[the Little Moments] Barbatos

[the little moments] ♡ Barbatos

9 - That moment when Barbatos froze time

✿ part of a series! ✿

❀  gender neutral reader  ❀

“Thank you for inviting me. I really needed this.”

The sound of crystallization twinkled around you, gently melding with the waves from the lake. It almost resembled music, if not for the organic pacing. There was no rhythm or beat, just the creation and breaking of crystals according to the laws of nature. They would form in clusters, then, as if pushed over an edge, they would shatter and fall into the water, yet moments later, a new bud would grow, undeterred by its flexible and flimsy surface.

“Of course, I’m glad I could provide you with a chance to rest. It isn’t easy to live with the brothers.”

The gazebo was small, neat and tight against the edge of the lake, but it was beautifully designed and sculpted with elegant frames curving upwards to support the glass roof. If it weren’t for Barbatos telling you about it, you wouldn’t even have known there was a roof to begin with. Although it looked like it came straight from a fairytale, you felt a little out of place, like you were too mundane, too simple for such an elegant place that held so much history. 

Looking up, the eternal Devildom sky and its many stars winked back at you. You felt like some sort of royalty sitting at this expensive table, sipping your drink like you owned everything in this garden, despite the true owner sitting across from you at this very moment.

“Your drink is delicious too,” you said, looking at the round, lowball glass in your hands. Your eyes traveled up a little further, past the snow globe sitting at the center, and then reaching Barbatos’ hands—empty.

He smiled at you when you met his eyes.

“Where is your drink?” you asked, realizing how empty it was on his side of the table. Even though he carted over a whole tray of various sweets that, after taking a closer look, you found were all your favorites, he merely interlocked his fingers and watched you.

“I’ve already tasted it,” he said simply. His expression unchanging, he reached over to set one of the sweets next to you. “I believe this dessert goes extremely well with this drink. Why don’t you try it?”

You refused to look at it. “That’s not the point, Barbatos.”

“Oh?” Barbatos, who was in the middle of leaning back into his seat, paused, and turned to you, making such intense eye contact despite how mild his expression was that you forgot to breathe for just a second. So mild, so unreadable, you could only begin to guess at his thoughts. “That’s not the point?”

“No, no it isn’t,” you said firmly. “The point is that I can’t be the only one eating and drinking here, especially since you are the host. You’ve already done so much for me.”

Even if you felt just a smidge like royalty, that didn’t mean you let it get to your head.

As you began to push some of the sweets towards him, he laughed—a deep, warm sound that made your heart flutter more than it should have, and what made it worse was the gloved hand that covered yours as he stopped you. Even through the fabric, you felt the heat seeping through, and you stilled, now focused entirely on the shape of his hand.

“While I did invite you so that you could have a break, I actually had something to ask of you as well,” Barbatos said, again with that same smile you’ve seen so many times before. You bit your lips, eyes flitting between his hand on top of yours and his dark olive eyes. “It’s nothing serious, just a curiosity of mine.”

“What is it?”

With his free hand, he took the snow globe sitting at the center of the table and pressed it into yours, clasping your hands along with the snow globe.

Barbatos… his hands… holding? Mine??

Pulling away with a soft squeeze, as if he could sense how distracted you were, he chuckled and called your name. “Do you know what this is?”

Yes, this is called “holding hands!” you almost blurted out, but if you did, not only would he be disappointed in your intelligence, he probably would never hold a meeting with you again, much less your hands. Whatever remained of your rationality kept your mouth tightly shut. 

You peered into the transparent globe. This snow globe was relatively simple in terms of decoration, having only a small pink sheep curled up in the middle that slept peacefully among the snow. But because it had been picked up earlier, some of the snow flew up and was now settling down again, covering the sheep with sprinkles of white.

It was such an adorable snow globe, you couldn’t help thinking. You wondered where Barbatos got it from, and if you could get one as well to put on your desk. 

“It’s just a snow globe,” you said, handing it back to him. “Why do you ask? These are pretty common.”

When he accepted the globe, the warm fabric of his gloves skimmed across your skin. You froze. The itchy sensation tickled your heart, as if urging you to act on whatever thoughts you had in your mind. You doused it with a big sip of your drink, letting the fruity taste distract you from the thoughts bouncing in your head. 

If you keep touching me, I’m going to go insane! This is worse than the brothers!

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he said, again with that same smile that seemed to never leave his face. You looked away to start cutting the sweets on your plate, putting maybe just a little too much force on the fork than you should have. “I’ve always found them intriguing.”

Tilting your head, your eyebrows furrowed. “What’s so interesting about them? They’re just snow globes.”

“It’s just amazing how humans, the majority of which are unable to use magic, invent their own form of magic,” Barbatos said, slowly spinning the globe around with his long, slender fingers. The agitated snow flew up again, covering everything inside in a flurry of white. Yet despite the commotion, the sheep slept ever so peacefully. “Demons may be powerful with all sorts of magic at our disposal, but we cannot compare to humans’ creativity.”

You watched the storm rage around the small sheep, as if the blizzard was a sort of barrier, or protection against the world beyond it. But to the sheep, that was its world. Was it trapped in this small glass? Or would it be better that this small world was all it had ever known, this paradise of eternal snow?

“We’re just desperate,” you said slowly. Your gaze landed on the lake beside you, just in time to see a cluster of crystalized magic fracture and fall apart, returning back to where it started, only to repeat the same process all over again. Unhurried, it bloomed at its own pace, as if time did not exist. “We spend our lifetime wishing for things. Those who want it bad enough just take matters into their own hands, and some end up more successful than others.”

Barbatos hummed, the low timbre of his voice tickling your ears. “It’s not so bad to be desperate,” he said. “As a result, you managed to create something so beautiful, similar to our time magic. It’s wonderful to see.”

He tapped on the snow globe, the muffled sound catching your attention. His eyes were narrowed with a playful smile that had you nervous but also surprised. It was rare for Barbatos to display anything other than an unreadable expression, smile included, on his face.

“Would you like to learn?” he asked, and of course you could never refuse when he’s the one asking you. How could you when he’s asking so nicely? Even though he was busy with his duties, he still offered his time and attention—this meet up, too. You could barely grasp how long the desserts he’s been stuffing you all this time took him to make.

The stuffy feeling in your chest curled up just like the edges of your lips. “Of course, I would love to.”

For a moment, he seemed satisfied. His lips were set softly, and his eyes were warm, gentle, indulging, as if the moment you asked for anything, he would do it for you without hesitation. As if you asked for the moon, he would also give you the stars, and he probably wouldn’t even sweat doing it.

“Perfect,” he said, getting up from his seat. He offered a hand to you, pulling you up when you accepted it. “Why don’t we save it for our next meeting? For now, shall I demonstrate?”

It wasn’t a question, because then, a wind blew, ruffling your clothes, and the temperature dropped, evident in the puff of fog that left your lips when you exhaled. It was currently summer in the devildom, so you were nowhere near prepared for the sudden temperature change. 

But of course, Barbatos, ever so thoughtful, set a hand, the same one that had helped you up earlier, on your arm. It fought away the chill biting away at your flesh, but it also increased your heart rate way too much for it to be healthy or normal. Not like you let it show.

He was just casting a spell, you told yourself, mentally smacking your face. Just casting a spell. 

“What do you think?” Barbatos said. Despite the magic being applied, he didn’t take away his hand, which slid down to cradle your elbow. Even through the spell, the warmth of his palm stood out, like it was burning wherever he touched.

Distracted, you almost missed his question. It took you an embarrassingly long time to gather the words scattered in your mind. He probably thought you were an idiot, but you didn’t let that stop you from answering.

Taking a look around you, you saw how the previously green leaves of the tree had now turned a deep red, tinging into purple at the edges. They slowly fell off with the wind blowing by, blanketing the ground with their regal crimson. Some even drifted onto the walkway. Although, at a certain point along the path, the autumn leaves stopped entirely, as if there was an invisible wall preventing them from going any further.

“How does this work exactly?” you asked, turning to Barbatos. “You didn’t only change the season, right?”

He regarded you softly with a smile that you had never seen on him before. It was a small smile, not unlike his normally polite ones, but it reached his eyes in that they crinkled so gently at the edges, the love bands underneath his eyes scrunching up in fondness, and if you squinted, there seemed to be a hint of pride lining his eyebrows. 

“You’re so observant, my dear,” he praised, and you felt your heart soar in your chest, expanding and expanding until something that you could only describe as a mess of warmth and gooey tenderness was the sole thing you felt coursing through your body. Nothing could beat compliments. Especially when it came from someone that you cared about. “Your observations are exactly right.”

He gestured at the scenery before you with his free hand, his white glove a stark contrast against the vibrant vegetation. “Although time magic has varied applications, this type is the most common in art. If it makes it easier to understand, the closest analogy is precisely the snowglobe.”

As if someone pressed the two times speed button, the leaves coating the ground withered and dried into scratchy piles of dead greys and muted oranges. Dark clouds soon rolled in after, followed by a gust of wind that, thankfully because of the spell, skimmed right over your skin. You looked up through the glass roof. Breathing out a cloud of fog, you saw that it had begun to snow.

“This technique isolates space,” Barbatos continued. “The isolated space has a separate flow of time decided by the caster. It could be sped up, slowed down, or completely stopped. Anything goes, which makes the art created with this technique so interesting.”

“I can see why,” you said, laughing. “I never knew the garden looked so pretty in winter.” 

With the snowfall came a sort of quiet that only a dark winter night could bring, a kind of chilling hush that fell over the land and slept softly against the white expanse of snow. It was something you didn’t know you missed until this moment. How long had it been since things were this peaceful? 

Barbatos’ grasp on your arm tightened. “You should visit more frequently,” he said in a light voice, watching the snowflakes flutter down. “I don’t see you very often.”

Nothing changed, but something felt different from before.

You reached out a hand. As if it had been summoned, a single, tiny snowflake, one among the indistinctive many, arrived and landed on your palm. In a second, or maybe even less, it melted as quickly as it came. It barely left anything behind, like it had just simply vanished, disappeared into the darkness from where it came. 

There was an itch of guilt in your chest.

“I should,” you finally responded. “I’m sorry, Barbatos.”

He drew nearer. If he was close before, he was closer now, to the point where he could wrap his arms around you in a hug if he just extended his arms. It was such a fragile distance. 

“What is there for you to apologize for?” he asked, his other hand coming up to softly clasp yours, the one the snowflake fell on. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You attempted a smile, but you didn’t think it was particularly convincing. “Maybe I’ll move into the castle. That way I can see you more,” you joked, but you knew it would likely never happen. Diavolo probably wouldn’t mind, but then what about the brothers? What about the rest of the Devildom, the ones that saw you as nothing more than some human? 

What right did you have?

Barbatos leaned towards you, his head just shy of touching yours. He looked intently at you. “My dear,” he said slowly, softly, as if he was afraid that you would miss his words if he went any faster. “You can have anything you want. As long as it is what you truly desire.”

“...Anything?” you whispered.

“Anything,” he promised, and that was enough.

There was something in your throat, something sour that stuck around and refused to come out, and you didn’t know whether to cry or smile, so you did an odd combination of both where it came out more like a wince with your furrowed eyebrows and curled lips, but in the end, it didn’t matter. Your vision blurred, and you guessed that your body chose to cry after all.

You tried a laugh. “You’re so silly, you know,” you said with a trembling voice. “Promising me ‘anything.’ You can’t go back on your words, okay?”

“What kind of demon would I be to go back on my words?” Barbatos said, but you’re pretty sure he was joking. He smiled, and you found that you couldn’t really say anything back when he smiled like that. “Let me give you a gift.”

When he looked down at your hand, you followed his gaze only to see a snowflake in your palm. You thought another one had landed until it melted and crystallized and melted again, all within the span of a couple seconds.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “It’s your snowflake now. It’ll be with you until the end of time.”

You almost couldn’t believe his words. Who could lay claim on a singular snowflake? Yet he had clearly done so just now, so nonchalantly, so casually as if it was something normal that anyone could accomplish and give as a gift.

“What if I lose it?” you choked out, staring worryingly at the timeless, ever transforming droplet of water. “It’s so tiny.”

Barbatos chuckled quietly, drawing your attention back to him. Fondly, he said, “You won’t, my dear. Why don’t you take a closer look?”

Following his words, you studied the snowflake closer, tilting your hand this way and that, when suddenly, the light caught against something around the snowflake. You tried again. A sparkle glinted back at you, and you realized it was from a thin layer of something resembling a plastic film wrapped around the snowflake, encasing it, isolating it from the outside world. A notch stuck out at the top, like it was meant to hook onto something.

It had become… a pendant.

You looked at Barbatos, incredulous at how he came up with an idea like this. He met your exasperated look with a calm smile and gentle, olive green eyes. But at that moment, you fully realized the weight of his words, that he had already begun to fulfill his promise, that his gift meant more than a mere gift.

Anything, he said. Anything. 

If you wanted the moon, he would even give you the stars.

“Barbatos,” you said, and he responded with an attentive hum. “If you ever go back on your words, I think I’ll cry.”

Finally, finally, his forehead rested against yours, as if he had finally allowed himself to do so. The fragile distance between you two had closed. But even though he was so close that you could see the bright green specks in his eyes, you still couldn’t figure out what was going through his mind. Would you ever?

Maybe, the day you find out would be the day you would be able to give him anything he wanted. 

“Please, don’t cry,” he said, and suddenly his voice was so loud, so firm against the swaying snow. His hands were so warm. “I may be a demon, but I’ll always be your demon.”

A cozy feeling tickled your heart.

-------

im sorry this is so late OTL

but don't worry, this series will eventually be finished!

Masterlist!

Quirkless support course deku my beloved <3

Having a Solomon brainrot so here's that one scene from Nightbringer lesson 11-1 cuz🧎‍♀️

A fanart of the boys. Got inspired from the train scene in Spirited Away. Might do another version of this soon.

Deku EVERYWHERE

☽ chapter six | wc: 3k | series m.list ☾

You stare at Mammon for a long moment, resisting the inappropriate urge to laugh. “Um, maybe, yeah,” you say, the words sharp, and he comes further into the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“Okay, before I start on my explanation,” Mammon says, forcing some humor into his tone, “on a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?” 

You roll your eyes, and the tension eases somewhat. You aren’t going to fly off the handle or anything, something he seems to realize, as his shoulders relax. “I’m more…confused,” you say, having to search for the right word. “I don’t understand why you decided to hide this from me. I had to get an explanation from Solomon. Solomon!” 

“I am sorry,” he says placatingly, remorsefully. “I never thought things would turn out like this. Look, I’m going to start from the beginning, okay?” 

You make a gesture for him to go ahead and he does. 

“When I was first summoned,” he says, sitting down on the bed, “I was confused outta my mind. You gotta understand- I had just done a huge-ass research paper on binding spells, and there I was, bound to someone I’d never met before. Someone, who, to my surprise, didn’t even mean to do it! Until I learned Solomon was behind it, I was scared as hell!” 

Despite yourself, you smile. 

“And you were so scared. I thought for sure you were gonna pass out right there in your own house! How could I explain the depth of the situation to someone who was gonna have an apoplexy if I tried to? So I settled on a half-explanation, planning to tell you the full story later. But as you can imagine,” he continues ruefully, “something like that isn’t an easy thing to explain, especially when I’d played dumb beforehand. So I kept choking, and then too much time had passed and I was really stuck!” 

“But you knew I was going to find out the truth about the spell eventually,” you cut in, and he nods. 

“Yeah, but I thought to make it like I hadn’t known either. But Solomon,” he says bitterly, “ruined that. Please don’t think for a second that I liked lyin’ to you, or that I thought it was the right thing to do. My brothers are right when they call me a coward.” 

You want to slap that self-deprecating smile right off his face, but now is not the time for that. “Okay, I understand where you’re coming from,” you say slowly. “Not that I agree with you, but I understand. But here’s something I don’t understand. If you were so concerned about the bond, why didn’t you just-” you pause, finding the quote from the text “-‘sincerely wish it to be broken, with all of your heart and mind’?” 

Mammon winces a little, seeming reluctant to speak, and you roll your eyes. 

“Look,” you say firmly, “I know you’re a demon, and I know you, Mammon. I’m under no illusions about your nature. Just tell me the truth.” 

“Alright, alright,” Mammon agrees. “It was selfish of me, but I was usin’ you. If you can remember, I hadn’t been in the human realm in some time, trapped firmly under Lucifer’s thumb. You were the mean to an end, with the end being my freedom, short-lived as it may be. I was just gonna use you for as long as I could, but Diavolo’s letter threw a wrench in my plans. Plus,” he adds, “you kinda grew on me, Sweetcheeks. At first, I only wanted to use ya for that, but as time went on, I began to understand why we bonded in the first place. You’re funny, and kind, and talented as hell. I really like you. You’re a cool-ass person, you know?” 

“I do know,” you say, and he cracks a smile, one that dims quickly. 

“I’d understand if you want to break the bindin’,” Mammon says quietly. “After all, I lied to you and used you. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to forgive me.” 

“Now, when did I ever say that?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips, and he blinks, taken aback by your sudden fierceness. 

“What?” 

“When did I ever say I wanted to break our binding?” you repeat. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’ve grown on me too. Almost like a fungus.” He opens his mouth but you push on. “So you did some dumb stuff. But so did I! I put my trust in Solomon and messed around with magic I wasn’t prepared for, trapping you with me. As far as I can tell, we’re equally at fault.” 

“Those are nowhere near comparable-” Mammon stars, but you cut him off. 

“Just stop arguing with me. We both know I’m gonna win.” 

Mammon gulps. “Okay.” 

“Good,” you say, “now that that’s done, I can do this.” You light the report on fire, relishing the way it crumbles. Brushing your hands free of ash, you shake your head. “Fucking Solomon, trying to start drama. Good thing we’re a cut above his league.” 

Mammon doesn’t reply, so you look over at him. “What?” 

“Are we just going to ignore that I basically confessed to you?” he asks, and you shrug. 

“I don’t know, are we?” 

“No!” Mammon makes a visible effort to calm his tone. “I mean, I don’t want to. I like you, MC. I like you a lot.” 

“I like you a lot too,” you reply glibly, and he frowns. 

“No, I mean-” 

“I know what you mean,” you say gently, walking over to him. “And I feel the same way. But personally, I don’t really want to have this conversation in this, honestly, kind of ugly room with your family down the hall. I think it can wait for a few days until we get back to my house. If that’s alright with you, I guess,” you add graciously. 

“Yeah, yeah that works,” Mammon says, the tips of his ears red. You hold out a hand to help him up, one he takes and doesn’t let go of for a long moment. You let him do as he pleases, also thankful for his touch. Though you’d tried your best to act sure of yourself and confident, you were just about as nervous during the conversion as Mammon had been. Plus, you hadn’t only stopped his full confession because of the reasons you’d said- you weren’t ready for him to say it! The affection growing between you had been something you’ve tried to ignore, so you need a little bit to come to terms with it before he actually acts!

“So, what now?” you ask, taking a calming breath and showing all of your thoughts into a little box in your mind, locking it tight, and Mammon looks to the door. 

“Well, I know my brothers want to spend more time with you,” he says. “I spent all morning talkin’ you up and now they're more curious than ever.” 

“It’s funny,” you muse, placing your hand over the pact mark laying under your shirt, “before we talked I was so nervous but now that I know the truth about the binding and that we’re not necessarily faking a relationship, I’m more at ease. So bring them on!” 

“You’re such a weirdo,” Mammon says, but his tone is fond. You stick your tongue out at him, making your way to the door. Pulling it open with gusto, you make your way out into the hall, almost running smack-dab into someone. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, realizing it’s Lucifer. “I didn’t see you.” 

“I gathered that,” Lucifer says dryly, but he doesn’t seem quite as cold as he had been yesterday. “Are you free? My brothers and I would all like a chance to get to know you better.”

“I was just coming to find you all,” you say. “Lead the way! I’d love to get to know you guys better too.” 

Behind you, you think you hear Mammon swallow a laugh, but you ignore him, smiling up at Lucifer. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

To your surprise, everyone, including Belphegor, is much more welcoming today. It seems like Mammon really has convinced them that you’re not trying to take advantage of him or whatever, and for that, you’re grateful. You pass the time swapping stories (mostly about Mammon), and by the time dinner rolls around, you’re pretty confident you’ve left a good impression on them all. 

It helps that Simeon is there, smoothing the road by asking you insightful questions, and though you don’t know the angel well at all, you’re immeasurably grateful for his presence. 

Like the night before, you and Mammon sit next to one another at the table. Solomon quirks a brow at your closeness but doesn’t say anything and the best you can muster up for him is a strained smile that just barely conceals your irritation with the sorcerer. 

Diavolo seems to pick up on your new camaraderie with the rest of the brothers, smiling at you proudly when no one’s looking and making sure to keep the conversation flowing. His pride shouldn’t affect you in the slightest and yet you feel warmer receiving the smile, like you’ve just done something right. It’s weird, but you can understand why he makes such a good ruler of the devildom. 

“So, when are you planning to head back up to the human realm?” Satan asks, and you shrug. 

“It all depends on Diavolo, doesn’t it? I planned to be down here for a week at most, which is fine, but any longer isn’t possible because of my shop.” 

Diavolo waves a hand. “Stay as long as you’d like! My castle is your castle, or however it goes. Of course, if you’d like to head back sooner, that’s totally fine with me too.” 

You don’t miss the look he gives Lucifer, who gives the tiniest nod in return. You guess Mammon had been right when he said Lucifer pulls a few of Diavolo’s strings, especially concerning his brothers. Though you haven’t had time to get to know the eldest in a one-on-one setting, you can see his care for his  family, even if he struggles to express it. That doesn’t mean you’re excusing his controlling tendencies, or saying the way Mammon’s been treated is okay at all, but you’re thankful that he at least seems to be coming from a good-ish place. 

The brothers’ lives have not been easy, that much you’re aware of, and you can’t imagine how Mammon and Lucifer have managed, being the two oldest and all. The burden upon their shoulders is something the younger boys will never understand, and you’re not even sure that Mammon understands the one that Lucifer carries. 

It’s a complication situation, but most families are, and with them you can rest easy knowing there is genuine affection and care. 

“I have an idea,” Diavolo says excitedly, drawing you from your thoughts. His attention is focused on you, and you’re not sure if that’s a good sign or not. “How about MC gives us a magic show after dinner?” 

“I,” Solomon volunteers, “for one, would love that. I’ve been interested to see how my little apprentice’s skills have improved. Perhaps we can duel?” 

“That could be fun,” you say wickedly, and Mammon stifles a cold laugh. You don’t think Solomon’s grasped the sheer amount of power you now have, and this will bea good way for you and Mammon to get back at him. “We’ll need a big and preferably non-breakable space for it though.”

“That’s easy enough,” Diavolo says, seemingly delighted by the prospect. 

“Let’s place bets!” Mammon crows. “I’m votin’ for MC!”

“How fun. I’ll vote for MC as well,” Diavolo says. 

“No offence, MC, but my bets are on Solomon,” Asmodeus coos. “Have you all forgotten I’ve got a pact with him? I wouldn’t make one with any old sorcerer.” 

“I’m with Asmo,” Satan agrees. “Despite the innate talent MC may have, Solomon is a king with centuries of experience under his belt.” 

“Gosh, this is just like this anime I’ve been watching!” Leviathan says, and Mammon makes a low groan from beside you. “In Naive Human fights Experianced Sorcerer and Against All Odds Ends Up Winning, the Naive Human wins so I guess I’ll go with MC!” 

“Well, Beel and I are for Solomon,” Belphegor says, crossing his arms. Beside him, Beelzebub doesn’t even look up, applying himself to his food with vengeance. 

“I hope MC wins!” Luke pipes up, surprising you. You had thought he’d vote for Solomon, since they lived together and all, but you guess you were wrong. 

“As do I,” Simeon says, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. “Should there be a punishment for the loser?” 

Solomon smirks. “There should be. Loser owes the winner one favor. One favor that we swear on.” 

“A favor?” Leviathan questions. “That’s kind of boring!” 

“No,” you speak up, “it’s really not. What Solomon is proposing is the right to have complete autonomy of the other. If he were to win, he’d be able to ask me to do anything. Anything. I since I swore on it, I wouldn’t be able to say no.” 

“That seems a little serious for a playful duel,” Mammon tries, but you give him a look. 

“No, I’ll agree to it. After all, if I win, Solomon had to uphold those same rules. So,” you say, holding your hand out to Solomon, “let’s swear on it.”

You complete the oath while everyone watches on with interest. You can feel the promise settling over you, his incantion weighing heavily, and know you have to win. Not only so you don’t have to be beholden to Solomon, but also so that you prove you can do this and not let everyone who’s put their faith in you down. 

And it would be nice to put Solomon in his place. He’s really getting on your nerves. 

Diavolo and Barbatos teleport you to the makeshift arena, and after a few ground rules, like ‘no maiming’ are laid out, you and Solomon take your places. He looks comfortable and confident, but before you can begin to overthink it, Mammon claps you on the shoulder. 

“You’ve got this,” he says, determination blazing in his eyes. “After all, you’ve got The Great Mammon backin’ you up.” 

You laugh. “Oh, well, in that case, how could I not win?” 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says mock seriously, and you can’t reisst the urge to tug him to you, giving him a quick kiss before he has time to register what’s going on. He sputters, going red right before your eyes, and you, with a new confidence, lean into his ear. 

“Help me win and you’ll get a real kiss,” you say, and he regains his cool with record speed. 

“What happened to waiting?” 

You shrug impishly. “I got impatient.”

His eyes soften; you think he’s never been so attractive. It helps that he’s finally shifted into his demon form and all of those delicious abs are once more on display. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he says seriously. “So you better be ready to win.” 

“Are you going to keep making out or are we going to do this any time soon?” Solomon calls boredly, and you huff out an irritated breath. Mammon gives you one last, wolfish smile, then goes to the side, standing with the rest of the audience. 

The duel starts and its apparent that Solomon’s only toying with you. You put a quick stop to that quickly by sending a volley of spells his way, most of them your own creation. It’s harder for him to block something he’s never dealth with before, and it shows in his sloppy spellwork. 

It feels amazing to finally use your magic - Mammon’s magic - to its full potential. The hexes you’re sending are stronger than anything you’ve ever done before but it feels like it’s taking no effort. Mammon doesn’t look affected at all, thankfully, so you continue on, using his power at will. 

The duel is laughably short, and you utterly trounce him. To the point where he’s visibly sweating and straining, and you’re still relaxed. 

“Fine,” he spits, an inhumane gleam in his eyes, “I give. MC wins!” 

“Ha!” you say victoriously, dropping all of your spells. In a show of good sportsmanship, you help him up, making sure he’s alright. 

“MVC, that was amazing!” he says, not at all put out that you’ve won. “As I said this morning, you have the makings of a great sorcerer!” 

“Solomon,” you interrupt tiredly, “as I said this morning, I have no interest in that. In fact, I think I’m going to use my favor now.” 

Everyone gasps, and you just smile. 

“Go ahead,” Solomon allows. “I’m interested to se what you’ve come up with.” 

“That favor I need from you,” you begin grandly, “is to just please, for the love of god, leave me alone for a little while.” 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

Mammon corners you when you get back to your room, poucning immediately. 

“I believe I have a kiss to cash in,” he says, looking down his nose at you. 

“I believe you do,” you agree, excitement thrumming under your skin. “So come here and cash it in.” 

His skin is hot under your hands, and his breath is hot on your face. When his lips meet yours, you sigh into him, melting immediately. 

“Damn,” Mammon says, pulling back slightly. “I guess we really are soulmates, because Sweetcheeks, your lips were fucking made for me.” 

“Shut up!” you laugh, pushing him away. “That’s corny as hell.” 

He catches your hand, expression warm, and you want to go back to your house, like ASAP. 

“Good job on winning the duel,” he says. 

“I only won thanks to you,” you say, and he shakes his head. 

“No way! That was all skill. I only provided the energy.” 

“Yeah, but without the energy, I wouldn’t have been able to do jack shit,” you point out, and he sighs. 

“Fine. We’re both awesome ass people who put Solomon in his place. Happy?” 

“Very. But I have once question for you,” you say, finally giving voice to a thought that’s plagued you since you met him. “Can I touch your abs?” 

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