He blames himself for you getting hurt - Barbatos

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[ I know this might seem like an unusual choice for this character, but I feel really soft about the idea that you become Barbatos's best friend, and he's never really had someone he can be like that with before. ALSO one of my favourite Barbatos moments has to be during the Halloween event when he opened the door to the Demon Lord's castle... and you and Lucifer immediately start having this loud whispered conversation about whether to tell Barbatos about Diavolo's surprise party. And meanwhile Barbatos is just patiently standing there, holding the door open, probably having to politely pretend he can't hear you while you and Luci are having the most unsubtle stage-whispered debate about Barbatos right in front of him like the biggest dorks xD ^^;; ]

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Barbatos

When you wake, you're in the Demon Lord's castle. You're safe, but everything hurts.

The worst part of this day wasn't even getting attacked by demons, you think. It was the soft smile on Barbatos's face when he thought that he saved you, then his wordless plea as he choked your name, you slipped from his grasp, and he realised it had all gone wrong.

You try to sit up.

It had happened when you were out at the marketplace, that much you remember. Barbatos had been showing you all the little shops where he buys ingredients, he was pointing out all sorts of things, not because he needed them, but because he wondered if they might be of interest to you.

While Barbatos was occupied with a merchant, you subtly investigated the stalls outside to purchase a jar of tea Barbatos hadn't noticed. You had been looking forward to seeing his surprise at your small gift.

You had tucked the jar into your pocket, only to find several low-level demons surrounding you, they had been sure of a human presence in the market today. You stood frozen as you realised their ill-intent, the familiar grip of panic making you feel sick. But you barely had time to draw a breath before you heard a wisp of a snapping sound, you remember having the sad, silly thought that you didn't want Barbatos's present to break as you passed out.

Now, Barbatos is returning to your side with a tray and tea set. He takes a few quick strides toward you when he sees you're awake, then hesitates, frowning as emotion threatens at the corners of his mouth.

"How are you feeling?" Barbatos asks. He kneels next to you and places down the tea, his hands slightly unsteady. "Any dizziness, or nausea?"

You have a vague memory of Barbatos lifting you up off the ground, his tone wavering as he sounds scared- please... please forgive me. You have me... so please don't go...

"I... think I'm okay. But why would I be dizzy... or nauseous..." you trail off as Barbatos moves to lift the teapot, then has to stop and press his hands together to stop them from trembling. He's staring at the floor.

"Because you were stung by a demon's tail. During my effort to extricate you from danger," Barbatos tells you. He attempts to pour your tea again, liquid splashing unevenly around the saucer of your cup.

Gently, you reach to steady his hands, guiding the teapot down and then holding both of his hands in yours. You can feel him shaking.

"It wasn't your faul-"

"-it was my tail," Barbatos says. Instead of pulling away, you keep your palms pressed over the outside of his gloves. More of your memories come into focus as you take a few steadying breaths. Barbatos keeps his hands clasped together for want of something to hold onto, then he abruptly meets your gaze as he realises you're still holding on to him.

Suddenly, you realise why your only memory is of Barbatos looking utterly broken, why you can still hear his voice fading in and out, he'd never stopped talking to you as he carried you home. It had only taken a split-second for Barbatos to sense that you were afraid and needed him, and before you'd even finished calling his name, your assailants were collapsing in front of you faster than you could see what struck them. You'd turned to see Barbatos, the fraught, unguarded relief in his expression that he'd been there, that somehow he'd made sure you're alright. And then his smile faded as you slowly touched your shoulder, and he saw the cut in the fabric of your shirt where he'd hit you too.

Barbatos is staring at your hands comforting his, his head lowered in remorse. You've never seen him look so ashamed, and it hurts all the more because you're one of the only people for whom he always has a wry smile, you can always make his eyes narrow in amusement when he's trying to be serious.

"How can I even begin to apologise," Barbatos whispers, his voice low and pained. "You're being... very kind. And yet the only demon who hurt you today was me."

Softly, so as not to startle him, you reach forward and wrap your arms around him, drawing him against you in a hug. Barbatos stiffens, then makes a low sound that sounds like an exhale, he needs you but he doesn't know what to do.

"Barbatos, you're not the demon who hurt me," you whisper. "You're just... still my best friend. Who did his best to save me. And who actually did save me, you know."

Barbatos touches your elbow, looking at you with a sorrowful expression as you offer a soft half-grin.

"...you make me sound as if I'm your childhood neighbour," Barbatos says, not sounding quite as unmoved as he's aiming for.

"Childhood neighbour... the duke of hell..." you pull back and weigh both your hands as if to indicate these are easily interchangeable things, and Barbatos can't help a small smile. You're being lighthearted because he's being so hard on himself, and Barbatos knows you well enough to understand that he's forgiven, that against all reason you still care, that he hasn't forever lost your trust.

"I was... frightened," Barbatos says quietly.

"I know," you murmur back, because you know him well enough to understand that's the most he can say. Barbatos would never want to upset you by recalling it, but you remember him whispering that you're his best friend too while he carried you back, he even told you that one embarrassing story about his early days as a butler that you always begged him for and he'd sworn never to share.

One day you might surprise him, because you still vaguely remember it. But only if he really needs cheering up.

"You have me too," you whisper. "I'm not letting go."

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