But of course!

(Part 2: The Dateables + Luke)

“Mom, Dad, meet seven of my boyfriends.”

…is what you want to say, but you know better than to panic your parents and fluster your totally platonic demon friends at a time like this.

And what a time it is. Here you are, surrounded by your parents, an aunt, your grandpa, and your sister, trying to calm your mother down from yet another diatribe about how you can’t just get up and leave for a year—I mean, God, the police were looking for you! The police! You realize we thought they’d find your body in the woods somewhere? How could you do this to us?!—when suddenly:

Knock, knock.
Knock knock knock knock knock knock.
Thud. Thud. Thud.

“MC! Hey MC!”

“Mammon, if they hear you, you’ll ruin the surprise!”

You and your relatives stare at the door. Then they all look at you. You give an awkward smile.

“Just give me a minute… I think those are some friends of mine…”

You really wish you lived somewhere besides a one bedroom apartment, but honestly, impossible in this economy. So you don’t have anywhere remotely private to tell the brothers to scatter until the dust clears. In fact, the instant you open the door, Asmodeus flings his arms around you and kisses you on the cheek—in full view of your family, mind you!—and Beel shoves a box of half-eaten chocolates into your hand. Then seven voices are all clamoring for your attention at once on one end, and another five behind you. There are thirteen individuals in this tiny apartment, you realize, and you don’t even have enough seats for your family to all sit. Your sister’s seated on the floor.

“Heyyyyy guys, now’s….not a great time….” A smile is plastered to your face as you tip your head in the direction of your extremely concerned parents. “And…seriously? It hasn’t been two weeks yet.”

Mammon looks confused, then indignant. “What? …Hey, what the hell? You’re already makin’ new friends?! We really that replaceable?!”

Lucifer, who stands in the back holding a balloon bouquet with a jarringly serious expression on his face, speaks up. “I believe those are MC’s relatives, Mammon. It seems we came at an inopportune time after all.”

“Relatives?!” Asmo and Mammon hurry on over to give them all a good look-over, the others curiously observing.

“You’re MC’s mom, aren’t you! Oh, MC! I see where you get your cheekbones!” Asmo gushes as your mother stares at him like he’s from another planet. Which he sort of is, in a sense.

“MC? Who are these people?” your grandpa asks with bewilderment and not a small amount of concern.

“They’re, um…”

“They’re hot.” Your sister waves her fingers at the group, and you wish you had perma-died in that attic.

You need to explain yourself quickly. On the spot. You’d already told your family you’d had a bit of a quarter-life crisis and gone backpacking across the country for the year, working through the mental collapse that living in the 21st century inevitably caused, so you ride off of that. These are a ragtag bunch you met on the road, you explain. You’d spent the better part of last year roughing it from the hills of Kentucky to the forests of Washington with these guys, and you’d become incredibly close as a result. You’d lived together, laughed together, loved together, and some of them even tried to kill you on a few occasions.

(“‘Tried’?” mutters Satan, and Belphie gives him a death glare.)

Under the leadership of the charismatic eldest brother, Lucifer, you’d become so close that it felt as if your very souls were somehow tethered—

“I’m sorry, 'Lucifer’?” Your mom has had just about enough of this. She approaches you with a look of heartbreaking concern in her eyes and cups your face. “….Baby, did you join a cult?”

“Who does she think she is, callin’ 'em that?” seethes Mammon under his breath.

“Mammon, she’s my MOM.”

“Alright, I think I’ve seen enough.” Dad gets up and eyes the boys sternly. “I dunno what you’ve been doing with my child, but it’s gonna stop, you understand? I’ve got a homicide detective on speed dial because of you clowns.”

“Is this where they get their assertiveness from?” speculated Levi to Beel, who simply shrugged.

“Listen, I think you’re all just…misunderstanding each other!” Son of Gardonus, where are you even supposed to start? You grab the nearest demon—

(Individual brothers are below the cut!)

Lucifer

• “This is Lucifer.”
• He gives you a look that says 'you really are as stupid as I’ve sometimes feared’. Why didn’t you come up with a fake name?
• “That was a joke.”
• Good, things are still salvageable.
• “Because following his instructions is a lot like being in Hell.”
• He hates you.
• “If that’s the devil, then call me a sinner,” your aunt says, sipping her third glass of wine.
• “His real name is Boris.”
• He hates you so much.
• “Pretty well-dressed for a man who spent a year on the road,” observes your Mom with undisguised distrust. “Let me guess: while you were out gathering food and panhandling to survive, he stayed indoors doing whatever the hell he felt like doing, and at the end of the day, you’d take everything you’d earned and hand it over to him, and he’d toss you some pittance in return.”
• “How does she know that?!” Mammon gasps.
• You try explaining to your mom that there was no cult, but she hushes you remorselessly.
• You beg Lucifer with your eyes not to kill your entire family please. It seems to work.

Mammon

• “Mammon, these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Mammon. Mammon, say hello.”
• “Hello. Agh! Dammit! You’re really gonna use that now?!”
• Oops. Pact magic. It can be a little unpredictable at times. You ruffle his hair apologetically.
• The two of you were pretty much inseparable over the last year, you explain. “Best buds, pretty much.” He was the first of the group you got close with. Mammon seems extremely proud of this.
• “Please tell me 'best bud’ isn’t a euphemism, MC.” Your dad gives you a pleading look. “I don’t know how many more surprises I can take today.” You two seem far too affectionate and touchy-feely for his liking.
• Your sister grins at him from her seat on the floor, which seems to embarrass and confuse him tremendously. He’s refusing to look at her. Poor guy. The two of you do look a lot alike…

Levi

• “This is Levi.”
• “Ah, that almost sounds like a normal name. Why Leh-vee, though? Why don’t you pronounce it LEE-vie?
• "It’s short for Leviathan,” he says before you can stop him.
• Your sister starts cackling and Levi is very embarrassed and indignant but mostly confused.
• “Is this like a cult thing?” your aunt asks. “Naming everyone after biblical demons?” She nods and raises her eyebrows, impressed, and lifts her glass in Lucifer’s direction.
• “And you’ve been out roughing it in the great outdoors?” your grandpa asks.
• “Errrr…”
• “Yes, he has.”
• “Hmm….” Grandpa stares at Levi without a word, and your sister cackles again, and Levi looks like he’ll either start bawling or go full demon and kill everybody in a sort of panicked rage. You return him to his brothers.

Satan

• “This is—”
• “I’m Derek. Nice to meet you.”
• You side-eye Satan. Apparently he was not taking any risks of you straight up calling him 'Satan’ in front of everyone.
• Your sister and aunt both look disappointed by this name, which seems to please Satan a whole lot.
• “So,” your mom says, thinking this little introduction has gotten off to way too friendly a start, “you’re another one of MC’s… 'friends’, are you?”
• “Yep,” you say, refusing to acknowledge that there was any innuendo to read into.
• “How the hell did you get wrapped up in a cult, Derek?” your aunt asks incredulously. “You look like you came straight from a prep school… Or the Ivies, or something. Kid, let me tell you what.” She points a finger at Satan without giving him an opportunity to respond. “Let me tell you, you’re gonna kick yourself when you’re old and ugly and you realize you wasted your time in a cult looking like you were headed to a game of polo.”
• “You should’ve given yourself a cool name like those other guys,” your sister throws in.
• “Guys, please.”
• “What? At least the other guys had character. Lucifer, the sexy vampire prince, or something. Mammon, the… Is he a himbo or a bad boy?” (“A himbo,” you confirm.) “Mammon, the hellish himbo! Leviathan, a literal fish out of water! But him? This guy’s just Derek from IT.” Your sister blows a raspberry and gives a thumb down. “Next.”
• Behind you, you hear Lucifer mutter, “Mammon. Levi. Hold Satan back.”

Asmo

• “This is Asmo. Please don’t tear him a new one, he’s—”
• Your sister shakes her head. “I would NEVER. This guy looks like so much fun. Like, I’m getting shopping all day, clubbing all night vibes, am I right?”
• Asmo winks at your sister, and she blushes. She blushes. You’re in awe.
• “Hellooooo~! I’m Asmodeus, and it’s wonderful to meet you all!”
• “You’re the one that kissed my grandchild,” Grandpa recalls, raising an accusatory finger at him.
• “But MC loves when I give them kisses! Surely you all understand, right?”
• ….
• “Right…”
• ….
• Motherfucker, Asmo just charmed your family.

Beel

• “This is Beel. Beel, this is…everyone.”
• “Hi. Good to meet you.” Beel is very polite, if a bit uncomfortable.
• “Well aren’t you a drink of water and a half.” You hate your aunt so much sometimes.
• Beel frowns. “I’d rather have something a little more filling than water.”
• You see a look in your aunt’s eyes and you jump before she has the chance to strike.
• “If you say you’re on the menu, Aunt Gina, I swear–”
• “What’s 'Beel’ short for?” your mom asks sternly.
• “Beelzebub,” Beel answers with an adorable but also infuriating level of innocence.
• Your sister is cackling again.

Belphie

• Hey, where’d Belphie go?
• You look around, confused.
• Oh. He wandered to your room while everyone was distracted.
• He’s sleeping on your bed, hugging your pillow. And drooling on it.
• Your relatives stand behind you, observing the scene somberly.
• “What’s he on?” asks your sister in a whisper. “Like… he’s definitely on something, right?”
• “Freeloader. That goes for the whole lot of 'em. At least this one is honest about it. Just walks in and treats the place like it’s his.” Your dad is very annoyed.
• “He’s got narcolepsy,” you insist. You don’t know enough about narcolepsy to be sure if that seems like a reasonable excuse, but you’re counting on your family not knowing either.
• “How the hell did you all get around with a narcoleptic?” your aunt asks, elbowing Lucifer in the ribs. “Hah! Oh, MC, sweetie, I need a refill.”

When you manage to get the brothers out of your apartment, you turn around and face your family. They’re staring at you.

Your sister breaks the silence. “So like… how many of them have you–?”