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heavenlyraindrops · 1 month

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♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter One ♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter One Warnings: Slight mention of blood, profanity, mild violence Visit the first tag on this post to see all other chapters.

♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱

[Chapter One]

♱♱♱

“What?”

You stared at Adam incredulously, wings almost stuttering to a stop mid-air. He stared back, unfazed at your reaction as you backed away and up from him, mind reeling. You were both suspended in the air, held up by your moving wings, but you felt like you were going to plummet to the ground any second.

The recently opened Pentagram in the sky flickered at the edges around the gaping hole that had allowed the angels to enter Hell. To be fair, you weren’t supposed to be there- you weren’t an exterminator, but Adam had managed to get you permission to join him, arming you with a spear and calling it protection. Plus, if you wanted to go, it wasn’t like the Seraphim would object. It wasn’t a secret, the soft spot they had for you- although, unlike Adam, you did your best to abstain from exploiting it for your every whim.

“What’s the big deal?” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t wanna marry me? I’m the First-“

“First Man, I know,” you frowned, voice strained, at his blatant arrogance. “But Hell in the middle of an extermination isn’t exactly the place to propose to someone, Adam.”

“I was gonna say First Dick,” he grumbled. “Why the fuck you gotta be so complicated? Just fuckin’ say yes. I’m the First Di- Man, you’re the purest soul in Heaven, it only makes sense-“

You balled your fists, forcing yourself to keep a level head. “Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to marry you?”

Adam almost seem to freeze in mid-air. His still beating wings gave it away. “Why the fuck not?” He snarled. You flinched, and his face softened slightly.

“You know I won’t stop trying until you say yes,” he declared. You rolled your eyes, raising up and away into the red sky.

“Just stop trying,” you snapped, and with a powerful beat of your wings you set off into the distance, ignoring Adam’s calls, voice chasing after you, commanding you to stay back.

Your eyes streamed against the wind. You knew Adam liked you, he hadn’t exactly been quiet about it, but there was a lot of stuff he wasn’t quiet about- a lot of stuff which, ultimately, was a turn off for you. You were definitely never going to marry him, and the sheer audacity for him to propose to you so casually, in the middle of Hell, just pissed you off in a way you couldn’t describe.

You sighed. There was no point dwelling on it now. A large silhouette in the distance began to form more clearly. A large- manor? Palace? You glanced down at the streets swooping away beneath you. They were deserted.

Weird. You mentally shrugged. People probably just didn’t want to get caught out in the middle of an extermi-

BANG!

Angelic bullets? Your mind barely registered the thought.

A searing pain stabbed into your wing, which went stiff. For a horrifying moment you were suspended in mid-air, your wings flapping frantically as you tried to stay up, a terrified cloud of feathers and limbs, before another BANG! tore through your remaining functional wing.

You screamed as you flapped your wings a few more pathetic times, careening straight towards the manor-palace. You crashed through a window, taking the curtains down with you, the glass showering you unceremoniously, cutting into your skin as you lay sprawled across the floor in a cloud of feathers. Your spear clattered onto the floor next to you, your wing twitching painfully.

You barely even managed to notice your own blood until you focused your vision. The light from the broken window filtered across your body, a slit cutting across the dark, shadowy room. Your gilded blood glinted in it, seeping into the carpet and the curtains which were buried beneath your weak form, staining the pure white of your splayed out wings.

A single white feather drifted down from the air and landed on your arm. You coughed. Gold sputtered from your lips and trickled down the side of your mouth.

Charming, you thought dryly.

The door of the room opened. You could just barely hear the creak above the blood pounding in your ears. You gulped, hearing footsteps get closer and closer to you-

“Well well well. What do we have here?”

I’m royally screwed, you thought, closing your eyes and waiting for the killing blow.

Instead, gentle, gentle hands touched your face, turning it towards the light and scraping hair away from your eyes. You flinched at the touch, then relaxed as the voice whispered something. You couldn’t make it what it was saying, but it was soothing. And calm. Your breathing evened out. You just barely managed to lift your heavy eyelids.

“Who are you?” Your mouth formed the words but your voice couldn’t get them past your throat without them coming out cracked and gravelly. The voice hushed you. You couldn’t make out the person's face. They were just a pale, blurry silhouette, leaning over your body.

“Close your eyes,” the voice said. “You’re safe now.”

You obeyed.

♱♱♱

You jolted, feeling a presence next to you. The warmth radiated off of them. You could sense their being there.

It was a struggle to unglue each eye open, and when you did, everything was blurry- it took you a few seconds to even realize you were in a bed. The soft covers rustled against your cheek, until you sat up. You blinked slowly and looked around, taking in your surroundings.

“Awake that quickly?”

You flinched, wings bursting out in alarm, unfurled over your head. The man sitting next to the bed you lay on raised an eyebrow, smirking. You gulped. “Who are you?”

“Never mind that.” He stood up, shaking down his rolled up sleeves. “How are your wings?”

You realized that they were still arched out from your back. You furled them back into your back, mortified. You also realized that they were painless.

“They’re healed,” you said breathlessly. The man flashed a prideful grin, revealing his sharp teeth. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“How?”

“Simple. I healed them.”

You frowned, pressing your back against the wall to get as far away from him as possible. He simply stood there, crossing his arms. You blinked, slowly.

“Thank…you?”

“You’re welcome,” he said smugly. You tilted your head as he beckoned for you to stand up, which you did slowly. You glanced out the window. This one wasn’t shattered, and the curtains hung proudly. You were in a different room than the first. The red sky beyond glared at you tauntingly.

“How long was I out?”

“Oh, not long. Don’t worry. The extermination’s still on.” He winked at you. “Your pretty self won’t be stuck here until the next one.”

You remained silent, staring at him, begging to God that your blush wasn’t showing on your face.

It must have been, because his grin only widened.

“Why did you save me?”

“My own selfish desires, of course.” He flicked his hand at a pair of chairs. “Sit down.”

Not knowing what to say, you complied. He sat opposite you. You leaned forward slightly, scanning his face for a single expression that might betray what was going to come next. You found nothing.

He sat back, completely relaxed, which unnerved you more than you could admit. The light hit off of his blond hair and pale skin that made him seem almost… angelic. You knotted your fingers together in your lap, biting your lip and waiting for him to speak.

“So. An angel, huh? You don’t look like an exterminator. How’d you find yourself down here?” His voice seemed to darken a little with his next words. “Did you… fall?”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Of course I didn’t fall,” you spat. You weren’t usually hostile, but the anxiety of the situation was pressing down on you far too hard. “I got special permission to come down by the Seraphim.”

The sinner raised an amused eyebrow at your outburst.

“And who are you to ask me anything?” You continued, frazzled. “A mere sinner-“

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.”

You clamped your lips shut at his tone. He smiled, satisfied, and continued.

“So, the Seraphim. Why’d they let you down here? They’re not the type to bend rules like that.”

“How would you know?” You said. “I said I wanted to go, they let me.”

“They must have a soft spot for you, then.” His eyes narrowed. “Or, you’re important.”

“I’m nowhere near important,” you snapped, crossing your arms. He nodded slowly. You couldn’t tell if he believed you or not.

For what seemed like another hour he continued to shoot questions at you, mostly about Heaven, and you hesitantly answered. You didn’t know why you stuck around as long as you did- refusing to acknowledge to yourself the sort of charm that beheld, the fact that he was so undeniably attractive, which you would never admit to yourself.

You relaxed when you heard him speak next: “You can go now. The Pentagram will close soon.” Pause. “Can you fly?

You stood up, dusting yourself off, and nodded before turning towards the window, which had magically pushed itself open.

“Wait,” he called out. You turned. “You should take this.” Your angelic spear materialised in front of you, dropping down into your hands.

You clambered out the window and jumped off, before hovering before it and turning to face him. The beat of your wings made the curtains sway. He leaned out, staring at you expectantly, as if he could sense what you were going to say.

“Now will you tell me your name?” You asked irritably. He smirked again, showing his sharp teeth this time. Your heart thumped in your chest.

“‘Course I can, angel. The name’s Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.” His grin widened as he winked again. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The words knocked the breath out of you almost immediately. For a minute you froze, standing there like a deer in headlights before turning and swooping away into the red sky, towards the closing Pentagram.

The name’s Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar. The words echoed around your head relentlessly.

“Fuck.”

♱♱♱

A/N: Stay Tuned!

Taglist: @ica1, @boredlime, @tremendoushearttaco, @sweetadonisbutbetter

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months

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"Those angel's minds are hard to change".....

... those, huh. Not "an angel's" which could include you, but those.

And how would you know they were hard to change, Vaggie? Did you try? Were you trying?

Is that why you didn't look quite like them, or act quite like them?

"They're bloodthirsty and deranged-" well we know the ones YOU hung out with were, Adam and Lute and the other Exorcists.

And you certainly are bloody too- "killed THOUSANDS"- but you stopped when you saw the sinner you'd been chasing was a child. Seeing them scared and cringing under your shadow horrified you.

You also were afraid to let anyone else see you sparing this child. The way you glanced around nervously, the low urgent way you told them to "Go, run. Now!" and that instant look of terror when you turned and saw Lute there behind you, with her shadow looming over you instead.

You knew it wouldn't end well for you.

....was that the first time Vaggie realized what she was doing was wrong? Or, is it something she'd BEEN realizing, and this was just the first time she'd been CAUGHT.

Hard to change. Well. That could be why Lute followed. A few too many questions about who you were killing and why.

(but you must not have thought you'd stood out that much. You didn't think they'd recognize you- long hair and out of uniform, missing eye and missing wings)

(did you never realize what a "bad bitch" you were? Did it never click that you were one of Adam's top girls?)

(were the exterminations something you didn't take pride in. Was your kill count just a duty you did each year, because the people you trusted said it was needed and right and good, but the idea of being "good" at it didn't sink in for you. It didn't sink in, that Adam and Lute would know you on sight after three years- You didn't even change you NAME-)

(well... you are shit at lying, after all)

(and for all your talk about how terrible and untrustworthy angels are, you still thought it was worth the wasted breath pleading with Adam not to expose your secret)

(what does that say about you? What does it say, with you missing eye and missing wings, that you had even the smallest hope of mercy from them? You trusted them once, didn't you. You trusted them enough to do the extermination every year even when you weren't happy about it. Did they see that part too, without you realizing it?)

Or maybe you DO include yourself in "those angels".

After all, seconds before sparing one sinner who happened to be a child, you impaled another on your spear without a second's hesitation. Swooped down on them and pinned them to the street like a hawk stooping on a field mouse. Did it without the slightest pause or look of remorse before darting after your next victim.

So maybe even for you it was hard to change.

Easiest to do when a child's face was staring up at you. Harder when diving down at someone's back, when they were an adult and faceless to you, too busy running in fear to turn around.

Easier again though when it's not a sinner at all but the hellborn princess looking horrified FOR you, reaching down and bandaging your wound...

...and proving your little moment of mercy right.

Vaggie, were you up in heaven worrying that there were sinners in hell, people in hell, that DIDN'T deserve to be killed again?

Do you think about how long it took you, how hard it was for you, to act on that thought even when you'd already been having it- and flinch every time Charlie talked about touching the hearts of angels and making them understand?

As if it was that easy? As if one song or set of note cards could do it?

Because you didn't change. For thousands of deaths, you didn't. For that one last person you killed right before being cast out yourself, you still didn't understand.

(until it was too late for them, anyway)

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #angst thoughts #speculation

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theaspsaroaceimagines · 3 months

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Can We Make This Work?

Warning: spoilers for episode 6

A/N: This was requested on wattpad and is tangentially related to my fic, An Angel in Demon's Clothing, but takes place in a separate continuity.

The reader is a mortal angel who volunteered to go to Hell to help with Charlie's redemption project. Charlie and Vaggie are the only ones in Hell who know the reader is an angel, and the reader's mission is a secret that Adam and Lute don't know about.

Song is from Journey to Bethlehem.

You'd returned to the Hotel earlier than the others, overwhelmed by Consent's loud music and bright lights. Not to mention the many, many flirtatious demons making passes at you. So you were the only one around when Charlie and Vaggie returned from their meeting.

They returned a bit sooner than you would have thought they would. That's the first red flag.

"You're back early!" you observe, puzzled, and approach the two demonesses slowly.

Immediately, Charlie distances herself from Vaggie, a look of panic and betrayal in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you were an angel? An exorcist?!" she wails.

You blink in shocked silence. Vaggie is an angel? Why hadn't you met her before you came down here?

Vaggie tries to approach Charlie, holding her hands out in a soothing gesture, but the demon princess only backs away.

Slowly, you shake yourself out of your stupor. "Wait, what's going on? Why are you guys back so early?"

The two shoot their gazes to you, as if they'd only just noticed your presence. Vaggie looks anxious and somewhat defeated, and Charlie is nothing short of distressed. Charlie runs to you, crushing you in a desperate hug, before dragging you up to the Hotel's penthouse suite.

Leaving Vaggie behind.

You're growing more concerned by the second. "Charlie, what happened?" you ask, stumbling beside her as she continues to cling to you.

She bursts into tears, gripping you tighter. "They wouldn't listen!" she sobs, "Adam wouldn't listen! Vaggie's an exorcist and has been lying to me this whole time!" She releases you, turning to pace around the suite in a tearful panic. "And the meeting was a disaster! The Angels don't even know what it takes to get into Heaven! And now the extermination is in a month, and Adam says he's coming for the Hotel first!"

The last bit of news shakes you to the core and you blanch. "What? Why? Why would he do that?! Is he even allowed to make targeted attacks?" You try to calm yourself. Panicking won't help, Charlie needs you calm.

You hear a thump, and whip your head around to see that Charlie has fallen to her knees by one of the windows.

"How could I be," she sings in a soft, defeated voice, "Oh, so naive?" She wipes at her face with her sleeve as you approach to try to comfort her.

"Foolishly thinking there's more to this life for me," She tearfully looks out the window with a doleful expression as it begins to acid rain on the hellscape below, before glancing back at you. "Two broken hearts," she lilts, holding a loose fist to her chest, "Right from the start,"

She turns away from the window and curls up in dejection, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms over them, "Watching the dreams that we have as they fall apart,"

You pause in your efforts, hit with the overwhelming emotion emanating from the princess you've come to know as your friend.

"This will never work," her voice sounds almost bitter as she sings, burying her face into her knees, "Even trying feels insane. This will only hurt,"

She turns her head, looking at you expectantly, "Don't you feel the same?"

You sigh. "I feel it too," you admit, joining her in song and making the last few steps to her side, "But what can I do?"

You kneel down next to her, gazing at her from the corner of your eye, "I'm just the stranger they say is the one for you,"

"Maybe with time," you sing, taking Charlie's hand in yours, thinking about Adam, your home in Heaven, and the second home you have in Hell, "Something will change? Making the best of this might be the only way.

"Can we make this work?" you stand, gently helping Charlie up as you do. Looking out the window yourself, you take in the oddly beautiful landscape of Hell.

Charlie joins in and the two of you sing together: "Even trying feels insane."

"Maybe when it hurts," your eyes and voice harden with determination. Things seem grim, but you aren't giving up on your mission. Both Heaven and Hell depend on it. You turn to face Charlie, "We'll be worth the pain."

"There are too many questions, Too little time," Charlie points out. "Too much to ask for, The rest of my life."

You join in with her in agreement, both of you singing, "It's a mountain too high to climb,

"Too many voices filling me with doubt," the two of you can hear them: Adam, Lute, Alastor, the newscasters at 666 News, Sera, even your first patient, Angel Dust. "Can you hear them now?"

"It's hard to have faith," you admit.

"It's hard to believe," Charlie agrees.

"Our future holds more Than what we can see," you sing together.

You take Charlie's hands, "We have to trust what we don't understand," you resolve, and Charlie joins in;

"It could be a part of God's plan."

"Can we," you sing, pulling Charlie into a dance, hoping to encourage her.

"Can we," Charlie echoes, falling into step.

"Make this,"

"Work?" you finish together, before twirling around, "I know trying feels insane."

"Maybe," you lead the princess of Hell in graceful steps, freeing your true angelic wings. They give off a silvery shine as the two of you dance together.

"Maybe," you can see the stars, feel the cosmos.

"When it,"

"When it," God's Plan would come together with time.

"Hurts," the two of you sing with resolve, "We'll be worth the pain!"

"Can we make this work?" you pull Charlie into a hug as the two of you wrap up the song, "Can we make this work?"

You tuck your true wings away as you end your dance, sending Charlie a gentle smile as their light disappears.

"We'll get through this," you tell her, "I don't know how yet, but we'll get through this."

"Okay," Charlie breathes.

"We should talk to Vaggie," you give a gentle suggestion, "I didn't know she was an angel, either; I've never met her in my time in Heaven, but I'm sure she had an at least somewhat good reason to hide it. Besides, she's probably having a rough time right now."

"You're probably right," Charlie admits reluctantly.

You give her a wry smile, "Come on, there's no way to fix this without communication."

So you and the princess of Hell leave the suite with a new resolve.

#hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel charlie #platonic reader insert #charlie & reader

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androgynousblackbox · 11 days

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More stuff for this AU:

-Vox is the benefactor for the hotel and was there literally from the start. Velvette send him an email just the same as the richest motherfuckers that she could find in hell with a copypasted message, not really expecting much from the king of hell himself, but was then surprised when Vox appeared at the door of her run down apartment claiming to be "intrigued" by her proposal. After Velvette sold her pitch to him, Vox gives the biggest laugh ever and gives Velvette all the money she needs to make the hotel, promising that if this idea of her works and they can actually turn sinners into winners she will receive a lot more money. Maybe they could have a whole franchise of redemption if all turns out okay! -Vox and Mammon are greed besties. -Velvette dates Verosika. Verosika is very supportive of Velvette´s project. -Valentino is still very much a pimp and trafficker of guns that works closely with Carmilla Carmine. He came to know about the project of Velvette after she gave a passionate presentation on the news, after destroying verbally everyone who mocked her. Valentino thought to himself that he just had to be friends with such a huge bitch. -Angel Dust and Husker are angels dedicated to the extermination. The extermination is kept a secret from the rest of heaven still, including his own twin sister Molly, who he lives with. -Adam is the oldest sinner on all of hell and the first official resident of the Hazbin Hotel. He fucking hates Vox for condeming him there, but Vox literally has no recollection of who the fuck is him. That must have been data that got lost on one of his many updates. Adam is so fucking tired of hell that will do anything to get the fuck out of there. -Lute is the second resident and a fallen angel who fell when she tried to make Husker fell. Angel Dust found her out before she could do much and casted her away instead. Originally she just wanted a place to crash, but ends up staying because it's not that bad of a place after all. -Velvette has a crush/hate on Charlie because "she is not even that pretty, I mean fuck, if Lucifer wanted a good looking bitch I could have been that" and Verosika is 100% the kind of girlfriend to be there, nod and say "yeah, babe, you are so right, you are so much prettier. Honestly Lucifer missed a chance when he didn't pick you up as his fake daughter." Velvette is also the number one fan of Charlie because clout (and also she is pretty, fuck it). -Alastor literally came back to the tower after reporting on some event on a mobile station and Lucifer had already adopted Charlie, on whom he dotted and pampered on as if she was his actual daughter. He didn't get it, but Lucifer seemed happy in a way he haven't seen him in a long time so of course he let it slide (after investigating on Charlie's background to make sure that she wasn't scamming Lucifer). After realizing that Charlie had no bad intentions whatsoever and didn't represent any danger for Lucifer, only then he started to warm up to her and treat her as his own surrogate daughter too. Obviously, since Lucifer was his then obviously they were going to have the same family too.

-Alastor at the start didn't want anything to do with Lucifer, prefering to do the overlord shit on his own, but Lucifer kept following him around and helping him out so much that he realized that it was for the best for the two of them remain together. Lucifer fell first, but Alastor fell harder kind of deal. -Lucifer had a wife and daughter when he was alive, but he was killed for an investigation he was conducting when his daughter was literally just a baby and he always regretted not being able to be there for her. Charlie fills that void for him, even if he knows the dates don't match up at all and Charlie could really never been his daughter. He was so lucky that Charlie herself carried on with her own daddy issues that makes her suck up all the affection like a sponge, instantly. -Both Alastor and Lucifer also received emails from Velvette offering to be sponsors for her hotel. They never even read it. Alastor has Sir Pentious as an assistant who reads all that crap for him and deleted it instantly because he thought it was a scam (and he was right). -Emily is the demon maid of the hotel and literally the only person who believes in redemption. Nobody has the heart to tell her that it's all bullshit made for profit, not even Vox.

(this AU is available for asks, btw! Maybe I can get inspired to write something else)

#radioapple #appleradio #duckiedeer #staticmoth #the vees #hazbin hotel au #swap hazbin hotel au

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missblissy · 3 years

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Hello! I was wonder if you could tell me more about Fiota? 🥺 👉👈 She's so pretty! What kind of OC is she?

*Sobs* o k ay. More of her Info under the cut

General

Full Name: Fiota Ignis Magne Meaning of Name: Flame/Fire Nickname: Fi (pronounce Fii, not Fee) Known As: The Forgotten Princess Age: Unkown Sex: Hermaphroditic (can switch genders, perfers female though) Place of Birth: Unkown Birthday: Forgotten Currently living in: Limbo Species/Race: Succubus/ Incubus Blood Type: AB Occupation: Overlord Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Social Status: Exiled Princess Relationship Status: Married Status: Somewhere In Hell

Appearance

Height: 5'6 Weight: 170 lbs Skin color: white Hair style: short and curly Hair color: blonde Eye color: pink Distinguishing Features: rosy cheeks Preferred Clothing: formal, anything in purple Accessories: a choker necklace with a gem that traps souls in it.

Health

General health: Healthy Diet: Raw fruits and vegetables and meats. Never cooked. Posture: Perfect Any physical illnesses?: None Any mental illnesses?: Trauma Take drugs?: Never Smoke?: A pack a day Drink?: Every second she gets.

Fighting

Weapons: A Death Sythe, has the ability to kill angels. Skills: Magic, close combat, brute force. Abilities: Has a full demonic goat form. Last Resort: Murder, will only kill someone if she has to. Strengths: Strong willpower, she knows when to back down and rarely goes overbored.

Relationships

Family: Lucifer (Father) Lilith (Mother) Charlie (Younger Sister) Love Interest: Alastor (Husband) Friends/Allies: Not many, she lives a very isolated life. Laylette (An Imp who technically is her servent but she trusts her) Enemies: Lucifer, and every current Overlord.

Views/Opinions on...

Government: Prefers a monarchy, strongly dislikes modern governments. She's beyond old-fashioned, she's ancient. Religion: Pointless, it didn't do her any good. Economy: Taxation without representation. Technology: Hates it, will not use it at any cost. Can't stand modern technology.

Favourites

Food: Pomegranate Color: Purple Animal: Lamb Holiday: Halloween Season: Fall Time of day: Night Thing to watch: Musicals Movie: Doesn't watch movies Type of art: All Art is Good Art Genre of music: She enjoys almost all music, but hates anything along the lines of electronic/dubstep/club music. She finds it distasteful. Genre of literature: Romance

History

Fiota was born a human female to Lilith after her mother escaped the Garden of Eden. As punishment, Fiota died for being the child of Lucifer and was sent to hell. For hundreds of years, she worked tirelessly to earn the respect of her father. She would help conquer and betray in his name and expand his power over hell. Eventually, however, Charlie was born and as a hell-born demon, by birthright, Charlie would be given the throne and named the heir. Enraged at losing her right to the throne, Fiota challenged her father and lost. Lucifer cut off Fiota's own black wings and as punishment, he exiled her to Limbo, where she has remained for hundreds of years. Around the time Alastor died, he made an effort to topple every Overlord he could. Fiota was the only one he couldn't beat, he made a deal with her though that would blow up in his face. He was still new to learning his powers and the deal backfired, making it so Alastor could never be far from her. Forced to be together they made the best out of the worst and eventually developed a relationship. They were married in secret. When Fiota hears that Charlie had started a hotel to rehabilitate sinners, she sent Alastor to go spy on her sister. Eventually, Fiota would arrive at the hotel with plans to sabotage her sister. However, instead, Fiota ends up rekindling her relationship with her family and coming to terms with her feelings towards her family as well.

Personality

Fiota is a very isolated person. Since her exile, no one in hell seems to remember who she is. Limbo is a part of Hell where minor sinners are sent. The people who weren't good enough for Heaven, but didn't deserve Hell were sent to Limbo. Fiota quickly became the Overlord and ruled with an iron fist. She's very orderly, organized, and precise. She is not cruel however, she is very well mannered and lawfully good. She always does the right thing even if she does not agree with it. She comes off as stern, cold, and serious. However, it's just a hardened mask to fool her enemies. Under her mask, she is thoughtful, considerate, and understanding. She's willing to listen to people and help them in any way she can. She can be kind if she wants to but prefers to be stern and keeping people at an arm's length. She understands that not everyone who ends up in Hell is inherently bad or necessarily deserves to be there, so she offers Limbo as a safe haven for the people who can manage to find it. Those who can find Limbo and live under her protection are safe from exterminations, safe from overlords, crime, drugs, or any of the other chaos you'd see in Pentagram City.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #oc #oc;; fiota #oc;; ignis #hh oc #orginial character #alastor x oc #weeps in a corner #pls #i love her #thank u for asking #i will gush about Fiota for days

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devintrinidad · 4 years

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Charlastor Week #4: Jealousy

“They look exactly as I would imagine they would look like.” Charlie leaned against the railing of her balcony as she looked up at the blood tinted sky, her eyes intent in their focus.

As Alastor followed her gaze, he realized that she was looking up at the immaculate white sphere that was surrounded by a halo. He pursed his lips at the sight.

Heaven.

Still, Alastor decided to join her, but he opted to sit on the railing, his back to Pentagram City. “Pardon, my dear?” He leaned forward so that his chin rested on the head of his microphone, which muttered something about personal boundaries and that he didn’t appreciate being used as a recliner.

Charlie’s eyes seemed to be misted over, but she stayed perfectly still. Her gaze never left the moon and Alastor felt a stab of irritation ignite. Whenever Charlie had her head in the clouds, it was hard to know if he actually held her attention or if she was merely giving him filler answers.

“The angels… I’ve never seen one up close.” Charlie chuckled wryly to herself before she glanced up at her business partner. “It’s ironic since my dad used to be one, but he would never show me his wings. Something to do with it being painful and well…” Charlie shrugged her delicate shoulders, a tear pooling at the edge of one of her eyes.

Without much thought put into his actions, the Radio Demon reached into his ragged overcoat and grabbed a lace handkerchief that had been gifted to him so long ago by a dear friend. He hated having to part with it, but, as he looked at the blonde with contemplation, he found that he didn’t mind. A lady in need was far more deserving of a lacy bauble than he who never cried.

With a flourish, he bent forward in his perch and dabbed her eye. All the while, he kept himself focused on her eyes, not once straying away from his target.

“You’ve never seen one up close?” Alastor couldn’t help but wonder. “You’ve lived longer than all of us in the hotel combined. There wasn’t a chance at all?”

Charlie laughed lowly before she faced him fully. “I think it had something to do with the fact that I am the Princess of all of Hell. It would be… sort of tragic if I were to end up dead if I went outside during the extermination.” She traced the railing with one of her fingers as she glanced down at the citizens milling below. “I’ve always wanted to meet them. The angels. My uncles, especially.”

“And God?”

She shrugged. “Dad said my head would explode and my molecules would disintegrate within seconds of beholding or perceiving his true form. It’s marginally safer to view an angel up close.”

“But your father doesn’t count.”

“That about sums it up. Yeah.”

“And what about you? Don’t you count?”

Charlie mumbled something under her breath. This time, instead of something heated searing his body, he felt strangely concerned and sad for the young woman. With a small hum, he gracefully jumped from his seat on the balcony railing and leaned forward slightly over Charlie.

“My dear, I hate to be a bother, but I couldn’t hear you.” He flashed a small smile at her when she refused to look into his eyes. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you were keeping something from me!”

Underneath his piercing gaze, Charlie squirmed and rocked on her heels. Truly, they had become closer over the past few decades while managing the hotel. Whatever walls or boundaries that had separated them back in their first meeting had slowly crumbled after years of coaxing (from her) and the eventual concession of allowing himself to be more vulnerable to others (mainly her, but it was an improvement from Alastor). With that said, it surprised Charlie a little to know that she was withholding something of great value to her person—a gesture that decades ago, she wouldn’t have questioned. Now, she wasn’t too sure if she should keep this matter a secret—even if the aforementioned secret wasn’t exactly that.

Meanwhile, Alastor found himself impatiently waiting for her reply. After years of entertaining the masses via broadcasts, Alastor found it deeply uncomfortable that Charlie was electing to stay inside her head all this time. Inane chatter was one thing (he quite liked it when she opened up to him), but this… It was like she was hiding something from him. What if it was something important? And besides… it felt like… in a way, like she was ignoring him.

And entertainers like him don’t like to be ignored.

As the radio static seemed to reach an ungodly level of noise, Charlie seemed to snap out of whatever trance that she was in. She faltered upon seeing Alastor’s blank expression—or as blank as it could get while a smile still marred his features, but stood her ground.

“No… I don’t think I count. I’m just a hellborn demon.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned over the railing. “When I was younger, I always begged Dad to let me see his wings. He would laugh it off and tell me that it wasn’t worth it. I—I knew that he was lying, he’s always a liar that one, but I was young and I took his word for it. And then, one day, while I was still almost a few centuries old, I managed to sneak out and watch the extermination process for the first time…”

Charlie glanced at Alastor at the corner of her eyes, unsure of she still had his attention. She need not worry. The Radio Demon looked pensive, the smile on his face was nothing more than a curved line on his face as he tried to understand her point.

“I guess… a part of me is jealous.” She sucked in a deep breath, her gaze returning to her beloved city. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Hell and I love the people more, but… the angels were so beautiful… Their halos, the way they moved, the wings….” Charlie shook her head to dispel her crazy though. “I’ve always wanted to fly into the sky, see the stars for myself…”

“By flying?”

She nodded.

“Isn’t that crazy? I have everything I could possibly dream of down here, but heaven just calls to me.”

#charlastorweek2020 #charlastor week 2020 #charlastor week #charlastor #chalastor #charlie magne #alastor #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction #devin trinidad author #devintrinidad author #devin trinidad #devintrinidad

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

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12 Days of Blasphemy - Demon Side (Rated NC17)

Summary:

It's Christmas time, and Hastur hates Christmas time. Avoids it like chocolate and candy canes (since he actually enjoyed the plague). But here he is, on Earth in December, to meet with his least favorite demon ever. But his mind changes somewhat when it seems Crowley has started taking his job seriously again ... But, of course, things aren't always what they seem ... (1561 words)

Notes: Written for the '12 Days of Blasphemy' prompt 'kneeling'. Also, I'm going to cling to the idea that this is a Christmas fic the same way 'Die Hard' is a Christmas movie XD NSFW in the suggestive sense. Warning for implied oral and mention of Crowley's demon form. Basically, Aziraphale is a horrible angel to his poor, overworked husband.

Read on AO3.

“Hail Satan.”

A muffled squawk! and ruffle of feathers greet Hastur as he trudges through the muddy field to reach the assigned meeting place. ‘Bloody pigeons,’ he thinks, scanning the ground for a glimpse of the flying rats. ‘They’re everywhere. Been kicking them left and right all day.’

Of course, he’d been doing it on purpose, mostly for fun, but they still got under foot of their own accord far too often.

“Yeah, uh, you know … hail … and all that,” Crowley calls across the field, offering up a stunted wave, just the wiggle of a few fingers from beneath his collar, his voice hitching up in pitch on the word hail. He sounds uncomfortable, like he’d rather be anywhere but here, which is often the case, but more so than usual on this dismally wet (yet still festive) December night.

Hastur growls. He hates Christmas, loathes the good tidings and cheer that come along with it. There’s a farmhouse nearby, dressed to the nines with Christmas lights and puffy inflatable things that move their arms and turn their heads to reveal the manic smiles on their faces. He doesn’t understand their purpose other than they make children laugh.

And he despises the laughter of children most.

Hastur took the liberty of cursing a handful of them in various front yards on his way over – snowmen, Santas, reindeer, a polar bear or two. Even a bouncy castle, set up and waiting to entertain at a holiday party tomorrow afternoon. Some will simply deflate at odd intervals and require replacing, others will attack pets and children. At full capacity, the castle will collapse in on itself. There may be survivors. There may not.

Either way, the outcome should be hilarious.

Hastur does his best to stay below ground through the entirety of December when he can, avoids large cities entirely, but this meeting couldn’t wait.

Hastur stops a few feet from Crowley. On the whole, he tries not to get too close to him, especially since the bastard did set him on fire.

And after what he did to poor Ligur.

Why Beelzebub decided to give him clemency, along with another fucking chance, Hastur will never understand. But Crowley was a favorite in Hell once. Orchestrate a few wars, pull off a few inquisitions, mess with the construction of a highway, and you can get away with anything apparently.

Hastur looks Crowley over, baffled as to what the flashy asshole is wearing. He’s gone native. That’s generally understood. So nothing he does should surprise Hastur anymore. On the off chance Beelzebub doesn’t have anything ulterior planned for Crowley (along the lines of his utter extermination), Hastur should probably start giving Crowley the benefit of the doubt. He’d agreed to this meeting, for one. Showed up early even. That proves he’s making an effort, right? A demon who can withstand Holy Water doesn’t really need to worry about playing by the rules so the fact that he’s toeing the line should account for something.

Maybe Hastur doesn’t care too much about fitting in with the humans, but that doesn’t mean Crowley’s efforts to blend in aren’t, in some way, rooted in Evil. Maybe that coat of his is Evil, made from some critically endangered bird, like a giant ibis or a California condor, and constructed by child slave labor in Indonesia.

But the closer Hastur gets, the more disappointed he becomes because no, it’s not.

What Hastur thought was a coat is Crowley’s wings, wrapped completely around his body, gleaming like black ice in the dark, more than likely the product of thrice a day grooming or something else equally and ridiculously vain.

“What’s with the wings?” Hastur asks, gesturing to Crowley’s body. The feathers shift and adjust upon mention, as if trying to contain the whole of Crowley’s corporal form from escaping.

“I’m chilly,” Crowley replies, his voice tight. “Mmmph. You hate my clothes anyway. What do you care?”

Hastur stares at his colleague. Crowley is using a great deal of strength to remain impassive, indifferent, stoic, but Hastur can see the struggle on his face – a pain simmering beneath his skin like the dormant claws of his demon self shredding a path to the surface, longing to break free.

Crowley breathes in sharply, rolls his shoulders back together, then one at a time as if trying to relieve an itch without scratching it.

He used to be a snake, Hastur reminds himself. Perhaps he’s shedding.

Hastur shrugs.

“I don’t,” he concludes.

“Great. Ngk. Now that we have that settled, can we please continue? I have places I need to be, you know.”

“What do you have to report? And it’d better be good.”

“Well, I … mmph …” Crowley’s feathers shift again, trembling as if they’re deliberating between staying fixed to his body or falling off.

Maybe Hastur was a bit off the mark. Maybe Crowley isn’t shedding. Maybe he’s molting.

The image that brings to Hastur’s head of this preening peacock losing his precious feathers and looking like a plucked chicken almost makes Hastur smile.

“Well you what?”

“I’ve been working in secret. Uh … uh … undercover as it were. It’s not been long since the whole execution thing, has it? You lot still have operatives on Earth who’ve decided there must be a price on my head.”

At that, Hastur does smile. Whether or not that was his doing is entirely irrelevant.

But yeah, he did that.

“Fine. You’ll get more time. And the angel?”

“Wh---what about the angel?” Crowley stutters as if he’s about to sneeze.

“We’ve heard from our informants that the two of you are now … living together?” Hastur grimaces, the taste those words bring to his mouth vile, even by demon standards.

“Yes, I’m living with him!” Crowley snaps, but then relaxes a little, head lolling back on his shoulders, shielded eyes aimed at the sky. “That’s how I gain his trust … get him to put his guard down.”

“And how is that working out for you, eh?”

For the first time during this whole meeting, Crowley grins. “I’ve got him right where I want him.”

Crowley’s wings around the middle bulge out, then up. They shudder violently, then smooth back into place. He swallows hard, a complicated look clouding his expression. He makes an odd sound, like a whimper. Hastur frowns.

“What the Heaven is wrong with you?”

“Like I said … ngk … I’m cold.”

“You’re a demon! You don’t get cold!” Hastur watches, stares intensely at Crowley’s face contorting, his body undulating beneath his cloak of feathers but only subtly as he forces himself to fight it, and suddenly it all becomes clear. “I know what’s going on …”

Crowley’s yellow eyes meet Hastur’s. For a moment, he looks ominously surprised and terrified. “Y-you … you do?”

“Yes,” Hastur hisses with glee. “Your façade is slipping!”

“That’s … uh … mmph … one way of putting it, I guess.”

“Take this as a sign, brother! Forgo your human shell and let your demon side out! Come back to us as the full expression of yourself and take your rightful place in Hell!”

“You make a convincing argument. I … uh … will definitely consider that … ah!” Crowley doubles over, breathing heavily, shaking as if every maggot beneath his flesh has finally had their fill of being trapped and is growing fangs.

“You do that,” Hastur says, so certain of himself, he wants to add this development to his report for the day. But no, he won’t tell Beelzebub about it just yet. He’ll wait until Crowley arrives, strolling down to Hell in his glorious demon form – grey skin, yellow teeth, leather wings, possibly even holding an angel’s head in his grasp. “See you soon, Crawly. Good to have you back.”

“Uh … right …” Crowley pants into the dirt, bowed so low that the sputtering remains of his breath moves the tips of the grass.

Between Crowley’s heaving breaths and Hastur’s footsteps fading in the sod, a soft voice mutters. “Is he gone?”

“Give it a second, love, a’right?” Crowley whispers, his brain melting into a mixture of anxiety and ecstasy, swirling about the rim of a large, cosmic drain. “That was a dirty trick, by the way. Do you know how much power it takes to shield you from their notice, and then you go and pull something like that?”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah. You sound it.”

When Crowley feels Hastur leave, burrow through the ground and so far beneath the earth that something like a holy signature materializing in Crowley’s personal space wouldn’t be noticed, he opens his wings so he can give a hard, scolding look to the angel on his knees at his feet.

“Just thought I’d lend a helping hand,” Aziraphale says sweetly, licking his lips. “Or a helping mouth in this case.”

“Help with what?” Crowley reaches down trembling hands to slip his spent cock back into his jeans.

“Letting your demon side out.”

“Yes, well, you keep helping like that and you’re going to get me discorporated.” Crowley takes Aziraphale by the upper arms and helps him to his feet, but for all his fuss and bluster, there’s no mistaking the grin on Crowley’s face.

“Like you’re always saying, my dear - if you’re going to go … go in style!”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #12 days of blasphemy #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #Frankie writes

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 4 years

Photo

20th January >> Mass Readings (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Monday, Second Week in Ordinary Time

Saint Fabian, Pope, Martyr

Saint Sebastian, Martyr.

Monday, Second Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading

1 Samuel 15:16-23

Saul disobeys the Lord and the Lord rejects him

Samuel said to Saul, ‘Stop! Let me tell you what the Lord said to me last night.’ Saul said, ‘Tell me.’ Samuel continued, ‘Small as you may be in your own eyes, are you not head of the tribes of Israel? The Lord has anointed you king over Israel. The Lord sent you on a mission and said to you, “Go, put these sinners, the Amalekites, under the ban and make war on them until they are exterminated.” Why then did you not obey the voice of the Lord? Why did you fall on the booty and do what is displeasing to the Lord?’ Saul replied to Samuel, ‘But I did obey the voice of the Lord. I went on the mission which the Lord gave me; I brought back Agag king of the Amalekites; I put the Amalekites under the ban. From the booty the people took the best sheep and oxen of what was under the ban to sacrifice them to the Lord your God in Gilgal.’ But Samuel replied:

‘Is the pleasure of the Lord in holocausts and sacrifices

or in obedience to the voice of the Lord?

Yes, obedience is better than sacrifice,

submissiveness better than the fat of rams.

Rebellion is a sin of sorcery,

presumption a crime of teraphim.

‘Since you have rejected the word of the Lord, he has rejected you as king.’

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be top God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 49(50):8-9,16-17,21,23

R/ I will show God’s salvation to the upright.

‘I find no fault with your sacrifices,

your offerings are always before me.

I do not ask more bullocks from your farms,

nor goats from among your herds.

R/ I will show God’s salvation to the upright.

‘But how can you recite my commandments

and take my covenant on your lips,

you who despise my law

and throw my words to the winds,

R/ I will show God’s salvation to the upright.

‘You do this, and should I keep silence?

Do you think that I am like you?

A sacrifice of thanksgiving honours me

and I will show God’s salvation to the upright.’

R/ I will show God’s salvation to the upright.

Gospel Acclamation

cf. 1 Thessalonians 2:13

Alleluia, alleluia!

Accept God’s message for what it really is:

God’s message, and not some human thinking.

Alleluia!

Or:

Hebrews 4:12

Alleluia, alleluia!

The word of God is something alive and active:

it can judge secret emotions and thoughts.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Mark 2:18-22

'Why do your disciples not fast?'

One day when John’s disciples and the Pharisees were fasting, some people came to Jesus and said to him, ‘Why is it that John’s disciples and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not?’ Jesus replied, ‘Surely the bridegroom’s attendants would never think of fasting while the bridegroom is still with them? As long as they have the bridegroom with them, they could not think of fasting. But the time will come for the bridegroom to be taken away from them, and then, on that day, they will fast. No one sews a piece of unshrunken cloth on an old cloak; if he does, the patch pulls away from it, the new from the old, and the tear gets worse. And nobody puts new wine into old wineskins; if he does, the wine will burst the skins, and the wine is lost and the skins too. No! New wine, fresh skins!’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

————————

Saint Fabian, Pope, Martyr

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

1 Peter 5:1-4

Watch over the flock, not simply as a duty but gladly

Now I have something to tell your elders: I am an elder myself, and a witness to the sufferings of Christ, and with you I have a share in the glory that is to be revealed. Be the shepherds of the flock of God that is entrusted to you: watch over it, not simply as a duty but gladly, because God wants it; not for sordid money, but because you are eager to do it. Never be a dictator over any group that is put in your charge, but be an example that the whole flock can follow. When the chief shepherd appears, you will be given the crown of unfading glory.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 39(40):2,4,7-10

Here I am, Lord! I come to do your will.

I waited, I waited for the Lord

and he stooped down to me;

he heard my cry.

He put a new song into my mouth,

praise of our God.

Here I am, Lord! I come to do your will.

You do not ask for sacrifice and offerings,

but an open ear.

You do not ask for holocaust and victim.

Instead, here am I.

Here I am, Lord! I come to do your will.

In the scroll of the book it stands written

that I should do your will.

My God, I delight in your law

in the depth of my heart.

Here I am, Lord! I come to do your will.

Your justice I have proclaimed

in the great assembly.

My lips I have not sealed;

you know it, O Lord.

Here I am, Lord! I come to do your will.

Gospel Acclamation

Jn10:14

Alleluia, alleluia!

I am the good shepherd, says the Lord;

I know my own sheep and my own know me.

Alleluia!

Gospel

John 21:15-17

Feed my lambs, feed my sheep

Jesus showed himself to his disciples, and after they had eaten he said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others do?’ He answered, ‘Yes Lord, you know I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ He replied, ‘Yes, Lord, you know I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Look after my sheep.’ Then he said to him a third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ Peter was upset that he asked him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ and said, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep.’

————————

Saint Sebastian, Martyr

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

1 Peter 3:14-17

If it is the will of God that you should suffer, it is better to suffer for doing right

If you have to suffer for being good, you will count it a blessing. There is no need to be afraid or to worry about persecutors. Simply reverence the Lord Christ in your hearts, and always have your answer ready for people who ask you the reason for the hope that you all have. But give it with courtesy and respect and with a clear conscience, so that those who slander you when you are living a good life in Christ may be proved wrong in the accusations that they bring. And if it is the will of God that you should suffer, it is better to suffer for doing right than for doing wrong.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 33(34):2-9