#i am very tired im gonna go take a nap now lol... not. genshin time

[alleycat-arcade]

Game Continue! The Seven Lords: Those Who Remain

@pastelhologram asked: Wait. What about The demon bros reaction to Mc being the Person lilith fell in love with. Like maybe an au where he's not Related to lilith but instead he's the person she fell for. Even better if They're first impression of Mc is that he didn't deserve Lilith, but as time goes on, They start seeing what lilith saw.

(This is Part 2! I recommend reading Part 1 first, which you can find here. Due to some internet issues on my end, there has been a little bit of a delay in my writing TwT. I deeply apologize for the wait! There is an off chance I may re-write Beel and Belphie's parts at some points, but that is just my inner perfectionist talking there.

Also as an apology for such a long delay, here is a link to the video that is almost always playing while I am writing fics n' stuff. No it is not a rickroll this time.)

Everburning Candle(Part 2) (Obey Me! Younger Brothers x Male/Masc! Mc/Reader)

Content Warnings: Mc/Reader uses he/him pronouns. Spoilers for Pretty much all of season one (Chapters 1-20), since pacts, reasoning behind certain pacts, and Lilith are discussed. I hope you don't mind me adding a few of my personal headcanons! Hurt/Comfort overall, with traces of blood and acts of violence. The book from Satan's part in not meant to be real lol. Asmo's part has mentions of sexual acts, but other than that its good. In terms of descriptions of violent acts, Belphie's is the most intense. Also I am infected with the angst plague, I apologize my dudes. But other than that its all good.

(I'm not gonna copy the whole intro to prevent it from being too long. You can find it in the first part. <3)

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Satan:

It was hard for Satan to deny that he was curious about you. Similar to Lucifer, he picked up on the fact that you had a delayed response whenever they would call you by what they thought was your name, but the unofficial detective also noted something else interesting. Oddly, you seemed wise beyond your years when in came to the topic of human history. In tandem with the Exchange Program, Diavolo had established electives for RAD students that studied both Human and Angel history. You happened to be in this class at the same hour as him, and he couldn't help but be curious about how you could barely pay attention in class yet get near perfect scores.

Yet, the Avatar of Wrath couldn't find it within himself to pay more attention to you than basic curiosity. He had quite a few other things to worry about, and a strangely smart human exchange student wasn't too high on his list of priorities. There were humans out there with eidetic memory, so it wasn't too hard to believe that you could just have a lot of knowledge about Human history that you acquired prior to the Exchange Program. At most he would stare at you quizzically from time to time during Humanity Studies, as you scribbled away in your notes that only had brief concepts of what the teacher was saying written down.

The evening after you formed a pact with Leviathan, Satan felt his curiosity spike as you suddenly pulled Lucifer away from the group to talk about something. His interest only rose as the Eldest pinned you against the wall in his demon form, your voice too far away for him to hear exactly what you had said to piss him off so much. If it weren't for the whispers of the contents of your conversation that passed around the room, he may have congratulated you for getting Luci so angry and escaping with your life.

Now, Satan had never truly known Lilith. Seeing as he had been brought into existence during her final hours and was not in a state of cognizant awareness at the time, he had no memory of those final moments of her life. At most he had the hazy memories left over from Lucifer that give him a basic concept of her features, and the stories that his brothers would tell about her. But even those stories were strained and missing details, due to their grievances of the loss of their sister.

And yet, even with a decent reason to approach and question you, he strayed away. You held likely all the answers he had ever wanted to know about the deceased sister that his brothers loved so much, but he couldn't bring himself to even speak to you. Something about being in your presence brought an odd pain to his chest, one only made worse when he'd see the ways his brothers would stare at you. Looks of disgust, anger, and sadness were directed at you, causing Satan to recoil upon contact. As much as he may mess with his siblings, he still deeply cared about them and did not want to bring them anymore grief by hanging around you in front of them.

Besides the TSL Quiz, the two of you had hardly ever spoken to each other. You were a sort of Enigma, a boy that both drew him in and pushed him away at the same time. A temptation he swore to never give into, but... he was a demon after all. And sometimes you just needed to give someone a little nudge for them to dive headfirst into their desires.

It had been an awful day for the Avatar of Wrath. Scratch that, a dreadfully awful day. Nearly everything had seemed to go wrong for him, as if the worst bad luck curse imaginable had been secretly placed on him the night before. He had woken up late and dealt with a lecture from Lucifer, tripped and fell up the stairs at RAD and nearly broke his nose, someone in class had spilled Poison Veggie Juice all over his notes and textbook and scurried away too quickly to face his wrath, and to top it all off he had realized that he both forgot his lunch at him and didn't bring any extra Grimm with him to pay for anything to eat. If he had been in a better mood he may have asked one of his colleagues to borrow a little Grimm, but he felt that if he had to talk to another person today he'd blow up in their face. Thus, once RAD was over and it was time to leave, Satan hurried home to hide away in the Library until his Wrath subsided.

What he had expected to find was the library silent and empty so he could relax, but it seemed luck was still not on his side today. The sound of pencil on paper drew his attention, now staring at you seated at the table in the middle of the room. It seemed as if you hadn't noticed him enter at all, too focused on the book in your hand that you had begun to litter with colorful sticky notes. A pile of similarly marked books sat to your left, with a slowly decreasing pile of normal books awaiting their fate sat at you right. On a normal day, with a different person, Satan may have found some respect in how you were taking such details notes about the material in your hands. But as the sound of stomping filled your ears, it was clear that he was very, very angry.

Turning your head to face him, you were met with a rather frightening sight. The demon loomed over you, surrounded with a rather violent black and green aura that almost rivaled Lucifer in terror. "Why hello, Mc. What do you think you're doing?" He questioned, an unnerving smile on his face. "I'm just marking notes in my books. It's kinda upsetting how-" "Did I hear that correctly? Your books?" You let out a sigh, before shoving your hand into your pocket and fishing out a receipt. Though you had originally kept it in case Mammon decided to sell them after you had spent hours begging Lucifer to let you buy some Human World books, it seemed like as good of a time as any to use it. You only hoped that he wouldn't stay angry at you, seeing as they were in fact your property. He was quick to snatch the slightly crumpled paper in your hand, eyes scanning over every line. As his gaze travelled farther down the paper, you could see the way that his rage almost seemed to deflate like a balloon.

His demon form was no longer present as his shoved the receipt back into your hand with a subtle huff. "I suppose that it is fine for you to mark your own books in such a manner, but don't let me find out should you ever mark any of mine." Holding back an eye roll, you motioned to the book that you had been in the middle of before he interrupted. "I don't have any plans on messing with your things. I bought these books specifically for this reason. They just have so many historical inaccuracies it drives me crazy." "...Historical inaccuracies?" Satan carefully slid his hand over to lift the cover, the title standing out in rather bold lettering. "The History of the Titanic?" You simply nodded, flipping the pages to one absolutely coated in sticky notes. "It's like they didn't even ask someone who was on the boat or worked on it! They may as well make this a fiction novel with this phony evidence they collected!" His eyebrow raised as you ranted. "How would you know that for certain?" "Satan, I'm pretty sure I would know. I was on the damn boat."

An hour had passed as you recounted your memories of events. Telling the story of how you had worked as a Butler for a rather wealthy woman who had been on the boat, detailing all you could remember about the boat and its passengers, and how you had barely escaped with your life while helping some children and their mother into a raft before the ship capsized. Curiously, he inquired about the other books that you had already marked. Some had even more notes and some very little, but you had a story for each one. Either you had been involved in the events yourself or had known someone who was, and he found your stories entrancing. It had been deep into the night before you had concluded, your throat aching from talking for so long. He asked you to stay there suddenly, leaving to fetch some tea with honey.

After allowing you to soothe your throat a little, he presented you with a question he had been holding back for a while now. "If your throat isn't too sore, can you tell me about, Lilith?" A twinkle forms in your eyes as you move to bring a journal out of your bag. You flip through the pages and tell him everything about your deceased lover, making sure to show him the images you had drawn yourself or had an illustrator draw of her. Unconsciously, Satan had began scooting closer to get a better view. It wasn't until he was practically in the crook of your neck that he noticed. "A-ah! Sorry, I don't know what came over me there." He stammered, nervously tugging at the collar of his sweater and leaning away. "No it's fine. Here, let me move so you can see better."

When dinner time had rolled around, Asmodeus couldn't find his younger brother. Satan wasn't in his room, and since there had been a sign on the library that the human was inside, it wasn't likely that he was in there. He was about to give up and tell one of his brothers that the Avatar of Wrath was no where to be found, when the sound of amused chatter caught his attention. It definitely sounded like the brother he was looking for, and where was it coming from? The library. Entering the dimly lit room, Asmo was met with a rather odd sight. Held in your hands was a rather ancient looking book, with his brother pointing at various locations in the image of the mountainous region displayed on the current page. "Oh, hello Asmodeus." You paused, a nervous smile covering your face as you noticed him standing in the doorway. Eyeing you suspiciously, he informed you about the time and left. "Ah, we'll have to pick this up some other time." Satan spoke, standing up and stretching. "Feel free to come and chat whenever. I'm almost always available, so don't worry about scheduling with me."

Like his brothers, Satan is slow to warm up to you. He doesn't hold as much against you as his older siblings do, but he still feels guilty when they glare at him for hanging around you. But eventually, the guilt of earning his brothers' disapproval is overridden by a new feeling of guilt that blooms in his stomach. The guilt of watching you wander about HOL all by your lonesome, with an attempt at bonding usually met with a scoff and a brief, strained conversation. The Avatar of Wrath is no stranger to being the black sheep of the house, especially being the only full demon in a household of fallen angels, so he understands what it feels like to be a sort of outcast.

Satan tries to be subtle in his approach to you, waiting until you've gotten on even somewhat better terms with one or two of his brothers before he suddenly asks you to tutor him in Humanity Studies. Understandably, you were a bit confused since he was one of the smartest demons-, no people in general that you've known, but you agreed to help him nonetheless. Studying sessions quickly devolved into just talking with each other whenever he felt like it, your relationship carefully going from acquaintances to tutor and student to friends and then potentially close friends.(Or even closer if you catch my drift.)

You had begun to view his room as a sort of sanctuary after a while. He almost always let you in whenever you knocked on the door, and the two of you would either speak about a mutual topic or sit in a comfortable silence. Eventually, you had begun visiting so much that Satan gave you an enchanted key to keep a hold of, in order to let yourself in when he couldn't get to the door quickly or if you left some belongings behind and he was out. The time spent in his room only increased exponentially after the Attic incident, so much so that the brothers were beginning to think you had moved into his room.

In the dead of night, when you're most likely to be in a deep sleep, is when Satan gets very vulnerable about the topic of your death. Nightmares weren't something he had frequently, and most of the time they were about him doing something controlled solely by his Wrath. Yet, these newer ones seemed to hurt more. He dreamt about inactions rather than actions, wicked dreams where he would kick and scream at his body to protect you or heal you but he remained rooted in place. In you happened to be a lighter sleeper, you might have noticed the way he suddenly would curl into you and rest his head on your chest, fragments mutters about protecting you leaving his lips and being muffled in your shirt.

When he can't be by your side to protect you, he ensures that two things are there with you in his absence. First, one of his brothers to keep you safe, and secondly a clothing item of his. It doesn't have to be anything in particular, just something he's worn enough to smell like him. Only a really, really stupid and desperate demon would try and attack you with the scent of the Avatar of Wrath hanging off of you.

Even with all of that said, for being likely the smartest sibling in the family, it took a comment from one of his brothers to fully recognize how much he cared about you, outside of not wanting to see you hurt and beating himself up for allowing you to bleed out without even trying to help.

It had been a rather cold day in the Devildom, so both of you decided to share a blanket and warm up in front of the fireplace in the common room. Satan was very vividly discussing a drama that both of you had binged the other night, with you nodding along and occasionally adding in your own points to the conversation. By the time Belphie had arrived you were near the end of the discussion, with your eyelids growing heavy and your body leaning into him. "Are you tired, Mc? Here, let me move a bit so you can rest against the arm of the couch." You tried to assure him that he didn't need to, but he stubbornly shifted around until you could properly lay your head against the plush couch. The Avatar of Sloth only made his presence know once you were half asleep, your body unconsciously snuggling against the demon sat in front of you. "It's been quite a while since I've seen him like this. Mc must care very deeply for you, Satan." His voice startled the blonde, but he did his best not to jolt or make any sudden noises that might stir you. "I-I suppose so. But what exactly is that supposed to mean, Belphie?" "Oh, nothing too drastic. I just remember that he always used to sleep with Lilith like that. He always used to say that the positioning of his hands was symbolic, like a sort of promise." A shiver ran up Satan's spine, feeling your unconscious form tug him closer to lay down with you. As much as he disliked being compared to his deceased sister, if you cared about him in such a way, perhaps he might be willing to admit he did as well.

Asmodeus:

The Avatar of Lust was fairly interested in you from the beginning. Not really as an equal or potential friend though, more so a sort very friendly acquaintance that he could toy with as he so pleased. He didn't exactly find anything about you extraordinarily remarkable besides a decent amount of scarring on your body, so it was needless to say that the demon wasn't very deeply invested in your life in the Devildom or as a whole. You were just another human, and he's met plenty ordinary and average humans over his lifespan.

Well, you did have at least one intriguing quality that would catch his eye on occasion. Besides Mammon, Asmodeus is the brother who spends the most time in the Human Realm outside of purposeful missions. What can he say? He's a popular demon to summon for some late night activities. But the point is, Asmo's met quite a few demons over the years, but none of them truly matched your mannerisms. You had a variety of different ways of doing things that mimicked modern idiosyncrasies as well as ones from times long past. The best explanation he could come up with is that you came from a rather old fashioned family, as he'd already tested the vampire approach. Plus, it was highly unlikely you were just an immortal being seeing as you had no magical abilities and the chances of another fruit of the Heavens being given to another human were slim to none. Unless...?

As it turned out, you were not the catalyst of a covered up Second Celestial War, but rather the same human from all those centuries ago. Asmodeus had been the one to properly overhear the conversation between you and Lucifer, as well as spread the rumors of your past throughout the House of Lamentation. He felt it only proper that his brothers be aware of your true colors, especially since you had such a history with all of them. Even if he'd never met your prior to the Celestial War, Asmo was aware of your existance and how much you meant to Lilith. So much so that she stole a fruit from their Father's garden to save your life, thus starting the war itself.

Asmodeus didn't really like the fact that he couldn't read you. You were just as mysterious as Solomon at times, and your past only made this trait of yours something he grew to dislike more and more. How exactly did his little sister manage to fall in love with you, some random guy with average looks and a somewhat distant personality? While Asmo's life may seem to revolve solely on himself, he does care a great deal for his family, and as such has rather high expectations for their romantic partners that he usually lacked towards his own. He may have had different opinions as an Angel in regards to his standards for himself and his family member's partners, but here and now in his demonic form, you weren't worth Lilith's time in his eyes.

Similar to his brothers, he wouldn't be around you if he didn't have to, but with him it was almost worse. Though his brothers might on occasion extend an olive branch, if he didn't need to or want something from you he wouldn't even be in the same room as you. Call it petty, but Asmo really couldn't bear your presence. Underneath all his nitpicks about your personality and appearance, was an open wound that you irritated every time he had to be near you. Perhaps the insulting thoughts towards you were meant to cover that up, to hide away the gash in his heart that Lilith's death had left behind. Or he was just really, really petty. Who knows?

The most willing interaction you had exchanged with him in quite a while was a rather odd one. Both of you had the same Art Class, that you shared with Simeon as well. Asmo usually sat on the opposite side of the room, so he didn't have to worry about interacting with you too much. Yet, it's kinda hard to avoid a certain someone when he's your partner for a rather important project. Being partners with you wasn't something that he expected since just about everyone in the class would've jumped at the opportunity, but according to the teacher you were paired together since you lived together. Seeing as the teacher slipped away before Asmo could charm them into changing their mind, he was stuck with you as a project partner. As much as he might've liked to skip out on it, Lucifer had been hounding about his grades lately and he wasn't doing the best in Art. He resigned himself to his fate as he texted you a location to meet him in HOL, reassuring himself that he'd at least get maybe a semi-decent portrait out of the whole thing. You were known as a fairly good painter from what he heard from his classmates, and it was rather hard to know so much about painting and mess up his beautiful face, right?

Setting the needle down onto the record, you carefully adjusted the volume of the music before returning to the work area you had already set up with your supplies. The vinyl in particular was one you retrieved from the Human World once you had returned to your home temporarily to gather your belongings, the album specifically being one of the indie band's most popular due to the melodious harps tied into each track. You figured it would make decent background noise as you painted Asmodeus, since it was unlikely that the demon would engage you with anything other than basic small talk. A decent variety of mediums were lined up along the base of your easel, with your portfolio neatly set in the middle of the wooden structure. As much as you were aware, the Avatar of Lust could be a rather picky person when it came to his appearance in things people would see, so you had decided to just give him his choice of medium and style in order to give him less about the final product to worry about.

You were beginning to think that he had flaked out on you when the doors to the Music Room opened, revealing the demon you were looking for in his glory. With how much time he'd taken to get down there, you would've thought he was putting on an elaborate outfit and makeup, but unless his usual appearance is incredibly complicated you doubted that. Sighing, you removed your portfolio from the easel and waved him to approach you. "Since you haven't seen much of my works, I figured that you could just look at what I have here. Just tell me whatever one strikes your fancy, and I'll try and replicate the style and medium." After placing the large binder in his hands, you returned to your stool in front of the easel and waited. Hearing a scoff sound from behind you, you stared straight ahead as you waited for Asmo to make his decision.

What Asmodeus had expected when he opened the pages of your portfolio was a set of basic, amateur level paintings that maybe increase in quality as you dive deeper into it. But what he held in his hands was something that probably could've never guessed, even if his life had been on the line. The sections had been labelled by era for convenience, starting in the 16th century and ending in the current one. Pulling back the opaque plastic covering, Asmo was met with a carefully preserved painting that looked like it belonged in the Renaissance era exhibit of a famous Art Museum. The piece itself was of an extraordinary quality, in both looks and preservation. Even as he flipped through the other works from different eras, the initial piece found itself stuck on his mind. "Hey, Mc, you made this, right?" He suddenly spoke from behind you, turning the portfolio to face you. Stretching and turning, you gave the piece a quick once over before nodding. "Yeah. It's pretty old, but if that's what you want I can do my best." "You're absolutely certain?" "I painted that thing for an entire month Asmodeus, I may be old but I'm pretty sure I'd remember my first decent painting." You tried to disguise the annoyance in your voice, settling on simply staring at him with a bored expression. "...Then this style is fine."

As you thought, Asmo was silent as he stared at you from the other stool you had set up for him to sit on. You were too busy collecting the art supplies that you needed and selecting a canvas to care too much about the way his eyes followed your every move. But as you settled back onto your stool he suddenly spoke again, making you peer around the canvas to look at him. "Where did you learn to paint like that?" "The one you picked out? Or did you mean the others in my portfolio? I've had many teacher over the years, you'll need to be more specific." Awaiting his answer, you began taking in the details of his form into your mind. "That Renaissance painting." Beginning to ready your palette, you leaned away and replied. "Ah, that. Well, I don't exactly feel it proper to call the man who taught me to make that my teacher." "What would you call him?" In surprise, you choked on your breath for a moment. Clearing your throat with a cough, you continued to speak, as not to waste an opportunity for an actually conversation with him. It wasn't often that Asmo showed any interest in things that involved you, after all. "Well, uhm, you could potentially call our relationship something of a casual one. Not heavily romantic or smitten, but not platonic either." "Ohhh, so what you're saying is you would have sex with him." A sputtering cough shook your lungs as your hands barely managed to keep you from spilling paint onto the tarped floor. "Y-yeah we did do that, but that wasn't everything. Mostly he just wanted some company is all, and I adored his companionship, so when we both weren't busy or in the mood we would just hang out and stuff. During those times he taught me how to paint."

With the most awkward portion of the discussion of your past partner out of the way, your conversation flowed more and more freely whilst your brushes glided across the canvas. No detail was spared as you began openly speaking to the demon in front of you, who was surprisingly an attentive listener. Halfway through the process of painting, he asked another question that caught you off guard. "Wouldn't your relationship have been illegal at the time? I can't imagine how upset the Catholic Church would've been." "Eh, I didn't really give a damn what they thought. The opinions of others on myself and my relationships have never really mattered to me anyway. As long as the person I've fallen in love with is safe and happy, I'll be fine. Plus, we stopped seeing each other after he took up that job for the Sistine Chapel anyway." You chuckled dryly, setting the brush in your hand down as you reached for your D.D.D. to check the time. "I hate to cut this short Asmodeus, but we'll have to continue this later. I'd prefer not to get an earful from Lucifer about being later for dinner and I'm sure that afterwards you-" "Asmo. Just call me Asmo. It's kinda weird hearing you address me by my full name." The Avatar of Lust's heart suddenly fluttered as a soft smile crossed your features. "Got it, Asmo."

By far Asmodeus was the least subtle of the brothers in his approach towards you, mostly because daily it would be just the two of you alone in the Music Room together. He would pose was you painted, chatting with you intermittently whilst your brush glided across the canvas. Once the painting had been completed to both yours and Asmo's satisfactions, you had begun speaking with him on a regular basis outside of your time in the Music Room. On the topic of the piece of art, though it did not completely resemble the style you were trying to replicate the way you had painted it just felt more "Asmo" to you. It had some of the features the original painting had, but you found your hand painting different details in that didn't quite match the era, but did match the personality of your model that had begun to shine through in your little talks. Something the Avatar of Lust wouldn't tell you until a little later is that he had asked the teacher for the original copy of the painting once the project display was completed, so that he could hang it up in his room near his vanity.

To the displeasure of his brothers who still weren't too fond of you, he had begun to show you some of the same friendly affection that he often showed his brothers and close friends. Hugging, hand holding, playful teasing, and other such occurrences became commonplace between the two of you.

Having now spoken with you for quite a while, he had begun to find some qualities about you that he found somewhat interesting, but not quite interesting enough to suddenly form a pact with you. You would still have to go through the same trials at Lord Diavolo's castle as you normally would've, allowing Asmo to see the magical energy passed from Lilith onto you in action. Only then did he choose to form a pact with you and begin letting you become genuinely closer with him, rather than the sort of pseudo-, but also semi-, fondness he had shown you beforehand.

Once you had both reached a certain level of comfort in each other's presence, he began to show you a more vulnerable side to himself. But even with that, Asmo still held back some of his own insecurities from your eyes, an unfamiliar feeling of nervousness inside of him growing at the thought of how you might see him once you saw the truest form of himself. This metaphorical dam slowly began to crack more and more as he found himself spending time around you at an increasing rate, only to burst upon your demise after Belphie was released from the Attic.

Truthfully, the demon had no clue what to do when him and his brothers found your dying form lying on the ground. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he stared at his older brother cradling you in his arms, loud enough to drown out Mammon's sorrowful weeping that slowly infected him as well. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he reached to grasp your limp hand by the wrist, eyes darting between the brothers who knew the most about healing magic as well as your murderer. He felt oddly deflated and weak, as if his soul had been flattened like an open balloon and his body would collapse in on itself should he let go of your wrist. The beating of his heart stopped for a moment as your body suddenly disintegrated, only to come back full force at the sound of your voice from the top of the stairs.

Following the incident, Asmo became even more latched onto your side from before. It the "day"time he would still act like his usual self around you, albeit slightly more attentive to your wellbeing and general mood, but in the night his more vulnerable side leaked out like a river. Initially these sudden declines in his guarded nature were reserved for the dead of night when you were in a deep state of sleep, but he began allowing you to fully see that side of him one night after you woke up in the middle of one of his declines from a nightmare.

You didn't exactly remember what all had happened in the rather frightening dream, only that you had woken up squirming and gasping for breath in the Avatar of Lust's arms. "Are you alright, Mc?!" He fussed, taking your head into his hands and examining you for any sort of injuries. Allowing your lungs to take heavy gulps of air, a sudden dampness on your face distracted you from the fading constrictions of your chest. At first, you had thought it to have been your own tears rolling down your cheeks, but you soon realized that the droplets had been landing onto you from above. From Asmo's own eyes that darted around erratically, staring at you in every other location until they rested into your gaze. His lip trembled as the teardrops began to fall more rapidly, an involuntarily hiccup now shaking his own diaphragm. He trembled under your touch as you wrapped an arm around his waist, the other moving to rest your hand against the back of his head. Gently, you ran your fingertips through his scalp in soothing motions, pressing down light enough to lead his head to rest in the crook of your neck. "I'm okay, I promise." "M-Mc, as much as I love your embrace, I'm the one who's supposed to comfort you. N-not the other way around." Heart-wrenching sobs racked his body as his hands grasped at the sheets underneath you, clenching and releasing with each cry he muffled into your shoulder. "You don't need to bottle everything up for my sake Asmo, you can let it all out. I won't judge you for crying, y'know?"

After that night, he fully came to terms with the extent that his sister had loved you and the reasons why. Recalling conversations of long ago, you were just as much of a kind and adventurous soul that she had described. With all of that said, only one question plagued his mind regarding you. How could anyone not fall in love with a man like you, himself included?

Beelzebub:

The manner in which Beelzebub had thought of you initially was similar to the way he would've thought of some lesser creature that one of his brothers had brought into the house like one would a pet. Like how a human who wasn't a stranger to butchery would view their sibling's new pet chicken. You were weak and needed to be looked after of, but also something that could make a decent meal if not for their owner's attachment to them. It was fairly obvious to those involved that the Exchange Program would very well crumble at the seams should any harm come to you, so eating you was off the table.

Beelzebub had interacted with you infrequently prior to your conversation with Lucifer, though most conversations could be summed up easily as small talk. He had slowly started to began to put in some effort into being around you once his brothers had gotten a little more friendly with you, finding it almost heart-warming the way that Mammon seemed to hang around you like a lost puppy and Leviathan eagerly tugged on your sleeve and rambled about his interests and hobbies. Perhaps if you had spoken with Lucifer later, both of you may have bonded a little more than the very baseline friendship that you shared.

Though he wasn't the last of his brothers to find out, Beel had been in the dark for a short period of time. Actually, he had been planning on asking you to accompany him to Hell's Kitchen as a sort of congratulations for sort of winning the TSL Quiz, his treat of course. But once the news of your past reached him, the extra "All You Can Eat!" voucher he had gotten for you now sat crumpled in the bottom of the communal bathroom's trash can. He was unsure as to what exactly had deeply upset him about the sudden news, but he was upset nonetheless. Perhaps it was because you had reminded him of a guilt he still struggled with, the guilt of failing to protect his sister. Maybe he had begun to shift some of the blame for Lilith's demise onto you at some point, seeing as she had started the Celestial War to prevent your death. Or maybe Beel saw you as someone unworthy of his sibling's love and adoration, some random guy that had swept his sister off her feet who was the same as any other human, similar to Asmo. It was hard to accurately place his feelings towards you, and this only unsettled and discomforted him more.

Avoiding you wasn't something that the Avatar of Gluttony had to put much effort into doing. It wasn't often that you crossed paths or spent long periods of time in close proximity, as before he mostly only came into contact with you when you'd be around his brothers. All he really had to do was stop talking to you to fully ignore you. Occasionally you'd try and speak with him, Beel would cut the conversation short by using Fangol or his hunger as an excuse to leave your general vicinity. It became a common situation that he would wriggle out of talking with you, using the excuse of needing to go to Fangol practice that moment or he would be late, only for you to later realize it as a lie when you saw him talking to some of his teammates in the hallway as you walked by with your silent Guardian Demon. Eventually you took the hint and gave up approaching him, resigning yourself to a melancholic silence in his presence.

Following your resignation in seeking him out, he would at times occasionally forget you were still in the House of Lamentation and living with them. If it weren't for the brief moments he'd see you at meals or Mammon's complaining, Beel would've thought that you had moved into the Purgatory Hall by now. There were even times where he wouldn't even see you at meals at all, not noticing the fact that the extra serving of food in that night's dinner had been meant for you and not something to keep him from snacking on his brother's plates.

One night, Beelzebub had been the one to seek you out. Not of his own volition, but rather at the request of Lucifer in order to get you to come in for dinner. Where he found you was quite an unexpected location for a vulnerable human in the Devildom, a secluded corner of HOL's garden that if he hadn't heard strange noises coming from he probably would not have found.

A soft smile crossed you face as you sat down on the bench, carefully removing a very precious object from your bag as you hid away in your favorite spot in the garden. The instrument glistened brightly in the moonlight, illuminating your surroundings in such a manner that made your harp appear as it was glowing. Sliding your fingertip gently along one of the strings, you couldn't help but admire Simeon's handiwork. The harp was something of an ancient relic by itself due to its age, made apparent by the wear and tear it had acquired over the years despite your best efforts of preservation. It had meant a lot to you that the Angel you had slowly come to view as a friend had repaired the object for you, not only because of the effort he had put into its restoration, but also the meaning behind the harp itself.

With trembling fingers, you gently plucked at on of the strings. The soft hum the vibrating chord let out released a deep sigh from your chest, a feeling of tranquility vibrating throughout your body as the sound faded out. You tested out a few more of the chords, getting a feeling for the different pitches of each string. While it didn't sound exactly as you had remembered it, you couldn't find it in yourself to complain about the miniscule detail. It had been hard enough already to find someone capable of repairing a Celestial harp, let alone anyone who could bring the instrument back to an almost brand new quality.

In the beginning, you had just been strumming without any real rhyme or reason, trying to adjust yourself to playing the harp that you had stopped yourself from even touching for many, many years. Slowly, your inconsistent notes feel into a familiar order, becoming more and more complete until it had became a proper song. The song was one deeply ingrained into your mind and perhaps even your soul, one that you could never forget even if you tried. As your fingertips glided across the strings, memories of a flower field came to mind. It was almost as if when you shut your eyes you could feel a pair of soft hands covering your own, guiding you to play each note with the gentleness and warmth of a summer's breeze. With each note that sounded into the hidden area, you could feel it reverberate in your chest, like you had been plucking at your own heartstrings rather than a musical instrument. You had almost reached the climax of the song when the sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, snapping you out of your dazed stated. Turning towards the sound, you locked eyes with a pair of violet ones.

Practice had been rather rough for Beelzebub, and the demon was looking forward to returning home. Lucifer was on cooking duty for the night, so Beel couldn't afford to miss it. It wasn't as if he didn't enjoy his other brothers' cooking, but something about the way the Eldest cooked made it taste so incredibly delicious. Plus, it wasn't often that Lucifer prepared dinner. The enticing scent of his brother's cooking flooded out of the doors as he entered the House of Lamentation, drawing him to pursue the source. Beel had almost made it through the doorframe of the kitchen, when an invisible barrier suddenly blocked his path. Oh, Lucifer must've cursed it to keep him out again. But even through the thick door and strong curse, Luci could still hear the resounding thud when Beel had hit the barrier. Slowly, the eldest cracked the door to the Kitchen open just enough to see him, speaking an order to him quickly before closing the door once more.

Thus, Beel began searching for you throughout HOL, his stomach growling viciously all the while. Though he'd loved to have given up by now and just gone to eat, Lucifer had specifically said that he wouldn't be allowed dinner should he not find you. Seeing as the punishment had happened before, Beel knew that his brother wasn't messing around with him and would keep his word. A bundle of distress had began to form as he strolled through more and more rooms, finding no trace of you in any of them. His brothers didn't have any clue where you had gone off too as well, surprised that Beel hadn't found you in your room as usual. There were only three places you might be at this point, and with the other options being the Catacombs and the jaws of some random lesser demon, he headed towards the garden first. Maybe you had gotten lost in it somehow, chasing after some sort of scaly-backed rabbit or some lost homework. But as an entrancing song began to sound from one of the farther corners, the idea that you may have been lured in by a siren came to mind.

As he approached, the song became clearer. The first thing he recognized about it was the instrument type, a harp that left a twinkling feeling in its general vicinity. This effect was common for Celestial harps, something that Beel had not heard nor seen since after the Fall. Vinyl's and recordings could not accurately sound and feel the same as the actual harp, so it was off the table that you could have just been playing something off of your D.D.D., leaving him with only one conclusion. Somehow a harp from the Celestial Realm had made its way into the garden of the Seven Avatars of Hell, and someone was playing a tune that Beel nearly knew by heart. Finally, he made a turn into a clearing that had been hidden by a pair of branches that were easily nudged away. A familiar scent of honeysuckle and lavender struck his senses as he entered the space, finding you seated on a bench with something clutched closely to your chest. A Celestial Harp with very distinct engravings running along its golden surface.

"Beelzebub? What are you doing here?" Your eyebrow raised, lowering your defensive posture slightly. The slow relaxation of your arms gave him an even better look at the object in your grasp. "Beelzebub, did you need something? Why are you getting so close-" "That harp. That's one of Lilith's." His form cast a shadow over you even in the dark, and the way the moonlight highlighted his features made the way that he loomed over you even more intimidating. "I- ehm, yes. Lilith gave me this harp as a gift, a very long time ago." You had closed your eyes to try and add a little confidence to your words, but they snapped open at a sudden shift in weight on the bench underneath you. "Can you play that song again?" "I... I guess?"

The way that you played this time was far more shaken and nervous than it had been prior, but you eventually lost yourself to the music and properly played the chords. You longed to feel the sensation of your memories as you had done before, but a different feeling coursed through you with the flow of the rhythm. Closing your eyes did not make you feel as if you were in a different place, but rather made you more in tune with your surroundings. Each object created a sort of aura that lit up your brain, as if it were some strange type of echolocation. The aura that struck you the most radiated from the demon sat beside you, this warm red that came in pulsations with hollow gaps in between. It reminded you of the very first time Lilith had taught you the song, whispering into your ears to feel the life all around you. Eventually the song came to a close and you opened your eyes.

"That's a song that they always used to teach young Angels in the Celestial Realm. Despite being a kid's song, Lilith always loved it and would play it whenever she had the chance." Your gaze locked onto Beelzebub as he leaned forward on the bench. "Lily always played it when she would wait for me in our meeting place. She liked to call it 'Our Song' and really wanted me to learn it. So, we spent years going over the same tune until I knew it by heart. Even now it is engraved into my very soul." A fond expression crossed your face at the memory. For a moment it was silent, until the sound of your text ringtone went off. Several messages from Lucifer lit up the screen, inquiring of your location. "Oh, it's dinner time already? Why didn't you tell me?" Beel didn't respond, still sitting in silence. You had begun to get up and walk back towards HOL, before his hand suddenly grabbed you by the wrist. It was a bit of a stronger grip than you would've liked, but you could tell even then he was holding back. "Did you need something, Beel?"

"...Mc, can you play that again for me some other time?"

In the beginning, Beelzebub simply just wanted to hear that song again and again. Songs played on a Celestial harp weren't just something you could record the audio of and play it back or even played on a different instrument, they needed to be experienced in person on an Angel's harp. The days that he pulled you away into the secret spot in the garden were at random, but slowly increased in frequency over time. It reached a point where you would keep the harp on your person just in case Beel wanted to hear it. Originally, neither of you would talk following the performance of the song unless it was about Lilith, but over time the talks about his sister faded away and were replaced with talks about each other's days and questions exchanged about personal interests, histories, and such. The song slowly became an excuse to be around you, rather than just a simple desire to hear what he had known as "Lilith's Song".

You were beginning to grow on him, and when you had the gall to protect him and Luke he began to develop respect for you. Once, he had thought of you as a reminder of his failure and the Celestial War, but he had begun to see you as an equal now. A human worthy of his pact, despite the complicated history they shared together. The scent of lavender and honeysuckle had been something he used to avoid, tying it to you being nearby, but now it was something Beel wanted to be surrounded by. It was a smell that reminded him not only of you, but of Lilith as well.

While he had disliked you in every meaning of the word before fully getting to know you, something he had never truly wanted was for you to pass on. And after getting to actually know you, the desire to keep you safe and especially alive bloomed and grew. So finding you in a battered heap at the bottom of the staircase torn his heart in two. He could sense the way Belphie felt towards you and understood his contempt, but an unfamiliar anger boiled deep inside of him. Beel couldn't bring himself to hate his twin in any regard, but still he was upset by his actions. This inner turmoil left him rooted in place, staring with very minimal reactions other than despair and sorrow. Once again he had failed to protect someone he loved, a thought that ate away at him as he watched you die in Mammon's arms.

Prior to the Attic incident, most of the time you spent with Beelzebub was very contact free. Just simple discussions or comfortable silence, perhaps with a brief touch when he'd pass you a piece of food that he wanted you to try. But following your demise and later revival, Beel seemed to want to touch you as much as possible. If he wasn't having you sit on his lap or vice versa, he enjoyed being pressed up against your side. Particularly with one of his hands resting against one of your pressure points so he could feel your heartbeat.

Nightmares were something he had on occasions, but none were more frequent than the nights following your death. Most of them were just replayings of the event, but sometimes the dreams could be incredibly cruel. Mixing your death with Lilith's, mocking voices surrounding him, showing his brain's interpretation of Belphie killing you that made him feel even more like he could've prevented it, or all of those things at once and more. Waking up from a particularly nasty dream sent him seeking you out immediately, needing to make sure that you're alive and okay. Though usually just feeling your pulse or having a brief conversation with you would soothe the ache caused by the nightmare, he found that he couldn't properly sleep unless you at least slept in the same room.

Beelzebub knew his devotion to you from the moment he formed a pact with you, one made out of respect rather than the transactional agreements commonplace in many others he formed before yours. But the sensation that Lilith had always felt for you was a gradual increase that sprouted from your times in the garden. From a mutual respect grew fondness and longing, steadily blooming into what his little sister called "love". This bloom truly burst one night as you lay slightly together, his arms holding you close to his chest as you willingly nuzzled against him. Shockwaves of warmth and fullness coursed through his veins at the action, and he pulled you in tighter. In that moment he deeply understood why Lilith had done such a stupid and reckless thing to save your life. If it he been him and you in that situation, he too would've done the same.

Belphegor:

Belphegor knew your face long before the Celestial War. Like his sister, he too had been fascinated with Humans, perhaps even more than Lilith had. When Lilith had first met you, you had met her brother not too long afterwards since Belphie had come to retrieve her before the others noticed them missing. He grew to know you as Lilith's friend, and later Lilith's lover, a man that he would recall the face of when his sister would go about her lovestruck ramblings despite hardly knowing you himself. But after the Fall your face was nothing but a stain on his mind. His contempt for humanity rose more and more by the century, with you as personification for the whole species.

So when the very person that he felt to be the sole cause of his sister's demise ascended up the stairs, he recognized you in an instant. Surprisingly you did as well, rushing over to the bars with a worried expression. His blood boiled at the way you called him "Belphie", gritting his teeth and digging his nails into his palms to keep him from desperately swiping at you from the bars. The desire to escaped his confinement tripled the moment he locked eyes with you, if it weren't for the bars that separated you he likely would've ripped you to shreds. But, he needed to stay calm. There was no way he would be able to get out of the Attic without your help, and if he made too much of an uproar it may alert Lucifer to his plans. Ditching the plan to trick you into thinking he was a human, he tried his best to convince you that he was still an Angel. Sadly for him, you weren't as naïve as you may have been all those years ago and he confessed his true form. Only after that did you agree to help him. Watching you descend the stairs, he began plotting your downfall.

Reasonably, he was upset when you had confided in his brothers the truth about your identity after meeting him. Putting distance between yourself and his brothers put a heavy dent in his plan, since you would need all of their pacts in order to destroy the barrier keeping him locked away. The night you had told him he had stormed away from the bars in a huff, and refused to talk to you every time you would return to the attic door after. Only after you repaired your bond with Beel did he speak to you, but it took the formation of Satan's pact for Belphie to actually look at you.

Your conversations with each other were always brief and stinted, unless Belphegor began to feel your trust in him slipping. He'd put on the façade of kindness whenever you began to grow hesitant to go along with his plans, empty promises and forced pleasantries flowing easily through his lips. These "sweet" moments made him grow angrier at you as well, but not just because he was talking to you. Something about speaking with you in such a kind and attentive manner pissed him off to no end, only made worse by the residual feeling of uncertainty you left him with each time. Uncertainty not in your trust in him, but his own ability to fully enact his plans. The very thought that he may not have actually wanted to kill you all along infuriated him.

But once he found you standing alongside his bed in the Attic with the door open behind you, the uncertainty he held was drowned underneath the waves of the ocean of resentment and anger that had built up over the years. A sudden feeling of unbridled joy overtook him as you gasped for air whilst he strangled you, the joy carrying over and growing in intensity as you drew closer and closer to death. Even as his brothers crowded around you he felt nothing but the rush of adrenaline he had gotten from seeing the despair and betrayal in your eyes. And then, seeing your teary-eyed form reappear alive at the top of the stairs crying joyfully about the tales of Lilith's second life as a human, left him feeling nothing but hollow.

Though he may have acted with a fondness and admiration towards you following your revival, Belphegor couldn't shake this feeling of remorse. And how could he not? He had killed the very man that his sister had loved so dearly, her love that transcended beyond her first and second demises. While he did want to repair his relationships with you and his brothers for what he had done, for a while he just avoided you entirely. Avoiding you was something difficult since you seemed to almost always actively seek him out, so one of the only escapes he could use was sleeping. Belphegor was aware that you didn't like waking him up and bothering him unless necessary, so he pulled the sudden slumbers out of the blue quite often.

To fully avoid thinking of you though, he couldn't be in his own dreams. If he did have a dream it often involved you, and no amount of dream manipulation could get you out of it once you were there. So, he went into the dreams of others instead. Most of the time it was of lesser demons who just happened to be asleep at the time, or occasionally it was one of his brothers'. Unfortunately, it seemed that a divine force was getting very upset with this dancing act he played with you, because one night he found himself stuck in one of yours.

Initially, the Avatar of Sloth had thought he was in the dreams of some random lesser demon. The open valley in front of him wasn't something he was at all familiar with, and from the amount of discarded armor and dried blood on the ground it didn't seem like a place he would've wanted to be anyway. His attempts at changing anything in the dream were strangely ineffective, and it seemed all he could really do inside of it was wander about and watch. Shuffling through the mounds of metal, he found himself at the edge of a campsite. While the area itself lacked any living beings entirely, a transparent illusion hung over the deserted scenery. One of a grand feast, adventurers clinking together mugs of ale and chatting over heaping plates of meats and fruits.

A certain person at the center of it all stood out to him. The face of a man he could never truly forget. Belphie wanted to run and get out of your dream as fast as possible, but curiosity held a tight grip on him and only beckoned him closer. You appeared overjoyed in the scene before him, happily downing another mug as you spoke in a tongue he'd never heard you use to a man next to you. The merriment of the atmosphere around you was infectious, and it almost brought a smile to his face. Almost. Because any sort of joy he got from seeing you so happy was quickly replaced with despair.

The man you had been so eagerly chatting with had seemed like a friend of yours at the time, reciprocating the same friendly conversation with you as you had given to him. Yet, seeing the way that he now stood over you, bleeding out onto the ground, he no longer looked like a friend. A tremble had set into his fingertips as he watched the sudden scene of betrayal, noticing each and every detail of the exchange. The way the stranger had for a moment lovingly cradled your face before quite literally stabbing you in the back, scurrying away as the drunken fools surrounding you finally caught on to the situation at hand. Dread filled his mind as he slowly backed away from the scene before him, unable to look away until he could no longer see you behind the crowd surrounding you. Had someone betrayed you in such a way before? Or was this your way of coping with his betrayal of you? He no longer had to wonder these thoughts any longer, as he backed straight into someone.

It wasn't unusual that you would dream of past events, memories of times long gone. They weren't always pleasant, as that'd be impossible without outside interference, but the bad dreams didn't effect you as much as they used to. You could still be caught off guard by certain things or deeply immersing dreams, but most of the time your dreams were reacted to with indifference. As such, the memory of tonight's dream wasn't one that really effected you. You remembered the location fairly well upon waking up in the medic's tent, and as you exited you prepared yourself to rewatch the memory as you had before. What you weren't prepared to see however, was a trespasser in your dreams. A very familiar demon with a cow pillow clutched tightly to his chest. While a part of you wanted to call out to him and ask him why he was here, you were more curious of his reaction to the scene before you. It wasn't often that people would enter your dreams or used spells to watch your memories, and their reactions were almost always interesting. Standing behind him now, you waited for the scene to conclude before confronting him.

As he backed into you, you lazily wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his shoulder. You could feel him jolt but not pull away, eliciting a soft chuckle from you. "Whatcha' doing here Belphie?" He didn't respond, but the discomforted hums and way his eyes darted about were decent enough as an answer. "Eh, why you're here doesn't really matter. Did ya' like the show?" "...No. Why would someone like that?" In response you shrugged, releasing him from your grip and sitting down on the ground next to him. "This memory in particular just always reminded me of a stageplay is all. Perhaps Simeon could use it in one of his stories." You brought a hand to rest underneath your chin in a thoughtful pose. "Have you been betrayed liked this before?" Belphie spoke, still standing up next to you. The way he balled up his fists and looked away from you made it clear that the dream was upsetting to him. "I guess you could say that. But I guess it makes sense in this context, y'know? Assassination attempts on war strategists were pretty commonplace back then. It's nothing I'm not used to after all, I've had far worse."

The silence following that statement was almost deafening, enough that it made you uncomfortable to the point where you'd have to talk about the elephant in the room. "Don't worry about the whole Attic thing, Belphie. It's fine, I'm not mad at you." A sudden sniffle caught your attention, drawing you eyes towards Belphegor. He still refused to look at you, but the way his shoulders shook made it clear he was holding back tears. Reaching out a hand, you grasped his wrist and gently tried to tug him to the ground beside you. This action seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, as the Avatar of Sloth crumpled onto the ground beside you, curling in on himself. "Belph-" "Why? Why aren't you mad?" He sobbed. You paused, taking in the situation before you moved closer to him. Of course he tried to recoil from your touch, but once you trapped him in a sort of sitting down hug he knew that unless he gave you a really strong kick you weren't going to let go of him. "Belphie, I was upset at first. Being betrayed and stuff isn't the most fun thing in the world. But, I'm not mad. I'm not claiming that I know what you've been going through all these years, but I do understand your struggle. Your contempt for the world that took someone you loved so dearly away from you. If I was in your situation, I feel that I likely would've done the same." Another sob racked his body as you ran a hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact as you brought him closer to your chest. "I've come to terms with everything and I do forgive you. All I hope is that you can forgive yourself."

In the morning, Belphegor wasn't in his room when Beelzebub had come to wake him up for RAD. His twin was certainly surprised when Lucifer said that you and him had asked to take the day off of school with the excuse of being sick, but decided to simply ask the two of you about it once he got home. Unbeknownst to the rest of HOL, both of you sat in your room, snuggled closely together as a movie played on the nearby television. The tears that stained Belphie's face were slowly fading, as the pact mark on the base of your neck glowed a faint purple.

Forming a pact with you after that night was a sort of promise on his part. A promise to never allow harm to come to you ever again, by his hands or otherwise. It was a spur of the moment idea that he took and ran with, something largely uncommon for the Avatar of Sloth. If he was forming a pact under any circumstances he would've spent time and thought out what the individual was offering to him in trade, but he threw himself into the pact as soon as he had woken up from your dream. He didn't quite care what lie you had told to his older brother about your absence for the day, all he really wanted to do was spend it with you. Your touch had suddenly become intoxicating, and the scent of honeysuckle and lavender was now deeply engraved into his memory. Even if his brothers had already explained everything about pacts to you before, he made sure that you knew just as much control you had over him. He wanted to make you feel secure around him, and know that he would never want or try to hurt you again.

While he may be at your command, Belphie is still quite mischievous and lazy. It takes a bit to fade back into it, but the way he treats you now is more akin to how he treats his brothers, albeit in your case a little more intimate. Should you be seated anywhere in his vicinity and dare to have nothing taking up the space on your lap, you best believe that you'll gain a new lap warmer within the minute he sees you.

Besides Beel, he really doesn't have any desire to share your precious time with any of his brothers, the Royals, or the Purgatory Hall. Complaining about it to him gets them nowhere, as he simply nuzzles himself into your neck deeper and uses the excuse of having spent the least time with you.

A feeling that you accidentally kickstarted within him is the spark of curiosity he had long ago about Humanity. You are pretty much the closest thing to a living Human History book, and if you remember a certain event he's going to probably ask you about it. At times Belphie can be as deeply interested in listening to you speak on a topic as Satan, but you have to be careful about certain details. Bringing up foul and painful memories makes both of you uncomfortable and lengthy, uninteresting things make him fall asleep, so you have to cherry pick certain things. The topic he finds himself most interested in oddly enough is basic household appliances in the Human World, besides the refrigerator. Belphegor now desperately wants a Roomba to take over when its his turn to vacuum, but gets upset every time that he sees that they aren't on Akuzon.

Belphie thinks a lot about the Attic incident and your forgiveness of him. While he still may not forgive himself from doing such a thing, he slowly coming to terms with it as well and making steps to better himself and your relationship. You often make sure to let him know to take as much time as he needs, seeing as you aren't going to die of old age anytime soon. He does not like that joke.

It takes a very, very long while for him to be open and honest about his own nightmares that involve you. He can't bring himself to describe the details of them to you, and even recalling the events of the dream is painful enough as is. If you're asleep while one of these dreams are going on he'll often escape to your dreams, unless the one you're having is much worse. He'd rather sit through another one of Mammon's money dreams than watch something terrible happen to you, even if you say that those memories don't effect you.

Coming to terms with how deeply he truly cares for you is a bit of a rocky road. Sure, he doesn't want to see you hurt and thrives off your happiness, but he also feels guilty about his past actions still. It takes some time, but he eventually allows himself to begin indulging in your happiness and joy instead of hanging around and cuddling with you just to give you brief moments of joy. Over time he realizes just what he felt about you, a feeling that had built up from the moment he'd first met you snowballing into the current day. Something that Lilith had always told him about. That feeling was love.

Out of all his brothers, Belphegor is the most insistent on you remaining in the Devildom. It would make a lot of things easier for you as a whole since you wouldn't have to keep moving around and lying about your identity, and he also just really wanted to keep you around.