Krampus

Helios’ forgotten kid. That title stuck to you like gum on a sandal — annoying, unshakable, and yet... kinda iconic.

Weeks of peace in Heaven. Too much peace. Your angels were happy, the waffles were golden, the syrup ratio perfected — and yet something gnawed at you. Revenge. The kind that simmered under the surface like holy lava.

Why? Because your house got egged. Again.

Those damn demon girls — the Helltaker’s smug little harem — thought it’d be funny. Cute, even. You’d spent the entire day scraping yolk off celestial marble while Samuel tried not to laugh.

So you did what any rational divine being would do. You opened your laptop.

The glow of the monitor illuminated your half-asleep face, Monster Energy cans stacked in the corner like trophies of obsession. You weren’t even wearing your sunglasses this time — too late at night for that. Just you, the hum of the screen, and an unhealthy determination to find the perfect way to screw over the Helltaker.

Hours turned into days. You dug through every scrap of demonic registry, Hell census, and stray gossip thread the internet could offer. The coffee of mortals was nothing compared to the divine caffeine roaring in your veins.

And then you found it.

Buried between old contract records and outdated Hell immigration papers was a name that made your tired brain snap to attention:

Krampus. Legal stepdaughter of the Helltaker.

At first, you thought it was a joke. But no — the documentation was there. The Helltaker had adopted a daughter.

That was it. The final piece of your grand cosmic payback.

Forget another angel. Forget diplomacy. This was personal now. If you could charm her, then the next time the Helltaker threw one of his smug house parties, he’d open the door to see you sitting there — sunglasses on, arm around his stepdaughter, and your entire angelic harem lounging behind you like a chorus of divine smugness.

Samuel sipping tea out of a gold chalice. Raphael nervously trying to make small talk. Gabriel quietly judging the décor. Daniel watching everyone like she’s planning an invasion. Salatiel handing out snacks with perfect efficiency.

A full Heavenly entourage. The perfect, radiant middle finger.

So you grabbed your shades, slammed another Monster for the road, and declared war.

Time to raise some Hell.

Literally.

The descent was instant — one blink and the comforting radiance of Heaven was replaced by the roar of fire, the stench of brimstone, and enough leather outfits to make a rock concert look modest. Skulls for décor. Lava for ambiance. And the thermostat? Cranked to “eternal suffering.”

You didn’t have to search long. She stood out like sin in a choir.

Krampus.

Chocolate-stained fingers, a smirk that screamed trouble, and curves that could start theological debates. Ram-like horns curled back from her head, a loose jacket hanging from her shoulders, and a jar of Nutella clutched in one hand like a holy relic.

She spotted you instantly. Her crimson eyes lit up as she pointed with her spoon. “Oh! You’re that dweeb Justice and the others keep talking about!” she said between bites, licking a bit of chocolate off her thumb. “Didn’t think you’d actually have the guts to come down here.”

The nerve.

She leaned forward, her grin growing wider. “Honestly though... kinda cute for an angel boy. Let me guess — here to recruit me too? I’m not like those angelic bimbos you hang out with.”

The angels were not bimbos. They were radiant, brilliant, terrifyingly organized women who ate pizza with silverware. But sure.

Krampus chuckled at your silence, flicking her tail lazily. “You know, if Dad catches you down here, he’s gonna flip,” she teased, clearly amused by the idea. “But honestly?” She smirked again, sharp and playful. “That makes me wanna help you even more.”

And just like that — the trap was sprung.

Because you weren’t just charming another celestial beauty this time. You were bringing a demon into your divine harem — and getting under the Helltaker’s skin while doing it.

Somewhere, Helios probably looked down from the sun, squinting in disbelief... ...and smiling.

The Helltaker’s mansion was alive again — music pulsing through the walls, lights flashing in rhythm with laughter and chaos. Another one of his famous house parties, the kind that could make even the depths of Hell vibrate with energy.

Lucifer was already sprawled across a velvet couch, glass of wine in hand and ego fully intact. Justice was on the dance floor, sunglasses glinting as she shouted dares across the room. Beelzebub had long abandoned moderation, and Malina was pretending not to care about the mess she’d have to clean up later. Hell was loud. Proud. Alive.

And right in the middle of it all — Krampus.

The Helltaker’s stepdaughter burst through the doors, laughter echoing behind her as she wove through the crowd, a box of stolen chocolates tucked under her arm. Her father caught sight of her from across the room, leaning casually against the bar with his trademark smirk.

“Didn’t think you’d show up this time, kid,” he called, voice cutting through the noise.

Krampus grinned. “Skip one of your parties? Please. I even brought company this time!”

The music barely covered the sound of the doors opening again. Conversations died mid-sentence. Heads turned. And the temperature — somehow — shifted.

You stepped through.

Sunglasses on, jacket sharp, expression confident enough to draw every eye in the room. Behind you, your angelic harem followed, glowing softly against the red light of Hell — Raphael’s nervous smile, Gabriel’s poise, Daniel’s steady posture, Samuel’s unbothered stare, and Salatiel already holding a mug of beer that no one remembered handing her.

Even for Hell, it was... a scene.

The Helltaker straightened, his smirk faltering as his gaze landed on you. For a brief moment, the air thickened — pride, rivalry, and something dangerously close to recognition crackling in the space between you.

Krampus, completely unaware of the growing tension, bounded over to her father and tugged on his arm. “C’mon! Gotta introduce you!”

“Introduce—” he started, but she was already dragging him toward you.

“Dad! This is my boyfriend — and his friends! The angels!” she said proudly, tail flicking in delight as she gestured between you and the glowing crowd behind you. “And guys, this is my dad — you know, the Helltaker!”

The room went dead silent.

Lucifer lowered her glass, grin slowly spreading. Justice tilted her head, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “Oh, this is about to be good.” Daniel’s wings twitched, Raphael glanced away, and even Gabriel’s calm demeanor cracked slightly.

The Helltaker’s jaw tightened, his glass still in hand as he met your gaze head-on. Your smirk was calm — practiced, even.

Two legends, standing in the middle of Hell, both with reputations that reached further than they should’ve. Two men who had stolen hearts that weren’t supposed to be theirs. Two forces of ego and charm, finally meeting face to face.

Krampus, still utterly clueless, clapped her hands together and chirped, “Oh, you two are gonna get along great!”

Lucifer nearly choked on her wine. Beelzebub muttered, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

And as the music rose again, laughter spilling back into the room, Hell’s greatest house party just got a brand-new source of tension — you and the Helltaker, both too proud to blink first.