Prompt: "I'm kind of glad that stupid senpai's brother is still alive, though."
"... Why's that?"
"If Bel-senpai became the king, then he'd have to marry a woman in order to produce an heir, right? He wouldn't have any time for me."
Doesn't have to include that exactly, just something based off of it. Fluff plz.
The one who will become king is the one you supposedly killed... your twin brother.
Ushesheshe.
"J-Jill?" Belphegor pronounces his long-dead brother's old nickname in disbelief and a tinge of unease. He manages a sickly baring of teeth, which looks far too out of place as opposed to his - relatively - normal Cheshire cat grin.
"If I remember correctly, senpai, you said you killed your own brother." Is it his imagination, or does the frog brat sound like he's enjoying this whole situation? He's probably pleased that Bel's been proven wrong. Or has he?
"Is that guy an illusion or something?" Tch. Isn't it his job to see through illusions? "I don't think they're using petty illusions like that, though it's just a gut feeling." Gut feeling? What illusionist relies on instincts? Mammon would never... but then, who knows? He's never really asked before. And thanks to the Millefiore, his blasted twin's new alliance, he never will.
"It's not easy to see through illusions," Fran points out. "Even my master had to rely on instinct in the end." Bel's eyes narrow - not that anyone notices. His annoying kouhai always talks about his mysterious 'master' in tones ranging from derisive, grudging affection to insulting irreverence, and yet refuses to entertain any speculation as to his identity. Common theory among the Varia is that he's winding them all up. Bel wouldn't put it past him.
"Hey, Bel," his brother's voice interrupts his musings. "It's understandable that you don't believe me, but I'm not a fake or a look-alike. There's a matching birthmark on our stomachs." Rasiel hikes up his white silk shirt, and Bel scoffs inwardly. You still behave like a common whore, caro fratello.
"And aren't the scars you gave me proof enough?" The self-proclaimed King laughs again, the spine-chilling sound at odds with the casual way he holds up his shirt hem, exposing the pale skin and even paler lines, crisscrossing patterns which have stretched somewhat since the day they were given. Belphegor recalls exactly how it felt to deliver each and every gash, the sight of royal blood being spilled from his other half, the burning desire to keep going slash stab riptearkill
"Makes sense." The familiar monotone comes from somewhere about his midriff, and he is momentarily disoriented. Belphegor glances down to find his (no, not his, never his) kouhai crouched at his feet in his usual position, with one hand lifting the prince's own shirt.
"What are you doing?" A stupid question. He's obviously not thinking clearly. He's supposed to be a genius, for fuck's sake. Bel can sense Fran's intense gaze on his abdomen and shivers involuntarily, telling himself that he's just feeling chilly without his shirt.
"Well, I need to verify what your brother just said, don't you think?" Bel thinks that Fran's holding his shirt up far higher than necessary, and his face warms slightly although it's supposed to be cold. He punches Fran in the head instead, a little harder than originally intended.
"Ask before you look!" He snaps, not that he'd agree even if the froggy kouhai did ask. Right? Of course not.
"Seems like he's real," he murmurs, mostly to himself, turning to face his twin. "Since we were born... our relationship was strained from the beginning." This is not quite true, and yet not a lie either. His and Rasiel's bond cannot be fathomed by others, for they are uniquely two of a kind. Bel can't even remember what they were fighting about that day, and it's useless to even try.
"That day," he says dreamily, almost in a daze, and he knows that Jill's remembering too, "we started by poking each other's faces. We threw stones, boulders, knives-"
"Knives?" Fran sounds as disbelieving as he can, which really isn't saying much. "Did that really happen?"
"Shut up. Don't interrupt when someone's reminiscing." Fran sighs and stares somewhere past Bel's shoulder.
"This is very dangerous. Good kids shouldn't do this."
"Who are you talking to?" Belphegor demands in exasperation. The brat just raises a mock-apologetic hand. "Please continue your story."
Bel snorts in an admittedly un-princely manner. "Anyway... " His lips curve into their signature grin as he recalls the exhilaration and bloodlust. "Finally, it was my eternal victory!" He pauses dramatically, picturing a banner reading WINNER floating above his head.
"The end."
"Senpai." Fran is clearly unimpressed. "You sure turned a violent tragedy into a comedy." The prince rolls his hidden eyes. He supposes not everyone can appreciate the unmatched beauty of a rival's death.
"Ushishishi. Well, that's the way it is. All those wounds were definitely inflicted by me."
"Honestly." Rasiel's been keeping silent for a while now, just observing the two of them carefully. Now they turn to face him again. "You never grew up at all, Belphegor. You only remember the times you won. You should remember that you never beat me, your brother, in anything." He's enjoying this, Bel can tell. Drama queen. He grins inwardly at the irony.
"You were lousy and never won in any area," Rasiel continues, ignoring him. "Based on these facts, I should definitely be the king, don't you think?" Bel grimaces. He's always hated his twin, but he's never liked him less than at this moment.
"That means," Fran pipes up, and Bel feels a twinge of betrayal. No. To be betrayed you have to trust first, and he's never trusted anyone but Mammon. Even the other officers he's always kept at arm's length. "Compared with senpai, the number one Varia genius, this guy is a greater genius?" You're not supposed to agree with him, Bel seethes inwardly. Stupid frog.
Rasiel's grin is roughly the size and shape of a half-watermelon by now. He knows he's touched a nerve. "That day, you didn't win through your own strengths. You knew you couldn't beat me head on, so you put a huge amount of laxatives into my drink."
"That's so despicable of you, senpai," Fran plays along. Idiot, don't just blindly follow everything he says!
"The day before, I was forced to eat a mudball filled with earthworms." Bel cringes at the memory. "That time, my legs could barely move. Aren't we even?" Then he remembers a far more pressing concern. "Come to think of it, why are you still alive? I remember I did completely bury you."
"Ushesheshe." Bel wrinkles his nose at the sound of that laugh, so much like his and yet not. "The truly rightful prince will never die. Unlike you, I'm protected by his great power." His? For a moment Belphegor's mind flickers wildly between Rasiel's protector and Fran's master.
"What are you saying?" In response, Rasiel flashes an all too familiar symbol at them, much like a freshly-engaged woman who wants to show off her new diamond without coming across as a braggart. Bel notices that he's painted his nails black. Sissy.
"Do you know what this is?" And Bel can't help but think that his twin belongs on the stage. "A Mare ring?"
"That's right." Rasiel ringflashes them again. "I'm one of the Six Funeral Wreaths."
Belphegor allows his mind to wander while Fran fills Squalo in on their situation. He's loath to admit that he's a little envious of Rasiel's Storm Throne. The representative of Sloth shouldn't have to walk. He snaps to in time to hear the news: they're on their own in this. It's just as well.
"I never planned to ask for help anyway." He's not afraid of his brother. "I have to clean up my own mess from where I left off." Rasiel laughs.
"That's my line, my failure of a little brother. I'll get rid of you once and for all." The Mare ring lights up with its characteristic red flame.
"Bel-sama, please prepare yourself," Olgert adds, his own ring emitting a pulsing blue flame.
"I suppose your opponent is the butler, Froggy." It would be easier for him to settle with his twin if someone was there to distract Olgert. "Just don't get in my way."
"I wasn't planning to," Fran drones, and he makes to leave. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"I came to finish a mission, not referee a grudge match." He's about to hop the branch, but appears to think better of it. He turns to glance at the king, then at the prince. "I'll be back at the castle. See you later, senpai... or not." Before Bel can stop him, he's ninja'd his way through the trees and is fast out of sight, leaving the prince to face his other half alone.
Both brothers are staring at where Fran once stood. To be more accurate, Belphegor is gaping. He didn't think that Fran would really bail just like that. Again he feels that unpleasant twinge in his gut he's come to associate with betrayal, and for a moment he thinks he's going to be sick. It takes a lot of effort to fight down his nausea and turn to face his twin again.
Rasiel is still staring after Fran thoughtfully. "He's pretty cute, isn't he?" he says conversationally, as though he isn't about to attempt to murder his twin.
"Obviously you're suffering from hair-blindness," Belphegor responds automatically. It's something that Fran likes to say to him. "He's just my uncute kouhai." The way Rasiel's leering at him tells him that he doesn't believe him one bit.
"If you don't want him..." Jill trails off suggestively. Bel just scoffs, although his insides are churning rapidly. "Well then, after you're dead I'll go back to the castle and see for myself." His voice lowers into a husky purr. "I'm sure I'll enjoy what you never dared take."
That does it. Belphegor's got his ring lit and his box open before Rasiel has the time to blink, not that anyone can tell. He laughs as he sets his concealed eyes on his brother's box weapon for the first and last time.
"What's that, a skunk imitation?"
Belphegor growls low in his throat, but he won't let Jill get to him again. No matter what - he has to win.
Princes are never taken by surprise. But Belphegor is no ordinary prince. He's Prince the Ripper, and this entitles him to a little leeway. When he's hit by the Pipistrello Tempesta's flame attack, he knows he's going to die. Couldn't win even know, eh? He closes his eyes and waits for the impact.
It never comes.
When Rasiel and Olgert are long gone, Fran lifts the illusion. Bel's glad. He doesn't want to have to look at his own realistically-mangled body any longer than necessary. But they have to talk. Calmly, like the mature adults they are. He turns to Fran and takes a deep breath.
"What the bloody hell were you thinking?"
That didn't come out right. But Belphegor hates being confused, and that's how you tend to feel after you think you're falling to your death when you land on an illusory trampoline, of all things. Fran sends him a blank look like always, somehow emphasised by the fact that they're both covered in leaves.
"They got tricked pretty easily." Bel tosses four knives at him and they all spear him in the chest. "That hurts, senpai."
"Why did you run off like that if you were going to stay the whole time?" Bel's shocked to see a fleeting smile playing on his froggy kouhai's lips.
"It's my mission, senpai. You're my partner. Unfortunately, I'm stuck with you. Did you really think I was going to just abandon you? Imagine what the long-haired commander would say." Bel scowls.
"You didn't have to flirt with him." He knows it's irrational, but somehow, he doesn't care. He doesn't know what to think.
"Were you jealous, senpai?" Fran's giving him that same look he wore when he was blatantly checking out his abs, and this time Belphegor can't keep the heat from working across the visible parts of his face. Fran just sighs, as though he's finally understood something.
"To be honest, I wanted to see it for myself."
"See what?" He's grateful for the subject change, but still just as confused.
"Don't you want to see who's stronger, between your idiotic brother and the man-period boss?" Bel mulls over this for all of two seconds before his spirits perk up.
"Ushishishi. Definitely."
The two officers make their way back to the castle in silence. Fran's ahead, so Belphegor can only see the back of him when he speaks.
"I'm kind of glad that stupid senpai's brother is still alive, though." Bel frowns.
"... Why's that?" Fran turns to look at him, and this time there's a genuine smile on his face, and this one doesn't run away.
"If Bel-senpai became the king, then he'd have to marry a woman in order to produce an heir, right? He wouldn't have any time for me."
Belphegor ponders this statement for a bit. Fran's stopped walking, so he easily catches up, and they walk back to the castle together. They don't say anything because they don't have to, and while they're walking, their fingers intertwine and interlock and don't let go.