There’s no signature at the end, but you know by the sound of the voice and the language used that it’s Mammon. Silent tears streak down your face as you attempt to curl yourself into a ball. Simeon doesn’t ask questions this time. Instead, he wipes away your tears and tries his best to comfort you. He lightly taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, little lamb, can you see them?”

You sniffle and cough awkwardly. “See what?”

Simeon carefully positions you so he’s supporting you with one arm – you have to give it to the angel, his arms don’t show much compared to someone like Diavolo, Lucifer, or Beelzebub - but he’s still very strong. With his free arm he points out into a random direction that isn’t directly at the sun.

“Focus your eyes at where I’m pointing,” He gently instructs.

You squint your eyes, trying to focus on what Simeon is pointing at, but you still don’t see anything. “What are you pointing at?”

“Here, maybe this will help.”

With a touch that is as light as a feather, Simeon gently cups your cheek in his hand. You can feel a slight blush come across your cheeks; he’s so gentle and warm. You can feel him use a tiny bit of magic on you, and that’s when you can finally see it.

Where Simeon was pointing is a transparent angel carrying their own soul, presumedly to the Celestial Realm as well. They almost look like ghosts with them looking see-through and near colorless to you.

“Woah,” You can’t help but mutter.

Simeon chuckles, pleased with his little magic trick. “Now, look around you.”

You crane your neck as much as you can to look all around you. There are several more angels carrying departed souls around the two of you. A few wave to Simeon as they catch the two of you staring at them.

“Why couldn’t I see them before?” You ask, looking back at Simeon.

Simeon chuckles a little. “Well, there’s a few reasons for that, little lamb. You didn’t know they were around, so your energy couldn’t detect them. And because you’re in a weakened state without a corporeal form, you needed a little bit of magical help to see them.”

“What do you mean I don’t have a physical body? I can see myself; I look like myself, and you can hold me and touch me,” You observe.

“How observant my lit— you are, MC. To you, you still look like you’re in your human body, because that is what your spirit remembers. And I can hold you like this simply because I am an angel, and escorting souls is simply just one of my duties.”

You look out at the other angels and the souls they escort. It’s hard to see the specific details on their faces with their ghostly appearances and their distance from the two of you.

“Why do the other angels and spirits look like ghosts, while you and I look just fine?” You ask Simeon without looking away from the other angels.

“You can see me just fine because you know me on a personal level, little lamb. If you didn’t know me, or you were escorted by an unknown angel, then they would also look like a ghostly figure to you, as well. And vice versa, too. You look like your normal, colorful self to me also. But if I didn’t know you on a personal level, you would look like the other spirits around us to me.”

You point at one of the nearby angels you were staring at. “Are they all going to the Celestial Realm?”

“You’re full of questions,” Simeon chuckles, but he still has that genuine smile painted on his face. “But that’s okay, I enjoy answering them, and I expect you’ll have several more once we get to the Celestial Realm. But, yes, they’re all going to the Celestial Realm so the spirits can face their judgement.”

The sound of being judged by an Archangel or God himself does not sit well with you for whatever reason; your heart drops into your stomach. “Judgement? What do you mean?”

Simeon chuckles and moves some hair that had blown into your eyes out of your face. “Do not worry about that, little lamb. I know you will pass your judgement. You are a good and caring soul with a heart of gold, after all. I have no doubt that you will be allowed to stay in the Celestial Realm.”

You very highly doubt that, as Simeon did not know your history with the brothers. But at least for the time being, you keep that detail to yourself.

“This should be high enough,” Simeon mutters quietly to himself.

You open your mouth to ask what exactly Simeon means by that, but you quickly shut your mouth as you see Simeon’s halo fly above his head and expand into a giant, golden ring, floating freely in the sky. Silver sparks fly across the enlarged halo before a portal appears in the middle. Simeon flies the two of you through the portal, gently landing on a patch of grass. The portal closes and the halo returns to its normal size, then floats back to its proper place above Simeon’s head.

Simeon gently sets you down onto the ground. Your feet land on the softest grass you’ve ever felt in your life, and your eyes are met with the most beautiful, aethereal scenery. In the distance, a proud and neat palace stands tall. You’re able to make out several gardens flanked to its sides. And the hills in the distance are green and alive with flowers, fresh grass, and fruit trees. Everything here is breath taking.

“Wow,” You whisper, completely awestruck at this new environment.

You can hear Simeon softly chuckle. “Welcome to the Celestial Realm, MC.”

“You actually live here? Like, you get to wake up in this place every single day?” You ask, soaking in more details of the land.

There’s almost no shadows or darkness in these lands. The trees provide shade, of course, but light and life seems to spew from every corner. Angels fly high above overhead. Some are chatting and laughing amongst each other, as others carry baskets of fruits and flowers.

“Yep, this is my birth home. But enough of this – we’ll have plenty of time to go sight-seeing in a little bit – but first, let’s get you judged so you can get your halo and wings,” Simeon gently places his hands on your back as he guides you towards the magnificent palace.

Your stomach does somersaults. You don’t want to be judged, you’re almost certain you will somehow fail. What happens if you fail is beyond you, and frankly, you’re too nervous to ask what happens to human spirits that don’t pass their judgement.

You and Simeon start walking towards the grand palace. Simeon attempts to make small talk, but you’re not really paying him much attention; you’re too focused and fascinated at all the new and vibrant things around you.

But your captivation is swiftly trampled as you hear a familiar voice with no body to accompany it speak directly into your ears.

”D-Dear MC… By the stars, I don’t even know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do! I wish you were here. You always knew what to say or do, and even when you didn’t, you at least helped me feel better when I was sorry for myself. You can’t be dead; you just can’t be! You’re too strong to be dead… I never got to say goodbye.” You hear the familiar voice break as it continues to speak, quietly crying in between words. ”I know this is my chance to tell you goodbye, but this simple letter doesn’t feel good enough for you. I bet everyone else’s letters are so much better than mine, anyway. I never deserved you; you were always too good for me! I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you, that I couldn’t get to you. But I swear I tried, I tried so hard, MC. I couldn’t be your hero. I couldn’t sweep you away and live the best ending with you. I’m so sorry! I always fail at everything...”

The voice does not speak its name at the end. But you know by that tone of voice and the self-hatred that it’s Leviathan. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes; you can barely see through the tears as you try to walk normally and keep your breath steady. You want nothing more than to go up to the third-born and tell him that none of this is his fault, and that there’s nothing he could have done to change or prevent the outcome.

“MC, are you okay? It looks like you’re about to cry,” You hear Simeon speak. With your blurry vision, you see Simeon get in front of you and crouch down to your level. He places two warm and gentle hands on your cheeks. Even through the tears that are beginning to build in your eyes, you can see the concern in his eyes.

“I’m okay,” You lie. “I just stubbed my toe on a pebble a little way back.”

Simeon looks past you, searching for any stones along the way he might have missed. He already knows you’re lying, but he’s trying to be nice about it. “It was another voice, wasn’t it?” He asks with the softest of tones, his gaze returning to your own.

You can only nod. You’re too afraid to use your voice, too afraid that it will break the fragile wall that’s holding back your tears.

“Do you want to talk about it?” The angel asks, sliding his hands down to gently massage your shoulders.

You shake your head, and Simeon is kind enough to end the conversation there. Simeon takes your hand and gives it a firm yet gentle squeeze, letting you know that he is there if you need him for comfort or support, as the two of you continue towards the palace.

As Simeon guides you onto the palace’s grounds, you pass by one of the immaculate gardens. Its hedges are perfectly trimmed, flowers dance elegantly in the gentle breeze, and the air smells fresh and sweet. A few angels are talking quietly amongst themselves as they enjoy tea in the garden. That gives you an idea.

“Simeon, before I face my judgement, can’t we have some tea first? I’ve never had Celestial Realm tea before, and I’d like to learn more about your world, too,” You’re not technically lying, you are interested in learning more about the Celestial Realm, and you haven’t had tea from this world before. But you still feel a little guilty for attempting to use Simeon to delay the inevitable.

Simeon smiles at you. “Certainly, we can do that after your judgement. It will take some time for you to get used to your new wings, so we can enjoy some tea together while you adjust to them.”

Simeon tries to usher you forth through the palace’s front door, but you dig your heels in. “Please, can’t we have tea first? I’d like to learn more about the Celestial Realm first before facing judgement.”

Simeon looks at you, and you can tell by the way his eyes go blank that he’s thinking. Knowing Simeon, he wants to fulfill your wish and make you happy. But his duty likely demands that you get taken to be judged right away. But in the end, Simeon smiles at you; he chose your desire over his work.

“Well, if you insist, then sure, we can have some tea first. It’s been too long since you and I have sat down and talked, anyway.”

You breathe a silent sight of relief; you’re spared, for now.

Simeon opens the front gate to the garden and you leisurely walk in. The air in here is sweet without being overbearing or sickly. You walk over to one of the available, small roundtables and take a seat with Simeon sitting across from you. He keeps his wings tucked in close to his back as to not bump them into anything or anyone. He folds in his wings very similarly to how Lucifer does.

You feel a pang in your heart as your unconscious mind brings up the first-born. You quash the thought before it can overwhelm you with grief. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about such things.

But a voice that doesn’t belong to you betrays your wishes.

”My kitten, I never thought that I’d ever have to carry out the burning of the letters tradition with you. Truth be told, I’ve wanted to write letters to you while you were still here in the House. To hide them in places I knew you would eventually find. That way, you could have little love letters throughout the day that would hopefully make you smile, and of course, provide you something to read to pass the time. But I never imagined that this is how my idea would pan out. I would have written you a thousand letters. I should have, when I had the chance. To share with you all of the poetry we never got to share, the books we never got to read together, and the love I never got to shower you with. I know I was not always agreeable with you in the Devildom, especially when you had first arrived. Too many times I was mean, and let my anger get the best of me. But you, my kitten, have the patience of a saint and the warm love of an eternal flame. I’ll never understand what you saw in me, or why you chose to love me, but every day I cherish the chances you gave me; especially now. I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. I want you to know that everything reminds me of you. I had actually named one of the stray cats that lingers around outside of RAD after you. I hope you don’t mind, but she’s so playful and loves cuddles, just like you, that I couldn’t help myself. I will always carry a part of you in my heart. And please, if you will allow me to be selfish, please carry a piece of me in your own heart. Love, Satan.”

You bite your cheeks and clench your hands into fists. Satan’s personal poetry and writings were always so beautiful and masterfully designed. He would always pour so much effort and love into whatever he wrote down onto paper. To hear him and his poetic words one last time is bittersweet.

Simeon watches your face contort as you try to not react that much to Satan’s words. The angel swiftly stands up and rushes over to a stand that is selling tea, sliced fruits, and a small variety of Celestial Realm sweets. You appreciate Simeon’s awareness in this moment; he’s allowing you to have personal time to collect yourself, but also fetching you something to swallow your feelings. You can process everything after you face judgement; no matter what result said judgement might entail.

You’re able to calm down a little bit when Simeon returns with two cups of hot tea in hand. He places one cup right in front of you before he takes his seat once again. You take a sip of the tea, and it’s delicious, but not as delicious as Barbatos’, in your opinion. It’s slightly sweet and has a light citrus and flowery taste to it. It soothes your nerves and warms your breaking heart. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was a little bit of magic in this tea to make the drinker feel a little bit at ease.

“Thank you for the tea, Simeon. It’s really good; I appreciate it,” You smile softly at the angel, taking another sip of the tea.

“Certainly,” Simeon says gently as he takes a sip of his own tea.

This would be a good time to learn more about the Celestial Realm with Simeon. It was always been a sore subject in the House of Lamentation, and was usually only brought up when mentioning the War, or good times that can never be relived. You look up at Simeon to ask him your questions, but there’s a tense look on his face as he stares down into his teacup, thinking.

“Simeon, are you okay?” You ask, stretching your hand across the table to touch his own.

That snaps the angel out of his stupor as he looks at you with wide eyes, which quickly softens into an awkward chuckle. “Oh, yes, I’m alright. Hehe, excuse me, MC. I hadn’t realized I had gotten lost in my own thoughts,” He says as he takes another sip of his tea.

“What were you thinking about?” You ask him curiously.

He chuckles awkwardly again. “Well, you see, in my eagerness to go pick you up from the Human World, I had accidentally left Luke behind without telling him anything. So, I was just wondering where he might be right now.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. It was very unlike Simeon to not have Luke with him, let alone completely leave the little Cherub behind. “Will he be alright? Do we need to go find him?”

Simeon waves his hand to brush it off. “No, he’ll be okay here. This is his home, after all. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been summoned to the kitchens to prepare some sweet treats for the new souls.”

You sigh a breath of relief and ease yourself back into your seat. You take another sip of your tea; now would be a good time to ask some of your questions about the Celestial Realm.

“Simeon, do you mind if I ask you some questions?” You ask the angel.

Simeon sets his tea cup down and gives you his full attention. “Of course, little lamb. What kind of questions do you have?”

“What is life like here in the Celestial Realm for a human spirit that has been judged?”

“Ah, good question!” Simeon places his arms on the table and leans forward. “Two things will happen once you face your judgement; you’ll either be sent down to the Devildom, or you will be permitted citizenship here in the Celestial Realm. But please don’t worry about that, little lamb. I am more than certain you will pass your judgement.” Simeon gives you a big smile before continuing. “Once you’ve acquired your wings and halo, you can essentially do whatever you want. You’ll be given a home, and you’ll never have to work another day in your life. You can eat fruit and walk through the gardens all day, every day, if that is what you so desire. Or, you can rise through the ranks we have as angels. You’ll be given duties and responsibilities, of course. But with that comes its own set of perks and rewards,” Simeon takes another sip of his tea before continuing. “Some human spirits rise through the ranks so that they may be reborn again. These spirits feel like they didn’t accomplish enough, or something specific, in their mortal life, and wish to try again.”

“How are angels like you born?” You ask, finishing the rest of your tea.

“The same way humans have children,” Simeon shrugs. “Except that a couple must go to one of the Archangels or our Father if they wish to conceive a child. Because we house passed on human spirits and natural-born angels, we must ask ahead of time to avoid overpopulation, since both angels and human spirits live very, very long lives.”

“So, angels and passed on spirits are not immortal?”

Simeon shakes his head, finishing his own tea. “No. It’s similar to how things work in the Devildom, for example. Everything perishes down there, eventually, and that same rule applies to up here. Take Lord Diavolo, for example; one day, he will pass away, and his father as well. Just like his father’s father. And his father’s father’s father. And his father’s father’s father’s father. And his father’s father’s—”

“Alright, I get it!” You loudly interrupt the angel.

Simeon chuckles. “My apologies, I let that one run away with me. But no, the only immortal beings in all of the three realms is my Father and his Archangels. We weren’t originally immortal, either. We were gifted immortality by my Father so that we could forever serve him.”

“Sounds… lovely,” You say, trying to sound polite. But the idea of being given immortality simply to serve and perform the duty of another doesn’t sound all that pleasing to you.

Simeon seems to notice. “I know to you that might seem rather dreadful; more of a curse than a blessing. But I promise you that none of the Archangels agreed to this against their will. It is actually a great honor.”

You nod along, not entirely sure how to feel about it. But all of this talk of the Archangels reminds you of something.

“Will I get to meet the other Archangels, or your Father?” You ask Simeon.

“Yes and no. You will be judged by one of the Archangels. As your escort, I cannot tell you which one until we get to the chamber. It can’t be me because I know you on a personal level, and biases would get in the way. It’s also unlikely you’ll meet my Father, at least not right away. He only really summons human spirits for certain reasons, such as rising through the ranks or reincarnation.”

You nod along and prepare another question on your tongue, but before it can sneak past your lips, you’re interrupted by another intruding voice.

”M-My d-dove…” You hear a voice stutter and cry. It’s very uncharacteristic of how this voice usually speaks. ”By the stars, out of all the souls in the Human World, why did it have to be you? Why, why, out of everyone, why did it have to be you?! The only one who could rival my own beauty, gone! I knew you were always too pretty for this world, but that didn’t mean the world should have taken you from us,” The voice fades into a whisper during the last sentence. You hear him take a troubled and stuttered breath before continuing. ”There’s so many things we never got to do together. So many positions I never got to put you in. I never thought this would ever happen; where some living creature – let alone a human – would be able to steal my own heart from me, and keep it. No one, no creature, no thing could ever replace you, my dove. No witch, no succubus, no other human could ever make me love them as much as I loved you. Is this some kind of twisted punishment? Were you really just too good for us? Why, why, why?! Why did it have to be you?!” You hear the voice break down and sob hysterically, until it fades into silence.

Once again there’s no signature, but you know it’s Asmodeus speaking to you. Getting the Avatar of Lust to be honest about his love rather than his lust is a rare occurrence. But to hear his raw emotions – so blatant and exposed – is something you rarely ever see. And the worst part is that you can’t comfort him. You can’t cradle his head, wipe away his tears, and tell him that everything is okay; that you’re okay. But you can’t because he’s not here, and you’re not there.

You feel gentle hands slowly intertwine themselves with your clenched fists. You look down to see two gloved hands gently hold your own hands, preventing you from digging your nails into your palms. You look up and see Simeon looking at you with a mixture of sadness and concern.

“Little lamb, are you okay?” He asks in a volume that’s barely above a whisper.

You sniffle, and pull one of your hands out of his to wipe away your tears. You return your hand back in his, thankful for his warmth and comfort.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” You tell him, though it’s more for yourself.

Simeon just nods, then sighs. “I think we should go now. It’s time.”

You know what Simeon means, even though he’s being vague about it. You sigh, then slowly nod your head. It’s time to go and face your judgement.

Simeon stands up without ever letting go of your hands. He comes around the small roundtable and helps you to your feet.

Still without letting one of your hands go, Simeon walks with you out of the garden and into the palace of the Celestial Realm. Where the Demon Lord’s Castle interior was all gold, the palace here was filled with colors. Several different colored rugs were lying down on the ground, soft and velvety curtains hung by large windows that illuminated the entrance hall. The ceiling was tall with ornamental paintings hung over your head as you walked inside. Spiraled and carefully decorated ornamented pillars helped support the ceiling with various depictions of art adorned with silver and gold. Angels of various sizes and ranks walked through the grand halls of the palace, a few even flew above overhead.

“This place is beautiful,” You mumble, trying to take in every detail at once.

“Just wait, little lamb, this is only the beginning! Once you get judged I can take you almost everywhere in the palace. I’ll show you the guest rooms, the art gallery, the history chamber, and so much more!” Simeon exclaims, his voice peaking a little bit in excitement. His happiness to have you here as an angel with him here in the Celestial Realm is so genuine. “I will personally organize a feast to celebrate your new wings and halo. You’ll get to meet a few other angels, and Luke will be happy to see you again, too!”

You nod. You’re still not certain about passing your judgment, but Simeon has so much faith in you. He’s also judged a plethora of spirits before you came along, and he still seems confident in your chances of success. Maybe you actually will pass this judgement. Maybe there isn’t really anything to worry about. You’ll miss the brothers and what life in the Devildom was like, of course. But you’d get to live and start a new life here, in the Celestial Realm, with Simeon. And you could always go down and visit with Simeon from time to time. Maybe if you rose through the hierarchy of ranks a little bit, you’d get free access to visit the brothers whenever you want!

Your daydreaming is interrupted as you’re suddenly yanked to the side. Simeon is holding you close to his chest as he apologizes to another angel; one arm is wrapped firmly around your shoulders while the other holds onto your hand tightly. This new angel is tall, has light tan skin, short ash-blonde hair, and blue eyes. If it weren’t for Simeon, you would have walked right into him. This unknown angel seems rather stoic looking as the two of you lock eyes.

“My apologies, Raphael,” You hear Simeon say. “This is MC. I’m taking her to receive her judgement.”

This Raphael character smiles a tiny bit. “Hello MC, it’s nice to meet you. Yes, we’re expecting you. Your judgement will be held by—”

Raphael’s lips continue to move, but you can’t hear him. You already know what this means; another voice.

”Hi, MC. I don’t really know what I should write down; I don’t think anyone does right now. There are so many things racing through my mind right now, but when I try to grab one thought to try and write it down, it just runs away from me again,” You hear a long and tired sigh. ”I don’t know what I should do. I don’t know what I should do for you, for myself, and for the others. I feel like I need to do something, but I don’t know what. Belphie rarely sleeps anymore, he says his dreams have been plagued with nightmares about all the various scenarios that could have brought your death. I kind of know what he means, in a way. Everywhere I go, it’s like I can feel you with me. Like when we would go to Hell’s Kitchen or Madame Scream’s. Except, you’re not there, but the usual things you would order are,” The voice cracks on the last few words, but is quick to regain his composure. ”I still bring snacks to your room sometimes, hoping that everything is just a bad dream; that you didn’t go back to the Human World, that you didn’t really die, that somehow, you’re still here with us. But you’re not. I know I shouldn’t, I know it’s not good for me, and I don’t want anyone else to find out about it, but I still find myself nearly every night at your bedroom door with enough snacks for me and you. Some nights I leave a few cookies on your pillow, hoping that the next night they’ll be eaten, and I’ll know you’re okay. I know that won’t ever happen, but I still hope for it anyway. I miss you, MC. I just hope wherever you are, you’re happy, and that there’s a lot of good food for you. Please don’t forget us. Love, Beelzebub.”

You inhale deeply and stifle a sniffle. You’ve already cried enough for one day, and crying in front of someone you just met is not a good first impression. You tightly squeeze the hand that Simeon is still holding, and thankfully, he takes the hint.

“Excuse me, Raphael, but we must be on our way,” Simeon says, standing in front of you a little bit to give you some cover to hide behind. “I’m certain you and MC will have plenty of time to chat once she’s passed her judgement.”

Raphael has a look of slight confusion and startlement on his face, but thankfully he drops the subject. “Certainly, I understand,” He tells Simeon before looking at you with a plain expression. “Good luck, MC. And you have nothing to fear, he’s not as scary as you might have heard in the stories,” Raphael speaks before walking off to wherever he was going before you nearly bumped into him. You muse to yourself who this “he” might be.

You and Simeon walk in silence as he leads you through various hallways. He never lets your hand go. You appreciate him for being so understanding with your odd situation, and willingness to comfort you from a distance.

Finally, the two of you enter a very large room. The floor is marble with a large sun on it. This is the only room you’ve seen in the palace that is not decorated with windows. A large but plain chandelier hangs above overhead to illuminate the room. Several large archways covered by curtains reside on the other end of the room. All of the curtains have small lines of angels escorting human spirits. This must be the judgement bay, and behind each curtain is an Archangel waiting to pass judgement. The air is still in here, yet somehow, it is not unnerving.

You notice that two archways have a single chain with a wooden sign blocking the entrance. The sign reads, “out of chamber.” There are wooden plaques above each archway with a title and name burned into each plaque. You’re just barely able to read the names on the plaques that are above the closed archways – Archangel Simeon and Archangel Raphael, the individual signs read respectively.

“Are you ready?” Simeon asks, looking down at you. He gives your hand a comforting squeeze.

“As ready as I can be, I suppose,” You say, giving him a nervous smile.

“You’re going to do great, I just know it,” Simeon tells you with nothing but confidence in his voice.

Simeon guides you to one of the lines. You read the plaque above the archway you’re currently standing in line for – Archangel Michael, it reads. This is what Raphael must have been trying to tell you earlier, before Beel’s voice came through; that your judgement will be passed by an angel you’ve heard so much about, but practically know nothing about him at the same time.

Every few minutes, an angel and their escorted human spirit pass through the curtain to face judgement. You don’t hear or see anything as you slowly creep closer to your judgement. How does this even work?

“Simeon?” You ask, tugging on the angel’s arm lightly.

“Yes, little lamb?” He asks with comforting eyes.

“Why is no one coming out? What happens after judgement?”

Simeon chuckles a little bit. “There is no need to worry, little lamb. Once a spirit passes their judgement, their angel escorts them into a different room connected through the Archangel’s chamber, so that they can receive their wings, halo, and robes. They’re not supposed to come out the way they came, so please don’t worry. You have the brightest human spirit and the purest human heart that I’ve ever met. You’re going to do amazing.”

Simeon is looking at you with incredibly earnest eyes. How tempting it is to just get lost in the blue of his eyes. To put your shields down and just lie with him, and rest. The comfort and warmth he brings you during this transitional period is very much appreciated. It makes you realize you should have spent more time with him, Luke, and Solomon during your year in the Devildom. But soon, you’ll have close to an eternity to make up for lost time.

“Thank you, Simeon,” You finally tell him with no hint of nervousness or hesitation in your voice.

He’s so close to you. How easy it would be to just lean in to hug him, or kiss him, or anything to thank him for his kindness. You can see it in his eyes. A soft and gentle yearning that you haven’t really noticed until now. You slowly lean in, seeing if he will match you. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gently places two gloved fingers against your lips with a sad smile on his face.

“In a little bit, little lamb. It’s time for us to go,” He nods at the archway; the line has somehow disappeared completely. It’s your turn now.

Simeon gently places his hand on the small of your back and guides you inside, past the curtain. Inside this new room lies a podium on top of some kind of grand stand. Though you don’t see anyone at the podium, you feel eyes on you. You’re already being watched by who you presume to be Archangel Michael. The thrum of magic is very strong here. You’ve rarely felt this kind of magic before, which means this must be Celestial magic. Likely some kind of muting or silencing spell has been cast on the room for the sake of privacy during judgements. Simeon stays at the curtain entranceway. He points you to stand in the center of the room on top of a strange symbol on a blue circle. You walk up to the symbol; you’ve never seen it before. It looks like a strange line that crosses itself a few times before making a circle at one end. This must be the symbol of Archangel Michael; perhaps this is the angelic version of a demon’s sigil.

You stand on the symbol and immediately the lights dim. A starry night sky made entirely of magic appears above you. Comets and shooting stars pass by, each one holding a glimpse of a moment from your life. You see moments from when you were a baby, to taking your first steps, to your first school days, and so on and so forth. More moments and memories pass by at an incredible speed. There’s so many of them, and they’re all flying so fast, that you can’t see the memories they hold. All of the stars and comets fly in the direction of Archangel Michael’s podium.

The display is beautiful, and though you really can’t do it, you try anyway to pinpoint on a shooting star or comet to see its memory. But the magical moment is rudely interrupted as you hear one final, tired voice.

”I hate that this is the way I have to tell you goodbye,” The voice complains in a lethargic tone. ”I don’t like writing papers, they always put me to sleep,”The voice lets out a deep sigh. There’s a second of silence before they continue. ”I hate this, I hate all of this. I don’t even know how to process this. I don’t know how to feel, either. In a sick and twisted way, it’s just like I’m back in that freaking attic; angry, sad, and lonely. Except I’m not alone this time, I have Beel, and the others. But I just feel like I’ve lost everything again.” The voice pauses for a long moment now, as if their voice was somehow lost in the cosmos above you. ”I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t know what to say. I feel like my letter won’t be as good or as memorable a Satan’s letter will likely be. I don’t think I could just pour my heart out for you, like Mammon and Asmo are likely doing right now. I guess I should just be honest with you, then, since this will likely be my last chance. I’m sorry for tricking you for the sake of my freedom, and for hurting you when I got out. I know that no number of apologies can ever take back what I did, but I at least wanted to tell you one last time. I don’t know why you trusted me, or why you loved me after all of that, but I’m glad you did. Those were some of the best few months of my life. I’m certain you’re in the Celestial Realm. You were always too good for the Devildom, and for us. I’ll miss you so much. But as long as you’re happy, I’m happy. I love you, MC. I hope that somehow, someway, I’ll see you again. Even if it’s only in my dreams. Love, Belphegor.”

The last star and comet fly by as the voice fades out. The starry sky disappears and the room relights itself with magic. You blink a few times as you look at Archangel Michael’s podium, waiting for his verdict with bated breath. The silence seems to stretch on forever until it is finally broken.

”Fall.”

“Huh?” Is all you get to say before the circle under your feet gives out.

“MC!” You hear Simeon scream as you fall into an abyss. You look up just in time to see Simeon dive after you, but a pair of arms catches him, pulling him back into the room. The door you fell through closes, leaving you screaming and falling in a black void. You feel yourself fall faster as gravity demands your company. Specks of white start to fly by you, before those specks of white turn into specks of color. It looks like you’re falling through space itself. You curl into a ball, bracing for an impact you’re not sure you’ll meet.

You feel the air change around you, but don’t bother to open your eyes. Not only that, but it’s hot. Extremely hot, actually. Is it you that’s making that high pitch screech, or something else? You can’t tell. It feels like your flesh is being burned away as you fall. You try to open your eyes, but you crash onto the ground before you can manage to see anything.

You feel your consciousness slipping as you suddenly feel so, so tired. Did you hit your head upon impact? Are you bleeding? Are you going to die for good here? You can’t answer your own questions as you fall into a dreamless and deep slumber.

At least it’s comfortably warm here, in this place that somehow feels oddly familiar.

**********

“And that’s what happened,” Simeon finishes, as he’s helped you recap your story of death, the Celestial Realm, and falling back into the Devildom.

You rub your temples in circular motions. You remember every single detail now, thanks to Simeon’s retelling. But all of these memories that are suddenly resurfacing is giving you a migraine. Despite being back in the Devildom, a place that you considered familiar and comfortable, suddenly feels new and overwhelming, like when you first visited. You feel a warm and comforting hand land on your shoulder, you turn to see who it is, and your eyes meet with the honey pots that are Diavolo’s eyes.

“MC, are you alright? I know it can be a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, I’m okay; everything is just… it’s a lot right now.”

Diavolo nods in understanding. “You are more than welcome to stay at the Castle until you feel more acquainted. Then, there is some business you and I must take care of.”

“Can’t I go back to the House of Lamentation?” You ask in a confused voice.

“No, at least, not yet,” Diavolo tells you in a stern yet also gentle voice. “That’s one of the things we need to talk about when you’re more adjusted to your new body and life; your housing situation. Now that you’re a permanent resident of the Devildom, there are some papers you will need to sign, and information that will need to be documented. But that can all wait for a later time. In the meantime, you’ll be staying at the Castle.”

“But—” Mammon tries to interject, before one of Lucifer’s gloved hands is quick to cover his mouth and silence the second-born.

Lucifer nods at Diavolo. “My apologies for his rude interruption, Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer apologizes while tightening his grip on Mammon’s mouth, making the Avatar of Greed wince in pain. “I’m certain you are already aware, but we would love to have MC as a member of the House. The guest room can permanently be turned into her room, if that is something she so desires,” Lucifer looks at you. There’s a look in his eyes that you’re not used to seeing from the Avatar of Pride. Is he… silently begging you to come home with them?

Diavolo looks at the brothers, then back at you. You can see the gears turning in his head. Diavolo inhales to say something but is interrupted by Barbatos, of all demons.

“My Lord, could I have but just one moment of your time?”

Diavolo gives his butler a startled look, but regardless, the two demons take a step back to converse. They’re speaking in rushed whispers, and Diavolo is even talking with his hands a little bit, but in less than a minute, the royal demons come to a decision. The two rejoin everyone else with smiles on their faces. Diavolo’s is a lot bigger than Barbatos’, as it usually is. Barbatos gives you a little wink before Diavolo starts speaking.

“Who cares about the documents and papers?” Diavolo starts, his vibrant personality making its way back to the forefront. “MC just got back here! We can handle all of that boring stuff at another date,” Diavolo crouches down to your level. “MC, if it is okay with both you and the brothers, you are more than welcome to call the House of Lamentation your new, permanent home.”

Before you can even get a word in, Mammon is already shouting through Lucifer’s hand. “Yes! We accept! She can—” Now Mammon is interrupted by Satan hitting him upside the head. The second-born lets out a long groan of pain, but gets the message and stays quiet.

You look over at the rest of the brothers; Lucifer is still giving you that same look, and Leviathan is silently mouthing the word ‘please.’ Satan gives you a firm nod, already confident in the decision you will make. Meanwhile, the twins are literally holding their breaths. Asmodeus, who has still kept himself wrapped around you this entire time, doesn’t say anything, but you can tell by how tight his grip is what answer he wants to hear.

You turn to Diavolo, your answer is obvious on your face and on your tongue. “Yes, I accept.”

The brothers break out into a choir of cheers that is loud enough to make you feel their voices in your chest, except Lucifer, who just lets out a long sigh of relief. Even Asmodeus finally lets you go so he can stand up and cheer. Why are they acting like you would have said no? You don’t question it, you’re just happy to see them happy. Barbatos shuffles over beside you, drawing your attention onto him.

“I owe you an apology and an explanation at a later date,” The butler tells you. He winks at you again before returning to Lord Diavolo’s side.

“What?” You ask yourself quietly, giving Barbatos a curious look. But a certain demon brother does not appreciate your attention being on someone else.

“Come on, MC! Let’s get ya home!” Mammon shouts gleefully, burying himself into your side to help you get to your feet.

“Mammon, get your greedy hands off of her!” Asmo shouts, moving to grab you from your other side.

“She doesn’t need your help, Asmo! Let go!” Mammon digs his hands into your waist and pulls you close to him.

“You can’t have her all to yourself, Mammon!” Asmo makes Mammon lose his grip by scratching at his hands, just so he can take their place and pull you towards his chest. You feel like a doll being pulled between two children.

“I was MC’s first! She wants me to help her get up!”

“Well I’m the most beautiful demon in the Devildom! So, of course MC would want me to walk her to the House!”

The boys let you go as they quite literally start to fight. Lucifer yells at them as he attempts to separate the second and fifth-born, but he’s met with very little success as the two continue to try and hurt the other across Lucifer’s arm span. Finally, the first-born loses his temper and just ends up yelling and scolding at them like they’re children, in the middle of the street, where everyone can see and hear them.

“They’re so noisy, aren’t they?” A smooth and silky voice speaks right into your ear.

You whip your head around to see Belphegor looking at you with soft eyes and a lazy smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, but I missed it,” You tell the seventh-born as he helps you hook one arm over his shoulder to help you to your feet.

You feel another demon’s clammy and shaky grip on your other wrist. You turn your head to see Leviathan, who refuses to make direct eye contact with you, even though he keeps glancing at you then redirecting his gaze onto the ground. He’s shaking terribly, and his hands are twitching around your wrist. He probably still doesn’t believe that you’re real; that fate is playing a cruel trick on him by giving him a lovely dream. But this isn’t a dream, nor is this some kind of cruel trick by a higher power.

You wrap your arm around Levi’s shoulders and give him a firm squeeze with your hand. Letting him know that you’re actually here, and real. That does a lot to soothe the third-born as he stops shaking. He secures his grip on you by holding onto your hand with one hand, and wrapping the other around your waist for support.

“I-I’m so glad you’re here,” He whispers, finally looking at you directly in the eyes.

“I’m happy that you’re here too,” You whisper back, wanting to stay quiet as to avoid accidentally embarrassing or flustering him in front of his brothers.

The two brothers help you onto shaky legs and walk with you back to the House of Lamentation. Everyone else follows suit, but Lucifer is dragging Asmo and Mammon back by their ears. Ignoring their cries for mercy and of pain, you enjoy small conversations with the brothers, angels, and demon royalty.

The walk back to the house is slow, since you don’t have all of your strength yet. Beelzebub is kind enough to hold your new wings for you so they don’t drag against the ground as you walk. Eventually, you will learn how to control and move your new appendages, but that’s an adventure for another day.

When you walk through the front doors of the House, it truly feels like home. Even though you weren’t gone for all that long – though to everyone it feels like a century might have passed – it feels good to see everything exactly as how you remember it. A large smile comes onto your face that this is your new, forever home. Where you’ll live a very, very long life as a demon. Where you’ll get to wake up with your lovers every morning. Where you will become a new and permanent citizen of the Devildom.

“Welcome home, MC!” Everyone cries out, with huge smiles on their faces. This is only the beginning of something greater.