˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Barbatos: Yes, Mc?

Mc: Do you really love me?

Barbatos: *confused* Excuse me?

Mc: Do you really love me, or is it all just part of the role you're playing?

Barbatos: *feeling uneasy*

Mc: When the narrative changes, and you have to become a different Barbatos, will you stop loving me?

Barbatos: Mc, what are you…?

Mc: Have you also loved me *blank stare* when you were Nightbringer?

Barbatos: *jolting awake, his whole body covered in a film of sweat*

Mc: *sleeping peacefully beside him*

Barbatos: Maybe you'll be the one who stops loving me *sighing* if you find out what I really am.

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I don't know what this is, but Barbatos's new, darker side in the new game, the (practically canon) possibility that he might be Nightbringer, and all the secrets he holds, make me think of the huge goldmine of fanfiction and angst we could get out of this.

Thanks for reading 🩷

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Thank you for your compliment, AND HERES YOUR BARBATOS REQUEST!!

Its kinda funny that his hairstyle on Sinner's choice is called a rat tail despite knowing he hates rats <//3

wip barbie

Hey ya all, back with the fic, here is chapter 2 of my collab with the lovely @obeysalsaverde!

This chapter itself has no NSFW so it is safe to read!

I hope you all enjoy.

---

After dinner, after the cleaning was complete and the castle’s guests and the Young Master had retired for the night, Barbatos sat down in his room and stared at his hands. His white gloves betrayed nothing of what was lurking beneath—assuming there  was something there at all. He had been so taken aback by the appearance of his sigil on Simeon’s back that he’d barely had a moment to process that a mark might have appeared on him in turn. 

He had seen it though. Hadn’t he? Barbatos had caught a glimpse of something there on his skin as he’d rushed to pull his gloves back on after the incident in the kitchen. 

Could I have imagined it?

His mind had been too full at the time. Whatever he had seen on himself, he had blocked out. 

And it was time to undress for bed. 

He pulled off his left glove first, as if that would somehow brace him for what he might see next. But when he finally pinched the fingertips of the right glove and dragged the fabric away, his stomach flipped all the same.

There, in the palm of his hand as if it was something precious in his grasp, was a soulmark.

“They appeared where we touched,” he murmured. 

The lines that made the mark were the same inky black that had appeared on Simeon’s shoulder, but instead of Barbatos’s sigil, what had appeared on the demon’s skin was Celestial. The butler examined it closely, ignoring the way his heart threatened to leap from his chest. 

Most demons would likely not be able to discern between angelic sigils, except perhaps for the most famous of them—Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and at one point Lucifer. But Barbatos was not most demons. The butler was ancient, and his knowledge was vast. Certainly, he had familiarised himself with many angelic symbols in order to better serve Lord Diavolo. Not to the point of being able to identify which angel a symbol belonged to—though that was not a question in this scenario—but to the point of being able to discern an angel's rank from their sigil. 

The mark in the palm of his hand was distinctly seraphic. 

But Simeon was demoted to archangel after the war. How cruel of fate to use his seraph sigil as a soulmark.

That detail aside, the demon could not deny that the sight of that symbol on his skin made his heart leap. Barbatos touched the lines of the soulmark with his fingertips, then gently closed his hand. He cradled it to his chest. 

“I thought I did not have one,” he murmured.

Barbatos had never begrudged the Young Master and Lucifer their love, nor Solomon’s with Asmodeus. They had each found their other half and the happiness that brought them was as clear as crystal. It was a joy he would simply never know—fate had not deigned to give him a soulmate, or else Barbatos would have found them already. That was what the butler believed.

Until that afternoon.

Barbatos moved slowly as he prepared for bed, going through the familiar motions while his mind continued reeling. He glanced down at the mark on his hand again and again, expecting each time to find it gone. But it was no illusion, no trick of the light, no fabrication of his mind. He ran his index finger over the mark again once he lay in bed. 

“A soulmate …” A smile flickered across his face as he turned off his bedside light. Even in the dark, he could see the mark on his palm. “But an angel? Simeon?”

A strange feeling prickled through him when he thought of the man. There was an element of disbelief, yes, but behind that—excitement, curiosity. Perhaps even hopeful, in a reserved, tentative way.

The exchange program has scarcely begun. We have the beginnings of a friendship, to be sure. But Simeon and I are still strangers in the grand scheme of things. How could this be?

And yet, the mark was right there in his hand. And yet, picturing Simeon's face, imagining the sound of his voice, recalling the warmth of the angel’s skin blooming under his palm with that first touch, the butler's heart soared. 

Strangers for now. But this mark shows everything we could be. All that we would need to do is simply let it grow. 

He let himself picture it for a moment—he and Simeon sharing space, close enough to share warmth. He might find himself lost in the celestial blue of the angel's eyes. Barbatos could not deny that he found Simeon attractive. To the demon, he was utterly beautiful, though he would never have allowed himself to think it so unreserved until today. 

Then there was Luke—Simeon’s ward. If Barbatos and Simeon were to pursue each other … 

They are the family I have yearned for.

It made Barbatos view the time spent baking with the young angel, with Simeon's company, in an entirely new light. 

That could be our norm. Our every day. Our life together— Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself. 

He surprised himself with how easily he was settling into the idea. It was strangely comfortable to picture himself as part of a unit with the two angels. And there was something especially thrilling about picturing himself next to Simeon. 

The question is: Is any of this something he would be open to exploring with me? 

That afternoon had been a shock to the butler’s system, but a willingness to test the waters with a tug on the strings of fate was already clear in his own mind. His soulmate had appeared before his eyes—why would he not see where such a path may go? Why would he not choose to nurture that garden bed and see what could grow?

All that remained was a decision from Simeon. If the angel was open to the call of fate, to accepting a demon for a soulmate, something groundbreaking would be set in motion. 

But that was not a guarantee. Rejecting a soulmate was not unheard of, and the possibility alone sat like a wound on Barbatos’s heart. 

Could I bear that? he wondered. He held his marked palm to his chest again and rolled over. It would be no different to how it was before today, when I did not know I had a soulmate. 

At least, that was what the butler would tell himself. Because having a soulmate was not something he could know. 

Barbatos tossed and turned in his bed for another hour, waiting for sleep to find him. But he could not rid his mind of the discovery, of the possibilities both favourable and unfavourable. If he had free use of his powers, he might have peeked into his own future to know how it all played out. 

But that is the exact kind of frivolous use that prompted me to surrender to a master who would command that I seek permission, outside of very specific parameters. 

He rolled onto his back and sighed at the ceiling. He had no choice but to wait for the path before him to unfold as it would. 

Before anything more, I would have to know Simeon’s outlook on the matter. And I’m quite sure he has not even realised our situation.

He would need to wait for Simeon to see they were soulmates, otherwise tell him outright. 

Perhaps I shall pull him aside before he departs for Purgatory Hall at the end of the retreat and simply have a conversation about it with him. “Simeon, might I borrow you for a moment? Have you noticed that we are soulmates? Shall we date?” 

Barbatos smacked a palm to his forehead. 

No, that will not do. I shall wait for him to work it out for himself before I approach him. 

No sooner had he settled on that decision, another complication reared its head—that the mark on Simeon’s shoulder was very visible, and that the entire cohort involved with the exchange program was at the castle for the retreat. Moreover, a solid half of them had already noticed Simeon’s soulmark—Luke had seen it appear, and during dinner both the Young Master and Lucifer, and then Solomon and Asmodeus had spotted it. And Simeon was sharing a room with the latter.  

Good grief. It will be a miracle if Asmodeus does not tell him directly, not to mention if no one else does. And tomorrow night is the ball. Many denizens will be present. All it would take is for one demon to use the mark to strike up a conversation and—

Something about that sat ill with Barbatos—that somebody else might tell Simeon, if the angel did not soon realise the situation for himself.

And how would Simeon feel in that moment? Even I have been out of sorts since this discovery. It would be awful to find out in a situation where one could not retreat for a moment of solitude to process what it all means. 

Barbatos threw back the covers and stood up. He paced his room. 

This is driving me mad … 

There was nothing more to it. Barbatos would need to find a way to make sure Simeon worked it out before the ball. He stopped pacing in the middle of his room and peered down at his hand again. 

“If someone has to tell you, then it shall be me,” he said, as if the soulmark would carry the sentiment to the angel. “And I shall accept the choice you make with my head held high, come what may.”

—

The dinner party had long since ended.

Upon returning to their rooms, Luke knew there was only one thing he could do. Simeon had already retreated to his room, citing that he would take a shower and get ready for bed. Luke  wanted to— no, needed to know what had happened, needed to understand. So the most logical course of action was to ask.

Of course, he could have questioned Diavolo further on what exactly a soulmark was, but  the prince had said it like it was something he was already supposed to know … And then just walked away! It would have been a little embarrassing to chase after the prince just to admit that he had absolutely no idea what it was. And the mark did appear on Simeon…

Why didn’t Simeon bring this up before if it’s so important? Is it even important? He hesitated by Simeon’s door, having snuck out of his own room. Could Simeon be hiding something, perhaps? 

I’m about to find out. 

The older angel was always very open with him when it came to just about anything he was curious about, always happy to answer his questions. There truly was no reason to not ask.

He could hear talking. Simeon sounded exhausted. The other voice sounded excited. 

Here goes nothing.

Luke reached up and knocked on Simeon’s bedroom door, then waited to be called in.

“Come in, Luke.” That was Simeon’s voice. 

And he finally remembered who the second voice was. Right, he is roommates with Asmodeus. 

“Hi Luke~” Asmodeus called out, sprawled out on his bed, right on his belly. “Ugh, Mammon grabbed MC. He’s hogging all their attention. Can you believe it?” Rolling casually onto his back, the demon continued, “But we have more important matters to discuss. Back on topic.” His eyes landed on Simeon, and Luke shuddered because of the wicked grin that grew on Asmodeus’s lips.

I should just ask what I need to know and get out.

“Actually I …” Luke began, but was immediately overshadowed by the excitable demon.

“Simeon…. You still didn’t answer. What do you think of Barbatos? Do you find him hot? Sexy? Absolutely breathtaking?” 

“Are you still on this?” Simeon tensed, his eyes wide. “Asmodeus! First of all, no. Second of all. Luke is here!”

“Oh come on, he’s old enough. Aren’t you Luke? You know about the birds and the bees.” 

“What about the birds and the bees …?” 

“No he does not! Cease this immediately!” Simeon’s cheeks were a bright red as he proceeded to place his book down. 

“So when two people love each other—” Asmodeus was thrown to the side as a pillow hit him in the face. He shrieked. “Not my gorgeous face!” 

“I told you to cease this behaviour!” Simeon glared at him. “I don’t know what has gotten into you so suddenly!” 

“I just want to know,” Asmodeus wheezed, grabbing at the pillow that had just hit him. “You like him, don’t you?” He threw it right back at Simeon.

“No! I don’t know where you got that ridiculous idea!” Simeon was a little more prepared, catching the pillow with ease. “Barbatos and I are just friends!” 

“Are you? You’re spending an awful lot of time together.” Asmodeus quirked a brow. 

Luke was trying to comprehend what was happening right in front of him. It was a little upsetting, honestly. Why was Asmodeus so adamant that Simeon liked a demon? He puffed out his cheeks, his face growing a little red. 

“We are spending time together because we are friends,” Simeon insisted again. 

“I don’t know about you but I don’t check out my friends a—”

“Stop!” Luke cut them off, watching as the two ceased their actions. His eyes flickered between them. Luke just needed some answers. 

The room went completely quiet between the three of them. Simeon was still glaring at Asmodeus but he did not say anything more. Luke’s eyes kept on flickering between the two while Simeon seemed to contemplate something. Probably trying to figure out whether it was worth it  to hit Asmodeus again. Finally, the older angel sighed. Seemed he gave up.

“I apologise, Luke. That was childish.” Simeon slowly lowered the pillow he had been preparing to throw, tucking it by his belly. “Did you need something, dear?”

Luke glanced at Asmodeus. He wasn’t sure he wanted to have him there for what came next. But he couldn’t exactly ask him to leave his own room. Climbing onto Simeon’s bed, Luke settled by the older angel.

“What’s a soulmark?”

Seeing the expression on Simeon’s face shift so quickly, Luke wondered if he was wrong to ask. Simeon looked uncomfortable with the topic,  and Luke was already considering leaving without an answer. Asmodeus did not seem to agree with that course of action. 

“Soulmark, hm?” Asmodeus got up from his bed and dropped down on Simeon’s instead. “Why do you ask, Luke?” 

“Yes … That is a good question, why do you ask?” 

Luke blinked, shifting on the bed. “I … Heard Lord Diavolo talking about it…?”

“That so?” Asmodeus’s amusement seemed to only grow. 

Meanwhile, Simeon looked as if he wished to disappear. His eyes landed back on the demon, as if hoping he would be willing to tell Luke. Asmodeus pulled back his sleeve, revealing a mark, similar to the one Simeon had, but very different. 

“This is a soulmark.”

Simeon glanced away a moment, then cleared his throat, though the sound that left him was still thick with discomfort. “Yes. That on Asmodeus’s arm is indeed a… soulmark.”

“Okay but what does it mean?” Luke’s brows furrowed. 

Simeon obviously had no desire to talk about this. But Luke stood firm, watching him, waiting for an answer. Finally, the angel relented. 

“It’s a symbol. Of sorts. It’s not that important. It just shows who you are compatible with. When you first touch that person, it appears. That one person who is supposed to be your other half. Someone who makes you happy. Who is supposed to love you and cherish you through thick and thin.” 

Luke blinked. 

“A soulmate of sorts.” 

He slowly nodded, trying to take in what that meant. The concept of a soulmate was familiar to him. He had read a few romance books in his life, not that Simeon needed to know. Even if the books were appropriate, he felt the older angel would have a heart attack. Luke took in a small breath. He looked at Simeon, then his eyes trailed down to his shoulder. His lips parted. Then he covered them with his hand. He glanced up at Asmodeus. 

Asmodeus offered a nod. 

So Barbatos is… Luke wasn’t sure he liked this. 

“Who is … your soulmate, Simeon?” Luke asked carefully. 

“Oh … Ah, I don’t … have one. Some people aren’t born with one. It is completely normal.” Or he hasn’t had a chance to meet them yet … Or they died before they came into contact … A lot of possibilities, really. 

Asmodeus seemed to be trying not to laugh. But he managed, somehow. 

“And yours, Asmodeus?”

“Mmm, Solly~” Asmodeus gladly responded. “We found each other a long time ago.”

“You know you’re still allowed to date without a soulmate, right, Simeon?” Asmodeus piped up.

Simeon sighed, then reached for his book again “I don’t need romance. I am satisfied as I am. Comfortable with a good book in my lap. Who needs more?” He fixed his reading glasses. “Besides that, I have Luke. Can we quit talking about this now?” 

“Fine, fine.” Asmodeus waved him off. “I’ll just go and tell everyone you have the hots for Barbatos.” He shrugged and started to get off the bed, only to fall forwards as something grabbed his ankle. 

“No you won’t! And I explicitly said I don’t like Barbatos in that way! Do not put words in my mouth!” 

“Hey, let go!” Asmodeus struggled to get away. 

That felt like a good moment to leave the two. Luke got up, then paused. Glancing back at Simeon, he wondered briefly if he should tell him.

Maybe not. This feels like something he and Barbatos should talk out with one another.

—

It was a damn miracle that Diavolo had managed to keep quiet about the newly marked soulmates throughout the rest of dinner. At the end of the meal, Diavolo had made a point of waiting until everyone but Lucifer and Barbatos himself had turned in for the evening before he finally—finally—allowed his excitement to get the better of him. 

Congratulations, Barbatos! he had laughed, throwing his arms around the butler in a bone-crushing hug. I can see that you are still adjusting to the revelation, but you must know that we are thrilled for you. Aren’t we, Lucifer? 

The Avatar of Pride had, of course, reined in the prince’s enthusiasm. 

We are indeed. But Dia, I think it would be best to let Barbatos decide how he feels for himself first. 

For the butler’s part, he had simply stepped back once Diavolo had released him and offered them both a small bow. 

My humblest thanks, he’d said, sounding distant. Then he’d returned to the post-dinner cleanup. 

“How can he not be excited?” Diavolo said as he closed the bedroom door behind Lucifer. “I know it’s a surprise, but it feels like I’m more excited about discovering his soulmate than he is for himself.” 

Diavolo discarded his jacket and threw himself down across the length of the crimson settee at the foot of his bed. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Lucifer went to the crystalware cabinet against the wall and poured out two glasses of Demonus—the high-end stuff—then joined him. The prince sat up to accept the offered glass. 

“I imagine it is more complicated than whether or not he is excited by the prospect. Simeon is an angel, Dia. If they make something of this, it will be complicated.” 

“If?” Diavolo tutted. “You mean when. It will happen, I’m sure of it.” 

Lucifer sighed and made himself comfortable on the settee. 

The prince pressed on. “It’s a sign, Lu! First there was you and me—the demon prince and a freshly fallen seraph discovering that we were soulmates. You helped me set the wheels in motion for this exchange program. And now it is happening again—a powerful demon and an angel exchange student. Only this time, there’s no need for him to fall for them to be together.”

“Dia …” 

“We are uniting the realms, Lu. It may be an unexpected progression, especially so early in the game, but soulmarks do not lie. Barbatos and Simeon are joined by the threads of fate, just as you and I.” 

“Dia.”

That tone shut him up. Diavolo pouted. Lucifer emitted a tired sigh. 

“I know you are excited by the potential of what this could mean. For our dear friend, and for the exchange program and your vision for the realms.” He leaned closer to Diavolo, placing his free hand over the prince’s. “But they are their own beings, both of them. I don’t imagine either of them desire the pressure that comes with symbolising a joining of the Devildom and the Celestial Realm. Let them find their own way in this, at their own pace. As we did.” 

It was Diavolo’s turn to sigh. “I take your point, Lu. You are right.” 

Lucifer smirked and sat back against the arm of the settee, his torso still angled towards the prince. “Aren’t I always?” They chuckled together, then Lucifer continued. “I’ve known Simeon for a long time.” 

Diavolo made a sound of displeasure, but Lucifer did not let it derail the point he was making. 

“He can be clueless at times. And from what we saw at dinner, I think you will agree that Simeon has not yet realised that he sports a soulmark now.” 

“He had best figure it out soon,” said the prince, with a touch more bitterness than he intended. 

The Avatar of Pride huffed a soft laugh. “How many times must I tell you, hm? You do not need to worry about me returning to Simeon.” 

A smirk turns up the corners of Diavolo’s mouth. “I know. Even so, I’ll be glad when his attention is finally focused elsewhere. He can save his longing gazes for Barbatos. Surely he will notice before the end of the retreat. Don’t you think so?” The prince’s eyes lit up. “Aha! I’ve got it! Tomorrow evening, during the ball—we must make them dance together. Even if Simeon hasn’t noticed the soulmarks by then, surely he’ll feel something start to stir within himself during a dance.” 

Lucifer shook his head. “Perhaps they will dance together. But perhaps they won’t. As I told Asmodeus, it is not our place to interfere. Besides, you said yourself that Luke seemed distressed by the development.” 

Diavolo huffed and sunk against the back of the settee. “That’s right. He is barely comfortable being in the same room as a demon. I suppose it would be best that he has some time to adjust  to the idea that his guardian has found a soulmate in one.” 

He hummed and swirled the Demonus in his glass, careful not to spill it over the rim. It took a practiced hand. He raised the glass to the light and peered at the golden liquid through the thick crystal, then agitated the liquid once more. 

“… I can tell that you’re still thinking about how to push them together,” Lucifer said after a long silence.

Diavolo brought the glass down to a more natural level and looked pleadingly at Lucifer. He held the other demon’s gaze and tilted his head just slightly to one side. He could see it working—Lucifer’s resolve was crumbling, slowly but surely. 

“What if we just gave them a small nudge towards each other tomorrow night, hm?” 

Lucifer breathed in slowly and closed his eyes. His shoulders drooped. Diavolo saw the exact moment when his face softened. With an exhale, Lucifer opened his eyes and gave a lopsided smile. 

“Very well. A small nudge.” 

The prince beamed. The puppy-dog eyes—they worked every time. Satisfied, he sat up straighter on the settee and leaned his knees against Lucifer’s. Then he raised his glass. 

“To soulmates.” 

Lucifer raised his glass, too. “To another match made in both Heaven and Hell.” 

“May they bring each other joy as we do.”

“All in good time,” Lucifer agreed. 

They both drank, savouring the excellent vintage, the complex flavour that coated their tongues, the way it slid smoothly down their throats. When they set down their empty glasses, Diavolo took Lucifer’s hand. He held the other demon’s gaze and let the other pair vanish from his mind. Slowly, he reached one hand for the buttons of his soulmate’s shirt.

“Let me see it,” he murmured. 

Smirking, Lucifer tilted his head back to grant the prince better access. 

They had known that they were soulmates, long before their marks appeared. But it was not until after the Fall, after Lucifer and his brothers had finally settled in the Devildom, that the Avatar of Pride had finally allowed himself to accept what they both knew. 

Their first touch had been intentional. They had removed their own shirts, and taken care not to allow their skin to meet until the moment was right. Diavolo recalled the moment vividly. Lucifer had still been wearing his gloves, the leather fingertips finding a steady grasp on the prince’s shoulders. Diavolo himself had been cautious to place his own hands low on the other demon’s hips, where the fabric of his trousers could still act as a barrier. 

I’m going to pull you closer now, he had murmured in that shrinking space between them. Are you ready? 

Lucifer nodded. They had brought their torsos flush together and, finally skin to skin, moved into an embrace. They had shared their first kiss before they pulled away, but neither of them had needed to see the marks to know they had appeared, right there on their naked chests. 

The prince smiled at the recollection as he parted the fabric over Lucifer’s chest and beheld the soulmark anew. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth over the inky shape. Lucifer’s soft intake of breath was everything. Diavolo sat up slowly, and when their mouths came together in a kiss, it was everything. And when they undressed each other and made love for hours that night, it was everything. 

—

Something is wrong.

Call it intuition but something strange had happened and Simeon had taken notice. Last evening at dinner, everyone had been … staring. Either at him or at Barbatos. While he was on the topic of Barbatos, what was with him storming out of the kitchen? He had looked so frazzled. And then Luke’s behaviour, insisting that he had spoken with Barbatos. He had been staring at the butler too.

Simeon took a deep breath. There was one constant in this whole story—Barbatos. 

So there he was, standing before Barbatos’s room. 

Is this strange? Visiting the butler so early in the morning? No … No, it is—

His hand had been hovering above the door when it opened. Simeon stepped back in surprise, eyes widening. There in the doorway was Barbatos, staring right back at him, though he lacked the surprise on his face. 

No wonder—when you can look into the future, can much of it even surprise you anymore?

Suffocating silence surrounded them. Barbatos seemed to be waiting for something. 

Right, I’m the one who came to his room. I should begin the conversation. 

“Good Morning, Barbatos.” Simeon spoke in his usual cheery voice. 

Why do I feel so nervous all of a sudden? 

Being close to the butler was making his stomach flip. For some reason, the urge to just stand there and stare at the butler was strong. But he resisted, drawing his attention back to the conversation as his good morning was reciprocated. I think. He was not listening for a moment there.

“I wished to talk to you. About last night.” 

Something in Barbatos’s expression seemed to switch. He looked … excited? Nervous? Maybe? The angel never could read the other’s facial expressions. He was always very stiff, proper. Simeon thought it strange but let it go. Before he could continue, Barbatos stepped out of his bedroom and offered him a kind smile. 

“Of course. However, I have some work to finish in the kitchens. This conversation would be much more comfortable over a morning cup of coffee.” 

Simeon thought it over a moment, then nodded. “You are correct. It would.” 

Stepping aside, Simeon allowed Barbatos to leave the room and waited for him to close up and lock the door. 

The two walked through the large halls, though it wasn't far. 

Well, it sort of makes sense that a butler’s room is close to the kitchens, he supposed. 

Their conversation did not continue during their short trip. However, Simeon found that they did not have to say much anyway. The silence was comfortable. Barbatos’s very presence felt comfortable. Almost natural. And Simeon felt butterflies in his belly. That reminded him of another strange behaviour he had experienced yesterday—Asmodeus. For some reason, the avatar of lust had been insistent that Simeon had, as Asmodeus referred to it, “the hots” for Barbatos. 

Which was honestly ridiculous. They were just friends. They spent time together because of Luke. And yes, Barbatos had invited him for wine tasting in his room once or twice but it was never anything serious. Just two men who have a deep appreciation for wine and tea. 

What does Asmodeus even know? Simeon sighed, shaking away that thought. Okay, so… I can acknowledge that Barbatos is … attractive. 

Why is my mind even going there? 

He followed Barbatos into the kitchen and watched as the butler expertly prepared the coffee within a few moments. 

He’s so … efficient. 

Simeon sat down at the little table, offering a small smile to the butler. 

“… Well then.” A mug was placed before him and Simeon picked it up, blowing at the drink. When he took a sip, his eyes widened. “How did you know how I like my coffee?” 

“A great butler never reveals his secrets.” 

Simeon quirked a brow at that and Barbatos … laughed. Had he ever heard Barbatos laugh that way? 

“Alright, I may have inquired of Luke about the information.” He stepped away from the table and Simeon tried to not smile harder than he already was. A moment later, cookies were placed before him to eat, if he so wished, and Barbatos sat across from him. Simeon noticed then that Barbatos was not wearing his usual gloves, revealing that the butler… surprisingly had his nail painted black. Simeon did not know why this had come as such a shock to him but it had. He decided not to question it further. 

“You said you wished to speak to me, Simeon? About last night?” Barbatos began and Simeon straightened up.

“Indeed. I just— Well… Everyone has been acting strange, haven’t they?” Simeon leaned forwards. “Last night, I mean.”

“I see … You noticed it.” 

“You have, too? I am so glad. I thought I was going crazy!” Simeon laughed, relaxing slightly. He sipped on his coffee again. “So, was it something I did perhaps? Did I offend someone? Oh lord, I offended someone, didn’t I?” He frowned. “Though, I do not recall doing anything offensive …” He paused as he heard laughing and glanced up. 

I am making Barbatos laugh quite a bit today, aren’t I? It’s a good feeling. 

“You did not do anything offensive, no.” Barbatos shook his head. “It’s …” He trailed off. 

Simeon waited for a few moments, but Barbatos did not continue. 

“It’s what?” the angel urged. And this time, he could really see the nervousness on Barbatos’s face. “Is … something wrong?” He grew worried. Something felt wrong. Very wrong. 

“Simeon. I decided I need to be honest with you.” 

Simeon blinked. This sounds serious. He nodded, motioning for Barbatos to continue. 

“Alright. Something happened yesterday, over there, in the pantry.”

Confusion made itself known again and Simeon looked over at the pantry. “While Luke and I were cooking?” 

“Indeed.”

“So what happened? I do not recall anything …” Simeon trailed off, then watched as Barbatos placed his hand down on the table, palm up, offering him a hopeful smile. 

It took Simeon a few moments to register what exactly he was looking at.

… Oh.

“Simeon,” Barbatos began, “your soulmark appeared on my palm last night, as did mine on your shoulder. And I was hoping … that we could … get to know one another better.”

Simeon’s lips parted in shock. There was no doubt. 

That is my mark … from when I was a seraph… My magical signature. 

Discomfort overtook him. Then panic. 

What does one do in this situation? Simeon glanced up at Barbatos, who looked far too hopeful for his comfort. 

What had he done to deserve this sort of punishment? 

A demon for a soulmate? Was my demotion not shameful enough? Now … Now this? 

He took in a shaky breath, then stood up, shaking his head. 

“No … No, this is … This is not …”

“Simeon—”

“I need to go.” Simeon had no idea how to feel about this. But he needed to leave. He needed time to think. 

Yes, run away.

Simeon tried to shoo the thought away; he knew where it would lead. The guilt of abandoning the brothers when they needed him would never leave him. He had relived that trauma too many times. 

You always run.

Simeon blinked a few tears away once he was out of the kitchen. He tried not to think of the hurt he’d just seen on Barbatos’s face. 

That damned ball is tonight. 

Simeon doubted he would attend after that.

---

And there you go! Here is the link to ao3 if you'd rather read it that way:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/86772006/chapters/232682211

And the link to Chapter 1!

The party at the demon lords castle ran much, much longer than intended. You just wanna get to the HoL, flop into bed, and go right to sleep.

But of course, the brothers are still up and having fun even after the party ends… much to your dismay. You watch as they talk and giggle, the rest of the guests having gone home long ago…

Somehow nobody noticed, or so you thought…

A pair of eyes tucked away in the corner as usual are locked onto you, sensing your discomfort. He leaves for just a moment, and nobody notices or asks him what he’s doing.

Soon enough he’s behind you, a comforting presence despite the usual discomfort demons tend to give off.

“Barbatos…?” You mumble, your voice sleepy and quiet. You turn to see him behind you, his normal neutral butler expression shifting to something strangely comforting.

“Allow me to take you to a room hmm? Humans need ample sleep to be healthy…” you nod, a tired simile on your face.

It’s not the first time something like this has happened, after all demons don’t need as much sleep as humans. Besides, there’s always ample space to accommodate you in the castle… and quite comfortably too. But this time… the room looks far different from the normal royally decorated guest rooms.

There’s doors covering every wall, a strange staircase too. You take a moment to look around, gawk at the strange place that seems like it shouldn’t really exist.

“It’s my room, hope you don’t mind. After all it is the best option for me to keep an eye on you” Barbatos speaks up behind you, and you simply nod in response. It’s almost certain him leading you to his room means something… something you don’t care to figure out right now.

You simply nod, completely exhausted and not bothered enough to care. He provides pajamas, you notice they aren’t anything like the usual ones stocked for guests… too teal to match the general aesthetic of the castle. You don’t say anything, it’s not really needed anyway.

Eventually he helps you settle into bed, a bed you didn’t even notice was in the room. You fall asleep quickly, the bed comforting and soft, and the room a nice temperature and a lingering scent that seems so calming.

Time.

That was always such an odd thing to keep track of in the land of Demons.

The eternal night was one thing, however their long ‘days’ were another.

Sure, seventy-two is another multiple of twelve and twenty-four like the systems you were much more familiar with, yet still it tripped you up sometimes, especially clocks which were all analog aside from the digital ones on D.D.D.s.

How was one to keep track of time in a place like this? And demons, much less physical beings than humans, able to eat less and be awake longer naturally, it only made sense that their time score would accommodate that, seventy-two, thirty-six hours for the waking day and thirty-six for restful night.

Belphie and his brothers would complain about your hours long ‘naps’ in the middle of the day, mostly when at R.A.D. and Solomon got to take these ‘naps’ with you, he too was human after all,

… supposedly.

Then, there was nighttime, a twelve hour period where when all others were asleep, you’d awaken, up and about a bit past witching hour.

In the early days of the exchange program this period unnerved you, shadows seeming to claw towards you, strange thumps and groans keeping you confined to your room.

But it was home now.

With how noisy the lot was, this peaceful time was a much needed reset from that chaos. Be able to read in the library without worry or hearing arguing a few rooms over or someone crashing in, getting to nap in the planetarium and not awaken by almost suffocating with a heavy sleeping Belphie atop you, practice and play instruments in the music room and not have someone try correcting your technique only for someone else to come in and saying that was wrong and you had to do it a different way only for someone else to come in and the cycle repeat till they’re fighting over who should be your personal tutor and teach you their favorite song or instrument.

It was nice, to just be. That way you could better indulge in the fun chaos of the day without getting stressed out.

It was lovely to simply take your time, perhaps sleep in past your alarm for a little bit. Soak in the bath, do a couple half-hearted stretches before calling it a day.  And maybe sometimes use the opportunity to get school work done so you wouldn’t run the risk of having to cram it in due to being preoccupied by those silly indulgent antics that filled up the day.

You kept your room well-lit during this time, only place you dared to keep light. You could technically light up which ever room you were using at the time, but it was a bit more hassle than it was worth, before you had become adept enough with those spells to do so you had long memorize this place. The darkness clung to you, keeping you one with the house, each and every last step, the floorboards, the walls, all a part of you, there was no such need to feel around, not any longer. Not for so, so long now.

It was also just easier so your eyes wouldn’t have to adjust to the lighting constantly.

Like with that fridge which always blinded you. Every morning, past midnight, for breakfast. You were so tempted at this point to get a pair of sunglasses just for this, but explaining such a concept to your roommates seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

And…

Even if they technically knew you were up and about at this time, most had not actually realized it. And if they did…

You ignored the thought, not needing a headache so early in the day, opting to place ingredients on the counter. Griffin eggs and toast with weeping lettuce and bursting tomatoes sounded nice. You always tried not using too many ingredients, didn’t want to disappoint anyone when something they were expecting to be there was missing, sure, Beel would likely get at it later, but… it still felt odd.

That feeling didn’t stop you from taking out two plates though. One across that island in the middle of the kitchen, closer to the door, just in case; your’s beside the stove top.

A sigh escaped you, adoring the warmth from the stove as you lit it, the crackling of the fire inside as it grew while you closed the hatch, the sight of the flames being funneled through that grate before you covered it with the frying pan.

Griffen eggs were always a bit big and unwieldy for you to hold in one hand, just a bit too big for a little human, but damn if that bright orange yoke wasn’t delicious enough to offset the annoyingness of it’s unwieldy size.

…

It was only now that the house was this quiet to appreciate the little things, the light pop and crackling of the egg on the pan, the light thump, thump, thumping of heel against stone to the rhythm of a tune creeping through the back of the mind. Even the ever so quiet taps of footfalls on tile, normally any could sneak around simply by hiding amongst the yelling, the play fighting, the pranks, the actual fighting and su-

“Beellllzeebuuuuub.”

Oh wow, the elongated tone usually reserved for Mammon, poor Beel didn’t deserve that. Especially if he were up at this hour…

He was already being punished enough as is.

Over your shoulder you spotted the stunned Lucifer, looking to you in shock.

He looked old, or rather tired, the kind that could accompany age. Perhaps it was simply the lighting from the fire in the stove, the lines on his face, the creases on his forehead seemed deeper, the area right under his eyes almost as dark as the dining room his back was turned too. “… MC.”

Wait… he hadn’t found Beelzebub?

…

Shit… you couldn’t exactly hide the plate now.

“Working late or did you have a nightmare?” A playfulness seeped from your tone that you couldn’t help, such a rarer expression from that man.

Maybe you could pull another from him.

“Wait no…” Turning to face him you smirked, eyeing him up and down, his clothes wrinkled, slightly disheveled, sleeves rolled up, his coat missing. “You’re going to sneak out to party, aren’t cha?”

A jolt, laughter exploding out from you, his immediate distaste and unamused expression was practically cartoonish in how exaggerated it was.

“Ah, so that’s why you were expecting someone.” Not a question but a droll accusation. The eldest’s voice rumbled so deeply you almost mistaken it for a growl.

Desperate to ignore the piercing gaze that was on the plate before him you suddenly found yourself exceedingly focused back on the egg. “I rather I didn’t see anyone at this time.” It meant Beel was able to sleep through the night peacefully…

“More of a just in case thing.” You quickly added. You could count on one hand how many times you were alone for every meal during your ‘late days’. “Asmo prefers to break his diets with as few people seeing as possible, Satan sometimes wants some cider before bed if he’s stayed up too late reading, even Levi; he actually prefers proper meals but those aren’t exactly easy for him to squirl away in his room or to eat quick enough between games or episodes.”

But having a second guest at this time was exceedingly rarer.

You continued, trying to ignore the nervous acidic feeling gnawing away at your stomach. “And I was right to do so considering we’re even talking about this right now.” Even then, you always had the same dining partner almost every night, and it was certainly not Lucifer.

“Hmm.” Ah, that condescending, knowing hum of his. How annoying. “Well, I came here for coffee, but a meal would be nice to go along with it.” And that tone, Lucifer wanted to catch his brother in the act, but any refusal on your part now would only make things worse and suspicious, look like this was planned and scheduled.

“Really? Coffee? It’s like, midnight for you. Just eat the eggs and toast and get to bed. I doubt you’ll wanna be dealing with everyone’s antics half-asleep.” Carefully you slid the egg out of the pan and onto the plate it practically completely covered. And with the now thin grease-like film on the pan the bread piece was gently pressed into it, the quietest of crackling before quickly flipping it over, already a lovely golden-brown.

“No, there are papers that need to get done tonight, and they’re being more of a hassle than Diavolo presented them as.” With a thunk Lucifer placed that clunky grinder on the counter. Such a loud noisy thing. No different from any other coffee grinder in that aspect at least, however it was hand cranked, and that handle for whatever reason insisted on squeaking and screeching each and every time it was turned, jittering and swaying like it was about to fall off. Honestly one really just needed to hear THAT to get up, no need for coffee.

“Oh yeah? Ehe hehhehhe.” WHY DID YOU HAVE TO NERVOUSLY LAUGH LIK-

“MC?” Fuck. Your heart sank. “Heh, what’s got you so excite-”

…

All three of you stared at one another, the silence palpable, heavy with dread. At least between you and Beel who was frozen in the doorway.

And he just sounded so exhausted too.

Wait! “Ah, you’re working late too Beel?”

“huh?” Before he could question a thing you dragged Lucifer off, shoving him in a seat.

“Yeah.” Your giant gave you the briefest of nods as he passed. “Here, let me.” Beelzebub, thankfully, was a man of instinct, already getting a bag of beans for the grinder. Exhausted as he was, Beelzebub was a loyal, obedient man, he’d always follow your lead.

Even if it were unlikely to ever appease Lucifer, at least you two could try so he wouldn’t punish the both of you as much, or at the very least please him enough to be willing to ignore your nightly meetings for surely he’d connected the dots by now.

“MC-”

“Just a moment, now that Beel’s here too I need to get some-”

That screeching and grinding made you flinch, heart leapt in your throat. Though you watched as Beel vigorously spun the crank something in your mind was still screamed to run, hide from some beast that was out to get you.

But it was just him.

Or rather-

“Beelzebub!” Lucifer slammed a hand on Beelzebub’s shou-

CRASH

.

.

.

Maybe Beel put a bit too much fervor into it, the pair of you now staring at the crank in his hand, and the pile of falling apart metal before him. Lucifer had a hand on the funnel bit where the beans were poured in.

He heaved a great, heavy sigh that sent a chill down your spine, and presumably Beel’s too given how he shuttered.

“I-I’ll clean this up.”

Did Lucifer flinch? Surely your eyes were playing tricks on you, projecting the heart break you felt hearing Beel sound… nervous? Exhausted? A little scared? It was something vulnerable, you could pinpoint that at least.

Beelzebub wore his heart on his sleeve, he never shied away from his emotions before, but… you’d never heard him like that, even right after…

“Me too.” Squeezing past Lucifer you took the funnel, and the box bit it poured into, trying to save all the beans you could.

“Lucifer?” Your gaze followed Beel’s. The man didn’t say a thing, simply wiping off the actual grinding parts and… one by one taking each other piece and cleaning them off.

You two followed his lead.

Once they were all done and collected in the bowl Lucifer placed out he… left?

You and your companion shared a glance. You both knew better than to keep Lucifer waiting, that he made silent commands all HAD to follow, but… this didn’t feel like that. Still after Beel gave you an affirming nod you closed off the fire completely, making sure it was dead before following after.

Slinking up those steps and down those halls you found yourselves in the eldest’s room. His closet was left partly ajar and he had on a pair of glasses you could only vaguely recall him wearing once before in a photo, but never in person. He sat on the couch that was before the table and his bed, a metal box beside the bowl he just placed down.

Cautiously you sat beside him. Leaning over his shoulder you found it to be a small metal toolbox. Unlike the one Beel used for the occasional construction work or repairs around the house, this one had small tools. The inside was also a mess, the actual equipment buried under springs, coils, screws, metal plates, even some metal wire and hooks, so many little scraps and such. And yet Lucifer didn’t even need to look, not even needing to feel around for a moment to find what he was after.

Then you just watched him work.

He went in chunks, not necessarily putting things together in the order they should be, but it did help in figuring out what shouldn’t go where. On occasion you or Beel would chime in about what you thought should go where or when to put it in before putting in something else before it would be in the way.

The ticking of the clock became background noise as you found focus on the clicking of gears or the quiet clanks of metal against metal.

“A screw is missing, but I took everything…”

Eventually that was replaced by the slight reverb of all those metals being rummaged around in the metal box. No matter how Lucifer searched though. “Where is it.” No matter how many screws from that box he tried.

He sighed, none working.

Even if you did find it, it wouldn’t be of much use. It was needed for keeping the handle in place, but even before busting that thing was looser than Mammon’s lips for any amount of grimm. It was an especially tiny one too, it very well likely broke from the grinder’s constant use and no one noticed given how it was to be screwed in from the inside.

…

Actually…

Gently plucking the screwdriver from Lucifer’s hand you trotted away for your destination, a pair of confused demons at your heels. Glancing behind yourself you couldn’t help the snicker that escaped you. What a cute, silly sight, like some ducklings or lost puppies but as two grown, who should be intimidating looking men.

“What are you up too.”

“HA-” You slapped a hand over your mouth, desperate to keep in your laughter at the utter deadpan skepticism from the eldest.

And Beelzebub’s hiccupping chuckle he tried hiding behind his fist. Seemed your laughter was infectious for he had a raised brow, clearly wondering what got you so giggly.

“Sh-Sssshhhh. Shut up.” Too much energy rattled inside you. A tension taut in your muscles, your nerves finally spilling out. In repressed fits of laughter and loud snorts you kept whispering for your companion to quiet down pawing his mouth shut.

“You’re being louder. SSSSHHHHHH.”

“No- Beel! Quiet, you’ll wake them up!”

“ssshhhhh”

“no you ssshhhh”

“mc, you’re too loud.”

Among hushed whispers you two dragged one another along, tears pricked the corners of your eyes as your laughter turned to coughs from the sheer tension that coiled within you, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

At last your anxiety had found an outlet and wouldn’t let go, as your giddy, childish laughter came spilling out in full force- “WAH-” and in his own giggle fit Beelzebub flung you over his shoulder, bounding down the stairs.

Very loudly.

You both froze at the bottom.

“What are you two-” the stairs creaked under Lucifer’s first step.

“SSSSHHHH, Lucifer, shut up you’re too lou-”

Before you could finish, before your mind finally caught up in it’s nervous haze that you were speaking to LUCIFER LIKE THAT, Beel dashed away with you in tow.

.

.

.

So you were going to die tonight.

The moment you were placed down you took several deep breaths. You needed to slow down, and better yet get the last of this anxious energy out, hopping in place and shaking your hands.

You were fine.

You… WERE fine.

…

DON’T… dwell on that.

A quiet chuckle petering out, and sniffle and deep breath drew your attention, Beelzebub forcing his shoulders to sag.

“Okay, guess I’ve been a bit nervous toda-uh, night.”

“It’s okay.”

… What a lovely smile Beelzebub had, and what a contrast to the dark spots under his eyes.

“Let’s go get that screw.”

Beel simply nodded in reply, taking your outstretched hand.

His lightly trembled.

… You had to ask. “Was it worse tonight?”

“…” He couldn’t quite look at you. “… I don’t think I’ll be going back to sleep. But, this has made me feel a little better.”

“good.”

“We should get going before Lucifer catches…” His words trailed off, the giant’s eyes catching something in the not too far distance past you.

Lucifer was behind you, or just down the hall at least.

“C’mon, we need a rubber band.” Before another word could be said you dashed off, dragging Beel along.

Ducking into your room for but a moment you dashed back out, slipping past Lucifer on the way.

Now, where was the controller. You sometimes forgot there was a T.V. in the lounge room, usually for movie night or for one of Beel’s games, or if anyone, other than Leviathan, wanted to watch something they’d hijack Mammon’s room since he had the best quality and biggest T.V. And thankfully, since this one wasn’t used as much, that meant the controller was less likely to have been lost, sitting right where it should be on the table.

Relief washed over you after flipping it over, would have been rather embarrassing if you misremembered and it had one of those push-tab backs and not a screw on one. And now just to make sure this one didn’t get lost.

“This is what you needed me to ‘shut up’ for.”

…

You didn’t look to Lucifer, instead twisting the rubber band around the controller. “Look… nobody here has had their coffee yet. We’re all a bit tired and out of it.”

“And just what are you doing.”

“Nobody uses this T.V. anyway, we’ll have plenty of time to get a new screw for the back, and even if we don’t the rubber band dose a good enough job of keeping the back on. Everyone’s going to be much more upset about the coffee grinder being busted that having some rubber keep the battery backing in place. Who knows, this one probably won’t fit the grinder anyway and I’ll put it back like nothing happened.” And with that you quickly and quietly made your way back to Lucifer’s room.

Beel sat beside Lucifer as he examined the tiny screw you placed in his palm. “This better work for both your sakes.”

Huh… not as bad of a reaction to this whole mornin-night as you thought he’d have. He too probably realized just how much of a headache his brothers would sow if they didn’t get their morning fix.

You stood behind the couch behind Beelzebub, just a precaution on your part. That didn’t stop your hands for perching on his shoulder, leaning in for a better look.

…

“A little too short to stay for long, but it should last for the morning.” Was that a hint of relief on Lucifer’s tongue?

“Oh thank goodness.” Not as much as your own though.

“You two will still be making all the coffee runs till this is actually fixed.”

…

Just… just coffee runs? That’s it?

“Okay.”

“Oh-uh-Yeah, yes!”

… Maybe Lucifer was too tired to dole out any kind of real punishment for now, and would summon you and Beel later to talk about these late night meetings.

Well, nothing for it now but to watch him work.

…

It was strange to have two of your demons in one room and for it to be so quiet and tranquil. The crackling of the fire, and clink of metal on metal, the ticking of that big old clock in the corner.

And even stranger, for Lucifer to be… like this. When Lucifer was doing paperwork, there was more of an edge to him. It was work for Diavolo, it had to be perfect.

… A part of you sometimes wondered if Lucifer, despite pledging his loyalty, felt a need for everything to be perfect out of fear him and his brothers would be cast out of their home again.

... Surely, he'd kill you if you dared ever voiced this aloud, but... so much of him didn't read to you as a perfectionist, or even as a man of such god damning pride, just... scared. A little alley cat quick to bare it’s claws and teeth at anything that could bring it harm, to the point of even lashing out at it’s own tail despite itself.

And yet, something seemed softer about him tonight. Instead of punishments here he was, simply repairing the thing. No anger, no frustration, no yelling, just…

Something more big brotherly you supposed.

Actually… all the other times you could recall this side, Lucifer only ever showed it with Beel. Not all the time, the man was still cruel and would starve his already starving little brother, but still…

“Oh.” … Maybe that was why Beelzebub could feel safe around him, the redhead leaning against his brother’s shoulder, fast asleep.

You only caught it for a brief moment, too distracted by your bug, but Lucifer turned a little towards the pair of you before facing the mechanical pieces in hand again.

… You’d let him have that moment.

“He still has nightmares.” Lucifer rarely asked questions, he had to be all knowing, only making statements of observations. Yet that breathiness to his tone… couldn’t be disbelief but something akin to it.

And since it wasn’t a question, you didn’t need to answer. Although, your silence likely was enough of one anyway just from how heavy it felt to you at least.

It was too long till he spoke again. “They’re the same as after the war, they never stopped.”

“I’m not a cure all for everything you know. And… it’s not like my being here somehow makes the war any less painful.” As much as you wish you could. Somehow take it all for them.

“I thought they stopped.” … Actual disbelief? “Less food was going missing in the night soon after you arrived, surely he was just hungry not still…” Those last few words died out.

He just stared at you, eyes barely flickering up and down.

Lucifer went back to working on the coffee grinder. You went back to watching.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Thank you.”

“No need, I would be up anyway. I appreciate his company. He made the earlier ‘days’ here less scary. Without him I may have starved a little, too nervous to eat ‘at night’.”

“…”

Neither of you said much else the rest of the ‘day’, aside from Lucifer grumbling something about finishing the paperwork in the morning before R.A.D. as he draped his bed’s comforter over Beel who was still on the couch.

And the rest of your ‘day’ went just as normal. And the day after too, only notable thing was Beel feeling a little embarrassed about ending up sleeping on the couch in the morning. You all went to R.A.D., a fight broke out over who you’d sit next too at lunch, you went to sleep in the student council room with Solomon that everyone complained about, a lab room almost blew up, Thirteen woke up the pair of you with another one of her traps, she apologized to you by promising to go out with you later for a coffee date, you went back to classes.

Sleeping at school was always exhausting, but that just made getting home feel all the better at least. And because of the timeline you more or less had an entire human weekend before having to return to school again, and it wasn’t even the Devildom’s weekend yet!

And so after dropping your book bag on the bed you trotted over to the closet. What a relief it’d be to get into comfy-

…

Well, that was new. Only noticed it tucked away in the corner since your foot bumped into it.

Carefully you pulled out the little white box. It was plugged in to some outlet you didn’t even know was in your closet. Had a good heft to it, but not too heavy to be a strain to carry out.

A mini fridge? You couldn’t think it to be anything else.

It was strange looking inside, seemed like it was just… a fuzzy light? Yet still you were compelled and curious, reaching a hand inside.

Cold.

The thing was certainly bigger on the inside, you could, and did, stick your whole arm in to feel around.

It was like a magic hat, you were able to pull item after item out seemingly endlessly, some griffin eggs, bread, bloody lingon berries, spiteful dragon fruit, burger buns, milk, juice, chocolate, water bottles, condiments, stinging grapes, pickles, meat paddies, bursting tomatoes, weeping lettuce, bacon, cheese, noodles, vegetables, fish, it just went on and on, but eventually you seemed to have found everything.

… And now to put it all back.

You didn’t mis how everything you packed away happened to be ingredients for your or Beelzebub’s favorite meals.

…

This didn’t change your mind, just because something was here now didn’t change how one felt about the past… but you could admit, it was comforting.

You better hide this away behind the false floorboard so no one found this given your roommates had a habit for snooping through your things. Besides, it’d be nice to be able to surprise Beelzebub with a fuller meal if-

…

No, when he visited you again.

As much as you wished it were an ‘if’.

At least you could keep a pair of sunglasses with this refrigerator so you’d no longer get blinded in the night and stop worrying Beel when he caught you shielding your eyes before.

One of the oldest things in my WIP folder, finally finished this after, what, two, three years. Started it well before this blog at least. One down and… a lot more still to go.

Thank you so much @raphaelshalo for beta reading! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o