#angel with no name

[alphaori]

When they ask if they called upon the angel of the Lord, I do not clarify.

They are not wrong, and yet, I am a liar, such is the complicated nature of earth. I look upon them, trembling, and conceal, until they think I have a face like theirs. I wonder what they see. I feel blind. They claim to hear the voice from above, and it has been so long I can not tell if it is true. The man clutches a book, hand-written notes spilling from it, and speaks a crude imitation of a tongue I once knew. I would have understood regardless. They want a miracle, to convince a man. I can do miracles, but I can not move hearts. They accept. 

Humans say "in a blink of an eye" to mean something quick. I deliberate over the phrase. Time is something that binds me now, though still not as tightly as them. In the time it took a human to blink, eons could have collapsed before me, or every fiber of the universe could have stood still. Now I am a slave to time, and time is the master of me. It has been six thousand years. In a blink of an eye, I am called upon once more. 

The woman from before is there, and a different man is with her. When she sees me, she falls to her knees, but he remains standing, though I know he fears. She begs, in crude sentences of the old tongue, for a holy miracle. I do not tell that the only power I command now is of fire and brimstone. It is miraculous, in a sense. After all, is the sun not the brightest of the Lord’s creations, and yet, is it not made of only flame eternal. I try the best I can to imitate the warm glow of the sun for them, a simple sign of grace. They both scream. 

Apparently, they were satisfied. The man has given them money to build the holy land. I say nothing. They walk a desecrated path, but who am I to guide them to holiness? Still, they pray and live in His name, though no one watches over them. So, I do. Two wrongs do not make a right, but there is no harm. At least, I reason so. 

Humans fascinate me. To think how much they changed in so little time. This curiocity of mine has always been my dishonor, and yet, I hold it close. I watch them come to this land, and I see through time all the beasts and men that walked and tended the earth, and I see the blood and iron and lead beneath the prairie. I watch them accept new believers. I watch them build a house. Eventually, they have kids, and I watch them too. I was never a guardian, but surely this is better than nothing. I watch them grow, and I watch them change, and I watch them weep. The sun goes up and down, as do the workers in the field, as does the knife of a butcher, as does the hand of the father. 

One of the children prays, calling for me. The man and woman rarely call for me now, and when they do they are satisfied when I give them fire. But the child asks for something else. She wishes for the world to not end. Nothing is infinite, of course, but I sense that she means something else. She says the world will end in sixteen days, or so the family believes. I can not know if that is true. Could they? I light a candle on her bedside table, the only reassurance I can give the poor thing. Eventually, she sleeps. 

I look for the signs, daring not to ask. I can see no mirth, no love, no divinity now, but I can still see the world, misery of it vast like ocean after the storm, and I do not see the end. It can not be. When I return, I see people praying, begging for forgiveness as poison dries on their lips. There is a space in the line of them. In the house, the man and woman wrestle their own child, and while I can not know, I believe there is little divine of their madness. I reach into the world with all my might and tell them to stop. The child keeps sobbing. The man and woman only scowl. 

“▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒, stay out of it!” - the woman says.

“▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒, I command you to step down, now!” - the man says, my name frivolous in their mouths.

At another time, in another life, I would have no choice but to obey. But one good thing about falling is that I am not bound by that name any longer. I wish I could fill the house with fire, burn it until ashes fly back to heaven, but I do not. 

The man pulls from behind his back a long thing of steel, a weapon, and fires at me, and sees its power useless against me. I am not a being like them, at least, not yet.

I say, truly say, in my true voice, a single word in their tongue. Perhaps it sounds as mangled to them. I do not care. I gather the little true strength I have to say: “Leave”.

Glass shatters in the house, and birds fall silent. 

I can not move hearts. 

I can not pray. 

I almost do. 

They relent. 

I watch them stumble out, and into their metal carriage, and away, until I can not see like this anymore. Until my fire burns out, and I have eyes like them, and a body like them, and I bleed like them from the shattered glass. Until the child calms, enough to crawl out and see me. 

“I am sorry”, I say. I can still speak in her mind. That is good. Less frightening.

“It’s ok.”

We sit in silence some more. Eventually, she starts asking. 

“Are they gone?” “Yes.”

“Forever?”

“I do not know.”

“What… what about the others?”

I say nothing, and there is silence again.

“What do we do now?”

I deliberate. 

“We should leave. Unless you wish to remain?”

She shakes her head. 

I feel something. In my flesh, newly forged in flames, a sensation stirs. Perhaps it is sin. Perhaps it is joy. I know even less now, and yet, I do not miss it. 

“▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒?”

“You probably should not use that name for me.”

“Before we go, you should probably dress up.”

Something twitches in my chest. Muscles tighten, choking my breath. For a moment, I worry that I made a mistake. In the next, I let out a laugh. My lungs fill with air and then release it. My heart pumps blood through countless blood vessels. I thought about this for so long. I was not fully prepared. Still, it is a good day. I observe the long streaks of sunlight falling on a burnt out candle, and the dust dancing in the air. It is warm and peaceful suddenly, like another place I remember, but I do not dwell on the memory and get up instead. 

[deancasforcutie]

"your angel" with such little context is another way of saying "your sweetheart" romantically and well. they're not wrong

[bigboobyhalo]

the anger inside of me

[hg-aneh]

Remembered I never posted this here

[soggystyrofoam]

worlds funniest polycule

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

hey guys can you watch over these critters for me thanks

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

“why sister daniel and blond phil? this is just phil! this is phil all the time! this is not dan before the clock strikes 12, this is just phil now!” no no i can accept that phil is blond now like i will concede that this:

is phil. but this:

is NOT phil. this is a butch lesbian with a motorcycle who is dating sister daniel. nothing you say will convince me of anything else ok. that’s not phil that’s the head of DOB leading the march before going to pick up her girlfriend from the convent for hot lesbian sex. they have nothing to do with dan and phil. separate entities. stop lesbian erasure 😤

[polubrony]

I like you *makes your Chaggie into a Chaggily*

I love these three together almost as much as the og pair, so here are some sketches of it

I mean, Charlie having a tendency to steal best angels from heaven (because heaven sucks *ehem*) seems like something she would do

And I just love Emily, sooo

Yeah

+ Bonus for second pic

[reineydraws]

i dont have a caption for you lol i'll let shanks's heart eyes speak for themselves 🫶

(source)

[sango-blep]

The Isobel / Aylin epilogue in my heart

[beastlyidiocy]

my sweet old man who is genuinely too kind for the world he lives in :(

[notherpuppet]

Some irl moments repped by the hazbin cast

[ghoulsteak]

pigeon-angel for @foxgirlchorix

[kookiyu]

fursona commission from @decafbat , im so so happy with it. thank you again!!!

[valtsv]

the metatron is one of my favorite angels simply because the five year old in me is delighted by the fact that there's an actual real angel canonical to several religious texts with a name that makes it sound like a giant evil robot

[luxvinova]

"You look lonely, I can fix that."