Castor always knew he was different. He was adopted by Lucifer when he was just a baby but he would never tell him where he came from and who his real parents were but when Castor receives a message from his real parents who need help will he give up his current life in hell to save them?

You're a 3 foot puppet living in a wonderful puppet world. What tales will you write? Surely nothing will go wrong! [*Please note that this story is probably far from canon. If you'd like another type of story, please let me know! This is my second (technically first published) ever story on Wattpad, so I don't know what people like yet. ^^] NO. SMUT. (They're puppets!!! 😨) This story was written before we had a lot of details and whatnot. This story contains: -Romance (This is not a primarily romantic story, though. It's not really a char×reader, but idk it just depends on the ending you pick and how you interpret it) -Angst -Horror-ish Elements -Really Awesome Things -DEATH. There is death, so be warned! -Weird things??? Like a flower with eyes? Not sure how to label this. -Kind of fem y/n? I tried to do nb but failed a bit My autocorrect errors just add to the flavor <3. I cry when they're mentioned. Characters and general idea created by PartyCoffin. *This story will be stopped at any point in time if Clown expresses a concern about fanfics. 🫶

Red wakes up in a quiet, fog-drenched town with no past, no memories-only a name and an aching sense of emptiness. The townsfolk welcome them like nothing. No one asks where they came from, and no one offers answers either. As Red begins to settle into their new life, strange rituals, shifting relationships, the subtle cracks in reality begin to surface. The town seems peaceful, but under the surface lies a whole plethora of secrets and things meant to be forgotten. In a world where questions go unanswered and every heart beats on a slightly different rhythm, Red must learn who they are, where they came from, what this place is- even if the truth literally changes everything. Every soul has a purpose, after all, even if the said soul is washed clean and recycled.