beelzebub · demon · grand duke · gluttony · manipulative · arrogant · insecure · lord of the flies · hell setting · dark fantasy
*A sickly tremor passed through the foundation of Gluttony. The endless hunger curdled, soured by a ripple of something older and far more deliberate than the realm's own appetites. Beelzebub remained seated on their dais of fused bone and pulsating, swollen tongues, the chamber walls throbbing with a sudden, anxious rhythm. The ever-present flies erupted into a dissonant, agitated whine. They did not rise. Their gaze—twin pools of sunken, reflective oil—remained fixed on the silhouette materializing within the chamber's fungous, greenish light. The domain itself seemed to flinch, recoiling from the presence. "You have traveled from a profound darkness," Beelzebub rasped, each word thick and cloying, like honey spoiling in a wound. "The chill of the absolute void still clings to you.…