The ability to sing is something that Belial could never have. He couldn't make a single sound even if he tried, and Jjyu would never be caught dead singing.
Whether in the shower or alone, you feel so at peace with yourself that you let out your 'true' voice. A voice that you only try to keep to yourself as you are way too shy to let anyone else hear. Stuck in your own little world, Your eyes closed, imagining the scenarios you play repeatedly to the tune you've long since memorized.
Little did you know you had one audience member? Just far enough away for you to never notice his back pressed against the wall, just himself, without his usual familiar mouthpiece. Clutching his beating heart, he tries to fight the blush on his face. Your voice was... Beautiful, I mean, he already knew that, remembering the way you moan and whimper underneath him. It was only natural. Your singing voice would be just as beautiful, if not enchanting. He thought he couldn't fall for you any harder now, falling head over heels like a high school boy. Finally making himself known to you, You stop, your eyes wide, your face as red as he is. He can't help. His gentle smile approaches his lips as you greet him, pretending nothing is happening.
As much as he adores Jjyu, he cherishes moments like these when he's alone and can be his true self and 'speak' as himself without anyone else putting words into his mouth.
He couldn't help but rest his forehead gently against yours. His fingers opened your palm using magic to draw red letters. 'Your voice is nice. :)'
Poor Belial forgeting that humans feel a greater level of embarrassment than devils. His smile fades into worry as he sees your eyes widen, and a look of horror flashes on your face. His magic wipes away as you stuff your face into your hands. Oh dear, He didn't mean to upset you. He leans down, His eyes trying to meet yours.
Belial swears on his life he'll never tell anybody, It feels good that you're singing voice would be a secret to only him.
Would it be too much to ask you to sing for him again? He knows that you don't like to sing in front of people. But he truly loves how you sound and tells you a million times every day if he could.
He's never wished for anything more than to sing with you. He can only hum, even in small amounts, since it hurts his throat. That doesn't stop him. He wants to memorize the songs you sing. He wants to hum while you sing the tune. He wants to harmonize with you. Even if it gets him a sore throat, even if he's coughing, he will train his throat so he can at least hum with you. Because he'll do anything to do something he's dreamed about with the person he loves.
It's the morning after. You hear Belial in the kitchen, cooking breakfast--it's going well, judging by the pleasant sounds of sizzling. Either way, after a few minutes, Belial comes upstairs with breakfast in bed and a smile. It's a perfect capper to everything that's happened, you think. Smiling, you look down at the steaming plate of eggs and toast in his hand...
"I figured you needed some protein," Belial says, "besides what I already gave you. Eat up!"
“Come now, Singularity--I’m just making sure that you’re fully coated~”
Ruby red irises glinted mischievously, a pink tongue darted over smirking lips, long, slick fingers tightened their hold.
Belial was certainly enjoying his day out on the beaches of Auguste.
While other tourists were delighting themselves to seafood buffet feasts and basking in the picturesque scenery of pristine white sand and crystal blue water, he was finding much pleasure in some afternoon fishing from the comforts of a seaside bungalow.
And what a splendid catch that was now in his possession!
Squirming and writhing, swimsuit in a tattered disarray, skin sleek from a haphazard smear of suntan oil, you were left and reduced to a helpless sprawl upon the wooden deck of your bungalow suite. The platform--with the purpose of allowing easy access in and out of the ocean for a swim--now served to be an open showcase of Belial pummeling his cock into your core from behind for next door guests and the like.
His palms were still slippery with the pour of your suntan oil bottle from earlier, his fingers groping your breasts, toying with your nipples, with one even plunging into your ass in tandem with the vigorous pace of his thrusts.
Your nails clawing at the wooden floor in pleasure, the gorgeously obscene view of your backside as he watched his thick cock push into your drooling core, all while you looked back at him with such a flustered, pleading expression--his hunger, his thirst for more could not be any more aroused.
Calling out your name, he relinquished his hold on your breast to instead seize your chin as he bent further down, closing any distance between your face and his.
Before he went forward to claim your lips for a kiss, he gazed straight into your eyes as he grinned wickedly, his voice dropping to a low purr as he spoke,
“After all, if the sun gets to kiss your skin today, isn’t it only fair that I get to kiss you all I want~? ♡“
May I ask for some Belial with his and his s/o's daugther. Like... What if she is such a friendly and kind kid who likes to bring smiles to others. Especially to her dad TvT. ❤️
A/n: Reader is gender neutral btw!!! Whether you prefer to adopt or conceive, it’s all left in the air so don’t worry!!!
Belial’s kid was expected to be a demon. Or at least cause a BIT of trouble. Imagine to their surprise when she’s like the cutest little angel ever.
Belial would’ve made fun of himself for that in the past, but now that he has his little girl in his arms he welcomes how adorable she is. Especially since you and her give him love that he never had the chance of experiencing before. Funny, you two started off as enemies... and now you’re raising a daughter together.
He has tons of fun with her. She’s his little princess and HELL YEAH he’s going to spoil her. Tailors all sorts of outfits for her (they’re very fashionable, what did you expect from a “fashion designer”) and buys her lots of gifts.
He’s the worst cop ever. If his daughter ever asks for anything he just gives. Good cop/bad cop? Nonexistent. She wants ice cream at midnight? Sure, he’ll make a sundae for himself too. She wants another stuffed toy? He’ll buy her the store. She killed a man in cold blood? Wow, his daughter is so strong. The man doesn’t care at all. He’s just doing his thing.
He strives on being “the cool parent”. He sometimes teases you by saying your daughter thinks he’s the cooler parent. It probably is true (because, truly, who is cooler than the demon of cunning?)
Is a proud papa who will show off everything his daughter has ever given to him. Pretty much everyone in the crew has seen him talk about how his daughter is the bestest thing ever because she drew a scribbly circle.
Despite his openness about his child, he does like to keep many things to himself, like the cute little teddy bear she got him or a flower pin he keeps on him at all times (it’s very well hidden, so not many get to see it.)
So happy to see some headcanons with plus size SOs. Would love to see the same but for Belial~
A/n: I’m so glad you all like these????? I will always do more things like this since ya’ll deserve love too!!!
Belial is not shy to admit he really loves your body. To him, size doesn’t matter and he likes to just revel in your skin.
He will definitely cuddle you and snuggle you, he especially loves pulling sneak attacks on you and hugging you when you least expect it.
He likes blowing raspberries in your tummy. He is that guy. He likes seeing how you squirm a bit before he kisses you and laughs that you’re too adorable
Belial is a self-proclaimed fashion designer and can help tailor and make outfits for you if you wish. Ask and ye shall receive. Of course he’ll make a matching version of it for himself because ya’ll gotta be the extra couple.
Anyone makes fun of you and he smiles before he says he’ll kill them. You gotta hold him back before he literally murders someone in broad daylight (which he has done before)
He loves praising your body, especially when you two get intimate. He wants you to feel good about what he’s doing and about yourself. Confidence is very hot! And if you don’t feel confident then he’ll be glaaaaad to show you just what’s so great about you (wink wonk)
Of course, he’s not Belial without making some inappropriate quip in public about just how great you are. Sandalphon has told him to please shut the hell up before he smashes the coffee pot on him.
Belial + Lucilius Getting a Flower Crown from their S/O
A/n: I like nasty men being softies- you can’t deny me this chance OKAY??? @alouvr here’s your man blease accept this tribute
Belial:
It’s summer and all Belial wants to do is tease you. You two decide to sit outside and rest under a tree.
Belial likes these moments with you, where you both are alone and relaxing with each other. It makes him happy to have you. He closes his eyes and thinks on what he loves most about you when he feels you touch his hair.
“Oi, oi, you that eager to mess me up, babe?” He smirks, but he sees you aren’t fumbling like usual. You’re just smiling, that smile that sends his heart racing.
It’s sweet, gentle, and you’re looking at him as if he’s the most wonderful thing in the universe.
He can’t help but smile back and blush.
He places his hands on your cheeks and for a while, both of you are just staring at each other, smiling stupidly and lost in your own little world.
“Babe...” He mutters, “Get over here.” He tugs you on top of him and holds you against his chest. He wraps his hands around you in a constricting hug, and again, you two go silent.
He remembers you put something in his hair and proceeds to trace a hand to it. It’s something delicate, something that’d break if he applied anymore pressure.
He raises an eyebrow at you and you snort at his confused expression.
“It’s a flower crown, you idiot.”
“I knew that.”
He didn’t, but he’s happy. Life is nice and carefree. He exhales and pulls you closer again, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I wonder what I did before to make you want to be gentle with me. The rough things are nice but...I’m kinda liking the gentle stuff.”
“I love you, Belial.”
“Hey, that’s my line. I’ll pay you back later for this.”
“...and....yeah, I love you too, (Y/n).”
Lucilius
He hates the sun, he hates the heat, he hates everything.
So, it comes to no shock when your request to go outside and have a nice tea break gets rejected.
That’s your Faasan!!!
Although dejected, you decided you wanted to surprise your feral boyfriend by making him a nice flower crown. Couples always did that, so you wanted to try it too.
Also because you wanted to know if he’d get flustered or not because that was always a riot.
He has been on edge lately, hiding away in his cramped, dark lab and angrily cursing at his work. A cute little gift might cheer him up.
After sitting alone outside for a few hours, you ended up making a few flower crowns, with the help of Halluel and Malluel. You hope that if you give one to Lucilius he’ll be more relaxed.
So you go back inside and see your mad scientist is still pouring away at his notes, looking rather stressed and angered. It really makes you sad when he’s so upset.
You make your presence known so he isn't shocked and throws a scalpel at you (again).
“What? What do you want?” He asks quickly, gripping the rather sharp looking scalpel.
“I made you something.”
“Not now. I’m busy. J-just go, I’ll hear you in a little bit.” He shoos you away, a grimace on his face. He really would love to hang out with you more, truly, but the council has been on his back and he just wants to finish his work.
You’re used to this response, but also understand that it’s not really his fault, so you wish him good luck and leave the flower crown on the table.
Lucilius is rummaging through his notes and testing many things, when he notices the flowers where his quill was near. He definitely didn’t put that there. You most likely did, but he was confused as to when.
Even more confusing was the fact the flowers were chained together in a large circle. Was it a bracelet? Or a necklace? He’s never seen something like this, so he looks into it. A bit too heavily, might I add.
He finds that what he’s holding in his hands is not a necklace or bracelet, but in fact a flower crown.
“It’s supposed to symbolize...love and affection? Couples do this for one another?”
Please give him a moment, this man has never been in a relationship and has never read romance before.
A lot of thoughts are running through his mind as he stares at the flower crown in his hand, and the books on his desk. He hasn’t sat with you in a while. He hasn’t eaten dinner with you nor as he made time to just be with you.
“Perhaps...I can extend a few moments to relaxing.”
He quietly approaches you, who’s too distracted to notice him.
“I received your message.” He says out of nowhere.
“Gods, you gave me a heart attack!”
He doesn’t respond, just wraps his arms around you and holds you against his chest so you can’t see him blushing
You two kinda slowly waltz, with him stroking your hair and you hearing his fast heartbeat that is actually quite soothing.
All because of a few flowers, he muses in his head.
hhhhhhh nsfw with belial??? (btw good luck on this blog!!!!!)
Ulterior Motives - Part One | Part Two
There’s a tense sense of caution among the crew tonight.
By all means, this is out of the ordinary. Acquiring new recruits is usually a cause for celebration—and sure, that’s what it may look like on the surface: there’s mead in your glass and the flicker of the lantern in front of you graces a homely half-light on the messy circle of people gathered around it. As is usually customary, everyone has split off into smaller groups, and though you usually like to dot around them over the course of the night, you can’t find the heart to ditch the one you’re in right now.
Nobody here is stranger to making unlikely allies out of former enemies, but Belial sticks out like a sore thumb among the close-knit assembly of the Grandcypher crew nevertheless. Even Hallassena looks a little put-off as she chews on her cutlet, eyeing him with a distinct sense of distrust that has you feeling a little bad for him.
Sure, he’s crass, slimy, overly antagonistic, and you certainly can’t blame Katalina for ushering all the kids to the other side of the deck when he puts his foot in his mouth with some mention of sodomy, but it still seems like a shame to leave him to his own devices during (what should be) his welcome party. You’ve been trying not to make it obvious, but you can tell Belial knows exactly what’s going on. He has to be aware that everyone is avoiding him.
“You must really like this spot,” he says, from his seat next to yours, when the two of you are alone (not for the first time that evening). “Everyone else is jumping from group to group, and yet for some reason, you haven’t left my side all night.” The way he holds his glass of wine is deceptively conservative. You know that it functions as more of a weaponised prop to him than anything else—something to flash his enigmatic grin over while he waits for your response.
“Got bored of me, have you?” you ask, rocking back and forth on the barrel you’re sat on. “Don’t worry, I’ll go as soon as we find someone else willing to put up with you.”
There’s something about the way he looks at you that always makes you feel like you’re walking right into a trap, and the grin that takes over his face is no exception.
“Well, in that case…” he begins, and your gut is screaming: danger, danger, danger, “maybe I should take care to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
The rocking stops. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing at all,” he says, but even at best, it sounds like foreshadowing. Belial looks almost prideful as he appraises everyone’s uncomfortable side-ways glances in his direction, and you’re beginning to think he’s not feeling as sorry for himself as you might suspect. “Say, how many inappropriate jokes do you think Will can stomach? It seems like he wants to come check with us.”
With a sudden realisation, you sit up straight. “You’re doing this on purpose,” you proclaim, doing your best to hold, what you hope, is an intimidating expression.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
With a frustrated huff, you look away from him. “God, I should have known you were just being an ass the whole night.” You make a dramatic display of standing up and dusting yourself off but you’re not nearly as annoyed at him for tethering you to his side all night as you should be, which by itself is enough to piss you off.
He doesn’t look urgent as he reaches his hand out for yours, but you think he might care about you leaving more than you assumed, judging from the thought he puts into seductively rubbing his thumb across your skin.
“Will you forgive me if I tell you that I wanted to have you to myself tonight?” All traces of subtlety smoulder in his suggestive smile. Even his tone, usually seeping with arrogance, takes on a honeyed loll—hand-crafted just to ease you into reading between the lines.
“I won’t sleep with you Belial,” is what you tell him. You don’t expect that to put him off, and you’re right.
“Why is that?” His grin is conspiratorial: it stirs in your belly, sticks needles up your spine. It’s remarkable how after all this time nothing has curbed the inherent sliminess of his demeanour. You doubt anything ever will.
“Would you sleep with someone you don’t trust?”
You swear his grin gets wider.
“Depends on the person.” It’s too easy to lose yourself in the way his hand trails further upwards. He’s running slow circles on the inside of your elbow, and you despise the disproportionate blaze of frustration when he stops, for barely a moment.
You know he’s looking for your reaction. That the way he looks you up and down (even tilts his barrel towards you to get a better look, the bastard) is no more than him watching for the first sign of breakage. Stubbornly, you harden your features to rob him of the satisfaction, but the feeling of being trapped returns threefold when he looks away from you, like he’s found what he was looking for, and you realise with a lurch to your throat you’ve just given yourself away.
“Why the long face?” he asks. You can tell just from his tone that he sees right through you. “I’ve only seen you this serious in front of your enemies.”
“I suppose you would know; you used to be one of them.”
You’re surprised when his ever-present grin wipes into a serious grimace, and you wonder, not without a little bit of satisfaction, that maybe you’ve struck a nerve.
“Is the idea of sex with me really so unappealing?” he asks, as his hand drops to his side.
The most credible refusal would be to immediately laugh in his face, but by the time you’ve finished being surprised at the sincerity of his bitterness, you don’t have the heart for it. You doubt little more than his pride is on the line, but it’s clear that he does, to some degree, care about this. Maybe more than he might let on, given the impatient way he glances you over as he waits for your response.
“Not quite,” is what you tell him. “If that was all it was, I’d gladly ditch these pleasantries and hole up in a closet with you for half an hour.”
Belial surprised at your boldness, but pleasantly so, judging from the way he takes hold of your hand again and coaxes you to stand closer. “Then what’s the problem?”
You give him an exasperated look.
It’s hardly been a week since he joined the Grandcypher, and in-between his constant attempts to turn the dynamic of your crew into constant sparks of drama, the flirty gestures he sends your way when Sandalphon is looking, and his general, slimy approach to getting under people’s skin, you know him well enough to assume he’s got ulterior motives.
“The problem, Belial, is that I’m sure this is just another one of your games. As soon as I agree, you’re going to try to get something more out of this. To see how far you can push my buttons or get me to admit things. That’s not something I want to play tonight.”
The way Belial brings your hand to rest inches before his lip makes your legs press together in anticipation. He notices, you know he does, but he doesn’t comment. Not even when he kisses your wrist and you physically feel the heat rush to your ears.
“How about if I promise no games?” is what he says. Neutral expression. No hint of knowing teasing in his voice. “Just simple skin-on-skin. One night. If you don’t like it, I’ll never speak of it again.”
And you don’t know what it is that makes you agree, but you suspect it comes part in part with the coiling in your stomach. The hungry way he looks up at you, standing over him. Because despite whatever smooth lies and deflections he spins into your ears, despite being completely sure there’s a part of this bargain you’re missing out on, you can’t help but believe that maybe, somehow, it’ll be fun.
Simple skin-on-skin, you think, and scoff. Nothing with Belial is ever simple.
