#sinless sinners
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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 5
Chapter 5 - Stories and Dolls
A/N – Okay, so I just quit my job and I’m freefalling right now. Time to channel my anxiety into fanfiction. Also, this chapter is darker so I’m raising the rating to M.
Warnings – MENTIONS OF RAPE, S/A, ABUSE, KIDNAPPING, AND TORTURE.
Rating – M
TAG-LIST: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe @koirb @usernameunavailable2 @lavenderkita @kannakanan @mcueveryday @amarokofficial @mbruben-stein @tyrythewolf @lasagna-501 @bizzardvark @firefirefeline @kaylanotkk @missme-07 @memontica @angelsdemonsmonsters @tj4shy
MALE VERSION HERE
GN VERSION HERE
Lucifer had to admit, he was getting used to you. He enjoyed making breakfast a show in the morning, entertaining you with his parlour tricks and general showmanship. You were like a child, easily amused by flashing lights or some sleight of hand.
And of a night, he also found your company less than objectionable, whether you were reading a book in the library with Spick and Span curled up at your feet, in front of a roaring fire (you had conjured them medallions with their names on them, so as to tell them apart), or those nights when you came back from visiting the hotel and regaled him with the tales of its inhabitants. Lucifer was starting to like Angel Dust, even if he didn’t believe the porn star actually had a chance at redemption. Nifty also seemed entertaining, Husk could be a source of wisdom and comfort in equal measure, and Alastair… Well, he was there too, taking up too much of your attention.
Yet, despite his newfound almost-friendship with you, he couldn’t help thinking about what you had said on your first night in the manor.
‘You don’t even know why I’m down here, and you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same.’
You were right. He didn’t know why you were there, and that was driving him crazy. He wanted to like you. Truly, he did. But how could he like you when he didn’t know your sin? People got sent to Hell for a reason! They wasted their free will. They sold drugs to kids, murdered people, trafficked victims, tricked and swindled others. For all Lucifer knew, you were there for drowning puppies.
The thought made him deeply uncomfortable.
Okay. He would ask you about it. No big deal. People probably talked about why they went to Hell a lot right? That was a normal conversation for Sinners, probably…
Lucifer wasn’t entirely wrong in thinking that. However, nearly all Sinners lied about what they went to Hell for, making it even more brutal or horrifying to try and earn some extra credit among their fellow Demons. Someone who had killed one person would claim to have been a serial killer. A low-life drug dealer would paint themselves as a mafioso with a drug empire, and arsonists… They didn’t have to lie much, as fires tended to spread quickly and they generally were as psychotic as they claimed to be.
It was all basic self-preservation in Hell. Be the toughest person there, so nobody could find new ways to hurt you. Kill or be killed (figuratively, since Demons couldn’t technically kill other Demons), sink or swim, do unto others before they did unto you.
Right. When Lucifer next saw you, he would ask.
“Hey Lucifer,” You said upon returning to the manor from the Hotel, “You doing okay?”
Lucifer froze. He hadn’t expected to see you so soon. Fuck.
“Hey bitch,” Lucifer greeted, feeling entirely awkward, yet trying to feign confidence.
“Uh… Back at ya,” You reciprocated confusedly.
“Sooooo,” Lucifer started, steepling his fingers together, and holding them to his mouth, his brow knitting together worriedly, “I have a question for you.”
“Oh.” You were surprised by Lucifer’s admission. While the two of you generally made conversation, he didn’t tend to ask too much. Besides, in the preface of announcing his question, it seemed that he was likely to ask you something personal.
You waved your hand casually, indicating that he was free to ask away.
“How- Uh how was everything at the Hotel? Is my little girl doing okay?”
As you smiled and fell into a description of how Charlie was doing and her general excitement about her meeting with Heaven, Lucifer cursed himself. He knew that what he wanted to ask was important, but it was just so personal. Well, at least he was happy to hear about his daughter. There were also some other colourful stories included in your conversation.
Finally, you wrapped up the conversation, effectively ending it when you casually said, “Anyway, I’m going to get ready for bed. I’m real tired, you know?”
Lucifer didn’t say much as you left, he was still pondering whether you might be a puppy killer or relative and accomplice to that Jeffrey Dahmer fellow, or something equally disturbing. If not… Why were you there?
Having gotten ready for bed, you sighed, letting the day’s events wash over you, lifting a weight off your shoulders. You were tired, but the day had been a good productive one. Moreover, it was nice to end the day by standing out on the balcony, overlooking the rest of Hell.
There was a time when you had died, during which you stood atop a building in the main streets watching all the fights, looting, and maiming, and you were horrified. Then, you met Charlie, and she had been so wonderfully pure, good, and non-judgemental that you had to agree with her. Hell could be a home to you, and all the other Sinners who lived there, and Sinners could always change for the better.
While you held onto the balcony railing, leaning over it, and staring at the red horizon, Lucifer approached your open door at the entrance of your room, knocking despite the open invitation to come in.
You turned and smiled at him, your smile putting him at ease.
“Come in,” You offered.
He did so, crossing the large room and taking quick mental notes of the changes you had made. They were minor, but they spoke of your personality. You had lit scented candles, brightening the room – the official scent name was Tapioca Tit-play.
Subconsciously, Lucifer worked his magic to remove the off-smell that he had placed there; it was redundant when your candles covered it, and he didn’t mind your company so much anymore.
He also observed several other items. There was a photograph of everyone at the Hotel, though you had drawn Alastor on the end in crayon since he didn’t love to be captured in photographs (he could bear it unlike being filmed, but he didn’t care much for it.)
Wrapped around your bedposts were nightlights to keep out the dark. On your bed, you had a teddy of one of Sir Pentious’ egg-bois, a gift from him. Husk had gifted you with a bottle of his best Whiskey, though it remained unopened on the nightstand. There was a cockroach/daisy hybrid necklace wrapped around a book. The candles were from Angel Dust. Beneath your pillow was a dagger, gifted by Vaggie, for your protection. Alastor had given you a collection of books from the store in Cannibal Town, including several that were rumoured to have been stolen from Heaven’s library, though nobody was certain where that rumour started or if it was even true, though there were no copies of the books anywhere else in Hell.
Although Lucifer had no way of knowing these items were all presents from your friends at the Hazbin Hotel, he could tell that you cared deeply for the odd assortment by their placement on the two bedside tables; they had been positioned with care, and were well looked after.
Then, his eye caught the rubber duck, slightly hidden behind the picture frame. He remembered making that one. As a hellhound imitation, it was meant to teleport to whoever needed it most inside the Manor, offering protection should they come under attack. Naturally, he and his family didn’t need such protection, but he had been experimenting with what powers he might imbue unto yet another duck.
He decided not to mention it as he joined you on the balcony, looking you over in your pyjamas.
You also spared him a glance, noting that he seemed more relaxed. Although he was still in his usual attire, he had removed his top-hat-crown and his overcoat, revealing the waistcoat and shirt beneath; the sleeves were rolled up, giving him a more casual appearance.
“Hell’s skies are beautiful, aren’t they,” You stated, returning your gaze to the horizon.
Lucifer looked up, but all he saw was Heaven, the home that didn’t want him.
“(Y/N),” He started, forcing himself to look down, so he wouldn’t have to stare at the painfully beautiful golden glow above.
“Hm?”
“How did you end up here?”
Your grip tightened on the railing drawing Lucifer’s gaze to the whites of your knuckles.
Your whole body became tense and you answered with a ragged breath, “I died.”
“Yes but-” Lucifer was about to lead into the question of your sins, but you spoke up again, seemingly misunderstanding the question as you continued, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.
“I was- I was murdered.”
Lucifer could have explained that the cause of your death wasn’t what he had been driving at, but now he was darkly fascinated. If you were the same kind-hearted, warm person in life, why would anyone wish to bring about your death?
He remained silent as you began recounting the manner in which you had been killed.
“I had a friend,” You started slowly, taking steady breaths between each part of the story that followed as if it would make it any easier. “I mean- I- I thought he was my friend. I loved him. He knew that. He counted on it.”
“I thought that he travelled for work. That’s what he told me. It’s why he was always coming and going. But no… He was just looking for more people like me. He found people. Made us fall for him. Then he- he took me out on a date. Blindfolded me. Said it was a surprise. I- I trusted him, but the blindfold just made it easier for him to- He knocked me out.”
You subconsciously touched the back of your head, remembering the blow that had come with no warning.
Lucifer turned to you, one hand holding onto the railing, the other planted firmly at his side.
“Did he-” He started to ask.
You shook your head. “It wasn’t rape. It was worse.”
You shivered, waiting until you were certain you weren’t going to vomit. Then you continued, your skin ashy.
“I woke up in a- It was like a cinderblock cell, but it had been sort of decorated to look like a fancy suite?”
You recalled the room. It was damp, and the floor was cheaply produced concrete, given away by the amount of air bubbles which had never been levelled and now pocked the surface, like a teenager with bad acne. The cinderblock walls were easy to see, though some talented artist had been paid to paint it with the likeness of the Ritz hotel or somewhere equally fancy. While that had made it look better, it was still clearly a cinderblock wall; then again, you can’t polish a turd, but you can roll it in glitter.
You had been handcuffed to a chair in the centre of the room. Your clothes had been taken, and you had been dressed in a skimpy shortened tuxedo, with a fitted vest instead of a jacket. You remembered screaming till your voice was raw. You screamed so much that you ended up spitting flecks of blood, but nobody came to save you.
“I- I was tied up,” You said simply, downplaying the memory to Lucifer, more for your own sake than his, though he could see the pain behind your eyes.
Lucifer didn’t interrupt your story, but his anger was growing. Behind him his tail lashed furiously, his eyes became flaming red, and his fangs became sharper. You hadn’t noticed, you were lost in memory, and you had yet to look his way since beginning your story.
You sighed, thinking of the torture, humiliation, and suffering which followed, all at the hands of one man. It wasn’t your captor. It was who he had sold you to.
“It- I was- They were making snuff films. I don’t know how many people died there before or after me but- I was sold to an American. He- He liked to cut things. It was a while before- I don’t know if I bled out, or if my heart stopped, maybe both?”
For the first time, your skin changed colour, turning from your regular human shade to a pale seaweed-green. Against the colourful backdrop, Lucifer could see your now blinding white glowing scars. Upon your death they remained hidden, completely invisible, but now you were distressed… You seemingly did have something of a Demonic appearance after all.
You were a ragdoll.
There wasn’t a part of your body that hadn’t been cut, or originally sliced off, only to be repaired in death. In all likelihood, your real body was probably burned, buried, or dissolved in acid. In Hell, your scars were the stitches that held your body together. Lucifer now understood your human appearance since like a real ragdoll, you were good at playing dress-up. He bet that if you explored your abilities, you would have been able to look like anyone, a skin-changer, but you had adopted your appearance in life; it was likely an accident caused by the trauma of your memories.
“(Y/N),” Lucifer said through gritted teeth. He wanted to be comforting, but he was already thinking of all the ways he would punish your killer and any accomplice he may have had. There were worse things than Death in hell; he would torture those bastards for eternity, and then when he finally grew bored, he would end them with angelic weaponry, wiping their souls from existence, leaving no trace of such monsters.
You didn’t turn to face your King, who was now in his full Demonic form, his rage at its peak.
“Just go,” You murmured despondently, staring over the balcony, and down to the ground. A long drop and a short stop… It was a shame it wouldn’t kill you; at least the pain would end if you died.
“But-” Lucifer reached you to put a hand on your shoulder, his wings almost curling around you as if to envelop you.
“I- I would like to be alone. Please.”
Lucifer hesitantly withdrew his hand, “I’m sorry.”
That was all he said before walking away, leaving you alone.
You wished that you could have been left to wallow, but your phone soon buzzed and you opted to check it in case it was an emergency.
Retrieving it from the bed, you found a message from Charlie.
“EMERGENCY. ANGEL DUST. RELAPSE. GET OVER HERE. PLEASE!”
Damn it! If Charlie was texting you for this, it meant that Husk was either the cause or he wasn’t around to be the solution. Moreover, while Charlie would want to assist her friend, she was likely the last person Angel Dust wanted to see; sometimes, though she was well-intentioned, she just didn’t understand such issues or she could be a bit much.
Still stuck in your ragdoll body, you ran back to the balcony and vaulted over the edge. It wasn’t a smooth landing, and it hurt a lot. Anyone else would have broken their bones, but when you were like this, there wasn’t anything else that could be broken. Everything had already been torn off you. Ignoring the pain, you ran until you found a taxi. You took it to the Hotel.
#fanfiction#reader#reader insert#fanfic#lucifer morningstar#lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin hotel x reader#charlie morningstar#lucifer magne#lucifer magne x reader#hazbin hotel#hellaverse#sinless sinners#female reader#fem reader#chapter 5#part 5#stories and dolls
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Shiki is fr everything, androgynous but non mistakably female character that's also sadistic but with Morals who's also extremely badass and wields a knife and wears a leather jacket ontop of a kimono and has incredibly op super power of seeing the LINES OF DEATH OF ALL BEINGS AND THINGS EVEN CONCEPTS but it's not cringy or too much it somehow got executed Perfectly. like. She's if a 12 year old tried to come up with a badass character and IT WORKED PERFECTLY. Her eyes light up and she can insta kill anything ?? Literally deviant art oc tier but somehow it works and it's amazing. She's so cool.
#reading the novel and reading her high of getting to kill people and stab them and play with them but never actually killing them bc#of murder being at the end of the day a huge sin is aaaaaaannejhb n!nend IDK WHY I LIKE THAT CONCEPT SM#like i always like everything edgy and sadistic and violent ngl so like. Its intresting to see the same sadism except portrayed#Realistically. Like oh yeah theres Police and jail and also murder is a super huge sin and a bad thing !!!!#but also The Impluses.#like she already has that dual.. tri .. personality ?? girl has twitter DID levels of personality disorder but despite all she still wants#to be normal and good#like she geniunely just wants to be normal because if she did give in her impulses nothing will come out of it and she will feel bad bc#she commited a huge sin. So its just constantly fighting with the 'need to kill!!! murder!!!' urges and with The Morals#MAN. man.#ok spoilers incoming#i love how she never actually murdered anyone all along but that doesnt make her normal still because she still played with the corpses#afterwards and she still enjoys hurting others#but she never did commit any murder .. its that Boundary between not a sinner and a sinner that she's constantly in#another title for the series is 'Boundary of emptiness' and. Yeah#im gonna be honest i didnt understand anything of the after ending extra that explained void shiki and i dont get the stuff about emptiness#but i understand the yin and yang metaphors and. themes. I understand the themes and narratives!!!#at the very end she did kill someone but its as a no fault as a murder can be. like completely sinless bc that was in self defence and#who she murdered was a huge murderer and stalker and to be rapist anyways so at the end. all is well <3#she also did have a normal life as can be atleast. she 😿😿😿😿😿😿😿 married m*kiya and ended up being a m*ther which. i might. yknow.#almost gave the entire series a 4/10 for but its whatever. ive moved on. shes happy and thats what matters ( extereme copium ) ( God i HATE#MIKIYA )#ASIDE FROM THAT SHE DID BECOME A MASSIVE YAKUZA BOSS AND SO YKNOW WHAT ITS fine its fine i loved the extras 😹😹😹😹 ( denial )#THIS GOT WAY TOO LONG AND RAMBLY SORRY. ANYWAYS CONCLUSION I LOVE SHIKI BEST CHARACTER EVER
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May, 30 (Morning) Devotion
“Take us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines.”
Song of Solomon 2:15
A little thorn may cause much suffering. A little cloud may hide the sun. Little foxes spoil the vines; and little sins do mischief to the tender heart. These little sins burrow in the soul, and make it so full of that which is hateful to Christ, that he will hold no comfortable fellowship and communion with us. A great sin cannot destroy a Christian, but a little sin can make him miserable. Jesus will not walk with his people unless they drive out every known sin. He says, “If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love, even as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love.” Some Christians very seldom enjoy their Saviour’s presence. How is this? Surely it must be an affliction for a tender child to be separated from his father. Art thou a child of God, and yet satisfied to go on without seeing thy Father’s face? What! thou the spouse of Christ, and yet content without his company! Surely, thou hast fallen into a sad state, for the chaste spouse of Christ mourns like a dove without her mate, when he has left her. Ask, then, the question, what has driven Christ from thee? He hides his face behind the wall of thy sins. That wall may be built up of little pebbles, as easily as of great stones. The sea is made of drops; the rocks are made of grains: and the sea which divides thee from Christ may be filled with the drops of thy little sins; and the rock which has well nigh wrecked thy barque, may have been made by the daily working of the coral insects of thy little sins. If thou wouldst live with Christ, and walk with Christ, and see Christ, and have fellowship with Christ, take heed of “the little foxes that spoil the vines, for our vines have tender grapes.” Jesus invites you to go with him and take them. He will surely, like Samson, take the foxes at once and easily. Go with him to the hunting.
Daily Bible and Devotional for Women - http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=daily.bible.for.woman
#God#Jesus#christianity#faith#sin#wickedness#hate all sin#all you own is your sin#sinner#i am a sinner#relationship with God#no sin is justified#no such thing as a small sin#resist all sin#avoid all sin#all sin is equal#destroying your relationship with God#sin devours#you must be sinless#you must be perfect in Christ#purify my soul#purge me of sin#spend time with God#closer to God#God's presence#cling to God#be sinless#be perfect for God#devotional#bible verse
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You know what.... guardian angel yan!Sunday.
Always accompanies you everywhere. A gentle hand on your shoulder, eyes constantly scanning the crowd, eyebrows knitted from concentration, as he searches for threats, maybe even familiar faces. Wings sometimes flutter on your arm, alerting you to stay cautious, instantly covering your eyes if something goes awry. Sometimes you can see the other eyes, peering down at you from his halo.
The moment he senses danger, he gives you a sharp look. Close your eyes, and leave it to him. And for the next few minutes, pretend you don't see. Pretend you don't hear. Cover your eyes if you must. Do not glance at his bloodstained wings once he tells you to open your eyes. Look into his eyes. His glowing, golden eyes that pierce through you, and every sinner who dares to harm you.
He swears he's just doing his job. Just let him take you everywhere. No, he's not the reason that strange man scurried away after talking to you. No, the crowd can't see him. No, no one dares to look at you – not when he stands close behind you, eyes judging every soul who dares to meet them. You still can't shake off the feeling of being targeted. You saw something in your changing room out of the corner of your eye? Hm? Oh, no, it wasn't him. Surely, he can respect your privacy a little bit?
At night, he insists he doesn't need rest. No, no, dear – his job is to protect you. He needs to protect you. You can sleep soundly, and let him sit on the edge of your malleable bed, humming you to sleep. Don't worry, you didn't see anything. You feel something stare at you? It must have been one of his many eyes on his halo fixating on you. Curious little things, dont mind them.
And unfortunately for you, his obsession only seems to be growing. It gets lonely, you know? And you're his absolute weakness. The concern in your voice when you ask him if he's hurt, the worrying over at any scratches he might have (rarely, if at all. He lets you worry over him, anyway). Oh dear.. your pretty, glistening eyes under the moon, your cute face thats all knotted up in confusion and worry..
He can't help it. You are intoxicating. No matter how stained or unstained you are, how sinless or sinful you are.. he adores something about you. The way your chest rises and falls, the predatory gleam in his eyes when your form is completely vulnerable behind him.. oh, dear.. he has to protect a trusting thing like you. But, oh, dear.. who will protect you from him?
Do not see. Do not hear. Don't mind the gloved hand that rubs your wrist, don't mind the whispering of his voice into your ears, daring you to see, daring you to respond.. he'll take care of this. And he'll take so much better care of you. Just.. don't struggle when his grip hardens a bit on your wrist. Don't worry when you feel his lips ghost your neck. Don't worry at all.
#moonink#hsr#honkai star rail#hsr sunday#honkai star rail sunday#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr x you#hsr sunday x reader#yandere honkai star rail#yandere hsr sunday#yandere hsr x you#yandere hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail x reader#yandere sunday x you#yandere sunday x reader#yandere sunday#sunday hsr#sunday x reader#yandere hsr#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x y/n
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I saw that your request box is open and I've been wanting to ask
can I request platonic! Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor and Lucifer coming across a child fem! reader after she bumped into them and falling onto the sidewalk and start profusely apologizing for accidentally into them while looking incredibly scared and frightened just then they realized that the child had black wings and seeing that they are wearing a white dress that only angels would wear and fairly realized the reader was a fallen angel soon when taken to the hotel and ask how did she ended up in hell, the reader first looked very hesitant to explain but slowly open up about how they were casted out of heaven for not following the strict rules properly and that the higher upside expected angels to be perfect and flawless that no mistakes should be made even minor ones and child fem! reader felt incredibly pressured and anxious about the needs to be perfect that when she accidentally fall out of line for making a minor mistake, she was unfairly casted out into hell and why her once white wings turned black no longer able to fly to heaven's gates and aimlessly wondering the streets of pentagram city lost and scared not knowing what to do or where to go now as well as avoiding sinners and overlords alike
Platonic headcanons Not perfect
🌈 Charlie Morningstar x child fem!Reader 🎶
After Charlie visited Heaven, she began to look at angels differently. She understood that not all of them were sinless and just. That's why she was surprised when she came across a child, a girl dressed in a white dress similar to those worn on Heaven and you had wings, but the feathers were not white but black. You immediately started apologizing to her, but Charlie hastened to calm you down. You looked tired, so she suggested that you go with her to her hotel, where you could relax and where you would be safe
At the hotel, you were able to eat properly and calm down. It was only after that that Charlie asked you about how you ended up in Hell. At first you didn't dare to start the story, but Charlie gently took your hands and told you that you had nothing to fear and that she just wanted to help you. You got a little bolder and told her that, despite the external ideality and happiness, there were many strict rules and requirements for angels like you in Heaven. You all had to follow these rules implicitly, as if you had no will of your own. For you, such a life has been one huge source of stress and anxiety
In the end, you made a mistake. One minor mistake cost you everything. You were banished from Heaven and your wings turned black and you couldn't come back. All this time you've been wandering the streets aimlessly, trying not to attract attention to yourself. Charlie couldn't believe that you could be treated so cruelly, but she remembered her father's story. She understood that your story was the real truth
Since you had nowhere to go, Charlie suggested that you stay at the hotel. You were an angel and now you could help sinners atone for their sins. Charlie hoped that then Emily could bring you back to Heaven, because you were sent to Hell unfairly. In the meantime, Charlie could give you a new home and a life where you didn't have to try your best to make no mistakes every day
❌ Vaggie x child fem!Reader 🎀
Vaggie didn't feel happy when she lived on Heaven. A huge number of rules, many of which were far from morally fair, and, as it turned out, severe punishments for what was considered a misdemeanor. She didn't know any other angels besides Lucifer and her who ended up in Hell until she ran into you on the street. You were a little girl in a white dress, with a scared expression on your face and black wings that clearly used to be white. You were an angel, a fallen angel
You started to apologize for bumping into her, but Vaggie tried to calm you down, saying that everything was fine. She asked how you got here, but you didn't say anything, just looked down. Your embarrassment only got worse when your stomach rumbled. Vaggie suggested that you go to the hotel where she lived, telling you that you could eat and relax there. She assured me that it would be safe there, so you went to the hotel with her
It was only back at the hotel, after you were able to eat properly, that you told her that you had been expelled from Heaven for a minor mistake. Vaggie remembered what the rules were there. She saw the sadness in your eyes, and told you that she, too, was, in a sense, banished. The fact that she was an angel made you happy, because now there was a chance that you wouldn't be alone anymore
You stayed at the hotel, under the care of Vaggie. She and Charlie took care of you and helped you start a new life. For you, Vaggie has become a living example of the fact that life does not end after exile. She was sure that you would be able to find your happiness, even though you were in Hell, and she would be there to keep you safe
🕷 Angel Dust x child fem!Reader 💖
Angel did not often see children in Hell, which is why when he ran into you on the street, he was surprised. You were a girl in a white dress and, strangely, with wings. The feathers of your wings were black, although according to Charlie, the angels had white wings, and there was a scared expression on your face. You immediately started apologizing to him. You were obviously afraid, and Angel hastened to calm you down. He wasn't mad at you and didn't know how to calm you down, so he offered to treat you to something delicious. It was so that you could eat that you went to the hotel
At the hotel, you were able to calm down and eat, after which Angel asked you how you ended up in Hell. He said that you didn't look like a sinner, but rather like an angel who happened to be in Hell. When you lowered your head, he realized that he was right. At first you were silent, but then quietly, uncertainly told him that you really were an angel, but life was hard for you in Heaven. The angels had to follow a huge number of rules. You were required to be perfect and set an example for souls to strive for the light. However, it has become a huge stress for you. Your whole life was full of worries, and in the end you made a small, insignificant mistake, for which you were severely punished
You were banished from Heaven, sent to Hell. Your wings turned black, and no matter how hard you tried to get back in, you couldn't do it. You just fell painfully, unable to return home. Angel listened to your story, feeling how sorry he was for you. You were just a child who was unfairly punished, especially so severely. He also understood that it would be difficult for you to survive in Hell, so he suggested that you stay at the hotel, telling you what kind of place it was and that he himself lived here
Angel has taken on the role of someone who will look out for you. Charlie was glad that Angel was getting better, and even more so she didn't mind you staying at the hotel. Angel may not have been the perfect person, but he was real, alive, and ready to help you stop trying to adjust to the ideal that was imposed on you, too. He wanted to help you start living freely
📻 Alastor x child fem!Reader 🎙
Alastor periodically strolled through the streets of the city. Many people were afraid of him and tried not to approach him, and so when a child crashed into him, Alastor was surprised by this. That child was you. You, dressed in a white dress and with black wings on your back, started hurriedly apologizing to him without raising your head. Alastor was in no hurry to say anything. He saw what was obvious. You were an angel, maybe a fallen angel, and it could have done him some good, so he asked if you were hungry, and then took you to the hotel
You were able to eat at the hotel, and only after that Alastor, who was looking at you carefully, asked how you ended up in Hell. At that moment, you froze, lowering your head and slowly starting to speak. It was only after a few minutes that you finally told me what happened. You told me that Heaven had a huge number of rules for angels. You were required to be perfect, but it was hard for you emotionally and eventually you made a mistake. A mistake that you paid very seriously for
You were banished to Hell and your wings turned black. You couldn't go back no matter how hard you tried. All you have to do is wander the streets of the city, hiding from sinners and demons. Alastor listened to you carefully and realized that it could benefit him. He did not voice his thoughts and offered to stay with you at the hotel. He introduced you to Charlie and soon you really became one of those who lived in the hotel
Alastor saw how pleased you were to meet Charlie and find yourself in a comfortable environment. The princess helped you and learned from you about what Heaven really was. Alastor understood that when you get stronger, your strength can help him gain freedom
🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x child fem!Reader 🐍
Lucifer rarely walked around the city, but after he started living in his daughter's hotel, he began to go out into the world more. It was during one of these walks that he met you. You were the kid who bumped into him. You immediately started apologizing and Lucifer tried to calm you down at first, but then realized that you weren't a sinner or a demon. He would have recognized the white dress and wings anywhere. You were an angel, but the feathers of your wings were black, which made it clear to him that you were a fallen angel, just like him. It caused him a lot of emotions. He couldn't leave you, knowing full well how you were feeling right now
He brought you to the hotel, realizing that you had nowhere to go. So that you wouldn't worry even more, he took you away from the others to his room and already there told you who he was. Lucifer saw how surprised you were, but it seemed to really calm you down. When he asked how you ended up in Hell, you briefly fell silent, lowering your head, but then hesitantly told him that after he was thrown into Hell, the requirements for angels became very strict. You, like other angels, were required to be perfect and follow what the seraphims said. It was hard for you to be perfect. Every day, within strict limits, almost drove you crazy
Due to severe stress, it was difficult for you to follow strict rules, and eventually you made a minor mistake, for which you were so severely punished by being banished to Hell. Your wings turned black and you couldn't fly to Heaven. It seemed that if you tried to do this, at some point your wings could burst into flames, causing you unbearable pain. You didn't have a home anymore. You didn't have anyone to help you. All you could do was wander aimlessly through the streets, doing your best to hide from sinners and demons
Lucifer listened attentively to your story and by the time it ended, he was sure that you had been unfairly sent to Hell. You didn't have the power that he had, and therefore you could easily get hurt. Lucifer didn't want you, a child who was so cruelly abandoned, to get hurt. He decided to take you under his care. He knew that you could become stronger and wanted to help you. Maybe in Hell, you can be happier than you were in Heaven
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel headcanons#Charlie Morningstar#Charlie Morningstar x Reader#Vaggie#Vaggie x Reader#Angel Dust#Angel Dust x Reader#Alastor#Alastor x Reader#Lucifer Morningstar#Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
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Michael, the Ruined Prince
Michael, having used all of his power to seek out God, had failed as the Prince of Heaven. He had abandoned his people, absent for centuries on a fruitless search filled with unheard, increasingly desperate prayers and an unrelenting, bone-deep exhaustion that is now permanent. His grief grew day by day, and an angel in isolation begins to wither, to warp – they must be with one another lest they twist into their extremes, retreating into their divine purpose until it becomes self-destructive parody. And Michael had already been scarred long ago by his role in banishing Lucifer, by God’s own ever-mounting wrath that ate away at the mercy he was meant to feel alongside it. Michael had already been insular, something had already pulled at the seams of his soul, and now centuries of failure consume him. He would return to Heaven with nothing for his people. Nothing for the siblings he swore to protect.
So his final thought in a deeply troubled mind urged him to try one last time. That if he could not find God, then he must bring God to himself. He must sin, he must beg for punishment, and then God will come to deliver it onto him. Just as He once did to Lucifer. It disgusted him, to think he had to debase himself to be as the sinners he held nothing but vile contempt for ever since he couldn’t cope with the guilt of the first fallen angels. But his prayers have failed, his days of weeping have failed, he moved Heaven, Earth, and all of Hell to come up with empty hands. Less than that. Not even a feeling. So Michael, even as a Cherub who could not, did everything he could to replicate his memories of when he had witnessed God Himself tear the light from His angels. Michael had seen it every time, it was he that had to bind any fallen angel that survived it to their place in Hell. He knew, implicitly, what the ritual was even if God seemed to enact it in one beautiful, elegant motion. And he did just that. Imperfect pantomiming, flawed execution, but the same ritual as best as Michael could copy it. All to himself.
But only God and the high Seraphim can sever an angel from their light.
His soul was rent from his body. His light was torn to shreds by his inexperienced hands. The agony that it screeched resounded all the way back to Heaven in unintelligible, muted whispers of nauseous grief no one could understand. Michael felt himself die, but it was incomplete. He was left in a corpse, a body destroyed and succumbing to all it meant but with him still inside of it. God did not come, and Michael was trapped a ruined body, bereft of a soul, of his light, giving way to rot and deterioration yet fully functional. He could do nothing but take this as a sign from God, one that he will not be punished no matter his crime for being such a loyal servant. Even as his body falls apart, as plants begin to burst from his remains, he believes himself to be blessed – see how he grows God’s garden. See how his crown remains pristine. He adorns his exposed bones with gems and finery, ostensibly as thanks to God for keeping him alive, keeping him sinless when he had so despised his impending fall from grace. But. Michael is, in the back of his mind, highly aware of what he’s become. He knows he is rotting, he knows he is in a dead body, he knows, somewhere, God had nothing to do with it. It was just a mistake, it was just his own foolishness with catastrophic consequence. He is more noxious than a fallen angel now, a botch job shambling numbly back to Heaven when he feels the death of Gabriel.
Upon his return, he largely attempts to hide the rot of his body, at least from the citizenry – he cannot hide it from Raphael or Uriel, nor does he try. To Michael, it proves his devotion, it shows God’s still present love for him, and it is a testimony to how he cannot fall, that he can never lose his place in Heaven. Raphael begs for him to be healed, Uriel pleads reason to him, but neither had ever been as strong as Michael and ultimately, he is their leader. No matter the state he returns in, he is the Prince of the Archangels and truthfully...they both fear him now. He is not the Michael they loved, not the one that had been quiet and stoic yet still loving in return. The Michael that would have done anything for them, that never wanted to lose another like he lost Lucifer. He commands them now to join him in binding Gabriel, his tangible grief the only thing that seems to be left of who he had once been.
Internally, Michael sees their fear, he feels the crushing guilt of Gabriel’s fall, he is violently ill with one true look at himself. He had gone wrong a long, long time ago, when he lost Lucifer, and now all of that was being made manifest, but he can’t face it. As flesh falls away, he covers it more and more with jewels as if that could hide the decay he can feel spreading night and day, the only thing he feels now. He must retreat into his purpose, he must not allow such devastating failure to be his legacy. So he turns on Gabriel. Gabriel, whose light had been severed. Who walks freely in an abandoned Hell. Who still has a living, breathing body. Michael’s vitriol toward the damned hones in on Gabriel, consumed with being sure he is left nailed to the lowest pit in Hell for his treachery. All the love he once had turns to hatred and in it, the other three can see that Michael has been left shattered, that nothing in him truly believes God made him this way. God’s most loyal, left to rot.
Additional information:
Michael now always exudes the Odor of Sanctity, but there is a distinct undertone of mold to it
The opalescent webbing that runs through his body is the angelic brain - normally it is iridescent and transparent with a strange glow, but Michael's is opaque and dull
Michael now prefers walking, something noted as unusual when he returned to Heaven, but it's simply due to the fact that his body has been left entirely numb and so it's difficult to maneuver in the air properly
He is very protective of his crown and dragon-skin bag, as they seem to be the only things left uncorrupted on him
#finally...michael but he Came Back Wrong#poor guy always had the angelic equivalent of depression/ptsd#but there was just no word for that in paradise#he really only talked with the other archangels#but he loved them. a whole lot. so he's super messed up about gabriel now#esp since he's obviously in a horrendous headspace at this point#if there's a good ending tho gabe's like 'well. the ferryman does just fine so!!!'#and raphael's 'we'll love you as a skeleton too!! :)'#michael: :\\\\#ultrakill#ultrakill oc#michael#gore cw#body horror cw#death cw#doodle tag#OH also his organs are based on sheep organs. more sheep-coding the angels#i just love the idea of them having viscera....but for WHAT....no one knows#but they got that jellyfish brain#sorry i went insane about him over the weekend lol#rise and fall au
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Rough Samuel Lafferty
Sinful Women
The Bible Camp is a place full of joy, fun, playing and praying before the meal. A place of happiness for the children of the Mormon community and a nice place for the adults to socialize.
However, sin had crept into the camp.
The sin of the flesh had taken root in one of the counselors. The young woman-of course Samuel knew, like Eve-she had fallen prey to evil, but it was only his job to take care of it, wasn't it? The sound of skin clapping could be heard behind the wood of the warden's hut. The two people involved in the act left the door unlocked at the thought that someone might come in and see them like this. She pressed against the table, her fingers scraping the wood again and again, making a crunching sound with each thrust from his side. ,,Shit-if someone could see you like this-fucking bitch," he said, and Samuel only got more excited at the thought that someone could see him like this and make her fuck harder. As his hand lay in her hair he pressed her head further onto the wood. Her moans and pleas were barely muffled as her lips turned red and puffy from his hard kisses after he pulled her off his cock. Her hair tangled from the blowjob she had given him just minutes before. ,,Fuck sucked my cock ah-so-so well," he whispered to her, pulling her up slightly by her hair and bending her body backwards. Her protests in the kiss were drowned out by the loud groans as her almost overstimulated pussy continued to be fucked by his cock. With each thrust he pushed her further, he had his sinner for himself. Since they were here he wanted her and needed her the first few times he fisted his cock at night, her image bending down in his head to show him that she was wearing only a thong under her skirt in such a holy camp. The way her breasts bulged so beautifully under her blouse, which had previously been an assumption, he now knew that her breasts were not only soft but just as sensitive. When he pinched her nipples, she almost cried out if he hadn't pulled her into another kiss. Tears in her eyes of lust and pain the perfect picture. His whore. ,,You're the fucking devil," he murmured, biting into her neck lightly yet mercifully, tasting her, tasting the salty sweat that covered them both, feeling her rapid heartbeat that drove him mad as she tightened around him when he let her back onto the table. ,,N-no, I-I-" she tried to defend herself, her fruit of the gods looking cute, but her words were lost in a slurred mumble as he continued to fuck her. His hand was painfully sweet on her hip, leaving marks that would remain for days. The kisses would stay on her skin, he would stay inside her all summer long. The thought that he would fuck her all summer long over and over again. ,,I'll make you all mine," he whispered his thoughts to her and was just about to come inside her again when a knock on the door made her pause. His whore gave him a panicked look but he would definitely not stop now. He hadn't cleared up her sin for a long time so he should just tell her what was going on. She bit her lip and he put his hand around her mouth, suppressing her sweet sounds. The sinful noises were probably just his imagination. Wasn't it? Because the good and sinless leader would never indulge in carnal pleasure, would he?
~~~~~~~~~~
@thatsthewrongwallcraig , @roryculkinsgf , @rl-nancyholbrook , @madamemaximoff06 , @oceansrose2002 , @spookyorchid , @angelsanarchy , @unforgettable444
masterlist
#under the banner of heaven#utboh#rory culkin#samuel lafferty#samuel lafferty x reader#under the banner of heaven samuel
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Fyodor Analysis (Flowers)
Analysing THIS scene.
This scene from the season 4 intro featuring Fyodor is, blankly, flowers. But after obsessing over flower symbolism lately ( as an amateur, spare me), I figured that it would be fun to look into the meaning of flowers. This very unoriginal idea was probably done before but whatever.
Blue roses:
Blue roses symbolise secrecy and mystery, which, undoubtedly, suits Fyodor. So, moving on (help I suck at analyses it's a miracle I got an attainment badge for English).
Lily of the Valley:
Lily of the Valley symbolises purity, joy, love, sincerity, happiness and luck (Yes, I copied it from Google) But one interesting thing is that it even has connections with the Bible.
Song of Solomon 2
I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.
Jesus was also described as 'Lily of the Valley' for that He alone is sinless, holy, and separate from sinners. This, well... this seems to expand on Fyodor's motive of wanting the Book to eliminate and purify humanity's "sins".
Red roses:
On the surface, red roses symbolise love and romance which, Fyodor does not seem to express. But after some more research, I found that the deeper the colour of the red rose, the more ready you are for commitment. But this is just on the side of romance (Fic writers, take the notes). There are other meanings to red roses such as desire, longing, respect, admiration, courage, sacrifice, beauty and perfection.
Tithonia Rotundifolia:
Before I go into the meaning, I just want to say this one was very hard to do. There was a bit of a mind debate on whether these are Tithonia Rotundifolia or orange daisies. But in terms of the shape, I figured it would be the Tithonia Rotundifolia.
Tithonia rotundifolia is a hardy and drought-tolerant plant, often thriving in challenging conditions. As such, it can symbolize endurance, resilience, and the ability to thrive despite adversity. Also, giving or receiving Tithonia rotundifolia can be a gesture of admiration and appreciation, acknowledging the recipient's positive qualities or expressing gratitude. While I personally do not think Fyodor is a person who shows admiration and appreciation, he certainly was admired and appreciated by lots, such as Sigma, Nikolai, Ivan et cetra.
Magenta Roses:
Magenta roses symbolize deep, passionate love, echoing the fervent emotions often associated with red roses. They convey a profound sense of affection and desire. But considering Fyodor's personality, we'll move on. Magenta roses also represent gratitude, appreciation, and admiration. That links perfectly to my previous analysis of the Tithonia rotundifolia.
With a bit more research I found that the rich and vibrant colour of magenta roses evokes feelings of enchantment and mystery. They can also signify the magic and allure of love, adding a touch of mystique to romantic gestures. But again, considering Fyodor, let's not stick to the romance side of things.
Olive branches:
This one is more of an optional analysis since I'm not sure if they really are olive branches in the first place. Anyway, we are pretty familiar with the international peace symbol (the well-known one, anyway) being a dove carrying an olive branch with its beak. This symbolises peace and harmony, which at least, in my opinion, is what Fyodor is aiming for to create a "sinless" world without abilities.
Narcissus:
The Greek myth of Narcissus falling in love with his reflection and turning into a flower symbolises self-love and egotism. While this may not entirely suit Fyodor, I do believe he has self-confidence in himself, perhaps even too much that he didn't consider trusting his allies. In fact, that was how he reached his downfall. The Narcissuses in the scene, at the end, bloomed over the other flowers and caused them to grey and wilt. In my opinion, this may symbolise two things:
This shows some of the good qualities that were symbolised in the flowers that didn't suit Fyodor were ruined by his self-confidence and lack of trust. For example, Fyodor didn't have the love symbolised in the roses because his goal buried those emotions down.
This shows how all of his good qualities were soon consumed by his lack of trust and confidence in himself. In fact, the Narcissuses taking over were like how his confidence and arrogance in not needing another plan just in case (we're talking about breaking out from Meursault here) taking over him and resulting in his ultimate (hopefully temporary) downfall and death.
Anyway, these are just my silly rambles. Use this as a reference or whatever, don't take it too seriously I really don't know much about flowers lol. I'm trying to make more analyses cos they're so fun to read (/>^<\) Have fun with the new pieces of information, I spent 1 hour on this and opened 23 computer tabs (Yes, I am not very efficient)! Uhh... bub-bye?
#bsd#bsd analysis#bsd fyodor#seriously the romance and love for the flowers are screaming Kolya#Yeah should i tag this a fyolai?#Nah#what did fyodor do lol#I tortured Fedya-kun with my ass analysis#character analysis#scene analysis#bungou stray dogs s4 intro#HIS ANEMIA IS SHOWING THROUGH HIS FACE BIKHUJ#No offense to ppl with anemia :>
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The Chosen & Christianity - my thoughts
I have never identified as ‘Christian’ although I was raised Catholic, purely because I have no care for its following all the outdated cultural practices and quite frankly, because of what people have made ‘Christianity’ out to be. However, I have and always will find the intrinsic values of Christianity really dear to me. If you take away everything else, at its core (like all other religions that are clouded in cultural and historical biases), it’s all about love and compassion and kindness and it really warms my heart.
So yes, has The Chosen - a TV show about real humans, sinners and outcasts, still being adored by Christ - made me love Christianity again? Absolutely. Has it healed my image of religion as paternalistic - by portraying Jesus for all he really is - good and kind and loving - without having all the extra added bits that make religion daunting and unwelcoming? Yes. Does it make me feel loved and safe and accepted as a queer person? Yes. I find myself closer to Christ more than ever.
Now some of you may not agree with queer people because of what the bible says, but I would say, for every time the bible has ‘condemned’ homosexuality (this in itself is a debate, but besides), ten times over has it has emphasised the importance of loving people and being kind to people and not judging them for their sins, for you yourself are not sinless. Surely, that makes these values 10x more important than condemning queer folks and kicking them out of churches???
If you identify as ‘Christian’ but judge and make outcasts of people, how are you a follower of Christ - he who went out and made friends with outcasts? What is TRULY more important in this religion? Compassion, which fundamentally underpins Christianity (and humanity!!!), or abiding by tradition, sacrificing kindness in efforts to adhere to strict rules.
It’s people make religion scary, not the teachings themselves. People make it out to be something that judges and condemns, rather than grows and nurtures - people make people distance from the Church, and that is so upsetting to me, because Jesus Himself was such a welcoming man.
For that reason, I don’t think I’ll ever identify as Christian because of how rejected I feel in the church, especially for being queer. Despite that, perhaps because it’s a part of my childhood and my heritage, no other belief system can ever come close to the comfort of being close to Christianity and Jesus. I will always carry it’s values and morals in my heart, if anything and shows like The Chosen remind me how much I love Christ (just not his church at times) - but hey, many of Christ’s followers themselves were the same. Good people who didn’t find solace in ‘good society’ and instead found solace in him <3
Anyway, really happy I started this show because it made me realise that I truly love Jesus a lot :) and on that note, shout out to Quakerism for being my fav branch of Christianity - y’all are so kind and peaceful and accepting and actually warm my heart 💗
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ YOUR LAST MERCY yandere! reaper! diluc ragnivindir / gn! reader
synopsis ! for all the souls he has seen and shepherded, he has fallen for one that is both beauty and sin alike. and so he ensnares them in a deal with death. + 3.8k words
warning ! a lot of mentions of death, a corpse, necromancy, manipulation, mentions of blood, mention of suicide
( this is probably gonna be a two-part story. i’m trying to go with the big spooky halloween vibe and a more subtle form of yandere-ness. happy spooky season! this is a repost. )
seldom are the mortals who catch his eye. even more are those who he lusts for. but as one of the many faces of death, it is only normal to be drawn to souls that suit exactly their taste.
his fellow reapers have odd tastes: ajax loves the ones stained with blood and depravation, his fool of a brother likes those meek and trembling, and the one named kunikuzushi has a taste for the sumptuous yet pitiful. diluc doesn’t understand those tastes. what was the point of consuming dark and dreary souls when he had to endlessly toil with blood and death? he gravitated towards the pure, the sinless, the hopeful. he made deals with the angels on earth, allowing them to have an opportunity to achieve what they wanted before they passed on for good. let the milky taste flow down his throat as he left no drop, the closest thing to heaven he’d ever dreamt of having.
unfortunately, humanity was rife with sin, and it had been centuries since he had last tasted what purity was. he was a hard-working man, dedicated to his one and only role of shepherding the deceased onto the next stage of life. he works with the chthonic ones, the ones who smell of blood and darkness, and guides the sinners to their graves. diluc does not hope for anything beyond what he has.
until, of course, a certain fool managed to catch his eye.
he slips into a shoddy little cabin on the outermost edge of the woods, his pale feet slightly hovering over the moist soil. beings like him tend to go unnoticed in the mortal realm, but he is still and quiet as he approaches the house. there is an appointment waiting for him, as there is almost every hour and every second. it’s an ordinary death—a broken heart and the foolishness of taking one’s life. he’s seen far more tragic deaths in the name of love.
his keen ears hear the sharp cries and hollow sobs as he draws nearer. through the cracked window pane, he watches a young one sobbing into the lap of the corpse and cradling the head into their arms. please, please, please. he listens to them murmur, throat hoarse from archons-know how long. wake up, you idiot. don’t leave me here.
it’s not a sight he hasn’t seen before. with death comes mourning, but that’s not what makes him stop in his tracks and stare greedily at their pathetic figure. no, something else catches his brooding red eyes.
from your chest, the very faint outline of a soul glows from where your heart is. it’s not entirely pure—no one is entirely pure—and is flecked with sin. jealousy, greed, anger, they all stain this soul. but there is… a different glow about this one, so unlike the pure milky ones he used to eat centuries ago. it draws him in, like a moth to a flame.
the wind blows and the curtains part for the entrance of the embodiment of death itself. your puffy eyes dilate with horror as you take in his looming scythe and the black flowers that decorate him.
yes, diluc smiles to himself. this is what he’s been waiting centuries for.
you’re not the keenest of people, but you’re not stupid enough to not know who this person was. in a war-stricken state, you are far more familiar than the average person with death. the burning of corpses, arrows being shot in the eyes, and the countless lives taken after they have decided that they could do this no more. that what came after death had more meaning than what they had on earth.
there is a certain smell of death. not just the rotting flesh and the iron tang of blood, but something beneath all that. something that lingers, is heavier, something out of this world.
that smell is on this dark-veiled stranger, looking upon you with glowing red eyes. the moon haloes him from behind, like the frescoes of saints that decorate the hallowed halls of the church. you grip your brother's hand for relief, like how you often would when he was alive. it is cold, and he doesn't squeeze you back as he should have. it's a haunting reminder that the brother you've looked up to is now long gone.
"holding on to your brother won't delay his departure any longer." his voice is hauntingly beautiful. solemn, yet charming, aged with the burden of eons of experience. "it's time for him to move on."
he takes note when you hitch your breath or the slight grit of your teeth. it's obvious that you're not willing to let him go so easily. diluc marvels at this. it's not easy to find this sort of relationship between mortals, much less siblings. one could tell that you harbor deep affection for your brother, a platonic sort of love deeper than the average sort. but as far as diluc could tell, he muses to himself while glancing at the rotting body, it's a one-sided relationship. you have wasted your feelings on a brother who didn't love you as much as you deserved.
diluc sighs at your impertinent silence. he still has other deaths to attend to, although not as urgent, seeing as he has reached his daily quota. before he could swing his scythe and finally cut the soul from the flesh, a trembling hand weakly grasps the fluttering edges of his tunic.
"make him come back to me…" you croak out, your voice hoarse. "my brother, please, i– i don't know what to do without him."
you are a foolish little thing, you know that. you depend on your brother far too much for your own liking. when you sweep and dust your cabin, he's off hunting for meat and making deals at the market. when your own fragile heart despairs as nightmares of the war come back, your brother has been there to comfort you. he's the only thing you've ever known, his smile the only sun you long for, his touch the only thing that anchors you to the ground. you would have long been brittle skin and bones without the brother who had raised you since childhood.
diluc leers down at you. your face is soaked in tears, but your determined, albeit shaky eyes look up at him like he's the last string of hope you can latch onto.
that's not a bad look for you. his skin is cold as he grazes your chin and clasps them between his pale fingers. he scrutinizes, dissects, and memorizes every groove and mar on your face. you're not exactly gorgeous—after all, he works with gods and goddesses, it's natural for a mortal's face to be beneath them—but you are eye-catching. at least, to him.
your face flushes in embarrassment at the elongated silence. you think you have a right to be flustered, especially when someone as handsome as him studies your face so earnestly. you wait until he finally lets go, and he pulls back.
"a deal," his voice rings out through the cabin. a silver contract materializes in mid-air, the cursive flowing letters of 'contract' printing themselves along the top in real-time. "a wish of yours in exchange for a wish of mine."
"what do you want?" you ask breathlessly. diluc likes the way you're on your knees and hanging on to every word, every syllable of his. he likes it so much that he decides to draw out the game for a little while.
"that's for you to find out in the future."
with a wave of his hand, a raven-feathered quill makes its way to you and slots itself between your trembling fingers. a deal with death, you remember the elders saying, will cost you an eternity.
you don't mind. you don't mind. a life without your family is worse than an eternity in hell.
you repeat that thought in your mind, clasping your brother's cold hand for one last push and pressing the nib to the paper.
SIGNED,
[YOUR NAME] [LAST NAME]
there is no physical change, but the looming feeling of dread grows even further in your gut. the predatory glint in your contractor's eye does not bring you any relief.
"back again are you, dearie?"
a nice elderly woman whose name you can barely recall smiles at you from behind her table of produce. there is fresh cabbage and carrots and all sorts of ingredients you can make into soup. she waves you over and you smile at her.
"i'm making some vegetable soup for my brother today," you say meekly, picking the freshest ones out of the batch as you talk. "he still can't digest much hard food."
"goodness me," granny offers her sympathies with a shake of her head. "poor boy, being rejected all cruelly like that." you grit your teeth at the grim reminder. "to be so heartbroken that you become bedridden. i just wish that the dear girl would have given him the time of the day. and such a fine lad too… what a shame."
"it's not girl's fault for not liking him," her grandson, who mans the shop with her, interjects. "honestly, he should just pick himself up and move on. i can't believe that someone like him would be so upset over something like this. Hhe can hunt down the largest of boars and the most ferocious wolves, but he can't get over one girl. it's honestly baffling."
he smiles at you sympathetically and ruffles your hair. "thank the gods he has someone like you to depend on. we were all shocked when you came out of your house! we thought you'd be a recluse for the rest of your life. family really makes you do the wildest things, huh?" he chatters on, his grandma making remarks every so often, while he fills your basket with fresh produce and some additional meat given from their own goodwill.
you grimly smile at the last sentence, tuning out the rest of their unneeded chatter.
"medical herbs, fleece for blankets, hmm…" you mutter to yourself the list of goods you've journeyed to take. a few people take notice of you and wave you over to chat about the latest gossip with you, but most ignore you, unaware that you are the sibling of one of their greatest hunters. one paltry old man beckons you, the eager smile on his face letting you know that he's about to pitch a sale. you'd love to just turn the other way and ignore him, but your meek nature won't allow you to be so rude. you follow him to his wares, all neatly arranged in a four-wheel, hoping to turn him down as soon as you had the chance.
"you have no idea what a great haul i just received from the city, my dear child!" he laughed, his eyes shining with greed and enthusiasm. "fortune had shone down on me that day—a great many barters and trades to bring back home from the city. you should really come to see them for yourself, maybe even bring back one or two for your brother. i'll even cut down the price for you, as a tribute to my friendship with your father—"
"absolutely not." a deep voice sounded from behind the four-wheeled vehicle. a sleek leather boot first, a gentleman clad in dark luxurious attire and a solemn air made himself known. a few of the younger people nearby gasp, his sharp and handsome features drawing the attention of many.
you, in comparison, pale. especially when his ruby-red eyes fall on you.
we meet again, his eyes seem to say, but he sweeps into a gentlemanly bow as an introduction. "diluc ragnivindir. i come from the city with this elderly sir here to inspect this village." he clasps your trembling hand in his and presses a kiss on the back of your hand. "... pleasure to make your acquaintance."
had this been any other person, your heart may have jumped at the mere thought of a beautiful man paying you the slightest bit of attention. instead, it clings wildly within its confines while your mind races at a mile per second. had he finally come to collect his debt?
your worries are further heightened when he makes no intention of letting your hand go. you watch as he offers a kind smile to the watching businessman. "... this particular fellow has caught my eye. i hope it would be no trouble if i could steal them away for a moment?"
the elderly man blinks before a knowing grin breaks out on his face. "hoh! why of course not! you can take all the time you need!" his eyes glint with mischievous knowing. a sheltered country bumpkin and an elite trading merchant off to spend time alone together? why, this would make for some delightful gossip around town! he trots off somewhere joyfully, eager to spread the juicy news, and you’re left to your own devices.
his shadow looms over you, darkness enshrouding you and making you keenly aware of his dark gaze on you. from the corner of your vision, the strands of his bright red ponytail sway and make a stark contrast with his deathly black attire. the basket nearly slips on the sweat from your palms as you gulp and try to pull yourself together.
"you look livelier than i last saw you, [last name]."
you flinch at his deep baritone. you nervously step to the side, but his gloved hands catch your trembling hand and squeeze it in his grasp. "you seem to be avoiding me," he hums. shakily, you look up at him, and he meets you with those blood-red eyes. "we’re barely even strangers. we’re bound by a contract, after all."
the mention of the contract flares an unfamiliar anger deep within your usually timid soul. he watches with interest as the meek lamb’s eyes turn into a sharp glare. you pull away from his grasp and angrily stomp off.
"it’s best you don’t make a scene," he chides from right behind you. "everyone’s watching us."
"then stop following me," you whisper angrily, wiping away tears before they fall. "you’re the last person i want to see."
as you march angrily through the village streets, everyone gawks and points as they see the handsome outsider trailing after the village’s ex-shut in. no one really points out the angry look on your face, especially since they’re so used to you being a weak-willed pushover that anger is unexpected from you. the ones who do notice, chalk it up to the heat, not the merchant man who hasn’t taken his gaze off you for the past few minutes.
the village’s cobblestone path gives way to a rough dirt path leading to the depths of the forest where you and your brother reside. the woodland creatures, friends of yours who’d cozy up to your feet and perch on your shoulders, are unusually quiet and absent. you take a peek over your shoulder and meet his eyes once more. you tear away and shiver.
"mortals have always been ungrateful, so i wouldn’t say this treatment is unexpected." he sighs at the impertinence of humans. "consider yourself lucky that you caught my eye."
you don’t dare make a comment because you are. you are lucky and you know that. no matter how much hatred you have for this deathly being, he is responsible for your brother's return.
or whatever remains of him anyway.
you push the door open to your humble shack, the hinges creaking and the tall trees singing it back. the oil lamps you lit before leaving have been puffed out. you light the one hanging by the door and wave it around to clear up the darkness.
"brother…?" you cautiously call out, darting your eyes everywhere to find him. you step over splintered wood. "brother, i’m home…"
something greets you. the deep and throaty breaths of an entity veiling itself in the dark. something falls over.
"i have meat…!" you try to entice him. the basket swings on your wrist, and just when the slivers of light through the boarded windows catch the red meat, it shoots out of the dark. this crazed, inhuman thing, eyes filled with empty mania as it lunges straight for you. diluc steps in front of you and slams the thing to the ground with a clean sweep of his arm.
you gasp, quickly scrambling over to your whimpering brother as he clutches his bruised cheek on the ground. it’s bright red, and you suspect that if he put any more power into it then he’d have a dislocated jaw. you soothe his whimpers and let him clutch at your clothes, and you turn to glare at the watching reaper.
"what is wrong with you?" you hiss, bringing your brother closer. "you’re an otherworldly entity! can’t you try to keep your strength under control? my brother’s just a normal human!"
he raises a brow and scoffs, eyeing the shaking, pathetic mess under him. "mangy mutts must have discipline beat into them if they want to be fed. you’re clearly spoiling him."
"h- he’s not some mutt!" you shout, though the sudden rise in tone has you coughing. your brother worriedly nudges you as you sputter and clutch your chest. glaring up at him through glistening tears, you grit your teeth. "if you don’t have anything good to say, get out."
"i admire your display of bravery (although your shakiness softens the impact, i will acknowledge it), but a debt collector has to check on their debtors." his lips quirk into an uncharacteristic smirk. "and it appears to me that’s something about the deal has been troubling you."
so he does know. nevertheless, you won’t let him gain the satisfaction of fooling you. wiping the dust off your clothes, you huff and bring the basket of food to the table. the splintering thing creaks under the weight, and even more when your brother leaps up on the table. "I don't—cough!—quite understand what you’re talking about." you get to work on putting away the groceries. "so if you’re done being smug, you’re free to leave."
"it’d be rude to just leave when someone is so dissatisfied with the terms of the contract," he says. with crossed arms, he stares at your back. "if you’d so like, you can always bring it up with me now."
you stay silent.
"i’ll take your silence as stubornness to comply."
you shoot back, "you can take my silence as the means to leave me alone."
his eyes flicker with amusement. "leave you alone? when you’re having regrets?"
you return to him, your [eye color] eyes red with rage and your docile lips curled into an ugly snarl."i don’t have regrets!" you scream, eyesight zoning on his red, red, red. "what i don’t understand is why in the world did you not live up to your contract! this—" you wildly gesture to your dumbfounded brother"—was in no way part of the contract!"
ah, humans, diluc thinks to himself. so quick to blame others and not their stupidity.
"i told you i’d bring your brother back to life." he taps his foot and looks down at you. "i’ve upheld my part of the deal."
"this isn’t my brother," you hiss. "my brother is strong and smart and can hunt the largest animal in the forest! he’s not– he’s not–" the whimpering of your… brother makes the words falter on your tongue. it wears the suit of your brother, but the face is your brother’s nevertheless. the look of hurt and confusion squeezes and wrings your heart out dry.
diluc only watches as you try to bring your hand to your brother’s cheek, only for him to give you a look of distrust and turn away. your heart breaks and fragments into tiny little pieces, before you bite your lip and turn away. "you know what i mean," you dejectedly sigh. "i want an explanation."
"again, i said bring him back to life," diluc repeats, firm in his tone. "reanimate his corpse. not bring his spirit back. my soul is only a fragment of a god, not a god wholly. bringing spirits back from the underworld is not within my realm of power."
another bout of anger flashes within your eyes, but the brother within your eyesight makes you wither and slump in your seat. "you celestial beings and your loopholes…" you grumble. looking back at your brother slinking away from you and to his own corner, diluc observes as your eyes slope into something of regret and quiet acceptance. "he can’t be brought back at all, can he?"
"unless you make a deal with a god."
you chuckle, waving off the thought. "the wars taught me one thing—outside of entertainment, gods don’t care for us humans."
your parents… who gave everything for murata, the god of war. the war where gods clashed heads with other gods for something not even their best warriors were privy too. the war where you watched your first hometown burn to the ground and your parents die by the sword. where your brother plucked you up from the ground and grabbed you even though you thrashed and screamed and begged for your parents to wake up. where he ran and ran and ran, even though you could see the blood seeping out from his tired soles.
the gods don’t care for you. diluc doesn’t tell you otherwise, because it is the truth.
"i want to give everything for my brother, i want to pay him back." your voice twists with fondness and mourning. "i love him a lot–"
"–so why did he throw it away for someone who doesn’t love him back?"
diluc watches, as he always does. your soul grows even brighter than before.
you feel his arms, strong ones that could easily snap you in half, snake around your neck and draw you closer to his chest. you don’t respond or flinch, only staring dully at the remains of your brother shivering in the corner. diluc gently tucks your hair behind your ear.
"it’ll be okay." his voice tickles your ear. "you will have all the time in the world to spend with your brother."
as the snake coils itself around its lenient prey, it grants it one final act of mercy.
#yandere diluc#yandere diluc x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact diluc#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere x reader#yandere genshin#diluc x reader#yester.writes
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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3
Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along
A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
MALE VERSION HERE
GN VERSION HERE
Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch
Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.
So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.
There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.
Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.
And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.
Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.
“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.
No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.
You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.
“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”
“I don’t-” Lucifer started.
“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”
Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”
Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.
Who were you, really?
He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.
Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.
Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.
Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.
“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”
“So, you’ll try then.”
Lucifer nodded his head in consent.
“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”
The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.
When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.
In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.
You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.
After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?
You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.
Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.
You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.
Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.
Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.
However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.
Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.
He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.
Nothing happened.
Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.
Very well.
He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.
He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.
Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.
The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.
“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”
“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.
“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.
“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.
“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.
“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”
Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.
“They don’t need to.”
“Okay, but can they?”
“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”
You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”
“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.
“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”
Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.
“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”
He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.
Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.
The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.
You couldn’t help laughing.
“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”
Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.
“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”
“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.
“You know that’s not their names.”
“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”
The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.
“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”
“I can’t. I have… plans.”
Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.
It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.
“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”
Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.
“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.
It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.
#fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#reader#female reader#lucifer morningstar#lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin hotel x reader#charlie morningstar#lucifer magne#lucifer magne x reader#hazbin hotel#hellaverse#sinless sinners#part 3#chapter 3#learning to get along
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10/28/2022
I'm sure she's an immaculate roommate!
___
JOKE-OGRAPHY:
In this Bible story, Jesus decides to stay at the house of the tax-collector, Zacchaeus, who has repented of his greedy ways. Some onlookers wonder why someone as holy as Jesus would stay at a sinner's house. In this cartoon, Jesus says that, if He couldn't stay with sinners, He'd have to live with His mom forever (because Catholics believe that Mary was sinless). He says this as if it would be a bad thing, so when He catches sight of His holy mother eavesdropping from behind a nearby house, He quickly amends His statement so He doesn't hurt her feelings.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This is yet ANOTHER Tomics Resurrection, where an old comic that has long suffered the cruelties of time is sent to the pasture to be... taken care of... while a new comic takes its place! Here's the old version for comparison:
#jesus#mary#virgin mary#blessed virgin mary#random guys complaining about other people like they dont have manual labor or fishing or something to do in ye oldene biblicale thymes#bible#tom#gould#tomics#tomicscomics#tomgould#catholic#christian#cartoon#comic#eavesdropping isnt a sin if youre just checking on your beloved son
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Charlie radiorebelling at the half dead woman propped half conscious against a dumpster and then making this face
about Vaggies wings is the funniest thing to me. I propose that she’s a little freak actually
(I do wonder her seeming disapproval premarital sex in the play scene is like. A product of her lack of understanding of humans and therefore overcorrecting and relying on hammy ideas of sinlessness and purity as a kind of overcompensation and not representative of her views on sex when applied to hellborn.
..wonder how Charlie views hellborn in contrast to sinners in general? They’re still her people by technicality even if she isn’t heir to the specific crowns of the rings by virtue of being the princess of hell, right? Huh)
#[brackets]#okay one last post before I go to bed for my government assigned 4 hours of sleep#cheers
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"For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus;"
– 1 Timothy 2:5
"And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour."
– Luke 1:46-47
Mary was aware that she was not sinless. She knew she was a sinner who needed a Savior. She said so herself. The Roman Catholic false teaching that Mary was immaculately conceived (born sinless and never sinned her whole life) is refuted by Mary herself and the bible so, in essence, Roman Catholicism is calling Mary a liar and calling the bible a book of lies.
"And it came to pass, as he spake these things, a certain woman of the company lifted up her voice, and said unto him, Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the paps which thou hast sucked. But he said, Yea rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it."
– Luke 11:27-28
Jesus pointed the church to honor, not people's opinions nor the traditions of man, but the actual bible, the word of God.
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3rd April >> Mass Readings (USA)
Easter Wednesday
(Liturgical Colour: White. Year: B(II))
First Reading
Acts of the Apostles 3:1–10
What I do have I give you: in the name of the Lord Jesus, rise and walk.
Peter and John were going up to the temple area for the three o’clock hour of prayer. And a man crippled from birth was carried and placed at the gate of the temple called “the Beautiful Gate” every day to beg for alms from the people who entered the temple. When he saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked for alms. But Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, “Look at us.” He paid attention to them, expecting to receive something from them. Peter said, “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk.” Then Peter took him by the right hand and raised him up, and immediately his feet and ankles grew strong. He leaped up, stood, and walked around, and went into the temple with them, walking and jumping and praising God. When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the one who used to sit begging at the Beautiful Gate of the temple, and they were filled with amazement and astonishment at what had happened to him.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 105:1–2, 3–4, 6–7, 8–9
R/ Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.
or
R/ Alleluia.
Give thanks to the LORD, invoke his name;
make known among the nations his deeds.
Sing to him, sing his praise,
proclaim all his wondrous deeds.
R/ Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.
or
R/ Alleluia.
Glory in his holy name;
rejoice, O hearts that seek the LORD!
Look to the LORD in his strength;
seek to serve him constantly.
R/ Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.
or
R/ Alleluia.
You descendants of Abraham, his servants,
sons of Jacob, his chosen ones!
He, the LORD, is our God;
throughout the earth his judgments prevail.
R/ Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.
or
R/ Alleluia.
He remembers forever his covenant
which he made binding for a thousand generations—
Which he entered into with Abraham
and by his oath to Isaac.
R/ Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.
or
R/ Alleluia.
Sequence
Victimae Paschali Laudes
Christians, to the Paschal Victim
Offer your thankful praises!
A Lamb the sheep redeems;
Christ, who only is sinless,
Reconciles sinners to the Father.
Death and life have contended in that combat stupendous:
The Prince of life, who died, reigns immortal.
Speak, Mary, declaring
What you saw, wayfaring.
“The tomb of Christ, who is living,
The glory of Jesus’ resurrection;
bright angels attesting,
The shroud and napkin resting.
Yes, Christ my hope is arisen;
to Galilee he goes before you.”
Christ indeed from death is risen, our new life obtaining.
Have mercy, victor King, ever reigning!
Amen. Alleluia.
Gospel Acclamation
Psalm 118:24
Alleluia, alleluia.
This is the day the LORD has made;
let us be glad and rejoice in it.
Alleluia, alleluia.
Gospel
Luke 24:13–35
They recognized Jesus in the breaking of the bread.
That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus’ disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred. And it happened that while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him. He asked them, “What are you discussing as you walk along?” They stopped, looking downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, said to him in reply, “Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know of the things that have taken place there in these days?” And he replied to them, “What sort of things?” They said to him, “The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, how our chief priests and rulers both handed him over to a sentence of death and crucified him. But we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel; and besides all this, it is now the third day since this took place. Some women from our group, however, have astounded us: they were at the tomb early in the morning and did not find his Body; they came back and reported that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who announced that he was alive. Then some of those with us went to the tomb and found things just as the women had described, but him they did not see.” And he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them what referred to him in all the Scriptures. As they approached the village to which they were going, he gave the impression that he was going on farther. But they urged him, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them. And it happened that, while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight. Then they said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?” So they set out at once and returned to Jerusalem where they found gathered together the Eleven and those with them who were saying, “The Lord has truly been raised and has appeared to Simon!” Then the two recounted what had taken place on the way and how he was made known to them in the breaking of the bread.
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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Another Day in Paradise, Chapter 4
Pairing: Eventually Alastor x OFC, later- light Alastor x ofc x Lucifer
Rated: E for eventual smut
Content warnings (Series): It's Hazbin Hotel- this feels redundant. Sex, eventual smut, referenced implied suicide to be discussed in more detail later, drugs, drinking, poor coping, toxic behavior, controlling behavior, cannibalism, idk, it's fucking Hazbin Hotel, if it's worth a content warning it's probably going to come up at some point? Religious trauma. reader has a name/is a oc.
Content warning- Chapter: None
AN: Eventually maybe someone will read this shit. Still riding the new fandom crack train.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
~~~~~<3
Amber hid in her room the rest of the morning and had herself a good cry. It was something that was becoming more common as she felt safer. Eventually, a knock brought her out of her wallowing though she couldn’t say how long she had cried for.
Charlie was at the door, a plate with a sandwich and some chips was placed on a try as well as a glass that looked to contain juice. It was so perfectly wholesome and out of place in hell.
“I thought you might be hungry.” She said as Amber stepped aside to let the her into the room.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to.” Amber said rather than admit that yes, she was starved. It was near lunch time and she had ran back to her room with her tail quite literally between her legs before having anything for breakfast.
“I wanted to thank you,” Charlie said, setting the tray down on the end table by the bed before sitting down next to where Amber sat.
“I didn’t do anything.” Amber couldn’t meet the girl’s wide and ever eager eyes and instead picked at the chips. Princess or golden retriever hotel owner, the woman was simply too good either way.
“But you did,” Charlie insisted, “You took a risk. You gave it an honest try. You shared something so important to you. You could have taken the easy way out like they did but you didn’t. That means something and I am so, so proud of you for it.”
That surprised Amber. Charlie knew. She knew they were half-assing their activities. She knew. But she cared, encouraged and loved them anyway. How could a being like Charlie have been raised in hell?
“Does it bother you,” Amber asked, “That you’ve only lived in hell?”
“I mean, I’m curious about things top side, sure. But this is my home and I’ve had such a great life here. I mean, I know I’ve been privileged. There’s so much more to hell than just what you have access to here. But even this ring of hell can be pretty great. You can have a life here too, you know? A good one.”
“I guess.” Amber shrugged.
“You’re already doing so good!” Amber smiled at Charlie’s encouragement. “You found somewhere safe, you’re making friends and t’s nice to see you not being so scared. I want you to feel safe here, I want you to have a life here. Inside the hotel and out.”
Silence settled as Amber ate. Charlie was happy enough to just sit with her for the moment.
“Why?” Amber finally asked, when her food was gone and the glass was sitting in her hands. “Why are you so invested in helping me? Isn’t hell supposed to suck? Isn’t it supposed to be punishment? But here you are, insisting on helping.”
“I don’t know.” Charlie admitted, shrugging. “Sure, this place is intended to be a punishment for Sinners but who says it has to be? And you just don’t seem like you belong here. I can’t imagine what you did to get sent here.”
Amber laughed, “I’m far from sinless.”
“Sure, no one is.” Charlie admitted with a shrug. “But a bunch of little sins surely doesn’t get someone down here. And if it does, it shouldn’t.”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter?” Amber stood up, not sure how to run from the conversation when she was in her own room. It was getting to be too much.
“I’m sorry- I know most don’t really like to talk about what they did or how they died. It’s kind of taboo here and I overstepped.”
“It’s fine,” Amber lied.
“What was your favorite thing top side?” Charlie asked, standing as well and making her way to the door.
“Other than my daughter?” Amber mused as she thought about it. “Listening to the radio in the early morning, out on the porch with a cup of coffee. Before anyone else woke up. Before the day woke up. Before the day’s bullshit started.”
A knock on the door started Amber out of her memory. Charlie had a wide smile as she enveloped the much smaller Amber in her arms. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It sounds beautiful.”
“I should get that.” Amber mumbled into Charlie’s shoulder as the knocking came again, this time accompanied by a voice.
“Anyone hooome~?” Alastor called in a singsong voice from behind the door.
“I should really get that.” Amber repeated, trying to ignore the way fear flooded her. “I don’t want to upset him.”
Charlie ducked out of the room with a wave as Amber opened the door to Alastor. “Dearie, did you forget our plans already?”
“No, I just- I didn’t know when.”
“Now.” Alastor answered, thumping his cane on the ground and leaning on it. “Is that,” Alastor wiggled his finger at Amber, “Acceptable to go out in?”
“What?” Amber looked down at the over sized shirt she was wearing over leggings. “Is there something wrong with this?”
“It could be better.” Alastor said simply before deciding, “But I suppose it’s good enough for now.”
“We’re just going to pick up the things from the tailor, right?” Amber asked, slipping her feet into the simple low heeled shoes Alastor had gotten her. They were more comfortable to walk in, rather than the heels and boots Angel had insisted on. Sneakers just didn’t seem to be a thing at the stores either had dragged her to.
“Among other things,” Alastor answered simply. “Come along now.”
Alastor started down the hall without waiting for her. She was left scrambling to catch up to the one person she didn’t want to spend an undefined period of time being drug around the city with according to their whims.
She didn’t know if she needed a coat or an umbrella or how the weather in hell even worked. It rained but the rain didn’t look pleasant. She’d seen people dissolve to the bone in the rain while she huddled under whatever shelter she had been able to find at the time. The weather had always been warm when she had been on the streets but Alastor always wore a overcoat.
Going out wasn’t something she was used to and oh boy, was she overthinking it.
She managed to catch up to him at the elevator, slipping in with Alastor before the doors closed. He had made no effort to hold the elevator for her. As soon as the doors opened onto the lobby, Alastor’s long legs carried him swiftly out. Amber was left scrambling to try and keep pace with him, struggling to stay within a few paces behind him.
He had to know she was all but jogging to keep up. There was no way he wasn’t hearing the way she was panting by the time they reached the bottom of the hill or the rushed clicking of her heels against the stones contrasting to his smoothe relaxed steps.
“Now my dear, how should a lady carry herself?” Alastor didn’t even look back as his pace slowed.
“Kind of hard when I can’t keep up.” Amber mumbled, trying to pull herself together according to his damn whims.
“Fix yourself.” Alastor commanded as he looked back at Amber.
She pulled the hem of her long shirt and ran her hand through her hair trying to make it look like she hadn’t been near running to keep pace with his insanely long strides. Back straight and strong. Shoulders pulled back. Neck long. Chin up. Stand tall. Breathing slow and deep.
It felt foreign. It felt wrong. It felt strong.
It felt good.
“Very good.” Alastor remarked simply, continuing on his stroll at a much more relaxed pace.
Amber was able to keep within a few paces of him, trailing along behind him as he cut through fairly peaceful streets. Sure, there were corpses here and there, there were drug deals going down where the occasional alley shot off the main road. Monster sinners crossed the road rather than share the sidewalk with Alastor and eyed the woman who was in their eyes brave enough to share her time with the feared demon.
Amber didn’t know what to do with her hands while walking in this new stiff posture. The day before, she at least had Alastor’s arm to busy one hand. She didn’t have a cane to fiddle with like him. She tried tucking her hands behind her back like he did but it felt stiff and awkward. Clasping her hands in front of her his felt better but still awkward, it reminded her of the timid life she had lived.
In the distance, she could see the tailor shop.
“Now, go get your package.” Alastor stopped, glancing at her before dissolving into the shadows, leaving her alone.
“What?” Amber looked around and couldn’t find any sign of him. Oh hell no.
He took her out of the hotel and fucking left her alone. Defenseless and alone. Shoulders sagged as she debated if she could make it back to the hotel without having an unsavory encounter of some sort. Eyes fell to the ground as doubt swan through her mind.
No, she couldn’t continue this way. At the very least she needed to complete the task Alastor had set her out on. Who knows what would happen if she didn’t at least get the clothes.
“Step one, get to tailor. Step two, get clothes. Step three, I don’t fucking know.” Amber took a deep breath and again fixed her posture. Eyes up. Head up. One step at a time she propelled herself forward, down the sidewalk and toward the shop.
Sinners didn’t cross the street for her. Some catcalled and propositioned but none actually touched her. A few sinners came close to touching her, reaching out to wrap and arm around her waist while trying to offer her something or another but she was able to sidestep them.
She tried to pretend Alastor was walking with her. Oh, how she hadn’t expected to lean on the idea of him for some confidence. It was hard to wrap her head around how he made her feel safe while also making her feel the farthest thing from safe.
The air of confidence she struggled to pull around her was nearly totally false but it was something. Though it was illusion alone, it carried her as each step took her closer to the tailor shop. Just a block away now. Then a few feet.
Her fingers trembled as she reached out for the railing as she prepared to ascend the stairs. It was here that she paused and looked around. In many ways, this was just another city street.
Could she make a life here? Could she have some independence here? What a strange idea, to exist independent of those around her. When had she last been independent? Had she ever been sucessfully independent? She didn’t think so.
Alastor was nowhere to be seen. Amber didn’t know what would come next but she wanted to believe she could get back to the hotel again, on her own if need be.
Why he was helping her, she couldn’t fathom but he was and his lesson had been vital. What other vital lessons could he teach her, if she was willing to trust him?
Clean clothes, a change in how she carried herself and she was left largely alone in the same area she had once been accosted, chased and terrorized at. She was sure it helped that she had been seen with Alastor to some extent though.
Closing her eyes, she tried to channel the way actresses would glide up stairs in the films she had watched in her life, not that she had gotten to watch many. Smooth steps as she made her way up to the porch and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob.
With a deep breath, she entered the shop.
“You made it!” Alastor’s singsong voice called out, rich static coloring the tone as Amber all but jumped out of her skin. “Good job!”
The small sheep demoness had packages bagged up and siting on the counter. She looked positively terrified to have Alastor lounging in her shop as he waited for Amber to make the walk.
“How did you-?” Amber clutched at her chest as her heart hammered against her ribs.
“Collect your bags, Dearie. I’ve got things to do, places to be and people to maim. We simply have to get going.”
Amber did as she was told, scurrying over to the counter and collecting the bags with a meek word of thanks to the shopkeeper. Any air of confidence she had managed to collect on her way in was gone, startled right out of her by Alastor.
Alastor said nothing as he lead her out of the shop. She raced behind him as he descended the stairs. There was no way she could guess which speed Alastor would walk at and part of per mentally prepared to nearly run to keep up with the much taller man.
Instead he waited for her at the base of the stairs, making her look ever more a fool as she stumbled to a stop in front of him. He looked down at her with eyebrow raised and hummed his weird musical hum.
“This simply won’t do for the meeting.”
“What meeting?” Amber wanted to go home. She wanted to go where Alastor wasn’t so she could get her bearings.
Alastor snapped his fingers with a flair and air rushed around her. Elegant red fabric draped itself over her. The flowing circle skirt danced around her legs, cutting a soft line a few inches below her knees. The neckline was high, it nearly felt like it was choking her but the back of the dress dipped low, leaving her feeling exposed in the least scandalous way possible as her hair tickled the exposed skin. Her tail fit perfectly through a hole that she was pretty sure wouldn’t be able to accommodate the fluff when it came time to remove the dress.
“Did you just dress me up like a doll?” Amber spoke sharply before she had a chance to consider her tone or who she was speaking to.
“And there you have it, again she finds her claws.” Alastor laughed, tucking her hand around his arm to rest on his forearm as be began to lead her down the street.
“Why are you doing this?” Amber dared to ask while he walked her swiftly down the street toward the heart of the city.
“Boredom, as I said. Don’t you listen?” Alastor tapped her ear rather harshly with the microphone head of his cane. “These ears are for more than just decoration, are they not?”
“They work,” Amber flung her ears forward and back in a attempt to somehow swat the microphone away without having to outright challenge the much more powerful man. “But that dosen’t really tell me why you’re treating me like a pet.”
“Getting braver!” Alastor chuckled but didn’t answer. “Good job!”
Amber yanked her arm from where it was tucked around his, stepping away to put distance between them. “Seriously. Why are you helping me? I know Charlie believes in redemption and Angel just seems nice but you-?”
“Me?” Alastor pointed to himself, static thick in his voice again as his neck cracked, head twitching to an unnatural angle for a moment. “Do tell me what you think you know about me.”
“You’re powerful.” She stated plainly, deflating. “And creepy. Sadistic, maybe.”
“You complement me so!” Alastor all but preened, placing a clawed hand to his chest and standing tall before leaning into her space again. “Do keep going.”
“You could kill me with a flick of your wrist, probably wouldn’t even feel bad about it-” She continued, stepping away from him every time he inched closer until she almost fell off the sidewalk.
“I wouldn’t.” He said though she didn’t know if he was confirming he wouldn’t feel bad about killing her or that he wouldn’t kill her at all.
She didn’t dare ask for clarification.
“You don’t get anything from helping me but what? A momentary entertainment? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Isn’t our afterlife little but a series of momentary entertainments to break up our hellish existence?” Alastor countered before his posture changed, standing tall again and ordering her to stay put as he dissolved into shadows.
“What the fuck.” Amber said to the empty space he had been. “What the actual fuck.”
#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x y/n#alastor x oc#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x you
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