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seramilla · 2 months ago

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Fluffy/angsty Chaggily idea for the Emily in Hell AU: Emily mostly adjusting well to her transformation but still feeling a little self-conscious about it sometimes, but Charlie and Vaggie are good girlfriends about it.

A little twist on this, because there wasn't quite enough angst. For @tanema123 and @xellas-the-wanderer, and for dealing with the crisis mode I've been in for months.

Before Sera fell, Emily spent plenty of time feeling sorry for herself.

She had every right to. Forced bodily changes and broken bones aside, Emily had been literally thrust out of the only home she'd ever known. That sense of security and safety in Heaven, by Sera's side, stolen from her in the time it takes to inhale a breath. It had been more than the young angel could handle.

Everything she'd ever thought to be true about Heaven -- about goodness, and holiness, and glory, and eternal love -- had been snuffed out forever by a single brash decision from the elders.

She'd spent days in Charlie and Vaggie's bedroom at the hotel, bones and body healing and getting used to her new form. (Or had it been weeks? She couldn't recall at this point).

The once happy, boisterous Seraphim of Joy, reduced to a puddle of blankets, random animal limbs, and wings curled up on the oversized mattress in the fetal position. Charlie wanted to stay with her, and comfort her, but she and Vaggie had official hotel business to run. Their patrons needed them. Life didn't pause for anyone, and that went doubly for the princess of Hell.

Keekee stayed at Emily's side at all times, providing her some companionship and comfort when her girlfriends couldn't. Charlie and Vaggie checked in on her often (mostly Vaggie), every hour on the hour, bringing her food and water, just making sure she was safe and had her basic needs met.They did their best to make her feel cared for. So that she didn't…wouldn't try to do anything stupid.

Emily wouldn't. She couldn't. She loved them too much. Even if she didn't love herself anymore. She ate, and drank, and bathed, and tried to maintain appearance as some semblance of a person. For them. Even if she didn't feel like one.

But often, she succumbed to the grief, and there was nothing more to be done than to hide from the world.

One afternoon, Vaggie slips into her and Charlie's bedroom, silently and gracefully, a tray of sandwiches and water balanced precariously in one hand as she opens the door. The room is dark, curtains drawn tight, and only a small sliver of red, hellish sky seeps in past the heavy fabric. That telltale lump of blankets on the bed known as Emily barely stirs.

"Hey, Em," Vaggie says barely above a whisper. "You missed breakfast today. Are you hungry? I brought you a snack."

The only response from the little Seraphim is a slight shifting of fabric, a back-and-forth movement of the material that looks like Emily is shaking her head "no". Her blueish-silver lion's tale peaks out from under the covers, the tufts of fur at the end all fluffed up. Her tail flipflops across the bed animatedly, like an annoyed cat's. Vaggie does her absolute darnedest not to make any sound in response at all.

It's adorable. But Emily isn't ready to hear that yet.

"C'mon, Em," Vaggie says, putting the tray on the bedside table, and sitting on the side of the mattress next to her.

Vaggie touches Emily's tail lightly, so gently, barely playing with it between her fingers. It flits in her hand with a life of its own, and Vaggie strokes it affectionately. Vaggie is the only one who's been brave enough to touch Emily casually since she fell. She's the only one Emily will allow touching her right now.

Other than carrying Emily back to the hotel that first day, Charlie has barely been able to look at her, let alone touch Emily's new form. But that bond Emily and Vaggie had formed in Heaven for centuries is still there, and she doesn't shy away from touching Emily to comfort her, or help her bathe, or cuddle her at night, or perform any number of basic self-care tasks. It doesn't bother Vaggie. It doesn't gross her out. Emily can barely look at herself, so she lets Vaggie do most of the care-taking.

"C'mon, sweetie," Vaggie repeats, pulling up the edge of the blanket enough to get a view of Emily's butt. She's wearing one of Vaggie's T-shirts and a pair of Charlie's shorts, with duckies on them. They'd cut out a hole for Emily's new tail to fit through, so she's more comfortable.

"I don't want to," Emily pouts, her little hoofed feet pushing herself deeper underneath the covers. Vaggie can see a pair of dark, ocean-deep eyes staring back at her from the shadowy depths of the blankets. They blink at her slowly, like a frog. Vaggie thinks they are so pretty, in an ethereal, otherworldly way.

"Why not?" Vaggie asks.

"I just…I'm not hungry!"

Emily's stomach growls, loudly, like a lion in its den.

"That's a lie," Vaggie chuckles.

"Charlie hasn't been to see me today!"

That statement from Emily makes everything go quiet again. The fact that Charlie hasn't visited yet surprises even Vaggie. Normally, she and Charlie take turns; if one of them is more preoccupied, the other will pick up the slack. Charlie has been busy with her dad all morning, fussing and mussing about the hotel, but certainly, Vaggie thinks, she should have visited Emily at least once by now.

"She's been working this morning. I'm sure she'll come see you as soon as she's done." Vaggie's voice sounds uncertain and unconvincing, even to herself.

"No, she won't!" Emily stutters. Her voice is quaking and muffled now; she's obviously crying, face buried in her pillow, soaking the fabric with tears. "She hates me! Every time she comes, she can barely even look at me!"

"Sweetie, she doesn't hate you," Vaggie says, leaning over Emily to stroke her head (or what she thinks is her head) softly through several layers of blankets. She can feel the hard bump of one of Emily's horns, so the Seraphim's head is in the general vicinity of where her hand is, at any rate. "Charlie just feels guilty about everything. And when she feels guilty, she throws herself into her work. She doesn't mean anything by it. I promise."

"Then why doesn't she touch me, or kiss me, or...something?! All she does is apologize, and cry, and...and pity me! It makes me feel horrible! For causing you all so much pain! I wish I wasn't here anymore! I wish the elders had killed me instead of doing this! I'm a monster!"

Suddenly, there is a sharp sob from the doorway, and a crash of metal and ceramic clattering to the floor. Vaggie jerks her head around, and sees Charlie standing there, a tray of her own that she'd previously been carrying now in a heap upon the floor. The princess ignores the tea soaking into the floor, and the shattered teacups and pitcher. Her eyes are filled with tears, one hand over her mouth in shock, failing to hide a pained, exasperated expression on her face.

"Emily..." Charlie says. She's obviously overheard at least part of their conversation. Most certainly that last part, with the way she looks like she might collapse onto the floor, herself. The princess looks broken. Hurt, and miserable, barely holding it together. "Is...is that...what you really think of me? You think I hate you?"

Realizing Charlie's in the room, Emily scrambles under the sheets, desperately trying to free herself from the tangle of fabric trapping her limbs. Her head finally pops out of the blankets, hair askew and round ears twitching in irritation. She looks over at Charlie in disbelief, the princess' knees looking like they are about to buckle beneath her.

"Charlie! Wait! No, that's not--! I didn't mean that--!"

Emily barely has a chance to respond. Charlie sidesteps the mess she's made and is suddenly rushing to her beside, practically crawling on top of Emily in her desperation to get to her girlfriend. Emily's legs are still tangled in blankets, but Charlie grabs her around the neck, stopping the angel before she can even attempt an escape.

Not that Emily wants to go anywhere. Not now that Charlie is here, holding her fast to her chest, and sobbing into the fallen angel's hair as she frantically tries to make her stay in her arms...leaving this bed is suddenly the last thing on her mind.

"I'm sorry!" Charlie weeps, tears soaking into Emily's hair; her hot breath makes Emily's sensitive ears ache. She kisses Emily's moist cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Emily! I had no idea I was making you feel that way! Of course, I don't hate you! I love you! More than anything! I just wanted to give you your space, and I didn't know what to say, and I got carried away with work. I'm such an idiot. Please, don't leave!"

Charlie's grip is harsh against Emily's skin. Ever since her transformation, Emily's senses are heightened, and every little stimuli feels like so much. Everything is on overdrive all the time, including the way Charlie's claws dig into her back and shoulders, where her wings normally appear. Charlie's pleas and sobs are overwhelming, but Emily sits there, and she takes it. Because for the first time in days, Emily can feel the full force of Charlie's love all around her. She never wants to let it go.

"I'm sorry, too!" Emily cries out. She doesn't know why she's apologizing, but she can't seem to hold her emotions in anymore. She squeezes Charlie around the waist, and buries her face in the princess' suit jacket, being mindful of her horns and trying not to poke her girlfriend with them.

Emily succumbs to the emotional weight of it all. Her wings pop out, appearing in a flash of light, and flecks of gold from the transformation sparkle all around them. Blueish-silver and gold feathers wrap protectively around herself and Charlie, keeping the other woman close to her, afraid to ever let go of her again.

Charlie's hand strokes the feathers within reach, carefully and tenderly, and Emily basks at the light touch. Emily brings Charlie's other hand to rub against her cheek, soaking Charlie's palm with fresh tears. Charlie also takes the chance to touch one of Emily's small horns, wrapping her hand around it, and admiring it. It's smooth, like ivory under her fingers. It feels good to have it touched.

This is the first time Charlie's laid comforting hands on her in days, and she's doing it while Emily looks like this. The sheer force of that fact makes Emily want to cry all over again.

"Please don't apologize to me," Charlie sobs. "You needed me, and I closed myself off inside my own head. I love you, no matter what you look like. You'll always be beautiful to me, Emily! Please don't forget that."

"Okay. Okay! I won't."

Emily won't. Not anymore.

Being mindful of her wings, Emily rolls onto her side, pulling Charlie down to lie next to her. She's missed this. Missed her princess. Missed the type of attention that only Charlie can give. She kisses Charlie passionately, and Charlie kisses her back, and both women get lost in the moment. In themselves. Vaggie looks on affectionately.

Vaggie carefully scootches over to sit behind Charlie on the bed, laying her hand comfortingly on Charlie's head, stroking her blonde hair while the taller woman makes these adorable half-whimper/half-crying sounds into Emily's lips. Emily's still pretty emotional, too.

Vaggie chuckles. "You knuckleheads are so hopeless, you know that?"

Leave it to her girlfriends to cry while they're kissing each other, Vaggie thinks. They choose to ignore Vaggie's teasing, and go back to sucking one another's faces. Vaggie smiles, and leans down to kiss each of their exposed cheeks, in turn.

"Love you guys, too."

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #emily hazbin hotel #vaggie #chaggily #charlie's angels #ask #anon #keekee hazbin hotel #emily stays in hell au

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crackrodent · 3 months ago

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Black Cat's Problems

My kitten had been missing for hours. The day after the chaos she usually stayed glued to me but now she is missing. I had checked if Razzle or Dazzle had seen her and they hadn’t. I checked the entire decrepit hotel. The dust and cobwebs on almost every surface sat undisturbed. The hotel was dying for some tender love and care. As was my sweet kitten.

Ever since Mom left that kitten has been my sole source of comfort at night. Forehead kisses as I drift off. The warmth keeps me comfortable all night. Then the reason I get out of bed at all the next morning. She was my kitten no matter how old she got.

She was never a very good cat though. As much as it pained me I often had to try and teach her how to do most cat stuff. She never wanted to play much. She would if I brought her the stuffed mice or plastic balls with the little bells inside but she never sought them out on her own. Sometimes I would set her up with some toys to keep her busy and it would work just until I took my eyes off her. She just mostly laid around on books or the floor or couches. Weird little thing.

She had gone out again. I was almost sure of it. I had told her not to but she seldom listened to me. She had a mind of her own. Dad always warned me. Especially in her younger years when she was still learning how rough was too rough. Kittens ideally do best in pairs but it wasn’t an option I suppose.

I think she may have been a bit like Dad. She did used to always want to play with the ducks in his office. Not great toys for kittens and Dad was occasionally disappointed to find teeth marks on his ducklings.

Mom, well she would listen to her sing for hours. They would go back and forth until my kitten’s voice would be so sore she could barely squeak. I miss those days often. Not the squeaking. Mom’s singing.

I began pacing the halls in case maybe she wasn’t gone and was only hiding. The examinations were hard on her each year. The screams and gunfire from sinners trying to buy time infiltrated her ears like a New Year party gone wrong. She would usually crawl under the blankets and shake until Mom, Dad or I comforted her. Told her it was all right. It was just the sinners they were after. We were safe.

My poor Kitten had been extra frazzled the first year without Dad. Now with Mom missing too, I guess I couldn’t keep her feeling safe enough. What if she ran away?

The pacing was doing no good. I started checking the rooms. One year she hid under the bed for hours just shaking. Maybe if I check all the rooms that had beds she’s under one!

The usual room we slept in was clear. The bed was made so I know she’s not hiding under the covers either. The other rooms were dusty and undisturbed.

I had already checked the kitchen but I was desperate. The dishes were still in the sink and the bowl of water was still half full.

I ran back to the living room and asked Razzle and Dazzle if they had seen her yet and they ignored me again. I started up my pacing again in the hallway. It was all I could do. It didn’t help but it passed the time.

Then I heard the sound of the door open. I ran to the front door and saw my kitten was home!! Oh, my good little kitty was the best cat! She was scared of the exorcists? She just must have craved their wings so much it overpowered the fear! I mean why else would she be dragging a maimed angel to the living room?

My baby kitty did so well! My heart swelled with pride as I watched her grab the popcorn bowl filled with water and started cleaning off her catch. The broken creature flinched as my kitten wiped the cuts. I jumped up and attempted to help her but after just a couple of licks, food aggression must have kicked in and I was removed from the couch. She had grown up so beautifully. The past 200 years at her side I could never trade for anything.

She faced the monsters she hid from every year like she didn’t even recognize them. Maybe Mom and Dad being gone truly is what my Charlotte needed. With either of them here they surely would stop her from bringing a half-dead catch inside. They sure stopped me whenever I tried.

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