#♠ husk : ic

[helldustedstories]

@hzbinsouled asked: ❝ Y'know... you got a real talent fer playin', Ray. ❞ Anthony starts as he sits near the other. Not too close, but enough; too many prying eyes still mulling about. ❝ It's almost mesmerizin', watchin' ya perform. ❞ The blond admits, letting out a quiet laugh. Idly he twirls something in his hand before he offers it, a fairly pricey cigar he may or may not have nabbed from his father. ❝ Snagged this for ya', by th' way. All yers... ❞ He proposes, though he pauses to look around them again, cautious. ❝ ...Or we could go share it, if ya want. Whattya say... Ray-Ray~? ❞ //*gently places this in here for soulmates au bc i have a NEED*

Ray was always the first musician to arrive each night. And part of that was because he was meticulous about making sure all of the instruments were set up properly, everyone had the music they needed (if they needed it; he certainly didn't), drinks were on hand for between songs, etc. But the bigger, much more important reason was currently across the room, talking with some of the patrons.

He didn't let his eyes linger, though he could have easily watched the other all night, making it look for all the world like he was just taking in the room, the current atmosphere. It was still early enough in the evening that the place was still fairly empty, but there were a few patrons here and there, some he recognized, and a few new faces, too.

After one more sweep of the room, almost solely to let his eyes travel over the blonde once more, he turns his attention to his own instrument, though he'd probably be switching a few times tonight, as needed. Reed in his mouth, he checks over all the valves on his saxophone, making sure they're all in good, working order, oiling anything that needs to be oiled. His sax was one of the things he kept in the best shape possible; it was the whole reason he currently had a livelihood, after all, and he was gonna make sure it stayed in pristine condition.

As his fellow musicians started to file in so they could get tuned up before things actually picked up for the evening, he glanced around the room once more, this time acknowledging Anthony when he saw him with a little nod and a polite smile, though the other would see much more than that in the expression.

But for anyone observing, it was just one of the employees being polite to the boss's kid.

They played a few songs, a full set with the whole band, the way they always started out the evening. Which meant that they had a little bit of a break before they played another. One or two of the musicians would play a solo or a duet, to fill the silence, but they weren't expected to play another full set just yet.

Which was when Anthony approached him, taking a seat a polite distance away from the musician as he looked over his sheet music. He looks up at the other as he speaks, offering him another polite little smile, to keep up appearances.

"It's what got me the job," he quips dryly, little smirk on his face. Apparently Anthony wasn't done, and Ray raises an eyebrow when he notices the blonde fidgeting with something in his hand.

After a moment, Anthony holds out a cigar, which Ray takes from him, "accidentally" allowing their hands to brush as he accepts the gift.

He offers a little shrug at the suggestion, coupled with another polite smile (how he loathed such pretense, necessary as it was). "I got some time before my next set," he replies. "Could use the company," Ray adds, to make sure he's completely clear that, yes, he absolutely does want him to come share it with him, especially when Anthony calls him, Ray-Ray, something that he doesn't accept from anyone else.

Without waiting for a reply from the blonde, Ray gets to his feet, heading out back, where they usually went to smoke, where there was….much more privacy than the middle of the dining room.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

One Last Round

♠ Hazbin Hotel ♠ RadioHusk ♠ Explicit ♠ 2.8

Husk always says that's the last time, every time the fucking Radio Demon comes to find him long after the bar closes. //I've never written a hate fuck...until now XD //

 ♠┈┈♦┈┈❤┈┈♦┈┈♠ 

Husker gathered up glasses from the now empty bar in the Hazbin Hotel lobby. His nails clinked against the cups in the echoing silence after everyone had gone to bed for the night, and he was just glad there wasn’t more  clean up to do. 

For a bunch of damned souls and the Princess of Hell, the little get together had been surprisingly calm. 

No brawls, no property damage, barely any debauchery—though he could have done with a bit more drinking.

“Should be fuckin’ happy they didn’t trash this place.” Husk muttered, wiping down the sticky remnants of mixed drinks and cocktails from the polished wooden surface. “Or the radio fucker’d  have me up all night scrubbin’.” 

He longed for the comfort of his bed and its nest of pillows, his mind already on sleep…so he didn’t notice the shadows gathering across the bar. 

The soft clink of ice in a glass made his ear twitch. Husk’s hackles rose—praying it wasn’t exactly who he thought it was. 

Alastor perched primly on the last bar stool like he’d been there all damn evening. With the dimmed light glinting off those shark’s teeth of his. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Husk yelped, stumbling back into the shelf and sending glasses rattling like bowling pins. “Don’t do that to an old man, you creepy bastard!”

Alastor just chuckled softly behind that never-slipping smile. 

The cat demon’s hair was still standing on end, but he quickly brushed down his arms. Hiding the evidence. As if Alastor needed anymore cause to dig right under his skin. 

Damn smug Radio Demon. 

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Husk growled. “Party’s over. Go haunt someone else’s nightmares.” 

“Oh, my dear Husker,” his voice purred with amusement, propping his elbow up on the bar and his clawed fingers under his chin. “Is that a confession—you do dream of me?” 

Those red eyes glinted with mischief even in the dimmed light. Husk’s fur bristled and his slashing tail betrayed his agitation. 

“Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself.” He grunted, turning back to drying the glasses, before remembering he hadn’t washed them yet. “Ain’t in the mood for your games, Alastor.” 

The Radio Demon cocked both eyebrows above his smirk. 

“Now, now.” He leaned forward on his stool, his voice taking a sing-song lilt.“You are a bartender, are you not? Fix me a drink, my good fellow.” 

Husk’s ears flatted to his head. Gritting his teeth against the urge to tell Alastor exactly where he could shove his drink. 

“What’ll it be?” He growled out instead. 

The other man’s grin widened impossibly further, leaning over the bar as if he could close the distance that Husk was keeping between them. 

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I like, Husker.” Alastor’s voice dropped to a low, intimate rumble that shivered down the cat demon’s spine like a prickle of electricity. 

His tail stilled before he could stop it, and he silently cursed himself and his boss. 

“Ain’t happening,” Husk said gruffly, refusing to meet Alastor’s knowing gaze as he reached for rye whiskey and a clean glass.

He poured a generous measure, neat, just the way Alastor liked it. His eyes followed the glass sliding across the bar, picked up with an elegant twist of his wrist, and bringing it to his lips. Inadvertently locking with Alastor’s predatory gaze. 

Husk’s ears flattened to his head. 

“What’s the matter, old friend? Not fond of your own taste in drinks?” He raised an eyebrow before taking a delicate sip of the rich amber liquid.

Husk swallowed as Alastor did. 

The Radio Demon let out a low, appreciative hum, his eyes never leaving the cat’s face as he set down his glass. 

“Intensely bitter.” He licked his lips, too damn deliberate to be innocent. “Just the way I like it.” 

Husk shook his head to clear it. He hadn’t had enough to be this damn cloudy. With a huff, he turned his back on Alastor and found anything he could grab to occupy his hands. 

“Stop fuckin’ around,” he muttered to the imaginary stain in the glass he was cleaning. His wings twitched as he felt Alastor’s eyes burning a hole through his back. “Ain’t you got better people to torment?”

The air behind him crackled with static. 

Husk froze, feeling his hair stand in waves—he knew what was coming, but he was powerless to stop it. 

The Radio Demon’s presence leaned down over his shoulder. His hot breath ghosted over Husk’s flicking ears as he spoke in a deep, dangerous tone. 

“Oh, my dear Husker. I assure you, ” Alastor purred and Husk’s spine curled with shivers. “When I begin to…fuck around, as you so eloquently put it…” Husk felt his heart stutter, waiting on the demon’s next word. “You will most certainly know it.”

The feathers of his wings puffed involuntarily as Husk stumbled forward, ignoring the surge of want that rushed through his blood as he turned around. 

“I said it ain’t happenin’.” His gruff voice was weak even in his ears. 

Husk searched frantically along the bar, fumbling with bottles and glasses, anything to keep his hands busy and avoid that burning red gaze. 

But Alastor never was one to give up easy. 

“Yes, of course,” he drawled, his presence looming right over the cat’s shoulder and his warmth tantalizingly close. “Just like every  time it wasn’t happening, hmm?” He chuckled softly. 

Husk felt his tail sway with interest—and hit into the other demon’s legs. 

“Just like every time it didn’t happen. Right, darling?”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that.” Husk snapped back, fighting off the memory of every time Alastor pulled out the honeyed words and sweet names. 

His resolve was crumbling, like it happened, every time. 

Husk opened his mouth to bite out some nasty insults, but the words died in his throat as he felt something terribly, wonderfully familiar. Alastor’s long, slender fingers threading through his fur. 

The demon’s touch was gentle but deliberate, claws drawn perfectly down Husk’s back with practiced ease. 

“What was that, my dear Husker?” Alastor grinned at his ear. 

Husk bit into his lip, desperately trying to stiffle the purr building in his chest, but his back was arching into Alastor’s hands. 

“Fuckin’ bastard,” Husk growled without an ounce of venom. “Y’know exactly what you’re doin’.”

“Of course I do,” Alastor replied, his grin clear in his voice. “I know you better than anyone, old friend.”

Alastor’s fingers continued their ministrations, finding all the spots that made Husk’s resolve crumble. The cat demon’s wings twitched, feathers rustling as pleasure as a soft, rumbling purr escaped his throat. 

This dangerous little habit he’d gotten into. But the high of giving into Alastor was as addictive as booze—a bet he thrilled in losing. 

He should push the bastard off and tell him to fuck off. 

“Dammit,” Husk gritted out. 

Alastor’s ears stood straight up at the sound of the demon’s resolve breaking. His fingers drew up along the cat’s back, pushing the suspenders off his shoulders and letting them fall loose without a scrap of resistance. 

Letting Alastor know he’d won. 

The Radio Demon leaned down, his hand stroking down Husk’s chest and belly as he leaned to his ear, cooing heatedly. “There’s a good kitty.” 

“Fuck—” Husk gasped out as Alastor cut him off with a bite to his sensitive ear. The cat’s body responded in an instant, a wave of arching arousal that nearly burned the rest of the fight out of him.“—you.” 

Alastor simply chuckled, his breath hot against Husk’s neck. 

His long-fingered hand curled around the tent straining at the other demon’s pants, dragging a strangled groan from the old cat. 

“How about one last round for the evening?” Alastor hummed, gripping the nape of Husk’s neck as he palmed his arousal. “You know I will make it worth your while.” 

Husk growled, but nothing in him wanted to resist the wicked treatment Alastor gave. 

“Stop tryna be slick,” he growled as his hips bucked forward. “And get on with it.” 

“Certainly!” Alastor’s grin was impossibly wider as he snapped his fingers. 

Husk grunted as he was shoved forward by the shadow tentacles that had started to pool around his ankles. Suddenly, his bare ass was on the bar top, his pants gone, and his legs spread like a damn invitation. 

The curses died on his tongue as Alastor leaned over him with a predatory grace, dragging his tongue in a hot, wet line down the pink skin of his cock. 

“Slick, did you say?”

“Don’t fuckin’ tease—” Husk’s words dissovled into a choked moan as Alastor took his cock into his mouth. 

The cat’s claws gripped the edge of the bar, leaving grooves in the wood as the other demon worked over his length. He never felt the edge of those teeth—but he certainly felt the slide of that silver tongue. 

“Cocky bastard.” Husk huffed, wriggling against the tendrils that kept him still. Alastor’s laugh vibrated through him, making the cat shudder. 

A slick tentacle materialized between them, sliding up between Husk’s thighs until it found his furled hole. The old man squirmed against the slithering, gasping as he felt the tip press inside and start to stretch him as Alastor continued his ministrations. 

Husk slipped his nails into the demon’s hair, knowing full well he was taking his life into his hands when he pulled at the deer ears. Alastor snarled against him, but never drew his mouth back. 

Even as his claws sank into the shelf behind the bar. 

The tentacle writhed inside Husk—until it hit that spot that put every hair on end as pleasure rocketed through him. His wings flared wide, knocking Alastor’s forgotten whiskey glass across the room. 

A shadow caught it. 

“Careful darling,” Alastor chuckled, taking the glass the tendril brought to his hand. “We wouldn’t want to make a bigger mess for you to clean up, would we?” 

The Radio Demon smirked, licking his lips as he took a casual sip of his whiskey. 

“You’re a real smug son of a—” 

Alastor cut his retort off by dropping his mouth back onto Husk’s cock. Until it and the tentacle were leaving him a gasping, trembling mess on the bar top. Desperate for more than the agonizingly slow stretch. 

“You plannin’ on taking all damn night?” Husk growled, his tail thrashing wildly. 

Alastor’s eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as he raised the whiskey glass to his lips. “My, my. Impatient, aren’t we?” He took another leisurely sip, savoring Husk’s growing agitation. “Good things come to those who wait, dear Husker.”

“For fuck’s sake, Al,” Husk muttered, his wings twitching with each movement of the tentacle.

With a flick of the Radio Demon’s wrist, the neon green chain materialized around Husk’s throat, making his yellow eyes go wide. 

Alastor wrapped the links around his fingers, and then yanked Husk forward. 

Their lips crashed together. 

The taste of whiskey flooded Husk’s senses, familiar and intoxicating, making him lean in desperately for more. 

 ♠┈┈♦┈┈❤┈┈♦┈┈♠ 

As their lips parted, Husk panted heavily, his breath mingling with Alastor’s. The Radio Demon’s eyes sparked deviously, and the tentacle within Husk writhed in response.

“Ya gettin’ on off on bein’ a fuckin’ tease?,” Husk accused, his voice hoarse.

“I like it when you’re…feisty” Alastor smirked, his fingers tracing the edges of the chain around Husk’s neck. “And I’d be happy to let you go without, if you’d rather not play my game.” He said, with an air of faux sweetness.

Husk let out a sound of pure irritation, the tentacle still squirming inside him as others held his legs and wings in place. 

He hated the way Alastor could turn him on and then toy with him like this. 

Husk knew he was powerless against Alastor, and his wicked charms. A habit he couldn’t kick. 

The cat let out a frustrated groan, his body tensing as the tentacle brushed his sweet spot once again. He knew Alastor wouldn’t let him come, not yet at least, even as he grabbed desperately for the man’s lapels. 

“I can wait you out, Husker.” Alastor sang to him. 

“Fuck you.” Husk gritted back. 

“You wish.” Alastor intoned as he took another long, luxuriating sip of whiskey. 

Husk hissed, trying to hold back the moans that threatened to escape. He didn’t want to give Alastor the satisfaction—didn’t want to give in to his game.

But every nerve ending was on fire, and the tentacle inside him was edging into him. As Alastor just sat back, and smiled, and smiled…

And Husk couldn’t take it anymore. 

He grabbed the glowing chain with both hands, and pulled the other demon flush against him. “Fuck me already.” He demanded in a desperate whisper. 

“What was that, old friend?” Alastor taunted, inches from Husk’s nose. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Husk was about to rip his own fur out. He struggled against the shadows holding him, trying to tug the immovable Alastor forward. “Fine! I want ya to fuck me ‘til I can’t see straight. Fuck—please!” 

Alastor’s smile stretched across his face. “With pleasure.” 

The chain vanished, and the Radio Demon’s hand wrapped around Husk’s throat. 

His yellow eyes went wide as his back was pinned against the bar, but he only struggled when he felt the teasing tentacle withdraw—only to let out a low hum as he felt Alastor’s cock slide inside him at last. 

“Fuck…” Husk grabbed at the demon’s wrist, trying to steady himself as the other finally began to move. 

It was slow, deliberate, dragging the bliss from him with every thrust. 

But Husk wanted more. 

“Fuck you and the things you do to me.” He tried to snarl through his husky voice and the hand just holding on to his neck. 

“Always a pleasure,” Alastor chimed, his voice dripping with saccharine charm to Husk’s roiling frustration. “To hear such delightful vulgarity.” 

 Husk could feel his orgasm building, but he knew Alastor wouldn’t let him come yet. Not until he was good and ready.

“Faster,” Husk demanded, his voice strained. 

And he hated the fucking laugh that answered him. 

“Relax Husker,” Alastor purred, “We’re not done yet.”

With a snap of his fingers, Husk found himself face down behind the bar.  Alastor’s cock was back inside him before he could protest the loss. Fucking him hard and fast. 

Husk mewled. And he’d be mortified—if he could give a fuck beyond the feeling of Alastor’s cock hit his sweet spot again and again.

The Radio Demon’s claws and arms were elongate and caging him in, his wings and his legs still bound in shadows, and…ragged, panting breaths were at his ear.

Husk was surrounded. Consumed by Alastor. The sick fuck that owned every inch of him. 

The cat demon cursed the last thought he had before he tumbled over the edge. He let out a low growl, his body shaking as he squeezed around Alastor’s cock. 

Husk collapsed onto the bar, his body spent. 

 There were fingers running through his fur, soothing him as he caught his breath.

Husk lay there, panting heavily, still trembling from the bliss that had just ripped through him. He could feel Alastor’s own release, hot and wet inside him. 

The other’s weight was still on top of him, the radio demon’s chest heaving against his back as he struggled to catch his breath.

Alastor’s fingers were running through Husk’s fur, gently tracing patterns along his spine. It was almost soothing, and Husk found himself relaxing into the touch.

“Don’t get sweet on me now.” 

Husk let out a low growl, too damn tired to flatten his ears to his head—even as his tail curled around the man’s waist from behind. He could feel Alastor’s breath hot against his neck, the Radio Demon’s lips grazing his skin as he spoke.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, old friend.” Alastor chuckled. 

Husk let out a huff of laughter. “Get the fuck off me,” he muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words.

Alastor chuckled, his fingers stilling for a moment before resuming their gentle stroking. “Always so charming, aren’t you?”

Husk rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest as Alastor continued to touch him. He could feel the Radio Demon’s length was still inside him, growing hard again—damn demonic powers. 

And he knew that Alastor wasn’t done with him yet.

 For now, he was content to lie there and let Alastor pet him like a cat. It was almost...nice.

And when Alastor was ready for round two, Husk would be ready to fight him every step of the way. 

[elxsticlxve]

{ic}  Anonymous inquired;-- A small man with yellow hair and pointed ears makes his way over to Hisoka, his hair done up in a smooth spike as if trying to emulate him but unfortunately not having the skill to pull it off, regardless he makes his way to the magician with haste. "By Azura! By Azura! By Azura! It's the Grand Floor Master! I can't believe it's you! Standing here, next to me!"

❣≽  

The response came quickly- almost like a natural reflex. Something reminiscent of how one reacts upon seeing a bug in their personal space.

 The magician’s hand sores towards the throat of the insect; two digits extended with a trusty card nestled between them. Once the card was close enough to feel the warmth of its victim, Hisoka flicks his wrist upward. He drives the card into his chin rather than his throat; and with a further tug upward, he drives the makeshift blade through not only his chin but past his lips, then his nose, clearing past the eyes and through his skull. Splitting the stranger’s head clean in two before he could shriek another praise. Blood spraying from the gash in the stranger’s features as they fell with a loud and sickly sweet 

T H U D

“Hmm--- ♦ ”

Hisoka hums, standing over the deceased as he drove the thin heel of his shoe into the side of the fool’s shoulder, giving it a healthy push to flip the lifeless husk over. He didn’t care for the dead, but the sudden appearance of the gnat and its swatting made him take a momentary interest this one time. He hummed yet again in a lower tone while looking down at mangled features. 

“I’m not quite sure why-- but I couldn’t help but feel this pinch of disdain towards you the moment you appeared before me . . ♦ ” Hisoka flicks his wrist once more; the card in his hand seemingly vanishing as he did so. “How odd. ♠ “ The magician mused once more before turning on his heel to make his exit. It didn’t matter who that was, or why they made him feel volatile by the very sight of them. They were dead now, and no longer of any sort of substance. Though, he had a feeling they never were to begin with anyway.

Oh well. . bye-bye now.

[helldustedstories]

@vanaglcria asked: ❛ see? i’m not just a pretty face. ❜ / kasumi @ husk

200 random dialogue prompts // accepting

When you ran a casino, things were bound to get a little …. heated. Husk was perfectly well prepared to deal with those who tried to cheat, as well as those who tried to distract by starting a fight, hoping that they'd get away with a lesser infraction when they were inevitably caught.

But they'd not dealt with him before. He could sniff out cheaters a mile away, and he hadn't been wrong once, not since he'd become an Overlord, not since he finally had the power, the upper hand in his own casino.

He'd noticed the fox demon coming in a few times, and she'd seemed to be enjoying herself, playing quite a few hands, winning some, losing others, but usually in pretty good spirits. She had seemed pleasant enough when he'd dropped by her table to make sure everything was as it should be, though she was harder to get a read on than most. Still, as long as she behaved, she would be welcome. But the moment that changed, he had quite a few resources at his disposal, and he would take care of her if that happened.

Today had started out like any other day: performers took the stage when they were supposed to, the servers were making their rounds, and his contracted employees were doing the jobs that were expected of them.

Things changed quickly when some fuckface pulled out a gun they'd managed to sneak onto the floor. Someone was going to have to pay for that, someone who hadn't done their fucking JOB.

Instead of going for one of the many guns stashed around the place, Husk pulls out a deck of cards tucked neatly into his jacket, readying a few of them. He'd just been about to throw one, to at least get the fucker's attention when the gun wasn't in his hand anymore and the fox demon had his arms pinned behind his back.

He raised an eyebrow, offering a slow smirk at her words. "I never underestimate a pretty face," he responded, taking a moment to glance over his shoulder, snapping his fingers. Two bouncers for this particular area came rushing over, to take the would-be assailant away, so Husk could deal with him later.

Husk offered her a hand to help her back to her feet, smirk still on his lips. "I owe you at least a drink after that, Miss….?" he questioned, leading her over to the main bar before slipping behind it himself. His bartenders were perfectly capable of making her a drink (they wouldn't be here, otherwise, even if he did own their souls), but she'd just saved him a lot of hassle; the least he could do was make her drink himself.

[helldustedstories]

"Great. As if one fuckin' Angel wasn't enough around here."

[helldustedstories]

@vanaglcria asked: Vaggie just. sprays Husk in the face with a spray bottle full of water.

Unprompted!

Husk had been trying to get a few things done around the bar: cleaning glasses, wiping down the bar itself, making sure it was stocked, the way it was supposed to be (fuck, the people around here drank almost as much as he did, fuck's sake), when Vaggie sprayed him in the face.

His fur stood on end even as he glared at her, an involuntary hiss leaving him before he snapped, "The fuck was that for?"

[helldustedstories]

@madefate asked: The show must go on! / charlie @ husk

Moulin Rouge sentence starters // accepting

He's not sure why he agreed to this. It had been such a long time since he'd actually performed doing anything other than trick bartending. And he'd been doing that for so long that he could practically do it in his sleep. But doing a magic show? In front of everyone at the hotel? People whose opinions he actually gives a shit about now? Husk must have lost his mind when he'd said yes to Charlie's suggestion.

The closer it got to the actual day, the more he thought he should just call it off, but he saw Charlie's face whenever she came across him practicing or looking his direction when she thought he wouldn't notice. She was just so excited, and he hated how much he didn't like the idea of disappointing her.

And then the day itself arrived. He was so rusty; this was going to be a disaster. Maybe he should just find Charlie and tell her he couldn't do it. It wasn't as though they had some sort of sold out venue; it was just the people who lived here (at least that was what had been pitched to him), and they would forgive him, right? Why did he actually care about that?

But then Charlie dropped by, all smiles and encouragement, to wish him well before the show. And she dropped that line that all performers knew and took to heart: the show must go on.

Because Husk knew that if he backed out now…., it might be the last chance he had to actually perform. If he didn't go on tonight, he would always find excuses.

So he manages something of a smile for Charlie, even though he's more nervous than he has been in a very long time.

"Thanks, kid," he responds, and he means it. "You better go find your seat if you don't wanna miss anything."

And after taking one more, final deep breath, Husk steps through the curtain of the makeshift stage, to perform his first magic show in what feels like forever.

[helldustedstories]

@madefate asked: ❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜ / niffty @ husk!

an assortment of dialogue prompts // accepting

Despite the fact that there weren't that many people at the hotel, and he almost always had at least some alcohol in his own system, Husk did actually care about being a bartender. It certainly wasn't his dream job or anything, but it was something he knew well and he was good at.

So he kept the bar clean, organized, and (relatively) well-stocked. He even deep-cleaned at least once a week (though depending on what happened in the hotel, sometimes it was more frequent, and he grumbled the whole time he did it), which happened to be today.

All the bottles came out from under the bar, and he scrubbed down all the shelves, to make sure the bug problem didn't extend to his area of the hotel. He might be a washed-up drunk, but he'd be damned (again) if he let fuckin' bugs take over his bar. Unless it was specifically so Niffty could deal with them. Then he'd be more willing to tolerate them, at least for a period of time.

He'd just finished putting all the stock back where it belonged when, before he could stand up, he felt a very familiar weight on his head. His hat was currently on top of the bar, which meant that Niffty was just standing directly on him.

His ears had pinned back at the initial contact, but once he realizes that it is Niffty, he relaxes at least a little bit.

He lets out a little huff as she fusses with his fur, but he's much less likely to just tell her to fuck off than he is most other people. "Couldn't have waited until after I finished all this, Niff? It's just gonna get all messed up again."

[helldustedstories]

@hzbinsouled

He swats Angel with his tail as he walks by, smirk on his face. "Don't think you're off the hook, Legs."

[helldustedstories]

@hzbinsouled asked: ❝ Ya can hold him if y'want, y'know. He ain't gonna bite. ❞ The spider is biting back a giggle as he holds out Fat Nuggets in offer to Husk. The demon piglet is already trying to sniff the other out, investigating but interested. ❝ I think he likes ya. ❞ A pause, and he gives Husk a little smile. ❝ I know I do.~ ❞ //did you technically ask for this? perhaps not but *plops down cuteness anyways* :3

semi-unprompted (in which I definitely did ask for this)

Angel actually had the night off, and everyone else was off doing their own thing for a change. The two of them had planned a movie night, to take advantage of the relative quiet, and Angel had brought his pet with him.

"It's not him biting I'm worried about," Husk grumbles, tail flicking behind him, but he takes the piglet from Angel anyway, not quite managing to hide the little bit of a grin on his face. He hadn't been a big pet person, but he has to admit, Fat Nuggets is kinda cute, in that weird sort of way pigs were. And if he made Angel happy, he could be that bad, could he?

The second part of Angel's statement catches him a bit more off-guard; he hadn't been prepared for the other to just….come right out and say he liked him, especially not so casually.

Then again, he could be reading too much into it; they were friends, after all, and you were supposed to like your friends, right? That had to be all he meant, surely; there was no way Angel had any feelings for him beyond friendship.

He pulls a little grin onto his face, patting Fat Nuggets as he looked over at Angel. "You're not too bad yourself, Legs."

Husk takes a moment to stretch his wings before settling them more comfortably behind him. "So, what did you pick this time? And I swear to fuck if it's another rom-com….," Husk trails off, customary glare once more present on his face…., but Angel knows him well enough by now to see through the bluster. Husk had found that he genuinely enjoyed watching movies with Angel, and most of the time it didn't even matter what it was.

[helldustedstories]

@madefate asked: ❛ so why’s it so important anyway? ❜ / niffty @ husk!

200 random dialogue prompts // accepting

It had taken Husk time to find a decent saxophone down here, and it had cost a hell of a lot, but provided it actually worked, it was gonna be worth it in the end. He'd been indulging his vices; maybe it was time to lean into one of his other skills, one he'd neglected for too long.

"Ah, shit, this place really must be rubbin' off on me," he muttered to himself as he pulled the instrument out of its case. It was in good shape, but it still needed a good clean and polish before he could test it out.

He reached beneath the bar and pulled out a clean rag and some homemade brass polish that he'd made sure Niffty knew was off limits. Granted, it wasn't that hard to make or come by; it was just a bitch when he had to do it right when he needed it.

Even though it had been a while since he'd properly cleaned or done a tune-up on a sax, he still remembered how. It had been one of the things he made sure to do himself, especially when he was down on his luck and relied on his playing to keep him in some sort of room and board.

Husk heard Niffty's approach before he saw her, and before she could say anything, he grumbled out, "Still not for you, Niffty."

"So why's it so important anyway?" she asked him, the whine in her voice almost making him wince.

He let out a long sigh, putting down his rag and picking up the little container of cleaner he'd made. "This," he waggled it back and forth before replacing it on the bar, "is the shit I gotta use for this," he indicated the saxophone in front of him, "And I ain't got time to make it every time you swipe it out from under me."

[helldustedstories]

Anonymous asked: smash or pass + angel for husk?

smash or pass? // accepting

His ears are flat to his head and he'd been letting out a little growl at the idea of this whole game. He doesn't like it when people pry into his personal affairs--but at the mention of Angel's name, his expression visibly softens.

"……yeah, okay," he says, and it's barely more than a grumble. "Him I'd smash."

[helldustedstories]

@hzbinsouled asked: ❛  i was feeling very off today but then you turned me on.  ❜ ~angel @ husk (trying to joke when he's actually had a really shitty day ha....)

Husk is used to the shit drinks and shittier jokes by now, so he's prepared to turn to Angel and reply that maybe he should try the light switch, see if that helped him out, when he saw his expression. It is immediately and painfully clear to the bartender that the joke falling from Angel's lips is a front, a way to try to get people not to see beyond the persona, the way he'd done so often before.

Without another word, Husk slides the drink he'd had waiting across the bar to the other sinner, raising one fluffy red eyebrow in his direction.

"You wanna talk about it? Or you want a distraction?" Because sometimes the last thing Angel needed was someone else prying into his affairs. He could handle himself if he needed to, and while Husk wanted to offer him support, he also didn't want to overstep. There was a certain distance he needed to maintain, especially now.

But offering a listening ear was something he could do, something he was very good at. He was very good at reading people, after all, and while he didn't always have the solution (didn't tend to offer advice, even when it was asked for), sometimes getting it out in the open was enough to make a difference.

Fuck, when was the last time he'd actually wanted to help someone? It had been a long time, he's pretty sure. Sure, he'd "helped" people as an Overlord, offered to help them set their burdens down, taking their souls in the meantime, but the last time he'd genuinely offered assistance, no strings attached, no expectations?

He honestly couldn't remember, at this point.

Oh, sure, there might have been a couple of moments since this whole hotel had opened up, but it wasn't the same. People saw him as the grumpy bartender, and it wasn't exactly a stretch. He fulfilled that role, drinking what he wanted, until he'd realized he'd started to care about this group of unlikely characters.

So while most of the time, his offer to listen to other people's problems is more of an expected thing, and he'll sometimes listen with a cursory amount of effort, his offer to Angel is much more genuine.

[helldustedstories]

@helluvaflames asked: "No, it's bad, but I'm. Like. I'm fine. Just give me like ten minutes." Angel to Husk.

crazy ex-girlfriend starters // accepting

For the most part, Husk doesn't go out of his way to interfere in other people's lives. As a bartender, people sometimes involve him in situations he'd rather not deal with, but it doesn't usually go beyond talking about them.

But after everything that had happened with Angel, he's been keeping an eye out for the spider, doing what he can to make sure he gets back safe, even if that's really all he can do. Husk is under no illusions that he has any ability to actually do anything about Angel's situation, and even if he did, it's unlikely Angel would want him to do anything anyway. Charlie had already tried that, and had only made things worse.

So instead, Husk watches, and whenever Angel seems to be having a particularly hard time of things, he does what he can from the hotel. Whether that's fixing him a drink, listening to his stories, or whatever else.

Today, though, he'd seen how rough Angel looked. Husk frowned as Angel headed right to his room, without so much as acknowledging the bartender, which wasn't like him. Even when he'd had a bad day, he usually at least waved, even if he didn't stop for a chat or a drink.

He'd knocked on his door, and the response he got was less than encouraging.

"No, it's bad, but I'm. Like. I'm fine. Just give me like ten minutes," Angel calls out, and Husk's frown deepens.

"Can I at least get you somethin'?" he asks, keeping his voice level and even. Angel doesn't need his anger right now; what he needs is for someone to offer him support. And Husk is going to try to do that, as much as Angel will let him.

[helldustedstories]

@vanaglcria asked: “I am a thousand treacherous things” / kasumi @ husk

Nikita Gill's fierce fairytales // accepting

While Kasumi wasn't the last person Husk would have expected to show up to the Hazbin Hotel, she was certainly pretty high on the list. He knew how much she liked playing games, and it was entirely possible that this was just one more that only she knew the rules to. But it wasn't his place to say anything; he was just the bartender.

She'd been here for about a week now, and they hadn't exactly spoken one-on-one; there was always someone else hanging around the bar or within earshot. And he figures if he's reuniting with someone he knew in his Overlord days, it should probably just be the two of them.

Which looked like it was about to be now.

Charlie had everyone else out doing some….well, he's not sure what, but he'd been exempt this time so he could stay back and watch the hotel. Someone needed to these days, and he'd been deemed best for the job on this particular day. He didn't doubt that Charlie would see the error of her ways soon enough, but he'd take advantage of her mistake for now.

So this time, when Kasumi sits down at the bar, he has her drink ready for her. He pushes it across the bar, even as she speaks.

"I am a thousand treacherous things," is what she has to offer, the first time they've spoken since his Overlord days.

And for a minute, he just stares at her, one eyebrow raised, taking her words in, processing them, making sure he'd actually heard what the fuck she'd said correctly. But no, he had heard what she said, hadn't mistaken it for anything else.

Something of a smirk slips onto his face as he leans on the bar near her, taking everything in, noticing any subtle differences from the last time they'd talked.

"Good to see you haven't changed," he offers, and there's an undercurrent of amusement in his words. That made one of them. Though he has to wonder what she'll think of him now, considering she hadn't much liked overlords to begin with. She might even like the change in his circumstances, something else that made him want to snort. It would be just like Kasumi to be contrary just because she could.

[helldustedstories]

@hlylight asked: “ I am not merciful, and I am not kind, and l am not afraid to make you wish that I was. ” Angel @ Husk

quotes found on pinterest // accepting

Husk had kept the bar open longer than usual tonight, waiting for Angel to get back from work. He was normally back by now, which meant he'd probably had a particularly bad day. Since he didn't sleep much anyway, Husk stayed at the bar, nursing his drink as he reorganized the booze and cleaned the bar for the….he's actually not sure of the number of times he'd done this tonight, actually. But it gave him something to do that he didn't have to think about.

But when Angel comes through the doors looking practically dead on his feet, Husk can't help but frown a little even as he pushes the drink he'd already prepared across the bar.

Before he can say anything, Angel speaks, and Husk raises an eyebrow at his words, leaning back against the bar as he crosses his arms over his chest. There was a lot more to Angel than Husk had initially given him credit for, and he understood him a lot more than he had when they'd both first started at the hotel. A lot of the persona Angel presented was a mask, a defense mechanism, something that Husk could understand. So to hear him talk like that about himself, especially when he'd been doing okay recently, makes Husk's fur stand on end.

"Did somethin' happen that you don't wanna talk about?" he asks, trying to force himself to relax. If Angel didn't want to tell him, shouldn't that be his business? Angel was entitled to keep things to himself. Husk was still trying to find that balance between pushing just a little for some sort of answers and respecting the warning signs that Angel was displaying.

Because sometimes, those signs could present one thing on the surface while the real meaning was beneath it. Husk was usually pretty good about telling the difference, but he didn't want to push too much with Angel; he already had enough people that ignored his boundaries, and Husk wasn't about to add to that list.