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anawkwardgalnamedtarazan · 1 year

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Belial: Demon Prince of Wrath 🐮🌋😡

(EDIT: Decided to swap genders...).

(Hey, guys. So, after some thinking for the last few months, I decided to replace Phisto with this guy as the 7th Sindicate member. But don't worry, I'll think of something for Phisto yet!!)

(And he's now the one who has a brotherly relationship with Louie too.)

Anywhoooo...

Belial was once an Angel named Heraldine (get it? 😅👼) who studied in the Guardian Track of the Angel Academy. Despite her dreams to be a warrior, she didn't exactly have the strength or bravery to be one. She often got scared by larger astral beasts, and lost nearly every sparring match she's been in. And poor Heraldine was mercilessly teased by his stronger peers as a result. This led to moments of lashing out from sheer frustration, resulting in hot water with Heaven's higher-ups. Lucifer, relating to Heraldine's desire to belong, took her under his wing and taught her everything he knew about magic (such as turning emotions into weapons). They soon grew a deep brother-sister bond with one another, a bond that extended to other outcasts like them to fight against Heaven's established order. After the Fall, Heraldine (then named Belial) was filled with all kinds of feelings she never knew before: hatred, rage, and vengeance against anyone that dared to hurt her or her new friends. And those feelings came out as pure destruction left in his wake. The Devil, so proud of his apprentice, had anointed her as captain of Hell's military and chief enforcer to bring down any "sinful" souls. She was also in responsible for choosing which punishment(s) a sinner would receive. From that moment o , she was renowned as the Devil's most powerful ally and a force of unbridled wrath. Everyone knew never to mess with her when he was angry, mortal or immortal. Belial had finally made a name for herself, and nothing could stop her.... almost. But that's another story. 😎

💗💗Goodnight, everyone!!!!💗💗

PS., got some design ideas from Globgor from SVTFOE....

Thanks Daron Nefcy for that!!

And got some ideas for her origin from @weirdgirl92 !!

Thank u 2!!

💜👍💜👍😎

#the cuphead show #aspiring artist #cuphead fanart #cuphead oc #artists on tumblr #belial #lial #sindicate #hell

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sadcatjae · 1 year

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The Demon & The Priest - Part 3 - Rest

Other parts can be found in the masterlist

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AHHHHH I'm sorry it took so long!! But here's part 3 ;A;

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CW: Explicit language, explicit self-harm, mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, mentions of torture, mentions of non-con.

When he comes to, he finds himself restrained in a pair of strong arms. His muscles twitch and ache, and there’s a dampness on his cheeks that he doesn’t quite understand. A pathetic noise, something like a whimper, fills his ears, and it takes him a moment to realise that he’s the one making it.

The next thing he’s aware of is another voice, this one comforting and soft, murmuring meaningless words into his ear. “--you are safe. Hush now, Lial. It is over with. Calm yourself. You are safe.”

The demon shudders as the last of his fit leaves him, and his abused muscles finally relax. He goes limp in Julian’s arms, eyes fluttering close in sheer exhaustion.

A warm palm rests upon his forehead, and the heat sinks deep into his flesh.

“...I assume it didn’t work,” Lial croaks, twitching with the aftershocks.

“You assume correctly.”

The warmth disappears and he opens his eyes in quiet dismay. Above, Julian gazes down at him through hooded eyes, expression stony.

“That was beyond foolish, demon.”

“I’m an opportunist,” Lial says wryly, though his quip strikes like a brittle leaf.

With great effort, the exhausted demon drags himself upright. The priest slides out from behind, allowing him to rest against the bed.

“What now, priest? Your magic evidently has no effect and truly, that was my last gasp. If your light should fail me, then I–” Lial swallows the rest of his words, dread blooming in his gut like poison. His weary eyes flutter shut once more as he rides the cresting waves of pain - both corporeal and soul-deep.

“You will cease your pathetic self-pity,” Julian snaps, straightening up and patting dust from his pristine robes. He shoots the demon a razor-sharp glare, as though the latter had uttered the worst of blasphemies. “We have yet to exhaust all possibilities. This is but a minor failure - and I assure you, there will be many considering the nature of your affliction. You have come to me for salvation and I shall seek a method to do so. Grieve not what has yet to pass, for the fight is yet to begin.”

But Lial is exhausted. He’s exhausted and despairing and in the kind of pain that pretty words can’t soothe. For this infernal is facing the prospect of his mortality - something that had always been a shallow threat or an idle romantic thought. Ashaxi has not shied from promising his favourite plaything a true death, one of the body and soul. The kind that can keep an infernal in the ground. And Lial had thought of accepting such an offer more than once - while in the deepest throes of torture that seemed to have no end.

This time, however, his death looms. It’s not a mere threat or a thought, but an inevitability that shrouds his periphery like an oncoming storm. And as his mind goes, from sleep, from fear, and as the curse breaks down his flesh, death draws ever closer.

How long does he have? A week? A month?

This is Ashaxi’s favourite kind of torment. Slow and unknowable.

Lial clasps his hands together. His claws dig into his knuckles and thin rivulets of black stain his forearms. “Ten months, eleven months, almost a year,” he says in a monotone. “An entire year since I've been allowed to rest.” He glances at the impassive priest. There’s vulnerability in that raw look, like he’s been stripped down to the nerve. “You say that the fight is yet to begin, but my fight is near its end.”

“You cannot know the end. Not unless you seek it.” Julian huffs sharply through his nose, producing a handkerchief and flapping at those digging claws. “You have allowed me only one night of effort before accepting defeat. If you are to die, then die fighting. Claw not at yourself, but at the one who would inflict this suffering upon you.” He growls the last, an unfathomable anger building within like trapped lava. The damned infernal. Darkness take Ashaxi and his unholy ilk!

Julian grabs Lial’s arm and yanks him onto the bed. Face to face they are once again, and he takes those ink-streaked arms into his hands - not to embark on yet another foolish quest, but to clean the demon’s limbs of his blood.

With uncharacteristic softness, he wipes at Lial’s skin and his wounds, and the white handkerchief becomes soaked in black. There’s a delicate care in the priest’s ministrations, a kind of care that is so foreign to Lial. Every gentle touch has him internally quaking, and instinct tells him to pull away, stop this strange sensation - but Lial has no strength. So he sits quietly. Obediently. And watches in silence.

At one point, the demon whispers, “I’m tired.”

And the priest growls, “I know.”

“I’m going to die,” Lial exhales.

“You will not.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“I will not allow it.”

“Stubborn bastard.”

“Which is the kind of bastard you need.”

To which, Lial has no response.

Julian dabs the last of the blood from the already closed wounds on Lial’s knuckles. It’s fascinating - and enviable - at how quickly infernal heal. Then again, they feel pain the same as humans, and their physical invulnerability leads to careless disregard for their mental and emotional vulnerabilities. Mad and broken infernals are the leading cause of their dissent and antagonism as a race. Because of this, even one as obstinate as Julian is able to find a sliver of sympathy for the little devils.

“Refrain from mutilating yourself further, demon. I have but one other handkerchief I can soil.”

Lial sways, eyes grown heavy. “I have to stay awake,” he mutters. “I don’t want to…hurt anymore.” He slips his claws over his arms again to pierce – but Julian grabs his hands to keep them confined.

“I shall keep you awake,” the priest says, grimly. “Lower your claws. Save them for Ashaxi.”

The demon smiles weakly and a fang peeks out the corner of his mouth. “What chance do I have against a power to rival an Elder of the Light?” Lial says, echoing the priest’s words.

“A very good chance, if said Elder of the Light stands with you.”

Lial knows that what the priest said was significant, but he’s too hazy to fully grasp Julian’s meaning. His eyes slide close. The brume of sleep pads his mind; scours the edges of reality down to a blunt. He feels himself go slack and fall sideways–

And a hard shake jolts him awake.

“Keep your eyes open, Lial,” Julian says, sharply. “It is terrible etiquette to fall asleep during a conversation.”

“You and your fucking etiquette,” Lial grouses, but he opens his eyes all the same.

Julian’s tense expression relaxes a tad. He keeps a firm grip on the demon’s arms, keeping him upright. “Tell me more about your Lord. What transpired between you?”

“I told you–”

“Yes, and I am not a fool. Your coveting Ashaxi’s throne is a clear fabrication and I do not tolerate dishonesty well.”

The demon exhales tremulously. His hand wanders to his lower belly, where ghostly sensations tug at him from deep within. Cold sweat beads his wrinkled brow.

“Lial?” A warm palm cups his cheek. “Lial, you mustn’t sleep.”

“No, I’m not. I–” The demon absently leans into the heat, a glimmer of red peeking through the thick fans of white lashes. “Ashaxi favoured me. Truly.”

Julian’s intense gaze pours over the demon’s drawn features. He presses his lips into a tight line and sweeps his thumb across Lial’s cheek. Cold. Much too cold. “Am I correct in assuming that his favour is an undesirable notion?”

“I wet his appetite in a way none else could.” Clawed fingers trail across his belly. There’s his voice murmuring in his ear, darkly lascivious and vile.

A light tremble seizes the demon’s body, and with it a growing chill. It’s as if Ashaxi is here now: frigid breath puffed against his nape; elongated claws carving signs across his spine; his towering, muscular form crushing against his own, so much so that he can only release airless screams; and his voice, his voice–

Julian promptly rises from the chair and sits behind the shivering demon, pulling him into his arms. His outer robe is shed to place over Lial, trapping what little heat he’s able to generate. “Your temperature is dropping - rapidly,” Julian informs him, curtly. “Has this happened before?”

Weakened greatly - and too cold to object - Lial allows the priest this intimacy. The chill had been there for a while - ever since his arrival - but now it’s taken shape, a brittle case of ice that refuses to melt. Even if he leans into Julian’s heat, he only feels a moment of relief before the chill sharpens.

“Not like this,” he says, breath hitching. “This is…this is different.”

“Perhaps your body is repelling the light. It was a very invasive procedure. Or it could be…” Julian trails off and wraps his hands around the demon’s. Lial feels like ice - colder than ice, in fact. If he were human, he would be near death.

“...Or it could be the curse,” Lial mutters. "The next stage."

“Indeed.”

“M-Maybe it’ll let me sleep.”

“Do you wish to try?”

“I think it’s inevitable, d-despite my wishes.” Lial’s fangs clack together as they chatter.

Julian tightens his embrace, securing the demon within. Despite the heat inside their cocoon rising, it does nothing to affect Lial’s plummeting temperature.

Infernal are born from the cold fires of the underworld, so they are by nature cold creatures. However, they still have a limit that when breached can cause severe harm. Harm that they are able to heal, yes, but a needless suffering nonetheless.

Lial’s eyes slide close and small noises of suffering fall free from his pale lips. The sheen of sweat upon his skin crystallises and glints like scattered diamantes. Julian knows - with a sinking heart - that Lial might be right after all. That he is not long for this world.

“Rest, then,” Julian says quietly, hugging the long-suffering figure close to his chest. He holds Lial like he does the dying - an intimate embrace to ease fear and suffering; and the last human touch before they return to the light. “Rest easy, my friend. I shall watch over you.”

Lial must have trust in his words, for he goes limp in the priest's embrace. And though shivers continue to wrack his body, he is thankfully unaware of this discomfort. Sleep, finally, steals the demon’s senses, and for the first time in a year, Lial rests.

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @pattonvirglsanders @wolfeyedwitch @whumpsday @whump-blog @whumpnonny @extrabitterbrain

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Part 4

Masterlist

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#whump #whump writing #villain whump #hero x villain #villain whumpee #supervillain whumper #hero caretaker #demon whumpee #demon whump #julian tries to be all stoic and gruff but he's panicking the entire time #actually a big softie #lial sadge julian madge

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