Chapter Text
Once Diavolo left, I wasn’t too keen on sticking around for dinner (especially since a certain gentle giant swiped my food from my plate as we were arguing), so I decided to head to my room.
On my way out, I catch a brief glance from Belphie. His face is cold, but the intense sensation on my left thigh where his pact mark resides tells me he’s doing his typical act of hiding his true feelings. As our eyes lock into each other, his mark becomes hot and uncomfortable, radiating from my thigh to my entire body. I clench my leg to try and subdue the discomfort while I do my best to hobble to my room.
No such luck though. Once I turn the corner I instantly run into the waiting arms of none other than Belphie himself. Dammit, I forgot how fast they are, even the lazy one.
All too quickly, he’s crowding me into the nearest wall. My breath catches in my throat as he grips my forearms. I’m not sure what to focus on, his intense stare or the gentle way his fingers glide over my exposed skin. He hovers just a few centimeters away from my body, merging into my space so casually. He’s acting like this is the most natural thing in the world for us, and all it’s doing is lighting my anger and arousal to heights I haven’t felt in years. He always knew how to disarm me in a way the others never could. The lingering stares, the subtle caresses, the late-night rendezvouses in the attic…
He knows the effect he’s having on me too as he coyly smiles and lifts his thumb to rest underneath my chin; the discomfort in his pact mark is soon replaced with a tingling, delicate sensation telling me he’s feeling playful.
“Been a while, hasn’t it? Nice to know I still have this effect on you,” he says nonchalantly.
That earns him a scoff. “You mean the effect of disgust at your annoying lack of boundaries and social skills? Oh yeah, you still got it,” I counter.
“Oh, so a lack of boundaries and social skills makes you feel this aroused and pissed off? Good to know,” he quips back and raises a challenging eyebrow. Dammit, I forgot he was the best at sarcastic banter.
Well, two can play this game. “Oh yeah, your dazzling personality and sunny disposition are really making me wet for you. Anywho, you have about 3 seconds to back away from me before I flay you alive and feed you to Beel.”
He lightly chuckles as he disregards my hollow threat. “You still have that fire I remember. It’s been boring here since you left, I missed you.” There’s a glint in his eyes filled with adoration and love as he says this, but it just puts me on edge. He recognizes the shift in me immediately. He continues to invade my space but removes his hand from my chin, signaling he doesn’t want to back away but is treading lightly.
“How convenient,” I spew out. “You say that as though I just left for a vacation or for shits and giggles. Not because of you and your slimy brothers.” I point back at him.
At this, he briefly balks and breaks eye contact. His face morphs from calm and controlled to pained and annoyed. Oh, and there goes that discomfort in my thigh again, dammit I hate these pact marks.
“You never let me explain,” he starts. “You just ran off whe-”
“When what? When I finally found the truth and ran away from the idiots who betrayed me? Who lied to me about everything? My childhood? My powers?”
He continues, ignoring my jabs like I never said anything. Like it’s that easy to write me off. “They said it was for your own good.”
I’m not sure what I hate most, his deadpane tone or the fact that he’s defending Lucifer, the Psycho Prince, and the little Butler Boy.
“For my own good? Cmon, Belphie. You of all people should know what it’s like when others make decisions for you,” I counter back, hoping it hurts him as much as I want it to.
He presses on, slightly hurt but persistent: “You weren’t ready t-”
“To what? I wasn’t ready for what Belph?” To know who I am? To know what really happened to my parents? To know why all my life I kept destroying everything around me and couldn’t figure out why? Is that what I wasn’t ready to know?” I know I’m rambling at this point, and he does too, but I can’t help it. He out of all the brothers should understand what it’s like to have your choice taken away from you, to be caged in by what others think you can and can’t handle. The discomfort from his mark is nothing compared to the ache forming in my chest just thinking about it. At this point, it’s taking everything in me to not burn his hand that’s still resting on my arm.
But even seeing me getting worked up isn’t deterring him. He always wants the last word. “Just listen for once, I-”
Before he can say another word, I cut him off: “Stop telling me to listen!” Stop pretending like everything’s ok. Like you can still touch me like this. Just leave me alone.” I move to get out of his grasp, but his hold on my arm remains strong.
I’m tired of this. I concentrate all the heat in me to my arms and watch as he jumps away from me, now cradling his slightly charred hand. He’s lucky he has healing powers, or I’d do much worse to him than this.
As I begin to walk away, I hear him shout my name one more time. His tone is so desperate and needy, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I stop in my tracks and turn around to hear him one last time. “I never wanted this, MC. I wanted to tell you everything, I - I love you.”
All the energy and frustration in me dies down hearing those words, replaced with a small but notable flutter in my stomach. Dammit, what those words did to me back then. What they still do to me…
The first time he told me he loved me, I almost didn’t believe it. Hell, the only person he showed any slight attachment to was Beel. I never noticed how much he loved me too until we made our pact, and in that moment all the feelings he tried so hard to keep hidden rushed into my body. Shame, guilt, joy, devotion, hope; centuries' worth of emotions contained in such a lazy body. During the pact ceremony, I felt so overwhelmed by him I could barely breathe. After that, I completely understood how his grief for Lilith and hatred for humans could fester into something as dangerous as genocide. The demon felt deeper than any creature should. The brothers may fear Lucifer for his strength and Satan for his wrath, but the passion that Belphie loved and the intensity he scorned could easily burn all the realms. I guess that was one thing we always shared: we love too deeply and hate too hard, our feelings consume us. Maybe that was why I could forgive him the first time he killed me; I felt a kinship in his losing battle against his grief. He just chose to take his out on humans, I chose to take mine out on myself.
Nonetheless, when we made our pact, everything changed for us. I would’ve destroyed the whole world for him, even after he literally destroyed me. And I know he would’ve done the same for me, and probably still would. I saw his devotion in the adoring smiles and gentle touches he gave me any chance he got, and I see it now as he stands in front of me desperate for me to listen.
Staring back at him now, it would be so easy to just let him in. A brief moment of regret comes over me as I consider the possibility that maybe I was too harsh with him the day I left, maybe I should’ve listened to him, stayed with him…
But even as I consider this, I know I won’t turn back. I can’t. As I look him in his eyes, I know I want to tell him I still love him too, but it’s too late.
My voice cracks as I finally respond, “I know you still love me, but that’s not enough anymore. It changes nothing.” Tears of anguish and rage escape my eyes while I turn away from Belphie and finally walk to my room.
He doesn’t follow me.
Meanwhile in the Celestial Realm
“How dare that half-breed freak banish me from my own realm,” Professor Tintia seethes as she finally reaches the palace. Her charred hair falls down her shoulders in clumps of black strings, and her feet hurt from walking countless miles from the teleportation station. Usually, no self-respecting demon would ever set foot in the celestial realm, let alone a succubus demon who taught at the Devildom’s most prestigious school under the direct report of Diavolo, whose name isn’t so much as whispered in this realm. But the stares of awe and disdain did nothing to deter Tintia from her destination. The Devildom had long stopped being her home when Diavolo began welcoming half-demon scum into the school, into their society. Never mind that their very existence challenged the boundaries of inter-realm politics, but to belittle the centuries-old lineage of pure demon heritage with the weakness of humans was an insult to everything the higher realms stood for.
“Lucky I’m not the only one that thinks so,” Tintia thinks as she stops in front of the sky-high gates glowing with ethereal purity only the Celestial realm can achieve.
Before she could enter the palace, she is stopped by two guards adorned in white and gold amour, glaring at her with the same regal arrogance that began the Celestial war eons ago. “Take no step further, what business do you have at the palace? You know your kind isn’t welcomed here” asked the first guard.
Before she could growl back an equally rude response and march her way back to the Devildom, images of that half-breed fire maniac flashed in Tintia’s mind,
and suddenly her resolve solidified into a determined smile on her ghostly face. Staring directly into the eyes of this self-assured guard, she casts away all ties she ever had to the Devildom and embraces her new opportunity for revenge.
“I have information on a certain half-breed your ruler Michael has been looking for. MC, isn’t it? I think he’d be very interested to hear me out.”