Taglist: @kewwrites @mcueveryday @luna-kait @blueish-flower @berriblissful @chewifoxess @spectravondergeist8 @death-in-a-tar0t-card @lemonpuppet @radientd3ath @cantbecreative @knightinwonderland92 @machopeach
Warnings ⚠️: it's hell ? ... lecherous dudes, Canon typical violence, swearing, clowns, eventual smut, some canon typical religious overtones, alcohol consumption, lusty aesthetics, angst, feelings of despair.
Part 2 | Part 4
Hell-ish Heartbeats 💝💙💛 P.3
Following the server through the backstage corridors of Ozzie's felt like walking to your own execution.
Your legs were shaky, your heart was hammering, and every instinct you had was screaming at you to turn around and run. But run where? Back to the alley? Back to the dumpster? You were so far past the point of good decision-making that you might as well see this through.
The server led you down a hallway that got progressively more luxurious. The plain concrete walls gave way to wallpaper—deep blues, magenta's and golds with patterns that were almost hypnotic. The fluorescent lights were replaced by actual chandeliers, crystal ones that cast prismatic light across everything.
You passed doors with nameplates. "Storage." "Sound Booth." "Green Room." And then, at the end of the hall, a door that was notably larger than the others, made of dark wood with gold accents.
The nameplate read: "PRIVATE"
The server knocked—three quick raps—and a voice from inside called out, "Come in!"
She opened the door and gestured for you to enter. You hesitated on the threshold.
"It's alright," she said softly, kindly. "They don't bite. Well, not unless asked." She must have seen your face because she quickly added, "That was a joke. You'll be fine."
You took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The dressing room was massive—calling it a "room" seemed inadequate. It was more like a luxury apartment. Plush furniture, a full bar, a vanity area with lights that could probably be seen from space, and decorations that ranged from elegant to explicitly sexual.
But you barely noticed any of that.
Because sitting on the couch was the biggest person—being—demon?—you had ever seen in your life.
He was fucking enormous. Fifteen feet tall at least, maybe more, built with broad shoulders and a powerful frame that somehow managed to be both imposing and elegant. His skin was a deep purple that seemed to shimmer in the light, and he was draped casually across the couch in a way that suggested he was very comfortable with the space he took up.
But it was his face that made your breath catch.
He had a leonine quality to it, with a mane of feathers or fur—you couldn't quite tell—that flared out around his head. Nestled within that mane were two smaller faces—one a ram, one a bull—their expressions as if they were whispering secrets only he could hear. Two large, curved feathers ? antennae ? Things ? rose from his head, and his eyes...
His eyes and even his mouth were bright chartreuse with a warm, almost hypnotic quality. They were fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel like you were being x-rayed.
"Well, hello there," he said, and his voice was impossibly deep, resonating in your chest. "Come in, come in! Don't be shy!"
You couldn't move. Your feet were rooted to the floor.
Fizzarolli was there too, perched on the arm of the couch, looking tiny next to the giant blue demon. His jester hat bells jingled softly as he waved at you cheerfully. "Hey, cutie! Glad you could make it!"
"I—" Your voice came out as a squeak. You cleared your throat and tried again. "I don't—what—"
The giant demon's expression softened. "Oh, you're scared. That's fair. I am pretty intimidating, huh?" He didn't sound smug about it, just matter-of-fact. "Why don't you have a seat? You look like you're about to fall over."
He gestured to a chair opposite the couch—a safe distance away. You managed to make your legs work enough to stumble over and collapse into it.
"There we go. Better?" The demon leaned forward slightly, and even sitting down he was taller than you were standing. "I'm Asmodeus. But you can call me Ozzie. Everyone does."
"Oh my god," you whispered.
"Actually, we're demons, but I appreciate the sentiment!" Ozzie grinned at his own joke. "And you are...?"
You told him your name, somehow managing to get it out without stuttering too badly.
"Nice to meet you!" Fizz chimed in, bells jingling as he bounced slightly on the couch arm. "So, uh, got some questions. If that's cool with you? Nothing intense! Just, you know, curious about a few things."
"Like how you got into my club," Ozzie added, still smiling but with an edge to his voice. "We have a pretty strict couples-only policy. And according to security, you're not on any list and didn't come through the front door."
"I—" You swallowed hard. "I snuck in. Through a side door. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—I just—"
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Fizz hopped down from the couch arm and moved a bit closer, though he kept a respectful distance. "You're not in trouble. We're just curious. Why'd you sneak in?"
How did you even begin to explain?
"I... I didn't know where else to go," you said quietly. "I'm lost. Really, really lost. And everything out there is so... much. And this place seemed... I don't know. Dry? Safe? I wasn't thinking clearly."
"Lost how?" Ozzie asked, his tone gentler now. "Lost in Lust? Or lost-lost?"
"I don't even know where I am!" The words burst out of you, tinged with hysteria. "I don't know what this place is, I don't know how I got here, I don't know how to get home! I just—I fell. Twice. And now I'm here and everyone's a demon and there was a robot clown that tried to kill me and—"
You were spiraling. You could feel it happening but couldn't stop it.
"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Fizz's voice cut through your panic. "Robot clown? What robot clown?"
"At a theme park," you managed. "Loo Loo Land. He looked like—" You gestured at Fizz. "Like you. But all stiff and mechanical. And he said I wasn't supposed to be here and I was—"
"Ugh, a Robo Fizz." Fizz's expression darkened. "One of my Fizzy's threatened you?"
"Froggie," Ozzie said warningly, then turned back to you. "Okay. Let's start from the beginning. You said you fell. Fell from where?"
You told them everything.
About the bus stop. The rain. The puddle that wasn't a puddle. Falling through impossible space into Loo Loo Land. The robot clown and his threats. Falling again. The dumpster. All of it came spilling out in a disjointed, panicked rush.
Ozzie and Fizz listened without interrupting, though they exchanged several looks that you couldn't quite read.
When you finished, there was a moment of silence.
"So," Fizz said slowly. "You're a human."
"What else would I be—" You stopped. "Wait. Why did you—"
"Babe," Fizz looked at Ozzie. "She's human. Like, actual living human."
"I'm aware, Fizzy." Ozzie was studying you with an intensity that made you want to shrink into the chair. "The question is how a living human fell into Hell. That's not... that doesn't happen. There are rules. Procedures."
"I don't know!" Your voice cracked. "I don't know what happened! I just want to go home!"
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Ozzie's voice shifted, becoming softer, almost soothing. It was startling, coming from someone who looked so intimidating. "We're going to figure this out. But first, you need to breathe. Can you do that for me? Deep breath in."
You tried. It came out shaky but you managed it.
"Good. And out. There you go." He kept his voice steady, calm, almost hypnotic. "You're safe right now. Nobody here is going to hurt you. Fizz and I—" He paused. "Well, we won't let anything happen to you. Okay?"
There was something about his voice, about the genuine concern in his expression, that made you believe him. Your breathing started to slow, the panic receding slightly.
"Okay," you whispered.
Fizz had moved closer without you noticing, now sitting cross-legged on the floor at a comfortable distance. "So you really don't know anything about Hell? Like, nothing?"
You shook your head.
"Fuck." He looked at Ozzie again. "She's completely clueless."
"Fizz."
"What? I don't mean it as an insult! I mean she literally has no idea what she's stumbled into! This is—" He gestured expansively, bells chiming. "This is bad. Like really bad. A living human, alone, in the Lust Ring? Do you know what would happen if the wrong demons found out?"
You felt your face pale. "What... what would happen?"
Fizz opened his mouth, but Ozzie cut him off smoothly. "Nothing, because they're not going to find out. Which is why you're not staying alone."
Your head snapped up. "What?"
Ozzie and Fizz looked at each other, and something passed between them—a whole conversation in a single glance. Fizz's expression was worried but determined. Ozzie's was calculating but soft around the edges.
"She can't exactly wander around out there," Fizz said.
"No, she definitely cannot," Ozzie agreed.
"And we can't just... leave her?"
"Absolutely not."
"So..."
"So she stays with us."
They turned back to you in unison.
"Stay with you?" you repeated faintly, feeling your anxiety spike again. Stay with them? They were being nice now, but they were still demons. In a place they kept referring to as Lust. Where everything was about... about...
Your face felt hot.
"Just until we figure out what's going on," Ozzie said quickly, seeming to sense your nervousness. "We've got plenty of space. Guest rooms. Security. Everything you'd need to be safe while we work out how to... well, either get you home or at least get you sorted."
"We're not gonna let you sleep in a dumpster, cutie," Fizz added. "What kind of business partners would we be?"
"Business partners?" The words slipped out before you could stop them.
Fizz's expression flickered with something—embarrassment? His bells jingled as he shifted. "Yeah. Business partners. Ozzie owns the club, I perform here. Business. That's all."
Except the way Ozzie was looking at Fizz suggested "business" wasn't quite the right word. It was fond and exasperated and affectionate all at once.
"Right," Ozzie said, voice dripping with amusement. "Business partners. We've been 'business partners' for the last several years."
"We are!"
"Of course, baby." The pet name slipped out so naturally that Fizz didn't even seem to notice at first, but you did. And so did Ozzie, whose grin got wider. "Very professional business partners."
Fizz's face flushed slightly and his bells gave an indignant jingle. "Shut up."
Despite everything—the fear, the confusion, the complete insanity of your situation—you felt the corner of your mouth twitch. There was something almost... cute about watching them bicker. Even if the thought of staying with them made your stomach flip nervously.
But then the reality of what they were suggesting hit you again.
"Wait," you said. "Do you mean stay as in ? Like, here? In the club?"
"Oh, hell no," Fizz said immediately. "Could you imagine? The noise alone would drive you insane. Plus there's the whole... atmosphere thing. Not exactly human-friendly, if you catch my drift." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
You felt your face burn.
"Nah, we've got a place," Fizz continued. "Well, Ozzie's got a palace. I just... also live there. For business reasons."
"Very business-like living arrangements," Ozzie added, completely deadpan.
"It's practical!"
"Whatever you say, Froggie."
"When you say 'a palace'..." you started hesitantly.
"The palace," Ozzie said casually, like it was no big deal. "It's connected to my factory. Easier for business operations."
"The... palace."
"Yeah."
"You have a palace."
"I'm the King of Lust," Ozzie said, as if this explained everything. "It's kind of required. Don't worry, it's not as pretentious as it sounds. We've made it comfortable."
Your brain was struggling to process this. A palace. They wanted you to stay in a palace. With them. The demon prince of Lust and his "business partner." In the Lust Ring.
"I can't stay in a palace," you said, voice rising slightly. "That's—that's insane. I can't just—"
"You got a better option?" Fizz asked, not unkindly. "Because from where I'm sitting, your choices are: stay with us where it's safe, or go back out into the Lust Ring where literally any demon could—" He paused, seemed to reconsider his words. "Let's just say the Lust Ring isn't exactly friendly to lost humans who don't know the rules. Especially not cute little things like you who probably blush at the word 'sex.'"
You did, in fact, blush at the word.
Fizz's grin widened. "Yeah, exactly my point. You wouldn't last five minutes out there without someone trying to... well." He made a vague gesture that somehow managed to be both explanatory and completely inappropriate.
"Fizz," Ozzie said warningly.
"What? I'm being honest! She needs to understand what she's dealing with here!"
"But I can't just impose on you like that—" you tried again.
"You're not imposing," Ozzie interrupted gently. "Look, we've got the space. We've got the security. And honestly?" He glanced at Fizz with an expression that was surprisingly soft. "We both feel better knowing you're somewhere safe rather than trying to figure this out alone."
"We've got guest rooms," Fizz added enthusiastically, his bells chiming with his excitement. "Plural! Like, six of them! Most of them don't even get used except when the quieves decide that's their new favorite sleeping spot!"
"The... what?"
"Our dogs," Ozzie explained. "Well, they're not exactly dogs, but close enough. You'll meet them. They're... enthusiastic."
You sat there, trying to process everything. Two demons—one of them the literal King of Lust—were offering to let you stay in a palace because you'd accidentally fallen into their dimension. And you were supposed to just... accept this? Stay with them? In the Lust Ring, where everything was about...
Your face was definitely still burning.
"I..." You didn't know what to say. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to be in the way, and I don't really understand what... what this place is about, and—" You were rambling now, nervous energy making the words spill out. "—and you keep making jokes I don't really get, and I'm probably going to be really awkward and—"
"Hey." Fizz's voice was surprisingly gentle. "You're not gonna be in the way. Yeah, we make jokes. Yeah, we're in the Lust Ring and that comes with a certain... vibe." His bells jingled as he tilted his head. "But we've got a whole separate guest wing. Private. Away from any of the stuff that's making you nervous. Promise."
"I..." You tried to find a reason to say no, but came up empty. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Ozzie said firmly. "Besides, I'm curious. A human falling into Hell is unprecedented. I want to figure out how it happened. And you—" He gestured at you. "—you need somewhere safe. It's mutually beneficial."
"Plus you look like you're about to pass out," Fizz noted. "When's the last time you ate?"
You tried to remember. Breakfast? Had you even had breakfast? The bus, the fall, Loo Loo Land, another fall, the dumpster, sneaking into Ozzie's... it all blurred together.
"I don't... know."
"Right, that settles it." Fizz hopped to his feet, bells jingling merrily. "We're taking you home, feeding you, and getting you into an actual bed. Everything else can wait until tomorrow."
"But—"
"No buts!" Fizz was already moving toward the door. "Well, except ours, obviously. And yours, though I'm sure it's cute too—"
"FIZZ."
"What? I'm being complimentary!" But he was grinning, completely unrepentant.
Your face was on fire. You were pretty sure you were going to die of embarrassment before anything else could get you.
Ozzie stood up, and the sheer size of him made you shrink back instinctively. But his expression was kind as he offered you his hand.
Except his hand was enormous. Like, the palm alone was bigger than your entire torso. There was no way you could hold his hand like a normal person.
"Come on," he said softly. "Let's get you somewhere comfortable."
You stared at his hand for a long moment, then carefully, hesitantly, wrapped your fingers around his pinky instead. It was the only part small enough to hold onto.
Ozzie's expression softened even further, something almost protective flickering across his features. "Alright then. Let's go."
The "palace" was accessed through a private entrance at the back of Ozzie's. You followed Fizz and Ozzie through a door marked "PRIVATE - NO ENTRY" and into a corridor that was significantly more subdued than the rest of the club.
Well, "followed" was generous. You were still holding onto Ozzie's thumb like a lifeline, while Fizz chattered animately on your other side, Ozzie was being very careful to match his pace to yours.
"So this connects to a factory?" you asked, trying to make conversation to distract from both the surreal nature of everything and your hyperawareness of how close you were to the literal demon of Lust.
"Yep!" Fizz was practically bouncing as he walked ahead of you, his bells creating a cheerful soundtrack. "Ozzie manufactures all kinds of stuff—toys, accessories, whatnot—and having the palace connected means he can check on operations easily. Plus it's convenient for me since I do promotional work for the brand and—"
"Fizz," Ozzie interrupted gently. "Maybe save the company overview for when she's not dead on her feet?"
"Right, right. Sorry! I get excited about the logistics!" His bells jingled as he spun around to walk backwards, facing you. "But seriously, the factory is super cool. We make all sorts of things! Some of them are even appropriate for polite company!" He grinned wickedly. "Most aren't though. Most are very, very not appropriate."
You felt your face heat up again.
"Stop teasing her, Fizzy," Ozzie said, but he sounded amused.
"I'm not teasing! I'm being informative! She should know what we do here!"
"She knows enough to be blushing like that, which means you can dial it back."
"But she's so cute when she blushes!"
"Your a maniac."
"Okay, okay! I'll behave! Mostly!"
The corridor opened up into what looked like a private elevator. Ozzie pressed the button with his free hand—the one you weren't clinging to—and the doors slid open with a soft ding.
Inside, the elevator was all mirrors and gold accents. You caught sight of yourself and winced—you looked exactly as bad as you felt. Hair a mess, clothes rumpled and stained, garbage still clinging to parts of your outfit, eyes red and puffy from crying.
And there, beside you in the reflection, Ozzie absolutely towered over you. You barely came up to his knee. The size difference was comical.
"We'll get you cleaned up," Ozzie said, noticing your expression. "Don't worry."
The elevator rose smoothly, though you couldn't tell how many floors. When the doors opened, you stepped out into...
"Holy shit," you breathed.
The entrance hall was massive. Marble floors polished to a mirror shine. Vaulted ceilings with chandeliers that looked like they cost more than your entire apartment building. Art on the walls—some of it beautiful, some of it explicit enough to make your eyes widen and your gaze dart away quickly.
"Welcome to Casa de Asmodeus!" Fizz announced, spreading his arms wider then should be possible, bells ringing with the gesture. "Or as I call it, 'Ozzie's place where I also happen to live for totally business-related reasons.'"
"It's our home, Fizzy," Ozzie said with fond exasperation. "You can just say it's our home."
"Business home."
"You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Wait, did you just—" Fizz's bells jingled as he whirled around. "Did you just admit you love me? In front of company."
"I said I love your ridiculous behavior. Different thing."
"That's basically the same thing!"
"If you say so, baby."
There it was again—another pet name slipping out so casually. And this time Fizz definitely noticed, his face flushing.
"Shut up," he muttered, but he was smiling.
You watched them still feeling nervous and out of place but also... they were kind of adorable together, actually. In a weird, demonic way. Even if every other word out of Fizz's mouth seemed designed to make you blush.
"Come on," Fizz said, suddenly grabbing your free hand—the one not holding Ozzie's thumb—and tugging you forward. His grip was warm and his bells chimed with his enthusiasm. "Let me show you around! So this is the entrance hall, obviously. Through there is the main living area—huge fucking couch, TV that's definitely too big, Ozzie refuses to admit it's too big but it is—"
"It's appropriately sized," Ozzie interjected.
"It's the size of a billboard, babe."
Another pet name. They were just flowing out now.
"ANYWAY," Fizz continued, pulling you along. "The kitchen's through there, the dining room we never use is over there, there's a pool on the terrace—heated, obviously, perfect temperature for late night skinny dipping—"
"Fizz."
"What? I'm describing the amenities!"
You were definitely blushing again.
"—gym downstairs, entertainment room with a sound system that'll blow your mind, though usually we use other things when we wanna blow—"
"FIZZY."
"I was gonna say 'blow your expectations'! Get your mind out of the gutter, Oz!" But his grin was absolutely wicked, and he snickered with barely suppressed laughter.
Ozzie sighed deeply. "I apologize in advance for him. He's like this all the time."
"Hey, she should know what she's getting into!"
"She's getting into a guest room, Froggy A nice, safe, appropriate guest room."
"Well yeah, but the palace itself is still—you know." Fizz made another one of his vague but somehow completely explanatory gestures.
You were starting to understand why this was called the Lust Ring.
"Right! Guest room!" Fizz said suddenly, as if just remembering. "Let me show you! It's gonna blow your—" He caught Ozzie's look. "—expectations. It's gonna blow your expectations."
"Nice save," Ozzie muttered.
"What can I say I'm a professional!"
Fizz dragged you up a grand staircase—you'd had to let go of Ozzie's thumb for this part, much to your nervousness—with Ozzie following behind at a more measured pace. The bells on Fizz's hat created a musical accompaniment to the climb.
"So we've got like six guest rooms," Fizz was explaining, holding your hand as he pulled you down a hallway. "But I'm thinking the blue one for you. It's got the best view and it's the furthest from our room which means you won't have to hear any—"
He glanced at Ozzie, his face flushing.
"—conversations! I was gonna say loud conversations!"
"You absolutely were not."
"Prove it!"
Despite how out of place you felt, despite everything, you felt a small laugh bubble up. It was barely more than a huff of air, but it was genuine.
Both of them stopped immediately and looked at you.
"Oh!" Fizz's entire face lit up, bells jingling with delight. "Was that a laugh? That was a laugh! Ozzie, I made her laugh!"
"Yes, you're very funny," Ozzie said dryly, but he was smiling too. "Now can we please show her the room before she passes out from exhaustion?"
"Right, right!" Fizz opened a door with a flourish. "Ta-da! Your temporary home away from... wherever you're from!"
The room was incredible.
•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•
It was huge—bigger than your entire apartment back home. The walls were painted a soft blue that was actually soothing after all the neon of the Lust Ring. A massive bed dominated one side of the room, piled with pillows and covered in blankets that looked impossibly soft. There were windows with actual curtains, a sitting area with plush chairs, and a door that led to what Fizz proudly announced was "THE bathroom."
The bathroom was the size of your bedroom back home. Marble everywhere, a shower that could fit like four people, a tub that was practically a small pool, and more towels than any one person could possibly need.
"So this is you!" Fizz announced, bouncing on his heels, bells chiming. "Everything you need should be in here. Towels, toiletries, there's robes in the closet, and if you need clothes I can grab some of—actually, you're probably not gonna fit in my stuff. Or Ozzie's. His stuff would be like wearing a tent on you. We'll figure out the clothes thing tomorrow."
"Multiple tents," Ozzie added. "Possibly a circus tent."
"For now, there's pajamas and stuff in the dresser that should work," Fizz continued. "We keep the guest rooms stocked. Though some of the rooms have more... specialized items? But not this one! This one's totally normal! Completely innocent! Well, as innocent as anything gets around here—"
"Fizz, you're rambling," Ozzie said gently.
"Right! Sorry!" His bells jingled as he shook his head. "Point is, you've got everything you need. And we're just down the hall if you need anything. Though maybe knock first. Definitely knock first. Especially if it's after like 10 PM because that's when we usually—"
"FIZZ."
"—watch TV! We watch TV!"
You couldn't help it. Despite your nervousness, despite how your face was burning, despite everything, you laughed again. A real laugh this time, shaky but genuine.
Fizz's expression softened into something warm and genuine. "There we go. That's better. We're gonna take care of you, cutie. Promise."
"Now," Ozzie said, his deep voice gentle. "About food. What would you like? And please don't say 'nothing' because you need to eat."
"I... I don't know what you have—"
"EVERYTHING!" Fizz interrupted enthusiastically. "Seriously, name a food. Any food. Ozzie's got it or can have it delivered in like ten minutes. He stress-shops for groceries."
"I do not stress-shop—"
"You bought seventeen different types of cheese last week."
"That's called being prepared."
"For what, a cheese emergency?"
"You never know when you'll need cheese, Froggie."
"See?" Fizz looked at you, grinning. "Stress-shopping. But it works in your favor! So what do you want? Sandwich? Pizza? Pasta? Soup? We've got one of those instant ramen things—the fancy kind, not the broke college student kind. Though we also have those if you want authenticity. Or we could make you a full meal! Big Oz is actually a pretty good cook, which is sexy as fuck—"
Your face was on fire again.
"—because cooking is a universally attractive skill!" Fizz finished smoothly. "That's what I meant!"
"Sure you did," Ozzie said, but he was smiling. "How about I make you a selection? That way you can choose what appeals to you."
"A sandwich would be fine," you said softly, feeling overwhelmed but in a different way now. "Any kind is fine."
"Sandwish it is," Ozzie decided. "Fizz, why don't you let her get cleaned up? I'll bring food up in about twenty minutes."
"On it!" Fizz's jingled as he headed for the door. "Get yourself all cleaned up. There's like eight different types of fancy soap in there. Some of them smell amazing. Some of them smell like they're supposed to be for after you—" He caught Ozzie's look. "—after you exercise! For muscle relaxation! That's definitely what they're for!"
He gave you a little wave and bounced out of the room.
Ozzie paused at the door, having to duck significantly to fit through it. "If you need anything, anything at all, just call out. We'll hear you."
"Thank you," you said quietly. "Really. Both of you. For... for helping me."
His expression softened into something almost protective. "Get some rest, little one. We'll figure this out tomorrow."
And then he was gone, closing the door gently behind him.
•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•
You stood there in the middle of the luxurious guest room in a palace in Hell, owned by a demon prince and his "business partner," and felt the weight of the day finally crash down on you.
But for the first time since falling through that puddle, you felt something other than terror.
You felt... maybe, possibly, cautiously... safe.