#the inhabitant of hell are in for a treat

[kidokear]

My current Ultrakill brainrot + my excitement over ep 7 of Murder drones = 👆

[fanofspooky]

Scream Queen - Leslie Bibb

[roseyswords]

So I'm rewatching Mastermind immediately after watching it the first time, as you do

And there is a huge ass fucking lore drop this episode.

Satan says that he created impkind to be obedient.

SATAN CREATED IMPS. AND HE DID IT SPECIFICALLY TO HAVE THEM BE OBEDIENT SERVANTS. THIS IS EXPLAINING SO MUCH ABOUT YHE HISTORY OF HELL AND WHY IMPS ARE LOOKED DOWN ON SO MUCH AND HOW THEYVE BEEN TREATED.

Also did the other sins make their inhabitants too? Did Asmodius create succubi, did Beazulbub make hellhounds, did Mammon create the shark demons ?!

Holy fuck! This is huge!

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Animal Farm: Tuesdays

Three Yandere Dog Men x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, knotting, nonhuman genitals, cum swallowing, spitroasting, biting, male harem, dog men, reader fucked silly, general yandere behavior, licking, scent marking Word Count: 555 (The next long awaited installment in my farm series. I hope you all love it. <3 I did not bother having this beta read, sorry for any mistakes. The original fic can be found HERE along with the links to the other installments)

You were still tired from the thorough orgy that the harpies had given. At least they provided you with plenty of gentle aftercare. But now it was Tuesday. And that meant that you were the property of the dog-men. Another day in the endless cycle of being a cumdump for horny monster men. You really dreaded time with the dogs. They always ended up biting the hell out of your neck. You entered the small cabin that the dog men inhabited and one of the cat men, Lionel, came stumbling out with a dazed look on his face and cum dribbling down his thighs. Good… maybe that would mean there urges were already taken care o- Your train of thought was interrupted when you were thrown on the bed by the most assertive of the three dog men, the one that had the ears and tail of s German Shepherd, Thorn. His claws slid under your waist band and partially pulled down to reveal your hole which he lapped at like a treat. “Fuck, I have been waiting a week for this farmer~” Apparently breeding Lionel did nothing to quell the desire to bury their knots in you. When he got tired of fucking you with his tongue he slid his dick in to the base, the bone in it jabbed you painfully until it mercifully swelled to full size. The stretch was only mildly uncomfortable. After bringing you to climax his knot inflated in you and kept the two of you tied with him periodically humping gently to enjoy the sweet friction against his knot as he plied you full of his hot seed. He gave your neck a quick bite before sliding out of you and then before you knew it one of the other two, this time the husky-like dog man, Corr, was slamming into you. But the third, Len, the fluffy one that had the features of a Newfoundland, couldn’t wait his turn. So while Corr was busy breeding your overstimulated hole Len took it upon himself to slide past your soft lips. The smell of his musky cock filled your nostrils as his nuts slapped your chin with every thrust. You whimpered and moaned lustfully into his cock as Corr started to knot you. Corr bit you on your shoulders and back as he began the long process of slowly depositing cum in waves into you as dog men did. Your body shook as you came again, but you started gagging a bit as Len knotted in your mouth. His dick twitched periodically as it sent another wave of bitter cum down your throat, leaving you no other option but to swallow. If you thought you were done you were sorely mistaken. Thorn had gotten hard again and plunged his cock right back into your now cum-lubed hole the second Corr had pulled out of it. A few hours later, when the fuck fest was finally done, the dog men all turned very loving and gentle. They licked you clean of their seed and bathed you, but they rubbed your clothes with their scent before allowing you to get dressed again. They spent the rest of the day feeding, cuddling, and caring for their little mate who was too dazed and tired from all the sex to really do much.

[good-advice-ganondorf]

Majora's Mask and what it means to be grown up

(aka my collected analysis of the Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask)

I will say that generally I don't think Termina is purgatory, or a dream, or anything like that. To me, Termina is kind of like a Silent Hill type parallel world, where you face your deepest traumas.

First, the parallels between Majora's Mask, and the child section of Ocarina of Time.

The first dungeon for both games is in a vast wooded area, there are woodland races inhabiting both areas, the Kokiri for Ocarina of Time, and the Deku for Majora's mask. The second dungeon is in a great mountain, inhabited by the Gorons. The third dungeon is in a vast body of water, inhabited by the Zora.

Then, things split. After Jabu Jabu, Link becomes an adult. After Great Bay, there's Ikana Canyon. A land of nothing but Death.

Who caused the death of Ikana? Who else but the king, Igo Du Ikana. Ikana was plunged into disrepair, after Igos started a war with a clan of Ninjas, to receive a powerful artifact, in a great and mysterious temple. Sound familiar? It should, this is exactly what Ganondorf did, after Link was sealed away for seven years. But Ganondorf was successful.

But Ikana isn't completely occupied by the dead, no. Pamela remains, with her father, turned into an undead monster. Much like Sheik, the last Sheikah, who is revealed to be Zelda. And her father? He's never seen, but I'd imagine it would be easy enough for Ganondorf to become king, if the other one was no longer around. From a man, to a corpse.

So, if Ganondorf is a parallel to Igos, and Zelda is a parallel to Pamela, what about Link? He's a little different. I believe that, along with Kafei and Tingle, all three of the transformation masks are a representation of Link, and his feelings towards being forced to grow up.

Tingle is, as we know, a 35 year old man who thinks he's a fairy boy. Similar to how link was a 10 year old boy, who thought he was a fairy boy. I believe Tingle is a reflection of what Link could have been if he never left Kokiri Forest. An adult hylian man, thinking he's a Kokiri.

On the contrary, Kafei is distraught at the idea of becoming a child again. He's weaker, he can't marry his fiancee, and everyone treats him like well, a child, despite his maturity. I believe this is how Link feels after becoming a child again. He used to be a strong adult, and even if he's not as mature as Kafei, he still went through a lot, and knows a lot more about life now. Kafei even reuses Link's model and animations.

There's a reoccurring theme in Ocarina of Time where Link just doesn't belong anywhere he goes. He's an outsider to the other races, because he's a hylian, but he's also an outsider to the hylians, because he was raised as a Kokiri. I think the transformation masks reflect that.

The Deku Butler's Son is what he could have been as a Kokiri. He could have been a happy little boy, living with his father, and his community. But Link and the Deku butler's son both left home to explore, and as far as both the Kokiri and the Deku are concerned, neither came back.

Darmani is what he could have been as a Goron. A powerful hero to the Gorons, celebrated by them for clearing Dodongo's Cavern. A close link between the goron elder, Darunia, and their sons. Both him and Link remain after death, lamenting on their histories as heros.

Mikau is what he could have been as a Zora. Maybe not a cool as hell guitarist, but a husband to Ruto, and Prince of the Zora Who would stop at nothing to keep her happy and safe, like infiltrating a fortress, or climbing inside of a whale.

Even the Fierce Deity is just Link, but back as an adult. As if so much changed so rapidly, he felt like he transformed into something less like himself, and more like a powerful god. He could have continued being strong, and powerful, the defeater of Ganon, but he had to become a child again. He has to stay as a small, and unknown child.

The ages of the masks even match the human life cycle. According to the debug menu (and if you subscribe to the theory that Link and DBS's ages were swapped), DBS is 5, Link is 12, Darmani is 30, Mikau is 78, and, Fierce Deity is 17, likely due to his model being recycled from adult Link's. Link starts the game in the body of a 5 year old, then a 12 year old, then a 30 year old, then a 72 year old, and finally, a God.

We don't exactly know how Link feels. But I can't imagine it would be easy to go from a child, with no concept of death, to be thrust into a position where he's forced to fight and kill an adult man so much stronger than he is. And then everything was just reversed. Like that. As if it never happened. And only Link remembers the impending doom he faced. All he can do is remember Ganondorf's reign. Almost like he's reliving the same few days, again, and again, and again.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish (Alastor x Reader) Chapter One -- Seven Years

Pairing: Alastor x Reader (Hazbin Hotel)

Warnings: Um, language?????? no gore in tis one. Tbh, this chapter is pretty chill.

Word Count: 1,278

Master List Links:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I'm back from the dead. Hi.

"Love you... Bye." Charlie hung up the phone.

Quietly, she slipped back inside the hotel, shutting the door behind her. Things had not gone as planned today and they had not gone well either. She wanted this hotel to work, more than anything in the world she wanted to do what she could for her people. At the same time, it was hard not to feel hopeless after the mess on TV earlier and the lack of response from her mother. Letting out a protected sigh, she shut her eyes, leaning against the door.

As soon as Charlie's back hit the stained glass paneling, there came a quiet knock. Opening her eyes, she pulled herself from the door and tentatively turned towards it. Hope and a twinge of fear battled for control of Charlie as, at the sound of the person knocking a second time, she opened the door.

"Hel-"

Charlie shut the door right in the Radio Demon's face. Brow furrowed with confusion, doubt at what she had seen obscuring her mind, she opened it again.

"-lo!"

Charlie shut the door once again. Turning slowly, her eyes wide and her mind whirling, she headed into the main sitting area of the lobby.

"Hey Vaggie?" Charlie called for her girlfriend as she entered.

"What?" Vaggie asked, throwing her head over the back of the couch she was resting on as she did so, meeting Charlie's anxious eyes.

"The Radio Demon is at the door!" Charlie replied, her tone hiding nothing as she mocked the demon's well known smile, pointing back to the hotel entrance.

Vaggie straightened up immedeatly.

"What!" she exclaimed.

Angel, who was sitting on the couch beside her enjoying a popsicle, looked over in mild confusion. Shrugging, he decided he didn't really care and returned to his treat.

"What should I do?" Charlie practically begged.

"Well, don't let him in." Vaggie almost seemed more stressed by the situation than her girlfriend.

Charlie sighed, turning to look back at the door. Slowly, ignoring Vaggie's protests, she approached it once again. Steeling herself, Charlie opened the door.

"May I speak now?" the Radio Demon asked.

Charlie crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at him with an unamused expression.

"You may."

The speed with which the demon shot out his hand to shake her own took Charlie aback.

"Alastor." he announced, bowing so that they were eye to eye, "Pleasure to be meeting you. Yes, quite the pleasure."

--

Y/n's life had changed a lot in the past seven years. From the top of Hell to the bottom, her own personal fall. Not that she'd ever really been at the top, no. Just next to it. The spotlight had never really been her thing.

Hell had been Y/n's home for nearly seventy years. The picture perfect housewife gone mad. In life, she had secured her place after death in blood. Abusive didn't look good on her dearly departed husband after all and what was the point of life if not ridding out the rot to save the flowers?

Death had not come easily or without pain. After the police had caught her, she'd been found innocent for reason of insanity in the courts and sent to an asylum. No one seemed to want to hear or believe her part of the story. Just a year or so after her husband's death, she found peace through a failed lobotomy in 1955 and woke up to red skies.

Thankfully, Hell was large and inhabited enough that she never seemed to run into him down here. Y/n wasn't proud of what she had done in life, but she didn't regret it either. The truth was, she loved Hell. It was vibrant and lively. It was interesting. She had quickly found friends, moved up in the world. Then, the world had changed.

Seven years nearly to the day. Things had been rough at first, there was a new way in which she had had to learn to interact with the world around her. That was when she'd met Blitzo, in those early days of being on her own. Y/n would've thanked god but, god didn't come around these parts and far too many awful things had happened since then anyways but, she still saw their meeting as an odd sort of blessing. She had never been very good at being alone and he did save her, in a way. Even gave her a job at I.M.P., his business.

It was odd for a sinner to be working subservient to an imp in Hell, but not unheard of. Y/n got some looks on the street, sure. Some clients asked some rude questions and she wasn't technically allowed in the human realm but, neither were any of them really. Overall, she found her new life to be quite enjoyable, the good with the bad. Not as cushy or pleasant as her old life, but she saw no use in dwelling on any of that. It had been seven years, for heaven's sake. She couldn't hold out hope for something that would clearly never happen. Besides, she had always had a bit of a mean streak and the job helped deal with that.

She was a sinner, it was obvious. About a head taller than Blitzo, she was a 1950s dream: all movie star hair and legs. When he had first joined I.M.P. a few years ago, she'd even worn the dresses to match. Once they started getting actual jobs, once Blitzo had found a way to travel to the human realm, that had changed. Y/n had seen the fashions of the knew world and enjoyed them quite a bit.

Rings on five of ten fingers, heaps of necklaces, even a tattoo or two. She topped off the whole look with black cargo pants, tank tops, and a choker with spikes and a ring on it. It all went rather well with the attributes she'd acquired once arriving in hell.

She come off lucky in regards to changes in her body when she had died. When people fell into the pits, they received attributes that somehow related to the person they were on earth as well as how they died. Y/n had been harmless on the outside, and able to cause real harm if pushed to it. Docile and gentle, but angry. So she'd ended up like this, with little freckles and a white dots of various sizes marring her now grey skin. Sweet little horns perched on the top of her head, a thin forked tail, and sharp teeth when she was provoked. It made sense, if it was a bit stereotypical. Overall, she couldn't complain.

She had been lying in bed in the apartment she now shared with Blitzo and Loona when she'd felt it in her bones. It was an odd sort of shiver that went down her spine, a tingle at the back of her head. The world had changed again. Y/n didn't know how she knew that, or why, or even in what ways things had become different, but laying there in the dark, something shifted.

She sat up, looking out the window over the darkened landscape of pentagram city. Off in the distance, she could just barley make out the lights of the Princess of Hell's new passion project, some rehab center for sinners or something of the like. Y/n let out a sigh.

The last time she felt this way, her whole life had fallen apart. As she laid back down, she couldn't help but pray to whoever was listening it wouldn't be happening again.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Two -- Where Is She

[islandlobster]

hai . thinking about wind waker's food 😵‍💫

theres a lot of emphasis on seafood in fanon but in reality there are NO fish out there to be eaten.

on the other hand, both pigs and crabs look pretty abundant, so i think theyre used as the main sources of protein ^.^ seagulls are a potential too but i feel the other two options are easier and quicker to capture and prep. seagulls are prob mostly esten by seafarers that didn't ration their supplies very well

iii can see a lot of soups stews and hotpots being a staple in the average great sea inhabitant's diet, obv the Main food item we see is grandma's soup which helps 👍 i personally think her soup is some sort of red lentil soup, with crabmeat and spices and a teeny bit of blue chu jelly ^_^ blue chus are super rare so grandma was saving it for link's birthday treat :)

something to be said abt the elixir soup is how it acts like a blue potion, so i can for sure see islanders using chu jelly in food and beverages rather than Solely for potionmaking, especially bc of how many places chus spawn . i think theyd be good for making a sweet treat ^_^

more onto drinks, ww had a coffee shop! explicitly saying that it has coffee and coffee beans too 🥳🥳🥳 it's particularly fun bc irl pirates had a history of drinking coffee a lot lol

theres way more to be picked apart but this is getting long as hell and i'm sleepy . okay bye foreverrr

[luckyorchid]

The sun’s up

Comic 1 (PT. 1)

(Lore + Context is below!)

Hoo boy here we go (SPOILERS for anyone who wants to experience sky by themselves!)

Sky lore for Non-players (Feel free to skip, just added this since the story is a bit tied to the lore in game)

Some of the basics:

Core / Flame = Life source.

The ancestors are the original “humanoid” inhabitants of the world. Light creatures (animals) were the first inhabitants though. Sky beings were the last creations to solidify the inhabitants.

Light creatures & Sky beings all have a “core” which means they’re all connected and living off of light as their life source.

Sky beings are essentially just stars that fell on the world and decided to exist LMAO. You can't make one, so you just have to pray really hard for a shooting star.

Realms & Elders:

ignoring the middle one for now, there are 6 realms. Each realm has different climates (But it wasn’t always like that), and settings.

Isle of Dawn - Sandy terrain

Daylight prairie - Hills, grass, oceans and flowers.

Hidden forest - A forest where it rains non-stop

Valley of Triumph - A valley / mountainside that snows non-stop

Golden wasteland - Hell (/j) / Sandy terrain with toxic water.

Vault of Knowledge - Massive tower stored with history and knowledge

In the comic, they’re in “Hidden Forest.” Each realm has an Elder, who is essentially someone who governs the realm. They’re just here to make sure everything is stable.

History (This is all based off of my own observation + Tom Zhao's concept art!):

For that middle realm, it's called "Eye of Eden" and or where the "Storm" originated from. It also has an elder, but he's more or less "King of all kings" sort of thing. He had the say in most things. Eye of Eden never had a clear vision on what it was before the storm, but I'd imagine it would be a sort of sanctuary.

Speaking of before the storm, some realms weren't how they are right now, like how Isle of dawn used to be like Daylight prairie.

Moving on, at first every one was pretty chill, until the king found something called Dark stone. Dark stone is like...the opposite of light? It's like if you shoved a rock into gasoline and something radioactive. Despite it, the elders find out dark stone can be used to make advanced technology, so of course they take the chance to overuse it.

The light creatures and sky beings suffer from the effects of this. While sky beings were taken to areas with less dark stone, light creatures were treated with more hostility. This causes the ancestors and light creatures to go to war with each other.

Long story short; Dark stone corrupted the ancestors and started destroying the environment, because it literally uses light / fire as its power. The creatures said "Nuh-uh" and started fighting back. The final fight (that transpired in Eden) gets so bad that most of the dark stone explodes and creates a massive storm that affects all the realms, and most of the people die including the elders and king 😭

This is where "Dark creatures" start to thrive. These silly little guys are similar to dark stone, they love eating light.

Ratio & Kakavasha Lore

Ratio was born before the storm, while Kakavasha was born when the storm had already happened.

Veritas Ratio Lore:

Ratio was a smart kid, and a lot of people noticed it. That's it/j In fact, a lot of people noticed it, so he was dragged into the Sky version of the intelligentsia guild- in training, of course. He's too young to start running stuff, even if he insists on it.

It got to the point where even the elders acknowledged him, and some wanted him to be their advisor when he reached the right age. Veritas is (internally) ecstatic about this. He still holds the ideals of OG ratio, universal knowledge, and as an advisor he can further be of influence for good.

He was never close to his peers, in fact they couldn't count on their fingers just how many times he's called them idiots and other remarks, but he'd never go as far as to say he hated them. Fond? Maybe, just a teensy bit. A silent room is nice, but after a prolonged period, he may seek out that background noise of chatter. (Or not)

(Ref used: S1 arcane poster) Then the storm came. The storm pretty much threw all of his dreams to the abyss, and not only that- he had to witness the things he loved and cared for either die or go into shambles. He's one of the few survivors, but he's harboring a lot of guilt and contempt towards most things. (aka everything. He always thinks of "Why's" Why did the elders let it get this far? Why were the ancestors so selfish? Why couldn't he do anything to stop his friends from being eaten by those dark creatures?)

He stays with other survivors in safe realms (Daylight prairie), and he tries his best to be of help. Specifically: hunting. (Haha get it cause the hunt *cough*) He likes to join in hunting squads to kill dark creatures in the Hidden Forest, and if he can; study the body. It's morbid, but he wants to find ways to mitigate attacks.

Kakavasha Lore

The Avgin clan are all semi-dark creatures. Their landing spot is always within an area full of dark stone, so it's like their core merges with it. They can all turn into "Krills" (Sky version of dragon). Despite this, most of them have a kind nature and wouldn't go out of their way to hurt Sky beings. They settle on eating fruits, birds, and fish.

They live in Wasteland, which is littered with dark creatures. Despite sharing the same origins, even they have to be careful. Hungry creatures aren't picky after all.

But due to their advantage, they can usually freely travel through the Valley and Hidden Forest to scavenge for food and other materials.

Kakavasha loves to join his sister for scavenging, and he loves finding out about things in general, so much so his sister always has to look behind her shoulder to make sure he isn't doing anything risky. "High risk, high reward!" He still can't turn into a krill, but he can make his hands sharp! Other than that, he's pretty happy. The storm hasn't affected them much- in fact, it's an advantage. Though, he always wonders what's beyond the forest, snow and sands.

Post-storm Kakavasha happens when the storm starts to calm down and the sky beings start to regain their footing. This is how his clan gets found out and gets hunted down, until he and a few were the only survivors. He's used as a test subject to better understand dark creatures, but of course there was no consideration of his well-being. As long as he isn't dead. Similar to the OG hsr lore, he ended up killing the people who 'owned' him. But this time, he was freed with pardon because damn look at all that trauma. In this AU he's free to do whatever without someone shackling him down, but it doesn't make him feel any better to what happened to his clan and himself. He feels a bit of spite towards Sky beings, but he doesn't outright act on it...much.

This ended up having more lore than it's supposed to have 😭 I'll make a continuation comic of their first meeting, and some other random shenanigans these two end up getting into LMAO. Thanks for reading and have a good day <33

[vikkirosko]

Hello. Since you're writing for Hazbin Hotel, how about Husk, Alastor, Valentino and Sir Pentious with S/O, who's way too determined for their own good? Like, even when it's obvious that S/O should cut their losses and retreat, they instead will try and try again.

Headcanons Excessive determination

📻 Alastor x Reader 🎙

Alastor often witnessed fights in which you participated. You fought a lot and quite often you fought until your opponents gave up or ran away. You were overly determined and it didn't seem like it should have been a problem, but in fact it really was a problem

You were ready to fight even if your opponents outnumbered you and were armed. Alastor rarely interfered in your fights, watching you continue to fight with confidence. Quite often you got injured because of this, but even that couldn't break your resolve

When Alastor saw that you had absolutely no chance of winning, he intervened. He didn't even need to get into a fight to do that, the only thing he needed to do was approach. The sight of him alone scared most of the inhabitants of Hell. At times like this, you told him that you could have handled it on your own. He just smiled at you and agreed with you, but he wasn't going to leave you if you could die because of your determination and stubbornness

Alastor was amused to watch how your determination made your life difficult. However, when he saw that you were about to do something that was obviously too dangerous, he stopped you. He didn't need to convince you not to do it for a long time, because under his pressure your resolve was cracking

🃏 Husk x Reader 🥃

Husk has known you for a long time and knew what kind of person you were. You were overly determined. You were not afraid of fights and often became a participant in them, even if your opponents outnumbered or outgunned you. You simply didn't pay attention to it, confident of your victory. However, you didn't always come out of fights unscathed

Every time you came to him wounded after fights, he would loudly scold you, telling you to think with your head when you fight. He was angry that you were so careless about your own safety and your own health. Even though he didn't tell you, he was worried that after another fight like this, you might not come back

When you returned wounded late, he would come out from behind the bar and treat your wounds without ceasing to grumble. He felt calmer when you came back, because you were alive. He told you every time to be careful and not to continue fighting if the chances of winning were small. Husk knew that you probably wouldn't listen to him, but he told you about it anyway

Husk was well aware that your excessive determination was a problem, even though you didn't think it was. Husk could only hope that you would finally begin to rationalize your chances and strengths, and your excessive determination would not cause your second death

💞 Valentino x Reader 🚬

It was the first time Valentino heard about you from friends. They talked about you as a determined person, but it was only through personal acquaintance that he found out that your determination could sometimes go to your own detriment. This was especially understandable when you became part of a conflict

He witnessed one of these conflicts. You fought alone against several bandits with whom you did not share something. There were more of them and they were better armed than you, but you didn't care about that yourself. You were ready to keep fighting even if it meant you could get hurt yourself

Several times he watched as his subordinates treated your wounds that you received after another fight. You claimed you were fine, but Valentino wouldn't let his subordinates stop treating your wounds. He saw perfectly well the state you were in and wasn't going to let your excessive determination hurt you

He began to send several of his people with you more often so that you would not get into trouble. You were against it, but Valentino didn't ask for your opinion on the matter. He liked you and he didn't want you to get hurt because you always relied on yourself, even when the difference in strength was obvious

🐍Sir Pentious x Reader 🎩

For a long time, you have been not only a partner for Sir Pentious, but also a partner in his attempts to gain more power. You were always the first to rush into battle and at first he was delighted with your determination, until he realized that very often it hurts you more than it helps

The realization of this came to him after several fights in which you participated. Every time you fought like you didn't feel any pain and risked yourself even if you were outnumbered. Sir Pentious saw you fight against several sinners who, unlike you, were well armed, but you did not even think to retreat, confident that you could win

Every time after such fights, he was busy treating your wounds. Even with his help, you couldn't avoid getting hurt, but you didn't get upset about it. He asked you to be careful, but you rarely listened to him, which is why you returned, although pleased with your victory, but wounded again

Pentious knew that your determination was too strong, but there wasn't much he could do. The only thing he could really do was try to be close to you and, if necessary, come to your aid so that you would not die, because even in Hell it was possible to die

[helluverse-rewrites]

Rewriting the Sins

Special thanks to @helluvablenda for probably unintentionally and lowkey accidentally giving me a super sick idea :)

Gonna cover this first before going into each individual sin. I'm not gonna be having their sins be their only personality trait. I want their to be nuance and interesting characters, but at first glance it appears that way, and that's pretty much how everyone sees them. Asmodeus being called the lust/horny guy by hell, Belphegor being known as the lazy one, etc. etc.

But they are so much more than their sins but hell doesn't realize that and borderline refuses to acknowledge it. So they all kinda knew that no matter how hard they tried, it's not gonna change anything. So they ended up making their respective sins their only personality trait

Anyways let's talk about Asmodeus guys

Asmodeus

Doing these in order of appearance btw

One of the only characters I would actually smash. I hate what they did to Asmodeus (and Fizzarolli... and their dynamic but I'm getting into that later) even though I'm not sure if I'm gonna fix him all that well

Basically the idea is that growing up (if the sins actually had childhoods) he was a real sweetheart, a real gentle giant, a guy who would never hurt a fly. He would never raise his voice and has the patience of a saint. He could be talking to the Vegan Teacher and never lose his temper. Mostly because he's a people pleaser. Yes, he knows he should toughen up and gain a backbone, but it just... It feels so wrong!!!

Enter Fizzarolli, I will eventually make a post about Fizzmodeus as well as the rest of the ships, but the two don't exactly get along at first, but eventually they start to get along. And the imp taught Asmodeus how to speak up for himself :) and even though Asmodeus is still a sweetheart, he is a bit of an asshole sometimes (Fizzy's influence)

I have more things I wanna say, but I'm waiting to talk about Fizzmodeus (and Fizz) So I'm not quite done with him, just for now

Till we meet again Ozzie >:)

Beelzebub

Ah yes, the creator of Hellhounds herself (I think. Whenever someone brings up Bee and the Hellhounds I always get so confused. So if you don't like when I talk about them in this section... uh, sorry)

When Bee created the Hellhounds, the initial idea was that so hell could just have more inhabitants. More people = more partying! It's literally the most flawless plan

... Until during a meeting with the sins, Lucifer brought an idea that shook Bee to her core. How about the Hellhounds work under the upper class? And have adoption homes? Bee never really liked Lucifer all that much, he's petty, never admits when he's wrong, and is super annoying. What shocks Bee even more is that most of the sins agreed (except for Ozzie) and Bee is about to exclaim that she's the one who created Hellhounds! Shouldn't she get a say in all of this? That is until she catches Lucifer's eye. Sure, he's annoying and really fucking short, but she saw how he gets when things don't go his way

He's giving her a look that goes "Don't even think about speaking unless you want to die tonight."

So Bee just had to sit there and accept it. The fact that the very things she created were being turned into fucking slaves and abused under her rule... it's just awful. And relationships with the Hellhounds weren't the same after that. Some downright hated her and would treat her the way Stolas was treated in Mastermind basically. They wouldn't listen when Bee tried to explain to them that it was out of her control, and she honestly doesn't blame her. Some do understand but they do end up keeping her distance from now on

So to make up for it she tries to host as many parties as possible for the Hellhounds, and when Lucifer isn't involved she does try to speak up against this injustice which raises the question "Where were you when we needed you?" And she hasn't gotten over this guilt since the day it happened

I'm sorry that might've not been the best explanation for Hellhounds and such but I did want to make Bee likeable and keep in the whole thing with Hellhounds so I just thought about an instance where maybe it was out of her control. One thing's for certain, she constantly beats herself up for not being able to stand up against Lucifer

Now personality wise, relatively the same. Still blunt and shoves cotton candy down people's throats. I just mostly wanted to cover the main issue I see a lot of people have with Bee and rightly so

Mammon

Mammon is honestly kind of the same. Still manipulative and abusive. A greedy little guy

But I will be taking out the insensitive fat jokes directed at him. See, for Mammon, he likes to act stupid, like he doesn't know what he's doing to lure others into a false sense of security

One trait I want to give Mammon though is that he's a sucker for kids. He's great with them. He loved babysitting baby Charlie and always got up in little shenanigans with her. He's all for manipulating and hurting adults, but if he were to do that with a kid would be crossing the line in his eyes

Leviathan

Okay so Leviathan and Belphegor are going to be a bit difficult because there's almost no information about them in regards to the helluverse but I'm going to try my best

I want the heads to be at each other's throats, like constantly. Since Levi's the sin of envy, the heads are extremely envious of each other, always bickering and shit. Only once every thousand years will you see them get along

But when they do get along? They will bully you endlessly. They bring out the worst of each other

The human head in my mind is more extroverted and loves talking while the dragon head is introverted and hates having to talk to people

Eh it's not much but at least it's something

Belphegor

(Ignore Bee and Ozzie)

Okay I'm gonna be real, I have no idea what I want to do with her. At least with Leviathan I had somewhat of an idea. But with Belphegor I got nothing

I did see this really cool theory with her and the sloth ring so I might do something with that

Idk pls share your ideas with me if you have any. Who knows? Maybe Belphegor might be important in the future

Oh wait she's a woman nevermind-

Satan

Ah yes. Satan. Now I don't really have much to change either (wow. What an interesting post I'm making/sar)

I do like the thought of him and Yogirt being boyfriends though. I think that's fun and silly :3

Even though Satan does have a temper and is very dramatic at times. There is one thing that he loves more than anything: the sins

Okay well technically that's several things but he sees them all as little brothers/sisters and would destroy all of the rings of hell if it would make them happy

He loves them all. Except for one...

Lucifer

Goddam his smug face pisses me off so much how do people find him attractive???

Anyways. He's a bad guy now. An antagonist :)

He was very absent in Charlie's life and would just get one of the other sins to babysit her. Which... they love her, but it does get a bit frustrating when he drops them off on their doorstep with no prior warning. Especially when they have other business to attend to

He is extremely condescending and views everyone as beneath him. He's clearly better than these good for nothing sinners! His condescending nature is something Charlie unfortunately picked up, which is why she ends up treating others like children (she isn't even aware of this fact)

He just thinks people in hell don't deserve mercy. Or anything good, really. He often talks down to Charlie and not so subtly dunks on her dream at any chance he gets. He finds it so funny how people can't stand up for him because they know he's more powerful than he looks

He never admits when he's wrong and immediately kills anyone who tries to call him out

[goblincow]

Dear Inhabitants of Indie TTRPG Tumblr, may I bring to your attention the fantastic interview @monsterfactoryfanfic gave on the new Talk of the Table episode.

I want to take this interview and put it in a time capsule because this feels like such an accurate and interesting depiction of what's happening in indie TTRPGs at this specific point in time.

I spend so much time listening to these podcasts with all these brilliant designers overflowing with wisdom, and when you hear all the games and designers mentioned in this interview, all the touchstones being discussed and compared, it really feels like a perspective on this design space that understands so many of the different ways it takes shape right now.

TTRPG tumblr gets a shout out 10 mins in, along with heaps of recommendations that are obscure even here, all flowing in and out of the same conversation as the most notable names, games and ideas in the scene today.

Cant recommend it enough, go listen to it multiple times because theres so much to learn in there.

This is why I'm so enthusiastic about indie TTRPGs all the time, we're surrounded by extremely thoughtful and skilled people making some of the coolest stuff I've ever seen, and hearing someone talk about it in such a comprehensive and insightful way is an absolute treat.

Hell yeah.

[eldritch-spouse]

I'd give almost anything to be squished between Vesper and Santi.

[You'll give your holes, that's for sure. Fem reader.]

" Are you sure I'm ready? "

Santi watches you squirm in place, picking and plucking at an outfit that shows more skin than anything you've ever put on before. He assured you, several times, that by the standards of Lust you're being very conservative.

The incubus rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundredth time, but tries to be patient. After all, going to Hell, even if just for a little visit, isn't something all humans treat casually. Especially not his darling match, poor thing that you are, so ignorant of his origins, his nature. Visiting the King of Lust specifically is twofold the stress for your little head, he must imagine.

" And why wouldn't you be, love? "

You huff.

" I... I don't know... What if I get nervous and say something really stupid? This is a -What did you call them?- An Icon of Hell, I can't be making a fool of myself- "

" Dearest. " The dark demonoid interrupts, lifting himself off a lush bed to stand behind your figure in the mirror. " Vesper may be a King, but he's also my friend. I only want him to know about us, you're going to do just fine. "

Averting your gaze from his, your lips are still firmly set in a frown.

Santi whispers sweetly. " Don't you trust me? "

" Y- Yes. "

There's a grin. He plays with the hem of your scarce top enough to let a nipple flash for a lurid second.

" Then do this one favor for me, I promise you'll like him. He's quite the character. " Understatement.

He can hear your heartbeat pound inside the vehicle.

The trip through his birth Ring has been uneventful for the most part. It could only have been that. You may be considered fresh meat by his kin that inhabit this particular zone of Hell, but you're accompanied by a high-ranker and being escorted in a limousine sporting the royal insignia.

No one would dare interfere.

It doesn't stop the curious glances, the oohs and aahs, or the sights Lust often has on display. The streets are an open ground for depravity, it's very standard to watch pairs and groups of demonoids crawling over each other in a cacophony of moans, humans and monsters alike giving into their carnal whims, lewd smiles on their faces as they're paraded in fetish gear and shown off like the prizes many of them are.

Santi watches your scandalized expressions as you nearly fog up the window in morbid curiosity.

" S- Santi! "

" Mm? "

" They're- Oh lord, they're tied to a post Santi! "

He arches a brow, fingers ceasing their casual groping of your thighs to glance out, seeing some poor sod of a human tied to a street post by the wrists. They look disheveled and pant in exertion, sweaty, infernal obscenities scribbled on their skin while gratuitous amounts of seed ooze out of their orifices. They lean on the post for support.

" Oh, the poor thing- " He jests, failing to keep straight-faced at your glare. " They're going to keel over! "

The fiend who had just finished using the community cumdump gives them a loving pat on the head and reaches from a bag to offer the human water. The two appear to be chatting idly. Santi watches confusion etch itself in your pretty complexion at the contrast of the human's bruised, exhausted state and the care they're shown by the one you recognize as an assailant.

The nature of Lust is conflicting.

It's oftentimes hard to tell whether or not someone is here of their own volition, partaking and letting go because they decided to, or because they caved under the Ring's influence and began to enjoy their unfortunate demise.

Some people argue that Lust is the most merciful Ring of Hell for those that get dragged into the annex, because while you may lose yourself, your last lucid moments are spent in utter bliss, and that bliss is what you'll know from henceforth. Others argue that Lust offers the ultimate humiliation of the soul, turning you into a beast of the flesh that craves only to use and be used.

Santi doesn't quite care. The end result is always the same, everyone enjoys themselves here.

Deciding that perhaps it's best not to let you get too into your own head, the incubus looms behind your concentrated figure and plants soft kisses on the back of your neck, gently coaxing you to turn around so he can pull you into his lap and shower you in idle affections.

" Santi... " You start while he kisses the back of your hand.

" Yes, love? "

" How did you and the King meet? "

What a question.

He doesn't want to think too much about those days, that past which seems so distant yet not at all. He was someone else, back then. Someone harsher, someone you wouldn't have fancied, someone who'd make you quake in fear even if your loins sang. He wouldn't have been able to appreciate you for the treasure that you are, during that period. You deserve more than that, you're worth the world and all its pleasures.

" I don't remember all that well anymore, but I know it was during a party, sweetness. " He vaguely replies.

" An orgy. " You correct him, having started to put two and two together about the cultural cues of a concubus' speech.

" Same thing. " Santi counters, knowing very well there's a difference.

A silence settles for a brief couple of moments where the incubus gets to close his eyes and bask in the comfort of your perfect form, feeling your every muscle twitch against him, the hitch of your breath as arousal has yet to fade from your system.

He's doing this intentionally.

For things to go well today, it's ideal for you to always be somewhat stimulated. Plus, he's always loved watching you writhe and try to conceal your own desires. Not as much as Santi adores seeing you boldly demand he do obscenities to you. For you. To please you.

" You used to live here before, right? "

" Mhmm... " He hums smoothly.

" What made you want to leave Hell? "

Santi halts, gathering his thoughts, coming up with a decently abstract yet still valid answer.

" I wasn't happy with myself back then, love. I figured a change of scenery couldn't hurt. "

Half-truths, oh bittersweet as they are, he almost doesn't feel bad when you smile your blind acceptance.

" I'm glad you decided to leave. "

The monster's heart stirs in its confines.

" What, you wouldn't want to move in here? The heart of Lust? " Santi mocks.

" Fuck no- "

And he cackles.

You've entered mansion grounds.

This sly-eyed imp with pointed hair introduced himself as King Vesper's head imp, and has been escorting you two through the halls of the royal mansion so far.

If you had to describe the place, you'd call it deceptive.

Deceptively ornate. Suspiciously calm. Questioningly beautiful.

There's something amiss, is a better way to put the vibe of this location.

Varying shades of pink fade invitingly into purples and reds that seem to comfort and beckon. Many were the gold-swirled corners and turns that you peered into momentarily before returning to following the guide. The furniture and décor is just standardly royal enough to make you wonder if many of the set ups are meant to be as phallic and yonic as they seem. You could swear one of the walls had patterns carved into it that resembled the vulvas of countless individuals. A statue was poised just suggestively enough that it resembled malehood. Many are the paintings and figurines scattered across walls and vases depicting pairs and groups of lovers entangled in dirty yet passionate acts. Are the objects on the shelves meant to be sex toys or just peculiarly shaped abstract figurines?

When passing by what Lacai called the "Hall of His Majesty's Favorite Commissions", Santi covered your eyes occasionally. As far as you could tell, it appeared to be furnished with many differently styled depictions of Vesper's raunchy adventures with a plethora of his attractive playmates. You trust Santi's judgement that maybe some of them are too potent for the human eye.

Since the moment you set foot here, your grip on the dark incubus' hand has been iron-like, trying to siphon some of his calmness. Santi looks absolutely enamored with some of the design choices present, making you wonder if maybe he'll do some tweaking to your living space later.

" And we've arrived. " The imp, previously idly chatting with your lover, exclaims.

Two incredibly tall doors separate you three from whatever lies beyond. Infernal is engraved in them, statements you can't discern, stylized in a type of perfect, gentle cursive and accompanied by sculpted tendrils embracing the torsos of emerging demonoid figures sporting androgynous builds.

You can't help but get lost in the expressions of such visceral bliss captured in their faces. They appear to be molds, almost. Alive. Suffering the torments of eternal pleasures. Grotesque, beautiful. Maybe you really are Santi's match after all... Or maybe that's this sweet smell you've been drowning in for a while getting into your head.

" King Vesper will welcome you shortly, if you need anything, do scream my name. "

A wink, directed at both of you, and the head servant is gone, slinking back into the previous halls without a moment's notice.

Perhaps your gulp was a little too loud.

" Deep breaths, you know what's going to happen- " Santi pulls you into a big-titted hug, rubbing your goosebump-riddled skin. " No need to sweat about it. "

Much more easily said than done.

Chuckling and giggling is heard from the other end of the doors.

" There there, all set to rights, head on out honey. "

One of the massive doors parts forward, and a small hand struggles to find balance upon it. A grayish monster woman emerges, shaky, glazed eyes unaware of either of you. She tries to rearrange her fur and tuck loose tufts into her clumsily worn suit, but only succeeds in nearly wobbling to the floor. The stacks of paper and cases under her right arm tell you that this woman came here for some kind of diplomatic task, and probably didn't get much done...

Santi politely helps the lady step forward, unable to wipe away the only slightly mocking grin on his face.

" Do come again, I believe our business isn't quite complete! "

The same voice calls.

It's hard to describe it. Strong, potent, undeniably demanding of everyone's attention to a scary degree, but also loving, desperate, begging you to listen, to come closer. Velveteen reverence and the authority of someone who can take it away from you in the snap of a finger, a tempter, a lover, a challenger.

You don't need to think too hard to understand whose voice that is.

The poor woman mumbles some kind of exasperated farewell before she too disappears into the same halls Lacai had left through.

You recall a conversation about royal etiquette you had earlier with Santi. When the King of Lust accepts a request for a meeting, even if he's not being summoned, it's considered polite and common sense to also bring him something to eat. This meal could come in the form of a second person, or the requester themself. You suppose you know the choice the monster girl made.

" Next please! "

A shudder wracks its way down your body, but a firm warm hand on the small of your back prevents you from stepping back.

You're guided forward, into what appears to be a lavish lounge room, sharing the same inviting tonalities from before. Big couches and beds and tall mirrors with rails and steps spread across the room, even what you think is meant to be a pretty discreet altar in the middle, disguised as an artistic design choice. A neatly arranged table is set up next to a balcony, half obscured by darkened curtains. A great chaise lounge is clearly meant for your majesty, the other smaller two are meant for guests obviously.

The two of you stand politely at the entrance, waiting for acknowledgment, and the odor permeating this room is so intensely thick it feels like it's dripping into your skull, caressing every inch of you.

Alarmingly, your skin becomes feverish and you gasp for much needed air, feeling the peaks of your tits perk immediately, a rush of blood flying to your nethers. You feel the overwhelming urge to drop your already light clothes and throw yourself into one of the many soft cloths offered.

Santi too sniffs and rumbles at the atmosphere, no doubt incensed by the scent of what might have transpired only moments earlier. Although he's much more in control of himself than you, a gentle touch guiding you back into focusing on the present. You thumb at the bracelet he gave you, the one that presses into the inside of your wrist, dispensing a countering substance into the thin sheet of skin there.

Said substance is the only thing that's keeping you from crawling on the floor like a dog in heat.

A large, flowing tail swishes, and the two of you finally have the composure to glance right, met with the visage of King Vesper, naked as the day he was spat onto Hell, grabbing belongings from a fancy cabinet. When he turns around, your breath catches.

It's not entirely news to you. Santi described him to you, and Vesper has got to be the Icon of Hell who most desires to be seen by everyone, so you knew he was pink, voluptuous and fluffy in a few sections.

But seeing him in person is a whole other matter. It doesn't compare to any detailed descriptions.

Only Santi has managed to captivate you more intensely than the demonlord standing before you. It's... Well, if you had to try to put it into words, when you gaze into those big, predatory magenta eyes, it's like the shock of when you first glanced at Santi- But without the warmth in your chest.

No, this here is just warmth in your loins.

No soul in Heaven or Hell is stopping your eyes from dancing all over Vesper's body. From flowing tendrils to piercing pinks, heart-shaped nipples, golden chains, neatly-arranged fluff and thighs for days, a second mouth grinning at the two of you- There's so much to focus on, so much to ogle, that your sight nearly crosses for a moment.

He's a lot.

It's hard to steady your breathing.

Eventually, you notice those purpled claws are holding onto a spiral-shafted bottle and three miss wine glasses. You don't know what's inside the bottle, but it looks like a regular wine.

" Your Majesty- "

" Vesper, Santi. We've been over this. " The Icon frowns.

" Vesper. Long time no see. " Your incubus smiles, a slight wag of the tail behind him.

In contrast, the Icon's entire head tendril curls with happiness. " Oh say less! Much too long! And after this news, I would drag you here myself if you refused my invite. "

Santi nods with an expression that clearly shows he doesn't doubt the King one bit.

Suddenly, the ruler's gaze snaps to you, like a hawk spotting its lunch a mile away. He bends, much too close, invading, before grabbing smoothly onto your left hand. This close, you can smell the lush, almost floral scent coming from what must be that mane around his neck.

" And where have my manners fled- You must be this harlot's one and only match, the human I've so been aching to meet. " A thumb runs across your knuckles.

" Hhh- Hello- It's a pleasure, your majesty. "

Brilliant. Flawless. You definitely didn't choke up like a cat trying to cough up a hairball. Santi chuckles, introducing your name to the monarch, who licks his lips.

" You may recognize me as a King, but just as I said to Santi, tonight you know me not as a ruler, but a friend. A lover, even. " The last part swooned dreamily, planting facetious suggestions.

Then, he does something you should have seen coming. Should have remembered, actually, but even knowing what was about to transpire, no one could blame you for blanking.

Gleefully, the Icon reaches down across his own figure, hands drifting along his front to grope and paw at his fattened slit. It looks good enough to make you want to shove your whole face in there, and frankly that might be the intended effect. In mere practiced seconds, Vesper's cocks proudly slide out.

To say he's hung is an understatement, but he wouldn't be the King of Lust if he didn't sport a trial of willpower between his legs. Two of them, actually. Ringed and slick, with this restless tentacle poking and prodding between them, occasionally latching onto one of those lengths before switching to the other like its indecisive. You can appreciate the pigment of his cocks, which is a weird thing to say but true nonetheless. It makes you wonder how they'd look stained by the wetness of your puffed cunt.

More than gawk, you huff some kind of bewildered animal noise, hues flickering between the Lord's own and Santi's face. When Santi kneels, so do you, blinking as Vesper grows half-hard in a twitch or two.

The lump in your throat won't go down while you observe Santi lean forward and chastely kiss the tip of Vesper's right cock, before swirling his tongue around the head as best as he can and leaning back. He made that look like the most erotic thing you've ever seen, seemingly unbothered by the effect that view had on you when he expectantly beckons you to tend to the spare member.

Nowhere near as charming as a concubus, your small lips tremble when you close your eyes and lean in to imitate the act, cheeks aflame. This will be the first person you've put your lips upon after having started a relationship with Santi. You decide not to think too hard about it. A small peck is planted against Vesper's length, and the shudder that rocks your body afterwards has you exhaling hard through your nose. Although you glance at Santi for approval, he smiles and arches a brow as if to tell you that you're not quite done yet. The cock hovering in front of you flexes and you understand you're going to have to put some heart into it.

By the time you decide to try and swirl your small tongue around the King's tip, he's already beading in excitement, the view of a still somewhat timid human trying to appease him probably doing something for the demonlord.

It's messy. You have to turn your head and put more effort into it than Santi, ever practiced, did. Unfortunately, Vesper tastes almost as good as the other incubus next to you, so even if you're struggling, it's hard to let go. You could suck at him all day if it meant keeping that taste on your tongue.

Eventually, when you do pull away, a string of precum follows, snapping onto your chin and making you try to clean it away with your fingers. A bad idea, they're sticky now. Thankfully, Santi is there to lick them clean for you, winking to let you know you did a good job.

" I do so love making new acquaintances. " Vesper seems to ebb satisfaction. He doesn't bother with his exposed malehood and motions over to the chaise lounge area. " Please, both of you, sit. Talk with me. "

And you do. Of course you do. Your legs might eventually give out if you don't.

The King gracefully splays himself on his seat, uncorking the bottle with his index claw and placing the three differently sized glasses onto the table. You and Santi sit closely on one of the opposite chaises lounges.

" Can I get you lovebirds some temptation rouge? " He purrs, beginning to pour the drinks anyway.

Santi nods. " I'll have some. None for the lady, please. "

Vesper pauses his pouring, the alluring stream of purplish delight fading enough to allow you to focus.

He frowns. " Oh come now. "

The high-ranker doesn't budge. " Vesper, this isn't something humans should- "

" Mmm really? I recall you offering it quite generously. " The King taps idly at the shaft of the bottle, his tone petty.

The black-horned demon offers a look that begs Vesper not to push on the matter, which is apparently met with mercy.

" But I understand, you're in love, the world has a different hue. "

" Yes... You couldn't guess how distinct. "

Not quite deciphering the exchange the two fiends had, you choose to speak up when Vesper inches Santi's drink his way.

" I can have some. "

Santi shoots you a look. " No. No, that's silly- "

Santi's tense, sighing.

But a large paw has already been raised. " Hush! The lady has spoken, and who are we to deny her? "

" Surely, just one sip is alright. Besides, she's a virgin of Lust, let her enjoy some of my land's exquisite offerings. "

You watch the King pour half a glass for you. You're no virgin, how could you be with Santi by your side? Though saying that someone is a virgin in Lust generally means that it's their first time visiting the Ring.

You spot a muscle on Santi's arm twitch when you cautiously grab the miss wine cup. You know the contents within are likely a very potent aphrodisiac, perhaps a psychostimulant, something that'll make you trip balls essentially. After all, concubi don't drink or eat out of necessity, so this clearly has a use.

" Thank you. " Santi responds, a bit flatter.

Reclining on the seat, the Icon sips out of his glass, the mouth on his stomach licking its chops at the shared taste. A tail flicks, you note that he's been idly stimulated this entire time by the tendrils still squirming between his two dicks.

" So, tell me sweetheart, what do you think of my Ring so far? "

You hope he didn't catch you staring, but that face says it all.

" It's... " You have to think for a second, finding it difficult to articulate a plethora of mixed feelings.

" Freeing, in a strange kind of way. " You trace the rim of the glass. " It's still Hell, still scary, and I don't understand much of what I see out there... But I wish- " Your cheeks grow warmer. " I wish sometimes... That I could join. "

When you look back up, Vesper is grinning, this very amused glint in those magenta pools. " Mhmm, an honest response. I appreciate it. "

You smile politely in return.

Conversation unfurls easily afterwards as both demons partake of the rouge, their faces darken with time and they seem to sway the slightest amount, bodies restless. When you take your first sample of wine, the room is already thick with a scent you've grown to understand means hungry concubi are looming around.

Pungent. Thin but so sweet that it seeps into every pore in a wave of fruity warmth beckoning more and more of its sampler's attention. You'd have this for breakfast, for lunch and for dinner, quickly turning into some shameless alcoholic. It's of little surprise that all of Hell's confectionary is as addictive as it is to humans, that's how fiendkind tends to assert their power over other species. You suppose Lust, as the Ring of desire, has a particular ease creating concoctions of great addictive power.

Your idle reckoning is entirely derailed by the jolt of wetness from your loins, something you expected but couldn't calculate the intensity of, throat burning as you clumsily choke down the whore noise that wanted to flow forth. Maybe you drank too much at a time? How can those two have several glasses of this and look only mildly buzzed?!

Right on cue, Santi reaches to pluck the glass out of your hands. " Aaand that's enough for you. "

" Hah, oh the poor thing! You know that's properly aged, honey, try not to waste it. "

An embarrassing amount of time clearing your throat later, the King pipes up again.

" Ah, I've been meaning to ask, what is it like? " He waves a hand, his head tendril wraps around it fluidly, allowing the demonlord to toy with it.

" The sex? " Santi prods.

" No, the fighting- Of course I'm talking about the sex, you bumbling slut! "

The incubus straightens, eager to talk. " Oh, well- "

" Nuh-uh, quiet. " Vesper's tail nudges Santi into silence. " I know that part. Oh, sex with a perfect match is like pure ambrosia, it's the richest source of energy, a taste so delectable it fries you harder than the cocktail of an orgy of kissless virgins! You can never go back and you'll never have an experience half as pleasurable, it's the greatest gift a concubus can have but also the bane of their search for newer sensuous experiences because it causes obsessive infatuation- Etcetera etcetera... "

The Icon rises much faster than you'd guess his mass could ever allow him to, only to drop to a crawl, gaze piercing into you with an almost violating intensity. " No... " He murmurs sweetly, stopping to squat mere inches from your already overheated body, the chain anchored by his tits swaying hypnotically in front of you. " I want to hear it from you, darling. Regale me! "

Put on the spot like this, you don't actually know what about your perspective can be so appealing to the King, but his tone is authoritative, demanding. You must give an answer.

And so, you allow the hellish alcohol to speak for you, memory drawing upon the moments of your most intimate moments with Santi. The definition of his body, the noises he makes as he partakes of your form, the form you never gave much thought to yet the same one he reveres and coats in his drool. The whispers against your skin that you can never quite make out and the dance of claws on sensitive areas bordering between the sweetest caress and the plunge of a jealous lover.

" I- " You laugh breathlessly. " Well, I didn't know what sex was before I met Santi, real sex, real desire. There isn't a thing he does that I dislike, every time I lay with him, I only wish that it never ended, and I'm thankful he knows when to stop, because I might just tell him to keep going until I draw my last breath. "

You don't know where all of that came from.

The King's wolfish grin now turns shark-like, and he nods ever so fervently, egging you on. Santi has set his own glass down, blinking in bewilderment at your words, until a rumble bursts from his chest, and he seeks to hug you closer to himself.

" I know it sounds cheesy a- and dumb but I always want to try new things in bed with him because I've always felt so appreciated and- Santi makes me feel like I'll always look gorgeous no matter what I have on or what little accidents we have. I never knew sex could be so fun and feel so good... And I guess I only have him to thank for it. "

Santi doesn't say anything, just pulls you into a searing kiss full of tongue and approval. One you get lost in far too quickly, uncaring of your surroundings, or the demonlord ogling the two of you like steaks on a platter.

Maybe the King was looking for something a little more lewd and descriptive, but it seems the drink took you to a more emotional lane. Either way, what you said apparently resonates with the incubus in question, because he beams like a spotlight, eyes bright and smile so full of heated love it might just melt you.

It wasn't always like this. You remember the rocky start of this relationship. It could have turned into something ugly. It could have hurt you badly. Don't think about it.

" Oh- Oh, love does win! " Vesper dramatically rises, pretending to wipe a tear that isn't there. " So romantic, so heartfelt, I could just about write a whole drama from this alone. "

Eyes closed, getting a tongueful from your now overly-excited lover, you feel hands pawing at your body. His, you initially think, squirming playfully as they nudge your barely concealed breasts and squeeze at your tummy, palming at the swell of your ass possessively. Then, what you thought to be two hands become three, become different. It takes you a second of sloppily making out to finally open your eyes and check.

The Icon is now looming above you both, all glowing eyes and slobbering chops, cocks twitching for attention while he hastily reaches to place both hands on each of you. You're barely able to complain before your shorts are pushed aside with your thong and a large hand is palming at you insistently, met with the rush of wetness Santi's saliva has helped create. Speaking of, the high-ranker himself has already parted his legs to allow the King to tease his girth out of his slit, getting leisurely pumped. You watch each other get fondled for a moment, the shock fading into shameless acceptance and a burning need for more. Your cunt clenches around nothing.

" Mm, why'd you stop? Enjoy yourselves. "

The other grins, placing a finger under your chin and guiding you into another embrace. This one is slower, more measured, not just to savor the moment but to make a proper show for the sovereign of carnality. Santi works just well enough in tandem with the King's hand to draw out a wanton moan from you, eating it up with his own. Vesper apparently finds this very appealing, sighing his appreciation and rewarding the two of you with more attentive touches.

Your clit is flicked a certain way that forces your legs to jerk, and the situation is fixed when Santi readjusts to hold your leg slightly upwards, encouraging you to slide down a little. Just so, just so... Until Vesper has a finger in you, his index. Then two- His hands are large, larger than the average demon's, this is a stuffing on its own.

Whatever shred of composure you had left is gone, starting to keen and whimper as the demonlord immediately hammers onto the spot that usually has tears welling in your eyes. You don't know what kind of faces you're making, but they're probably not pretty in the wake of such intense stimulus. It feels as if your entire body is throbbing with sensation, the peak of it making your nethers pulse like an epicenter of delight.

Vaguely, you feel someone tug your top down so your tits can bounce free with every thrust upwards, turning to spot Santi rocking into the fist offered to him while he bites his lip to the debauched sight you make. You didn't think you'd be getting off to something like this, but seeing the desperation to use you in his eyes has you fuming in arousal, and likewise, he's loving your helplessly wanton exhibitionism.

" Ahh, she likes that. " The demonlord keenly observes. " Don't you, princess? Like the sight of your pretty incubus fucking my hand like a needy animal because he can't have you yet? Does it turn you on how lost he is in you? Do you think I should make him cum like this? You're both adorable, I'm loving this so much already! "

His depraved purring is the straw that breaks the camel's back, you can only roll your eyes and choke out some kind of plea for mercy before squeezing like a vise around Vesper's fingers and soaking him for all you've got, barely able to breathe in-between the thunderous pulsing of your orgasm. He rides you through it, nice and hard and milking the entirety of it for his own selfish gain, until you're spasming and gasping erratically.

Unfortunately, you missed Santi's own climax, finding him sagging against the seat in a state similar to yours, while the King whorishly sates himself with the mix of your released fluids, sucking and lapping at his hands for every hint of slick and humming pleasantly at the flavor you make together.

" Not bad... Not bad at all. Again, now, I can't wait to see your bond up close! "

You're a little bit confused when he plops himself back down on his massive lounge chair, then taps his thighs invitingly. Santi gets the idea however, tickling and nudging your clothes off you before settling on the monarch's lap.

Vesper hums, rearranging him so Santi's back is to his front, and then you are invited on. The resulting position has Vesper serving as a kind of living support with you seated atop Santi, giving the King a perfect view. Casually rumbling his glee, the King takes hold of your hips and steals any kind of autonomy from you by leading the pace, grinding you against the delectable ridges of Santi's hardness.

Laps are delivered to the side of Santi's face, and you know the mouth on the demonlord's stomach is also sampling around, tendrils closing in to shift between stimulating him and coiling luridly around your bodies like he just can't get enough.

One moment the two of you are locked in an desperate rut against the slow pace of regal hands, the next, you feel the sting of the demon's exquisite girth as you're swiftly impaled, the pain much too quickly blossoming into momentous relief.

It's a frenzy of movement you can hardly process. Maybe it's the effects of that drink, maybe it's just the cacophony of pheromones that being glued to a high-ranker and an Icon produces -You hardly doubt that bracelet is doing anything to protect your poor mind at this point- But you get well and truly lost in it. The world spins, only flashes of the experience register in your muddled brain, goosebumps, a swaying vision, waves of pleasure heightened to such a degree that you cease hearing anything but the muffled echoes of your lover's moans.

In that moment, there's nothing more to reality than the monster in front of you, looking as depraved as you, and leaning into it. Santi drools onto his own chest openly, pupils dilated, eyes relentlessly hypnotic as he swallows every twitch of your tormented form's muscles. No hint of higher thought lies in those acidic green hues, only the beastly impulse to have you, to reduce you to a spasming mess, to make you lose your mind and grow addicted to him.

Faintly, you can hear low whispers in a foreign, harsh tongue, and it never occurs to you that might be the source of your current trance. You don't know what it's doing to you or Santi, and you don't care.

You don't care about anything expect the constant pistoning driving you to a filthy paradise. If the Icon wasn't the one moving your legs, you'd be mush by now, point proven further when your top half simply flops onto the incubus' body, useless.

It must have been about an hour or more when the two of you are stopped, and no matter how gentle the winding down was, you still grunt and whine wordlessly in frustration, met with laughter from the two of them. Santi recovered faster, because of course he did. Looking down to where your bodies meet, you're disgraced with the sight of a sticky mess coating not just your mons and thighs, but plenty of Santi's lower half. It doesn't even reek of sex, you've gone nose blind at this point. It's almost terrifying, you have no idea how many times you orgasmed, or how many times he did for that matter, but the overwhelming evidence is clearly there, and your throat is quite sore. Whether from gasping, screaming or simply breathing through it, you don't know anymore.

Vesper says something to your partner in clear infernal, met with a reply you cannot hope to interpret either, and you're pulled forward to kiss the King, the three of you exchanging lips in a disheveled mess.

By the time you start giggling and breathing hard, Santi sighs.

" We... We should stop for now, no? " There's a mildly guilty look on his handsome features. Probably because you're going to be feeling this for a week.

The demonlord huffs. " Ugh- Fine fine, but only because you two were such a show, the imps flocked to the doors you know? I can feel them peeping. "

The darker demonoid snickers in amusement, reaching out to pet your face and try to ground you in reality, to no avail. You're eventually lifted to a stand, latching onto his arm for support and starting to somewhat ferally bite him in adoration.

Vesper follows suit, look too predatory to mean anything good, and both hands coiled around vastly neglected lengths. Making quick work of himself to the filthy view you and Santi make. He's the one who gulps now.

" I have been very patient however, the least my adorable guests could do is give me a lasting farewell. "

Santi looks like he's about to try to politely renegotiate.

" Pretty please? "

You clap and cackle in enthusiasm, entirely out of your gourd. More, more!

The incubus watches you jump in place, then turns to his old friend. " You have spare regeneration ointments, don't you? "

[kimberbohwrites]

If you all keep treating each other like this, you won’t need to worry about the BG3 fandom fading away over time — you won’t have a fandom left.

Some of you can be the most willfully cruel people. I have begun to weigh whether or not being on this app is the right choice for me, especially as I watch my friends and seemingly innocent bystanders get torn to shreds by the many bullies who seem to inhabit this space. (If you comment something mean to someone on anon YOU are a bully)

This is a website where we are obsessing over a video game. None of us are cooler than anyone else and if you feel that the amount of likes or followers you have makes you better, makes you qualified to lord over others — I REALLY hope you get the help you need because you are not going to be very successful in reality.

Next time you feel the urge to say something mean, just go ahead and keep it to yourself. It’s not that hard. People do not need to know (and I sure as hell do not care) about your every thought and opinion on others.

TLDR; fandoms are communities and if you don’t ACT like one (communication, patience, kindness, understanding) you will not HAVE one.

X

-The other Mama K

PS- I’m fine, don’t worry no one is coming for me (yet) this is a general post begging a little chill. mwah mwah mwah to the people who have already reached out.

[bump-inthe-night]

It makes sense that most of Vivziepop’s fans are teenagers because she writes and behaves like one. Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss feel like fanfics written by an edgy, horny teenager who believes excessive swearing and sex jokes are “peak” humor, and giving characters trauma alone makes them “complex.” All characters are shallow, lacking depth and development, and their relationships don’t feel genuine. 

The world-building is confusing, making no sense because Vivziepop fails to build on what she’s previously established or contradicts herself by changing information based on the plot. Hell isn't a place of eternal damnation; instead, it's like Earth except inhabited by demons. Regardless of how much Vivziepop claims her writing is "deep and complex," it’s blatantly obvious how immature and simplistic it is. Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are nothing more than animated playgrounds for her OCs instead of actual stories.

As for her behavior, Vivziepop acts like a spoiled, mean teenage girl. When she’s criticized, she throws tantrums on social media and calls her critics "homophobes,” who “misunderstand” her writing and treat criticism as personal attacks to draw sympathy from her fandom. She then sends her fans to harass critics because if you’re not showering her with compliments and praise, then she wants you silenced.

Vivziepop is an immature, soon-to-be 32-year-old woman who’s stuck in high school, and her writing and behavior perfectly reflect this. 

[merwgue]

The portrayal of the Night Court in the A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas is one of contrasts. On the surface, it appears to be a bastion of freedom, justice, and equality, particularly in the city of Velaris, which is often depicted as a utopia, protected from the horrors of the world. However, this glossy exterior hides the deeply autocratic, oppressive systems in place in other parts of the Night Court, particularly in Hewn City and Illyria. When compared to the other courts in Prythian—especially the Autumn Court—the Night Court’s supposed “freedom” becomes suspect. In reality, it operates much like a dictatorship, cloaked in the false narrative of equality and liberation. This deceptive governance is comparable to the division of Berlin during the Cold War, where the West thrived under democratic principles while the East suffered under a repressive regime. Likewise, while Velaris prospers, the other regions of the Night Court endure systematic abuse and oppression, with little transparency or accountability. Ironically, the Autumn Court, often painted as cruel and harsh, presents a more authentic and straightforward approach to governance. At least the Autumn Court doesn’t hide behind a façade of democracy—it is what it is, without pretenses of liberation.

The Night Court’s False Utopia: Velaris vs. Hewn City

Velaris, often called the "City of Starlight," is repeatedly emphasized as a sanctuary of freedom and safety, where creativity and culture flourish. Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, takes pride in shielding Velaris from external threats and from the corrupt politics of the other courts. On the surface, it seems like a dream: the inhabitants live freely, without the threat of violence or oppression, and they enjoy the benefits of Rhysand’s protective, yet benevolent rule. But, as with many dictatorships throughout history, the paradise of Velaris exists because of the sacrifices and subjugation of others.

Hewn City, often referred to as the Court of Nightmares, serves as the dark underbelly of the Night Court. While Velaris thrives, Hewn City languishes under a system of abuse, exploitation, and terror. The inhabitants of Hewn City are ruled through fear and cruelty, and women, in particular, suffer in this system. They have no rights or means to escape the oppressive confines of their city. Even Morrigan, one of Rhysand’s closest allies, admits that Hewn City is a "hell for women." The people there are not granted the same freedoms or protections as those in Velaris, and they are actively barred from entering the so-called “City of Starlight.” This two-tiered system, where one part of the court is free and the other is enslaved, mirrors totalitarian regimes in history, where a privileged elite enjoys all the benefits of the system, while the oppressed majority suffers in silence.

This segregation brings to mind the division of Berlin during the Cold War. West Berlin was the image of prosperity, freedom, and opportunity, much like Velaris. However, East Berlin, like Hewn City, was a place of oppression, suffering, and control. The illusion of unity within the Night Court, just as in Cold War Berlin, masks the reality of systemic oppression. Rhysand presents himself as a liberator, much like many leaders of totalitarian regimes do. However, his rule over the Night Court is based on a contradiction: he preaches freedom and equality, but only for those fortunate enough to live in Velaris. The rest of his court is controlled through fear, coercion, and subjugation.

Illyria: A Military Regime Under the Night Court

In addition to Hewn City, the treatment of the Illyrians further underscores the autocratic nature of the Night Court. The Illyrian warriors, though valued for their strength in battle, are treated as little more than tools for Rhysand’s military ambitions. Their entire culture is built around combat, and while Rhysand claims to want to reform the oppressive practices within Illyria—such as the clipping of female Illyrians’ wings—he does little to actually enforce change.

The female Illyrians, in particular, suffer grievously under this regime. Despite Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s claims of valuing equality, they have failed to stop the heinous practice of wing clipping, which leaves female Illyrians crippled and without agency. The Night Court’s inaction in the face of these abuses mirrors real-world dictatorships, where leaders proclaim lofty ideals of reform but do little to actually improve the lives of the oppressed. The Illyrians, much like the inhabitants of Hewn City, are kept in a state of subjugation, while Rhysand and his circle continue to thrive in Velaris, free from the consequences of their own policies.

Rhysand’s Autocratic Rule

While Rhysand is often praised by both characters in the series and fans for his progressive values and the freedom he offers to those in his inner circle, his governance bears all the hallmarks of a dictatorship. He wields absolute power over the Night Court, making unilateral decisions without any input from the people he rules. There are no democratic processes in place, no checks on his authority. Even the members of his Inner Circle, who seem to have a voice, ultimately serve at his pleasure. Rhysand’s rule is absolute, and any dissent within the Night Court is quickly quashed.

His treatment of Tamlin in A Court of Frost and Starlight and A Court of Silver Flames further demonstrates his authoritarian tendencies. Rhysand repeatedly invades the Spring Court, trespassing on Tamlin’s land and undermining his authority. In a real-world context, these actions would be seen as violations of sovereignty and could lead to serious diplomatic consequences. Furthermore, Rhysand’s psychological manipulation of Tamlin, particularly his cruel suggestion that Tamlin should kill himself, reveals the depth of his callousness. This is not the behavior of a benevolent ruler—it is the behavior of a dictator who will stop at nothing to maintain his power and control, even if it means destroying the mental well-being of a rival.

The Autumn Court: Brutal, but Honest

In contrast to the Night Court’s deceptive veneer of freedom, the Autumn Court, ruled by Beron, is presented as a brutal but straightforward regime. The Autumn Court does not pretend to be a land of equality or justice. Beron’s rule is harsh, and the court is rife with intrigue and betrayal. However, the Autumn Court does not hide behind false promises of liberation. Its inhabitants know what to expect, and the court’s politics, while cruel, are transparent.

In many ways, this brutal honesty makes the Autumn Court a more genuine form of governance than the Night Court. Beron does not pretend to be a benevolent ruler, nor does he claim to value freedom or equality. The Autumn Court is harsh, but it does not dress up its brutality in the guise of progressive ideals. In this sense, it is a more authentic regime, unencumbered by the hypocrisy that pervades the Night Court.

False Advertising and the Dangers of Illusion

The Night Court’s portrayal as a beacon of freedom is, in many ways, false advertising. By allowing Velaris to serve as the shining example of his court while neglecting the suffering in Hewn City and Illyria, Rhysand perpetuates a dangerous illusion. This illusion allows him to maintain his power without facing the consequences of his autocratic rule. It also obscures the real, systemic problems within his court, making it difficult for any real change to occur.

In the real world, dictatorships often rely on similar tactics. They present a false image of prosperity and freedom, while behind the scenes, they suppress dissent, abuse their citizens, and maintain power through fear and control. The Night Court, far from being the progressive utopia it claims to be, operates much like these regimes. Its leader, Rhysand, may present himself as a liberator, but in reality, his rule is just as oppressive as that of Beron or Tamlin—perhaps even more so, because it is hidden behind a façade of freedom.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the Night Court is not the utopia it pretends to be. Like the divided Berlin of the Cold War, it is a court of stark contrasts, where a privileged few enjoy freedom and prosperity while the majority suffer under oppressive regimes. Velaris may be a city of starlight, but Hewn City and Illyria are plunged into darkness. Rhysand’s rule is not one of liberation, but of control, and the supposed “freedom” of the Night Court is nothing more than a carefully constructed illusion. In contrast, the Autumn Court, while brutal, is at least honest about its nature. In the end, it is this honesty that makes the Autumn Court a more transparent—if not more just—regime than the Night Court.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

I have a yandere alastor idea for you... Could you do it? Imagine the reader being one of the unfortunate people who was killed by the alastor when he was human... Human! Alastor never felt these strong feelings for anyone, until the reader appeared in his life, the reader was a kind and caring person with everyone, always treating everyone the same... Now I imagine when Alastor discovered that these feelings were love for the reader, but the reader rejected him because he already loved other people... Maybe Alastor, in his desperate and psychotic environment, unintentionally killed the reader... (now currently) the reader became an angel and was chosen to help Charlie at the hotel (of course the reader doesn't know that Alastor is at the hotel and this happens after the battle)... Now what would happen?

Synopsis: You hadn’t expected to meet the person who brought you to your very end when you were assigned to Princess Morningstar’s new project. Maybe you should’ve declined. But who would you be if you said no to helping someone in need?

Warnings: mentions of murder, obsession, alastor is cray z, they/them pronouns for the reader

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

The Hazbin Hotel was unlike any place Y/n had ever encountered. As they walked through the grand, yet dilapidated entrance, a sense of purpose welled up within them. This was where they were needed, where they could make a difference. They had been chosen, after all, for their kindness, their ability to see the good in others, even in the most unlikely of places. Helping Charlie and her mission to rehabilitate the souls in Hell was an honor, and Y/n was determined to succeed.

The first few days went by smoothly. The residents were curious about the new angel in their midst, but most welcomed the change. Charlie was overjoyed to have another ally, someone who could bring light to the darkness she so desperately wanted to dispel. Y/n settled into their role, offering guidance, support, and a gentle presence to those who sought it.

It wasn’t long before Y/n noticed the whispers, the tales of a certain demon who had a particularly strong influence over the hotel and its inhabitants. The Radio Demon, they called him—Alastor. There was a sense of both fear and admiration in the way the others spoke of him, and it piqued Y/n’s curiosity. Who was this demon that commanded such respect and dread?

Their question was soon answered. Y/n was in the lobby, speaking with Charlie, when the doors swung open, and a figure stepped inside. The atmosphere shifted instantly, the room falling silent as if the very air was holding its breath. Y/n turned, their gaze falling upon the tall, smiling demon in a red pinstripe suit.

Alastor.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as their angelic senses were overwhelmed with a mix of familiar energy and something far darker. There was a strange, unnerving feeling gnawing at the edges of their mind, a sense of recognition that they couldn’t quite place. When Alastor’s crimson eyes locked with theirs, the world around them seemed to blur, and memories long buried came rushing back with a force that left them breathless.

The kind man they had once known—had once cared for—was now the demon standing before them.

Alastor’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments as he too felt the weight of the past crash down upon him. Y/n, the one person who had stirred something deep within him during his mortal life, was here, in Hell, and—an angel. His mind raced, trying to make sense of it all, trying to control the surge of emotions that threatened to shatter his carefully constructed facade.

“Ah, a new face!” Alastor’s voice was smooth, dripping with his usual charm, though there was an unmistakable tension beneath it. “And such a radiant one at that. Welcome to our humble abode.”

Y/n couldn’t speak. Their throat tightened as they struggled to reconcile the man they had known with the demon before them. The memories were vivid—Alastor’s intense eyes, his desperate confession of love, and the chilling moment when everything had gone wrong. They had rejected him, had tried to explain that their heart belonged to another, but Alastor had been unable to accept it. In his desperation, his madness, he had—

“Thank you,” Y/n finally managed to say, their voice trembling ever so slightly. They glanced at Charlie, who was watching them both with a curious expression, unaware of the storm brewing between them.

Alastor took a step closer, his smile widening as he tilted his head, studying them. “Have we met before? You seem… familiar.”

Y/n’s breath caught in their throat. Did he truly not remember? Or was this another one of his games, designed to unnerve them?

“I—” Y/n struggled to find their words, the memories of their death weighing heavily on their mind. “I don’t believe we’ve met in this life.”

Alastor’s eyes gleamed with something unreadable, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he turned to Charlie, his demeanor shifting back to his usual jovial self. “Charlie, my dear, I see our little project is expanding. How delightful!”

Charlie, still oblivious to the tension, beamed. “Yes! This is our new helper, and I think they’ll do wonders for our cause.”

Y/n tried to regain their composure, offering a polite smile as they nodded in agreement. But their thoughts were in turmoil, memories and emotions clashing with their angelic purpose. They needed time to think, to understand what this meant for them—for both of them.

As the days passed, Y/n tried to avoid Alastor as much as possible. They focused on their work, helping the residents, and assisting Charlie with her plans, but it was impossible to ignore the presence of the Radio Demon. He was everywhere—his voice echoing through the hotel, his influence seeping into every corner of the establishment. And every time they crossed paths, Y/n felt that same unease, the same pull of the past that threatened to consume them.

Eventually, they couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of their unresolved past with Alastor was too much to bear. They needed answers, closure—something to make sense of the chaos in their heart. And so, one evening, when the hotel was quiet and the other residents were occupied, Y/n sought out Alastor.

They found him in the hotel’s grand parlor, standing by the window and gazing out at the Hellish landscape beyond. He didn’t turn around when they entered, but his voice, smooth and laced with amusement, greeted them.

“I wondered when you’d come to see me,” he said, still not looking at them. “It was only a matter of time.”

Y/n’s hands clenched at their sides as they steeled themselves for the confrontation. “Why did you do it, Alastor?” Their voice was steady, but the pain behind the words was unmistakable. “Why did you kill me?”

For a moment, the room was deathly silent. Alastor’s smile faded as he finally turned to face them, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You already know the answer to that,” he replied quietly, his usual jovial tone absent. “I loved you.”

Y/n felt a pang in their chest, a mix of sorrow and anger. “You didn’t love me, Alastor. You wanted to possess me. You couldn’t handle the idea of me loving someone else, so you—” Their voice cracked, and they took a deep breath, trying to maintain their composure. “So you took my life.”

Alastor’s gaze remained fixed on them, but there was no trace of his usual smugness. Instead, there was something almost vulnerable in his expression, a rare glimpse of the man he once was. “I was desperate,” he admitted, his voice low. “Desperate and lost. I didn’t know how to handle what I felt, and in that moment, I… I lost control.”

Y/n looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. The memories of that night were too vivid, too painful. “You took everything from me, Alastor. My life, my future… everything.”

“I know.” There was a deep regret in his voice, one that was almost foreign coming from him. “I’ve thought about it every day since. And now… seeing you here, like this… It’s as if my past has come back to haunt me.”

They were silent for a moment, the weight of their shared history hanging heavily between them. Y/n’s heart ached with the memory of who Alastor used to be, the man who had once shown them kindness and affection. But that man was gone, replaced by the demon before them.

“I didn’t come here to forgive you,” Y/n finally said, their voice firm. “I came here to understand. I needed to know if you felt anything—any remorse for what you did.”

Alastor nodded slowly. “I do,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I know it changes nothing. I know that what I did to you is unforgivable.”

Y/n turned back to him, their expression softening. “Perhaps,” they said quietly. “But I’ve changed too. I’m an angel now, and I’m here to help souls, even those like you.” They paused, searching his eyes for any sign of the man they once knew. “I don’t know if you can be redeemed, Alastor. But I do know that holding on to the past—holding on to hatred—it won’t help either of us.”

Alastor’s eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. “And what would you have me do? Beg for your forgiveness? Seek redemption for a soul that’s already damned?”

Y/n shook their head. “No. I’m not asking you to change who you are. But I am asking you to let go of the past, just as I must. We’re both here, in Hell, and we have to live with what’s happened. But that doesn’t mean we have to let it control us.”

Alastor stared at them for a long moment, the conflict in his eyes clear. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said softly. “But know this, Y/n—I may have loved you once, but I am no longer the man you knew. I am the Radio Demon, and I have my own path to follow.”

Y/n nodded in understanding, a sense of closure washing over them. “And I have mine. But know this, Alastor—no matter what, I will continue to help those who need it. Even if that includes you.”

With that, Y/n turned and left the parlor, leaving Alastor alone with his thoughts. As they walked down the dimly lit corridors of the hotel