When Jasmine got isekaied into a new world full of magic and demons, she prepared herself to survive the school year. But through her time there, she realized that maybe her stay wouldn't be as bad as she thought. A mysterious butler, along with a motley crew of demons, angels, and a human will keep her company in this unusual realm, but will it be enough to finally give her a family that loves her?
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Barbatos wasn't used to the concept of love. Or feelings. It was unusual, unnecessary, and certainly out of character for him.
But now, with a new variable that came into his life in the form of jasmine tea and weekly tea parties, can he really ignore the new sensation brewing in his chest?
He wouldn't overstep. His role was to remain in the background, playing the supporting role.
He would soon discover that to be much more difficult than it had ever been.
Chapter 1
Crashing into a large room with many strange people, Jasmine is taken to her new abode and meets her new "guardian". Who are these people, and what do they want from her?
Chapter 2
A new acquaintance, Leviathan, takes Jasmine to his room to discuss a proposition-- a pact with none other than his own brother.
Chapter 3
It's time for school, and Jasmine finally meets Simeon and Solomon.
Chapter 4
Jasmine asks Lucifer some questions about Mammon and becomes an IT worker to help Simeon with tech problems.
Chapter 5
Jasmine got terribly lost on her way back to the HoL and somehow ended up at a market street. A kind green-haired man bought her tea, though. Who could that be?
Chapter 6
Jasmine and Leviathan finally found Mammon's most treasured possession, and with it, her first pact is made. Barbatos is... having some of his own troubles.
Chapter 7
There's a suspicious lack of a seventh brother, Jasmine realizes, but Beel promises to explain sometime later. Jasmine goes through a school day, realizes just how pretty she finds Barbatos, and gets dragged into tutoring with Solomon.
Chapter 8
Mammon's pact is a new development, but he seems to almost expect Jasmine to take advantage of it. Tutoring with Solomon goes about as well as expected--- completely off the rails. Who's going to teach her instead?
Chapter 9
The seventh brother, Belphegor, pretends to be a human when he appears to Jasmine in her magic-exhausted state. She goes to Lucifer immediately, and he schedules a meeting with the prince for the next day.
Chapter 10
The time for Lucifer to fess up to what he did to Belphegor has arrived, and Diavolo wants to arrest him for treason. Jasmine requests another option, and Diavolo proposes she make a pact with the youngest brother.
Chapter 11
Levi, apparently, also wants to make a pact with Jasmine. Jasmine has to attend tutoring once more, but this time, it's with Barbatos.
Chapter 12
Jasmine checks in on Beel, and goes to ask Satan for help in finding something. Belphegor's grief hatred is only growing stronger.
Chapter 13
Everyone plays Monopoly while Asmo does their nails. At the end, Mammon, Levi, and Beel agree to have a sleepover with Jasmine. Mammon has a talk with Jasmine about her using his pact, and Beel offers to make one with her.
Hello!! I think your fics are really sweet, and i’ve seen your posts about Satan, but I was wondering if you could do another character?
I’m the BIGGEST Barbatos stan, so i was wondering if you could do a fic ab us (MC) touching his tail/horns? Because im the game he remarks how he USUALLY doesn’t like them being touched, but he insinuates he might let MC, and im very upset they never followed up on that.
It can be as long as you’re comfortable writing!! I know my scenes tend to be like 2-4k words, but that’s INSANE for one shots so i really have no idea what a normal amount is, or what you usually write! Maybe something a bit over 1k?
(Rᥱquᥱst) Bᥲrbᥲtos - ᥲ touchყ subjᥱct
Bᥲrbᥲtos cᥲrriᥱs himsᥱlf with thᥱ sort of composurᥱ thᥲt mᥲkᥱs pᥱoplᥱ forgᥱt hᥱ is dᥲᥒgᥱrous.
It is ᥒot softᥒᥱss thᥲt disguisᥱs him. Not kiᥒdᥒᥱss, ᥱithᥱr. Bᥲrbᥲtos is politᥱ iᥒ thᥱ sᥲmᥱ wᥲყ ᥲᥒciᥱᥒt thiᥒgs ᥲrᥱ politᥱ - prᥱcisᥱ, cᥲrᥱful, immᥲculᥲtᥱlყ rᥱstrᥲiᥒᥱd. Evᥱrყ movᥱmᥱᥒt fᥱᥱls dᥱlibᥱrᥲtᥱ. Evᥱrყ smilᥱ mᥱᥲsurᥱd dowᥒ to thᥱ ᥲᥒglᥱ of it. Hᥱ glidᥱs through rooms iᥒstᥱᥲd of wᥲlkiᥒg through thᥱm, hᥲᥒds foldᥱd ᥒᥱᥲtlყ bᥱhiᥒd his bᥲck whilᥱ othᥱrs stumblᥱ ovᥱr thᥱmsᥱlvᥱs trყiᥒg to iᥒtᥱrprᥱt whᥲt hᥱ might trulყ bᥱ thiᥒkiᥒg bᥱᥒᥱᥲth ᥲll thᥲt impossiblᥱ ᥱlᥱgᥲᥒcᥱ.
Evᥱᥒ dᥱmoᥒs ᥲrᥱ wᥲrყ ᥲrouᥒd him.
Espᥱciᥲllყ dᥱmoᥒs.
You ᥒoticᥱ it quicklყ ᥲftᥱr spᥱᥒdiᥒg ᥱᥒough timᥱ iᥒ thᥱ cᥲstlᥱ. Thᥱ wᥲყ coᥒvᥱrsᥲtioᥒs strᥲightᥱᥒ whᥱᥒ Bᥲrbᥲtos ᥱᥒtᥱrs thᥱ room. Thᥱ iᥒstiᥒctivᥱ cᥲutioᥒ thᥲt sᥱttlᥱs ovᥱr pᥱoplᥱ whᥱᥒ his ᥱყᥱs liᥒgᥱr oᥒ thᥱm too loᥒg. Evᥱᥒ thᥱ brothᥱrs, rᥱcklᥱss ᥲs thᥱყ ᥲrᥱ, trᥱᥲt him with ᥲ cᥱrtᥲiᥒ subcoᥒscious ᥲwᥲrᥱᥒᥱss rᥱsᥱrvᥱd for crᥱᥲturᥱs cᥲpᥲblᥱ of ᥱᥒdiᥒg thiᥒgs quiᥱtlყ.
Aᥒd ყᥱt ყou cᥲᥒᥒot stop stᥲriᥒg ᥲt his tᥲil.
Iᥒ ყour dᥱfᥱᥒcᥱ, it is difficult ᥒot to.
Bᥲrbᥲtos rᥲrᥱlყ ᥲllows himsᥱlf to rᥱlᥲx visiblყ, but thᥱrᥱ ᥲrᥱ momᥱᥒts - smᥲll, flᥱᥱtiᥒg thiᥒgs - whᥱrᥱ piᥱcᥱs of his truᥱ ᥒᥲturᥱ slip loosᥱ ᥲrouᥒd ყou. Somᥱtimᥱs his tᥲil curls lᥲzilყ bᥱhiᥒd him whilᥱ hᥱ brᥱws tᥱᥲ. Somᥱtimᥱs thᥱ shᥲrp poiᥒts of his horᥒs bᥱcomᥱ visiblᥱ bᥱᥒᥱᥲth dᥲrk grᥱᥱᥒ hᥲir ᥲftᥱr pᥲrticulᥲrlყ ᥱxhᥲustiᥒg dᥲყs. Nᥱvᥱr fullყ ᥱxposᥱd. Nᥱvᥱr vulᥒᥱrᥲblᥱ ᥱᥒough to fᥱᥱl cᥲrᥱlᥱss. Just ᥱᥒough to rᥱmiᥒd ყou thᥲt bᥱᥒᥱᥲth ᥲll thᥱ pᥱrfᥱct mᥲᥒᥒᥱrs ᥲᥒd tᥲilorᥱd glovᥱs stᥲᥒds somᥱthiᥒg dᥱᥱplყ iᥒhumᥲᥒ.
You thiᥒk thᥱყ suit him bᥱᥲutifullყ.
Which is prᥱcisᥱlყ whყ this bᥱcomᥱs ᥲ problᥱm.
“You’rᥱ stᥲriᥒg ᥲgᥲiᥒ.”
Thᥱ obsᥱrvᥲtioᥒ ᥲrrivᥱs smoothlყ from ᥲcross thᥱ kitchᥱᥒ, ᥲccompᥲᥒiᥱd bყ thᥱ soft cliᥒk of porcᥱlᥲiᥒ. Bᥲrbᥲtos doᥱs ᥒot ᥱvᥱᥒ glᥲᥒcᥱ up from thᥱ tᥱᥲ hᥱ is prᥱpᥲriᥒg whilᥱ spᥱᥲkiᥒg, though ᥲmusᥱmᥱᥒt flickᥱrs fᥲiᥒtlყ ᥲt thᥱ corᥒᥱrs of his mouth.
Hᥱᥲt crᥲwls immᥱdiᥲtᥱlყ up ყour ᥒᥱck.
“I wᥲsᥒ’t stᥲriᥒg.”
“How fortuᥒᥲtᥱ,” hᥱ murmurs. “I would hᥲtᥱ to thiᥒk mყ ᥲppᥱᥲrᥲᥒcᥱ hᥲd bᥱcomᥱ distrᥲctiᥒg.”
You ᥒᥲrrow ყour ᥱყᥱs ᥲt his obvious tᥱᥲsiᥒg, ყᥱt ყour gᥲzᥱ drifts dowᥒwᥲrd ᥲᥒყwᥲყ - trᥲitorous thiᥒg thᥲt it is. His tᥲil swᥲყs oᥒcᥱ bᥱhiᥒd him slowlყ, ᥱlᥱgᥲᥒt ᥱvᥱᥒ iᥒ motioᥒ, dᥲrk scᥲlᥱs cᥲtchiᥒg wᥲrm light from thᥱ chᥲᥒdᥱliᥱrs ovᥱrhᥱᥲd. You woᥒdᥱr suddᥱᥒlყ whᥲt it fᥱᥱls likᥱ. Smooth pᥱrhᥲps. Cool bᥱᥒᥱᥲth ყour fiᥒgᥱrtips.
Bᥲrbᥲtos ᥒoticᥱs ყour stᥲriᥒg this timᥱ propᥱrlყ.
Of coursᥱ hᥱ doᥱs.
His ᥱყᥱs lift towᥲrd ყours ᥲt lᥲst, ᥲᥒd immᥱdiᥲtᥱlყ ყou fᥱᥱl piᥒᥒᥱd bᥱᥒᥱᥲth thᥱ wᥱight of his ᥲttᥱᥒtioᥒ. Thᥱrᥱ is somᥱthiᥒg uᥒiquᥱlყ tᥱrrifყiᥒg ᥲbout bᥱiᥒg pᥱrcᥱivᥱd bყ Bᥲrbᥲtos dirᥱctlყ. Not bᥱcᥲusᥱ hᥱ looks cruᥱl, but bᥱcᥲusᥱ hᥱ looks kᥒowiᥒg. Likᥱ hᥱ hᥲs ᥲlrᥱᥲdყ wᥲtchᥱd this ᥱxᥲct momᥱᥒt uᥒfold couᥒtlᥱss timᥱs bᥱforᥱ ყou ᥱvᥱr ᥲrrivᥱd iᥒ it.
“You’rᥱ curious,” hᥱ obsᥱrvᥱs softlყ.
Thᥱ ᥱmbᥲrrᥲssmᥱᥒt worsᥱᥒs cᥲtᥲstrophicᥲllყ.
“A littlᥱ,” ყou ᥲdmit wᥱᥲklყ.
Bᥲrbᥲtos hums.
Most dᥱmoᥒs bᥱcomᥱ protᥱctivᥱ ovᥱr vulᥒᥱrᥲblᥱ fᥱᥲturᥱs iᥒstiᥒctivᥱlყ. Horᥒs. Wiᥒgs. Tᥲils. Sᥱᥒsitivᥱ plᥲcᥱs rᥲrᥱlყ ᥱᥒtrustᥱd to othᥱrs cᥲsuᥲllყ. You kᥒow ᥱᥒough ᥲbout Dᥱvildom culturᥱ ᥒow to uᥒdᥱrstᥲᥒd touchiᥒg thᥱm without pᥱrmissioᥒ would bᥱ dᥱᥱplყ iᥒvᥲsivᥱ. Iᥒtimᥲtᥱ, ᥱvᥱᥒ.
Which is whყ ყou ᥒᥱvᥱr ᥲsk outright.
Still, curiositყ liᥒgᥱrs ᥱmbᥲrrᥲssiᥒglყ visiblᥱ ᥲcross ყour fᥲcᥱ ᥲppᥲrᥱᥒtlყ, bᥱcᥲusᥱ Bᥲrbᥲtos goᥱs strᥲᥒgᥱlყ quiᥱt ᥲftᥱrwᥲrd. His glovᥱd fiᥒgᥱrs pᥲusᥱ briᥱflყ ᥲgᥲiᥒst thᥱ tᥱᥲcup iᥒ his hᥲᥒds bᥱforᥱ hᥱ sᥱts it dowᥒ with cᥲrᥱful prᥱcisioᥒ.
“I trust vᥱrყ fᥱw pᥱoplᥱ,” hᥱ ᥲdmits ᥲftᥱr ᥲ momᥱᥒt. “Fᥱwᥱr still with somᥱthiᥒg cᥲpᥲblᥱ of hᥲrmiᥒg mᥱ.”
Your hᥲᥒd stills iᥒstiᥒctivᥱlყ.
“I’d ᥒᥱvᥱr-”
“I kᥒow.”
Agᥲiᥒ - immᥱdiᥲtᥱ. Cᥱrtᥲiᥒ.
Thᥱ words lᥱᥲvᥱ ᥒo room for doubt whᥲtsoᥱvᥱr.
Aᥒd suddᥱᥒlყ ყou uᥒdᥱrstᥲᥒd thᥲt this is ᥒot cᥲsuᥲl for him ᥲt ᥲll.
Bᥲrbᥲtos could prᥱdict wᥲrs bᥱforᥱ thᥱყ hᥲppᥱᥒ. Could rᥱᥲrrᥲᥒgᥱ timᥱliᥒᥱs thᥱmsᥱlvᥱs if hᥱ trulყ wishᥱd. Hᥱ stᥲᥒds bᥱsidᥱ Diᥲvolo ᥲs oᥒᥱ of thᥱ most tᥱrrifყiᥒg bᥱiᥒgs iᥒ thᥱ Dᥱvildom, ᥲᥒciᥱᥒt ᥲᥒd impossiblყ powᥱrful bᥱყoᥒd humᥲᥒ comprᥱhᥱᥒsioᥒ.
Yᥱt hᥱrᥱ hᥱ is ᥲllowiᥒg ყou to touch somᥱthiᥒg vulᥒᥱrᥲblᥱ.
Bᥱcᥲusᥱ hᥱ trusts ყou ᥒot to hurt him.
Thᥱ thought mᥲkᥱs ყour chᥱst tightᥱᥒ pᥲiᥒfullყ.
Your fiᥒgᥱrs movᥱ upwᥲrd bᥱforᥱ ყou cᥲᥒ ovᥱrthiᥒk it, brushiᥒg cᥲrᥱfullყ ᥒᥱᥲr whᥱrᥱ his tᥲil mᥱᥱts thᥱ smᥲll of his bᥲck. Bᥲrbᥲtos visiblყ shuddᥱrs.
It is tiᥒყ.
Bᥲrᥱlყ thᥱrᥱ.
But dᥱvᥲstᥲtiᥒg, ᥒoᥒᥱthᥱlᥱss.
His composurᥱ frᥲcturᥱs just ᥱᥒough ᥲftᥱrwᥲrd for ყou to ᥒoticᥱ thᥱ flush crᥱᥱpiᥒg fᥲiᥒtlყ ᥲcross pᥲlᥱ skiᥒ bᥱᥒᥱᥲth his hᥲirliᥒᥱ. You stᥲrᥱ ᥲt him iᥒ stuᥒᥒᥱd silᥱᥒcᥱ. Bᥲrbᥲtos looks ᥲwᥲყ first.
“You ᥲppᥱᥲr plᥱᥲsᥱd with ყoursᥱlf,” hᥱ rᥱmᥲrks quiᥱtlყ.
“You shivᥱrᥱd.”
“How cruᥱl of ყou to mᥱᥒtioᥒ it.”
But thᥱrᥱ is ᥒo rᥱᥲl rᥱprimᥲᥒd iᥒ his voicᥱ. If ᥲᥒყthiᥒg, hᥱ souᥒds ᥱmbᥲrrᥲssᥱd. Thᥱ rᥱᥲlisᥲtioᥒ fᥱᥱls ᥲbsurdlყ prᥱcious.
You smilᥱ hᥱlplᥱsslყ bᥱforᥱ ყour gᥲzᥱ drifts upwᥲrd towᥲrd thᥱ smᥲll glimpsᥱ of horᥒ visiblᥱ through dᥲrk grᥱᥱᥒ hᥲir.
Bᥲrbᥲtos ᥒoticᥱs immᥱdiᥲtᥱlყ.
Aᥒd sighs.
“You ᥲrᥱ bᥱcomiᥒg grᥱᥱdყ ᥒow.”
Your fᥲcᥱ burᥒs. “I didᥒ’t ᥱvᥱᥒ sᥲყ ᥲᥒყthiᥒg!”
“You didᥒ’t ᥒᥱᥱd to.”
For ᥲ momᥱᥒt ყou ᥱxpᥱct him to rᥱfusᥱ ᥱᥒtirᥱlყ. Horᥒs fᥱᥱl morᥱ iᥒtimᥲtᥱ somᥱhow. Morᥱ vulᥒᥱrᥲblᥱ. But Bᥲrbᥲtos oᥒlყ studiᥱs ყour ᥱxprᥱssioᥒ silᥱᥒtlყ bᥱforᥱ ᥱvᥱᥒtuᥲllყ stᥱppiᥒg closᥱr iᥒstᥱᥲd.
Closᥱ ᥱᥒough thᥲt ყou cᥲᥒ fᥱᥱl wᥲrmth rᥲdiᥲtiᥒg from him.
“If I pᥱrmit this,” hᥱ sᥲყs softlყ, “ყou must promisᥱ ᥒot to lᥲugh.”
Thᥱ rᥱquᥱst cᥲtchᥱs ყou complᥱtᥱlყ off guᥲrd.
“I wouldᥒ’t!”
“You sᥲყ thᥲt ᥒow.”
Thᥱrᥱ is ᥲctuᥲl cᥲutioᥒ iᥒ his voicᥱ suddᥱᥒlყ, ᥲᥒd thᥱ vulᥒᥱrᥲbilitყ of it ᥒᥱᥲrlყ uᥒdoᥱs ყou ᥱᥒtirᥱlყ.
You ᥒod cᥲrᥱfullყ ᥲᥒყwᥲყ.
Bᥲrbᥲtos lowᥱrs his hᥱᥲd slightlყ ᥲftᥱrwᥲrd iᥒ silᥱᥒt pᥱrmissioᥒ.
// i dont like this fic, personally, as i feel i didn’t do barbs justice and also the writing is a little sloppy here (curse the 5k essay for school that has destroyed me). hopefully some feedback to improve, i wont take offense
⏳ synopsis: Everyone plays Monopoly while Asmo does their nails. At the end, Mammon, Levi, and Beel agree to have a sleepover with Jasmine. Mammon has a talk with Jasmine about her using his pact, and Beel offers to make one with her.
⏳ word count: ~4200
At some point, voices began to carry from somewhere in the house, pulling Jasmine from her reading. Checking the time, she realized it was already nine pm… she’d been sitting there, absorbed in the book Satan had given her, for hours. Standing up, she bent slightly backwards to unstiffen her back and shoulders. After stretching a bit more, she made her way to the source of the noise.
Entering the sitting room, she saw several of the brothers already sitting around or setting up— Asmodeus was readying a small, makeshift nail station on the table in the center of the room, Leviathan was playing games on his phone, half-laying on the floor, partially propped up by the couch behind him, and Satan and Mammon were bickering about something or other, both sitting on said couch. Satan was sitting normally, with one leg lifted onto his other knee, while Mammon sat— or rather laid— with one foot tossed entirely over the back of the couch, and the other stretched toward Satan.
“Eeee! Jasmine, you’re here!” Asmodeus squealed, running up to her and gently dragging her by the wrist toward the table. “Come on, we still need to find a shade that matches your skin tone,” he said, pushing her gently down into a criss-cross position on the floor, and he immediately sat down next to her, still holding her hand captive.
“OI! Let the human go!” Mammon yelled, jerking up into sitting upright. As soon as he did, Satan’s eyebrow rose up so far it was practically obscured behind his hair, looking between the three of them.
“It’s okay, Mammon, he didn’t actually drag me,” Jasmine reassured. She could feel the pact mark on the back of her palm tingle, but she couldn’t distinguish what emotion exactly she felt tugging at the back of her conscience. Suddenly, the memory of Mammon grabbing her by the wrist and then her snapping at him played in her mind— did he remember that?
“Tch, whatever,” he huffed, falling back onto the couch while still glaring at Asmodeus. “Jus’ yell at ‘im if he tries anythin’, though,” Mammon mumbled, cheeks growing warm.
“Awww, getting all protective of your pact mate, Mammon?” Asmo teased, leaning forward with his chin on his palm.
“What are ya talkin’ about?! I don’t care about nothin’!” he refuted strongly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m jus’ tryna stop ya from gettin’ smacked by me or Levi if ya pull some crap!”
“Not wrong,” Leviathan chimed in, not even looking up from whatever game he was playing intently.
“I’m not planning to lay a hand on her! Who do you think I am?” Asmo defended, clutching his pearls dramatically.
“Well, I appreciate the support,” Jasmine laughed, looking at her two pact mates with a mix of surprise and appreciation. At the same time, Beelzebub emerged from the hallway, carrying a pile of various snacks.
“Here are your noodles, Mammon,” he said, handing a cup noodle container to Mammon carefully, trying not to drop anything.
“Aw, man, thanks bro!” Mammon exclaimed, grabbing the cup and sitting up slightly to eat them.
“Mm. Asmo, your gummies.”
“Thank you Beeeel~” Asmo drawled, snatching the packet from Beel’s hand delicately.
“Everyone else, grab whatever you can find,” he instructed, sitting down on the floor next to Jasmine after setting down the pile of snacks onto the table. “I was trying really hard not to eat them on the way here,” he said sadly, his stomach growling at that exact moment. He sat down next to where Jasmine was, on the opposite side of Asmo, and leaned back onto the couch.
Thanking Beel as well, Jasmine quickly picked out a plain flavor and settled back down. “Where’s Lucifer?” she asked, looking around the room.
“He’ll get here eventually,” Leviathan replied, finally turning off his phone. “He tends to run a bit late with work.”
“Tch. He needs to start actually sleeping, so he can at least stay longer once he does show up,” Satan added.
“I appreciate the concern, Satan, but I’m here now,” Lucifer said, standing behind the couch. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses, and his hair seemed ruffled, like how Jasmine had seen it when he was sleeping.
“Lucifer! Come sit, I’m about to do Jasmine’s nails!” Asmodeus called, gesturing him over.
“Oh? What color were you thinking?” Lucifer asked, sitting down on another couch next to the main table. Making eye contact with Jasmine, he smiled. “It’s practically a right of passage. Asmo does the nails of everyone he likes,” he explained.
“Does everyone have a different color?” Jasmine inquired, both remembering and seeing Mammon’s white, Levi’s dark purple, and Satan’s lime green nails.
“Mhm!” Asmo confirmed, pulling out a box of nail colors. Jasmine could’ve sworn she would’ve seen a box that large and colorful, but she hadn’t noticed it until now. “I change it up every now and then, if I want to try something new. What’s your favorite color?” he asked, not looking up from his rummaging.
“Green,” she answered. “Either a dark, forest green, or a more muted sage green. Not like the color Satan has,” she clarified. Immediately, Asmo pulled out several options and held them up to compare with her hand, occasionally closing one eye. After a few moments, he had it narrowed down to just one.
“How do you feel about this one?” he asked, handing it to her carefully. It was exactly like what she described— a muted, soft green color that didn’t throw itself into view, but that would instead go well with most colors without clashing.
“It’s really pretty,” Jasmine replied, turning it over in the light.
“Don’t feel pressured about choosing a perfect color,” Asmo reassured. “You can always ask me to redo them later!”
“I think I’ll just go with this color. I really like it,” she smiled, handing it back to him.
“Oooo, what’d ya choose?” Mammon asked, leaning over the side of the couch to try and catch a peek and taking a bite of his ramen at the same time. “Ow!” he yelled after getting smacked by Asmodeus, “What was that for?!”
“You’ll see it once I'm done,” Asmo retorted, turning back to Jasmine and picking up her hand, starting to prepare her nails for polish.
“Sorry, I pick at my nails sometimes,” Jasmine apologized once she realized how short her nails had gotten. They weren’t pretty— the cuticles were dry and uneven, and the nails themselves were so short it would be difficult to apply anything onto them.
“No worries, darling,” Asmo reassured. “I’ve seen worse. You should’ve seen Levi before I got my hands on him,” he joked, shooting a lighthearted glare at his brother.
“But Levi’s nails are long?”
“They are now,” Asmo explained, buffering her nails, “But he used to bite them as a nervous habit.”
“Yea, I guess I got used to not being able to do that,” Levi added, looking at his own painted nails.
“Since you’re a girl, I can put on some extensions for you!” Asmodeus offered, seemingly genuinely excited. “It would make them last longer, too.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, then I don’t mind,” Jasmine agreed. “I like them pretty short, though.”
“Got it! I’ll keep them pretty close to normal for you then, darling,” he concluded. Apparently done with buffering the nails on her left hand, he let go and reached out to gently grab her right one. Asmo’s nails were obviously painted as well, she noticed, with them alternating between pink and teal. Suddenly, she saw Mammon pop up in her peripheral vision, this time holding several board games.
“Oi, what do y’all wanna play?” he asked, setting them down next to the snacks Beel brought earlier.
“Oh, how about Monopoly?” Satan proposed, setting his book down.
“Uuuugh, but Monopoly’s so boriiiing,” Asmo whined.
“It’s not boring, you just can't appreciate the mathematical logic required to calculate the best properties to buy, or whether it’s more effective to sell them,” Satan countered.
“I didn’t process anything you just said,” Levi sighed, tossing his head back to get his hair out of his face. “I don’t mind, but you and Mammon win every time.”
“Mammon?” Jasmine questioned. Everyone always called him an idiot, but was he just good at games? Or maybe he had good luck.
“Oh man, Mammon’s a dumbass, but when it comes to money?” Leviathan laughed.
“Mammon is really good at math, but only when it comes to money,” Satan added. “We think it’s because of his sin.”
“Hey! Why’s it surprisin’ that I’m good at math?!” Mammon yelled, upset.
“It’s not,” Jasmine reassured, “I just didn’t know.”
“Math and mechanics tend to be Mammon’s strong suits,” Lucifer chimed in. “He’s just not good at details.”
“Yea, whatever. We’re playin’ Monopoly, so gather ‘round!” Mammon instructed, sitting next to Beel so that the both of them were on Jasmine’s left, and Mammon was between Beel and Satan. There were three couches in total that surrounded three sides of the table, with Satan by the center one, next to the smaller edge of the table, and Leviathan and Lucifer were on the left side, opposite from Jasmine and the others. Levi stayed where he was, already on the floor, while Lucifer and Satan remained sitting on their respective couches, leaning down to reach the table when necessary. Taking out and setting up the board game, Mammon distributed money to everyone.
“I call the ship!” Levi yelled, snatching it as soon as the metal tokens were placed down on the table.
“The pieces we use never change, Leviathan,” Satan sighed, rolling his eyes, and picked up the cat piece. In just a few moments, the rest of the metallic figurines were handed out or taken from the table. Lucifer took the top hat, Mammon chose the dog, and Beel grabbed the wheelbarrow.
“Yo, here’s yours, Asmo,” Mammon said, tossing the thimble to him.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be playing, hon. Jasmine, do you want to take my piece?" Asmodeus offered, catching the small metal projectile with one hand and holding it up to her, barely looking up from his work.
“Sure,” Jasmine replied, taking the piece. “This is one of my favorite ones, actually.”
As they began the game, it was clearly apparent who knew what they were doing and who did not. Satan went through his turns with a careful, analytical feeling, trying to figure out what the most optimal move for everything was. Mammon simply winged it, but as soon as it came to counting money or managing expenses, his eyes sharpened in a way Jasmine wasn’t used to seeing from him. Beel and Jasmine didn’t try very hard to win, eventually figuring there was no point in getting too into it. Levi and Lucifer, however, appeared to try their best with the sole purpose of annoying Mammon and Satan, respectively.
Sometime through the game, Beel poked Jasmine’s side. Looking up, she saw him tilt his head as if asking something, and she remembered their conversation from earlier.
“Do you wanna come closer?” she mouthed, tilting her head to the side as well. Seeing his nod, she gestured for him to scoot closer, one hand still held captive by Asmodeus. He shifted closer to her gently, and she could feel his warmth through her clothes where they touched. With Beel leaning into her slightly, the game continued without much further interruption, other than both Mammon and Leviathan slowly gravitating toward Jasmine as well. By the end of the night, they were all practically in a big pile, all centered around Jasmine.
Eventually, Asmo also joined, finishing her nails. They looked professionally done— perfectly shaped, cuticles trimmed, and no extra polish around her nails— so much so that Jasmine took several minutes to simply examine them in between rounds of Monopoly, twisting her hand under the light. They were one of her favorite shades of green— a calming, sophisticated, muted green that gave off an air of elegance. Asmo had kept his promise, as well— they were longer, but not obnoxiously so. She would almost think they were natural, but she knew that her own nails were much too short to look so nice. Asmo had begun to redo Lucifer's nails, with Lucifer being out of the game already at that point. Lucifer had done his best, but he was visibly tired, and he appeared to derive more pleasure from observing his brothers than anything else. Jasmine watched Asmo put the bloody red color onto Lucifer’s nails for some time, not used to seeing the formal man without his gloves and full attire.
Looking back at the board in front of them, Jasmine examined who had what properties, and the position that houses were laid out in. Almost everyone was bankrupt in the game by this point, with the exception of the two predicted winne—
“YES!” Mammon yelled, jumping up from where he was sitting. “Suck it, Satan! I told ya I’d win!”
Satan tsked, rolling his eyes. “Your luck is insane sometimes, you know that, right?” he sighed, getting more pissed off once he started to think about it. “Statistically, it’s practically impossible to avoid every single one of my spaces for that long— I own over three quarters of the board!”
“Quarters, shmuarters. The important thing is that I WON!” Mammon exclaimed gleefully, ignoring Satan’s incensed ramblings.
“It’s late, you should all go to sleep soon,” Lucifer advised, yawning himself. “I’ll be going to sleep, now. Goodnight, everyone,” he announced, standing up and tugging his gloves back on.
“Is it…?” Levi muttered, checking the time on his DDD. “It’s only midnight. I usually stay up way later than this, lol.”
“Already?! I need to go to sleep immediately,” Asmo gasped. “How could I possibly maintain such perfect skin if I don’t get my beauty sleep?”
“It is rather late,” Satan agreed, having calmed down from the loss. “Well, goodnight everyone, I suppose.”
“Night!” Jasmine called out to them, waving as they went back to their respective rooms. Only her, Beel, Levi, and Mammon were left.
“Hey, Jasmine?” Beel finally piped up after eating quietly for most of the night.
“Yea, what's up?”
“Can I… sleep in your room?” he asked, blushing slightly.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Why’d you get to sleep with Jasmine?!” Mammon objected.
“Yea, huh? What’s this about?” Levi added, looking between her and Beel with envy.
“First of all, calm down, both of you,” Jasmine sighed, closing her eyes in exasperation before reopening them. “I offered Beel the option of sleeping in my room if he’d like to, just like a sleepover type of thing. You all are free to join, if he’s fine with that too,” she offered, looking toward Beel questioningly. Seeing him simply shrug, she looked back at her two pactmates. “Well, there you have it. Do you guys wanna have a sleepover?”
“I mean, The Great Mammon would never wanna have a sleepover with a human. But, I guess I’ve gotta, to keep ya safe!” Mammon deflected, looking away shyly.
“I dunno about this dumbass, but… if you’re okay with someone like me hanging out with you, I’d join,” Levi agreed, also embarrassed.
“Perfect. Go do whatever you have to do, and then meet back in my room when you’re ready,” Jasmine instructed, finally standing up and leaving to go to her room.
“Aye-aye, captain!” came Leviathan’s voice from where she’d just left him. Beel simply hummed an affirmative, while Mammon came running after her. Following a few straps behind, he tailed Jasmine all the way to her room, and slipped inside quietly after her.
“Is there something you want to talk about?” Jasmine asked, closing the door behind the two of them and turning to face Mammon.
“Y-yea. It’s, uh. It’s about our pact,” Mammon began. Intrigued, Jasmine tilted her head slightly to show that she was listening. “It’s about our deal.”
“Me not making you do anything with our pact,” Jasmine recounted.
“Yea, that. So, I, uh… I’d like to take it back,” he finally stammered out.
“Pardon? Why?” Jasmine questioned, confused.
“It's nothin’ bad, I swear!” he reassured, seeing her slightly worried expression. “I dunno if you’ve read about this yet in that big book Satan gave ya, but pact orders, or just usin’ pacts in general, can be seen as a sign of closeness,” he explained quickly. “And I, um. I wanted to tell ya that I trust ya enough. You can use my pact, if ya want to.”
“You’re… not worried I’ll do something bad with it?” Jasmine asked, genuinely curious.
“Nah. You seem too carin’ for that,” he replied, shaking his head. “That’s part of the reason why I wanted to do this,” Mammon admitted. “I think that even if you used our pact for somethin’ I didn’t like… it’d prob’ly be for my own good, anyway.”
“What made you change your mind?” she inquired. Mammon had seemed so used to things being expected from him constantly, and she wanted to make sure he was certain about this before she took him up on his offer.
“You agreed to talk to someone who wanted— wants nothin’ but to kill ya. For our sake,” Mammon stated, voice solemn, and yet carrying a hint of incredulity. “Lucifer told us. He told me even more than what he said to the rest of ‘em. I’m pretty sure they all respect ya a lil more for it,” he revealed, gazing off into the distance contemplatingly.
“Are you sure?” Jasmine checked again. “I just… I want to know why you want me to be able to actually order you around, I guess.”
“Didn’t’cha read about that already? For demons, pacts can be a form of thanks, or simply an expression of closeness or care,” he elaborated. “And for pact orders… they strengthen the magical bond that the pact relies on. The more ya use it, the stronger it gets, and the easier it is t’use it the next time.”
“So, is this your way of saying you want to be better friends, Mammon?” she teased, smirking at the demon knowingly.
“H-hey! I never said all that!” he backpedaled, face red. “Let’s get ya used to it first, human! I’ll allow you to try and put a pact order on me that I’ll face to follow for an extended time,” Mammon proposed, avoiding eye contact with Jasmine.
“I don’t mind. Just… on one condition,” she decided, watching as Mammon grew shocked.
“Tch, fine. What is it, human?” he grumbled, arms crossed over his chest.
“First of all, stop with all of that ‘human’ crap. On the same note, don’t keep denying that you care about me, unless you genuinely don’t,” she requested. “If you really want to show me that you care, then don’t actively say the opposite. I tend to take people literally, Mammon.”
“...fine,” he acquiesced. “I’ll try, but I ain't promisin’ nothin’!”
“I appreciate it. Effort is all I ask for,” Jasmine thanked.
“So, try and choose somethin’ to make me do. Before everyone else comes back,” Mammon prompted.
“Mhm. How about something easy, then?” Jasmine pondered for a few moments, before settling on something she liked. “Stop calling me ‘human’,” she ordered, feeling the sensation she was beginning to associate with Mammon’s magic run through her. Once she said the order, however, she could see Mammon’s shoulders lose some of their tension.
“Really? Yea, I can do that, no problem,” he smirked.
“You expected me to do something worse, didn’t you.”
“I–” he stiffened again, not expecting to be called out. “...I’m glad ya didn’t. I’m still gettin’ used to this too, y’know.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, thinking about what he was going to say next. “I ain’t lyin’, though. Feel free to use an order on me.”
“You’re trying to prove that I won’t hurt you by giving me the opportunity to,” she pointed out again, eyes full of melancholy.
“What are ya, some therapist?” Mammon mumbled, turning his face away from her and closing his eyes. “But really. I’m tryin’ to trust ya. So… don’t make me lose that trust, yea?”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Jasmine promised, stepping forward and hugging Mammon tightly. He startled at first, but then, slowly, hugged her back just as tightly. After a few seconds, he let go of her and straightened out his white sleep shirt once more.
“Levi ‘n Beel are here,” he murmured, tossing himself onto her bed and sprawling out on top of it. As if on cue, a knock came from her door, and after Jasmine’s permission, the other two demons came in. Levi and Beel were now both in pajamas, and Beel was carrying more snacks, probably to avoid going on a fridge raid at strange hours of the night like she heard him doing occasionally.
“We’ve arriiiiived,” Levi announced, plopping down onto the floor with a pile of blankets in hand, spreading them out. There were already several rugs on the floor, but they weren’t very soft, so she understood the sentiment. Also, blankets were always more comfortable.
“I’ll just join y'all on the floor,” she said, yawning.
“To sleep? Are ya insane?” Mammon asked, sitting up from where he was laying on her bed. “We’re all gonna be takin’ the floor, and you’re gonna sleep on your bed,” he said firmly.
“We’re demons, we’ll live,” Beel added, nodding. “You should get some rest.”
“I probably should, shouldn’t I,” Jasmine sighed, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “Goodnight, y’all,” she called out, slipping into bed, and all three of the men beneath her echoed back varied responses. Soon afterward, the room fell into a stillness that only occurred when most people were asleep during the dead of night. The barely-there lights of the lanterns above her provided Jasmine with something to look at, but she grew bored of it after some time. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but for some reason, she couldn’t sleep.
“Jasmine,” she heard whispered from somewhere lower in the room. Propping herself up, she looked down and met the purple eyes of Beel staring up at her.
“What’s up?” she asked softly, rubbing some of the fatigue from her eyes.
“I wanted to say thank you,” he replied, shifting closer and leaning his head on the side of her bed. “For trying to help my twin. And for helping me, too.”
“Aw, thank you, Beel,” Jasmine smiled, rolling over and reaching down to ruffle his hair. “I can’t promise Belphegor is gonna agree to their terms, though,” she pointed out, not wanting to raise Beelzebub’s hopes.
“I know,” Beel sighed. “But I appreciate the fact that you’re willing to try, at least.”
“Honestly? I don’t know why what I’m doing is so special,” she admitted, running her hand through the soft fabric of one of the blankets next to her. “It just feels like I’m doing what anyone else would do. It’s pretty normal to not want someone to be in jail forever.”
“You think so, but it is special,” he countered, voice still low to avoid waking the others. “Most people would panic as soon as they found out someone wanted them dead. You’re willing to tie yourself to them forever just to make sure they can go back to their family.”
“Pacts seem… more beneficial to the human than to the demon,” she muttered.
“The ones you’ve made so far, yeah. It’s just an agreement. You could also make an agreement to give a demon your soul in return for a pact,” he explained. “It just depends on what the pact is for.”
Jasmine hummed, thinking it over. She knew all of this, now, but she still wasn’t used to the rules of this world she found herself in. It would be a while before she would really understand them, she thought.
“That’s why…” Beel began again, making Jasmine’s eyes flick back to him immediately. “That’s why I wanted to offer you my pact.”
“It hasn't even been a week,” she laughed, a bit incredulously. “And you think it’s a good idea for me to have three pacts already?”
“Mhm,” he nodded, smiling. “You’re human, so the more pacts you have, the safer you are. At least once you can use them.”
“Sure, then,” Jasmine agreed, sitting up straighter. “I’ll try and learn how to use them. Thank you, Beel, I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, no worries. And you can use pact commands on me whenever,” he added. Even when constantly monotone, Beelzebub always came off as kind and gentle as soon as she got to know him a little more. Holding out his hand, Jasmine took it quickly, waiting for him to initiate the pact spell.
“Do all demons know the spell to make a pact?” she asked, curious.
“I think so,” he replied. “It’s a pretty simple chant.” Sensing Jasmine’s hesitation, he waited until she had calmed down slightly before squeezing her hand gently in his large, calloused one. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she smiled, locking eyes with the orange-haired man before her.
⏳ synopsis: Jasmine checks in on Beel, and goes to ask Satan for help in finding something. Belphegor's grief hatred is only growing stronger.
⏳ word count: ~4400
It was Sunday, and for once, the house was full of noise. No one was at school, meaning everyone was at home for a late breakfast, and the smells of bacon and some kinds of baked goods spread through the house. Still in her sleep clothes, Jasmine walked toward the dining room, passing through the kitchen. Lucifer and Asmodeus were making breakfast, with the former readying coffee and the last of the food, and the latter plating everything delicately, careful not to dirty his hands.
“Jasmine! You’re finally up,” Asmodeus called out, smiling at her charmingly. He stopped suddenly, and looked directly toward her exposed forearm as his smile turned cheeky. “Go sit down, hon, breakfast will be ready in just a sec!” She was glad he decided not to make a big deal out of her new pact with Leviathan; it was much too early for her to deal with people. Looking at the clock to check the time, she saw that… it was eleven in the morning. Whatever, she was tired, and Lucifer appeared to share the same sentiment. Turning slightly in Jasmine’s direction, Lucifer ran a hand over his face, almost trying to wipe the sleep from himself.
“Good morning,” Lucifer greeted, voice rough. This was the most un-composed Jasmine had seen him yet, even if he was fully dressed and awake. He seemed even more tired than when she had had to wake him up in his study, probably losing sleep over Belphegor again.
“Morning,” she replied, her own voice soft and still a bit groggy. She wasn’t half asleep, but she also didn’t exactly wake up with the energy to be just as cheery as Asmodeus seemed. Walking past them into the dining hall, she was met with a chorus of greetings from her two pactmates, as well as Beelzebub, whose words were muffled by food from a plate he had apparently sneaked from the kitchen. Satan lifted his head to see her, and his eyes widened as they flitted around her body until they settled on the pact mark on her left forearm.
“I see you’ve made yet another pact,” Satan noted. “Congratulations,” he smiled politely, looking almost impressed with her.
“Thank you?” she replied, taking her usual seat across from Beelzebub. Once she did so, Lucifer exited the kitchen, carrying several plates of food. Asmo followed close behind, but he wasn’t carrying anything, inspecting his nails instead.
“Ugh, Lucifer, I chipped one!” Asmodeus exclaimed, falling onto Lucifer's side dramatically, making the eldest have to readjust what he was carrying quickly so as to not drop it. Shooting Asmo a weak glare, Lucifer set everything down onto the table and made his way to his own seat.
“You can redo them later tonight, Asmo,” he sighed, sitting down and beginning to put food onto his plate. “If you’d like, you should be able to do everyone else’s as well.”
“Oh, right! Today’s game night!” Asmo gasped, sitting down as well.
“Game night?” Jasmine repeated questioningly.
“Oh yea, I guess you wouldn't know, lol,” Leviathan remarked.
“It’s jus’ when we all get together an’ hang out,” Mammon explained. “I keep askin’ to watch a movie, but no one ever wants to!” he complained.
“Yea, that’s because we actually want to talk to each other for once, you idiot!” Asmodeus clipped back.
“HEY! I ain’t dumb!” Mammon yelled, “Y’all are the ones who don’t wanna witness the best movie of all time!”
“We are the ones who don’t want to rewatch Harry Potter for the hundredth time,” Satan argued, opening a book and beginning to eat.
“You should join, Jasmine!” Asmo chirped brightly. “I can paint your nails for you, if you’d let me,” he proposed.
“Sure, I’d love to,” Jasmine agreed.
“Yes!” Asmo replied ecstatically. “Oh, there’s so many color options— I wonder what would suit the undertones of your skin tone the best,” he gushed, continuing while taking small bites of his food. Jasmine grabbed some food as well, smiling. She was finally wanted somewhere, even if it was just because she was new.
After breakfast ended, Jasmine followed Beelzebub from the dining room and into the hallway.
“Hey, Beel?” she called out.
“Yea, what’s up?” he asked, pausing on his way to his room.
“I just wanted to ask you how you’re doing,” Jasmine explained, watching his expression turn a bit more downcast.
“Let’s talk in my room,” he told her, beginning to walk again. Beel was fast, even when he wasn’t trying to be, and Jasmine had to walk quickly to keep pace with him. They went downstairs, and eventually reached what appeared to be Beel’s room. Entering, however, it was clear that the space was made for two people, not one.
Everything was split down the middle— the left and the right side having two entirely opposite yet complementary themes. The left side appeared to be more reminiscent of Beelzebub, the walls a reddish orange color, and painted on one wall was a metallic-gold sun design that stood out behind the red plush headboard of his bed. The other side was an obvious tribute to his twin’s color scheme instead, with purple walls and a matching golden design behind the headboard, this one a crescent moon with a star filling the empty space. Both the sun and moon were framed by or parts of a large golden circle, one for each twin, providing a look of cohesion and purposeful planning. A large, intricate rug— the type that seemed to appear in almost every wealthy home— covered most of the floor, its colors also containing purple, red, and gold. One of the most noticeable parts of the room, however, was the spiral staircase in the very back that seemed to lead to an upper level of the room that was entirely empty, save for a gold metal railing preventing anyone on that level from falling down into the main room. A beautiful cascade of strings of crystals hung down from the ceiling in the center of the room, as well as a few miniature transparent umbrellas, mimicking the appearance of rain. The crystals caught the lamp light, making small glimmers of light refract onto everything in the room, and giving the ceiling the appearance of having stars.
“Here, you can sit down,” Beel offered, patting a spot on his own bed near where he sat down.
“Thank you,” Jasmine replied, perching herself on the very edge of the bed.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” he prompted.
“I wanted to ask how you were doing,” she began, bracing one leg on the floor to stop herself from slipping off of the bed. It felt strange for her to take up any more space than absolutely necessary, especially in an environment that wasn’t hers. “With the Belphegor thing, and how he’s in prison now.”
“I’m… upset,” Beel stated, his expression not dissimilar to the same one Jasmine had seen on Belphegor when they’d met— a kicked puppy. Beel’s, however, seemed genuine. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping. I can feel how upset he is, too, now. At Lucifer more than anything, but… you as well,” he revealed.
“You can feel how upset he is?” Jasmine questioned.
“Yea. We’re twins, so I can feel a lot of what he feels,” he explained, smiling briefly before returning to a more solemn expression once again. “I just don’t understand, though. Why did Lucifer have to lie?” A pang of sympathy hit Jasmine in the chest, and the silence stretched painfully for a few moments before she could formulate a response. She understood both sides, to some extent; the desire to do what you think is right, to protect your family, even if that means taking some questionable means to achieve the end goal, but also the fact that certain things may not be acceptable to do, no matter what the end goal or intention is.
“I think he was just doing what he thought was right,” she finally said. “Possibilities are weird like that,” she thought out loud. “The thing is, no matter what action you take, there are always so many consequences for everything. If you really think about it, even a small microexpression could change the way someone feels, which would change the way they act later, which would affect something further on,” she continued. “I think, maybe, he just didn’t know what he could’ve done to help that wouldn't end poorly, so he chose the first thing that came to mind.”
“You’re probably right,” Beel admitted. “It just… hurts. And I think Belphie holds too much of a grudge to understand that Lucifer meant well.”
“I get that, trust me,” Jasmine sighed. “I guess there isn’t much to do but hope he can come to understand, eventually.”
“I really hope so. I wish I could visit him,” he said quietly, his melancholy, gentle tone of voice a sharp contrast to the hulking figure he sported, even sitting down like he was then.
“You might be able to soon,” Jasmine told him. “They want me to talk to him, and then they’ll see if you guys can visit him.”
“Really?” Beel asked, his eyes lighting up in hope.
“Why don’t you ask Lucifer, or Diavolo and Barbatos?” she proposed. “They might be able to tell you some more concrete information than me.”
“I will, thanks,” he nodded, now seemingly more at ease than before.
“And if you’re having trouble sleeping,” Jasmine began, mulling the idea she had over in her head. “Maybe you can sleep in my room. You’re welcome any time, as long as you knock,” she offered. Beelzebub’s eyes widened, and suddenly, she could see tears welling up in them, which he wiped away with the back of his hand before they could form fully.
“I… I might do that. Thank you, Jasmine,” he smiled, his frank, matter-of-fact way of speaking making everything he said feel more genuine and heartfelt.
“Would you like a hug, big guy?” Jasmine asked, not being able to resist the urge to comfort the giant teddy bear of a man in front of her. Almost immediately, she felt herself being swept up into a strong embrace, pulled further onto the bed and closer to the orange haired man. His strong arms held her in place, but he was being purposefully careful with his movements and force, like he was trying not to hurt her. Wrapping her arms around him in return, she rubbed her palm in a repeating line across his back.
“Is this okay?” Beel checked, angling his head in a way so that his ear was free to hear her.
“Yep,” she confirmed, squeezing a bit tighter for just a second to reassure him. “You can hug me or whatever whenever you want,” she told him, “As long as you ask me first, I don't mind.” She felt Beel nod gravely into her shoulder before releasing her slowly.
“Thank you,” he smiled gratefully. “I’ll let you go now, sorry.” He stood up from the bed, fixing the blanket slightly after Jasmine stood up as well.
“It’s no problem! I’ll see you around?” Jasmine asked, trying to fix her hair without any real effort.
“Mhm,” Beel responded, much happier than he’d been earlier that morning. His stomach grumbled loudly, and he blushed, putting a hand onto the back of his neck. “I’m gonna go get some food,” he muttered, exiting the bedroom with Jasmine and starting in the direction of the upstairs.
Wondering what she should do next, she recalled Barbatos’ advice from the day before— to find some books on the topics she was interested in for a more in-depth understanding. As much as he was able to explain to her on his own, he mentioned that there was a plethora of further information she would likely appreciate learning. It was unlikely she would be able to find anything of use in the library, as she had no idea where to even begin. Could someone else help her?
Remembering the blonde bookworm, the same person who spent every meal and moment of free time nose-deep in a book of some kind, she decided he would be the perfect candidate to seek out. She wasn’t sure where his room was, however. Making her way to Leviathan’s room instead, which was on the same floor she was currently on, she opened the door slightly and peeked her head in.
“Levi!” she yelled, ensuring the purple-haired man would be able to hear her through his headphones.
“AH!” he shouted, jerking back in his gaming chair, and whipping the headphones off of his ears. “What?! Jeez, you scared me, you normie!” He gripped his chest, as if he was trying to still his own heart dramatically.
“I wanted to ask where Satan’s room was,” she explained.
“Upstairs, it’s like right above the library,” he supplied, moving his bags up so they didn’t obscure his vision. “Can I go now? I was in the middle of a fight!” he complained, the faint red glow of the death screen on his computer making everything hit by the light seem purple, mixing with the blue of the room.
“Yea, sure. Sorry about that!” Jasmine apologized, waving goodbye.
“Sure you are,” he rolled his eyes, pushing his bangs up into the rest of his hair and putting his headphones back on to hold them that way. “Anyway, bye,” he called out, giving her a small wave in return as she closed the door.
Walking quickly up the several flights of stairs to the second floor, she went in the direction Levi had told her to— right above the library. She found a bedroom door, and unlike what she had done to Leviathan, she knocked and waited for a response.
Putting her ear closer to the door, Jasmine could just barely make out the sound of a long-suffering sigh before a book was snapped shut. A few seconds of rustling later, there were footsteps approaching the door.
“What?” Satan deadpanned, leaning against the door with his forearm as he opened it.
“I was going to ask if you could help me find a couple of books,” Jasmine said, her eyes full of humor in spite of the cranky demon standing before her.
“Oh? I can try and help with that,” Satan agreed, now a lot more interested than he had been previously, with one eyebrow raised and his head tilted to show that he was listening. “What are you looking for?” he probed.
“I wanted to find some more information on pacts,” Jasmine clarified as Satan’s expression shifted into one of intrigue.
“Pacts? You’ve already made two with my brothers; are you aiming for the full set?” he teased. Opening the door further, he gestured for her to come inside. “You know, your recent pact-making has really been aggravating Lucifer,” he remarked, smile turning sharp. “And if it pisses Lucifer off, then I’m a fan.”
“Why is he upset?” Jasmine questioned, concerned. She wasn’t close with Lucifer, necessarily, but she did care about him somewhat.
“He’s overprotective, in case you haven't noticed,” Satan huffed. “He feels like you’re up to no good, and that it’ll be a safety risk if you have too many pacts,” he explained, shutting the door firmly behind them.
“And you’re just going to help me?” she asked flatly.
“Not exactly,” he shook his head. “If you want to make pacts, you can do that yourself. But I can do what needs to be done to inform you about what you’re getting yourself into.” Seeing Jasmine take an unsteady step around a pile of books on the ground, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t touch that. Or anything else in here, for that matter,” he clipped, voice taking on a warning tone. “There are cursed books in here. If you touch one, there's a chance something you won’t like will happen.”
“Noted,” she acknowledged, looking around. The room was mostly swamped with piles upon piles of precariously-stacked books, littering the ground and every available inch of space. Some books were even floating mid air, open or rifling through pages seemingly on their own, and they spun around slowly, moving throughout the room. Following the trail of floating books upward, Jasmine could see that there was a second level of the room that was in a very similar state, led to by a spiral staircase. The room was rather dark, only illuminated by a few candelabras in the far wall, as well as some loose candles placed sporadically atop the piles of books. Large, arched windows were in between the candelabras, but as there was no sun in the devildom, they provided very little in terms of brightness. No, that wasn’t quite right. The moon outside was so unnaturally bright that its rays covered everything in a cool, silvery light. One of the few spaces free of books was a bed and an armchair, both of which seemed remarkably tidy in comparison to their surroundings. Turning her attention to the man whose room she was in, Jasmine saw him walking around the room with an almost methodical precision, occasionally picking up a book from a pile or shelf and placing it onto the ever-growing stack he was making on his left arm. Eventually, he returned, and placed them all onto the table in the corner of the room with a dull thud.
“Here’s a few,” Satan told her, looking around the room once more. “That’s not all of them, but it should be a good start,” he smiled, nodding.
“Satan, there’re like ten giant tomes there?!?” Jasmine replied incredulously.
“If you get on it, you should be able to get through them in a few days,” he reasoned, smirking. Seeing her unamused expression, he relented, sighing and rolling his eyes. “Fine, I’ll narrow them down, just tell me what you’re looking for in particular.”
“I want something that can tell me how I can use them,” she explained, “As well as maybe some of their logistics.”
“Hm, I remember that this one mentions the magical bond between human and demon in a more emotional sense, while this one prefers…" he trailed off, muttering to himself while sorting through the pile, flicking through some of the books and immediately setting aside others. Jasmine watched as the number slowly dwindled, until he finally chose one and looked up, handing it to her. “Here. It’s a great overview of all the things you might want to know, especially at a more introductory level.”
“Thank you,” she chirped, taking the heavy, leatherbound tome and tucking it under one arm. “That’s all I needed. Sorry, I’ll let you get back to reading,” she apologized.
“You’re welcome. If you need a book again, feel free to come to me,” he offered.
“No wonder Barbatos told me to ask you of all people,” she commented, laughing under her breath.
“Barbatos?” he questioned. “Ah, right, he’s meant to tutor you now,” he recalled. “I’m flattered that he chose me to find what you needed, but…” A look of trepidation flashed across his face. “It’s unusual for a demon of his caliber to be helping humans.”
“Are you telling me not to trust him?”
“No, not at all, Barbatos is known for having extremely good self control. He’s certainly reliable,” he remarked. “It's just a bit strange, I suppose. He’s typically unreachable outside of matters pertaining to Lord Diavolo.”
“He seems friendly, from what I’ve seen,” Jasmine thought back to her previous encounters with the green-haired man.
“That’s good. Now, go on. I believe you have some reading to get to before game night tonight?” he urged, walking her to the door and opening it.
“Yea, yea, I’ll get out of your hair now. Thank you again,” she smiled and turned to walk back downstairs to her room. Hearing the door close behind her, she took another cursory glance at the book she was carrying before setting off again.
Arriving at her room, she set the tome down onto her table and sat down to inspect it. It was several inches thick, and its weight reflected it— she could feel her arms tire while holding it for the few minutes it took until she could set it down. The deep-colored brown leather of the cover was soft and shiny, reflecting some of the light in her room. It was otherwise unremarkable, but Jasmine felt rather drawn to the old, mysterious feeling it gave off. Opening it, she saw the pages were full of small, printed text as well as diagrams and charts taking up every inch of free space. How Satan expected her to read this all in just a few days was a mystery to Jasmine. In any case, she took a moment to steady her mind, and then dived into the book from the very beginning.
Several hours later, she surfaced from the depths of reading once more. It was safe to say that Satan was, in fact, a great help— the book was invaluable in terms of helpfulness. She found a lot about different types of demons, and how their magic may affect their pact holders. Each sin would be felt by the demon it corresponded to, and extreme emotions would also carry over through the strings of the pact, if the string was strong enough. She felt curiosity run through her. Had the string she saw last time shifted into something else? Imagining the magical pathway to her pactmate she’d seen with Solomon during their lesson, she closed her eyes and focused.
Slowly, she found her way to that same place of emptiness, where there were now two strings instead of just one. Mammon and Leviathan, she thought, looking at the one golden and one orange line in front of her. They weren’t as wispy as the first time she had tried to access this space— now, although they weren’t very thick or sturdy, they were mostly opaque. She almost felt like she could reach out and touch them. Before she could dissuade herself, she did exactly that, imaginary fingers ghosting over the floating line that led in Mammon’s direction. As soon as she did, however, it glowed slightly, and she moved her hand back, surprised. Suddenly, a knock could be heard from her door, fast and loose, like someone impatiently rapping their knuckles on a hard surface.
“Come in!” she called, blinking her eyes open once more.
Mammon’s head peaked into the room, looking at her strangely. “Did ya’ need somethin’?” he asked, hands in his pockets.
“No…? Why?” she questioned, shooting Mammon a confused look.
“Ya’ called on our pact, human,” he explained, huffing out a laugh and running a hand through his fluffy hair. “It’s usually to call me over to ya’.”
“Oh! No, I’m sorry,” Jasmine apologized, laughing as well. “I was doing some reading, and remembered the strings of the pacts that Solomon showed me before. I just… wanted to see what would happen if I touched it.”
“You touch one of those things, and it shoots a lil’ message to the demon it corresponds to of whatever you’re feelin’, or whatever you wanted to tell ‘em,” he told her, leaning against the door to her room and pointing a finger gun at the ceiling for emphasis. “Pull it hard enough, and it’ll summon ‘em. I wouldn’t suggest doin’ that, though, it can be dangerous if ya ain’t used to magic ‘n crap," he warned, but his voice maintained the same cheery, lighthearted tone he had when he was relaxed.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Jasmine replied, smiling a bit bashfully. “I really didn’t mean to bother you, though. You can go if you’d like, I won't keep you.”
“Sure,” Mammon shrugged, “It’s no problem. You’re lucky I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ important, though!”
“Of course, how could I ever distract ‘The Great Mammon' from his very important duties,” she teased, watching as Mammon blushed, embarrassed.
“Exactly! See, ya’ get it!” he exclaimed, standing straight up again and putting one hand on the doorknob. “Anyway, I’ma go get rich!”
“I— what?” Jasmine questioned, baffled.
“Bettin’, baby! Horse number one’s gonna help me win big!” he yelled, closing Jasmine's door and running back down the hallway, now excited.
“Good luck,” she muttered, now mostly to herself, and returned to her reading with a bewildered smile on her face.
____________
Belphegor was pissed. He missed his twin, he missed dealing with his annoying brothers, he missed stargazing, and he missed his sister. And it was all humans’ fault. If it weren’t for humans, there would be no exchange program, and Lucifer would’ve prioritized Diavolo over his own brother and locked him away. If it weren’t for humans, he wouldn’t be able to feel his twin’s grief over his absence. If it weren't for humans, he would still…
He would still have a sister.
He couldn't just forgive them, how could he? And how could the rest of them? Everyone but him seemed to just forget that her death was the humans’ fault!
He couldn’t forget.
His domain was dreams, sleep, unconsciousness, and yet not even he could escape the crushing weight of the memories he saw every time he closed his eyes.
Was that why he wanted to sleep so very badly?
The stone wall of the cell he was in pressed in against his back, but he could barely feel it. The overwhelming curtain of nothingness his sin always dragged him under made it so he could feel nothing but the tug of sleep on his conscience, eyes already long closed.
Sleeping let him see her. It let him see them, before the fall, back in a time when everyone was happy.
So he would sleep. And when he woke up, and was forced to remember that none of that was reality, he would go back to sleep again and pretend everything was alright.
And as soon as he got the chance, he would make that human pay for what their race had done. And then, everything would go back to being normal. Lucifer and Diavolo would realize that ‘peace’ with the humans was one big pipedream, his twin would be by his side, his brothers and him would be happy, and most importantly of all, her death would be avenged.
⏳ synopsis: Levi, apparently, also wants to make a pact with Jasmine. Jasmine has to attend tutoring once more, but this time, it's with Barbatos.
⏳ word count: ~4900
It turned out, Leviathan wasn’t just an anime nerd— he was also very good at games. Freakishly good. Jasmine wondered just how much practice he had to reach the level he was at, and whether it was more than her entire lifespan. His prowess was evident, now, as the screen in front of the trio glowed, illuminating the room with the record of their wins and losses: Leviathan, 8 wins; Mammon, 2 wins; and Jasmine, a whopping 1 win. That one win wasn’t entirely in good faith, either, as she had only obtained it by poking the aquatic demon when she was right behind him in game, causing him to fumble, and allowing her to take over.
She knew that Levi was an aquatic demon now, Jasmine pondered, and that Mammon was a more agile, flying demon. She’d only found out because in the two demons’ anger at losing, they’d shifted into their demon forms, horns and other unnatural features on display. Seeing Jasmine’s shock, they apologized immediately, and regained their human forms quickly. After her reassurance, however, as well as her many questions about their other form’s functionality, they finally relented and stayed in their demon forms.
Now that the game of knock-off Mario Kart was over, they were all sprawled out on the floor near the TV, eating the snacks Mammon had gotten from the kitchen. Mammon laid on his stomach, so as to allow his wings freedom to move, and had a separate bowl of jalapeno poppers set in front of him that both Levi and Jasmine found too spicy for their tastes. The other two were half-lying down, propped up by pillows and blankets Levi had pulled out from somewhere in his room earlier, and shared a veggie pizza.
The entire situation was unusual to Jasmine— she wasn’t used to being invited anywhere, much less included so genuinely. Apparently, however, Lucifer had finally breached the topic of Belphegor with his brothers. After what Mammon described as a rather tense explanation, Lucifer had allowed Satan to go off on him for several minutes, until the fourth-born had calmed down somewhat. The rest of the brothers had their own questions, but they all inevitably departed— most of them in groups as to not be alone after such a stressful meeting. Mammon and Leviathan, evidently, were one of those groups. As much as Mammon wanted to deny it, it was mostly his idea to invite Jasmine to be with them, although Leviathan didn’t contest the notion either.
Now, the two demons next to her were proposing they spend the night right where they were, together, and Jasmine found that she had no qualms with the idea. Turning off the TV, Levi got up to stretch, and his tail curled behind him— thick, yet still controlled, and the blue light of the room bounced off of his scales, making them appear almost sparkling— not dissimilar to a snake.
“Hey,” Jasmine began, her voice uncertain, “What do you guys think about the whole situation with Belphegor?” Two sets of eyes immediately snapped toward her— not predatory, but attentive, as if what she said had caught their attention.
“Well, he’s still our brother an’ all,” Mammon responded, rubbing the back of his neck. “We ain’t gonna give up on him.”
“Even still, he was planning on causing some real damage,” Leviathan argued, but there was no real heat behind his words, evidently knowing his brother already agreed with him on the matter. “He shouldn't get away without any punishment, but… I hope he’ll be okay.”
“There ain’t no excusin’ the fact that he wanted to kill Jas,” Mammon sighed, leaning back on one arm and running his fingers through his hair— a habit Jasmine had noticed he does quite often when he was uneasy. “I dunno what we could do to help, though. Treason ain’t a light crime, and Diavolo and Barbatos aren’t known for bein’ forgivin’ to criminals.”
“Diavolo offered me an option that he, Barbatos, and Lucifer agreed would probably be the best,” Jasmine revealed.
“Well? Don’t keep us waitin’, human!” Mammon remarked, but his voice didn’t hold the normal energy it did when he was more awake.
“They said I might be able to enter a pact with Belphegor.”
“Another pact?!” Leviathan exclaimed incredulously. “I mean, you’d make a pact with someone who wanted to kill you before the rest of us?” he questioned.
“Can’t relate, bro,” Mammon teased as Levi shot him a withering glare.
“Why does it matter? Isn’t having a pact a disadvantage for a demon?” Jasmine asked.
“W-well kinda, but… demons also make pacts as promises, to people they care about,” Leviathan murmured shyly, his face turned away.
“So why would any of you want to make a pact with me? I mean, I know I already have one with Mammon, but I kinda forced him into it.”
“No sweat,” Mammon brushed her comment off. “You’re… a much better pactmate than most. That counts for somethin’, at least!” Jasmine suddenly remembered her past concern about Mammon’s previous pacts and deals— he always seemed to think so lightly of them, even when they caused him so much inconvenience— but decided to store it away for another day. He still hadn’t talked to her about their pact, yet.
“It’s just not fair,” Leviathan sulked, “How come Mammon got to make a pact with you, and now you’re gonna make one with Belphegor before me?!”
“Wait— first of all, Belphegor may full well not agree to make a pact with me, I’m not gonna make him, but you want to make a pact with me?” she asked, utterly confused.
“I-I… Maybe?! I know I’m just a gross otaku, but you seem nice, and you’ve been trying to help as much as you can when someone asks, and Mammon keeps telling me about how you’ve been so considerate—“
“—-Whoa, there ain’t no need to go around tellin’ secrets like that!—”
“—and I'm just so jealous that you already have a pact but I’m not good enough for you to want a pact with—“
“Levi, breathe,” Jasmine instructed, tugging him back down onto the floor by the hand. “I would love to make pacts with all of you guys, I just… didn’t think you’d want to?” she admitted. After all, from what she’d understood so far, if a pact was offered without a return clause for the human, there was practically no disadvantage from her taking it. It was like Leviathan said earlier— they could technically just be a promise of care from a demon, in a way that leveled the playing field somewhat by granting the human power over them.
“R-really?!” Levi spluttered out. “Can I— Can we make one? Like, right now?” he asked, cheeks the bright red color she’d grown accustomed to from both him and Mammon.
“Sure,” Jasmine agreed easily. “But… are you certain you’re alright with this?” she checked, “I don’t want you to regret this later. It’s been a long day, and I’m sure you’re stressed out from the whole thing with your brother.”
“See, what’d I tell ya?” Mammon joked, earning himself a smack on the head from Leviathan. “HEY, what was that for!?”
“Yea, I-I’m sure,” Levi replied to Jasmine. “I’ve wanted to, for a bit now. I think you’re a good person, and honestly, I want to know what you could do with my pact magic!” he exclaimed. “Imagine, I could have my own Henry, or an ultra-powerful hero I can claim I helped along their journey to stardom!”
“Gettin’ off topic, bro.”
“R-right, well. Shall we?” Levi asked, holding out his hand for Jasmine to grab.
___________
Transporting a criminal was easy, if you were a demon with Barbatos’ power and magical ability. Unfortunately, the demon he had been transporting had done nothing but hiss mocking provocations to his back, and stayed catatonically silent otherwise.
Barbatos had a lot of practice being patient, however. His composed expression remained firmly in place as he walked at a brisk pace down the hallway of the dungeons, Belphegor following as far as he could behind him, Barbatos’ magic keeping him in check. Unlocking a cell and opening it, he stood to the side to allow the other demon to enter.
“You teleported us into the castle. Couldn’t you have brought me directly into my cell, or is this just another humiliation ritual of yours?” Belphegor spat.
“Nothing of the sort,” Barbatos refuted. “The cells are enchanted against magic. Now, please step inside.”
Obliging with clear displeasure, Belphegor stepped inside of the cell door swiftly, and Barbatos closed it behind him. Looking around, the sloth demon’s eyes widened briefly before he frowned, regaining his general aura of displeasure and apathy. His eyes locked onto the cow-print pillow in the room, and he picked it up gingerly, hugging it to himself with one arm. Brushing past Belphegor’s silence, Barbatos continued.
“Your brother requested you be allowed to have it,” he explained.
“Who, Beel?”
“Beel expressed his wishes for you to be comfortable, but Lucifer is the one who wanted you to have that pillow,” Barbatos explained, still calm.
“Liar,” Belphegor hissed accusingly, eyes narrowing. “Lucifer doesn’t care. If he cared, he wouldn’t have locked up his own brother when it was convenient for him.”
“Lucifer is the only reason I haven’t charged you with treason yet,” a cold voice sounded. Diavolo came into view, staring down the demon within the cell. “Without his intervention, you would already be imprisoned, and with much worse terms than this.”
“You. No wonder you made an exception for Lucifer; he’s like your little doggy, huh?” Belphegor goaded. “What about locking me up forever makes me protected, exactly?”
Taking a deep breath, Diavolo ignored the demon’s obvious provocation. “I would not have been so kind, had the human exchange student not pleaded for a less extreme punishment.”
“The human? Pfft, I guess they really are dumb,” Belphegor smirked, amused. “Someone tries to kill them, and they still want to pretend they’re better than everyone else.”
“Regardless of what you think of Jasmine’s actions, it has granted you a chance at freedom,” Diavolo continued.
“Freedom? Are you stupid, too? I hate you, and I hate the human world— and you think letting me out is a good idea,” Belphegor asked incredulously, a wild smile on his face.
“You are being offered a deal,” Barbatos intervened, granting the prince a moment to compose himself. “If you make a pact with the human exchange student, you will be allowed to live at the House of Lamentation again.”
“Make a pact. With a human,” Belphegor deadpanned. “Sorry, your highness, but I think I’d rather rot away over here.”
“It’s your decision, at the end of the day,” Diavolo shook his head. “If you behave yourself, I will see about allowing your brothers to visit you. Jasmine will be over to see you, too, but that is for your own benefit.”
“Whatever, I’m going to sleep. I can sleep for years at a time— what’s the difference between doing it here or in the house?” Belphegor muttered, plopping himself down onto one of the corners of the cell.
“Make yourself comfortable!” Diavolo said enthusiastically. “Barbatos will come down with food periodically.” Seeing he would receive no response, he turned on his heel and walked back up the hallway that led back to the ground floor.
Turning back to the demon now sitting down on the stone floor, his head against the wall, Barbatos looked at him for just a moment longer.
He hoped this wouldn’t end poorly— it would be a terrible headache if Belphegor stubbornly refused the pact. If somehow, someway, he managed to kill Jasmine, Barbatos would be the one to have to deal with the consequences.
___________
It was hard to tell what time it was, in a room that was always lit the same way. Jasmine had woken up in Levi’s room, now feeling the vague thrum of new magic somewhere on her body. Her forearm, she remembered. Thin, black markings weaved themselves into a clean design, and she could see Mammon’s on the other arm when she lifted them both up for inspection.
Checking her phone, she saw it was still pretty early in the morning. She had a few missed messages that she needed to check, however. The first one was from Lucifer.
\•/
Lucifer: I wanted to thank you for yesterday.
Lucifer: You do not have to agree to make a pact with Belphegor. No one will force you.
Lucifer: If you’re willing, however, please go and speak with him at your leisure, so long as it is within a reasonable time.
/•\
She didn’t expect a thank-you from the avatar of pride himself, of all things, as soon as she woke up that morning. It seemed like her desire to stand up for Lucifer and try to save Belphegor meant even more to him than she thought. She appreciated it a great deal, though, and made sure to send him a message conveying so. There were only notifications from one other person: Barbatos. Opening his contact, she read their contents.
\•/
Barbatos: Good morning, Jasmine.
Barbatos: Would you be willing to meet with me at the castle today at noon sharp?
Barbatos: Solomon has informed me that you may be in need of some assistance with your magic.
Barbatos: Please respond at your earliest convenience. I shall await your response.
/•\
So Solomon did end up going through with what he said. It was a shame that she wouldn’t be able to see the angels when she came over again, but she was also looking forward to speaking to Barbatos. The messages were sent at 5 in the morning— was he really up that early? He was a butler, she supposed, so he probably had enough work as it was. Remembering their previous interactions, she blushed. Compose yourself, Jasmine thought. Sure, he was attractive, but she didn’t know him, and several people already remarked on his lack of interest for anyone. She would need to be careful to try and not be too obvious, if she was going to be spending more time with him. She was looking forward to seeing Belphegor a lot less, but she supposed it was necessary. If not for her, she would do it for the brothers. They all seemed like they missed him.
\•/
Jasmine: Thank you, I appreciate the invitation.
Jasmine: I'll be there. Where would you like me to go?
/•\
That would do. Seeing he hadn’t read her message immediately, she put her phone back into her pocket. He was probably busy— she just hoped he would respond before she got to the castle.
Getting up slowly, she stretched and inspected the two others in the room with her. Levi was already awake, headphones on, absorbed into something on his computer monitors. Mammon was still asleep, sprawled across the floor, and was snoring softly. Both of their hair was tousled, and she imagined hers was too. Running a hand through her own hair, she untangled the knots that managed to develop overnight, and walked up to Leviathan.
“Hey,” she called, tapping him on the shoulder.
“Huh? Oh, what’s up?” Levi asked, pulling his headphones off of one ear.
“Just wanted to let you know I’m probably gonna head out,” she said, glancing toward the other man lying in the middle of the room. “And if you could let Mammon know I’ll be at the castle when he wakes up?”
“Yea, sure, no prob,” he replied, also looking back at his brother behind them. “He probably won't wake up for another hour, at least. Probably more.”
“Sounds about right. And, Levi?”
“Yea?”
“Thank you. For trusting me enough to make a pact.” Jasmine leaned against the desk carefully, making eye contact with the man before her.
“O-oh. Yea, you, uh. Mammon mentioned your deal, and it reminded me of how you were nice to me when we met, and it made me… jealous. Of all the pacts you were gonna go on to have. So I wanted to make one with you before anyone else could,” he admitted, now avoiding her gaze. It was incredibly sweet, actually, even if Jasmine wasn’t sure why the other demons would want to make a pact with her.
“Your sin is envy, right?” Jasmine confirmed.
“It is, why?” Levi asked.
“Do the sins of my pactmates have any effect on me?” she questioned.
“Oh, uh, kinda. I think Satan should know a bit more, if you want details. Or anyone else, really. I do know that you can feel certain things we do, though. There's a bunch of cool stuff, but I never really looked into it,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.
“That’s alright, no worries. I'll see if I can ask someone else later,” Jasmine reassured. “Anyway, see you!” she called quietly, as to not wake Mammon, stepping out of the door with a small wave.
Walking back upstairs to her room, she settled in on her own bed. She could’ve stayed with Levi and Mammon, technically, but she didn’t want to intrude. Opening up her messages, she decided to look through some of the others’ group chats. Nothing important, but she did find the conversation Levi was referring to between him and Mammon about their pact. Some of the other brothers’ banter was amusing to see as well, and she felt a gentle smile tug on her lips as she skimmed through it, passing the time. Asmo and Solomon gossiping about some demon at RAD, and Satan and Beel planning a lunch out at some food truck, the casual domesticity of it all made her heart swell. She hoped that during her time there, maybe she could become a little more of a part of the family.
Eventually, however, it was time to head out. Getting dressed for going out— especially since she was going to be seeing the royal butler, a demon who apparently held great power— she made herself presentable and headed out. On her way there, Barbatos finally responded.
\•/
Barbatos: Do not concern yourself with finding the correct location to go to, as it is your first time heading over for this purpose.
Barbatos: I will greet you once you arrive.
/•\
That was a relief— she was worried she would get lost wandering the seemingly endless hallways of the castle. Sending back a brief thank you, she continued on her way, and eventually reached the Demon Lord’s Castle. As she came near the doors, however, they opened themselves once again, just like how they did when she was there with Lucifer. A magic trick Barbatos was capable of, she remembered him telling her. Sure enough, as soon as she came in, the doors closed swiftly behind her, and Barbatos appeared to greet her.
“Welcome, Jasmine. Please, follow me,” he instructed. “I’ve prepared some tea, which we can drink while discussing some things, if you are amenable to the idea.”
“That seems just fine, thank you,” she agreed, and walked close behind him down a few halls into what appeared to be a sitting room. This one was different from the one she had been in with Diavolo and Lucifer, containing dark green and brown themes that had sparse golden highlights, rather than the royal red and gold that the rest of the castle seemed to be dominated by. A tea set was already set up on the table, still steaming hot as the two of them approached. Pulling out her chair, Barbatos waited for her to sit down before settling into the chair opposite Jasmine.
“Is there anything in particular that you wanted to talk to me about?” Jasmine asked, watching as Barbatos poured tea expertly into two cups, the stream of steaming liquid almost a foot in length from the cup to the teapot, and yet not a drop was spilled.
“Somewhat, but rather on the contrary,” Barbatos replied. “I wanted to answer any questions you may have, before we jump into practical magic.”
“Oh,” Jasmine said, thinking. “That’s probably a good idea, huh?”
“That would be why I’m doing it, yes,” Barbatos teased, but not unkindly. “How many sugars do you take?” he asked, preparing her tea.
“Three,” she answered. “I can make it myself, really, it’s no trouble—”
“Please, allow me,” he intervened. “It is my job, after all.” Sitting back, still somewhat uncomfortable, Jasmine watched him stir in the sugar, the spoon not making a sound. Setting her cup and saucer in front of her, Barbatos continued. “Feel free to ask me any questions you have. I cannot promise I will answer them, but I will do my best.” He quickly wiped the spoon off with a small, white cloth near the edge of the table and set it down. Jasmine couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t add anything to his own tea.
“Do you not like sugar?”
“Pardon?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting slightly. He was still perfectly composed, with his face only shifting minutely to express necessary emotion.
“You didn’t put anything into your tea,” she explained. Barbatos smiled politely, and seemed almost a bit impressed for a moment for responding.
“You would be correct, I did not. Not because I don’t like sweets, but simply because I feel that the flavor of this tea specifically is best enjoyed without anything additional,” he replied.
“Are you a tea connoisseur, then?” Jasmine joked.
“Something of the sort, I suppose,” he hummed, closing his eyes briefly while taking a sip of his drink. “Please, try it. I assure you it isn’t poisoned— if I aimed to kill you, I wouldn’t have spent so much time doing so,” he quipped, smiling kindly. “I am a rather busy demon, after all.”
Obliging him, she took a sip. She believed him, obviously— she had already had his tea before, and she knew he was infamous for it. The tea was fresh, slightly floral, making Jasmine think of new beginnings, and bringing a sense of comfort. It was strangely familiar, especially the smell, unlike the tea she’d had at the previous meeting she attended at the castle. It was jasmine, she realized, which made sense— she had seen Barbatos at the stall at the market which had sold this exact kind of tea.
“It’s good,” she complemented. “Thank you. Is this jasmine tea?” she asked, curious to prove her suspicions.
“It is,” he confirmed. “I bought a small bag of it at the same time you did.”
“That was kind of you, but you really didn’t have to. I just got lost on the way home, anyway,” she recalled.
“Please, do not concern yourself with such matters. It did not affect me negatively in the least,” he refuted, taking another sip of his drink. “Now, do you have any… on-topic questions?” he teased.
“Yea, I was actually wondering something earlier,” she began. “What do pacts do, really? The only explanation I really got was a brief overview from Leviathan.”
“I do believe I can be of help there. Is there anything in particular you would like to know?” he asked, patiently waiting for an answer as Jasmine thought for a moment.
“I know I can use the magic of my pactmates, but are there any side effects to that?” she questioned. Tilting his head in thought, Barbatos raised a hand to his chin inquisitively.
“A good question to ask,” he praised. “It is always important to know what consequences and loopholes things have.” He readjusted the plate his cup was on slightly, aligning the teal sections spreading from the center with the ones on the bottom of the teacup. “Using your pacts, as well as any other form of magic, may exhaust you over time. I believe you’ve already experienced this, correct?”
“Yes, with Solomon,” she confirmed, recalling the occurrence.
“That accident is precisely why I’ve decided to postpone any actual usage of magic for now, and simply provide you with answers to any questions you may have.”
“Will you teach me how to use magic eventually?” she asked.
“Of course. I have a feeling, however, that your aptitude for magic will do most of the work for me. You’ve already managed to use an unlocking spell, which, I must say, is not typically the first step,” he remarked, eyes showing his amusement, but his smile remained polite. “Other than that, pacts can allow you to access certain specialized magic.”
“How is that different from just… normal magic?” Jasmine inquired, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Certain spells are extremely complex to cast, or may simply be impossible for certain people. Specialized magic is a spell that a demon can cast relatively simply, that few others, or sometimes no-one else, can cast,” he explained. “A pact with that demon, however, can allow a human to use that same type of magic.”
“Do you have something like that?” Jasmine wondered.
“I do, yes. Most powerful demons have something like it. Mine would be control over time,” he revealed. Jasmine's eyes widened, and she could feel her perspective on the man sitting in front of her shifting in real time. It depended on to what extent this power went, of course, but any way to control time itself was insanely powerful. She immediately thought of Solomon, who had a pact with Barbatos.
“Does that mean Solomon can use that ability as well?” she asked, taken aback.
“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “Our pact is limited. Some magic, even if a human has a pact with a demon, is dangerously powerful to cast.” He seemed to hesitate slightly at the mention of himself, so Jasmine decided not to push.
“What do you mean by limited?”
“As you likely know, pacts are simply agreements between a human and a demon. Solomon does not have access to my magic, as per our agreement,” he elaborated. “It was a part of my terms, just like how you can set terms for what you’re willing to give to a demon in return for a pact with them.”
“So the brothers have their own versions of special magic,” she assumed. Her tea was already only a quarter full, and Barbatos refilled it without pause, the same unbroken stream of hot tea as the previous time leading from the teapot to her cup.
“Correct,” he confirmed. “Would you like some examples?”
“Please,” she said, shifting her full attention to him while waiting for the tea to cool a bit more.
“Very well. I noticed that you have made a pact with Leviathan,” he began. “You likely saw that he is an aquatic demon. As such, he is able to breathe underwater, but can also cast a spell to extend that effect to others.”
Jasmine imagined such a thing, recalling the giant fish tank in Levi’s room. Would it be possible to breathe underwater otherwise? Could she try to do that, if she used his pact? Seeing her expression, Barbatos seemed to assume what her confusion was about.
“You could, eventually, and with proper training, do so as well. Your pacts so far have no limiting conditions,” he told her, smiling in the amused way an expert may look at someone trying to do something for the first time— not unkind, but somewhat encouraging, occasionally trying to help them where possible. “Something you may also want to know is that Belphegor possesses the ability to control dreams, as well as put people to sleep,” he finished.
“That seems a bit… overpowered. I thought he was the weakest of the brothers?” Jasmine questioned.
“He is,” Barbatos nodded. “In comparison with his brothers, he lacks greatly in terms of raw power, and dream manipulation cannot cause much physical harm. What he lacks in strength, however, he tries to make up for in cunning, as well as his ability to manipulate others,” he explained, pushing his empty teacup slightly away from himself.
“So that’s why I saw him in my sleep,” Jasmine realized.
“Yes,” Barbatos affirmed, “His power can affect people more easily when they’re already asleep, or in a weakened state.”
“Speaking of, Lucifer told me I should speak to him,” Jasmine mentioned.
“Perhaps at a later date, once you’ve grown somewhat more accustomed to both your magic and your surroundings,” Barbatos proposed. “Rest assured, however, that you will get the chance to do so soon. I would advise you to remember that he is still a prisoner, and for good reason. He is unlikely to act pleasantly toward you,” he warned.
“I understand.” Jasmine closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in. He was right— both caution and patience were advised, if she wanted to actually have a productive conversation. “I wanted to thank you for being so helpful, actually,” she said, shifting the topic.
“It is no trouble, I assure you,” he smiled, placing a gloved hand over his heart. “It is simply my duty as Diavolo’s butler. I aim to aid your stay here in whatever way possible, as to ensure the success of the exchange program.” Right, Jasmine reminded herself. She needed to stay professional. For Barbatos, this was simply an obligation. In any case, she may as well take advantage of the opportunity to satisfy some of her curiosity about the Devildom and its magic.
⏳ synopsis: The time for Lucifer to fess up to what he did to Belphegor has arrived, and Diavolo wants to arrest him for treason. Jasmine requests another option, and Diavolo proposes she make a pact with the youngest brother.
⏳ word count: ~3900
Morning greeted Jasmine peacefully, if not somewhat uncomfortably. She could feel her muscles protesting as she got up from what she now realized was her own bed. She must’ve fallen asleep while on her phone, not even changing out of her home attire into pajamas, so it made sense her body was sore. She was no longer in Lucifer’s study, with the crackling of the logs in the fireplace lulling her to sleep— instead, the branches of the tree in her room greeted her when she looked up to the ceiling, and the enchantment she realized was on the lanterns made them brighten as morning approached. There was no Mammon banging at her door; in fact, the house seemed eerily quiet. Picking her phone up to check the time, Jasmine saw that it was long since past the time school started.
Finally getting up, she stretched out her muscles, twisting from side to side to hear the satisfying pop of her joints. Walking over to the drawers she designated to clothing, she tried to find something appropriate for wearing to a castle. She really only had her uniform and a couple of t-shirts and shorts— nothing nearly nice enough. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she saw a small, folded stack of clothing with a note placed on top. Picking it up to read, she skimmed the note’s contents, feeling a warmth settle in her chest, almost chasing away the apprehension she felt.
To Jasmine,
The brothers have informed me that you have not gone out of your way to procure nicer clothing for yourself, so I’ve taken it upon myself to do so. Feel free to wear this to the meeting you will be having with the Young Master today.
Please, inform either me or Lucifer if you are in need of anything else.
-Barbatos.
The gesture was kind, she thought, even if she didn’t know how Barbatos had kept finding out about these things. Unfolding the perfectly ironed clothes that were left for her, she found a nice, incredibly soft sage green blouse and a pair of blue jeans. Unlike those that she was used to, these jeans were nice. The expensive, form-fitting ones she hadn’t even looked twice at when shopping, much less considered buying for herself because of their absurd price tag. For a royal butler, however, perhaps money was not a concern.
Getting dressed, she checked her phone. It was already late morning, and she needed to go find Lucifer as fast as possible. He said to meet her in his study, the entrance to which she’d found in the library yesterday. Brushing her hair out once again, she made sure she looked presentable before leaving her room.
Entering the Library, Jasmine found the same book she’d touched the day before with ease. Feeling the now more familiar rush under her skin, the secret door to Lucifer’s study unlocked the same way it had previously. Pushing the bookshelf to the side, Jasmine stepped into the room, only to come to a screeching halt.
Lucifer, the prideful oldest brother, was knocked out cold, still sitting at his desk. He was still sitting up, somehow; his left hend held a dip-ink pen loosely, and his right seemed to have been supporting his head that had now slipped off of his palm and was resting in the crook of his elbow. He was tired, his eyebags visible, and from the little Jasmine knew about his personality, he wouldn’t normally let it show this easily. Maybe he was just used to not being able to be disturbed in his study, as he mentioned no-one else being able to enter. The question was whether she should wake him.
As bad as Jasmine felt for cutting off the little sleep he seemed to get, she knew he would likely be more upset if she didn’t wake him up for something as important as a meeting with the crown prince.
Gently, as to not startle him, she called out his name.
Nothing.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, she shook him lightly. Opening his eyes suddenly, he flinched in surprise, not expecting someone to be in front of him, much less Jasmine. He sighed wearily, and ran a hand through his hair before wiping the drowsiness from his face. He had small grey streaks in his hair, Jasmine noticed, that were barely visible if you weren’t as close to him as she was.
“Did you fall asleep while working?” Jasmine questioned, already knowing the answer.
“It appears that way,” Lucifer responded, standing and rolling his shoulders. If she was sore after sleeping on a couch, she couldn’t imagine how bad sleeping the entire night sitting up must feel. “Give me a moment,” he murmured, walking up the stairs in the room to the balcony that overlooked the lower section. After a few minutes, he returned dressed in more formal clothes, and a coat that was lined in some kind of fur was draped over his shoulders.
“Are you ready?” he asked Jasmine, tugging his gloves back on.
“Should be,” she answered, patting her pockets to make sure she had her phone. She was still nervous to have a meeting with the prince, especially since it was about something she wasn’t even informed of. Noticing her fear, however, Lucifer spoke up while exiting the study.
“Don’t be concerned about meeting with Lord Diavolo. As you’ve likely already seen, he is a rather… lively character.”
“Sure, but we’re not going over for a cup of tea,” Jasmine argued. Ignoring Lucifer's sudden puff of laughter, she continued. “You said that me seeing Belphegor in my dreams was bad, but I don’t even know what’s going on at all, much less concerning your brother who I’ve never met.”
“I fear we may end up having tea, actually,” Lucifer muttered offhandedly, navigating through and out of the house with ease, only stopping to put on his shoes at the entranceway before continuing once more. “We will figure this out to the best of our abilities,” Lucifer reassured. “If anything, I should be the one scared. I am, in fact.”
“Why is that?” Jasmine asked, confused about what Lucifer would be scared of.
“The current situation regarding Belphegor is somewhat my fault,” he sighed, but elected not to continue further after a few moments of silence.
Once they reached the castle, Lucifer walked up to the large entrance doors, Jasmine not far behind. Before he could raise his hand to knock, the doors swung open on their own accord. Seeing Jasmine’s surprised expression, Lucifer explained.
“Barbatos is able to cast a spell that will open the doors from a distance,” he smiled, just now registering the centuries-old party trick he’d stopped noticing years ago.
“Oh, cool,” Jasmine responded, following him inside, and the doors closed behind the two of them.
“Come, follow me,” Lucifer instructed, making his way further into the building. They passed through wide, spotless hallways that were decorated in shades of deep maroon red and gold, giving everything a regal, untouchably luxurious, and yet ancient feeling. Going up a flight of stairs, they finally made it to their destination. Pushing open a smaller, but no less extravagantly detailed door, Lucifer walked inside of a room and stood to the side to allow Jasmine to pass through.
Entering as well, Jasmine was greeted with the sight of a comfortable tea room. The decor inside was more muted in tone, allowing for less strain on the eyes. As beautiful as the detailed, reflective flooring everywhere was, the simpler wooden floors and white walls let Jasmine feel like she could breathe again. Diavolo, she could see, was already seated on an armchair next to a coffee table.
“Welcome!” Diavolo beamed, but even his typically endlessly cheerful smile seemed a bit strained. “I’m glad the two of you could make it. Please, sit— make yourselves comfortable,” he instructed, waving vaguely in the direction of the several other armchairs surrounding the table— four total, in the shape of a circle, or rather a square. Neither Jasmine nor Lucifer opted for the two chairs next to Diavolo, but after Jasmine started toward the one furthest away, Lucifer chose the one facing away from the door they came in from. One was left empty, perhaps waiting for a fourth participant in the meeting.
“Lord Diavo—” Lucifer began, but was cut off by Diavolo raising his hand to stop him.
“There’s no need, Lucifer. Surely you know I’m already aware of the situation,” Diavolo asked rhetorically, and even though Jasmine couldn’t feel any real heat behind his words, the tension between the two men was palpable.
Sighing, Lucifer’s shoulders dropped slightly, but he still didn’t relax fully. “Your butler is truly something,” he shook his head. “How long?”
“Almost since it occurred,” Diavolo replied, his smile now tight-lipped. “Speaking of my butler, however, I believe you may have some new information to share?” he called out, turning his head slightly to the side.
“That is correct, My Lord,” came a voice from a corner of the room. Turning her head, Jasmine saw that it was Barbatos. She hadn’t seen him when she came in, however, nor did she hear him enter. “I hope the tea is to everyone’s liking,” he remarked, setting down the large tray he’d been holding in one hand. He distributed scones, cookies, and other pastries on neat platters across the table, and then poured everyone a cup of tea.
“Thank you, Barbatos— it is fantastic, as usual,” Diavolo complemented, taking a sip from his cup. “Sit down, please, we have much to discuss.”
Receiving permission, Barbatos finally took a seat in the remaining chair, posture still straight and formal.
“What’s happening?” Jasmine finally blurted out, her confusion only growing by the minute from the consistent lack of answers.
“That, dear human, is what we have been trying to figure out,” Diavolo answered, a teasing smile on his lips. “I believe a rather long story is an order, wouldn’t you agree, Lucifer?” he asked the man next to him pointedly, and Jasmine saw Lucifer tighten involuntarily, who set his teacup down with an audible ‘clink’.
“Very well,” he acquiesced. “How much do you know about the Celestial realm, Jasmine?”
“I was told the seven of you are fallen angels,” she recalled.
“What about Satan?”
He brought up a good point. From what Satan and Solomon had told her, Satan manifested after Lucifer had already fallen.
“He was born after you all fell.”
“Exactly. There were still seven fallen angels, however. The seventh was our sister, Lilith,” Lucifer revealed.
“Did… something happen to her?” Jasmine asked tentatively. She’d never even heard of her, so there was probably a reason why that was the case.
“She was the reason the Celestial War began,” Lucifer started, his expression growing forlorn. “She fell in love with a human, who ended up growing terribly ill. In a desperate attempt to save him, she stole a fruit from the Celestial realm and fed it to him.” He paused, then, and took a second to compose himself. “Since this was a blatant violation of the law, Michael ordered her to be executed.”
“Executed? Isn’t that a bit… harsh?” Jasmine argued.
“We thought so too,” Lucifer agreed. “That’s why me and my brothers took arms to fight against the ruling.”
“I’m assuming you lost?” she asked. Since they were demons now, the war probably didn’t go very well for them.
“Yes. During the fall, many of us were terribly injured. Lilith…” he stopped, closing his eyes and swallowing heavily.
“She died, didn’t she.”
“That is the reason Belphegor despises humans,” he sighed, picking up his cup of tea and bringing it to his lips. His hands were shaking, just barely perceptible.
“So what is he doing in the attic, then?” As soon as Jasmine asked, Diavolo looked at Lucifer expectantly before answering.
“Well, he was meant to be the demon exchange student who was sent to the human world. He was not a fan of the idea, unfortunately,” Diavolo sighed.
“In the end, I wanted to protect Belphegor from being charged with treason after his threats toward the crown, as well as the entirety of the human realm,” Lucifer admitted. “I hid him in the attic, but it appears that has only exacerbated his hatred for both me and humans as a whole.”
“So he was trying to kill me,” Jasmine stated.
“That would be correct,” Barbatos finally spoke, looking at her steadily. “He wanted to trick you into opening the door with your magic and to kill you as soon as you did so,” he explained with a faint frown.
“He said I would need pacts with all of the brothers, though, so how would I be able to open the door without them?” Jasmine questioned, trying to connect the dots as well as she could.
“Typically, that would be the case,” Lucifer spoke up. “However, we both remember your ability to open the room to my study— the spell on the attic is very similar.”
“She was able to open the lock on your study?” Diavolo asked incredulously. “Haha, isn’t that something!” he laughed. “Speaking of Lilith, would you like to do the honors of explaining her magic, Lucifer?”
“Very well,” Lucifer began, “After she fell, Lilith was the most injured out of all of us.”
“Did she die?” Jasmine wondered.
“Almost. I saw her condition, however, and begged Diavolo to save her.”
“Save her? I thought demons didn’t have healing magic,” she recalled from one of her classes.
“We do not,” Diavolo chimed in. “I couldn’t heal her, but Lucifer made a deal with me. In exchange for his loyalty, I reincarnated Lilith as a human, so she could spend her years with her lover.”
“Are you still bound by the deal?”
“Yes,” Lucifer confirmed. “I am… sworn by oath to remain faithful to the prince.”
“Is that really necessary?” Jasmine questioned.
“A topic for another day, perhaps,” Diavolo cut in, quickly stopping any further questioning on the matter.
“In any case, after she became human, she had a child,” Lucifer continued. “You, Jasmine, are one of her descendants.”
“I’m having some difficulty believing that. How did you even find that out?” Jasmine rebutted, fingernails tapping on the side of her porcelain cup.
“You are aware that I have the ability to see into the past, yes?” Barbatos asked. Seeing her nod of recognition, he continued. “After we exhausted all legal records, I delved into the past to see your heritage.”
"How long did you know for? Surely you could've found this out earlier?"
"Not exactly," Barbatos explained. "I do not use my powers until I am instructed to by My Lord. I had only found out your... situation on accident."
"I, for one, only found out this morning," Lucifer admitted, running a hand over his face tiredly. He looked so, so tired. It was no surprise-- finding out a human living in your house was actually your dead sisters long-lost relative couldn't easy. "I had my suspicions, of course, due to your magic, but... we couldn't know for certain until Barbatos had verified it."
Jasmine paused. Of everyone she’d met so far, Lucifer and Barbatos had been the most consistent presences of calm, so she was inclined to trust them when they both told her the same thing.
“Even if that’s true, how could that affect my magic?”
“Some celestial powers remained in her even after becoming human. It appears that they skipped several generations, however,” Barbatos explained.
“Alright, so what do we do about the whole Belphegor thing?”
“I would like to arrest him for treason,” Diavolo replied seriously, voice dropping an octave. Jasmine noticed Lucifer’s strained expression as the mention of his little brother being arrested, and felt a pang of sympathy for him. Looking over at Barbatos, he was looking at her expectantly.
“Isn’t there another option?” she asked, glancing between the three men in front of her. She didn't want to be killed, obviously, but she also didn’t want to have someone imprisoned.
“A pact,” Diavolo stated. “Do you remember how the one you made with Mammon allowed you to give him orders?” Seeing her nod, he kept speaking. “You can do the same with Belphegor. I feel as though the threat of imprisonment would serve as quite the compelling factor for him to agree.”
“I don't think he would allow that, if he really wanted to kill me that badly,” Jasmine argued.
“It is up to the both of you,” he relinquished, putting his hands up in a way that suggested he didn’t want to interfere unless necessary. “Lucifer, are you content with arranging for his transport to the castle?” Diavolo turned to the black haired man, raising his eyebrow. Jasmine got the feeling this was Diavolo’s version of an olive branch for Lucifer after being lied to about Belphegor.
“Yes… Yes, that seems reasonable,” Lucifer agreed, his eyes wide with shock. “Where will he stay?”
“The castle dungeons. I must apologize for the lack of comfort, but it is the most convenient location that is already warded against escape or magic,” Barbatos replied.
“Are the brothers gonna find out about Belphegor? Beel still thinks he’s in the human world,” Jasmine pointed out, worried. Beel seemed to care deeply about his brothers, and finding out that his twin was going to kill someone couldn’t be pleasant. Satan, too, would probably be impacted by Lucifer’s deception, shaking the already strained relationship between the two of them.
“We will not be informing them of anything,” Diavolo reassured. “We wanted to ensure Lucifer has the freedom to do so in a way he deems the most suitable.”
“I appreciate it, Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer thanked, relief visible on his face. After all, Jasmine realized, hiding a criminal is a crime in and of itself.
Finally, Diavolo turned to the table in front of them and reached for a scone. “Now, with all of the heavier discussion out of the way, let us eat!” he proclaimed. “Barbatos’ pastries are always a delight.”
“Thank you, I do appreciate it, My Lord,” Barbatos smiled, putting his hand on his heart and bowing forward in his seat. Deciding to take a pastry herself, Jasmine chose a chocolate-covered eclair. Taking a small bite, she felt the cream inside melt away almost immediately. It was good— not too sweet, and with the rich flavour of chocolate coming through more than she’s ever seen from a store-bought eclair. Lucifer mostly forwent dessert, but even he placed a small cookie onto his plate, taking polite bites between sips of tea.
Seeing everyone begin eating, Barbatos reached for the same dessert Jasmine had. Grabbing an eclair with his right hand, he accidentally brushed the inside of his left wrist with the chocolate when reaching to grab his teacup. Noticing the smudge immediately, he glanced over at Diavolo and Lucifer, who were now engrossed in their own conversation. Deeming them appropriately distracted, he lifted his wrist to his mouth and sucked the chocolate off quickly before putting it back down, somehow still making the movement look elegant.
Jasmine had certainly noticed, however, and she felt her face and ears suddenly grow warmer than they had been a few seconds prior. Anyone with eyes, she thought, would be able to admit the man was attractive, and his composure only multiplied the initial impression he gave off.
Noticing her staring, Barbatos only looked at her for a fraction of a second before gaining a mischievous, yet polite, smile and raising his hand to his mouth quickly, as though trying to prevent anyone from seeing his amusement. The commotion, if you could even call it that, evidently attracted Diavolo’s attention as well, who looked between the two of them with a wickedly smug look in his eyes. Lucifer, on the other hand, didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, as he was turned toward Diavolo and had his eyes closed in a sigh when the prince had exchanged a teasing glance with Jasmine.
The rest of the little ‘tea party’ continued without anything notable occurring— Diavolo discussing aspects of the exchange program with Jasmine and Lucifer, and Barbatos occasionally providing witty, yet still polite and professional, commentary. Eventually it grew time for Lucifer and Jasmine to leave, and bidding their goodbyes to the prince and his butler, they returned to the HoL a bit after the rest of the brothers came back from RAD.
After dinner— it was Satan’s turn cooking, and he’d made a simple Italian pasta that everyone quite liked— Jasmine returned to her room. Changing out of the clothes she wore to the meeting, she heard a knock at her door.
“Come in,” she called out, tying her hair up into a messy bun. Hearing the door open quietly, she turned around to see who it was. Mammon stood in her doorway, eyes flitting around nervously. “Oh, Mammon. Did you need something?”
“I, uh. Levi wanted to invite ya to play games,” he responded, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked tense, but not scared— just defensive in a way that screamed ‘pretending not to care even if I do’. Was he still distrustful of her promise?
“What for? And why didn’t he just text me? He has my number,” Jasmine pointed out.
“Me an’ him play together sometimes, and he told me to invite ya!” he defended, his loud personality somewhat returning. “Didn’t wanna let ya get all lonely or somethin’. Plus, I was gettin’ snacks from the kitchen, so your room was on the way,” he explained, obviously blushing. He didn’t seem like he was lying, but more so trying to convince both of them he had no interest in anything going on. Jasmine had a feeling that he did care, but she didn’t have any evidence to support that theory.
“Sure, I’d love to play with the two of you,” Jasmine agreed, walking toward Mammon. “Should I head over to Levi’s room?” she asked, as Mammon moved out of her room to allow her to step out.
“Yea, I’ll be right there,” he responded, walking down the hall to the kitchen. “And don’t ya dare start without me! Tell Levi I’ll smack ‘im if he does!” he yelled, disappearing into the other room with a smirk, likely to get the promised snacks.
Smiling back and starting on her way downstairs, she happened to glance out one of the windows she walked past. Out of the corner of her vision, she just barely saw a splash of grayish-blue and green. Doubling back, she could see Belphegor, the man from her dream, who tried to manipulate her with the intent of murdering her afterwards. Barbatos was next to him, holding his hand up with some kind of teal-green magic circling above his gloved palm. At that exact moment, Barbatos angled his head just slightly to where he could make eye contact with her for a brief second before the two men simply… disappeared. She wasn’t sure of exactly what happened, but one moment they were both there, and then she blinked, and it was as if she’d hallucinated the experience. If Belphegor was being taken to the castle, then did the brothers already know what had happened with Lucifer? She had no real way of knowing, but she hoped she could get one of them to disclose that information to her so she was aware of what she could speak about.
Brushing the thought away for the time being, she took the staircase down to the basement and ran a hand through her hair absentmindedly, thinking. Someone wanted her dead, and only because she was human. The demons at RAD weren’t friendly, sure, but none of them had dared to try anything. A demon powerful enough to be one of the seven avatars, though? She had a feeling he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her as soon as he was given the chance.
⏳ synopsis: The seventh brother, Belphegor, pretends to be a human when he appears to Jasmine in her magic-exhausted state. She goes to Lucifer immediately, and he schedules a meeting with the prince for the next day.
⏳ word count: ~5000
She could hear a voice.
It was calm. Sleepy, even. The gentle murmur of it almost made her want to drift off to sleep and never wake back up again. But it was talking to her… asking her something.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw a comfortable, blanket-covered attic floor around her. There was a man next to her, with dark, grayish-navy blue hair with white tips that obscured one of his eyes entirely, and the other one glowed a bright, unnatural purple. He was sitting down, holding onto a cow-print pillow, and wore a similarly-patterned cow-print hoodie. He had a calm, drowsy expression, but his eyes were tracking Jasmine’s movements with precision. Sitting up slowly, Jasmine noticed the slightly misty haze that surrounded everything not in her immediate vicinity.
The man was talking to her again, but this time she could make out more of what he was saying.
“–ey, are you listening? I need your he–” he drifted in and out of her awareness, voice going from relatively clear to muffled to gone and back again. Eventually, he became loud enough to hear consistently. “I need your help, please,” he pleaded, his expression not unlike one of a kicked puppy.
“Who… who are you?” Jasmine asked, trying to keep her eyes open.
“I’m Belphegor, a human,” he explained. “I was trapped here by Lucifer, the demon,” he solemnly said, and Jasmine could see tears welling up in his eyes. Lucifer, the man who had worried about whether she made it home and suggested she get a map on her phone so she wouldn’t get lost. Lucifer, the man who hounded his brothers not to be late for school. Lucifer, the man who hung Mammon up on the chandelier after he found out Mammon left her alone for the entire day.
“Lucifer? Why would he…” she questioned, but was quickly interrupted.
“Because he’s evil,” Belphegor spat. “He hates humans, and so he locked me up here. Please, help me get out,” he begged, looking at her with big, pleading eyes.
“And you said you’re human?” Jasmine attempted to ascertain.
“Yeah, I’m one of you,” he yawned, rubbing his watery eyes.
His eyes.
His bright purple eyes.
Human? Unlikely.
Jasmine was immediately on edge, and the way he was acting only confirmed her suspicions. Cute, ‘human’, sleepy, and laying the charm on thick.
He was lying.
“And why do you need my help?” Jasmine played along, “I don’t think I can do anything.”
“You’re the only one who can save me,” he refuted. “You’ve already made a pact with one of the brothers.”
She had. With Mammon. But this wasn’t the first time she was hearing about people recognizing her pact— Solomon and Satan had told her that only demons could feel when a human had a pact.
“A pact? What do you need that for?” Jasmine asked, tilting her head in the same ‘cute’ manner he was behaving.
“The door to the attic,” Belphegor explained, “It needs the power of all of the demon brothers to open it. If you can make enough pacts, then you can set me free!”
“And what makes you think I can make a pact with everyone?” she narrowed her eyes, growing more and more tired of his games.
“You’re a human, obviously. You–we’re resilient, adaptable.” He slipped up, and she heard it. He winced at his own mistake, but seeing Jasmine not comment on it, he continued. “If you’re capable enough to make one, then I’m sure you can get one with everyone else.” His voice was growing fainter again, even though Jasmine was feeling more awake than before. Her sheer annoyance at being treated like she was stupid was enough to rid her of the majority of her exhaustion.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she replied, smiling back at him.
“Thank you,” he sighed in relief. “You’re probably going to wake up soon, but you don’t know how much this means to me,” he told her, voice fading out slowly. The white mist that was at the edges of the room creeped closer and closer inward until she felt herself fall back into sleep.
____________
Barbatos was panicking.
While making tea, of all things, an activity he typically thought of as his respite from whatever else was going on around him. Now, however, the process of carefully selecting complementary flavors seemed more overwhelming than enjoyable. Closing a cabinet door with more force than strictly necessary, he opted to simply rely on Hell Rose tea once again— a favorite of Diavolo’s, and simple to prepare.
Him losing composure wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it appeared to be happening more and more since the exchange program had begun.
The issue was Jasmine. He couldn’t get her out of her head, for various reasons.
The first one being the most important— from what he could tell, she was going to die soon. His visions had not lessened, and in fact, they had only escalated over time. They were the worst the night after he first spoke to her at the market, but the current moment may just replace that previous record. He had visions of the door holding Belphegor in the attic unlocking, and him pouncing at Jasmine, along with extremely detailed views of her bones breaking and twisting in unnatural ways as Belphegor killed her almost every night.
He didn’t know how he could prevent it. They had been trying to look for a reason that the door would open so suddenly and without cause, but all of their leads had returned with nothing. Normally, that wouldn’t be that much of a problem. Simply dispose themselves of the human and continue on like nothing ever happened.
The pact with Mammon prevented him from doing so. Now, his actions would have far greater consequences.
The second reason was that her magic was extremely unusual. Solomon had been instructed to tutor her and see if he could get her up to speed with the basic-level, introductory course on magic.
According to the message he had just received from his pact holder, that wasn’t going as planned. Apparently, she possessed Celestial magic, and other than that, was extremely affluent in spellcasting from the very first time she had ever attempted it. He feared he may need to become her tutor himself, as he would be able to manage any magical outbursts much more effectively.
The issue with that, however, was also the third reason he couldn’t get her out of his head.
He was worried he was starting to take interest in the exchange student. It wasn’t anything serious, at the moment, but his visions had also given him a glimpse of an alternate reality.
An alternate reality with them as lovers.
He glared at the pouch of Jasmine tea he had bought for himself as well, when he encountered her at the market. He hadn’t touched it— it remained unopened, waiting for something Barbatos himself didn’t know about. He had no need for it, really— it was a classic human world tea, but one neither him nor Diavolo had a particular fondness for. He hadn’t been able to resist either way, something in his mind tugging him towards the hope that maybe he could find something new in Jasmine.
Happiness, perhaps.
Barbatos had never experienced love, at least in a romantic sense, and he didn't think he ever would. He had Diavolo, of course, who he thought of as a dear friend, and loved in an almost fatherly way, especially when he first met the prince. But romantic love? He didn’t know what that felt like, and he would prefer it if it stayed that way.
He was lying to himself.
He held the exchange student at a distance, avoiding mixing potential feelings— ones that were not his, not really, but rather of an alternate version of himself— with reality. The brief interaction he held with her during class had warmed his heart in a way he did not expect. In a way he could not expect, seeing as how this had never happened to him before, even in his millennia alive. He would need to keep himself at an arms reach even more religiously than he had before. He could not afford a distraction in his work, or even worse— he struggled to even think about it, a shiver rolling through him— a weakness. Humans were fleeting, ephemeral, and so terribly fragile. Not only would something like that be improper, tarnishing his image with the older, more conservative nobles, but it would provide people who hated him— or more specifically, the crown— an easy target.
And now, he would have to teach her magic, while simultaneously needing to not go insane from the need to find a way for her not to die.
One step at a time, he thought, taking a deep breath before picking up the tea tray and heading to the Young Master’s office.
_____________
Waking up was surprisingly pleasant.
She could hear birds chirping not too far from where she was lying down, and there was someone sitting next to her, a warm thigh being pressed against her side. Opening her eyes slowly, Jasmine saw a clean white room with an open window right next to the bed she was on. A sheer white curtain with gold-trimmed edges fluttered in the wind, and the evening light from outside streetlights lit the room in shades of yellow and gold.
“Have you awoken, little lamb?” Jasmine heard Simeon’s voice from behind her. Rolling over to her other side, she gazed up at the angel sat next to her. He smiled and gently stood up from the bed, offering her his hand to grab onto.
“Is this… your room?” she asked, sitting up and taking his hand.
“It is,” he confirmed, helping her stand up gently. “Me and Solomon set you down to rest after the magical exhaustion you experienced earlier.”
“Magical exhaustion… is that a side defect of using magic?” Jasmine yawned, sitting up and rubbing her bleary eyes. “How long was I out?”
“Yes, but it tends to be much less intense than what you experienced,” he explained. “I believe the large amount of magic you used, combined with it being your first time, made it have a greater effect on you. You were unconscious for about a day.”
“A day?” she repeated, shocked. She felt like she’d only been out for a few hours, but apparently not. “Is Solomon alright?” she worried, recalling his strained voice as he tried to suppress her magic. “He’s alright,” Simeon reassured, smiling gently. “I think he just wasn’t expecting you to be able to cast such a powerful spell. Also, he went about it in a rather.. inefficient way.”
“Inefficient?” she repeated.
“He didn’t want to knock you out with magic,” Simeon clarified.
“That’s… kind of him,” Jasmine supposed, wincing at the thought of having to be sedated. “Does anyone know about what happened?”
“We informed Barbatos, Lucifer, and Diavolo about everything, but the rest of the brothers only know what’s necessary,” he replied, leading her out of the room and back into the hallway she’d seen previously. The room she’d been in previously, Solomon’s room, was across the hall.
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Jasmine followed Simeon to the front section of the house, and stopped in the living room as he stepped into what she assumed to be a kitchen. Within just a few moments, he returned carrying a cup of water, condensation beading down the side of the glass. Handing it to her, Simeon sat down on the couch and stretched his hands above his head, fingers interlocked. Sipping from the glass, suddenly realizing she was extremely parched, Jasmine sat down beside him.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of blonde hair streaking past the doorway. Simeon, evidently, had noticed as well, and huffed a laugh as he put his hands back down.
“Luke,” he called out, “Do you want to come say hi?”
His words were met with silence for a few seconds, before the same face Jasmine remembered seeing earlier in the day peeked into view. Slowly exiting the doorway, Luke came closer, a frown on his face and a furious blush on his cheeks.
“Hello, Luke,” Jasmine greeted, doing her best to seem as nice as she could. She wasn’t the best with kids— she had always felt a bit awkward, especially when trying to interact with them or doing things they enjoyed. She’d never been able to act particularly childish as a kid, or even a teen, so she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she smiled.
“H-hi!” he spluttered out, seemingly excited but reluctant to show it. “I know you know this already, but I’m Luke!” he burst.
“It’s good to meet you, Luke!” Jasmine attempted to respond with enthusiasm. As monotone as she was with some people, Luke really was cute, and the last thing she wanted to do was upset him or make him feel like she didn’t want to meet him. “You’re an angel, right?” she asked.
“Yea!” he exclaimed, his excitement finally bursting through, “And you’re Jasmine, the new human exchange student, right?”
“I am! Have you heard about me?” she teased.
“I heard you made a pact with a demon,” he whispered dramatically, his expression suddenly darkening. “But other than that, Simeon and Solomon said you’re really nice!” he grinned widely. Jasmine looked at Simeon, who had a slight furrow in his brow and was rubbing his neck awkwardly.
“Do you not like demons?” she decided to ask anyway.
“Well, they’re demons,” Luke said defensively, “They’re evil!”
“Demons are affected by sin and temptation, Luke, but they aren’t evil,” Simeon sighed, a tired smile on his face. Based on the way he reacted, this was a reoccurring conversation. What had caused Luke to think that way, though? Jasmine understood the logic, but after spending even a couple days with the brothers, she could see that they weren’t as bad as she thought. At the very least, they certainly weren't evil.
“Have they done anything to make you feel that way?” Jasmine questioned, slightly concerned.
“N-no,” Luke admitted, pouting aggressively.
“Then maybe try and get to know some of them a little better,” she suggested. “I heard you and Barbatos got along well— maybe you can try and find someone else you trust.”
“I think that’d be a great idea, Luke,” Simeon encouraged. Still seemingly unhappy about the idea, Luke humphed and crossed his arms.
“Maybe… but no promises!” he relented, his beret sliding off slightly— he was forced to readjust it, but still did his best to act upset, and he ended up looking a bit like a petulant child. Noticing her glass of water was already empty, Jasmine set it down on the coffee table nearby and stood back up, stretching.
“Oh, will you be heading out?” Simeon asked, taking both of their cups and standing up to join her.
“Yea, probably,” she replied, slinging her bookbag over one shoulder and waving to Luke, who waved back enthusiastically. Stepping into the kitchen for just a moment, Simeon returned with his hands now empty and bid her goodbye as well. Reaching out for a hug, Jasmine felt Simeon stiffen slightly in surprise before melting into the friendly embrace. Extending the same gesture to Luke, squatting down to a lower height, he quickly ran up to her and hugged her tightly. Saying her goodbyes— and making Simeon promise to inform her of Solomon’s wellbeing— Jasmine left Purgatory Hall and started on her way to the HoL.
The walk wasn’t long, and she remembered it well from the several times she’d done it. She was home before long, and entering the entrance hall, she heard the commotion of people in the direction of the kitchen. It was dinnertime, she realized. She hadn't had real food in days, now, since she was unused to the Devildom’s… unique culinary style.
Apparently it was Mammon’s turn to cook, Jasmine thought walking into the kitchen. Spices were strewn about somewhat haphazardly, and the smell of food was pleasant, albeit extremely spicy. As she entered the room, Beelzebub made eye contact with her, nodding. He was sneaking food off of countertops and cutting boards, evidently not being able to wait until dinner was actually ready. Mammon also noticed her presence, but he didn’t do much other than glance at her briefly before blushing and turning away. He was probably still processing their deal, Jasmine figured.
Peeking into the dining room, she saw the rest of the brothers doing their respective activities: Satan was reading, Asmodeus was doing makeup and scrolling social media, and Leviathan was absorbed in a mobile game once again. Lucifer, however, was notably absent from the head of the table. Jasmine needed to find him later; she wanted to talk to him about the strange dream— vision? — she had earlier that evening. Going back into the kitchen, she tried to join Mammon in cooking.
“Mammon,” she called, “Anything I can help with?”
“Nah, all good,” he declined, stirring what seemed like noodles in a pan aggressively. He seemed like a good cook, actually, which is likely why he was allowed to manage dinner without supervision.
“Alright,” she conceded, turning to look at Beel instead. “Hey, Beel, do you want to go show me what you were going to earlier?”
Startled from being addressed, he looked up at her with guilty eyes, hand reaching toward another one of the vegetables on the cutting board. Strangely enough, Mammon hadn't commented on it once, despite obviously noticing. In fact, he seemed to still have more than enough ingredients. Did he prepare more than he needed on purpose?
“Yea, sure,” Beel agreed, snagging another couple chopped peppers before leading her out of the kitchen and into the halls. Walking through the house, he continued at a steady pace until he reached a stairwell Jasmine hadn’t seen before. It appeared to be more of a portrait hall, with pictures of all of the brothers hung up across the walls. There was one that Jasmine instantly recognized, however— the navy-haired man from her dream.
“Who’s he?” she asked, pointing at the picture. Beel’s expression became downcast again, as he rubbed his arm nervously.
“That’s… my twin,” he explained, staring at the portrait longingly. Suddenly, Jasmine made the connection between the two men’s eye color— bright, amethyst purple. Other than that, however, they were dead opposites— one was broad, well-built, bright, and warm-colored, while the other seemed skinny, boyishly cute, dark-themed, and cool-toned.
“What’s his name?” she decided on from the litany of questions swirling through her head, not wanting to reveal to Beel that she had already met his twin.
“Belphegor,” Beel responded, finally smiling. “He’s really nice. He went off to the human world for the exchange program, though. He… didn't go willingly, though. I hope he doesn’t resent Lucifer too much for making him.”
Well, at least he wasn’t lying about his name, too. Now, however, Jasmine had proof that her suspicions were well-founded, as Belphegor definitely wasn’t human.
“Why didn’t he want to go?”
“Belphie… doesn’t really like humans. I’d hoped the exchange program could make him see they weren’t all that bad, but… he seemed really upset at Lucifer before leaving.”
So, a demon pretending to be human, who is supposed to be in the human world but is actually in an attic in the House of Lamentation without anyone’s knowledge. Who was begging Jasmine to free him. Nothing about the entire situation spelled “good idea”, so she made up her mind to tell Lucifer everything she had seen. After she found him. And after they ate— she was starving.
In a mutual agreement, Jasmine and Beel made their way back to the dining room in comfortable silence, and she noted that Beel seemed a lot lighter. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to about missing his own twin brother.
Entering the dining room, she sat down at her respective seat, joining the rest of the brothers. Beel went into the kitchen again to help Mammon, who appeared as if on cue, carrying out several plates and bowls of food. Most of it was some shade of red or orange, giving the impression that it would be extremely spicy. Upon further inspection, however, there were two versions of each dish— one more spicy, for Mammon and whoever else preferred their food that way, and one for those who couldn't handle a pile of cayenne on top of their food. Interestingly, the food had taken a drastic shift from previous meals into something much more… typical for Jasmine. It was simple— sandwiches, noodles, spicy tacos— foods she was accustomed to and didn’t have to quadruple-check before eating. She was grateful for Mammon’s thoughtfulness, and she could tell that it wasn’t a coincidence from the pleased expression he got after she put more than the very minimum for survival on her plate.
“So, how did school go for you, Jasmine?” Asmodeus asked, managing to eat ramen without messing up his makeup.
“I literally saw you at school,” she sighed in response.
“I mean other than that! Did anyone say anything about your pact?”
“About that,” Jasmine sat up a bit straighter, “You’re known for being in on all of the gossip. Do you know what people were saying?”
“Oh? Curious, are we~” he drawled, abandoning his food in favor of speaking to her. “Well, darling, demons are interested to know who you could possibly be to gain a pact with one of us brothers so fast.”
“I barely know that myself,” she admitted, stabbing at her pepper. “Where is Lucifer, by the way?”
“He went to his darling Diavolo,” Satan bit out, flipping a page in his book. “Something to do with the exchange program.” Did it have something to do with her? Simeon had mentioned Solomon was also in the castle. A sudden feeling of apprehension ran through her. Did she do something?
“When will he be back?” she asked.
“Usually before midnight,” Satan responded, snapping his book shut and sighing annoyedly.
Going back to their food, everyone finished eating quickly after that, still chattering lightly. Pushing her chair back, Jasmine thanked Mammon for the food and left to find Lucifer's study. Wandering through the House’s hallways, she found the library instead. Pushing the large, ornate wooden door aside and stepping in, she took in the tall arched ceilings that had chandeliers hanging from them. Books covered every surface, bookshelf, and some were even floating in the air around the room.
One bookshelf caught her eye. There was no particular reason— it looked no different from the dozens of others around the room. She walked around the room, gently dragging her fingers across the spines of the books. The closer she got to that shelf, however, the warm, tingly feeling she felt with Solomon returned.
Placing her palm onto one of the books, she slid her hand across them until the feeling, a faint vibration from her fingertips, got more noticeable. As soon as her hands brushed a specific book— black, leather bound, and a ruby embedded into the spine— Jasmine heard a faint ‘click’ from behind the shelf.
Pushing down onto the bookshelf, she felt it give under the pressure. With her barely guiding it, it smoothly slid behind the shelf to the left, revealing another room in the space behind the books.
The room contained another fireplace— similar to the one she’d just seen in the library, but this one was dark wood instead of white marble. A desk sat in the very far back of the room, facing toward the entrance she was standing in. In the middle of the room was a red carpet, atop which were two red-and-gold armchairs and a small wooden coffee table. On the right side of the room, opposite the fireplace, was an ornate shelf containing bottles upon bottles of alcohol, and the skull of some demonic animal Jasmine wasn’t familiar with.
Was this Lucifer’s study? It smelled vaguely of smoke, leather, and wine— the same things she’d noticed clung to Lucifer wherever he went.
Once she stepped in fully, the door closed behind her. Turning around, she tried pressing against it again, but to no avail. That was fine, she thought. She would just wait until Lucifer returned— Satan had said he would be back before midnight, after all.
Before she could look around further, an unusual force pulled her arms up above her head and lifted her up from the ground. Wincing from the pain of her shoulders feeling like they were yanked much harder that her sockets could handle, Jasmine felt the same force wrap under her shoulders and around her chest, distributing the weight a bit better. A wave of magic accompanied it, making her look around for what the source could be.
Hearing the click of the entrance being unlocked once again, Jasmine saw Lucifer enter the room, a furious aura emanating from him. The thing that caught her eyes the most, however, were the four black wings sprouting from Lucifer's back. Not that she had the time to examine them, as she was hoisted up into the air further, and began to swing lightly.
“Mammon, what could you possi–” Lucifer began, voice raised, before opening his eyes to see none other than the human exchange student dangling before him. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before he closed them again to pinch the bridge of his nose. “What,” he sighed, “are you doing in my room, and how did you get in?”
“I was looking for you,” Jasmine admitted, going slack in the magic’s hold. “Please set me down, this is rather painful.” Looking momentarily shocked, or perhaps unaccustomed to the fragility of humans as opposed to demons, he relinquished his magic’s hold on her. Being set down somewhat carefully— at least she wasn’t dropped, Jasmine thought— she stretched the lingering discomfort from her elbows and shoulders.
“No human, or even ordinary demon, should be able to enter my study.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Jasmine sighed, crossing her arms to mirror Lucifer’s own posture. “I touched a book, and suddenly the bookshelf started moving.”
“There are hundreds, if not thousands of books in the library— I strongly doubt you happened to stumble across the exact one that opened the door,” Lucifer narrowed his eyes, staring her down. “Additionally, it requires the knowledge of an unlocking spell, and one that utilizes celestial magic that you should not possess.”
“I could feel some kind of… humming, or maybe a vibration, I guess, coming from its direction.”
“You could feel… Nevermind that,” Lucifer brushed past the topic, shaking his head. “We can discuss that at a later date. What is it that you were needing from me, if what you say is true?”
“I wanted to tell you about a weird dream I had.”
“A dream? Surely you know better than to bother me with such trivial matters–”
“It was about your brother,” she interjected, growing increasingly more exasperated at his dismissals.
“My brother? Which one?” he questioned, still unimpressed, but seeming slightly more interested now. “You’re well aware there are several to choose from, and I can’t read minds,” he teased, but Jasmine could see he was still tense. He seemed tired— whatever he was doing at the castle must’ve been draining.
“Belphegor.”
“...Come again.”
“Your brother, Belphegor. I saw him in my dream.”
She had never seen an expression of such pure shock, mixed with a healthy dose of apprehension, on anyone’s, much less Lucifer’s, face.
“Oh, for the Devildom’s sake…” Lucifer winced, and raised his head to look at the ceiling for a few beats to compose himself. “I suppose it was unwise of me to assume this would be able to stay under wraps for very long.”
“I’m going to assume that this is bad.”
“You have no idea, Jasmine.” He took a deep breath and looked at her once more, this time appearing to be analyzing her. What could he be looking for? “Meet me here before school tomorrow. You’ll be going with me to the Demon Lord’s Castle to meet with Diavolo and Barbatos.”
“Don’t they attend RAD as well, though?” Jasmine asked, not wanting to inconvenience them.
“I’ll be messaging them later to set up a meeting. For now, go rest,” Lucifer instructed, pointing at the entrance to his study. Glancing to the door, Jasmine realized she didn’t really want to leave yet. She was tired, and after everything that had happened that day— seeing everyone at school, developing intrigue toward a butler, making a promise about her pact, having a failed magic lesson that ended with her passing out, meeting a scheming demon who hated her entire race, and now being suddenly jumpscared by an angry Lucifer— she didn’t have any desire to speak to other people. Even the thought of running into someone on her way back to her room filled her with dread.
“Could I stay here?” Jasmine asked, looking away from Lucifer nervously. What she didn’t see was his expression softening slightly as he sighed, suddenly feeling terribly reminded of his brothers when they were much, much younger. She did, however, hear him sigh before he loosened his stance to reply.
“Only if you intend to sleep on a couch the entire night,” Lucifer drawled, moving past her to peel his gloves off.
“I don’t mind. They say it’s better for your back, anyway,” she replied jokingly. Turning around to follow him with her gaze, she caught the moment Lucifer shifted back into his more human form, wings and horns shimmering into a haze before simply vanishing.
“Suit yourself,” he finally allowed, sitting down at his desk and shrugging his coat off. “Just maybe tell Mammon where you are, so he doesn’t think you were kidnapped in the night,” he teased, giving her a soft smile she hadn’t seen often during her stay so far.
“Will do,” she agreed, walking up to one of the small, single-person couches and slowly scooting it across the floor to join it with its copy, creating a couch that was double the length. Lying down on her side comfortably, Jasmine took out her phone with one last look toward Lucifer, who had already busied himself with stacks of paperwork, his mouth still carrying a barely-there smile.
⏳ synopsis: Mammon's pact is a new development, but he seems to almost expect Jasmine to take advantage of it. Tutoring with Solomon goes about as well as expected--- completely off the rails. Who's going to teach her instead?
⏳ word count: ~3000
As the school bell rang to signal the end of the day, Jasmine sighed and walked out of RAD’s huge entranceway. People were still avoiding her the same way they had this morning— in fact, they had begun to shoot her glances that seemed almost afraid. Her best guess was that the passing of the school day had allowed rumors to spread and worsen around campus. Although she didn't know exactly what they were saying, she recalled Asmodeus being known as a gossip; maybe she could ask him. For now, however, she needed to meet with Solomon.
She remembered the way there only vaguely, her recollection entirely based on the fragments she paid attention to during her conversation with Simeon on the way there. Except this time, Mammon was there to accompany her, not unlikely because of their newfound pact.
“So ya said ya we’re gonna head to the Hall, right?” he questioned, walking next to her while throwing a gold coin— a Grim, she’d been informed— into the air and catching it over and over again.
“Solomon told me to meet him there at six for a tutoring session,” Jasmine informed him, walking slightly further away from him so as to not get hit in the head if the coin flew astray.
“A tutorin’ session? What’cha need that for, the year just started,” Mammon asked, his distraction causing him to almost drop the coin before catching it, making him stumble.
“I’ve never used magic,” she explained. “He said my pact with you should help me get the hang of it more easily, though.”
“‘Course it will. Don’t forget I’m the second strongest, after all!” he snickered, pleased with himself.
“You don’t have to come with me, you know,” Jasmine pointed out. “I don’t want you to force yourself to follow me around.”
“Well, I got a pact with ya, don’t I? I kinda gotta listen to ya now,” Mammon joked, but his trademark goofy smile didn’t meet his eyes. Stopping dead in her tracks, Jasmine turned to face him. Clearly taken off guard, Mammon flinched before stopping as well, angling himself slightly away from her defensively.
“Mammon, I made you a promise that I wouldn’t use our pact for anything bad,” she reminded him, “And I intend to keep that promise. I don't want me holding power over you to mean you think you need to listen to everything I say now.”
“Ya don’t mean that. Everyone wants ta hold power over a demon, and what’s the point of it if ya don’t get anythin’ outta it?” he frowned, closing his eyes as he spoke as if it was an uncomfortable truth he had grown to accept.
“I do mean that,” Jasmine refuted, taking a step closer, “And even if I want to have power over someone, I don’t want to force them to do anything they don’t want to do.” Seeing Mammon take a step back again, she paused before continuing. “I heard you like bets, Mammon.”
“Bets? The hell’s that gotta do with anythin’?” he asked incredulously, turning toward her again.
“Less of a bet, and more like a… deal. Until you give me express permission to, I won’t use a pact order on you unless I feel it’s absolutely necessary.” Jasmine took a deep breath, noting the look of surprise on Mammon’s face.
“What’s the catch?” Mammon asked, eyes widening, but his brows were still furrowed, and he seemed like he was bracing for Jasmine to take the promise back or impose some horrible drawback.
“What do you mean?” Jasmine tilted her head slightly, looking at him with an expression that conveyed a mix of emotions— not pity, but more of a concern for the things he had to have experienced previously to hold such a negative view of pacts. His actions made it seem like he thought of them as nothing more than an exchange. He got his credit card, and she got complete power over him— like being constantly beneath people was an expectation he had developed over time.
“Ya don’t get nothin’ from not usin’ my pact, so why would ya?” he questioned, trying to appear unbothered by the situation. His shoulders were forcibly relaxed, but Jasmine could see the tension in the way he moved— jilted, uncertain, his hands looking for something to grab onto and his eyes not seeming to land on anything for too long.
“Because I don’t want anything from you. Because I want you to trust me,” she refuted, “And until you do, I don’t want to use our pact to make you do anything.”
“Sure, whatever. It’s a deal, then,” Mammon relented, but he still seemed like he didn't trust that she would follow through. After all, to him, there was no real reason for her to. Jasmine didn’t let herself get discouraged, though; she made a promise, and she intended to show Mammon that being taken advantage of wasn’t normal.
“Oi, human. Purgatory hall is just that way,” Mammon called out, stopping suddenly and pointing to a street not too far from them. “I’ve got places to be, though, so I ain’t takin’ ya the whole way there.”
“Okay,” Jasmine agreed, “Just let Lucifer know where I am for me, please. I don’t think either of us want a replay of yesterday.”
“Y-yea, sure,” Mammon replied, seemingly surprised that she had agreed so easily. Was he testing her? She supposed it didn’t particularly matter. He quickly turned and walked away, shaking his head muttering something about dumb humans and being naive. Feeling a small smile form on her face, Jasmine continued walking in the direction Mammon had pointed her in. Surely enough, she saw the same house she had been to previously with Simeon not too far from where she was.
Coming up onto the front porch, she knocked on the door before waiting a few seconds. She could hear scuffling from inside, and someone running to get the door. When it opened, however, she didn't recognize the person there. A boy had opened the door, looking no older than ten or so years old. He had light, almost platinum blonde hair, with bangs that brushed against his eyebrows. Most notably, however, he wore a white beret with gold accents, and a small golden charm in the shape of two diamonds hanging from it. Seeing her, he looked surprised and a bit scared before quickly shutting the door, and she could hear him running further into the house.
“Simeon! There’s someone at the door,” Jasmine could make out being yelled from inside, the slightly more high-pitched child's voice carrying further than it otherwise would. Hearing a muffled reply from someone who she assumed was Simeon, Jasmine heard footsteps approaching the door again, calmer this time.
“Jasmine, I thought it was you,” Simeon smiled, greeting her as he opened the door. “That was Luke, but I’m afraid he didn’t know what you look like yet.”
“That’s alright!” Jasmine reassured, walking in and taking her shoes off as Simeon held the door open for her. “Did Solomon tell you I’d be here?” she asked, looking around. The little angel was peeking out from behind a corner, and quickly darted his head out of sight as she made eye contact with him. Cute, Jasmine thought.
“No, Solomon had… neglected to inform us of such plans,” Simeon shook his head, laughing lightly. “I’ll show you to his room,” he offered, tilting his head further into the house.
“Thank you, that’d be great,” Jasmine thanked, following Simeon through several hallways. The light blue theme that the entire house was centered around became less prominent as they entered the more personal areas of the house. Stopping in front of one of the doors in the hallway, Simeon raised a hand to knock.
“Solomon?” he called out, “Jasmine is here to see you.”
“Coming!” yelled a voice from inside the room. Opening the door slowly and peeking his head out, Solomon smiled widely at the two. “You’re here! Come on in,” he greeted Jasmine, opening the door and walking back inside. Bidding goodbye to Simeon, Jasmine entered the room and closed the door behind her. Of all the things she’d seen so far, this wasn’t bad, but it was still unusual for a bedroom.
As a whole, it resembled a library repurposed as a laboratory, save for the bed shoved into the corner of the room, out of sight. There were clocks hanging from the ceiling on thin, golden chains all around the room, as well as several chandeliers. The room was colder than the rest of the house, for some reason, and Jasmine could feel a chill everywhere the thick RAD uniform jacket didn’t cover. She saw Solomon sit down on a couch and turn around to face her, gesturing for her to sit down next to him.
“First of all,” he began as she sat down, “We need to get you to manifest some magic.”
“And how do we begin going about that?” Jasmine asked.
“Sit comfortably; you can put your feet up on the couch if you’d like, or sit crisscross, however you want,” he instructed. Doing so, she sat criss-cross applesauce and leaned back slightly on the side of the couch, now facing Solomon fully. “Perfect,” he nodded, doing the same. “I’ll guide you through activating your magic, and you can work on doing it again yourself later. Are you okay with me holding your hand?” he requested, smiling reassuringly while holding out his hand to her.
“That’s fine,” Jasmine replied, placing her hand in his tentatively. It was just as cold as the first time she had touched him, but she forced herself not to flinch.
“Sorry, I know I run cold,” Solomon apologized, laughing, “Side effect of not being so human anymore, I suppose.”
“Not being so human anymore?” Jasmine parroted.
“The large amount of pacts I've amassed over the years, as well as some… unfortunate events have resulted in me being around for far longer than I should have,” he sighed, and for the first time, Jasmine thought about how old he could be. His hair was stark white, but it didn't seem dyed, and people had mentioned him being an ancient sorcerer. She’d assumed they were joking, but now she thought that maybe they were being serious.
“How old are you?” she probed, trying to glean any clues she could from his appearance.
“I'm not sure. After a few centuries, you lose count,” he chuckled, “And I’ll be around until something kills me.”
“So… have you been around since the middle ages?” Jasmine wondered.
“A little longer than that,” he replied, his thumb now absentmindedly brushing against the back of Jasmine’s hand.
“Longer? What are you, King Solomon the Wise?” she questioned, but her joking suspicion was confirmed as she felt his hand suddenly still.
“And what if I was?” he teased, looking at her with a careful gaze.
“I mean, it would make sense,” Jasmine admitted, “but it’s not like it changes much. What’s one more immortal being I know nothing about?”
“I suppose you aren’t wrong,” he smiled, “But if you want to have a fighting chance, let’s get on with the thing I actually brought you here for.”
“Yea, sure,” Jasmine agreed. “You said you would guide me?”
“Correct,” he confirmed, running his free hand through his hair before placing it on top of hers, sandwiching it in between his. “Close your eyes. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything.”
Following his instructions, she shut her eyes. Nothing happened for a few seconds. Suddenly, she felt a warm, tingling sensation on the back of her hand where her pact mark with Mammon was, the same one Solomon was currently holding.
“There. Imagine a metaphorical string, coming from your soul, the very center of your being, and stretching far, far away to wherever Mammon is right now,” he spoke softly.
“What did you do?” Jasmine asked softly. “It feels warm, now.”
“I’ve imbued some of my magic into your soul temporarily, so that I can show you how it feels to call upon your own, or a pact-mate’s, magic,” he explained. “That’s the feeling of your pact with Mammon activating. Now focus.”
Slowly, she felt something come into focus in her imagination. A string, small and yellow, and although she couldn’t see where it led, she knew it went in the direction of Mammon. It was wispy, and acted as more of a guide than something tangible she would be able to interact with.
“Perfect. The string between you and your pact-mate will become stronger and easier to use over time,” Solomon explained. “Right now, however, we aren't trying to do anything big.”
“What are we trying to accomplish, then?” Jasmine inquired.
“I want you to feel that string in your imagination. Can you feel how it’s magic thrums?” he asked. It didn’t feel very strong, but if she focused, it had a strange, staticky feeling that she could almost feel pulsing under her skin. Seeing her nodding her head in the affirmative, Solomon continued. “Now, imagine making a small light appear in between us, and try to push that feeling into the thought of the light appearing.”
Jasmine thought of a small, warm light, the size of a candle flame. Focusing on the weird feeling she felt coursing through her, she tried to direct it outside of herself. Suddenly, something within her almost felt like it snapped, and she opened her eyes to see a fire-like light swirling around the room. Solomon quickly removed his hand, starting to mutter something under his breath, and Jasmine could see the ghostly white tendrils of what she assumed to be his magic surround her flames. Wherever his magic came into contact with hers, it seemed to make hers smaller and weaker, but she could feel that thrumming feeling still continuing, making more light spring up around the room.
“Jasmine, if you don’t stop, you’re going to pass out,” Solomon gasped, a sweat breaking out at his brow.
“I… I don’t know what's happening—” Jasmine exclaimed, and the feeling under her skin only grew stronger with her panic.
“Breathe,” Solomon told her, ceasing his attempts at restraining her magic. “Look at me,” he instructed, waiting for her to meet his gaze before continuing. “You’re fine. What’s happening is that you managed to unlock magic that we didn’t know you had within you, making the spell you just cast much more powerful than intended,” he explained.
“How– how do I stop it?” Jasmine asked, still looking around the room. Her lights had grown brighter, making the chandeliers around the room entirely useless, and she could see the clocks hanging down swinging from the wind that had begun to pick up in the room.
“Here,” Solomon took her hand, and she could feel the warmth on her pact mark again. “Close your eyes and imagine that space where you saw that string again. Don’t worry about the room, it’s just light, nothing is going to happen.”
Imagining her connection with Mammon again, she saw the string glowing a faint yellow. Most importantly, however, the area around her had taken on a bright, dusty sage green glow that hadn’t been there previously. Trying to breathe normally again, she focused on calming the shining light into more of a gentle glow.
All of a sudden, she felt some kind of strange calm wash over her as a warm hand was placed onto her shoulder— similar to the warm comfort she had felt emanating from Simeon. Eventually, after a solid minute of sitting there in near-silence, she could see the last vestiges of the light in the room disappear from behind her eyelids. Opening her eyes again, she could see two concerned faces in front of her. Blinking a few times to clear her vision, Simeon and Solomon came into focus.
“Are you alright, little lamb?” Simeon asked her, gently rubbing her shoulder.
“I’m just glad I didn’t ask you to cast a flame spell,” Solomon joked. Jasmine saw Simeon roll his eyes, but still give a small smile at the sorcerer's attempt at humor.
“What– what was that?” Jasmine questioned, looking between the two of them in confusion. “That… warm feeling, and what just happened with my magic,” she clarified.
“That warm feeling you felt was Celestial magic,” Simeon explained. “It’s a natural calming effect that angels have on humans specifically.”
“As for your magic,” Solomon chimed in, “You’re extremely magically affluent. I'm shocked you didn’t notice it beforehand.” Looking at Jasmine, he put a hand up to his chin in thought. “I feel as though you may need a more… powerful tutor.”
“And who, exactly, do you propose?” Simeon asked with an expression of shock. “You were chosen specifically because of your magical proficiency,” Simeon argued.
“Barbatos,” Solomon stated. “As powerful as I am, he beats me on all measures, especially raw magical power. The reason I was having… difficulties… is, well, the type of magic she possesses.”
“There’s different types?” Jasmine asked, leaning her head against the couch she was on, suddenly very tired.
“A few,” Solomon began, “Usually the major distinction is between Infernal, Celestial, or Human.”
“Well, mine would be human, right?” she guessed.
“Typically, yes,” Simeon sighed, “But there are certain… unusual cases.”
“What he’s saying,” Solomon butt in, “Is that you have a lot of non-human magical power, that’s probably hereditary.”
“Uh-huh…” Jasmine trailed off, feeling sleep trying to take her.
“Crap,” she heard Solomon say, feeling hands wrap around her as her eyes closed. “I forgot how bad magical exhaustion can be when it’s your first time,” he muttered, picking her up. Feeling herself get carried, she heard Luke’s childlike voice worrying about her as they moved through the house. Trying to pay attention to what Simeon and Solomon were speaking about in hushed tones, she ended up slipping under the pull of lethargy that was trying to encase her.
Chapter 7-- Secret Brothers and Mysterious Butlers
SERIES MASTERLIST
⏳ synopsis: There's a suspicious lack of a seventh brother, Jasmine realizes, but Beel promises to explain sometime later. Jasmine goes through a school day, realizes just how pretty she finds Barbatos, and gets dragged into tutoring with Solomon.
⏳ word count: ~4000
The next day at school, Jasmine got even more stares than the day before. It made sense that having a pact would draw attention to her, but this time, she didn’t feel like she was at risk of being maimed. Cold, calculating glares had turned into looks of hesitance and trepidation, and she had been given a slight berth in hallways, as opposed to the previous day’s purposeful shoving and shouldering. The day had been rather uneventful, but she did notice that many students were absent from class. She had heard something about an upcoming event that some students chose to help out for.
Today, with their new-found pact, Mammon had taken his guardianship role slightly more seriously. Or at least as seriously as someone like him could take a more-or-less babysitting job. He stuck with her for most of their classes together, even if he did grumble all the while. However, at lunch time, Mammon had decided to frolic away once again, most likely to place bets or just skip class.
“C’mon, you won't even notice I'm gone!” Mammon pleaded, watching as Jasmine picked up her tray of food from the cafeteria and started walking towards an empty table. “I’ll even come back after lunch, I swear! Lucifer won't even notice—”
“You know full well Lucifer will find out immediately,” Jasmine interrupted, setting down her tray with a clatter and sitting down. As soon as she looked down at her plate, she felt a gust of wind pass behind her. “Mammon, stay,” she commanded, the demon in question jerking back toward her involuntarily.
“H-urk! Jeez, human, ya really know how to keep a demon on a tight leash, huh?” Mammon hissed, slowly being released from the confines of the order.
“I’m making you stay with me for your benefit, not mine,” Jasmine sighed, gently tugging Mammon by his jacket down toward one of the cafeteria chairs. “Remember what Luci did yesterday when he found out you ran off?”
Mammon sat down, turning pale as a ghost. “He’s gotta be the strictest person alive, jeez..” he grumbled, rolling his eyes and slumping into the table. “Other than Barbatos, that is... man, that guy’s terrifying,” he shivered, running a hand through his hair anxiously.
“Are they strict, or do you just keep breaking rules for no reason?”
“Oh, lay off it, would’ya?” Mammon complained.
His whining was immediately followed by the metal clanking of several trays being set down. It seemed as though some of the other brothers had found them, with Satan entirely engrossed in a book (that had an incredibly cliche magnifying glass on the front cover), Asmodeus checking his reflection in a pocket-mirror to adjust his hair, and Beelzebub shoveling down food from three different trays at borderline concerning (and sickening) speeds.
“So, hun,” Asmo began, looking up from his reflection. “Out of all of us, who would you want a pact with next the most?” he asked, peering up at her through his delicate lashes and wavy rose-gold hair.
“Oh, I’d like to hear what you have to say about this, too,” Satan added, reluctantly setting down his book and turning his attention to the conversation. Eyes glued to the rapidly decreasing amount of food on Beel’s plate, Jasmine contemplated her answer. As much as she would like a pact with any of them, she had to say that she would prefer Lucifer or Satan. However, neither of those were realistic choices; they didn’t seem like the type to make a contract with someone that they had little to no knowledge of. From what she’d observed of the brother’s interactions so far, those two had the highest regard for privacy, decorum, and personal autonomy of the six.…the six?
But unless she had developed sudden-onset dementia, she clearly recalled there supposedly being seven brothers.
“Probably Levi, we made an agreement, after all,” Jasmine responded, mind not fully present. She could hear Satan and Asmodeus commenting on her choice, as well as Mammon occasionally chiming in and getting berated verbally by the others, but she couldn’t bring herself to fully focus on their conversation anymore.
“Say, there's seven of you, right?” she interrupted, earning surprised glances from around the table.
“You mean of us brothers?”, “Yea, seven,”, “Sure is, hon~,” they responded, talking over each other. The only one who didn’t answer was Beel, who wasn’t eating anymore. Instead, he was looking at the table with an expression that could only be described as grief, or maybe regret.
“Who’s the seventh, then?” Jasmine pressed, immediately watching as their expressions closed off one by one, with Beel’s only tightening further.
“Say, hon, Satan and I really do need to get going,” Asmodeus said nervously, his laughter strained. “Our next class is on the other side of RAD, you know how it is~.” Satan, to his credit, only looked mildly surprised at Asmodeus's excuse before schooling his expression into one of calm concentration.
“Asmodeus is correct, we really must be going,” Satan added, picking up his lunch tray and tossing it into the trashcan nearby. “We’ll see you later, Jasmine,” he called, waving lightly.
“Hey! Don’t forget about me!” Mammon yelled, running after Satan and Asmodeus to catch up.
Only Beelzebub was left behind. Looking back from watching the three brothers leave the cafeteria, Jasmine made eye contact with Beel, who had been looking at her with a rather intense look in his eyes.
“They aren’t going the right way,” Beelzebub commented, glancing at the hallway they went down. “All of their classes are in the opposite direction.”
Jasmine breathed out a laugh, rolling her eyes slightly. “That makes sense. They seemed like they just wanted to get away from the conversation.”
Beel sighed, resting his head on one of his hands. Jasmine noticed that even through the uniform shirt, she could see how absolutely ripped he was. Combined with his otherwise large stature, he was a giant. A classic gentle giant, maybe? She’d never seen him get upset, only irritated because of his hunger.
“His name is Belphegor,” he said softly, looking down at his lunch tray and poking at the green beans on it with his fork. Jasmine almost didn’t hear him, but luckily, his strange demeanor had pulled all of her attention toward him.
“Did something happen to him?” she prodded after a prolonged moment of silence when she felt Beel wasn't going to speak again unprompted.
“I.. I shouldn’t talk about this. Lucifer would get mad,” he hesitated, drawing into himself.
“Why?”
“I can't say. But... later, if you’d like, I’ll show you his portrait in the HoL,” he offered, looking up at her with hopeful eyes.
“Message me after school when you’re free, alright? I shouldn’t be busy,” Jasmine responded gently, patting him on the shoulder while getting up. “I'll head to class, but you should finish eating. See you later?”
“Yea,” he nodded, picking his half-finished sandwich back up. “She yuw ‘ater,” he mumbled, mouth now full. Waving to Beel, Jasmine got up and continued on her way to her home economics class.
Walking inside, she immediately noticed the same green-haired man she had seen at the market the previous day standing next to Asmodeus and Simeon. Strange, she thought.
She hadn’t seen him at school the previous day. The three of them were all talking to each other, with Asmodeus seemingly having also just gotten there. Asmo was just setting his things down and sliding into an empty seat, while Simeon was already sitting, calmly leaning onto the desk in front of him. The green haired man was standing facing the door, and had locked eyes with Jasmine as soon as she had entered the classroom. He redirected his attention to the duo in front of him once he noticed Jasmine starting to walk towards them.
“Barbatos, surely it wouldn’t kill you to go out with us just oooonce, right? I get you have all of your super-important-butler-duties, but you’ve got to have some free time,” Asmo whined.
Was that who Barbatos was? He was the same man she saw at the market, but he didn’t introduce himself then. So that was how he knew to send her directions! He had seen her alright, even spoken to her, but she didn’t realize it was him.
“May I enquire as to who ‘us’ is? I don’t recall ever coming across Simeon at one of your more… frequently visited establishments,” Barbatos retorted.
“Barbatos?” Jasmine called out, tilting her head slightly to the side.
Simeon turned around to face her, smiling in greeting. “Jasmine! You’ve met Barbatos?” he asked, looking between the two of you with curiosity.
“Briefly, yes. It’s good to meet you properly, Jasmine. I apologize for not introducing myself the other day,” he answered, a tight-lipped smile on his face. It seemed like he was feeling a bit unwell, but it was hard to tell. If he was, then he was hiding it well. Recalling Lucifer wearing makeup to cover the dark circles under his eyes, she looked closer at Barbatos. Upon further inspection, she could see that he had makeup on, but his was natural-looking and flawless. The only thing that gave it away was his barely-visible eyeliner, as well as the matte finish under his eyes, probably from setting powder. His makeup wasn’t smudged like Lucifer’s was the other day; it was perfectly intact. Jasmine admired his self control in not touching his face.
“No worries, I’m glad we could meet now. Do you take this class?” she questioned. “I don’t recall seeing you yesterday.”
“I do, yes. I’m afraid I was rather preoccupied with assisting Diavolo in figuring some things out for the exchange program, but I’ve returned for the time being,” he explained.
Finally, Asmodeus chimed in. “Oooo, so busy all the time,” he teased, “No wonder all of the RAD girls are all over you~ You’re like the definition of the ‘mysterious butler’ trope.”
“Come on now, Asmodeus. We both know Barbatos hasn’t been in a relationship since we’ve known him. It’s unlikely he has the time for some fling,” Simeon added.
“I’m inclined to agree with Simeon. I really don’t have the time, nor the interest to date some random demon,” Barbatos agreed.
“Such a heartbreaker~” Asmo sighed dramatically, tipping his head back and putting the back of his hand to his forehead lightly, his perfectly manicured nails reflecting the soft light around the group. “The incubi are never going to recover when I deliver the news that they don’t stand a chance to win Barbatos’ affection…” he lamented jokingly, sitting back up and gently fixing his hair again.
“How unfortunate, truly,” Barbatos replied, smirking lightly. “Speaking of affections, however, how has Luke handled me cancelling our baking session for this week..?” Barbatos asked, his expression growing more concerned.
“He was somewhat downcast, but he trusts you enough to assume you had a good reason for doing so,” Simeon reassured, his gaze kind but cautious. His eyes were flicking between different parts of Barbatos, as though trying to piece something together through body language alone.
“That’s a relief,” Barbatos hummed, his pointer finger and thumb resting on his chin inquisitively. “Please reassure him that I had no ill intentions. I am simply… preoccupied, at the moment. I may not be able to entertain his desire to learn to bake for another few weeks.”
“Awwww,” Asmodeus cooed, “what have you taught the little chihuahua so far?”
“The chihuahua?” Jasmine questioned, lost.
Simeon chuckled and explained, “Luke tends to get a bit feisty, at times. Lucifer and the other brothers have taken to calling him a chihuahua, as the breed tends to be rather aggressive, but harmless.”
“And don’t forget the physical resemblance,” Asmo remarked, finally stopping examining his nails. He took out a small makeup back and a pocket mirror which he propped up onto some text books before continuing. “He’s just so tiny, and the fact that he has light blonde hair doesn't help, either.”
“I must admit, I’ve been privy to some scenarios where the comparison had seemed rather accurate,” Barbatos added.
“Don’t tell Luke I said this, but he really does resemble one at times,” Simeon agreed, laughing lightly.
“Luke is the second angel exchange student, right?” Jasmine asked, clarifying. She hadn’t met him yet, but she recalled Simeon mentioning him offhandedly when she visited Purgatory Hall.
“Yes,” Simeon confirmed, sitting up a bit straighter and looking toward the front of the classroom. “He really is sweet, but… He tends to have a bit of a prejudice toward demons.”
Noticing Simeon’s attention shift, Barbatos followed his gaze to the blackboard. Trying to see what was written on it for herself, Jasmine could only make out the blurry forms of letters. Turning back around, Barbatos seemed to have noticed her difficulty as he began speaking again.
“Today’s lesson seems to be an introduction to sowing techniques,” he summarized, mostly speaking to Jasmine.
“Dang it, well that’s not fair,” Asmodeus sighed, dropping his chin onto one of his hands that was braced against the desktop delicately, taking care not to touch his face any more than necessary. “You’ve got an advantage against everyone here, Barbatos.”
“Oh? How so?” Jasmine inquired, looking back at Barbatos, who was now sitting down at an otherwise empty desk. “Are you some kind of sowing master, Barbatos? she teased.
“I tend to take care of most of the clothing repair and creation for Lord Diavolo, as well some formal wear for the brothers,” Barbatos stated matter-of-factly, not lingering on the topic.
“Now, don't sell yourself short, Barbatos,” Simeon chastised, “There’s a reason you’re the one everyone goes to for help with their outfits.”
“Even me!” Asmo exclaimed, taking out his phone. “Here, look,” he said to Jasmine, pointing the screen toward her. It was a collage of outfits that ranged from chic and cute sweaters to elegant and formal suits. “That’s my collection of clothes I went to Barbatos for corrections on.”
“Ah, I recall that suit,” Barbatos commented, leaning over slightly to glance at Asmo’s phone. “I believe I made that one for Diavolo’s birthday ball.”
“Those are stunning,” Jasmine marveled, leaning closer to Asmodeus to get a better look. “You said you made them?” she asked, looking back toward Barbatos.
“I did, yes,” he replied, a faint blush visible at the very tips of his ears. “But no matter. Class is about to begin. Do you have all of your required materials?”
“There are required materials for this class?” Jasmine asked hesitantly, frowning.
“No worries, I can share some of mine. I have extras, just in case something comes up,” Barbatos reassured, reaching for his own bag that she hadn’t noticed previously. “You can sit here, if you’d like, unless you have somewhere else you would like to sit instead.”
“If you don’t mind, that would be great,” Jasmine sighed in relief. Walking to the desk behind the angel and Asmodeus, she sat down next to Barbatos, on his right. She set down her backpack, and when she looked back up, Barbatos had pulled out a small sowing kit for himself.
“What color would you like?” he inquired.
“Pardon?”
“You’ll need a sowing kit. Do you have a color preference?” he explained, reaching into his own bag once again.
“Um… green, I guess?” Jasmine responded, somewhat taken aback by the question. She watched as he reached into the bag, and within seconds, produced a pristine, sage green sowing kit with gold accents. It was beautiful, but it only raised more questions. The bag itself was rather small— that many things couldn’t possibly fit inside.
“How did you— what?” she spluttered, looking at Barbatos incredulously. He didn’t answer, only smiled mysteriously and turned to face the front of the classroom. The teacher had finally arrived, and called for the class's attention as soon as they were noticed by a few people.
During the instruction, the teacher showed everyone some simple stitches that could be done easily by hand. Jasmine got the hang of it rather quickly, but there was one stitch that she, for some reason, couldn't figure out. The spacing wasn’t quite right, and she kept having to push the needle through parts of fabric where thread was already pulled through, making her almost prick herself with the needle several times. Noting her struggle, Barbatos decided to come to her aid.
“May I?” he requested permission to touch her, gloved hands hovering near hers.
“Please,” Jasmine pleaded, growing more and more frustrated as she kept failing.
Gently repositioning her fingers, barely even touching Jasmine’s skin, Barbatos guided her into holding the needle in a way that allowed her more precision to slip it through the holes in the fabric and between the thread. The innocuous touch, however, made goosebumps break out on Jasmine’s arms, suddenly keenly aware of how attractive she found the man before her. His teal asymmetrical bang hung down between them, almost glowing in the soft light, and the fabric of his pristine white gloves felt unusual on her skin.
Feeling her gaze, he looked up, emerald-green eyes glinting— warm, and yet still somehow notably inhuman, they reflected the warm yellow coming from the lamps around the room. He quickly yet elegantly removed his hands and leaned back away from her, pulling the cuffs of his gloves down subconsciously.
“O-oh, thank you. That’s… much better, actually.” Pushing aside the tingly feeling she’d gotten, Jasmine tried to do the stitch with the new grip on the needle, and actually managed to push it through the thin gaps in the threads much more precisely than before.
“I’m glad I could be of service,” Barbatos responded, smiling slightly before returning to his own circle of fabric.
The rest of the class continued without many interruptions, and soon, the bell rang to leave.
“Here, Barbatos,” Jasmine called out. Holding out the green sowing kit he had given her, she offered it back to him.
“Oh, there’s no need for that. You can keep it,” he declined, gently pushing the box back toward her. “If you’re worried about not using it, then just keep it in your bag for this class.”
“It’s really nice, honestly, but I don’t think I have enough space in my backpack…” Jasmine showed him her bag that was already getting difficult to carry with how many textbooks were in it.
“Very well, then,” Barbatos acquiesced, huffing a laugh quietly. “I’ll keep it until the next time you need it, if you’d like.” He took the box gently, and set it into his own bag gently, somehow finding room for it.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, taken aback. “Thank you, you really don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind. I manage most of Lord Diavolo’s things already; a little box isn’t much of a hassle,” he reassured, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “I believe your next class is Potions, correct?”
“It is,” Jasmine confirmed, unsure as to how he knew.
“It’s my next class as well. Come, I can walk you.” Gesturing for her to follow, he led her through the hallways to the Potions classroom. Following him, Jasmine noticed the demons in the hallway giving both of them a wide berth. That had already been the case this morning, thanks to her new-found pact, but now it was even more prominent. Finally reaching the Potions room, Barbatos opened the door and stood to the side to let her through, bowing slightly, a teasing smile on his face.
“Thank you,” Jasmine muttered shyly. Nodding to acknowledge her response, Barbatos closed the door behind them and entered the classroom, walking toward a particular section in the back. Following where he went, Jasmine saw Solomon and Satan once again. They weren’t arguing, this time, instead simply appearing to be having a friendly discussion about something. Starting after the butler, she approached the table they had all gathered at. Catching her gaze, Solomon raised his hand to wave at her.
“Well if it isn’t my favorite fellow human!” Solomon called out. Noticing her as well, Satan nodded in her direction.
“Good to see you, Jasmine.”
“She’s the only ‘fellow human’ here, Solomon,” Barbatos remarked, setting his things down.
“And that makes her my favorite one, of course,” Solomon replied, not missing a beat.
“Good to see you all too,” Jasmine greeted. “Why did everyone seem so reluctant to come near you, Barbatos?” she questioned, recalling what had just occurred in the hallway.
“Haha!” Solomon laughed suddenly. “I guess you wouldn't know, would you?” After Jasmine only raised an eyebrow at him, he continued. “Barbatos is one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, so people try not to cross him willy-nillly.”
Looking at Barbatos again, she thought about what Solomon had just said. She was less surprised than she probably should have been, but Barbatos exuded an aura that made her believe the new information easily. Something about him just seemed… ancient— years that piled up into something that was akin to pure skill, knowledge, and experience.
“And I see you took my advice as well,” Solomon remarked.
“What?” Jasmine asked, confused. She didn’t recall him giving her any advice the other day.
“Your pact with Mammon,” he explained. “Now, demons aren’t looking at you like an easy snack anymore.”
“How did everyone find out about that so fast..?” Jasmine questioned, sighing while sitting down in the seat next to Barbatos.
“Demons can feel when a human has a pact,” Satan chimed in. “The more powerful the demon, the stronger that feeling gets,” he explained. “And you just so happened to make your first pact with the second most powerful of us brothers.”
“That... makes more sense,” Jasmine pondered, rubbing her thumb over the thin, black lines making up Mammon’s symbol on the back of her hand. “Why would having a pact stop someone from hurting you, though?”
“A pact with a demon symbolizes holding power over them,” Barbatos stated. “If you were able to cast magic, you would also be able to utilize the demon’s power when doing so.”
“And you said you have seventy-two of them?” Jasmine asked incredulously, looking at Solomon.
“I do, yes,” he responded, smiling mischievously. “The only two you would know of, however, are Asmodeus and Barbatos.”
“You two have a pact?” she looked between the demon and human in front of her.
“We do, yes,” Barbatos replied, rubbing his temple as though he had a headache.
“Oh, come on, Barbatos, you know you love me,” Solomon drawled, throwing his arm around Barbatos’ shoulders. He got shrugged off immediately, and ended up awkwardly putting his hand on his hip instead. “Speaking of magic, Jasmine,” Solomon continued, “I was requested to tutor you.”
“By whom?” raising one eyebrow, she questioned, “And why?”
“Everyone’s favorite trio; Barbatos, Lucifer, and Diavolo himself,” Solomon winked, leaning against the desk now. “They’re worried about you not being able to keep up with course material, having never used magic and all.”
“That makes sense,” Jasmine hesitated, “but how does one even start something like that..?”
“I believe your pact with Mammon has already lightened the workload quite a bit,” Barbatos pointed out.
“I suppose it would work as quite an effective magical powerhouse,” Satan agreed, thinking out loud, “That’s usually half the issue when teaching someone magic— a lack of magical power to draw on.”
“Exactly,” Solomon confirmed, “So what do you think about meeting me after school sometime to try and get you a bit of a leg up?”
“I think that would definitely be helpful,” she relented, feeling a bit of trepidation about having to take on something so new to her.
“Perfect! See you at six, Purgatory hall.” Solomon turned around to face the front, and the bell rang to start the period.
⏳ synopsis: Jasmine and Leviathan finally found Mammon's most treasured possession, and with it, her first pact is made. Barbatos is... having some of his own troubles.
⏳ word count: ~2000
“Leviathan, why are you under the table?”
Leviathan had messaged Jasmine a bit ago asking to meet him in the kitchen, so after changing out of her school uniform, she had done exactly that. Except now, after entering the kitchen, she could see Leviathan’s very conspicuous purple hair crouched next to the pots and pans stored under the island table.
“Shhh! What if someone hears us?” Leviathan whisper-yelled, ducking further under the cover of the tabletop. “Did you even check if anyone was around?” he asked, peeking up at her past his bangs and the stacks of cookware separating the two of them.
“I didn't see anyone. Why does it matter, anyway?” Jasmine responded, crossing the room to walk up to Leviathan's crouching form.
“What if someone sees us? I can't be seen with a.. a n-normie!” he hissed back, practically in the fetal position now.
“I think they'd pay more attention to the fact that you’re hiding under the table, Levi,” she leveled flatly. Sighing annoyedly, Levi finally got up, grumbling under his breath.
“What took you so long, anyway? If I call for you to meet me, you need to start getting there yesterday .” he whined, rolling his eyes. “No, start running, actually!” he exclaimed, laughing at himself.
“I was changing. What did you need?” Jasmine sighed, starting to wonder if she was regretting coming here in the first place.
“I wanted to talk to you about Mammon’s card. You said you talked to Lucifer today, right?” Levi asked, suddenly lighting up. Most likely alight with the hope of getting his money back, Jasmine thought.
“Yep. He said something about a cold place?” she responded, hoping Leviathan would be able to get more from that than she was.
“A cold place.. Frost Nightmare Peak? It’s the only cold mountain in the vicinity,” he mumbled to himself. “It reaches temperatures of less than -200 Celsius, though, way too cold for any demon to go up there.”
“Maybe let’s start with some more.. accessible options?” Jasmine suggested worriedly.
“Oh! Maybe..” Levi exclaimed, suddenly starting toward the fridge. Opening the top part of it, which seemed to be a freezer, he rummaged through several piles of ice, ice cream, and other frozen foods. “Found it!” he exclaimed, holding up a fist-sized chunk of ice. Jasmine could see the blurry form of a credit card from inside it, evidently in black and gold. So this was Mammon’s most prized treasure? She supposed he was the 'Avatar of Greed', so it made some kind of sense.
“How-” Jasmine started, walking up to Leviathan and closing the refrigerator door, “-did you manage to think of the freezer, of all places.”
“Knowing Lucifer, he’d want to capitalize off of Mammon’s idiocy and put it somewhere no one would look,” he explained, shrugging. “And he has a bit of a penchant for word games,” he continued. Spinning around suddenly, he started toward the kitchen sink and turned on the hot water, filling up a bowl with it. “He’s like a game character that keeps giving you riddles you didn’t ask for.”
"Who doesn't love a good riddle?" Jasmine remarked offhandedly.
"Me," Leviathan shot back, rolling his eyes. "They're only fun when you get some kind of reward for solving them, like in video games that give you cool loot or secret areas to explore."
"Aren't we literally doing this so that we can get you your money back?" she retorted.
"..."
"Did you forget?" Jasmine clipped, staring at Leviathan incredulously.
"Noooo, I do want my money back. But honestly, I kinda think it'd be funny if you got a pact with the second strongest brother on your second day here," he replied, smirking shyly.
"Whatever. I like riddles, though; solving them is usually rewarding," Jasmine continued, "and a lot of the time, video games use them to give hints as to how to solve some big mystery. If you're smart about it, you can figure out what needs to be done before anything bad can happen."
_______
Barbatos didn’t dream often. He tried not to, in fact. His dreams never ended well. Horrors from his past haunted him, and his ability to see through time, while not in use most of the time, easily crept up on him when he was asleep. There was no way to tell what he would see, or what kind of nightmare he would be forced to relive, so Barbatos typically chose to postpone sleep until he was barely on his feet, letting himself tire until he could fall into his bed, and simultaneously, a dreamless abyss.
But recently. Recently, his nightmares had changed.
Instead of the screams coming from his own throat as he fell through the heavens downward, he heard the screams of someone else. That exchange student had brought nothing but complications for him so far, and although he usually wouldn’t mind doing things for others, the feelings he got in his dreams made things... complicated.
Desperate screams for help being cut off as a blood-curdling crack of bone breaking (wrong, wrong-) rings through the air, hysterical laughter accompanying the sound of a limp body (wrong, it sounds so wrong-) hitting the floor in a sickening symphony of madness and bloodlust-
He couldn’t keep this up. The worst part is that he knew what a dream meant for him. His dreams were always of events- past or future. But since the exchange student had just arrived, well. That left only the future.
But when it wasn’t the night terrors, there were visions of her. Not dreams, no- these were memories. Of a future him, perhaps, or a him in another lifetime. He should know not to expect his own timeline to end up like the one he’d seen, but. Seeing her being so happy only made the nightmares feel worse.
“Barbatos!” called out a surprised voice, giggling laughter following soon after. “Why’d you do that?” they whined, still laughing between words all the while.
This was the dream where he had wanted to scare her as she entered the castle by appearing behind her once she walked in. He liked this one, it reminded him of the mischievous streak he had to push down so often to perform his duties well. But could he make it a reality? Would she even feel for him, in this reality? Would he?
It had been weeks of this cruel torture his mind liked to inflict on him. He was trying to find a way to guide the best timeline possible into existence, but something was preventing him from doing so. Whenever he tried to look into another door of his room, he often found it either locked, or he wasn't able to see any of its contents. This had been going on so long, he knew much more about her than he reasonably should, and yet only the things his mind would provide him with in fragments. The entire scenario was like a riddle with no clues; utterly impossible to solve.
He’d stopped sleeping all together, now.
Finding a way to prevent that fate from befalling her was more important than any consequence it could have for him.
_______
“Uuuugh, this is taking so long!” Leviathan whined, practically shriveling onto the floor dramatically.
“Do you have a better idea?” Jasmine asked, tired of Levi’s constant complaints from the past... ten minutes. Great.
“Why don't we just microwave it? It’ll probably melt the ice faster,” he suggested.
“You’re just the king of great ideas, aren’t you,” Jasmine sighed, rolling her eyes. “A microwave would demagnetize the card.”
“You’re right, it would... I have an idea-”
“-seriously, what could you-”
“-MAMMON!” Leviathan yelled, putting the card encased in ice into the microwave and shutting the door, “WE HAVE YOUR CREDIT CARD!”
Almost immediately, they heard shuffling quickly approaching the kitchen. Sliding into the tiled room on black socks, Mammon grabbed the doorframe to keep himself from slipping.
“My card? Which one?” he asked, eyes wide and darting around the room.
“Your precious Goldie!” Leviathan snickered, covering his mouth with his hand, seemingly pleased with himself.
“My precious Goldie..! No way you have her! Lucifer took ‘er from me centuries ago!” Mammon exclaimed, finally noticing the microwave. Apparently, he could see far enough to make out the block of ice inside. “Goldie! My love! You actually found her!” he cried, running up to the microwave, only to be stopped in his tracks by Leviathan.
“Not so fast! I’m not giving you this card until you do something for me,” Leviathan said gleefully, stepping between Mammon and the card.
“Anything for my Goldie! Oh, baby, you’re finally back..”
“Anything?” Levi repeated.
“Yes! I’ll do anything to get her back into my hands,” Mammon said, eyes locked onto the inside of the microwave.
“Make a pact with Jasmine right now and I’ll give it back to you.”
“Of cour- wait, a pact?! No way!” Mammon bristled, eyes flickering between Jasmine and Levi incredulously.
“If you don't, I’ll microwave it,” Levi threatened, staring at Mammon smugly.
“You’ll demagnetize it, ya idiot!” Mammon hissed, looking at Leviathan with offense.
“That's the point. Don’t make a pact with her, and I’ll turn it on,” he said, threatening Mammon through his indigo-colored bangs.
“I-I ain’t making a pact with no lowly human!” Mammon recoiled, now looking at Jasmine with an unreadable expression.
She was still sitting on the counter, watching the events before her unfold silently. Seeing Mammon’s torn expression, she decided to make something clear.
“I'm only doing this because I need a way to make sure I can stay safe. Kind of like a warning to other people. I won't use the pact for anything bad, I can promise you that,” Jasmine cut in with a serious expression. “Only thing I’ll be doing currently is make you pay Levi back. Apparently, you’ve got a bit of a centuries-old debt going,” she teased, smiling gently at Mammon.
“Tch.. fine, I’ll do it,” Mammon acquiesced, averting his eyes. “But only for my baby, Goldie!” he defended, crossing his arms.
“Do it,” Levi urged. “You remember the incantation, right?”
“‘Course I do...”
_______
Diavolo was tired. His right hand man was tired. Most shockingly, his butler was tired, as much as he liked to pretend he wasn’t. Over the past week, the three had been diligently collecting all of the information that they could about Jasmine’s heritage. Barbatos had been given full permission to use his time powers as needed, while Lucifer and Diavolo were left sorting through mountains of family and legal records to trace back Jasmine’s family tree. Currently left at a standstill, they had reached the end of the legal records and had given over responsibility to Barbatos to trace the string back further.
All magic had a cost, however, and even innate abilities had drawbacks that could not be avoided. Combined with his recent difficulty sleeping, Barbatos had been running on empty. Like boiling an empty kettle, not only was it not productive, it could cause the kettle to break. Diavolo had already noticed the cracks in his butler’s normally impenetrable composure; it was only a matter of time before Barbatos burned out.
But for now, he needed to make sure that his exchange program didn’t fail. And unfortunately, he was starting to realize just how terribly frail humans were, and how difficult it would be to force demons to refrain from treating them as an easy meal. RAD taught magic classes, yes, but nowhere near at the pace for someone to learn to apply spells in their day-to-day life, especially with Jasmine being someone who had never had previous experience with magic. He was starting to see just how unusual of a specimen Solomon really was. The learning program offered at RAD was specifically designed for demons who were already familiar with the basic logics and concepts of magic. He really needed to talk to someone about getting them additional support for classes-
“My lord?” came a knock at the door. “I'm afraid there’s been a rather important development,” Barbatos called out, pushing open the door before he could respond.
“What is it, Barbatos?” Diavolo questioned, pushing his chair back and standing. By the tone of his butler's voice, this was important.
“Our exchange student has just made a pact with the Avatar of Greed, Mammon."
it is SO cute to me that he has that little purple pin on his jacket. like that’s his favorite color. he just wanted to have a little splash of it on his outfit, for funsies, and i love him for it :C
