summary; belphie thinks about what forgiveness really means and decides to meet you halfway this time
pairing; gn!reader x belphegor
genre; angst with a "happy ending" / slight character study
word count; 2,2k
warnings; references to nightmares and anxiety, belphie being generally horrendous at not being a brat
Belphie knows he's being childish, but he doesn't understand why you are being so stubborn about this.
The night had started simple, the way every night started, with you on your bed one hand scrolling through your phone, the other patting Belphie's unruly hair as he lay content on your lap. Belphie liked nights like these when it was just the two of you, none of his brothers to whine about why Belphie got to be the one getting cradled so gently in your arms⏤he supposed the only downside of this was the fact there was no one to look incredibly smug at. Just you and him, the steady sound of your heartbeat lulling him into sleep. He felt your warmth as he closed his arms around you, nights like these felt right. If Belphie was ever supposed to end up somewhere in the grand scheme of things, he felt it was here being held in your arms as you hummed a soft lullaby.
Then something happens, and it happens quickly.
For a moment you still, your melody cuts short and your hand freezes above him, then you sigh and it’s a heavy sigh, one filled with worries because as soon as you release it you move under him, tense.
Belphie doesn’t think much of it, which he supposes was his first mistake, because he’s heard you sigh like that before, sometimes you get anxious, sometimes something small takes a hold of you and you can’t help but worry, so Belphie decides to hold onto you a little tighter and speaks up:
“Don’t worry about it, I’m here.”
‘You’re such a brat,’ you’d mutter under your breath, but there would be a smile pulling at your laps as you pulled him closer, and you’d relax again.
But that doesn’t happen, instead, you pull back as if burned, pushing him off you somewhere between rough and gentle. He whines for a moment, but then you keep pushing almost stumbling out of your own bed in the process.
Belphie looks up, ready to complain, then he sees the look on your face.
Guarded.
He didn’t know you could do that.
He’d seen you angry, had seen your face morph into a scowl, he’s seen you cry, laugh, whine, Belphie envied that about you, just how much of an open book you were, just how much you wore your heart on your sleeve. He’d thought it stupid at first, thought you were a fool for being so honest around him, around demons, then he’d realized the purpose of it. You chose to feel every emotion in that little human body of yours to the fullest, and every time you did it radiated of you so much it became contagious.
Now, there was nothing, just a tight lip expression and a frown on your face.
The sleep that clouded his mind seconds before disappears in a puff of smoke and he leans up as you back away from the bed arms wrapping around yourself. Belphie never wished more to know what you were thinking.
“What’s wrong?” he asks and there’s an edge to it, a feeling of loss because he doesn’t know, he’s always known in some way what bothered you, but now he can’t even understand the look behind your eyes.
You pause mouth opening before clamping shut tight before you shake your head. “I⏤I don’t⏤”
You look lost, fragile, and Belphie finds himself reaching out.
You flinch.
There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, both of you stand frozen, neither sure what comes next. Belphie doesn’t know what’s happening, just one minute ago you were content, him in your arms, you were there and everything was right, and now...
He tenses up but makes no move towards you. “What a⏤”
“Just drop it, Belphie,” you say, and your voice sounds tired, lost as if you aren’t sure why this is where you draw the line either. “Ju⏤Just get out.”
Belphie pouts, but his shoulders are tensing and something in his stomach drops. “Come on,” he tries to whine, but it comes out with a slight tinge of worry. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Your face changes again, and something sweeps through, it almost looks like betrayal.
“Get. Out.”
The commands runs through his veins and something snares around his body all but flinging him outside your room, not long after that you slam the door shut.
He gives you an hour, an hour before you come knocking at the door to his and Beel’s room and talk to him about what’s bothering you, an hour until he’s back in your arms, an hour for things to feel right again.
The hour turns into hours, and when Belphie opens his eyes again it’s the next morning.
He’s used to getting his way, he knows this, so when you don’t show up the next morning to breakfast he doesn’t go to look for you. You’ll come looking for him, he thinks to himself, you always do, you always have. No matter the petty argument, no matter the words either of you would shout, no matter how annoying or insufferable he would get, you’d always find your way back to him. Belphie knew this, he felt comfort in the fact, in the constant you had become. It was almost laughable, a human becoming a constant for a demon. But it didn’t matter to Belphie, all that mattered was knowing no matter what, when he turned around you’d be standing there a little way of, still with a pout on your lips, but then he’d take a hold of your hand and things would be a little better.
He turns around before he leaves for his room again, you’re not there.
After three days he starts having trouble falling asleep, that’s when he starts to think.
The longer it takes for him to fall asleep the longer he thinks, and the more he remembers, remembers things he wished he could forget ever happened. Remembers the anger that stewed in his stomach, the disgust that coursed through his veins when he used to look at you. Remembers the feeling of his hands wrapped around your throat, the desperate look in your eyes, the please barely falling of your laps. Belphie clutches tighter onto his pillow, but the thoughts keep flying around his mind. Thoughts of how bridges he’d burned, and of how somehow you’d managed to cross over to his side anyway. He thinks about the way you’re arms wrapped around his and the fact there’s forgiveness there, the fact there was a choice on your end to let him close, to keep him close.
You were human, and yet you were the strongest thing Belphie had ever met in the three realms.
You’d clawed your way through every obstacle Belphie had thrown behind him in his resentment towards humanity, for every bridge he’d burned you’d build another one, and where there was a raging fire still going you’d ran trough head-first towards him with that stupid little smile of yours, and you’d wrapped your arms around him and forgiven him for a murder, your murder.
And when he thinks about it that’s such a you thing to do it almost makes him want to scream.
You who saw yourself die by his hands, who had your entire world flipped upside down for the whims of a few demons, you who had dealt with threats to your well-being around every corner, you who through all that just took a deep breath and continued putting one foot in front of the other. You, the strangest human Belphie had ever met, but one that found a way to worm themselves right into his heart all the same. And Belphie finally realizes a crucial fact, of all the humans Lilith could have sent to them, it would always have been you, whether you were her descendent or not wouldn’t have mattered because only someone like you could have done the things you did. It takes a special kind of strength to keep your heart on your sleeve no matter what, a special kind of human who could be threatened and die, and still say to themselves: no, I can keep going.
Then he realizes.
Three days ago it had been a year since Belphie had killed you.
And oh, if he’s ever fucked up before it’s here and now.
He finds you in the attic huddled under a blanket.
He doesn’t step towards you, your face still has that look on it, the lost look in your eyes, and Belphie is forced to face the fact he’s the reason for it. So he stays by the door, even if he could get to you with a few long strides, it feels as if you’re a world away. And in a way you are, mourning your own death, scared for your own mortality, a fear even he has been ignoring, one he doesn’t plan on conquering today. Babysteps he supposes.
Belphie never cared for spoken apologies, they didn’t mean anything to him, they were words, words you could easily lie about, but he knows you care, knows sometimes you need to hear the things Belphie tries to show you so even though it feels strange on his tongue and it comes out a little robotic in the end he breaks the silence with a small, “I’m sorry.”
At first, you don’t move, for a moment he thinks you didn’t hear him, then you let out a sigh. A heavy sigh he has no hope of ever understanding, then you pat the spot next to you still looking down at your hands, and Belphie moves towards you slowly as if approaching a scared animal trying not to startle it more, in a way, he supposes he is.
You both sit there for a while until finally, you speak up:
“I have nightmares about it,” you admit and Belphie feels something inside him break.
Because some part of him knew, some part of him knew you must remember some of it, even if it hadn’t been the you that sits next to him it had still been some part of you, a past version that would never be, a version that would never forgive him, a version that he could have befriended, could have been sitting next to and talk to. He killed a different you, and you’d forgiven him, but he’d never bothered to think about the fact that the you he killed might have been more opposed to the idea, and the way that thought fell on your shoulders.
He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dare move, some part of him still hopes this isn’t real, that it’s some cruel nightmare, that any moment now he’ll wake up in your arms and things will be right again.
He doesn’t wake up, and next to him you continue voice tight and face unreadable.
“If I weren’t Lilith’s descendant,” you start and Belphie feels his heart drop, “would you have befriended me the way you did?
It’s a cruel thing to ask, Belphie sees it in the way guilt washes over your face the second you ask it, but it’s an even crueler thing for him to answer because he knows the answer, and he knows it’s not the thing you want to hear. Something about it is funny because the question is so irrevocably you that it almost makes him laugh. You don’t ask if he hates you. You don’t ask if he would kill you again. You ask if he cares, and if he would care in another world, another place where things are different, another place that isn’t here and now.
He doesn’t have the answer you want, so instead, he asks you a question, “If I didn’t would you have forgiven me the way you did?”
“Yes,” you answer, but then you pause a little. “Well, maybe not the way I did, but I’d have forgiven you.”
“Why?” he asks, and Belphie realizes he is nowhere close to understanding you because you smile at him, strained and with saddened eyes, but it’s genuine.
“Because,” you start, “I’m alive, that’s all that would matter, the rest could wait.”
And it had waited, but now they’d gotten to the place where the rest waited for you.
“I’ll never understand you,” he says, and he takes you into his arms.
There’s a pause, but then your hands clasp around him and finally, things feel a little more right.
“What do we do now?” you mutter, your head finds its way into his neck and your arms hold him tighter.
He thinks for a moment, then finally he speaks up, “Figure out the rest.”
Belphie doubts either of you will ever be able to forget what happened that day, but for now, you can start a new chapter, a better one, one where Belphie does right by you, and this time, one where here and now, you matter to him more than he can put into words, and one where he meets you halfway. Because at the end of the day you forgive him, you would forgive him in every world, whether it be through a bright smile or gritted teeth.
And some part of Belphie knows that in every world that little bit of forgiveness no matter how big or how small, would make him love you every time, not because you were Lilith’s descendent, but because it was you.
anonymous asked: Angst time 😈 could I request a ficlet of belphie finding out the MC doesn't like him and has PTSD because of him? Like maybe they're alone with him they go full fight or flight mode and if he tries to help they just beg him not to hurt them? Sorry if this too specific adkfhj
author’s note: I hope i did your prompt justice!!! thank you for requesting, and happy (even though its angst) reading!
xoxo moon
warning: this scenario has spoilers for lesson 16! if you haven’t read that far, don’t read this scenario!
You were nervous. You had never been left alone with Belphie since he had tried to, for lack of a better term, murder you in front of his brothers, but all of the brothers aside from him had gone to a meeting for the school board, which meant that you would be left alone with him for the majority of the day.
To be honest, you were terrified of him.
Regardless of Beel’s promises of him genuinely being a good demon, and only having his judgements clouded by what happened to Lilith, it was hard to forgive him for what he did to you that day. Every time you thought about him, or even heard of his name, it sent shivers down your spine.
What if you hadn’t found out you were a distant relative of Lilith? What if he had ended up seriously hurting you? Every time you think about it, you’re brought back to that day, and it frightens you to your very core.
You tried not to leave your room much the day you were left alone with him, not knowing if he would ever leave the attic or not, but by 6PM, you had realized that you hadn’t eaten since the morning. You decided to go down to the kitchen as quickly as possible to grab a snack, and haul yourself back up in your room for the rest of the night until the other brothers came home.
Of course, though, as almost if by perfect inconvenience, as you were searching through the fridge for the food you had packed away last night, you heard foot steps coming down the stairs. You felt your body begin to tremble, and found it hard to shut your eyes, for every time you did, you would be brought back to that day. You felt tears well in your eyes as your body almost refused to move itself from the fridge.
Soon, the demon came into the kitchen, pillow in hand, walking straight past you in search of food. What he didn’t realize, though, was that his pillow gently grazed your back as he passed, and you had thought it was his hand
You let out a soft yelp, quickly slamming the fridge shut and running towards the stairs.
“(y/n)?” you heard his voice call after you, “what’s wrong? what happened?”
you covered your ears as you closed and locked your door behind you, softly weeping as you sank down to the ground.
You trusted Beel with all of your heart, but how could a demon who tried to kill you be a good demon in the long run?
Belphie made his way to your room, halting the knock on your door as he heard you softly weep from the other side. He didn’t quite know what to do in this situation, but he promised Beel that if he saw you he would try and comfort you (as Beel told Belphie you were a bit nervous), and he couldn’t break his promise.
He sat against the door, back pressed against it like yours was as he grabbed his phone.
As your soft sobs stopped and you uncovered your ears, you heard music playing from the other side. It was a song you had told Beel you liked and that calmed you down—he must have relayed the information on to Belphie at some point.
You sat and listened, Belphie replaying the song for you until he couldn’t hear you sniffling anymore.
“(y/n),” he spoke after the song ended, voice as gentle as he could make it. his voice, though, still sent chills down your spine. You couldn’t help but think of the maniacal laugh he let out as he gathered you in his arms when you let him out of the attic. “May I come in?”
You didn’t know what to do. You felt yourself trembling as you stood, looking at the doorknob. You promised Beel that you would give him a chance to redeem himself one day, but you just didn’t know if you were ready or not.
You reached for the doorknob, turning it slightly to unlock it, before you backed up towards your bed.
Belphie slowly pushed open the door, leaving it open so you two wouldn’t be trapped together. He took a step towards you—only one, and yet it had you cowering again. You went to your knees, holding them as you shook.
“Please,” you said weakly, tears beginning to cloud your eyes again, “Just….Just don’t hurt me.”
Belphie watched as you cowered in front of him. Before this point, that’s what he wanted; he wanted humans to fear him. And yet, watching you do it felt like a knife to his heart. He stepped back again, reaching into the hallway to grab some things; his pillow, and a pudding.
“You haven’t eaten all day,” he mumbled, placing the pudding down on the ground in between you two. “You shouldn’t have to go without eating because you’re scared to see me.”
You didn’t say a word to him, sniffing as you looked at the pudding.
“It’s not open or anything… You need to eat something.”
Belphie stood in silence, watching as you rocked yourself a bit.
“I won’t hurt you. But I know you don’t want to see me, so i’m going to go back into the attic, okay?”
Silence.
As Belphie walked towards the door, he looked back at you.
“(y/n), i’m really sorry.”
With that, he closed the door, leaving him in the hallway as you stared at the pudding he had left you.
You trusted Beel with all of your heart, but you just weren’t ready to forgive and forget yet.
Trigger Warning: self harm (cutting), [social] anxiety, anxiety in general, possibly OOC belphegor
Author’s Note: this was a request!! Thank you for the request, I’m more than happy to write them.
Request: Okay,,,hey,, If it would be alright would you maybe write a Belphie x selfharm reader who is like shy and has social anxiety,,? If not that's alright!,, Hope ya have a good day/night.
—————-
You hated that you always resorted back to this blade. The blade that you had for some reason been carrying on you when you entered the Devildom, so the only thing other than the clothes on your back that you had from the Human Realm.
You hadn’t even been planning on using it that day from your recollection, but your anxiety had been spiked for many reasons.
You didn’t have time to prepare to meet new people, and in result had a lot of issues adjusting to your new surroundings. You had grown used to them eventually, even becoming close friends with most of the people in the Devildom. You had your eyes set on one of the brothers for a while, and he eventually caught on and you went on a date, which included you both taking naps while watching a movie. The past few months have been amazing in your life.
So, why had you once again resorted to harming yourself? It was pretty simple. Your anxiety had piqued for no reason, or not any that you could come up with.
Maybe it was the stress of school, maybe it was your boyfriend showing you less attention? Wait, that was it.
Belphegor has been avoiding you for a few days now, which made you feel like you did something wrong. You knew that you should confront him about it, but your personality made it so that you avoided confrontation as much as you could.
So at nights you didn’t have Belphegor to comfort you when you got lost in your thoughts, so you ended up curled up in your bathroom, a blanket wrapped around you in the bathtub and crimson soaked blade in you hand as your other tried to catch the blood before it hit the tub.
You watched as the blood formed into droplets before being pulled down by gravity to the bottom of the tub. You had left the bathroom door opened but locked your actual bedroom door, to keep people out.
You watched as the few cuts you had on your wrist coagulated and you pushed yourself out of the tub, rinsing off and washing your wounds and hands before putting a few bandaids that you had pushed to the back of your cabinet on them. You noted that you needed to buy more gauze next time you could, and that opportunity presented itself quickly.
“[Y/N], I need to go to the store to restock the kitchen. Would you like to go with me?” You hear Satan’s voice call through the door after he knocked.
“Oh, uh, yeah! I’d like to go, hold on a second please,” you called back to him and quickly pulled on one of Belphegor’s hoodies that you had stolen when he slept in your room the last time.
You took in a deep breath and opened the door, greeted with a smiling Satan.
“Did Beel eat everything again, or..?” You asked, shoving your hands in the pocket and gazing down at the floor.
“No, surprisingly, I’d noticed that you had been acting a little off, so I decided that I would cook one of your favorite meals tonight. We didn’t have enough of a few things, so I figured I might at well go to the store. And it’s no fun going alone.”
You stopped and shook your head.
“Satan, you don’t need to make me a meal, I’m fine. It’s probably just hormonal changes,” you assure him, and he shakes his head.
“I want to, and even if it is hormones, now I’m craving [favorite meal], so I’m going to make it.”
You didn’t stop him but you sped up your pace a little bit to catch up to him.
“I also need to grab a few things if that’s alright.”
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be.”
You felt a pair of eyes on you before you closed the gate to the House, but when you looked at the doorway and the windows you didn’t see anything.
On the way to the store you stayed close to Satan, but not close enough to make him uncomfortable, hopefully. He didn’t seem to mind at least, and it made you feel comforted knowing that if anything happened he wouldn’t let you get very hurt.
You went into the store with him and as he grabbed a few vegetables you thought you would try to show your disorder who’s boss and get your bandages without needing someone there with you.
As you were looking over the packages and seeing what the best deal was (was it the two rolls for 50 Grimm, one roll for 30 Grimm, or maybe the ten rolls for 200 Grimm?), you heard an unfamiliar voice next to you, asking you a question.
Your pulse quickened as you looked over, and there stood a demon, with an arrogant look on their face.
“What?” You asked them, palming the ten rolls of gauze.
“Aren’t you that human exchange student? Man you’re a little thing.”
You nodded, not looking then in the face before turning away. You felt their hand grip your wrist, and you winced, feeling the bandaids tear at your healing cuts, and you were horrified when you felt a warm liquid drip down onto your hand.
They seemed to notice the blood and sink their claws in more, ripping the sleeve of the hoodie to show the bleeding cuts and the fresh ones made from the claws.
“P-please don’t touch me,” you tried to order them, trying to get your wrist out of their grip, but they pulled you toward them, making you land on their chest.
Tears sprang to your eyes as you tried to push off of them. Why was no one helping you? Where was Satan, you had been gone for a while now, and he knows about your issues, so where was he? Where was anyone?
“No, little dove, I think I’ll keep you for a tasty treat tonight. It’s been so long since I had a human, and one as succulent as you should last me awhile.”
No one was showing up, Satan probably left you. It’s probably for the best, with how needy and clingy you were, that was probably his plan all along. All of the brothers probably agreed, then that means Diavolo had agreed because if not Lucifer would have told them not to and would have punished them for even bringing up that idea.
“N-no! Please, someone help! Please,” you called out, and suddenly the demon was thrown off of you and you were cradled into a chest, your eyes adjusting to the navy blue and cow print and you took a deep breath in, breathing the scent of your lover.
“Belphie,” you whimpered out, cringing to him, and he put his hand on the back of your head, stroking lightly on your hair.
“Let’s go home,” he spoke, and started leading you out of the store, placing another hand on the small of your back.
“B-but the gauze-”
“I have some in my bathroom, Cub,” he soothed. “Satan can deal with the poor excuse for a demon in there.”
The walk home was silent other than your shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. The blood hadn’t stopped running down your hand, attracting attention but the attention was immediately turned away when Belphie sent them a glare that could probably scare Lucifer.
Belphie led you up to his room, making you sit on the desk on his side of his and Beel’s room before leaving to your room, coming back minutes later and going to his bathroom. He came back with ointment and gauze, placing both those things down and also placing another object down. It gleamed in the light, and you let out a sharp breath.
“Belphie, I’m s-”
“Cub, I don’t want to hear your apologies. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he soothed as he dressed your cuts, both older and fresh, and pulled you to be standing. “Come with me, please.”
He picked up the blade and took your other hand, leading you to his bathroom.
“This is the only blade I found, is this the only one you have?” You nodded. “Use your words, Cub.”
“Yes, that’s the only one I have.”
“Okay,” he handed you the blade. “Flush it down the toilet.”
“What?”
“Flush it down the toilet, I don’t want it to be in any place to tempt you. Please, Cub. I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore.”
You looked back and forth between him and the toilet, before dropping the blade in the toilet and flushing it.
“That’s going to ruin the pipes,” you try to joke, but Belphie shrugged.
“That’s Lucifer’s problem.”
“I don’t think it’s only his problem.”
Belphie dragged you to his bed, laying down and bringing you to rest beside his chest.
“I don’t expect you to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable, but I’m here to talk anytime you want to, you know that, right Cub?”
“Yeah, I guess. I just felt like you were avoiding me, and it made me anxious.”
He let out a shaky breath and brought you closer to him.
“I’m sorry, Cub. Lucifer had been making me mad, and I just needed a little space from people.”
You giggle a little at that and look up at him with tired eyes.
“I love you,” you told him, and he smiled and brought you up to his face, connecting his lips with yours, and you laid your hands on his chest before separating.
“I love you too, Cub.”
You two laid in bed for a little while longer, both your breathing eventually becoming one as you both fell asleep holding each other.
————
This was written by me in no way trying to romanticize mental illnesses. I try to write what I feel would help me in the moment. I completely understand that mental illnesses don’t just ‘disappear’ when you’ve figured out that someone loves you or someone helps you once- that’s why I don’t write what happens after in most cases. If you are struggling, please reach out to anyone you trust, or call a hotline.
He had been staring at you since for the past half hour and you were slowly going nuts. It didn’t help that he was in your best friend’s meat suit. It actually did quite the opposite. You missed Jack, despite all of his huge and recent mistakes. The fact that Belphegor was using Jack’s dead body made it extremely hard to even look at him.
You also tried to hint that you wanted nothing to do with him, but you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the jokes he had made, which ultimately sent the wrong message. It’s not your fault that he has a sense of humour. It was also pretty embarrassing when you’d look at him and your laughter would turn into crying hysterically because he looks like your recently deceased best friend.
You were walking back to the Impala after getting yourself and your dad a coffee from one of the shops in town. Neither of you had gotten much sleep since Chuck decided to free all of the souls from hell. Unfortunately for Dean, he was stuck listening to the demon gush about you, his daughter.
“Look at them now!” Belphegor said when you punched a random pedestrian who was harassing you. You were fascinating and gorgeous. You were nothing like the human he used to know when he was human. You were tough, smart, and you could talk in complete sentences.
“What?” Your dad asked. He was not only confused about what the demon was talking about, but he was also not in the mood to talk.
“Y/N.” He clarified. “She’s amazing... and hot.”
“Don’t you dare talk about her like that!”
“Why?”, He asked. What was so bad about complimenting somebody. “it’s a compliment and it’s true.”
“Let me give you some advice. One, you don’t talk about someone like that to their parent. It just makes them want to shoot you. Second, stay the hell away from her. I don’t need her hanging around some demon.”
“Right, because letting her hunt monsters is much safer,” Belphegor said sarcastically.
Opening the passenger door, you hand your dad his coffee. He thanked you before he began to sip on it. You were about to take a sip of yours when you felt somebody staring at you again.
“Are you staring at me?” You asked, hoping that you were wrong.
“Yeah, why?” He answered casually. You saw your dad spit a bit of his coffee out before glaring at Belphegor.
“It’s kind of considered rude these days.” You said as you turned in your seat to look at him.
“Sorry. You're just really good-looking.”
“Hey!” Your dad yelled. “Did you not hear a word I was telling you.” Were they talking about you while you were out? You turned back in your seat to face the window so that you wouldn’t have to look at the demon or your dad.
“Just because you gave me advice doesn’t mean I have to take it.”
You tried to stop it, but a blush rose to your cheeks and you found yourself fighting a light smile. What the hell is going on? Although you didn’t want to, you found yourself liking the demon a little more.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Your dad said when he looked at you. After this, he’s really going to need a drink.
Belphegor headcanons pls :) what kind of sub is he? Pillow prince or brat ? Love your stuff, keep up the good work:)
HAHAHHAHA YESSS THANK U ANON I APPRECIATE U
Belphegor Headcanons (NSFW);
Belphie is definitely some kinda switch. Like I think all the brothers are pretty much implied to be that way (though Lucifer seems the type to be unwilling to admit it)
Belphie in particular I view as a sadomasochist, like we know he’s sadistic but bro? The boys love it when you whip them of course they have to have SOME masochistic traits.
I think whenever sex happens Belphegor will be wide awake because how could he be sleepy when you’re touching him like that?
As a sub, I see him as switching between bratty and obedient depending on his mood.
He can take pain but he’ll return it some too (things like aggressive love bites or scratches down your back, he can just be overly eager sometimes)
I think he’d be pretty vocal, moaning and sighing a lot and dirty talking here and there
OBVIOUSLY he DEMANDS cuddles afterwards because he’s always spent, but he’s surprisingly shy during the afterglow and will be super susceptible to any and all heartfelt compliments
“Ah man, why are you saying that? You’re going to make me blush...” he says, while blushing and hiding his face beneath his hair.
Definitely a hard brat to control and you will need to tame his dumb ass
I think he’d even tease you over it tbh. Something like “Aren’t you supposed to be my Master? You’re not very good at commanding me.”
For the Avatar of Sloth, you need a surprising amount of energy to handle him
