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quillandink333 · 1 month

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The Other’s Choice • Pt. 1

Credit to @winterxisxcomingx for the beautiful banner ♡︎

SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Faced with the harsh reality of Heaven’s steadfast opposition, the angel of joy is forced to make a drastic decision with gruesome consequences, but luckily she isn’t alone for long.

WARNINGS: Abrahamic imagery (obviously), pseudocest, assault, extreme heights, hunger

Part I • Part II • Part III

An eternity seemed to have passed since Emily had taken the irreversible dive from Heaven and begun her journey through Purgatory before finally manifesting in Hell’s scarlet sky. And yet there was such a long distance left between her and the ground that she still couldn’t make out a single thing happening down below. Her stomach was achingly empty—how many days had it been? It was impossible to know without the light of the sun to let her.

Her windswept hair obscuring her vision as she fell, she reflected on the moments leading up to this. They’d done it! Now even Sera couldn’t deny the reality proven by the unrelenting efforts of the Hazbin Hotel. Yet to Emily’s fury, the old hag was still too stubborn to allow word of it to get out even among the archangels.

The newly redeemed sinner, whose name she’d learnt was Sir Pentious, had appeared suddenly in Chastity Palace, somehow becoming the first human soul in history to bypass Saint Peter and the pearly gates. While the senior seraph didn’t take well to his arrival, the younger was over the moon, wasting no time befriending him and giving him the grand tour of his new, and rightful, home above the clouds. The conversations she’d shared with him were not only groundbreaking but deeply upsetting. The upsetting part, however, wasn’t the story of his noble sacrifice nor was it Adam’s brutal and shameless acts of fascism, but the fact that she couldn’t share any of it with the rest of Heaven.

Faced with this, she’d done the only other thing she could have. If there was no way for her to serve the sinners’ worthy cause in Heaven, she would simply have to leave. And so she would, but first, she’d penned a note to her elder.

Word Count: 0.8k

“I hereby vow never to return until the right changes have been made. This is not my choice, it is my duty. Thank you for protecting me, Sera. Goodbye.”

She’d never been so cold and blunt to anyone in all her aeons of life; it had destroyed her to write it, but soon regret would serve no purpose to her anymore. With a deep breath, she steadied herself and stepped with resolve toward the edge of the rainbow bridge. She closed her eyes.

Out of nowhere, all the world came to a screeching halt, the jarring loss of momentum causing her heart to nearly leap out her throat.

“I got ya.’”

A few seconds earlier, Lucifer had looked up through the glass walls of his new suite at the hotel just in time to see what could only be likened to a falling star.

Without thinking, he’d bolted into action, racing to catch the little one right as she’d started to descend past the city skyline. She could’ve been shish-kebabbed by the spire of a skyscraper if he’d taken any longer to spot her.

His heart was pounding after his miles-long sprint through the air. “You alright?”

Emily ogled up at her saviour with wide eyes, failing to realise he’d asked her a question for a good several seconds. “Y-Yes. Uh…thank you.” He didn’t look much like a demon, dressed in white from top to bottom with strawberry blond hair and a warm red gaze. If she didn’t know better, she would think this gleaming, six-winged stranger was a seraph like herself.

“You’ve fallen,” he inferred with frantic eyes and a heavy heart. “What happened?”

But her attention was already fixated elsewhere. As the angel of joy, she possessed a divine gift that let her feel the emotions of others as if they were her own. Down below, there were people on the streets, and every last one of them was miserable. It was so much worse than she could’ve imagined. There truly wasn’t an ounce of joy to be found here. She watched as one of the wretched souls was violently defiled by another before her eyes, their cries of terror ringing in her ears clear as day. The latter’s hand clenched around the former’s neck, and suddenly she couldn’t get a breath in, a scream trapped in her throat as she could do nothing but watch. She felt sick.

Lucifer sensed her rising panic and held her closer. “Hey, look at me, you’re okay,” he urged, cradling the poor, lost princess in one arm while cupping her colourless face in his free hand. She met his gaze, her own filled with the all-consuming fear she’d had the privilege of never knowing until now. She looked like a deer in the headlights, her expression like an arrow straight to his once broken and unfeeling heart. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside where it’s safe.”

Her frail arms clung to him with a vicelike grip as she nodded and tearfully hid her face in his shoulder. At once, he set his sights on Pride Castle and took off soaring.

#my writing #applewings #pride and joy #prideandjoy #pride & joy #pride&joy #lucily #lucifer x emily #emily x lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #emily the seraph #emily the seraphim #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel #quillcifer 🍎🪶

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quillandink333 · 1 month

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The Other’s Choice • pt. 3

Credit to @winterxisxcomingx for the beautiful banner ♡︎

SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Faced with the harsh reality of Heaven's steadfast opposition, the angel of joy is forced to make a drastic decision with gruesome consequences, but luckily she isn't alone for long.

WARNINGS: Abrahamic imagery (obviously), pseudocest, body dysphoria, malnourishment

Part I • Part II • Part III

Emily was alone in Lucifer’s guest suite when, for the first time in over three weeks, she stood up out of bed by herself. Her transformation was finally over with. Her eyes were now a sickly yellow with bright red irises, her teeth were like arrowheads, her hands and feet looked as if they’d been burned like charcoal, and her interior feathers looked as if they’d been soaked in the blood of sinners. At least she’d managed to figure out how to conceal her new horns and tail with her host’s gracious guidance. All she wanted was to feel like herself again.

Her pristine royal gown, the one she’d been wearing on the day of her fall, loomed above her, hung from the top of the tall closet door opposite her bed. There it had been since that day, looking down on her. She used her wings to reach it.

When she had it back on, she wandered over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. It was the first time she’d lain eyes upon her reflection since she’d run away from home. But instead of finding satisfaction in the mere glimpse of familiarity, she tensed. She looked like Sera. The resemblance made her cheeks flare with anger and her stomach clench with bitterness. She let out a cry as she seized the length of her skirt with both hands, claws out, and tore it clean off.

But when she opened her eyes, they went wide with horror. Her cursed horns and tail were out on full display, and she knew that getting them to go away again would take hours if not the whole rest of the day due to her inexperience. What frightened her most, however, was seeing what she’d done to her once favourite dress. The skirt was now so short that, with the slight upward angle of the standing mirror, it put her unmentionables in full view.

She turned her back to the mirror and changed into the pair of Charlie’s old pyjamas she’d been given as fast as she physically could with a clumsy snap of her fingers. Then her gaze fell to the dress, watching it fall into a heap of fabric with the rest she’d ripped off. Her wings dragged behind her as she picked it up. Perhaps something could be done yet to salvage it.

Word Count: 3k

That afternoon, Lucifer was lounging in the parlour connected to her suite. Charlie had needed him at the hotel in the morning to discuss certain matters regarding the new building. Otherwise he’d have spent the whole day here right where Emily could find him, just in case she needed something. He’d gotten her a new phone to contact him with, but even so, the thought of leaving her alone in this strange and enormous castle left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Lu…cifer, S-Sir?”

He twisted around at the sound of her timid voice coming from the doorway to her room. “Yes, Em?”

She froze in place, her eyes darting around and her arms tucked mysteriously behind her back. Cocking his head at her, he gave her a warm, hopefully inviting look and gestured for her to come join him in the parlour, which she did, her tiny feet shuffling across the rug as she plopped herself on the chaise kitty-corner to him.

“What’s up, buttercup?” he smiled, encouraging her to speak her mind.

She couldn’t help but smile back at the nickname. “Well, uh…I have good news and bad news. Let’s just get the bad news out of the way first.”

He nodded attentively. “I’m all ears.”

“You know that dress I was wearing when I fell?” He gave another nod. “Yeah, so…about that…” How could she even begin to explain what had happened to it? “Well, let’s just say that…I let my emotions get the better of me, and it paid the price.”

“Oh dear. What happened?”

She forced a laugh. “I tore three quarters of the skirt off.”

“What?!” He made her flinch; she wasn’t expecting such an impassioned reaction from him. “But you loved that dress! What—”

“I know, it’s okay!” she cut him off before he could ask what in the seven rings had possessed her to do such a thing. “Don’t worry, okay? The good news is I fixed it. Sort of.” She then brought her hands out from behind her back and let said dress unfold in front of her. It had been magically reimagined to the point where it was all but unrecognisable. The skirt now fell to just above her knees, replaced with all new, crimson fabric. The bodice had stayed the same, except the eight-pointed symbol in the centre had changed colour to match the skirt, and the sleeves were gone completely. “Actually I kinda wanted to try making it better than before, in a way. What do you think?”

Lucifer took his time admiring her handiwork, pulling an impressed pout and making her giggle. “Not bad! Not bad at all,” he praised, standing up to run his fingers along each hem. “To be frank, I never cared much for the traditional Heavenly style so to speak, so this certainly is an improvement if you ask me.”

She lowered her head to hide her embarrassed grin. “Thanks, I’m glad.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Let me see it on you!”

This made Emily’s expression go blank as she realised she’d failed to think this far ahead.

“What’s wrong?” He raised an eyebrow. “It suits you perfectly, you know. Aren’t you proud of how it turned out?”

“I guess, but…” She turned her head in an attempt to lower her gaze.

At this, he frowned and thwarted her attempt by reaching out and tilting her chin back towards him. “But…?”

She sighed in defeat. “It’s just…I didn’t mean to tear off as much as I did. Or, well, I did, but when I tried it on again even after adding a couple inches to it, I still felt…exposed.” The word that came to mind initially was, ‘indecent,’ but in her head she knew modesty wasn’t worth much down here. “Maybe I’m just not used to showing so much yet.”

“Mh, that could be. I remember feeling like that,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s only natural for us fallen folk, when you think about it. I mean, we were brought into the world being told that our very bodies were something to be ashamed of and hidden, which—I’m gonna say it—is fucking ludicrous.” Though his language caught her off balance, she couldn’t disagree. “But hey, it’s absolutely okay if you need a little more time before you’re ready to start showing more skin. Not that you ever have to! It is your body, after all.”

She would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t feel any pressure at all to dress one way or the other, but the affirmations he offered did help to relieve some of it. Before she could help herself, images of gathered jacquard and pooling chiffon were already cycling through her mind, taking on a myriad of shapes and silhouettes.

“Lucifer…would you mind helping me with something?” she awkwardly asked. “My conjuring skills are nowhere near yours and…well, I’m gonna need some materials and tools and stuff if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, absolutely!” He stood up and held his cane at the ready. “As I’ve mentioned, my power is limitless for all intents and purposes, so don’t be afraid to ask for whatever anytime.”

She smiled to herself, having long since lost count of how many times he’d made her do that, flattered by his eager (albeit quite boastful) generosity. “Thank you. Let’s see, first I’ll need a dress form—” No later than the final syllable had passed her lips did the very object of her request appear next to her just inches away. “Oh—perfect! What else…? Measuring tape for sure, fabric scissors, a bolt of muslin, probably some tailor’s chalk, and a well-stocked pincushion should do it for now.” Each item appeared on the nearby coffee table as she listed them one by one. To her delight, the pincushion he conjured up was shaped like a little toy ducky, which she couldn’t help but adore.

“I’d be happy to help you practice your conjuring some time, if you’d like,” he offered offhandedly as she got to work draping pieces of the muslin here and there upon the dress form. “Seeing as you’re a seraph like myself, you must have a similar amount of potential, wouldn’t you think?”

“Really?” She beamed, though she didn’t look away from what she was doing. “Yes, please, that would be so helpful. I could only manage to make one pin at a time when I was doing the alterations on that,” she tilted her head toward the dress with the shortened skirt where it lay on the sofa, “and it took for-ever, oh my gosh, it was so-o-o tedious.”

“I can imagine,” he sniggered, unable to take his eyes off of her as she danced around the mannequin. “Still, I’m impressed you were able to do that much at your current skill level. Hopefully this will go a bit quicker with my help,” he added, despite not having the first idea what ‘this’ was that she’d suddenly gotten so swept up in. He didn’t even feel the need to ask, content to simply observe her in her state of hyper-focused diligence. She kept draping and pinning, tracing and cutting, as if she’d been doing this since the day she was born. The parlour fell into a comfortable silence except for when she needed him to provide something for her, like a different kind of fabric or some spare bobbins or a new spool of thread. She kept expressing her worries that all this magic was supposedly taking some kind of toll on him, but each time he’d reassure her and wave it off, saying he was more than happy to assist and that it cost him nothing whatsoever. Anything to keep him from decomposing alone in a prison of his own design, as had been the usual until the little angel had tumbled into his life.

Minutes soon accumulated into hours, and before either of them noticed, it was already past supper time. In fact, what finally alerted them both to the hour was a loud and unexpected growl from her stomach, causing her to blush. “Let me just try it on and make some final adjustments really quick,” she excused herself before carrying her armful of lovingly tailored textiles off to her room.

“Alright, take your time!” he called after her, keeping his amusement under wraps. “I’ll have dinner ready for us by the time you’re done!”

For someone with his magical ability, meal prep was something that could be finished with a snap of one’s finger. Despite this, Lucifer had grown rather fond of the muggle’s cooking process. Not only did he enjoy the artistry of concocting new and exciting (though not always pleasant) flavours, but he found it was a great way to kill time. Time that he had far too much of.

Once the stuffed pheasant was in the oven, he returned to the parlour just in time to see Emily emerge from her room in the most breathtaking attire he’d ever lain eyes on.

His eyes started at the cornflower-coloured bodice with its surprisingly striking halter neckline. The sheer sleeves were long and off the shoulders, beginning in a dainty lantern shape before ballooning down to her wrists. And then the skirt—oh, the skirt! It was mostly made of the same fabric as the bodice, but a broad band of beautiful royal-blue damask took up about the lowermost fifth of its length. And that wasn’t even the best part. Though the hem touched the floor, the front of it was suspended with two symmetrically placed silk bows (much like the oversized one hanging from her collar and lying quaintly across her chest) to right around her mid-thigh, the elegant drapes revealing a glimpse of her blackened but still lovely legs.

“Wowwie…” he mumbled under his breath as he took a few strides toward her, almost in a trance.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh, yes!” he gushed, having been so wrapped up in his admiration that he nearly forgot to say something. “It’s gorgeous, you look like a queen.” This comment brought out a bright glow in her cheeks, and as he connected the dots as to why, his face flushed as well. He cleared his throat. “But, uhm, d-do you? Like it, I mean?”

“Wait, you’re asking me if I like what I made?” she questioned, drawing an endeared sigh out of him. It seemed taking pride in anything she did was a foreign concept to the poor girl. “Well…” He waved his cane and conjured a mirror in front of her before she could express her indifference.

“It really suits you, you know,” he noted matter-of-factly. “Are you any more comfortable wearing this than the one you altered?”

She decided to humour him and beheld her reflection from multiple angles with as open a mind as she could have. “I think so,” she admitted, a sheepish smile teasing at the corners of her lips. “I was going for something less revealing than that one is now, but still a little bit more revealing than it was originally.”

As she stood there, taking in her appearance, she didn’t feel anything like the overwhelming shame and self-loathing that had come over her early that morning. She felt like a completely new, and dared she think improved, version of herself. She smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“Emily, dear, don’t you realise what you’re doing?” He came up behind her, their eyes meeting through the mirror as he positioned his hands on her exposed shoulders. She tilted her head. “You love this! Look at you, look at how long you spent on this today all in one sitting; it’s obvious how much you’ve been enjoying yourself,” he chuckled fondly. “I mean, not that I haven’t been…y’know…but anyway, it looks to me like you’ve found yourself a pretty great hobby.”

Emily didn’t know what to say. She was unsure how to even interpret his words, let alone how to respond.

“This is exactly what I wanted for you,” he emphasised, turning her around to face him. “You have no idea—if I hadn’t had my ducks to keep me busy, I’d have lost it ages ago. This is gonna be so, so good for you. For us, now that we have each other! Oh, Em…” While she was still processing his swell of emotion, he threw his arms around her and pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace, making her stumble forward.

The way the hug went on and on, she could feel how truly happy he was to behold her frivolous little creation. He was like a fountain of pure joy. No one, not even Sera, had ever reacted so strongly to her engaging in her own self-centred interests before. She couldn’t make sense of it. This was the first time she’d ever felt so seen, so appreciated, so individual. The feeling was so sweet and so profound, so much warmer and brighter than any sunlight that had ever touched her face in Heaven, it frightened her. Something about his relentlessly doting attention felt wrong. Misplaced, even. But despite this, her own arms wrapped around him in return with a will of their own. Great—now she could hardly bear to let go.

“So, after we’ve eaten, how ’bout finally making your grand entrance at the hotel in your stunning new getup?” he grinned, looking her up an down without letting go of her shoulders. “I think you’re about ready to introduce yourself to everyone, don’t you?”

Somehow that question was all it took for the floodgates to come crashing open. Ironically she couldn’t seem to identify her own emotions, nor could she even tell if what she was feeling was good or bad. Was it fear? Or beauty? Relief, maybe? Or grief? Whatever it was, the tears came, and they wouldn’t be subsiding any time soon.

Lucifer was panicking as he watched her suddenly crumble to pieces. “Wait, what’s wrong? Oh, oh dear.” He immediately gathered her into the shelter of his arms again, running an open hand from the crown of her head to the small of her back. “There, there, it’ll be alright. I got you. We don’t have to go to the hotel yet unless you’re sure you’re totally ready.”

“No, I-I am ready,” she sobbed, very much unready. “I just…” Her life was flashing before her eyes: another experience that was completely and utterly new to her. “I’m… I’m here,” she whimpered. “I’m not…up there anymore, a-and…I don’t even know who I am.”

All of a sudden, the devil felt himself being cast back ten thousand years, reliving the darkest moment of his torturous, never-ending life. He could never forget what it had been like to go from being blinded by celestial light glinting off blades of angelic steel to waking up broken and defiled in a wasteland of fire and brimstone as far as the eye could see. Seeing her blame herself for her so-called sins, it allowed a blazing inferno to come to life within the most forgotten depths of his soul.

No matter what the future held, he knew he couldn’t bear to let this pure, selfless spirit go through the same undue anguish he’d had to endure alone. He wouldn’t.

“C’mon, darling.” He kept an arm snugly around her waist while he began guiding her along toward the kitchen. “I’d venture a guess that you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast,” he sweetly chastised, drying her tears and gently encouraging her to meet his warm, protective gaze. “And hey, if parenthood has taught me anything, it’s that no one can face the world on an empty stomach,” he snorked—a successful attempt to get a smile out of her, albeit a broken one. “You’ll feel all the more ready to go meet the gang once your belly’s full, ’kay? Sound good?”

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