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IT IS BREAK TIME, SATAN CAME complaining about the fact that the meetings for the Anti-Lucifer League can barely be held due to the lack of places.
It's quite hard to stop yourself from teasing Satan at his state, you take your D.D.D. out and entered the chat that the three of you formed.
You:
Why host a meeting when you can just do it in this group chat, genius?
Muffled snickers are heard behind you, which leads you to an exhausted demon stuffing his face in his cow pillow.
Satan deadpanned after reading the message.
❝Satan, if you don't stop deadpanning, I'll seriously b...burst--❞
At that moment the only thing that came across your mind is the word 'Shit'.
You're laughing so hard that you are holding onto your stomach, barely being able to breathe while banging on your desk.
Of course, the long-expected gust of wrath is emanated throughout the room.
†('ー'*)β☆*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ･*
❝As I was saying, we need a base to hold our meetings. ❞ Satan mumbled while speculating the map of the House Of Lamentation. Meanwhile, you perched next to him, grey as stone with blank eyes and Belphie utilising your lap as his pillow for napping.
It is 6 in the evening, the other two manage to sneak in your room before the others notice and proceeds to put some sort of charm without your consent that locks the door until the spell caster releases the charm.
You laid there pouting with two rolls of tears spilling out of your eyes. You're locked in without warning.
