A/N: A lot of people call Bel's twin brother by many names, but I'm using Rasiel. I think it sounds the coolest. D: You could set this time line sometime before TYL, but after the 'present'. Squalo's next!
It was finally happening. He would, at last, be recognized as the greater of the two, surpassing his twin brother killed in vain. After all the fights, tricks, and undermining, he, Belphegor, would be crowned as the truly superior one. The dainty silver-plated tiara would be replaced with a luxurious gold crown, encrusted with more than a handful of jewels to symbolize his greatness. The mused tips of his warm blonde hair would conform under the extra weight of the king's head wear, but that would be okay.
Prince the Ripper would finally be king.
His neck was kept warm by the black, billowy fur trim of the off-white layered cape draped around his broad shoulders. With each step he took in his pair of knee-high, rich black leather boots, he felt a sense of unyielding satisfaction. The red velvet path smoothed out under his steady, graceful pace. At the end awaited the throne that would symbolize his greatness, and around it there seemed to be nothing but shimmers of gold and the reflection of his smug grin in the polished surfaces of magenta kunzite.
"Ushishishi," the infamous laugh rumbling softly in his throat. Drawing closer to the plush seat of the elaborate, tall throne, he stopped to see Rasiel's reflection in the back drop of kunzite. The outfit a mirror image of his, even the colors reversed in favor of the relationship. Instead of putting on a distressed frown, the man split a rather eerie grin at the reflection, not bothering to turn around. "Come to watch the true heir be crowned?" Bel taunted, his voice rising ever so softly in arrogance.
Rasiel merely mocked his kin's laugh and descended down the velvet path in his own prideful stride. Level hair, equally warm blonde, swaying in his face. Although a thick layer of bangs curtained his eyes, Bel could feel his brother looking straight through him, hungrily eyeing the throne ahead.
"How sad that my dear brother has passed." Rasiel sighed sarcastically. He neared closer to Bel, an artificial grin on his face. Rivaled with his brother's grin, Bel merely stood where he was, waiting for the older twin to pass. "How sad, indeed, that my dear brother has passed." Bel retorted, pulling out his distinct knives, not even attempting to hide them. "Ushishishi, I was sure I buried you. No matter, killing you again will be easy."
It was Rasiel's turn to let out a chilly laughter. He did not seem pressed by the talk at all. In fact, it only seemed to make him even happier in a sick, twisted sense. "Maybe Bel could be proof that the dead can feel humiliated." Rasiel sang, making his walk to the throne a slow, enjoyable one. Under his mass of hair, Bel quirked a brow and felt his grin twitch. "What are you fucking talking about?" The knives were now poised dangerously in between his fingers.
The older of the twin smiled flippantly, pushing past Bel with resilient fingers to stand in front of the short length of steps up to the throne. "Ushishishi, Bel." Rasiel laughed darkly, making his trip up the stairs an agonizingly slow one.
"Did you really think you could beat me in succeeding to the crown?" Bel, unlike his brother, made quick work of the stairs and stood dangerously close to Rasiel. "Ushishishi, Rasiel." Bel quickly gained position behind his brother, holding up an array of knives to his neck. An uncharacteristic frown pulled at Bel's features as he realized that not even in the slightest bit was his prey scared. Why was that? "Do you value your life?" The Varia's resident genius jeered. He tested the resolution of his brother by pressing the knives even closer. Bel's jaw tightened when no response was gained.
"Oh, Belphegor, why did you have to commit suicide?" Rasiel stepped forward without hesitance, Bel's knives ghosting through his figure. He paused in front of the throne, looking at Bel through the reflective backdrop. "How cowardly to take your own life and not let someone else do it." Rasiel cooed, turning to face Bel now. "Isn't it humiliating? Killing yourself because you are afraid to lose before me?" An assuming air of superiority overtook his voice, a shaky laugh starting to sputter from his smug lips.
Bel, not recalling any of this, rushed forward in a half-psychotic dash and snarled at his brother, uncharacteristically angry without a smile. "The prince does not take his own life before anyone else's!" He barked in an unnerved tone. Knives clawed desperately at the jet-black cape that engulfed his brother's figure, but no scars, scratches, or even bruises were left in the scathing wake of Bel's attempts. "What's going on, Rasiel?" he growled, a twitchy grin reappearing on his face.
There was no answer to Bel's initial question, just another vague utterance from Rasiel.
"Really, Bel, you trashed your own name with that stunt. Not that it was anything to begin with~ Ushishishi, but now you're dead and there's nothing you can do about this. What was rightfully mine since birth is going to be mine now." With a languid exhale of his breath, Rasiel fell back onto the throne, completely trusting that it would be there for him to land on. He made himself comfortable on the plush fabric and did not even bother to look up at Bel. "You didn't even deserve that tiara."
Bel grimaced, his face contorted into a confused and angry expression. He, the great prince, had killed himself!? That couldn't be! He would have never allowed that to happen! Even if Rasiel had managed to gain the upper hand, Bel knew he would have given up anything to win. Except his life.
He was far too vain to let himself die, and by his own hands at that.
If anyone was to be dead, it should have been Rasiel. Bel's voice lowered considerably to a threatening murmur. "I'll get you, bastard." Rasiel did not budge from his relaxed position. He brought his hands together in a resounding 'clap' and the floor beneath Bel's feet turned into the fanciful cloth of an extravagant dinner table.
"Please clean your plates, guests." Rasiel ordered, Bel in his line of sight. "And let us remember Bel, the coward who took his own life in fear of losing to yours truly."
Lose to Rasiel? He would never let that happen, even if he was dead under the current circumstances. "Ushishishi, those will be your last words, Rasiel!" And even if it did not work the first time, Bel attacked again in a fervent attempt to restore his name.
"Oh?" Calmly lifting his arm, Rasiel flicked off Bel's tiara with little interest and smiled pathologically when it shattered onto the dinner table. "Did someone break a glass?"
The faceless guests seated at the feast began to howl with monstrous laughter, Rasiel leading them in the mocking chorus.
"Someone clean that trash up, it'll get into the food." Rasiel smiled. And with an even greater force and determination before, Bel threw every knife he had on his person at Rasiel's head, panicking a bit more each time it would ghost through like before.
He bolted up right, panting erratically in his bed. Bel pushed heatedly away at the covers and produced a set of knives in one hand. His mouth, which had been set in a darkly straight line, opened way for a small gasp. Rasiel was not there. There were no dinner guests, no polished jewels, no lush clothing, no shattering of his tiara.
Bel turned his head to glance at the nightstand, secretly relieved to see his tiara tucked away safely in an exquisite display box. "Ushishishi, only a dream, eh?" The man situated himself back into bed, lying on his back so he could pull the covers back up. The knives were returned to their place under his pillow and his usual grin crept back into its place.
"He was never crowned." Bel murmured to himself.
"He was never crowned, and that itself is a wonderful dream." Repeated like a mantra, it soon put the man to sleep with a lopsided grin on his face.