itza me, that hazbin writer

The makers of Kinktober 2025 are back again with a brand new list! The graphics are once again created by latte-cucumber. Check out our AO3 collection, or keep reading for more information.

More information

Kinktober is a kinky October prompt challenge that’s been running in one form or another since 2016. There are three prompts for each day in October, and the challenge is to use one (or more!) of the prompts to create something for that day. If you don’t want to use any of the three daily prompts, you can swap them out for the bonus prompts at the bottom of the prompt list.

If you have any questions, check our FAQs. Unfortunately, due to personal commitments, we won't be opening our askbox for questions this year. We've made it as rules-light as possible, though, so if your question is "Can I do this?", the answer is almost certainly yes!

Prompts

Condoms – Bratting – Watersports

Orgy – Embarrassment – Bestiality

Hate Sex – Suspension Bondage – Mind Control

Body Writing – Subspace – Master/Slave

Glory Hole – Cloning/Selfcest – Body Modification

Held Down – Riding Crops – Feeding/Stuffing

Dirty Talk – Cockwarming – Aphrodisiacs

Face Sitting – Switching – Scat

Orgasm Delay/Denial – Discipline – Whips

Gentle Sex – Chains – Noncon

Age Gap – Breathplay – Religion Kink

Phone Sex – Findom – Edgeplay

Frottage – Temperature Play – Emetophilia

Strength Kink – Roleplay – Vore

Corsets – Power Imbalance – Human Furniture

Nipple Play – Conditioning – Predator/Prey

Rough Sex – Begging – Furry

Deepthroating – Rope Bondage – Transformation

Public Sex – Daddy/Mommy Kink – Cigars/Cigarettes

One Night Stand – Pain Play – Snuff

Coregasm – Overstimulation – Predicament Bondage

Sharing – Boot Worship – Lactation

Vibrators – Caught In The Act – ABDL

Leather/Lace/Latex – Spreader Bar – Drugging

First Time – Non-Sexual BDSM – Knifeplay

Swallowing – Collars – Fuck Or Die

Spanking – Feminization/Masculinization – Inflation

Strap-On – Safewords – Torture

Quickie – Pet Play – Wet And Messy

Licking – Clamps – Oviposition

Fingering – Micro/Macro – Writer’s Choice

Bonus prompts:

Kink Discovery

Stripping

Coming In Pants

Omegaverse (Non-Traditional Dynamics)

Pornography

Sub/Dom Drop

You open the window, and snatch the flower from him. It’s stupid to accept this flower, stupid to soften your heart at the sight of his smile, when he left you. He doesn’t get to come back and pretend things have stayed the same.

“I was wondering where you went,” he says, before you could close the window on him. “It was quite a surprise to come home after seven long years, and find you missing! The house has turned dusty and miserable without anyone inside.”

. . . Funny.

You were wondering the same thing about him.

Alastor places his hands on the windowsill, ready to climb into your apartment.

You slam the window on his fingers, even if it shattered bones. “I didn’t say you could come in.”

“You’re still as beautifully cruel as ever, chérie.” Alastor’s smile widens, a look of absolute elation on his face. “Come home with me?”

You slide the curtains close.

Once again, you are left alone with nobody by your side. There’s a part of you that wants to throw the rose away. You place it into an empty vase instead.

Seven flowers.

Seven days.

Seven instances of Alastor pressing his face into the glass of your window. He never leaves until you’ve opened it to let him talk.

That is the only reason why you open the window tonight. At least, that’s the excuse you give yourself. Turns out, seven years isn’t long enough to move on from your ex-husband, not when you’ve been together for almost a hundred.

“The Hazhin Hotel was awfully dull without you,” he says, sitting cross legged on the fire escape. “It’s easy work to be the host of such a pathetic, little thing because there are no guests for me to host.”

You stay leaned against the wall, never really facing him. It’s easy to stay silent, never really responding to what he says. Alastor tells you the smallest details of his day anyway, telling you about everything except for the one thing you wanted to know.

Why?

Alastor’s ears flicker a bit when you lean out to glance at him. “I placed a whole new radio tower on the side of the hotel,” he says. “The princess was even generous enough to give me a room of my own. It wasn’t hard to drop a bayou. You would love it, chérie.”

Your words come out a little quiet. “Would I really?”

“No . . . Perhaps not,” Alastor says, a small but happy smile on him. “But you could always come home with me if you don’t like it.”

“Not today.”

Alastor’s ears shoot up. “But, one day?”

You close the window instead of responding. It’s difficult to keep looking at the small wobble on his smile, and much easier to close the curtain on him as well. He doesn’t get to make such a sad, sad expression, not when you couldn’t allow yourself to fix it.

That same ominous feeling is back, and right now, it prickles that back of your head.

The moment you turn, you see Alastor leaning on the windowsill, never fully going in. By now, he knows what would happen should he try to cross that line.

You sigh at him. “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.”

“Yet,” he says, voice a little too giddy, “you window was open.”

There’s a part of you that wants to shut the window on his face. That would certainly pull a fun expression on his face. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say. “The extermination is in a few hours.”

“Exactly,” he says. “Go home, chérie.”

“You’re saying that awfully early.”

Alastor stares at you. “Go home.”

It’s insulting to hear him say those words.

There’s this moment where you try to shut the window, but Alastor pushes against you, forcing the window to stay open. “I don’t have to go anywhere,” you say, a little soft. “Not when I’ve spent years going to that house without you. This is my home now.”

Alastor says your name in such a soft way, that you almost invite him inside. “It’s not safe here.”

“I’ve survived the last seven years without you.” You lean against the wall, if only to physically remove him from your line of sight. “And I’m not the one currently about to fight Heaven’s army. You shouldn’t be worrying about me.”

“Then, can you worry about me?” Alastor breaks the rule, and sticks his hand through the window to present you a rose. “Even if it’s just a little.”

You take the rose from him. “I’ll think about coming home if you come back to me without a scratch.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes.”

Alastor’s smile widens. “Then, I’ll come back to you without a scratch.”

That fucking liar.

Alastor hasn’t come for you in almost a month now.

Yet, even as the news parades him as Vox’s hostage, you keep your window open for him anyway.

There are a handful of flowers in Alastor’s hand, some look a little burnt and some look just as bruised as he does now. If you count the flower, you’re sure it’ll be the exact number of the days he’s missed. Looking at the messy bouquet, it dawns on you just how many days he missed.

Alastor presents the bouquet of mismatched flowers to you. “I hope you don’t mind,” he says, looking just as tired as he sounds. “It seems my regular florist got caught up in that stupid TV’s death ray—Ha! Ha! So, I simply improvised.”

You shut the curtains on him, and curl into the heavy cloth. There’s a stupidly happy smile on you, and that pride of yours will take a hit if you allow him to see it.

“Oh, dearest!” Alastor says. “Now now., we made a promise. I promised to come back to you without a scratch, and you promised to come home with me.”

You slide the curtains open. “I said I would think about coming home,” you say, frowning a little. “Good Heavens, Alastor. You look like you thrown into multiple buildings.”

“That’s because I was.”

“I saw the news,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You shouldn’t be here. Go . . . Go rest up, or get treated.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, wagging his fingers. “I promised to come back to you without a scratch, and I am currently scratch free. There was a little set-back to my plans, but I’ve taken care of it now.”

You tell yourself that it’s instinct to reach out for his face, cupping him into your hold. “You look tired,” you say. “I could have waited another day.”

“I couldn’t.” Alastor’s ears droop as he leans into your hand. “I don’t want you to wait any longer than you already have. I’ve already made you wait long enough.”

You swipe a thumb across his cheek. “There are rips on your suit, and some burn marks as well. You look like you’re about to pass out any second,” you say, laughing a little. “And you still stopped to pick me some flowers?”

“I did,” he says, a toothy grin on him “ . . . Will you come home with me?” A silence rises into the air, and Alastor sighs a little. “You won’t, will you?”

“I’m not ready to go back to that house just yet.”

Alastor takes a step back, a step away from you. “I understand, chérie.”

“Wait.” You grab his good arm. “Would . . . Would you like to come inside? Help me find a vase big enough for the bouquet.”

That sad, sad look disappears, replaced by a smile that could rival the Morningstar himself.