#Valentino being a creep about angel

[chaoticace2005]

Why Valentino needs to chill the fuck out (AKA a list of complaints on the pissbaby):

(By Velvette, the only one here with a braincell)

(Her list for Vox (to stop obsessing over Alastor) here)

1. I can’t stop you from being a dick to your employees but STOP RIPPING UP MINE

2. Can you keep your obsession with Angel Dust in the studio? Bringing him up elsewhere makes Vox think he can bitch about Alastor and I don’t need anymore of that.

3. Bringing up the Radio Demon to win an argument just makes everyone suffer.

4. I know therapy is a lost cause with you but seriously?

5. Figure out whatever the fuck you and Vox have going on. You’re not dating but you have Radio Demon- related foreplay and Vox gets jealous whenever you bring up “Angelcakes.”

6. I’ll blow my brains out if I hear the name “Angelcakes” again.

7. I don’t want to keep replacing lights after you run into them head first

8. I don’t want to keep having to spend money buying mothballs so you won’t eat my clothes.

9. When you get pissed you get horny, and I’d prefer if you didn’t fuck anyone on the kitchen counter.

10. Or my closet

11. Can you stop crying about the fact I have (gorgeous) hair and you don’t? Not my fault your head looks like an egg

12. Also weird pheromones? Can you keep that stuff inside you until we need to make more Love Potions? The whole place stinks

13. Your rage bedazzling has begun to get out of hand. I took a shower and rhinestones came out of the tap.

14. STOP FIRING BEDAZZLED (OR ANY) GUN INTO WALLS. AND STOP SAYING ITS FINE BECAUSE YOU LIKE HOLES.

15. Chasing down your employee who is staying with the PRINCESS AND KING of HELL isn’t the best idea.

16. Also, again, Radio Demon. And he may be an ancient prick but Vox is so insufferable.

17. Seriously if anyone gets to kill you it’s me. And since I can’t nobody can.

18. We keep having to replace phones because of your tantrums.

19. And employees

20. And TV screens for Vox

21. When you get angry you put things in the top shelves which is really a dick move.

22. At this point I’m starting to worry if you’ll take the name “pissbaby” seriously given your recent fixation and I do NOT want to deal with that.

23. I know tormenting employees can be fun, but also Angel Dust gets us a lot of money. And if he finds a way to opt out then I’m making sure the financial loss comes out of YOUR funds.

24. I don’t want to go to any more shitty overlord meetings alone because Vox is busy having a mental breakdown and you’re busy looking up new forms of torture.

25. Unlike that Carmine hag I am NOT a wrinkly old mom so STOP making me act like it.

25. Apparently you can only be so “problematic” in Hell and you’ve definitely passed that point

26. Seriously? Do you know how often #CancelTheVees is trending? #CancelValentino is FINE but then you go dragging me into this shit…

27. I’m tired of being the responsible one. Why don’t you two old fucks get your shit together?

[scoutswritingcorner]

Careful, Baby On Board

Cursed Cat Alastor

TW: The Vee’s, biting, Cursed Cat Alastor being a menace

A/N: I had an idea of Cursed Cat Alastor being in a babybjorn carrier

The day had started out fine, you had to do a few errands around the hotel for Charlie and Vaggie. You were currently finishing eating your snack, Catastor (You originally named it Cat Alastor but that was too long) in your other arm as you ate. It was purring loudly, slowly blinking as if it was about to fall asleep in your arm. It’s paws carefully making air biscuits as it looked around the room ignoring you as you ate your snack.

Sadly every moment of peace is broken in the ever busy Hazbin Hotel as Charlie walks into the kitchen looking guilty as she wrung her fingers together smiling at you. You looked up at her, “Yes Charlie?” You asked as you took another bite of the very very off brand granola bar you had found whilst digging around in the pantry of the kitchen without Alastor finding out but Catastor did find out easily. “So…I have another errand for you cause Sir Pentious accidentally broke one of the bar taps and the part we need is more in town and you’re the only other one who can go..Alastor won’t go near the Vee’s tower..” She explained before smiling at you, opening her mouth about to say something else but stopped when you shrugged, “Okay.”

“..okay? That’s all?” She asked, disbelieving that you would answer so quickly, “Yeah..I’ll head out in a second.” You hummed, throwing your trash away as Catastor made a little growling noise in response. “Hush grumpy boy, we are going on an adventure.” You whispered out to him giving him a gentle kiss to his head which made him start purring more. Silly cat behaves much like your darling deer man.

~~~

After looking at what broke and taking a picture of it to make sure you could find the right things you had headed into town. The only store that was close was sadly in the Vee’s distract of Pentagram City which was dangerous for most of the hotel- Angel because Valentino and Alastor won’t go anywhere near modern technology and barely anyone in the hotel goes this far into pentagram city. So it was up to you, which you didn’t really care much for as you usually tuned everything out and stayed in huge crowds to avoid Vox finding you. The fucking creep trying to either flirt with you and get you to leave Alastor or he just watches you.

Straightening out your jacket to keep Catastor from growling at the amount of modern technology around and calm in the babybjorn carrier you had bought and specifically custom made for him so you could carry him around with you easier. While he was practically light as a feather, your arm would get all tingly after a while, he also tended to pick a fight with anyone who dared venture too close for his comfort. Sadly lady luck was not on your side on this fine hellish evening, first when you got into the store they were completely out of the part you needed and it wouldn’t be shipped in until a week later, so you had to call Charlie and get her decision on what to do, then Catastor didn’t like how the store manager was looking at you and decided to have an early lunch which resulted in you getting kicked out after you had negotiated a reasonable way for them to deliver the item to the Hotel and finally when you thought your day couldn’t get worse. Vox had to show his face to you as you finally got Catastor calmed down enough to get back into the carrier.

You fixed your jacket and gave Catastor a little kiss on his head before turning around to immediately run into Vox’s chest. “What the fuck.” You hissed out angrily glaring up at the tall tv headed demon, who only smirked at you. “What the fuck indeed, I didn’t expect you to be out and about this part of pentagram city!” He said loudly causing you to flinch, you already felt a migraine building behind your eyes. The low static that emitted from Catastor started to become louder and louder by the passing seconds as Vox went on and on about something you couldn’t care about.

“What…what the fuck is that noise?” He hissed out his screen glitching in anger, “My baby.” you replied quickly making the overlord stop in his tracks, “You have a kid?” He asked, watching you nod and open your jacket to show the bright red and black fluff ball that was currently hissing and jerking its head in anger. Bright red dialed eyes glaring Vox down, as it easily escaped the carrier it was in, saliva and foam escaping its fangs. “This is my baby boy and bodyguard while my darling Husband is off doing his own thing.” You replied looking at your nails, nonchalantly. 

Vox opened his mouth to say something but as his hand reached over to touch you that’s when Catastor pounced, claws digging into the Overlord’s chest and screen as he bit down anywhere he could. It was over in a flash as Vox had disappeared using his electricity and Catastor was standing where Vox laid before snarling and growling out wires in his mouth. You smiled picking him up, praising him as you took the red and blue wires out of his mouth. “Don’t need my bodyguard to get a stomach ache later.” You hummed walking back to the hotel.

Alastor is going to have a field day when he hears what happened with Vox. Maybe rub it in the overlord’s face at the next meeting.

[after-witch]

Hazbin Hotel yandere Alastor imagine

note: discussions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, afab reader, misogny

Oh, to be in Hell and working for Valentino, who uses and abuses you, who goes from hot to cold depending on his moods, whims, and whatever might be pissing him off or propping him up at the moment.

It's not the living you wanted to be making. It's not the life--or afterlife--that you envisioned for yourself. But you owe him so much money (he fed you, and clothed you, and kept a roof over your ungrateful head, didn't he?) and you don't know how else you could pay him back.

But one day you happen to catch someone whispering about this new Hotel where you might be able to get better? Where life might be able to get better? Where you might get, and the word refuses to even catch on your tongue despite it dancing in your ears, redeemed?

You want that. All of it. Even it means risking getting the (after) life beaten out of you.

And on a rare free morning you sneak out and make your way to the front door and a tiny (cute, but, horrifying) little maid answers but before she can get a word in edgewise, a blonde woman--the literal princess of Hell, you realize--jumps into the doorway and grabs your hand to shake it vigorously and welcome you in with the biggest smile you've ever seen that isn't (for once) tinged with something awful behind it.

You practically trip inside as she excitedly pulls you into the foyer where a gaggle of people are sitting on a velvet couch and oh, shit, you know one of them.

Angel. You knew he was here--Val would not stop bitching about it--but it's different hearing about him being involved in this little project and actually seeing him out of the studio.

When Angel sees you, he freezes, his eyebrows shoot practically to the sky. And you're about to beg him not to tell Val, please-please-please, Angel might get away with being here but you don't have that kind of sway, when someone slides in front of you.

Red hair, pointy teeth, a fantastically red coat.

Alastor, of course.

You're not supposed to talk to him. Val and Vox made it clear to everyone in the studio. The Radio Demon is an "old timey fuck" who needs to fuck off and any one caught fraternizing with him might as well be fucking dead (or they'd wish they were) so stay away.

And his reputation wasn't any better with what you'd heard on the street.

But... he doesn't seem all that bad. And you were already taking a Big Fucking Risk by coming here, it's not like Val would go easier on you if you pleaded that sure, you snuck out, sure you came here when you knew you shouldn't, but you clamped your mouth shut and didn't talk to Alastor, you swear!

"Greetings," he says, and you want to smile a little. Because he really does sound like a radio, the kind your mom used to listen to when you were young, even though they were going out of style. Sometimes you missed that, sitting around the table while the radio played, tinny voices and music playing.

"Hi," you manage, voice quiet. "I mean, greetings," you say, stupidly, really.

But he doesn't call you a moron (like Val might) or ignore you (like Vox might)--instead he dips and picks up your wrist gently and he actually kisses your hand, a perfunctory gentlemanly peck of a greeting, instead of licking a slimy trail up your arm like Val is prone to do.

Can you help the little "oh!" that escapes your lips? No. Can you help the heated flush that creeps up your chest? No.

And if he, to everyone's surprise, winds up taking you under his wing--can you complain? No.

He doesn't tell you, like Val did, that you'll pay him back every red cent when he conjures up a closet full of clothes to replace your scant wardrobe. The clothes are modest and lovely and again, your mom springs to mind. The stuff she'd pull out of her closet and hold to her chest sometimes, because they no longer fit.

You wish you'd worn those clothes, when you got old enough to fit into them. But they were moth eaten and out of style and you'd look at her aghast when she asked if you wanted them when you were moving out.

So you didn't. But now... well, they don't fit so bad, do they? You even look nice in them. Alastor says "you're a vision of loveliness, dear," when you wear one of the outfits he's picked out. And you're not sure if it's a pun on his name or a genuine compliment, but you thank him all the same.

Charlie agrees to set up a room for you and Alastor helps with that, too. Although his help mostly involved changing out the standard linens for something nicer, stocking your closet and dresser with old fashioned clothes, and removing the TV.

You almost protested, but he reminded you that "your old friend Vox just might pop in and see you" and ah, it all made sense.

Alastor was looking out for you. Like he did with the clothes. Like he does with the way he helps you navigate the vague, ever-changing lessons that Charlie tries to teach.

Everyone here is nice, all things considered, for Hell.

It's not perfect.

Sometimes you would like to wear something more flashy and stylish, but what outfits Charlie manages to procure never seem to make it into your wardrobe.

Angel always looks like he's going to vomit when Val calls because at this point you are considered "missing" and Val does not like it when his "whores try to ghost him," as you'd once heard him screeching on Angel's phone.

Angel always denies that you're here, denies that he's seen you, and for once, you're glad he can act well when it really matters.

And if Alastor gets a little too clingy... if he gets a little too controlling? If sometimes he reminds you of Val, pushing and pulling you in the directions he wants, you just remind yourself that he's not as bad.

He doesn't ever, ever hit you. He doesn't yell at you or even raise his voice, really!

He corrects, that's all.

Steers you to the right outfits, reminds you how to act like a lady (something he never seems to do with anyone else, to your embarrassment); gently grabs your wrist and brings you along with him around the Hotel, into the shadows of the streets where you won't be seen when he thinks you need some good old fashioned exercised or fresh air. (If the air in hell could be considered "fresh" is another thing entirely.)

So yes.

He might be a little controlling. You can admit that. Even if he has your best interest in mind.

But every time that little thought creeps into your head, you just remind yourself. He's not as bad as Val.

And when you're in Hell, "he's not as bad" might as well mean that he's good.

[mr-damian-s-power]

So Fat Nuggets being a gift to Angel Dust from Valentino kinda makes his existence feel less impactful. Angel finds comfort in a pet his abuser gave him. How does that work?

Worse yet, I'm sure I heard somewhere that originally, Angel rescued FN from a butcher. How is that not the better option? Angel felt sympathy for a small helpless animal and rescued it when he could have just as easily turned away and kept walking. He can feel positive emotions and thus, is viable for redemption. Organic character development, which Vivienne is allergic to, I guess.

Here, I thought up a scene for his introduction:

-

One day, Charlie notices Angel sneaking into the hotel. He seems very shifty, constantly looking around as he sneaks to his room. There's something in his hands, clutched to his chest. He keeps hiding behind stuff until he's able to dart up the stairs.

Charlie sees all of this and is naturally worried. Why is Angel sneaking around? What was he holding? Oh no, was he sneaking drugs into the hotel again? She has to confront him about this.

She goes up to his room and knocks on the door. A clatter is heard from inside, like something big fell on the floor, followed by a high squeal of all things that definitely didn't come from Angel.

Angel - What? Who is it?

Charlie - It's Charlie! Can I come in?

Charlie hears a quiet 'oh shit' followed by rustling from behind the door.

Charlie - Angel?

She goes to open the door, but it opens a crack as the Spider Demon casually leans against the doorframe.

Angel - Oh hey, Charlie, didn't hear you come in! What can I do ya for?

Charlie - Angel, I saw you creeping around the lobby just a minute ago before you came up here. I just wanted to know why.

Angel - *shrugs* I felt like it!

Charlie- *sighs* Angel, you know I don't like it when you lie.

Angel - I'm not! That thing I was holding was just...food!

Charlie- *narrows her eyes* I never said you were holding anything.

Angel looks visibly uncomfortable and begins sweating.

Charlie slips into the room and begins looking around.

Charlie - Angel, we've been over this. I don't want you sneaking drugs into the hotel anymore. Now where have you hidden them?

Angel - I wa- I wasn't doing drugs!

Charlie- Then what are you hiding?

She looks over at Angel's bed as her eyes move downwards. An empty bag lay next to it. There must have been something under there.

Angel - Charlie, wait! No!

Charlie gets down and looks under the bed. She gasps. Instead of drugs, she finds a small shivering Hellpig staring back at her. It dashes out and runs to Angel Dust, who quickly scoops it up.

Charlie - Angel, what is that?

Angel - Charlie, look, it's not what you think, okay? He's not violent or anything. He won't bite! Hellpigs a-are actually way cleaner than you think. I promise I'll keep him-

Charlie - Angel Angel Angel, slow down! Okay, take just take a minute to breathe and tell me what's going on? Where did you get this Hellpig from?

Angel - *sighs* Alright! I was walking back here from another job, when I walked past a butcher. I looked in and saw this little guy. He was in this tiny cage, squealing for help. I looked at the greasy bastard running the place and knew he was gonna enjoy chopping this one up.

The Hellpig oinks sadly and nuzzles into Angel's chest.

Angel - I couldn't just leave him there! He looked at me with his big eyes and I knew what I had to do. I opened his cage, grabbed him and ran! The guy chased me for a bit, but I gave him the slip.

Charlie - You...rescued him?

Angel - You should have been there! The poor guy was miserable! I guess I just know what it's like to be trapped with no way out. I couldn't leave him to suffer the same.

Angel brings the Hellpig up and hugs it to his face. The small Demon snorts and wags his curly tail.

Charlie - Aaawww, Angel~

Angel - *cringes* Don't fucking 'aww Angel' me! You would've done the same!

Charlie- But you did it! You had no monetary gain in this, you just did it because it was the right thing to do.

Angel - Uh.....yeah! Yeah, I guess I did!

Charlie- And he's so cuuuute~

She grabs the Hellpig's cheeks and squeezes them.

Angel - Yeah, hehe, he is! He's like a little fat nugget!

Charlie - Well that was really nice of you, Angel. I'm proud!

Angel - So he can stay?

Charlie smiles and nods. Angel cheers and snuggles his face against the wiggling Hellpig.

Charlie - I'll leave you two alone now.

Angel - Thanks, Charlie! Oh, by the way, if some asshole comes over here looking for a Hellpig, tell him to fuck off!

Charlie - ......I'll keep that in mind!

-

Thoughts?

[cherrycrushes]

only on camera - headcanons

(separate) alastor, lucifer, vox, angel, striker x camgirl!reader.

a/n: starting to get into making headcanons! lowk fun. also slight maturity warning

alastor

✮ you guys probably met upon his arrival at the hotel

✮ you being angel's close friend because your line of work

✮ he didn't know what a camgirl was until a very awkward conversation explaining what your job was to him

✮ he was shocked to say the least

✮ to imagine people would pay just to see you touching yourself was definitely an odd thing for him

✮ he definetely acted weird around you

✮ but throughout multiple conversations, he realized you were much smarter than he thought, despite your occupation

✮ you had to explain to him certain marketing strategies you did just to lure people into subscribing and paying for you

✮ he respected the hustle, but definetely left you alone when working

✮ after doing a live stream, he would provide aftercare

✮ giving you water and food after

✮ he's actually very sweet about it!

lucifer

✮ i'd like to think being a camgirl was only your part-time job

✮ your main job being a mechanic

✮ he was at your shop, waiting for you to fix a mechanical duck he made but couldn't fix

✮ and attempted to make awkward small talk!

✮ when you told him what you did, he chuckled awkwardly

✮ he was supportive!!

✮ and when you two had started dating, the sugar baby accusations came in

✮ it only slightly affected your relationship, having to clear up the rumors

✮ to combat them, you showed the press how much you made on your own

✮ just to prove to them you had enough sugar, and there wasn't any need for a rich man

✮ you were the rich man

✮ lucifer only fell harder for you at this attitude

✮ the public eating it up as more pda showed from the two of you

✮ him proudly showing you off

vox

✮ he probably watched your work and reached out to you

✮ he defo jacked off to it but whatever!

✮ he reached out to you seeing the amount of viewers you had each stream

✮ you being on the leader-board for one of the top camgirls

✮ he promised you eternal fame for your soul

✮ you were much smarter than that, and you turned him down

✮ this only made him want you more (eugh men)

✮ but you made a deal with HIM, promising him to be the face of some of his products if he gave you more subscribers

✮ he gave in, and started falling in love with your business demeanor

✮ he secretly joined in some of your streams, his face not showing

angel

✮ he defo met you through valentino

✮ but you guys connected through sharing similar experiences

✮ helping each other fend off creeps whenever going out

✮ especially helping each other if he had to film and you had to stream

✮ i'd imagine your relationship would have little to no sex at all

✮ just pure fluff and cuddles :))

✮ eventually Valentino would invite you to film with angel

✮ more likely, he would force you to film with angel

✮ to which you had to agree to (or angel would have to face the consequences)

✮ angel would say it was fine and you didn't have to

✮ but you did it for him

✮ being as soft as possible

✮ angel remembers the experience as one of his best on set, even if the film had less views as the others

✮ lots and lots of aftercare!!

striker

✮ he probably didn't know what it was until he asked

✮ and when he did find out, he teased you mercilessly

✮ but you endured it, only snapping when he called you something of a slut

✮ oooo heavy enemies to lovers vibes here

✮ ygs going band for band LMFAO

✮ he falls in love with your feisty personality

✮ always having a comeback when he mentioned something about your job

✮ you guys surprisingly have a lot in common

✮ him killing people for money, you fucking yourself for money

✮ definitely a lot in common!

✮ actually helping you film a stream that had bondage in it

✮ people noticing more streams with a gun kink theme around it hehe

[maladaptiveobsession]

yandere valentino x reader x angel dust

contains: reader w/unspecified genitals, gn reader, nsfw themes, noncon/dubcon, dehumanization, degradation, heavy abuse (brief mentions of physical violence, manipulation, sexual exploitation), dacryphilia, overstimulation

word count: 2,160

It’s not unusual for sinners to throw themselves at Valentino’s feet, but it is the first time the red skies of hell have thrown one directly onto him. The impact sends you both to the ground, collapsing in a startled heap.

He scrambles to throw you off, having every intention to rip you to scraps. Upon lifting your head, he suddenly has grander schemes in mind. His towering figure and lascivious grin send shivers down your spine.

“My, what lovely specimen do we have here? How kind of heaven to send a beauty like yourself directly to me.” His flirtations send blood rushing to your head, making your face grow warmer. You shyly break eye contact, swiveling your head to get a look around. Where is this place?

Valentino must notice your growing confusion and distress, interrupting your thoughts with a low chuckle.

“Welcome to hell, dollface.” Oh, you must be dead. You never thought you were perfect, but you never could’ve imagined you’d go to hell! Where did you go wrong? Suddenly thrust into hell with murderers, rapists, and monsters alike, you wondered if you could die twice.

“Don’t look so down, baby; you’re in luck! There’s no better demon you could’ve crashed into.” He goes on to introduce himself as a powerful overlord with a well-known and successful business.

“I’m feeling awfully generous right now. Why don’t you come work for me? I know just where to put you! You’ll fit right in! I’m sure my patrons will love you too.” He pauses to let you digest the information. “As my employee, you’d be provided housing. I could easily protect you from the creeps and losers on this side of hell. I’ll even forgive you for dirtying my coat! Sounds like a steal, right?”

He takes a long drag from a cigar that you're not sure where came from, then whips out a contract and pen.

“So, how about it, baby?”

Stranded in an unfamiliar place, you easily accept his kindness. As you take hold of the pen, something about his grin makes you uneasy.

If only you read the fine print. So began your life of torment.

What Valentino neglected to mention was that the “successful business” he ran was a porn studio. You spent hours doing photoshoots, films, and shows. Like Valentino suggested, you became his star attraction—the shy and delicate pornstar all of hell’s degenerates thirsted for. Yet they would never get a taste. Valentino didn’t share his personal toys. 

Inexplicably, he couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted to own you the moment he saw your pretty face, drawn to the light in your eyes.

Even with your skin bruised by his fingers and your throat sore from careless treatment, you still desired his rough affection. You didn’t mind that he left you battered each night or his harsh comments when you couldn’t keep up with his demands.

You could even forgive him for cruelly allowing his customers to take advantage of you and fuck you back into submission.

“I said I could protect you; I never said I would. Perhaps you’ll think twice before disobeying in the future.”

You would do anything if it meant receiving his violent devotion.

Being the personal toy of an egomaniacal moth could never be easy, but at least you weren’t alone. You had befriended none other than Valentino’s former favored pornstar, Angel Dust. Despite your differences in character, your shared experiences created a bond neither of you could find anywhere else. Misery always finds company.

Angel felt conflicted upon meeting you. That bastard had finally found a new toy to replace him! His joy only lasted until he heard your voice, so soft and sweet.

Valentino would break you.

Angel dreamed of the day Valentino would grow bored of him and find a new toy to play with. Now that that dream was a reality, he couldn’t push down the guilt. Shouldn’t he feel happy?

There was nothing Angel could do to protect you, but he could give you advice on how to protect yourself.

“Just do what he says. The consequences aren’t worth going against his word.”

He hadn’t planned on getting so close to you; he had tried to scare you off with cruelties, but you never minded. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake you. He tried to keep his distance and went out of his way to avoid you. You must have taken the hint and stopped bothering him like he’d wanted.

He didn’t owe you anything, so why did your absence make him feel worse? Why did he feel like something was missing?

Angel found his answers not long after.

He'd followed the muffled sound of choked sobs to your studio, pausing outside the cracked door. Against his better judgment, he peeked inside.

He’s met with the sight of you huddled in your vanity seat, knees raised to your chest, and your face buried in your arms.

“Doll?”

You raise your head at the sound of Angel’s voice, rushing to wipe away tears. You greet him with the best smile you can manage.

How miserable you must look to him, with smudged mascara and puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry for bothering you so often, Angie.” With how hoarse your voice is, he suspects you’ve been crying for a while. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I just felt so alone, you know?”

He does. He knows better than anyone.

It suddenly occurs to him how much of an asshole he’s been. You didn’t deserve the shit he’s been giving you.

He'd put up walls ever since he signed away his freedom; he couldn’t trust anybody. He thought nobody could understand what kind of shit he’s been through, but then you came along. You do understand because you’re going through it.

You’re all each other has.

“Don’t cry for the bastard. He doesn’t deserve your tears.” You look like you’re about to apologize again, but he continues. “Listen, I’m sorry for being such a douchebag lately. You didn’t do nothing wrong. We’ve only got each other in this shithole.”

You smile brightly, unsure what caused the sudden change in attitude, but happy nonetheless. “Right, together, we’re not alone.”

So began your unlikely friendship.

Unfortunately, Valentino wasn’t nearly as enthused. His obsession grew to new heights when you befriended Angel Dust. This manifested itself in the form of longer studio hours and even rougher sex.

Seeing you get along on set made his blood boil. The final straw was the stupid grin you sent Angel’s way. How dare you flirt with that slut! How dare he grin back!

You both clearly needed to be reminded of your status. Since you liked each other so much, he would be happy to give his blessings. Why, he’d personally see to your union.

Later that evening, you found yourself back on set, blindfolded and gagged. The cold nipped at your bare skin. Valentino kept the studios cold to keep your nipples perked. The handcuffs keeping your hands pinned to the bed post provided little comfort.

The sound of the film crew setting up around you sent heat to your sex. You couldn’t swallow the feeling of disgust residing in your throat; how could you enjoy this? Even amongst the buzz of conversations, you could easily pick out the click of Valentino’s healed boots. You wait for the familiar call to begin filming, yet you do not find it.

It’s only when a pair of hands, strangely familiar, find their way to your chest that you realize the set began. The whole situation strikes you as strange, but what could you do anyhow? Nothing would change the outcome. In the end, all you’d receive for your curiosity would be a nasty bruise.

So you brush off your worries and focus on the sensation of soft hands groping at your chest, teasing your nipples. You can’t help but lean into their gentle touches; the familiarity comforting.

The way they glide across your skin—as if searching—you wonder if they’re blindfolded too. Shivers run across your spine as they spread your legs, the cool air kissing your core. The bed shifts as your film partner settles between your thighs, their hands never leaving you.

Fingers prod at your entrance, sinking in easily. Your head spins at the sudden intrusion. As they finger and stretch your hole, you struggle to maintain composure. Each motion was intentional and practiced. You could feel the slick gather below you in a thick puddle. Somehow, they knew how to work you just right.

Droplets of pre-cum smeared against your skin as their cock brushed up against your thigh.

Unable to wait any longer, you tried lifting your hips away from their fingers. You wanted more; you wanted to be filled.

Your desire clouded any creeping shame or embarrassment. You never wanted this; why shouldn’t you enjoy the pleasure being given?

The hand lingering on your hip stills you with surprising strength; another set of hands you didn’t know they had pushes your thighs up to your chest. Desire clouds your thoughts, never once questioning the owner of said hands.

They guide their cock to your entrance, driving it in without warning—the sudden stretch takes your breath away. Though easier to accommodate than Valentino’s, you still find yourself pushed past your limits.

Little time is given to adjust; their pace is rough but controlled. Waves of pleasure burn through you. 

Your moans and pleas are swallowed up by the gag. Tears of pleasure and pain gather in your eyes, darkening the fabric of your blindfold. It hurts so good; the intensity building in your core threatens to snap. A particularly rough thrust sends powerful shockwaves throughout your body.

They shudder against you, their pace stuttering for only a brief moment. They were too busy changing their own bliss. You writhe against your binds as the heat within tightens once more, all too soon. Your pleas for clemency are muffled.

Valentino watches with great interest, languidly stroking his own length as you're brought back to the edge of pleasure. You were so sensitive and expressive.

His favorite slut being forced to use his personal toy wasn’t a sight he thought he’d enjoy. He’d initially been reluctant, only convinced by the masses demanding your collaboration.

Now he couldn’t wait for the reveal—to see the despair of fucking your only friend. Commanding his toys to fuck like dolls was fun; maybe he’d do it again some time.

He watched closely as Angel’s hips stuttered, pace becoming erratic, and fingers pressing deep into your thighs. The heat of his climax sends you over the edge. With your ears ringing and your heart pounding, you feel dizzy. Darkness swallows up your vision.

Valentino makes note of your limpness, suddenly struck by an idea. He strides over to Angel, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you flirting with my toy?” He didn’t miss the way Angel tenses. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Wasting no time, he wrenched the blindfold off.

Angel’s reaction is more than he’d hoped for. Horror and disgust flash in his eyes as he scrambles to pull out of you. He tumbled off the bed in his urgency and crumpled at Val’s feet in despair.

Angel can feel his stomach in his throat, panis rising.

“Aw, did you not like my gift?” Valentino mocks him, relishing in the pitiful display. “Well, too bad. Pick yourself up and get ready to do it again.”

For a moment, Angel is unresponsive. He has to do that all over again? He has to violate you? He can’t do that to you; it would break you.

Buzzing under the thick layer of disgust creeps darker desires: to touch and tease your skin, to sink into your warmth. To do it all over again.

He doesn't notice the way his dick responds, but Valentino certainly does. How unexpected!

“Holy shit, are you hard again? Does the thought of raping your friend turn you on that much? I wonder what your friend will think?” He can taste your fear and anguish already. “Let’s not waste any time, then.”

Angel's fear is palpable and thick. He doesn’t want to lose you. When you open your eyes, the little sanctuary you've built together will never be the same.

You should feel something, but you can only feel empty as your only friend splits you open against both of your wills. Averting his eyes, he rocks into you. Valentino’s voice hardly registers at all. 

“Don’t act so shy, Angelcakes. Go on, fuck them with your eyes like you usually do. If I don’t see some eye contact, there will be consequences for your dearest friend.”

With your eyes connected, you can’t pretend anymore. This is happening. This is real. 

You only have each other, but together you created a nightmare you can’t escape. At least you’re not alone—closer than you’ve ever been.

[darin-nidk]

Shut your cakehole.| Vox &. sibling!Reader.

Content: Older brother Vox having beef with his younger sibling, Reader, once they got to reunite in Hell. Childish bickering.

▪︎ To be fair, Vox hadn't expected his younger sibling to be in Hell. Sure, they were not by any means an angel aaand Vox had recluctantly covered their ass and fuck-ups when they were alive, sometimes taking the blame for either the thrill of a savior complex or because he did care, not that he was going to show them that. Fucking no.

▪︎ So who the fuck would be giving a shit that one of the oh-so-called prophets, that Vox as a 'god' had, was none other than (Y/N).

▪︎ Still, when Vox didn't find trace of his parents in Hell, it was somewhat a bummer. Not exactly something he was looking forward to, but he wasn't opposed to the idea of, you know, having some sort of relative lingering in the back of his mind to visit or whatever it is that healthy families do.

▪︎ He didn't want to think about the very much real possibility of them getting killed before he got here.

▪︎ Nonetheless, when one day Valentino showed up at Vox's room, the one that was surrounded by security cameras (and even cameras that did not have any real purpose other than him being a creep) with a demon way too familiar to the point it was uncomfortable (what's with having an oval-shape head that was actually a LED screen. It was creepy how they shared similar expressions to Vox himself)... Yeah, Vox connected the dots. Unfortunately.

▪︎ "I had never been religious but I did pray to God that I would not cross paths with your sorry excuse of an ass", (Y/N) whined at the sight of their older brother who shared that TV trait, or more like technology theme. They groaned loudly and hid their face on Valentino's fur, and nuzzled there for a moment before straightening their posture. Making their way over to Vox, standing before him. "You looked more handsome in your coffin".

▪︎ "I was much happier when that freak accident killed me before I got home to your cooking". Vox was quick to reply at that jab, both tech-demons staring wordlessly at each other before breaking into a smile and soon it turned into laughter.

▪︎ Valentino was confused.

▪︎ Velvette was unamused when she walked into the Vee's tower and witnessed that scene. Turning on her heels to leave ASAP.

BONUS SCENARIO.

"So today in— fuck, (Y/N) stop, stop doing that!". The TV demon hissed, trying to supress his poorly hidden smile before he gave up and chuckled, hiding a majority of his screen behind the printed script that his claws gripped tightly. Thankfully, this was rehearsal and not an actual LIVE.

The reason for the ever 'everything needs to be perfect' overlord's laughter was his sibling — (Y/N) was behind the camera, displaying funny videos on their face-screen to distract Vox.

[weebsinstash]

the brand new Angel Dust song that just came out has me thinking how absolutely fucked a Reader who is a dancer/musician/singer/producer would be with a yandere Valentino because it really does seem like, coming off of just the general materials and vibes I'm getting, that Valentino also turns his pornstars into sort of miniature celebrities, dare I say, idols even, which would maybe inherently fit the theme of Hazbin Hotel being a musical sort of show at heart. People break out into song, Asmodeus runs a club where music is performed, Angel sings as he strips, Alastor just... as is like just his entire aesthetic and musical number was 🤌, sing about being horny, sing about being addicted, sing about being sad, I dunno there's just an inherent love of music in all of it

I've never really posted about it in detail but I've thought of the ever so elusive MALE READER x Valentino (or transdude/intersex Reader because like, I guess i would, have to, accurately research what having a dick would feel like for smut of that and, I don't know, it's my turn on the gender power fantasy and I say--)

Male Reader who just keeps to himself and waits on Val's table "because you're too stiff, you'll scare off other customers" and one night the Overlord just catches you seemingly alone sweeping floors/cleaning while dancing/singing something, that whole trope where you just don't see him or have your eyes closed and practically do a full musical number until you notice him, just like seating himself in a chair, smoking a cigar, looking at you all smug and horny and thinking of all the different things he could use you (and your holes) for

Absolutely does he exploit weakness and if you don't have a prior addiction, he'll get you one. He'll shotgun something straight into your mouth, mix something into your weed, put a pill in your drink, nudge you towards that alcohol you're trying to stay away from, he'll do it all. He'll get you so fucked up your entire body is buzzing and you're stumbling and you can barely even move and that's when he pounces on you, doing whatever he wants, looking at whatever he wants, touching wherever he wants, and you might not even remember it afterwards and you'll only find out when he shoves his phone full of pictures in your face to mock you

You can't stay closeted/hiding an interest for men around this creep because he'd be secretly feeding you like ecstacy or something that loosens your lips and has you blabbing all your secrets and feelings to him in a horny fucked up haze. The blackmail potential with this dude is IMMENSE. He'd get you fucked up and delirious and film a cell phone shot of you taking his dick and threaten to show it to everyone he wants to unless you do whatever he says (and he's already showing it to people behind your back anyways, but, it's to be gross and coo over how cute and sexy you look taking his loads, stuff like that)

Valentino would take that passion and talent for music that you have and do something gross with it. Oh you're an actor, huh? Good, good, so your reaction will be experienced and authentic when he asks you to bring him a coffee on set and suddenly you're being literally dog-piled on by like 5 ripped hung hellhounds while cameras are rolling :) he thinks he might have an interest in your body, oh, suddenly there's a mandatory employee calendar photoshoot where you he to wear a thong or something skimpy and he can see everything but your genitals (and can tell whatever the situation down there is if you were trying to hide it. Fat ass? Exposed. Secretly a grower/hung? Exposed.)

At the end of the day you're his bottom bitch no matter how big or tough or maybe not even gay you are, because he even has lesbians cuddle up to him for Hot Girl Clout and that shit was on his Instagram. Everything's about him having pretty trophies and nice things and pampering himself while treating others like shit. Yeah, you'll be his little caged pet he obsesses over, but you'll be a very decorated, very well-fed, very financially spoiled little caged pet. If you're gonna get regularly railed by some nasty huge egotistical demon, it might as well come with some sweet perks like a deep bank account and all the luxuries his self-absorbed ass can afford, right?

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Sorry if I’m a bother, if that’s the case feel free to skip over this one.

I freaking loved it! I’m now inspired to draw Sam with the overlords now! If it’s not too much trouble could I ask for Zestial, Charlie and the rest of the hotel’s reactions to Sam?

(Ooo!😳 what if for Angel’s it’s Valentino who tries to hurt him?! That could get messy!)

A/n: Nah dude you're fine! Though I don't write for Zestial (not that that's your fault I keep forgetting to put that in the rules.)

Warnings (?): nothing major happens but Val's here so warning for abuse. Also, Alastor is hurt in Husk's part and Val is hurt in Angel's part, it's nothing graphic but if you don't want to read about that skip those parts.

!!!not proofread!!!

Charlie: Just as cuddly as you! Gladly accepts any candy from you. She ends up getting candy from the hotel for you. Let's you tag along if it's safe (or at least what she assumes you can handle.) Despite being the princess of Hell it's a known fact that she's a pushover and usually refuses to use her powers. So it's not that much of a surprise when someone attacks her. What is a surprise is how you react. I'm going to be honest, she is at least a little scared of you now. Though she's pretty sure you'd only attack people when they hurt your friends. We’re about 80% sure they're harmless.

Vaggie: She ain't too keen on cuddles, but isn't totally against it. She's not great with kids when they're just chilling so she doesn't know what to do. Also, she isn't one for sweets but appreciates the gesture. You remind her of Charlie in a weird way (but like platonic obviously.) Vaggie got some crayons for today's bonding activity when some random sinner attacked Vaggie. Before Vaggie could defend herself the sinner was ripped off of her. She just stared dumbfounded as you took care of the sinner. Well, there goes her thinking you're like Charlie. I mean sure you seemed sweet when somebody attacked a person you liked. You became terrifying and did anything to defend them- wait never mind you're more like Charlie now.

Angel Dust: Kinda creeped out by you before you do anything tbh. You follow him around nearly everywhere and keep offering him candy, despite barely knowing each other. But he understands you're a kid and may have a hard time showing you care, but he sets a ground rule: NEVER follow him to work. It's not a place for kids to be, and you followed that! Valentino just couldn't keep his hands off Angel even out of the studio. You too were just at a park, it was night so no one was really around. Until Valentino spotted Angel, you didn't hear any of the words that were said between them. But you did see Valentino hit Angel and that was the end of that. Seeing you almost kill Valentino was horrifying but also very cathartic. After the initial shock wears off you get about 20 bags of candy and however much cuddle time you want.

Husk: He's pretty blunt about finding you off-putting. But you don't seem to care and still follow him around like a lost puppy. The fact that him insulting you didn't sour your opinion of him even a little bit concerns him. So he starts to look after you. Not because he cares about you! Just because it'd be messed up to let a kid get manipulated no matter who they are. He totally cares about you. He gives chocolate milk or any sweet drink you like at the bar. One day Husk decided to stand up to Alastor which seemed to be a huge mistake on Husk's part. It would have been if it wasn't for you walking in on the scene. The threats were made good on. Just towards Alastor instead of him doing them. Husk is a little shaken up but hey he's probably free now. Gets you any candy you want and shows you a shit ton of card tricks.

Niffty: Tbh I don't have much to say about her. She finds you interesting but doesn't give you much thought. Though eventually when you protect her she returns your affection. Because you are scary and small which are both things she is.

Sir Pentious: (this is while he's in hell btw) Not great with kids. Like I don't think the egg bois are kids but even if they are the only experience he has with kids is his minions. But he does try! He does care for kids. He'll get you candy and cuddle if you want. He used to try to take over territories a lot. He always failed but he still made a lot of enemies that way. So when one of them finds him and tries to hurt him while you're around? I mean if he still wants that territory he can definitely take it now. To be honest I think he'd find you cool, even if you're more than a little scary.

[so-this-is-hell]

Ok I watched the leaked episodes

Let’s start with the positives! I love positives!

- Alex Brightman put his whole Alexussy into this shit oh my god, Pentious and Adam actually sound really good. Adam singing is also really really good. Alex can sing in character and carry things well and I’m glad now he’s part of the project. Because at least it’ll be bearable if I see the other episodes.

-Vox is actually weirdly really compelling? Like I actually ended up enjoying the vibe he’s got and his own voice grew on me, I know it’s not what people wanted but it works well.

-Nifty’s voice is pretty ok, so is Charlie’s. They’re some of the better voices of the cast, Alastor’s performance was uh. It wasn’t bad so there’s that!

-the opening exposition was needed but also a bit hamfisted- wait shit the positives- uh, I love the direction it went? Art wise?

-the songs are pretty good, they get you from point A to point B, and at least wasn’t Poison levels of cringe in writing.

-Charlie actually helping Pentious in episode 2 try to repent and be a better person actually feels nice, like a crumb of what the show should of be-

…

Ok let’s get to the point.

-the episodes clearly are trying to shove as much of the plot as humanly possible, to the point that you get whiplash.

-Angel Dust, Vaggie, Valentino, Husk all have voices that either do not fit, crack from the pressure to perform, or are trying so hard to mimic the previous voice that it’s actually worrying. The Angel dust one in particular I’ll get to when I get to the point.

-The plot starts with the main antagonist, literally telling Charlie that her plan is pointless and she should give up. There’s no actual “I want” song to counter this, unless you count the song where Adam mocks her for trying and tells her the exterminations will happen twice a year now.

-Pentious at least wasn’t a creep like i was fearing in the script, but he comes off too pathetic? Like I know he was pathetic and that’s the point but why the fuck does he want to be equal to the Vees now? Didn’t he want to rule over hell himself? I know the instagram had him crop himself into pictures with the Vees but remember those aren’t canon!

-I realized I was able to hop in because I had Wikipedia level knowledge of these characters to the point they click in my head (and enough to where Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie and Husk all felt a little off but that’s neither here nor there). But god I cannot imagine being a new person trying to jump into this show, this is bad. None of the characters get actually introduced outside of Charlie, the show references the pilot which isn’t part of the show so new audiences have no idea what they’re talking about, and the staff gets actually introduced in episode 2. EPISODE 2, TO PENTIOUS!? GIRLIE POP HAVE HIM COME EPISODE 1 THEN?

-Animation that’s either too floaty, too janky, too stiff or straight up traced. Which I don’t blame the animators for, Mammon was busy buying 10,000 dollars worth of peacocks to bother paying them more than a dollar per frame. There’s no charm here.

-Where did the fucking cat key come from? No I’m serious. Where did it come from? It just kinda exists now.

-Alastor’s commercial is just straight up MEAN and he’s often more mean than chaotic, which I know is ironic since he wasn’t a good person and I wasn’t expecting him to be but it’s to a point where it’s not even fun mean. He literally called Charlie’s endeavor “Daddy issues”. It felt like he was just there to slap Charlie in the face.

-Angel Dust rant is gonna be so long that I saved it for last.

I have to put it under the read more because of talk of SA! Fun!

Ok.

I’m saying this as someone who loved him from the pilot and was willing to excuse his behavior as “flaws he can work on” since Addict and everything else proved that there was more under the surface and he was a character that could change and grow and-

…

…

Angel dust, the rape victim… the guy running away from his abuser…

The Angel dust who has traumatic episodes so fucking graphic that he flashes back to them when he’s performing.

Saying “yeah no, fucking sexually exploit me! It turns me on!”

Viv, I know you’re not reading this but I mean this genuinely.

Fuck you.

As someone who’s family has experienced sexual abuse, as someone who’s family still has CPTSD because men in power decide to exploit them… how fuckin dare you make a character enjoy their own exploitation.

This isn’t me kink shaming a sexual character! He can be sexual and like sex! It’s never been the problem and hell it could of been liberation to have sex he deserves.

But no.

Let’s make the SA victim into the sexual harassment character, let’s make the SA victim the Stolas of the show where he wears down his love interest so thin that they have to give up.

Let’s make the SA victim still work under his shitty abuser, and make that into a joke as the abuser mentions wanting to rape everyone in the hotel.

Don’t pay to watch this show, I mean it.

Pirate it.

Hell don’t even watch it, find something better to watch. I’ve been binging anime as of late and I still like captain lazerhawk.

[vendetta-ari]

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY MY LOVES!!

heres a free valentine's gift from me to you, yall deserve it. I'm rlly grateful for you all and ily all sm, mwah!~

♡Headcanons for valentines day♡

~Lucifer~

-He would be panicking the entire month of february trying to figure out what to do for valentine's day.

-He wanted it to be perfect- no, it needed to be perfect 

-You didn't deserve anything less than perfection, after all.

-Luci would go all out, almost going bankrupt for you.

-Buying you a big duck plushie, buying the finest and most delicious chocolates, taking you to the fanciest dinner in all the rings of hell, and afterwards having some pretty romantic and soft sex.

-The morning after, he'd cook you breakfast in bed and watch your favorite movie with you. (he's such a cutie omfg..)

~Velvette~

-Posts all your dates for the day on social media

-speaking of, your valentine's day is packed with her, not a moment of silence and peace

-And she's organized it all, I mean.. only the best for her dolly, right?

-You start off with breakfast in bed, then you go clothing shopping and a “quick” photoshoot. after that you travel down to the lust ring to go to ozzies, then you go to a hotel there and fuck the rest of the night away

-the morning after you go back home and velvette brags to the other vee's

-She then cuddles you and take a nap during her break, before being woken up by an angry Valentino.

~Sir pentious~

-Almost completely forgot about valentine's day until the day after

-you asked him to be your valentine's, he was too nervous and scared to ask lmfao

-He takes you on his floating ship and shows you the prettiest sights in hell, afterwards you two stop by a lake and have a picnic and cuddle

-When you two get home you makeout and the fall asleep in eachothers arms <3

-The next morning you have some really nice morning sex, riding him until he's dizzy

-after that you both go for a walk, not leaving each others side for a minute.

~Angel Dust~

-Valentino has him working really late on valentine's day, to your dismay.

-you chill out with fat nuggets until he gets home, falling asleep next to him :)

-When be gets home he's in a pretty bad mood, you try and cheer him up and share a few drinks with him, giving him a gift

-You hand him some roses and some if his favorite snacks (besides you)

-Later the two of you cuddle the night away and fall asleep in eachothers arms, he needed the break I suppose.

-The next morning he takes you out to dinner as an apology, buying you your favorite foods and talking away the night with you.

~Vox~

-Asks you a week in advance and plans the whole thing perfectly.

-acts like a madman if everything doesn't go according to schedule.

-Gets out of work for his cute little doll, he definitely doesn't regret it either despite all the work he missed.

-Makes you breakfast In bed, and picks out your outfit for the day, taking you to an incredibly fancy dinner.

-After that you two go home, and have the most mind breaking sex and fall asleep in eachothers arms

-The morning after he runs both of you a bath and you two clean up. then he brings you to work with him, while he's busy with business call your sitting on his lap, still sore from valentine's day

~Valentino~

-your basically begging to hang out with him and go on an actual nice date instead of him just fucking your brains out

-Reluctantly he goes on a date with you after hours of convincing 

-you watch horror movies with him at ypur house, totally not bc he wants you to cuddle up next to him in fear

-After watching a bunch of movies he ends up fucking your brains out on the couch.

-the next morning val is nowhere to be seen except for a note on the kitchen table that reads “Thnks for the grate tiem I liekd the movies. 

~Valentino"

-He's really gotta work on his spelling. you thought to yourself while smiling.

~Alastor~

-Asks you to be his valentine's via a letter

-He takes you to Rosie's diner and you're only a little bit scared and creeped out by that.

-After taking you to Rosie's, he takes you to a lake with a picnic blanket laid out and wine and whiskey on it.

-Before getting too drunk you both walk back into the hotel, talking and laughing the nights away.

-When you two get back to the hotel, you decide he's been too stressed with the extrmanations so you give him head before you both go to sleep and cuddle.

-the morning after he returns the favor, making you unable to walk for the rest of the day <3

Hope yall enjoyed your gift!

-xoxo, Ari

[thowawayuntilfurthernotice]

Here’s the thing, it’s not impossible to write a morally reprehensible character and still have them be likable.

Take The Venture Bros for example, the majority of that show’s cast are either assholes or morally grey, but there’s never a point where they come off as poorly written because the writing is pretty consistent for the most part.

The problem with Valentino isn’t his personality, it’s the way he’s written.

He’s supposed to be a villain with good publicity, but he still acts like a creep around Charlie. Which completely ruins any tension of the studio scene because Charlie just comes off as a complete idiot for not noticing that something is off about this guy.

Yes, I know Charlie is meant to be hopelessly naive, but there’s a huge difference between being naive and failing to read the room.

It also doesn’t help that Valentino doesn’t seem to have any real motivation outside of wanting to abuse Angel.

His relationship with Vox and Velvette isn’t that well established, is he supposed to be in a romantic relationship with Vox? Or are they just fuck buddies? Why does Velvette hang around these guys if she believes that she’s the only one who is pulling her own weight?

Let’s be honest, the only reason Valentino is even in the first season is because Viv wanted an excuse to sneak in her SA fetish into the main narrative.

“Oh, it’s not fan service if it’s relevant to the plot.”

Except it isn’t relevant to the plot, it’s only there to be titillating.

I know Viv’s fans like to accuse anyone who doesn’t like episode four of being a morally righteous prude, but here’s the thing, Hazbin Hotel was never marketed as a fan service show.

It was always sold as a quote “Story about redemption” but it really isn’t.

The only demon who gets successfully redeemed in the first season is Sir Pentious (And even that’s debatable.)

And look, I don’t mind fan service or ecchi shows. Trust me, I’m no stranger to having weird kinks.

But if I wanted to see these characters fuck, I’d commission NSFW fan art.

This wouldn’t be such an issue if Hazbin Hotel was a well written show with fan service elements, rather than an excuse for Viv to watch her favorite characters fuck in an animated format.

[spitdrunken]

🖤🐑

I really do like your thoughts on Lucifer taking a girl(who is not his daughter but he wishes he was) and supporting her. He may be a bit overbearing at times but you can shrug it off as him being a dad which is why you don't exactly see when the touches become more than platonic...Many thoughts about it and also sususud of course Valentino does not use spell check.

valentino does NOT use spell check. plus when he texts Angel in the show, you can see him getting pissed enough to make typos... that's the vibe i wanted to emulate LMAO

+ if you have more thoughts about this pleaaaase share them!! :D

notes: possibly yandere, pseudocest (??? not really. but tagging just in case. lucifer established himself as a father-like figure for reader previously and then gets Weird about it.), lucifer is a bit of a creep in this one.

You'd heard from others that, before this, Lucifer had been solitary for ages. When he keeps asking you where you've been, fussing over you like you're some child, and keeps reminding you that he can protect you from everything and anything- You try to tell yourself that that's all because he has been away from people for so long that his social skills have gotten a little bit iffy. And it's kind of nice... To be cared for and looked after to that extent, you know? Hell can feel so lonely sometimes, and if you want anyone in your corner, it would definitely be him.

It's a bit harder to justify that this fallen angel, who has previously established himself as a kind of father figure, doesn't know the boundaries between normal touchiness, and something else entirely. His hands linger just a bit too long on your thighs when he plops down next to you, or you can feel his eyes resting just a ltitle too low, burning into you, as your back is turned against him. (One pro of his short height, maybe.) But you're sure that it's unintentional. Because he's just this kind of goofy and weird, nice guy, right? ...And yet, he's also the king of Hell.

[coffeewithcocoa]

HIIIIIII OK SO HERE I AM, I wanna ask if maybe you could write like angel x male reader (trans or not up to you) where the reader comforts him maybe after a hard day of work or smthng? My boy needs love and affection😭💗

HERE YOU GO! 🫡

YES ANGEL NEEDS LOVE AND CARE!! I threw a mental breakdown in here:)

Comforting An Angel

Angel Dust x Male Reader

I put male, hope that’s okay!

Summary: You give him comfort after a hard day of work.

(Look at the precious Ange)

——————————————————————

You were waiting in your lovely boyfriend’s, Angel Dusts, room for his return. He told you that he was going to come back late since Valentino wanted to shoot some more stuff with him. Which you understood but you still felt bad for him, especially since his boss is a creep.

You hated Valentino with all your guts. You hated him so much that you would sell your soul so Angel didn’t have to deal with him. He’s told you countless of times though that everything’s fine and that he’s fine, which didn’t make you feel better at all.

After some time of just zoning out and playing with Angels pig, fat nuggets, you got a text from him saying that he just got back and he’s heading to his room. Though you didn’t want to wait anymore so you hopped out of his bed, grabbed Fat Nuggets, and ran straight to the stairs.

Fat nugget oinked at you. “I’m not slowing down!” You told him as if he could talk. When you got halfway there you saw Angel with a liquor bottle in his hand and a tired expression on his face. Your face turned soft as you approached him, letting fat nuggets go and surprise him.

A small gasp left him as he went on his knees and had Nuggs just into his arms. “Awh hi my fat nuggets! How was your day with your other daddy, huh?” His went to a baby voice making you chuckle.

“How was your day Angel?” You gave him a smile. He sighed, grabbing the liquor bottle and standing up. “Stressful.” Your face changed to a softer one, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go to your room and you can talk about it, okay?” He nodded with a weak smile.

The walk back to his room felt quicker when he was actually with you. You opened his room door for him just as a kind act for him. He took a seat on his bed, placing Fat Nuggets In front of him. The liquor bottle being placed on his nightstand.

You took a seat in front of Fat Nuggets, petting him as you looked at Angel. “Could we maybe…cuddle?” He moved his legs so they were to his chest. You nodded, “Of course.” You grabbed Fat Nuggets carefully and sat closer to Angel.

He moved himself so he could easily grab you. Fat Nuggets was in the middle of you guys. “What did Val do this time?” Your voice came out stern.

“He’s into this water boardin’ shit now. He says it’s a kink..” He shrugs, his attention mostly towards Fat Nuggets. “So he’s been drowning you all day?” You rose an eyebrow at him. He nodded, “he gave me some breaks..only around a few seconds.” He tried defending Valentino.

Angel had told you the shit that he does behind closed doors away from the public. It sickens you. “Why’d you sign the contract?” You looked up at him, him doing the same to you. “‘Cause before then I loved him.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh Angel.” Tears flooded his eyes, quickly spilling out as he hugged Fat nuggets tightly. You moved behind him so you could lay on his bed. He moved his head to the crook of your neck.

You hugged him towards your body. “I wish I hadn’t signed that fuckin’ contract.” Angel said between sobs. “I know, it’s okay..shhh.” You gently rubbed his back, giving him kisses on his forehead.

A few minutes later the sobs stopped. You moved yourself back to see his sleeping face. He was hugging a sleeping Fat Nuggets that was in between the both of you. You chuckled as you kissed his damp cheek, “Have a nice rest love.”

With that you closed your eyes and fell asleep with a smile on your face.

———————————————————————

ITS A BIT RUSHED AT THE END IM SORRY😭 Hope you like it though.

Who else hates Valentino?:D

•Have a nice day/night!•

[fandomworld9728]

Oops... (Angel Dust/Lucifer)

(Requested by @buuteer) (AppleDust hidden relationship getting found out) (Hope this is okay. I wasn't really sure how to go about it and ran with this idea when it popped into my head)

(Warning! This takes place during episode 6 of Hazbin Hotel! So not only spoilers but trigger warning for Val being his usual dickhead, possessive, violent self!) (Also, protective Lucifer and Alastor as a bonus!)

"You forget who you're talking to. I own you."

The pink chains connecting Angel to the Overlord were yanked, pulling him close to him. "Yeah. You do. In the studio, and you can do anything you want to me in there, just like our deal says. But out here? I get to do what I want. So once again. Fuck off-"

Before Angel could finish, the moth demon had back handed him, sending him and Niffty to the floor. Mouth now bleeding. It had felt good to finally stand up to the man even with the repercussions. He wasn't about to let the creep mess with his friends. Especially not after what had happened that day with Charlie.

"Enjoy the rest of your night, bitch, because I'm going to enjoy making you pay for it tomorrow."

A flash of light bright light mixed with an eerie green filled the place, a summoning circle now between Angel Dust and Valentino to keep them separated. "What the fuck is this?"

Hushed whispers came from the sinners arounds them as Lucifer stepped out of the circle and walked slowly towards the moth demon, Alastor, who had accidentally got caught up in this, stayed put scanning over the people of the hotel. More importantly, over the two souls that he owned.

"That is a good question. What is all this?"

"Oh. Fuck. No, wait. Luci don't."

"Luci? Angel sweetie, have you been fucking our dear King and keeping it from me?"

Fuck. "Val listen-"

"Wow. You're that possessive that you need to know all of his clients when you never bothered to ask in the first place? That's how it started out and now it's much more than that. I've tried to stay out of this because that's what Angel wanted. However, this is the second time you've struck him since we've been together."

To say that Lucifer was pissed was an understatement. The day that Angel came to him after a long day of work to relieve some stress and was sporting a black eye, he was ready to go and teach that Overlord how to properly treat the souls under his care. But he was asked to stay out of it. Was reassured that Angel wanted to get out of this and handle it on his own. Lucifer only backed off when he was promised that the next time something like that or worse happened that he had permission to break the guy's face in.

"Ugh, I'm getting an ache in my neck. You're too goddamn tall. How about you come down to my height?!"

Seeing this side of Lucifer did something to Angel. Small, beautiful, powerful, Lucifer. The King of Hell. Defending him like this. The spider demon couldn't help but feel so loved and cared for.

"Holy shit, Angie. You're datin' the King of Hell and didn't tell me?" Cherri asked, helping her best friend up.

"I'll uh... explain later. Oh shit. Where's Niff?"

"Our dear Niffty was involved in this?" And now Alastor was going to join in the beating. Angel wasn't going to complain. The guy had it coming for a long time.

~

Landing on her butt in the hotel's foyer after Adam forcefully sent them back through a portal, Charlie jumped up and ran over to the group sitting and tending to Angel. Her dad was wiping the blood from his lips to make it easier to heal while Alastor, surprisingly enough, was holding Niffty protectively.

"Dad! You've been dating Angel Dust?! Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't either of you tell me? When did it happen? For how long?" A long string of rushed out questions tumbled from her mouth before Vaggie lightly took her by the shoulders and made her sit down.

"Babe. Give them a chance to answer."

"Wait.... how did you find out? This came out while you were in Heaven."

"Oh. Well. We were watching you guys to prove to Sera and the court that redemption could be possible. Uh... Adam was not happy when he found out... but the rest of the court was pleasantly surprised at how you acted and handled the situation! So, Sera would love for you to join us for our rescheduled meeting."

"Of course she does."

"Hey. It's alright baby. I'll join ya if it'll make ya feel better." It felt good to have their relationship out and in the open now. He should have listened to Lucifer before about just being open about it since the beginning.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

but I'm more than a need

So. What happened was @minky-for-short told me about her idea for a painter Husk/model Angel AU and things spiralled from there. Enjoy!

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of drug use, alcoholism, mentions of sexual abuse

Please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3 if you enjoyed!

--------

Angel Dust had expected this to be easy. Wasn’t it his job to be stared at?

When Valentino had told him his schedule was being cleared of clients two days a week for a ‘special assignment’, his tone had been sickeningly magnanimous, like he expected his star performer to fall to his knees and shower him with thanks at the prospect. And Angel would, if he didn’t know better. 

Being taken off the roster did mean a break from an otherwise endless parade of men with bad breath and bruising hands, reeking of the alcohol they’d needed to overcome their shame at wanting to fuck another man, a break from being so buzzed that he’d disconnect entirely from it all, not noticing how they’d hurt him until he came crashing down. But at least that was the devil he knew, intimately enough to know the taste of its tongue in his mouth. 

Time away from the brothel usually meant that Valentino had something much worse in mind.

So when Angel finally arrived at the address on the card, after trekking across what felt like ten fucking blocks from the spot Valentino had him kicked out of the car, and saw it was an abandoned looking brownstone on a shady street corner, he wasn’t surprised. That part of him that never learned to sit down, shut up and accept his shitty life told him to turn and walk away. 

But whatever was in that house, Valentino would be worse. So he’d gone up, knocked on the door and was thoroughly surprised when a paint streaked, grouchy man appeared, blinking like he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks and growling that Angel was late, did that asshole pimp not know that paint fucking dries? 

And Husker hadn’t stopped surprising him since. 

Angel still rolled his eyes at it. Of course Valentino wanted a fucking portrait of his favourite whore, the creep was probably going to hang it in his bedroom. It was so like him, wallpapering this old money aesthetic over the newly minted wealth he’d gained selling other people’s flesh. Angel wouldn’t even mind that Valentino had made a small fortune pimping him out, or how he spent it, if he didn’t treat him so cruelly. He’d signed on willingly, at first, believing the sugared words and promises of finally being free to fuck how he wanted without shame, of being able to drown the nightmares left over from the war in as many drugs as his body could take. But those promises had dissolved away to nothing on his tongue, leaving his teeth rotted and his nerves shot worse than ever. 

And now Angel’s pain would be immortalized in oils and hung in a gilded frame. 

But at least it would be a proper break. And it would be easy, all he had to do was stand there looking gorgeous, pinned under the gaze of an older man who never had a bottle far from his hand. No different from his usual job except he got to keep his head clear and his clothes on, if the costume Valentino wanted him painted in had enough fabric to count as clothes. 

And it was easy. But not for the reasons he expected. 

There was really only one reason actually and his name was Husker, Husk for short, an odd name but he hadn’t given Angel any other. At first he’d thought it was a good fit, the painter was grizzled, surly, his eyes hard and his tongue sharp, with hands that shook unless they held a brush or a bottle. He was a hell of a far cry from the rich businessmen and upper class bankers who paid for Angel’s time, who tried to impress him with gifts that Val would take and sweet words that didn’t soften their hands any, but apparently his paintings had once sold for thousands. 

Angel couldn’t possibly comment at first, the cramped little studio space had oddly bare walls, but when he’d gotten glimpses of his portrait, he realized just how great Husk must have been back in his day. In nothing more than rough sketches, he was making something almost beautiful out of Valentino’s slightly nauseating ideas. 

Which did beg the question, if Angel Dust was finding this so easy, why was Husk finding it so hard?

“You’re moving again, Legs.”

“Am I fuck…” Angel retorted with a grin, which of course meant he was, in fact, moving. 

“Hey, you want this to look like shit, it’s no skin off my nose,” Husk looked at him over the edge of his glasses, “I got no reputation to maintain.”

“Good look trying to get this to look like shit,” Angel lifted an eyebrow, brushing his hands down the vaguely Grecian drape of silk that was preserving no modesty. The freckles dusting his skin covered more. 

“Don’t underestimate how much I can fuck something up, kid,” Husk grunted, transfering his pencil to the corner of his mouth, picking up an ink brush instead, “I’ve had a lifetime of experience.”

Angel couldn’t help another grin, even as he tried to stay still. That was one of the things he liked about Husk. He didn’t try to be perfect, he didn’t hide his rough edges. 

The way his arm muscles flexed as he drew, looking unfairly sexy now he’d pushed his sleeves to his elbows, Angel liked that too. 

“Next question,” Husk whipped the brush back and forth across the sheaf of paper on his easel, “Think it was your turn, kid.”

Angel blinked, realizing how long he’d been quiet before Husk spoke. It was so easy for his mind to wander here, with the comforting smells of paint and paper, the soothing whisper of sleek bristles on canvas, the warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. And more than anything, the feeling of safety, knowing that quiet here really just meant quiet, come by honestly, not just waiting for the next blow. He’d been embarrassed the first time he’d dozed off in Husk’s studio, his body jumping at the chance for some real rest and shutting down without asking Angel to give the order. 

But after the fourth time of waking up on the battered sofa in the corner with a musty but cozy blanket over him, Angel had found it in him to stop caring. 

But he didn’t want to sleep now. Because as much as he wanted to pretend otherwise, he and Husk were on borrowed time, he was at the edge of this peaceful eye in the storm he lived in. 

The portrait was almost finished, colors starting to appear at Husk’s elbow as the first draft took shape. Soon Angel wouldn’t be needed in the studio anymore, he’d go back to the stage, back to the brothel, back to living under Valentino’s thumb. And Husk would go back to…well, nothing, by the look of his bare, dusty life. The thought made Angel’s heart ache. 

He pushed the thought away, refusing to chew on it. But he wouldn’t sleep away the rest of their time together, either. 

“What kind of music do you like?” he eventually asked. 

Husk chuckled at that, seeming to let his hands create independently, flying across the paper while the rest of him moved at a lower tempo, “Easy, jazz. I used to play when I was younger, actually. There was a club not too far from where I lived, I’d sneak out and go all the time. A guy there taught me, pretty sure just to keep me away from the bar. Looked old for my age back then…and now.”

“Shut up,” Angel perked up interestedly, “What did you play?”

“That’s two questions now,” Husk reminded him, smirking but he answered all the same, “Sax. Was a fun time but I ain’t cut out for being in a band, don’t play nice with others. Realized I was better at making art for the eyes rather than the ears.”

“Makes sense though,” Angel hummed, adjusting the angle of his arm as the silk started to slide, “You paint the way jazz sounds.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he blushed, realizing how dumb it sounded, like he didn’t know shit about art or music. Which he didn’t, but something about Husk knowing that made his face burn. 

But Husk’s eyes brightened, his wry mouth turned up in a genuine smile, “No one’s ever put it quite like that. But thanks.”

Angel had to roll his eyes at himself, just a little. He’d thought crushes were from a time he hadn’t known any better, another thing his hard life had calcified until he couldn’t make it work anymore, that real, genuine attraction had gone the way of imaginary friends and daydreams. But Husk had cracked right through to that giddy, naive part of Angel, he’d let it stretch and unfurl itself and fly. You could argue it was the part that had gotten him into so much trouble but, in Husk’s studio, it didn’t feel dangerous. It was fun again, simple, pleasant. So he let himself stare, he let himself get butterflies, he let himself blush and laugh and embarrass himself. It wouldn’t last, it wouldn’t mean anything but Angel had never been one for saying no to temporary pleasures. Especially ones that made him act like a damn fool. 

“You can ask me two questions,” he hummed with one of his best flirtatious smiles, “Seeing as I snuck an extra one.”

This had been their game for the last month and change. Husk had said he couldn’t paint a stranger, if he was going to put him on canvas then he needed to know him. The thought had got Angel’s back up so Husk had promised it would be an even exchange. He’d ask a question, Angel would answer it and then they’d trade. He’d even said that they didn’t have to be truthful answers, he’d understand enough from whatever lies the younger man chose to tell. 

And they’d started as lies, the standard sanitized version of his past Angel gave to any johns that wanted to fake like they’d taken him on some grand romantic date, rather than paid to fuck him in the tackily decorated back rooms of a downtown bordello. But, without even really noticing, he’d grown comfortable with Husk and the truth started slipping in. Now Husk knew more about him than anyone else left in the city and, Angel suspected, he knew just as much about the older guy. He could taste lies, thanks to his profession, and as far as his tongue could tell, Husk had given him nothing but truth, bitter as it was. 

“Always one to push it, aren’t you, Legs?” Husk chuckled, switching to a different brush, taking a pull from the bottle of amber liquid before continuing to paint. How he knew the difference between that and the water he cleaned his brushes in, without even glancing at them, Angel had no idea.

“You know it, sweetie,” Angel purred, recognising the color Husk picked up as the color of his own eyes, “Ain’t a proper game if you don’t try and bend the rules.”

Husk shook his head in amusement, choosing his questions without a pause, like he already knew which ones he needed to ask to make the next brushstroke perfect, “What was your biggest fear when you were a kid?”

“Before I turned thirteen? Spiders,” Angel wrinkled his nose, though there was an odd fondness to the nostalgic fear, “Nona’s apartment was full of them, I used to be frightened they’d crawl on my face when I slept. But she loves them, even named them all, the mad old bat.” 

“And after?” Husk’s brush hesitated and changed direction at the last moment. 

Angel gave a dry laugh, “Father finding out I was a pansy.”

Husk made a sympathetic noise but there was no pity in it, another point in Angel’s book. He sat back suddenly, frowning, “Come tell me what you think of this.”

Already? It hit Angel like a blow to the chest, enough that he staggered as he stepped off the little platform he posed on, enough that his mask almost cracked, “From your tone, I’m guessing you’re not happy?”

Husk gave a grunt, “Not me who needs to be happy with it…”

“Well it ain’t me either, baby, it’s Val,” Angel let the fabric fall, shrugged on a robe and came around to the other side of the easel. The sudden shock of color and movement on the other side of such a plain, gray nothing hit better than some highs he’d had. 

Angel didn’t know how to talk about art. He’d seen plenty of it when he was shipped out in France but he’d had other things on his mind then, it had all just been set dressing in this brand new world of dizzying highs and terrifying lows. 

So when he saw Husk’s work, he didn’t know how to describe the way it made him feel, he just felt it, in a rush like a wave that took him off his feet. It was the way he took moments in time and fixed them to the paper, turned them into something Angel could actually touch if he wanted, and made them so beautiful in the process. For someone who had so many gaps in his memory, parts of his life eaten away by drugs and pain and terror, it may as well have been magic. 

The painting was gorgeous, that wasn’t the problem. It was just a gorgeous painting of a vindictive, controlling pimp’s sex fantasy. 

When he first started working on this particular commission, Husk had asked Angel if he was really okay with what his boss had requested, showing him the list of demands with a knowing air, the older man fully aware of what answer was true and what answer he would get. And Angel hadn’t surprised him, glancing over what Valentino wanted and saying that whatever he’d asked for, Husk had better deliver. That’s how Angel had kept most of his teeth.

From the way Husk’s eyes had tightened, he hadn’t found the joke very funny.

But Angel knew what he’d see when he looked at the paper but an image in his own mind and something realized in ink and paint, brought to life by Husk’s clever hands, were two very different things. The Angel on the page was much truer to his name, he was angelic, pale skin glowing, freckles scattered across his skin like flecks of gold, eyes bright and blue and innocent behind flaxen hair. But he was a fallen angel, chains securing his hands to some part of the background that Husk would draw in later but, even without it, they looked inescapable, raw chafe marks in a wincing carmine visible below their cuffs. And the fabric looked somehow even less, like a rough hand was in the process of tearing it away to leave him naked and flushed. And there wasn’t a single scar on that perfect, porcelain skin. 

It wasn’t him. It was the role he was supposed to play for Valentino, the fantasy he was forced into. And seeing it in front of his eyes, he could almost feel the weight of those chains on his own wrists and, fuck, they hurt. 

“It’s exactly what he wants,” Angel said truthfully, making himself smile at Husk, “You’ve done a great job.”

But the older man’s frown just deepened, etching the lines around his eyes and mouth more firmly. Angel realized then that he wasn’t looking at the painting, he was only looking at him. 

“It’s shit.”

The sudden sound of the paper tearing away from the pad made Angel flinch but he couldn’t deny there was some catharsis in seeing it crumpled in Husk’s surprisingly strong fist. 

But he was the one who had to fight for his own misery, “Husk, no, it’s good! It’s really good, Val will love it.”

“You don’t,” Husk pitched the failed painting into the dented old furnace he’d light whenever he noticed Angel shivering. 

Angel opened his mouth but no words came out. It wasn’t so easy to lie to Husk as it was to lie to everyone else in his life. 

“That isn’t the point,” he finally managed, “Husk, honey, if you take any longer with this, he’s gonna start getting mad.”

Like it wasn’t already too late. 

He’d seen it in Valentino’s gaze every time he left the club for Husk’s studio, the building jealousy, the brewing sense of danger that Angel was so depressingly familiar with. They were meant to have been done inside a week but that week had rolled on and on, Husk getting to this point in the process, the moment where he should have let Angel go, and then starting over three times now. Every painting had been gorgeous, it had been lecherous, it had been exactly what Valentino wanted, and each one had ended up in the furnace as soon as Husk had seen Angel’s reaction. 

And if his boss’s simmering fury had just been directed at him, he wouldn’t have minded, the daydream was worth it. It was what he’d said about Husk that worried him. 

“It should be the point and I’ll fucking well tell him so,” Husk reached for the bottle again, draining it in one swallow that left his voice a smoky growl, “Valentino can get as mad as he wants, I ain’t scared of that up jumped pimp.”

Panic tasted bitter on Angel’s tongue and sharpened his words, “You should be. If you don’t realize how dangerous he is, you need to learn fast, Husker, because I’ll be damned if I let you get hurt because you stuck up for me. I’m not worth it.”

Husk’s eyes darkened, his voice softening, “You really believe that, kid?”

Angel realized he’d said more than he’d meant to, feeling more naked than he had when there was only a swathe of fabric between him and Husk’s gaze. 

“I have to,” he said eventually, voice trembling ever so slightly, “There ain’t another way through.”

Husk looked like he was going to say something, like there were some words pulling at the tip of his tongue, desperate to fly. But suddenly the fight went out of him, shoulders slumping, the words becoming a low groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I need another drink,” he muttered, “Gimme a second…”

He went into the back room of the studio that served as his living space, that rickety, sagging bed and chipped wardrobe and lopsided bookcase apparently holding all he owned in the world. But Angel knew there were several bottles of whiskey under the bed, enough that he didn’t need to ask whether Husk had served in the war too. Only a soldier needed that much poison to hand. 

Selfish tears threatened to choke him the moment he was alone. He’d done the right thing, he knew he had, but it still hurt like a bitch. He let himself have a moment to almost cry about it before scrubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his robe and moving to the furnace. He’d fish out the draft, he’d tell Husk to use that painting and he’d be done with this. The daydream had been nice but it needed to end, before someone other than Angel himself got hurt. He could see that now. 

There were several balls of crumpled sketchbook paper in the furnace’s grating, he couldn’t remember which one he needed. He came up with a handful of them, as well as an annoying smear of soot on his fingers, pulling a face of irritation as he unrolled one at random. 

And felt his heart stop in his chest. It was a drawing of him but it wasn’t the one he was looking for. 

It was a quick, hurried drawing, like Husk had done it on impulse, something to keep his hands steady or to keep them off the bottle for just a little longer. Angel wasn’t dramatically posed, dressed up in silk, he didn’t look alluring or otherworldly, it was just a sketchy of him from the neck up. He was doing that grin he tried not to do because it made his nose turn up and his teeth look huge but the way it was drawn here, it looked…adorable. Natural. 

He looked so happy. 

It was dizzying, seeing the way somebody else could look at his flaw and find beauty in it. Not Valentino’s warped, fake idea of it but real, actual, honest. Angel didn’t think he’d known the difference before looking at this drawing. 

He knew what he should do. He should drop the sketch back in the furnace, pretend he’d never seen it. He should light it up himself, let that version of himself blacken and curl and become nothing, go back to Valentino and the devil he knew. 

But his hands weren’t connected to his brain, reaching for more balls of paper the way he reached for the next pill or line of white powder, the next bad idea that would be sweet in the moment then do him more harm than good. 

Some pages just had one drawing, some had a few. The sketch of him asleep on the couch was full body but around it were isolated hands, eyes, a smile, every inch of him noticed and practiced until it was perfect. Angel was smiling, he was lost in thought, he was yawning hugely, he was guarded and wary, he was alight with playful mischief. He could match the expressions with memories of the last few weeks, stories he’d told Husk or bad jokes he’d made. Things he’d said and done so offhandedly but apparently they’d mattered enough for Husk to commit them to pencil and paper. 

Finally, after pages and pages of careful studies of himself, he found the draft painting done for Valentino. Seeing them side by side, it was heartbreakingly obvious, like he held night in one hand and day in the other. How he looked to someone who wanted him and how he looked to someone who loved him. Who he had to be and who he wanted to be. Angel Dust and Anthony. 

Angel didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late. 

“I’m sorry, kid, I shouldn’t have stormed off like that, I…Angel?”

He felt his stomach drop, whipping around, arms already drawn to his chest in defense and eyes screwed tightly shut, “I didn’t mean to look, it was an accident, I’m sorry.”

But the blow he’d learned to expect never landed. There was no anger, no explosion, just a long pause where the only sound was the city outside the windows shifting into evening, oblivious to the two of them. 

“Angel…fuck, I’m sorry.”

Surprise made him open his eyes, Husk just leaning in the doorway, slumped like a man too tired to fight anymore. 

“I never wanted to put you in this position,” his voice was rough, heavy, in a way that had nothing to do with the drink, “I swear, those sketches…they were just be trying to get this fucking lunacy out of my system, I was never gonna act on it. I don’t want to be just another deluded old idiot leering at you like he’d got any damn right to.”

“Husker…” Angel breathed, unsure what to do, holding onto the pages of sketches like he was afraid someone would take them away. 

“I just…it’s been so long since I talked with anyone, since anyone wanted to hear what I had to say,” Husk ducked his eyes, wincing, “I shouldn’t have let you in, I should have known better but you’re so…” he shook his head like there weren’t even words but it was there on the page, “I’m an old fool, Angel. That’s all. I’m sorry, I understand if you want to leave.”

Angel felt the weight of the choice. Again, that hard learned fear was pulling at him, telling him what he should do, what was safe, what was smart. Telling him that he didn’t deserve it. But for the first time in his life, he was able to drown that voice out, his grip on the pages, on his hope, tightening. 

“I don’t want to leave,” he murmured, taking a step closer to Husk. 

The older man’s eyes widened, looking like he didn’t know whether to believe what he’d just heard, “What?”

“I want you,” Angel said it again, feeling the truth in it now, feeling it steel himself.

He put the sketches to one side, resting his hands on Husk’s chest, letting himself have what he knew now he’d wanted for so long. Maybe even longer than he’d known Husk. 

“Angel,” Husk’s own hands responded, settling on his hips like nervous birds, “You have a right to know, when your boss came to hire me, he…he offered me you. For a discount he said I could…have you while I worked. And I didn’t take it, I never would but I just…I need to know that this is what you want, not something you feel like you have to do just because I got a stupid crush on you.”

The news didn’t surprise Angel in the slightest, Val had used him as sugar on top of deals plenty of times before. What did surprise him was Husk’s mouth twisting in disgust at the idea, the restraint holding him back until he heard Angel’s answer. What surprised him was finding himself in the arms of a truly honest man. 

“Baby,” he smiled, as big as he wanted to, not caring how it looked, “Believe me, I know what a bad idea this is. I know what I’m risking, I know what I’m asking you to risk. But I’m here anyway, ain’t I? So I know how much I want this, how much I've been wanting you since I walked through your door.”

Apparently that was all Husk needed to hear. His hold on Angel became certain, pulling him that last inch closer until their bodies pressed together, “Then I’m yours, baby. For however long we got.”

The moment their lips met, Angel knew the answer was not long enough. He knew in an instant that he’d never get tired of the way Husk kissed him, of that taste of second hand whiskey and those strong arms around him, feeling safer than anything had for a long damn time. He didn’t hurry, he didn’t want to press forward into the next thing, he just reveled in kissing Angel like if it stopped right there, it would still be enough. Angel found himself nearly climbing Husk, gasping and whimpering in between hurried breaths, nearly screaming when the older man shifted and pressed his leg up between Angel’s. 

“Fuck me,” he moaned desperately, needing Husk more than he needed air, so much he as burning with it. 

“You got the kit for that?” Husk’s voice had become a growl, something Angel felt as much as he heard. 

“I’m taking the fact that you have to ask as a professional insult,” Angel smirked, only the promise of having this man inside him able to make himself let go. 

He scrambled for the bag he’d left in the corner along with his clothes, Husk dropping back on the sofa to wait, warm golden eyes never leaving him. With that gaze pricking pleasantly across his skin, Angel shed his robe, stepping out of the pool of pink silk and coming back to Husk wearing only a lopsided grin. 

“Fuck, look at you, baby…” his hands were as reverant as his gaze, both stroking down Angel’s narrow body, drinking in every freckle and angle and scar with as much adoration as he settled in the older man’s lap. 

“Now you,” Angel tugged impatiently at Husk’s suspenders, “It’s my turn to stare.”

“Ain’t gonna be half as pretty,” Husk warned, the skin on his cheeks darkening a little but he didn’t resist as Angel yanked down the collar of his shirt and pulled open buttons, kicking off his shoes and shoving down his trousers. 

Under the slightly bedraggled clothing, Husk had scars of his own. Everything about him seemed designed to contrast Angel, dark skin where he was pale, strong where he was wiry, thick black hair across his chest and down between his legs where Angel just had a dusting of gold down, the curve of a beer gut where drugs had left Angel nearly concave. 

He wasn’t pretty. He was fucking gorgeous. Angel had to drag a fist across his lips to check he wasn’t drooling. 

Husk’s blush only deepend but now he was grinning rather than looking anxious, “You have weird tastes, baby.”

“Guys who are nice to me? I know, I’m a hopeless degenerate,” Angel cackled, before pressing the small jar into his hand, “I want you to do it…”

“My pleasure,” Husk rolled his hips, letting Angel feel the press of his erection against him, beaming when it made him tremble and whimper hungrily. 

Even slick with Vaseline, Husk’s fingers were fucking big. Angel found himself squealing like a fucking rookie when his hole finally opened for him after a few coaxing strokes, burying his face against the curve of his neck as he pressed inside. But Husk knew his business and in a moment it was bliss and nothing else, making Angel cling to him so fiercely that there would be an impression of the other man’s dog tags on his chest when he pulled away. 

When Husk curled his fingers against that sweet spot inside him, the pleasure took on an edge of panic, almost too much between that blinding pressure and his cock trapped between the warmth of their stomachs, the pre he was spilling like a fountain making it slick and hot. 

“Gonna…fuck, Husk, I can’t hold it…” he gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders. 

“You say that like it’s not the aim, baby…” Husk purred smokily, tongue tracing the curve of his ear. 

“Not like this,” Angel begged, voice strangled as it had to shoulder past gasps and moans and pleas, “On your cock. Need to feel you, wanna make you feel good too…”

The arms around him became soothing, like he was being rocked, Husk shifting to give him what he wanted, “You do, baby. You do. You’re doing so good.”

Those words set his nerves alight as much as the fingers crooked inside him until Angel almost sobbed, “Please…”

“I got you,” the loss of the fingers was heartbreaking until he felt Husk’s cock press against his entrance, thick and hard and hot enough to burn, “Breathe, baby, you’re so tight, you gotta let me in…”

Those strong hands slid down to Angel’s hips, holding tight so he couldn’t force himself back and take him, damn the pain. It was slow, careful, but the reward was all the sweeter for it, Angel’s eyes nearly rolling back as he sat on Husk’s dick, feeling so full he didn’t know how he wasn’t unraveling completely. 

“Fuck…” Husk’s voice cracked, a hand sliding up to tangle in Angel’s hair, the other draping around his hips to keep him close. 

“As good as you imagined?” Angel panted, nuzzling at his shoulder. 

“Better…”

Husk rolled his hips like the sweetest music was playing in his head, purposeful, rhythmic, wanting Angel to feel every inch. At first Angel couldn’t even scream, everything in him utterly surrendered, every cell in his body devoted to chasing after that feeling. But he soon realized he didn’t need to, Husk would give it to him and give it gladly, as sure as the tide. He fucked into him slow but the pace built gradually, leaving Angel free to moan and shriek and beg. He couldn’t let Husk mark him, as much as he wanted it, but he could sink his teeth into him, sucking hard until he’d have something to look at in the morning and feel less lonely. 

Angel knew how to read people’s bodies, he knew they were about to fall. Husk throbbed deep inside him, his own cock was stiff as a board and trembling between their bodies. He wanted to beg Husk to hold on, to wait, just a few seconds more because even those would be sweeter than anything he’d ever get again. But he might as well have wished for the moon. 

So Angel did what he’d always done and took a hand in his own destruction. 

He moved his hips faster, grinding down hard on Husk’s dick and whispered in his ear, “Come for me, baby.”

Husk did, with a yowl like a cat in heat. Angel was a second behind, painting both of their chests and crying out his lover’s name, letting his voice shatter on it. They were both left ruined, gasping, only held together by the other’s arms around them. 

It was a long time before Angel trusted himself to speak, morning back to rest his forehead on Husk’s, “Will you draw me? Like this?”

Husk’s smile was warmth itself, “I’ll do my damndest, baby.”

It came out beautiful. Of course it did. 

Afterwards, when their lovemaking was just an ache in his hips and a slick feeling between his legs, Angel sat back in Husk’s arms and looked at the sketch like he was trying to etch it onto his brain. The pencil version of himself wore Husk’s shirt rather than his own, eyes heavy lidded, his smile crooked and blissfully tired, happier than Angel had thought his own face would ever look. 

Even if the moment had ended for them, he’d always have this. He had this proof that someone had loved him. 

“Can I keep it?” his voice was raw and shaky, “And some of the others?” In case I come to my senses and never see you again. 

Husk kissed the side of his head, squeezed his hand gently, like he’d heard the words left unsaid, “They’re yours. But I’ll draw you better ones if you like? Ones that didn’t spend a few days in the furnace?”

Angel smiled up at him, seeing that some of the soot from his fingers had smudged on Husk’s cheek, “I think these are perfect the way they are.”

“Then they’re a good likeness,” Husk murmured, pressing the next kiss to his lips. 

Angel leaned into it, letting himself have another temporary pleasure, letting himself have a moment to not think about anything but Husk. What he’d do tomorrow, fuck, what he’d do in the next moment, he had no idea. But he wouldn’t think about it now.

“It is stunning, isn’t it, Angel? Who’d have thought the old drunk had some talent left clinging to him…”

Valentino’s voice was full of smug satisfaction and smoke, faintly red billows of it hissing from between his teeth and scratching at Angel’s nose. He didn’t flinch, he’d grown used to it over the years. 

“It’s exactly what you asked for,” he hummed in what would sound like agreement, looking up at the painting now slotted cozily into its new home on the wall of Valentino’s office. 

The frame was a tacky travesty, of course, gilded and overblown but he supposed the image inside was as well. Husk had delivered exactly what he’d been asked, once Angel had convinced him to. It was exactly like the draft piece that nearly ended up in the flames, just more polished and done in rich, sumptuous oils, his wanton blush more rich, his eyes shining brighter, his pose more tempting. Valentino was nearly salivating looking at it. 

“You’ve never looked more tempting, my dear,” he crowded Angel closer, voice almost warm though his hands were like vices on his shoulders, “In fact, I can think of no better advertisement for our little club, you’ll have the deviants of the city flocking to our doors just for a glimpse of this…and then they’ll pay through the nose for the real thing.”

“Yes, Valentino,” Angel hummed, not taking his eyes off the painting.

“I believe I’ll take Mr Husker up on his kind offer, now I know his talent hasn’t faded along with everything else. A few pieces like these in the hallway, my profits could triple…and with the discount he mentioned, well, I don’t know what you showed him or shook in front of him but the old fool’s half in love with you. Very nice work, baby…”

Angel shrugged, gaze still fixed on the painting, “Just a generous guy, I guess.”

“Don’t make me laugh, sweetling, you’re not good at it,” Valentino said curtly, “I want you on stage in ten. With how much time you’ll be spending in that studio, you’ll have to make it up to me. Double shifts for the rest of the week and I don’t want to hear you bitching.”

Angel flinched a little but he didn’t take his eyes off Husk’s painting, not even when the office door closed with a slam designed to put him on edge, “You won’t…”

Of course Valentino hadn’t noticed it. But it was the first thing he’d seen as soon as he’d stepped into the office after Val had called him in so he could gloat over it. Husk hadn’t let him see the final piece, just reassuring him that it was finished and that his boss would be happy with it. And now Angel knew why. 

Valentino didn’t look past the eyes, the beckoning gaze, the perfect body begging to be ruined. But Husk did. And that's why one of the chains in the links that bound the painted version of Angel was cracked. Almost all the way through, about to break entirely, if he just pulled hard enough. Valentino saw him chained but in Husk’s painting, Angel saw himself fighting and, against all the odds, about to win.

It was a nice dream. 

Angel turned away from the painting, thinking about where this had begun. It was supposed to be easy. It should have been easy, it was Angel Dust’s job to be stared at. 

But this was the first time he felt like he’d been seen.