#𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 — 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄

[arcanepactguile]

💋

💋!

The flickering light from the fireplace was throwing shadows over the two bodies presently entangled on the couch. The television was turned on, but it was in the next room, so the count down to the new year was nearly missed. Extermination Day was on the verge of coming down hard on everybody, which the Radio Demon had saw as a prime opportunity to go running back to where he had spent his life alone, isolated... not because he was running scared with his tail between his legs.

Stretched out over Angel Dust's longer body, Alastor shifted to inch higher up, pushing his hands and elbows into the couch seat in preference to putting his weight straight into the addict's organs. The migration north was short; propped up over his lover's chest, his face blank, Alastor leaned in to press a firm kiss to Angel's closed lips, tasting the bubbly they’d been sharing moments ago.

"Happy New Year."

The buck's tail wagging, giving away his scheme, the solemn Radio Demon dragged his tongue along the underside of the spider's jaw, lapping at his pulse points.

“Sooo…. Do you feel like fooling around? I think the others are still out partying.”

[arcanepactguile]

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 / ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ⸻ ｢ 🕯️ ｣

@justiceiswrath ꜱᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ:

Something for start of sinday.

Satan has attached a collar to him. A bright ruby collar with a bell on it.

"I do hope you are prepare today." He has trim down his claws and smooth them out and he licked his maw already. <3

Playing with the bell, trying to look down at it but failing, he can still tell what sort it is. The weight, the sound, and the shape.

Staring back up at his Master, Alastor's grin had preceded the moment the Sin had finished bending down to put it on.

"A cow bell? Why, you really do know me inside and out, don't you??

I've been ready, as a matter of fact. I was about to go looking for you."

Formerly lounging on the nest of pillows he'd stolen found? for his own stall in the barn, the buck had been growing desperate for relief. The engorged udders spilling out between his tensed thighs were fairly obvious in need of some action.

Canting his head, self-conscious, the Radio Demon added under his breath — "𝑀𝑜𝑜."

[arcanepactguile]

Finding the gift left out for him under the lobby's Sinsmas tree, out in full view let it be known, Alastor had spirited away the unknown package away from prying eyes into his rooms. 

There, at his own fireside, did he have the privacy to open it. The envelope attached to the gift had Angel's handwriting on it — this wasn't the secret that he wanted to hide. It was the card’s message, and whatever was under the giftwrap. 

It was heavy. There weren't any clues as to it's identity. Yet upon opening it, it quickly became clear just what it was, especially coming from him: a black and red leather knotted flogger. Rising from his seat to sidle over to the fireplace next to his winged armchair, Alastor casually threw in the giftwrap to burn, the green flames taking a moment to lick the plastic-coated paper before the flames took and the proof of the secret gift were eventually smoldering. 

Twirling the flogger in the other hand, re-reading the greeting card again, Alastor's eye kept being drawn back to the last part of the scandalous message — “I’ll see you either in my room or yours tonight, I’m sure.”

It wasn't the usual kind of festive, season's pleasantries that people got for Christmas… That didn't mean it was going to be UNpleasant. Depending on whom the BDSM implement was used on. The implications in his clandestine lover’s card were to realised tonight, for sure, that much was certain. 

Tossing the card into the fire to join the burning embers once he had read it thoroughly again for the dozenth time: raking his fingers through his hair as he studied the toy in silence, the Radio Demon's roguish smile was catching up to the flash of emotion lighting up his formerly impassive expression.

They were definitely going to have some fun tonight.

[arcanepactguile]

"Hey, Smiles? Ya busy?" Some shit went down with his gramps that he needed to get away for a moment. And his feet just led him here in hopes he'd find the Radio Demon, which he did. "He asked to go to one of the backrooms with him and once they had, the spider "If ya ain't here wit' anyone else, could we..." His voice trailed off. He reached out to try and gently take his hand as his eyes drifted downwards. "I just don't wanna be alone." He wasn't thinking about sex or getting drunk but he was too nervous to admit he just wanted to be held. /Doesn't have to become a thread but thought I'd send something cute. Cute would be really nice, so hope this is ok~

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 / ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ⸻ ｢ 🕯️ ｣

The frantic knocking at the door had stirred the Radio Demon out of a dreadfully boring reverie spent in his study, aimlessly poring over some books, so anything that would take him away from the pointless endeavour was welcomed eagerly.

"Angel...!"

Opening the door a crack to find the troubled youth stand there wasn't something he had been thinking about. The foot soldier was liable to turn up at any hour, just in a better mood than the one he was wearing now.

The Overlord's eyes flicking to do a quick survey of the space behind the other man — upon seeing no evidence of intrusive neighbours or member of Angel's dangerous family, Alastor had hastily pulled Angel Dust inside his private home. He knew Angel's privacy was circumspect, which was fine by Alastor; any reason to shield the spider demon at his place was a good one.

The door locked again behind them, he had promptly yanked his friend into a faithful hug; wrapping his arms around Angel's torso and crushing his arms to his sides, single-minded to have Angel understand he was accepted here. The buck wearing a silk loungewear robe for the day, feeling lazy and uninspired to choose something else, the heat of the arachnid's body was quickly leeched through the flimsy material. Applying another tighter squeeze, Alastor had to deal with their height difference.

Breathing out into the demon's thick chest fur, compromised by the awkward position, Alastor's tone was warm, not accusatory.

"Angel, you don't need to tell me everything. Not one thing.

I know. You wanted to escape."

[arcanepactguile]

“ It’s sinsmas, baby, an’ I’m celebratin’ the sin ‘f lust! An’ lil’ ole me can’t unwrap myself. I need a big,” eyes flicker downwards then back up, “stron’ buck ta get these ribbons off me. Ya ‘no where I can find one, Smiles? Fer a lil’ incentive, there ain’t nothin’ underneath.” /just an ask cause Angel thinks he’s clever. Thought I’d send something because Xmas ends on my end~ just a fun ask.

UNPROMPTED

The silly arachnid must have uncovered the last of the eggnog… it certainly explained his festive attitude. Either that, or the pure liquor itself that was used for the drink.

Unfazed by his lover’s rambunctious behaviour, Alastor had a premeditated response planned for this kind of dilemma.

“You’ve come to the right person, my dear. Don't settle for an amateur,” the Radio Demon inferred with some derision — ending the mock chastisement by bringing a hand up to tug at the bow on Angel's chest. “Why spoil the surprise? Aren't gifts meant to be surprises? What's my motivation to finish…?”

Behind Angel Dust, a set of black tentacles were weaving through the air: the tendrils coiling around the spider demon's ankles, Alastor's smile was widening.

“Do you mind if I employ some extra help? “

[arcanepactguile]

Satan is softly caressing his cheek and running his other hand down his body. Going over his chest and his stomach. He's heating up his hands so they feel amazing against his skin. But he's staring down deeply into his beloved eyes. He just wants to touch him. He wants him to feel good. He's running his other hand down his neck and shoulders. He's taking any excuse he can to touch him. Even running his hand over his thighs and his legs. Softly up his back.  (Replies will come tomorrow but, urge to send you something)

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 / ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴏᴘᴇɴ⸻ ｢ 🕯️ ｣

Grinning, Satan's doe is utterly perplexed as to why his Master is all of a sudden so anxious to touch him: hands exploring his body like it's their first time. He doesn't want it to stop, the pleasant sensation is sinking deeper into his body, easing tension.

Tilting his head back to look up, returning the heavy look with an inquisitive one, Alastor's brought both hands up to squeeze the dragon's warmed wrist long enough so he can wait for the time when the other hand has slid down his stomach so he can roll his hips into the questing palm.

"Have you lost something?"

[arcanepactguile]

💋- @baphomet-slumber-queen

💋!

It was hard to tell who led the sleeping arrangements; the sheep, or the deer.

The Sin of Sloth had very graciously taken the Radio Demon in under her wing on Extermination Day, in an effort to thwart capture or death during the purge that had arrived on time like Charlie had.. well, implied, the implications of all rules and etiquette thrown out in the name of fun recreation gleaned as much by the little that the princess had divulged.

Alastor had been convinced he wasn't planning to stick around a repeat of last year's mess. It was convenient that Lady Belphegor had reached out to him again for support, so it was inevitable the frightened Overlord had accepted her proposal, opting to be sheltered by a much more powerful figure than he, than end up as a statistic and front page news.

Spending the better half of New Year's Day with the sheep gave him an ample shot at stoking the flames of their budding relationship, never mind avoiding assassination.

The Radio Demon was previously curled up in the Sin’s lap, on her bed. Definitely room enough for two, the buck had still moved closer to claim his territory; nuzzled into her stomach, the deer had one ear flipped up to press into her breast. He had been listening to her soothing heartbeat, but the chimes of a clock announcing midnight, his attention had converted to something different.

Unfolding, drowsy, Alastor had dragged himself up the towering Sin”s body by holding onto her shoulders, to plant a chaste kiss to her mouth fondly, his own lax features transforming into a playful smile. The sheep’s body was very warm beneath his body, his claws lightly winding around loose locks of her beautiful wool. Sleep was leaving him, the heat pooling in his body stirred by his Mistress's sympathetic compassion and reverence for him, an idol in her eyes.

“Happy New Year — do you have a resolution to share with me?"

[arcanepactguile]

// Ooh you like that POST GET THIS SOFT THEN.

Satan is interlocking fingers with Alastor. Taking his hand in his own and softly bringing his knuckles up to his face. He gives them the most gentle of kisses. He looks deeply into Alastor's eyes and caresses his cheek with his other hand as he begins to speak. "My precious doe. The true Ruby of my eye. You are worth more than 10,000 hoards I could ever make. I have been enchanted by your beauty and the things I have seen from you. I wish to hold you for a thousand sunsets." He softly that keeps caressing his cheek. 

"I am in love with you and I am not afraid to say it. I have never been good with my emotions but when I see you my heart skips a beat. That Old Flame I thought was once dead reignites when you smile. I have not felt such a carnal  passion for another in eons. You shall be my red star that never let go." 

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

Frozen in place, the deer demon couldn't even BLINK. Satan's blunt confession was something the buck hadn't been anticipating. Out of the blue. Unprovoked.

The cliched contexts were coming to mind; was either of them dying? Had Satan thought he was sharing an affair with someone else?

Whatever the reason, Alastor was susceptible to being buttered up. Touch-starved, it didn't help any that his Master's voice was so assertive.

Leaning into the caressing hand, eyes hooded, Alastor merely answered with a low rumble; nuzzling into the warmth, ears sagging.

“Have I done something wrong?’

[arcanepactguile]

💋 It's big deep smooch. A smooch with love and care <3

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒

Grinning into the kiss, Alastor balances himself carefully on the tips of his hooves, stretching up to return the smooch with equal zest. The difference in their heights — understanding that his Master changes his own height on a whim — was never an awkward thing, the Radio Demon’s energy making up for their inappropriate physical match to not see it as an obstacle.

Nipping at Satan's chin once he’d broken the deep kiss, Alastor had the audacity to lean into his Master's hard body, placing his hands on the Sin’s hips for leverage.

“What’s gotten into you, this fine morning? Interested in a new year spent with me?”

[arcanepactguile]

🧠 + You want to woship his cock. Do it. Put your face against it and beg. <3

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

"..."

"What... "

Confused, seeing how they had only just finished minutes ago, Alastor's hesitation narrowly led to abandoning the impulse.

Pulling himself over, slipping his hand around the base, Alastor dragged his tongue up the underbelly of his Master's cock — stopping at the tip to press his cheek into it.

"Please, Sire, I need your massive cock inside me again."

[arcanepactguile]

Well my little doe. I have already breed you once but, maybe this time I will devour your sweet hole first, then pump you full my seed again. I want to see that face you made again. <3

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒

Alastor's undoubtedly flustered by the praise, the threat. It's immeasurably gratifying to be spoken to like he's got one use, and that's to be reduced to desire. Above all else, being regarded as valuable has provided Alastor with an infinite source of self-worth.

The Radio Demon's projecting — he considers sex to be the ultimate form of desire, and desire's an end goal he feel he can never reach. Knowing he's left his partner wanting more can be a toxic coping mechanism; Alastor's eager to please no matter the costs.

"Well, what are you waiting for? I'm glad you've chosen me.

Now, get ON with it. Breed me so hard I'll forget what century I'm in."

[arcanepactguile]

🎁” + Gives a beauitful black and red collar with ruby gem stone hanging off it with the symbol of wrath on it.

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐒

"My Lord... I don't think I deserve this.

But, coming from you, I realise it must be true. I'll be honoured to wear this forever more."

[arcanepactguile]

[ @baphomet-slumber-queen ] A pink imp with a black candle on her head appears in Alastor's radio tower with a gift box. "Good day, Sinner! Lady Belphegor sends her season greetings and would like to offer you a gift. Merry Sinmas!"

She sets the box down before disappearing in a puff of pink and white smoke.

Attached to the top of the wrapped box, there was a small card addressed to him.

'Dear Alastor,

I hope this gift finds you well during this lovely holiday season. Your broadcasts are always a joy to listen to here in the Sloth Ring. To show my gratitude to your wonderful shows that often keep me company, I had a special gift made for you. I hope it serves you well.

Sweet dreams, and Merry Sinmas,

~Belphegor. Inside the box he would find a blanket made from wool and plush material that had small designs of deer on both sides.

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐌𝐀𝐒

It was by sheer luck that the Radio Demon had ended the day's radio program, when a voice behind had startled the demon. Pivoting in place to see whom it was, not strictly finding the presence of an intruder immediately an act of hostility, the appearance of a simple imp hadn't stirred anything but curiosity.

The little scamp had already begun explaining itself before Alastor could get a word in edgewise, and so he was content to pay attention, eyebrows raised at the mention of a superior title. ‘Lady’, and an entity by the name of Belphegor…

The puff of smoke the only proof that this wasn't something his mind had invented, either from lack of sleep or another symptom of balled up stress, Alastor didn't show any apprehension when he bent down to pick up the mysterious box for a closer look. It had a solid weight, and the size didn't really offer a single clue as to what it hid. Untying the ribbon and the gift wrapping with one hand, brows knitted, upon pulling out the gift not only did the Overlord's expression flip over to surprise, a smile had accompanied it.

Like a true gentleman, Alastor had chosen to read the greeting card AFTER opening the gift. He just had to know what it was.

Hanging the blanket over one arm whilst he re-reread the card, the Radio Demon's smile grew bigger, but his merry mood dipped a bit when he had reached the casual sign off promising sweet dreams.

You couldn't win them all. The gesture was a lovely thought, in the end. He couldn't fault the Lady of Sin for being ignorant.

Tucking the card into a chest pocket carefully before he returned his attention to the plush blanket, noting the deer designs worked into it, Alastor's impassive face lit up again as he couldn't recall the last time when a Sin had sent him a token of gratitude. To be sure, he hadn't even been aware he had made contact with ANY of them. The Sloth Ring was outside Pentagram City, but therein lay the thrill of leaving this province of Hell for greener pastures. Joke intended because he understood that the Lady Belphegor was a sheep.

Solemnly, taking the opportunity because he was alone, the quiet Radio Demon took the chance to press his face into the plush blanket, enjoying how pleasing it felt on his skin. Breathing it in deeply, his ears listing to droop, Alastor had made up his mind to thank her in person.

[arcanepactguile]

A ripple passes through the abyss as body and soul were severed. Eyes opened in the nothing. The eyes noticed him. Talons and tentacles unfurled from the nonlight. Countless maws yawned wide. They were glad to welcome him. They are eager to claim their due. They are hungry. And from this there can be no return...

𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 / ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ⸻ ｢ 🕯️ ｣

At what point do you decide when to draw the line, to stop fooling yourself that nightmares, even dreams — are harmless…?

Chest and back rising and falling rapidly, parts of the bedsheets adhered to his bare skin with cold fear, the Radio Demon had not bolted upright in bed, but had scrambled backwards in an effort to dodge the reach of those tentacles and claws, closing ground quickly to catch him. The buck's sweat had soaked through the bedding in his sleep, the transparent material rank with the scent of fear-induced perspiration.

In his panic, he had enough momentum to heave himself back to escape the assortment of limbs targetting him; in real life this turned out badly, with a sheet tangled around his legs, the tightness of the wrapped fabric mistaken for the coils of the unseen monstrosity’s tentacles. Alastor had made it only as far as the headboard: crashing into it with a bang, an empty liquor bottle rocking before it tipped over onto the floor from the nightstand. The bedside furniture absorbing the impact, he had woken up the very instant the serpentine tendrils had finished creeping up his legs to wind around his waist.

Simultaneously dragging him closer to it's gaping maws, the monster itself did not appear to obey the laws of physics, it’s form distorted and ever changing whenever he had thought he had recognised it.

Once his bound feet had gone over into the darkness inside one of it's mouths, disappearing into infinity as it seemed, Alastor had let loose a piercing scream: throwing his arms over to shield his face, claws crooked to clutch at nothing, in spite of a sharp talon extending to quieten the resistant deer by piercing his body through his chest like pinning a moth for collection.

Other tentacles were shimmying up his body, delving up through the openings of his pants' cuffs, under his coat, gliding over his shirt and sleeves to impede his frantic bucking as it dragged him into one of it's larger maws — the heat of it's wide tongue pushing underneath his legs to roll the tip into the small of the Radio Demon's back instilling a dread that this was only the beginning in the confused demon.

Gasping for breath, throat dry and painful, Alastor's eyes were glassy — tears leaving tracks down his flushed cheeks. Staring into the darkness that filled his room, he couldn't be sure that the nightmare was entirely a fragment of something not even real.

Slowly lowering his arms, tremors in his hunched shoulders persistent, the buck had to persuade himself that the nightmare was not a warning. Whereas dreamscapes often explained, even predicted reality, something so terrible as this terrifying vision couldn't allude to something in his future… Or somebody.

The back of his head where he had slammed into the headboard was throbbing dully; the deer demon wasn't afraid about anything like a concussion, but if his supposed screams had woken up others. Resisting the urge to stumble out of bed to triple-check that he had locked the door when he had first retired this night, Alastor's fear kept him bedridden.

Sinking back down into the unmade bed, at a loss on what to do, the buck coped with the vivid hallucination his usual way: curling up into a tight ball on his side, arms wrapped around his knees, burying his tears-streaked face into the gap between his folded arms and heaving chest.

The darkness was soothing, despite the limitless darkness enveloping him and the unidentified monster from the nightmare were partly to blame for his reaction to it. Alastor had always avoided sleeping, unless it was absolutely necessary. Falling asleep during the day was something the buck actually preferred to a night's sleep disturbed by nightmares. Chronic insomnia was an illness accepted and dismissed by society. It was better to 'pretend' and cite the inability to sleep than to admit he suffered from nightmares nearly everytime he closed his eyes.

Shuddering exhales were the only sounds coming from the Radio Demon's bed, the misshapen lump under the covers motionless save for his fear-stricken breathing.

[arcanepactguile]

"Is there anything you desire for Sinsmas, Alastor?"

Perked up, his Queen's curiousity had caught him at the worst time. On the verge of taking his leave, keen to pass some time alone in pursuit of drowning his sorrows analysing their relationship, maybe... this was opportunity knocking?

"A New Year's Eve spent with the One you love. A classic, don't you agree? Sinsmas might be a disaster. We can salvage it. "

[arcanepactguile]

𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗥𝗨𝗟𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

🪦 ⸻ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇꜱ / ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴅꜱ / ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇꜱ || ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀꜱ / ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋᴇʀ / ɴꜱꜰᴡ ꜰɪᴄ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ⸻ ( ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ)

21+ — Dark & heavy themes will be covered, such as toxicity, gore, violence, sex, SA, substance abuse, & mental illness. My portrayal is Canon Compliant + HCs based, MultiVerses / MultiShips. Med—High activity. 0 tolerance for discourse.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴅᴏᴠᴇ! — 𝐄𝐒𝐓. 𝟏𝟒.𝟎𝟐.𝟐𝟒 - 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝟐𝟐.𝟏𝟎.𝟐𝟒

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 32 . 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐓 7 . 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗 0 . 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 1.

𝙀𝙓𝘾𝙇𝙐𝙎𝙄𝙑𝙀 @tastefulfinery

𝘼𝙁𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙎 @angie-long-legs @hells-musing-along @hellsgreatestperformance @hellsgreatestsideshow @baphomet-slumber-queen

𝙈𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙎 @poisonedspider @justiceiswrath

𝘽𝙊𝘿𝙔 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏 @aroyaltailor @primordialruin

Some tags explained...

𝙀𝙓𝘾𝙇𝙐𝙎𝙄𝙑𝙀 — Rare. Permanent, canon, privilege as only muse.

𝘼𝙁𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙎 — First pick, blogwide canon, established/heavy.

𝙈𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙎 — Regulars, high interactions, etc.

𝘽𝙊𝘿𝙔 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏 — Muns who I've just started writing with.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐓 : Not Safe for Tumblr. Spicy.

𝐐&𝐀 — 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 : 00C questions for me.

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — 𝐓𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐧 𝐈𝐧 : IC questions for Alastor.

𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 — 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄 : IC, open for TBC.

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 — 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 : Shower thoughts.

𝐇𝐂 — 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 : Headcanons.

𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 — 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐮𝐭 : IC answers.

𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 — 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 : Anons.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 — 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭 : Starters.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 : Moots shenanigans.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 — 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 : Ships, boards, etc

𝐎𝐎𝐂 — 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐲 : OOC.

𝐎𝐎𝐂 — 𝐌𝐮𝐠𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 : 00C questionnaires.

𝐎𝐎𝐂 — 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚! 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚! : Announcements.

𝐎𝐎𝐂 — 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 : OOC RPC musing/jokes.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 — 𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘 : Taps the sign.