Chapter Text
Breakfast is quickly becoming hell...
That's ironic.
Most days Beth tries to keep her head down and focus on the task of identifying what's human-friendly on the table so she doesn't start her day off with either a round of projectile vomiting or terminal poisoning. Some days, like today, it's more difficult than others; Beel cooked and his palate has been known to include a frighteningly wide variety of what's considered edible. While the other brothers don't consider construction materials to be part of a balanced breakfast, all of them are capable of ingesting things that will incapacitate her.
But today breakfast is an ordeal for an entirely different reason.
They're at it again.
Beth hadn't been in the Devildom for more than a day before she'd realized that the brothers feel the need to reestablish pecking orders and reinforce rivalries on a daily basis; apparently sleeping and being apart waters down the bonds of unholy acrimony and that's something none of them can tolerate.
She usually ignores it but she's months into her stay in this realm and by now she's noticed a pattern. Today that pattern is pissing her off.
Beth keeps her head down and waits as long as she can - approximately sixteen seconds past when the mean-spirited verbal bullets start and she'd honestly thought she could get farther because she's already had one cup of coffee but apparently, it's just that kind of Monday - before she puts her fork down on her plate.
Very.
Very.
Deliberately.
"Stop."
It doesn't have the weight of a magical command, but apparently the tone her mother used on her unruly children works no matter what plane of reality you're on. Six pairs of eyes focus on her. Beth tucks her hands in her lap, sitting very rigidly as she mentally counts to fifty loudly enough that Satan can almost certainly hear her.
"Is something wrong, darling Beth?" Asmo stops insulting Mammon long enough to coo at her, leaning forward with his chin in his hand and fluttering his eyelashes at her. His artfully applied mascara glitters in the lamplight.
"Yes." She meets his gaze and refuses to be charmed, magically or otherwise. "I'd like to know who decides which five of you get a pass on behavior. Is there a method or do you just rock paper scissors it?"
Levi's perked up at the gaming question but deflates a little when he sees the look on her face. He drops his gaze to the toast he's been pushing around his plate. "Is this a trick question?"
"No." The word drops to the tabletop like a rock. "This happens every morning, and I want an honest explanation. One of you please explain to me why Asmo's lust gets a eye roll and a "whatever, it's Asmo" while Lucifer's pride always gets hate and Mammon gets outright slammed for everything, including Cerberus eating the furniture."
"Beth..." Satan is leaning forward, frowning. Apparently, whatever he's hearing from her mind is concerning.
She holds up one finger, eyes narrow. "One more thing. Explain to me what you're all getting out of putting Monnie down at every meal and at every opportunity, because as far as I can tell you've all been at it for over five thousand years and it hasn't gotten old yet, which I don't understand because I've been here eight months and I'm damn sick of it."
There's complete silence around the table.
"Mammon's scum?" Next to her, Levi looks a little pale. Confrontation isn't his thing and she's pretty sure that being at ground zero at the breakfast table wasn't on his to-do list today. "And Lucifer's mean."
"Definitely." At the other end of the table, as far away from Lucifer as he can get, Belphie leans back in his chair. "Lucifer is the biggest asshole in Devildom but at least he's got status, so he's useful. Mammon is just useless. He's greedy. He's constantly stealing from us. He doesn't respect us. He's loud and he's stupid."
There's a buzzing in Beth's ears and her hands are clenched so tightly that her knuckles stand out starkly against her skin. For the first time, she's glad she doesn't have a pact with him. She doesn't want anything of his touching her ever again. "And you tried to overthrow Diavolo so you could murder an entire realm, Belphegor, but no one is making your life hell over it."
Not even when you killed me. That one she thinks very, very loudly, and watches Satan flinch.
At the head of the table, Lucifer is very still, his teacup frozen halfway to his mouth. His eyes glow crimson in warning. Crap. He's caught her thought, too.
Beth ignores the tidal waves of demonic energy building from the first and fourth-born and looks around the table. Satan's eyes are flaring phosphorescent green; there's a matching pressure behind her eyes and a fire building in her gut that she recognizes as wrath. She hates it, but she hates this daily bashing they do even more. She won't give in to it, but she will use it.
If the fourth-born has taught her anything, it's that wrath can be constructive.
Hers gives weight to her words, pushes against their pact bonds with just enough force to make it clear that she's very, very close to the end of her patience. "So just so the stupid human in the room understands... it's perfectly fine for every single one of you to embody your natures except your two oldest brothers? And Mammon isn't allowed to at all? Because it inconveniences you?"
Anger makes her voice rasp like sandpaper against her suddenly dry throat. "How. Dare. You. How dare any of you? Yes, Lucifer can be cruel. I would be too if I took on everything he does to keep you all safe with no thanks, little help and less understanding. As for Mammon... I'll give you the loudness, but he is none of the other things you've said." She fights to keep her voice from shaking. "But I'll tell you what he is." She makes herself meet all seven of their shocked gazes and pushes her sense of determination at them. "He's my friend and my First Man and no one talks about him like that in front of me. Not even his so-called family."
Beel takes advantage of his spot next to her to reach over and cover her knotted hands with one of his enormous ones. His earnest expression almost makes her crumble. "Beth, we're sorry."
"You're not the problem, big guy." Beth pushes her chair back, leaning up to pop a kiss onto Beel's cheek because even seated, he's a bit taller than she is. "So don't apologize for your brothers. They don't mean the words you're saying."
She looks over at Mammon, who's across the table from her and uncomfortably sandwiched between Asmo and Satan. "Monnie, I've lost my appetite. Can we leave for class right now?"
The second-born still looks stunned, vibrant blue eyes round behind his sunglasses. "Er... Yeah. Sure thing, Beth."
"Please excuse us, Lucifer." She very studiously does not ask for permission but she's not going to be rude.
Lucifer resembles a beautiful statue more than anything else right now, and his aura pulses like the ocean, unmistakable, powerful and intrinsically terrifying. For a long moment he just sits at the head of the table, teacup still hovering just in front of his lips. The air feels like it's going to shatter from the pressure.
Finally, he moves, taking a sip of what is very likely Barbatos' special breakfast blend since she knows it's what he prefers when he's running on too little sleep but too much coffee for even his constitution. "Of course. Being early to class is commendable." His eyes meet Mammon's over the rim of his cup. "I'm sure you'll continue to do your job as Elizabeta's First Man and deliver her safely, won't you?"
"Oi, the great Mammon always delivers, ya know." Blustering, Mammon straightens his jacket and grabs for his bag.
"Yes. You always do."
Mammon freezes in the middle of swinging his bag over his shoulder but the bag is more than happy to continue to obey the laws of physics and nearly clips Asmo on the back of the head on the downswing. He recovers more slowly from the compliment than he ever does from the insults. "Well... Yeah." He jerks a thumb at Beth. "Ya ready, human?"
Beel is visibly agitated that she's leaving her breakfast behind, russet brows furrowing over troubled amethyst eyes. She hugs him. It's like hugging a very warm, very large boulder. "You can have it, Beel."
He shakes his head, even though he's already licking his lips. "But it's yours."
"It's okay."
"No. It's not." He's unusually stubborn about refusing free food. "Neither one of you ate much. Mammon will be okay but that's not good for humans. You're so delicate."
Sweetie, everybody but Lucifer is probably delicate in your eyes. "I'll grab something later. I promise." Turning, she slips her hand into Mammon's.
His is shaking.
True to form, he camouflages his hurt with a cocky grin. "It's about time! Let's go, Beth." He leads her out of the dining room, dodging the incoming stream of Little D's who are on service today. "Just stick with the great Mammon and ya got nothin' to worry about."