"Heaven, is not exactly as carefree as you might think"

by MK_the_Cosplayer

Summary:

(Post S01E08) Unusual chaos ensues in Hell as two angels plummet from heaven. Led by Charlie and guided by Lucifer, the residents hasten to aid the fallen, only to find the seraphim Emily and her girlfriend, a spider-humanoid named Molly. Molly, Angel's twin, is burdened by survivor's guilt and resentment towards heaven, while Emily yearns to return to her celestial realm. As their intertwined destinies unfold, hidden truths emerge, unveiling familial conflicts and drama that could reshape heaven and hell.

Notes:

• For Artyphex.

DO NOT DISCUSS THE (POSSIBLY) LEAKED SHOW SPOILERS PLS

I have not seen them. I do not want to see them.

Chapter 1: Falling Stars

Summary:

Emily falls from heaven. along with her girlfriend

The residents of Hazbin were enjoying a quiet afternoon. Husk was working the bar, Niffty was dealing with roaches, and Vaggie sat behind Charlie, braiding her girlfriend's hair. Lucifer was in the other room, handling a call about a dispute between Mammon and Asmodeus. Alastor was out in Cannibal Town, his whereabouts unknown. Angel was, unfortunately, at work, but was expected back before nightfall for once.

Husk glanced up at the muted television. "Hey, guys, you might want to see this," he called out urgently.

"What's up?" Charlie asked, looking over from where she sat with Vaggie.

They gathered around to see a 666 news alert displaying a fiery "meteor" hurtling towards the center of Pentagram City. Sinners were swarming towards the chaos, eager to witness the spectacle.

"Hey, dad?" Charlie called, thinking her father should see what was happening.

Lucifer walked in and froze in horror when he saw the screen. "Oh, shit," he muttered quietly.

"Dad?" Charlie prompted. Lucifer took a deep breath. "That's not a meteor; it's an angel falling from heaven."

Charlie's heart sank. "We need to go there, now!" she urged, knowing their help could be crucial.

Racing through the streets, they arrived just in time to witness the fiery object crash into the ground. To their astonishment, it was not just one angel, but two.

The smaller figure had been desperately trying to slow their descent, her feathers smoking from the heat. The taller figure had shielded her companion with her body and was now glaring fiercely at anyone who dared approach.

For Lucifer, the sight stirred memories long buried . As he approached the crater, he felt a painful echo of his own fall from grace alongside his ex-wife, Lilith.

"Lilith..." Lucifer's voice trailed off, his gaze distant as he remembered their shared descent into Hell. He glared at the sinners who were approaching the crater, eyeing the angels like fresh prey.

With a surge of raw emotion, he shed his human guise, revealing his true demon form. His aura radiated power and authority.

"Stand back, you vultures!" Lucifer roared, his voice echoing across the desolate landscape. "These are not toys for your amusement!"

The onlooking demons scattered in fear at the sight of Lucifer’s demonic form.

Charlie, who had been slowly making her way to the edge of the crater, looked over the side and gasped. "Holy shit. That’s Emily!"

Hearing her name, the seraphim looked up. "Charlie! Oh, thank goodness!"

“I’m coming down, alright?” Lucifer said, recalling Charlie’s story about her seraphim friend. Emily nodded. “Wait here,” Lucifer warned the others, his voice commanding yet tinged with concern.

With a powerful leap, he soared through the air, landing gracefully in the crater beside the angels.

Lucifer landed beside the fallen seraphim and her companion, his wings spread protectively to shield them. "Are you both alright?" he inquired, his tone softened with genuine concern. Emily affirmed, "I'm okay, but Molly..."

"I'm fine," Molly interrupted.

"Sweetie, please let them help," Emily implored, gently taking Molly's hand. The spider-eyed girl regarded Lucifer with distrust, though her wavering stance betrayed her pain.

"You know these girls?" Husk asked Vaggie from where they stood around the crater.

Vaggie nodded. “Yeah. Emily’s the seraphim who supported the Hotel in court.”

“Who’s the other one?” Niffty asked.

“I don’t know,” Vaggie admitted.

“Dad? Is it safe?” Charlie asked. Lucifer nodded to his daughter, gesturing for her to join them.

“Okay. I’m heading down there. Vaggie, take everyone else back to the hotel and get the place ready,” Charlie ordered, and the group reluctantly agreed.

Without hesitation, Charlie rushed over to Emily, embracing her warmly. The pair began talking quickly. Emily attempted to pull Molly closer, but the spider humanoid stumbled despite her four legs.

"Ow. Fuck" Molly cursed, her discomfort evident.

“Oh my gosh, Molly, I’m so sorry! I forgot about your wings!” Emily squeaked, apologizing frantically. Molly offered her girlfriend a pained smile.

“It’s alright doll.”

“Wait. What about your wings?” Lucifer asked urgently. He had noticed Molly's distinct lack of wings but assumed she was keeping them hidden.

Emily answered for her girlfriend. “Sera removed them.”

“Why would she do that?” Charlie said with a gasp. Molly's face contorted into a grimace.

“I, uh, may have told her that if she was kickin' Emily out of heaven, she might as well kick me too, because I'd rather be in hell than stay with a bunch of fuckin' hypocrites.”

A chuckle broke the tension. Lucifer grinned at Molly.

“You said that to Sera?” Molly nodded, looking down. Emily huffed.

“She sure did. And she got her wings sliced off as punishment.”

“Well, that was quite a ballsy move. And that’s coming from the angel who gave free will to humans. Consider me impressed, Mary,” Lucifer said.

“It’s Molly,” she corrected.

“Ah, noted. Anyways, if you grab my arm, I can heal those gashes up real quick,” Lucifer offered. Molly raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously?” Lucifer shrugged.

“Yeah. No big deal.” Molly hesitated before grabbing his arm. She gasped and doubled over as golden light flowed through her arm and up into her back, magically stitching closed the wounds. She hadn't realized how painful they truly were until they were gone.

"Thank you, Lucifer," she said bowing down towards the king .

The king nodded awkwardly and formed a portal gesturing for them to go inside.

—

The group spent the rest of the afternoon showing Molly and Emily around, mostly lead by Charlie, and then discussing the activities they would participate in. Lucifer had to leave to attend to other duties but he promised to return soon to show the girls around other parts of the city

“Oh and you need to meet Angel and Alastor!” Charlie squealed

“There’s a sinner named Angel?” Molly asked with a laugh. Emily nodded
“Oh I remember him! He was the one we watched live at that club during the trial!”

“Wait what?” Husk asked “you didn’t tell us bout no live video.” He accused. Charlie shifted awkwardly

“um yeah about that…” she was interrupted by a loud door slam

 

Angel limped into the hotel lobby, clutching his lower back in pain.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his voice. "Fuck. Val made me redo a scene seven times because those idiots couldn't get it right. Hey, Husk, could I—"

His sentence was cut short as he froze, his gaze fixed on the figure of the other spider humanoid.

Notes:

hehehe. don't worry next chapter has the twins reactions

Chapter 2: When Tony Met Molly

Summary:

The twins reunite... that's it. that's the chapter

Notes:

i couldn’t leave yall in suspense lol

Angel limped into the hotel lobby, clutching his lower back in pain.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his voice. "Had to redo that scene seven times because those idiots couldn't get it right. Hey, Husk, could I—"

His sentence was cut short as he froze, his gaze fixed on the figure of another spider-like humanoid.

"Angel?" Husk's concerned voice broke through his reverie, but Angel remained silent.

Molly turned around, her expression shifting from confusion to recognition.

"Anthony?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Suddenly, Angel couldn't hold back anymore. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he rushed forward, embracing his sister tightly.

"Molly. Oh my god, Molly, it's really you. Holy shit," he murmured, clinging to her tightly, fearing she might vanish.

"So, you two know each other?" Charlie’s question broke the emotional moment. Molly giggled as she released Angel.

"Well, I damn well hope so, considering we shared a womb for nine months and then a room for 11 years," she quipped with a grin.

"Wait, so you're..." Vaggie started to ask.

"Twins? Yeah, this is Molly, my sista,” Angel confirmed, but then he paused, a realization dawning on him. "Wait a fucking minute. Molly. What are you doing down here? You're supposed to be up with Ma in heaven."

Molly rolled her eyes dramatically.

"What, am I not allowed to come down and say hi to my baby brother?" she teased, trying to deflect Angel's seriousness.

"I'm not joking around, Molly. What the fuck are you doing here?" Angel's tone was sharp with concern.

"We... fell," Emily confessed softly, her voice barely audible beside Molly.

Angel turned to Emily, his arms crossing defensively. "Okay, and who the fuck are you?" he demanded, causing Emily to stifle a gasp at his language and shrink behind Molly for protection.

"Tony, this is Emily. My girlfriend," Molly introduced calmly, her eyes conveying a silent plea for understanding.

"Hi!" Emily exclaimed, trying to appear cheerful despite her unease. Angel nodded in acknowledgment.

"Yeah, hi. What do you mean, fell? You don’t mean..." He trailed off, realization dawning slowly.

"Fell from heaven? Yeah, that's exactly what we mean," Molly admitted reluctantly, her gaze shifting to the floor as she braced for Angel's reaction. He shook his head trying to process everything.

"Shit. I need a drink," Angel muttered, sinking onto a barstool with his head in his hands. Without a word, Husk began mixing up one of Angel’s usual favorites.
Molly hopped onto a nearby stool, leaving space between them. Emily returned to sit between Charlie and Vaggie, still visibly nervous.

"Want anything?" Husk asked Molly.
"As long as you don't serve me moonshine, I'll take whateva," she replied with a nonchalant shrug. Angel chuckled, into his drink.

"Shit. Haven't thought about that stuff in ages. It was like drinking straight rubbing alcohol," he reminisced, shaking his head. Husk hummed and poured Molly the same thing angel was drinking, although with a little less vodka.

Molly jumped as Niffty leaped up onto the counter, her eye fixed intensely on the female spider, needle in hand.

"Why did you call Angel by the wrong name?" she asked, her tone curious. Molly blinked, confused.

"Huh?"

"You called him Tony. That’s not his name," Niffty clarified. Molly stared at her, still puzzled.

"Yeah. Tony... it’s a nickname for Anthony," Molly explained slowly. Niffty tilted her head, her expression incredulous.

"Who's Anthony?" she inquired. Angel coughed awkwardly.

"Uh, I am, Niff."

"No. You're Angel Dust," Niffty countered. Angel chuckled nervously.

"I mean, sure. But that ain't what my parents named me." Niffty gave him a blank stare

"You didn’t think they'd actually name me after a drug, right?" he added with a wry grin. He turned to Molly. “That’s her thing.” Molly punched his arm affectionally

“Oh fuck off. besides that didnt apply until afta our time”

Chapter 3: Revelations and Room Assignments

Summary:

The twins talk. Emily experiences Angel Dust.

CW: brief mentions of period-typical homophobia. The word queer is used. I am queer. 👹 Fight me 👹

Also, there seems to be mixed canon about whether Vaggie was human or not. For the sake of this story, Vaggie was born an angel.

"No. You're Angel Dust," Niffty countered. Angel chuckled nervously.

"I mean, sure. But that ain't what my parents named me." Niffty gave him a blank stare

"You didn’t think they'd actually name me after a drug, right?" he added with a wry grin. He turned to Molly.

“That’s her thing.” Molly punched his arm affectionally

“Oh fuck off. besides that didnt apply until after our time”

“Ohhhh” Niffty said nodding in understanding
“So Angel Dust is your….” She thought for a moment.
“Dead name!”

Angel choked on his drink. Molly stifled a laugh.

“Love the enthusiasm but, uh. Let’s come up with a different term for it Niff.” Angel encouraged

The cyclops thought for a moment

“Hell name!” She decided. Molly nodded agreeably.

“Hell name I like the sound of that. Good choice….uh”

“I’m Niffty! I like to clean. And stab things! And- OH BUG!" Niffty zoomed off.

Angel sighed “Sorry about-"

“Don't sweat it. She’s funny." Emily cautiously walked over to Molly who gestured for her to sit down between her and Angel.

“I’m guessing you don’t drink?” Husk asked her.

Emily blushed and shook her head “No. We actually don’t have alcohol in heaven!”

Husk grunted “The more I learn about that place the less I want to go there.” Angel hummed in agreement.

“I mean heaven’s great! There’s so many nice people and everything is so beautiful and-“ Emily rambled

“Em. Breathe. Ya don’t have to give tours of the place anymore.” Molly said affectionately wrapping her arm around the shorter fallen angel who relaxed into her.

“Hey uh. Speaking of dead names. Whatcha identifying as down here?” Molly asked Angel.

“A dick sucking hoe.” He replied casually. Emily gasped and would have fallen off her stool, if not for Molly's arm around her. She collected herself, her face bright red. Husk turned at her

“Listen kid. If you’re going to turn red every time this fucker makes a sex joke, your face is gonna get stuck that way.” Emily nodded and buried her face into Molly’s shoulder. The female spider rolled her eyes at her brother.

“Yeah yeah. But ya know what I mean. I know you was queer when we was alive. But are you still calling yourself a fella down here or what?” Angel smiled

"Oh don't worry sis, I'm still a friend of Dorothy," he said with a wink. "And, yeah I'm a guy. But, I do drag, and wear whatever the fuck I want. Honestly, I don’t really give a shit what people think I am.” Angel said shrugging nonchalantly.

Molly grinned “good to hear it.” She raised her drink and the two of them clinked glasses.

“Wait a minute. Angel came out to you? Like when you were both alive?” Husk interjected, clearly shocked by the revelation. Molly nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah. We were 13, I think?” Angel said. “I uh. Got high for the first time and had a breakdown in our room. Told this one I was going to hell for being a queer.”

“And I told you if that’s why you got sent to hell then heaven didn’t deserve you.” Molly said firmly. “And I fucking stand by that.” Angel gave her a soft smile.

Emily grinned looking at the two of them

“It’s so good to see you two getting along!” She said excitedly.

“Eh. Don’t get used to it.” Molly said. Angel stuck his tongue out at her

Another voice startled the group, they’d forgotten they weren’t alone.

“Why did your sexuality have to be a secret?" Charlie asked.

The group turned to face her.

"Uh, we grew up in the first half of the 1900s," Molly explained. Charlie blinked, still perplexed.

"I... I don't think I follow," Charlie admitted, her confusion evident. Molly crossed her arms, amused by Charlie's innocence.

"You don't know much 'bout Earth, do you?"

Charlie blushed in embarrassment. "I mean, I've read books, but... no."

"Thats okay!" Emily chimed in reassuringly. "I don’t either."

Molly chuckled and affectionately ruffled her girlfriend’s hair. "We can tell doll."

"You see, Charlotte, being gay wasn’t exactly… allowed in our time," Alastor explained from where he had been observing in the corner. He had returned some time after Molly and Emily arrived, silently slinking into the room and scaring the shit out of both of the fallen angels.

"Allowed?" Vaggie asked, seeking clarification.

“Our Pops would have killed me for being gay," Angel clarified bluntly.

Charlie gasped

“You can’t mean that!” Molly chuckled darkly. “Oh he sure does. That bastard whacked people for a whole lot less.”

"Whacked... so you mean... he would have beaten you?" Charlie asked, silently hoping this would be the horrific answer, rather than the concept of Angel being killed by his own father.

“No Charlie. Whacked means killed.” Alastor clarified.

"Oh." Charlie said awkwardly.

Silence settled over the room. Molly cleared her throat.

“You know.” Molly said with looking down at her girlfriend “That Niffty gal kinda reminds me of a demented version of you.” she teased trying to lighten the mood

"Hey!" Emily squawked

“What? You gonna tell me your'e not a tiny ball of energy who zooms around the place?”

“I’m not tiny!” Emily complained.

“Uh huh.”

“You’re just super tall!”

“Seems to run in the family.” Angel butt in. “Sorry for scarin ya when we met by the way”

“It’s okay! I’m just glad Molly found you! She talked about you all the time!”

“Em!” Molly hissed embarrassed

“Did she now?” Angel said “well I guess it’s good to know you missed me.”

Molly rolled her eyes

“Yeah. Or I just had lots of stories about you being a little shit.”

Angel shrugged “Eh. That too.”

Niffty came running down the stairs, a fresh roach impaled on her needle she stopped at Emily’s feet and pulled on her dress

“Your room is ready!”

“Oh! Thank you! You’re so sweet I appreciate you setting up a room for me.” Niffty shook her head and pointed between Emily and Molly with her needle

“Your room.” She emphasized. Realization crossed Emily’s face. She got up from the bar and stumbled back until she was seated next to Charlie on the couch.

“Our room?” Emily squeaked her face turning bright red. Charlie looked at her friend her head tilted in confusion “I mean I thought you two would want to share…”

“But…we’re not married!” Emily said horrified at the notion. Angel snickered.

Molly shot him a glare “Shut it. She grew up in heaven. And they got rules ‘gainst that stuff up there.”

She got up from the barstool and approached her girlfriend. She extended her lower arms and took Emily’s hands in hers.

“Em, we can stay in separate rooms or share one. Your call doll.”

“Separate? At least for now? Please?” Emily managed. Molly smiled clearly unbothered by this living situation.

“Niffty darling. Would you mind setting up one more room?” Alastor asked. Niffty nodded enthusiastically and took off

“Right um. Vaggie and I can show you to your room?” Charlie offered. Emily nodded enthusiastically desperate to get away from the awkwardness.

 

Once they were out of earshot Angel grinned at Molly mischievously .

 

“Damn sooo you’ve been celibate for what… couple decades now? I mean long how long has you been with Miss Innocent?”

“We’ve been togetha for ‘bout thirty years.” Molly replied pointedly ignoring his first question.

“Damn. I didn’t think a person could go without sex that long.” He teased

“You’d be the ace on that” Molly said stirring her drink with her finger.

Angel raised an eyebrow “Maybe it escaped your notice, but down here? I’m a porn star. So the fuck you mean?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” Molly retorted giving him a pointed look

Angel looked at her confused. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“That you died a virgin” she said casually

Husk choked on the bottle he'd been drinking from letting out a loud cough. Alastor looked vaguely uncomfortable as he faded in to the shadows, likely returning to his room.

Angel stared at Molly, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.

“How the fuck did you know that?” Molly grinned

“Didn’t until three seconds ago. ”

“You’re a bitch.” He accused, but there was no heat behind it. Molly shrugged

“Takes one to know one brotha. So yeah. Fuck off. Emily and my sex life ain't noneya business. Got it?” She said poking a finger into his chest.

“Fine.” He huffed. He finished off his drink. "Change of subject then. How's Ma doin?"

Notes:

Brain decided to go brrrr so yall get chapter early <3

Molly uses more old-timey slang than Angel Dust because Angel's been surrounded by modern technology a lot more. Also, because I want her to hehe.

Chapter 4: Buonanotte, stellina.

Summary:

A closer look at Emily and Molly's relationship. Very hurt/comfort/kinda fluffy? Btw @BrownieBatX3 commented that HeavenlySpider is the ship name for Molly and Emily and absolutely, yes, that is adorable. idk if that already existed or if u made that up but yes <3

(Update ship name is now apparently SpiderPhim haha)

Notes:

Let me know if u prefer Italian translations immediately after they are used, or in authors notes. For this chapter they will be on the bottom in authors notes. Also apologies if the translations are bad. I am of italian heritage (i fear the wooden spoon and make pizzelles) but i don't speak it.

“Fine,” he huffed. He finished off his drink. "Change of subject then. How's Ma doin'?"

That was apparently not a good topic of conversation. Molly tensed up.

“She’s… happy,” she decided finally. Angel went to ask more, but Molly interrupted.

“I’m gonna head to bed. Any chance ya got something that might fit me?” she asked. Angel’s confused expression changed when he saw the desperate look in his sister's eyes. 'Please. Not now.'

“Yeah, probably,” he said casually and gestured for her to follow him up the stairs. He led her into his room and began riffling through his wardrobe for something she could wear. As she had 4 arms and 4 legs instead of 6 arms and two legs like him, it took some searching.

Molly sat on the bed and yelped when something warm and heavy raced into her lap. “The fuck?” she shouted.

“Huh?” Angel asked. He poked his head out of the closet. “Oh, that’s just Fat Nuggets. He’s my pet pig. He’s harmless.”

Molly looked uncertainly at the pig, who brushed up against her hand demandingly. She began to pet him, surprised at how soft he was.

“You named him ‘Fat Nuggets’?” she asked with a judgmental gaze.

“Hey!” Angel protested, throwing a couple of options onto the bed."Fat Nuggets is a great name!” Molly didn’t look convinced. “He’s my little nugget of joy, and he’s fat!” Molly chuckled.

“You are so weird,” Angel shrugged.

“Think any of these might work? I ain’t got no pants with four legs,” Molly sighed grabbing an oversized sleep shirt  

“No one does. Been wearing skirts and dresses since I died.”

“Oh poor you,” Angel mocked. Molly blew him a raspberry and got up to leave. She stopped at the door.

“I… Buonanotte, Tony. Grazie per tutto.”

“Buonanotte Molly, è bello rivederti,” Angel replied almost automatically. He short-circuited for a moment trying to remember the last time he had spoken his mother tongue. Molly smiled at him knowingly as she walked out.

---

Molly walked into the room Niffty had prepared for her. Once inside, she went to the bathroom and changed out of her dress.

She froze, seeing the reflection of golden scars running down her shoulder blades for the first time. It had been over eighty years since she last saw herself without her wings. Sure she’d felt herself lose her wings, the fall, seeing her brother again… but standing in this room, staring at the scars, with the sounds of Hell echoing from the streets, It was suddenly so much more real.
A knock jolted her out of her thoughts.

“Be right wit'cha !” Molly called out as she hastily threw on the oversized shirt, exited the bathroom, and opened the door to find Emily standing in the doorway, fidgeting.

The seraphim appeared to have borrowed a nightgown, probably from Charlie, and someone had cut slits for her wings in it.

“Can um, can I come in? I don't want to... you know, I just—today's been a lot and—“ Molly silenced her with a hug.

“Of course. Come on in, mia stellina.”

Emily huffed, “I still don't know what that means,” she complained as she followed Molly. The two of them sat on the fully made bed, their backs against the headboard.

“And I’m still not gonna tell ya,” Molly said, tapping the dots between Emily’s eyes. The fallen seraphim wrinkled her face.

“Meanie. It better not mean something dirty,” she accused. Molly shook her head.

“It doesn't. Hell, I called ya that in front of my ma. Ya really think I’d call you something dirty in front of her? She'd be after me with a wooden spoon!” Emily giggled.

“Where would she have gotten a wooden spoon in heaven?”

Molly turned and looked at her girlfriend in mock seriousness. “Never doubt an Italian mother's ability to find a wooden spoon.”

Emily hummed and rested her head on Molly's shoulder, snuggling into her. Molly took Emily's hand.

“Wanna talk about it?” Molly asked.

“About what?” Emily attempted to deflect.

Molly turned until she locked eyes with her girlfriend. “Em. Please?”
Emily melted.

“I... I’m scared Molly. Everything down here it's just so—" she gestured frantically.

“I still don’t understand what I did wrong! Charlie’s plan worked! The snake man, Sir Pentious? He made it up there! Why was me arguing to the court that the hotel worked such a bad thing!” She started to cry.

“But It must have been bad, I must have been bad… because I… I… fell. And dragged you with me! I mean you lost your wings for heaven’s sake! But you're just so confident. It's like you're not phased by this place at all.”

Molly wrapped her upper hands around Emily's shoulders and pulled her closer.

“Emily. Listen to me. You never did nothing wrong. I don’t know why heaven is so resistant to change, but you are a good person, you did not deserve what they did. I chose to fall along with youse 'cause I knew you were right. Do not blame yourself for my choice. Because I don’t regret it one bit.”

Emily sniffed and wiped her eyes. Molly continued.

“And hey, I’d be concerned if ya weren’t scared. Hell, I am too. But ya right, I guess I’m just more used to this kinda scene. In a weird way… hell feels familiar; it reminds me of Earth, well the parts I grew up in. Although, I can’t say I'm used to seeing my brother’s naked body posted everywhere.”

She shuddered. Emily smiled appreciatively at Molly's attempt to lighten the mood.

She pulled away and wiped her eyes, "Earth kinda stunk for you huh?"
Molly laughed, "Eh. It had its charm. And hey, I’m sure if anyone can find the charm in Hell, it’ll be you and that featherbrained princess."

Emily pouted, “Don't call her that. Her name is Charlie.”

“Okay, okay. You and her majesty, princess Charlie,” Molly said in a mock royal tone.

Emily giggled, “You're impossible. But... thank you,” she said, sitting up to kiss Molly's cheek.

Molly smiled, “Of course, stellina. Want me to walk you back to your room?”

Emily nodded. They made the short walk across the hall to Emily’s room.

Emily turned and blushed before standing on her tiptoes to give Molly a chaste kiss. “Good night, Molly.”

“Good night, mia stellina,” Molly replied.

Emily giggled, “I’m going to find out what that means one day!”

Molly smiled, “I know you will.” Emily smiled shyly before entering the room, closing the door behind her.

Molly sighed, staring at Emily’s door before retreating back to her own room.

Notes:

Buonanotte, Tony. Grazie per tutto : Goodnight, Tony. Thank you for everything

 

Buonanotte Molly, è bello rivederti.: Goodnight Molly, it's good to see you again

 

(mia) stellina: hehe I’m not telling youuuuu

Chapter 5: One Normal Morning (?)

Summary:

Nothing can remain peaceful forever in Hell. (Title inspired by the Addams Family musical bc I’m a dork)

Molly came down  to find most of the hotel already awake. Emily, Husk, and Angel sat at a large dining table, Niffty was running around grabbing food from peoples plates and intermittently stabbing bugs. Charlie and Vaggie had yet to make an appearance. Most surprising at all was the formidable Radio Demon in a red apron cooking and humming to himself, the melody echoing around the room as if he himself were a radio.

The overlord turned to her, offering her his signature unnerving smile.

“I see you survived your first night in Hell! Well done. Grab whatever takes your fancy my dear.” Molly nodded still confused by this arrangement. She grabbed a plate and loaded it with eggs, sausage, and a sort of donut looking pastry she didn’t recognize. Her joy surged at the sight of a pot of coffee. In Heaven, caffeine had been classified as a drug, so this energy-giving substance was a welcome sight. She poured herself a large cup before exiting the kitchen. 

---

Molly took up residence next to Emily; who was enthusiastically engaged in a conversation with a half-asleep Husk. Angel was watching them with amusement as he ate his breakfast. He shot his sister a wink as she sat down. 

"So when did you fall?" Emily asked. Husk looked her confused.

“Huh?” He grunted

Angel snickered. "You trying to asking him if it hurt when he fell from Heaven toots?" Emily frowned

“No... i know that hurts. I’m asking you when you fell from Heaven Mr Husk. Like how long have you been here in Hell instead of in Heaven?"

Alastor let out a loud “Ha-Ha” from the kitchen

Husk raised a middle finger in Alastor's direction before taking a sip of his spiked coffee.

"Why the fuck would you think I’m from Heaven? he grumbled

"You have wings." she explained. Husk shifted uncomfortably

"Ah. that."

"I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to be rude- I just- your form, you’re a cat right and cats don’t usually have wings and-“ Emily began to ramble

"Kid. Slow down. It’s okay. Fuck you're like Charlie 2.0" Husk said rubbing his temples

"Truth is I've got no fucking clue why I've got wings. Spawned here with em." he admitted

"He's a winged kitty!" Niffty chimed in stealing a sausage from his plate. Husk grunted. Had anyone else made a that kind of cat comment he would have lost it. But he knew better than to fight Niffty.

Emily nodded, apparently satisfied with that explanation. She turned to Molly 

“Morning Molly!” she said bubbly as always.

“Mornin’ Em.” Molly murmured taking a long sip of her coffee.

“Hey uh. Just for reference. Is this one… always this chipper in the mornin’? Angel asked gesturing to Emily. Emily giggled in response and lowered her plate inviting Niffty to steal some of her food.

Molly grunted and nodded. Then she spotted the cup of brown liquid in front of Emily. Dread filled her gut.

“Hey uh doll? You aint drinkin’ coffee right?” Emily huffed and glared at Angel

“No. It’s hot chocolate. I wanted to try coffee but your brother wouldn’t let me. He kept playing keep away with the coffee pot!” she complained with a pout.

Niffty’s head popped up next to Husk’s lap “Coffee?” She asked her eye wide in excitement

“No!” Husk, Alastor and Angel said in unison. Molly chuckled as the tiny cyclops pouted before darting after another bug.

“Toots I’ve seen enough to know ya don’t need caffeine.” Angel said to Emily as way of explanation.

“I concur. Consider yourself added to the Hotel’s so called “no caffeine allowed” list” Along with Charlotte and Niffty.” Alastor chimed in.

Molly nodded in agreement earning her a glare from Emily.

“So uh, what did tiny do when she had caffeine?” Molly asked quickly changing the subject. Angel shuddered

“You don’t want to know.”

Husk grunted in agreement. “Just trust us. You don’t want to see caffeinated Niffty.”

The sound of footsteps racing down the stairs caught everyone’s attention. Charlie raced in clutching her phone followed by Vaggie.

“Guys. Bad new. Bad bad bad news.” She began, out of breath.

“Charlie. It’s fine. We can handle it.” Vaggie said trying to calm the frantic princess

"But Vaggie-"

“Hey uh. Anyone gonna clue us in on what the fuck youse is panicking about?” Molly asked

Charlie nodded frantically and grabbed a remote, turning on a TV in the corner of the room. Alastor grumbled in displeasure, glaring at the TV like it had personally insulted him.

Vox's news voice filled the room as the broadcast played.

"And as you can see, folks, two angels seemed to have arrived from Heaven—or should I say fallen from. And they appear to have been rescued by the residents of the Hazbin Hotel. Including, well, isn’t that interesting. Our very own King! Now, I hear you asking, What does this mean for the safety of Hell? Could these angels be decoys sent from Heaven to exterminate us? Could Princess Morningstar and her band of misfits be working alongside Heaven to destroy us? Well here at Vox Tech-"

Before Vox could finish, the TV screen exploded, leaving behind a cacophony of radio static. The group, except for Niffty, all clutched their ears at the loud noise. Emily looked up, gasping, when she noticed that Alastor's eyes had turned into radio dials.

“Alastor!” Vaggie chided. The demon regained control of himself as he brushed his hands on his apron.

“Apologies dear Vagatha. You know I simply cannot stand that ignorant fool Vox spouting utter nonsense.”

“That’s not my name!” Vaggie seethed. Charlie butt in cutting off their argument.

“Al, the problem is we know it’s nonsense, but it’s looking like a lot of sinners don’t! Vox released that broadcast last night and has been playing it hourly! Sinners everywhere are panicking! It’s all over social media!”

Angel grimaced “ya think they’ll try and come here?” Charlie didn’t answer but her worried expression told the group all they needed to know.

Emily turned to Charlie, her expression one of confusion

”What's so wrong with people knowing we're here?" She asked. Molly smiled patiently at her girlfriend placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Em, we're angels. The only time sinners see angels is when they come down to exterminate them." Emily's eyes widened in realization, her mouth forming an 'ohh.'

The entire group jumped at the sound of a loud crash.

“I swear if it's that fucking wall again.” Vaggie grumbled. They all abandoned their breakfasts and ran towards the noise to find a delivery truck had rammed it’s way through the front wall.

Niffty walked forward to try and investigate the truck but was swiftly grabbed by Alastor. The cyclops seemed unfazed by this as she chose to instead nimbly climb onto the deer’s shoulders.

A massive sinner slowly emerged from the truck. He was a terrifying fusion of scorpion and spider with dark fur, foreboding brows, and eerie presence. Eight piercing red eyes scanned the room. Upon landing on Molly and Angel, a sinister smile stretched across his face. The twins froze.

Notes:

Which do we think is more chaotic? Drunk Niffty or Caffeinated Niffty?

Chapter 6: Daddy's Home

Summary:

Henroin appears. He's a dickhead. A certain someone goes super saiyan on his ass

Notes:

sorry this is being posted so late. stuff got chaotic lol
--------

CW: Henroin is an abusive shitbag. He minorly injures both Molly and Angel

He also uses the F slur towards gay people. I am gay. He is a homophobic bastard.

 

To everyone's surprise it was Alastor who spoke first. He took Niffty off his shoulder and approached the large demon, placing himself between Angel, Molly and the wall destroyer.

"Henroin. To what do we owe this pleasure." Alastor drawled. The scorpion hybrid glared at the Radio Demon.

"Alastor" he spat. "Heard ya were stayin here. Oh how the mighty have fallen" he taunted.

Alastor to his credit, did not take the bait. Instead he drummed his hand on his cane

"You know Henroin. We do have a front door." Vaggie stiffled a laugh.

Henroin snapped his neck to stare at her, all 8 eyes glaring. Angel shifted until he blocked her from view. Henroin scoffed pushing past him and moved to sit on the sofa.

"I’m here on... family buisness."

"No the fuck you aint. We don't want nothin' to do with ya. Get. Out." Angel spat

Henroin ignored him and turned until he could see the back of Molly's head.  She was visibly shaking.

"Well. Well. Well. So it's true. You is here. Ciao carissima figlia. " Molly didn’t answer him her eyes trained on the floor

"Well? Ain't you going to greet your papà?" he asked a hint of warning in his tone. When Molly didn’t respond again he growled and got up to walk towards her. Angel stuck his left arms out blocking him.

"Leave. Her Alone." He said firmly glaring at his father. Henroin grabbed Angels arms and twisted them painfully before shoving him roughly away. Husk caught Angel as he stumbled clutching his arms

"You stay out of this puttana! "

"Don't call him that." Molly said quietly as she turned around.

Henroin glared to her

"What did ya say?" Molly held her ground, trying to mimimize her shaking. She looked her father in the eye. "I said. Don't call him that." She repeatedly louder. Before any of the others could react Henroin had Molly by the throat and was holding her in midair.

"Ya know. Lorenzo would be  molto felice to see ya." Molly choked back a sob her eyes full of terror  

"Let her go!" Charlie shouted her horns appearing. The others looked just as murderous. Henroin chuckled.

"As ya wish" He said. Before promptly throwing Molly across the parlor. Her head smacked into the wall with a sickening thud.

"Shit!" Angel shouted as he, Niffty and Husk took off to help her.

Alastor began to transform, green light starting to appear around him but paused upon hearing a booming voice. "HOW. DARE YOU!" the entire group jumped.

Emily was floating in midair, all six wings out, red eyes glowing on her dress and forehead. She flew past Charlie and Vaggie and landed in front of the scorpion

Henroin smirked at her. "And who do you think you is girly?"

"I’m Emily. And you just hurt my girlfriend." The fallen seraphim stated her glare murderous

Henroin hissed in displeasure

"Ya tellin me i raised not one but two faggots? Fucking dissapoints the both of ya. Ya muthah would be disgusted." Emily glowed brighter her fists clenched.

"No." she stepped closer to Henroin

"She isnt. I met Maria. She is a lovely woman. You on the other hand are the most despicable being I have ever met. You should be ashamed of yourself for how you treat your children. I’m glad Maria doesnt remember you." Henroin's eyes glowed in rage at the last comment

"Fuck you bitch." He snarled and tried to grab her.

Emily screamed in rage. The ground shook as a beam of pure light shot from her hands shooting Henroin and the truck out of the building, and across the entire street. Emily flew into the air, stopping when she hovered above him.

"If you dare touch Angel or Molly again. And I won't just throw you. Now go back to wherever you came from! Please." She yelled, before smiling sweetly. Henroin took off, stumbling down the street cursing loudly in Italian. 

Emily flew back down to the hotel, transforming back into her human form. She blushed embarrassed

"Uh? Sorry about that?" She squeaked out. The hotel residents stared at her in awe.

A portal appeared in the middle of the room, Lucifer in full demon form stepped out

Notes:

Emily: looks like a cinnamon roll 😇 could kill you.

---------------------
translations:

Ciao carissima figlia: hello dearest daughter
puttana: whore
molto felice: very happy
---------------------
Who could Lorenzo be?

What could Emily have meant by "Maria doesn't remember Henroin anymore?"

Feel free to speculate!

Chapter 7: Magic, Mobsters, and Memories

Summary:

"Every single day in heaven is a happy day" no matter what that takes

“What angels dare destroy this hotel? Didn’t we fuck you enough last time?” Lucifer boomed beginning to float in midair as his eyes scanned the lobby.

 

Emily sobbed and ran towards the king falling to her knees her head touching the ground. Lucifer froze

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It was me! I shouldn’t have gotten angry. I’ll be better!” Emily was gasping for air as she shook between sobs

The king’s anger broke. He quickly regained control of himself. He transformed back into his human form and knelt in front of the seraphim.

“Shit. I forgot. You're a seraphim… fuck… thats why I sensed that much heavenly energy. Emma hey it’s okay… What happened?” He reached for her hand.

Emily flinched away from his touch. He sat back on his heels concerned and confused.

“Charlie?” He asked. Charlie was visibly shaken by the events but walked over to her dad

“Emily protected Molly from her father.” Emily let out a broken sound. She sat up and glared at Charlie   

“No I didn’t! Don’t lie! Molly got hurt beforehand! I just got angry afterwards… I’m not supposed to-“ Emily cut herself off curling into a ball, her wings wrapping around her like a blanket 

“Em, Stellina I’m okay.” Molly reassured. She was sitting up supported by Angel and Husk. Niffty had sewn up the gash on the back of her head. It was healing quickly on account of her accelerated angelic? Demonic? healing. She didn’t know which it was at this point but she was grateful for it either way. Angel’s arms were wrapped in ace bandages but he looked mostly unscathed. Emily didn’t respond.

“You’re not supposed to what?” Lucifer prompted. Emily froze like a deer in headlights.

“I… I’m not…” her voice trailed off. Sera’s words echoed in her head

“it's your position to keep them happy and joyful”

“Buncha fuckers in heaven taught her she ain’t supposed to have negative feelings.” Molly explained, distaste evident in her voice. Lucifer’s eyes burned with rage.

He took a deep breath to calm himself before he stood and held a hand out to the other fallen seraphim.

"Well kid. There's nothing to apologize for. You’re allowed to express your emotions down here. Hell, I’m guessing the bastard you blasted deserved it.” Emily looked uncertain but took his hand, rejoining the group. She didn’t respond to the concept that Henroin had deserved what he got.

 “He sure fucking did.” Angel agreed.

Molly nodded, before wincing at the motion 

“Yeah. I’m sorry I missed it.” She added

“Molly!” Emily scolded. The spider gave her a sheepish smile.

“Too soon?” She asked. Emily huffed and waved her hand, immediately repairing the wall her had blasted. Niffty raced around cleaning up any remaining debris. Emily walked over and pulled Molly up with surprising strength. She sat her down on the couch and began to try and fuss over her.

Alastor slunk into the shadows  behind Angel and Husk

"You speak Italian," he noted, causing Angel to jump, unaware the overlord had moved.

"Shit, Smiles, don't do that!" Angel exclaimed, startled. Alastor just grinned in response.

"But, uh, yeah. Guess it never really came up," Angel muttered rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly.

"Hmm, well, meeting your father, the overlord Henroin sure was an interesting experience," Alastor remarked casually.

Angel glared at the Radio Demon.

"Listen, Smiles, I don’t know what you think you know, but--"

"Mafioso family?" Alastor interrupted smoothly.

"How the hell did you--" Angel started, shocked.

“Please, Angel, it wasn’t difficult. You forget we lived on Earth at the same time. You’re Italian American, from New York, and your weapon of choice is a Thompson submachine gun. Plus, it would seem your whole family is down here. Or at least,” he gestured towards Molly, “they are now.” Molly looked at Alastor impressed.

Vaggie turned to Angel shock evident on her face. “Wait you were in the Mafia?” Angel huffed annoyed

“And that right there’s why I neva’ talk about it. What? The porn star twink look don't give off ’son of a Mafia Don’ vibes?”  He grumbled

“I didn’t- I mean-“ Vaggie stuttered. Angel shot her a look. She dropped her head and conceded.

“Hey. It’s not like ya looked like one when we was alive anyways ‘Pretty Boy’”
Molly teased. Angel glared at her

“Shut up ‘Baby Doll’” Molly wrinkled her face at the use of her old mob nickname. 

“Well Angel I guess we’ll have to add Mafia to your rehabilitation plan!” Charlie said cheerfully trying to lighten the mood.

“Uh. Sorry ta burst ya bubble highness. But I was in the Mafia too. Clearly that don’t stop ya from getting to heaven” Molly interjected.

“Oh. Well I uh, I mean- but you didn’t do the drug stuff.” Charlie rambled. Molly let out a humorless laugh.

“Oh doll. I most certainly did ‘the drug stuff’ ” 

“But then why is Angel-“ Molly glared at her. She stood and walked until she stood face to face with Charlie

“Molly. Don’t-” Angel started 

“Ya do know being an addict doesn’t make ya a bad person. Right?” Molly’s tone was dangerous. Charlie spluttered. Vaggie was instantly at Charlie’s side, her angelic spear pointed towards the spider

“Back. Off.” she spat.

Molly huffed. She took a step away from the two of them. Vaggie got a smug look on her face, at least until Molly turned her attention to her

“So ya didn’t tell princess nothing bout heaven huh? Or did ya not know? Too busy killing souls down here to pay attention were ya?” Vaggie’s hands shook

“Molly. Enough!” The spider froze. She turned to see Emily standing on the couch glaring at her, her arms crossed. 

“Charlie is trying. I mean she got Sir Pentious up there!” The room went silent, before erupting into questions 

Alastor silenced the chaos by emitting a loud radio frequency from his cane. Everyone flinched at the noise

“Apologies. But what do you mean Sir Pentious ‘got up there’” the Radio Demon inquired.

“The fuck do ya think she means?” Molly asked clearly annoyed.  “The snake boy is a virtuous soul now. He’s an angel.”

“It worked?” Charlie said disbelievingly. Emily nodded. Molly sighed and went to sit next to her girlfriend.

“They didn’t give you my message?” Emily asked confused.

“They didn’t give us shit.” Angel growled. Emily’s eyes flickered red for a moment before turning back to their usual blue 

"So does heaven believe in our cause now?" Charlie asked bouncing with excitement.

Emily looked away

“Well...no. The meeting about it kind of backfired” Emily admitted

“Kind of?” Lucifer asked intrigued at this new revelation

“Yeah. Turns out telling heaven ya got there by ‘sacrificing myself trying to kill the first man with my war machine’ didn’t go down so well.” Molly grumbled. Emily flinched

“Yeah. They really didn’t like me arguing that the hotel still worked after that.” Lucifer’s eyes widened in realization

“Don’t tell me that’s why they-“ Emily nodded. The king’s grip on his cane tightened 

“Why they what?” Niffty demanded

“Why I fell from heaven.” Emily said quietly. Molly wrapped an arm around Emily reassuringly

“But Sir Pentious wasn’t a bad boy!” Niffty protested confused. Molly chuckled

“Ya got that right tiny. Unfortunately not everyone believes that.”

“Then they’re stupid.” Niffty declared before racing off after another bug

“She’s not wrong.” Molly muttered “Heaven and their fucking ‘cure all plans’”

“Molly. Don’t. You know they had too.” Molly huffed

“Oh and where ‘ave we heard that before.” Emily gave her a look.

“Are you two going to fucking explain what you’re talking about or not?” Husk asked taking a sip from a flask. Angel stole the flask from him, earning the spider a glare.

“The hundred year plan!” Emily clarified. She was met with blank stares. She looked at Lucifer confused

“I mean… At least you must know about it.” The king shook his head

“No... I've never heard of any plan regarding Hell with that name.”

“Cause it ain't got nothing ta do with Hell.” Molly remarked.  Emily nodded

“Right it’s about how we help souls in heaven!” None of the hotel residents missed how Molly winced at the word ‘help’

“Ah.” Lucifer acknowledged. “Well that would be why I never heard of it. I was down here before any souls made it to heaven.”

“Oh.” Emily looked embarrassed

“So what does this ‘plan’ do then hm?” Alastor prompted

"After a 100 years in heaven ya get your fucking memory wiped." Molly grumbled bitterly. The room went silent.

“Molly!” Emily chided.

“What?” The spider huffed. “I’m right ain’t I? After a while, everyone ya know is either up there wi'cha, or in hell. So virtuous angels started going stir crazy, and heaven flew off the fucking handle!”

Emily sighed.

“What she means is. There’s only so much you can do with a lifetime of happiness. So, heaven decided the most humane course of action was that after a hundred years they would wipe the minds of the virtuous! So everyone gets a fresh start in a life with no worries.”

Lucifer looked around trying to determine how much damage control would need to be done. The hotel residents seemed to have mixed reactions to this news. Niffty wasn’t paying any attention. Husk was keeping up his poker face, while Angel and Charlie looked horrified.  Strangely enough it was Alastor who seemed the most distraught by the news. It was hard to tell given his eternal smile, but his eyes betrayed his pain. He didn’t look murderous, he looked almost…sad. Lucifer shook those thoughts out of his mind and returned to the present situation.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Vaggie said with a shrug. Molly glared at her intensely

“Yeah. Sure. Until ya own fucking muthah, the only person ya ‘ave up there wakes up one day and has no idea who ya are.”

“Wait. What?” Angel whispered

Notes:

Is the hundred year plan good or bad? debate hehe. Also do u think heaven did it with good intentions? 👀

 

...to anyone who may have seen the accidental release of a future chapters draft NO U DIDNT 😅 AHA

Chapter 8: In the Line of (Hell)Fire

Summary:

*Angel with a Shotgun* plays loudly.

Notes:

CW: a protagonist has a gun. theres a creepy sinner... you can guess the rest

I attempted to research how a Tommy gun works. If I am wrong oopsie (pls lmk lol)

Chapter 8:

 

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Vaggie said with a shrug. Molly glared at her intensely

“Yeah. Sure. Until ya own fucking muthah, the only person ya ‘ave up there wakes up one day and has no idea who ya are.”

“Wait. What?” Angel whispered

 

Molly was about to reply when Angel’s phone blew up with texts.

“Shit thats my boss. Fuck I’m late. Uh. I uh gotta get to work. I’ll see ya later?” He said trying to leave as quickly as possible. Emily turned to him

“We can walk you to work!” She offered

“NO!” Angel yelped quickly looking panicked

“I mean uh. Appreciate the offer toots but uh. My job ain’t your scene ya know?”  Emily looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on her.

“Oh uh. Before I go. Molly. You still remember how to use one a’dees?” Angel asked pulling out one of his Tommy guns. Molly grinned and nodded as he tossed it to her.

“You know it. Bet I’m still a better shot than ya too.” Angel rolled his eyes not having time for a rebuttal as he answered his ringing phone, running out the door.

“Val... yeah! I uh. I’m on my way now” he rambled. Molly could hear someone yelling on the other end.

 

She stared at now closed the door, concern etched on her face.

“His boss sounds like a real Scumbag.” She muttered. Husk scoffed

“That’s putting it lightly.” He grumbled taking a sip from a bottle he grabbed off one of the bar shelves. Molly frowned but decided not to press it as she examined the gun Angel had given her.

Emily approached her looking at the gun as if it might explode at any moment.

“You know how to use a….gun?” Emily asked whispering the last word like it was offensive. Molly sighed

“Doll. I grew up in the mafia. Yes I know how to use a gun.”

 

“Anyways!” Charlie butt in. “Vaggie and I have a date planned but Dad, Alastor, Husk, Nifty, I was thinking you guys could show Molly and Emily around town!” Lucifer and Alastor glared at each other

“Charlie I don’t think-“ Lucifer started

“Please dad? I want you there to make sure they’re safe. Alastor’s more familiar with the politics down here than you are. Besides, you two need to learn to get along.” Molly huffed

“We can take care of ourselves ya know.” Vaggie glared at her

“Well forgive us for giving a shit about your safety.” Molly rolled her eyes at her.

“Cmon! It’ll be fun!” Emily encouraged. Molly sighed in defeat.

 

“Great!” Charlie squealed. She grabbed Vaggie and the two took off, Charlie nearly wrenching the past-exorcist's arm out of her socket.

 

Molly watched Charlie and Vaggie disappear out the door, leaving behind a swirl of conflicting emotions. She felt a pang of unease at the thought of Angel dealing with whatever mess awaited him, yet she was also hesitant about the upcoming tour of the town.

Husk, sensing the tension, broke the silence with a cynical remark. "Well, looks like we're in for some babysitting duty."

Molly shot him a glare before turning her attention back to Emily, who still seemed wary of the gun.

"Don't worry, Em. It's just a tool," Molly said, trying to reassure her. “I aint gonna use it unless I ‘ave to I promise. But knowing how to use it can be the difference between life and death around here."

Emily nodded, her expression a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

As they prepared to leave, Molly slung the Tommy gun over her shoulder, feeling its weight as a reminder of the world she thought she'd left behind.

"Alright, let's get this over with," she muttered, following the others  out of the hotel with Emily trailing close behind.

Outside, the streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the city. Neon signs flickered overhead, casting an eerie glow on the pavement below. Molly couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia mixed with trepidation as she and the hotel residents navigated the familiar yet unfamiliar terrain.

 

Their first stop was a local market, where Molly and Emily were introduced to the colorful array of characters that populated the town. They passed by vendors selling everything from exotic fruits to dubious-looking potions, each one hawking their wares with a mix of curses and haggling.

As they made their way through the market, with Emily clutching tightly to Molly’s hand, Molly couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She glanced over her shoulder, but the crowded streets offered no clues as to who – or what – might be following them.

Niffty, sensing Molly's unease, grabbed her at her leg. "Why do you keep looking around? You look silly.” She informed the spider.

Molly forced a smile. “Im fine, just... old habits you know?"

Alastor chimed in with a low hum of agreement, his eerie presence adding to the tense atmosphere.

 

“Right uh. You two can explore on your own if you want. Just say close?” Lucifer offered. Emily’s eyes lit up.

Husk eyed Molly and Emily with a mix of caution and exasperation. “And please don't do anything stupid." 

Molly rolled her eyes,  "Yeah, yeah, we got it," she muttered, shooting Emily a pleading look.

But Emily's curiosity was already piqued, her eyes darting around the crowded streets with an eager gleam. "C'mon, Molly!” she urged, already moving towards a dimly lit passageway.

Molly groaned inwardly, her instincts screaming at her to keep Emily out of trouble. But she knew arguing would be pointless, so she begrudgingly followed, her steps heavy with reluctance.

They reached the alley, its shadows stretching ominously across the pavement. Emily hesitated for a moment, a thrill of excitement mingling with unease. "Should we...?" she trailed off, looking to Molly for guidance.

Molly's jaw tightened with frustration. "No, we shouldn't," she snapped, her tone sharp with warning. "This ain't no place for us."

But before she could stop her, Emily had already stepped forward, drawn to the promise of adventure like a moth to a flame.

Molly's heart sank as she watched Emily approach a shady-looking sinner lurking in the shadows. He handed her something. She exited the alley, something in a small foil package held in her hands.

“Em?” Molly asked

“It’s candy Molly!” Emily squealed beginning to unwrap it

Molly moved quickly, her instincts kicking into overdrive as she snatched the candy out of Emily's hand and tossed it into a nearby trash can.

“Hey! What was that for?" Emily exclaimed

"Emily, you can't just take candy from strangers," Molly scolded, her voice tight with worry. "You never know what they might do." Emily looked down in shame.

Molly's gaze softened, her frustration giving way to a sense of protectiveness. "You gotta be more careful, Em," she muttered, her voice laced with worry. "This place ain't like home. You gotta watch your back."

Emily nodded, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized the danger she had unknowingly put herself in.

“I’m sorry.”  she mumbled. Molly sighed and led her out of the alley, pressing a kiss to the seraphim’s forehead

“I know you want to trust people doll. But ya can’t. Not down here. Okay?” Molly tried to explain. Emily hesitated before nodding.

 

Momentarily distracted, Molly didn’t immediately notice as a shadowy figure emerged from the crowd, his eyes fixed on Emily. His steps were unsteady, his body one of a humanoid rat, and his intentions seemed anything but innocent.

Molly's protective instincts surged as she noticed the rat man closing in on Emily, his hands reaching out toward her. She immediately stepped between them, her voice ringing out with authority.

"Back off," she yelled, her voice sharp and commanding, her eyes flashing in warning.

But the man, fueled by alcohol and aggression, paid no heed to Molly's warning. With a drunken grin, he lunged forward and grabbed Emily's arm, his grip tight and possessive.

“Pretty birdie” he slurred grinning maniacally he reached out his other hand to pull on one of Emily’s feathers. He wrapped his arm around her chest clutching her towards him

"Let go of me!" Emily cried out, panic rising in her voice as she struggled against his grasp, her heart pounding in her chest.

Molly's blood boiled with anger and fear as she watched the scene unfold. With every ounce of strength she had, she used all four arms to fight against the rat humanoid, trying to pry him away from Emily.

"Get your hands off her!" Molly's voice was fierce, and full of frustration.

The sinner’s grip tightened, his intentions becoming increasingly clear. He leered at Emily, his gaze predatory as he attempted to pull her closer.

Emily's heart raced with terror as she fought against him, her mind reeling with fear and confusion. She glanced desperately at Molly, silently pleading for help.

Molly's protective instincts shifted into overdrive.

With a surge of adrenaline and desperation, Molly made a split-second decision. Her hand reached for the Tommy gun slung over her shoulder, her fingers wrapping around the cool metal of the weapon. In one swift motion, she pulled it from its holster and aimed it at the rat.

"Let her go, now!" Molly's voice boomed, her eyes blazing with determination as she stared down the assailant, the weight of the Tommy gun steady in her hands.

But the man, fueled by alcohol and bravado, only sneered in response. He tightened his grip on Emily, his intentions unmistakably sinister. 

“No. My birdie.”

Emily's panic skyrocketed as she felt the man's hold on her, her chest tightening with fear. She struggled to break free, her breaths coming in short gasps as she fought against the overwhelming terror.

Molly's heart pounded in her chest as she realized the gravity of the situation. She had no other choice, she had to protect Emily.

Her finger hovered over the trigger, her gaze unwavering as she locked onto her the rat. The chaos of the crowded street faded into the background as she focused solely on the threat before her.

In one fluid motion, she squeezed the trigger, unleashing a torrent of bullets from the Tommy gun. The deafening roar of gunfire filled the air, drowning out all other sound as the weapon spat out its deadly payload.

Molly remained steady, her stance solid as she controlled the recoil of the gun. The muzzle flashed with each shot, the bright bursts of light illuminating the scene in stark contrast to the shadows of the alleyway.

With each bullet, she aimed for the man's legs, intending to disable rather than kill. The air filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder as the rounds found their mark, striking the assailant and sending him reeling backward.

The man cried out in pain as the bullets tore through his flesh, his grip on Emily loosening with each impact. She ran as soon as she was released. Several rounds hit his chest as he fell. At last, he collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, before going still as the gunfire ceased. He was (double) dead.

Molly lowered the smoking gun, her chest heaving with exertion. She surveyed the scene with a mixture of relief and apprehension, her senses still on high alert for any further threats.

Emily stood nearby, frozen in shock as she processed the violence that had just unfolded before her.

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. The world seemed to spin as her breath caught in her throat, panic seizing her in its suffocating grip.

Molly's heart sank as she watched Emily's distress, her own hands trembling with adrenaline and guilt. She dropped the gun and rushed to Emily's side, her voice soft and reassuring as she tried to calm her trembling girlfriend.

"Emily, it's okay. You're safe now," Molly murmured, her arms wrapping around Emily in a comforting embrace.

But Emily was already spiraling her breaths coming in ragged gasps as tears streamed down her cheeks. The weight of the traumatic ordeal crashed down on her, overwhelming her senses in a whirlwind of fear and confusion.

“What did you do? You shot him Molly!”  She yelled shoving the spider away from her

 

“Em… I-”

 

Lucifer appeared out of a portal followed by Alastor (with Niffty on his shoulder) and Husk.

“We heard gunfire. Are you okay?” Emily began to sob.

“Molly… she… she…” Molly couldn’t look at her girlfriend. Both ashamed of what she had done, and frustrated and Emily’s lack of understanding. Husk noted the firearm at Molly’s side and the dead sinner behind her. He caught Molly’s eyes.

“Some fucker tried to hurt her?” He asked gesturing at Emily. Molly nodded

Lucifer was quick to try and comfort Emily, his expression full of pained understanding. 

“It's okay, Emily. Hell can be overwhelming, especially for someone who's never been here before. Why don’t I take you to my palace for a bit huh? It’s much less… chaotic there. I think we can discuss some stuff there. Fallen Seraphim to fallen seraphim. That sound okay?” Emily hesitated looking at Molly who nodded

“Go ahead Em. I’ll see you later?” Emily sniffed and grabbed Lucifer’s hand, following the king through a different portal.

——

“Shit.” Molly hissed burying her face in her hands

“Was he a bad boy?” Niffty asked. Molly let out a choked laugh

“Yeah. He sure was.” she agreed.

“I like bad boys!” Niffty informed her. Molly smiled despite herself.

“Good to know Niff.”

Notes:

Should Molly have shot him?

Chapter 9: Bad Bug Man

Summary:

Someone from Molly’s past makes an appearance. He learns quickly how the Hazbin Hotel feels about bugs

Given that there are longer sections of Italian in this chapter, those have the translations under the paragraphs in brackets. Short words or phrases will be in authors notes as usual. if u prefer for me to do one or other for future pls lmk in comments <3

Notes:

Please be advised that this chapter contains sensitive content that may be triggering for some readers. Equivalent to Episode 4 of Hazbin

CW:
* Abusive relationship
* Non-consensual physical contact
* Sexual assault (implied and attempted) but NON GRAPHIC
* Emotional manipulation
* PTSD symptoms
* Panic attack
* Disassociation
* Canon-Typical Violence

"Well." Alastor stated “I for one feel that we have successfully completed this outing and should return back to the hotel. Any objections?”  Husk shook his head, his eyes still trained on Molly while Niffty grinned and climbed onto Alastor’s shoulder. Molly stood silently, slinging the gun back over her shoulder, and followed them. Husk kept his eye on her as they walked. He had only known Molly for a few days, but she was never the silent type. Niffty kept attempting to engage her in random sporadic conversations, to which Molly would give her a few word answer. At last they arrived at hotel.

 

Molly quickly took her leave and went to her room closing the door behind her. She sat down on her bed and buried her face in her hands, her thoughts racing. Had she ruined everything? Did Emily hate her now? A metallic clunk  startled her out of her thoughts.

Her head shot up and she caught a three fingered claw quickly retract away from the now dead bolted door. Dread filled her gut.

She reached for her gun. A sound made her freeze. A laugh. was a harsh, grating sound that seemed to scrape against the very air itself

It was his laugh—

She felt a claw on her shoulder. It grabbed her roughly. She turned until she faced… him

“Ciao amore mio" her husband cooed, his three fingered claw moving to stroke her face. He was a cockroach humanoid. Fitting, she noted. He was nine feet tall, with six arms and large, protruding eyes framed by twitching antennae. He towered over her. 

Molly stood and stumbled back raising her Tommy gun.

“Get away from me Enzo.” She tried to demand, her voice shaky

Instead, Lorenzo walked towards her.

“Put the gun down Bambolina” he ordered

Molly’s hands trembled as her fingers moved towards the trigger.   

“Don’t make me repeat myself amore mio.” He stopped directly in front of Molly  “I said: Put. The gun. Down.”

Mollys hands shook harder. She staggered backwards as her husband moved to stand in front of the barrel of the gun, his expression more so of annoyance than anything else.

“G-get away from me!” Molly stammered. “I’ll do it! I’ll pull the trigger- I’ll kill ya-“

Lorenzo laughed again.

He reached out, but instead of taking the gun out of Molly’s hands, he held her arms steady, and pointed the tip of the firearm towards his heart.

“Nah. You won’t.”

His voice echoed through Molly ears with a calmness that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Ya ain't got it in you darlin’. he ran one of his claws through her hair. she shuddered at his touch

Molly’s shaking hands dropped the gun. Lorenzo smiled at her sinisterly

“Buona Bambolina” he drawled. One of his lower arms began to brush the edge of Molly’s dress. She started to scream but was silenced by a sharp slap. She gasped, her cheek burning

“Scream. And i’ll kill anyone in this hotel who comes runnin’. Ya don’t want to be responsible for the deaths of your amici do you?” Molly bit back a sob. She shook her head. Lorenzo smiled. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing rows of sharp, insectoid teeth that glistened faintly under the dim light.

He gripped the back of her head tightly as he leaned forward and kissed her. She wanted to pull away, it felt so wrong. She wanted Emily. Emily’s kisses were soft, gentle, sweet. Lorenzo’s kiss wasn't tender or affectionate; it was a possession, a claim of power. She could taste the faint bitterness of tobacco and feel the roughness of his breath. In that moment, she was suddenly back there—she was once again a scared newlywed, just 18 years old, married to a man almost twice her age.

Molly closed her eyes tight as she felt Lorenzo lower her body onto her bed. She let herself go limp

It will hurt less. she reminded herself.

 

She let her mind drift off to happier times, until she could feel nothing. She pictured herself riding the subway with Tony and Nico to Coney Island, drinking Coca Cola and eating red hots, laughing and chasing each other through the waves.

 

An intense flash of neon green light pierced through her eyelids, she opened one eye to peek and was semi aware of Lorenzo being thrown into the air by large black tentacles. She felt a claw grab her arm and screamed

“Fuck. Shit. No kid it’s me.” a gruff voice grunted. Molly flinched

“Starò bene, ti prego, smettila di farmi del male” she begged 

[I’ll be good, please just stop hurting me]

She felt the claw retreat. She could hear vague voices

“Boss…”

"the Radio Demon!"

"...outta here”

“….Bad man!”

but nothing felt real. She was suffocating, she knew that. Her lungs—

---

Husk fought back his rage as he gestured for Molly to sit against the parlor wall. She was staring vacantly in front of her, obeying him with no resistance. Her breathing was still erratic. Husk clenched his paws. He wanted that bastard dead.

With his advanced hearing, he had heard something strange happening in Molly’s room. It was when he heard an abruptly cut off scream that he decided they needed to intervene.

Husk knew that, as much of a bastard as Alastor was, he hated abusers, especially abusive men. Husk had barely begun to describe what he had heard when Alastor’s eyes turned into radio dials, and he had grabbed Husk, pulling him into the shadows. They emerged in Molly’s room, with Alastor quickly conjuring Niffty beside him.

The scene that awaited them would haunt Husk for days. The cockroach fucker hadn’t managed to do anything sexual yet, but the carnal look in his eyes and lack of clothing on his segmented body was answer enough. Molly had been laying on her bed completely limp, her eyes squeezed tightly, with tear tracks streaming down her face. Alastor wasted no time in ripping that monster’s limbs off. Niffty had joined him, stabbing the bastard with her knife screaming the he was a “Bad Man!” And “Bad bug!”

Husk had been the one to approach Molly.

He was never more grateful to be polylingual than he was when he realized Molly had reverted back to her mother tongue. He had managed to convince Al to get them out of there, so now here they were. On the floor of the parlor with Molly curled into an impossibly tight ball trying to make as little noise as possible, her breathing erratic.

“Siamo al sicuro, ragazzo. E' Husk. Non lascerò che quello stronzo ti tocchi di nuovo,” Husk said firmly, attempting to comfort her.

["You're safe, kid. It's Husk. I won't let that fucker touch you again]

She opened her eyes and looked up at him

""Prometti?" she asked softly her voice hoarse.

Husk's old dead heart broke. Despite being dead for much longer than him, Molly seemed so...young. He nodded

"Lo prometto."

She nodded and tried to take in a slower breath but whimpered as her chest ached. Her breathing quickened again as she began to panic from the pain. She was dying she knew she had to be dying-

Husk cursed under his breath. 

Niffty popped up next to him

“Alastor says Bad Mans gone.” She announced.

“Thanks Niff.” He grunted nodding at her

Niffty looked at Molly her eye wide with concern “Can I help?” she asked Husk hesitated before an idea came to him

“Yeah. You know Angel’s pig?”

“Nuggie?” Niffty asked. Husk nodded

“Can you get him for me?” Niffty tilted her head confused

“Why? Angel says we’re not allowed to eat him.” Husk rubbed his temples trying to think of a way to explain an emotional support animal to Niffty.

“Nah. I uh. I think Molly might want to play with him.”

“Oh. Okay!” Niffty chirped and took off towards the stairs.

 

Husk turned and caught Molly looking around frantically as if she was unsure where she was  

“Siamo nel salotto dell'hotel. Siamo solo tu, io e Niffty. Puoi provare a rallentare il respiro per me?” He asked

[We're in the hotel's parlor. It's just you, me and Niffty. Can you try to slow down your breathing for me?]

 

Molly tried but quickly shook her head “non posso” she gasped. She felt dizzy 

Husk reached towards her but stopped as she recoiled.

“M-Mi dispiace. Non intendevo troppo!” she began to ramble breathlessly as she stared at Husk terrified.

["i-I'm sorry. I didn't mean too-“]

 

Husk held up his paws in a placating gesture

“Va bene. Non sono arrabbiato. Non ti toccherò.” He reassured

[It's okay. I'm not angry. I won't touch you.]

 

Niffty reappeared her small body barely visible as she carried the demonic pig. She placed him down and the pig sniffed the air before nudging Molly's leg determinedly. The spider hesitated before lowering her leg and letting him climb into her lap. He nuzzled her as she pet him, her breathing slowing.

Husk chose to go to the bar and at least pretend to return to his duties while Molly recovered. After a while she gently took the pig off her lap and wiped her face

“You back with us kid?” Husk asked

Molly stared at the ground. “Uh. Yeah. Sorry about-“

“Don’t start with that bullshit. Ya aint got nothin’ to be sorry for ya hear me? Hell Alastor had quite a lotta fun ripping that fucker to bits. Probably gave him enough 'entertainment' for a few weeks." Molly managed a tentative smile as she moved to sit at one of the bar stools. 

“Thank you.” She whispered. Husk hummed in affirmation and placed a red drink in front of her. She raised an eyebrow at him

“It ain’t liquor. Shirley temple. Need to rehydrate yourself.” Molly chuckled

“Ya really are a softie huh?” she said as she took a sip of the sweet liquid. Husk grumbled something. Niffty popped up next to Molly

“Who was the bad man?” She asked

Molly stiffened.

“Niff-“ Husk tried but Molly interrupted him

“Niftty. Promise me you wont go after him. He ain’t a man ya wanna be with” Niffty frowned at her

“Why would I want him?”

“I thought you liked bad boys?” Molly stated confused she took another sip of her  drink. She realized that the headache she hadnt even noticed, was lessening 

“I do. I like bad boys. I don’t like bad men.”

“Theres a difference?” Husk asked raising an eyebrow. Niffty nodded determined

“Bad boys are troublemakers who do fun stuff, like breaking rules and playing pranks. They're fun and keep things interesting. But bad men? They're not fun at all. They're mean and bossy. They might seem nice at first, but then they start playing mean tricks and making you feel bad. So, bad boys are fun for a little while, but bad men are just plain bad.” 

“Ya know. That’s real insightful tiny.” Molly acknowledged realizing it was the longest she had heard the cyclops speak. Niffty beamed at her

“So who was he? He must have been a bad man because he was a roach. Roaches are bad.” She declared

Molly sighed.

“That was Lorenzo. My… husband.”

 

Notes:

Translations:
Bambolina = baby doll
amore mio= my love
Buona = good
amici = friend
Prometti = promise?
Lo prometto = I promise
non posso = I can't
------
“What are you using your Psychology and English degree for MK?”

 

“Oh you know. Traumatizing a fictional spider on the internet.”

 

(this is also loosely based on my own experiences with panic attacks/ CPTSD)

anyways. please take ur meds, drink water, eat something if u haven't and get some sleep <3

Chapter 10: Birthday Dresses

Summary:

Gun Moll: the female companion of a male professional criminal.

Notes:

Brain went brrrr so y'all get this short flashback chapter early. Also; "Nico" is Arackniss
"Enrico" is Henroin

 

**New Note: hey since I did this one early, I might have to skip chapter for this week. I’m fucking exhausted tbh lol. sorry

~ ~ ~ ~ Flashback ~ ~ ~ ~

April 1, 1930 - Age 18

Molly tiptoed into her brother’s room trying to keep her pumps from clicking as little as possible. She snuck up behind the taller blonde who was straightening his tie and covered his eyes with her hands

“Guess who?” Molly singsonged. Her brother chuckled and hummed

“Greta Garbo?” He asked before turning around “Ah shit. Nope it's still you.” He said with a smirk. Molly rolled her eyes

“Keep talking’ like that and I ain’t gonna give you ya present.” Tony raised an eyebrow

“I thought we was openin’ gifts downstairs?” Molly shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips. She quickly walked towards the door and closed it

“Not this gift. Here.” She picked up the box she’d placed down in the corner. She sat on her brother’s bed and gestured for him to join her. He sat down and watched her perplexed

“Open it dummy!” She chided. Tony did so starting with the card inside. 

“One night only…” he muttered reading it “the Savoy Ballroom drag ball…” a speakeasy membership card fluttered out. he turned and stared at his sister as he grabbed it.

“You fuckin didn’t.” Molly grinned. Tony quickly ripped off the remaining paper to stare at the dress and shoes in front of him. It was a black sleeveless dress with a dropped waist and a straight skirt. There were a pair of t strap shoes underneath. But unlike the dresses and shoes of Molly’s he had tried on, these were his

“How did you…”  he murmured as he traced the sequins on the fabric

“I know people.” Molly said simply looking very proud of herself.  She grabbed his hand and forced him to look at her.

“So. Here’s the deal. After dinner, you and me is headin’ down to Harlem. It’s three trains but I got nickels for both of us. They is having one of them balls tonight. Figured we deserved some fun away from all,” she gestured around “this.” Her brother nodded his jaw still on the floor

“Thank you.” He whispered. Molly giggled and kissed his cheek

“Buon compleanno Tony. Oh should I say… Annie?” Her brother laughed

 

“Molly? Tony? Is youse comin’ down or what?” Nico’s voice shouted

“Hold ya horses we’re comin’” Tony shouted back. He quickly boxed back up the dress and looked around for somewhere to hide it. Molly took it from him

“I’ve got it.” She whispered. Her brother nodded gratefully. The twins soon made their way down to the kitchen. Molly froze when she saw what was sitting besides the table

“Thats... mama’s wedding trunk.” Tony said as he stared at the rose painted box.

“Good. Your eyes work. Come sit. i ordered sfogliatelle and cannoli. Buon compleanno.” their father ordered. He sat straight at the head of the table, his dark imposing eyes boring into them. Molly and Nico obeyed moving quickly to their seats. Tony kept staring at the trunk

“Why is ma’s wedding trunk down here?” He demanded turning to his father. “You better not be gettin’ rid of it.” Their father’s gaze sharpened

“You watch your tone boy.”

“Tony. C’mon.” Nico muttered tilting his head towards his brother’s seat. The younger brother huffed and took his seat. Breakfast continued in silence. Molly could feel the anxiety bubbling up inside her. Had he? At last their father wiped his mouth and cleared his throat.

"Well. Today's your eighteenth birthday, hm?" The twins nodded.

Enrico hummed and gestured vaguely towards Tony

“You. I want ya in more on this thing of ours. I’ve been hearin’ things about France and some new... merchandise. You work hard boy and I’ll letcha keep a piece of the action.” Tony nodded

“Si signore. Grazie.” He replied automatically. Enrico turned to Molly. It was weird to have her father’s gaze solely on her. His distain for having a daughter was not, and never had been, a secret.

“And Molly. My sweet Bambolina.” Her father crooned. “I think it’s time you live up to your name hm?” 

“Signore?” Molly asked, barely audibly

“Time to become a gun moll, mio caro, Molly.” Her father said with dark a laugh. Molly fought back a wince.

“Oh.” She managed, forcing a smile

“May I ask who my marito is going to be?” She asked sweetly. Her father nodded approvingly.

“Lorenzo Scavo. The ceremony has been arranged for Wednesday the 16th. Your mother’s wedding dress should fit no?” Molly felt her blood run cold. She kept her smile up as she nodded.

“What?” Tony hissed standing up

"Tones don't-" Nico tried

“You’re marrying her off to the man the fuckin’ papers call ‘crazy eyes?’ Ain’t he twice our age?” Their father stared at him unimpressed.

“He is not twice your age. He is 31. And a connection with the Scavo family will make us much stronger.”

“Oh and that makes it okay- ya know what!”

“Tony stop!” Molly shouted and then froze realizing she had raised her voice in front of her father. She turned to him quickly. 

“Scusa papà. Thank you, for taking the time to find me a husband. May I take the trunk to my room to try the dress on?” Her father nodded and gestured for her to take her leave.

“Tony, un piccolo aiuto?” She asked giving her twin a pointed look. He nodded and grabbed the heavy trunk following her to her room

---

“That fuckin’ bastard. How can he just-” he growled pacing the floor

“Tony. It’s gonna be fine.” Molly tried to reassure him

“How can ya be so calm about this?” He asked looked at her frustration evident on his face. Molly shrugged

“I knew it would happen eventually. He’s right. I’m a gun moll. It’s all I evah get to be.” 
“You don’t believe that do ya?” Her brother asked his eyes looking hurt. Molly shrugged

“Eh. It’s not so bad. Least I get to stay livin’ round here! Sorry I cut ya off down there. Figured we’d better keep up our best behavior if we wanted to get outta here tonight.”

“Molly are you sure ya-"

“Am I sure I wanna go get pickled after findin’ out I’m gettin’ married in two weeks? Fuck yes.”

 

 

Notes:

Translations:
Buon compleanno = happy birthday
signore = sir
Grazie = thank you
mio caro = my dear
marito = husband
Scusa papà = sorry papà
un piccolo aiuto = a little help
-----------------------------

hehehehe FLUFF!
AND THEN ANGST

Savoy Ballroom did exist and hold drag balls during prohibition btw!

The "merchandise with the french" Enrico references is heroin. The "french connection" was the US's heroin network in the 1930s

I've never seen any of the sopranos or any godfather movies lol

Chapter 11: Bitching to the Bartender

Summary:

People talk at the bar.

Notes:

CW:

Niffty being Niffty

Angel has no self care/ self preservation skills = slight mention of disordered eating; non explicit and not regarding body image

non graphic descriptions of angel’s appearance after a bad day with Val.

Niffty beamed at her.

“So who was he? He must have been a bad man because he was a roach. Roaches are bad,” she declared.

Molly sighed.

“That was Lorenzo. My… husband.”

The cyclops nodded in understanding.

“My husband was a bad man too. But Mr. Alastor got rid of him for me! He’s a bad boy.” Molly blinked at her.

“You were married?” Niffty nodded.

“Yup. He was really mean. He hit me and called me stupid a lot.” Husk grunted.

“The guy was a dick.”

“And his was small,” Niffty chimed in. Molly let out a genuine laugh, nearly inhaling her drink.

“Hey uh, how old were you when you died?” Husk asked, turning to Molly. The spider gave him a judgmental look.

“Damn kitty cat, buy me a drink first,” she said sarcastically.

Husk glared at her before gesturing to the drink in front of her.

“Pretty sure I just did.” Molly was silent for a moment before shrugging in agreement. Husk grabbed a bottle from the bar and began to drink.

“If ya must know, I was 25.” Husk, who had been mid-swig, abruptly choked on his drink. He coughed and sputtered, shocked by this revelation.

"Shit… you were practically a child,” he muttered, his typically gruff voice just a touch softer. Molly jumped up off the stool and glared daggers at the cat, using her upper arm not holding the drink she pointed accusingly towards his chest.

“I’m not a child.” she hissed. Husk raised his paws and backed away realizing he had touched a nerve.

“Okay okay. Jesus. Fuck, didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant… you died young.”

Molly let out a broken laugh. “If you say so.” she muttered retaking her seat. Niffty hopped up onto the bar top.

“I died at 22! My husband killed me,” she said bluntly. Molly’s eyes went wide as she nodded at the cyclops in acknowledgment.

“Wow, uh—”

“Did your husband kill you?” Molly hesitated.

“Not... exactly.” Niffty tilted her head.

“I don’t under—”

“Niff. Why don’t you go help Alastor. I’m sure Molly’s room will need cleanin’” Husk interrupted.

“Oh yes! I forgot!” She chirped and took off back up the stairs.

“Thanks” Molly muttered. Husk nodded.

“She means well, but she can be… a lot.” Molly hummed in agreement.

“You closin’ up soon?” She asked as she looked around, realizing it was nearly evening. Husk shook his head.

“Nah. I stay open till Angel gets home.” Molly smirked at him. Husk shot her a confused look.

“The fuck you smilin’ for?” Molly shrugged.

“Nothin’.” He went back to organizing bottles.

“Hey uh, Husk?”

“Hmm?”

“Think ya could do me a favor?” He turned and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Gonna depend on what that is, kid.”

“Please don’t… don't tell...Angel about what happened here earlier.”

“You don’t want me telling him about Loren—”

“No. I don’t.” Molly said, cutting him off. Husk looked at her, concerned.

“Listen, I’ll tell him… at some point. Just… not now… okay?” She promised. The bartender nodded.

“You got it, kid.”

It was then that Alastor called them all for jambalaya. After dinner, Molly hesitated before walking back to the bar where the cat had returned to cleaning glasses.

“Care if I stay?” Husk grunted.

“Ain't gonna bother me. Boss’ got me stuck here either way.” Molly took a seat.

“Ya know? Neva woulda pictured princess for being a hardass boss.” Husk let out a genuine laugh. Molly watched him, confused.

“Shit, I forget you're new here, kid. Nah. Charlie’s a sweetheart. I uh... I work for Alastor.” Molly stared at him.

“You’re tellin’ me ya work for the Radio Redhead?”

Husk sighed. “Yup. Made a stupid fuckin’ deal a long time ago. Now I’m at his beck and call.”

“Heh. That must suck.” The cat gave her a genuine smile.

“Eh, I mean… it's not the worst soul contract down here. But yeah. I made a bad decision.”

“Say uh, speaking of bad decisions... How long have you been datin’ my brotha?” Husk almost dropped the glass he was been cleaning. He managed to catch it and set it down on the counter before restoring his grumpy guise.

“Why the fuck would you think we're dating?” he asked.

Molly snorted. "Real funny. Stop fuckin’ with me." Husk glowered at her.

"I’m not. Dating. Angel." She could hear a tang of bitterness and regret in his tone.

Molly was genuinely taken aback for a moment. "Shit, you're serious? You two aren't..."

Husk met her eyes for half a second before quickly turning away.

"Okay... Do you want to?"

Husk growled. "Stay the fuck out of my business," he spat and walked down to the other end of the bar.

That was answer enough for Molly who slid down the stools until she sat face to face with Husk. “Well then. Fix. That.” she said.

Husk reeled back and glared at her. “You threatenin’ me?” Molly shrugged with a sly smile. “Don't hafta be.” The cat groaned and buried his head in his hands, making the spider laugh.

—— Several hours later ——

Angel limped into the parlor. Molly stared at him, horrified by what she saw. His face was battered, he was bent forward in pain, with his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. There were bruises everywhere. She wanted to be sick when she saw the small trail of blood running down his leg. But she kept silent. She knew her brother. Confronting him now was a bad idea.

The bartender quickly exited his post and made his way over to help him. Angel glared at him.

“I'm fine!” he hissed. And then nearly fell over. The cat caught him.

“Uh huh sure. And I’m sober. C’mon legs. Let me help you, or no drinks.” Angel huffed but allowed Husk to walk him to the couch. It was only then that Angel noticed Molly. He went pale.

"Uh, the fuck are you doing up so late?" he asked, attempting to put on his bravado.

Molly shrugged. “Makin’ a friend. And I wanted to stay up to see you. That a problem?” She asked raising an eyebrow. She was used to seeing right through her brother's bullshit personas.

Angel wanted to yell that "yes, that was a problem.” But he didn’t have the energy. He just shrugged. Husk grumbled and grabbed a first aid kit from the bar.

“So, uh, ya gonna ask me what happened?” He asked Molly, a slight edge to his tone.

Molly looked him up and down.

“Nope,” she said bluntly. Angel looked up at her confused.

“Huh?”

“Well, depends. Ya gonna bite my fuckin’ head off if I try?” She asked him, her brother glared at her.

“Fuck you,” he muttered.

“Mhmmm” Molly hummed shooting him a knowing look. Angel grabbed the first aid kit from Husk’s hands, stopping him before he could open it.

“I can fuckin’ do it. I’m not some stupid damsel.” He hissed. Husk rolled his eyes and returned to the bar “what can I make you?” He asked the spider.

“Don’t care. Alcohol.” Angel grunted annoyed as he rumbled through the first aid kit

“That bad huh?” Husk questioned. Angel cursed as he disinfected what Molly suspected was a rope burn on his wrist

"Yeah. cause I was late he made me work from the minute I got there until about 20 minutes ago,” he said bitterly.

“He didn’t give you any breaks?” Molly asked, concerned. Angel huffed out a laugh.

“I mean, he let me stop to piss. Does that count?” Molly was stunned silent.

“Wait. Angel, did you eat?” Husk inquired. Angel shrugged.

“Nah. Happens,” he stated as if this was normal behavior. Molly glared at him.

“Per l'amor del cielo!” she cursed as she stormed off towards the kitchen.

Angel reached for his drink, but Husk was faster. He pulled the glass away.

“Hey!”

“Nope. Not until you've eaten something,” Husk insisted. Angel rolled his eyes.

“Fuck off, I’ve been doing this for years.” Husk gave him an unimpressed look.

“Kid, if I knew you'd been drinking on an empty stomach every night…”

“Just shut it, okay?” Angel growled.

Molly appeared a few minutes later, having made a bowl of boxed mac and cheese. She placed it in front of her brother, crossing her arms.

“Eat,” she said firmly.

“Molly, I’m not hungry. Plus, this shit? It's terrible. Nothing like homemade—”

“Didn’t fucking ask,” Molly cut in. “Mangiare ora,” she demanded, leaving no room for argument. Angel groaned, looking at Husk, who had gone back to cleaning glasses, hoping for possible support.

“Ascolta tua sorella,” the cat stated, agreeing with Molly.

Angel was so tired he didn't immediately notice that Husk had spoken Italian. He ate the mac and cheese begrudgingly, realizing that having something in his stomach did in fact make him feel better. The realization came to him.

“Wait. You know Italian?” Angel asked Husk in shock. Husk continued cleaning glasses, letting out a hum of agreement.

Angel was about to ask more when the door swung open to reveal Vaggie and a slightly tipsy Charlie!

“Omigosh hi!” Charlie squealed a little too loudly. Vaggie mouthed an "I’m sorry" behind her girlfriend's back as she attempted to lead Charlie away. Molly called out to her before they could get too far.

“Hey, uh, Princess. You heard from Em?” Molly asked, realizing she hadn’t heard anything from Lucifer or Emily.

“Ummmmm…” Charlie looked up as if trying to remember.

“Yes,” Vaggie answered. “We did. She’s spending the night at the palace.”

“A sleepover?” Charlie squealed.

Vaggie sighed. “Yup. Just like the one you and I are going to have right now. Bedtime, Charlie.” The exorcist picked up her giggling girlfriend and carried her out of the room. Molly stayed quiet.

“Kid?” Husk asked, startling Molly.

“I’m heading to bed. Tired. It's been a long day. Uh, have a good night, you two,” she rambled nervously as she quickly got up to leave, beginning to catastrophize.

Emily hated her. That had to be why she was staying at the palace. She didn’t want to see her. She was going to dump her.

By the time she reached her door, her breathing had quickened, tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t bring herself to open it. She could suddenly hear his voice again, and panic began to set in. Hesitantly, she turned towards Emily’s room. Moving forward, she tried the doorknob. It turned easily; the door was unlocked. Without giving herself a chance to reconsider, she pushed it open.

The room looked exactly like hers: just a simple hotel room. But it felt safe. She walked over and laid down on the bed, burying her face in the pillows. It smelled like Emily. She felt herself start to calm down.

The exhaustion of the day seemed to catch up with her all at once. She began to silently cry as she wrapped the blankets around herself.

“Please forgive me,” she whispered aloud before drifting off to what she vainly hoped would be a peaceful sleep.

Notes:

Happy gay month! YOU GET MORE ANGST <3 (I swear next chapter will have more fluff lol)
------

Translations:
Per l'amor del cielo: for fuck’s sake/for God’s sake)

Mangiare ora: eat now

Ascolta tua sorella,: listen to your sister
--------

I bet none of yall can guess how Molly dieddddd (Grace ikyk so silenzio!)

Chapter 12: What Exactly is the Function of a Rubber Duck?

Summary:

Lucifer helps Emily navigate her turbulent feelings towards both Heaven and Hell.

Molly and Emily have a chat

Notes:

SORRY! my "nap" yesterday turned into a full nights sleep lol. HERE IS CHAPTER

 

No new content warnings but;

Violence: The chapter discusses a violent incident where a character kills someone in defense of another.

Grief and Emotional Distress: Characters experience emotional distress and grief due to traumatic events.

Mentions of Death: The chapter includes discussions about death and killing.

Mental Health: There are references to mental health issues and coping mechanisms.

— The Morningstar Palace, a few hours after the Tommy Gun Incident —

Emily sat at the palace dining table, staring silently into her mug of tea. Lucifer sat nearby, chewing nervously on his lip as he watched her.

At last, Emily spoke. "I don't miss heaven as much as I thought I would... does that make me a bad person?"

The king blinked, caught off guard by the question. "No… I don’t think so. I mean, what do you think makes a person good or bad?"

Emily thought for a moment. "I think a good person does what is right."

Lucifer hummed in acknowledgment. "Do you think what you did in heaven was right?"

"You mean arguing for Sir Pentious?" He nodded.

"Yes," Emily said with more conviction. "Sir Pentious earned redemption. And Charlie is right—sinners can be redeemed!"

"I agree. But did heaven think that was the case?" he asked. Emily shook her head sadly.

Lucifer sighed. "You know, kid, I learned long ago that what heaven considers the 'good' thing to do isn't always the 'right' thing. Hell, I thought giving humans free will was the right choice. Having them as unthinking drones didn’t feel right... but, well, you know how that ended."

Emily’s eyes took on a vacant look as if she too was recalling her fall from heaven. The king took her hand.

"I fell because I was tired of doing the 'good' thing. I decided no matter what, that I was going to make my own decisions and try to do the 'right' thing instead."

"Shouldn't those be the same thing?" Emily asked, her brow furrowed.

"Much more in theory than in practice," Lucifer replied with a wry smile. "The 'good' thing often aligns with rules and expectations, but the 'right' thing... that's about integrity and conscience, even if it means breaking the mold."

Emily nodded, then her face darkened with worry. “But, I saw Molly shoot that man. She killed him. I know he was a threat, but... does that make her a bad person?"

Lucifer considered this, his expression thoughtful. "Emily, sometimes in Hell, just like on Earth, there are situations where the lines between good and bad blur. Molly acted out of love and a need to protect you. Her actions, though violent, were driven by the right intentions. It's not about the act itself, but the reason behind it."

"But she killed him," Emily whispered, tears welling up again.

"She did," Lucifer agreed gently. "But that doesn't define her entire person. It was a terrible situation with a terrible outcome, but it doesn’t make Molly a bad person. She did what she thought was necessary to keep you safe. That's a form of love, even if it's hard to understand."

“I could have protected myself, she didn’t need to shoot him!” Emily interjected.

Lucifer looked her in the eyes. “You could have. But were you going to?”

“I-“ Emily began to stammer before looking down and shaking her head. “No,” she conceded.

The king hummed in understanding. “Tell me this, do you think Molly would have shot that man if he wasn’t hurting you?”

Emily shook her head. “No.”

“Do you think she was trying to kill him when she shot him?” 

Emily looked at Lucifer, confused.

“What do you mean? She shot him.”

Lucifer gave her a patient smile. “There are certain places that are really bad for sinners to be shot. Was Molly pointing the gun at his head, his chest, or his stomach?”

Emily thought for a moment. “No. I think she was aiming for his legs.”

“She wasn’t trying to kill him then. She just wanted to startle him into letting you go,” he explained.

“Oh,” Emily said as she took that information in. She looked down at her mug, her fingers trembling. "I just... I don't know how to feel about it.”

"And thats okay." Lucifer said softly, "It's a lot to process. Take your time. You're safe in the palace. No one will bother you here. And remember, you're not alone. You have Molly, and you have us to help you through this."

Emily nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Thank you."

"Anytime, kiddo," he replied with a gentle smile. "Anytime."

After a moment of silence, Lucifer stood up from the table.

“C’mon. I want to show you something.” Emily allowed the king to lead her down the hallway until they approached a door with a sign reading “Caution; flying tools.” Lucifer opened the door and stepped into his workshop, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I uh... It’s kind of messy. I don’t show people this place often.”

Emily looked around in awe. “You made all of these?” She asked, spinning around to see the mounds of rubber ducks. The king nodded, embarrassed.

“Uh, yeah. Kind of a stupid hobby, I know, but…”

“It’s amazing!” Emily interrupted, her eyes bright with joy. The king gave her a soft smile and picked up a plain yellow duck, tossing it between his hands. He held it out for Emily to take.

“The thing with rubber ducks is, you can’t make them evil. I’ve made ones that spit fire, that explode, but they manage to stay those cute yellow creatures. They exist purely to bring joy. I guess that’s why I started making them.”

“To bring you joy,” Emily said quietly as she took the duck. It transformed in her hands, until it was a yellow duck with white and pink hair sporting an extra set of wings on its sides. The king gave her a knowing smile.

Emily blushed. “Thank you… Your majesty.”

The king waved his hand. “You can call me Lucifer.”

“Thank you… Lucifer.” He grinned at her and turned to leave.

“Wait!” Emily said quickly. The king turned around to see the seraphim looking sheepish.

“If it’s not too much trouble, can I stay here tonight? I… I didn’t sleep well at the hotel and this place… it um…"

"reminds you more of heaven?” Lucifer finished. Emily nodded.

“Of course you can stay, kiddo.”

---

—Morning After the Lorenzo Incident—

Emily began her walk up the stairs to her hotel room, carrying a tray with a cup of coffee and a mug of hot chocolate. The king of Hell had decided that he was in charge of breakfast today, something about pancakes? Although the red-haired demon… Al? She was pretty sure, did not seem very happy about that. She walked to her door and opened it.

She blinked surprised to see Molly asleep in her bed. She’d been planning on inviting Molly in here so they could talk, but this was unexpected. She turned back to see that Molly’s door seemed to be intact. She closed the door behind her, wincing as it made a loud “clunk.”

Molly shot up in the bed.

“Wha- I” she blinked the sleep out of her eyes, her face turning red when she saw Emily.

“Umm. It’s not what it looks like?” She squeaked out. Emily tilted her head, offering the spider a smile.

“It looks like you missed me so you came to my room instead.” She said with a giggle. Molly didn’t respond. Emily handed her the coffee cup, her expression one of concern.

“Thanks.” Molly murmured. Emily nodded and gestured next to her.

“Can I sit?” Molly shrugged.

“It’s your room.” The shorter fallen angel took that as a yes and hopped up on the bed next to Molly. She let the spider wake up a little more before she began to talk.

"Hey, Molly. Since you're in here anyways, do you think we could talk?" Emily asked tentatively. Molly stiffened and set the coffee cup down, wrapping both sets of arms around herself.

"Sure. Go ahead. Tell me how badly I fucked up," Molly replied.

"What?" Emily asked, confused. Molly curled into a tighter ball.

"I killed a man. And now you hate me. It’s okay, I understand. I, I mean, I would hate me too," Molly said, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Actually, I was going to say I'm sorry," Emily said softly. Molly looked up, blinking.

"What?" Emily turned to her. "I... talked with Lucifer. You weren’t trying to kill that guy, right?"

"No. I just wanted him offa you," Molly confirmed.

"So I wanted to say I’m sorry for yelling at you. And thank you, for protecting me, because you recognized I wasn’t going to protect myself,” Emily said sincerely. Molly felt tears start to well up.

"Ya don’t hate me?" Molly whispered, her voice barely audible. Emily shook her head.

"No, sweetie. I could never hate you." Emily said, reaching out to comfort her girlfriend, who flinched away.

“Sorry I-" Molly stammered. Emily's eyes filled with hurt before quickly turning to understanding.

“Something else happened.” Emily said gently. It wasn’t a question, she could already tell. Molly’s shoulders began to tremor.

“I- I can’t, I don’t wanna,” she choked out.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Emily soothed gently. “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to. But I’m here for you, okay?” Molly sniffed and wiped her face.

“I know,” Molly acknowledged. Emily tentatively held out one of her hands. Molly took it.

“This okay?” Emily asked. Molly hummed in affirmation.

“Molly?”

“Yea?” The spider asked.

“I’m not going to ask you what happened. But can you just answer 5 things for me?” Molly hesitated.

“Please? I just want to make sure you’re safe.” Molly sighed in defeat and nodded. Emily squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“Squeeze my hand hard if the question is too hard to answer, okay?” Molly nodded.

“Okay, first question. Is the person who hurt you still here?” Emily asked gently.

Molly shook her head no.

“Okay,” Emily said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Was it someone in this hotel?” Molly hesitated "Someone who lives in this hotel?" Emily clarified.

Molly shook her head no again.

“Are you in danger right now?” Emily inquired.

Molly shook her head no once more.

“Is it someone I've met?” Emily asked, hoping for the same response.

Molly shook her head no.

Emily let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, that's good. I'm glad to hear that.”

“One more question, alright? Was what happened why you slept in here last night?” Molly stiffened. Emily feared she crossed the line until Molly slowly nodded.

“That’s alright. I’m glad you found somewhere safe to sleep. Thank you for answering those for me.” Molly hummed and leaned her cheek onto Emily’s shoulder.

“Lucifer’s downstairs making pancakes. You want some?” Emily asked.

Molly nodded but looked hesitantly at the door.

“I’ll go down and grab some for us!” Emily offered quickly, smiling at her girlfriend. Molly gave her a soft smile back.

“Thank you, stellina.” Emily snapped her fingers in realization

“Dangit! I meant to ask your brother what that meant!”

“No, that’s cheating,” Molly complained, her voice slightly hoarse from crying. Emily just giggled and took off down the stairs.

Notes:

Apologies if Lucifer is slightly OOC I struggle writing him lol

Emily: guns always kill people.
Lucifer: sweetie... no.

 

Also yes I’m making it canon that Molly goes non verbal <3

Chapter 13: Cherri on Top

Summary:

Cherri bomb has arrived so it is alcohol time!

Notes:

Ty Blue @captaiinimprobable for letting me base part of this off of the Husk/Angel
"no one will believe you" lol

AO3 CURSE IS REAL YALL. I was planning on writing this on friday in my hotel after I got off my ONE HOUR train to go to boston fan expo.

That train ended up taking FOUR HOURS.

(btw I went Molly if u want to see pics my tiktok is mk_the_cosplayer)

“I’ll go down and grab some for us!” Emily offered quickly, smiling at her girlfriend. Molly gave her a soft smile back

“Thank you stellina.” Emily snapped her fingers in realization “dangit! I meant to ask your brother what that meant!” Molly pouted “nooo thats cheating” she whined, her voice slightly hoarse from crying. Emily just giggled and took off down the stairs 

——A few hours later——
Loud laughter startled Molly and Emily who were seated on Emily’s bed watching a movie Charlie had given them. 

“Well bitch? Where is she? I want to meet your sister!” A loud Aussie accent demanded. Molly paused the movie hearing this. She didn’t recognize the voice but soon heard her brother.

“Fucking hell Cherri gimme a minute alright?” 
There was a loud banging on the door across the hall 

“Molly?”  The two fallen angels exchanged looks. Molly slunk off the bed and opened the door to Emily’s room

“Can I help ya?” she asked. The two figures turned around. her brother grinned at her, his face still slightly bruised from the night prior, while his companion, a pink haired cyclops stared at her her jaw dropped 

“Holy shit. You weren’t fucking kiddin’ when ya said you looked alike.” Angel shrugged. 

“Eh. I think I still look better.” Molly rolled her eyes at him. The cyclops punched his arm 

“Well bitch? Are ya gonna introduce us?” Angel gave Cherri an annoyed look 

“Molly. This is Cherri bomb. Cherri bomb, this is my sister Molly.” Cherri grinned at the spider revealing her pointed teeth

“Hey bitch! Nice to finally put a face to the name that drunk Angie used to call me.”  Molly snickered as her brother began to half heartedly protest  

“Nice to meetcha too. Good to know someone had this dumbass’s back down here” Molly replied. Angel huffed and glared at her 

“And to think I was gonna invite youse to go drinkin with us.” He said crossing his arms with an overexaggerated  pout

“You don’t got work or something?” Molly asked surprised that Angel was free on a weekday afternoon. The spider shrugged, and Molly noticed he suppressed a wince

“Nah. Val wants my face all fixed before I come back in. We got makeup people but stopping for touch ups takes too long.”
Cherri muttered something about Valentino under her breath that Molly didn’t quite catch

“Anyways! Ya in bitch? We know all the best clubs!” Molly hesitated until another voice spoke up 

“Can I come too?” Emily had silently popped up besides Molly. The female spider looked down at her girlfriend surprised 

“Em, ya don’t have to do this.” She said quietly. Emily looked up and gave her a determined smile 

“I know. I want too!” Molly gave a hesitant nod. 
Cherri smirked at the pair of them before gesturing with her chin towards Emily’s room.

“Couple of angel’s getting down and dirty now that you’re in hell huh?” Angel began to laugh but stopped seeing his sister’s face. Molly was ready to defend Emily and herself when the fallen seraphim spoke up 

“I didn’t fuck Molly if that’s what you’re asking.” She stated trying her best to sound cool, calm and collected. The group went silent in shock 

“D-did you just swear?” Angel asked in disbelief. He turned to Molly who seemed equally surprised. Emily, now feeling more confident, and quite proud of herself turned and looked up at Angel “Did I? Don’t remember.” She said with a grin. Cherri snickered 

“Damn miss prissy angel’s got some bite huh? Sure ya not afraid of princess and pals finding out you swore?” Emily turned to Cherri. She didn’t know how to feel about the cyclops. Every time Cherri looked at Molly, a ball of pressure filled in Emily’s gut. The fallen seraphim shrugged 

“Go ahead! Tell Charlie and Vaggie I swore! No one will believe you.” Cherri and Angel spluttered 

“Molly will back us up!” Angel tried. Molly caught Emily’s eyes which reflected the mischief in her own.

“I didn't hear nothin'.” She said with a shrug.

Cherri began to cackle “betrayal!” She declared wrapping her arm around Molly.

Noting this Emily moved in closer to Molly’s other side earning a her a confused look from the female spider 

Angel began to splutter gesturing around frantically as the three girls laughed. 

“Alright. Well bitches, you should probably get ready to go out. I’ll meetcha downstairs in like 15?” Cherri offered

“Make it 20.” Angel corrected. Cherri popped another piece of gum in her mouth before flipping him off and heading back to the lobby.

“Get ready? Emily asked starting to become anxious. “This is the only dress I have, I mean besides my nightgown and-“

“Don’t worry toots. I texted Charlie. And oh look- speak of the devil’s daughter!” The blonde princess squealed as she ran down the hall towards Emily

“Angel told me you guys are going out for some bonding time and that you needed an outfit that looked a little less um…”

“Heaven?” Molly offered. Charlie nodded enthusiastically and grabbed Emily’s hand pulling her behind her. 
Angel, who had began walking towards his room, turned around to find his sister hadn’t moved

“Well?” He prompted 

“I’m comin’!” Molly protested as she realized she was frozen in place. Angel snickered at her wording 

“Don't be fuckin’ gross. You know what I meant.” He just shrugged and led her into his bedroom again 

Molly said down on his bed and giggled when Fat Nuggets climbed into her lap 

“Hi buddy.” She said in a baby voice as she pet him 

“He seems to really like you huh?” Angel said as he reached out towards the pig who huffed at him and turned his snout to Molly 

“What the fuck?!” He complained. Molly laughed “I think he Iikes me more!” She teased

Angel huffed and began rummaging through his closet muttering something about traitorous pigs. He slowed after a minute 

“Hey uh. Sorry if I was a bitch last night.” Molly shrugged 

“You weren’t too bad. Seems like you had a rough night.” Angel kept his gaze pointedly on his closet 

“Yeah. But from what I’ve heard you did too.” Molly’s blood ran cold 

“That fucker had some nerve coming here.” Angel muttered. Molly's fists clenched  

“Husk said he wouldn’t-“ she growled 

“It wasn’t Husk.” Angel cut her off. she looked at her brother confused 

“Niffty.” He said as way of explanation. Molly groaned and buried her face in her hands 

“Shit. I forgot about tiny.” Angel hummed and tossed her a black top and pink skirt. Turning so she could change. 

“I can kill ‘im again if ya want.” Molly chuckled. as she pulled on the clothes he’d given her. Angel turned back to her 

“Oh shit wait, do you know I killed him the first time?” Molly nodded 

“Yeah. I watched ya do it from heaven. Nice shot.” Angel raised an eyebrow at her 

“You fucking stalked me?“ Molly shrugged 

“Yeah. Didn’t have much else to do. I mean who do you think kept sending those cherubs?” Angel froze for a moment 

“Cherubs?” He asked. Molly shifted uncomfortably “I uh- nevermind“

“Wait. No no no. Were those the stupid flying babies that kept appearing whenever I…. well-

“Whenever you almost overdosed?” Molly finished. Angel nodded She looked down at the ground 

“Yeah.” She said finally, barely audible. 

“Shit Molly I-“ 

“Let’s not talk about it now okay?” C’mon we gotta bar to get too.” Angel dropped the subject as he followed Molly back down to the lobby. Cherri and Emily were there, Cherri on her phone and Emily playing with her fingers. Emily grinned and ran up to Molly 

“You look so pretty!” She told her excitedly. Molly was stunned by Emily’s new look. Charlie had dressed her in fitted black leather jacket with silver accents, a lavender crop top, and a pair of dark wash jeans. It took Molly a moment to notice, that no she wasn’t crazy, Emily had tucked her wings away. 

“You-you look-“ Molly stuttered eloquently. Emily giggled and grabbed molly’s hand 

“Lucifer showed me how to hide my wings. To keep creepy guys away!” Molly nodded in understanding 

Cherri broke Molly’s thought process 

“Took ya long enough! Where we heading Angie? 666? Consent?” Angel shook his head 

“I’m thinkin’ Hell's Hounds might be more their speed.” Cherri rolled her eyes 

“The nerd club? Seriously?” Angel shrugged, making cherri give in with an exasperated sigh 

“Alrighty then, Let’s go get fucked up!” 

 

Notes:

I’m going to be giving yall a second chapter today bc of the wait

Chapter 14: Speak Easy, Dance Freely, Drink Deeply

Summary:

Two spiders, a cyclops, and a fallen seraphim walk into a bar

 

But do they all walk out together?

Emily stood in front of the bar, its neon sign flickering above the entrance. She could feel the thumping bass of music vibrating through the ground beneath her feet. This was her first time at a bar, and though her nerves were frayed, she was determined to prove herself.

Molly, standing beside her, shot her a wary glance. "Em, ya don’t have to do this."

Emily squared her shoulders, meeting Molly’s concerned gaze with steely determination. "I want to, Molly. It will be fun!" And I need to show you I can handle myself down here she thought.

Molly sighed, her protective instincts screaming at her to turn around and leave. But she knew better than to argue with Emily when she had her mind set on something. "Alright, but stick close, okay?"

Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb sauntered up to them, both looking excited for a night out. "Come on! Let’s get this party started!" Angel exclaimed, throwing an arm around Molly’s shoulders.

The group made their way inside, the bar’s interior a cacophony of low lights, loud music, and the murmur of dozens of conversations. The atmosphere was electric, and Emily felt a rush of adrenaline as she took it all in.

They found a booth near the back, and Cherri immediately began ordering drinks.

“Jägerbomb for me, Cosmo for him, hey Molly what do ya want?” The spider hesitated. She hadn’t actually ordered a drink in years, and even then, it was during prohibition. What if she messed up her order and embarrassed them? What did she even like?

“Getter a Bees knees,” Angel chimed in, shooting her a wink. “And for Em, uhhh…”

“Prairie Oyster?” Cherri asked with an evil grin on her face. Angel rolled his eyes.

“Dirty Shirley,” he corrected. Cherri shouted something about Angel being “no fun” before going back to the bartender. Angel grabbed the two girls and sat down between them.

Molly was surprised to see that the interior of the bar bore more resemblance to a speakeasy than to the modern bars in the red light district. A loud saxophone began to play, and Emily’s eyes lit up.

“They have live music?” she asked excitedly. Angel nodded.

“Yeah, one of the few places that still does it.” Emily looked longingly towards the dance floor.

“Go!” Molly encouraged. Emily turned to her.

“I’ll join you in a bit, I promise! Go dance, have fun. You know where we are, yeah?” Emily nodded and kissed Molly’s cheek before running off towards the dance floor. Cherri came over with their drinks before swiftly disappearing with a large male demon. Angel watched until Emily was out of earshot. He grabbed his cosmopolitan and took a sip.

Molly hesitantly picked up her drink, examining it.

“It ain’t spiked,” Angel reassured her.

“Okay, but what is it, though?” she asked.

“You really don’t remember?” Angel asked, surprised. Molly looked at him, confused.

“Bees knees. Honey and gin? It's what we used-" Angel Began

"to order down in Harlem! Shit, that’s right!” Molly said, recalling the memories. Her brother nodded. Molly took a sip before coughing.

“Fuck. That’s strong,” she hissed, making Angel laugh.

“Hey, uh, I never got to ask ya. How’d you bag a seraphim of heaven?” he asked curiously. Molly chuckled and set her drink down.

“I didn’t do shit. It was all Em.” Angel blinked, surprised.

“Wait, really?” Molly nodded.

“Yup. She didn’t give up neither. Told her no at first cause I wasn’t ready for a relationship, so she waited. We stayed friends for fifty years up there before I agreed to start going steady.” Angel hummed thoughtfully as he sipped his drink. Emily reappeared, her face flushed from dancing. Angel placed her cocktail in front of her.

“Pace yourself,” Molly tried to warn Emily, who took a big sip of the drink and then coughed, her eyes watering, one hand reaching up around her throat.

“It burns?” she gasped. Angel chuckled.

“Yeah, alcohol does that.” Emily nodded and coughed into her sleeve, trying to adjust.

“Want me to getcha some water?” Molly offered. Emily shook her head.

“No, I’m okay. Dance with me?” Molly agreed, and the two of them disappeared for a few songs. Another sinner tried to get Molly for a dance, but Emily shot him a death glare.

“You good?” Molly asked her girlfriend, surprised by this behavior. Emily nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s get more drinks.”

As the night progressed, Emily quickly downed her first drink and then another, despite Molly’s protests. The alcohol made her feel invincible, and she laughed and joked with Angel and Cherri, feeling more at ease with each passing moment.

"Emily, seriously, ya should slow down," Molly said, her voice tinged with worry as she watched Emily take another shot.

But Emily waved her off, a drunken grin plastered across her face. "I’m fine, Molly! Just having a little fun."

As the night wore on, Emily’s laughter grew louder, her movements more unsteady. Molly stayed close, her protective instincts on high alert. Angel and Cherri seemed to be enjoying themselves, but even they exchanged concerned glances as Emily’s condition worsened.

Finally, Emily stood up, wobbling slightly on her feet. "I need to go to the bathroom," Emily slurred, giggling.

Molly reached out to steady her. "I’ll go with ya, where is it?”

But before Molly could get a response, Cherri jumped up. "I got her, Molly. You stay here and talk with Angie for a bit." She'd been keeping a closer eye on the angel than she’d ever admit, and she was starting to worry.

Molly hesitated, her eyes darting between Emily and Cherri. "Ya sure?"

"Yeah, no worries, I got it," Cherri said with a reassuring smile, her Australian accent adding a melodic lilt to her words. "She’ll be right, mate."

Emily clung to Cherri as they made their way through the crowded bar, her steps unsteady. Molly watched them go, her heart heavy with worry. 

Cherri led Emily through the throng of people, weaving between tables and dodging enthusiastic dancers. They finally reached the narrow hallway leading to the restrooms. Cherri gave Emily a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before Emily disappeared inside. She emerged from the bathroom, looking a bit pale. Cherri gently guided Emily to a bench. "Ya doin' okay?” she asked, her tone gentle.

Emily nodded, though her eyes were glassy. "Just… dizzy," she mumbled.

Cherri chuckled softly. "Yeah, the grog’ll do that to ya. Let’s get ya some fresh air, eh?"

She helped Emily back outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat of the bar. Emily leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths.

"Ya didn’t have to do this, ya know," Cherri said. "Provin' yaself, I mean." 

Emily looked up, tears welling in her eyes. "I just… I want to show Molly I can handle it. I don’t want her to always worry about me."

Cherri smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of Emily’s face. “From what Angie tells me, Molly loves ya. And with those spiders? When they love ya, they’re always gonna worry.”

Emily sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I know. I just want to be strong."

Cherri snorted. “From what I hear, you’re plenty strong, bitch. You threw their jackass of a dad across a street! Molly and Angie have been drinking since they were kids; of course, they can handle more liquor than you.” Cherri said, her voice filled with warmth.

Emily stumbled, her mind racing with doubt and insecurity. "But… you’re… you’re better for her. You… you understand this world."

Cherri blinked (winked?). “Wait… Bitch. Do you think I’d try and make a move on Molly?” she asked. Emily shrugged.

Cherri chuckled. “Eh, Molly’s not my type. Plus, that’s my best friend’s sister. I may be a sinner and a slut, but I draw the line at fucking Angie’s sister.”

Emily nodded, the haze of the alcohol starting to lift slightly. "Thanks, Cherri."

"Anytime, bitch,” Cherri replied, wrapping an arm around Emily’s shoulders. “Wanna head back to the hotel?” Emily nodded.

They made their way back to the bar, where Molly was waiting anxiously by the door. She rushed over as soon as she saw them, her eyes scanning Emily for any signs of distress.

"Is she okay?" Molly asked, her voice tight with worry.

"She’s fine," Cherri said with a reassuring smile. "Just had a few too many. I’ll get her back to the hotel.”

Molly looked at Emily, her expression softening. "Ya sure you’re okay, Em?"

Emily nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I’m okay. I just… need to sleep."

Molly sighed in relief, pulling Emily into a gentle hug. "Alright. Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow."

As Cherri led Emily away, Molly watched them go, her heart heavy with a mix of relief and worry.

Angel Dust sidled up next to Molly, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with a rare moment of seriousness. "She’ll be okay, sis. Cherri will take good care of her.” Molly nodded.

“Come on. Let’s head back to our table.” Angel offered her a hand, and she laughed before taking it, letting him lead her as if they were at a fancy club back in 1920s-1930s New York. After a few more rounds of shots, they began taking turns asking each other questions.

“My turn!” Molly said.

“Shoot,” Angel replied. Molly thought for a moment.

“Oh, I know! I’d been meaning to ask ya. Do you want me to call youse… Angel Dust?” The name felt strange on her tongue. Her brother made a face.

“Do me a favor and nevah call me that again,” he said.

“Oh, thank god,” Molly replied, the relief in her voice sending both of them into hysterics. Angel froze mid-laugh, his eyes fixed on something in the distance.

“No… He never fuckin’ comes here,” he whispered to himself, sounding equally terrified and annoyed. Molly turned to where he was looking to see a huge purple-skinned moth man scanning the crowd. Angel attempted to shrink down out of his view, but it was too late.

The large purple-skinned moth man sauntered towards them, his wings flickering softly. His presence was imposing, and the crowd seemed to part instinctively as he moved. Molly could feel the tension rise in the air, a stark contrast to the playful atmosphere just moments before.

Angel Dust shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting nervously between the approaching moth man and Molly. "Oh shit, oh shit," he muttered under his breath.

The moth man finally reached their table, towering over them with an air of superiority. His voice boomed out, filling the space around them.

"Well, well, if it isn’t my star performer,” he said with a smirk, his voice dripping with insincerity .

Angel Dust looked up at him, his expression a mix of fear and annoyance. "Valentino," he replied tersely, his voice tight with unease

"And who would this chiquita be? Looks just like you eh Angel-"

Notes:

hehehehe. See y'all friday! (I have next one written I just need to upload)

Chapter 15: For the very first time, there I see Someone with the same pains as me

Summary:

Molly meets Valentino. She and Angel have a long talk and Molly divulges some heavy shit about her past

(on the plus side... Angel gets a fucking hug!)

 

PLEASE READ CONTENT WARNINGS!

Notes:

THIS CHAPTER IS EXTREMELY HEAVY. This chapter contains sensitive content that may be triggering for some readers. Equivalent to Episode 4 of Hazbin

CW:

Everything mentioned is characters talking about past events. No flashbacks of the events themselves.

*period typical spousal abuse mentioned: not graphic, the word hit is the most descriptive it gets

* period typical spousal rape mentioned: non graphic but the word rape is used once

* overdose mention: not described. the character acknowledges that they intentionally overdose and explains their reasoning at the time

* suicide mention: connected to previous. word suicide is not used. character just acknowledges they were responsible for their own death

* unwanted pregnancy/pregnancy loss: non graphic. the character just desperately did not want a pregnancy. no death of a fetus is described

* Implied grooming

 

If u wish to skip potentially triggering content skip the passage outlined by this border
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there is a non explicit TLDR in brackets below it.

"And who would this chiquita be? Looks just like you eh Angel-"

---

Valentino looked greedily at Molly

"Val don't-" Angel warned but was interrupted by Molly who giggled and gave the pimp a winning smile

"I’m Molly, sir.” she said flirtatiously batting her eyelashes. “Just arrived here few weeks ago. Im guessing ya Mr. Valentino? Pleasure t'meet ya.” Molly intentionally made her accent thicker, knowing from experience that people seemed to be charmed by it. The moth smirked as he took her hand and kissed it before licking her arm. Molly for her credit, didn’t flinch away

"So you've heard of me? Well Miss Molly. If you ever want a role. I’m sure you and Angel would make a....tantalizing pair together. I've heard Mammon has a set of twins who make a wonderful double act and I’ve been hoping to find a partner to have Angel do something similar” Angel gagged behind Valentino’s back.

“Ooooh, a double act, huh? That's a real swell offer. Mind if I mull it over a bit?" Molly purred, her tone dripping with flirtatious charm.

"Of course, gorgeous," Valentino replied with a sly smile, his eyes lingering on Molly a moment too long. "Enjoy your night," he added, his tone suggestive as he turned away, his gaze already searching for his next target in the dimly lit bar.

Once out of earshot Angel turned and looked at his sister horrified.

"Molly. The fuck was that?" Angel hissed. Molly wiped her arm off on her skirt her expression one of disgust.

"Ya boss is a creep."

"Yeah no shit. Why the fuck did you flirt with him?" Angel asked

"Because pissing him off would only get you hurt.” Molly said casually as she took a sip from her drink. Angel froze like a deer in headlights

"I...what are you talking about?" He stammered. Molly locked eyes with him

"Anthony. Don't lie to me."

Angel's mask broke. He felt his eyes start to fill with tears

"Cmon. Let’s get outta here." Molly advised. Angel let his sister lead him outside until she found a good spot for him to sit on.

“Molly Its my fault I can explain-“

“Tony. Just shut the fuck up and listen to me.”

Angel’s mouth snapped shut

“I don’t give a shit how or why you ended up working as a pornstar. Hell if it’s what you want to do, go for it. But why are you working for him?”

“Molly it’s complicated. Plus it’s not so bad…”

“Tony. I’m not blind. I’ve seen you come back to the hotel. He works the shit out of you. And the bruising?”

“Most of thats not from him-"

Molly sighed and sat down a few feet away from her brother. She'd had her suspicions but hearing Angel trying desperately to rationalize his situation confirmed it for her.

 

“Ya know. When Lorenzo and I first got married, I thought maybe I had it good. For the first time in my life I was free from Pa. And Enzo acted real sweet, he brought me flowers, fancy jewelry, treated me like I was something special to him. I thought he was my savior, he was the only person other than you, Ma, and Nico, who made me feel well... wanted. Hell, we even talked about raisin' a family together."

Angel looked up at her horrified by that thought. Molly smiled

"I know right?" She shook her head.

 

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"But real slowly things started to go bad. He got in a fight with Pa one day and hit me when he got home. He apologized and promised to never to do it again and took me out to a fancy dinner. Then it would happen whenever he was drunk. I started taking laudanum first just to help with the pain, then starting drinking it because it was easier to live with him if i was in a stupor. Overtime things only got worse. He forbade me from leavin’ the house alone and his friends made sure he had eyes everywhere when I tried. Livin' with him was like dancing on a powder keg. I never knew what would set him off. He…well it wasn’t rape I guess because we was married but, we certainly had a lotta sex that I didn’t agree to. The day I died... the day I downed that whole bottle... was the day I found out I was pregnant."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿

[Summary of above. Lorenzo bad man. Lorenzo hurt Molly in multiple ways. Molly began to rely on laudanum. Molly took too much laudanum after discovering she was expecting]

Angel stared at her his mouth open in shock

“Ya wanna know why I never told nobody?” she asked quietly. Angel nodded

“I was too scared of him, and Pa, to try. I knew even if he was gone, I'd just get married off to some other fella. I died because I couldnt bear the thought of bringing a kid, especially another little girl, into our shitty world." She admitted.

She locked eyes with her brother

“So I know what it’s like. To think you know someone, only to become trapped by a monster, with drugs as your only means to escape.”

Angel went quiet. "Valentino... owns my soul. Few years afta' I been down here... Val and I started dating. He can be real charmin’ when he wants to. Pops found out and well…he beat the every loving shit outta me. Val found me half double dead and convinced me he could protect me from Pa; if I signed a contract with him. I thought he wanted to help me.” Angel’s voice went bitter. “So my dumbass signed it. Real name and everythin’. So now, while I'm in the studio, I have to do whateva' he says.” 

Molly stayed silent, sensing he had something more to say. Angel took a deep breath.

"Val," he hesitated. "Val was the first guy to tell me he loved me, Molly. He was... no. He stole... my first... everything."

 

“…Shit.” Molly whispered. They sat in silence for a few moments

 

“Can I hug ya, or would you rather not be touched right now ?” Molly asked finally. Angel blinked surprised at having an option. He thought for a moment.

“Hug?” he finally requested.

Molly obliged wrapping both sets of her arms around him. She didn’t say anything, she just held him. Angel felt himself crying but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

They stayed like that for some time before Angel finally pulled away

“Thank you Molly. For, not judging me.” he said wiping his face. Molly smiled

“Hey we’re both in Hell now right?” Angel nodded as he laughed

“Yeah. You’re stuck with me bitch. Oh and uh by the way. The whole, marriage equals consent thing? They got rid of that up there.”

“Shit really?” Molly asked

“Mmhmm. in the U.S. at least. I think it was the… uh 1990’s?”

“Damn. Took em long enough.”

Notes:

Sooooo... how we feeling??

Fun Fact! This was the second chapter I ever wrote for this fic (originally I thought it was going to be chapter 8)

My FBI agent definitely has me on a list for researching laudanum, lol. Btw laudanum is the stuff Crowley went loopy on in good omens.

Here's a quick infodump: laudanum is a mixture of opium and alcohol, typically containing 10% opium and 50% alcohol. It was once sold over the counter as a pain reliever and sleep aid.

Laudanum was commonly available in 2oz (59 ml) and 4oz bottles. The recommended dosage was just 5-25 drops (0.25-1.25ml), so when Molly downed the entire bottle, she took approximately 79 times the recommended dose.

By the way, your standard shot glass holds 1.5 ounces.

Chapter 16: A Moment in Rouge

Summary:

Y'all know the deal, I give u big angst chapter, now here is an early released fluffy flashback <3 (actually fluffy this time)

 

— flashback. 1927—— (age 15)

Tony watched with intrigue as his sister came in to their once shared room, hiding something behind her back. 

 

“Watcha got there?” He asked

Molly giggled

“Vittoria gave me some of her old makeup. Don’t tell papa!” She whispered. Tony grinned

“I aint gonna tell him shit.”

“Tony!” She hissed at his swearing. He laughed.

 

Molly sat down at her desk and popped open the vanity case. Tony watched as the black leather box opened to reveal shiny pink satin lining, the soft light from the window catching on the metallic containers and tiny glass bottles inside.

His grin faded into a look of silent yearning as he leaned against the doorframe, trying to appear casually interested. Molly picked up a delicate tin of rouge, its lid decorated with floral patterns, and a round compact of pancake makeup. She held them up to the light, marveling at their beauty.

“Look at this!” she said, her voice filled with excitement as she picked up a slim tube of red lipstick. “Vittoria said it’s the perfect shade for me.”

Tony nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Yeah, it looks real nice,” he said, his voice a touch hoarse.

Molly continued to explore the contents of the case, pulling out a tiny brush for the cake mascara and a slender stick of eye kohl. Tony’s eyes followed every movement, his heart aching with a longing he couldn’t express.

 

“Do you want to try it?” Molly asked. Her brother jumped not realizing Molly had caught him staring

“I...no course not.” he lied. Molly giggled

“Ya know for a mobster you’re a real bad liar.” He huffed.

“It ain’t for fellas. It’s for broads like you.” He muttered. Molly put her hands on her hips

“Says who?” Tony shrugged.

“All the posters got dolls on em. Plus pops would put me 6 feet under if he saw me with that shit.”

“And he’d have my head if he knew I was using it. You’ve heard his rule. ‘Ain’t No daughta of mines gonna be goin’ round lookin’ like a cheap whore!'” Molly retorted. “Now c’mere. Sit! Unless of course… you’re too chicken?” she taunted. Tony scowled and sat down in front of her. He flinched away as the mascara comb came close. “Hold still dummy” Molly scolded him

“I’m trying.” He grunted “It's hard when ya sticking something near my fucking eye.” He yelped as Molly poked his eye by accident,  instinctively moving and getting the cake mascara all over his eye and cheek. Molly burst into giggles

“You look like a raccoon.”

“Ya stabbed me!” He whined

“Oh cmon ya big baby. You’re fine. Cmon let me try something else on you.”

“Nuh uh. You ain’t putting nothin’ on me. Let me do it.”  Molly shrugged and handed him the rouge. He pressed his fingers into and clumsily spread it across his face leaving behind a red streak alongside the black mascara lines. He attempted to blur it out, unsuccessfully and frowned

“I’m shit at this aint I?” He asked. Molly bit back a laugh

“A little…” she admitted. A pounding at their door startled them

“Molly? Tony? Ya in there?” Nico called. The twins locked eyes. They were dead if he found them like this. Molly had a sudden idea. She grabbed the cake mascara and pressed two of her fingers into it before quickly tossing it back into the case and slamming it shut with her other hand.

 

“Yeah Nico. I’m just patching up Tones. Dumbass got in a scuffle in the alley.” Tony looked at her wax covered fingers in confusion until she gestured to his eye. His mouth opened in understanding. She quickly smeared the black wax onto and around his eyelid  before grabbing a  facial tissue, covering her stained fingers and most of the makeup, just as Nico opened the door. Between the partially blocked "black" eye, and the red on his face, Nico seemed to buy the “scuffle”

“Did ya win at least?” Nico asked his brother. Tony nodded and after the slight kick from Molly, winced. "Uh. Yeah. Those fuckers ain’t gonna be coming back round here anytime soon."

“Good. Uh. Hope that don’t bruise too much or whateva. Pops and I is gonna be home late. We has some” He paused seeing Molly “…business to attend to.” Tony nodded grimly. Molly kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to ask about the “business”, at least when Nico was around.

 

They waited frozen until they heard the sure sign of the front door closing.

“That was fuckin’ close.” Tony muttered. Molly hummed in agreement

Tony glanced at himself in the mirror again, the makeup still adorning his face. “Hey uh Molly? Do ya think you could you maybe, uh, help me do this right?” he asked quietly, clearly embarrassed.

Molly smiled reassuringly.

“course. And hey, i’ll try not to stab ya eye this time kay?” They both laughed. Molly retrieved a jar of Cold Cream from her dresser and handed it to Tony. “Here, this’ll take it off. Let me help you.”

Tony hesitated but then nodded, allowing Molly to take the lead. She scooped out a generous amount of the cold cream and began gently massaging it into his skin, starting with his cheeks and working her way up to his forehead and down to his chin.

“This stuff’s weird,” Tony said, feeling the cool cream dissolve the makeup.

“It’s magic, trust me,” Molly replied with a smile, continuing to work the cream into his skin. “Just relax.”

Tony closed his eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering in his stomach as Molly’s fingers moved across his face. Once the cold cream had thoroughly broken down the makeup, Molly grabbed a soft cloth and began wiping away the mixture of cream and makeup, revealing Tony’s bare skin underneath.

“See? Easy,” she said, showing him the cloth covered in makeup.

“Yeah, easy,” Tony echoed, feeling a strange mix of relief and sadness as the makeup disappeared.

Molly handed him the cloth. “Here, you can do the rest.”

Tony took the cloth and wiped his face, making sure to get every last bit of makeup off. He looked at himself in the mirror, his face now clean but still bearing the faint marks of where the makeup had been.

“Thanks, sis” he said quietly.

Molly smiled and grabbed a bar of  soap and a bowl of warm water. “Let’s make sure it’s all gone,” she said, lathering the soap in her hands before gently washing his face. Tony let her, feeling the soothing warmth of the water and the comforting scent of the soap.

After rinsing his face with a clean cloth dipped in the warm water, Molly patted his skin dry with a towel. “There, all clean,” she said, handing him the towel.

Tony looked at himself in the mirror again, his skin now fresh and clear. “Thanks,” he said, a touch more confidently.

 

With a playful twinkle in her eye, Molly picked up the makeup again. “Now, let’s fix this up properly.”

---

Tony stared at himself in the mirror, struck by the unfamiliar sight that greeted him. It was him, but he looked… different. Molly's artistic touch had subtly altered his features. Delicate rouge highlighted parts of his face, lending a soft glow to his complexion. His lashes, elongated with mascara, fluttered like those of dolls in films, accentuated with precise black lines that Molly had expertly applied. Cherry-red lips gave his expression a boldness he had never imagined for himself. Even his eyebrows, concealed beneath a layer of what Molly had called pancake makeup, had been meticulously reshaped into slender arcs.

 

He was confused to find he didn’t hate it. Instead, a curious acceptance settled in, tinged with a hint of wonder at this altered version of himself. He raised his hand to touch his face but stopped himself, not wanting to mess up Molly’s work.

“You okay?” Molly asked seeing as he had been staring in silence for a few minutes now.

Tony exhaled softly, turning to meet her gaze in the mirror. “I dunno? I mean, it looks… nice. But uh, ya know,” he admitted, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. Molly hummed as she came to stand behind the chair he sat in placing her hands on the backrest. “Well. I think it suits ya. Ya look beautiful Tony. And if this makes ya feel good, we can do this whenever you want.” she said in complete sincerity. Tony blinked back tears

“How the hell did I end up with you for a sista huh?” Molly grinned

"Ya got lucky.” Her eyes sparkled with playful insistence as she leaned in closer. “Now get up,” she urged, her tone light and teasing, “I think this makeup needs a matching dress.”

Notes:

if ur trying to imagine the makeup, look up Madge Bellamy

Chapter 17: A History of High Stakes

Summary:

When the past comes knocking, Husk must confront the demon who ruined him.

Notes:

Brain went brrrr so yall get this weeks chapter a day early <3

Content warning: venom and brief paralysis of a character

In the dimly lit ambiance of the Hazbin Hotel's bar, Husk wiped down the counter with a rag, his eyes half-lidded from exhaustion or perhaps a bit too much drinking. It was late, meaning most of the hotel was asleep, or at least in their rooms. Cherri had taken Emily upstairs a few hours earlier and then disappeared. The only residents yet to return were Molly and Angel. Husk’s ears perked up as he heard the door open. He turned to greet them, but it wasn't the twins who entered.

A short figure creaked open the door and slunk in, his eight glowing crimson eyes scanning the room. His charcoal-grey skin and spider-like features stood out against the lobby’s warmth. Spotting Husk behind the counter, a sly grin spread across his face as he made his way over.

"Well, well, well," He drawled, leaning casually against the side of the bar. "If it ain’t Huskerino, the grumpiest gambler in all of Hell."

Husk glanced up from his cleaning, his expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "What do you want, Nico?" he muttered, using Arackniss's human name deliberately, knowing the spider demon preferred to go by his demonic moniker.

Arackniss chuckled softly, a glint of mischief in his eight piercing eyes. "Just here for a drink, maybe a little chat with an old friend." The spider hopped up until he stood on a bar stool, making himself eye level with the feline.

Husk snorted derisively. "Friend? Since when do you make friends, especially after what you did?"

Arackniss's grin widened, his tone teasing. "Oh, come on now, Husk. Ya can't still be sore about that little game of poker, can ya? It's been what, decades now?”

Husk's fur bristled slightly at the mention of their past. "You cheated," he growled lowly, his eyes narrowing at Arackniss.

"Did I?" Arackniss's voice was smooth, his demeanor unapologetic. "Or did ya just underestimate my skills? You was too busy bluffing, old man."

Husk clenched his fists, his tail lashing behind him. "You knew I had my soul on the line," he spat out bitterly. "And you still played dirty."

Arackniss shrugged nonchalantly, pouring himself a drink from the bottle Husk had out on the bar. "Hey, all's fair in love and gamblin’, right?"

"Love?" Husk scoffed, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "You wouldn't know love if it hit you in the face, Nico."

Arackniss took a sip of his drink, his gaze steady on Husk. “And you do? What’s it you used to say? ‘I lost the ability to love years ago.’” He recited. Husk glared at the spider disliking his own words being used against him

“Seems like love's a foreign concept for both of us,” Arackniss continued, his tone cool and calculating. "But I know how to win, and I know how to survive. Something you might want to consider, pal."

Husk gritted his teeth, his claws digging into the counter. "You're not my pal, Arackniss. You never were."

Arackniss raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Ouch. Still holdin’ onto that grudge after all these years?”

Husk's gaze hardened, a mixture of anger and resignation in his eyes. "You took everything from me," he muttered, more to himself than to Arackniss.

Arackniss's expression softened momentarily, a flicker of something resembling regret crossing his features before shrugging and regaining his arrogant persona. "Maybe. But look at you now, Husk. Still standin’. Still pourin’ drinks. And still got your powers from what I hear, even though you’re now on a leash.”

Husk bristled at the last comment, his fur standing on end as he clenched his fists.

Arackniss finished his drink and set the glass down with a soft clink. “You’re a husk of yer former self, ya might say." he added, clearly proud at his pun

Husk's eyes narrowed at the deliberate jab. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, Arackniss? Somewhere your presence might actually be welcome? The casino you stole from me perhaps?”

Arackniss smirked faintly, amusement lacing his tone. "Oh, I'll leave when I'm ready. No need to rush, especially not for the likes of youse.” His smirk widened slightly. "Besides, from what I been hearin' I'm about as powerful as ya big bad master these days. Funny how things change eh?”

Husk bristled visibly, his feathers ruffling with annoyance. "What do you know?" he shot back, his voice low and defensive.

Arackniss chuckled softly, leaning closer with a taunting glint in his eyes. "Oh, I know more than you thinks, Husk." He paused, then added mockingly, "Are ya planning to summon yer master for protection again? Seems like you're still just his loyal alley cat."

Enraged by Arackniss's mockery, Husk lunged forward with a snarl, aiming a swift punch at Arackniss's face. But Arackniss was quicker. He ducked under the blow, and extended his lower arms grabbing Husk's extended arm in a vice-like grip.

With a feral snarl, Arackniss's claws extended like gleaming daggers, their sharp, segmented tips emerging with a menacing glint. He tightened his grip, breaking the skin and, injecting venomous energy that seeped into Husk's system. The potent venom sent a sharp shock through Husk's nerves, momentarily paralyzing him.

Husk gasped, muscles tensing as he struggled against the paralysis. Arackniss held him firmly, crimson eyes glinting with satisfaction. The room seemed to quiet, heavy with the tension of their confrontation.

"Careful, Husk," Arackniss warned, his voice now a quiet threat. "You shouldn't provoke those stronger than ya.”

Husk, fighting to regain control of his body, met Arackniss's gaze with a mixture of defeat and begrudging respect.

Arackniss smirked at the cat and released his wrist. “Good kitty.” He simpered. Husk gritted his teeth as he felt the venom slowly fade, his muscles spasming but slowly un-tensing. 

“We both know you didn’t come here just to fuck with me. Why are you really here?” Husk asked, his voice strained and uneven. Arackniss shrugged

“Family business.”

Husk scoffed  “What family?”

Arackniss's smirk deepened, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Ya haven't figured it out yet?" he retorted, his voice carrying a hint of mockery. Husk felt a cold wash of disbelief settle over him, his mind racing to connect the unsettling dots. No. They couldn’t be.

His usual poker face must have broken as Arackniss chuckled seeing the cat finally begin to put the pieces together.

“Anyways. Tell the twins I says ‘Hi’ pussycat.” He said as he sauntered to the door, making his exit. 

Once Husk was sure he was gone, he let himself collapse onto the floor behind the bar, his muscles still quacking. Memories flooded his mind. The pieces clicked into place: Angel Dust and Arackniss were brothers. Arackniss, his once closest friend, who had ruined his life was the brother of his…friend. Doubt crept in. Could he trust Angel? Did Angel know about Arackniss all along? The questions swirled in his mind, clouding his thoughts with uncertainty.

He was uncertain how long he remained there trapped in his mind, until loud laughter startled him out of his thoughts. Molly and Angel walked him, their arms wrapped around each other, visibly intoxicated. Angel looked around, searching for someone. Molly snickered.

“Lookin’ for your boyfriend?” She teased. Angel rolled his eyes

“It ain’t like that.” He replied. Molly gave him an disbelieving  look

“Sureee” she said drawing out the word. Angel ignored his sister, focused in on Husk’s hat, which was sitting on the ground beside the bar. He’d never seen the cat without it. He walked forward to pick it up, gasping in shock when he saw the bartender.

"Oh, shit. Whiskers, ya okay?" he asked, concerned, bending down toward the cat. Husk shrank away from him instinctively, letting out a loud hiss.

 

Notes:

Hehehehehe. I bet none of you were expecting Arackniss to be the one who destroyed Husk huh?

(Husk sold his soul to Alastor after losing to Arackniss as a last ditch effort to retain his power)

Chapter 18: Beneath the Feathers and Fangs

Summary:

Huskerdust ANGST

 

"Oh, shit. Whiskers, ya okay?" he asked, concerned, bending down toward the cat. Husk shrank away from him instinctively, letting out a loud hiss.

---

Angel Dust, taken aback, held his hands up defensively. "Hey, chill out, Husk. I'm not gonna hurt ya."

Molly, standing a bit farther back, observed the exchange with narrowed eyes. She stepped forward cautiously. "Husk, what's got you so riled up?" she asked, her tone softening slightly.

Husk's feathers bristled as he struggled to regain his composure, fighting against the lingering pain . He glanced between Angel and Molly, his gaze lingering on Angel with a mixture of suspicion and anger

“Did you know? About Arackniss?” He demanded

Angel blinked, confused. “I mean… yeah, he’s my brother.” Husks eyes burned with rage. 

“And to think. I thought we were friends.” He growled.

“Husk what are you-?” Angel reached out to take his hand. Husk snarled and swatted at him with his claws narrowly missing his arm

“The fuck?” Angel yelped backing away. 

“Stay the fuck away from me Angel Dust.” He demanded.

“Look I don’t know whatcha deal is but you clearly need help.” Husks eyes burned gold, his wings expanding as he grew to his full demonic form. Angel backed away in terror, finally seeing for the first time why Husk had once been a feared overlord. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Alastor manifested in front of him

“Husker.” The radio demon chastised. Husk glared at his master but slowly shrunk back to his normal size, hissing in pain. Alastor turned to the twins

“I think you should go.” He said calmly. His fingers wrapped around the top of his cane.

“No fucking way. You think I’m stupid enough to leave ya alone with him?” Angel snapped. Alastor looked at him unimpressed

“Husker. Do you want Angel here right now?” Husk shook his head glaring daggers at the male spider.

“Alright then. Angel. Leave. Now.” Angel opened his mouth to argue but Alastor’s eyes flashed green

“I think you’ve done enough damage for the night don’t you?” The radio demon said, his voice a calm threat. Angel stepped back his eyes full of hurt

“Fuck you.” He spat. Molly grabbed his arm

“Cmon Tony. Let’s give him some space.” She advised.

As they ascended the stairs, Angel couldn't help but glance back over his shoulder, worry and frustration etched on his face. Molly tightened her grip on his arm, leading him firmly away.

“He's just upset,” Molly said softly, though her own expression was troubled. “We’ll give him some time.”

Angel scoffed, pulling away once they reached the hallway. “Yeah, time to what? Hate me even more?” He stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Molly sighed, leaning against the wall. “This isn’t just about you, Tony. Husk has his own demons to fight.”

“Great. Another person in my life who hates me because of my family,” Angel muttered, kicking at the floor.

Molly looked up at him, understanding flickering in her eyes. “So, Nico is this Arackniss, then?”

Angel blinked at her. “How’d you figure that out so fast?”

Molly looked at her brother unimpressed. “I ain’t stupid, ya know.” She reminded him. Angel flopped back onto his bed with a groan.

“I don’t get why I care so fuckin’ much. I mean, this ain’t the first time I’ve lost people down here because of him or Pops.”

Molly sat down on the bed next to her brother. “Because you’ve caught feelings for Husk,” she said softly.

Angel sat up suddenly, feeling defensive. “No, I ain’t!” he argued.

Molly just shrugged. “I’ve seen you flirt with anyone at the drop of a hat down here. Anyone except him.”

Angel crossed his arms. “Because he asked me not to,” he muttered.

Molly sighed. “What I mean is… you’re genuine with him, Tones. And you seem happier when you’re around him. You really telling me you wouldn’t wanna be with him?” Angel curled into a ball.

“I—of course I do, Molls. But… what could he possibly see in me?” Angel finally confessed, his voice heavy with emotion.

---

 

Downstairs, Alastor drew closer to Husk. "You know, Husker, letting your past dictate your actions will only bind you in an unending spiral of pain."

Husk shot him a fierce glare. "You don't get it."

Alastor's grin widened, devoid of warmth. "Maybe not. But I do know that vengeance clouds even the sharpest minds. Don't allow it to devour you."

Notes:

I wont let miscommunication last too long I promise

Chapter 19: Golden Gates of Gloom

Summary:

A flashback of Emily and Molly meeting.

Notes:

"If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple." -1 Corinthians 3:17

cw religious trauma, withdrawal symptoms including
Non graphic instance of vomiting.

Flashback: December 21, 1937

Consciousness was shit. Molly decided.

It made itself known in the space behind her eyes, knawning its way through her skull. She groaned and opened them only to wince at the bright light surrounding her. Her head pounded.

“The fuck?” She muttered. She looked around to see nothin but clouds, and… golden gates

 

Wait.

 

Golden Gates?

 

“Great. It didn’t work. I’m just hallucinatin’. Fan fucking tastic.” She grumbled to herself choosing to go along with this shitshow and walk through the gates

 

A blonde haired… man? In what looked like priest’s vestments gave her a giant smile

 

“Hello! I’m Saint Peter!” He greeted. Molly backed up uncertainly

“So Am I dead?"

"Yep.”

“So this is Hell?”

“What?” He gasped. Molly blinked at him confused

“I mean I just thought since I- ya know what never mind.”

“Oh! you’re funny. A jokester I see” he said with a forced laugh. Molly didn’t join in his mirth.

“No this is Heaven of course!” Molly stared at him unconvinced

“Heaven.” She repeated. The “saint” nodded enthusiastically

“Yup! Sure is! Can I get your name please?”

 

Fuck it why not. Molly thought

“Molly. Molly Ragno.” She offered. The angel looked confused as he flipped through his book

“I don’t have a Molly Ragno here…”

“Oh shit wait uh. Is there a Molly Scavo…I forgot I took my husbands name”

 

“There is!” Welcome to Heaven Mrs. Scavo! And congratulations on your marriage” Molly winced at that.

 

“Yeah. Thanks.” If this is real, am I seriously going through withdrawals in HEAVEN? she thought as she felt the sweating begin

 

A whirlwind of purple and blue swirled into the room making Molly feel even more nauseous

“Hi Saint Peter!” The whirlwind squeaked as it formed into a more humanoid form

“Hello Emily!” The saint said greeting the youngest seraphim joyfully

Emily then spotted Molly

“Who’s this?” She asked

Molly didn’t answer her. Miss bubbly was way to chipper for her liking, especially considering 1) she’d just died 2) unless this was some trick, she was pretty sure she was starting to go through drug withdrawals

 

“Emily this is Molly. She just arrived. Why don’t you show her around?”

“That’s not neccesa-“ Molly tried but the hyperactive gremlin had already grabbed her hand was pulling her along

 

Molly’s head pounded, her eyes swam and her stomach churned as the tiny blur dragged her around Heaven never shutting the fuck up. Finally she managed to pull away just in time to hurl into a trash can.

The angel was right behind her and took her hand. Molly pulled away sending her a glare

"The fuck are you doing?"

“I don’t understand, I can’t heal your sickness. Everyone who died because of sickness is well again in heaven. ” The angel murmured worried

“I’m not sick. I’m in fuckin’ withdrawals okay?”

“I… I don’t know what that means”

 

“Ughh just leave me alone.”

 

“No.” The annoying angel said crossing her arms. Molly glared at her

“The fuck you mean “no?”” The angel gasped

“You can’t use language like that!”

“Oh yeah? Fucking watch me.” Molly tried to turn to her and look intimidating but the room spun. She was so out of it she thought she’d looked down to see she had four legs instead of two. The angel steaded her.   

“You’re sick. I’m taking you to your room.” The angel decided

“Gee thanks ma.” Molly grumbled secretly relieved. She  begrudgingly followed the energetic pest until she was led to her living quarters. Molly walked in and flopped on the bed. Every inch of her body ached. She was fully prepared to just crash. Until she realized, miss bubbly hadn’t left.

The angel had continued  to stand in the doorway and was tapping her foot

“What do I have to do to make ya leave?” Molly groaned.

“Tell me how I can make you happy!” The angel demanded

“I told ya. By fucking off.” Molly snapped

“And I told you. No.” Molly growled

“Fine. Ya wanna make me happy? See if you can find my Ma up here.”

“I can do that!” The angel said, still somehow chipper. “What’s her name?”

“Maria Antonia Ragno”

 

 

Notes:

Huskerdust 🤝 Heavenly spider

Chapter 20: From Drink to Dawn

Summary:

Twin fluff, hungover Emily, and an introduction to Charlie's D.A.R.E program

cw: emetophobia (vomiting) not really graphic, but words "retch" and the smell is vaguely described (I surrounded the scene with ------)

"I—of course I do, Molls. But… what could he possibly see in me?” Angel finally confessed, his voice heavy with emotion.

 

Molly just sighed. She was in no state to offer life advice.

“Theres a lot more to you that just your…career idiota. C’mon. We should probably go to sleep. I don’t know boutcha but I need to sleep those drinks off.

Angel  looked at his sister surprised “we?” Molly turned red

“Shit sorry I mean- I just-“

“Ya don’t want to sleep alone after what happened.” Her brother said quietly. Their eyes met in silent understanding. Molly nodded

“Yeah. And I don’t wanna wake Em. God knows how she’s gonna be in the mornin’.

Angel chuckled “a hungover seraphim. Given how she acted tonight, that should be entertainin’” Molly shoved him affectionately

“Hey it was her first time drinking!” Angel laughed and got up to grab something for them each to sleep in. He threw his sister another oversized shirt “go change cogliona” Molly stuck her tongue out at her brother before disappearing into the bathroom. She knocked on the door before exiting

“Ya decent?.” Angel snickered

“no.” Molly rolled her eyes 

“well are ya clothed?”

“Yeah.” He admitted.

Molly reappeared from the bathroom. Angel smiled at her before grabbing a pillow and whacking her over the head. Molly let out a noise of  astonishment before grabbing another and returning the gesture. They continued their battle for several minutes before Fat nuggets let out a disgruntled snort from the corner

“Shit sorry bud.” Angel said softly realizing he hadn’t fed the pig yet. as he did so Molly sat on the bed

“I meant to ask ya. Where’d the pig come from?” Angel stiffened. Molly realized she knew the answer

“Fuck. Tony-“

“It’s fine. Yeah. He was a gift from Val.” At hearing the overlords name Fat Nuggets let out what could only be described as an angry snort and looked around as if scanning for the shitlord. Molly chuckled

“Well good know me and the pig feel the same way about that fucker.” Angel looked at her concerned for a moment

“Please don’t do nothin’ stupid.” Molly sighed

“Tony. I ain’t gonna do nothin without clearin’ it with you first. Don’t wanna make shit worse.” her brother smiled gratefully

“Now cmon. I’m tired. get in this fucking bed so we can go to sleep.” Her brother let out a genuine laugh and obeyed, turning out the light while he did so.

“Reminds me of when we were kids” he said quietly.

Molly hummed in acknowledgment. The three-room, two-bedroom tenement apartment they had in Brooklyn had been tiny. Originally, all three siblings shared a bed until Nico grew too big and moved to the Murphy bed in the living room/kitchen. Once they turned twelve, their father declared it "inappropriate" for Molly to share a bed with her brother—a decision they both privately agreed was ridiculous. But this had meant that Molly moved to the living room, and the brothers shared the bedroom

“Yeah. ya better not still be a blanket stealer though.” she mumbled sleepily

---

 

The next morning, the twins made their way down to breakfast. Molly was surprised at the lack of Emily.

“Any sign of Em?” She asked Husk. The bartender shook his head no. Niffty popped up

“I heard angel girl getting sick earlier. It sounded messy.” She informed Molly. Molly shot a concerned look up that stairs

“Go. I’ll fill Charlie in and tell her not to bother your girl.” Angel advised. Molly raced up the stairs. He went to sit next to Husk, who immediatly got up from the table refusing to even look at the spider, leaving his half finished plate to go cold.

“For fucks sake.” Angel muttered

 

---

Molly reached Emily’s door and knocked gently

“Em? You okay?” she heard a groan from inside

 

--------------- cw emetophobia

“Moll-“ Emilys voice was cut off by the sound of retching. Molly grimaced

“I’m comin' in.”

“Noooo I don’t want you to see me like this!” The seraphim weakly protested. But Molly was already inside. Emily was hugging the porcelain throne looking absolutely miserable. The spider silently made her way over and pulled grabbed a hair tie, pulling Emily’s hair out of her face. Emily closed her eyes looking almost ashamed

“I’d ask how ya feelin’ but I think I’ve got my answer.” Molly said quietly. Emily groaned

“Everything so bright… so loud….I’m never drinking again.” She declared. Molly let out a soft laugh as she moved to sit next to the seraphim ignoring the putrid smell as she gently ran her hand up Em’s back.

“Yeah that’s what we all say.”

“I mean it though. This… this sucks.” Emily mumbled. After a moment she opened her eyes

“Is this what withdrawal felt like?” She asked. Molly blinked confused

“Huh?”

“When you first got to heaven, you said you went through withdrawals. Was it this?” Molly chuckled

“Kinda. Drug withdrawal hits harder than this though.”

“Harder?” Emily said her voice cracking in disbelief she turned to Molly her eyes bloodshot. The movement clearly did not agree with her as she once again began to retch. Molly grimaced and got up

“Please Don’t go” Emily mumbled.

“I’m just getting ya some water.” Molly assured her. She filled a cup and returned back down

--------------- end of emetophobia

“Here. The alcohol dehydrated ya. It’s part of why ya feel like shit.” Emily hummed and reached of the cup

She began taking greedy sips of the water. Molly grabbed the glass, pulling it away slightly

“Easy. Don’t drink it too fast.” Emily obeyed taking smaller sips

“Sorry I was so loud then.” Molly tilted her head confused 

“when we met. I now can tell I made things worse.” Emily sniffed. Molly hummed

“Ya know I can’t lie to you stellina. At the time yeah. Ya did. Butcha didn’t know. Don’t worry bout it. I forgave ya long ago for that ya goof. Now if ya done, Let’s get you back in bed okay? I’ll make sure princess leaves ya be.”  Emily hummed in agreement letting Molly manhandle her back up. She squeaked in surprise when the spider picked her up

“Molly!” She protested.
“you get to walk when you can turn your head without gettin’ woozy.” she declared. Emily groaned and buried her head in molly’s shoulder but relented as the spider tucked her into bed. Molly pulled the curtains tight and turned off the light making Emily sigh in relief.

“Thank you.” Emily mumbled. Molly smiled

“I’ll be back to check on ya in a bit. Maybe see if I can find some shit to help okay?”

Emily let out a sleepy hum of acknowledgement 

“Sleep well love.”

 

Molly quietly closed the door and made her way back downstairs to find Charlie grilling Angel

 

"You said you don't have work until tonight, right?” 

“Yeah?” Angel acknowledged. 

“Well, then today is the perfect day for another Narcotics Anonymous meeting!” Charlie said, sounding way too chipper. Angel huffed. 

“Don’t think you can call it 'anonymous,' toots, if it’s just me,” he pointed out. Molly sat down at the table next to Charlie. 

“What’s this about?” 

“Oh! I’m working on a drug rehab program! It’s just Angel in it now, but—”

“I should probably join, then,” Molly cut her off casually

Charlie blinked, surprised. “Uh, what?” 

Molly shrugged. “I told ya. I did the drug shit too. The only reason I got clean was because there are no drugs in heaven. I didn’t get clean by choice. Ask Em later. I was a fucking bitchy mess when I first got up there.” 

Angel grimaced. “Wait, you mean you had to go cold turkey?” 

Molly nodded. Her brother let out a soft whistle. 

Charlie cleared her throat.

“Alright then. I guess we have two members now. You two follow me!” she said enthusiastically The twins exchanged looks as they followed Charlie into the living room. In front of then was a whiteboard with the word “drugs” written on it with a crossed out circle over it. Molly turned to Angel

“Is she fucking serious?” Angel nodded

“Unfortunately. Yeah. She is.

Notes:

Translations: idiota and cogliona both mean idiot

also yes the "are you decent" "are you dressed" is from the christian borle tiktok sound sue me

Charlie's whiteboard drawing:

Chapter 21: The Rules (Aren't) Black and White

Summary:

Charlie learns you can’t fix addiction with glitter and slogans.

Notes:

TWs
Discussion of why Angel and Molly started doing drugs

cocaine and heroin are mentioned by name

drugs as a coping mechanism

Implied murder

unhealthy family dynamics.

 

You two follow me!” The twins exchanged looks as they followed Charlie into the living room. In front of then was a whiteboard with the word “drugs” written on it with a crossed out circle over it. Molly turned to Angel

“Is she fucking serious?” Angel nodded

“Unfortunately. Yeah. She is.”

Molly took a seat on the couch, both sets of arms crossed and expression skeptical. Angel plopped down beside her, slouching with an expression of bored resignation. Charlie stood in front of the whiteboard, her eyes bright with determination. She had instructed the others to leave them alone during this time as she claimed it was to keep these meetings "anonymous" 

“Today, we’re going to talk about why drugs are bad and how we can avoid them,” Charlie began, her voice full of cheery resolve. “And remember, it’s not just about staying away from drugs—it's about finding healthy ways to deal with your emotions and living a fulfilling life!"

Molly scoffed “Doll we know they’re bad for us. We know why we shouldn’t do them. This ain’t news.”

Charlie nodded slowly “um right. Which is why you should stop doing them!” She said trying to agree with Molly.

Molly leaned further back into the couch, her expression skeptical. "Okay, Princess, I gotta ask. Have you ever actually dealt with addiction? Like, really dealt with it?"

Charlie’s eyes widened. "Well, no, but—"

Molly cut her off with a sharp look. "So you’ve got no idea what it’s like, then? You think it's just a matter of choice and willpower, don’t ya? That you just wake up one day and decide, 'I’m gonna not do drugs,' and then 'Poof!'—all fixed?"

Charlie’s cheerful demeanor faltered. "Well, I—“

“Cause that’s not how it fucking works,” Molly interrupted, her voice rising. "Addiction isn’t a choice, it’s a hell of a lot more complicated. It’s not like flipping a switch and saying ‘I’m done.’ It’s a fucking struggle, and it doesn’t go away just because someone draws a happy picture on a whiteboard!"

Angel shifted uneasily. "Molly, maybe—"

“No, Tony,” Molly snapped, cutting him off.

“Charlie needs to hear this. You can’t just pretend that throwing a few pretty words and drawings at us is gonna solve anything.”

Charlie looked taken aback, her smile now replaced with a look of genuine confusion and hurt. “I’m just trying to help. I thought this would be a good start—”

“No,” Molly said firmly. “You’re not helping by glossing over the reality of addiction. It’s a fucking disease, not a personal failing. We didn’t do drugs just because they were fun. We did them to escape. Hell we started drinking and shit when we were what? 12?” she said looking at her brother for confirmation. Angels eyes were trained on the floor

Charlie’s eyes widened in shock. “Angel is that true?”

“Uh. Yeah. It is.”

“Why... what made you start?” She asked

Molly looked between Charlie and Angel surprised

“Wait You ain’t told em? Pretty sure we both know that’s a big part of why you’re down here fratello”

Angel winced.

“Told us what?” Charlie asked. “Were you an uh… adult performer on earth too?” Angel let out a humorless laugh at that.

“No toots. I worked for my pops.”

“In the mafia right? So what was it you did?”

Molly looked at Charlie in disbelief “are you fuckin’ serious?” Charlie looked surprised at the outburst

“I mean I’m just asking-“

“I was a fucking hitman alright!” Angel snapped. the room went deadly silent

Charlie’s eyes widened in shock. “But you said you started using drugs when you were twelve?”

“Yeah I did.”

“So you-“

“Yes.”

“But why?” Charlie asked

“Why what?”

“Why did you kill that person?” Angel began to tremble like a leaf. Molly saw red

“The fuck is wrong with you” She shouted. The princess looked taken aback

“I-“

“He didn’t have a fucking choice! The mob controlled our lives. We was kids Princess. Our pops was deep in mob shit and he and our older brother was our only family. So yeah We did what our father told us to do. When you’re that young and you’re thrown into a life of crime, you need something to dull the pain. Something to make you forget. And you ain’t got no right to judge us.”

Charlie’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry- I I didn’t-“

“Not to mention that shit youse consider hard drugs now was fucking legal back then. Cocaine, heroin, you could get that shit at your local pharmacy. Hell the drug I was addicted to was a fucking mix of opium and alcohol I could buy a bottle of for a dollar. We did them for fun sometimes sure. But they were always an escape first.” Molly informed her. She looked at her brother trying to check in on him. Angel gave her a weak smile of before clearing his throat

His voice trembled slightly. “Molly’s right Char Char. We was trying to survive, and the drugs were, a way to handle the things we couldn’t talk about. I’m not proud of the things I did. But I didn’t start using drugs just for fun.”

Charlie’s eyes filled with tears, her heart breaking for them. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea… I thought drugs were just a choice people made…” Molly huffed.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs grabbed the attention of all three of them. Emily, looking slightly less haggard appeared, squinting in the light

“Em? What are you doin’ up?” Molly asked surprised to see the seraph out of bed

“I heard shouting.” Emily said, her voice sounding rough. “Is everything okay?” The three of them exchanged glances

“Uh. Yeah toots. Just doing some role-play stuff.” Molly rolled her eyes at his wording

“Molly joined my drug rehab program!” Charlie added trying to sound cheerful. That seemed to perk Emily up

“Oh good! I’m so excited you’re starting to work towards redemption so we can go back to heaven!”

The spider stared at her

“Go back?” She repeated

 

 

Notes:

PSA: if you're going to do drugs, please do them responsibly. and remember, harm reduction saves lives.

it's 11:25 PM my time! I technically posted it on Friday

(I’m sorry I had to finish two reports for work lol)

Chapter 22: The Home We Seek

Summary:

Emily was raised in heaven. And going to hell didn’t change that (and the damage it did).

Spiderphim/Heavenly Spider ANGST

Notes:

*Runs away from angry mob* Okay I know it posted this late. tbh I’m probably going to have to change the updates to "weekends" instead of fridays as my full time job is making it hard to have time to write during week

I have BIG THINGS planned soon for this story.

“Oh good! I’m so excited you’re starting to work towards redemption so we can go back to heaven!”

The spider stared at her

“Go back?” She repeated

---

Emily, seemingly oblivious to Molly’s lack of enthusiasm, nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I mean, that’s why we're here, right? To get redeemed and go back home!”

Molly, stunned into silence, struggled to process her response. After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke. “Em, I don’t think you’re in the right mindset for this conversation right now. You should probably sleep off those drinks first—”

Emily cut her off, crossing her arms defiantly. “Ugh, stop it! Just tell me what’s really going on! You promised me, Molly. You promised you’d never lie to me.”

The spider winced at Emily’s words. “Em, I don’t...want to go back to Heaven.”

Emily stared at her, horrified. “What?”

“After what they did to us? What they did to you?” Molly’s voice was heavy with disillusionment.

“But Heaven’s our home!” Emily insisted.

Molly shook her head firmly. “No. My home is here. With my brother, with our friends. If you want to go back to Heaven, fine. I’m staying here.”

“Why are you acting like this?” Emily’s frustration was evident.

Molly turned to her. “Acting like what?”

“Acting like…” Emily gestured around, searching for the right words. “You know…”

Molly crossed her upper set of arms, unyielding. “No, I don’t think I do, Emily.”

“Acting like a sinner, okay! Is that what you want me to say?” Emily’s words cut through the tension. Molly, Charlie, and Angel stared at her, taken aback.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” Emily asked, confused and defensive.

Charlie stepped forward, hurt evident in her voice. “I guess I just thought you were different.”

Emily frowned. “What?”

“With all your talk about supporting redemption,” Charlie continued, “I thought maybe you’d see that these are just people.”

“They are!” Emily retorted. “I just don’t like seeing Molly act like... like them.”

“Them, huh?” Angel said, rising to his feet with a glare.

“I-I didn’t mean—”

“No, I think you did,” the male spider interrupted, stepping closer to the seraphim, his finger jabbing towards her chest. “You think you’re better than us, don’tcha?”

“Angel! What the hell are you doing?” Vaggie’s voice cut through the confrontation, her spear at the ready.

“Vaggie! Oh, thank goodness, you’ll understand what I’m saying!” Emily exclaimed, embracing the fallen exorcist. Vaggie pried herself free from the hug.

“What are you talking about? I came down here because all I’ve been hearing is shouting for the past hour.”

“Emily wants to go back to Heaven,” Molly said flatly. Vaggie’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Are you outta your mind?” she demanded.

Emily’s eyes filled with hurt. “I-I-I’m leaving!” She declared, her resolve firm.

“Oh, and where are you gonna go?” Angel snapped, trying to call her bluff.

Emily turned to him, her eyes glowing red. “Somewhere where I can try and contact Sera,” she said firmly before flying out the front door.

Emily's departure left a charged silence in the room. The door slammed behind her with a force that echoed the gravity of the situation. Molly’s voice wavered with urgency as she reached out for Emily's retreating figure. “Emily, don’t do this!” Her voice cracked, desperation mingling with frustration.

Determined to follow, Molly dashed toward the door. In a moment of impulse, she tried to leap into the air but instead stumbled and crashed to the ground.

The impact was jarring. For a moment, Molly lay there, stunned and disoriented. Her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. The absence of her wings, a detail she had momentarily forgotten, struck her with a sharp sense of loss.

Charlie rushed to her side, helping her sit up. “Molly, are you okay?”

Molly brushed off Charlie’s concern with a shaky laugh, masking her inner turmoil. “Yeah, I’m fine, toots. Just... forgot I ain’t flying anywhere no more.”

“The hell is she thinking? She ain’t gonna make it out there,” Angel muttered, his anger from earlier turning to concern.

“We have to find her!” Vaggie agreed.

“I’ll organize a search party—Husk—”

“Don’t,” Charlie interrupted. The group turned to her in surprise. “Something tells me we’re not going to change her mind. If she wants to try, we need to let her. Besides, she’s a seraphim, right? Like my dad? I think we need to trust she can handle herself.”

“Charlie, you can’t be serious!” Angel began to protest.

“She’s right,” Molly said quietly, cutting her brother off. “Em’s got a real complicated relationship with Heaven. The harder we push her away, the more she’s gonna dig her heels in. I should’ve realized that.” Regret laced her voice.

“Molly, this ain’t your fault,” Angel said, reaching out to touch her, sensing her guilt. She shrugged him off, barely suppressing a wince. Why did it feel like her wings hurt?

“I know. I just... can you give me some space, please? I just... I need to think.”

“Sure!” Charlie said, her cheerfulness forced. “Angel, now that I know my methods weren't helping, why don’t we go and discuss ways that might actually help you tackle your drug habits?” The spider reluctantly followed her, muttering under his breath.

Molly began to get up, cursing as the pain in her back flared.

“It’s your wings, right?” Vaggie asked.

Molly shot her a glare. “Oh, rub it in why don’t ya? You have wings. I don’t.”

Vaggie rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about phantom pain, idiot.”

Molly stared at her blankly. “Phantom pain? Ya mean a ghost’s causing this?”

Vaggie let out a noise of frustration. “No. I mean it still feels like you have wings sometimes, and they hurt.”

Molly stiffened but didn’t respond.

“Yeah. It’s a real pain in the ass,” Vaggie acknowledged.

“Oh, and what would you know about it?” Molly hissed.

“Lute ripped off my wings when I got down here,” Vaggie said bluntly. The spider’s head shot up. She looked at Vaggie’s large white wings before meeting the fallen exorcist’s eyes, her gaze full of distrust.

“Nice try. Maybe hide your wings the next time you try and pull that card,” Molly snapped.

Vaggie clenched her fists. “What’s your problem with me?”

Molly let out a humorless laugh. “Where do I even start?

Notes:

Smacks Emily on the head “This seraphim can hold so much religious trauma and trauma bonds in her!”

Also the revelation of Molly/Vaggie beef soon

Chapter 23: “They’re bloodthirsty and deranged”

Summary:

The two guard dogs hash things out.

Notes:

In the non canon pilot; angel makes the "daddy" joke and Pentious replies "son?"

therefore I have decided Pentious has a son.

Vaggie clenched her fists 
“What is your problem with me?” She demanded 
Molly let out a humorless laugh
“Where do I even start?”

---

“What is it the exorcist thing? Because news flash. Im not doing that anymore.” Vaggie said crossing her arms. Molly glared at her 

“It ain't that. I mean- well… it is but that ain’t the main thing. Listen ya wanna hash this out? Can we go into the parlor at least? We look fucking stupid standin’ in front of the door.” 

“Fine.” Vaggie said gruffly muttering under her breath as she followed the spider.

“Spill.” She demanded
Molly clenched her fists. 

“You continue to encourage your girlfriend’s nonsense despite knowing what heaven is like. Fuck, you know what angels are like. You were one of the ones who committed genocide year after year. So ya wanna know why I have issues with you? Because you haven’t shut this shit down.” Vaggie  stared at the angry spider 

“I believe in Charlie’s mission.” She started 

“Her mission to what? Get sinners up to heaven? Then what huh?” Vaggie looked puzzled 

“What do you mean.” Molly huffed disbelievingly.

“Ya snake boy Pentious? He made it up there alright. You know the one thing he wanted to do when he got to heaven?” She pressed

“He wanted to find his son.” Vaggie said recalling the snake occasionally mentioning the boy.

“Yeah.” Molly said bitterly. “And he found ‘im alright. He found a kid who had no idea who he was. Do you know what that does to a person? Realizing ya family has forgotten you?” 

“We…I didn’t think about…” Vaggie began

“Yeah. I can  fucking tell. All you and princess cares about is getting people into heaven. Well bitch take it from me. Heaven ain’t paradise.”
Vaggie stepped forward until she was face to face with the spider 

“Real bold of you to call me a bitch when all you’ve been is rude and belligerent down here. Would it fucking kill you to try and be nice once in a while?” Molly howled with laughter as she turn and sat down on one of the couches

“What the fuck is so funny?” Vaggie demanded crossing her arms as the spider continued doubling over with laugher. Molly collected herself after a moment, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Being nice is exactly what got me killed.” The spider confessed.  

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense.” Vaggie said disbelief evident in her voice. Molly hummed in agreement 

“I was nice for the entire twenty-five years I lived on earth. I was charmin’, I was sweet, I never raised my voice at nobody. And ya wanna know where that got me? Married to a fuckin’ drunk who beat the shit outta me until I killed myself. So yeah. I’m not nice anymore. Cause I decided when I got to heaven I wasn’t gonna be nobody’s doormat.” Vaggie was silent as she took that information in 

“What no snide remark?” Molly demanded crossing her arms 

Vaggie reached out her hand, attempting to place it on Molly’s shoulder. Her heart jumped as Molly flinched away from her

“Shit sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“I aint fuckin’ scared.” Molly hissed defensively, but her eyes told a different story 

“I just mean I didn’t mean to make you flinch”

“I didn’t fucking flinch —fuck—fine— when someone raises their hand close to my face, what do you think i’m going to do?” The spider snapped. Vaggie stepped back, her hands in a placating gesture. She silently walked over and sat next to the spider.  
“

"I'm sorry.” She said finally

“What?” Molly asked 

“I was wrong to call you rude and belligerent. I mean,  I mean, I’m one to talk right? And you’re right. We should have considered what would happen to a soul who made it to heaven.” The fallen exorcist offered, trying to make peace. Molly was stunned  

“Gotta say of all reactions; I wasn’t expetin’ ya to apologize.” She muttered. Vaggie shrugged 

“What can I say? I guess Charlie’s rubbing off on me.” Molly chuckled 

“Ya really are smitten for princess huh?” She said, but there was no bite behind it. Vaggie smiled 

“Yeah. Just like you are for Emily.” She teased. Molly blushed as pink as her hair 

“Shut up.” She muttered. Vaggie chuckled before recalling something from earlier 

“You know how I told you I lost my wings when I got down here?” She asked. The spider looked at her confused 

“I mean yeah- but It still don’t make no sense to me how-“

“I wasn’t lying. I got my wings ripped off by Lute during an extermination because I spared a child. But, I got them back fighting for love. Fighting for Charlie’s sake.” Molly laughed quietly. 
“what?” Vaggie asked 

“That. Is the gayest shit I’ve ever heard.” Molly said mirth in her eyes. Vaggie groaned 

“I just mean, you can probably get your wings back too.” Molly shrugged with a wince before shaking her head 

“Don’t think so. Sera cut mine off with an angelic blade.” She said bitterly. Vaggie grimaced in sympathy.  

“Shit. Yeah probably not then. I lost my eye to an angelic spear and that hasn’t come back.” Molly hummed before turning to the shorter fallen angel 

“Hey Vaggie, does the love shit work for demons too?” Vaggie shrugged “I mean yeah, Charlie transformed to protect the hotel. And Lucifer did to protect Charlie. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” The spider replied,  committing that piece of information to memory. 

Chapter 24: The things that I say just might matter to someone

Summary:

Flashback to Emily and Molly in Heaven. Slight insight into why Emily is the way she is.

(title from "you matter to me" from waitress. very Molly x Emily song)

Notes:

CW:
emotional neglect (silent treatment)
dysfunctional family dynamics

1942 - Year 5 of Molly in heaven

 

Molly sat on a bench in the promenade watching the other once-human angels and higher ups of heaven go past. She had found one of her favorite things to do here was people watch. Or well… angel watch. she could always spot a newly arrived angel by the clumsy way they moved; still adjusting to their wings. Most of all she liked to watch couples. It was still strange to find out in heaven, love of all kinds was encouraged. But it gave her hope. That maybe someday Anthony would join her up here and be allowed to love.

She was startled out of her daydreaming when she heard the court room doors slam open, then shut.

Sera regal as always paraded down the promenade her head held high in a haughty manner. After a moment the doors opened again and the hyperactive blur; Emily raced after her

“Sera wait!” The older seraphim ignored her and continued walking. Emily took to the air in order to catch up. Molly watched

“Sera please I’m sorry- it wont happen again.” The older seraphim stopped and turned to Emily. But said nothing

“Sera please!” Emily begged tears beginning to stream down her cheeks

“I’ll be better please just say something. Talk to me please!” The older seraphim remained silent.

After a while of Emily begging for sera to speak and apologizing and the seraphim pointedly ignoring her, Sera transformed into her full angelic form and flew upwards before disappearing. Emily’s wings drooped as she wiped her face, clearly distressed. Molly felt a pang in her chest. She hesitated before walking towards the seraphim

“Hey uh. You alright?” Emily sniffed before giving Molly a huge fake smile

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” Molly crossed her arms

“Bullshit.” She said simply. Emily frowned at her

“I told you, you’re not allowed to speak like that up here.” Molly shrugged

“Rather I not speak at all?” She asked pointedly. Emily went stiff

“How much of that did you hear?” She asked timidly

“Enough to know prissy pants up there's being an ass.” Emily sniffed but didn’t respond

“Shit you are upset.” Molly muttered “didn’t call me out for my language that time.” Emily turned and walked towards a bench before collapsing onto it. Burying her face in her hands. Molly cautiously approached

“So uh. Wanna talk bout it?” She asked. Emily raised her eyes and looked at her

“Why do you care?” She asked her voice full of hurt. Molly shrugged

“Seen ya a lot up here. Never seen you cry though.” She said as she took a seat next to the seraphim

“I…I made a mistake.” Emily said quietly. Molly was confused

“Okay?” She asked. Emily sniffled

“Angel’s don’t make mistakes.” She said her voice cracking.

“Uh everyone makes mistakes.”

“No! We’re- I’m not supposed to.” Emily said wrapping her wings around herself.

“Okayyy. So whatcha do? Sing the wrong note in some hymn or something’” Molly questioned

“I yelled at Adam.” Emily admitted. Molly blinked surprised

“First man Adam?  Mister low-life show off?”

“You can’t talk about him like that!” Emily hissed.

“Fine. What he do to make ya yell at ‘im?”

“He- theres nothing he could have done that would excuse my behavior!” Emily said cutting herself off as fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

Molly was silent. The silence made Emily afraid that Molly too was now angry with her. She began to ramble

“He kept interrupting me and wouldn’t let me speak to the council. So I told him to shut his mouth.” She admitted. Molly let our a soft whistle

“Damn. ya got more spunk than I thought tiny.”

“You aren’t  horrified by my behavior?” Emily asked in disbelief. Molly raised an eyebrow

“Uh No? I mean, sounds like the bastard had it comin’. Ya spoke up for yourself. I don’t see nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Sera doesn’t see it that way. My job is to make people happy.”

“So what? Ya ain’t allowed to get frustrated?” Molly said with a laugh

“Exactly!” Emily said in agreement. Molly was slack jawed for a moment

“Wait ya serious?” Emily looked confused

“I mean. I guess. Okay- when do ya get to be off-duty?” She asked attempting to clarify

Emily wrinkled her face, the dots between her eyes furrowing

“I don’t?” She said looking at Molly like she had lost her mind

“So you’re telling’ me ya always gotta be happy?” Molly asked.

Emily nodded. Molly let out a soft whistle under her breath

“And when I don’t… it’s like I don’t exist.” Emily said quietly, her voice tiny. Molly felt sympathy fill her. She knew what it was like to feel invisible

Emily kept going, the words tumbling out of her

“Sera won’t talk to me and she convinces everyone on the council not to either. I don’t know how to make it up to them! I don’t know what I need to do to fix this! I-“

“Woah.” Molly said cutting her off

“I’m sorry I’m bothering you, I’m talking too much” Emily babbled

“It ain’t that. Ya know it’s not your job to figure out why they act like that right?” Emily blinked at her as the words began to process

“So what do you think I should do to fix this?” She asked. Molly shrugged

“Nothin”

“Nothing?” Emily repeated. Molly nodded before an idea came to her

“Well I guess one thing. Weren’t ya talking bout the zoo gettin’ some weird bear thing that eats leaves and climbs on people?

“The koalas!” Emily said, her eyes lighting up for the first time that day

“I think ya should tell me about ‘em while we go check them out.” She offered. Emily wiped her face

“Okay but tell me if I’m talking too much. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Ya wont. I like hearin’ ya talk.” Molly assured her, reaching out one of her hands to help the seraphim off the bench

Notes:

this is the update for this weekend fyi haha. was able to do it on a friday for once.

do u like me making sera an antagonist? do u think she will be an antagonist in season 2? let me know

Chapter 25: Are You There God? It's Me, Emily.

Summary:

Emily, post the chapter 22 argument. Also a flashback to The Fall ™️

Notes:

"Why would Emily want to go back to heaven?"

read on my friends

Emily flew, not knowing where she was headed, only that she needed to get away. Her vision blurred as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. A horrid stench hit her, causing her to pause momentarily, only to be met with screeching and cheers from below. Hundreds of sinners with razor-sharp teeth grinned up at her, taunting, jeering, and shouting things like:

 

“Fall!”

“Yum!”

“Dinner!”

“Somebody shoot her down!”

 

Emily narrowly dodged a dagger someone had thrown her way. How could Molly want to stay in such a place? She flew higher, speeding up until she nearly collided with the top of a clock tower. She managed to stop herself, landing on the ledge atop the clock face. This building looked... different from the rest of Hell.

She glanced around to ensure she hadn’t been followed before slowly beginning her descent. Beneath the clock face, a countdown timer read "36-," the last digit stuck halfway between 5 and 4. Guilt churned in her stomach. This was the Heaven Embassy. She pushed the feeling aside as she flew to the ground. If there was anywhere she could contact Heaven, it would be here.

Catching her reflection in a pane of glass as she approached the front door, she saw her red, puffy eyes, windswept hair, and dusty dress. Quickly, she attempted to make herself as presentable as possible as Sera’s voice echoed in her mind, “A seraphim must be neat, Emily. Appearance is everything. We have an image to uphold.” Her hands trembled.

Molly always disliked Sera’s teachings, but Sera only wanted Emily to be her best! Emily was sure of that. Fighting back her tears, she thought of Molly, squared her shoulders, and stepped inside.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but an immaculate, ornate lobby in purple, white, and gold, reminiscent of Heaven’s promenade, was not it. A pang of homesickness echoed in her chest.

“Hello?” she called, her voice echoing in the empty space. A golden bell on the desk caught her eye, and she quickly ran up to it and dinged it.

“Please, please, please…” she whispered, crossing her fingers. A scroll marked "Sign In" appeared with a golden quill. Emily hastily signed her name: “Emily Aemilius.”

The contract floated for a moment, giving her a glimmer of hope before it burst into flames. Emily let out a broken sob and fell to her knees.

“Sera, please. I’m sorry. Please, I just want to talk to you. Please, let me explain,” she begged silently. But there was no response.

Disappointed and emotionally exhausted, she made her way over to one of the couches, manifesting a journal in her hands. She recalled what had led her here in the first place.

Someone had hurt Molly. In 87 years of knowing her, Emily had only seen Molly go nonverbal twice. The first was when her twin brother died and failed to appear at the Golden Gates. The second was when she realized her mother, Maria, had forgotten her. It took a lot for Molly to become that distressed. How could she want to stay in a place where whatever monster had hurt her still roamed free?

Emily thought back to the information Molly had managed to share and began jotting down notes.

It was someone she hadn’t met, someone who had made Molly feel unsafe enough to seek refuge in Emily’s room.

Only three people Molly had mentioned in Heaven fit those criteria:

 

Her father—but no, Emily had already met him.

Her older brother—Nicholas, maybe?

And, her husband.

 

Molly had never shared much about him; Emily didn’t even know his name. But she could never forget the way Molly had broken down two days after arriving in Heaven when the outfit she’d been wearing suddenly transformed into the one she’d been buried in—a wedding gown.

Emily had ran and gotten Maria, who held her sobbing daughter close, rocking her gently for hours as the two spoke softly in Italian. Though Emily couldn’t understand the language, she could still feel the intensity of the moment. The way Molly’s voice repeatedly broke from emotion while Maria’s voice trembled with anger and sadness was unmistakable. Even without understanding the words, it was clear that whatever had happened to Molly had ignited a deep fury in Maria. The mother’s protective embrace and fierce tone spoke volumes about the gravity of the situation.

Emily fought down her rage as she recalled the way Molly’s father—no, Henroin, he wasn’t worthy of the title—had grabbed Molly by the throat and thrown his daughter across the room. The fear in Molly’s eyes had ignited a primal protective instinct in Emily.

A memory flooded her mind:

 

Flashback: Heaven’s Courtroom – The Trial of Sir Pentious

The newly redeemed snake fidgeted at the lectern as Lute questioned him.

“And can you tell the court what you did before you died?”

“I—I wassss… helping protect the hotel!” he hissed anxiously. Lute stomped forward, slamming her hands on the lectern, making Pentious recoil.

“I mean specifically, snake boy.”

“Lute!” Emily scolded. Sera raised her hand for silence.

“Answer the question, Pentious,” the High Seraphim ordered.

“I—I wassss going to try and blassst Adam with my war machinesss’ death ray,” he admitted. A shocked silence filled the room before Heaven’s higher-ups erupted in outrage. Lute smirked smugly at Emily as Pentious shrank into himself.

“As you see, Sera, this slimy snake is no more than a murderer. You should throw him out of Heaven just as you did his serpentine predecessor, Lucifer,” Lute declared. The crowd murmured, some in agreement, others uncertain. Anger welled up in Emily.

“He was defending himself and his friends! He died trying to protect them!” she argued. All eyes turned to her. Lute crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

“So, you think Pentious deserves to be up here?”

“Yes!” Emily affirmed. Lute hmphfed in response.

“Hear that, everyone? Emily thinks the attempted murderer of Heaven’s own first man deserves to be in Heaven. Some seraphim you are.”

Emily stormed forward until she stood face-to-face with Lute. “You’re one to talk! You and Adam went down and murdered innocent souls year after year! Thousands of them! So yes, I think Pentious dying defending his friends from your and Adam’s hedonistic extermination is a just reason for him to be in Heaven.”

“So, you think Adam deserved to die?” Lute’s eyes narrowed.

“I—I… that’s not what I said!” Emily stammered.

“Answer the question, Emily.” The seraphim froze, realizing it was Sera who had posed the question.

“N-no. I don’t think he deserved to die! I do, however, think that… well, he deserved to go to Hell much more than Pentious did!” she argued. Sera’s eyes flared.

“You dare insinuate Adam deserved Hell?” Sera asked, flying down before her apprentice. Emily refused to back down

“Yes. I do,” she said firmly.

“And for that, you shall fall.” A sharp pain struck her, and she fell to the floor as Sera slapped her with one of her large wings.

“Emily!” a shout broke out. Molly, who had managed to sneak into the courtroom illegally, ran to her girlfriend’s side. “I’m fine,” the seraphim attempted to reassure her, but Molly wasn’t hearing any of it. She turned on Sera.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” she hissed. Emily choked back a gasp as the crowd erupted into chaos. No one spoke to the High Seraphim like that.

“You dare speak to me that way?” Sera questioned.

“Yeah, I do. Emily’s right. Your rules are dumb. Ya think youse can just go down and kill people and not expect ’em to defend themselves?”

“Insolent girl. There is much you do not know,” Sera remarked.

“Yeah, but I sure do know one thing. You and these fuckers are a buncha hypocrites. Ya wanna throw Em outta Heaven? Well, ya better throw me too, ’cause I’d gladly go down there than spend another second with you lot. Y know what?  Fuck you, Sera.” Emily gasped.

“Molly, don’t!” she tried, but it was too late. Sera grabbed a nearby exorcist’s spear and, with one fell swoop, sliced off Molly’s wings. Her scream echoed around the chamber as she fell to the ground, her wings floating down before burning to ash with a flick of Sera’s wrist.

“Arrest them,” Sera ordered. Lute and other exorcists obeyed, roughly shackling the two angels. Lute grabbed Molly by the shoulder, seemingly relishing the way the spider sobbed in pain. They led them past the gates, turning them to face the entrance to Heaven. Sera stood before the gates, emotionally unfazed.

“You broke the rules, Emily. And for that, you cannot go unpunished.” She flapped her wings, causing a blast of magic to knock the two angels off the passageway. Molly screeched in fear, unable to fly. Emily managed to magic away the shackles and dove down, grabbing Molly, who bit back a sob, eyes squeezed tight.

“It’s me!” Emily reassured her, adjusting her grip until she hugged the spider tightly around the waist. Molly buried her head in Emily’s shoulder.

“I thought I was going to die again,” she whispered in the seraphim’s ear.

“I won’t let that happen. I swear, Molly. I’ll always protect you.” The second half of the statement was lost to the wind as Emily outstretched her wings; determined to slow their descent.

— End of Flashback—

 

The memory faded, pulling Emily back to the present.

She recalled the anger in Molly’s eyes when she had blurted out that she was acting like a sinner. She regretted it now, not even sure where the words had come from. But the thought of Molly being deemed irredeemable terrified her. Someone had hurt Molly down here, and if Emily didn’t act soon, Molly would be trapped in this place—vulnerable to abuse, exploitation, or worse. If the exterminations were reintroduced, she could be killed. Emily knew she could fend off the exorcists, but Molly? Sure, she was good with a gun, as Emily had witnessed firsthand, but she feared the exorcists would target Molly for her heavenly betrayal.

Emily squeezed her eyes shut and offered one final, desperate prayer.

“God? Father? I don’t know if You can hear me down here. I don’t know if You’ll listen to a fallen angel. I know I’ve disappointed You, but please, please forgive Molly. I only ask for her protection. I can manage down here if that’s my fate, but don’t let her suffer for my mistake.” Silence.

Typical, a voice in the back of her mind sneered. She pushed it aside. She would not become an unbeliever.

Exhausted, she lay down on the couch and drifted into sleep.

Notes:

Emily & Esmerelda Hunchback of notre dame "God help the outcasts" connections go brrrrrrr

Virtual cookies for anyone who can figure out and comment why I made Emily's last name
"Aemilius"
(hint. Lucifer Morningstar)

Chapter 26: Welcome to Wonderland

Summary:

You didn’t think I forgot about Arackniss and Henroin did you?

Notes:

Wonderland: In Hell, Wonderland is a region where the dark energy from sinners’ deaths has accumulated, merging with the ground to create a living, sentient landscape. This buildup of dark energy has given rise to some of the most horrifying and dangerous monsters, making Wonderland one of the most perilous and unsettling parts of Hell. It is a concept Viviziepop has toyed with (details from Hazbin wiki)

Arackniss sat in the limo unbuttoning  and rebuttoning his cuff buttons. He allowed himself to glance at them for just a moment.

Affixed to the gold buttons was a tiny enamel portrait. A smiling human woman sat holding a little girl on her lap, a slightly older boy stood standing at his mother’s side, holding the hand of his little brother. His hands trembled as he remembered the day his mother had tried to give them to his father.

 

Flashback —— June 5, 1917; Arackniss (Nico) age 9, the twins age 5.

They all stood at the train station. Nico watched his mamma fight back tears as she watched papa load his bag onto the train.

Enrico walked over. “It’s just training love. We don’t know if i’ll even be sent over there.” Maria concentrated hard, but eventually shook her head.

“Io non capisco." She admitted her eyes shiny. Enrico huffed

“Stupid woman.” He muttered under his breath. Nico clenched his fists. Mamma wasn’t stupid. She just wasn’t around enough English speakers to pick it up.

Maria knew that first word well enough. Her head drooped slightly, but she maintained a smile for the sake of her children. Molly and Anthony stood on either side of her holding her hands, wide eyed and confused as to what was happening. Nico elbowed Anthony as he saw his baby brothers thumb approach his mouth, a habit their father despised. 

Enrico sighed and switched to Italian "Ho detto, sono stato arruolato solo per l'addestramento, non sappiamo se sarò mandato all'estero."

["I said, I've only been drafted for trainin' we don't know i’ll be sent overseas.”]

Maria nodded. Remaining strong despite the fear that tumbled through her. Enrico had been drafted to serve in WW1.

"Ti aspetterò."

[i’ll wait for you]  she promised

Enrico’s eyes flashed with anger for a moment before he let out a forced chuckle

“Ma certo che lo farai. Chi altro sopporterebbe le tue sciocchezze?"

[well of course ya will. who else would put up with ya nonsense?]

Maria smiled and stepped forward, letting go of the twins hands, looking up for permission before pressing a kiss to Enrico’s lips.

He turned to go. Maria caught his sleeve

“Aspetta! Ho qualcosa per te."

["Wait! I have something for you”] She said pulling out a small box from her pocket.

Enrico’s face hardened as he opened the box to reveal the custom designed cuff buttons

Maria waited for his reaction anxiously. She had spent weeks doing extra laundry for neighbors and watching other kids to earn up enough to buy them

“You spend my money on these?” Enrico asked, his voice barely suppressing rage. Maria looked confused and slightly panicked

“My money!” She said quickly. She knew that word. Money. They always fought about money. Enrico scoffed

“Sure it was.”

“Papa it was! I saw mamma-“ Nico started. His father slammed the box shut and fixed him a glared

“Did I ask you to speak boy?” Nico shut his mouth and shook his head. Enrico reached his hand out and dropped the case to the ground a disgusted look on his face.

"I bottoni dei polsini non mi aiuteranno sul campo di battaglia." he stated before stomping off onto the train. [“Cuff buttons aint gonna help me on the battlefield.”]

Once out of sight, Maria let the tears fall. Nico quickly picked up the box, tucking it into his pocket. Molly walked over and tugged at Nico’s wrist

"Perché papà non ha detto addio?"

[“Why didn’t Papa say goodbye?”] she asked. Nico didn’t have an answer.

— flashback ends —

 

“Mr. Arackniss? Mr. Arackniss Sir?” The driver asked timidly. They had arrived outside their destination in the doomsday district. Arackniss cleared his throat.

“Yes? What is it?” He barked. The timid imp ducked his head

“I just wanted to let you know we arrived sir. You’d been staring into space and I wanted to make sure you were okay?”

“The workings of my mind are not your concern.” He snapped. The imp nodded.

“Right of course sir. Um what time would you like me to be back”

“You’ll come back when I call for you.” Arackniss said leaving no room for discussion as he excited the limo. The driver nodded and quickly took his exit.

Arackniss brushed off his pants and stood to his full 3’10 height. Curse me for being so cocky about my height in life. Was a thought that often ran through his head. Nevertheless, he affixed an emotionless expression and began the walk towardsa specific part of the Doomsday district; Wonderland.

He approached the barbed wire fences, nodding to the security guards who let him pass without question. A large population sign ticked from 100,007 to 100,008. Arackniss fought back the urge to bolt as he continued ahead.

The Wonderland factory was a monstrosity within itself. The deep burgundy walls of the factory seemed to be almost an organic matter within themselves, pulsing and writhing as thick toxic smoke in every color extruded from holes at the top. Around it was a huge complex. that could only be described as a cess pit, constantly changing and growing new horrific creations as if the land was feeding off the suffering of Hell itself. A large eye opened its lid as arackniss approached. It turned and blinked at him before a sideways mouth opened and he stepped inside his father’s magnum opus.

The top producing illicit drug factory in all of Hell.

Arackniss stepped forward until he could see through the glass viewing window.

Inside was bleak. It was terrifyingly sterile, with the exception of the eyes on the walls that watched the hundreds of thousands of workers. The workers, empty husks of hellborn and sinners alike, slaved away at the various machines and contraptions that bubbled and extruded noxious fumes into the air. Addicts, working to be paid with the very drugs they made. Arackniss winced as he noticed the low hanging pink fog that floated above them. A shout caught his attention

“The fuck are ya doing? Your output is down 3%!” Arackniss stared as a sinner trembled before a guard in a black hazmat suit

“I- I- I didn’t mean-“

“No excuses! Ya know what this means dontcha?” Arackniss recognized that voice. Lorenzo, he realized.

“Please please no-“

“Listen up you fucks! This lazy dog has earned himself a stay in the withdrawal room! So unless you wanna be next, GET TO WORK!” The sinner screamed and begged for mercy as two more guards appeared and dragged him off. Workers frantically picked up the pace. Arackniss fought down the bile in his throat

 

“Ah. My boy. How good to see you.” Arackniss turned to see his father, Henroin, the drug overlord himself.

“Henroin.” He said gibing him a curt nod.

“Now now Nico, is there really such a need for such formalities?” The scorpion-spider asked. Arackniss looked his father in the eye

“Respectfully sir, you asked me heard for a business meeting. Overlord to overlord. So yes, I believe this is a formal occasion.” The older man seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding and gesturing him to follow. Arackniss did so and took a seat in the large ornate office his father kept. 

“So. Is ya casino doing well?” He asked. Arackniss nodded

“It is performin’ optimally yes sir.”

“Good. At least one of my sons has made a name for himself.” Arackniss fought back the retort that Angel Dust’s name was better known than both of theirs combined. He wasn’t here to start a fight.

“You called me here for a business opportunity.” The shorter aracknid said, attempting to get right down to business.

Henroin chuckled

“You sure ain't one to waste time. Yes I am. See Ive recently come into the possession of a chemist who can produce a drug I haven't been able to carry in a long time.” Henroins smile grew maliciously. Arackniss’s heart dropped.

“Ya don’t mean-“

“H-8? Sure fuckin’ do.” Arackniss’s heart pounded in his chest. H-8 or “Hate” was the most destructive drug Henroin had ever unleashed. It triggered overwhelming surges of aggression, removed all inhibitions, and dulled any sense of empathy. In other words, it transformed people into uncontrollable violent rage monsters, who experienced a euphoric high from the very acts of violence they committed.

Henroin continued

“Thought I was shit outta luck since my last chemist who could make it died three exterminations ago. But wouldn'cha know, somebody just… fell into my lap.” Arackniss steadied himself and began to speak

“Are you sure that’s wise? I mean- that drug, it’s-“

“My chance at gaining more power yes.” Henroin said cutting him off.

“And I want you to join me.” Arackniss felt his hands begin to sweat

“Join you?” His father nodded his smile becoming almost sadistic

“Of course.  Youse, me, and Molly. We’s could be a real family again. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Arackniss noted but didn’t point out his father’s exclusion of Angel.

“I would need some time to think it over. From a business perspective you understand” Henroin didn’t look pleased with this answer but didn’t protest.

“Well then. I suppose you can be on your way.”

“Wait- one more thing. Who is your new chemist?” Arackniss asked. Henroin chuckled. He grabbed an intercom mic

“BAXTER!” he shouted

 

Notes:

"Fuck you Henroin!" we all say in unison

Btw H-8 is the stuff BarbieWire was reportedly addicted to that Blitzo is relieved to find out she is no longer on.

Chapter 27: You Don't Know

Summary:

SpiderPhim ANGST

Aka the girls struggle without each other

 

✩Title is from Next to Normal (best musical ever but PLEASE read about it before listening/watching)

✩Translations are provided at the end of the chapter under a drop-down. But I think the English responses give enough context to understand what the character is saying.

✩Credit to @a-whisper-in-the-forest on tumblr, whose prompt called "Useless" heavily inspired the Molly & Husk scene

Notes:

CW:

This chapter contains non-graphic discussions of:

• Substance Abuse: Drug use, relapses, harm reduction, and addiction effects.
• Emotional Distress: Grief, frustration, and feelings of hopelessness (non-suicidal).
• Mockery and Derision: Cruel taunts and mocking language (no derogatory terms).
• Mental Health Struggles: Anxiety, depression, and emotional instability.
• Loss and Betrayal: Abandonment, betrayal, and the impact of loss on relationships.

Please be mindful of these elements as they may affect some readers.

Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since Emily flew off. To say the hotel was concerned was an understatement. Not about Emily—Lucifer had confirmed multiple times that she was physically alright. It was Molly they were worried about. While the spider had initially agreed it was wise to let Emily work through her emotions about Heaven on her own, it soon became clear she was starting to spiral. Angel organized a small intervention and begged everyone to make sure Molly was never left alone.

“I don’t want her relapsin’” he had explained, his voice heavy with pain.

They all agreed, except maybe Al and Niffty—Al didn’t seem to care, and they weren’t sure if Niffty fully understood. Angel had been doing better with his own drug use, thanks to Charlie’s “harm reduction” approach (despite Vaggie’s protests that she was merely enabling Angel’s habits). Charlie had hired a chauffeur to take Angel to and from work, paying them by the hour in case work ran late. Now, everyone (willing) at the hotel carried emergency medication Charlie had imported from Sloth, which could help mitigate an overdose. While it wouldn’t kill you outright, an overdose could cause sinners to undergo regeneration, a process Angel acknowledged was extremely painful. He also carried Post-it notes, clean syringes, and fentanyl tests with him to reduce the harm of using various drugs at work.

The limo carrying Angel had left just a few hours ago. He shot Charlie a look before leaving when he saw his sister already sitting at the bar.

“Please, un altro drink.” Molly slurred, pushing her empty glass over the counter.

“No, you’ve had enough,” Husk said, pulling the glass out of her reach. Molly whined.

“Please,” she begged, as Husk noticed actual tears forming in her eyes. He sighed and poured Molly a glass of water. She immediately pushed it back.

“No, no water. I want booze. Non mi interessa quale tipo.” Husk pushed the water back toward her.

“Well, I do care. It’s 11 a.m., kid. You’ve had more than enough. I know you stole a bottle of gin last night. So now you’re only getting water.”

“Oh, come on. Just a bit more alcool. Non è come se avessi una bussola morale.” Molly begged, laying her head on the counter, propping it up with her upper arms. Husk leaned forward, his forearms on the counter, until he could look her in the eyes.

“I do have a moral compass; it just doesn’t line up with yours. Besides, I’m not getting in trouble with Al because you want to give yourself alcohol poisoning.”

 

"Non posso morire di alcohol poisoning qui all’inferno” Molly slurred with a groan as she lifted her head. Husk sighed, his exasperation evident as he watched her struggle to stay upright.

“Just because it wont kill you doesn't mean it wont hurt like a bitch. Listen kid, I know you’re upset about Emily. But let me tell you, as someone who’s been looking for a long time, the answer isn’t at the bottom of that glass.”

Molly let out a frustrated grunt. "Lo so. But it still makes me feel..." She hesitated for a moment, her bleary eyes flickering with indecision before she settled on the word. "…meno," she decided, her voice trailing off as she buried her head back into her folded arms.

Husk couldn’t argue with that. Alcohol did, in fact, numb. He knew that better than most. He stared at her for a moment, his frustration fading into something closer to understanding. He'd spent decades drowning himself in booze, hoping to quiet the noise in his head, chasing that feeling of "less." Less pain, less regret.

“Yeah, kid, I get it,” he muttered softly, almost to himself. "But it catches up with you eventually." 

Charlie entered the room with Vaggie and her dad.

“Molly?” 

“Che cazzo vuoi?” she grumbled, her head still on the counter. Charlie looked to Husk confused. The bartender grunted 

"Parla inglese, ragazzo.” Molly blinked for a few seconds trying to process what Husk had said before repeating what she had said for the royals and Vaggie.

“What the fuck do you want?”

"We’re worried about you,” Charlie started. Molly shot her a glare.

“Cazzate. If ya were worried about me, your pops would tell me where Em is. I know you know,” she spat, glaring at the king. Lucifer looked visibly uncomfortable but didn’t deny it.

“Molly, it’s not that simple,” Charlie said gently, taking a cautious step closer. Vaggie stood by her side, arms crossed, watching with concern.

“Not that simple?” Molly repeated, her voice rising with anger. “What’s so complicated? You think she’s gonna come back if I just sit here sober and wait? She left me, Charlie! She accused me of acting like a sinner—a word that, in Heaven, carries a whole heap of negative weight—and left.”

Lucifer cleared his throat, drawing Molly’s heated gaze. He met her eyes but stayed silent, unwilling to reveal anything more. His usually short stature seemed smaller in that moment.

“She’s dealing with her own issues,” Vaggie cut in. “It’s not about you, Molly. Emily’s struggling with Heaven, with everything she left behind. Pushing her won’t bring her back faster.”

Molly scoffed, slamming her hand on the counter, making Husk jump in surprise. “Struggling? And what do ya think I’m doing, huh? I’m losing it down here! And nobody cares. You all just want me to be quiet and good. You're just as bad as Heaven.”

“That’s not true,” Charlie said softly, taking another step toward Molly. “We all care. But drowning yourself in alcohol isn’t going to fix this.”

Molly’s eyes flickered between Charlie and Lucifer, her body trembling with frustration. “You have no idea what it’s like, do you? Watching someone leave... every damn day wondering if they’re coming back.” Her voice cracked, but she tried to hide the tears that threatened to spill.

Charlie, with a heavy heart, exchanged a glance with her father. His expression was strained, but he nodded before stepping forward. “Molly, I understand loss better than you think. But this... this isn’t the way to cope,” he said gently.

Molly wiped her eyes with her upper arms, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Yeah? Well, maybe ya should teach me. Since you’re such an expert at copin’.” She looked at Lucifer once more, her eyes full of raw anger. “Or better yet, stop keepin’ secrets.”

Lucifer sighed deeply. “It’s not a matter of secrecy, Molly. Emily’s fate... it’s something even she has to come to terms with. She’s not in danger, but she’s facing choices that could affect us all.”

Molly shook her head in disbelief. “You’re all full of it.”

Charlie stepped closer, reaching out a hand, but Molly flinched, avoiding her touch. “Molly, please. I don’t want to see you hurt yourself.”

“I’m already hurt,” Molly whispered. “You just don’t see it. I’m fuckin’ broken. Have always been. Even Em’ could see that.”

Vaggie spoke up, her voice firm. “We’re not giving up on you, Molly. No matter how bad it gets. But you have to meet us halfway. We’re all here for you. You just have to let us in.”

Molly stayed quiet for a long moment, her head still resting on her folded arms. The room fell into an uneasy silence as everyone waited for her response.

Finally, she whispered, “If she don’t come back... what am I supposed to do?”

Charlie’s heart ached as she knelt beside Molly, looking up into her tear-filled eyes. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, together. But for now... just trust that she’s coming back. And let us help you until she does.”

Molly didn’t answer, but the flicker of something—maybe hope, maybe defeat—passed through her expression. Charlie stayed by her side, offering a quiet comfort as Husk passed her another glass of water.

“We’re not leaving you alone in this,” Charlie whispered, her voice full of sincerity.

 

---

 

The Heaven Embassy

 

Emily was once again kneeling on the cold white marble floor, her head bowed. If I just pray hard enough, she thought desperately. She had heard nothing. She thought her message had gone through at one point, but it was just Lucifer, popping in to make sure she was alright.

 

— Flashback: several days earlier

“I thought I might find you here.” Emily jumped at the voice. She turned to find the other fallen seraphim, and her shoulders drooped.

“Expecting someone else?” the king asked with a smile, attempting to lighten the mood. Emily made no verbal response as she slumped onto the step, burying her head in her hands. Lucifer sighed and took a seat next to her.

“Molly is worried about you,” he said gently. Emily’s head popped up.

“I don’t need her protection,” she said sharply. She was exhausted; it had been days since she had slept properly, instead spending all her time trying to contact any angel she thought might listen. The king hummed.

“I didn’t say you did,” he said. “But Heaven doesn’t listen, Emily.” She shot to her feet and glared at him.

“To you! They won’t listen to you!” But they—they have to—” she began to cry again. Lucifer got to his feet and approached her, reaching out for a hug before stopping himself, recalling Charlie’s boundary advice.

“Can I hug you?” he asked. Emily sniffled but nodded. He hugged the taller seraphim tightly. After a while, Emily let go, and an idea sparked in her mind.

“Can you contact Sera? You did before, right? When you got Charlie that meeting?” The king sighed.

“If I could, I would, Emily. But Heaven severed my communication with them after the Extermination Day battle.” The female seraphim nodded, disheartened by this news.

“I—I just need a few more days. Please don’t tell them where I am?” She asked, looking at the king. Lucifer hesitated.

“Please?” she begged. “You’re basically the only family I have down here. You’re the only one who understands. I just need more time.” Lucifer nodded in resignation.

“Alright. Unless I sense you’re in trouble

Emily held out her pinky finger and looked him in the eyes 

"Promise?" the king smiled as he linked pinkies with her. It was such a childish gesture, but between angels in heaven had held so much weight

"I promise."

— End of Flashback:

Emily sat back on her heels, finally deciding to call on the person she’d been dreading. She returned to her knees and began to pray:

"Lute, steadfast guardian of Heaven,
I call upon you now, not for protection, but for counsel.
Your wisdom in judgment, your clarity in purpose,
Guide me through the questions I carry.
Stand before me, unyielding as always,
So that together we may face the truth.
I seek your voice, your insight,
And the strength of your unwavering conviction.
Come to me, Lute, and let us speak."

Silence lingered. Emily was about to give up hope when one of the elevator doors opened. She ran to it and quickly entered the conference room. Lute appeared, clearly a hologram of herself, with a wide smirk on her face.

“So the traitor finally got desperate enough to call upon me, huh? It’s honestly pathetic how often you’ve been begging. It’s almost laughable.”

Emily took a deep breath, refusing to give in to Lute’s taunts.

“I want to speak to Sera,” she said firmly. Lute hummed for a moment, looking at her nails absently.

“No,” she said, completely unfazed. Emily’s eyes burned.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Lute rolled her eyes.

“Sera doesn’t want to waste her time on a traitor like you. Are you really trying to grovel your way back into Heaven? How delusional,” she said with mock sympathy.

“It’s not for me. I want to speak with her about...”

“Oh right!” Lute said with a malicious grin. “The spider bitch!” Emily had to stop herself from lunging at the hologram.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” she warned Lute.

“Or what?” the head commander taunted. “What exactly are you going to do? Your threats mean nothing. I’m not really here.” Emily’s anger broke. Lute was right. She was powerless, talking to a simple hologram.

Lute continued speaking.

“Honestly, you should be glad Molly’s in Hell. It’s where she belongs, isn’t it?”

Emily’s head shot up.

“The poor little angel who felt she didn’t belong in Heaven,” Lute sneered, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. Emily felt her resolve begin to shake.

“So desperate to be reunited with those she cared about, drowning in her own guilt,” Lute continued, her tone laced with contempt. “‘Why did I getta go to Heaven? I don’t belong here,’” she taunted, badly imitating Molly’s Brooklyn accent with a cruel smirk.

Emily’s whole body tensed as Lute’s mocking words hit harder than she expected. Anger surged through her veins, but beneath it was the sinking weight of truth she didn’t want to acknowledge. Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, and she felt a sting behind her eyes, but she refused to let the tears fall. It wasn’t just anger. It was the raw, biting sadness of knowing that, on some level, Lute was right. Molly had never felt like she belonged in Heaven, and Emily had known it for so long—she just never wanted to face it.

“I bet she’s happier there, isn’t she?”

Emily felt tears run down her cheeks.

Lute looked her up and down. “So I’m right then. You’re pathetic, you know that? Figure out your relationship shit on your own. And stop bothering us.” Emily felt an invisible force shove her out of the conference room, the doors slamming shut in front of her.

“No, no, no! Oh, for crying out loud!” she shouted, banging on the door. Her voice echoed in the empty hallway, but there was no response.

---

Translations of Molly’s Italian sentences

“Please, un altro drink.” = “Please, one more drink.”

“No, no water. I want booze. Non mi interessa quale tipo.” = “No, no water. I want booze. I don’t care which kind.”

“Oh, come on. Just a bit more alcool. Non è come se avessi una bussola morale.” = “Oh, come on. Just a bit more alcohol. It’s not like you have a moral compass.”

“Non posso morire di avvelenamento da alcool qui all’inferno.” = “I can’t die from alcohol poisoning here in Hell.”

“Lo so. But it still makes me feel…meno.” = “I know. But it still makes me feel…less.”

“Che cazzo vuoi?” = “What the fuck do you want?”

“Parla inglese, ragazzo.” = “Speak English, kid.”

“Cazzate. If ya were worried about me…” = “Bullshit. If you were worried about me…”

Notes:

"MK We want Fluff!"

"YOU'RE GETTING ANGST."

---

I promise at least one relationship struggle—Huskerdust or Spiderphim—will be resolved soon. Place your bets on which one it’ll be!

---

What do you think of Charlie's new tactics with Angel? If you have alternative harm reduction strategies or suggestions for improving the ones included, please share. All feedback is welcome—no judgment (/gen) if u can’t tell from this story, I don't demonize PWUD

Chapter 28: Sinner or a Saint

Summary:

Molly and Emily reunite... but they don't reconcile

CW:
-a character is (slightly) drunk.
-verbal arguments happen

Notes:

THERE WILL BE A SECOND CHAPTER RELEASED TONIGHT

I know I said a relationship miscommunication would be fixed in this chapter; and I meant too! but
this chapter ended up being wayyyy longer than planned and I have to mow lawn and shit.

I will be releasing the second chapter containing that tonight (it's currenly 4:30 EST if that helps anyone gauge time haha)

 

“We’re not leaving you alone in this,” Charlie had whispered. Molly took the glass of water begrudgingly.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said, pushing off the barstool and making her way toward the bathroom, her steps unsteady.

“I’ll go with you!” Charlie offered. Molly grimaced

“Uh no thanks princess. I aint putting my bits on display for anyone else.” Charlie blushed bright red and allowed the spider to stumble her way upstairs and into her hotel room. Alastor had installed bars on the bedroom window preventing any other unwanted… visitors from entering. While grateful for this, Molly had continued to sleep in Angel’s room, even though this had resulted in a very awkward confrontation from Vaggie.

 

Flashback——

“I’m heading to bed. Need me to feed the pig, or are you coming up soon?” Molly had asked one evening, her voice carrying a blend of fatigue and familiarity. Angel was about to reply when Vaggie interjected.

“Wait, you two are sharing a bed?” the ex-exorcist asked, clearly perturbed by the idea. Molly cursed quietly under her breath, not intending to make a scene.

“Yeah. Why, you got a problem with that?” Angel challenged, his tone defensive.

Vaggie shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsettled. “I mean… isn’t that weird?”

Angel crossed his arms, a stubborn expression on his face. “Why would it be weird?”

“I just—” Vaggie stammered, struggling to articulate her discomfort.

Angel rolled his eyes. “I may be a hoe, Vagina, but even I draw the line at fucking my sister.” Molly snickered at this, her amusement evident as Vaggie turned bright red and mumbled an apology, letting the twins pass.

—— end of flashback

 

Molly entered the bathroom and turned on the shower but didn’t step inside.

Did they really think she was that naive? That a few kind words and promises to “help” would change anything?

She knew her brother was trying to keep her under surveillance. Well, fuck that.

She exited the bathroom, grabbing a black hooded sweatshirt with a hidden flask of gin tucked inside. She made her way quietly towards her bedroom door. Pressing her ear against it, she listened carefully to ensure she was alone. Once satisfied, she slipped out and tiptoed across the hall to Emily’s room. She paused again, listening for any sign of someone approaching. She could hear Princess rambling loudly downstairs. Perfect. She tried Emily’s door. Locked.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. “Well, time for Plan B.”

She reached up and pulled a bobby pin from her hair. Angel had French braided it for her the other day, noticing her depression had caused her to start neglecting self-care. The greasy braids had been driving her nuts, so she had pinned them up. Now, one of those pins would come in handy. She flattened it out and began to pick the lock. It took longer than usual due to her drunken state, but soon the lock clicked, and she quietly slipped into Emily’s room, easing the door shut behind her.

She went straight to the window and slid it open, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the brick expanse below. It wasn’t her first time scaling a brick wall drunk. Growing up as mafia kids in Brooklyn, she and Tony had sneaked in and out of their tenement building more times than she could count. She cracked her neck and extended her second set of arms. Carefully, she shuffled until she was clinging to the wall of the Hazbin Hotel.

A lot easier with four arms and legs, she mentally noted. She moved slowly and cautiously, placing her feet and hands in the mortar between the bricks. Finally, she reached the ground, slightly out of breath but triumphant. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the flask and took a hearty swig. She heard voices and quickly pulled up her hood, trying not to be spotted. Even if someone didn’t recognize her, it wouldn’t be the first time someone mistook her for Tony from a distance. She made her way through the streets, drawing as little attention to herself as possible.

“If I were Emily, where would I go?” she muttered quietly. She didn’t have to think long before Emily, the seraphim, burst out of the embassy and collided with Molly, knocking her over.

“Oh my goodness, I am so, so sorry! Are you okay? Here, let me help you—” Emily exclaimed, but she froze when she recognized who she had run into.

“Molly?” she asked, shock evident in her voice as she took in Molly’s disheveled state.

“Hi, Em!” Molly replied with a dopey grin, attempting to stand but swaying slightly.

“I—what are you doing here?” Emily asked, her concern deepening. Molly’s eyes grew wet as she looked at her.

“Missed you,” she mumbled. Emily thought back to what Cherri had done for her when she was drunk. She instinctively grabbed Molly around the waist, making the spider giggle.

“Oooh, watcha planning, tiny?” Molly teased with a hint of playful mischief. Emily huffed, clearly not amused.

“Nothing. I’m getting you inside so you don’t hurt yourself,” Emily said firmly. Molly scoffed and tried to pull away.

“I can handle myself,” she said, stumbling over her words. Emily kept her hold on Molly.

“Uh-huh,” Emily said, as she guided the fallen angel inside the embassy and set her down on one of the couches. Molly tried to follow Emily as she began to walk away.

“Just stay there, Molly!” Emily snapped. Molly frowned, her frustration evident.

 

“But I wanna kiss ya,” she mumbled, inching closer until they were face to face. She made no move to kiss her, waiting for Emily’s permission. The seraphim, however, had dealt with enough for one day. She pushed Molly back, causing her to fall hard on the marble floor.

“You smell like alcohol,” Emily snapped, her voice laced with irritation.

“What the fuck!” Molly shouted, her sobriety momentarily returning with the shock of pain.

 

Emily crossed her arms and refused to look at Molly, her anger palpable.

“Hey, you’re the one who left me,” Molly said, struggling to her feet. “So don’t try to play victim here.” Emily turned around, her eyes blazing with raw power.

“Playing victim?” she snarled. Molly backed away, afraid of the intensity of Emily’s gaze.

“I didn’t come here for me. I haven’t been away for days because I wanted to be. I did it to protect you.” Molly looked at Emily, confusion and anger warring in her eyes.

“I can protect myself,” she stated firmly

“Clearly, you can’t!” Emily shouted, her voice breaking. Molly stiffened, and Emily gasped, placing her hands over her mouth.

“I-I didn’t” Molly stomped forward and pressed her finger into the seraphim’s chest

“No. No ya don’t get to just say shit like that and not explain ya self. Tell me Emily. Tell me exactly what the fuck you mean by that. Whatever happened to ‘not lying to each other’ huh?” Molly demanded, her voice raised and trembling with emotion.

Emily was silent for a moment.

“I want the name of the person who hurt you.” She said her voice monotone. Molly’s entire body tensed.

“What?”

“Who was it Molly?”

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“Yes, you do!” Emily shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The person who scared you so badly you hid in my room and couldn’t speak about it! Someone who’s most likely still running around down here. Tell me, or I’ll keep asking Heaven to spare you and take you back!”

Molly stared at Emily for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was broken. “You asked Heaven what?” she asked. Emily met her gaze with a look of desperation.

“I’ve been trying to ask them to take you back. I’m the one who should be punished not you.”

“Why the fuck would I want to go back to Heaven?” Molly asked, her voice hoarse and filled with disbelief.

“I— you’re safe up there, Molly! We have friends—Pentious, Saint Peter—” Molly growled low in her throat and stood up, her anger rising.

“Why don’t you just grow up? I’m so tired of your starry-eyed bullshit!” she shouted. Emily felt angry tears run down her cheeks.

“Oh, and is growing up supposed to mean I become a depressed asshole like you?” The girls stood in silence, glaring at each other.

“I belong down here, Em. We both know that. I was the freak who was depressed in Heaven. The place of endless joy,” Molly said quietly, her voice tinged with sorrow.

“Stop saying that!” Emily protested, her frustration palpable. Molly stared at her, her eyes hard.

“Em I got a lot more in common with these folks than I Eva’h did with those self righteous pricks in heaven.”

“No, you don’t!” Emily shouted, her tears now soaking her face. Molly crossed her arms, her expression resolute.

“You say ya support redemption. So why are you so against me seein’ myself in some of these people down here huh?” She asked.

“Because they’re horrible people! I still believe that some sinners can be redeemed but most of them? The Killers, the Cannibals? I mean, just look at them! They’re monsters, Molly!” Emily's voice was filled with anguish and frustration.

Molly was silent, her gaze fixed on the marble floor as her lower hands clenched and unclenched into fists.

“Molly?” Emily repeated quietly

Molly tensed, her anger flaring as she looked up at Emily. “Monsters, huh?” she repeated, her voice heavy with pain. “My fucking family is down here, Emily. Tony, my brother—he’s down here. Is he a monster to you? Because if he is, then I should be too. Cause guess what? I’m a spider freak just like them.” 

Emily gasped, her eyes widening with shock and guilt. She started to cry, her tears flowing freely. “Molly, I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t mean—”

“Save it Emily. I… just leave me alone” Molly choked out, wrapping her arms around herself as she quickly made her way out of the embassy, tears stinging her face.

The night air was cool against her flushed skin as she stepped outside. She walked briskly, trying to escape the weight of the confrontation and the sting of Emily’s words. Her steps echoed as she made her way through the streets, away from the hotel, her heart heavy and her mind a storm of conflicting emotions.

 

Notes:

Hehehehe

Chapter 29: Threshold of the Heart

Summary:

Imagine the pre Loser baby bar scene, but if Angel actually got drugged. Except it's Molly. Oh and Husk and Angel communicate

PLEASE READ CHAPTER NOTES

Notes:

CW:

This chapter contains non-graphic discussions of:

• Substance Abuse and Drugging: References to drug use, spiking drinks, and the effects of intoxication
• Attempted Abduction and Kidnapping: Scenes of forceful restraint and attempts to drag someone away against their will
• Emotional Distress: Descriptions of trauma, shock, and emotional distress
• Non graphic mentions of vomiting
• Canon typical violence

Please be mindful of these elements as they may affect some readers.

Husk grumbled to himself as he trudged toward the bars in the V district of Hell to pick up supplies. He loathed this chore, especially since Molly could outdrink him any day. As he mulled over where to haggle for the cheapest booze, a familiar voice made his ears perk up.

“Where we goin’?” a drowsy Brooklyn accent asked. Husk momentarily thought it was Angel, but then remembered that Angel was back at the hotel. His heart sank as he realized who it had to be.

“Molly?” he muttered, peeking around the corner. His blood boiled at the sight.

Two land sharks were gripping Molly’s arms, trying to drag her into a car. A third one was sweet-talking her.

“C’mon, little lady. We can get ya the drugs you want. You just gotta come with us. We already sold the ones we brought. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Shark One said.

Molly was swaying on her feet, her arms limp as if they were lead. She mumbled something unintelligible as Shark Three held onto the back of her dress to keep her upright.

“Fuck, she looks just like that Angel Dust slut, don’t she? We’re gonna have a real fun time with you, girlie,” Shark Two leered.

Molly looked at him, confused. “But’cha said...” Her voice trailed off into incoherent babbles. Husk caught a glimpse of her glazed-over, unfocused eyes. His fists clenched. Molly could hold her liquor—these bastards had drugged her. He edged closer, staying hidden. The sharks continued to talk to her, though it was clear she wasn’t understanding much.

Just then, Husk tuned back in to hear, “Exactly, darling. Payment,” Shark One cooed, grabbing her chin. Molly seemed to come to her senses briefly and tried to shake him off. “No! Lemme go!” she cried. Shark Two tried to silence her by covering her mouth with his hand. Muscle memory kicked in as Molly bit down hard. The loan shark shrieked and was about to hit her when Husk intervened.

“Hey!” Husk shouted, leaping out and pulling out his throwing cards.

The land sharks recoiled at the sight of him. “Get the fuck away from her,” Husk snarled.

“Oh, and what’re you gonna do about it?” Shark Two asked, cockily. Husk growled, flinging a throwing card that impaled Shark Two’s hand to the wall.

“What the fuck?!” Shark Two screamed, trying to pull his pinned hand free. Husk threw a second card, embedding it in his chest and killing him. The first shark charged at Husk, who threw his dice down before leaping away. The blast flung the bastard backwards. The third shark raised his hands and backed away, terrified. Husk was about to attack him when he heard soft whimpering.

“Leave!” Husk snarled. The shark bolted, running. Husk knelt where Molly had crawled under a car, curled up and shaking, her pupils wide as she frantically looked around.

“Molly?” Husk asked softly. Her head shot up, hitting the bottom of the car and causing her to cry out. She clutched her head with her arms and peeked up at him.

“Gatto?” she asked, recognizing him. Husk sighed internally but nodded.

“Yeah, the cat’s here. Think you can crawl out from under there for me?” It took Molly a minute to process, but she began dragging herself out. She reached out to Husk, her grip weak. Husk grunted as he helped her up, sitting her against the car. She was shivering uncontrollably.

“Shit, kid, what did they do to you?” Husk muttered under his breath. Molly didn’t respond, staring blankly at something he couldn’t see, clearly in shock.

Husk’s heart pounded as he saw her terrified, unfocused eyes. He needed to get her back quickly. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking paws as he helped Molly to her feet.

“Come on, Molly. We need to get you back to the hotel,” Husk said, keeping his voice steady and soothing. Molly looked up at him with vacant eyes, her shivering barely subsiding as she clung to him. He wrapped an arm around her waist for support.

With urgency and caution, Husk led her through the dark streets, glancing around to ensure they weren’t followed. The noise of the district faded, replaced by the soft hum of the city and distant shouts. Molly’s trembling body pressed against him, and he kept a protective arm around her. Whenever she began to panic, he reassured her it was just him and she was safe.

As they approached the hotel, Husk saw Alastor’s shadow near the entrance.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside. Getcha sobered up. I’ll be here tomorrow if ya wanna talk,” Husk said quietly. Molly didn’t respond. Husk wasn’t sure if she could even hear him at this point.

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the sight of them as they entered the lobby.

“Some fuckers spiked her drink. I caught ‘em right before they got her into their car,” Husk grunted in explanation. Alastor’s eyes turned murderous.

“Did you see what they looked like?”

Husk shook his head. “Couple of loan sharks. I was focused on getting this one out of there.” Alastor hummed.

“Alright. Have a good evening, then, Husker.” Husk rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. I’m taking her up to Angel.”

Getting Molly up the stairs was a struggle. Husk cursed, panting as he maneuvered the taller spider. For the hundredth time that week, he wished he had his full Overlord powers at the ready.

Finally, they arrived outside Angel’s door. Husk knocked.

“One second!” came a shout. Husk heard footsteps as Angel came to the door and opened it.

“Uh, what the fuck?” Angel asked, blinking at Husk and the very out-of-it Molly standing in front of him.

“Kid went out drinking alone and got herself shitfaced and spiked,” Husk said, grunting as he adjusted his hold on Molly. Angel’s eyes widened.

“Oh shit, is she—?” Molly managed to focus on her brother.

“Tony! Hi. Don’ feel good,” she slurred, nearly falling over despite Husk’s hold. Angel caught her.

“Okay, okay. Let’s getcha somewhere comfy, huh? Getcha some water. Shit, Molly. What the fuck were you thinkin’?” he muttered, sitting her on his bed. Molly let out a sob, burying her face into Angel’s chest fluff, mumbling incoherently.

“Molly?” Husk asked.

“...monster… Emily...pills,” the spider hiccuped. Angel grabbed her arm, concerned.

“What? Wait, Molly, what did you take?” he asked urgently.

“I—” Molly gagged, her eyes shooting open as she sat up, clamping both hands over her mouth.

“Shit!” Husk cursed, grabbing a trashcan and handing it to Angel.

Angel placed it in Molly’s lap just as she started to get sick. He held her hair back with his upper hands and rubbed circles on her back with one of his lower hands.

“That’s it, sis. Get all that poison out,” he soothed. Once Molly was finished, Angel set the trashcan aside and grabbed her lower hands.

“Molly, I need you to be honest with me. Did ya take somethin’? Whiskers and me ain’t gonna judge you. We just need to know so I don’t give ya nothin’ that’ll make shit worse.”

Molly shook her head, then quickly regretted it. “Fuck, bad idea,” she groaned, leaning forward until her head rested on her upper hands.

“Kid?” Husk prompted.

“No, didn’t take nothin’,” she slurred. “Had eight… nine? Rounds of shots, and then… shark guy bought me some fruity drink.”

Husk growled. Angel looked up. “That who drugged her?” The cat nodded before turning his attention back to Molly.

“You sure you didn’t take anything? I heard what those fuckers were saying. You bought something off ‘em?”

Molly sat back up, wrapping her arms around herself, looking ashamed. “I-I was lookin’ to buy... hops,” she confessed, staring at the floor. “But they didn’t seem to get what I was after. So I just hit the bottle instead.”

Despite his worry, Angel felt a wave of relief. Molly hadn’t fallen off the wagon, despite her apparent attempt. Husk tapped his arm. “Hops?” he mouthed, confused. Angel grimaced. “Opium,” he mouthed back. Husk’s ears pointed back in concern.

“Hey, uh, Husk. Can you grab her some water? I would, but it seems I’m her personal teddy bear at the moment,” Angel said. The air was awkward between them. This was the longest they’d been around each other since the incident at the bar.

“Sure, yeah. Of course,” the cat agreed, heading into the bathroom to fill a large glass. He hesitated before grabbing a few washcloths and wetting them with cold water as well.

He returned to find Angel propping Molly up against the headboard with pillows. She was clumsily petting Fat Nuggets, babbling incoherently to herself.

“Here,” Husk said gruffly, placing the water and cloths down.

“Huh? Oh, thanks,” Angel said, helping Molly sip the water. After a while, she pushed his hand away. “Sleepy,” she mumbled, her head drooping towards her chest. Angel sighed and gently rolled her onto her side. Fat Nuggets grunted in protest but soon crawled back into Molly’s arms, where she hugged him tightly.

As Molly drifted into a restless slumber, Angel sat beside her, feeling the weight of the evening’s events pressing down on him. He glanced over at Husk, who was seated on the edge of the room, his posture tense and gaze distant.

Angel, awkwardly trying to bridge the gap, cleared his throat. “So, uh... thanks for comin’ to help,” he said.

Husk, still uncomfortable, nodded curtly. “Just doing what needed to be done.”

Angel scratched the back of his head, his frustration from earlier giving way to a more subdued concern. “I... I, uh. It’s been a while since we’ve been able to talk.” Husk shifted uncomfortably.

“Nothing to talk about.” Angel huffed in annoyance

“Look, I don’t know why knowin’ my brother is down here is such a big fuckin’ deal to you!” He finally blurted out. Husk clenched his fists.

“It’s not about him being your brother.”

“Then what the actual fuck is it about?” Angel hissed, trying to keep his voice low. Husk scoffed.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”

“I’m not fuckin’ pretendin’. This ain’t no act. I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re hintin’ at,” Angel snapped, his accent growing thicker.

Husk’s eyes flared with frustration and hurt as he struggled to stay calm. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he growled, his voice trembling slightly. “It’s not just about Arackniss being your brother. It’s about the fact that he’s connected to a part of my past that’s... well, it’s a lot more complicated and painful than you might think.”

Angel’s face twisted with confusion and concern. “I’m sorry, Husk. I didn’t realize it was that serious. I know my brother is a piece of work, but...”

Husk interrupted, his voice tinged with bitterness. “A piece of work? Angel, he destroyed my life. I had my soul on the line in that poker game, and he played dirty. He manipulated me and used me for his own gain. It’s not just about him being a bad guy; it’s about the way he took everything from me.”

“He did what?” Angel asked in disbelief, his eyes widening. Husk was surprised by Angel’s reaction.

“Wait, you really didn’t know?” he asked.

“Of course I didn’t know!” Angel shouted. Molly groaned and shifted at the noise.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, sis. It’s okay. Go back to sleep,” he soothed, running a hand down her back. He looked up at Husk, who was staring at his paws.

“I’m a damn fool,” the cat muttered after a minute. Angel glanced at Husk, noticing his downcast demeanor. A surprising chuckle escaped him, breaking the tense silence.

“Seems to me we’re both fuckin’ fools,” Angel admitted.

Husk’s ears twitched in surprise, and his gaze met Angel’s. For a moment, the absurdity of the situation struck him too. He let out a reluctant chuckle, which soon grew into a full-blown laugh.

Angel’s laughter mingled with Husk’s, easing the earlier tension between them. As they laughed, the shared humor momentarily bridged their complicated feelings. Molly, still half-asleep, mumbled something incoherent but seemed comforted by their laughter.

Angel wiped a tear from his eye. “Anyways, I, uh... I’m sorry for not knowin’ what was goin’ on. I really didn’t mean to stir up old wounds.”

Husk waved a dismissive paw. “It’s not your fault. I guess I’ve been carrying a lot of baggage and projected it onto you. Maybe it was easier to be mad than to face the truth.”

Angel nodded, his tone more serious. “I get that. I mean, I got my own shit to deal. But if there’s anything I can do to help...”

Before Husk could respond, Molly stirred slightly. “Tony... ‘nother water?” she asked. Husk got up quickly to refill her glass, and Angel helped her sit up. Husk handed Angel the glass before retaking his seat in the corner. Molly fought the urge to gulp it down as she looked between them. Eventually, she collapsed back onto the pillows.

“How ya feelin’?” Angel asked. His sister cracked one eye open at him.

“Like shit,” she muttered. Husk chuckled at her response.

“Sounds about right,” the bartender said. Angel hummed.

“Well, you’re not fully out of the woods yet. Don’t worry though, we’ll be keepin’ an eye on ya.”

“We?” Husk asked, surprised.

“Shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. I mean, you’ve got work in the mornin’ and—”

“Can you two just fuckin’ kiss already?” a drowsy voice asked. The two turned to see Molly, now more awake and clearly enjoying the awkwardness.

Angel and Husk exchanged looks of surprise and embarrassment, their faces flushing at Molly’s blunt remark. The air thickened with unspoken tension as they processed the unexpected suggestion.

Angel cleared his throat, gaze dropping to his feet before he looked up at Husk with a hesitant smile. “Uh, well... if you really think that’s... I mean, we could...”

Husk shifted nervously, his paws fidgeting. He swallowed hard, his usual composure faltering. “I—uh... I’m not sure if this is the right time or place. But... if you’re up for it... I’d like to try...”

Angel’s heart raced, caught between leaning in and the uncertainty of the moment. “You sure? I mean, Molly’s got a point, but...”

Taking a deep breath, Husk stood up and crossed the small space between them. His eyes met Angel’s with a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I don’t want to force anything, Angel. If you’re not okay with it, just tell me. But if you are... I’d like to kiss you.”

Angel looked up at Husk, his expression softening. After a moment, he nodded, a smile breaking through his nervousness. “Yeah, let’s... let’s do it.”

Husk hesitated for a heartbeat, then gently cupped Angel’s face with his paws. The touch was tender, his thumb brushing lightly against Angel’s cheek. He leaned in slowly, giving Angel every chance to pull away if he wanted.

Angel’s breath hitched slightly as he felt Husk’s lips brush against his. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft and cautious exploration. But as they both settled into the moment, the kiss deepened, becoming more earnest. Husk’s grip on Angel’s face tightened just enough to convey his feelings, while Angel’s hands found Husk’s waist, pulling him closer.

The kiss lingered for a few seconds longer before Husk gently pulled away, his eyes searching Angel’s for any sign of discomfort. Angel’s eyes were warm and filled with a mixture of affection and relief.

“Thank you,” Angel murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Husk smiled, cheeks still warm. “Anytime...Anthony.”

“Took ya long enough” Molly muttered, closing her eyes once more.

Notes:

Molly best wingman.

Chapter 30: Bones to Pick

Summary:

Emily attempts to keep an open mind as she makes a visit to a group of people she had called monsters,

Notes:

CW: Canon Compliant Cannibal town.

Emily stared at the doors Molly had just stormed through, her body trembling as hot, angry tears spilled down her cheeks. For the first time, she understood what virtuous souls meant when they talked about heartbreak. It wasn’t just emotional pain—it was a hollow, aching sensation, like a piece of her very soul had been ripped away. And the worst part? She had been the one to tear it from her own chest.

The future she had always imagined, a bright, hopeful vision filled with "what-could-be’s," had crumbled into a nightmare of "what-ifs" and "maybes." And all of it—every bit of it—was her fault. If she hadn’t made that stupid comment about Adam... if she’d noticed Molly sneaking into the courtroom... if she’d been there when someone hurt Molly... 

That’s what stung the most. While Molly had been in distress, Emily had been at Lucifer’s palace, fretting over Molly’s decision to kill in her defense. Molly had shown her the lengths she’d go to protect her, and Emily had thrown it back in her face. She’d failed her, and now, the consequences were unfolding before her eyes.

Swallowing hard, Emily wiped at her tears, forcing herself to think. Going after Molly right now would only make things worse. The spider needed space, needed time to cool off. Emily only hoped that she’d do so somewhere safe.

Pulling herself together, Emily reached into her bag and produced a map Charlie had drawn for her. She stared at the familiar scrawl. Cannibal Town. She shuddered, recalling the haunting screams and dead, hungry eyes of sinners who had called for her death the last time she passed through. But as dread coursed through her veins, she took a steadying breath. 

Molly could be right. Maybe these people aren’t monsters... but I need to see it for myself.

Nightfall in Hell carried with it a different kind of weight. Shadows seemed to stretch and slither as though alive, creeping like phantoms across the alleyways of Pentagram City. Emily walked with her wings hidden, blending in with the damned souls that roamed the streets. From this vantage, she could no longer hide behind the illusion of distance, no longer pretend the suffering below was anything less than real.

Her footsteps faltered as she reached the outskirts of Cannibal Town, just before the weathered, blood-streaked sign marking its boundary. Looking around, she saw no one. With a deep breath, she stepped forward—only to feel a bony hand grab her shoulder from behind.

“Well, well, what have we here? Won’t you make a fine snack!” A cackling voice hissed. Emily spun to face the old woman, ragged in appearance, with a feathered hat on her head and a dead animal draped around her neck.

Emily narrowed her eyes, trying to remain composed. “Release me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

The hag only cackled louder. “Think you can hurt me? Stupid girl!” Without warning, the woman lunged, biting into Emily’s shoulder with sharp teeth.

Emily cried out in pain. “Ow! What in the unholy hell—” She shoved the hag off her, fury bubbling beneath her skin. The old woman stumbled, licking her lips as golden blood gleamed on her sharp teeth. Her pointed grin widened. 

“Cannibals and Canibesses!” the hag sang out, her voice shrill. “We have an angel in town!”

Emily’s heart raced as she found herself surrounded by dozens, then hundreds, of ravenous faces. She summoned energy into her hands, trying to ward them off with a threatening glow, but the crowd was undeterred. When one lunged at her, she threw him back with a flick of her wrist.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone!” Emily shouted, her voice betraying a tremor. The crowd only laughed, their hunger palpable. Another rushed at her, and she barely dodged in time, sending him flying with a pulse of energy.

“Talk? Why would we talk when we can eat?” the hag taunted, her voice thick with malice. She closed in again, but before Emily could react, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Pardon the interruption, Susan, but it would be unwise to devour this one.”

Emily turned to see Alastor leaning casually against a nearby building, his ever-present grin gleaming under the dim streetlights.

“Alastor,” the old woman sneered. “You think you’re going to take this one for yourself? Not a chance!”

Alastor chuckled darkly, the sound of radio static crackling through the air. “No, no, dearest Susan. This one is property of the Princess. And surely, even you aren’t foolish enough to tangle with royalty.”

“Property?” Emily hissed, but before she could protest further, Alastor shot her a glare that silenced her as he used his powers to manifest right next to Emily, and gripped her forearm

“If you wish to remain in one piece, I suggest you hold your tongue,” he muttered, barely audible beneath the chaotic sounds of the crowd. Reluctantly, Emily obeyed.

After a moment, the cannibals backed off, dispersing under Alastor’s watchful gaze. Once they were alone, Emily wrenched her arm free from Alastor’s grasp. 

“I had it handled,” she snapped.

Alastor shrugged, unbothered. “Perhaps, but this way was much more... entertaining.”

Emily shot him a glare. 

“Well, what brings you to Cannibal Town, dear? We’ve missed you at the hotel,” Alastor drawled, though his tone was dripping with feigned indifference.

Emily crossed her arms. “I could ask you the same.”

Alastor chuckled again, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m visiting an old friend. She runs this delightful little community, you know.”

Emily perked up slightly. “You know the leader here? Can you take me to them?”

His grin stretched wider. “Of course. Follow me, my dear.”

They walked through the eerie streets until they reached a building marked Rosie’s Emporium. Once inside, Alastor led her to a table and pulled out a chair for her. Emily hesitated but sat down. 

As they waited, Alastor’s eyes never left hers, his eerie smile unwavering. After a long silence, he finally spoke again.

“What have you been discussing with Heaven?” His question was sharp, probing.

Emily clenched her fists. “That’s none of your business.”

Alastor’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, a sinister beat to the radio frequency that hummed around them. “Molly, then?”

Emily’s head snapped up. Alastor’s smile widened, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Ah, so that is it.”

“Such a shame what happened to her that day you were… discussing things with Lucifer.” Emily stared at him

“You know what happened?”

Alastor eyes flashed his grin widening

“Of course. I’m the facilities manager. I know of everyone who goes in and out of that hotel. Especially those I have to…deal with” Emily leaned in closer her voice tense.

“I want to know who it is who hurt her.” she demanded.

Alastor tutted

“Ah-ah-ah little angel. Not so fast. Why don’t we… Make a deal?

Notes:

Won't you shake a poor sinners hand?

Chapter 31: Easy Mark

Summary:

“Being young and female doesn't mean that I’m an easy mark.” — Lydia, Beetlejuice the Musical

 

Aka: Alastor fucks around and finds out
Oh and Rosie appears

“I want to know who it is who hurt her.” she demanded.

Alastor tutted

“Ah-ah-ah little angel. Not so fast. Why don’t we… Make a deal ?

---

Emily stared at Alastor, her expression unreadable.

“A deal. You give me the information I want. And I give you… what?” She asked crossing her arms. Alastor shrugged, a glint of mischief in his smile.

“Whatever I decide to cash it in on.” He reached out his hand, his eyes blazing with radio dials

“Do we have a deal?”

Emily grabbed his hand firmly. Alastor’s smile elongated, a glint of victory in his gaze.

He had won.

Or so he thought, until a wave of pain coursed through him, forcing him to his knees. Emily dropped his hand.

“You really thought it would be that easy?” She asked, her voice full of venom. “If I recall, I never actually said ‘deal.’” Alastor looked up at her, realizing for the first time who he’d just tried to mess with. He struggled to conceal the fear creeping into his eyes. Alastor tried to rise, but an invisible force, like a heavy hand pressing down, shoved him back to the ground with unyielding pressure that left him gasping

Emily stepped closer, her blue Mary Janes tapping softly against the floor. With a sudden, deliberate motion, she stomped one of her shoes onto his hand. He hissed in pain Emily looked down at him.

“And to think I thought after getting your ass kicked by Adam, you’d know better than to mess with a powerful angel.” Alastors eyes widened. Emily’s lips curled into a smile

“Yeah. I know about that. Every high ranking Angel  up there does. We saw you get injured, and we watched you slink away like a coward” Alastors body shook with indignation. Emily walked over and picked up his cane. She examined it casually twisting it around in her hands.

“What happens if I break this for a second time?” She asked her voice eerily calm. “Do you loose your power?” Alastor said nothing. Emily turned to him, her eyes blazing.

“Answer. Me.” The pressure on the humanoid deer's body intensified.

“No. I still have my power. It just helps channel it.” Emily hummed, clearly pondering his response. She moved fluidly toward the chair she’d occupied earlier, lifting her knee and planting her foot on the seat. With both hands, she gripped the cane tightly, her arms flexing as she prepared to snap it over her leg. But just as she was about to bring the cane down, Alastor’s voice cut through the air, sharp and desperate.

“Stop!”

Emily turned to him with mock interest. “Yes?” she asked innocently, feigning ignorance. Alastor fought down his pride, his voice laced with urgency. “Don’t. Don’t break it.” Emily shook her head, her expression mischievous.

“That’s not a very polite way to ask, is it?” He felt the pressure holding him down increase as he hissed, gritting his teeth.

“Please. Don’t break it.” Emily smiled and lowered her leg and the cane

“Tell you what. You tell me who hurt Molly, and I won’t break this cane of yours.” Alastors’s eyes flashed in defiance briefly becoming radio dials once again 

“I’m not making a deal with you.” Emily giggled, a sound both light and menacing. “You don’t need to. I could kill you with a flick of my pinky finger. And unlike Pentious, you wouldn’t be welcomed into heaven. Besides, I can already see that you’re owned by someone else.” Alastor’s breath caught in his throat, the implications of her words settling heavily on him. The two locked eyes for a moment before a posh accent broke the tension.

“Alastor? And ah. I see you’ve gotten ya self into trouble again.”

Emily swiftly turned caught off guard, quickly releasing the magic that had been pining the overlord to the ground. Alastor scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off, and attempted to restore his bravado.

“Nothing to worry about Rosie dearest. Just a misunderstanding.” he insisted, but the cannibal overlord scoffed.

“Really Alastor. We’ve known each other for way too long for you to lie to me. Besides I heard what you was plannin’. Honestly? You tried to make a deal with a Angel? Quite a misguided venture my dear.”

Alastor grimaced but said nothing. She turned her attention to Emily, offering a smile as she settled into the seat Alastor had vacated.

The cannibals sharp teeth and black eyes unnerved the seraphim, but she refused to show it.

“I like you girlie. You’ve got quite a bit of moxie. It takes a lot of gumption to do what you just did.” Rosie declared, her tone playful yet somehow authoritative. Alastor crossed his arms, glaring at Rosie like a petulant child. Spotting this, Rosie rolled her eyes before turning her focus back to Emily.

“This ‘Molly’ you mentioned. Someone you love?” Rosie asked, her curiosity piqued. Emily’s voice caught in her throat, but she nodded slowly. Rosie gave Alastor a pointed look, as if daring him to object. “Well then, by all means, Alastor. Give the girl the information.” The Radio Demon was about to protest, but silenced himself at ‘the look’ Rosie gave him.

The Radio Demon’s jaw clenched as he reluctantly relented, the words slipping through his gritted teeth. “His name is Lorenzo Scavo.” Rosie clapped her hands together, her sharp smile widening.

“Now. Alastor, would you kindly take you leave? I believe us girls need to discuss this… relationship.” Anxiety began to bubble in Emily’s chest, but this cannibal had surprisingly been nice so far. The Radio Demon did not look pleased, but begrudgingly took his unbroken cane that Emily extended to him, before disappearing into the shadows.

Rosie turned her attention back to the seraphim, her expression shifting to one of earnestness. “Now, dearie. Tell Aunt Rosie everything.” Emily regarded her suspiciously, wariness mingling with intrigue. “And why should I do that? I’ve just met you.”

Rosie chuckled, her laughter warm yet edged with sharpness. “A feisty one, aren’t ya? Well, darlin’, I just happen to be the pride ring’s top—and only—relationship consultant. Besides, I know better than to mess with you. I heard about what you did out there in town.” Emily paled slightly, but Rosie waved her hand dismissively. “No hard feelings for that, hon. Frankly, I was impressed by the amount of restraint you showed by not just butchering that Susan. All this to say, you’ve got the upper hand here, darlin’.”

Emily considered this, weighing her options, before finally sitting down at the table across from Rosie. “Where do you want me to start?” she asked

Notes:

"I’m a fool. Not an idiot." -Emily probably

Chapter 32: Aftershocks

Summary:

What yall know about whumptober 👹

the continuation of roofied Molly

Notes:

Molly is still drugged.
NO vomiting

As Molly drifted back into a light slumber, Husk and Angel sat there in silence, the air still buzzing with the weight of the kiss. Husk cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, while Angel couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“So... what now?” Angel asked, still holding onto that lingering vulnerability from the moment.

Husk glanced at him, trying to suppress the butterflies that had somehow made their way into his usually steely gut.
“Dunno, I guess we figure it out as we go. I mean, it’s not like we’ve got everything sorted yet.”

Angel nodded, appreciating Husk’s honesty.
“Yeah, I get that. One step at a time.”

The quiet returned, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as before. It felt different—less heavy, more... promising.

As the night dragged on, Molly’s condition continued to deteriorate. She was restless, muttering incoherently, her body occasionally jerking as if she was trying to escape something in her head. Angel watched her with growing anxiety, his hands shaking as he paced around the room.

Husk sat nearby, his eyes on Molly but trying to stay composed.
“She’s tough. She’ll get through this, Angel. These waves... they’re bad, but she ain’t dying. It’s just the drug.”

Angel stopped pacing and ran his hands through his hair, clearly distressed.
“I know that, Husk. I know she ain’t dyin’, but this shit—this ain’t normal. I’m pretty sure those fuckers gave her BellaDowna. It ain’t just a roofie from Hell, it’s a total blackout drug. No one remembers shit when they wake up, but the process... it’s hell on the body. It makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. Then ya gotta go through regular withdrawal after that”

Husk’s brow furrowed as he glanced at Angel.
“You know more about this than you’re letting on.”

Angel bit his lip, leaning on the wall and staring at his sister, still twisting and turning under the blankets.
“I’ve seen it used before... on me, on other people. Val… he has it around sometimes. BellaDowna hits hard. Real hard. You don’t know what’s real, what’s a nightmare. It fucks you up.”

Husk’s expression darkened, connecting the dots.
“So, this ain't just a regular bad trip.”

Angel shook his head.
“No. It’s worse. It screws with your mind, brings out your worst memories, worst fears. Molly’s trapped in her head right now, and I can’t pull her out of it. She’s stuck until it burns out of her system.”

Husk frowned, realizing just how serious this was. He glanced back at Molly, who was muttering something under her breath, her hands trembling.
“What’s she seeing you think?”

Angel’s face tightened, his eyes glistening as he looked at Molly.
“I dunno, but it’s gotta be bad. She’s fightin’ somethin’ in there. Something that probably feels real as hell.”

He buried his face in his hands, guilt and frustration pouring out.
“I should’ve been there. I should’ve stopped her from gettin’ involved in this crap in the first place.”

Husk shook his head.
“You can’t be everywhere. I’m not gonna let you carry that blame—what matters is that she’s here now. And she’s safe.”

Angel lifted his head, eyes glossy with unshed tears. He wanted to believe Husk, but the sight of Molly so vulnerable and lost tore at him.
“She’s my sister, Husk. I was supposed to protect her.”

“And you still are,” Husk said, leaning forward slightly.
“You’re here now. Keep watching over her, stay with her through this. It’s what she needs.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence, save for Molly’s faint groans. Angel wiped at his face, the weight of everything pressing down on him, but Husk’s words grounded him, kept him from spiraling further. He couldn’t change the past, but he could be here now.

Molly stirred again, her head turning toward Angel. Her eyes fluttered briefly, but they didn’t focus on either of them. Instead, she seemed to stare through the walls, her lips trembling as she whispered,
“No... please, stop... I can’t... don’t make me drink it...”

Angel’s chest tightened as he leaned closer to her.
“Molly... you’re safe here, okay? No one’s gonna make you drink anything.” His voice was thick with emotion, hands reaching out to grip hers, trying to anchor her back to the present.

Husk, noticing the tension building in Angel, stepped up.
“Look, Angel, you can’t stay up all night worrying yourself sick. You need a break. I’ll take the first watch.”

Angel shook his head fiercely.
“I can’t leave her like this, Husk. I can’t... she needs me.”

Husk frowned but kept his voice steady.
“She’s gonna need you even more when she wakes up, and you won’t be any good to her if you’re passed out from exhaustion. I’ll keep an eye on her, I promise. You can grab a nap, and we’ll switch in a couple hours.”

Angel’s eyes flicked between Husk and Molly, torn between his worry and his own growing fatigue. His body was running on pure adrenaline, but Husk had a point. He’d be no good to anyone if he collapsed halfway through the night. After a few moments of hesitation, he sighed heavily.
“Alright. But only a couple of hours. You wake me up if she gets worse.”

“I will,” Husk assured him.

Reluctantly, Angel moved over to the couch near the window and lay down, though his eyes remained fixed on his sister. Husk grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to the bed, his sharp gaze not leaving Molly for even a second.

As the minutes ticked by, Molly’s delirious whispers grew more intense. Her body jerked every now and then as if she were fighting off invisible forces. Husk furrowed his brow, leaning in closer when he heard her mumble again.
“Emily... I don’t wanna go back... please… I’m sorry… you don’t understand…”

Husk’s heart clenched. He didn’t know what had happened between Molly and Emily, but from the sound of it, Molly was reliving something in her mind. He reached out, gently placing a paw on her arm.
“You’re safe here, kid. No one’s taking you anywhere.”

Molly’s trembling eased just a bit at his touch, but she still whimpered softly, caught in whatever nightmare the drug had conjured up. Husk felt helpless—there was nothing more he could do but wait it out.

Hours passed, and though Angel managed to fall asleep, it was clear that even in his sleep, he wasn’t resting. His face was contorted with worry, his hands gripping the edge of the couch tightly.

Husk stayed vigilant. Every time Molly stirred or muttered, Husk was there, ready to offer her any comfort he could.

Near dawn, Molly’s condition took a turn for the worse. Her white skin somehow became even more pale, almost translucent, as her muscles began spasming uncontrollably. Husk cursed loudly.

“Angel. Anthony. Fuck, wake up!” Angel shot up to see Husk looking panicked.

“Husk, grab my phone, start a stopwatch,” Angel ordered, rushing to her and turning her on her side.

“What the hell’s happening?” Husk asked as he did what Angel had instructed.

“Seizure. Tell me if it gets to four minutes, okay?” Husk’s voice caught in his throat, but he managed a noise of acknowledgment. Angel fought down his panic. Molly needed him.

His hands trembled as he gently supported her on her side.
“Molly, c’mon. You’re gonna be okay, alright? We’re here.”

Molly’s body tensed and jerked violently, her face twisted in pain. Suddenly, her eyes shot open.
“I—I can’t... Tony, I—” She gasped, her whole body seizing up. Tears welled up in Angel’s eyes as he held onto her hands tightly.

“It’s okay, Mol! I’m here! Just focus on my voice, alright?” Angel’s voice trembled, filled with desperation.

Husk stood and put a firm paw on Angel’s shoulder, grounding him with his presence.

Eventually, after what felt like hours—but according to the stopwatch was less than three minutes—Molly’s spasms eased up, her body going limp against the mattress. Her eyes fluttered, still glazed with fear, but her body was no longer fighting itself.

Angel exhaled sharply, wiping the tears from his eyes as he slumped forward, holding her hand.
“You did good, Angel,” Husk said quietly.

The spider’s shoulder shook as he leaned back into Husk, who wrapped a comforting arm around him. Just then, Angel’s phone began to buzz. He quickly went over and grabbed it from where Husk had set it down.

“Shit,” Angel cursed, running a hand through his hair.
“Val wants me for an early morning shoot. Of course he does. Today, of all fucking days!” His voice rang out before he quickly lowered it, noticing Molly beginning to stir.

Husk hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I can try asking Al for time off—” he started, though even he looked uncertain and nervous about the idea.

 

Angel gave him an exasperated look.

“Yeah, sure. We both know how that would go, Whiskers. Al’s not exactly the sympathetic type.”

Husk sighed, knowing the spider was right. Alastor wasn’t going to cut him any slack just because of Molly’s condition. They’d have to figure out something else. He racked his brain, trying to think of someone else who could help them out.

“What about Charlie? Or Niffty? Maybe they could pitch in?”

Angel shook his head without looking up, his thumbs flying across his phone screen as he typed. “Nah. Don’t think either of ‘em knows how to handle someone goin’ through this kinda withdrawal. They’d mean well, but it’s not the kind of thing they’re used to.” He paused for a moment before looking up at Husk.

“I texted Cherri. She owes me a favor, and she’s dealt with worse. She’ll be here soon.”

Husk raised an eyebrow, still looking a bit unsure. "Cherri Bomb? Are you sure she’s up for this?”

Angel pocketed his phone with a sharp sigh, his expression tense but resolved.

“She’s rough around the edges, but Cherri’s good in a crisis. She knows her way around bad trips, detoxes—hell, she’s probably been through worse shit herself. Besides, I can’t think of anyone else right now who I’d trust with Molly in this state.”

Husk decided to trust Angels judgement.

“Alright.  Just hope she gets here fast.”

Angel glanced at his sister, worry still etched in his features.

“She will. She’s already on her way.”

Notes:

Did I make Molly have a seizure because I have epilepsy? maybeeee

Chapter 33: Let the Memory Live Again (Part 1)

Summary:

Flufftober? Whumptober? HOW BOUT BOTH!

Oh and this is part 1 of these flashback scenes hehehehehe

Notes:

CW: Mollys father being a dick. if you have made it this far u know the drill

Emily

“Where do you want me to start?” Emily asked

 

Rosie smiled at the seraphim, her pointed teeth gleaming in the soft light.

“What was it that drew you to Molly?” she inquired.

Emily felt her eyes dampen as she recalled that day. Meeting new souls had always been her favorite part of being a seraphim, but this encounter felt different.

When she first saw Molly, standing there with her eyes darting around, something in the air shifted. There was a weight to Molly's presence that made Emily's heart ache, a palpable sadness that set her apart from the others.

“I… I was drawn to her because she seemed like she needed a friend. She looked lost in heaven. She was the first person I’d seen who looked almost upset to be there.” Rosie hummed intrigued

“So you started as friends? Oh I do love a good friends to lovers story. Why don’t you tell me some of your favorite memories together hmm?”

---

Molly

Molly tossed in the bed, her mind consumed by dreams of the past

 

She opened her eyes, feeling a familiar yet distant chill sweep through her small frame. She was standing in the dim light of a shabby apartment, her heart racing as recognition flooded over her like a wave. She knew this room. She knew this memory. But that would mean… 

Slowly, she raised her eyes, and there it was: on the bed, pale and drenched with sweat, lay her mama. The sight of her mother struck her like a punch to the gut, the reality of it sending ripples of dread through her small eight-year-old body. The room felt heavy with an unshakeable stillness, a silence broken only by the sickly sound of her mother’s labored breathing, clinging to the air like a bad omen. Outside, the streets of Brooklyn were eerily quiet, as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for what was to come. 

“Mamma", she heard herself whisper, the words thick with the weight of fear, and muffled by the thick cotton mask covering her nose and mouth. Her small fingers trembled as she reached for her mother’s hand, which lay limp and pale against the worn quilt. The warmth that had once radiated from her was gone, replaced by an unsettling chill. “Per favore, non lasciarmi.” [“Please, don’t leave me.”]

Her mother’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, clouded and distant. “Molly…” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Devi essere forte. Per i tuoi fratelli.” [“You need to be strong. For your brothers.”]

“Mamma, mi prenderò cura di loro,” [“Mama, I’ll take care of them,”] she promised, though the words felt hollow even as she said them. She wasn’t sure if she had the strength to keep all both afloat. “Farò tutto ciò che serve.” [“I’ll do whatever it takes.”] 

But her mother only smiled weakly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Sei una brava ragazza, Molly. Sono orgogliosa di te. Il mio piccolo angelo.” [“You’re a good girl, Molly. I’m proud of you. My little angel.”] 

Molly’s heart broke at those words. She wished she could do something—anything—to ease her mother’s suffering. She wished for the sickness that had spread through their neighborhood, claiming lives and leaving families shattered, to pass them by. But it had latched onto her family like a parasite, sucking the life from her mother day by day.

Outside, she could hear the faint sounds of sirens and hushed voices. The flu epidemic had become an unrelenting force, tearing through Brooklyn with no regard for age or status. Friends and neighbors were falling ill, their once-vibrant spirits extinguished by a fever that raged like wildfire. It felt surreal, as if the world had turned upside down, and the normalcy of life was slipping through her fingers. 

She remembered the day when they first heard about the outbreak. The panic had swept through their community like a storm, whispered warnings and fearful glances exchanged in hushed tones. Molly had watched as families barricaded themselves inside their homes, fear etched on their faces. She hadn’t thought it would touch them, hadn’t imagined that the sickness would reach her own mother. But here they were, trapped in a nightmare that felt more real than any story her mother had ever told her. 

Molly's gaze drifted to the small wooden crucifix hanging on the wall, a relic from a time when faith had felt more tangible. She found herself praying, though she wasn’t sure who—or what—she was praying to anymore. 

“Please God just let her stay with us a little longer,” she murmured, her heart aching. “I can’t do this without her.”

Her mother shifted slightly, as if sensing her presence. 

“Molly,” she rasped, her voice barely audible. “Devi promettermi... che non ti arrenderai. La vita è preziosa, anche quando è difficile.” [“You have to promise me… that you won’t give up. Life is precious, even when it’s hard.”] 

Molly felt tears streaming down her cheeks, her mother’s words cutting deeper than the reality of her situation. 

“Lo prometto, Mamma. Combatterò per te. Lo giuro.” [“I promise, Momma. I’ll fight for you. I swear it.”]

 

As the minutes turned into hours, the shadows in the room deepened. Molly held her mother’s hand tightly, willing her warmth to return, willing her heart to keep beating. But she could feel the fragile threads of life slipping away, each breath a little shallower, each moment a little longer. 

“Mamma… per favore,” [“Mama… please,”] she begged, her voice breaking. “Non andare!” [“Don’t go!”] 

 

But as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room into a somber twilight, Molly felt the inevitable pull of fate. Her mother’s breathing slowed, and Molly clung to her hand, the final moments stretching into eternity. And in that heart-wrenching silence, she knew her world was about to shatter, the pieces of her heart scattered like leaves in the wind, lost and drifting without direction.

And then, just like that, the light in her mother’s eyes dimmed, leaving behind a haunting emptiness that echoed in the walls of their home. Molly collapsed against her mother’s side, her sobs filling the room, mingling with the whispers of the flu that had stolen so many souls. She felt utterly alone, abandoned to face a world that had turned cruel and cold, and in that moment, the weight of her grief was almost unbearable.

As she relived that moment, the eight-year-old version of her felt the weight of sorrow pressing down, as if she were drowning in a sea of memories. She could see the flickering candlelight, smell the faint scent of lavender from her mother's handkerchief, and hear the creaking of the old wooden floors, the familiar sounds of home now twisted into a symphony of despair.

She closed her eyes, desperate to escape this painful memory, yet drawn back as she recalled what would happen next.

 

She heard the heavy footsteps of her father. He pulled the curtain separating the rooms aside. He was imposing, six feet tall with a face that rarely smiled. He looked between Molly and Maria

“Is she dead?” He asked. Molly trembled, unable to answer

“Answer me girl!” Enrico ordered. Molly nodded

“Yes Papa.” Enrico’s fists clenched. He stormed over, pushing Molly aside as he pressed his fingers to Marias neck, desperate to feel a pulse.

 

Nothing. His breathing became heavier.

 

“You did this.” He hissed. Molly looked up her eyes full of hurt and confusion

“I-“

“If you had taken better care of her this never would have happened!” Molly shook her head, fresh tears drenching her cheeks

“No-no papa. I asked you to bring a doctor! I told you-“

“You dare backtalk me girl?” Enrico roared. A sharp crack echoed through the air and Molly gasped grabbing her cheek. It was the first time her father had ever hit her. She looked up at him, terrified.

“Get out of my sight.” He demanded. Molly scrambled out the room, holding her red cheek.

 

---

Emily

“My favorite memories?” Emily repeated, her voice a melody of curiosity. Rosie nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. Emily took a moment to sift through the vast collection of moments they had shared over the past eighty years, a lifetime spent in each other's company. Just then, a memory flickered in her mind, illuminating her face with a radiant smile.

The scene shifted to a bustling shopping center, where Molly stood, looking around with wide eyes, a hint of anxiety etched across her features. The vibrant colors and endless choices seemed to swirl around her, leaving her feeling slightly overwhelmed. Emily, sensing the spider's unease, beamed at her with infectious energy.

“You can pick whatever you want!” she urged, her voice filled with warmth and excitement. Molly nodded slowly, her expression still clouded with uncertainty. After the infamous wedding dress incident™️,  Emily had decided that a shopping trip was just what her new companion needed.

Molly’s brow furrowed as she surveyed the array of options. “Hey, are you okay?” Emily asked gently, concern lacing her tone. Molly cleared her throat, her eyes darting around the room, searching for something familiar amidst the chaos.

“There’s just… there’s a lotta options,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Emily nodded, understanding the weight of the choices resting on Molly’s shoulders.

“I have an idea! Why don’t you just feel some fabrics and see if you like any of them?” she suggested brightly. Molly seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at this prospect, her posture relaxing as they began to navigate the store together.

As they walked, Emily excitedly grabbed a vibrant dress from a nearby rack, holding it up for Molly to see. “What do you think of this?” she asked, her eyes glinting with hope. Molly’s fingers gently brushed against the fabric, a mixture of curiosity and hesitation crossing her face. Emily didn't miss the flicker of confusion that briefly graced her features.

“It feels nice but…” Molly trailed off, her brow furrowing deeper.

“But what?” Emily prodded, intrigued.

“It’s pink,” Molly stated matter-of-factly, her discomfort palpable. Emily cocked her head, confusion mingling with concern.

“Yeah?” she asked, still not grasping the weight of Molly's words. Molly shifted her weight, looking increasingly uneasy.

“I’m not allowed to wear pink. Pink is a boys' color,” she explained, her voice tinged with the remnants of a childhood rule that seemed both absurd and poignant.

Emily frowned, her heart aching at the thought of feeling constrained by such arbitrary restrictions. “Do you like pink?” she inquired gently. There was a moment of hesitation before Molly nodded, her eyes glistening with the unspoken desire to embrace the color that had been denied to her.

“Then we’re getting it,” Emily declared with unwavering determination. Molly’s eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching in disbelief.

“No one gets to tell you what colors you can wear up here, Molly!” Emily said firmly, a fierce protectiveness blooming within her. For the first time, Emily saw a true smile grace Molly’s lips, as she looked at the pink dress- a bold symbol of freedom and choice. It seemed to Emily as if a beam of joy had broken through the clouds of doubt- and thus their newfound friendship  began.

---

Molly

Mollys world shifted again slowing as it became a location she knew all too well. 

Her father's speakeasy buzzed with life, the air thick with smoke and laughter. Men gathered around card tables, their voices rising and falling like a tide, while the jazz band played a lively tune in the corner. Twelve-year-old Molly stood at the entrance, heart racing as she caught her father’s gaze.

“Get in there, Molly!” he barked, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. “You know what to do. Distract the patrons. And if the cops show up, you pay ’em off.”

Molly swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in her stomach. She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she stepped further inside, the vibrant atmosphere swirling around her. It felt like stepping into another world—one filled with danger and excitement, where she had to play a part that didn’t quite fit.

As she moved through the crowded room, she forced a smile, her mind racing with how to catch the attention of the men at the tables. Flirting felt wrong; she was just a kid, but her father had insisted she act older, more mature. It was a necessary skill in their line of work, and she hated that she had to use it.

“Hey there, baby doll!” a man called out, his voice booming over the music. He leaned back in his chair, a cigar dangling from his lips, eyes glimmering with interest. “Come over here and chat with us!”

Molly hesitated for a moment, then walked over, her feet feeling heavy as she forced herself to adopt a confident posture. “What’s the big deal, boys?” she asked, injecting a playful lilt into her voice, even though the words felt foreign on her tongue.

“Just trying to have a good time. How about you, huh?” The man grinned, gesturing for her to sit on the edge of the table. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure.” His hand drifted up her leg, and she instinctively kicked it away, forcing a playful smile. Inside, however, her mind was reeling, repeating a desperate plea: “No... please, stop...”

She bit her lip, suppressing the urge to run away. “Well, you know how it is. Just here to keep the party going.”

Another man chimed in, “What’s your name, kid?”

“Molly,” she replied, forcing a giggle as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “And you’re all just a bunch of rowdy boys looking for trouble, aren’t you?”

The men laughed, leaning in closer, their attention shifting solely to her. “Maybe we are, but we’d rather have some fun with you than with the cards,” one said, his voice dripping with playful mischief.

“Is that so?” she said, trying to maintain her facade, though the words tasted bitter in her mouth. She couldn’t shake the discomfort curling in her stomach. “You think I’m here to entertain a bunch of gamblers?”

“Why not? You seem to be the most interesting thing in the room!” he shot back, and the others laughed again.

Molly forced another smile, her mind racing with thoughts of the cops. They had to stay distracted. “Well, I suppose I could keep you company for a bit, if that’s what you want.” she replied, attempting a flirtatious tone.

“Now we’re talking!” one man said, leaning closer, his breath heavy with liquor. “What do you say we have a little wager? If I win, you sit with me for the rest of the night.”

Molly felt a chill run down her spine. “And if you lose?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Then I’ll give you some extra cash to take home,” he said, winking.

She glanced over her shoulder, searching for any sign of trouble, her heart pounding louder than the music.

“Alright, but let’s keep it friendly,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, forcing herself to sound lighthearted despite the tension in the air.

Her new companion handed her a small glass filled with a clear liquid, the familiar warmth of moonshine.

“Her ya go, kid. You’re old enough to handle it,” he said with a grin, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Molly brought the glass to her lips, the pungent smell of alcohol assaulting her senses. “This is what the grown-ups choose drink?” she thought, uncertainty knotting her stomach. But with a quick nod of encouragement from her father, she took a gulp.

The moonshine hit her like a freight train. It burned her throat as it went down, igniting a fire in her chest.The harsh taste exploded in her mouth. It was rough and bitter, like old, sour corn mixed with something metallic and rancid.

She stifled a grimace, fighting against the urge to spit it out. “I can’t…” she thought, forcing herself to swallow despite the nausea rising in her throat. The aftertaste lingered, a harsh reminder of the raw alcohol that made her cheeks flush and her head spin slightly.

“Atta girl!” the gambler chuckled, oblivious to her struggle. “You’ll get used to it.”

Molly managed a weak smile, her stomach churning as she placed the glass down . “Don’t make me drink it...” she thought, wishing for the taste of something sweet or even the warm, comforting hug of her mother’s homemade cider instead. But here she was, forced to play the part of the grown-up in a world that felt far too heavy for her small shoulders.

As she glanced around at the boisterous crowd, she felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on her. She didn’t want to be here, drinking this awful stuff, but she knew there was no escape. Not now.

“Just remember, boys,” she added, injecting a playful warning into her tone. “I’m not just any gal; so ya better keep things interesting!”

They laughed again, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of power. She was controlling the narrative, even if it was a role she had been forced into. As she glanced around, looking for any sign of trouble.

The air in the speakeasy grew heavier as the door swung open, letting in a rush of cool night air. Molly’s heart dropped as she spotted the figures of two police officers stepping into the dimly lit room, their faces obscured by the smoke swirling around them. The laughter and music slowed to a murmur as patrons exchanged anxious glances, the tension palpable.

Molly’s mind raced as she pushed past the tables, weaving through the crowd. She knew what she had to do, but dread pooled in her stomach. As she approached the officers, their imposing presence made her feel small. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” she called out, forcing a confident smile as she planted herself in front of them. “What brings you here tonight?”

One officer, a tall man with a square jaw and a stern expression, turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “We’re just making our rounds, sweetheart. Heard some rumors about a little illegal operation happening in this joint.”

“Rumors, huh? Ya know how these places are,” she said, forcing a lightness into her voice. “People like to talk.”

The other officer smirked, clearly entertained. “Yeah, but it’s not every day we find a pretty girl standing guard at the door. How about you let us take a look inside?”

Molly took a step closer, the scent of cigarette smoke and whiskey clinging to her like a second skin. “I’d hate for you to ruin your night. It’s a private affair, and you know how it is—sometimes a little donation can go a long way in keeping the peace.”

The first officer crossed his arms, eyeing her skeptically. “A donation, huh? What are you suggesting?”

She felt her heart race as she summoned the courage to push through the discomfort. “Just a little something to keep things...quiet. You know how it goes.” She counted out a few crisp bills from her purse, holding them out with a forced smile. “For your trouble.”

The officers exchanged glances, and Molly held her breath, praying they wouldn’t press the issue. “You think this is going to make us look the other way?” the second officer asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t,” she replied, trying to sound casual, even as her stomach twisted. “But ya know as well as I do that sometimes it’s best to keep things quiet. I wouldn’t want you to have to explain to your boss why youse was here in the first place.” The first officer seemed to consider her words.

Her pulse quickened as she caught sight of her father in the corner, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. He pressed his lips to the side of his whiskey glass and Molly gulped. She knew what he was suggesting.

“And to sweeten the deal…” She took a deep breath, her cheeks heating up as she leaned in closer, her father’s glare burning into her. “You could have a little kiss for good luck. Just a friendly gesture to seal the deal.”

“Is that so?” the first officer replied, a grin spreading across his face. “You sure know how to negotiate.”

Molly fought the nausea that swelled in her stomach. She didn’t want to kiss anyone, especially not in a place like this, but she could see her father’s expression harden, and she knew she had to play her part.

“Alright then,” she said, trying to mask her unease. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his cheek, her heart racing as she felt the weight of his stubble against her skin. The moment was electric and nauseating all at once, and she pulled away, forcing a smile even as she fought back the urge to wipe her mouth clean.

The officers exchanged satisfied glances, and Molly felt a surge of anger mixed with shame. She hated how the kiss made her feel, the way it turned her stomach and left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Pleasure doing business witcha,” the first officer said, tucking the bills into his pocket. “You keep safe, sweetheart.”

As they turned to leave, Molly watched them go, the tension in the room slowly easing back to the usual hum of laughter and music. She felt her father’s glare on her, a mixture of anger and disappointment that cut deeper than any words.

“Well done.” he said curtly, but the praise felt hollow. She could feel the weight of his expectations pressing down on her, and as she turned back to the crowd, fighting down the nausea that filled her gut.

 

Notes:

Fun fact: pink was a "boys" color and blue was a "girls" color until about 1940!

 

June 1918 article from the trade publication Earnshaw's Infants' Department said, “The generally accepted rule is pink for the boys, and blue for the girls. The reason is that pink, being a more decided and stronger color, is more suitable for the boy, while blue, which is more delicate and dainty, is prettier for the girl."

Chapter 34: Let the Memory Live Again (Part 2)

Summary:

Reveal of how Molly & Emily fell in love... and angst of course

Similar to last one, snapshots of their life, Molly being zoinked out her mind, and Em talking to rosie.

Notes:

*RUNS FROM ANGRY MOB* I’m sorry this one took longer to write than anticipated 😭

CW: same as last one. last passage contains minor non graphic Emetophobia

Emily

Rosie smiled knowingly as Emily finished recounting another one of her favorite memories with Molly

“You really love this girl don’t ya?” Emily paused and looked up at the cannibal.

“Yes. Molly changed my life. She taught me I’m allowed to be my own being.” Rosie hummed

“I must say I’m surprised with all I’ve heard about heaven that they allowed a seraphim and virtuous soul to date.” Emily laughed

“Oh believe me. They weren’t happy about it. They were afraid-” Emily cut herself off lost in thought for a moment

“Afraid of what hon?” Emily looked down at there hands

“Afraid I'd end up like Lucifer. Falling first for a mortal, and then falling from heaven. I guess…. I guess they were right.” Emily felt tears threaten to escape her eyes. She brushed them away quickly

“I see.” Rosie said. She reached out her hand. Emily took it immediately. She didn’t know why, but she trusted this cannibal. Not necessarily  with meal prep, but despite her unusual appetite, she seemed to genuinely care about her relationship.

“Alastor told me you fell for sticking up for the snake man yes?” Emily nodded

“And implying that Adam deserved… hell.” Rosie let out a loud cackle at that
“I knew I liked you girlie.” Emily smiled

“Let me ask you something. Do you regret falling in love with Molly?” Emily shook her head fervently

“No. Never.”
“I’d love to hear the story of when you realized you were in love with each other.” Emily shifted in her seat

“It wasn’t… quite as simple as that.” Rosie raised an eyebrow intrigued

“Well then. I'd like to hear this even more now!”

————————————————————— Heaven, 1957 

Emily sat at a small outdoor table at the currently closed Divine Bliss Cafe, tapping her finger anxiously. She beamed when she spotted Molly in her black blouse and pink poodle skirt and frantically waved the angel over.

“Molly! Over here!” She called. Molly rolled her eyes as she sat down across from the seraphim

“I saw ya Em. We’re the only folks in here.” Emily blushed

“Right. Sorry.” Molly shot her a look

“Erm… not? Sorry?” She squeaked out. Molly nodded in approval.

“So uh? I gotcha note. You said we needed to talk? Little ominous tiny.” Molly said looking slightly anxious. Emily frowned

“One, I’m not tiny. Two, I… I have something I want to tell you.” Molly nodded slowly

“Okay…”

Emily took a deep breath looking extremely nervous

“Okay… how do I start this…”

“Em? you’re kinda freaking me out here.”

“I’m in love with you!” The seraphim blurted out. Molly was silent as she blinked, processing what Emily had just said. She visibly stiffed and pulled back in her chair

“I love you Molly.” Emily repeated quieter this time. Mollys shoulders shook

“No you don’t.” The spider said shaking her head.

“What? Molly of course I do!”

“Please don’t!” Molly begged looking up her eyes full of tears

“Molly im sorry I don’t understand. I love you. I know it’s one-sided. And that’s okay. I just needed you to know.”

Molly just kept shaking her head

“You-you don’t understand… everyone who says that… I’ve lost them Em. I can’t- I don’t want to lose you too.” Emily reached her hand out

“You’re not going to lose me. I’m sorry for loving you the way I do. My feelings were never supposed to be a burden for you.” Molly’s shoulders continued too shake, her head bowed as she found herself unable to meet Emilys eyes

“God I feel like such an asshole.” The spider hissed as she pressed her upper hands into her eyes

“Molly it’s okay-“

“No. No it’s fucking not! Ugh how do I say this. Em… You mean everything to me. I wish I could be the one for you. But I… I don’t have a good experience with love. Or relationships or any of that shit. I just- I can’t. Not now at least. You deserve someone who can love you back.” Emily was silent

“If you never want to see me again I-“ Molly started. Emily’s head shot up

“What? No no no! Molly. I still want to be your friend. I promise, I wont do anything a friend wouldn’t okay?” Molly looked up at Em before laughing as she dried her eyes

“You truly are a fucking angel” Emily giggled

“Well... I don’t know if I’m a…. Freaking angel but…” Molly rolled her eyes affectionately at her friend. Emily cleared her throat

“And hey…. If you ever want to try to be more than friends… just let me know okay? I’d be happy to take you on a date” Molly was silent for a moment before nodding

“Yeah. Maybe someday.”

---

Molly

Molly’s mind warped again until she found herself standing outside a drugstore, her arm linked with her husbands. Disgust filled her gut

“Enzo?” She heard herself ask. The man turned to her, a fake smile on her face

“Yes bambolina?”
“Do you mind I stop here to grab a few things?” He frowned

“Alone?” Molly nodded

“You know I don’t like you walking places alone darling. Pretty thing like you?”

“I need to purchase my…. Ladies things.” Enzo’s face twisted in disgust as he released her arm. He counted off a few bills before handing them to her.

“I see. Well hurry back. I’ll be speaking with the grocer.” Molly nodded, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and hurried off to the drugstore. She paused outside the door, catching her reflection, and adjusting her green lensed sunglasses that hid the faded bruise underneath. It had been about a year since she and Enzo had gotten married, and she needed something to help with the pain the bruises and other injuries caused.

A bell rang as she went inside. The drug store owner looked up at her.

“Hello there miss- we have a special on-“

“Hey Giuseppe. Two bottles of laudanum please.” “No.” Molly begged her past self “Don’t.”

Past Molly walked up the counter and placed down the bills Enzo gave her.

“You got a script?” Molly frowned and glared at him

“Why the fuck would I need a script? It’s laudanum”

The store owner shrugged

“Sorry toots. No can do then.” Molly leaned on the counter and glared at him

“And why the fuck not? Never been a problem before.” Giuseppe pointed to a poster on the wall talking about the “Federal Bureau of Narcotic”

“Gov’s on my ass. Feds made a new enforcement agency. Unless you gotta script. Ain’t nothin’ I can do.” Molly sighed and began to walk out of the store before she remembered she had one more card to pull.

“Ya know… sure would be a shame if I told my daddy and brothers bout this.” Giuseppe stiffened and looked at her more closely. Molly tuned around and flashed him a smile. Giuseppe’s face went pale.

“Shit… you’re Enzo’s girl.” Molly forced out a  giggle. “Yup! Sure am. So how bout you give me what I want. Or I can call up my pops…. But I doubt you want that.”

“One moment.” Giuseppe said quickly. He hurried into a back room before emerging with the two requested bottles.

“Uh. On the house miss. apologies about the inconvenience.” Molly nodded before pocketing them and the bills.

“Pleasure doin’ business witcha. oh. And Giuseppe? Never question me buying this shit again.” The drugstore owner nodded frantically.

---

Emily

“Oh you poor dear!” Rosie said empathetically. emily didn’t know how to respond

“Well at least yo got together in the end! How long did it take? Five, ten years?”

“Thirty six.” Rosie blinked surprised

“My goodness! Quite a long time then. Did you see anyone else in the meantime?” Emily shrugegd

“I tried but… I couldn’t bear to ask anyone else out.  My heart had chosen Molly. We were friends for fifty years before we began to date.”

Rosie smiled, her teeth glinting “a lifetime of friendship before a love story.” Emily nodded

“So how did you finally convince her?” Rosie asked.

————————————————————— Heaven, August 12, 1993

The two girls sat in the park, they had jsut finished watching flying lessons, Molly poking fun at the new angels and Emily scolding her and defending them. Molly took a deep breath

“Uh. Hey Em?” Emily turned to her

“Yeah?” Molly fidgeted

“If the offer still stands… I think I’m ready for that date.” Emily felt her heart nearly explode with happiness as she tackled the spider in a bear hug, knocking her off the bench, the two of them landed on the ground laughing

“So… is that a yes then?” Molly asked pulling the seraphim up

“Omigosh omigosh yes! Yes! Yes! I have to think of something to do. oh my goodness um”

“I heard somethin’ bout a meteor shower tonight.” Molly offered. Emily’s face lit up
“yes that will be perfect! I’ll bring blankets and we can watch the stars and-“ Molly laughed embracing the seraphim

“im sure whatever you do will be great. Dont stress too much okay? I’ll meet you hear this evening when the sun sets.”

Emily could barely contain her excitement as she prepared for the date. She ran out the door, clutching the bundle of blankets. Molly sat on the bench and gave her a shy smile.

“This is my first date, so please excuse any awkwardness on my part.”  Emily said as she spread the blankets out

“Don’t worry, it’s the first for me too.” Molly said reassuringly.

“Wait really? But you were married? If you didn’t date then-“ Molly cleared her throat cutting Emily off

“Id rather not talk bout that.”

“Right sorry I-“

“Enough apologizing. Look! It’s starting!”

The two girls laid on the blankest as they watched the beautiful Perseid meteor shower. After a while, Emily felt Molly’s gaze on her.

“You’re supposed to look at the stars, not me.” she chastised jokingly

“You’re better to look at.” The spider replied with a smirk.

“Molly!” Emily shrieked embarrassed. The spider just laughed, and hesitantly reached for Emily’s hand. Emily took it enthusiastically as they continued to watch the stars.

"the stars look beautiful tonight..." Emily said wistfully her eyes locked onto the starry night sky. "don't you think so...?" she continued as her hand reached out to the sky.

"...yeah stellina. They do” Molly responded her eyes locked on a distracted Emily

Emily turned to her “what does that word mean? stellina?” Molly smiled “it’s a secret.” She teased. Emily giggled

“I’ll figure it out!” She said. Molly hummed

“I know you will.” She said quietly.

---

Molly

Molly’s mind warped again, but this time it was not to a place she recognized, instead she stood in a white void. Her chest tightened as the void around her seemed to stretch into eternity. The whiteness felt suffocating, yet Emily stood before her, more distant than she had ever been. But it wasn’t just Emily—behind her, the faint silhouettes of familiar figures emerged. Her family. Her father, brothers, and—worst of all—Enzo, arms crossed, their faces twisted in disappointment and scorn.

Molly’s heart sank as she took a shaky step back. “No... no, this isn’t real.”

Emily’s expression hardened, a coldness in her eyes that Molly had never seen before. “This is as real as it gets, Molly.” Her voice echoed unnaturally in the void. “You’ve always feared this, haven’t you? Losing everyone who mattered the second you let your guard down. You did it to yourself.”

Molly’s eyes darted frantically between Emily and her family. Her father’s disapproving stare pierced her, a scowl etched deep on his face. “You’ve always been a disappointment, bambolina,” he hissed, the nickname now dripping with venom. "Weak. All you do is run, hiding behind false strength."

Her brothers stood beside him, their faces blank, but their silence spoke volumes. Enzo’s sneer was the worst of all, his eyes glinting with triumph, as if he had been right about her all along. “You thought you could escape me?” he taunted. “You're still mine, Molly. You’ll never be free.”

Tears welled in Molly’s eyes, her hands trembling as she pressed them against her chest. “No... please. I’ve changed... I’ve—”

“You’ve changed?” Emily’s voice was sharp, cold. She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “All you’ve done is push everyone away, Molly. You pushed me away. You never let me in, never trusted that I could handle loving you. All that fear, it consumed you... and now look where you are.”

Molly shook her head frantically. “No, I didn’t want to hurt you. I just—”

“You were too afraid of losing me,” Emily interrupted, her voice dripping with disappointment. “You thought you were protecting yourself, but all you did was destroy what we had.” She took another step forward, and Molly stumbled back, her heart pounding in her chest.

“I-I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Molly whispered, her voice shaking. “I thought... I thought I was keeping you safe. I thought if I didn’t let you get too close, you wouldn’t end up hurt.”

“And now?” Emily’s voice softened, though the coldness remained. “Who’s really hurt, Molly? Me? Or you?”

Molly’s breath hitched, and her eyes flicked back to her family. Nico stepped forward and scoffed. “You always thought you were better than us, didn’t you? Pretending to be strong. But you were weak, always running away from the truth.”

Enzo’s voice slithered into her ears. “You thought you could hide from who you are, but you’ll always belong to me. No matter where you go.”

“No!” Molly cried out, her voice raw with desperation. “I don’t belong to anyone! Not you, not anyone!”

Anthony's form flickered, his face softening for a brief moment, a look of sadness flashing across his eyes. “Then why are you still here, Molly? Why are you still running from the people who love you?”

The void seemed to constrict around her, and Molly’s vision blurred with tears. She felt trapped, suffocating under the weight of her worst fears—the fear of losing the people she loved, the fear of failing them, of never being enough.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t want to lose you, Emily. I don’t want to lose everything.”

Emily’s expression softened just slightly, but the coldness remained. “You already have, Molly. That’s what happens when you keep running.”

Behind Emily, Molly’s family faded into the distance, leaving her alone with the weight of her regrets. She reached out, but her hand fell short, grasping at the empty void. She could feel the distance between them widening, the space growing colder with every passing second.

“Emily...” Molly's voice cracked as the last of her hope began to shatter.

“You did this to yourself,” Emily whispered, before she too began to fade, her figure dissolving into the whiteness, leaving Molly alone in the suffocating void.

Molly collapsed to her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The weight of her loneliness crushed her, the fear she had tried to bury for so long now consuming her whole. She had pushed everyone away. And now-

“-olly…”

The voice, barely audible at first, flickered like a faint light in the darkness, struggling to break through the thick fog of fear. Molly’s breath hitched, her mind trapped in the nightmare, but there was something—someone—calling her back.

“Molly… hey, come on… listen to me.” Cherri’s voice, though faint, was steady. “It’s not real. Whatever you’re seein’... it ain’t real.”

Molly’s body trembled violently, still overwhelmed by the crushing weight of her hallucination, but that voice—Cherri’s voice—it was like a tiny spark, a glimmer in the suffocating void.

“Open your eyes Molly, look at me… I’m right here.” The warmth of a hand on her shoulder—real, tangible—grounded her just enough to let her cling to that faint spark.

“You’re safe… none of it’s real.  May have been real in the past. But it aint now. You’re safe.” The spider forced her eyes open. Blinking rapidly, Molly slowly began to focus, her vision clearing as she took in the dimly lit room around her. She was on the ground tangled in sheets. Cherri Bomb was crouched beside her, her usual sharp expression softened with concern.

“Cherr-?” Molly’s voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper, cut off as she began to dry heave. She shivered involuntarily, her heart still racing, her breath shallow and uneven. The nightmare clung to her like smoke, her mind struggling to separate the dark illusions from reality.

“Yeah, it’s me bitch,” Cherri said gently, her grip on Molly’s shoulder tightening a little, as if to anchor her to the present.

 

Notes:

"the worst she can say is no"
Emily: so that was a lie

Also: Molly 🤝 Blitzø hallucination time

Chapter 35: Cherri to the Rescue

Summary:

I stop torturing Molly (at this time) lol. Cherri is a girls girl.

CW: if u have emetophobia, u might want to skip this one. I wouldnt consider anything graphic, but Molly does "dry heave" and almost get sick a few times.

Vaggie crossed her arms, eyeing Cherri’s bag with a mix of suspicion and determination.

“Alright, Cherri. Standard security check. No drugs or weapons allowed past here.”
Cherri frowned, rolling her eye.

“Seriously? I’m not hiding anything dangerous. Just some stuff for Molly.”

"Vaggie are you sure this is really necc-" Charlie started

"Babe you want me to protect this hotel. Thats what i'm doing. The exorcist said firmly. "No exceptions. Let me see what you’ve got Cherri”
With a reluctant sigh, Cherri unzipped her bag and laid the contents out for inspection. Vaggie rifled through it, pulling out a few towels, a water bottle and a packet of electrolyte powder.

“Just towels and what’s this powder?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s electrolyte powder bitch. It’s for when she’s dehydrated or throwing up,” Cherri explained, exasperation lacing her voice. “I’m here to help, not cause trouble. I didn’t even bring my fucking bombs.”
Vaggie scrutinized the items, even going as far as to open the bottle and take a sniff, before giving the cyclops a reluctant nod.

“Uh, you’re good to go, I guess.”
A loud crash sounded from upstairs. Cherri’s head shot up.

“Fuck. That was probably Molly.” She bolted toward the stairs, then paused to look back at Charlie.  

“Well, princess, you gonna show me where Molly’s room is?” she demanded. Charlie unfroze, nodding as she sprinted up the stairs, Cherri hot on her heels. When they reached Molly’s door, it was locked.  

“Shit,” Charlie muttered, rifling through her pockets for her keys. Just then, Cherri heard a retching sound from a nearby room.  

“Move!” she shouted, pushing Charlie aside as she kicked in Angel’s door. It swung open with a loud crash, and Charlie was about to chastise Cherri for damaging hotel property until she saw the scene before them.  
Molly was tangled in the bedsheets, huddled on the floor over a pool of yellow bile. Sweat matted her hair and fur, and tear tracks marred her face, smearing the makeup she’d clearly been wearing. Cherri rushed to her side, grabbing a towel from her bag to cover the mess before Molly collapsed into it.  

“Hey, Molly,” Cherri said softly, her voice gentle in a way that Charlie had never heard from the cyclops. The princess stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Cherri shot her a shooing gesture, and Charlie quietly closed the door behind her. Molly didnt respond her eyes squeezed shut

“Molly… hey, cmon… listen to me.” Cherri’s voice cut through the fog of fear, steady despite the chaos. “It’s not real. Whatever you’re seeing... it ain’t real.”  
Molly’s body trembled violently, the weight of her hallucination pressing down on her, but that voice—Cherri’s voice—was a tiny spark, flickering in the suffocating void.  

“Open your eyes, Molly. Look at me… I’m right here.” The warmth of Cherri’s hand on her shoulder grounded her, a tangible reminder of reality.

“You’re safe… none of it’s real. It may have been real in the past, but it ain’t now.”  
With a shaky breath, Molly forced her eyes open, blinking rapidly as the dimly lit room came into focus. Cherri Bomb crouched beside her, concern softening her usual sharp expression.  

“Cherr-?” Molly's voice was barely a whisper, cut off by another dry heave. She shivered involuntarily, her heart racing and breath shallow. The nightmare clung to her like smoke, her mind fighting to separate dark illusions from reality.  

“Yeah, it’s me, bitch,” Cherri replied gently, tightening her grip on Molly’s shoulder. The cyclops grimaced, waiting for her to catch her breath.

“Think ya done getting sick for now?" Molly was silent for a moment. She nodded before groaning 

"fuck...bad idea...owwww" she moaned squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Cherri winced in sympathy

"You okay if i touch you?" she asked. Molly gave her a thumbs up with one of her lower hands

"Can you just-" Molly gagged "can you tell me where you're gonna-" 

"Course." Cherri said nodding in understanding.

"Imma get your legs untangled from the blankets. gimme a thumbs up if thats okay." Molly did so. Cherri worked quickly and carefully untangling the spider. Molly remained on the ground supporting her weight all four arms. 

“Can I help you sit up?” Cherri asked. Molly nodded though she looked nervous at the idea. Cherri slowly maneuvered her until the spider was sitting supported by the bed frame. Cherri kept one arm on her shoulder as she reached into her back, pulling out the water bottle and a packet of electrolyte powder. She ripped the packet open with her teeth. Holding the bottle between her legs she twisted it open and poured the powder inside before recapping and shaking it. 

“Here. Try and take a few sips of this for me? It’s Sinner’s Splash, an electrolyte drink. Make ya feel less like shit.”
Molly looked between her and the bottle, confusion and uncertainty etched on her face. 

“Fuck right. 1930s. Alright, Mol, listen up. Electrolytes is like… well, when you’re sweatin’ bullets or pukin’ your guts out, you lose all these important bits, like salt and water, yeah? That’s why you feel all shaky and weak. Sinner’s Splash is this drink that puts all that stuff back into your body. It’s got water to keep you from dryin’ out, salts to keep your muscles workin’, and a little sugar to give ya a quick boost. Way better than just drinkin’ water ‘cause it hits your system faster. Think of it like a quick fix to stop you from feelin’ like roadkill.” She rambled. Please Molly. She begged mentally. The spider seemed to be able to grasp some of what she was saying 

“So It’s like broth or soup?” She asked, her voice sounding hoarse from the earlier vomiting. Cherri shrugged 

“Yeah I guess. But this shits fancier. Try a few small sips.” Cherri flipped up the straw on the bottle and held it to Molly's lips. The spider tried to raise her hand to grab the bottle , wanting to hold it herself, but her arm fell really back to the side. Frustration  was evident in her eyes.

“I… I got this,” she whispered, attempting to lift her arm again, but it just wouldn’t cooperate.
Cherri frowned, her heart aching for her friend.

“Come on, Mol. You don’t have to push yourself right now. Just let me help, alright?”
Molly glanced at the bottle, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“I feel… shaky,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Exactly. That’s why you need this,” Cherri urged gently. “Just a few sips. Trust me, it’ll make a difference.”
Taking a deep breath, Molly finally relented.

“Okay… just a bit,” she murmured, her voice trembling. 
Cherri smiled softly, lifting the bottle to Molly’s lips again.

“That’s it. Just a little sip.” As the cool liquid hit Molly’s tongue, her expression shifted, a flicker of relief sparking in her eyes.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Cherri encouraged, watching as Molly’s expression shifted from hesitation to a hint of understanding.
Molly hummed in agreement, still weary but grateful.

“Thanks, Cherri. I… I don’t… I don’t like needing help” she admitted, her voice less rough than before. 
Cherri chuckled lightly, her smile widening.

“No one gets a medal for doin’ it all alone. Just focus on gettin’ better, yeah?”
Molly smiled faintly, feeling a bit more hopeful.

“Yeah… I can do that.”
Molly tried to nod, the effort leaving her more drained than before, but she managed a few more small sips. 
Cherri felt a mix of hope and protectiveness wash over her, noting that the small muscle tremors that had been plaguing Molly's hands seem to be dissipating. She chuckled as Molly stubbornly managed to raise her hand and weakly grip the half empty bottle. 

“I… I got it now.” The spider said. Cherri let go slowly, the bottle slid a little in Molly's grip, but she managed to support the base of it with one of her other hands. The spider slowly continued drinking the liquid. Cherri stayed beside her. 

"Kay. wanna get back on the bed?" she asked noting that the spider had begun to shiver. Molly hesitated.

“Got sick on it." she mumbled. Cherri examined the bed to find that yup. She was right. 

“Eh don't worry bout that. i brought a shitload of towels with me. i’ll get it covered up so you don't have to lay in it" she was just finishing covering the bedsheet with towels when she heard soft sniffling. She turned and saw the spider crying

"Molly? hey talk to me.” 

"Tony's gonna be so mad." she croaked. 

"Huh?" Cherri asked confused

"i wrecked his bed." she said breaking down into full sobs. Right. Angel's real name was Anthony. Cherri hummed and sat down crosslegged beside the spider. She was about to put her arm around her before she remembered Molly's request

"Can i put my arm around you?" Molly nodded wincing at the motion

"Stop nodding you gumby." Cherri chided wrapping her arm around her. Molly sniffled and leaned her head on Cherri's shoulder. 

"It'll be okay. He wont be mad. I promise. I mean, ya guys have the tiny chaos cleaner and what like four fuckers with magic? Plus I think we both know you brothers had grosser things than vom on his bed. I mean have you seen some of the guys he's slept with?"  That got a giggle out of the spider. 

"Molly? do ya wanna change into something more comfortable?" Cherri asked glancing down at her sweat soaked dress. Molly nodded. Cherri looked through Angels wardrobe, rolling her eyes fondly when she found a nightgown. Because of course Angel would own something like that 

"This should fit ya." she said. She approached the sister before pausing

"Molly. hey can ya look at me?" she did so her eyes blinking heavily 

"It okay with you if I help ya change? or can ya do it yourself?” Molly pointed at Cherri, the straw still between her lips

"You want me to help?" Cherri confirmed. Molly nodded. Cherri nodded and kneeled down in front of the spider taking the now empty bottle from her hands. 

"Okay. lean forward for me so I can unzip ya."
Molly leaned against the cyclops  as she pulled down the zipper. 

"Mkay now both sets of hands up." she instructed as he pulled the dress off over her head. Molly crossed her arms over her chest self consciously. Noting this Cherri made a point to keep her eye from straying from the spiders face. 

"Hey. Imma put this nightgown on ya, and then unhook ya bra. you think you can manage getting it off on your own?" molly nodded gratefully. 

“Shoes on or off?” Cherri asked. Molly looked at her confused, pulling her bra out of the bottom of the nightgown 

“Off? Who would want them on?” Cherri snickered

“Your brother.” Molly made a face causing the cyclops to laugh. 

"Wanna lay down now?" 
Molly hummed in agreement. She was practically falling asleep on Cherri's shoulder 

"Okay. Can i help you up?"

"I can do-" Molly unsuccessfully attempted to stand almost falling before Cherri grabbed her under her upper arms. Molly yelped 

"Sorry shit. Sorry. didn't have time to ask. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself" Molly grunted 

"You good if I put my arm around your waist?" Cherri asked. Molly grimaced

"Taking that as a no. How bout if you put your arm around my waist, would that be okay?" Molly was silent

"I need an answer spidey”

"Okay." Molly said quietly wrapping her two right arms around Cherri’s waist. Cherri  directed them to the bed  and helped the taller girl sit on the edge, her feet touching the floor. Molly fell backwards onto the mattress with an "oof" and let out a hysterical giggle. Cherri watched her silently until the giggling died down. 

"Hey. Lets make a deal okay?" Molly’s eyes went wide with fear 

"Fuck. Shit. bad wording. Not like that. Can we agree that I'll ask before touching you unless you're about to get hurt or are unable to answer me?" Molly hesitated 

“Nothing below the waist?" 
 Cherri nodded

"Yeah. I can agree to that. Okay. Can i move you so you're more comfortable? Gimme a thumbs up if thats okay. And don't nod your head ya bitch. Your brains scrambled up enough already." Molly giggled and gave the cyclops a thumbs up. Cherri helped adjust her so she was laying comfortably, propped up with pillows. 

"Kay. How many blankets you want?" molly shrugged 

"Aw cmon bitch just tell me."

"Three?" Molly asked. Cherri nodded and grabbed three clean soft blankets and tucked the spider in. She was about to walk to the chair in the corner, prepared to scroll her on phone until the real withdrawal shit started when molly grabbed her wrist

"Cherri?" Molly's voice sounded small. 

"What up bitch?" 
Molly didn’t reply but her grip on the cyclops wrist tightened. 
Cherri felt her heart break. She remembered  Angel doing the same thing when he’d come over after a shit day with Val. In his inebriated state he’d called her “Molly” quite a few times and babbled about how sharing a bed with his sister made him feel safe.  

“Hey Molly. Would it be okay if I laid on the bed with you? im kinda tired. ” Cherri asked. They both knew this was a lie but Molly appreciated not needing to ask. 
She gave cherri a thumbs up. 
Cherri shifted to the opposite side of the bed, laying on top of the towels and blankets, leaving plenty of space for Molly.

“I’m gonna be right here, okay? And don’t worry—I ain’t gonna pull any shit.”
Molly rolled over, a sleepy hum escaping her lips.

“I know. I trust you, Cherri.”
A few hours later, Niffty popped her head in, giggling as she snapped a quick picture of Cherri and Molly sprawled together on the bed.

Notes:

Note to future self: do not take nightime meds before writing chapter. u will fall asleep with computer in ur lap and not upload it on the weekend

Chapter 36: The Weight of Silence

Summary:

Emily, aided by Rosie’s wise words, confronts her fears about love and vulnerability,

 

DO NOT DISCUSS THE (POSSIBLY) LEAKED SHOW SPOILERS PLS

I have not seen them. I do not want to see them.

Notes:

I LIVE!

we are going to pretend my country is not a steaming orange dumpster fire rn.

Everything is fine. I write the funny angel spider fic. EVERYTHING IS FINEEEE

Rosie’s emporium was heavy with unspoken emotions, the air thick and suffocating as Emily sat across from Rosie. She tried to stay calm and mask the storm raging inside her, but her emotions were all-consuming, and the more she fought them, the more they seemed to close in on her.

Rosie sat with her in silence for a moment.  There was a softness in her expression, something that told Emily that the sinner understood the turmoil she was going through. But she wasn’t sure how to process that.

“There’s something you’re not tellin’ me. What are you afraid of, hon?” Rosie’s voice was gentle but insistent.

Emily’s hands trembled as they twisted together in her lap, trying to hold onto something solid.

"I... I just..." Her voice cracked, the vulnerability slipping through.

“What if she didn’t fall from heaven for me? What if she fell because she wanted to see her family, and I was just… a way to escape?" Her shoulders shook as the words tumbled out in a rush, and immediately, her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror at what she had just admitted, her vulnerability piercing through the facade she’d tried to maintain.

Rosie watched her, letting the silence settle between them before reaching out a hand and resting it on Emily’s.

"Listen, honey," Rosie said, her voice soft yet steady. "People don’t do the things Molly does just for a way out. When ya fall from that high a place, it’s because somethin’ in you knows you’re givin’ up everything else. She didn’t come all the way down here just for a visit." Rosie’s eyes shone with a knowing glint.

"She’s here because she wants you."

Emily’s face flushed, her defenses slipping as Rosie’s words found their mark. But even with that reassurance, the doubt lingered in her mind, digging its claws in.

"But I don’t always feel… worthy of that," she admitted, her voice trembling.

"And there it is," Rosie murmured.

"Sugar, love isn’t about bein’ perfect or worthin’ it. It’s about bein’ there even when you’re scared, even when you’re flawed. Molly chose you, and she’s scared too. But that don’t mean she don’t love you."

Emily was silent for a beat. She fidgeted, fingers twisting around each other in her lap, her gaze downcast.

"I just… I want to protect her," she whispered, the tremor in her voice betraying her worry. Her mind replayed the last time she’d seen Molly’s fear, her vulnerability, and it twisted at her insides.

Rosie tilted her head, regarding Emily with a thoughtful, almost maternal warmth.

"Did ya ever think maybe she’s tryin’ to protect you too?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Emily’s brow furrowed, her eyes lifting to meet Rosie’s gaze.

"I know she wants to protect me," she said, almost defensively.

"She shot at a sinner who tried to hurt me…" She trailed off, but Rosie’s raised hand silenced her gently before she could continue.

"Hold up, hon," Rosie murmured.

"Let me rephrase that. Did ya ever think that maybe Molly’s not tellin’ ya who hurt her because she’s tryin’ to protect you?"

Emily’s frown deepened as the question settled into her mind, swirling around in thoughts she hadn’t considered.

"I can handle one sinner," she said, as if by saying it aloud, she could convince herself, and Rosie, of her strength.

Rosie’s laugh was light but tinged with sadness.

"Oh, I’m sure ya can, sugar. You’re stronger than most." Her gaze softened.

"But Molly… she couldn’t. Not on Earth and not here. There’s somethin’ about how the human brain works, Emily." She tapped the side of her head.

"Fear’s a powerful thing. It ain’t easy to love someone who’s afraid to be loved. And truth be told she’s probably terrified—not just for herself but for you, too."

Emily’s heart clenched, her gaze dropping as the realization hit her.

"She thinks he’ll hurt me," she murmured, more to herself than to Rosie.

Rosie nodded, her expression steady.

"Exactly. Molly might be carryin’ more weight than she’s lettin’ on. Protectin’ you could be what’s keepin’ her silent. She doesn’t want to see you hurt—or worse, lose you."

The words wrapped around Emily’s heart, squeezing until she could hardly breathe. The guilt, the confusion, everything she thought she knew about their relationship, all of it collided in a moment of clarity.

“I… I never thought of it like that,” Emily whispered, the weight of Rosie’s words pressing down on her chest.

Rosie’s expression softened, her smile gentle but tinged with sadness.

“That’s ‘cause when we care about someone that much, it’s easy to get caught up in wantin’ to shield ‘em. But protectin’ ain’t just about fightin’ battles, Emily. Sometimes it’s about knowin’ when to let the other person share the load.”

The words settled heavily on Emily, and for the first time, she saw herself in a different light. She had always prided herself on her strength, on her ability to push her own emotions aside to do whatever it took to keep the people around her happy. But maybe she’d been so focused on Molly’s struggles that she hadn’t noticed her own faults.

Emily looked down, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I’m not perfect, Rosie," she admitted, a raw honesty coloring her words.

"Sometimes… I get scared too. I hate it, but I don’t know how to let her in all the way. I guess a part of me is afraid."

Emily’s hands stilled in her lap, her mind racing. Protecting Molly—she had been so focused on doing that, on keeping her safe, that she had never considered that maybe, just maybe, Molly had been trying to do the same for her. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

“I… I’ve been so afraid of losing her,” Emily admitted quietly, her voice trembling slightly,

"But maybe... I’ve been the one pushing her away without even realizing it."

Rosie’s smile deepened, but there was no joy in it.

“Sometimes, sugar, we get so caught up in our own fears that we forget we’re not the only ones with ‘em.”

Emily’s heart ached at the thought of Molly, the silence that had settled between them like a wall neither of them seemed able to scale. The weight of the unspoken stretched between them, a gap that neither of them could bridge no matter how hard they tried. Molly’s secrets felt like an unseen burden, one that Emily couldn’t touch, couldn’t help carry, and it gnawed at her from the inside out. The thought that Molly was holding onto things so painful, things she hadn’t shared with anyone, left Emily feeling helpless like she was standing on the outside of her own relationship, unable to understand the deeper fears and wounds that Molly kept hidden.

She felt that same gnawing guilt, the heavy weight of not knowing everything Molly had endured. It was like a sharp, constant reminder that she wasn’t enough, that there was a part of Molly she couldn’t reach, no matter how hard she tried. The feeling of being kept at arm’s length by the person she loved most was unbearable, and it was only getting worse with each passing day.

“Molly might be ashamed. It sounds to me like someone brought up something real bad from her past,” Rosie said, her voice softening, the words gentle and understanding. She reached for Emily’s hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “Do you have any idea what might have happened?”

Emily’s eyes squeezed shut, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. The memories of realizing that Molly had come to her room, how she had slept in Emily’s bed all alone, and how Molly had pulled away from her touch—it all came rushing back in a rush of sharp, painful clarity. She swallowed hard, her voice cracking as she spoke, the words hard to get out.

“I… yes. I mean, not exactly. But… she slept in my room alone the night after it happened, and… the next day, she didn’t want me to touch her.” Emily’s throat tightened, the confession leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She hated that she hadn’t been able to do more, hated that she had missed the signs, that she hadn’t seen how deeply Molly was affected by whatever it was that had happened to her. Rosie’s gaze softened with understanding, and she exchanged a knowing look with the seraphim. She didn’t need to say anything; Emily could see that Rosie had already pieced together what Emily was too afraid to say.

“I see.” Rosie’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as though she knew how much this was weighing on Emily.

“Emily, do you think Molly could be ashamed of what happened?”

The question hit Emily like a wave crashing against a jagged cliff. Her stomach twisted violently, a sickening sensation flooding her chest as she realized just how deeply Molly’s silence was rooted in something much darker than she had anticipated. The idea that Molly might be ashamed of whatever had happened was a truth Emily hadn’t fully considered until now, and it hit her harder than she could have imagined. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to hold herself together, but the weight of the silence between her and Molly grew heavier with each passing second. Every unanswered question, every moment of avoidance, it all seemed to point to something Emily wasn’t ready to confront.

“I don’t know what to do, Rosie,” Emily whispered, her voice small, breaking under the weight of her fears.

“I just want to protect her. I want to be there for her, but… but maybe I’ve been too blind to see what she’s really afraid of.” Her hands trembled as she clasped them together in her lap, as if trying to hold on to something, anything, that would keep her from losing herself in this overwhelming sense of uncertainty.

Rosie’s hand found hers again, resting lightly but firmly, grounding her in the moment.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, hon,” she said, her voice calm and steady, filled with the kind of wisdom only time and experience could bring.

“Relationships—fuck, even  life itself—it’s  messy. But love, real love, it means seein’ each other, really seein’ each other, even when it’s hard. Even when the person you love is carryin’ more than you can see.” And sometimes,  lovin’ someone means lettin’ them in, lettin’ ‘em carry their part of the weight, just like you’ve been doin’ for them.

The words hit Emily like a slow, steady tide, washing over her and loosening the tight knots in her chest. Her eyes welled with tears, and before she could stop them, they spilled over, the weight of everything she’d been carrying finally breaking free. She had been so consumed with the fear of losing Molly, so weighed down by guilt for not being able to protect her from whatever pain she was hiding, that she had almost lost herself in the process. She’d become so fixated on fixing things, on being the one to save Molly, that she hadn’t noticed how much she was hurting too.

She had always held herself to an impossible standard, believing that to deserve love, she had to be perfect. But maybe love wasn’t about perfection. Maybe it was about the raw, messy, imperfect journey they were on together.

For the first time in a long while, Emily let herself feel vulnerable. She allowed the tears to fall without trying to hold them back, without the pressure of being the strong one. She wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t a savior. And maybe, just maybe, that was okay. Molly didn’t need a perfect protector—she needed Emily, in all her flawed, imperfectness. And maybe, for once, Emily could let herself be okay with that.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Emily felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this wasn’t the end for her and Molly. Maybe they could find a way back to each other, even if the road was long and filled with shadows.

“Thanks, Rosie,” Emily whispered, her voice thick with emotion

Rosie gave her a small, encouraging smile. “Anytime, sugar. Anytime.”

Chapter 37: Tough Love and Tougher Words

Summary:

Emily returns to the hotel, seeking to make things right with Molly after everything went wrong

She also gets chewed out by Husk and Cherri

Rosie walked Emily back to the entrance of Cannibal Town, the once-rowdy crowds parting to let them pass. As the mayor of the town, Rosie commanded respect, and the usual snarls and growls that greeted outsiders were subdued as they neared the gate. Emily glanced around, still not fully accustomed to how quickly the dynamic could shift in this strange world. The cannibal residents, who moments before might have eyed her like prey, now gave her respectful, even curious, glances. It was an unsettling kind of respect, but respect nonetheless.

When they reached the gate, Rosie paused and turned to face Emily. Her sharp features softened just a little, a rare moment of warmth from the usually tough and mischievous cannibess. Emily, still caught in the mix of emotions, opened her mouth to speak but struggled for the right words.

“Rosie, I—I don’t know how to thank you,” Emily finally managed, her voice tinged with both gratitude and the weight of the turmoil she had caused.

Rosie’s lips curled into a knowing smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes but still held a certain kindness that took Emily by surprise. “Well, hon,” she chuckled, her drawl thick with mischief,

“you can start by going back and makin’ up with your girl. How’s that sound?”

Emily flushed, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. She nodded sheepishly, unsure of what to say. Her emotions were still raw, and the last thing she wanted was to mess things up even more. But Rosie’s casual, confident demeanor gave her a sense of purpose.

Before Emily could respond, Rosie leaned in, and in a quick, surprising motion, pressed a kiss to her cheek. Emily froze, her heart leaping in her chest at the unexpected contact.

Rosie pulled back with a smirk, her gaze unwavering yet somehow softer than Emily had expected. There was no mistaking the teasing edge to her voice, but there was also something gentler underneath.

“There now,” she said, her voice low and playful.

“Don’t go makin’ it weird on me. Just a little good luck kiss, since you look like you’re gonna need it.”

Emily blinked, her face flushing even more as she stumbled over her words.

“Th-thank you, Rosie. For... well, for everything,” she stammered, suddenly feeling shy under Rosie’s sharp, knowing gaze.

Rosie’s smirk faded slightly, and her tone shifted to something more serious.

“Don’t mention it, hon,” she said, her voice almost gruff but still carrying that warmth.

“But remember, love isn’t about who you think you should be. It’s about bein’ there for her, messy and stubborn as you are. So don’t go tryin’ to be perfect. Just be there, got it?”

Emily swallowed hard, feeling a weight settle in her chest. She nodded, her expression shifting from nervous to resolute.

“Got it. I’ll… I’ll do my best.”

Rosie gave her shoulder a firm squeeze, her grip reassuring, before she straightened up and stepped back.

“Good. Now get goin’ before I change my mind and let the crowd have ya,” she teased, though her eyes were warm with a hint of affection.

With one last look of gratitude, Emily turned, stepping through the gate with newfound determination in her stride. Rosie’s words echoed in her mind as she made her way toward the hotel. She was scared, more than she wanted to admit, but if there was any chance of making things right with Molly, she had to try.

Emily’s heart pounded in her chest as she approached the hotel. She took a deep breath to steady herself before pushing open the door.

As soon as she entered, the chatter inside fell silent, and all eyes turned to her. Before she could even take another step,  she was nearly barreled over by a hug from Charlie

“Omigosh, Emily! You’re back! You’re okay! I mean, I knew you were okay because of my dad but—” Charlie’s words spilled out in a rush.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” Emily said, a soft smile on her face, though the weight of what had happened still pressed heavily on her. “I… I know we need to catch up but… is Molly here?

Charlie hesitated for a moment, glancing around uncomfortably. She looked like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to phrase it. Finally, she spoke, but her voice faltered.

“Uh—”

“Yeah,” a gruff voice interrupted. Husk stood behind the bar, cleaning a glass, but his cold eyes were fixed on Emily. “She’s here. She’s in Angel’s room. Recovering from the shit you started.”

Emily winced at the words. They stung more than she expected.

“Now Husk—” Charlie began to chastise.

“Charlie, don’t,” Emily interjected, cutting her off. She wasn’t looking for sympathy. She knew she had messed up. The guilt gnawed at her, heavy and suffocating.

“He’s right. i… I um. I-“ she searched for the right word

“I f-fucked up.” Charlie blinked surprised at her language while Husk let out a deep chuckle. Emily cleared her throat, feeling more awkward than ever.

“Do you think she’ll see me?” Emily asked, turning to Husk, who only shrugged.

“I ain’t no mind reader. But don’t cause that girl any more grief, you hear? The kid’s been through enough shit,” Husk said, his tone low and serious.

Emily nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Yeah… got it.”

She made her way upstairs, her steps hesitant, her nerves rising again as she approached Angel’s door. She stood there for a long moment, her hand hovering over the door, unsure of whether she was ready for what was inside. Finally, she knocked, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent hallway.

She was surprised when it was not Angel who answered

“Angie? Bitch if that’s you just come into ya own fucking room!” Cherri’s voice echoed. Emily felt a jolt of jealousy stab at her chest, but she quickly pushed it down. Cherri was a friend, after all. She reminded herself firmly.

“It’s, um... it’s not Angel,” she said to the closed door, her voice small.

There was a brief silence before the sound of shuffling and muttered curses came from inside. The door opened just enough for Cherri to glare at her with one sharp, narrowed eye.

“The fuck you want?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Emily took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “Can I talk to Molly?”

“She’s sleepin’,” Cherri replied, her tone flat.

Emily shifted on her feet, unsure what to do next. “Can… can we talk then?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Cherri narrowed her eye at her, the suspicion evident in her gaze. “Why?”

Emily hesitated, trying to put into words what she couldn’t even fully understand herself. “Husk said Molly was recovering. Is she… is she okay?” Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the concern clear in her tone.

Cherri sighed heavily. “One second, kay?” She slammed the door shut, leaving Emily standing alone in the hallway. For a few long moments, Emily could hear rustling inside, followed by the faint sound of blankets shifting. When the door finally opened again, Cherri stepped out into the hall, arms crossed, her stance casual but her expression guarded.

Emily shifted, standing opposite her, trying to find the right words.

“So…” she began, unsure how to approach this conversation.

“So to cut it short,” Cherri started, her voice flat and dismissive. “No, she’s not okay. Molly went out, got herself shitfaced after whatever fight you two had.” Emily’s stomach twisted with guilt.

“Shitfaced? That means…?” Emily began to ask, but Cherri groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Drunk. Blackout drunk. And on top of that, some asshole spiked her drink,” Cherri finished, her words blunt, and Emily’s heart sank.

“She was drugged?” Emily whispered, horrified by the thought.

“Uh huh,” Cherri confirmed. “Luckily, Husk found her before any pervs could take her off to fuck knows where, but no—she ain’t ‘okay’. She’s been in and out of a fucking drug trip for almost a full day now.”

Emily’s throat tightened. “Is Angel here?” she asked, desperate for any form of reassurance.

Cherri huffed. “No. He’s at work. That’s why I’m here. Somebody had to keep Spidey from choking on her own puke.” Emily cringed at the thought, the image vividly haunting her.

“I… thank you, Cherri,” Emily said quietly, her voice thick with gratitude. Cherri blinked in surprise, her usual tough exterior faltering for a moment before she shrugged it off.

“Yeah, whatever. It’s what anyone would do,” she muttered, but Emily could see the faintest hint of something softer in her expression.

“That’s not true,” Emily replied, shaking her head. “I’ve been here long enough to know that. And…” she smiled, though it was small, “I think I’m starting to see why Pentious likes you.”

Cherri’s cheeks turned a shade darker, her typical bravado cracking slightly. “What?” she asked, her tone defensive, though she was clearly flustered.

“He always said that kissing you was his one regret,” Emily said lightly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Cherri’s face fell immediately

“Wait! No shit! Ugh. I’m not good at words. I mean- that kissing you, only before he died was his one regret.” She corrected quickly. Cherri’s voice caught in her throat.

“He said that?” She asked quietly. Emily nodded

“Yeah… I mean, he called you Miss Bomb, but yeah. He did.” Emily’s gaze softened, but she didn’t look away. “I know you’re not an official guest here, Cherri, but… if you ever want to be redeemed… he’s waiting for you.”

Cherri was silent for a moment, staring at Emily as if she couldn’t quite believe what she had just heard. “Yeah, well…” she started, clearly trying to shake it off, “I ain’t got time for that right now.”

Before Emily could respond, the door behind them creaked open. Molly stood in the doorway, a blanket draped around her shoulders. Her eyes were heavy, sluggish, but they locked on Emily immediately.

“Em?” she croaked, her voice hoarse.

The sight of her—alive and standing—sent a rush of relief through Emily, but it was also alarming. Molly looked so fragile, so exhausted.

“Hi,” Emily whispered.

Molly looked her up and down, her expression distant. “You real?” she asked, her voice barely above a murmur.

Emily nodded frantically. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m real. And Molly, I’m so, so sorry—I—” 

The spider gripped the doorframe tightly to steady herself, her legs shaky. “Can we talk in here, please? I, uh... I ain’t good at standing right now.” 

Emily nodded, her hand outstretched towards Molly, but the other girl ignored it. 

Cherri, standing off to the side, caught Emily’s eye. “I’m gonna be out here,” she warned, her tone firm. “If I hear any screamin’ or any bullshit, I’m breakin’ in, you hear?” 

Both Emily and Molly nodded in silent agreement.

Notes:

"MK how much angst can you write before they finally make up?" DON'T TEST ME 👹 (in all seriousness tho next chapter is planned "fix it" chapter lol)

 

also...how we feel about Emily swearing? not as much as Molly obviously but thoughts?

Chapter 38: 'Falling' Together

Summary:

Emily and Molly finally face the weight of their unresolved emotions, navigating the fragile space between guilt, fear, and love

Notes:

I stopped torturing them! it only took *looks at document* 16 chapters since the original "acting like a sinner" comment was made 😅

As the door clicked shut behind them, Emily stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, her gaze drifting over the disheveled space. The bed was a mess, the sheets tangled in a way that made it clear Molly hadn’t been resting peacefully. The air smelled faintly of sickness and stale sweat, and Emily’s stomach churned with guilt. She had caused this. If only she’d kept her cool, hadn’t let things spiral out of control…

Molly lowered herself onto the bed with a soft grunt, clutching the blanket tighter around her shoulders as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Her eyes, dull and heavy, fixed on Emily, but there was no anger in them—only a kind of exhausted indifference.

Emily took a tentative step forward, then another, until she stood at the edge of the bed. She didn’t know what to say or how to fix what she had broken. The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable, before Emily finally spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Molly, I…” She swallowed hard, the words catching in her throat.

“I’ve never been this sorry for anything in my life. I fucked up so bad. And I… I don’t know how to make it right.”

Molly swallowed hard, her throat dry. She nodded stiffly, not trusting herself to speak. The anger she’d felt earlier had faded, replaced by a deep sadness—a longing for something she wasn’t sure she could fix. She gestured to the bed beside her, though she remained curled in on herself.

Emily sat down slowly, her guilt weighing heavily on her movements. She sat a few feet away, still keeping her distance, as if respecting an invisible boundary. For a moment, neither of them said anything. The distant hum of the hotel, the crackling of the air conditioning, and the faint rustle of Molly’s movements filled the silence. It was as if the world outside the room had stopped, and all that mattered now was the fragile space between them.

"I… I owe you an apology," Emily said at last, her voice barely above a whisper, as though the words themselves were too heavy to speak. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, knuckles pale from the force with which she gripped them. She avoided Molly’s gaze at first, but the weight of the silence seemed to pull her eyes to Molly’s.

“For everything. For the things I said… for accusing you of becoming a sinner. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Molly’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. She wanted to snap back, to shout at Emily for everything that had gone wrong, for all the pain and frustration that had built up over the last few weeks. But somewhere, deep inside, something shifted—a recognition of the sincerity in Emily’s voice, the trembling honesty in her words. Emily wasn’t just apologizing because it was the right thing to do; she was apologizing because she truly felt she had failed Molly. And in that moment, Molly realized she was so tired of holding onto all that anger. Tired of letting it fester.

"I let my fear cloud my judgment," Emily continued, her voice trembling slightly, as if even admitting her mistake was painful. “I was scared that I was losing you. I thought if I could just get you to see things the way I did, maybe… maybe we could go back to the way things were. But I hurt you in the process, Molly. I pushed you away when I should’ve been there for you, and for that, I’m so sorry.”

Molly’s throat tightened, and she fought back the rising lump of emotion that threatened to choke her. She wasn’t sure what to say—what to feel. Emily had always been the one who wanted to fix everything, to find the answers. But this time, Molly wasn’t sure she had any answers. Not for herself, not for them.

“I know you’re carrying a lot,” Emily said, her voice thick with emotion. “And I know there are parts of yourself you’re not ready to share yet. I just… I got scared, Molly. Scared that you didn’t trust me enough to let me in. But that’s not fair to you. You’ve always been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it, and I haven’t done a good job of showing you how much that means to me.”

Molly swallowed hard before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I thought when you was talkin’ ‘bout me goin’ to Heaven… that you was tryin’ to get rid of me.” The words came out like a confession, the raw hurt of them settling in the air between them.

Emily’s eyes widened, her expression a mixture of guilt and understanding.

“Oh God, Molly no… I was trying to protect you. Just like you were trying to protect me, but I should have asked you what you wanted instead of taking things into my own hands.”

Emily swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had hurt Molly in ways she hadn’t meant to, and she needed her to understand that.

“I'm so so sorry. For not trusting you. For thinking I knew what was best for you, when I should have just listened. I’d been so focused on protecting you, on trying to fix things, that I didn’t stop to think that maybe… maybe you didn’t need fixing. You’ve been through so much, and I just… I thought I could help, but I was blind. I thought you were hiding things from me because I wasn’t enough, but really, I just couldn’t see that you were protecting me. And I didn’t give you the space to do that.” Emily took a shaky breath, the weight of her guilt pressing down on her. “I’m sorry, Molly. I’m so sorry.”

Molly’s gaze softened for a brief moment, but she didn’t respond right away. Emily’s heart raced, the silence between them stretching out painfully. She could feel the distance between them, thick and unspoken, but she refused to back down.

“I should’ve been there for you more,” Emily continued, her voice quieter now, full of sincerity.

“Instead of pushing, instead of questioning everything you did, I should’ve just been here. I know you’ve been carrying a lot, and I shouldn’t have added to that. I love you, Molly. I always have. And I promise I’ll do better. I’ll listen. I’ll be here, without trying to fix everything, just… being with you.”

Molly nodded, the words she’d been holding back for so long now spilling out.

“I was angry… at you, at myself, at everythin’. I didn’t know how to handle any of it. I didn’t know how to handle feeling like I was never going to be good enough. Fuck, I still feel I didn’t fit in Heaven, and I don’t quite fit in Hell.”

Molly looked up and hesitated, her eyes searching Emily’s face.

“And Em… you don’t have to apologize for wanting to understand me. I just… I don’t know how to explain it. There’s things I don’t even know how to say to myself, let alone to you.”

Emily nodded, her eyes glistening.

“I know. And I’m not asking you to say anything you’re not ready to. I just want you to know that I’m here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, whenever you need me, I’m here.”

Molly’s gaze dropped to her hands, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the nightgown.

“It’s not that I don’t trust ya, Emily. It’s that I’m scared. Scared of what you’ll think of me if you knew… everythin’.”

Emily felt her heart ache at the vulnerability in Molly’s voice. She reached out, gently taking Molly’s hands in her own.

“Nothing you could say would ever make me think less of you, Molly. You’ve been through so much, and the fact that you’re still here, still fighting… that’s what I see when I look at you. Someone strong, and brave, and worth loving.”

Molly’s eyes filled with tears, and she let out a shaky laugh.

“You’re too good for me, ya know that?”

Emily smiled softly, her thumb brushing over Molly’s knuckles.

“Not true. We’re good for each other. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? No matter what.”

Molly nodded, her tears spilling over as she leaned forward, resting her forehead against Emily’s.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For bein’ patient. For… for seein’ me.”

Emily’s own tears slipped down her cheeks as she held Molly’s hands tighter. “Always.”

Molly leaned back, her face flushed.

"I… I’m sorry, Emily." She paused, her voice breaking slightly. "I pushed you away. I didn’t trust ya, or myself, or us. I don’t really know how to let anyone in without thinking they’d leave.”

Emily gently brushed her thumb against Molly’s hand, her touch soft and reassuring.

“I’m I’m not going anywhere," she whispered. "Not now, not ever. We’ll figure this out together. I changed my mind. I don’t want you to go back to Heaven if it means I lose you. We’ve always been in this together. No matter what."

Molly’s breath caught, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Her heart swelled in her chest, and amidst the confusion, there was something pure—something honest—that made her want to believe, to hope, just this once.

“I’ve missed you,” Molly said, her voice cracking. She finally let herself speak the truth she had kept buried for so long. "I’ve missed you so much."

Emily’s voice thick with emotion, replied, “I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry for leaving you alone. I should’ve stayed. We should’ve stayed together. I don’t ever want to do that again.”

Molly nodded, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips despite the tears still streaming down her face.

Emily began to lean in, but Molly gently placed her hands on her chest, stopping her. Emily froze immediately.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have tried too-“ She began to babble. Molly pressed her finger to Emily’s lips to silence her

“Em. Breathe. I just— I don’t think kissing me would be too enjoyable right now,” Molly admitted sheepishly, one of her upper hands rubbing the back of her neck. Emily blushed in realization.

“Oh.” Their eyes met, and both girls started to laugh.

“I, um… I can help you get cleaned up if you want?” Emily asked, surprised by her own boldness.

Molly blinked slowly, processing what the seraphim had said. “I—yeah stellina … that would be nice,” she admitted with a smile.

 

Notes:

Oh btw. if anyone wants to cry... I found SpiderPhim's song

I See You · Priscilla Ahn

Chapter 39: Parades and Promises

Summary:

I realized it was the 100th Macys Thanksgiving parade. So Tony and Molly could have seen parade. So heres a wholesome flashback chapter lol.

Happy Belated Turkey day my fellow Americans. For my non american readers, happy start of December!

— Flashback. 1924 —— (Nico: 16, Anthony & Molly: 12)

The city felt alive that morning, buzzing with a kind of energy Anthony and Molly didn’t usually feel on the cold streets of Brooklyn. It was Nico who’d woken them up early, shaking them from sleep with an urgency usually reserved for dodging their father’s belt or running from the neighborhood bullies.

“Get dressed. We’re goin’ to the parade,” he’d announced, his grin wide enough to warm the boys tiny room.

Anthony rubbed his eyes, grumbling, “What parade?”

Molly poked her head in, already dressed and bouncing on her heels . “The Macy’s parade! The new one! Right Nico?”

Nico smirked, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “Yeah, the Macy’s parade. C’mon, it’s somethin’ special, and you don’t wanna miss it.”

---

By the time they made it to Manhattan, the streets were packed. Nico kept a firm grip on Anthony’s and Molly’s hands, weaving through the crowds with practiced ease. The twins craned their necks, their eyes wide as they took in the towering buildings and bustling vendors. The smell of roasted chestnuts and pretzels wafted through the crisp November air, mixing with the laughter and chatter of families who had come to see the spectacle.

“You ever seen so many people in one place?” Anthony asked, his voice tinged with awe.

“Nope,” Molly replied, clutching her brother’s hand tighter. “Do you think we’ll see Babbo Natale? They say he’s gonna be here at the end!”

Nico chuckled. “Relax, Moll. You’ll see him. And he’s gonna be ridin’ in style, too.”

---

The parade itself was like nothing they’d ever seen. Horses pulled floats covered in bright paper flowers, each more elaborate than the last. Performers in colorful costumes danced and twirled, their movements synchronized to the rhythm of a marching band that blared loud and proud. Anthony couldn’t take his eyes off the brass section, the shining instruments catching the light like treasures.

“Think you could play one of those, Tony?” Nico teased, nudging his little brother.

“Sure, if I wanted to blow spit everywhere,” Anthony shot back, his smirk betraying his delight.

Molly giggled, pointing excitedly at a group of clowns on stilts. “Look at how tall they are! How do they not fall over?”

“Magic,” Nico said with a wink, though he knew it was probably practice. Still, he let the wonder hang in the air for Molly’s sake.

---

When the zoo animals paraded through—lions, elephants, even a camel—the twins nearly lost their minds. Molly squealed with delight, tugging at Nico’s arm. “Did you see the lion? Did you see it? It looked right at me!”

Anthony rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin. “It wasn’t lookin’ at you, Moll. It was probably hungry.”

“Shut up, Tony,” she shot back, sticking out her tongue.

Nico laughed, ruffling Molly’s hair. “Alright, settle down, you two. Santa- Babbo Natale's comin’ up soon.”

---

The moment Santa appeared, waving from a grand sleigh atop a float covered in glittering snow, the crowd erupted into cheers. Molly gasped, her eyes shining as she clutched Anthony’s sleeve. “He’s real,” she whispered, her voice filled with wonder.

Anthony didn’t have the heart to tease her this time. “Yeah,” he said softly. “He’s real.”

Nico, standing behind them, watched the twins with a rare softness in his expression. He knew their lives weren’t easy, and moments like this—where they could just be kids—were few and far between.

As the parade came to an end, Nico led them back through the throngs of people, his hands never leaving theirs.

“You two have fun?” he asked once they were safely on the subway home.

“The best!” Molly said, leaning her head against his arm.

“Yeah, it was alright,” Anthony said, though the small smile on his face betrayed him.

Nico smirked. “Good. ’Cause you ain’t tellin’ Pops where we were, got it?”

“Got it,” they said in unison.

As the subway rumbled beneath the city, the three of them sat close, their laughter cutting through the clatter of wheels on tracks. For a little while, at least, they could forget about the shadows waiting for them back home.

Notes:

Main plot will continue but I wanted to give yall a holiday gift haha

Chapter 40: Healing Waters

Summary:

The queer platonic lesbians get fluff

 

and a surprise at the end

 

Emily hesitated at Molly's bathroom door, the towel draped over one arm, a fresh set of clothes clutched tightly to her chest. The bathroom was still and silent, the tub empty beneath the faint glow of the overhead light. She shifted her weight nervously, sneaking quick glances at Molly, who was already perched on the edge of the sunken tub, her four bare feet resting on the cool tiles. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just leave these here?” Emily asked softly, her voice tentative, almost pleading. 

Molly rolled her eyes, the teasing grin on her lips doing little to hide the weariness in her expression. Her long white-and-pink hair was greasy and messy, still bearing faint waves from the braids it had been freed from, and her skin was even paler beneath the dim bathroom light. 

“Em,” Molly said with a chuckle, tilting her head. “We’ve been together for thirty years. You ain’t gotta act like we’re strangers.” 

Emily’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, her gaze darting away. “That doesn’t mean… I mean, it’s different,” she stammered, placing the clothes and towel on the counter like they might burn her. 

Molly raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with her chin in her hands. “Different how? You afraid you’ll faint if you see me naked?” 

“Molly!” Emily squeaked, her blush spreading to her ears. 

Molly’s laugh was light, almost musical, a rare break in the tension that had hung over them for weeks. She peeled off her nightgown, exposing the harsh, jagged scars that marred her back—golden reminders of her past, carved deep where her wings had once been. Her movements slowed, the teasing expression on her face softening when she saw Emily instinctively avert her gaze again, her hands trembling as she busied herself folding and unfolding the towels. 

“Hey,” Molly said gently, her voice free of its usual sharpness. “It’s just me. I ain’t some porcelain doll that’s gonna break if you look too hard.” 

Emily hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. Her breath caught as her eyes landed on Molly’s scars, the golden lines stark against her pale skin. “I know you’re not,” she said quietly, stepping closer. Her fingers hovered just above the ridged flesh, long enough to give Molly a chance to pull away, before finally brushing against it, feather-light. 

“Does it still hurt?” Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Molly’s teasing demeanor faded, her gaze dropping to her lap. “Sometimes,” she admitted, her voice almost a whisper. “The pain ain’t real, just my head goin’ crazy again. Vaggie calls it phantom pain. Like they’re still there, but not quite.” 

Emily nodded, her hand lingering for a moment longer before she pulled back. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. 

Molly’s eyes lifted, catching Emily’s. “Hey, I told ya before—I made my decision. I don’t regret it. So stop feelin’ sorry for me, alright? Just... be here.” 

Emily swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, turning to the bath. She turned the faucet, the sound of the water filling the tub breaking the quiet. As the water began to pour into the tub, she adjusted the temperature, checking it carefully before giving a soft sigh of relief. “Let me help,” she said, her tone steadying. “If you’ll let me.” 

Molly’s lips curved into a faint smile as she stepped into the warm water. “Don’t think I could stop ya if I tried.” 

Emily worked in silence, pouring soap onto a washcloth and gently running it over Molly’s shoulders. She was methodical, her hands moving with care as if trying to wash away more than just the dirt and sweat. When her gaze fell on the dark bruise blooming across Molly’s hip, she froze. 

“This is from when you fell… after I pushed you,” Emily said, her voice trembling. 

Molly opened her eyes, glancing at the bruise before meeting Emily’s stricken gaze. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Guess I hit the floor harder than I thought.” 

Emily’s hands shook as she traced the edges of the bruise, tears welling in her eyes. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” she whispered. “I was so caught up in everything, I didn’t think—” 

“Emily,” Molly interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. She reached out, her wet hand grasping Emily’s trembling one. “I’m fine. I’ve been through worse.” 

Emily shook her head, her tears spilling over. “That doesn’t make it okay. I hate that I hurt you. I don’t… I don’t want to be like—” 

“You’re not like him.” 

The words were quiet but resolute. Molly’s hand moved to Emily’s chin, gently turning her face so their eyes met. “You’re not like him,” Molly repeated, her voice soft but unyielding. 

Emily’s lip trembled, her tears flowing freely now. “But I—” 

“You made a mistake,” Molly said firmly. “And you’ve been beatin’ yourself up over it ever since. Honestly, I think that’s punishment enough.” 

Emily let out a weak laugh, though it was tinged with guilt. “I don’t deserve to just… let it go.” 

Molly’s expression softened as she pulled Emily’s hand to her chest, letting it rest above her heart. “Then don’t. Learn from it. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. But stop actin’ like I’m so fragile you can’t even look at me Em, You’re not…you’re not Lorenzo. You’re you. And I chose you.”

Emily nodded, her voice breaking as she whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

Molly smiled faintly, her thumb brushing away a stray tear from Emily’s cheek. “I know. And you’re forgiven. Now, are you gonna finish washin’ my hair, or do I gotta start chargin’ ya for the show?” 

Emily laughed despite herself, grabbing the shampoo with shaking hands. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, though the tension in her voice had eased. 

As she gently worked the soap into Molly’s hair, the steam curled around them, cocooning them in warmth. And for the first time in weeks, the distance between them began to close, replaced by something softer. Something healing.

Emily and Molly were momentarily lost in the calm of the moment, the soft lapping of the water and the distant hum of the hotel  filling the silence. Emily’s hands were steady now as she worked through Molly’s hair, her breath no longer tight in her chest.

Suddenly, the bathroom door flew open with a dramatic bang, and in burst Niffty, her eyes wide with excitement. She skidded to a halt, a huge grin plastered across her face.

"Molly! Mooooolly!" Niffty practically sang, bouncing on her feet as she approached the tub. “Ooooh you’re nakeeeddd!” she said bursting into giggles

“Niffty?” Emily pressed “is there something you need to tell Molly?” Niffty looked up and nodded frantically as she remembered her quest

“The bad boy spider is here!” She stage whispered

Molly’s brow furrowed as she blinked up at Niffty. "A bad boy spider?" she repeated, incredulous.

Niffty nodded, practically vibrating with the news. “Yep! That’s what Husk said! He told me to tell you to HIDE!”

Molly's expression hardened instantly, her eyes narrowing. “Hide?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. "From who?"

"The bad boy spider!" Niffty repeated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, making the three girls freeze. They could hear various hotel residents attempting to stop the intruder who. A voice, tense with frustration and desperation, through the carried through the door.

“Molly, it’s me. Get the fuck offa me. Just come out! I’m not here to fight, sis I promise. Just... please stop hiding.”

Notes:

Oh shit- plot is progressing- hehehehehehehe

Chapter 41: From Baby Dolls to Blue Bottles

Summary:

A deeper glimpse into some of Nico/Arackniss’s past memories

Notes:

CW: very vaguely Implied suicide/overdosing in second flashback.

Flashback: April 1, 1912

Four-year-old Nico peeked out from behind the heavy curtain that separated the small rooms of their Brooklyn apartment. His heart raced at the sound of his father’s angry voice booming through the thin walls.

“Donna stupida! Ti ho detto che volevo un altro maschio!”
[“Stupid woman! I told you I wanted another boy!”]

Enrico Ragno’s frustration filled the room, spilling over as he stormed out of their bedroom. The midwife’s assistant followed, her hands gesturing as she tried to calm him.

Nico’s breath hitched. He quickly ducked back behind the curtain, pressing his back against the wall. His tiny fingers clutched the fabric as he peeked out once more. He didn’t understand why his father was so angry, but it scared him. After a moment, the room quieted again, and his curiosity got the better of him.

Creeping forward, he peeked around the corner. His mamma, Maria, lay pale and exhausted on the bed, her dark hair plastered to her forehead. She looked up at him immediately, her tired face softening into a smile. A bundle of blankets rested in her arms, wrapped around something so small it made Nico blink in surprise.

“Vieni qui, Nico,” Maria said gently. Her voice was warm despite her weariness. “Va tutto bene. Vuoi conoscere la tua sorellina?”
[“Come in, Nico. It’s okay. Do you want to meet your baby sister?”]

His eyes widened. Sister? He hadn’t expected that.

Nico nodded shyly and tiptoed closer to her bedside. As he leaned in, a tiny cry burst from the bundle, startling him so much that he jumped back. The midwife chuckled as Maria laughed softly, wincing slightly from the effort.

“Non volevo spaventarla!” Nico said, his face flushing red.
[“I didn’t mean to scare her!”]

Maria reached over and ruffled his dark curls. “Va bene, caro mio. Sta solo imparando a conoscere il mondo. Vuoi tenerla in braccio?”
[“It’s okay, my dear. She’s just getting used to the world. Do you want to hold her?”]

Nico hesitated, his gaze darting to the midwife.

“Maria, sei sicura che sia una buona idea? La neonata è molto fragile—”
[“Maria, are you sure that’s wise? The infant is quite fragile—”]

“Nico sarà attento con lei,” Maria said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
[“Nico will be careful with her.”]

She looked at Nico with quiet encouragement, and he nodded, though his hands trembled.

“Vieni, siediti qui,” the midwife instructed, guiding him to the worn armchair by the bedside. “Facciamolo come si deve. Siediti dritto.”
[“Come, sit here. We’ll do this properly. Sit up straight.”]

He perched on the edge of the seat, barely breathing as the midwife gently placed the tiny bundle into his arms.

“Sostieni la testa. Bravo ragazzo,” she murmured, adjusting his grip until the baby rested safely against his chest.
[“Cradle her head. That’s it—good lad.”]

Maria smiled at him, pride glinting in her tired eyes. “Guarda te, Nico. Sei già un bravo fratello maggiore.”
[“Look at you, Nico. Such a good big brother already.”]

Nico gazed down at the baby in wonder. Her face was tiny and scrunched, her skin pink and soft like the inside of a seashell. She wriggled slightly, her tiny hands peeking out from the blanket.

“Come si chiama?” he asked, his voice hushed.
[“What’s her name?”]

Maria sighed. “Non lo so ancora, caro. Avevamo solo un nome da maschio in mente. Vuoi aiutarmi a sceglierne uno?”
[“I don’t know yet, my dear. We only had a boy’s name planned. Do you want to help me pick one?”]

He blinked at her, then looked back at the baby. His brows furrowed in concentration as he studied her. She reminded him of the baby dolls he’d seen in toy shops. He’d always thought they were pretty, but his father would never allow it.

“Dolly,” he said after a moment.

Maria hummed thoughtfully. “Dolly… Bambola…” She tilted her head, considering. “Che ne dici di Molly invece? Possiamo comunque chiamarla bambolina, se vuoi.”
[“Dolly… Dolly… What do you think about Molly instead? We can still call her little doll, if you like.”]

“Molly,” Nico repeated, testing the name. He nodded enthusiastically, causing the baby to stir and let out another wail. This time, instead of panicking, he tried to shush her, gently rocking her back and forth as he had seen his mamma do. To his amazement, it worked, and she quieted again.

Maria watched him with a soft smile, but before she could say anything, she let out a sharp cry of pain. Nico’s head shot up, his eyes wide with alarm.

“Mamma?” he whispered.

The midwife sprang into action, quickly taking a look. She inhaled sharply in surprise before she called out instructions “Signora Ragno, sta avendo dei gemelli! Devi spingere di nuovo, va bene?”
[“Mrs. Ragno, you’re having twins! I need you to push again, all right?”]

Nico’s mouth fell open in shock. The midwife’s assistant hurried over, crouching down beside him.

“Adesso, Nico, devi tornare nella tua stanza,” she said gently, reaching for the baby. “Lascia che prenda la piccola.”
[“Here now, Nico, you need to go back to your room. Let me take the little one.”]

Nico shook his head fiercely, clutching the blanket protectively. “È mia sorella! Non puoi portarla via!”
[“She’s my sister! You can’t take her!”]

The assistant looked taken aback, but before she could insist, Maria’s voice rang out, firm despite her pain.

“Lascialo tenere Molly,” she said through gritted teeth.
[“Let him take Molly.”]

The assistant hesitated, then nodded, stepping back before leading the little boy and his sister out of their parents bedroom.

Nico held Molly close, his small arms tightening around her. “Ciao, Molly,” he whispered, his voice trembling but full of determination. “Sono il tuo fratello maggiore. Io sono Nico.”
[“Hi, Molly. I’m your big brother. I’m Nico.”]

---

Flashback: December 21, 1937

The phone call had come late in the afternoon, long after Nico had resigned himself to an uneasy quiet. Lorenzo’s voice on the other end was frantic, his words tumbling over each other in a disjointed mess. Nico barely managed to piece together the story—Molly was dead, her body found on the balcony, and Lorenzo didn’t know what to do.

Nico’s heart sank, but his voice remained steady. "I’ll be there," he’d said before hanging up.

Now, as he stood on the same balcony, the cold December air biting at his face, Nico felt the weight of the moment settle over him like the snow blanketing the city. His thoughts were consumed by the image of Molly—her body pale and lifeless, her hair fanned out like a broken halo. The sight of her still form, pale as snow, was burned into his memory, her hands curled loosely in her lap, her wedding ring conspicuously absent.

He’d spotted it lying near her feet, glinting faintly in the faint light of dusk. He’d slipped it into his pocket without a word, his jaw tightening. The absence of that small token spoke volumes, a quiet rebellion against the life she had been forced to endure.

The snow was falling in thick, heavy flakes, muffling the usual sounds of the city. It blanketed the streets and rooftops, turning Brooklyn into a quiet, desolate expanse. Nico stood on the balcony, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his overcoat as he stared at the spot where his sister had been found.

Behind him, the muffled sound of Lorenzo's voice broke through his trance. Nico turned and walked back into the apartment, his expression hardening. Inside, Lorenzo was pacing, his movements erratic, his voice shaking as he muttered to himself. Nico crossed the threshold, stepping into the suffocating warmth of the room. His hand brushed against the inside of his coat pocket, feeling the cool glass of the bottle he’d found tucked in Molly’s sleeve.

He hadn’t needed to read the label to know what it was—laudanum. The sight of it had made his stomach churn. She’d hidden it well, hidden everything well. They hadn’t seen it, hadn’t realized how deep her pain ran until it was too late.

“I mean, shit, what am I supposed to tell the cops, Nic? That she died of—”

“Hypothermia,” Nico said evenly, cutting him off mid-sentence. He didn’t bother looking at the disgrace of a man his sister had been forced to marry.

Lorenzo froze, his mouth hanging open. “The fuck? C’mon, Nico, we both know she—”

“Died of hypothermia,” Nico repeated, his voice cold and unyielding. He rose from his seat with deliberate calm, his every movement loaded with restrained fury. Lorenzo stared at him, confusion and dread warring on his face.

“I—”

Nico slammed the laudanum bottle onto the table with a force that silenced Lorenzo instantly. In one swift motion, he pulled out his derringer, the polished metal glinting in the dim light. He closed the distance between them in three steps until he was standing chin to chin with the older man.

“Listen to me, you coward,” Nico growled, his voice low and venomous. “If you know what’s good for ya, you’ll tell anyone who asks that my sister died of hypothermia. Do you understand me?”

Lorenzo’s face drained of color as he nodded frantically, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The sight of Nico’s unwavering glare and the weight of the gun mere inches from his chest robbed him of any attempt at defiance. Satisfied, Nico pocketed the pistol and turned away from Lorenzo, the man who had stolen Molly’s life long before she’d taken it into her own hands. He picked up the blue glass bottle, rolling it between his fingers one last time, before slipping it back into his coat.

“You’d better pray,” he said without looking back, “that no one ever learns the truth.”

Lorenzo nodded again, too frightened to speak. Nico’s footsteps echoed hollowly as he left the room. Neither brother said a word as Nico descended the narrow staircase and stepped out into the cold December night.

For Molly, Nico told himself as he tipped his hat low against the falling snow. For Ma.

Too quickly, Nico found himself back at the family house. The tension in the air was palpable, every breath weighed down by the gravity of unspoken questions. The usual noise of the household was absent, replaced by a heavy, stifling silence.

He didn’t hesitate as he stepped through the door to his father’s office, the ornate wood creaking slightly under his firm push. He didn’t bother with pleasantries; there was no time or space for them now. Enrico’s eyes, dark and calculating, snapped up from the paper he’d been reading, locking onto his eldest son.

Before Enrico could speak, Nico broke the silence with the bluntness of a hammer.

“Molly’s dead,” he said, his voice cold and stripped of any emotion. The words landed in the room like stones, heavy and unyielding.

Enrico’s expression barely shifted. His narrowed eyes flickered with the faintest glint of acknowledgment, but his lips remained a thin, unmoving line. The man who had never once shown tenderness toward his daughter now sat unmoved by the news of her death. There was no shock, no grief, no remorse—just the same icy detachment he wore like a second skin.

“What happened?” Enrico asked at last, his voice low and flat, devoid of any trace of feeling.

“She died on their balcony,” Nico replied, his tone steady, as if reciting a report. “Hypothermia.”

Enrico tilted his head slightly, considering the answer. He wasn’t searching for the truth; Nico knew that much. Details didn’t matter to him—only the optics. The word sat on Enrico’s tongue for a moment before he repeated it, testing its weight.

“Hypothermia,” he said, as though rolling the idea around in his mind.

“Yes, sir,” Nico confirmed with a nod, his posture straight and unflinching.

A beat of silence passed between them before Enrico leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on Nico. “Very well,” he said finally. “I will make the necessary arrangements. You may go.”

Nico gave a curt nod, his face betraying nothing as he turned to leave. But as he reached the door, his eyes caught movement. Anthony stood there, leaning against the doorframe, his presence so quiet it had almost gone unnoticed.

Tony’s eyes, red-rimmed and glistening, locked onto Nico’s with an intensity that made him pause. There was something raw in his younger brother’s gaze—disbelief, yes, but it was more than that. Worry, uncertainty, and simmering anger rippled beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

It was a look Nico recognized too well—the look of someone whose world was shifting beneath them, cracking at its foundations, leaving them scrambling for something solid to cling to.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Anthony moved swiftly, his footsteps heavier than usual. He grabbed Nico by the sleeve, pulling him aside into the hallway, away from the others, his voice dropping low into a harsh, urgent whisper.

"Nic, c’mon,” Anthony began, his words laced with desperation. “We both know Molly ain’t dumb enough to stay out in the cold 'til she froze to death on a fucking balcony. That don’t make no damn sense.”

Nico turned on him, sharp and sudden, his movements carrying a weight that silenced Anthony mid-breath. In an instant, Nico’s hand shot up, clamping over his younger brother’s mouth with a force that made Tony’s eyes widen.

"Shut. Up." Nico hissed, his voice barely above a whisper, but it carried a venom that could have cut through steel. His eyes bore into Anthony’s, cold and unrelenting, commanding silence.

Anthony froze, his breath hitching as confusion and frustration tangled inside him. He didn’t move until Nico slowly pulled his hand away, scanning the dimly lit hallway to ensure no one else was nearby. Satisfied they were alone, Nico leaned closer, his expression a mask of steel.

"You listen to me," Nico said, his voice now low and measured, every word deliberate and sharp as a blade. "If you want Molly buried with Ma—if you want her to rest where she belongs—you’ll keep your damn mouth shut. And you’ll tell them she died of hypothermia. Got it?"

Before Anthony could respond, Nico reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small blue glass bottle, its surface glinting faintly in the dim light. He pressed it into Anthony’s palm with more force than necessary, his fingers lingering for just a moment to drive home the gravity of the situation.

Anthony stared down at the laudanum bottle, the cold glass heavy in his hand, as if the truth itself had been transferred into his grasp. His breathing quickened as he pieced together the fragments of what Nico wasn’t saying. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet his brother’s, his voice cracking under the weight of his realization.

"So she—" Anthony stammered, his words faltering as the truth clawed its way up his throat.

Nico gave the barest of nods, his jaw tight, his face unreadable save for the faintest flicker of pain in his eyes.

"—died of hypothermia," Anthony finished, his voice breaking.

"That’s right," Nico said, his tone devoid of emotion, as though saying it aloud solidified the lie in stone.

Anthony swallowed hard, his grip tightening around the bottle as his tears threatened to spill over. "Nic, why—"

"Because it don’t matter now," Nico interrupted, his voice hardening again. "She’s gone. And the only thing that matters is what happens next. You hear me?"

Anthony nodded reluctantly, his shoulders sagging under the crushing weight of Nico’s words. The lie felt like a betrayal, but the truth would only cause more pain, more questions, more consequences they couldn’t afford.

For a moment, Nico’s stony expression softened, just enough for Anthony to glimpse the brother he remembered—the one who had always protected him, no matter the cost. But it was fleeting, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. Nico turned away, his overcoat swaying slightly as he moved down the hall.

Anthony stayed frozen in place, the bottle still clutched in his hand, as he watched Nico’s silhouette retreat into the shadows. His chest ached, his mind racing with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t. He knew, deep down, that his brother wasn’t just asking him to lie—he was asking him to bear the weight of it, to carry the burden of a truth that would never see the light of day.

As Nico disappeared around the corner, Anthony pressed the cool glass of the laudanum bottle to his forehead, letting out a shaky breath.

"Died of hypothermia," he whispered to himself, the words tasting bitter and wrong. But he knew he’d say them, just like Nico had told him to. For Molly. For Ma. For the family.

For a lie that was easier to bear than the truth.

 

Notes:

Note on Nico's Lie about Molly's Cause of Death:

In the 1930s, the Catholic Church regarded suicide as a mortal sin, frequently denying proper Christian burials for those who died this way, especially in consecrated ground. If the true cause of Molly's death had been known, she likely would not have been buried alongside her mother.

Also I decided to be nice and not release this on Dec 21 lol

Chapter 42: Ragno Reunion

Summary:

The three Ragno siblings reunite.
And nothing goes wrong... (she says... like a liar)

Notes:

*Update 1/5/2025! No chapter this weekend, the long distance gf is in town. I will be updating next weekend at the latest. Happy 2025 everyone!*

Consider this yalls holiday gift lol

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, making the three girls freeze. They could hear various hotel residents attempting to stop the intruder. A voice, tense with frustration and desperation, through the carried through the door.

“Molly, it’s me. Get the fuck offa me. Just come out! I’m not here to fight, sis I promise. Just... please stop hiding.”

---

Molly froze, the familiar voice cutting through her like a knife. Her body stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of Nico—no, Arackniss’s voice. That voice. It wasn’t just a sound; it was a wound she hadn’t realized was still bleeding. The familiar weight of his presence lingered in the air, as though it was pulling at something deep inside her, something she had locked away long ago.

Each word he spoke hit her like a hammer, forcing her back to memories she wasn’t prepared to relive. Those moments when things had been different—when she had felt like she belonged, when everything wasn’t tainted by his betrayal. But now? Now, all of it was just a reminder of what was lost, what was shattered. The realization sank in deeper, each syllable of his voice resonating in the pit of her stomach. Please stop hiding, he had said. The words stung more than she had expected, and for a fleeting moment, a vulnerability she’d tried so hard to bury crept through.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the tub, her knuckles white as she tried to steady her pulse. She could feel the heat rise in her chest, the burning mix of frustration, confusion, and a hollow pain swarming inside her. She wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. She couldn’t be.

Emily’s voice broke the moment’s tension, soft and concerned.

“Molly, are you okay?”

The words rang louder than they should have, cutting through the fog in her mind. She couldn’t keep up the mask—not for Emily. Not now.

Molly turned to Emily, her face pale and her eyes wide with confusion and pain, the vulnerability now undeniable.

“I… I’m not okay,” she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended.

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t expecting him. I wasn’t ready for this.” Her breath hitched as the flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

Emily’s eyes softened with concern, her hand reaching out as if to comfort Molly, but Molly instinctively pulled back slightly, still trying to grasp at some semblance of control.

"Hey," Emily whispered, "It's okay. You don't have to deal with it alone. You don't have to hide from me."

Molly looked at her, a flicker of gratitude mixed with a hint of shame. "I just—" She broke off, unsure of how to articulate the mess inside her. "I didn’t think I’d have to face him again. Not like this."

Emily’s expression tightened with understanding, her voice gentle but firm.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. I’m here, okay?”

Molly gave a slight nod, the weight in her chest easing just a little as she met Emily’s gaze.

“Thanks,” she whispered, feeling both overwhelmed and strangely relieved to not be hiding from Emily, to not have to carry the burden alone anymore.

Niffty’s voice, completely unaware of the quiet storm, bubbled up next, light and playful.

“Bad boy spider, huh?” she said, bouncing on her feet.

“Yeah, Husk’s all like ‘Bad boy spider’ and I’m like ‘What? Who’s that?’ and Husk’s all ‘Tell Molly to hide!’ but I didn’t think it was that serious, you know? I mean, I don’t think he’s that bad. Right?”

Molly’s gaze was distant as she processed Niffty’s words, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond with the same energy. She just muttered under her breath, more to herself than to anyone else,

“You don’t know the half of it.”

The silence stretched between them as her mind reeled. The memories of her brother— Nico—flooded back, the days when they had been close. She remembered how he had made her laugh, how they’d shared secret adventures away from their father, and the way their unspoken understanding had made her feel safe. But that was before the distance, before he chose their father’s side. Before everything had gone wrong.

“Molly… please…” Arackniss’s voice called again, softer now, carrying a vulnerability she hadn’t expected.

“I just want to talk. I just want to see you again.”

Her body tensed, but this time, there was no denial, no masking. She met Emily’s gaze and then took a deep breath.

“I can’t avoid him foreva, can I?” She could feel the weight of his words lingering like smoke in her lungs.

“I’m done runnin’. But I don’t know if I’m ready for this.” Her voice cracked, betraying her as the rawness of her emotions broke through.

Emily reached out, placing a hand on Molly’s shoulder in a gesture of support.

“You don’t have to do it alone, Molly. I’m here for whatever you need.”

Molly managed a small, shaky smile.

“Thanks, Em.”

Emily helped her get dressed, drying her hair and fur instantly with her magic. Molly’s mind kept spinning, but Emily’s calm presence made it easier to focus. As she finished, she took another deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead.

She walked toward the door, pausing before she opened it. The sight of Arackniss standing there, half her height but still exuding an undeniable presence, took her by surprise. His eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, it was as though time stood still. There was something in his gaze—something too complicated to decipher. His expression shifted, flickering with shock, pain, and perhaps even a hint of recognition.

Arackniss didn’t make a move. Instead, he stood frozen, Vaggie's spear pointed firmly at his back, the sharp tip pressing against his spine. His hands stayed at his sides, but his body was tense, as if the weight of the weapon was as much a warning as the threat itself.

Her heart hammered in her chest, but she didn’t look away. This was her choice. She wasn’t going to let him show weakness now.

She stepped past the doorframe, her voice cutting through the silence.

“What do you want, Arackniss?”

He looked at her, seemingly taken aback by her corpse like complexion, but quickly composed himself.

“Molly… I— wait how do you?” His voice faltered for a moment, but he pushed through it.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Then talk,” Molly demanded, her voice firm, unwavering.

“We’re going to the parlor.”

Without another word, she turned and led the way. Arackniss, urged on by Vaggie’s spear, followed, his footsteps hesitant but steady behind her. The tension between them was palpable, thick with unspoken history. When they reached the parlor, Molly turned to face him.

“Vaggie. You can leave.” The exorcist looked uncertain

“Molly I don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“I think this is  a family matter.” Molly said firmly her eyes not leaving her brother. Vaggie muttered something under her breath in Spanish before throwing her hands up and walking away. Arackniss gestured with his head towards Emily

“What bout her?”

“She’s family. She’s staying.” Molly said firmly.

Her stance was commanding, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Talk,” she said again, the single word sharp in the air.

Arackniss took a deep breath, his shoulders tense.

“Molly, I… I don’t know how to explain all of this. Everything I did, everything I’ve been—” He stopped, unable to find the words he wanted. His eyes dropped to the floor briefly, frustration clear in his expression.

“I thought… I thought I lost you. I was wrong. I’ve been wrong about everything.”

Molly’s gaze remained hard, unyielding as she studied him, waiting for the next words to come. She wasn’t sure if she could believe him yet, if she could ever trust him again. But she had to hear it. She had to know why.

The door to the parlor swung open with a loud bang, and Angel Dust strode in, his usual swagger punctuated by a storm of emotions beneath his confident exterior. He glanced briefly at Molly, his gaze softening just a little when he saw her standing there, the weight of her unease clear on her face. Then, in an instant, his eyes flicked over to Arackniss. The softening in his expression disappeared, replaced by a flicker of fury.

“The fuck’s going on in here?” Angel demanded, his voice sharp, blending concern with hostility as his eyes narrowed at the man who had once been their brother. “The fuck is he doing here?”

Molly’s jaw tightened, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady the surge of emotions that were beginning to spiral out of control.

“Tony, we was just talkin’,” she said, her voice measured, but the underlying tension was evident. “It’s fine.”

But Arackniss wasn’t having it. His presence filled the room with a palpable energy that seemed to challenge everything in its path. He glared at Angel, his voice rising with a bite of aggression.

“Stay out of this, Angel Dust. This ain’t none of ya business.”

“Oh, it is now,” Angel retorted, a sneer forming on his lips as he took a step forward, his body bristling with defensiveness.

“You think you can just waltz in here, after all this time, and start makin’ demands?”

Molly, sensing the escalating tension, quickly stepped between them. Her hand raised instinctively, her voice cutting through the thickening storm.

“Stop!” she snapped, her tone sharp and commanding.

“This ain’t the place for this.” Her eyes flicked between the two men, both of them seemingly incapable of holding back their animosity. Her anger simmered just beneath the surface, her pulse quickening as she tried to contain the chaos.

Angel’s eyes were blazing with a fierce, protective fire. He was a force in his own right, but there was something deeper—a wound that Arackniss had touched, something primal that was impossible to ignore.

“Exactly,” Angel snarled, his voice dripping with venom.

“Which is why he needs to leave.”

Arackniss, unwilling to back down, took a step forward, locking eyes with his brother.

“Or what?” he challenged, his tone mocking. “You gonna send the princess after me? Too much of a pussy to fight me yourself?”

Angel’s control snapped at the insult. With a growl, he threw a punch, his fist cutting through the air with a vicious force. But Arackniss was faster, his reflexes honed through years of survival. In a blur of motion, he caught Angel’s wrist mid-punch, stopping the attack in its tracks.

“Angel, don’t!” Husk’s voice rang out, filled with a rare note of panic. His eyes were wide with fear as he took a hesitant step forward, trying to assess the situation.

Still gripping his brother’s wrist, Arackniss turned his head slightly, eyeing Husk up and down, an amused smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He looked back at Angel, his gaze calculating and cruel.

“No fuckin’ way,” Arackniss cackled, releasing Angel’s hand and stepping back.

“Angel Dust’s fucking the washed-up pussy cat.”

The words hit like a slap, and Angel’s expression contorted with barely contained rage.

“Don’t call him that,” he growled, his teeth gritted, the fury barely suppressed.

Husk, standing on the sideline, tried once more to defuse the situation.

“Tony, don’t—” His voice wavered, helpless against the tide of aggression that seemed to rise between the two brothers.

“Tony?” Arackniss sneered, his laugh sharp.

“Holy shit. You don’t let nobody call you that no more. Not since you broke from the business.” He gave a mocking shake of his head, releasing Angel's wrist.

“Don’t worry, kitty. I won’t use that shit on this one. Don’t wanna fuck up his little face for his boss.”

Angel’s jaw tightened, but he refused to back down.

“You’re scared of Val?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension with a challenge.

Arackniss’s smirk deepened, the sharpness in his laugh only growing as he stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of arrogance and bitterness.

"Scared of Val?" he repeated, the words dripping with mockery. "You think I’m scared of him? Please. You’re the one still playing his little games, pretending to be important, pretending you matter.”

Angel was a blur of movement as he lunged at him, a sharp right hook aimed straight for his jaw. Arackniss’s smirk faded just a fraction as he swiftly sidestepped, avoiding the punch with a fluid grace, and countered with a vicious jab to Angel’s ribs. The force of it knocked the wind out of Angel, sending him staggering back, but the fury in his eyes only intensified.

“You’re not as fast as you think, brother,” Arackniss taunted, stepping back into a defensive stance, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

Angel grimaced, rubbing his side, but his anger surged, a flash of fire igniting in his chest. He attacked again, faster this time, throwing a series of quick punches. But Arackniss was ready, dodging and weaving with effortless ease, a mocking grin twisting his lips as he landed another hit—a sharp elbow to Angel’s shoulder, sending a jolt of pain down his arm.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Arackniss sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’re slow. Weak. Still the same scared little bitch you were when you left.”

Angel growled, his frustration bubbling over as he feigned a left jab before swiftly spinning and landing a solid right cross. It caught Arackniss off guard, sending him stumbling back for the first time. The shock in his eyes was brief, but it was enough to fuel Angel’s rage. He stepped forward, aiming for his brother’s throat, but Arackniss ducked just in time, using the momentum to slam his shoulder into Angel’s chest, sending him crashing into the nearby table.

The force of the impact splintered the wooden surface, and Angel’s vision blurred for a moment. His breath was ragged, but he didn’t hesitate—he pushed himself up, growling through clenched teeth.

Angel’s eyes locked on his brother’s, the fury in his chest flaring to a boiling point.

“You think you’re better than me?” he snarled. “You’re just a coward who took the easy way out. You didn’t gain power, Arackniss—you stole it. You stole it from Husk.”

At the mention of Husk’s name, Arackniss’s grip faltered, just for a split second, his eyes narrowing in an almost imperceptible flash of anger. It was enough for Angel to slip out of his hold, delivering a brutal knee to Arackniss’s gut. The force of it knocked the wind out of him, and he staggered back, gasping for breath.

“You don’t get to act like you’ve got it all figured out,” Angel spat, wiping his mouth, his chest heaving.

“You’re a parasite, Arackniss. You’ve always been one.”

The words hit home harder than any punch. Arackniss’s expression twisted, the mask of indifference cracking for just a moment, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and something deeper—something like regret. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that same bitter smirk.

“You think I give a fuck about your opinions?” Arackniss sneered, straightening up and brushing the dirt off his jacket.

“We both did what we had to do to get away from Pop, but here’s the difference: I gained power, while you— well...you became a slave.”

With a sudden, powerful scream, Angel launched himself at Arackniss again, fists flying, the air thick with the sound of fists connecting with flesh. The two collided with a chaotic fury, each strike more brutal than the last, neither one willing to back down.

But before the fight could escalate further, a wave of energy pulsed through the room, suddenly halting both of them in their tracks. The magic was thick and suffocating, like an invisible force wrapping around them both, pulling them apart. Arackniss and Angel were thrown backward by the unseen power, their movements frozen in place.

Emily, breathing heavily, floated in the center of the room, her hands raised, glowing with a soft, ethereal light. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of pain and resolve, the strain of the magic evident on her face.

"Enough!" Emily shouted, her voice trembling with the weight of the command. "Stop it, both of you!"

 

Notes:

on a more sappy note I’m overwhelmed by all the love this fic has gotten and am so excited to keep writing it until its completion. ty all <3 and have a good new year!

Chapter 43: Echoes of Control

Summary:

I’m baaaccckkkk and I bring family dramaaaa!

The commotion in the hallway drew the attention of the hotel residents, their doors creaking open as curious faces peeked out. Some wore scowls of annoyance, while others bore concern. Alastor emerged, his ever-present grin betraying a flicker of intrigue. Vaggie stormed into the corridor, her glare sharp and unwavering, while Charlie hurried after her, determined to calm whatever chaos had erupted. Niffty zipped past like an excited moth drawn to a flame. Husk grumbled under his breath, dragging himself from where he had witnessed the fight to join the rest of the residents, a half-empty glass in hand,

They arrived to find Emily standing protectively in front of Molly, who sat on the couch looking thoroughly exasperated. Across from them, Angel Dust and Arackniss were squared off like boxers in the ring, their heated argument palpable, held back only by the forces of Emily’s magics.

"What the hell is going on here?" Vaggie demanded, her voice slicing through the tension like a knife.

Emily, her soft demeanor hardened with frustration, turned to the group.

"These two idiots—excuse my language—are acting like children!" she snapped, gesturing toward Angel and Arackniss. "Won't stop yelling and arguing!" With that she dropped the spell causing them both to grunt with surprise as their autonomy came back to them.

"Hey, don’t look at me!" Angel shot back defensively. "He’s the one who started it!"

"Oh, grow up, Angel," Emily retorted sharply, her rare show of anger silencing the room for a beat. Her gaze shifted to Arackniss, narrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut steel.
"And you—can you have a single conversation without turning it into a shouting match? Or is stirring up chaos your only method of communication?"

Arackniss’s jaw tightened, his lips curling into a sneer.
"Don’t start with me, girlie,” he said coolly, his voice laced with venom.
"You have no idea what you’re talking about."

Emily didn’t flinch, taking a step forward. "Oh, don’t I? I’ve been here long enough to know this isn’t about the issue—you just like being right, no matter who you hurt in the process."

Angel snorted, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, because Mister Holier-Than-Thou over here never thinks he’s wrong. What a joke."

"Shut your mouth, Angel," Arackniss snapped, his composure cracking as he took a step closer to his brother.
"You’ve been riding on everyone else’s patience for years, and it’s about time someone called you out for it."

Angel’s eyes flashed with anger, and he jabbed a finger at Arackniss.
"Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt your little martyr act? Maybe if you weren’t so busy playing Dad’s lapdog, you’d actually do something useful for once!"

"Don’t you dare bring him into this!" Arackniss shouted, his voice rising to a dangerous pitch.

"Why not? Afraid someone might see the cracks in your perfect little image?" Angel shot back.

The argument escalated, the brothers now yelling over each other, their words clashing in a cacophony of accusations and insults. Emily’s attempts to intervene were drowned out by the noise. Molly sat on the couch, her head in her hands, her fingers pressing into her temples as though she could physically block out the chaos around her. Her hands began to tremble, her breathing shallow and uneven, as the noise grew louder, every shout and insult like a dagger to her already frazzled nerves.

Her patience, already frayed, finally snapped. With a forceful slam of her hands on the armrest, she shot to her feet, her voice erupting like a whip crack. "Basta! Cosa siete, bambini?! (Enough! What are you, children?!)"

The outburst hit the room like a thunderclap, silencing everyone. Angel and Arackniss froze mid-argument, their faces shifting from anger to wide-eyed shock.

"Non posso credere che dopo ottant'anni devo ancora fare da mamma a voi due! (I can’t believe that after eighty years I still have to play mom to you two!)" she continued, her hands flying in wild Italian gestures as her frustration boiled over into a torrent of words.

She whirled on Angel first, jabbing a finger at him. "E tu! Pensi sempre di avere ragione, ma sei solo testardo! (And you! You always think you’re right, but you’re just stubborn!)"

Then, without missing a beat, she turned on Arackniss, her fiery glare locking onto him. "E tu! Con il tuo atteggiamento da grande capo, credi di essere meglio degli altri? Che vergogna! (And you! With your big boss attitude, do you think you’re better than everyone else? Shame on you!)"

Her words hung heavy in the air, the sheer force of her anger leaving everyone stunned. Molly’s chest heaved as she took a step back, her gaze sweeping over the room with a mix of fury and disappointment. For once, not even Angel had a comeback, and Arackniss stood rooted to the spot, his expression unreadable.

The silence stretched, thick and oppressive, as if the room itself was holding its breath, unsure of what might happen next.

 

The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by Alastor’s muffled chuckle, which earned him a searing glare from Vaggie.

Stepping forward, Vaggie fixed Arackniss with a stern look. "If you’ve got something to say, say it now. Enough of this behind-the-scenes nonsense."

Arackniss let out a sharp exhale, crossing his arms. His tone was firm  as he addressed Molly in rapid Italian, his words deliberate.

"Nostro padre ha creato qualcosa di nuovo, qualcosa che potrebbe cambiare tutto. Non so cosa abbia intenzione di fare con esso, ma è legato al suo disperato bisogno di riunire di nuovo la 'famiglia'. Per favore, stai al sicuro e mantieni le distanze. Sai bene quanto me che non ci si può fidare di lui."
("Our father has created something new, something that could change everything. I don’t know what he plans to do with it, but it’s tied to his desperate need to get the 'family' back together. Please, stay safe and keep your distance. You know as well as I do, he can’t be trusted.")

 

Molly’s face fell, her eyes widening slightly. Angel, rolled his eyes with an exaggerated groan.

"Oh, per favore. Ci aspettiamo che ci crediate? E adesso, eh? Papà ha un raggio della morte? Una bomba nucleare? Perfetto. Avvertimenti criptici in italiano. Davvero utile, Niss. Che c’è dopo? Un biscotto della fortuna con una minaccia di morte?"

(Oh, please. You expect us to believe that? What’s next, huh? Dad’s got a death ray? A nuclear bomb? Great. Cryptic Italian warnings. Real helpful, Niss. What's next? A fortune cookie with a death threat?)

 

Arackniss shot Angel a sharp look, his jaw tightening. Turning toward Charlie, who had stepped forward with her arms crossed, he barely concealed his irritation.

"Do you mind saying that in English for the rest of us?" Charlie asked, her tone firm but measured.

Arackniss shrugged, his smirk faint and loaded with annoyance. "You told me to say it. You didn’t say I had to say it in English."

"Arackniss," Charlie said again, her tone hardening.

Ignoring her, Arackniss turned back to Molly, his expression softening just a fraction. His voice was lower, almost imploring. "I don’t care if you hate me, but I’m telling you the truth. I wouldn’t lie about this. You can trust me—just don’t trust him. Ever."

Molly’s throat tightened as she swallowed hard, her hands clenching at her sides. Her gaze locked with Arackniss’, searching his face for any sign of deceit but finding none.

Angel’s usual snark wavered as he glanced between his siblings, his unease evident. "What the hell is going on?" he muttered, the bravado in his voice fading.

Vaggie crossed her arms, her frown deepening. "What was that about?" she demanded, her gaze darting between Molly and Arackniss.

Emily stepped closer to Molly, her hand brushing against hers. "We’ll figure this out," she said gently, her voice steady and calm. "Whatever it is, we’ll face it together."

Molly nodded faintly, though her gaze lingered on Arackniss, her expression torn. He didn’t waver, his usual smug demeanor stripped away, replaced by something more serious, almost desperate.

"I’m done here," Arackniss muttered, turning on his heel and striding toward the door. "You’ve been warned. Do what you want with it."

Charlie watched him leave, her frustration evident as she turned to Molly, her voice softening. "Are you okay?"

Molly hesitated before nodding. "Yeah," she murmured, though her voice trembled. "I just… I need to think."

Charlie exchanged a glance with Vaggie before leaving with the others, the room falling into an uneasy quiet.

Molly’s hands trembled as she gripped Emily’s tightly, her voice a whisper. "What if he’s telling the truth?"

Emily squeezed her hands, her voice calm but resolute. "Then we’ll be ready."

Molly gave a small, grateful nod, though her gaze lingered on the door Arackniss had exited, her mind racing. Emily stayed by her side, a steady presence against the storm of uncertainty that loomed over them.

Notes:

u might have noticed I've changed my user from MK_the_Maniac to MK_the_Cosplayer. It still me! MK_the_Cosplayer is what I was on tiktok so I decided to make them match haha. speaking of I will be moving my short form vid content to youtube and Xiaohongshu/rednote if it does in fact get banned

Chapter 44: A house not a home (Prt 1)

Summary:

Flashbacks to life in the Ragno home, Post Maria's death

Notes:

CW: Enrico/Henroin typical child abuse

February 1, 1920 – 11 days after Maria’s passing- the twins age 8, Nico age 12

“I’ve pulled ya from school,” Enrico said calmly, seated at the head of the table. His tone carried the same weight as the pistol he kept tucked under his coat.

Molly, who had been standing beside him holding a dish one of the neighbors had brought, nearly dropped it in surprise. “W-what?” she stammered, her hands trembling as she barely managed to catch the dish.

“You's goin' deaf, girl? I said I pulled you from school.”

“But Papa—” Anthony began, his tone wary.

“Am I speaking to you, boy?” Enrico snapped, his sharp glare cutting across the table to his younger son.

Tony clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists under the table. He shook his head, forcing his eyes to stay glued to the plate in front of him.

“I need someone to take care of this house,” Enrico continued, his voice cold. “Don’t you think ya Mamma would want youse to help take care of us?”

Molly swallowed hard, her promise to her mother flashing vividly in her mind.

Mamma, mi prenderò cura di loro. Farò tutto ciò che serve.
(“Mama, I’ll take care of them. I’ll do whatever it takes.”)

She forced a smile and nodded, though her voice wavered as she replied, “Yes, Papa.”

Enrico nodded, satisfied. “Good. You’s too stupid for learnin’ anyways.”

Molly’s chest tightened at the words, but she fought back tears, her voice trembling as she held up the dish. “More stracotto, Papa?”

And from that day on, their home changed. The warm spaces their mother had occupied, filled with laughter and love, became cold and oppressive under their father’s shadow. For Molly, playing house was no longer a game—it was an expectation. And from an eight-year-old, it was a heavy one.

---

The routine in the Ragno household quickly settled into a grueling pattern. The boys went to school. Enrico schemed and raged. And Molly managed the house.

“Stupid girl!” Enrico roared one evening, slapping Molly across the face. She stumbled back, clutching her cheek as tears spilled down her face.

“I—I’m sorry, Papa,” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean to burn it! I—I’ll do better, I promise!”

The tomato sauce she’d been making had scorched the bottom of the pot, the smell of smoke filling the small apartment. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but exhaustion had claimed her as she stirred the pot, her eyelids heavy from endless chores.

“I asks you to do one thing! To help me take care of this family and you can’t even do this right!” Enrico bellowed, throwing his hands up in frustration before storming off to smoke a cigar.

Tony and Nico watched in silent horror, their young faces pale. When Enrico was out of sight, Nico stood and gently lifted Molly, who was slumped against the counter, still sobbing.

“No, I gotta—” Molly mumbled weakly, struggling in his arms.

“Shh,” Nico murmured, holding her close. “It’s okay. I got ya.”

Tony, already moving to scrape out the burnt sauce, quickly made adjustments to salvage the meal. He added fresh tomatoes and a little oil, working silently with Nico to ensure their father wouldn’t have another outburst.

By the time dinner was on the table, Molly was barely able to keep her eyes open. She insisted on sitting with her brothers, spooning a small portion of food onto her plate, but she didn’t even make it through the first bite before her head lolled forward onto the table.

Tony looked at her with a mix of pity and anger. “This ain’t right, Nic.”

Nico clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around his fork. “I know,” he muttered, his voice cold with restrained fury.

It was after the third week of Molly falling asleep at the dinner table that Nico decided to take action.

---

Nico had always been resourceful. It was how he’d made a friend in the widow next door, Ms. Alma. She was a sharp-tongued woman with a heart hidden beneath layers of grief. Her husband had died in an accident at the shipyard, leaving her with little except her tiny apartment and a few recipes she guarded like gold.

Nico had struck up a friendship with her months earlier when he’d helped carry her groceries up the stairs. It started with small things—helping her fix a broken chair or reaching high shelves she couldn’t. In return, she occasionally slipped him a cookie or shared scraps of advice.

He hadn’t told anyone about Ms. Alma, not even Tony. But when he saw Molly falling apart under the weight of their father’s expectations, he knew he needed her help.

One evening, while Tony distracted Enrico with talk of school, Nico slipped out and knocked on Ms. Alma’s door.

“Che c’è, ragazzo?” [“What is it, boy?”] she asked, her tone brusque but not unkind. She looked him up and down with a frown.

“Sei troppo magro. Devi mangiare di più.” [“You’re too skinny. You need to eat more.”]

“Non sono io,” [“It’s not me,”] Nico replied quickly.

“È mia sorella. Ha otto anni, e mio padre—la fa fare tutto. Cucina, pulisce, fa tutto. Sta per crollare, Ms. Alma. Per favore, puoi aiutarla?” [“It’s my sister. She’s eight, and my pops—he makes her do everything. Cooking, cleaning, everything. She’s gonna collapse, Ms. Alma. Please, can you help her?”]

Ms. Alma’s stern expression softened as she listened. After a long pause, she nodded.

“Va bene. La aiuterò. Sei un bravo ragazzo. Non posso sistemare tuo padre, ma... vedrò cosa posso fare per la piccola.”

[“All right. I’ll help her. You are a nice boy. I cannot gonna fix your father, but... I’ll see what I can do for the little one.”]

Ms. Alma, soon became a small beacon of hope for the Ragno children.
She appeased their father, explaining that she could teach Molly to cook more than just spaghetti. He had begrudgingly agreed, under the condition that she would not be paid one cent.

Ms. Alma pitied Molly, often shaking her head and muttering,

“Piccola moglie. Troppo giovane.” [“Little wife. Too young.”]

She taught Molly how to cook proper meals, clean stubborn stains, and even how to keep her father’s temper at bay—though no one could truly control Enrico.

“Questo è come cucini il pattina,” [“This is how you cook pattina.”] Ms. Alma would say, guiding Molly’s small hands.

“E le macchie di sangue? Te lo mostro.” [“And blood stains? I show you.”]

The widow’s presence softened the edges of Molly’s burden, but it didn’t erase it. Through it all, Molly endured. For her brothers, for her promise to her mother, and for the faint hope that someday, things might be different.

Notes:

"MK stop torturing them" NEVER. Also you ain't seen nothing yet 👹

Chapter 45: A House Not a Home (prt 2)

Summary:

Note 2/3/25 No update this week sorry. I hyperfixated on making cosplay and now hands no like small movements like typing

LABOUR by Paris Paloma plays loudly

Notes:

CW:
Men being creepy to Molly.
Enrico being a bad father.
Implied mafia violence

 

By 1924, the Ragno household had shifted into a new and even darker routine. Ms. Alma had mysteriously “passed away” after the twins had made her a Mother’s Day card in 1922, leaving them once again alone with their father. Enrico had been working with the mob since he returned from the war, but things changed when Prohibition presented new opportunities. That year, he struck gold. Enrico started bootlegging alcohol, and with the money flowing in, he grew bolder—and greedier.

One night, Enrico came home in a whirlwind of energy, his face alight with excitement as he slammed a wad of cash onto the dining room table.

“Look at this!” he exclaimed, grinning broadly. “We’re finally gettin’ somewhere! I told you, huh? Hard work pays off!”

Molly, now 12, stood by the stove, ladling soup into bowls, her stomach twisting as she watched him. She knew better than to ask questions, but the gleam in her father’s eyes spoke volumes. This wasn’t honest work—it never was.

Nico and Tony exchanged a glance across the table. They’d grown familiar with their father’s schemes, but this felt different. Bigger. More dangerous.

“Boys,” Enrico said, turning to them, “I’m gonna need your help from now on. There’s money to be made, but I can’t do it all myself. You’re old enough to start pullin’ your weight.”

Nico stiffened. “What kind of help?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Enrico snapped. “Youse gonna help me move the product. And if anyone gives you trouble, ya take care of it. Simple as that.”

Tony swallowed hard, his face paling.

“You mean... ya want us to—”

“To do what needs to be done,” Enrico interrupted sharply. “This ain’t a game. You want food on the table? Clothes on your back? Then you’ll do your part.”

Nico’s jaw tightened, but he nodded reluctantly. He didn’t have a choice—not really.

As the weeks went by, the boys started accompanying their father on late-night runs, delivering crates of illegal liquor to speakeasies and handling the “problems” that came with the territory. At first, they were just lookouts, but it didn’t take long for Enrico to push them deeper. He purchased one of the speakeasies a few months in, gaining the family more money, and more enemies.

Molly’s role in the family shifted as well. Enrico began hosting meetings at their apartment, inviting mobsters to drink and discuss business late into the night. It was Molly’s job to play hostess.  When the parties weren’t at their home, she was out at the speakeasy, shmoozing up guests and paying off the cops.

“Fix your hair,” Enrico ordered one evening, tossing her a ribbon as the first guests arrived. “If you won’t cut it at least make it presentable. And smile, for God’s sake. Nobody wants to see a sour face.”

Molly forced a smile, her hands trembling as she set out glasses and snacks. The men were loud and crude, their laughter echoing through the small apartment. They called her “sweetheart” and “doll,” patting her head or pinching her cheeks as she passed.

“You got a pretty one here, Enrico,” one of them, a man named Lorenzo said, leering at Molly. “Gonna have to keep an eye on her.”

Molly’s stomach churned, but she kept her head down, silently refilling their glasses. She hated every second of it, but she knew better than to complain.

Late that night, after the men had finally left, Molly collapsed onto the bed her brothers shared. her legs aching from standing all evening. Nico and Tony returned shortly after, their faces grim and tired. Nico pulled out a bottle he’d smuggled from their father’s stores out of his pocket and passed it around.

“You okay, Molls?” Tony asked, sitting beside her looking concerned.

She nodded faintly, though her eyes were red from holding back tears. “Just tired.”

Nico settled beside her, draping an arm around her shoulders. She shuddered at his touch, and he quickly pulled away, his brow furrowing in surprise and concern. “Hey, we is gonna get outta this,” he said softly. “All of us. I promise.”

That was the night they made their pact.

“We start saving. Every cent we can get.” Nico had proposed

“Enough to get us three train tickets. It’ll take bout $300 I thinks. Then we get on and get as far west as we can.”

Tony’s brows furrowed. “How? He don’t exactly hand out allowances.”

Nico hesitated for a moment before lowering his voice further. “From the hits. When he sends us out to finish somethin’ we skim from the wallets. Just enough that he won’t notice.”

And so the brothers began their plan. Every time they accompanied Enrico on one of his “jobs,” they’d pocket small amounts of cash from their targets, stashing it away in a tin can hidden beneath the floorboards of their room. Molly fished out coins from their father’s pockets that ended up in the laundry, and skimmed money off the top of tips she made at the speakeasy. It wasn’t much at first, but over time, the money grew, and so did their hope. They didn’t know how long it would take, but they were determined to save enough to escape their father’s grip—and the life he had forced them into.

For Molly, it was a glimmer of hope in the darkness. But until that day came, they had no choice but to endure.

---

By 1926 , the Ragno family was dripping with new money, its rise fueled by Enrico’s bootlegging operation, which he had started years earlier. Now thriving on the fruits of his illicit dealings, Enrico had risen to become the ruthless don of a powerful Italian Mafia “family”, ruling Brooklyn with fear, cunning and an iron grip.

The Ragno children wore the newest styles, had the most expensive clothing, to outsiders they were a success story- a family of Italian immigrants who had beaten the odds.

But behind closed doors, they were three siblings trapped under the rule of a tyrant, surviving only through their bond with each other and the substances that kept them numb. The once grimy apartment in the Lower East Side, which had been a tight and suffocating space for the family, was no longer enough for his newfound wealth. He quickly moved the family out of the tenement that had been their home for years, into a detached house in the more affluent neighborhoods of Brooklyn Heights. The area was a far cry from the gritty streets of their past, offering wide streets lined with brownstones and a more polished facade that fit Enrico’s desire for power and status.

The new house stood proudly on a quiet street, its freshly painted exterior gleaming in the sunlight. It had a spacious front yard, something that had been foreign to Molly, Nico, and Tony during their years in the cramped apartment. The house had everything: multiple rooms, high ceilings, and a large kitchen that Molly often found herself in, preparing meals for Enrico’s growing circle of influential friends. But despite the grandeur of the place, the shadows of the family’s past and the weight of Enrico’s criminal life still clung to them.

Inside, the house was furnished with expensive pieces that Enrico had picked out, showing off his new wealth. A large mahogany dining table sat in the center of the dining room, chairs upholstered in deep red velvet. The living room boasted a marble fireplace and leather armchairs that squeaked as guests sat down. Expensive rugs covered the hardwood floors, and ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Enrico made sure the place looked impressive—after all, the money didn’t just talk, it had to shout.

However, the house felt foreign to the Ragno children. Despite the elegance of their new surroundings, it never felt like a home. The stories that had been woven into the tenement house- the doorframe where their heights were measured, the scuffs on the floor from Anthony playing with his toy trains, the scratch on the ceiling from when Nico swung his yo-yo too hard, the dent in the wall corner  from Molly had slammed her elbow while playing tag- the physical memories their mother- they were gone. Enrico had his eyes firmly set on expanding his bootlegging operation, was often coming and going at all hours of the night, meeting with associates in the study or in the basement. It was here that Nico and Tony continued to grow more involved, taking on more dangerous jobs as Enrico’s empire expanded, now not only limited to liquor, but expanding to other forms of illicit substances. But their role in the family was no longer hidden—they were out in the open now, part of the operation, part of the machine that Enrico was building.

Molly, too, was thrust into a new role. Her days of quietly serving dinner in their old apartment had turned into an endless round of entertaining the mobsters and business associates that now frequented their home. Every night, Enrico would bring guests over—some old faces from the neighborhood, others unfamiliar, dressed in expensive suits and dripping with expensive cologne. They would talk business, laugh too loudly, and ogle at whistle at Molly when she passed through the room, her shoulders heavy with the weight of it all. They weren’t the men who had called her “sweetheart” in the past; now they were trying to make her feel small, to make her something to be admired only as a trophy.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Enrico, ya girl’s gonna be the talk of the town,” one of them said, his voice heavy with admiration as he sipped his whiskey.

Enrico would smile and puff on his cigar, reveling in the attention.

“Watch your eyes, my friend,” he’d say, his voice low and sharp, a warning behind the words. “That’s still my little girl you’re talking about. She’s only… what are ya now?”
“Fourteen sir.” Molly said, her voice no more than a whisper. Enrico nodded

“That’s right. Gotta marry her off to someone worthy, though. But when the time’s right, she’ll be a lady in the right circles. Just wait and see.”

He’d lean back in his chair, watching the other men nod in approval, knowing that his daughter was now another part of his business, a key player in his ongoing rise within the criminal underworld.

But those moments of superficial praise were brief, and Molly would retreat back into herself when they were over. She hated it here. She hated this life. But what could she do? Her father had made sure that they were in too deep to leave.

The house was a gilded cage, trapping them all in a life they hadn’t chosen but had been forced into. Drugs became a communal escape for the three of them. This place wasn’t a home. It was just another part of the empire Enrico was building—an empire that came with blood, sweat, and secrets.

---

It was a chilly afternoon in 1928 when Tony and Molly returned from the corner shop, arms full of groceries, the air crisp with the scent of fresh bread and bustling city life. The last thing they expected was to see a brand-new Ford Model T parked in the driveway, gleaming under the winter sun like a foreign object in their neighborhood.

Tony stopped dead in his tracks, narrowing his eyes as he glanced over at Molly. “What in the hell is this?” he muttered under his breath.

Molly blinked, her heart racing. “Is that a… a car?” It looked too shiny, too new for someone like their family. They knew their dad had wanted one, but he’d always talked about it like dream, not a reality. His business was in Brooklyn and Manhattan. They didn’t need a car.

Before Tony could respond, the door opened, and Nico stepped out, now a young man instead of a boy, wiping his hands on a rag. There was a strange, forced grin on his face, but something about it seemed off. The usual confidence was gone, replaced by something… different.

“Surprised?” Nico asked.

Molly’s eyes darted from the car to Nico, confused. “Did you… buy this?” she asked, her voice cracking with disbelief.

Nico rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Yeah, I bought it,” he snapped, his tone sharp and cold. “What, you think it just showed up?”

Tony shook his head, still trying to process. “But how? We don’t have the money for this. Where’d it come from?”

Nico’s jaw tightened, and he looked away before responding. “I used the money from the tin.”

Molly’s stomach dropped as she processed his words. That tin was supposed to be their emergency fund, their safety net. The thing they’d all been working toward, hoping to escape the mess their family was in. But now it was gone—spent on a car.

“I thought… we was saving for something else,” Molly said softly, her voice trembling with disappointment.

“Yeah, well, things change,” Nico replied bitterly, avoiding their gazes. “We ain’t exactly have time to wait around for a damn miracle.” He kicked the tire of the car, the sound sharp and angry. “Ya can’t always just keep dreaming of better days.”

The weight of what Nico had just done hung heavy between the three of them, like an invisible barrier that no one could cross. The car, the money, and Nico’s bitter words—none of it sat right with Tony and Molly. The gulf between them seemed to widen with every passing second.

Molly’s heart raced as she stood frozen on the sidewalk, staring at the gleaming Ford Model T. It wasn’t just the fact that Nico had spent the money from their shared savings. It was the way he’d acted, the coldness in his eyes when he looked at them. He wasn’t their brother anymore. Not the brother who had comforted them when their mother had passed. Not the brother who had been their protector, the one they’d leaned on when their father’s anger was too much to bear.

Tony, equally stunned, was the first to break the silence. His voice was sharp, raw with emotion.

“You really went and did that, huh?” His words hung in the air, accusatory and hurt.

Nico didn’t turn around. He just sat there, his hand gripping the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched. “Yeah. I did. What else did ya want me to do, Tony?”

Tony’s eyes flashed with anger, the betrayal seeping through every word. “What else?” he repeated, voice rising. “We were supposed to save that money together, Nico. We was so fuckin’ close! We were supposed to get out of this hellhole, together! You took it all and blew it on this!” He gestured wildly at the car, at the new life Nico had bought without them.

Molly’s eyes were wide, tears threatening to spill over. She didn’t speak at first, just stood there, staring at Nico. Her chest felt tight, her breaths shallow.

“I… I don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “We worked so hard for that money, Nico. We were counting on it. It was our way out. Our escape.”

Nico’s face hardened, and he turned to truly look at them for the first time since they’d come home. His expression was unreadable, a mask of bitterness. “You think it’s that easy?” he spat, anger rising in his tone. “You think we can just waltz outta here like everything’s gonna be fine? The world doesn’t work like that. People like us don’t get to dream, Mol.” He shot a glare at Tony. “You don’t get to dream about getting out. You deal with whatcha got.”

Tony’s fists clenched at his sides, his face flushed with frustration.

“So ya just thought you’d decide for all of us, huh?” he growled. “Ya think you can make decisions for us, like we’re just here to go along with whatever you want? I thought we were in this together, Nico. I thoughtcha had our backs.”

Nico’s eyes flicked to the ground, then back up at his brother. “I do have your backs, alright? But sometimes, you gotta do what’s best for yourself. Sometimes, you gotta take a damn opportunity when it’s in front of you.” He turned back to the car, the words coming out harsher with each passing second. “I did what I had to do. You don’t get it, but I’m not gonna apologize for it.”

Molly took a step forward, her hands trembling at her sides.

“But this wasn’t just your decision, Nico. This was ours. We were supposed to be a team. You’ve changed. You’re not the same anymore.”

Nico’s lips curled into a bitter, tight-lipped smile.

“Well, maybe I’m the one who’s learned something you two haven’t.” He looked at them both with a hard, cold expression.

“Maybe I’m the one who’s finally figured out that the world doesn’t give a damn about us. So yeah, I’m done waiting. I’m done with all this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Molly’s heart shattered at the words, the hurt cutting deeper than anything their father could have ever done. The bond that had once held the three of them together was beginning to crack, and she could feel it. The rift that had formed between them was too wide to ignore, too deep to repair in a single conversation.

Tony’s face was unreadable, his jaw tight as he stared at Nico.

“So this is it, then?” he asked quietly. “This is how it’s gonna be from now on?”

Nico didn’t respond. He simply stared at the steering wheel, a mixture of guilt and frustration flickering in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word.

Molly shook her head slowly, as if trying to shake off the disbelief that had taken root.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to us. To me.” Her voice trembled with a mixture of anger and sadness.

“Good,” Nico said gruffly. “Maybe ya shouldn’t believe in me so much.”

The words stung, the bitterness lacing every syllable. And just like that, it was clear. The boy they had looked up to, the brother they had once trusted, was gone. And in his place stood someone they didn’t know—a man who didn’t care about them, who cared more about himself than the family that had fought and struggled together.

With that final, bitter exchange, Nico climbed into the car and slammed the door behind him, the engine roaring to life as he sped off, leaving Tony and Molly standing on the sidewalk, their eyes wide and filled with the kind of heartbreak only betrayal could cause.

The twins stood there for a long moment, the cold wind biting at their skin. It felt like the world had shifted, and they had been left behind. They had lost Nico. The trust, the bond, everything they had once shared felt like it had been shattered in an instant.

For the first time, they weren’t sure who they were anymore. Or where they fit in this twisted version of family that had become their reality.

Neither of them said a word. They didn’t need to. They both knew. The person who had once been their brother, their protector, had disappeared. And in his place, there was only a stranger.

Notes:

Curious on what yall think of Nico/Arackniss now

(Yes this was the betrayal Molly Had referenced when she realized he was at the hotel)

Chapter 46: To shitty families and found ones

Summary:

I give u spiderphim and huskerdust content!

Notes:

I’m backkkkk (it's my birthday btw lol!)

Charlie’s gaze flicked between Angel, Molly, and Husk, her usual composure fraying at the edges. “What did he say?” she asked again, her voice sharp and commanding, slicing through the thick tension lingering in the room.

Angel exchanged a glance with Molly, who still looked pale and shaken. Neither of them spoke. Angel distracted himself by hurriedly texting a quick thank-you to Cherri, who had left once it was clear that Molly and Emily wouldn’t rip each other apart.

Vaggie wasn’t nearly as patient. Her tone was laced with irritation as she tightened her grip on her spear. “Answer her,” she demanded, her words leaving no room for hesitation.

Angel groaned theatrically and threw his hands up. “Why’s it always gotta be me? Molly heard him just fine.”

Molly opened her mouth to respond, but Emily placed a gentle hand on her arm, cutting her off. “Molly needs rest,” Emily said firmly, her tone leaving no space for argument. She looked pointedly at the others. “She’s had enough for one night. Angel can answer your questions.”

Molly scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t need—”

“You do.” Emily cut her off with unexpected firmness. “Please.”

The plea in her voice gave Molly pause. Emily rarely pushed like this, rarely asked for anything outright. She simply offered, suggested, and let others choose. But this time, there was something beneath the request—an urgency Molly couldn’t quite place.

Molly studied her for a moment before sighing. “Fine,” she muttered, squeezing Emily’s hand once before pulling away to stand. Her legs felt heavier than she expected, her mind still clouded with everything that had transpired.

Vaggie’s lips parted, clearly ready to protest, but Charlie rested a calming hand on her shoulder, silently signaling her to let it go for now. Emily tugged Molly toward the staircase, her touch protective and steady, guiding her away.

Once they were out of sight, Charlie turned back to Angel, her expression resolute. “Well?”

Angel sighed dramatically, leaning against the bar. “Fine, fine. Here’s what my charming brother had to say: Pops is cooking up something big—something dangerous. And, shocker, we shouldn’t trust him. Real cutting-edge stuff, right? Just Arackniss being his usual cryptic, broody self. Swooping in with warnings, pretending he actually gives a damn.” He downed the rest of his drink and slammed the glass onto the bar with exaggerated flair. “Super convincing.”

“What kind of ‘something’?” Vaggie pressed, her frown deepening.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Do I look like I know? He didn’t exactly hand me blueprints.”

Husk, who had been quietly pouring himself another drink, finally chimed in. “He’s talking about some kind of weapon or scheme. Something he thinks will force his family back together.”

Charlie’s brow furrowed. “Wait. How do you know that? You don’t speak Italian.”

Husk froze mid-motion, the glass hovering near his lips. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Actually, I do.”

Charlie and Vaggie blinked in unison, caught off guard by the unexpected revelation. Husk wasn’t exactly the open-book type.

“Since when?” Vaggie asked, her disbelief evident.

“Since I learned it,” Husk replied dryly before taking a long sip of his drink. He shifted uncomfortably under their stares, clearly regretting the slip. “You’d be surprised what you pick up when you’re not busy being a drunk mess.”

Charlie leaned forward, her voice urgent. “Then tell me everything. No more dodging.”

Husk sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright. The gist is, their dad’s got some kind of new project—something that could ‘change everything.’ Arackniss doesn’t know the details, but he’s sure it’s dangerous. He told Molly to stay away and keep safe. Said their old man can’t be trusted.”

Charlie’s lips pressed into a thin line as she absorbed the information. “And that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Husk confirmed, shrugging. “The rest was just Angel being... Angel.”

Angel threw his hands up in mock offense. “Oh, come on! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you were too busy being a wiseass to ask any real questions,” Husk deadpanned.

Angel scowled. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that, Whiskers—”

“Are you two dating or something?” Niffty piped up out of nowhere, her wide-eyed curiosity making both men jump.

“I, uh—” Angel stammered, his usual swagger momentarily thrown off.

“Yes,” Husk replied casually, wiping down the bar like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Charlie’s face lit up with delight. “Oh my gosh! Finally! I never thought you two would—”

“Babe,” Vaggie interrupted, pulling Charlie gently away. “Let’s give them some space. Besides, we need to figure out what to do about this new potential threat.”

Charlie practically bounced as they walked away, unable to contain her excitement. Meanwhile, Niffty stood between Husk and Angel, her grin mischievous.

“Is there a problem, Nif?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope!” she chirped. “But Alastor owes me a new knife!” With that, she dashed off, leaving the two men staring after her in confusion.

---

In the quiet of the upstairs hallway, Emily led Molly to her bedroom. The air was heavy with unspoken thoughts, but neither rushed to fill the silence.

Molly hesitated at the threshold, her hand lingering on the doorknob. It wasn’t her first time stepping into this room since that day, but it still felt... different. The memories clung to the walls like cobwebs, and her grip on Emily’s hand tightened just slightly. She’d been in and out to grab clothes or belongings, but she hadn’t stayed. Not since that night. The thought sent a ripple of unease through her, and she exhaled slowly, trying to shake it off.

Emily must have noticed, because she lifted her head to look at Molly, concern softening her expression. “You okay?”

Molly hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah… just feels weird bein’ back in here, y’know? Haven’t stayed in this room since—” She stopped herself, the words catching in her throat. Emily didn’t press, but her hand slipped from Molly’s and gently rested against her cheek instead, guiding her to look at her.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Emily said softly. “But… if you want me to stay, I can.”

Molly blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Emily fidgeted, her wings twitching slightly behind her. “I mean, only if you want me to,” she added quickly. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in here. Not tonight.”

Molly stared at her for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, a small, wry smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Y’know, for someone who’s all ‘heaven rules this’ and ‘heaven rules that,’ you sure are eager to break a few.”

Emily’s cheeks flushed pink, and she looked down, her hand dropping from Molly’s face. “I—I wasn’t suggesting anything inappropriate!” she stammered. “I just… I care about you. That’s all.”

Molly’s smile softened, and she reached out to tilt Emily’s chin back up so their eyes met. “I know, stellina. I’m just teasin’.” She paused, her tone growing quieter. “I’d like it if you stayed. If it’s not too much for you.”

Emily’s blush deepened, but she nodded. “Okay.”

They rearranged themselves under the covers, settling into a comfortable silence. Emily tucked herself against Molly’s side, her head resting just beneath Molly’s chin, while Molly’s lower arms wrapped securely around her.

“You don’t gotta worry, y’know,” Molly murmured after a while. “This room… it’s just a place. He doesn’t get to haunt it. Not while you’re here.”

Emily tilted her head to look up at her. “You sure?”

Molly’s arms tightened slightly around her. “Yeah. You’re like a lil’ angelic banisher or somethin’. Nothin’ bad sticks when you’re around.”

Emily chuckled softly, her breath warm against Molly’s neck. “That’s… sweet, in a weird way.”

Molly smiled, her eyes drifting shut. “Weird’s what I do best, doll.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the room didn’t feel like a trap, a prison, or a memory. It felt like a safe haven, filled with quiet warmth and the steady rhythm of Emily’s breathing.

---

Downstairs Husk prepared Angel his Cosmo as the two talked at the bar.

Angel leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued, narrowing his eyes. “So, hold up. You really speak Italian? Like, fluently? Not just a few phrases?”

Husk let out an exasperated sigh, clearly not expecting to dive into this conversation, but resigned. “Sì, lo parlo. Che c'è?” [Yeah, I do. What of it?]

Angel’s mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock, clearly amused. “What of it? What the hell, old man? You’ve been sittin’ here all this time, speakin' Italian, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Husk raised an eyebrow, clearly irritated but with a flicker of amusement in his gaze. “Didn’t think it mattered. Plus, it’s not something I go around bragging about.” He passed Angel the drink.

Angel threw his hands up in mock outrage, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. I’ve been over here flirting with u and bitching in’ Italian for months, and you just let me?”

Husk chuckled dryly. “Yeah, and it was hilarious.”

Angel’s jaw dropped further, eyes wide. “That’s just cruel, Husk.”

Husk's smirk was almost too satisfied.

“It was funny watching you try, alright?”

Angel huffed and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Still feels like a betrayal.”

Husk ignored him, his attention shifting back to the glass in his hand. He poured himself another drink, the sound of liquid filling the glass sharp in the quiet space. His voice softened as he looked down into his drink.

“Look, you and I both know Arackniss isn’t the kind of guy who gets scared easily. If he’s worried about what Henroin’s up to, then we should be too.”

Angel’s playful mood faded just a little as Husk’s tone took on a serious edge. He glanced up, his expression shifting.

“Don’t… worry. I don’t trust my pops neither. But you wanna talk about betrayal? You know what Arackniss did to me and Molly? Back up on Earth…”

Husk didn’t look at him, but his ears twitched slightly, sensing the shift in Angel’s mood.

“What happened?”

Angel’s gaze darkened as he leaned in closer, his voice tinged with the hurt he carried.

“He took our emergency escape fund—the one we set aside for when things got bad. We didn’t have much, but it was everything we could scrape together in case we needed a way out. And what did Arackniss do with it? He bought a goddamn car.”

Husk’s eyes narrowed, and he set his glass down slowly.

“He took it?” His voice was low, dark with the weight of what Angel was saying.

“Yeah,” Angel continued, his voice tight with frustration. “He took it like it was his to take. Didn’t even think twice about what it meant to me and Molly. That money was our chance, Husk. Our way out of Hell—not literal—you know what I fuckin’ mean, and he just blew it on a damn car. It didn’t mean anything to him. We didn’t mean anything to him.”

Husk sat there for a long moment, processing the sting of Angel’s words. The weight of what Angel had shared settled heavily between them. He sighed, looking down at the empty glass in front of him.

“That’s… cold.”

“Yeah,” Angel said bitterly, his arms still crossed as he stared at Husk. “It felt like he didn’t care. Like we were just… expendable. He was always good at hiding who he really was.”

Husk’s expression grew more somber, his claws tapping lightly against the wood of the bar.

“People change. They become something else, and you don’t even realize it until it's too late.”

Angel let out a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“Yeah, well, I get it now. I thought maybe, just maybe, I’d find something better down here. But turns out, Hell ain’t exactly big on happy endings.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared pain filling the space between them. Husk finally broke the quiet, his voice gruff but not unkind.

“Family... it’s complicated. Sometimes it’s the people who start as family that hurt you the most. And sometimes... it’s the ones you find along the way that actually stick.”

Angel glanced at him, a small, almost fragile smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You gettin’ sentimental on me, old man?”

Husk smirked, pouring himself another drink.

“Don’t get used to it, kid.”

Angel raised his glass, clinking it lightly against Husk’s.

“To shitty families and found ones.”

Husk chuckled, his eyes softening just a bit.

“I’ll drink to that.”

Chapter 47: A Game of Control

Summary:

Henroin's work with H8 begins and a certain Imp crime boss from Greed has been roped into his schemes

Notes:

Now the real story can begin…

Meanwhile- In Wonderland

 

The dimly lit office carried the stench of cigar smoke and aged whiskey, a scent thick enough to suffocate. The Imp crime boss Crimson sat with his back straight, hands folded neatly on the pristine mahogany table, his posture as refined as it was deceptive. His usual aura of dominance was subdued here, his expression carefully crafted into one of respect, bordering on servility. Across from him, Henroin sat, unbothered, swirling a glass of deep amber liquid between his fingers, his presence alone enough to make the air in the room feel heavier.

"So," Henroin finally spoke, his voice a smooth, deliberate purr. "I trust you understand the... opportunity I'm presenting you, Crimson?"

Crimson nodded, measured and slow. "Of course...boss. A chance like this... it's a privilege. And you don't want any of the mone from it?" The word "boss" felt strange on his tongue. But he had been desperate for funds- and Henroin could provide those and more. 

Henroin smirked, amused at the act. He could see the tightness in Crimson's jaw, the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly. Crimson may have been a big name in the Greed Ring, but here? Here, he was just another imp bending to a greater force. Henroin, a sinner, was naturally higher in Hell’s hierarchy, and he made sure Crimson knew it.

"H-8," Henroin continued, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. "A marvel of modern indulgence. Potent. Addictive. And, most importantly for you, profitable."

Crimson hummed, adjusting his hat slightly. "I've seen what it can do. You ain't sellin' me on the product, boss. We both know it’s good business. But what’s your angle?"

Henroin's smile remained unchanged, though his eyes darkened. "My angle, imp, is that I don’t just want business—I want an empire. The Lust Ring hasn’t been acquainted with this particular marvel yet. But that will change. I want the Greed Ring next. With you at the helm."

Crimson exhaled slowly, his mind already calculating. H-8 was dangerous, far beyond the usual vices he peddled. It didn’t just ruin lives—it owned them. A product like that was power in the purest form, but it also meant getting tangled in Henroin’s web. And once you were in, there was no getting out.

"And if I say no?" Crimson asked, voice careful.

Henroin chuckled, a rich, knowing sound. "Crimson, Crimson... you're an intelligent impling. You don’t need me to spell out what happens if you decline my generosity."

Crimson forced a tight-lipped smile. He understood the threat well enough. He wasn’t afraid of bloodshed, but Henroin? He was something else. Someone who made even the most ruthless devils wary.

"A'right," Crimson relented, reaching for his own glass, lifting it in a silent toast. "You got yourself a distributor."

Henroin raised his own in kind. "To mutually beneficial arrangements."

The glasses clinked, and the deal was sealed.

Henroin leaned back, exhaling a satisfied breath. "You’ll have full access to the supply chain, but there's one more thing you need to know. This ain't just another narcotic, Crimson. This is something special. Something designed to break people down, make ‘em nothin’ but violent, euphoric animals. No inhibitions, no conscience. Just raw, weaponized aggression."

Crimson's eyes flickered with intrigue, despite himself. "And you’re sure you can keep it under control?"

Henroin let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Control ain't the point. Chaos is. Fear is. The more unpredictable, the better. But don’t you worry about the formula—I got a specialist on it."

Crimson raised a brow. "And who might that be?"

Henroin smirked, pressing a button on the intercom. "BAXTER!" he shouted, his voice ringing through the room.

There was a pause before the intercom crackled to life, a frazzled, irritated voice cutting through the static. "What now?!"

Henroin grinned wider, looking back at Crimson. "That’s your answer."

Crimson frowned slightly. "Didn’t think Baxter was the type to work under anyone. He always struck me as... independent."

Henroin’s smirk widened into something cruel. "He was. But people change when they ain't got a choice. Baxter belongs to me. He does what I tell him to do, and right now, his job is making sure H-8 is better than ever."

The intercom crackled again. "If you called me up here for another goddamn power play, I swear to Lucifer—"

"Get in here, Baxter," Henroin interrupted, his voice firm, with just the slightest edge of amusement. "Now."

A long pause. Then, with an audible sigh, the intercom cut out.

Henroin leaned back, his expression smug as he turned back to Crimson. "You see, I know a thing or two about control. Including over people who think they can't be owned."

Crimson gave a small, knowing nod, though something in his gut twisted at the implications. Henroin wasn’t just expanding his empire—he was ensuring absolute dominion over every cog in his machine. And no matter how much Crimson ran Greed, at the end of the day, Henroin held the leash.

Henroin’s fingers drummed against the table. "This ain’t just about making a profit, Crimson. It’s about making a statement. You know how Mammon and Asmodeus hate each other? How they pretend to play nice while tearing at each other’s throats behind the scenes? Well, I intend to make that tension boil over. Lust and Greed are already at odds. This drug? It’ll push things past the tipping point. Make them turn on each other. And while they’re busy fighting their little war, I’ll be carving out my own domain."

Crimson narrowed his eyes slightly, gears turning in his head. "So you ain’t just sellin’ a drug. You’re stokin’ a war."

Henroin tilted his glass in agreement. "Exactly. Let Mammon and Asmodeus rip each other apart. By the time the dust settles, they'll be too weak to stop me from taking what I want."

A few moments later, the heavy doors creaked open, and Baxter shuffled inside, his movements stiff with poorly disguised irritation. His wide, tired bioluminescent eyes darted from Henroin to Crimson, then back again, his goggled lenses catching the dim light.

"This better be good," Baxter muttered, crossing his arms. His voice was edged with resentment, but there was no true defiance in his stance—only the exhausted resignation of a man with no escape.

Henroin leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. "Baxter, Crimson here was just expressing curiosity about our little operation. Thought it’d be best if he heard from the genius himself."

Baxter scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, if he’s got half a brain, he’ll know this ain't a business you walk away from."

Crimson gave him a long look, then turned back to Henroin. "I see what you mean."

Henroin grinned. "Good. Then let’s get to work."

 

Chapter 48: Breaking News: Greed in Crisis

Summary:

Mammon and Asmodeus ignite chaos in the Greed Ring, sparking a violent power struggle. As Hell watches in shock, Charlie seeks answers, Angel gets a message, and Molly comforts Emily amid the unfolding conflict.

"Breaking News in Hell Today!"

The sudden sound of Katie Killjoy’s loud, brash voice made the hotel residents jump, startled away from their typical activities, and turn to the TV, which had mysteriously turned on by itself.

“What the fuck?” Husk grumbled, scanning around for the remote.

“Did one of you fuckers—”

“Allow me to take care of this, Husker,” Alastor interjected cheerfully, raising a hand.

“Alastor, don’t,” Vaggie ordered sharply, her voice tinged with frustration.

The screen flickered before cutting to the breaking news report, startling the hotel members.

“We have just received word that there is widespread havoc in the Greed Ring,” Katie Killjoy’s manic voice rang out, her grin spreading across the screen, sharp teeth glinting under the studio lights. “Reports indicate widespread chaos, violence, and destruction. And guess who’s pointing fingers? None other than Mammon, and he’s blaming Asmodeus and the Lust Ring for the mess!”

Tom Trench leaned forward, smirking. “Oof, sounds like someone’s about to throw a tantrum.”

Katie’s voice grew louder, her excitement palpable. “More like a full-blown war!” she shouted. “If this keeps up, we could be looking at a major power struggle between two of Hell’s most influential rings. Stay tuned as we bring you updates on this developing disaster!”

The camera zoomed in on scenes of destruction, showing a brutal street brawl in the Greed Ring. Violent images flashed across the screen—fires engulfing whole buildings, riots tearing apart businesses and homes. Bodies littered the ground, some clearly lifeless, others writhing in agony as the camera captured every gory detail. Blood sprayed across the pavement, painting the streets red, and in the background, loud explosions shook the air, sending chunks of concrete flying.

Amidst the chaos, Tom Trench raised an eyebrow, watching the screen with a bemused expression.

“This is something you’d expect in Wrath, not Greed,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Guess Mammon’s finally cracked under the pressure. Talk about a royal mess.” Fake applause and laughter echoed from the television

Emily’s face twisted in horror as the graphic violence unfolded on the screen. Her hand instinctively flew to her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief. Her normal pallor was taking on a slight green tinge. “This… this can’t be real, can it?” she muttered, her voice strained with disbelief as she watched dismembered limbs and chaos unfold before her eyes.

Molly, noticing Emily’s distress, quickly moved to her side. She placed a hand gently on Emily's shoulder, offering quiet comfort and turning her away from the screen.

"Hey, it's okay," Molly murmured softly, her voice soothing. "This is Hell. It's not always pretty. Just focus on your breathing. We’re all here. We're all safe"

Niffty, on the other hand, giggled at the violence, her eyes lighting up with a mischievous gleam.

“Oh, this is so fun! Look at them go! Look at the bloood!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with twisted joy. She laid down on the rug, kicking her feet, her hands clasped together in excitement as she watched the bloodshed unfold.

Vaggie clenched her fists, her brow furrowing as she watched the carnage. “What is going on over there?” she muttered, her voice low with concern. “If Mammon and Asmodeus are going at it, this could get a lot worse before it gets better.”

Alastor, though still wearing his eternal grin, raised an eyebrow as he observed the broadcast, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a subtle, barely noticeable tension in his smile. His voice remained light, but there was a hint of concern beneath it. “A most unexpected development… one wonders how this will play out. It sure will be entertaining,” he mused, never dropping his smile, but his eyes betrayed the hint of unease.

Husk, sitting off to the side, stared at the screen in disbelief, his usual cynicism giving way to an uneasy silence. “This is bad,” he muttered, finally abandoning his search for the remote.

Charlie, panicking, suddenly stood up, her breath quickening as she stared at the screen in fear. Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and dialed her father’s number, pressing the device to her ear. "Dad, are you seeing this? What’s happening in the Greed Ring? I—I don’t know what to do!” Her voice shook, panic creeping in as she stared at the chaotic images.

There was a long pause before her father’s voice crackled over the line, sounding confused. “Charlie? I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s going on in the Greed Ring? Is there trouble?” His tone was distant, and Charlie could hear the faint sound of papers rustling in the background.

Charlie’s heart raced, her desperation mounting. “Dad, please, turn on the TV. You need to see this. The whole place is falling apart! This could get way worse. Please, just turn it on, okay?”

There was a brief silence before he sighed. “Alright, alright… Give me a second.”

After a moment, the sound of the TV clicking on came through the phone, and Charlie’s father muttered in surprise as the news broadcast filled the air. “What in the unholy hell… what is happening?”

Charlie’s voice softened, but the urgency was still there. “Dad, what do you need me to do? What should we do?”

“I—I’ll contact the right people. Stay calm, Charlie. We’ll figure this out. Just… just be safe, alright?” he replied, his voice finally showing some of the authority that usually came with his position.

Angel’s phone buzzed suddenly, and he glanced at it with a frown. He swiped to read the message, his brow furrowing. A text from an unknown number popped up on the screen. Five words.

"I tried to warn you."

His eyes widened slightly, tension building in his chest. He didn't respond, his gaze flicking back to the screen as his mind raced. As the camera continued to show the aftermath of explosions, decimated buildings, and the broken bodies of Hell’s residents, Angel’s face hardened, his usual confidence slipping away for a moment. The message, combined with the chaos on screen, left him feeling more uneasy than he cared to admit.

Molly, standing beside him, caught his eye. Without saying a word, she gave him a knowing look, her expression filled with unspoken understanding.

Chapter 49: Beyond the Golden Gates

Summary:

Takes Place after chapter 19- golden gates of gloom
Molly reunites with her mother

Notes:

sorry for the delay with updates. I’m planning my moms wedding haha. Between that & full time job not much time to write. I will finish this fic tho!

lmk if the way I formatted the italian/english makes it hard to read and if u have a better suggestion.
Apologies to anyone who speaks italian if the translations are off 😅

“Fine. Ya wanna make me happy? See if you can find my Ma up here.”

“I can do that!” The angel said, still somehow chipper. “What’s her name?”

“Maria Antonia Ragno”

---

Flashback: December 21, 1937

Emily flew quickly down the hallway, anxiety fluttering in her chest like trapped wings. She passed rows of identical white doors, each glowing faintly in the warm light, until she spotted a pair of angels deep in conversation near an open archway.

She stopped abruptly, almost skidding to a halt, and blurted out, “Excuse me! I'm looking for—uh, Maria Antonia Ragno?”

One of the higher angels blinked at her, then nodded and pointed down a smaller corridor. “She’s just around that bend,” they said kindly. Emily nodded her thanks and rushed off.

And then she saw her.

The woman standing near the window turned just enough that the light hit her face—and it was unmistakable. Emily froze, stunned. She had the same face as Molly. Softer, older, but it was her. The same high cheekbones, the same shape of her eyes, even the way she stood felt familiar.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer. “Um—excuse me?”

The woman turned, eyes gentle but questioning. “Sì?”

Emily paused. The accent was thick—musical and rich—but the word was clearly not English. “Oh—okay—um…” she hesitated. “I think someone is looking for you?”

Maria tilted her head slightly, brow knitting. She clearly didn’t understand.

“Oh gosh, you don’t speak English, do you?” Emily stammered, heart sinking. “Oh my goodness—I’m so sorry—I can get someone to translate, I didn’t mean to just barge up to you and—Molly! Molly sent me to find you!”

At the sound of that name, Maria’s expression changed completely. Her eyes went wide, her mouth parted as though she’d heard a ghost.

“Molly?” she repeated, breath catching.

Emily nodded quickly, gesturing urgently. “Yes! Yes, Molly! She said to find you!”

Maria stepped forward and grabbed Emily’s wrist tightly. 

“Portami da lei,” she said, voice low and trembling. 

Emily didn’t understand the words, but she understood the tone. 

“Yes! Yes, come with me—this way!”

They walked briskly, Emily occasionally glancing back to make sure the woman—Maria, she reminded herself—was still behind her. She was. Her pace was unyielding, like someone marching toward fate.

They reached the door. Emily knocked once, hesitated, then opened it.

Inside, Molly sat curled in a chair, her arms wrapped tightly around her four legs. She looked up the moment the door creaked open—and froze.

“Mamma?” she whispered.

Maria stepped in, her voice barely more than a breath.

“Sì… amore mio. Sono io.” [Yes… my love. It’s me.]

Molly’s mouth fell open, her eyes flooding with tears.

“Allora sono morta davvero?” [So I really am dead?]

Maria’s face softened, and she gave a small, solemn nod. “Sì, Molly.” [Yes, Molly.]

There was silence for a beat—then a sob broke through Molly’s chest like a dam had split. She ran forward and collapsed into her mother’s arms, clinging to her like a drowning child clutches driftwood. Maria held her tightly, murmuring soft Italian lullabies into her hair, her hands stroking gently over Molly’s back.

“Mi sei mancata. Mi sei mancata così tanto. E mi dispiace… mi dispiace così tanto,” Molly choked, barely able to breathe between sobs. [I missed you. I missed you so much. And I’m so, so sorry.] Maria shushed her distraught daughter.

Emily stood frozen in the doorway, hands clasped nervously in front of her, unsure whether to stay or leave. Maria glanced up, her expression gentle and kind. She nodded toward the door, silently thanking the seraphim. Emily took the hint and nodded back, quickly slipping away and quietly closing the door behind her.

Inside, Molly clung to her mother’s dress, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Maria pulled her onto the bed, sitting with her, still holding her close.

Maria’s arms were thin but strong, wrapping around her daughter with the fierce tenderness only a mother could give. She whispered soft things in Italian as she stroked Molly’s hair, the way she used to when nightmares came or fevers burned through her little body. Her voice hadn’t changed. The smell of rosewater clung to her dress, and Molly could almost pretend she was a kid again, safe in her mother’s arms, before everything went wrong.

“Ti ho aspettato,” Maria whispered. [I waited for you.]

“Mi dispiace,” Molly choked out. [I’m sorry.]

Maria shook her head, cupping her daughter’s face gently. “Shh. Non devi scusarti. Sei qui. Questo è tutto ciò che conta.” [Shh. You don’t have to apologize. You’re here. That’s all that matters.]

But Molly shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “No, Mamma… ti avevo promesso che avrei lottato. Che non mi sarei arresa. Ti ricordi?” [No, Momma… I promised you I’d fight. That I wouldn’t give up. Remember?] Her voice cracked. “Quando… quando stavi morendo, a letto, quando ti ho promesso—” [When you— you were dying in bed, when I promised—]

Maria’s expression softened with sorrow. She waited.

Molly’s voice was thick with grief as she whispered, “Devi promettermi... che non ti arrenderai. La vita è preziosa, anche quando è difficile.” [You have to promise me… that you won’t give up. Life is precious, even when it’s hard.]

She buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. “Lo prometto, Mamma. Combatterò per te. Lo giuro.” [I promise, Momma. I’ll fight for you. I swear it.]

Her breath hitched. “Lo dicevo sul serio. Ma… non ho lottato abbastanza. Ho lasciato che tutto diventasse così buio. Ti ho delusa.” [I meant it. But I… I didn’t fight hard enough. I let everything get so dark. I let you down.]

Maria cupped her daughter’s face gently. “No. Mai.” [No. Never.] She kissed her forehead with trembling tenderness. “Sei la mia bambina. Sono così orgogliosa di te.” [You’re my little girl. I’m so proud of you.]

Molly looked up and met her mother's eyes.

“Pensavo che—dopo tutto quello che è successo—non ti avrei più rivista.” [I thought—after everything—I wasn’t gonna get to see you again.]

Molly didn’t realize she was crying until Maria wiped the tears from her cheeks. Maria gave her a soft, sad smile. “Pensavi davvero che il Paradiso mi avrebbe negato la mia bambina?” [Did you really think Heaven would deny me my little girl?]

That made Molly snort through a fresh wave of tears. “Sì, sinceramente. Ci avrei anche scommesso dei soldi.” [Yeah, honestly. Would’ve bet money on it.]

Maria leaned back just enough to look at her properly. “Che cosa ti è successo, amore mio?” [What happened to you, my love?]

Molly looked away. “Non credo di volerne parlare… non ancora.” [I don’t think I wanna talk about it yet.]

Maria nodded. “Va bene. Quando sarai pronta.” [That’s okay. When you’re ready.]

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was soft. Sacred. They sat like that for a while, just breathing. Just existing. And when Molly’s stomach clenched again in withdrawal, Maria wordlessly adjusted her hold so her daughter could lay her head in her lap, fingers combing gently through tangled curls. Molly could tell her mother knew what was ailing her. But for now at least, Maria was withholding any judgement or questions.

After some time passed, Maria paused, her fingers still weaving gently through Molly’s hair. “Avrei potuto imparare l’inglese, lo sai. Ma ho scelto di non farlo. Vuoi sapere perché?” [I could have learned English, you know. I chose not to. Do you want to know why I didn’t?]

Molly blinked up at her. “Perché?” [Why?]

Maria gave her a sly smile. “Perché faceva impazzire tuo padre. Ma non poteva costringermi a imparare.” [Because it drove your father nuts. But he couldn’t force me to learn.]

Molly’s mouth dropped open. Then, slowly, she started to laugh—a small, breathless laugh, full of disbelief and aching joy.

“Abbiamo tutti le nostre piccole ribellioni,” Maria added with a wink. [We all have our small rebellions.]

“La mia erano i capelli,” Molly said, grinning now through her tears. [Mine was my hair.] “Sia Papà che mio marito volevano che li tagliassi. Mi sono rifiutata. Quando Papà ha minacciato di farlo lui, gli ho detto che uscire con un brutto taglio non avrebbe fatto bene alla reputazione della famiglia. Mio marito ha smesso di insistere quando gli ho fatto notare che tenerli lunghi significava meno tagli… quindi più soldi risparmiati.” [Both Papa and my husband wanted me to cut it. I refused. When Papa threatened to do it himself, I told him me going out with a bad haircut wouldn’t look good on the family. My husband stopped pressuring me when I pointed out I didn’t have to go for haircuts often if I kept it long—saved him money.]

Maria laughed, a rich, melodious sound, and tugged gently on a lock of Molly’s hair. “Sei sempre stata furba.” [You always were clever.]

“E tu sempre testarda,” Molly shot back. [And you always were stubborn.]

They smiled at each other, and for the first time since she’d arrived, Molly felt like she could breathe again. Heaven wasn’t what she’d expected. But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a mistake.

Not if her mother was here.

Molly closed her eyes. “Mi è mancato questo,” she whispered. [I missed this.] “Mi sei mancata.” [I missed you.]

Maria bent low and kissed her forehead. “Anch’io, amore mio.” [Me too, my love.]

---

Outside the door, Emily hovered uncertainly.

She paced the hallway a few times, wringing her hands and chewing her lip. A few older angels gave her odd looks as they passed, but she ignored them. Finally, she leaned against the wall and sat down with a soft huff. She pulled her knees to her chest, wings drooping as she exhaled.

Maybe she had been too pushy. She didn’t know how to help someone like Molly. All she wanted was to make the new arrival feel welcome, to maybe ease the pain she clearly carried—but everything she said just seemed to make it worse.

“Stupid,” she muttered to herself. “Why’d I think I could help?”

A gentle presence settled beside her.

Emily looked up to see an older angel—a high-ranking one, with lines at the corners of her eyes and wings that shimmered like pearl. She didn’t say anything right away. Just sat beside her.

“You did good, Seraphim,” the older angel finally said. “She needed this.”

“But I upset her…”

“She needed that, too. It brought her here.”

Emily blinked, then nodded slowly. “She said she was in withdrawal. I… I didn’t even know you could bring that here.”

“It comes with them,” the older angel said. “All their scars. Seen and unseen.”

Emily sat quietly for a long while. “I’m not giving up on her,” she said finally.

The elder angel nodded. “Good. Just… give her time.”

---

Back in the room, Molly had dozed off—fitful and restless—but Maria remained, sitting still and watchful, her hand never leaving her daughter’s hair.

She looked down at Molly and whispered softly, “Ti proteggerò. Anche adesso.” [I’ll protect you. Even now.]

She glanced at the door thoughtfully. "Quell'angioletto... sta cercando. Forse imparerà come aiutarti. O forse sarai tu a insegnarle." [That little angel… she’s trying. Maybe she’ll learn how to help you. Or maybe you’ll teach her.]

Molly stirred slightly and Maria soothed her with a quiet hum—a lullaby from long ago, one her daughter hadn’t heard since childhood.

Outside, Heaven was bright and golden and serene. Inside, for the first time in a long time, Molly was safe.

And that would be enough—for now.

 

Notes:

Portami da lei = [Take me to her]

 

Curious if anyone can guess why/how Molly made it to heaven in the comments

(if ur a tiktok mutual & I've told no spoilers lol)

Chapter 50: The House Always Wins

Summary:

Angel's newest client isn't all he seems. Can he trust him?

Notes:

Sorry this is so late. Tbh I was really bummed after the whole scraping thing. But fuck it I've written this much lol. FUCK AI. Anyways! More story!

A text from an unknown number popped up on the screen. Five words.: "I tried to warn you."

His eyes widened slightly, tension building in his chest. He didn't respond, his gaze flicking back to the screen as his mind raced. As the camera continued to show the aftermath of explosions, decimated buildings, and the broken bodies of Hell’s residents, Angel’s face hardened, his usual confidence slipping away for a moment. The message, combined with the chaos on screen, left him feeling more uneasy than he cared to admit.

Molly, standing beside him, caught his eye. Without saying a word, she gave him a knowing look, her expression filled with unspoken understanding.

---

“Can you fucking believe him? Texting me from an unknown number, trying to be all mysterious,” Angel ranted, hurriedly doing his hair and makeup. Molly sat on his bed, letting him vent. After a moment, she spoke up.

“Would you have read it if you knew it was from him?”

Angel snapped the compact shut, turning to his sister with a look of shock.

“What?”

“I said, would youse have—”

“No, I heard what ya said. What the fuck, Molly? You’re taking his side?”

That got the female spider’s attention. Molly stood and walked towards her brother, arms crossed.

“His side? Are you fucking kidding me? This is so much bigger than you twos' petty squabbling. And for your information, he and I were gonna have a nice, civil chat before youse came in and made it all hostile.”

“Oh, sure. I’m sure it was gonna be all upfront and charming.”

“Might have been.”

“Oh, c’mon, sis, don’t be stupid.”

Molly froze, body tensing. Angel realized his mistake.

“Shit, Molls, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t you need to leave for work?” Molly snapped, her voice icy, glaring at him with hurt in her eyes.

---

Angel hurried to the front door and climbed into the limo. Once seated, he squeezed his eyes shut, his knuckles white against the plush leather seat. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he’d said it. Too much like how Pops used to sneer at him and his siblings when they fought back. Too much like he’d become the very thing he hated.

His phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. A message from Valentino:

"Don't fuck this up, amorcito. You’re not shooting today. Some rich fuck named Cain Goron paid for the whole afternoon. Penthouse suite at the Tempest. Wear your usual. Don’t ask questions."

Angel huffed, stuffing the phone back into his bag.

"Penthouse? What kinda freak’s got that much to blow?"

The limo pulled up to the grand, glowing entrance of the Tempest Casino. The driver gave Angel a knowing wink.

"Try not to piss off the rich folk, huh?"

---

The casino’s entrance glimmered in gold and black, sleek and intimidating. He’d been here before—usually booked by winners wanting a more personal way to celebrate their jackpot. But the penthouse? That was new. He entered and was immediately ushered to a private room by one of the workers. An ornate obsidian elevator awaited him. He entered trying to remain calm in this unfamiliar scene. It had been a while since someone had paid for his private services. Val certainly made sure he didn’t come cheap.

The elevator hummed as it climbed, each ding feeling like a countdown to something worse than usual. Angel couldn’t shake the tightness in his chest, the gut feeling that this wasn’t just another gig.

The elevator chimed softly, the sound too gentle for the weight in Angel’s chest. He stepped out, heels clicking against polished marble floors that sparkled like ice under the chandeliers. The Tempest Casino penthouse loomed around him—sleek, decadent, and cold. The kind of place that oozed power and isolation.

Fitting.

Angel’s fingers curled tighter around his blazer cuffs, knuckles blanching. His expression—painted and perfect—didn’t crack. Not yet. When the doors slid open, Angel glanced around, half-expecting some rich pervert or a high-rolling creep. Instead, a glass clinked near the bar. Angel’s heart dropped as he caught sight of the familiar figure.

“Gotta say, ‘Niss,” he called out, eyes scanning the gold and obsidian décor, “this is low. Even for you.”

Arackniss stood there in a sharp gray suit, drink in hand, back turned to his brother. His silhouette was stiff, shoulders tight with tension.

 

“Shut up,” Arackniss muttered without turning. “I needed a way to get you alone.”

Angel gave a bitter laugh. “Alone? What, so you could finally kill me? Sell me back to Daddy dearest? Real heartwarming.”

That got a reaction. Arackniss turned sharply, eyes flashing. “You wish.”

They stared at each other across the room—years of venom and silence between them. Angel’s smile was razor-thin. Arackniss didn’t smile at all.

“Let me guess,” Angel said, sauntering forward like a cat ready to pounce. “You got a problem only your fuck-up brother can solve. And now you’re gonna play the whole ‘we’re family’ card, right?”

Arackniss took a deep breath, jaw tightening as he looked away. “That angel Molly’s always with... She good to her?”

Angel stopped short, something in his chest lurching. “The fuck do you care?”

“Because I do,” Arackniss said quietly. “Even if you think I shouldn’t.”

Angel laughed again, but it sounded hollow. “You wanna talk about who should care? Let’s talk about you, the favorite. Daddy’s little executive. You got out clean. Golden boy. Left me and Molly behind.”

“You think I got out clean?” Arackniss snapped. “I’ve got blood on my hands, same as you. You think this penthouse makes it better?”

“No, but the casino don’t hurt,” Angel spat. “Especially when you stole it from someone I—”
He cut himself off. Too late. The damage was done.

Arackniss’s voice dropped. “Husk.”

Angel looked away, jaw clenched, mascara thick around his eyes. “You had no right.”

“I did what I had to do,” Arackniss said, voice flat now. “Same as you did when you walked into that studio and signed your contract.”

A silence bloomed between them, heavy and nauseating. Angel reached for the minibar, pouring himself something strong. Arackniss made no move to stop him. Angel’s hands were trembling. He didn’t want Arackniss to see.

“You ever regret it?” Arackniss asked, softer now. “The choices you made?”

Angel’s voice was barely a whisper. “Every fuckin’ day.”

The drink burned all the way down. It didn’t help.

“You’re no better than me, little brother,” Arackniss muttered. “But maybe you and those hotel freaks can help stop what’s coming.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You got my message?”

“Yeah. Real cute.” Aracknsis ignored him

“Mammon and Asmodeus are on the brink of war. And Pops? He’s not out of the game. He’s just playing quieter now. He’s got H-8 flooding the streets, and the casino’s one of the pipelines.”

Angel blinked, the words hitting like cold water. “You serious? I thought his chemist who could makes it fuckin’ died I thought we-”

“We did destroy his old stock. He’s got a new chemist. Some freak called Baxter.”

“Why is youse telling me this? Couldn’t ya have just told us this at the hotel?” Arackniss clenched his fists and took a deep breath turning away from his brother

“I was planning on telling Molly. Before you intervened.”

“Oh so it’s all my fault again. Anthony the screw up- why don’t I just-“

“Will you shut the fuck up? There’s a vault two floors down. Full of the stuff. If you can destroy the supply, burn it, whatever—you cut a big piece out of the trade.”

 

Angel went silent starting at his brother who held his gaze unwavering

“You tellin’ me the truth?” Arackniss nodded never breaking eye contact

“Look I needed to know what he was up to. I didn’t sign nothin’ with that bastard. He brought by stock of it here and told me to ‘distribute it how I want’”

 

“Then why not get rid of  it yourself?”

“Because I’m being watched. I’m already walking a line just telling you this.” Arackniss took a step forward. “You’re the only one who can get in and out without setting off alarms. He’s still using the blood lock shit. I’ll make sure the security loop’s down for one hour. And.” Arackniss hesitated “because… I trust you more than anyone else in this shithole."

 

Angel paused. Something sick twisted in his stomach.

“You ever think maybe I don’t wanna be your fuckin’ hero?”

“Course.” Arackniss acknowledged. “But I think you wanna protect Molly. I think you know how dangerous pops is. And this is how we stop this”

They stared at each other again. Older now. Angrier. But underneath it—under the masks and the damage—there was still something human.

 

Angel said nothing. He tossed back the rest of his drink, wincing.

“Fine,” he said, voice low. “I’ll talk to princess bout it. Ain't promisin' nothin' more that that. But when this backfires—and it will—I’m putting your name first on the list.”

Arackniss gave a ghost of a smile. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Angel turned away, walking to the wide windows. The Pride Ring stretched out below them, glowing with sin and neon lies. Somewhere down there, the poison was spreading.

And eventually, he’d set fire to it.

 

Notes:

Would u trust Arackniss? Why or Why not?

Also whoever can figure out how Arackniss came up with the name Cain Goron gets a cookie.

Chapter 51: A Hundred Year Silence

Summary:

Where my bitches with Mommy issues at? 🥰

Notes:

This one might make people cry…

 

- flashback. Heaven. January 21, 2020 -

Molly had been visiting her mother every day since arriving in Heaven. It was a ritual—a fragile comfort she clung to amid the too-bright, too-quiet perfection of this place. No matter how much Heaven tried to smooth out her edges, Molly refused to let go of the one piece of home she had left.

Today was supposed to be no different. As she approached their usual bench under the blooming tree, Molly called out, her voice softer than usual.

“Mamma?”

 

The woman sitting there turned around, her eyes soft but blank. Molly’s heart gave a painful jolt as her mother looked her up and down with mild curiosity.

“Do I know you?” she asked, in flawless, accentless English.

 

Molly froze, her mouth going dry.

“What?” she whispered.

 

The woman smiled gently, tilting her head.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

 

Molly’s stomach twisted.

“No… no, that’s not right. Mamma, it’s me—Molly! Your daughter!”

 

The woman’s expression softened, but not in the way Molly needed. It was the look you’d give a lost child—a stranger.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice sweet and calm. “I don’t… I don’t remember you.”

 

Molly took a step back, her breath catching.

“No. You… you have to remember. You called me ‘ bambolina ’ and used to scold me for cursing and—” Molly’s voice broke, and she gripped the bench for support.

“Why are you speaking English?”

 

The woman’s smile stayed fixed, patient.

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s the only language I know.”

 

Molly’s vision blurred. Her mother used to refuse to speak English, even when it caused trouble. It was her one rebellion, her way of keeping something sacred and untouchable. To hear her mother speak English now—fluent and unbothered—felt like a slap to the face.

 

“You don’t… you don’t speak Italian anymore?” Molly managed to choke out.

 

The woman’s face remained gentle, almost serene.

“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t understand.”

 

Molly’s shoulders trembled. She forced herself to stay rooted, even as she felt the urge to run—away from this place, away from this twisted parody of her mother.

”Are you alright? Do you need me to call for someone?” 

“I wish I had seen a fucking ghost,” Molly muttered, before turning on her heel and fleeing.

 

⸻

 

Emily was tending to a garden bed when Molly flew barreling toward her, nearly knocking her off balance.

“Molly!” Emily yelped, steadying herself.

“Mamma doesn’t remember me!” Molly’s voice was high and tight, almost breaking.

Emily blinked, frowning.

“What? What do you mean?”

 

“She looked at me like I was some stranger! And she doesn’t even speak Italian anymore! She used to hate English— refused to learn it because of him. She was proud of it, Em. It was her one thing he couldn’t ruin.”

 

Emily’s expression changed—something cold and resigned flickered through her eyes.

“Molly… do you know what day it is?”

 

Molly glared at her, confusion mixing with hurt.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“It’s January 21st,” Emily said quietly.

Molly frowned.

“So?”

 

Emily hesitated, then reached out to place a hand on Molly’s shoulder.

“It’s been a hundred years since your mother died.”

 

Molly shook her head, a pit forming in her stomach.

“That… that doesn’t make sense. Why would that matter?”

 

Emily took a deep breath.

“Heaven resets souls after a century. It’s supposed to help them let go of any lingering burdens—to keep them content.”

 

Molly just stared at her, the words not computing.

“Reset? What the hell does that mean?”

 

“They… take away memories. Anything that might cause sadness or regret. Sometimes language, if it’s tied to past pain. Your mom… they must have thought keeping Italian would remind her of… him.”

 

Molly’s face twisted, anger bubbling up beneath the hurt.

“So they just decided she’d be better off without knowing who she is? Who her own daughter is?”

 

Emily swallowed, looking down.

“They think it’s kinder that way.”

 

“Kinder?” Molly whispered, voice cracking.

“Kinder to just… erase her? Wipe out her whole life and leave this—this hollow version of her?”

 

Emily tried to reach for her, but Molly stepped back, shaking her head.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I didn’t know it would happen to her. I hoped… I hoped she’d be one of the ones who kept her memories. I’m so sorry, Molly.”

 

Molly bit her lip, trying to hold back the sob clawing its way out.

“I just… I thought she was safe. I thought I could keep visiting and it would be the same. That maybe she’d still be herself even in this place.”

 

Emily reached out again, this time letting her hand hover just over Molly’s. Molly pulled away her hand shaking

“I know. I’m sorry.” Emily tried

 

⸻

 

Molly forced herself to go back. She couldn’t leave things like that—not with her mother, not when it hurt this much. When she returned, Maria was still there, humming softly to herself.

 

“Mamma?” Molly whispered, voice small.

 

The woman looked up and smiled like she’d never seen her before.

“Hello again,” she said brightly.

Molly hesitated.

“You don’t… remember me?”

 

The woman’s brow creased, but her smile didn’t falter.

“I know you’re important somehow. But… no. I’m sorry.”

 

A painful silence stretched between them.

“Do you even remember your name?” Molly asked, barely keeping her voice steady.

 

The woman shook her head, almost like a child admitting a small mistake.

“No… but it’s alright. I feel like I’m… supposed to be happy. And I am. I think.”

 

Molly swallowed back her anger, her frustration.

“It’s Maria. Maria Rag- I mean Maria Nicchi,” she said finally, forcing herself to say it gently.

The woman’s eyes brightened.

“Maria… Maria Nicchi that sounds lovely. Thank you.”

Molly nodded stiffly. If they took away her memories of him, there was no reason for her to live here stuck with his name.

She couldn’t stay any longer. As she walked away, she wiped her eyes roughly, breath hitching.

—-

 

Emily found her hours later curled on one of the park benches, her face and dress streaked with tears.

“They took her from me. Heaven took her and left me with a stranger who just… smiles like everything’s fine.” Mollys voice was hollow and hoarse from crying.

Emily approached from behind, quiet and cautious.

“Molly—”

“Don’t,” Molly whispered, her voice raw.

Emily hesitated, but stayed silent.

 

And Not for the first time since arriving in Heaven, Molly wondered if it was really the paradise everyone claimed it to be.

Notes:

Yes theoretically Alastors mother wouldn’t remember him either 👹

Chapter 52: Bloodlines

Summary:

heist time!

Notes:

I'M BACK! 👹 sorry shit got chaotic between my moms wedding and other personal stuff lol. BUT I WILL FINISH THIS FUCKING STORY!

 

The hotel parlor was dim, lit only by the glow of a floor lamp and the faint flicker of neon through the blinds. Tension coiled in the room like smoke.

Charlie sat stiffly on the couch beside Vaggie, Molly, and Emily. Across from her, Angel paced in tight circles, arms folded and jaw clenched. Husk stood at his usual place at the bar, Alastor creepily lurked in the shadows, and Niffty? Well she was hunting for bugs, occasionally letting out screeches of joy as she killed one. 

"So," Angel began, voice flat, "turns out my big brother ain’t just loungin’ in his casino twiddlin’ his thumbs. He found out Pops is trying to run H-8. again. Through the casino. His casino." Angel didn’t miss how Husk grimaced at that statement and shot his boyfriend and apologetic look.

A beat passed. The room was silent.

"H-8?" Charlie echoed, confused. “What’s that?I’ve never heard of it."

"You wouldn’t have," Angel said, stopping. He looked around. "None of you would. It's not some street-level junk. It’s... worse."

Alastor tilted his head, curious. "Do go on. Sounds fascinating."

Angel exhaled sharply and rubbed his face. "It’s a synthetic. Pops and some sinner made it years ago—engineered it together. H-8 doesn’t just mess you up. It changes you. Twists your body, your head. Addictive like hellfire, and twice as cruel. You take it once, and it hooks into you like a parasite. H-8 ain’t just a drug. It’s a weapon. Pops cooked it to control, to break."

The group absorbed that in stunned silence.

Emily blinked. “That sounds... awful.”

"It is," Angel muttered. "Me and Arackniss—we found out what he was doing back then. We actually worked together—just once—to blow the whole damn stockpile up. I thought that was the end of it."

"You and Arackniss?" Husk raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think you two could be in a room together without throwing punches."

Angel gave a bitter laugh. “We hated each other. Still do. But H-8 scared both of us. He knew what it could do to the Rings if it spread. And I—" he hesitated, voice tightening, “—I knew what it did to people."

Charlie leaned forward slightly, voice soft. “You’ve seen it firsthand?”

Angel nodded. “Yeah. I watched it turn demons inside out. I watched it make addicts beg for more, even when it was killing them. We thought we destroyed everything. But Pops must’ve kept the recipe—or found a way to make more.”

He glanced at the others, eyes hard. “And now he’s got a new chemist. Someone named Baxter. Arackniss tipped me off. Says there’s a vault two floors below the casino. That’s where it’s being kept.”

Vaggie crossed her arms. “And you believe him?”

“I don’t trust him. But I believe him. That bastard only lies when it benefits him. And right now? He’s scared. Real scared.”

Alastor’s grin had faded into something more thoughtful. “Well, now I’m truly intrigued. A family affair with lethal consequences. How dramatic.”

Angel ignored him. “If we get to that vault and take the supply, we can stop this before it spreads. But it’s gotta be all of it. If even a drop gets out, we’re back at square one.”

Charlie nodded slowly. “Then we hit it hard and fast.”

“Exactly,” Angel said. “We go in together. We don’t stop. And we don’t split up—unless we have to.”

“I aint going.” Husk said stoicly. Angel could see the pain in his eyes. Husk didn’t want to return to the place he had once called his.

Alastor chuckled. "Why, you are, dear Husk. You’re going along. I insist. I do believe this will be... entertaining."

"The hell I am!" Husk shot up.

"You are. That is an order.” Alastor said, voice suddenly firm. His eyes glowing intensely.

Husk groaned. "Fine." He growled.

---

Two days later the team gathered on the outskirts of the Tempest. The casino towered ahead, a gaudy monolith of gold and black. It pulsed with false promises.

Angel adjusted the collar of his coat and turned to the group. “We move quick. In, out, no detours. Got it?”

Molly stepped close to Emily, her voice low. “When we get inside, I might act different. Just... ignore it. It's all bravado. Doesn’t mean anything.”

Emily nodded. “Okay.”

The casino doors opened with a hiss. Music, laughter, perfume, smoke. Velvet drapes and chandelier light cast shifting shadows across marble floors.

They fanned out, weaving through the crowd. Molly lingered near Emily, eyes scanning. It had been years since she’d stepped foot in a place like this.

Then a wave of loud, laughing patrons blocked their path.

“Shit,” Angel muttered. “We need a distraction. Gotta get towards those employee doors without attracting attention. And given I haven’t been goggled or groped yet, for once I’m guessing this ain't my crowd.”

Molly stepped forward without hesitation. “Got it.”

Without missing a beat, Molly let out a breathy giggle, tugged her dress lower, and stumbled forward, crashing dramatically into one of them.

"Oops! Oh my gosh, I’m sooo sorry," she cooed, slurring her words, pressing against him with faux affection. Her fingers dipped discreetly into the pocket of a nearby staff member.

She came away with a sleek access card, spinning on her heel and tossing it to Angel.

"Youse boys wanna win big tonight? Gimme your dice—I’ll kiss ‘em for luck!"

The crowd erupted in laughter and catcalls. Molly played the ditzy broad perfectly, drawing all eyes.

Husk stared, blinking. "Where the hell’d she learn to pull that off?"

Angel shrugged, swiping the access card through a scanner. "Who’d you think I learned the basics from? We gotta move. Don't think they'll stay distracted for too long." He locked around for something to keep the door cracked for Molly, Niffty startled him as she sprung up holding a good sized rock, giggling.
“thanks Niff” he said as he propped the door open slightly.

 

While the group made their way through the employee corridors, Molly continued her charade.

She giggled, stumbling into the loudest of the group. “Ooopsie, my bad fellas~ Four legs and still no balance. All they do is spread and slip open on me.”

The demon caught her, grinning wide. “No worries, sweetheart. You’re a whole lotta woman to catch.”

She leaned into him, purring. “Mmm, strong hands~ I like that. Got a name, sugar?”

Another patron laughed. “Hey, you kinda look like that Angel Dust.”

Molly blinked, playing innocent. “Huh?”

“The porn star.”

She gasped. “Ooh, naughty! Maybe we watch him later, learn a trick or two~”

Laughter. Distraction.

Molly lingered in the crowd a moment longer, keeping their attention. She hated the way this made her feel.

When she finally met up with the group, her smile was gone. Lipstick smeared, shoulders tight. Her dress was torn at the collar.
"Molly?" Emily asked softly, concerned and still more than a little surprised.

She wiped her arms like scrubbing off filth. “If one more guy calls me ‘sweetheart,’ I swear to fuck-.” she grumbled.

Emily stared at her. “That wasn’t you.”

“Nope,” Molly said flatly not meeting her eyes. “It was someone I used to be.”

Emily nodded, her mind racing. 

Behind the casino, the halls were cold and sterile. Machinery hummed. Shadows danced.

They reached the vault.

It stood like a tomb—steel and etched with infernal runes.

"Well," Angel said as he raised a hand, bit his thumb, and pressed his bloody fingerprint to the scanner.

"Let’s hope this works. ‘Niss claimed it’s still keyed to me."

The scanner blinked.

Red.

Black.

Then green.

With a hiss, the vault opened.

Rows of crates. Shelves of vials. Iridescent and glowing.

Angel stared, chest tight.

“We need to get this shit outta here. Fast.”

Molly and Emily moved first. Molly cracked open a crate. “Don’t shake them. No idea how volatile this stuff is.” Angel warned.

Emily nodded, carefully pulling out vials and passing them to her.

Angel and Husk tore into crates. Alastor hummed.

Niffty zipped forward. “Oooh! Pretty! Should I organize them by shape?”

“Niffty, no!” Charlie snapped.

Vaggie yanked her back. “Don’t touch anything unless someone says so.”

Each minute stretched thin, taut with focus—and then, suddenly, the hour was over. They had the cases filled.

Then—a siren.

Red lights.

“Time’s up!” Angel shouted.

They ran.

Security doors slammed. A crash rocked the corridor.

“Split up!” Charlie shouted. “Regroup outside!”

Angel, Husk, Alastor, and Niffty veered left.

Charlie, Vaggie, Molly, and Emily turned right—and hit a sealed blast door.

“No no no,” Vaggie growled, slamming it.

Emily pointed. “There! there’s a keypad.”

Charlie ran to it. Locked.

Molly stepped forward. “Move.”

The panel glowed red. Blood-coded.

“Shit,” Molly muttered. “Tony didn’t mention this one.”

Emily looked at her. “You know the code?”

“It doesn’t take a code,” Molly said. “It takes blood.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Wait, then—we’re stuck.”

Molly gave her a look, expression guarded. “Not necessarily.”

“But…” Emily hesitated, voice soft but rising in alarm, “Molly, your blood—it’s not demon blood. It won’t work.”

Molly stared at the panel, then slowly opened her palm and bit down—sharp and deliberate.

Emily stepped forward, trying to stop her. “But you’re an angel—”

Molly pressed her bleeding hand to the scanner, golden blood gleaming like liquid sunlight.

The reader blinked green. Click. The lock disengaged.

Emily’s mouth parted in disbelief.

Molly looked over her shoulder, voice cool but raw around the edges. “…Yeah,” she said. “I’m an angel.”

A pause. Then she turned away, pulling the emergency hatch open with effort.

“But I’m also a Ragno.”

Emily stood frozen, stunned as the reality hit her—not just of Molly’s lineage, but what it meant.

Bloodlines remained tied—angelic or demonic.”

The sirens dulled. Cold air rushed in.

Molly grabbed Emily’s hand. “We can talk later. We go now.”

Charlie and Vaggie followed.

And just like that, the heist was over.

Notes:

thoughts? feelings? reactions?

Chapter 53: Through the broken lens

Summary:

Henroin schemes

Notes:

Still writing this fic rahhh. Sorry for long time no update. Too busy winning cosplay awards 🤭. Real note tho hoping to have more time to write this now that the competition and con is over haha

---

Henroin’s many eyes fixed on the wall of flickering monitors, the hacked feeds stuttering as they spilled the casino’s secrets back to him. The glow painted his chitinous face in fractured light, mandibles twitching as if savoring the sight. To him, the glittering palace of sin resembled a glass tank—his children, his blood, and their tag-along strays swimming like trapped insects beneath his gaze.

On one feed, Angel was barking orders, dragging crates. On another, Molly pressed her hand against a scanner, the glow of her blood unlocking what should have been impossible. Henroin leaned closer, the stinger coiled behind his shoulder arching in lazy interest. A slow grin spread across his face, too wide, teeth catching the light as he exhaled cigar smoke in a wreath around his crown.

 

“Well, well…” he rasped, voice caught between silk and venom. “Nico, Molly, Angel… and their ragtag pets. How very industrious.”

 

Behind him, Baxter fidgeted with his clipboard, the low hum of machinery and bubbling vats filling the silence. Finally, the angler fish cleared his throat.

 

“Henroin, sir?”

 

“What?” Henroin snapped, not bothering to turn his head.

 

Baxter flinched but pressed on. “Forgive me for overstepping, but… when are you sending men to deal with Arackniss?”

 

Henroin exhaled, blowing a thick plume of smoke directly into Baxter’s face. The scientist coughed, his gills flaring.

 

“I’m not.”

 

“But sir—”

 

“Are you questioning me?” Henroin’s voice thundered through the chamber, rattling glass and vibrating the vats around them.

 

Baxter’s eyes went wide, head shaking violently. “N-no, of course not!”

 

“That’s what I thought.” Henroin leaned back into his chair, ash from his cigar tumbling onto the floor. “Let him think he’s won. Let him believe he’s outsmarted me. Nico has made his choice. He’s chosen his side. But why should I spoil the game by showing my hand so early?”

 

Baxter swallowed, his sharp teeth glinting nervously. “But… the vials, sir. How do you plan to recover them?”

 

Henroin chuckled, a deep, rolling sound that seemed to carry centuries of cruelty. “My dear Baxter. Do you really think I’d entrust the final product to a man too cowardly to sign his soul away? Do you think I’ve forgotten what happened all those years ago? Arackniss betrayed his only ally, his friend, simply to avoid me. That sort of cowardice, that weakness earns nothing but contempt. No matter what facade I may portray.” 

 

He leaned forward, eyes glowing faintly, predator’s gleam in their depths. “No. Those were test vials. Potent, yes. Dangerous, certainly. But they’re a fraction of what you’ve truly created for me.”

 

Baxter’s expression shifted—uneasy pride flashing through his nervous features. His bioluminescent lure flickered with excitement. “Indeed. The perfected strain is… unmatched. But sir, if you don’t intend to retrieve the test vials, and you refuse to punish Arackniss…” His voice wavered. “…what is your next step?”

 

Henroin’s grin grew wolfish. He ground his cigar into a gold-plated ashtray, the embers hissing like serpents.

 

“Simple, my dear Baxter. We won’t chase them.” His voice dropped low, conspiratorial. “We’ll invite them  closer.”

 

Baxter tilted his head, confused. “I don’t—”

 

Henroin’s claws tapped against the armrest of his chair, deliberate and sharp. “Baxter… it’s time for you to become a resident of that pathetic little pet project of the princess. What does she call it again?”

 

He paused, savoring the word like a joke only he understood.

 

“Ah yes. Hazbin Hotel. ”

 

The angler fish froze, his lure flickering. For the first time since the conversation began, fear cracked through his composure. “You… want me to infiltrate them?”

 

Henroin’s grin widened into something monstrous.

 

“I want you to corrupt them.”

Notes:

I have little to no info on Baxter and his personality. Hopefully he’s not too OOC 😅

Chapter 54: The Villain in Your History

Summary:

Flashbacks from the point of view of one Nico Ragno.

Flashback ---- Fall 1928. Nico age 21, the twins age 16. 

The morning Nico first heard Lorenzo Scavo speak his sister’s name, he thought the man was mad with drunkeness.

It was early—respectable businesses were just switching their signs to open—and the streetlamps on Mulberry threw weak, jaundiced light onto the sidewalk. Nico was coming back from a delivery when he spotted him: Lorenzo, leaning against the butcher’s shop like he owned it, hat tipped low, cigar dangling from his mouth.

Everyone in Brooklyn knew the name Crazy Eyes Scavo. They called him that for a reason. He had a reputation for grinning too wide and snapping without warning—beating men half to death one day and buying them a drink the next. You didn’t look him too long in the eye. You didn’t say no.

So when he straightened at Nico’s approach and said, “Fratello,” Nico only scoffed.

“You’ve had one too many,” Nico muttered, trying to brush past.

But Lorenzo’s laugh followed him, loud and cutting. “Not drunk, fratello. Celebratin’. Family business, eh? Your papa and I—we made an arrangement last night.”

Nico slowed. Against his better judgment, he turned. “What arrangement?”

Lorenzo’s grin spread, flashing his gold tooth in the dim light. His eyes darted, twitching from the lamppost to Nico’s face. “Your sister. Molly.” He said her name like he was rolling it across his tongue. “She’s mine. Enrico promised. Soon as she’s of age, she’ll be my wife.”

The world tilted.

Nico’s heart stuttered, then roared in his ears. He stared, unblinking, certain this had to be drunken rambling, a sick joke. “The hell you talkin’ about?” he snapped, though his throat felt dry, raw.

But Lorenzo only leaned closer, lowering his voice like sharing a secret. “Two April's from now. Your papa already agreed. The Ragno girl, married into Scavo blood. Stronger families, stronger business. He gets access to my families boats, I get the pretty little lady. A perfect match, eh, fratello?”

The word burned like acid.

Nico’s fists curled so tight he felt his nails cut the skin of his palms. His mouth opened, but no words came—just a harsh, shallow rasp.

“You lay a hand on her,” he finally forced out, voice breaking, “before a goddamn priest says otherwise, I’ll gut you.”

Lorenzo laughed. Too loud. Too bright. The sound of a man who enjoyed being feared. He clapped Nico on the shoulder like a pal. “Spirited! I like that. You’re just like your old man—he said you’d understand business comes first.”

“Don’t you ever compare me to him,” Nico spat, his voice shaking with rage.

But Lorenzo only winked. “I'll see you at the wedding, fratello.”

Then he disappeared into the butcher’s shop, whistling a tune, leaving Nico alone on the darkened street.

Nico stood frozen, his whole body trembling. He felt sick. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to scream. His skin crawled, every nerve alight with helpless fury.

He’s lyin’. He’s gotta be lyin’. 

But in his gut, Nico knew. Lorenzo wasn’t lying. He wasn’t joking. His father had bartered Molly like property. Like livestock.

Molly was going to be married off to that creepy bastard. It was time. They had to get out now.

---

Back in the house, Nico dropped to his knees beside the bed. 

He quickly pried up the floorboard and reached his hand In to find…

 

Nothing.

 

He laid down flat on the floor desperately trying to reach for the emergency funds. His fingers clawed through splinters and dust, scraping desperately for the tin. Empty.

A shadow fell over him.

“Lookin’ for this?” A deep voice asked. Nico froze. He turned to see his father holding the emergency fund can. He said nothing, his voice caught in his throat.

“Answer the question boy.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir. Thats what I was lookin’ for.” Nico admitted. Enrico feigned interest in inspecting the can

“Want to tell me why this was under your floorboard?” Nico's voice caught in his throat unable to speak.

"I-"

“You think I’m stupid boy?”

“N-no-no sir.”

“Think I wouldn’t notice your earnings had dropped?" Enrico roared as he raised a hand preparing to strike his eldest

Think! Nico thought desperately Protect the twins. Take the fall.

“It’s to buy you a car papa!” he blurted out. Enrico’s hand lowered slowly as he stared at his son

“I was saving up to buy you a car. One of them model T’s.” Enrico stared at his son clearly unconvinced. Nico fought the urge to bolt. After what felt like an eternal silence Enrico’s hummed, clearly having thought of an idea.

“If thats so. Then you wont mind goin’ to do that today will you?” Nico's heart dropped.

“No sir.”

“Then get goin’.” Nico nodded and took the offered can from him. He turned to grab his coat when Enrico spoke again.

“Oh. And Nicholas. You know what will happen if you try and run from this.”

“You’ll off me.” Nico said his voice monotone. Enrico chuckled making the hairs on the back of Nico’s neck stand up

“No. You’re useful. But if you try to pull any stunts—now or ever—you’ll never see the twins alive again” Enrico said calmly. The can shook in Nico’s hand

“Understood sir.”

“Good. Now get going. I expect to see that car by sundown.” Nico nodded and sped towards the door.

Nico could feel the weight of the tin in his hand, burning like a brand. The coins weren’t his, not really. Every penny was for escape, for safety, for a plan they couldn’t yet act on. But if he hesitated, if he faltered, the twins would pay.

---

Later that afternoon,

The Model T rattled beneath Nico’s hands as he drove away from the house, leaving Tony and Molly—and their shocked, angry faces—behind. The engine roared, a constant reminder of the lie he had spun, and he gripped the wheel tighter than necessary. His hands gripped the wheel tighter than necessary. It’s only a car. Only a lie. They don’t know yet. They’ll hate me, but they’ll live. They’ll get out. They’ll survive. That’s all that matters.

“Good. Maybe ya shouldn’t believe in me so much.” The words he had spat at them hung in his mind, sharp and cruel. But they had been necessary. He replayed the driveway scene over and over, dissecting every glance, every gasp, every flash of hurt in their eyes.

If Tony and Molly hated him for spending the tin, for buying the car, if they saw cruelty where there was only desperate protection—so be it.

He would be the villain in their story. He would wear the mask, take the blame, and bear the anger, so they could keep dreaming, so they could survive.

Nico thought of Lorenzo’s grin, of the way Enrico had traded Molly’s future as casually as moving furniture. If the twins had known the truth—if they’d seen that Molly’s life had already been bartered—they wouldn’t have forgiven him. They might have tried to fight back, to intervene. And they’d be dead before Nico could blink.

Better to have them hate him for a lie, for a selfish act, than to let them see the horrors their father had set in motion.

Hours later, Nico stumbled into a run-down boarding house, tossing a nickel onto the counter for the washroom. Nico’s hands clenched the porcelain of the sink. He turned the water on and repeatedly splashed cold water on his face to hide the tears. He stared into his reflection in the mirror. But it wasn’t him who locked back.

In his eyes he saw his father.

Unlike Tony and Molly who had inherited their mother’s facial features, Nico had always taken after Enrico. Now a grown man, he was practically a carbon copy of his father. His breathing became rapid. In a moment of rage he punched the mirror shattering it across the bathroom.

“Fuck!” He cursed loudly as the glass lacerated he knuckles and hand. He fell back against the wall, no longer fighting back the tears that steamed down his face as his breathing became more erratic.

“Guarda te, Nico. Sei già un bravo fratello maggiore.” His mother’s voice haunted him in the cracked silence. Look at you, Nico. Such a good big brother already.

"I’m sorry, Mamma," he whispered hoarsely. "I’m so, so sorry."

He wrapped his bleeding hand in his jacket and shirt, leaning back against the cold tiles, trying to slow the bleeding. They hate me now. They think I’m cruel, selfish. Maybe even heartless. And that’s fine. If it keeps them alive.

Nico’s mind returned to the driveway again: Tony shouting, Molly trembling, their shared dreams crushed under the weight of his lie. “You don’t get it. People like us don’t get to dream. You deal with whatcha got.” That had been the truth. A truth wrapped in cruelty. I can’t let them hope for an easy escape. If they hope, they might act recklessly. They might die.

He thought of Lorenzo’s grin, the way Enrico had traded Molly’s future with the casualness of moving furniture. The twins could never know, not yet. If they did, they’d fight, they’d resist—and they’d die before he could save them.

The tin, the car, the Model T—everything was a lie. Everything was a shield. Every cruel word, every harsh glance, every act of betrayal was a mask he wore to protect them.

He pressed his forehead to his knees, ignoring the sting of the shattered mirror and the warmth of blood on his skin. Whispering again to his mother’s memory, he made his vow:

“I’m tryin’, Mamma. I’m tryin’ to keep ’em safe. I swear I am.”

The villain in their story, yes. But the only one who could keep them alive.

Notes:

:) so do yall still hate Nico?