*grabs the Vanguard Vaggie idea and scuttles back under her goblin rug*
OKAY BUT
Imagine, like after they retreat back to heaven, the other exorcists...start talking. They start talking *behind Lute's back*.
At first it's pain and bitterness and betrayal at Vaggie fighting them. 'How could she do this? How could she hurt us?!'
Then, maybe during some hit and run nonsense that Lute has them doing, the conversation shifts. They start noticing that Vaggie doesnt go for the kill unless she has to. Doesn't maim. She always gives them the chance to run, to go home... And they start talking. They talk about those better times with the Vanguard. They wonder aloud why she fights for hell. And maybe, just maybe, they talk about how they miss her. They miss Vaggie. They miss having that feeling of her looking out for them.
I wonder how long it might take for one of them to linger. To lower their weapon. To take off their mask.
Even then, it takes a long time for the first exorcist to *stay* after they should have retreated. For them to ask for a place to stay. But as more and more start to come to Vaggie, to the *Vanguard*, and ask for a home...charlie cant help but be grinning as she holds Vaggie's hand.
ayyyyeeeeeee!!!!
what if there was that slooooow realization that when Vaggie was around, their vanguard, they all felt more like a team together. she liked things done Right and done Well- wasn't bothered with competing- took training and exterminations Seriously- kept them all sharp sure but also turned something that was just Adam's shits and giggles, just a GAME, into a purpose and a duty again. something to be proud of and do their BEST at (while still having fun)
so yeah when Adam and Lute come back with her halo saying she's sided with hell, betrayed them all, damned herself and gets to rot there with them- there's that anger. oh they HATE her for doing that-
because they miss her
and things were better, they all felt better, when she'd been around, and that's gone now and it's her fault
or adam and lute say so anyway
can you IMAGINE in this au, the shift when Lute 1v1s Vaggie... and doesn't come back to heaven with her head?? DOESN't beat her? and Adam's DEAD?
and so are so many of them actually- dead exorcists that vaggie helped kill, that vaggie helped fight off
why?
three years her being in hell and she'd never fought any of them or hurt any of her sisters when they came flying down- (and she COULD have) (used to be one of the BEST after all) it's only when they're sent after her HOME that she fights, almost as if-
as if killing isn't what she wants to do anymore, if she can help it
thats. not the same as turning against them. not the same as her siding with hell- even so lute and adam still wanted her dead, and even then, she'd let lute LIVE...
is that weakness and betrayal?
but she's not weak, if lute couldn't kill her. and she never killed any of them until they came after her. is that still betrayal?
or is it something else
is there anything kind of betrayal here. are they on the wrong side of it...
im not sure, if any of them would take off a mask willingly- risk hell-
i KNOW that even ONE moment of hesitation would get lute turning on them, just like she did with vaggie- worse maybe, now very aware of the danger of letting fallen angels live- HER mistake, not killing vaggie when she had the chance all those years ago
and if a wounded and abandoned exorcist staggered to the gate's of the hazbin hotel? if some of her other sisters went looking for her- KNOWING this time what the supposed 'betrayal' and 'sin' had been?
(a moment of hesitation)
(before one of them drops her weapon to knock on the hotel door)
yeah. they'd find charlie running to help them inside. probably already pulling out bandages- a demon with first aid gear in her pockets, always carried just in case, nothing like they were expecting-
they'd find their Vangaurd waiting there too, having gone ahead and made things safe for them to follow, just like always
that'd be pretty sweet
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(FNAFtale x Doom: Episode 1. Embrace of Darkness)
A strange demon wakes up in hell, and groggily gets up. He's surprised to not be wounded-
Well...
More wounded than usual at least. Whenever he awakens from a deep sleep, it's usually because of himself passing out due to injuries.
He shakes his head, ridding his mind of the images of past defeats, and he starts to look around. Looking to see how much of his pack is still around.
To his surprise and fear, he doesn't see anything he recognizes. The land around him is too wide, and he actually sees a dusty sky instead of a roof riddled with hanging demons. He looks around the ground, and he sees only small splashes of blood. Most of which isn't even boiling.
Worst of all, he doesn't feel the looming threat of heaven over him. Now, had this been another other situation, he would have been rejoicing. But this is far too strange for him...
"...where in the forgotten gods' names, am I...?"
He tries to open a portal back home, but he's only able to manage creating a few sparks of hellfire. He grits his teeth in pain, as he struggles to perform the simple spell. He falls to one knee, panting. "...I-I'm too weak right now... I need to gain energy..."
He starts walking around, his tail swaying side to side steadily, like an annoyed cat. "That's just great... don't know where I am, too weak to go home... hopefully there's something to eat in this world so I can regain my strength..."
@ask-underfazverse
*around him there were many forms in the distance, they seemed to be people and others not. There was a destroyed building nearby in what looked to be an area of plains although it was hard to tell with the dark stone floor seeming to extend on forever in cracked and rolling hills with large rocks and boulders occasionally being spread with small groves of trees. Near the destroyed house in front of the demon there was a figure coming out that looked straight at him with glowing eyes and a ball of fire in its hand, it was limping and using its free arm to hug across their stomach*
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prompt: they* go fishing
*whoever you want, raph/haarps would be fun maybe)
A/N: Mslanna, you wild and I love you. I truly should have taken this opportunity to write like. Wild West Au Raphael. Out on a boat. Fishing.
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Raphael x Haarlep: Fishing
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"You're brooding, boss."
Raphael doesn't look up at this little gibe, attention fixed, glaring, on the drafted contract. It's hardly his best work. He could fit a few more manipulative subclauses into section sixteen. A few phrases in the main body need reworking to allow for the maximum wiggle room on his part, but…
…well, he supposes his heart truly isn't in it today. It's a shame not to love your work.
Haarlep snorts, inspecting their claws. "Oh, Raphael is pouting, darling. His new favorite toy doesn't want to play."
"Hush, you."
"'Hush, you?'" They give him a look, hands planted firmly on hips. Haarlep hooks an arm around his neck, slipping into his lap. "Take note, Korilla: this is what depression looks like. No energy for witty repartee. No time for his old hobbies."
His warlock shakes her head. Haarlep adjusts themself in his lap, squirming into some semblance of comfort. It'd be easier as the Archduchess, but ease has nothing to do with their prerogative: Haarlep wants attention. Haarlep wants to distract and inconvenience.
"You're being tedious," they grumble. Haarlep pinches the back of his neck, claws threatening to break the skin. "They'll never want to play if this is how you act. Come, have a little fun. Entertain me."
"I've no interest in your flesh, servant."
Haarlep snorts. "However shall I cope, princeling?" The incubus waves off his rebuttal, sliding from his lap in one fluid movement. They clap their hands. "Oh, it's been a while. Can't we play in the Well?"
The cambion pinches the bridge of his nose. Fishing, Haarlep likes to call it, though it is barely an accurate reflection of the sport. "Haarlep…"
"You'll feel better. You always feel better after, dear." Almost as an afterthought, low and sickly sweet. "I know you, Raphael. Trust." The words make him itch, innocuous but with a hint of command. Trust? In the Hells? Trust this miserable creature? He thinks not.
But Raphael stands, hands linked at the small of his back. He lets himself be led to the soul pillars, his prized jewels. Haarlep delights in them, eyes flickering over the shimmering service, tracing the souls trapped within. Their tail thrashes behind them.
He's reminded of a housecat: trapped indoors, still hungry for prey, watching birds flutter past their window.
"You'll have to throw them back," Raphael warns.
"No fun at all." But Haarlep plunges their hand into the pillar, snake-quick. The stone's surface breaks around their arm like water. Haarlep catches one unfortunate soul, brings it forth, and squeezes. Savage glee flits across his features. The incubus holds their victim up for Raphael's inspection: a pretty little thing, no more than twenty, screaming, agonized, pledged to him for all eternity. A summer of pleasure for eons of torment; Raphael chuckles.
"There, look at you enjoying yourself. Good boy," Haarlep purrs, dragging the tips of their claws across the spirit's flesh. They howl. Irritated by the noise, he tosses them back into the pool. It's no fun without a fight. They want something more stoic, more breakable. "You'll feel so much better about the situation if you just relax, princeling. Here," they yank their hand free of the pillar, bringing a fresh soul. Raphael recognizes them: one of his newer acquisitions. An opinionated little shit who thought they'd retain the upper hand in a deal with a devil. "Make this one scream."
He does. And when the spirit is too weary to satisfy them with its cries, Haarlep thrusts them back into the pillar and fishes out new entertainment. The cycle begins again. A touch of mindless cruelty to break the monotony of his day…
…and Haarlep is right, damn them. Raphael feels better.
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