I Just Attempted The Art Ending On TSP.

I just attempted the Art Ending on TSP.

I was multitasking - I was on a call, reading a book and doing another game log in. I was an hour in...and I messed it up.

𝘚𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘋𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

Pairing: Barbatos x Reader (referred to as [Reader])

Type: Fluff (Christmas/Holiday/Winter fluff)

Word count: Around 2k.

Author’s note: Heyy! Thanks for checking this out. I’m obsessed with the new Barbatos card (the image for this fic) and it’s a shame I haven’t got it ugh. Happy holidays! 🎄

TW: A bit of alcohol but it’s just Asmo being a bit tipsy.

AO3 Link

It’s cold, yet there’s warmth inside you. An unsettled desire brings hope to the chill.

Just a glance at him and your cheeks heat up. 

Fog puffs out in warm breaths, reminding you of how a child would imagine it to be like a dragon’s. 

Just a glance at him and time stops . 

Snow is falling.

Climbing the ladder, you steady yourself, wrapping the final string of lights against a pole.

As the lights are turned on, illuminating the entirety of the demon lord’s castle, you rush down the steps, only to fall backwards in a flurry. As swift as a winter’s solitary breeze, you are caught in the arms of none other than the man you had been infatuated with the entire duration of decorating - Barbatos. 

“Easy does it. There you are.”

As he stabilises your weight in his arms, there is a comforting, lingering touch. 

“Ahem. My apologies.”

“It’s ok-“

But as you try to step away from his grasp, his hands let go too quickly, causing you to tumble headfirst into the snow. (What a cliché.)

“Oh dear. [Reader], are you quite alright?” 

“Ow.”

“Is that all you have to say? You seem to have taken more than just a tumble... It’s cold outside now. Allow me to take you home to warmth.”

“But-“

“If your concern is missing the final product of our efforts,” he unplugs it from the power source, “we can admire the lights later. I must prioritise your wellbeing. I will take you home.”

He ushers you away, not allowing a word more. 

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As you walk beside him, you wonder if he's cold.

“Hey-“

Nevermind . 

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind.”

“What was the matter?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Surely it must be something.” 

“It’s alright.”

“All right, whatever pleases you.”

“Now I feel bad.”

“Then tell me, what were you going to say?”

“I was going to ask if you were cold.”

“I’m unaffected by the cold. But thank you for your concern… and you?”

“Freezing.”

“Why hadn’t you said so earlier?”

“Huh? Why?”

Is he going to offer his coat? His hand? (In marriage? You wished) 

“I could have gotten someone else to assist me with the lights.”

Oh. Ohh . 

“I saw you and wanted to help.”

“How generous of you… You’re shivering now, [Reader].” 

“I’m fine. We’re only a few minutes away.”

“It’s nice of you to walk me back. You know, we haven’t spoken properly like…ever. I always just see you running around for Lord Diavolo…”

“Running around? Is that how you see me?”

“Just an expression, but yeah, basically.”

“I see. And yes, I suppose you’re right. We haven’t spoken properly since your arrival here at the Devildom.” 

“Well, except for during the power cut. Remember?”

The darkness. It feels trapping yet too open. You can’t run, but everything can move and catch you. Waiting for the knife, or claws, or something. Something in your back.

Especially in a realm full of demons. 

“You were very shaken. For someone who had borne with the Devildom’s sky for around three weeks, I didn't expect you to have a fear of darkness.”

“Thanks back then, by the way.”

“It was only natural that I, the only one present in the hall at the time, were to be the one to comfort you.” 

“And you did it very well, so thank you, again.”

“Anytime, dear.”

“What did you just say?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing.”

“You-“

“We are now reaching a part of the realm that is dark and is not lit with lamps. Watch your footing.”

A shudder, but not from the cold.

“Are you alright [Reader]?”

“No…”

The darkness shrouds you but it’s less like a hug and more like suffocation. 

“Ah, I see.”

He takes your hand.

It’s warm. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆

As you enter the lounge of the House of Lamentation, the change of temperature brings you to shiver again.

“[Reader]?”

“Hm? I’m fine.”

“You’re shivering.”

“Only slightly.”

“I shan't allow that.”

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Take a seat.”

“I said-”

“No. Not another word.”

“But-“

“What did I just say.”

He ushers you to the velvet couch and finds a conveniently placed blanket nearby to wrap around you. 

“Um…”

“What is the matter?”

“You’re acting like a doting mother.”

“I suppose I am.”

You share a laugh, his one much more muffled, and he leaves, “I’ll be right back [Reader]”.

The fireplace in front of you dances warmly. 

Dancing…oh yes, there was going to be a ball tomorrow. Apparently, Lord Diavolo hosts it every year.

What do you wear? You don’t have anything nice to wear and there isn’t any time to buy anything. Maybe you can borrow something from Asmodeus?

“I brought you a drink.”

Barbatos elegantly pours a generous amount of a deep scarlet liquid from a well-polished bottle (which seems that it could be the price of your home) and then one for himself.

“What is it?”

As he hands it to you, you smell a thick aroma of red wine and spices. The glass heats your frozen fingertips. However nice the feeling of warmth or even the gesture, you can’t accept it. You don’t like alcohol. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not really keen on alcohol.”

“Oh, I see,” he takes both wine glasses in his hand, and sets them on a table just as gracefully as he had made the drinks, “Ah right, I see that an alcoholic beverage wouldn’t have necessarily helped anyway, it would have left you dehydrated. Would you prefer something smoother? Like hot chocolate?”

“Yes, I would love that. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“It would be my pleasure. How are you feeling?”

“I told you earlier, I’m fin-“

It was the most inconvenient time to sneeze, but it’s not like you could hold it in. 

“I didn’t want you getting in a state of unwell, especially the day before Lord Diavolo’s ball, now here we are. Humans get sick so easily…” 

“I’m not sick, it was just a sneeze.”

“It’s a sign of the nasty presence of a virus and although it may have been dispersed through the sneeze, we don’t want to take the risk of late treatment. I’ll get your drink. You need warmth.”

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After a long night of indecision on treatment of your oncoming cold, warm drinks and conversation, you decide to retire to your room.

“Thank you, Barbatos.”

“Do you feel better now?”

You’ve given up explaining that it really was just a sneeze, so you just go along with it now. 

“Yes. Night night!”

“Goodnight.”

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The day of the ball. (Of course, this is how all romantic party settings are set to be described.)

You feel like a princess. Not that you have the clothing for it, but you feel like Cinderella - who technically didn't have a dress either. 

You remember one of the topics of conversation with Barbatos last night:

“Ah, I don’t even have a dress! What am I gonna do?”

“I can find one for you.”

“Would you really?”

“I have the capability of doing so, yes.”

“So last minute?”

“…being completely honest, I've had one prepared for you already.”

“What? For how long exactly?”

“The day after the power cut, when the ball was first announced.”

“Why?”

“I thought you might not have anything due to your abrupt arrival here.”

“Well, you were right. You’re always right.”

“Am I?”

He really is.

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll see if the attire I chose for you suits you as much as I thought it would, then I will count it as being ‘always right.’”

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He hasn’t given you the dress yet. You wonder when it will arrive. 

Just then, you notice something in the corner of your eye, hung on your wardrobe door.

It’s red. Your favourite colour. How did he know?

A label attached reads: 

“The red compliments your complexion really well and matches the theme of the ball. I do hope you find it suitable.

Signed, Barbatos. x ”

Kiss. A kiss at the end. 

But what has captured your attention more is how perfect the dress really is.

It’s like he knew you’d always wanted to wear a dress such as this one, and also how you don’t like to show off.

It’s the perfect line between elegance, glamour and comfort both physically and socially. 

It’s perfect.

He’s always right. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆

The ball passes, not quickly, not slowly, but just how something enjoyable would pass by in the present. 

You find yourself first at the buffet, as all parties should start with a satisfied stomach (the devil fondue was especially good, but your favourite was the dark chocolate berries from the human world), then in newfound confidence, you join the brothers to dance.

Mammon is the first to snatch you. It’s only natural, as he was your first. 

Satan and Mammon have a row, in which you have to break apart, only to be stolen by Asmodeus. 

In the final spin with Asmo, you find yourself in between Beelzebub and Belphegor, Belphie being a surprisingly good dancer, despite seeming lazy (Beel, not so much.)

Taken by the waist, Simeon guides you to Solomon whilst dancing (quite horribly, but it’s at a tremendous effort at the very least), and Solomon dips you, most likely having stolen the move from a dance show back in the human world. 

Luke asks to dance, and you let him spin you, before you realise you are now in the centre of the ballroom again. 

Lucifer asks to dance. Diavolo asks to dance.

Where is Barbatos? 

Yes, it was great having everyone fight for your attention; you felt adored and appreciated. It was fun. 

But why did you care so much about Barbatos? He was all you could think about. 

“[Reader], are you okay? You seem to be getting tired?”

“Sorry, Diavolo.”

“It’s alright.”

He guides you to the balcony.

“Perhaps get some quiet here.”

The cool breeze feels nice.

“I have to keep an eye on our guests. Have a great evening.”

“Thank you, you too.”

All the dancing has left you in a sweat, so you don’t notice the cold.

Your mind inevitably drifts back to the thought of Barbatos. He’s probably helping with serving guests. 

How romantic would it be that he joins you on the balcony? The lights of distant homes and of the decorations you had put up with him, colours moulding together, only your eyes on him, and his eyes on you. 

Not everything is convenient like that, unfortunately. But wouldn’t it be so romantic?

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆

“[Reader]”

“I was looking for you .”

Noticing your obsessive thoughts earlier, you had gone looking for Barbatos. You’re not surprised at all that you found him in the kitchen, sorting out drinks. However, what does surprise you is his lack of formality as he leans against the countertop, hand on his forehead.

He’s stressed. 

“My apologies, you haven’t caught me at the right time.”

He stands upright.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m quite alright.”

“Now, this is one of the moments where you’re wrong.”

He remains silent.

“You’re stressed aren’t you? I’m sure Lord Diavolo won’t mind if you take a break. There’s many other servers.”

Just as you say that, one walks in the room.

“I’ll take those drinks, Barbatos!”

This is definitely more conveniently timed than your sneeze earlier.

“Are you certain? All right.”

“So, Barbatos. How about that break?” you break in before he has even the slightest chance to start making new drinks.

“Alright, fine. Only because it’s you. Humans are so persistent that it's bothersome.”

“Sure.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⋆⁺₊❅⋆

What’s the best way to relax? 

“Barbatos, what do you want to do on your break?”

“First of all, I would like to tell you how stunning you look tonight.”

“Me? Really? I’m like a speck of dust compared to all of the other beautiful people in this hall.”

“I haven’t noticed. I seem to only have eyes for you.”

“That was horribly cringey.”

“I am aware. I evoke that statement.”

“Second of all, would you like to-“

Before he can finish, a drunken Asmo latches onto you.

“Hey, little lamb, are you enjoying the ball?”

“You’ve had way too much alcohol, Asmodeus, you reek of it,” Barbatos cuts in, pulling him off of you, somehow making it seem way less awkward. “I’m sorry, [Reader], allow me to quickly hand Asmodeus to Lucifer’s or Solomon's care.” 

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Over the night, Barbatos keeps getting interrupted. He always manages to find you, but every time he does, he seems to end up working again. 

“What happened to your break?”

“I am truly sorry, [Reader].”

You feel horrible.

Surely one moment away won’t cause havoc, right?

“Come with me.”

No guts to grab his hand, but you make sure to look behind you to see if he follows you.

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Your wine red dress trails in the snow as you head to the outside gazebo.

Barbatos attempts to pick it up, but you tell him it’s fine.

“You need to relax. It’s a party. I know you’re working, but still. You should enjoy it too.”

Only now do you notice his attire is a bit different to usual.

“Is that a new suit?”

“Yes. Lord Diavolo wouldn’t let me have it any other way.”

“It looks really good on you.”

“Thank you.”

“What did you want to do on your break earlier, before we were so rudely interrupted…many times…”

“I wanted to ask, would you like to dance?”

“Oh, well it’s a bit late for that now. The ball is just about to end, and we’re outside now. And I bet we’ll be interrupted when we go back in again.” 

“I wanted to dance with you. I don’t necessarily need music to do so. I’ve been left waiting for quite a while now so I really don’t care so much about the environment we will be in to do so anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Certain.”

One step. Two steps. In elegance you glide. His confident hands trail your lower back as he pulls you close to him. 

Once again you notice breaths puffing out like a dragon, the warmth of his meeting your cheeks. Noses just barley apart, he feels cold. 

“Are you cold now?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“It feels awkward without music.”

“I can hear it from afar, can’t you?”

“I can’t really focus on that right now.”

“Oh, really? Why?”

“We’re…very close right now.”

“This is the manner in which you dance with someone at such a formal gathering, is it not?”

“Very close.”

He pulls away, and lets you spin.

“Apologies. I suppose I was cold and had to hold you closer.”

“You just said you weren’t!”

“Fine.”

As you twirl once more he catches you and you hear the music in the distance stop. 

“That was the last dance.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to stop, does it?“

“Just how desperate were you to dance with me?”

“The whole night. Perhaps more.”

You pull out your D.D.D and it starts blasting a really embarrassing song.

“Shit- Sorry. Whoops. Ignore that. Um, give me a song.”

“I quite liked the sound of that one.”

“You’re joking. Give me a classical one, like the ones being played in the hall.” 

He recommends a song. 

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After your dance, the snow gets heavier. You’re trapped under the gazebo now. With him.

What a cliché! You can’t believe your luck!

“How was my dancing skills?”

“Marvellous.”

“Of course-“

Mocking a face of arrogance, you look up. But…

There’s mistletoe.

“You hadn’t noticed before?”

“And you had?!”

“Oh gosh. Alright.”

You notice his hand as it rides up your arm. His eyes deepen in affection.

He leans in. 

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“If you insist.”

“I insist.”

And colours blend as you wanted it to.

It's only your eyes on him, and his eyes on you. 

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End author’s note: I hope you enjoyed! I posted this just in time for Christmas…Happy holidays and have an amazing new year! 🎆

Speaking of new years, that reminds me of fireworks…hey, this is shameful advertising but check out my Diavolo fic based on fireworks. 🥰 LMAOO

Reuploaded with adjusted colours! I felt that the purple hues made him look a tad sickly 🥹

okay we need to have an intervention.

i've noticed that people don't leave the same kind of unhinged compliments under fanfics that visual artists usually receive (eg, "i want to eat your art"), so i've come up with a list that you need to start employing when your friends send you their WIPs and when your favorites update on ao3 but you're having a hard time commenting something that sounds intelligent and you still want to support them

"you're like if [famos author] (eg, Victor Hugo if the fic is angst) was into [fandom]"

"well THIS has been added to my pre-sleep daydream schedule"

"this fic invaded my mind and consumed my brain like a spore"

"I'M LOSING SLEEP OVER THIS ONE, FOLKS"

"yOu'Ve AlReAdY lEfT kUdOs HeRe"

"this fic has me scratching at my yellow wallpaper, it's so good"

"this fic has me checking under my floorboards for the heart of a kind man i murdered, it's so good"

"i'm making my parents read this"

"i know only one chapter is out so far, but i'm going to print this out, staple it together, and put it on my bookshelf next to the canon material"

"this fic gave me another mental illness"

(you can only do this one once) "i made an ao3 account specifically to bookmark this"

"i'm going to print this out so i can eat the words on the paper"

and a couple that are just nice (without the feral nature):

"i made a custom playlist to listen to while i read this fic"

"this fic reminds me of [song]"

"i really liked the part where [x], it really stuck with me"

"i really liked this line, [quote the line,] it was so well-written!"

artists: draw fanart of the fic!! it doesn't matter if you think your art skills are good and it doesnt matter if it's just a sketch!! let the author see it!!

make a moodboard!! for the fic!! let the author see it!!

toilet quartet!!!

Self-indulgent little thing :)