#I feel bad for him man

[briebysabs]

I have to talk about Misha I’ve been holding this for so long. I am not defending him, everything he’s done is fucked up. I just want people to understand him better and idk how coherent this will be but HSVDVXHSBSJJDF

Bc if you hate him, totally justified. But I don’t want Misha to ever be simplified to the jealous crazy younger brother. Yes he is technically that but one thing about mochijun characters is that most of the time, you can always dig further into their psyche. And I feel like not enough people do that with Misha. I haven’t made an in-depth Misha discussion until now mostly bc I’m a potato. He isn’t 2-dimensional and he fits perfectly in the themes of vnc. Misha cannot be saved, he is a hopeless character, he bears Luna’s Mark while using the Book he is doomed. You can say he was doomed the second he entered the story. His brotherly love for Vanitas is twisted. He is the embodiment of tragic. Everything that led him to this point was not his fault. The only thing he chose was to follow Luna and join their clan bc he would’ve died otherwise. Luna and Vanitas are the only good things he ever had.

We all know his backstory. So of course losing both would make him snap. And on top of all this he’s being manipulated by Teacher. Who fucking knows the lies or orders Teacher has been feeding him. All this when he’s like 12....13 at most.

And let’s approach the vanoé situation. We know the depth of vanoé’s relationship and even though Misha might’ve observed from afar, he doesn’t have that context. To be fair he probably wouldn’t care but point is, he sees Noé as some random guy. And again, let’s withdraw ourselves a bit and see things from the outside. How much time has passed since chapter 1? How long has Vanitas and Noé actually known each other? We know that a couple weeks passed since the end of the Gevaudan arc. We know that a week passed after Vanoé got kicked outta Ruthven’s study. If there are any other mini time skips I’m forgetting pls lemme know. But let’s be honest, they’ve known each other for two months. If we wanna push it, three. Of course how long you know a person doesn’t solely decide how close you get to them. You can know someone for two weeks but depending wtf goes on in that time frame, they can become your ride or die. But let’s use Misha’s logic for a minute.

You’ve known Vanitas longer, both of you went through hell under Dr. Moreau. You have the same Mark, you’re gonna suffer the same fate. And from how you see it, he chose a man he met by chance a few months ago, over you. Someone who will never truly get it. He is putting his life in the hands of a stranger over yours. You finally meet again after all this time, and the brother who you believed puts you above everything, points a gun at you. Yeah, Misha fucked up. But that will hurt anybody.

Misha challenges their relationship. He questions how much it even makes sense. It’s not only “how can you chose Noé over me?” But also “How can you kill Father but not him?” Is he more important than us?? And that’s a valid question. Messed up but understandable to ask. Noé has protected Vanitas and has been pretty helpful. But Vanitas doesn’t need him to survive. Noé isn’t essential for this suicide mission he’s on either. Misha cannot understand what Noé brings to Vanitas’ life.

Misha was so dependent on Vanitas that he couldn’t fathom his brother not feeling the same. Vanitas loves Misha, no matter how strained or corrupted that bond has become. But he is not emotionally capable to stay with him. And he is allowed to feel that way. And Misha is allowed to scream and wail and be broken about it. In conclusion, Misha is an amazing addition to the narrative, I love him a lot. But I also love Vincent from ph so that explains quite a bit doesn’t it?

[scudevils]

awk logan :(

[seltzerrudy]

The shooter in Ditch Party is so real dude

[sorry-i-call-it-soccer]

Okay, clearly a midfielder or sonny need to help emerson out he's getting isolated out there

[captain-krow-drozdov]

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

[jinaxxo]

howdy sigma!

[puppyeared]

horrible truth bomb dropped on my head 20 min ago

[mysicklove]

not to be a pervert or anything but thinking about yuuta whining out, “i-i don’t want to cum anymore!” when you overstimulate him to the point where he is squirming away from you with tears streaming down his flushed face

[popcorn-ceiling-chickemn]

I can't wait for Jean to spit out the most devastatingly encouraging and positive rhetoric during exy matches in with the most venomous bite as he has to hold back his Raven habits. Meanwhile Jeremy hearing Jean say things like "have a winning day!", or "good job on your foot work!" To their opponents like he's spitting curses and his racket tight in his fists with a face like he's about to knee cap them and remove their spleen with Jeremy standing on the court heart eyed and about to get checked into a wall because he's too busy watching Jean and forgot he has the ball.

[ohposhers]

going off the fact that JD wrote almost every Brozone song, i have this headcanon that on particularly lonely nights when JD can't sleep he stays up writing songs for his brothers that he will absolutely never show them ever </3 He's had the guitar since he was 11 and he refuses to get a new one cause it's one of the only things he still has from his parents LOLOL

[nocek]

Is it a stupid idea? Yes. Did I have to go overboard and animate it? No.

But I had to and I'm not sorry ;P

[bambeebirdie]

Okay consider Bruce Wayne is the very well known bankroller for the Justice League. Batman is still part of the league, but they don’t know he’s Bruce Wayne. So, due to Bruce Wayne being such a well known figure and very obviously connected to the Justice League, that has kinda made him a target for certain people which means the Justice League has decided to assign one of their members to help keep him safe. Insert notorious billionaire fighter Superman becoming the part time bodyguard of Bruce Wayne in this epic superbat romance

[ceruark]

DANCE WITH THE DEVIL.

synopsis: yan! hsr men as slasher movie killers… and “love interests.” [blade, boothill, aventurine, sunday] words: 3.1k cw: yandere themes: obsession, stalking. slasher elements, gore. a/n: happy friday the 13th to all who celebrate

BLADE is already pretty much like Michael Myers from Halloween: large man, terrifying presence, unfathomable kill count, and cannot die. No matter what you do, no matter how many times you or the other survivors find a way to kill him, he keeps coming back, and with renewed vengeance every time.

The first time you’d been subjected to his knife was at a summer camp. Having gone there every summer for years growing up, you grew attached to the place and decided to pick up a role as a counselor in the summers following your high school graduation, and they passed peacefully. However, in the few months leading up to your college graduation, misfortune befell the small town where the camp was located. Someone’s grave had been dug up, and just weeks after that, people started turning up dead, their bodies littered with so many stab wounds that some were unrecognizable.

Given the ongoing investigation, the counselors and other camp staff requested that the summer camp not reopen, but the owners and even some parents insisted they stay open, and so despite your better judgment, you returned. You needed the money, and you knew how to defend yourself— if anything happened, you could keep yourself and your kids safe.

At least, that’s what you believed. When the man appears in the doorway of your cabin, his stocky figure silhouetted by the moonlight and leaving two red eyes gleaming down at you, you know there’s not a chance in hell you’re making it out of there alive.

You’d thrown yourself at him, yelling for your kids to escape through the back. He’s been merciless, sinking his knife into your flesh over and over again, but you persevered and fought back until you were sure every single one of your kids had made it a good distance away from the cabin. At some point you’d collapsed, from exhaustion and blood loss.

The doctors said it was a miracle you survived. They had your house guarded since he hadn’t been detained, but once word of his death by police gunfire got around, things calmed down significantly. You relaxed over the years, letting your guard down and believing that things could return to normal. Serial killings all over the nation popped up, but you worried not—after all, the killer you were concerned with was dead.

One of the survivors reached out to you five years after that fateful night, wishing to get together with the others who lived to get drinks and properly move on from everything. It was, of course, a set up; Blade had returned, and the man who invited you believed he’d be spared if he got the rest of the survivors together in one place.

He’d been the first one murdered that night. 

Once again, you narrowly dodged death, just barely managing to get yourself to a hospital before you received one stab wound too many. Time goes on, and no matter how many times they put a bullet through his head, he manages to come back. The list of survivors has grown, but the list of victims is now countless.

You’re in your thirties when the police reach out to the adult survivors. There’s a new survivor: a five year-old girl by the name of Yunli. Her parents had been ruthlessly slaughtered, but he hadn’t touched even a single hair on the young girl’s hair. She didn’t have any living family, and so, you agreed to take her in. 

Life is easier with Yunli in it. A bright, spunky little thing, she brings joy to your days and some semblance of a family that you’ve been too scared to seek out. It’s nice to have the sound of laughter filling your home.

That same laughter has you smiling tonight, the girl’s giggling floating down the hallway and into the kitchen, where you’re washing dishes. A quick glance at the microwave’s clock tells you it’s close to her bedtime, and she’s far more energetic than she typically would be at this time. You wipe your hands off on a dish towel and walk down the hall toward her room, wishing to find out what’s working her up at this hour and wanting to tell her to wind down before bed.

You knock lightly before turning the knob. You get the door open a crack before the sight on the other side of it leaves you frozen, horrified.

He’s in Yunli’s room, kneeling before her as she shows him the many dolls you’ve bought her. His knife is on the floor beside him, and the eyes that have haunted your dreams for years pierce into you, pinning you where you stand.

The girl seems… happier with you, than she had been with her parents. Perhaps he’ll have to be kinder to you this time.

BOOTHILL gives me Texas Chainsaw Massacre vibes in terms of how he kills and the brutality of it all, but not personality-wise. No, I actually think he’d be quite personable with that southern charm of his— so of course, no one would ever expect him to do anything unspeakable.

You and your friends are on a road trip when the car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing but fields of crops as far as the eye can see, and the only sign of civilization is a barn, some stables, and a few coops with two houses near them about a mile away from where you’re standing.

You all make the trek, hoping to be able to get some help from the people living there. Worst case scenario, if it’s all been abandoned, you can squat there and look for tools to help you fix the car. But to your surprise, when you knock, a kind-looking man with wild white and black hair opens the door, and after hearing about your situation, is more than happy to be of assistance.

He tows the car onto his property and takes a look at it, determining that the entire engine needs to be replaced. Given his distance from the nearest auto shop, he says he’ll leave for town Sunday afternoon and get the part on Monday morning. It’s going to be an all-day trip, so he likely won’t be back until early Tuesday morning.

You’ve got a couple days to get to know him, in the meantime. Your friends absolutely adore him, pointing out how good of a guy he is, some even pointing out how attractive he is. You scoff one night as he’s making dinner away from where you’re all sitting, as one of your friends starts a bet on if any of you will be able to sleep with him before all of this is over.

Sunday afternoon comes all too soon, though, and none of you get very far with him before he’s heading off in his truck toward the nearest town. You’re a bit shocked that he would so willingly leave a group of strangers in his house unattended, but you chalk it up to his kindness that seems to be boundless.

You should have been far more concerned.

You’re all woken up that night by the sound of a chainsaw revving, shortly followed by one of your friend’s horrible shrieking. The room devolves into panic and chaos as you watch her get torn to shreds by the very man who invited you into his home, now donning a mask of what you hope is animal skin.

You all flee in different directions, but he knows the property better than you do, and sure enough, your friends are picked off one by one until you’re the last one standing. You narrowly dodge some of the traps he’s set up and take refuge in the stables, struggling to keep yourself together as you hear your friend’s cries in the distance. 

While looking for something to defend yourself with, you find a box hidden in a pile of hay. It’s locked, but you force it open, dumping its contents on the floor. A pistol, a few handwritten letters, and pictures of a woman and a young girl. You place the pistol beside you before your curiosity takes over, causing you to slowly go through and study the pictures.

In your distracted state, you failed to notice that he’d gotten into the stables. You jump to your feet when the chainsaw revs just a few feet in front of you. You turn off the safety and raise the gun, your hand steady and your shot clear.

He’s lost so much in his life, and it’s driven him to madness. And you, you remind him of something— someone precious who he lost to illness, to the cruelty of life.

He can’t lose you again. He won’t allow you to leave.

And that’s not something you’ll realize until he’s staring at you from the barrel of a gun you believe is loaded, laughing for a reason you can’t understand.

AVENTURINE stepped right out of a Scream movie. He’s a classic Ghostface-type killer, phone calls and everything. He’s certainly got the charisma needed to make the intimidating phone calls, and I feel like he would enjoy stalking and toying around with his prey a bit before going in for the kill. 

You could probably argue that he’s not the type to want to make things messy, but I feel like in this case, he would be using this as an outlet, meaning all his kills are brutal and gory. (Creative, at times, too. The police will give him that.) There’s just something so comforting about being covered in blood, the warm liquid almost serving as a warm embrace.

For him, there aren’t any better targets than his close friend group. He knows all their darkest secrets, and has no problem using his knowledge to torment them and easily back them into a corner, too panicked to see him coming until it’s too late. These people have always been fake, anyway, and he knows they’ve always looked down on him. Can you really blame him for taking out the trash?

And then, of course, there’s you. You’re not a saint by any means— no, you’ve got your fair share of skeletons in the closet, and each secret you divulge to him because of the trust you foolishly placed in him is sweeter than any death he could imagine giving you. Maybe that’s what draws him to you so much; where everyone else wears a mask, there’s something about you that’s genuine, and it’s a side of you that you’ve entrusted to only him.

So when the killer finally shows up on your doorstep, he’s the one you turn to. As you’re on the phone with the killer, responding to his taunts in an attempt to figure out where exactly he is in your house, you’re texting Aventurine on the side and sending him what you believe is your last goodbye. 

“Do you want to be forgiven?” The disguised voice on the other line croons into your ear. “Do you think you should be?”

You’ve just pressed send on your message when a hand seizes you by the back of the neck and throws you to the ground. The impact of hitting the hardwood floor distracts you from the sound of a phone buzzing nearby. You scramble backward, attempting to get to your feet as you do, but the masked man grabs onto your foot and sinks his knife into your calf, ripping a pained screech from your throat.

He drags you back toward him before settling on top of you, his legs straddling your waist rather suggestively. He sinks his blade into you and drags it across your skin slowly, the scorching pain leaving you writhing and crying out in pain.

He flees once he hears sirens in the distance. The police find you on the floor of your living room with four stab wounds and multiple cuts. Aventurine shows up not long after them, disheveled and worried and flashing the police the text you sent him. They allow him to ride in the ambulance with you, admiring his intent to endanger himself if it meant saving you.

You’re so frazzled that you don’t even notice he showed up at your house way sooner than he should’ve, as though he was already nearby. You just blindly turn to him for comfort, clutching onto him for dear life. It’s cute.

He runs his hands through your hair soothingly, shushing you and gently rubbing your back as you sob into his shoulder. You shouldn’t worry so much, dear. He’s here now, and he’ll make sure no one else lays a finger on you ever again.

You don’t realize your grave mistake until you’re standing in Jade’s basement, her brutalized body at your feet and a metal pipe in your hands. You can defend yourself all you like, but it’s far too easy for the masked killer to evade your swings and land his blade in your shoulder, your stomach, your thigh. All places that won’t kill you, of course.

When you finally collapse to your knees, sobbing hysterically and succumbing to your fate, the killer unexpectedly drops to his knees beside you. He wraps his arms around you and presses his chest to your back, trapping you in his hold. You shudder as he runs his blade along your face and neck, smearing your own blood across your soft skin.

“It’s okay,” he coos, and the familiar voice makes you freeze. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

The mocking laughter that follows makes your heart drop, and the rest of your hope vanishes.

SUNDAY is definitely involved in some Children of the Corn type of shit. Some supernatural slasher stuff where there’s a cult behind everything, and he’s at the head of it all.

Ena is not a kind god. Countless generations of Oaks have tried various methods of worship and offerings, but none work quite as well as the human sacrifice. This is something Mr. Wood had taught him from a very young age, explaining to Sunday their history as he methodically cut up whichever poor soul had wandered into their humble, hidden town that week.

As head of the Family, he’s exemplary. No one has ever wielded a blade quite like he has, his hand always steady and unflinching. His blessed hands bring prosperity to the land that has never been seen before, Ena’s favor raining down on him and his people. He is as revered as their god at this point, and there is nothing his people would not do for him.

The road trip you make every year to your parent’s house for Thanksgiving was a long one, and a sudden downpour along the way has you rolling to a stop in the nearest town. You plan to just take shelter at a restaurant and grab a bite to eat while you’re there, then fill up on gas and be on your merry way once everything clears up. 

Everyone is so kind, though. The locals in the restaurant make conversation with you, asking about your life and cooing at you once you explain that you’re on your way to visit your family. You spend most of your time talking to the people at the table next to you, a man and his sister, and you get so lost in conversation that you haven’t even realized night has fallen. You pay your bill and are ready to head out when the man stops you.

“You should stay the night at one of the inns,” he advises, a delicate hand placed on your shoulder. “There are still storm clouds, and it could start pouring again at any moment. It would be unfortunate to have to travel through that, especially at night.”

You check the forecast, and to your dismay, he’s right. With his help, you check into a hotel across the street, and you thank him for his assistance before you turn in for the night.

Your peaceful sleep is soon disrupted by a rag being held over your mouth and nose, startling you awake. At this point, you’ve already breathed in the chloroform, and you barely have time to register the formless figures around your bed dressed in shades of white and navy blue before you pass out.

You wake up in an underground cellar, stone walls encasing you in cold nothingness. There are four other people in the room with you, also bound and gagged and staring back at you with wide-eyed terror. There are screams of pain echoing down the stairs from somewhere above you all, the sound of synchronized chanting doing little to mask it.

It’s not difficult to guess what fate awaits you.

Young children dressed in extremely formal clothing bring you all food and water. They’re sweet to you all, terribly so. You’re not sure how long you’re down there, but the time you have left is counted down with each person that is taken out of the room. There are new people brought into the cellar, but once the original four you were with are gone, you know your time has come.

The next time the shapeless people in robes descend the steps, they reach for you. You’re injected with some kind of sedative before you even have the chance to lash out at them, and the blindfold they place over your eyes seems pointless, since you black out, anyways.

When you wake, your arms and legs are bound to some kind of marble slab that you’ve been laid on. You’ve been stripped, and your skin is covered in some kind of oil. It’s cold, and the vulnerability of being exposed just makes your situation all the worse.

Your breath hitches and your pitiful, muffled cries for help stop when you feel something sharp prick your skin. Sunday lightly applies pressure to the knife in his hand, carving beautiful patterns along the surface of your skin. With his free hand, he traces a gloved finger over the beads of blood the blade leaves behind, his touch so devout it’s downright sinful. The sight of you brings him pause, the knife stopping all too suddenly.

It is the first time he has hesitated during a ritual.

Perhaps… you’re not meant to be sacrificed. No, surely something as divine as you is meant for much more than that. Perhaps Ena has lured you here just for him, a reward for his unwavering faith, steady leadership, and all he has done for their people.

“As the highest among us,” Mr. Wood had said the day he named Sunday the new head of the Family, “you have first pick at reaping Ena’s blessings.”

Ena is not a kind god. But perhaps, just this once, they would allow him to be selfish.

[fairy-bard]

i’ve been loving watching critical role recently if for no other reason than because i get to watch a decent portion of viewers actively falling for cult tactics lmao

a forbes article describes cult tactics as when cult leaders “censor dissenting viewpoints, promote a distorted narrative and use relentless repetition and peer pressure”

ludinus needing to monologue at everyone he meets. cherry picking what information to let people know (ie the orb). showing popular world leaders (gods?) at their absolute worst as a means to win over the vulnerable. creating dissent between cult prospects and the people who they’re close to outside the cult. doesn’t take no for an answer. repeating his points over and over, in whatever context he thinks will be most persuasive. targeting people who’ve lost everything. convincing people that they’re special

matt is a genius.

[tubbytarchia]

I don't know what this is all I know is that LimL Joel makes me really emotional

[blorbologist]

Y'know, I think I figured out why the Hells still feel like a new low-level party to me, even though they're level 13 and almost 100 episodes in.

I don't quite think it's the lack of conversations, or the fact half the party's plot hooks are big ties to past campaigns - though that definitely plays a part.

... Bell's Hells still primarily rely on quest givers.

Most of their goals are given to them and do not feel organic to the party, and constantly remind us that the Hells are pretty much never the most powerful people in the room. Which is usually something you see with a low-level party.

NPCs offering jobs is not a bad thing; it's a very common plot hook. Matt has been extremely skilled with using NPC quest givers in those two campaigns. Not only do they provide an obvious plot thread, but they can put the party in the path of others (say, the Nein running into the Iron Shepherds while doing a job for the Gentleman and everything that came of that). And the Hells had a solid start with it too - Eshteross was an excellent quest giver!

The problem is that Bell's Hells have never really not had a quest giver.

Maybe it's a byproduct of the more plot-heavy structure of this campaign? But while prior parties have felt like they decided on their course of action and what they prioritized, Bell's Hells feels less like level 13 (13! Level 13!) experienced adventurers and more like an MMO group clicking on the exclamation point over an NPC's head. Where does the plot demand we go next? Who do we report back to?

They're level 13.

At level 13, Vox Machina had just defeated a necromantic city-state to clear their name and Percy's conscience. And, you know, the Conclave just destroyed Emon. No one was explicitly telling the group to gather Vestiges and save the world (though Matt guided them there), and they were usually among the most powerful people in the room. They chose which Vestiges to prioritize, which dragons to tackle when, even if the over-all plot was pretty clear.

At level 13, the Mighty Nein were celebrating Traveler Con (another PC goal, I'll note) after brokering peace between two nations, accidentally becoming pirates and heroes of the Dynasty. The Nein regularly chose what to do based on personal goals, not grand ones. Though definitely smaller fish than Vox Machina at this level, they were very independent and gaining solid political clout.

While we're at it: level 13 is one level lower than the Ring of Brass, who had a huge amount of sway over Avalir. They ended the world, and also saved it, while in the grand scheme of things being only a smidge more powerful than Bell's Hells are now.

Can you really see the Hells wielding that amount of influence, when they're constantly being told what to do next?

The god-eater might be unleashed, so Bell's Hells have no time to do anything but what is asked of them. No time for therapy unless stolen from Feywild time, no travel on foot and late-night watches. They haven't even had time to grieve FCG. Percy was grieved in the middle of the Conclave arc. Molly was grieved when half the party was still in irons.

Matt is in the very unfortunate spot of not being able to give the Hells the same agency as the other two parties. Not only because of the world-ending plot introduced so early on; they are surrounded by characters they know (and the cast knows) are stronger and wiser than them - the familiarity of the past PCs and NPCs is to their disadvantage.

Why would the party reasonably ignore Keyleth's task that will help save the world and go off on a romp? Why would the cast when they know well Keyleth has to be sensible and with the best intentions in mind? The stakes are just too high.

It means that the Hells still feel like they're running errands instead of pursuing their own destiny. Their accomplishments are diminished as just being parts of a to-do list, and any stakes feel padded by several level 20 PCs/NPCs standing 5 steps away ready to catch them.

This isn't Bell's Hell's fault, nor is it Matt's. It could be amended, I think, if the Hells are really left to their own devices for a long period of time without support and shortcuts (like during the party split)... which would be really tricky to pull off at this point in the campaign.

They're level 13. They're big fish, but they're stuck in a pond full of friendly sharks, so they don't feel big at all.