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hey fyi that person posting gore in the rpc tags is back under @/fakeloverpc.

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Send a ❦ if you'd consider shipping our muses.

bonus if you add a type of ship you’d like them to be or a thread idea for our muses.

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Here is my art request giveaway for @ WhiteSkara (on twitter) ! They requested RadioDust "sewing together" and my mind kind of traveled to this sort of concept. Maybe angel can make silk that repairs objects?

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When Angel finally becomes an Overlord, he's gonna put Val in his place and steal his man. What now, moth daddy?

Also, overlord Angel is ready to fight or woo, Al. His choice.

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Reblog if you are willing to do toxic ships

Not every love is sweet and kind Sometimes, love is dangerous Poisonous, addictive, obsessive Leaving emotional, mental and physical scars Don’t want to walk away, refuse to let go To need, no matter how much it hurts To know the same pain is returned Because some don’t want just the sweet They crave the bitter too

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Nightmare drabbled @arcanepactguile

「🕸️One of the people he missed most from his life was his twin sister. She had been a light in the darkness when the world made him feel so small. His family, outside a few members, often wished he were more like Alfonso (Arakniss). His brother never experienced verbal courage, demanding that he man up, among other verbal accusations he became accustomed to. Alcohol had become his best friend. A surefire remedy for the darkness accumulating within his psyche. A vice he visited frequently. He had tried to appease his grandfather and father by dating a dame or two, but it never worked out. And one of them had been hysterical during their breakup, gifting him a harsh slap before her departure.

A few of the men chuckled at the scene, but Molly had tugged him inside with a purpose. She gave him some ice for the inflammation and made sure he was alright. But his grandfather had interrupted their moment, claiming he was fine and to walk it off. And Anthony had played the role assigned. He pretended it was no big deal and that the dame was just a crazy bitch. Days later, he had heard someone had destroyed half her wardrobe with a knife. Molly never admitted to the deed, but her tone practically claimed it was her. In fact, she was always looking out for him. And he had to keep reminding her that it was his job. But she never listened.

These memories occasionally intruded like an unwelcome guest. It's not that he wanted to forget her, but he hated the feeling of missing her. Yet, there was relief in realizing she escaped this hellhole. She resided in Heaven. And even though he thought the princess's whole redemption scheme was nuts! The thought of seeing his sister again, even unspoken, was an incentive for his residence at the hotel. Aside from the free room and the chance to create some separation from Valentino. The bastard that owned his soul. The scummy moth that promised him everything, whilst also taking it.

But a new factor came into play. Since his arrival here, he had taken an interest in the Radio Demon. Shallow reasons, firstly, since the man was attractive. But the guy was fancy and had class. He oozed sophistication. The infatuation was instant. However, he already knew of the demon. He had tuned in to his station and listened to whatever he spouted. And he did like jazz. But at one point, his grandfather tried to order him to spy on him. He never admitted it, but the old bastard was terrified of Alastor. Sure, his grandfather was beneath Carmila, but still ranked as an overlord, nonetheless. Back then, Angel had half a mind to do as told, but instead of spying, convince the demon to off his gramps. And he might of if Valentino hadn't wooed him away first.

Although once he had gone to a place he had heard Alastor regularly visited. But no one had fit the image in his mind. He knew what he sounded like, but not his appearance. Everyone said he was handsome, but none of the chumps that wandered in even sparked that sort of thought. Call him a narcissist or whatever, but he himself was the only attractive one there. Even before Val made him a hellhole name, men occasionally still hit on him. And he had multiple do so that night. Would the Radio Demon have done that? Flirted with him? But none of the guys had been appealing. Even if he considered the job. Really considered it, he barely had any information to go off of. He sighed and called it a night.

Maybe it was cliche that on his way out, he just so happened to bump into someone finally handsome. There was a musk about him, mixed with the faint scent of blood. He wore a smile like an additional accessory. Only a few words were exchanged before he had to split. But it made sense why he had such an instant attraction to the Radio Demon. After all, he had had it long ago before he even realized who he was. And now, he wanted to learn about him. What did he like? Was he gay? Straight? Something else? What were his hobbies? Would he even talk to him? Did he know about his porn movies? Did he even like porn? These questions caused him to often trail the demon. He found stupid reasons to pester him. Invited him for drinks at the bar. And shamelessly flirted with him. And the mask he wore made it far easier.

He wants to see me? The spider had practically jumped out of his skin when Alastor, whom he had been addressing as Smiles, requested his company. Whether he needed to or not, he dolled himself up. A dress that showed off his greatest asset: his chest fluff. Heels that weren't too high. A hint of makeup and a good luck bracelet with butterflies and spiders. But he had to calm down. Not like it was a date or anything. The nerves kicked in as he made his way there. Fuck, was he overdressed? Should he have dressed normally? Less makeup? No makeup? But it didn't seem to matter. Alastor welcomed him and even politely kissed one of his hands. They enjoyed a few drinks, some dancing, and talking. But the talking...Alastor had called him out on following him.

Was he angry? The tendrils Al controlled held all four of his exposed arms behind his back. Was this an interrogation? He knew what these were like. After all, in life, he had performed them on occasion. Was he taking an eye? A limb? Gonna smack him around? Although the latter was something he was well acquainted with, it was the torture he expected most. And even though he stood taller than the demon, he felt so small in his predicament. Accusation after accusation announced. The sound of the staff rhythmically against the floor as the demon approached made his chest ache. Two sharp claws forcefully tugging his chin downwards to demand his attention made his breath hitch. This was it...This was...a kiss? His confusion and even outbursts seemed to entertain the demon. He had it all wrong. Alastor wasn't angry with him, but interested in his little game. A game that went on for weeks before it transitioned to something more physical. It was unfair how hard the demon was making him fall. And it scared him...the last time he was in love, or thought he was, his heart had been taken, beaten, falsely healed for the cycle to repeat. He had yet to tell him about Molly. About anyone from his life. He considered it, but how much could he trust him with? How did he know he wouldn't use any of it against him?

One after the other, the lights spring to life, emitting their glow upon the spider. The routine performance commenced. Various acts of depravity featured in each scene. Sweat stained the abused sheets with hints of blood soaked deep into the particles. Blissful sounds resonated, eagerly captured for an underserving audience. Percieved no different from the occasional, hollow, desperate plea to end the rounds of filthy trash he breathed the stench of with little distance between them. Their essence decorating his white fluff till he felt numb. Over and over and over and over and over and over until the final light dimmed and the words, 'good boy', echoed like a broken record in his head.

He held fault in this repetitive performance. Only smiling, staying silent, and dabbing the excess with a damp, overused towel. The only relief he found was his mind falling blank and knowing Molly would never experience or witness this. If she were here, he'd do anything to protect her. But he knew she'd do the same, and that terrified him.

❝ I'm done, Val, I- ❞ The towel drifted towards the floor as the spider found himself frozen in place. Was this a hallucination? A sick prank, despite Val having no way of knowing? But even after closing his eyes, she still remained clutched in his arms. Val had his slimy hands around her waist like prey trapped in a web. She was already dressed in one of Velvette's slutty numbers. But how? As he approached, Val chuckled and explained how delighted he was to have the full set. Two twins would rack up the dough. This bastard was gonna include his sister in this bullshit?! No! No fucking way was anyone touching her! But as he moved towards them, the distance grew wider. As he ran, the chuckling echoed louder and louder. He watched them turn away. Watched as his depraved boss led her to a room. And when he finally got close, the door slammed, leaving him in the darkness.

❝ Molly!!! ❞ He could hear her scream. Hear the voices behind the door, but the fdamn thing wouldn't open. Wouldn't fall from the hinges. He banged and banged and banged, ❝ Molly!!! ❞, until he finally woke up in a cold sweat. Unknown tears stung his eyes as he jolted. His heart palpitated and his breath hitched as he clutched his chest. His eyes darted around, all eight in a panic as he took in his surroundings. The hotel? His room? But where was Molly?! The realization that it was a mere nightmare never dawned on him. He tripped as he got out of bed. Nuggets' oinks fell on deaf ears as he stumbled out of the room. Frantically, he descended the hall. The stairs his goal. However, he was startled by someone right around the corner. Al?!

He stood there, briefly, staring him down until his face slightly contorted as he fought back the next onslaught of tears. ❝ They got her! They fuckin' got her, Al! I gotta hurry! They're fuckin' hurtin' her! ❞ He was surprised that Al had stopped him. ❝ The fuck are ya doin'? Move! ❞ He demanded. Though the demon wasn't relenting as he continued to stand in his way. ❝ Get the fuck out 'f my way! ❞ The tendrils wrapped around his arms, hindering his progress and tugging him against the wall. ❝ Molly!!! ❞ He cried. He felt so small. So helpless, and he hated it. He struggled for a long while until his body and voice practically gave out. When he finally seemed defeated, he felt Al's palm against his cheek.

Everything had been a nightmare. But it had felt so real. Alastor had given him something warm to drink and allowed him to rest his head on his lap once they had settled down in Angel's room. The soft strokes of his hair were calming. Angel didn't want to discuss it, and Al didn't push. Something he appreciated. ❝ Yuh ain't gonna tell no one, right? ❞ His words were reassuring. He sat up, took a brief sip of the beverage then scooted closer to the demon. ❝ Do yuh mind just stayin' here fer a bit? I ain't tryin'na act like a dame, but unless ya got somethin' on ya, I ain't gonna be able ta sleep. ❞ Sure, he could just ask Al to conjure up some alcohol. Maybe even drugs? Or just go down to the bar (even though that risked running into Niffty or Husk at this hour), but he just wanted the demon to stay with him. Al pulled him close, so his head was on his shoulder as he started spouting nonsense about this and that like the radio host he was. And maybe this is just what he needed. 」

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{{ Please reblog this if you’re a mun who’s open for angst plotting. Death, pain, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, illness, misery, fighting, screaming, tears, hate, disgust, trauma, graphic gore, etc; I’m in need of threads. Thank you. }}

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Angel Dust print available via Shark Robot November 7, 2016 and retired on June 19, 2019.

[source] [source 2] [source 3]

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By Lunaticaauri

Had to try it with my cat...(It does indeed work 🤣) 🕷️♥️🐱

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「🕸️ ❝ It's wha' now? ❞ His eyes followed as she darted about. He couldn't care less about this day, but she was starting to make him dizzy. ❝ Calmati! ❞ After asking her to calm down, he sighed.❝ Alright, toots, listen up. If ya wanna do somethin' nice fer daddy, how's 'bout ya stop a sec. If yer lookin' ta make a cake, I'll 'ave ya 'no I'm an expert. He's a freak fer ducks, so how's 'bout makin' a duck shaped one. Ain't too hard. ❞ 」

"Wha-? It's Father's Day and I completely forgot!" She was already rushing around the kitchen,l trying to throw together a decent cake.

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「🕸️ ❝ This a new exercise, doll? 'Cause I fuckin' love it! Bet I could get Nifs ta say it too. Where's she at? ❞ 」

"FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

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@transinistor

「 🕸️After decades of alluring men with his suggestive words, since the chumps often fell for his allure, he considered it one of his many talents. It was practically second nature to him, often done purposefully, yet sometimes it slipped through the cracks like a broken faucet. Not like half the morons he dealt with desired actual conversation with him. Not to mention you had to be careful with that shit. He already had enough stalkers from getting attached to his persona. If they thought he cared? Those bastards would never let go. And, truthfully, not that he'd ever tell someone like Smiles here, but he didn't want to risk getting attached to anyone. Val was lesson enough.

❝ Stewin' in what now? Yuh tryin'na say somethin', Smiles? ❞ His eyes narrow slightly at the Overlord as he sips whatever the hell Husk poured him. Was the stewing an insult? Or a call out? Not that it mattered since his first defense would be literally defensiveness. In life, it wasn't like the fellas talked about their feelings and cried on each other's shoulders. No! You got slapped around and/or told to man the fuck up. Thinking about it, he didn't really want an answer from Al. Speaking of Al, what was his deal? He smiled all the damn time like didn't it hurt? Did he ever frown? Did he know what neutral meant? On the bright side, he had a hell of a poker face. But no one was happy 24/7.

But he'd never figure anything out with how little they spoke. And the spider was curious about the machinations of the Overlord's mind. Half the one's he knew were assholes. Al, if anything, was a smart ass. But he didn't own everyone here. He actually took care of the place. Did he care about them? Why would an Overlord even be interested in helping with redemption anyway? Didn't that mean fewer souls for the picking? Well, first things first. ❝ I got tons 'f ideas fer us, Smiles, but since yer a prude- ❞ He teased. ❝ I was thinkin' we'd waltz on downtown an' take care 'f a lil' business. I get what's owed ta me an', I guess, yuh'd get yer twisted kicks out 'f gettin' a free meal. But ya can't tell, toots. I ain't needin' another lecture from miss goody two shoes 'bout how violence bad...capisce? So ya in or out? ❞ 」

Though  his  grin  remains  unmoved,  his  eyes  held  an  eerie,  unreadable  gleam  that  would  make  anyone  second-guess  whether  he  was  truly  amused  or  simply  too  into  his  act  to  allow  any  genuine  sense  of  emotion  to  shine  through.  The  truth  of  the  matter  was  that  he  didn't  know  anything  about  Angel,  and  what  he  had  seen  at  the  Hotel  thus  far  had  left  a  lot  to  be  desired.  Naturally,  the  idea  that  there  was  more  to  him  than  his  gruesomely  oversexed  persona  was  a  source  of  real  intrigue  for  Alastor.  A  chuckle  followed,  smooth  and  laced  in  static.

❝ Oh,  Angel~  You  do  have  such  a  talent  for  making  the  most  ordinary  phrases  drip  with  suggestion !   But  I  assure  you,  it's  no  big  deal.  It  simply  strikes  me  as...  Interesting,  seeing  you  here,  stewing  in  something  so  out  of  the  ordinary  for  you. ❞  Was  it  loneliness ?  He  couldn't  say  he  was  sure  just  what  was  going  on  underneath  all  the  sex  appeal,  but  the  brief  glimpse  behind  the  curtain  hadn't  gone  unnoticed.  No,  stripped  of  his  usual  flamboyance,  there  was  a  distinct  allure  to  him —  and  perhaps  there  would  be  even  more  so  without  the  glittering  armor  of  innuendo  and  fanfare.

Fascination  was  in  the  way  Angel  sat —  too  stiff  to  be  relaxed,  too  poised  to  be  unintentional.  A  performance  still,  but  entirely the  usual  one.  Alastor  could  recognize  a  mask —  hell,  he  wore  it  one  himself  almost  as  often  and  in  that  sense  they  were  near  perfectly  matched.  His  perpetual  grin  grew  thinner,  less  showman  and  more  specter  as  he  took  a  slow  sip  of  his  drink,  eyes  never  leaving  the  other.  ❝ As  for  your  offer,  go ahead and indulge  me.  What  exactly  would  you  have  in  mind  for  us if we were to walk out of here together  tonight ? ❞

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「🕸️This sort of thing was hardly easy. In life, the men he knew rarely discussed their feelings. You'd get called a pansy or pussy or worse. Often it was easier to just suck it up or tell someone too. Even now, this sort of thing was difficult for him, but Lucifer had done so much that he didn't like seeing him so bummed out. Was the right thing to walk away? It didn't matter because he wasn't going anywhere.

❝ Yeah, I'm callin' bullshit on that. If that shit didn't matter than ya wouldn't be drownin' yerself in cheap booze that makes it look like some bozo took whiteout cross yer face. If ya don't wanna talk 'bout it, ain't gonna make ya. But if ya don't want toots ta see ya like this, then how's 'bout yuh an' me sneak off? I might 'ave a little redemy ta help. ❞ His idea might not be much, but maybe a start to helping the King. 」

He waved it off. His head turning as he downed another shot with a grimace. There was no doubt that Angel Dust was trying to help. Show nothing but kindness to him but he did not want that. He didn't need to hear songs of praise. He couldn't even say anything if he wanted. The thought made bile rise in his throat. His hands even trembled.

"Nothing to talk about." He said honestly. "It doesn't matter." He didn't matter. Even if it was killing him, he could never betray Charlie. If she wanted Lilith there then he would do everything he could to support her. He made that promise.

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「🕸️ That's right. HE had his attention. The dominatrix outfit likely helped. ❝ Ain't that obvious, boxy? But this ain't just fer yuh. ❞ This was for himself, too. He adored letting Vox have the control, but he liked a bit himself. ❝ 'Course I do. I ain't stale like that busted showgirl, Val. ❞ Thank fuck he didn't overhear that. Too bad, though. He wanted Val to see how obsessed he was making Vox. He cracked the whip, pretty excited to be on the giving end this time. BDSM was about trust, pleasure, and the right amount of pain.

❝ Ya ain't gettin' nothin' till ya work that pole fer me. Once ya earn it, yuh can 'ave whateva' ya want, daddy. So, here's a little incentive~ ❞ He wanted to learn more about what he was into. He got an idea that he was into being bossed around. After all, Val and Vel were two bossy bitches. He circled the man and, without any hesitation, used the whip against his rear. ❝ What ya waitin' fer? Ya want me ta hit ya again? ❞ This was controlled. Nothing like what Val did to him. This would be alright. He could comfortably play this role. 」

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「🕸️Was it bad, a small part of him wanted to poke his cheek? Angel, focus. He really knew these nights when you needed a tall glass of whatever to turn off your brain. Although he knew the risks of actually being in that state.

Lilith? Wait?! Charlie’s mom was here?! ❝ Oh, shit…No wonder yer so worked up…❞ He scooted the chair a little closer. ❝ Ya ‘no, Husky’s a good listener. But I can be too, an’ I ain’t chargin’. Yuh can even waddle up ta my room fer a bit of privacy.❞ Despite the innuendo, he just thought less, wondering ears may be nice.」

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Important Blog Update:

Let me start by saying that I know that my presence on Tumblr has been very low, and I'd like to apologize. Truthfully, I've been struggling in this fandom for some time now. I've been feeling a disconnect in the community. Like I'm invisible or just an understudy for other muses, and it hurts. I've also been struggling with duplicate anxiety & stress around Angel Dust, so moving forward, I'll be implementing a new rule:

This blog is now highly selective with following duplicate Angel Dust muses, especially solo accounts for him. This is nothing personal, and while I do adore seeing others cherish the spider we adore, I need to protect my own peace of mind by moving forward with this rule.

This will be reflected in my rules once I can adjust them for both this and my side blog. I appreciate everyone that wants to interact with me, and I'll be trying to come back next week to work on things.

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On for a second to say if any of you write Cherri and want another angel please!!!! I love writing her but would really love to do bestie dynamics together.