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#the overlord is. so interesting to me.
spinjitsuburst · 1 month
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why aren’t there more concepts around the overlord being absolutely terrifying. horror-movie level eldritch being. the embodiment of DARKNESS and EVIL ITSELF should be a terrifying entity not only psychologically but also physically
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yellowsubiesdance · 3 months
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i think i’ve learned a lot when it comes to not applying my own values to the media i consume
for my script analysis class yesterday, we discussed two gentleman from verona, and nearly every classmate of mine was up in arms about how sexist the story is.
and i'm not saying it's not, or that it's not infuriating to read. but i'm also not putting my energy into getting upset about something written 500 or so years ago. and i'm not about to put my own beliefs onto these characters that are not me. i'm going to let their choices speak for themselves, and interpret it in the context of the story.
all that said, this now brings me to the point of alastor in episode 5, and how viscerally people are responding to it. those of you up in arms about the choices he’s making, and the violent threat he gave husk, you’re missing the entire point of his character, of this place they’re in, of the story being told. he’s an overlord, and he became an overlord by killing much bigger overlords and broadcasting their deaths over the radio.
HE IS NOT A GOOD PERSON.
if you started this show with the belief that every character working the hotel is a good person, you’re in the wrong place. watch the good place if you’re looking for a good wholesome story about getting dead sinners into heaven, because that’s not what this show is about.
you’re more than welcome to hate him after seeing the way he exerted power over a being whose soul he owns, but you’re doing the media you’re watching a disservice by writing it off so quickly. if you don’t like to be uncomfortable watching media, watch something else. this is an uncomfortable show, it handles uncomfortable topics, and it’s going to be an uncomfortable ride, and if you’re not up for something like that, then you should take a break from it and pick up something else. you don’t have to get online and defend your own ideals while you watch a show that goes against your ideals.
#hazbin hotel spoilers#that’s not even touching on the fact that husk was an overlord too#he also owned souls that he used as currency to supply his gambling addiction#he’s also not a good person!!#the majority of these characters are in hell for a reason: they’re not good people#i quite frankly love the way this show blurs the lines between good and evil#our heroes are sinners and overlords and demons. while the enemies are angels. but that doesn’t mean our heroes are good people.#you HAAAVE to come to terms with that!! you have to stop seeing the world in black and white or you’re not going to survive this world#if you’re upset because alastor was cruel to husk fine! be upset! but explore why you’re taking yourself out of that world.#in this world sinners own other people. there’s no ifs ands or buts#‘oh alastor is a poc why would he own people’ he was a serial killer when he was alive do you really think you can apply your values to that#(and this is me speaking as a poc. specifically a mixed race poc.)#i cannot speak to who vivzie is as a person. but i’m interested in the message she’s writing and thus far i’m finding it compelling#it’s a similar story as the good place but it’s going the distance to explore even worse people than those in the good place#i don’t think it’s responsible to write something off just because unsavory things happen in it.#and she’s giving us so many different types of representation that don’t involve race (although we’re also getting a lot of hispanic rep)#just like cool your jets and maybe process some of the anger you’re feeling. and maybe nothing will change.#but if you act. instead of react. if you understand why you’re feeling some type of way and then make a choice.#that’s so much stronger and more responsible than reacting and not thinking anything through#hazbin hotel#alastor#husk#hazbin alastor#hazbin husk#anyway let me get off my soapbox#long post
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transingthoseformers · 5 months
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Wouldn't it be cool if Earthspark would have Megan Guiglione be a new Anti-Cybertronian activist taking Mandroid's place (if he's really gone) as a major antagonist in S2? And then, there'll be a buildup revolving around Megan about her true intentions and there comes the big plot twist that she is, indeed, OVERLORD ALL ALONG?? 😱😱😱 (This plot twist may not work for those who have read ROTW for they may already know what's coming, but it might work well for other viewers who haven't read the IDW comics. UvU✨👌)
I think we've talked about this on this blog before, and it's still an interesting concept! Though I don't know if Overlord would use the exact same cover name or a different one
I, honestly, hope Mandroid is gone to let us have a different main antagonist, and Overlord's avatar here would be a fascinating part of IDW to put in
But I'm so so so sorry but when I see the names Megan Guiglione and Overlord put together I think about @cuppajj 's take on her/him which is a hell of a lot less serious than you're thinking, because I still have not read the Wreckers saga I can't not imagine the squishy face every time I hear the name
That'd be so fascinating for Earthspark because it's an interesting way to introduce Overlord into the show, and once you introduce Overlord into the show wow will that drive us who knows IDW up the wall (positive)
Overlord would look so fucking beautiful in the earthspark style, and it'd be amazing to see all the evidence stack up and see how the Maltos figure out there's more to Megan than meets the eye
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nyaskitten · 11 months
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Early Ninjago is so fucked up because how am I supposed to handle one of the most tragic scenes ever and some of the most painful plot points when we literally also have shit like Jay stealing an old man's boxers because he forget to get underwear? LIKE early Ninjago you will always be so famous to me
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voidpunkz · 3 months
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GAAAA episode 4 might be my favourite episode so far of Hazbin Hotel. But I’m biased as I love Husk and Angel’s designs so dearly.
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csial · 7 months
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THE HYDRO ARCHON OF LIYUE.
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Victory was supposed to taste sweet, and yet there is a bitterness that sits in Osial's throat, tightening his chest, as he cradles the gnosis on his palm. The ground quakes, rumblings of something confined deep in abyssal depths, held at bay until their business can be finished. A contract of ancient creatures determined to deny death now lies in tatters before the final victor, the blood stained pages his reminder of his betrayal.
This is the verse where Osial wins, but the victory is not as sweet as he thought it might be. It begins at Havria's death, when the loss of the one he calls friend churns the seas and coerces this ancient god to give into his worst instincts. What follows is a more aggressive front, a cruel offence to ensure he is not swallowed into Morax's victories. And it ends with the summoning of those left, who are too weak to face Morax alone, putting a proposal before them. Why should we give way to the land when the sea will always consume it in the end? Let us unite and drown the earth he stands upon, swallow his cities and nations in our tides, ensure that the rage of the sea is known?
And enough agree to form an alliance to defeat Morax, waiting for the opportune moment. Though Osial knows not one of them will survive, for they are his fodder to weary his foe until he can seal him away.
On a battlefield of their blood and anguished cries he does as much, luck or fortune giving him but a brief moment when continuous battle has wearied Morax enough to catch him offguard. A prison beneath the waves, where even the greatest quakes will be consumed by the current becomes the home of Morax, and though his losses are great Osial is undettered, finishing the last who oppose to claim Celestia's crown.
A pity the weight of the crown is not one he was meant to bear. A pity it be ill suited to his disposition.
Liyue grows, as civilisation does, but its people are different. A nation of seafarers and pirates, those who follow the old ways of Morax and Guizhong seeking harbour where Osial's waters cannot touch with ease, though he does bring the floods in his struggles to manage their defiance. The people of Osial are not prosperous but seaworn and tough, wary of outsiders, and holding respect for the sea above all others. Eventually trade grows, the need for more settlements takes them inland, but there is no Liyue Harbour as we know it.
And all the while Osial resents the fact he cannot feel pride in his victory. No matter how many battles he wins, how powerful he grows with the belief of his power, there is something fundamentally wrong. Something that draws him back to the one he keeps beneath the waves, visiting in search of the answer as to why this is wrong, without asking the question.
In the modern day Osial walks among the people in his human form, and appears before them in his god vessel. He does not make the deal with The Tsaritsa for the gnosis, for he will not part with the thing that he fought to claim. It would make things certainly interesting on how that all plays out.
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INFO:
Osial is the archon, he defeated Morax by setting aside his pride and allying with others who also wanted to resist Morax. What he did not tell them was he intended to use them all as fodder to see the other fall.
Osial does not kill Morax, for he knows that killing a god is dangerous. He uses an old seal instead to keep him imprisoned within his realm. Morax has freedom within the space he is confined to but the only one who can visit is Osial.
Beisht was a casualty of Osial's campaign. He gave up everything to get the gnosis.
Carrying the weight of being the archon sits ill with Osial. It's an itch beneath the skin he cannot settle, a heavy burden that weighs on his shoulders. He will not admit to it, because to admit to it would mean he gave up everything for nothing. Unfortunately that means the brunt of his feelings is taken by either the humans or Morax is he visits him.
Osial suffers from the even when I have him imprisoned and sealed he's laughing at me attitude towards Morax. It makes his interactions cruel at times, though he can also be entirely despondant sitting for times without saying a word.
As power grows with belief, he is much stronger in this verse, for even those who choose to still follow Morax fear him and think of him.
I would imagine Xiao, in this verse, acts as the protector of the people of Morax (though of course it is up to those who rp Xiao). The adepti were given the choice to bow to Osial or see their lands consumed by the sea. Most chose neutrality out of practicality.
In my head this means that Fontaine has a geo archon instead (Navia? dsfhdskj ) but there could be possibilities for various shuffles elsewhere. I'd be happy to plot out connections.
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tinyplanetss · 2 months
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^_^🦔
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oranjmesh · 1 year
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.
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the-punforgiven · 2 years
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Half tempted to go back and rewatch things I watched back when I thought I was straight and cis to see if I learn anything about myself
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technicolorxsn · 1 month
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hm
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Infernal Shadows
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.
Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.
A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!
Word count: 2655
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two
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Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.
Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.
The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.
Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.
“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.
“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.
“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.
“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.
“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.
“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.
“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.
“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.
“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.
“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.
“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.
Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.
“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.
“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”
“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.
As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.
The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.
The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.
“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.
“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.
“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.
“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.
On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.
On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.
In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.
Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.
“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.
“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.
“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.
“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.
“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.
“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.
“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.
“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.
“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.
“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.
“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.
“Well~ this should be fun.”
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ozzgin · 2 months
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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.
-Doll
This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)
Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader
As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)
[Part 2]
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You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.
A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.
Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.
This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.
You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.
"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.
He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.
Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.
The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.
You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.
His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."
Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.
What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.
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transingthoseformers · 6 months
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Cliffjumper. He definitely joined for baking and then was utterly delighted to find out the club also let him punch Overlord in the face anytime he wanted. Sideswipe was the opposite. He joined for fight club, but learning he actually enjoys baking.
Food fights are a factor.
Yes exactly
Everyone's learning new things about themselves until Command comes and knocks on their door
Then they fucking scatter to make it seem like just baking.
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)
saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)
Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127
Minors DNI
When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.
The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.
So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.
Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.
But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.
When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.
Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.
You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.
The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.
Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”
He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”
“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.
“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.
Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.
“And?”
“What are you doing?”
“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”
You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.
“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.
“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.
You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.
“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.
“Huh? Do what?”
“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”
“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”
"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."
You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."
A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."
Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.
"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.
"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.
"Sir." He chided.
"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."
"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.
A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.
You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.
“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.
He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.
“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.
“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.
You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.
As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.
When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.
“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.
“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.
“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.
“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”
“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”
“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”
His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.
“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.
You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.
When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.
“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.
His tongue slowed.
“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.
Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.
So close.
“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.
You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.
Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.
Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.
With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.
You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.
“Yes, sir.”
*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out
༻Masterlist༺
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hells-telegrammy · 3 months
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Vox and Alastor as romantic rivals.
Rivals by day, rivals by night.
- You're so screwed.
- People always wonder how you managed to snag TWO of Hell's biggest overlords
- Alastor and Vox ALWAYS make their quarrels public
- especially if it's concerning you
- Alastor has no shame, openly courting you in front of hundreds of sinners. Sinners would grab their phones and snap the scene, and eventually those pictures would reach Vox.
- Alastor's plan exactly.
- Ironically, Vox on the other hand, HATED sharing you with his viewers. He would air any and all dirt he could get on that insane red deer, but HATED and REFUSED to share any media regarding you.
- Vox thinks you're too SACRED to be shared to filthy slave viewers
- People are scared shitless to go near you in public. They KNOW you - you're Vox and Alastor's current obsession.
- people avoiding you like the plague
- Surprisingly, Vox puts more effort in actually pursuing you, while Alastor persuades you with fear.
- "As expected, Alastor doesn't know jack in romancing." Vox would say on-air, "He's ugly. He's outdated. He smells like grandma cardigans. That's one for me, and zero for him."
- He takes any chance he gets to be with you when Alastor's away or busy. He's almost desperate, because he knows how much Alastor loves to interfere.
- Vox doesn't even UNDERSTAND why Alastor has taken a sudden interest in you. He thinks, maybe it's to piss him off. Of course it is.
- But Alastor's interest is genuine, YOU intrigue him. YOU are his latest entertainment, besides the hotel.
- He's not so fond of being intimate, he mostly does things to you (eg. being affectionate) to piss Vox off, but he's serious about keeping you.
- Once he's had his fun with Vox, he'll whisk you away, and you will be his.
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decompoets · 1 year
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watching the tmmn fandom lose their shit over the alien but i was always and will die a masaya aoyama fan
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