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reverseexorcist · 6 months ago

Note

emily,charlie and lute (seperate!!) x fallen angel!reader hcs 🥺👉👈

† 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫, 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𐕣

+ !Fallen Angel!Reader

I was gonna close my requests for a while, but dammit you cannot wave all three of my favourite characters right in my face and expect me not to cave instantly (especially Charlie and Emily, those two are too pure for this world <3)

➲ Charlie Morningstar, Emily, Lute + !Fallen Angel!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 4,861 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, Chaggie in Charlie's part but otherwise Charlie-centric, angst with comfort in Charlie's part, slight gore in Charlie's part, angst in Emily's part, bird behaviour in Emily's part, Sera is properly evil in this, bird behaviour in Lute's part, minor gore in Lute's part, Adam is even more evil than ever before

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

➲ Barely a month after the failed extermination, your plunge into the fiery depths of Hell took place. Wings cleaved messily from your back, halo clutched firmly to your chest as you refused to part from it, and golden blood casting gracious arcs of ichor behind you as you fell

➲ You didn't even know why you were doomed to fall from grace. Never even told the reason

➲ You weren't exactly the most perfect of winners above, but there were plenty who were worse than you. A balancing of scales, perhaps - Unfair but set in stone regardless

➲ You felt it was a miracle you survived the fall, but when you were already dead, the only thing that could kill you for a second time would be the blade of an exorcist

➲ Just like the one that had stolen your wings

➲ The real miracle, however, was not your survival from the fall. Rather, it was the fact your tumble landed you naught five minutes from the newly constructed Hazbin Hotel. Any closer to the city, and you'd be on the raders of the infamous V's. Any further, and you'd surely have succumbed to the bloodloss inflicted upon you

➲ But, by the grace of the big man above, you fell (almost quite literally) at the feet of the one and only princess of Hell

➲ Well, you actually landed right next to a dumpster about a bus length away from her. But the resounding thud and crack of broken bones, followed by the splatter of golden blood hitting the ground like the world's most morbid pitter patter of rain caught the attention of the princess with a bleeding heart and her former exorcist girlfriend

➲ With a horrified gasp, Charlie was by your side in seconds, Vaggie hot on her heals. Both of them look terrified, one certainly more traumatised by the event than the other, gruesome images flashing rapidly in her mind

➲ Hands slick with your golden blood, Charlie heaved you into her arms, cradling you against her chest like fragile porcelain. You could only groan, writhing and squirming and sobbing in pain, the light of your halo flickering wildly as your blood slowly trickled and landed on the brimstone below you

➲ Vaggie flared out her wings like a shield, protecting her girlfriend and the angel that had quite literally fallen into their lives. With her spear grasped firmly, dangerously in her hands, any sinners that stood between the duo turned trio and the doors that lead back into Hazbin Hotel were struck down without mercy

➲ There were questions, obviously. Angel craned his head over the back of the couch as the two stormed in, obviously confused as to why the'd returned so soon after leaving. Seeing how pissed off Vaggie looked, as well as the expression of concern and horror written all over Charlie's face, he didn't pry in the moment

➲ Husk only flicked an ear in their direction, but to their relief he didn't do anything beyond nonverbally confirming that he had heard them re-enter the hotel

➲ Alastor, however, looked thoroughly interested

➲ Casually strolling up behind the, smile strained and eyes squinted as a very delicious smell drew him toward the group

➲ Vaggie lashed out, flaring her wings out further to prevent him from taking another step forward with a firm prod to the chest with the point of her spear to dissuade him. However, It was Charlie's reaction that got him to back down in the moment

➲ Forked tail lashing, horns splitting her hair, growing from her skull within a matter of seconds with an inhuman hiss escaping from between her pointed teeth got her point across

➲ But Alastor still let his eyes wander to the gold that was smeared over her hands. That was all the confirmation he needed

➲ There was a silent debate between the two of them of what to do. Unanimously, the first decision was the get you cleaned up. Charlie took the lead, and Vaggie delivered her supplies. The hotel owner had already done this once, and she did it again with deft talent in a matter of hours

➲ The blood was cleaned from your back, still warm and not yet dried. You silently screamed at the sensation of water washing over your open and bleeding wounds, at the agonising sensation of being pat down and dried as tenderly as possible, and at the scorching sensation of bandages expertly woven and twined around your front and over your shoulders

➲ It made you sick, the feeling of snapped bone being wrapped with cotton. You wanted so desperately to empty the contents of your stomach, but you were too weak to even gag. The nauseous feeling just washed over you, making your entire body shake and shiver uncontrollably

➲ Charlie sighed softly, rubbing small circles over your tense shoulders as she whispered to you softly. But the blood rushing to your head and the pounding of your heart in your ears made you deaf to the world. You cried silently

➲ The two set you up in a room right next to theirs, just so they could more easily tend to you when they needed to

➲ As much as Vaggie wanted to help, it was Charlie who was the one who commonly changed your bandages, checked your pulse and temperature and regulated your body heat. She was also the one who grew a spine and stepped up toward the radio demon, warding him away from your room as you slept. But the duties of the hotel called, and she was just grateful Vaggie was so willing to lend a hand

➲ It may've been Vaggie who stood a silent vigil over you as you slept and recovered, but it was Charlie who nursed you back to health over the next six months

➲ They were both there when you finally woke up after your first initial day, but Charlie was the only one awake

➲ It was a rude awakening, that was for sure. Forgetting the memories of your recent fall, only to wake up in Hell, had you hyperventilating and sobbing once more. At least you still had your halo, its glow dimmed beyond its previous glory, but the only attatchment you had to when your life was happier. You clutched it to your chest like a child would to their favourite toy

➲ Charlie frowned, and slowly approached you like you were a timid animal. You watched her with big, teary eyes. Shaking shoulders, trembling hands, yet you didn't flinch or scurry away when she reached toward you

➲ It started out as a gentle touch, her open palms there for you to hold. When you shakily took her hand in yours, clutching on to her warmth like a lifeline, she shimmied a bit closer, sliding across the bed covers. Carefully, mindful of your still healing wounds, she wrapped you in a hug. Your hands clutched frantically at her suit, and it was all Charlie could do to not cry with you

➲ Your life was, for the most part, a rotation of Charlie and Vaggie

➲ It wasn't so bad, at least in the grand scheme of things. You knew you were lucky to have been found by the two out of all the sinners who could've possibly stumbled across your half-conscious form on that first day. But that didn't mean you were taking to your new life well

➲ Vaggie was lovely, soothing your worries as best as she could (which wasn't that good, but her words of wisdom as an angel who fell before still served to comfort you)

➲ Charlie, on the other hand, was your beacon of sanity

➲ She was a little too bright and a little too loud at times, but she pretty quickly picked up on your emotions and adjusted herself accordingly. Slowing down whenever you needed to ground yourself, perking up when you needed a little happiness in your current situation. It certainly didn't hurt that she insisted on sitting by you, singing you to sleep each night

➲ To the two of them, you were their little angel. You had no idea when you'd become the third in their relationship, it'd just happened one day, and none of you looked back

➲ Vaggie may've been your rock, but Charlie was your guiding light in the dark

➲ You were practically her shadow, clinging to her at every moment if possible. Her bubbly, bright and sweet personality as she nursed you back to health was the morale boost you craved and needed so desperately

➲ The soothing touches she'd ghost over your back whenever you got searing phantom pains, the grounding hugs she'd provide whenever your tried to claw at the feathery stumps on your back, the times where you were so convinced your halo would shatter between your fingers, she was there through it all with a gentle voice and kind eyes

➲ You enjoyed her singing. Itwere a breath of fresh air in this hellhole. Whenever her beautiful voice was shunned, you'd huddle up in your giant bed with Razzle curled up in your lap and one of Vaggie's wings thrown over your side and fall asleep to Charlie's angelic voice

➲ The first time you went into town was whiplash. You stood out like a sore thumb. Timid face, eyes darting everywhere, looking wholly like a human and not a sinner as you practically stepped on Charlie's feet every second. You felt like a zebra who'd wandered into a lion's den, with the way about a hundred pair of eyes followed you wherever you went

➲ One demon stepped too close, and at the sound of your anxious whimper, Charlie had whipped around and stood nose to nose with the sinner. Fangs bared, tail lashing angrily as she tugged you into her chest. No one had seen this side of her before, all of them more well acquainted with her naive and childish personality than the royal of Hell in front of them

➲ No one picked on you when you were with Charlie anymore, and for that you were eternally grateful

𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

➨ You and Emily probably knew each other back when you were still in Heaven. Just a casual conversation here and there, maybe you'd show up at the same party every now and then, line up at the same store once in a while, but overall you weren't exactly well acquainted with the youngest seraphim

➨ That was until, you started acting just a little too rebellious

➨ It started out small, just the casual mention of some sinners not deserving to spend eternity burning in Hell. Picking the occasional fight with the few angels that had those black and white striped wings. Acting a little callous in the prescence of the older seraphims

➨ Emily tried to step in, to see where you were coming from. It was her job to maintain happiness after all, and seeing you suffering in silence just didn't sit right with her

➨ And when she asked, you rambled

➨ What about all those 'sinners' who had to sin in self defense? Those who had to act out to provide for their family because they had no other option? Those who had their hands forced? Those who only fell because there was no one in life to support them?

➨ At first Emily was shocked, but she tried not to let it show. She was supposed to make people feel happy, and if getting everything off your shoulders would make you happier, then she'd gladly listen to your rants

➨ But then your words turned towards the other angels

➨ Why did Heaven need an army in the first place? What did they even do? It seemed the only purpose they served was to mill about the place like some sort've mall cops, and yet they peacocked around like they owned the place. Their commander, Adam, was no better

➨ You thought out of anyone, the first man would be mature enough to hold a proper conversation. It probably didn't help that your first introduction to Adam was him pushing in line and promptly mocking you when you called him out on his bullshit

➨ With each new day a new rant formed, and Emily found it rather concerning that she was agreeing with your perspectives. Despite that, she saw your troubling behaviour improving, lashing out less and less now that someone was listening to you

➨ And she just thought it would go back to normal, only this time she'd have a new friend. And for the most part, she was right. Sure, you were a bit rough around the edges, but after getting past the bumpy first few conversations, the youngest seraphim found herself rather enjoying your company

➨ You were thoughtful and caring, giving her excuses to put herself before others instead of having her bend to the other angels' wills just to appease them. it was like you were her guard dog, the one who was more than happy to do what she wanted for a change

➨ It only took four months for her to develop a little puppy crush. At first she thought it was just a little squish, something that would pass like all the other little heart-warming relationships she'd have in the past. But with every smile, every little imperfect gift you'd give her, every time you'd let her vent to you, the warm little flutter in her heart grew

➨ Emily never let Sera find out. She didn't know why, but she had the idea that her and her other sisters wouldn't be thrilled at her courting someone. Probably because of your previous track record, her older seraphim sister wouldn't be entirely enthralled about her developing feelings on the 'rebellious angel'

➨ That certainly didn't stop her, though. Months of subtle little gestures, the puffing and displaying of her wings, the sweet words she'd share - All a sign of courtship. But it just didn't seem to be working!

➨ So, five months after your first conversation, Emily confessed

➨ Her words were sweet but rushed, stumbling over her sentences nervously. The eye in her halo blinked open, darting around anxiously just like her original two. Her wings fluttered, all six puffed up looking fluffy beyond belief as she played with her fingers

➨ Imagine her shock and happiness when you gently took her hands in yours, smoothing out her palms before reciprocating with a gentle smile

➨ She couldn't help it. With a little squeal, she flung her arms around you, wings quickly following as she practically smothered you in one very fluffy hug. You couldn't help but share that same enthusiasm, a much softer chuckle escaping you as you brushed your wings against her, nuzzling against her cheek as the two of you spun around happily

➨ And your afterlife was smooth sailing for a few years after that. It finally felt like the world was at peace. But then Sera started getting a little pushy

➨ With all the time you spent with Emily, apparently the older seraphims decided she wasn't dedicated enough to her task of maintaining happiness. They weren't exactly wrong, she was spending a majority of time with you, but the overall happiness of Heaven hadn't diminished at all

➨ It wasn't Sera who decided nor directed the punishment, but the council never acted unless it was a unanimous vote

➨ Perhaps it was the unease of the recent trial, or the reveal of the exterminations, or even the pure shock rippling through Heaven when it was revealed that sinners could in fact be redeemed. But it seemed that the council, with so much to deal with on their plate as well as the general discomfort of the general public, decided that Emily could have no distractions - Especially not from an angel with a track record like yours

➨ She didn't even get the chance to say goodbye, only presented with the news by another one of her sisters and your chipped and bloodied halo as the world's worst consolation prize

➨ It was an understatement to say she screamed. It was a wail, defeaning, like a banshee. The sound tore throughout Heaven, a mournful cry that left the poor little seraphim's throat raw. She didn't even have the energy to lash out, only faced Sera with tears streaming down her face, many eyes open and filled with distraught fury and blubbering out hate in her direction

➨ "I can't believe you! I hate you! I can't believe I ever looked up to you!"

➨ Hours passed before Emily finally stood up, flashing her wings angrily, dangerously

➨ She glared at the exorcist present, the new Commander after the fall of Adam, with her sword still covered in the golden blood of her life-partner

➨ She never said it outloud, but from that moment onwards she wholeheartedly resented the council of Heaven. Her fellow seraphim sisters meant nothing to her, knowing they each played a part in the demise of an innocent angel who she loved with her whole heart. She did nothing to help Heaven, and instead spent the next week curled up in the nest you'd made together crying and mourning her loss

➨ It was always an unspoken rule that a seraphim should never take a partner, less they be distracted from their duties to Heaven and have to cleave the eternal bond of love. One that was never spoken outloud or written down anywhere, but one that was generally seen as correct - Just their fault that they'd never introduced the concept to the youngest of their flock

➨ After one week, Emily resolved herself and started researching

➨ Surely, one of these books would help her. Her magic was already strong enough, all she needed with a little bit of information to loft the wind beneath her wings. You couldn't be dead. The connection you two shared was still there, a faint tugging in her heart. Fallen, but not dead, that she was certain of

➨ She never looked at her sisters, barely tolerated being in the same room as them. Their presence only rubbed, poked and prodded at the raw wound that was her broken heart. And it was just her luck that none of them noticed the books from the forbidden section of their personal library slowly going missing

➨ Emily didn't care if she fell for this. Face set, she opened a portal directly into Hell. A part of her wished she would, just to get away from her family

➨ The seraphim had no idea where she'd start looking, but she had a decent starting point - The place that Heaven's army tried so hard to tear down, yet still stood proudly to this day. The Hazbin Hotel

➨ And it was just her luck that in the beacon of hope in the pit of eternal hellfire, she found you being tended to by your fellow fallen angel

𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞

➨ She remembered you

➨ She remembered the day you first met, an exorcist and a fluffy, run of the mill winner

➨ She was courteous to you then, the first time you met face to face. Apologised briefly when Adam said something crass that made you wince, because your big eyes tugged at her heart and her big mouth moved before she could even think about it

➨ After that day, she started seeing you everywhere, and it seemed you were under the same phenomenom. Seeing her everywhere, that was

➨ You had no idea how you'd missed the bold stripes that decorated her wings all those times you'd just missed each other in the streets, as now everytime you looked outside, you'd see flashes of black that your eyes just couldn't help but zero in on

➨ Annoyingly, almost mortifyingly, she found herself showcasing. Puffing her wings out, showing their strength and dexterity. Wandering around Heaven with you in her free time, one wing curved mindfully around you so the two of you would walk shoulder to shoulder, treating you to the various cafes and restaurants that littered the utopian city

➨ It made her want to puff her chest out and brush every other soul away with her wings, to sweep you up in her arms. On the other hand, she could believe she of all people was acting so brazenly in public.

➨ Lute pointedly ignored the looks she was garnering. Most of them, anyway, it was certainly hard to ignore the comments when Adam was yelling them right in her ear

➨ You certainly didn't seem to mind, however. In fact, you seemed to revel in the attention, tentatively returning it when possible. You picked up quickly on the fact she was fifty fifty on when you so openly returned her courtship in public, instead reading the stiffness of her shoulders and the furrow of her brows

➨ But when you brushed your wings against hers, fingers dancing subtly along her broader flight feathers, there was a small part of her, the young girl that she used to be, who melted at the loving touches

➨ And when you finally got together, it all increased tenfold

➨ The courtship behaviour didn't end. You still found Lute flaring out her wings around you, unfurling them proudly as she compared her broad, wide wings against your slimmer pearlescent ones. Every time she saw you, she just felt compelled to show off, to reel under your praise

➨ The nesting pissed her off though

➨ Her bedroom was usually so orderly. Sparsely decorated and rarely used, but once you started coming over more often her walks home after training were interupted by a quick trip to the nearest all-purpose store. She often felt awkward walking the streets of Heaven with two blankets strewn over her shoulders and various pillows tucked in her arms

➨ Now, two weeks after you'd made it official, it looked like a plush bomb had gone off in her room. Blankets everywhere, categorised and weaved to some sort've tune, fortified with as many pillows as she could find

➨ The only silver lining in the annoying behaviour was coming home to see you curled up in the middle, threading any shed feathers among the folds of the blankets to match the stark black ones Lute had added during its creation

➨ It hurt her deeply to see you like this. A spear through the heart, a cold fear which she never wished to feel again

➨ To see you sprawled out, Adam carelessly downing a smoothie as her suboordinants grappled with you, easily pinning you to the floor. One had her boot pressed firmly between your shoulder blades, pressing on the muscle below and forcing your perfect wings to flare out

➨ Lute felt her stomach drop when they all looked at her, though her face remained stony as ever

➨ She hadn't even heard of any irregularites about you, no rule breaking or slander. But she had a job to do, and with the nasty smile the first man was giving her, she knew that if she didn't cleave your wings from your back, he'd be the one to do it. She wasn't even mad, because she knew you'd done nothing wrong. She was grief-stricken, but she was also selfish. Wanting to be the last one to touch you, to feel your warmth beneath her hands

➨ She just wished you didn't have to look at the helmet, but rather see the the tear-streaked expression set on her face

➨ That night, it hurt to return home and see the nest she'd painstakingly crafted with her own hands. She didn't have the guts to tear it down, so she slept on the couch

➨ It was a vicious cycle that repeated over and over with each passing day. Lute turned cold, colder than she already was. Turned to a robot with nothing to look forward to, nothing to live for beside the suffering she could bestow upon others. Making others hurt, it let her focus more on tormenting and less on the own searing pain that tore her own heart to pieces

➨ She didn't even care anymore. Home didn't feel like home. Training felt like nothing but a chore. Yet she continued to shoulder on, because the only thing she feared more than losing you, was to die and find out that you were not in the second death with her

➨There was only one event that she looked forward to anymore. The exterminations. Her only outlet to vent her frustrations properly, to crush the lives and dreams that she herself had violently ripped away from her

➨ That's why that shithole hotel had to crumble beneath the exorcist army's might. Because if sinner's were to be allowed into Heaven because they'd changed their ways, then you should've been allowed to cross past those pearly gates (a part of her knew so fervently that you shouldn't of been cast out in the first place, and that's why she was so damn determined to make sure not a single sinner would cross the golden gates)

➨ And then, with the forcefield shattering around the building, she saw it

➨ More aptly, she saw you

➨ Her wings faltered as she dropped a few meters in the sky, her blood running cold once before her heart warmed. For a second she almost tucked her wings against herself to dive right at you - She wanted to so bad, you hug you and pick you up so the two of you could fly together once more

➨ And then she saw the way you clumsily slammed an axe into a charging exorcist's head. Saw the faint red streaks tainting your wings. Saw the way you stood back to back with the princess of Hell as the two of you found yourselves cornered

➨ And she felt betrayal

➨ Adam beat her to the punch, though. Swooping low with a gloating laugh, twirling his holy guitar in his hands as he stood practically face to face with you

➨ "Look who it is!" Lute could hear his voice loud and clear, and for a split second she thought about speeding past him so she could finish the job herself. At least, until the next words he spoke

➨ "Do I have to down you again?" He sneered. "Y'already got in my way once, Sugar Tits, and I got rid of you then." He gripped you violently, dragging you closer by your arm. Lute felt her mind working over time, her mind fogging over as she numbly hovered in midair

➨ "And now, I'll get rid of you here!" Adam raised his guitar-axe over his head, readying himself to cleave you in half

➨ Lute felt her wings working before her mind, dive-bombing. It was a feeble attempt, she was already so far away, only close enough to hear Adam's loud taunts. But she was already responsible for your downfall once, and she wouldn't let it happen again

➨ Neither would the princess of Hell, apparently

➨ Clutching furiously at the nape of her steed, a goat-like dragon, Charlie Morningstar guided the behemoth toward the first man, flying into him at full force. Wingtip to wingtip, the creature managed to snag Lute in his slipstream, sending her spiralling off to the side where she crashed awkwardly to the ground, her helmet splitting right down the middle

➨ She groaned, righted herself and look up, only to stare right into your solemn, blood-framed eyes

Really weird to think that Emily is like, 6ft? Maybe more? She always looks so small and fluffy but no, she's just about the same height, if a little taller than Charlie and it's so weird to think about. Still absolutely adore her, though <3

#charlie x reader #emily x reader #lute x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel emily x reader #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel charlie #wlw #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader

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reverseexorcist · 6 months ago

Note

Hello, can we get Sera x Winner!Reader?

The reader has hipdips, because I'm so frickin' gay and I got hipdips.

Unsure what form this would be, you can choose how to write it^^

❥ 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞 ❥

Boy I am sure a sucker for the twevle foot tall maybe but probably not homicidal seraphim. She's just so gaslight gatekeep girlfail, y'know? (Also I just love old testament style angels in general <3)

➲ Sera+ !F!Winner!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,776 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Bird tendancies for both Sera and the reader (nesting, preening, cooing), very fluffy, I just think she's really pretty, me when I saw Sera fr, slight hint of angst (exterminations), but with lots of fluffy comfort

Clouds fogged the window, the glow of the setting sun and edging indigo of the approaching night sky ebbing behind cotton fluff as the first few array of sparkling stars blipped to life. The wind chimes outside the pearly kitchen window swung softly, almost inaudible in the faint breeze - Despite the twining height of the heaven-sent spire, the topmost dwellings of the holy realm were at peace from the harshest of the winds, mostly because they didn't actually exist in such a utopian place.

You exhaled, wiping your hands messily across the front of your apron before returning to the simmering pot on the stove. The smells that wafted out from it were incredible, mouth-watering even. It was a new recipe you'd gotten from your seraphim sister-in-law, Emily, after your last dinner party, claiming it to be one of Sera's favourites, which was all the allure you needed

Sunset. Sera's workday was almost over.

You found it kind've unfair that even amongst the afterlife, there were certain angels that still had to work. There were volunteer jobs sure, something to keep peoples' hands busy so they didn't die again from boredom. But, you hummed as you thought, someone had to keep this place running neatly, and the heavenborn seemed made for this time (which, y'know, they probably were.)

It didn't make you any less salty about it, though. Winner pairs had every single hour of their artificial days to spend time together if they so desired, wandering around the bright metropolitan cities and the mellow, enchanting countrysides, and yet you and Sera spent most of your days apart. And then, you remembered with a rather sour twinge, on her rare scheduled day off a trial of utmost importance had popped up.

Marble crumbled underneath your strengthening grip on the counter, cracking pitifully before tumbling in a fine dust on to the floor. 'Whoops' - With pursed lips you waved your hands, angelic light seeling the cracks and repairing the damage you'd inadvertantly caused within seconds.

Outside noises drew your attention, a chorus of wingbeats fluttered down to the door, a holy sound so synonymous with Sera and her six wings that had you perking up immediately. Firm, yet you could tell even from the kitchen window that something was wearing on her. From the way you heard the falter before her landing and the uneased rustling of angelic feathers, there was a sort've weight to every single one of her movements that made your heart worry. Your own wings flexed nervously as you made your way over to the doorway.

Sera was already inside, brushing her dress down and picking at a few loose feathers clinging to the swoop of her neck, preening. Her brow was furrowed, probably in thought if her perpetual thinking lines meant anything, but there was a certain dullness in her pearlescent eyes.

Now you were definitely worried.

Even as you neared, it was the eyes on her crownpiece the swivelled to face you first, then the ones that dotted her enormous wings. It was only then did she sigh and turn to you with the smallest of smiles.

Tired was one word to describe her expression.

The seraphim's arms were wrapped around her middle, wings tucked tightly to her back and anxiously puffed up, the very epitome of 'something's definitely not right'. Which was certainly not something anyone ever thought of when imagining the the high seraphim Sera. And that in of itself was the problem - To see such a confident, caring and durable figure of authority so down in the dumps. But, more importantly, it made your heart bleed to see your life-partner so gloomy and still trying her hardest to not let it show (and obviously failing, which really only made you more fidgety.)

"Sera?" You tried to peer in her eyes, to gauge her emotions. She sighed through her nose, spreading her wings half-heartedly and crouching down more to your height, cooing softly like a dove. Delving into her warmth, you nuzzled against the silken fabric of her dress, wings brushing against wings as her feathers gently encased you in a warm hug. The feel of her slender fingers threading across your face, trailing down your neck till they rested on the fluff of your wing joints, rolling the downy, warm feathers gently between her forefingers as the eyes decorating her body slowly blinked closed, the tension in her shoulders slowly melting away as you returned her light touches. Trailing across her shoulders, through the sleek feathers decorating her shoulders and collarbone - Shiny like crystal, yet softer than clouds.

Sera hugged you a little tighter, palms rubbing circles on your back tenderly, holding you wholly within her much bigger being. The gentle weight of her head rested atop yours, nosing around. Bergamot and chamomile swept over you, sweet and citrusy with a hint of spice that clung to Sera's feathers, now shifted to your delicate plumage.

However, you could still feel the rigid anxiety flexing through her wings. As tightly as they hugged you to the tall seraphim's chest, they were taut and strained, not free and sleek like they usually felt with every hug. And as much as you wanted to ask, something told you that she'd reveal everything with time - Despite the sore subject of truthfulness between the two of you at the beginning of your relationship, it was something she'd worked on diligently over the hundred or so years you'd been paired.

"Sera, hun, you're tense," You murmured into her breastbone, "go relax, have a shower. Dinner's almost ready."

She seemed so reluctant to let you free of her grasp, feathers fluffing as you slowly pulled away. Lithe, long fingers trailed from your back muscles down your sides, tracing the dip in your hips back and forth. WIth a playful sigh, you pressed one kiss to her throat, then another on her jawline with a third and final smooch on the tip of her nose. Content, a faint coo warbled from her throat, eyes slipped closed before you peeled yourself away. Much to her dismay.

"Supper's on the stove! We can cuddle more after dinner," You flicked your wingtips, amused at the almost puppyish look of longing on Sera's face. Confusion creased the white flecks framing her eyes, and she wrung her fingers together before ultimately raising herself up to her full height, feet floating ever so slightly off the floor as she shuffled into the adjacent dining room (as much as one could shuffle when their feet weren't touching the floor, that is.)

Emily was right - The tired, worried, anxious look traced on Sera's face disappeared as you placed her bowl down before her, even more so when you sidled up next to her. Tentatively, her smallest wing reached out as it usually did, feathers tapping softly against your arm and own wings before wrapping around your shoulders. Satisfied with at least being in contact, dinner was enjoyed in a peaceful silence.

Outside, the windchimes danced in the breeze.

Your nest felt startlingly empty without Sera curled around you.

It was a feeling you never thought you'd get uesd to, and you always felt so small picking your way through the carefully placed plush walls, ducking your head under the twining fabric that hung from above creating an almost dome-like ceiling to shield the light of the moon away from your eyes. Sparse inside, but incredibly soft and warm to the touch, you found yourself practically sinking into the mattress, two silken pillows tucked comfortably underneath you.

Sera herself had perched herself right on the edge, one wing (the biggest one) spread out in front of her, fingers working swiftly yet thoroughly, plucking loose feathers out and righting crooked ones. Your own fingers were doing something similar with another one of her smaller wings, tentatively carding through her well-kempt plume.

The look was back, and her thoughts seemed so far away. Eyes aglow in the dim light, the stripe down her nose crinkled ever so slightly as she silently mulled something over and over in her mind.

Your fingers faltered, and she peered over her shoulder and down to where you were curled up at her side, wings sprawled over the nest like another blanket.

She held your gaze, and finally spilled those words that had been gnawing at her mind.

"They…" She opened her mouth, then closed it as if considering her next words very carefully. "Everyone knows."

You tilted your head, but with the way what you now realised was guilt had spread over her face, you knew exactly what she was talking about.

The exterminations were a contentious topic between the two of you - It almost caused you two to split within the first decade of your relationship, and it wasn't a subject you liked to think about all too often.

There was a part of you that felt vindicated. Heaven deserved to know the truth with how extreme the whole operation was, especially seeing as the exorcists just lived in and around the general public without anyone knowing, preaching about love and peace just like everybody else.

But, you knew the guilt Sera had been carrying ever since she'd made the decision. You'd had your fair share of fights that lead to one of you sleeping elsewhere at night, or even escalating to the point you returned back to your apartment for a few days just to cool off. And you'd worked past all that. Difficult, yes, but Sera was your life partner and you loved her with all your heart. Maybe in the future you'd be able to convince her to start a redemption program, like many had suggested in the past, but for now you just opened your wings and shuffled as the seraphim joined you in your joint nest.

Now it was perfect, nestled up in to crook of her neck amonst her downy feathers, indigo and gold as the night sky sat firmly outside. Blankets strewn over your legs, giant wings wrapped around your entire body - This was your personal heaven.

Sera's hands fell to your hips, thumbs rubbing against the gentle dips as her head braced against yours, dove-ish coos escaping her with every breath puffed form her nose. She was already fast asleep curled around you, all the weight now lifted from her shoulders for the time being, wings perfectly preened and delicately soft, perfect for cuddling.

Your own wings were cleaned too, a pleasant buzz tingling from where Sera had traced her loving fingers.

Chamomile tea, citrus and chashmere, soft feathers tickled your nose, and yet you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#Sera x reader #hazbin hotel sera x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x you #wlw #hazbin hotel sera

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reverseexorcist · 6 months ago

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Hi! How are you? Can you write some enemies to lovers with Lute if you feel comfortable with that? Like reader is a overlord who likes to fight every extermination day just for fun and Lute sees a worthy rival until they fall in love?

❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐧 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ❥

Oh wow I love her such a normal amount like seriously you could ask me anything about her and I would be the most normal person ever about her. But something about enemies to lover Lute with a sinner reader just hits different-

Someone here was having way more fun with the enemies to lovers aspect of this (and it's not Lute.)

(I am sorry I took so long with this request, but it was just so long and I'm juggling multiple blogs, interests and school-work rn so I'm just happy to get this one out. Thank you for being so patient <3)

➲ Lute + !F!Overlord!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 4,532 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Descriptions of gore, descriptions of body shifting/horror, tsundere Lute, lots of fighting between two idiots who are actually trying to murder each other

Three hours before extermination day. Three hours before the exorcists would descend from Heaven like a plaguing swarm to rid Hell of as many demons as they possibly could. Three hours before you could go dance with death like you usually did and scare the living shit out of winners and sinners alike with your almost insane mannerisms.

Because that's what you did for fun, apparently.

However, unlike the countless times before you'd done this, you were feeling just a little tired. Staying up late to binge the new episode of 'MAMMON'S MAGNIFICENT MUSICAL MID-SEASON SPECIAL' mightn've been the best idea you'd ever had, but it was one hundred percent worth it even as you stood proudly, staring up at the pearly gates of Heaven. From where you stood, they still looked rather bare, and so you didn't think a quick nap beforehand would be all that bad, right?

At least, that was the plan. Just a quick nap before the extermination to get your head in the game - Except you'd forgotten to put a damn alarm on and slept right through the beginning ceremony. As the holy trumpets and guitar riffs echoed throughout the scorching pit of eternal suffering, you were snoozing away peacefully in your Evil Overlord Tower™.

Or, at least, you were.

Something didn't feel right, which was odd, because you had one of the most comfortable beds in all of Hell courtesy of the instinctual fear you spread throughout the ring of pride. And when something wasn't right, you sought to make it right because you didn't deal with shit that annoyed you (such, through the power you held).

A light weight rested across you, evenly spread expertly as if whoever was standing above you was trying not to rouse you from your slumber. For a moment, you thought you'd imagined it. There was no movement from above you, and there was a split second where you considered just letting your mind relax and fall asleep again, but such thoughts didn't get you into your current status. Being an overlord meant destruction and paranoia, the two things you strove to embody.

You barely gave whoever was on top of you time to react, moving swiftly enough that for a split second, your entire body shimmered and turned invisible as you slammed your would-be attacker into the floor.

Your hands fumbled, grappling with a sleek, steel pole that you promptly threw outwards, topping the attacker in front of you over. The room around you shook violently, the lights flickering as your brain caught up with your body, trying its hardest to shake the dregs of unconsciousness from your mind.

Bold stripes stared back at you, a sleek mask emblazoned with threads of angelic steel. The sight jogged your still sleep-hazy brain.

'Oh yeah, extermination day' and you gleefully took a swipe at the exterminator in front of you. You'd just fix the damages later.

But she was fast, swift on her wings and on her feet as she ducked and rolled out of the way. You could see she was stumbling, still recovering from the shock of being thrown halfway across the room. But you could still clearly see that she wielded her weapon with pure fury and raw talent, which was certainly something you weren't used to. Other exorcists relied on the fact that normal demons couldn't hurt them, their fighting sloppy and trivial because of it. The one in front of you actually knew what she was doing.

"You're kinda rude, y'know," Rolling your shoulders, a part of you was miffed for being woken up so rudely. Another part of you was grateful for the wake-up call.

She laughed, deep and sharp. The sound made your heart flutter.

"Demon scum like you don't deserve niceties," Her grin grew, sharp edges stretching upwards. You hummed thoughtfully and shrugged your shoulders.

The exorcist charged forward, striking forward with precision startlingly quickly. But you were quicker - Ducking under the point of her spear and tackling her, grappling with her wings as the two of you rolled across the floor in a writhing mass of fury. Holy steel clashing against the might of an overlord. Deep grooves were carved in your floor, yet, as the exorcist managed to tuck her head and roll with the momentum till she was on her feet in one elegant swoop, you couldn't find yourself caring. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, and you almost laughed as she stabbed at you with her spear once more. You parried it almost expertly, cackling before you managed to grab the pole between your palms.

It almost seemed evenly matched between the two of you, an unstoppable force fighting against an immovable object. The poor spear quivered, bending as you both quarrelled over it like young children until it splintered roughly between your palms, crushed beneath the sheer force you exerted. That seemed to get the exorcist's attention.

She stumbled backwards, no doubt thoroughly pissed off at her now shortened weapon - But even that didn't deter the bloodlust in her step. Half of it was thrown away, the broken half that held no pointed end, and chucked it at your face. It missed, and instead, it rattled ominously somewhere behind you in time with the flickering lights, but with your attention split for just a breath, the exorcist lunged forward and scraped a shallow wound in your forearm. It stung, numbly, and the wisk of air as she jumped warned you belatedly. Crimson trickled tantalisingly down your arm as the air between you sizzled, thick and heavy with some undeterminate feeling that made your blood thrum with electricity.

You cackled, grin growing to match the angel's, jaw splitting further than it probably should've as your bones cracked seamlessly, form growing larger as you felt the power of endless stolen souls burning your flesh. Your head brushed against the ceiling, bending to fit in the limited space - You could only relish in the confusion and fear that rolled over the exorcist's face, quickly masked with the solemn, set expression of a battle-seasoned soldier.

However stoic she seemed, you saw your opening and rocketed forward with speed that seemed unsightly for how big you were, pulling yourself against the floor like the demon you were. With the force of a semi-truck, you slammed the exorcist into the wall, fracturing the framework and no doubt rattling her entire being to her very core. You could feel the point of her spear pressed faintly against your chest, a gentle reminder that you quickly snagged and tossed the item far across the room.

Face to face, almost nose to nose. A twisted scarl danced across her face, pearly white fangs stained with spatters of golden blood. It was almost beautiful with how it shimmered in the darkness, like liquid stardust.

"You better fucking kill me, hell-spawn," She spat in your face, fingernails carving angry crescents in your skin.

You laughed, because her words were rather cliche, after all.

"Y'know," You mused, "maybe knowing I'm down here will make you try harder next time."

That did not ease her scowl, but that didn't really bother you, because you had other places to be right now - You weren't going to waste your entire extermination day on one singular angel after all.

You threw her out of the nearest window.

She would be fine, with her wings and all, but it was still funny watching the momentary panic spread across her face before she realised the same thing you did.

Furiously, she flared out her banded wings, scattering loose a flurry of black and white feathers, specks of gold blood arcing in the crimson sky around her. Dazed as she was, her fierce eyes flickered and spun before honing in on her mobile target, namely, you. A titan of the underworld, an overlord in hell - An ear-piercing, spine-chilling cackle echoing around the eastern side of the Pentagram as you pulled yourself from your tower, monstrous figure all too elegant for how big you were, hauntingly so.

And that just made her blood boil, to see a sinner escape her clutches and laugh like nothing was wrong - Or worse, to laugh and knock down her subordinates straight from the sky like they were nothing more than bugs. As little as she cared about the fledglings on their first escapades, that was her hard work going to waste because the littles had no idea how to use their wings.

And that just pissed her off all that much more.

The little exorcist you'd hucked from the top floor window was the furthest from your mind as your galavant around hell started again. She was a little spitfire, but nothing you hadn't ground into the dirt before and gotten away with. Even the array of cuts and slashes littering your body, courtesy of her spear, didn't mean anything beyond a harsh sting that would be gone within the next month. Yet nothing she did was permanent, which is why you didn't exactly pay attention to the screeching war cry of rage followed by a sharp twinge between your shoulder blades.

Which irked you, but not that much. You twisted your neck in an unnatural manner, bones creaking as your form bent in on itself, teeth fastening around the stab-happy angel's wing before wrenching her away from you. The machete she'd snagged from elsewhere remained buried just beneath your shoulder, you absentmindedly reminded yourself to remember it after this whole ordeal was over. Angelic steel was no good when left to fester in an open wound.

It could've been the same angel, probably was for all you knew. All their stripes looked the same, and plenty had horns curved back like hers (you had a collection of similar exorcist helmets lining your basement, and you still struggled to tell them apart when not labelled.)

But it was those eyes - They were different, or her mask was at least. You'd never seen obsidian glass carved with an 'x' like that marked over an eye, but there was something about it that was so alluring. It was shiny, unique, and belonged to an especially bloodthirsty angel, and you had what was probably the perfect spot to display it back in your den.

Greed made you strike out, grabbing at her helmet and tussling with the exorcist as the two of you fell to the ground. You may have had the size advantage, much, much larger than the lean figure writhing beneath you, but she was still incredibly strong. Her wings were annoying too, beating and kicking up dust that made your eyes water and ache, battering against your face and drawing a headache up, thrumming against the back of your skull. But you wanted that helmet more than anything, and she seemed extremely determined to keep it on.

The force of it all sent a splintering crack through the surface, shining a brilliant bright white like the threads of angelic steel melted and spilled like blood as one horn snapped clean off beneath your palm.

Those eyes.

They almost made you falter, as gold as angel blood. They were beautiful.

The exorcist, however, was not as thrilled.

She snarled, whipped her head around and sunk her teeth into whatever of your flesh she could reach.

It was more like a hell-kitten nipping at your skin, but you still flinched and let her go, watching as she slumped, cradling a crooked wing. A swelling of a certain emotion welled in your gut, something that made you feel small and achy and you absolutely hated it, but you couldn't do anything. Or, more aptly, you didn't want to do anything as you merely watched the exorcist flare her wings out, still beating strongly despite the fact one of them surely was broken.

The trumpets sounded. She made a rude gesture (many rude gestures, actually) before she grabbed the discarded weapon and the broken curve of her horn before disappearing back into the flock.

It was almost creepy, with the way your eyes watched her without blinking.

"You-"

"You!"

It was that time of year already.

The puffed-up exorcist looked angry, but no more than the last few times you'd seen her. You'd come to associate her venomous scowl, sharp wings and pointed spear as a sort've unique welcome between the two of you, in the same manner that your oversized overlord form bent out of proportion was a gratuity you reserved for your exorcist and your exorcist alone.

Because it was fun, and something you two did together.

"I want to try something," You mused out loud. The angel in front of you didn't respond to your remark, circling you like a severely ticked-off lion. You didn't expect her to, intently watching her as your neck kept twisting and twisting, bending like an owl.

Even with every muscle in her body tensed, she still wasn't prepared for how fast your strikes were. One and two, sharp against her chest as your hulking silhouette snapped and quashed itself into a far more humanoid one, the exorcist's favourite blade now held loosely between your hands. As if it would make her feel better, you kicked a machete, similar to the one she used in your first fight, toward her. Coated in crimson blood of sinners, yet still undoubtedly sharp.

"Here, now it's more of an even fight," You shrugged your shoulders, stancing up.

She scoffed.

"Is that really the best you can do?" She sneered, tapping her foot and folding her wings back high and proud. You quirked your eyebrow.

"Huh?" Your head tilted just a bit too far to be considered 'cute' or 'puppyish'. The exorcist grumbled.

"Your form. It's shit," She motioned with the tip of her blade. "Tuck your arms in, for fucks sake. No wonder your swings are so sloppy."

For once, you seem flustered and tried your hardest to follow her instructions. Heat swelled in her chest, almost like pride. But she would never be proud of someone like you.

"And speaking of, adjust your grip. Move your dominant hand up and your non-dominant hand down - For the love of anything holy, how can you be so shit with the bare basics!"

"Okay! Sorry!" You shifted your weight and tried to do as she told, almost forgetting where exactly you were. The exorcist only felt her grin grow more sadistic, watching how small you suddenly seemed in front of her, and how pathetic you were at actually using a weapon like a somewhat normal person.

It was sad.

(It reminded her of her bright-eyed, curious fledgling classes. All of them eager to learn about how to serve the lord above.)

"Like this?" You question, insane eyes almost reflecting the same eagerness of her students.

It was all wrong, but that was what she wanted.

"Ha. No."

This time she was the one covering the distance between you two with frightening speed, flinging herself forward with the momentum from her wings. The noise you made plucked at her heart, that startled screech clashing with the harsh sound of metal as you brought her own weapon up against her.

It was a brief moment of weakness, one quickly lost as you found your footing and started swinging. For how amateur your swings were, they were more than halfway decent compared to the littles fighting closer to the portal into Heaven. She could work with this, make it feel like you were actually a challenge instead of just another run-of-the-mill sinner.

She could see the way your eyes were glowing, looking all too content with yourself as you somehow matched her footwork and swordsmanship. You were a bit all over the place, but you were also incredibly smart - Picking up on her unique fighting style that not one other exorcist had, and you were doing it fast. Puffing up, almost preening.

"Aha! Now for some witty back-and-forth banter!" You declared out of nowhere, swings much more confident. She narrowed her eyes, infuriated. Just when she thought you were starting to take this whole thing seriously.

The exorcist remained eerily silent, not even puffs of exhausted breath or grunts with each collision of the blades.

"Huh, yeah, not really sure where to go with that?" You shrugged with the brief lull in fighting, darting backwards and sheathing your weapon with just a tad too much confidence for her taste.

Which, every part of this felt like a trap, but she trusted her own skills enough to not fall prey to the like of a sinner. Expertly, more than expertly, she matched those steps as you fell back, advancing, wings arced out as eyes aglow with holy fire.

Only for you to, once again, take her off-guard with your usual tactic. Darting forward, ducking under her blade and kicking her feet out from underneath her. She didn't make a sound but refused to go down with a fight and grabbed at the back of your outfit.

Her vision briefly went dark, the impact of something heavy crashing against her torso and knocking the wind right out of her. Her helmet cracked again, which was par for the course ever since she started brawling with you every extermination.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," Through the new crack in her helmet, she could almost perfectly make out your face. A bit too perfect, and way too close. Close enough to see her pale reflection in the dark of your eyes.

Your, admittedly, pretty eyes.

She felt like carving her own heart out rather than admitting she'd ever thought that in the first place.

"Get. Off. Me." She snarled. Meanwhile, stars practically glowed in your eyes.

"Oh wow! Dropping the 'Hellspawn' and 'Demon-scum'? Could this be love?" You were clearly joking, but her own heart decided to betray her thoughts, flipping in graceful arcs that she'd seen you perform one too many times.

She bit you again.

Five hours.

It had been five hours into the extermination.

With a ranking tally of two hundred and fifty or so demons, the exorcist figured she was fine to have a quick look around.

Because, through all this time, she'd seen neither hide nor hair of you. She didn't want to admit that she'd been loitering around your tower, knowing your tendency to throw yourself into the fray, dancing like you were tempting a lightning storm. She didn't want to admit that she'd been expecting to see your annoying face peering out at her from a nearby rooftop or to descend upon her like a leaping cat, or even to stroll up and start talking to her like the two of you were old friends. None of that happened.

The streets were rather empty, if you didn't take into account the blazing wrecks of cars, broken corpses and puddles of crimson blood puddling around the divets in sulphur roads. There were no moving, 'living' souls scurrying around, and that was what worried her.

Or, no. Not worried. She wasn't at all worried at the thought of you gutted somewhere, dying in a pool of your own blood, banished to the forever void that came after a second death. No, she was pissed at the thought that someone else had managed to kill you after all those years of the same cat-and-mouse dance. Or, more aptly, cat and fox dance. That honour was rightly hers, and she'd smite down any other exorcist that dared to stand in her way.

In her way of killing you. Yes.

The exorcist pinned back her wings, sheathing her weapon and scuffing her boot against brimstone in annoyance. This was bullshit.

There was no fun in the exterminations without your jeering taunts, or odd remarks, your instance of fighting absolutely everyone you saw. Along with the annoyance of you ditching her mid-battle to rip feathers from one of her cohorts, along with a certain warmth she felt when you came bounding back towards her, bloodlust in your eyes and that same weapon you'd stolen from her all those years back pointed directly at her.

The angel only stopped once her boot stepped in liquid gold. It rippled, her thoughtful reflection mirrored and shimmering on its surface. Amber ichor, melding into the red from a nearby puddle, the mingling of sinner and winner blood alike.

What was the chance? She reasoned. But only one demon so far had managed to draw blood from an exorcist.

With a set snarl, she followed the trail. Her bootsteps were the only sound ricocheting around the dinky alley she found herself tracing.

"Oh, it's you..." She almost jumped out of her boots at the sound of your voice. Although, it didn't sound like you, per se. It was croaky and weak, dull and mild-mannered to put it lightly.

You were resting against a brick wall, clutching your front, eyes dimmed in the bright light. Squinting, as if a headache was plaguing your every thought.

Beside you, one of her cohorts rested too. Not dead, but her mask was all but shattered, one of her wings horribly ripped. She wasn't sure if she'd ever fly properly again.

But, you were not dead! Which was good news, because it meant she would be the one to finally slit your throat and watch the light drain from your eyes. And you knew it too, with the way your head kept tilted in her direction, a thoughtful twinkle in your eye.

"So, how's your day been?" Still playful, still joking. It was definitely you.

She scoffed.

"How's the blood loss?" She quipped back, the first she'd ever done so. Properly, at least. You laughed wetly, gagging on your own blood. Even she couldn't help but chuckle, dragging the tip of her weapon up until it rested gently over your heart.

Your laughter died down. Her hand was shaking.

Everything around you was quiet, like the two of you were submerged in a solid bubble of silence. Your ragged breathing was the only sound above a whisper, wet and ragged.

"Can I see your face?" Your voice was as soft as she'd ever heard it. Genuine.

She hummed, quirking a single brow. Not that you could see, because of her helm.

"Why would I do that?" She'd meant for it to sound more venomous. It didn't. You tried your hardest to shrug your shoulders, wincing in pain.

"Well," You sucked in a pained breath, "if I have to die here, the last thing I'd like to see is your face." Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, smudging the whorls of gold and red blood alike as they dribbled down your cheeks.

Something within her snapped. Dead. Death. A future forever without you. If she'd thought today's extermination had been boring without you, she couldn't even imagine any more.

That's what she told herself, anyway. A future without you was not one she wanted to live, for any reason.

The clank of angelic steel broke the atmosphere, harsh against the bloody floor. Fingers fuzzy and numbed, clasping as the latches that kept her exorcist helmet together. One flick, then another, a sharp snap. Dark obsidian peeled away, horns lifted till a silver-sharp face so out of place in the depths of hell appeared.

"I was right," You croaked. "You are... Pretty woman."

You devolved into another flurry of hacking coughs. The angel felt her feathers flare up, alarmed.

"Yeah, yeah," You waved her off, "don't show weakness or whatever, thanks lieutenant." Your chest crackled painfully as you just regained some unneeded breaths. The angel in front of you stumbled, anxiously padding forward as her boots clacked against the ground.

"Look, I can die happy now. Was fun fighting against you - Really fun, actually. And look! You finally came out on top this time, eh?" You tried to wink, you really did. It just didn't have the same effect when you were bleeding out in front of her. Which made her stomach drop and her adrenaline spike.

'This goes against everything I've ever done' She squinted, furrowing her brow. Gold eyes almost glowed like hot iron, fingers clasped firmly against the hem of her outfit. 'But, y'know, I could always say I was just trying to save my flockmate.'

And she tugged.

Her shirt ripped, the sound harsh against your ears, but it left her with a hefty chunk of fabric that slid against her chainmail gloves. The Lord would smite her down if he ever found out about this, but chances are, in the belly of hell, it would be a secret between only the two of you.

Hours ticked onwards, slipping through her fingers far too quickly. She was just lucky you were as strong as you were, holding on to your consciousness with all your might as she worked her magic. Stuff the wound, stop the bleeding, heal and hope to everything that was holy that angelic magic didn't sear your flesh the same way their steel did.

Of course, you being you, airy quips were thrown around, keeping the air light as your wound slowly healed. It was nasty, there was no doubt about that, your first permanent scar. But at least this way, you'd make it out with your life.

"How did you even let her catch you off guard?" She questioned you after hours of silence.

"I'll be honest, I thought she was you based on her footsteps," You sighed, exhaling softly as she tugged at your makeshift bandages. You got no proper response outside of her light scoff. Somehow, that still made you burn hot with shame.

In perfect unison, the two of you looked out to the horizon. Golden light spilled down from heaven, the portal slowly growing more and more, ripping open a way back to their holy home. Six minutes till the trumpets would sound, if you had to guess. The angel tutted, disapproving of the way time worked. The thought was enough to make you crack a smile.

"I have to go," She seemed hesitant.

"I'll be fine," Even if hoisting yourself to your feet almost made you black out, lugging yourself back to your tower shouldn't have been a big problem when you could literally see one of the back entrances.

That didn't ease her thoughts. She was thinking, mind ticking away as she thought and thought and thought. She kept thinking, until she slowly reached up and snagged a rounded, down-fluff feather from her puffed-up shoulder. Pristine and warm to the touch, it washed away the blood as she carefully placed it into your shaking palm.

No words were shared between you as she rested you against the wall, letting you steady yourself and she hoisted her fellow exorcist onto her shoulders. After helping her shimmy back into her iconic helmet, she glanced backwards at you before stepping toward the light.

"You better not die before I can kill you." Her words were soft, unlike her sharp exterior. You could only match the assumed small, hidden smile. With a hum, you felt only a single name come to mind.

"Yeah, course I won't Lute."

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#lute x reader #hazbin lute #lute x female reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x you #wlw

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reverseexorcist · 9 months ago

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★ 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 ★

Wow just realised this entire time my asks have been off woopsie ●_● Should be fixed now.

Anyway, since y'all went feral over this dynamic (and I can't blame you), here's more of Carmilla with her adopted fallen angel child.

I know I said part 2, but I'm honestly considering making this a sort've slice-of-life series seeing as I absolutely love this dyanmic and I'm having some serious brainrot over these two.

Part 1 ↫ Right Here

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !Fallen Angel!Reader

➲ Romantic ☐, Platonic ☒

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 3,662 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, somewhat depressed reader, minor mentions of gore, sleep deprived writing, potential ooc Carmilla, mother mode Carmilla increased

Getting used to your new life required more effort than you ever thought was ever needed. Getting used to living in hell was a chore in of itself, and quite a tedious one, and getting used to the new family you now found yourself surrounded by only piled on a tad more stress.

Unlike heaven, the land below was almost always swathed in some sort've darkness - There was literally no day night cycle at all and it was fucking with your head. Your poor circadian rhythm was completely thrown all over the place when three in the morning was just as bright at two in the afternoon. Not to mention the smoke ever present in the air. You weren't sure which you hated more between the two.

(Probably the air. You actually liked it when you breathed and didn't hack up a lung.)

It was a lot, especially when you were getting used to your new wingless life.

(Which sucked, by the way. Every time your fight or flight response kicked in, you found yourself straining your back muscles trying to lift off with nothing to support you and it made you want to cry every single time it happened.)

However, all of this was way better than what could've happened had Carmilla not saved your life. Your back still ached and the phantom pain still tortured you at night, the feather-fluff nubs of your old wings only served as a painful reminder. As much as you hated to admit it, often times you'd spend the entire night longing for the newly comforting touch of your adopted mother figure…

Wow. That felt weird to admit. That and a whole lot of other repressed emotions and memories.

You groaned and sighed, clutching your head and threading your fingers through your tussled bedhair. Your back muscles flexed, the sound of rustling feathers muffled by the mattress. The sensation was weird enough to make you 'gwak', roll on to your stomach and faceplant into your pillow. It was more natural that way, anyway - When one has wings it was rather difficult to sleep on your back, afterall, at least after your first growth spurt. You never thought you would miss the feeling, but you fought to find any silver lining in your new life. And in a world that was mostly shades of red, silver was quite a luxury.

Your somewhat depressing quiet time was broken by the gentle tapping of steel carefully approaching your room.

"Mi peque?" You didn't have the energy to jump, already having heard the delicate 'tink' of Carmilla's pointed shoes against the hardword floor of your new home. Her silhouette took up most of the doorway, the faint light spilling in from the hallway making the angelic steel decorating her body glow, much like the warm lull of her crimson eyes. Your head tiltied to the side to stare at her, but otherwise you made no movement.

She blinked once and ducked her head to step into your room. If you were, well, you from about a week ago, you probably would've been shitting bricks at the sight. It was lowkey terrifying, mostly because Carmilla was so much taller than you and had the expression of a constantly pissed off commander or something. However, it didn't scare you - Mostly because your worst nightmare had already come true.

"Can't sleep?" Her voice was soft, something that completely contrasted her outward exterior. It was soothing, though, and you found yourself not caring when she settled herself on the end of your bed.

(Your new bed. Your new bed that you could, for once, comfortably stretch out on.)

"Something like that," You mumbled, practically whispered. Your eyes glowed much like Carmilla's, like a mischevious cat from your spot hidden under your multiple blankets. "It's, mm, weird. Sleeping by myself."

Her eyebrow quirked, a silent invitation to continue if you wanted to. Maybe? Emotions were still hard to read for you.

"Well, because I'm used to sleeping in the barracks with the rest of my platoon. It's apparently really comforting, seeing as I haven't had a good sleep since I got here," You grappled your blankets a little tighter, as if doing so would provide you with some sort've phantom comfort that you secretly longed for.

A breath of silence hung steadily in the air, as if both your minds were churning on what to say next.

"I'm sorry."

"M'sorry."

You both said at the same time, which seemed just a little cliche. Slinking out from underneath your covers, you couldn't help by eye the demon across from you warily.

"Why're you sorry?"

"Because, I'll admit, I'm a little rusty," She reached up and untied her buns, letting her hair loosen and tumble down her back. "It's been a while since my girls were young like you-" You scoffed, which prompted an amused smirk "And it's not like I know anything about taking care of an angel."

"Well, you're doing better than what they were doing up there," You blankly motioned upwards where the pearly gates shone brightly in the sky like a constant sun. "Plus, I'd say you're dealing with me as gracefully as you can."

"Elaborate?" Carmila carded her fingers through her hair, tilting her head curiously. The mountain on your shoulders threatened to stumble, and by god you were ready to let it fall.

"Well, it's not like any heaven-born has parents. Heaven was always all about equality and shit, and every single child was raised by the community. And yeah, it was all rainbows and crap because everyone was loved mostly equally, but it sucked because I was always just another nestling that someone had to keep an eye on," You brought your knees up to your chest. "That's why, when the lieutenant gave me her offer I didn't refuse, cause I thought 'wow, someone noticed me!' and it was a feeling I chased ever since."

It felt nice to let it all out for once. Not like anyone else around you back then really cared, cause they all went through the same thing.

Beside you, the covers rustled. Carmilla opened her arms wordlessly, minutely enough that if you didn't want to, you could probably brush the motion off as stretching. But, the warmth the she radiated was sorely tempting, and your little serotonin deprived brain was severly touch-starved.

Wow, four days into your new life, and you found yourself snuggling into the arms of one of Hell's overlords. And, sullying the lord's name, by god you loved it.

Not a single word had to be uttered between the two of you, not as long as you didn't want it. That was the silent message that you both clearly understood.

It kind've made you want to cry, if you were being honest with yourself. In a place that had seemingly been perfect, you found your life lacking, and in the burning pits of eternal damnation, you'd found yourself feeling loved for the first time since you could remember. The way Carmilla's hold around you grew tighter, just ever so slightly - A comforting weight draped across your shoulders as you leaned into her warmth. That, along with her mellow breathing, it felt homely and nostalgic.

Tugging your blankets a little tighter around yourself, you didn't even fight the way your eyelids drooped.

Two weeks.

It felt like a lot longer, but you'd been living in hell for fourteen days, and it already felt like you'd been living here for months.

Well, it certainly didn't help that you never really left the main house. Like, ever. And you, for one, weren't complaining. The burning pits of Hell left much to be desired, and as a little angel who hadn't even had her first adult moult yet, you didn't really fancy going galavanting off around Hell, even if Carmilla was hovering over your shoulder like a helicopter parent.

Still, after the first week where you'd discovered and explored all the places that you were allowed to (the allure of the armory was great, but the potential wrath of an angry demon was greater), there wasn't really anything to do around the house. Sure, it was probably one of the safest places in the eternal firepit, but neither Carmilla nor Clara and Odette were ever really around, and it left you bored out of your mind.

Sprawled out across a rather decadent couch, soaking up the hellfire from outside, you found yourself wishing that something would happen that would hopefully prevent your mind from rotting further. But, if the big man from upstairs was paying attention, he surely must've hated you, because literally nothing was happening.

Unless…

You sat up, straining your ears.

Nope. Absolutely nothing.

You flopped backwards dramatically, back of your hand against your forehead and all.

Maybe, if you still had your weapon, you could've spent your time training or practicing or something. There was a training room somewhere in the house, and you weren't explicitly banned from using it, and it wasn't exactly a useless way to spend your time.

(At least that way you'd be able to get some reasonable exercise in rather than just moping around all day.)

Maybe that was something you could ask Carmilla later. She wasn't the type to be against learning self defense, however you had no idea if even she deemed yourself too young to learn how to fight. She certainly was not happy when she found out about how you were sent to fight with baby feathers still warming your wings, that was for sure.

At least you had something to talk about when she got home.

…

"You want to learn how to fight?" As expected, Carmilla didn't seem entirely thrilled at your idea.

"Not necessarily. Just, how to use weapons?" It was more of a question than an answer, but it seemed to ease the tenseness in her shoulders.

"What type of weapons? Swords? Spears? Firearms?" She fixed you with a look. "If you want to get started, the first thing you could do is be a little more specific."

Which was certainly not the answer you were expecting, so you took a few moments to blue screen.

"Well, I wasn't too fond of using spears… Swords don't sound to appealing either…" Your eyes started drifting, and soon you found that your real answer was right in front of you.

"If possible," You wrung your hands nervously, "could I use shoes like you do?"

Honestly, Carmilla's unique fighitng style had piqued your interest ever since your head became clear enough to notice. Having your hands free sounded more appealing than lugging around a heavy blade.

The demoness paused for a moment, completely silent as she studied you with a stern gaze. It wasn't negative or positive, if anything it was most likely calculative. You weren't entirely stupid, even if you were young, and you weren't naive. Carmilla was weighing the pros and cons of teaching you her trade.

"Why? They aren't exactly easy to use," That wasn't a no, at least.

"I don't like melee weapons, not hand-held ones at least," There was more to your answer that Carmilla already knew. Months of cycling through weapons till you landed on one you could somewhat use you realised that you absolutely hated using hand-held weapons.

Carmilla sighed, a small smile appearing on her face.

"Okay, but it's not like I have spare angelic steel laying around. We'll have to wait till I can melt more down," She mused, almost seeming excited about crafting you your own weapon. But her words only confused you more.

"But, we do, don't we?" You furrowed your brows.

"The steel in the armory is meant for prepaid orders-"

"I was talking about my old helmet," You hoped that didn't sound too rude, interupting her. "I mean, the entire thing is is technically angelic. I don't know if it's steel exactly, but I know for a fact it's just as solid!" Now you were the one musing.

Like mother like daughter, almost.

"We could certainly try…" The two of you shared a look.

"Like… Right now?" You prodded almost mischeviously.

Tired as she was, Carmilla couldn't help but falter and smile, your enthusiasm almost contagious.

"Well, we can have a look."

After that it was only a matter of days. Carmilla was far more invested in your new project than you had expected, and even Clara and Odette had briefly joined in, if only to get a sneak peak at the workings behind an exorcists helmet. For the briefest of moments, with all four of you crowded around a table with tidy plans sprawled all over its surface, it almost felt like you were a family. Which, did prompt a stray thought in your head.

After gently pulling the threads of angelic steel from the rivets in the helmet's horns, you couldn't help but bundle them to your chest. They weren't exactly big, nothing compared to the horns of a full fledged exorcist, but they were still something.

So, while your mo-… Carmilla was busy melting down the odd, almost obsidian material of your old helmet in preparation of your new shoes, you were busy tinkering away with your own little side project. Of course, it was hard to explain the various little burns marks littered across your palms that had started appearing, but that didn't deter you one bit.

In fact, during this time, you found yourself shyly approaching the taller of Carmilla's other daughters, Odette.

One thing about her that confused you was the fact that her horns were fake, merely attatched to the band that held her hair up. But right now, that was exactly what you needed.

It was a sweet sight, honestly, at least to Carmilla.

You were huddled against Odette, listening with rapt attention as she explained something to you, finger brushing against what was most likely some sort've plan.

With a smile, Carmilla got back to work.

At the end of it all, you were left with a pair of shoes similar to the overlord's. Pointed and shiny. Sharp and deadly, yet oddly comfortable. The only key difference was the colour - Forged from the scrapped glass of your old helmet, the shoes were jet black inlaid with threads of silver, trailing all the way up the ballet ribbons.

And with your shoes, a matching set of your own horns. Odette seemed proud at the sight of you with small, obsidian horns branching from your head, unable to stand still as you clutched your new weapons to your chest gleefully.

There was a massive learning curve to your new weapons, but at least you weren't bored around the house anymore. Most of your time over the next month had been dedicated to learning how to move around in your new shoes, building both the strength and balance so you could walk, let alone run. So many bruises had been blemished into your skin, but in the end you were able to walk almost as easily as Carmilla did.

(Of course, the demoness had way more experience under her belt, but you were still doing pretty damn well.)

And during that time, the bond between you, Clara and Odette had only grown. Sure, they were only around as much as their mother, but after donning your horns, it seemed whatever barrier that had been built between you and the sisters had been torn down. Seeing as the two could also walk en pointe like their mother, many a helpful tip had been shared from them which served to get you walking faster.

It was endearing as it was funny to watch.

But, being couped up inside all day everyday was starting to wear you down, which was certainly starting to show with the way your pep had slowed down significantly.

With a heavy heart, Carmilla finally unleashed you on the world outside, accompanied by Clara and Odette.

In reality, you were just tailing behind the sisters on one of their usual deliveries. This way you could stretch your legs and practice on terrain other than the smooth floors of your home, which, while it was more difficult, was learnt within no time.

As dreary as the place looked, there were certainly sights to see around ever different corner. You'd found yourself tempted to wander off every five minutes or so, especially when you passed by a rather bright looking… hotel? The entire vibe seemed friendly and inviting, unlike the rest of Hell, but you really didn't fancy getting lost, so sticking close by Clara and Odette was the most sane option in the moment.

Or, at least that was the plan.

Really, with your head on a swivel trying to grasp every sight and sound (which you regretted not a moment later) you'd lost sight of the sisters and found yourself completely by your lonesome.

Which… Fuck.

That wasn't the most ideal position, especially when you really couldn't do more than walk in your new shoes, but they couldn't have gotten far, right?

You were wrong. Turning either corners of the street yielded no Clara or Odette, which only made your heart sink further into your stomach because you really didn't fancy getting cornered in an alley.

Backtracking, you tried your hardest to think. Perhaps, if you could find your way back to the hotel, someone there could help you? It was wishful thinking, because this was Hell after all, but the aura was so different compared to the rest of the ring of wrath that maybe, just this once, luck would be on your side.

But of course, since this was you, luck was mercilessly right out of your reach. Not a moment later, a rambunctious howl pierced the air and a group - a pack? Of hellhounds started approaching you. Which, y'know, wasn't good, especially with the way their ears were pinned back and grins plastered across their faces.

Oh shit.

You started speed walking away, or your best attempt at it, in what you hoped was the direction of the hotel. Down in the streets without either of your guides, it all seemed like one continuous labarynth of red, LEDs and very questionable stores. And, as it turned out, lots of dead ends that you could easily get cornered in.

With the blood thrumming in your ears, heart pumping in your chest loud enough that it shook your head and just the general sense of 'oh shit I am so fucked', you really didn't pay attention to whatever the hounds were spouting off about. Lots of snapping of teeth and snarls, some crude gestures that made your gut twist anxiously and your feathers rustle nervously.

(You were seriously considering using a shoe as a knife. It wasn't like it was impossible with how sharp they were.)

At least, that was your train of thought. Until a resounding bang pretty much deafended you, echoing a chorus of ringing in your ears as the middlemost hound collapsed, head exploding with the force of the bullet that lodged itself firmly within the back of his disintegrated skull.

With dramatic timing, the others peered over their shoulders, only to be met with the towering, thoroughly pissed off form of Carmilla Carmine.

The barrel of her rifle was tinted with holy silver, but she seemed perfectly happy and prepared to behead them with a well placed kick. Whichever worked, you knew Carmilla prioritised your safety over the method of execution in the end. And in the end, the alley was scattered with various corpses in various states of limb loss, and you were carefully toted away in the arms of Carmilla.

She was furious. Probably. Maybe. You couldn't really tell. her face was completely stoney, and you were still awful when it came to identifying emotions. You assumed most of the anger had been taken out on the unsuspecting assholes that had cornered you. And for some reason, that only made you more anxious.

Not being able to tell what she was thinking was off. Back in Heaven, you could tell when Lute was pissed off, or proud, or indifferent, or whatever other emotion she was feeling at the time because she didn't really give two shits about what the recruits thought of her. And at least that way you could prepare on how to react. If she was angry, you knew to stay out of her way. If she looked indifferent, you knew you had to work harder in training. If she was proud, well, also best to stay out of her way so you didn't ruin her mood.

You whimpered and huddled a little closer. Carmilla clutched you a little tighter.

"Are you alright?" She finally asked once you were close enough to home that is was mostly just her employees around the two of you.

"Please don't be mad at Clara or Odette. It was my fault for getting lost," Was what you went with anyway. Carmilla shushed you gently.

"I'm not mad, I just want to know if you're okay."

Which completely threw you off. But you just went with it.

"M'fine. You got there before they could do anything," Those words seem to put her mind at ease, her shoulders visibly untensing as she exhaled a long sigh.

She hugged you, closer and tighter to her chest as if scared you were about to disappear from her hold. And you could only return the gesture, sinking into her comforting warmth. It made you feel small, almost like a little nestling on her first trip out of the nursery, but you found that you didn't really give two shits in the moment because you felt completely, wholly safe right where you were.

"Mi peque, mi querida, mi corazón," She uttered softly, "never wander from your siblings again."

Despite the firm tone, you could feel the care dripping from her words. You sighed and relaxed.

"Of course, mother."

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #platonic #hazbin #hazbin carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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reverseexorcist · 9 months ago

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★ 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝 ★

"If it's alright could I request Carmilla Carmine x a fem reader who's a fallen angel? Like maybe they met during extermination and got their wings ripped off for not wanting to kill Carmilla's kids or they were already in hell with Carmilla for some time before the extermination? If you don't want to do this that's totally fine, and sorry if this isn't how to request stuff :)."

Honestly, with how this ended, I'm really tempted to write a much fluffier part 2 to this

Part 2 ↫ Right here

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !Fallen Angel!Reader

➲ Romantic ☐, Platonic ☒

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 3,462 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, descriptions of gore/blood, canonical Lute slander (sorry Lute), romantic or platonic wasn't requested so I went with platonic to fit the story more (if the requester wants romantic just feel free to ask me), mother mode Carmilla (she might be a bit ooc because of this),

Oh wow.

Oh wow were you shaking.

You couldn't tell if it was from the excitement or the nerves - Probably both if you were being honest with yourself, but you couldn't shake off the vibrating feeling tingling beneath your skin that made you want to fly laps around heaven. Your stomach was doing flips, but you led mask only reflected your nearly psychopathic grin and twitching eye.

Even after your lieutenant Lute shot you a stern look, no doubt pissed off because you couldn't sit still for five goddamn seconds, you still couldn't resist fidgeting with your spear. It was sparkly, and somewhat heavy, and a murderous weapon that was entirely yours! It was also cold, freezing almost. Even against your gloves it made your palms feel numb and seemed to shine in sync with your own valiant excitement.

Baby's first extermination, basically. While the name certainly sounded scary, you'd been waiting for this day for six months (you and the other forty-five cadets in your platoon) and you were ready to do your best! Sure, you were still technically a rookie, hanging around the flock and bringing up the rear of the exorcists, but this was how you proved yourself to rise the ranks, right?

Your heart stopped beating in your chest when you finally reached the front. Holy shit, that was the high seraphim! Sera, right? Oh wow, she really was much much taller in person, towering above the clustering sea of black and white murderous intent. Her outward vibe was motherly and caring, but you could see the glint of distain, guilt and regret sparking in the deepest depths of her eyes. Which was confusing, because you were doing a good thing, right? Ridding the divine planes of sinners irredeemable souls.

The thoughts crowded your mind - Evil, twisted monsters crawling around like bugs in the brimstone crowded crevices of hell. You could only imagine the satisfaction of killing your first hell spawn.

It would have to be cool no doubt. Something big with lots of teeth and claws and that could breathe fire! You had to come home with a cool story to brag about. You'd heard the tales from all your superiors. From everyone including the first man Adam himself, your respectably awesome (if a little terrifying) lieutenant Lute, to the other lieutenants like Michael and Gabriel. You'd have to off a demon built like a mountain to get their attention.

And by the big man himself, you were going to do it. Even if it took you a hundred years, you could already see yourself commanding a group just like yours, bearing a helmet with horns big and curved and bold, black stripes stippled along your ivory wings.

With a very particular pep in your step, you saluted the high seraphim Sera respectively, head cocked up just so you could regard her kindly warmth in fullness. Her smile didn't reach her eyes, and although she swiftly sent you on your way with the rest of your platoon, you couldn't help but let your nerves sway your resolve ever so slightly.

It didn't matter though! You unfurled your wings with perhaps a bit too much of a dramatic flair, but with your spear in hand and helm polished so it shined with malevolent glory, you kicked off without a second thought, tailing right behind where you were supposed to be.

Your first impression of hell was the heat.

With the extermination already well under way, raging fires were already burning up half of the city sending whorls of smog up into the air. You easily battered it away with a few strong flaps of your wings. With your head on the swivel, your eagle-eyes peered around the desolate land for the forms of the sinners struggling to thrive below, silhouettes hidden by the thick layer of smoke and ash blanketing the landscape.

Lieutenant Lute furled out her wings below you, a screeching war cry echoing throughout the battlefield as she all but left your rookie platoon in the metaphorical dust. The sound itself only spurred you on, itching for the blood of a demon on the blade of your angelic spear. Without a second thought, you tucked your wings to you sides and dived below, headfirst into the fray.

Billowing flames licked past you harmlessly, though they burned like hell (which seemed rather apt, considering where you). You didn't falter, flying through the embers like a goddamn phoenix ready to cleanse the realm sprawled out beneath you. The solid wingbeats of two of your fellow cadets only strengthened your resolution, a holy fire burning in your soul - An itch to clear the filth of devil scum away. This was the chaotic strength that your captain had sought to build in you, and now you were finally able to act on it.

But everywhere you looked, you only found simple, humanoid souls running and screaming in terror. Eyes wide, half-dead or bloodied beyond belief as they scrambled to find shelter from the onslaught of exorcists like yourself. Nowhere could you see the mangled forms of the demons you'd been taught to slaughter. Descriptions from your seniors before you passed through your mind - 'gleaming eyes with with wrath and lust', 'gangly limbs twisted to an unholy form', 'mouths filled with rows of sharp teeth, and claws like knives'.

You faltered, confused. The words of Lute rang out in your mind.

"Of course, it's not like they can actually hurt you. You're all warriors, the toughest, just use your spears to stab the shit out of them!"

You were alone now. You couldn't hear the comforting sounds of your fellow rookies behind you anymore. They were well in front of you now, peering around with a similar confusion to yours. But to your absolute horror, they simply shrugged their shoulders and dived forward with bloodlust evident in their glowing white masks. Silver points of spears were jammed through the heads of the terrified demons below. But were they demons? They didn't look like them at all. Every single book you'd seen depicting demons drew them as eldritch monsters with too many eyes to count, tentacles and claws and fangs with nary but bloodlust and vile thoughts hidden within their slitted eyes.

But the demons in front of you looked just like people. You could see the way their faces contorted in terror. You could see them scrambling to help what you could only assume were friends and family, pulling them along and carrying the ones who couldn't run for themselves. You could only feel your heart fall as you watched one of your best friends land on top of a sinner already crushed by rubble, turquoise skin stained red. The begged and pleaded and cried, but their voice was silenced as the spearhead sunk into their skull.

You flinched. The world around you ignored you completely, and for once, you were completely happy to go unnoticed.

Shakily, you touched-down in a nearby street. It was littered with already oozing corpses, but other than that it was peacefully empty. At least here the sounds of violence and pain and terror was muffled, far away enough that you could at least try to distance yourself and get your breathing under control.

You barely reeled in a gag as the smell of blood invaded your senses.

Was this really what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? You could still see yourself in your mind's eye, a model exorcist like your lieutenant now leading her own platoon into another extermination. Maybe this would be a one off, just a shock to the system that would get your mind reworked into killing mode. But, the more you thought about it, the more your heart clenched in pain and terror that seemingly matched the suffering souls around you. You were an agent of heaven, you thought you were killing mindless monsters, not those with human souls! Sure, there were probably shitty people fucking around down here, but what about all those who had to sin in self defence?

A chorus of startled gasps startled you out of your panic ridden stupor. Your wings flared up, trying to make yourself look bigger, more threatening as you wheeled around. The spear in your hands looked more like a prop at this point, and it was clear that you had minimal idea how to use it inside a proper battle. But still, you fumbled with it and pointed it threateningly in the direction of the two demons that had appeared right behind you.

They clutched each other, stumbling backwards and further away from the danger of your angelic weapon. One of them placed an arm in front of the other, her eyes narrowing behind her red-tinted glasses as if she was both terrified by you, but was daring you to do something about it.

But still, you could see them shaking from where you stood. They both seemed rooted to the ground, the one with platinum blonde hair refused to take her eyes off of you, but the demon behind her (maybe her sister? A friend?) was looking around nervously.

You could see yourself reflected in those crimson specs, and for once it made you freeze. You'd seen yourself in uniform plenty of times before, the steel boots and guard gloves and the led, horned helmet, but it always seemed almost comforting before. When you were surrounded by your cohorts, it made you fit in. Out here, you realised, you were the monster.

The ever-present smile on your mask shrunk, falling into a grimace as your grip on your weapon tightened. Your wings drew in, you shrunk backwards, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process of trying your hardest to get away. You never wanted to scare people.

So drowned by your own confusion and fear and reckless thoughts of worry about the future that you didn't notice the confusion growing the faces of the demons in front of you turn into abject horror as a far more ominous silhouette grew behind you.

"I thought I taught you not to hesitate," Lute growled in your ear, placing her free hand on your shoulder and digging her fingers in till your were sure a bruise was marred into your skin. You didn't respond, couldn't even if you wanted to. The trembling that rattled you only grew stronger, and you fumbled as your hands cramped painfully. With a resounding clatter, your spear dropped from your grasp an on to the brazen brimstone floor.

Lute growled.

She didn't say anything, but she knew. The both of you knew by now. You couldn't kill a sinner.

Lute didn't even hesitate before shoving you to the ground. Your head collided with solid stone painfully even with your helmet on, stars shining behind your eyes as her words blurred together as she pressed her foot firmly between your shoulder blades. Your wings shivered and spread involuntarily, and you feared the moments that would come next. Lute was unpredictable, but this could only end with bloodshed.

The two girls still hadn't moved, transfixed in horror as they watched the scene in front of them play out.

Asphalt stung your hands and you tried to claw your way to freedom, fingertips digging into the scorched Earth as you started crying. Lute, however, was stronger than you. Of course she was, she'd been doing this for centuries, and you were still a fledging on her first trip out of heaven.

You never thought it would end like this.

Lute dug her fingers into your wings, tangling into your still downy feathers before she yanked with all her might. The scream she tore from your lips was hellish, agonising, yet the blended with the sounds of violence all around you. You were sure you blacked out several times throughout the process, but by the time your old lieutenant was done with you, barely anything but feathery stumps and golden blood remained of your wings.

You could only curl up, cry and watch as Lute tossed clumps of feathers aside as she stalked toward the two demons that still hadn't had the thought to run. And for the first time in your life, you felt sorry for the sinners that populated hell's ring of wrath.

She would make them suffer, that was for sure. If she was happy enough to tear of another angel's wings, you could only imagine what she would do to a sinner. You didn't want to imagine, and your mind was fuzzy enough that you thankfully didn't have to.

The sound of something sharp rang throughout the air. It made you groan in pain, the sound piercing your ears and making your brain rattle in your skull. Sharp - 'Tink tink tink tink tink.' If you could see the look of relief coming across the demons faces, a part of you might've urged Lute to run. Only, she had just torn your wings off with little qualm, and now you had no shits left to give if she lived or not.

The exorcist never got the chance to strike, her weapon torn from her hands and thrown across the street till it collided with a bloody body. Lute herself barely had time to react before she was struck over the head once, then twice in rapid succession. A whirlwind of white and angelic steel and pure fury launched herself in the path between the two demons and the exorcist. It was almost exhilarating to watch, seeing Lute strike out with her fists in a pathetic attempt of hand to hand combat against her new foe. Whoever they were, they were really fucking fast, almost too fast for you to keep up with.

The fight was over before it started. Without her weapon, Lute couldn't do much against the sinner she was pitted against, and as ruthless as she was, she knew when a battle was lost. In a flurry of black and white feathers, she fled. And then the newcomer's attention was shifted to you.

At this point, you would've welcomed death. The pain alone was making you drift slightly, and you didn't even have the energy left to groan when whoever nudged you slightly with something hard and cold.

"Mother.." The words were so soft, floating away from your ears.

"We need to leave." It was undoubtably her. That voice was the one who beat Lute into the ground.

"What about..?" That was the one who called out for mother.

"Won't she tattle?" So that had to be her sister.

Those words sent a dose of adrenaline through you. With as much strength as you could muster, you clawed yourself into an upwards position. You could feel the clotting blood running down your back, but if you were going to die, you at least wanted to do so with some dignity.

Shakily, with much more effort than was really desired, you reached up and peeled your helmet off.

It clattered noisily like glass against the floor, and suddenly the world was much brighter, much more red and the air was laced with more sulphur and death than you could imagine. But what really surprised you was the look of shock written across the sinner's face.

She was tall. Really tall. The only person who could really compete was Seraphim Sera or maybe Adam, but you really couldn't tell with how delirious you were.

"Una niña?" They all looked surprised.

The one called mother took a few steps forward, confusion and anger clearly present in her eyes. But, as she kneeled down in front of your comparatively tiny form, you realised the anger wasn't directed at you.

"Did she try to hurt you?" She turned back to face her daughters. They both shared a look, but ultimately shook their heads no. That right there, was your saving grace.

She looked back at you, hair pinned into high horns, and took your helmet in her large hands. She passed it off to one of her daughters, before gently scooping you into her hold.

You whined, writhing minutely in her hold as the searing phantom pain of your wings being torn off returned. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, and yet the demoness tutted softly, shushing you like you were a baby.

Her daughters followed without a word, and you and the family unit moved swiftly through the desolate roads. So many questions were running through your mind, and yet you couldn't find the answer to any of them, your thoughts to lost to the fog of blood loss to ever truly return.

"You better not betray me," Were the last words you heard before promptly passing out.

The plushness of a soft blanket was the first thing you felt waking up. For a moment, you felt nothing but relief realising the entire thing had been a horrid nightmare, but when you tried to rustle the numbness out of your wings, the relief was replaced with horror when you realised that your wings were just straight up missing, only two feathery stumps remaining in their place.

That made you shoot up in horror. You didn't even care about the sharp sting that ran down your spine and into your very being, you were a bit too concerned about your current predicament.

"You're awake."

That made you promptly scream before ducking under the covers like you were a nestling again. A soft sigh reached your ears, but you dared not to venture out from the warmth of the thick covers.

Not like you had a choice, though, as you were soon pried away from their safety. It was her, the demoness with the high-pinned buns. She looked down on you, red eyes glowing in the low light, and yet, you couldn't sense a smidge of hatred towards you. Only distrust and sadness laced her expression.

"How old are you?" She asked after the silence had gone on long enough.

"I'm a fledgling," Is all you said. You didn't really fancy giving too much information. Although, the look of horror the crossed her face maybe suggested that you'd already given away plenty.

"Obligan a los niños a hacer esto?" She raised a hand and carded it through her snowy tresses, locks of white hair threaded loose as she paced back and forth. You only watched her, slowly sinking back into the comfort of the warm blankets.

"You're still a child." It was a statement.

You hated being a child. You didn't want to be a child, at least, you hadn't wanted to be a child in the past. You wanted to join the ranks of the exorcists, and to do that you at least needed to be juvenile. Hell, you were lucky enough to make it into the cadets while you still had baby feathers decorating your wings. But now, the fact that yes, you were still technically a kid made your saviour look upon you with more than just disdain and hatred like any other exorcist, but rather she looked upon you with an emotion that you'd never seen before, and not one you could really name.

"You are a child, and now you have fallen," She eyed your mostly healed wing stumps, and you couldn't help but reflexively flex them anxiously. The literal weight off your back made you want to cry.

"Was this your first extermination?" She gazed upon you with a guarded look. You nodded.

"And you didn't hurt my daughters?" Another nod from you. That seemed to make her relax just a tad.

"Could you ever hurt someone?" That made you pause, the memories of the extermination rushing back to you full force. Tears grew at the corners of your eyes, and still, you answered with a simple 'no'.

She exhaled a sigh of relief before closing the distance and kneeling down to your eye level.

"Carmilla Carmine." She reached a hand out toward you. So that was her name.

You clutched your hands close to your chest, fearing her touch, but gave her your name anyway.

"What are you gonna do with me?" You asked, voice cracking. Her gaze softened, finally letting her guard slip for just a moment.

"Well, you weren't going to make it out there by yourself. You'll be staying with me," The words took a moment to sink into your mind. Well, at least it was better than death.

Gently, like she was working with a scared animal, Carmilla coaxed you out from the comfort of the bed, slowly ushering you to her side. With your wings missing and their remains bandaged, head bare and missing your exorcist helmet, it felt like the safest place in the world.

"Welcome to Hell."

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel carmilla #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x female reader #platonic

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reverseexorcist · 9 months ago

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❥ 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❥

Man, I support women's rights and all, but women's wrongs is where it's at. Like, I get she's meant to be awful and all, but what if I was her favourite?

➲ Lute + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,424 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, spoilers for episode 8, mentions and brief depictions of gore, mostly fluff though, my god I wanna write so much more of Lute but my ideas only get so far

➨ Okay, so first off, this woman is probably stoic as fuck - At least in the beginning of the relationship. Stiff and gruff because to her she's a warrior first and herself second. That's what she's had to be for the longest time ever, and it's gonna take a while for you to coax her out of her battle-hardened shell

➨ The kind've touch starved person that would rather die painfully than ever let someone touch her kind've vibe. Even when you're the exception, it's probably just better to ask before initiating anything just so you don't get socked in the face

➨ (She'll apologise, but probably wouldn't be able to stop because that's just her instinct)

➨ When she warms up to it though, oh boy

➨ "What is this?"

➨ "A hug?"

➨ "Disgusting… Do it again."

➨ (Gladly. Her wings are so soft and fluffy and perfect for hugging)

➨ Her wings will flutter softly, puffing up and getting extra fluffy at your touch as she practically melts into you. She'll deny it every single time, but you know the truth, especially when you hear her walk through the door after a long day at work only to be met with the audible 'poof' from the exorcist as her wings fluff up

➨ Speaking of, Lute takes pride in her wings. Very careful with them outside of battle and all, meticulously cleans and preens them at the beginning and end of every day and is a chronic stomach sleeper because of this. Probably has some expensive feather shampoo or cleaner or whatever that makes them smell like cedar. Whenever she ends up moulting, the floor of your apartment will be covered in black and white feathers

➨ (Don't tell her, but you've kept some of them)

➨ AND THE MUSCLES!

➨ Oh buddy boy does this woman have muscles

➨ Like, yeah, she's the lieutenant of the exorcist army of course she's gonna be buff, but it doesn't mean it's any less hot

➨ (If you're lucky she might let you feel 'em)

➨ Lute is secretly so proud whenever you gawk over her. Will flare her wings and pose for you, but only you and only ever in private. There's no way in heaven or hell that Lute wants Adam on her case about her peacocking around her girlfriend

➨ (You think she's the type to ask you to sit on her back while she's doing push-ups? I do)

➨ She tries her damned hardest to keep you away from Adam. The dude is cool, but she's already worn thin keeping up with his energy and antics. Lute's aware of his antics, especially around women and she'd rather not make you go through that. You are hers, after all. She may be Adam's right hand man (woman), but you're her life partner first and foremost

➨ Can't talk about Lute without mentioning that the WOMAN HAS AN UNDERCUT? Sorry, but women with undercuts are my weakness

➨ Just imagining hugging her, wrapping your arms snuggly around her shoulders as she swaddles you in her broad wings, only to reach up and fluff the fuzz of her undercut

➨ I mean, her hair is probably just as soft as her wings. At least with her hair she'd probably let you comb it or something. Wing touching is something very intimate in heaven, so that probably won't happen for a while

➨ When it does happen however ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

➨ Nah, just kidding. Wings are sensitive, but, y'know, you probably already know this because everyone in heaven has wings. It'll probably just be you preening each other as you both devolve into flustered puddles

➨ Love language is probably something alone the lines of acts of service (giving and receiving) or words of affirmation (receiving).

➨ Likes hugs and kisses are cool and all and she'll probably never say no (unless it's in public), but getting told by you that you find her laugh adorable or that her wings look awesome or something like that (or even something even sappier), my god her brain with blue screen of death before you snap her out of it

➨ It honestly makes her so happy. I mean, no one else really compliments her like that. Sure, she and Adam hype each other up, and her subordinates respect her. But Adam's humour is far from clean and she gets the feeling the other exorcists are kind've scared of her

➨ After a few years and just settling into the relationship, it gets to a point where Lute realises she probably wants to spend the rest of her life (unlife? Afterlife? Does it count if she never died?) with you

➨ If you're just a regular citizen of heaven (i.e. someone Lute can't tell about the exterminations), she's probably more likely to baby you about literally everything. Like, she's extremely protective, but not necessarily jealous, but you're just so fluffy and soft and she just has the innate urge to protect you

➨ There's a part of her that just so damn tempted to tell you for the sole fact that it's another opportunity to flaunt how great she is. The bigger, more logical part of her knows that you're more likely to be absolutely horrified and would most likely want to break up in that very moment

➨ Which is the exact opposite of what she wants

➨ On the other hand, if you're a fellow exorcist like herself, chances are there will be some favouritism in the ranks

➨ Kind've loves you for it, because at least this way she knows you can take care of yourself without her having to mother you. And, while some part of her certainly does like the idea of having a partner that sort've contrasts her in an opposites attract kind've way, she also really likes the idea of a girlfriend that she can spar with

➨ (Insert cliché moment during a fight where one person lands on top of the other and they both blush)

➨ Exorcist or not, though, she still has her helmet just hanging around the apartment. If you're an exorcist too, sometimes the two of you will just sort've sit around and polish them whilst talking, making sure they shine for the next time you descend to hell.

➨ If you're not, well, Lute struggles to come up with an excuse for the first time you see it, eventually labelling it as an odd gift from Adam. It doesn't come up in conversation again till she comes home late from the office (curse the seraphims and Adam alike for giving her so much paperwork) only to find you curled up in your shared bed, clutching her helmet to your chest

➨ (It couldn't of been comfortable, but Lute's cold heart melted ever so slightly at the sight)

(Spoilers for the finale)

➨ My god, if you weren't an exorcist at the end of season 1 and you saw Lute come back in the state she did - Immediate heart attack

➨ At first you were confused, because, well, she told you she'd be gone for the entire day and wouldn't be back until midnight. And yet, when the commotion outside started only to be followed by horrified gasps, you couldn't help but get anxious

➨ Winding through the panicked streets, you finally managed to make it to the front, only to see Lute staggering toward the high seraphim. Her gaze glossed over you, eyes narrowed into slits that burned with raging fire

➨ Not only was she covered in crimson, but her clothes were also stained with the brilliant gold of her own blood. If that didn't freak you out, you couldn't help but let a strangled scream tear from your throat at the sight of her missing arm

➨ That seemed to snap her out of it. She glanced past the extremely tall form of Sera and gave you a mixed look, one filled with regret and despair, rage and fatigue, and the slightest hint of warmth as your very presence calmed her. Too much shit had happened in the past hour or so for her

➨ However, her bedraggled form covered in her own blood and the blood of sinners alike was bound to spark more questions from your anxious mind, and Lute had the idea that if you reacted like this about her returning early from an extermination, you probably weren't going to be so receptive to what her job actually was…

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lute #wlw #lute x female reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin lute

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reverseexorcist · 9 months ago

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♡ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡

You couldn't not give me Carmilla fucking Carmine and expect me not to go feral over her-

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,479 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, these are kind've all over the place, Carmilla might be a tad OOC since this is my first time writing her

➲ There are so many different ways this relationship could possibly start. The mind boggles trying to think of all of them. Just think of all the potential shenanigans that could occur and have fun with that

➲ But lemme just say before anything - This woman is fiercely protective over you. Not in the cutesy, clingy kind've obsessive way, but the silently scary scary-dog privilege kind've partner. The epitome of 'excuse me sir, they asked for no pickles', and, because I love this trope, you are the only person (besides her daughters) that she will ever fully be soft for.

➲ Insert 🥺 right here

➲ Just, get you a woman who looks at you the way Carmilla looks at her wife. That's all I can say

➲ The soft moments in the morning when you can just lay in bed and watch her get ready. Pulling her hair up into her signature, gravity defying buns(?) and delicately slip on and twine her angelic steel shoes. The minutes of her fingers expertly working away in a comfortable silence as you just lay under the comfort of your warm blankets? Those are the moments right there 👌

➲ Probably not one for physical affection, at least not in public. Definitely not in public. Her reputation alone would probably put you in danger, which is, y'know, not good, so no hand-holding in public

➲ (Honestly, one part of her probably prefers not to be seen with you in public for that exact reason. The other part wants to keep you in her line of sight at all times because at least then she can personally keep you safe)

➲ All of that being said, can't deny she'd probably give top tier hugs. Proper bear hugs because this woman is tall and strong and would undeniably make you feel safe whenever you're in her arms. Depending on how tall or short you are, she could also probably pick you up if you really wanted 👉👈

➲ (She could 100% pick you up, and probably with one hand as well)

➲ Gives the most tender of little kisses. Small pecks on the cheeks and forehead whenever she's tired from work, her larger fingers gently grazing the sides of your head as her fluffy hair tickles your face

➲ And the adorable little pet names she whispers to you! Maybe you're just passing by each other in an almost empty street or just relaxing at home together, but she'll always try and take the chance to whisper something like 'mi Vida', 'mi Corazón' or 'mi Reina' just loud enough for the two of you to hear

➲ Let's be real, this woman is really goddamn tall, so you're probably shorter than her and she absolutely loves it and would absolutely tell this to your face just to fluster you. What she loves even more is the way you'd have to reach up on your tippy toes with her leaning down to meet you halfway just to have you playfully kiss her on the tip of her nose or her chin

➲ Maybe, very rarely, if she's feeling extra sentimental, she'd love it if you sat on her lap while she works in her home office, just so she can have your comfort and warmth nearby. More often than not this scenario would end up with you falling asleep in her lap and her carrying you back to bed with the smallest of smiles on her face

➲ If she could really help it, she'd prefer to keep you as far away from her work as possible. As much as she would love to have you in the office, maybe helping her with paperwork or something similar so she could have you at within her reach at all times of the day, arms dealing is a dangerous job. At least her daughter's have each other's backs' when they're out doing business, but you'd probably have to make it on your own or with one of her other employees and that's a big no no in her eyes

➲ Also, speaking of her daughters, your relationship with them would vary wildly depending on when you met them

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when Clara and Odette were rather young, they'd probably cling on to you like a second mother figure. In some cases, they might've even preferred you over Carmilla for the sole fact that their toddler puppy eyes work on you better than their biological mother

➲ Your dynamic would probably just be the three of you racing to see who could give Carmilla a hug first after she gets home from work

➲ (Though, this only works if Carmilla is hell-born seeing as sinner's can't have children)

➲ If you started dating Carmilla when they were older though, there might be a bit of a tense air when you first meet. Carmilla's protectiveness isn't just one way - Her daughters absolutely adore her, and although they definitely couldn't protect her physically, they'd do their damn best to protect her emotionally

➲ They'd warm up to you after some time though, seeing you do truly love their mother with your whole heart. You'd never be a parent to them, barely even a step-parent, but they'd respect you and care for you like family nonetheless because you make their mother happy

➲ Either way, her heart melts seeing the three of you getting alone, and she 100% has a family picture she keeps on her desk for her eyes only

➲ Sometimes she just waits until you fall asleep so she can cradle your head in her heads oh so carefully. She just sort've stares at you, her eyes glowing in the dark with her wild mane of hair spilling out behind her, and she just traces all the intricate details of your face with her eyes

➲ And then she just sort've hugs you closer to her, tugging the blankets a little tighter around the two of you as she presses the littlest of kisses to your forehead before relaxing into the pillows

➲ But just imagine Carmilla with a wife who died so much later after her. Just this tall, scary and proper woman that strikes fear into the hearts of millions with her little gremlin wife who keep talking about shit like reddit that the other sinners just don't understand (not even Carmilla herself, but she finds your antics somewhat entertaining, at least when she doesn't have to act as your self preservation instincts and keep you safe)

➲ Extermination is your least favourite day for multiple reasons

➲ The first being, well, the exorcists descending form heaven to brutally murder sinners left and right, but also because Carmilla changes around this time

➲ It's understandable, especially with what happened in one of the previous exterminations when she and her daughters got caught, but it still scares you to see you usually cool, calm and loving wife turn into a robot who's only goal is to get you and her daughters to a safehouse to wait out the terror outside

➲ Doesn't mean you're not grateful, though. You can look past all of that because you know she's just doing it to keep you safe, and in the end you'd rather be safe and living with your family rather than dead on the end of an exorcist's spear

➲ You probably also have a good relationship with the other overlords, despite never having gone to a meeting

➲ (It's because of this you've never met Velvette or the other Vee's, and if Carmilla has a say, you never will)

➲ Rosie, being the social butterfly she is, loves to talk gossip with you every chance she gets. Zestial likes to join in on your little sessions, not saying anything but bringing tea for everyone to drink and enjoy. Clara also likes to join in sometimes, but her sister would much rather sit with her mother and just watch the chaos unfold in front of them

➲ Almost certainly has caught you trying on her shoes when she's not looking. A part of her is annoyed because she'd rather not have you involved in anything to do with her work, but the innocent look you give her makes her rethink her annoyance in the moment

➲ She'd later found out Clara helped you because you also wanted to try and walk around on pointe like the rest of the family. No idea why you skipped straight to trying the angelic weapon shoes, but Carmilla does offer to help you later

➲ Overall, great wife and I'd give her a 9/10. One point deducted probably because she'd be a tad too overprotective, but everything else about her is great; From her bear hugs to those little moments the two of you share

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel headcanons #wlw #hazbin hotel x you #carmilla carmine x fem reader

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