8 Answers
If you want the purest take on a tiny demon introduced right away, 'Beelzebub' is probably the one you’re after. The baby Beelzebub is present from the beginning and functions almost like a co-lead: people rally around him, fights happen because of him, and his existence changes characters in meaningful (and absurd) ways. It’s not just a visual gag; the little devil is woven into the themes of chaos versus care.
If your taste skews toward a mischievous imp who narrates or steals scenes, then 'Yondemasu yo, Azazel-san.' places a small demon at the heart of many episodes. Both will make you laugh, though 'Beelzebub' hits harder on the delinquent-action side.
I've bounced between goofy and thoughtful picks, but to give a practical pair: for a tiny demon literally introduced as a central figure, pick up 'Beelzebub' — baby Beelzebub is present right from the start and shapes everything that follows. For a mischievous small demon who steals the spotlight in short, episodic gags, 'Yondemasu yo, Azazel-san.' is perfect; Azazel is cheeky, utterly shameless, and the tone is pure comedy.
Beyond those, if you broaden 'little' to mean impish or youthful rather than infant-sized, there are other series that toy with small demonic mascots, but those two cover the clearest interpretations. Both stuck with me because tiny devils can be so much more than monsters — they can be catalyst characters who make the whole storyscape wilder and somehow funnier, which I love.
I usually give quick recs, so here’s a compact rundown: if your idea of a 'little devil' is a tiny, impish demon who’s front-and-center in the comedy, check out 'Yondemasu yo, Azazel-san.' That series introduces Azazel, a small demon with pervy and chaotic tendencies, early on and revolves around his misadventures with a human exorcist team. It’s gag-heavy, often leans into adult humor, and treats Azazel like a central wild card rather than a background monster.
Another angle: if you’re okay with a minor being the devil (a baby demon), then 'Beelzebub' fits perfectly — the infant Beelzebub drives the plot from the start. For a more slice-of-life twist where demonic characters are youthful but not literally tiny, 'The Devil Is a Part-Timer!' casts a demon lord as the main character but in grown-up form. So, based on whether you want literal smallness or playful impishness, I’d pick 'Beelzebub' or 'Yondemasu yo, Azazel-san.' — both are hilarious in their own ways and stick in my head.
If you’re thinking older, more classic material, the title 'Akuma-kun' literally centers a small devilish figure as the protagonist in name and spirit. The manga presents a youthful, mischievous lead whose very name means ‘little devil,’ and the story follows his explorations of the supernatural world, summoning and negotiating with demon-like creatures while taking on adventures that are part whimsical, part moral fable. The charm comes from the protagonist being both impish and earnest — he’s small in stature and reputation at first, but his curiosity and stubbornness push the plot forward.
I find 'Akuma-kun' delightful for its retro pacing and the way it blends folklore-inspired monsters with kid-friendly adventure. It’s the kind of read that feels nostalgic and a bit whimsical, perfect when I want something that’s short, punchy, and a little mischievous — much like the protagonist himself.
Beelzebub is the first one that jumps to my mind — it's loud, ridiculous, and somehow impossibly charming. The series 'Beelzebub' opens with a delinquent high schooler, Tatsumi Oga, who ends up stuck caring for a tiny demon baby called Beelzebub IV (aka Baby Beel). Even though Oga gets billed as the human lead, the narrative constantly folds around Baby Beel: his demonic aura, his accidental displays of destructive power, and how everyone reacts to this pint-sized son of the Demon King. The baby is a kind of co-protagonist in practice — a literal little devil whose presence drives the plot, the fights, and half the gags.
What I love about it is how the series treats Baby Beel like both an object of comedy and a serious plot engine. The early chapters introduce him as a terrifying concept (son of the Demon King, foretold doom), then immediately undercut that by having him drool and crawl into trouble. The contrast creates the charm. Its tone mixes slapstick, absurd action, and evolving bonds — Oga begrudgingly grows into a guardian figure while demons, human delinquents, and exorcists keep showing up. If you're into loud shonen that blends over-the-top fights with ridiculous baby antics, 'Beelzebub' is a great pick.
On a personal note, I binged this one when I was between semesters and laughed more in the first volume than I had expected; Baby Beel's little tantrums are the kind of dumb joy that sticks with you.
There's a neat variety of manga that put diminutive demons in the spotlight, and I find the differences fascinating. One route is the literal baby-demon protagonist: 'Beelzebub' does this by physically attaching the infant to the human lead, which creates an oddball dynamic where the baby drives fights, alliances, and emotional beats. The structure of that story alternates between over-the-top battle comedy and surprisingly tender moments about guardianship.
On the comedy-centric side, 'Yondemasu yo, Azazel-san.' introduces Azazel — a small, mischievous demon whose scenes are often vignette-style, with each chapter delivering a new outrageous prank or punchline. That mangaka plays with short-form setups much more than long arcs, so the reading rhythm is different. If you prefer longer arcs with slam-bang energy, go 'Beelzebub'; if you want quick, dirty laughs starring a little imp, try 'Azazel.' Personally, I keep both on my reread list for different moods.
Whenever I flip through shonen stacks I keep coming back to one that literally drops a tiny demon into the middle of the fight: 'Beelzebub'. The setup is delightfully ridiculous — a hardcore delinquent named Tatsumi Oga ends up bonded to a baby demon called Beelzebub IV. From chapter one that little devil is treated like a living plot device: cute, destructive, and central to the chaos that follows.
The nuance I love is how the manga treats the baby not just as a gag prop but as a key to the worldbuilding. You get slapstick, fights, and surprisingly heartfelt moments about responsibility and odd parenthood. The art leans wild and expressive, matching the absurd premise, and the anime adaptation captures the frantic energy well. If you mean a literal little devil introduced as a protagonist (or co‑protagonist), 'Beelzebub' is the clearest pick — it’s messy, loud, and oddly affectionate, and I still grin thinking about some of the ridiculous scenes.
There’s a quieter, sweeter take on the idea in 'The Demon Girl Next Door' (Japanese title 'Machikado Mazoku'), and I often recommend it to friends looking for a gentle inversion of the typical demon-protagonist trope. The story introduces Yuko Yoshida — a meek high school girl who discovers she’s descended from a dark clan and gets nicknamed a ‘demon girl.’ She’s tiny in terms of initial power and confidence, so the phrase ‘little devil’ fits her character arc perfectly: timid, awkward, but with a lot of heart.
The manga spends more time on character relationships and low-stakes, slice-of-life comedy than on grand demonic wars. Yuko’s attempts to fulfill her supposed destiny are repeatedly interrupted by normal teenage concerns, school clubs, and her growing friendship with a magical girl she’s supposed to rival. That contrast — destiny vs. everyday life — is what makes it feel fresh. Reading it felt like watching a cozy, warm comedy where the supernatural elements serve character development rather than just spectacle. If you want a story that’s about small, personal growth while still featuring demons and light conflict, 'The Demon Girl Next Door' is a lovely example; it made me smile on commute rides more than once.