#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Sir Pentious 」

[burning-fcols]

(Sir Pentious to Angel Dust) “Do you have a particular reason for trying to bother me?” - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴅᴀʀᴋ-ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Lower hands resting on his hips, upper ones briefly consider throwing the bowl of Risotto as soon as that snippy statement is out of the serpent's mouth. But that'd be a waste of good food... and of a good gesture. One that Charlie had nearly passed-out from excitement over when Angel explained where he was going with the huffily made bowl. Go figure, he puts in the effort of ensuring these people have a decent meal and they don't even all show up. Not that Angel had made an announcement of it or anything, but still... Did Pentious even PLAN on eating today?

According to everyone else, no one has even seen him.

Frankly, Charlie is getting worked up over nothing. So he decided he doesn't want his cooking to go to waste. So what? If getting the satisfaction of proving to these people that he's skilled at more than sex happens to include keeping Pentious from starving himself, then fine... But it's not like that was the point of it all.

❝ Yeah. It's called I cooked somethin' fuckin' delicious an' yer gonna eat it. ❞ Angel dryly retorts as he stalks his way to the other man, shoving the bowl of food into his arms without paying heed to any objections. Unsure exactly WHAT it is that has the snake so busy ( looks complicated though ) , he figures it can wait. How high-quality could his work possibly come out if he's half-starved anyway? A sentiment that Angel doesn't exactly live by, often pushing himself to the same state as Pentious.

Crossing his arms, hip slightly cocks to the side as he firmly states, ❝ An' don' give me any of that ❛ I ain't hungry ❜ bullshit, 'cause I know you haven' eaten t'day. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[burning-fcols]

❛ for being someone you hate, i'm certainly on your mind a lot. ❜ (Sir Pentious to Angel from the rivals to lovers sentence starter) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴅᴀʀᴋ-ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 When Pentious had first arrived, Angel hadn't expected him to last as much as a week... Well-meaning as Charlie can be, the Princess isn't exactly EASY to be around. Cotton-candy-sweetness can be a lot to stomach if one isn't accustomed to it. Or even when they are. Not thinking Pentious as the type to contain the patience needed for it, Angel had overlooked one crucial factor of the serpent's personality. His absolutely-infuriating STUBBORNNESS. An ability to keep bouncing back like a cockroach on steroids when things don't go his way.

Honestly, Angel would respect it... if it didn't involve Pentious slithering around the hotel indefinitely.

Now that enough time has passed for it to be obvious Charlie is too forgiving to kick him out and Pentious is too smart to give up free room-and-board, Angel wishes he'd kept his cards closer to his chest regarding the serpent. It'd be so much easier to pretend he's unbothered, rather than having the other man KNOW what a difficult adjustment this is proving to be. And therefore, calling him out on it. Especially if it's with this weird— he can only assume ❛ smug ❜ —undertone.

That's HIS fucking schtick.

❝ Don' flatta' yerself, baby. ❞ Unlike with others, the nickname flows off his lips as more of an ingrained dialect than a genuine attempt at flirting. Finger toys with the rim of his drink, absentmindedly tilting the empty glass back and forth on its edge as he scoffs, ❝ We jus' live in close quarta's, that's all. Kinda hard NOT ta think about ya when yer slitherin' right in my face all th' time... ❞ Flicking the glass with his finger, it noisily rattles on the counter before settling in place.

Standing up while the glass steadies itself, Angel dons a familiar smirk and half-lidded gaze, as if trying to show how a PROFESSIONAL prods at someone he hates. Fingertips graze the countertop as he takes a few calculated steps toward Pentious, movements hold none of the enticing sway they normally do. They are smooth... Steady. Confident in a way one would be when entering a battle of wits, rather than trying to take someone off-guard sexually. Honestly, Angel doesn't pay this shift in demeanor any mind. It coming naturally when dealing with HIM.

❝ Y'know... ❞ He begins as he makes his approach; not intending to be threatening... merely- unfazed. ❝ I ain't even th' one who started this li'l conva'sation. ❞ Smirk upturns his lips, razor teeth on display as he stops only to lean a bit closer into the snake's personal space and quietly quip, ❝ Sounds like YER th' one who can't stop thinkin' 'bout me. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[burning-fcols]

"...Henry." The snake demon stated suddenly after a moment of silence between him and the spider. "My name was Henry when I was alive. B-But only you can call me that. Okay?" (Pents @ Angel when they're on friendlier terms) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴛʜᴇᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴꜱxxxᴄʀᴇᴡ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 It's odd... Having silence be comforting.

Going through the events of the day, Angel is surprised to find that— for the most part —they're pleasant, and Pentious plays no small part in this. Which is perhaps even MORE surprising, Angel having spent many nights lying awake in bed ( not uncommon ) wondering HOW he managed to end up... here. With someone he can be quiet with. No crude jokes, no overcompensation, no ❛ Angel Dust ❜ to fill whatever void dares rear its head in his presence. ( very uncommon )

When one is around the spider, holes are meant to be FILLED... both figuratively and literally. There's no time for quiet or— thankfully —for thinking. It's not what people are interested in and Angel has gotten good at feigning accepting disinterest in that as well. But with Pentious, he can sit. And breathe. And exist. And it doesn't hurt... How long has it been since things genuinely DIDN'T hurt?

Angel can't decide whether he should be terrified or elated.

Pentious's admission threatens to make that decision for him. Stiffening with a catch of breath, fur bristles with an instinctive unease that shoots to his very core— Angel shoving it aside with an internal venom —before it slowly settles back into its usual fluffy texture, wide eyes still transfixed upon the snake. Mouth slightly agape at being bestowed with such open trust, lips curl into a small wry smile as it occurs to him that he should meet it with some truthfulness of his own... only to then immediately be compelled to lie. To give a fake name as a mockery of confiding, wanting to take advantage of the emotional moment— to make Pentious feel validated in what he's trying to do —without any actual risk. As if there's such a thing.

Like the truth wouldn't have to come out eventually, should things continue down this unprecedented path. Does he even believe in that? By lying in this moment, he'd be guaranteeing his own demise. Stomping out the chance of future happiness beneath a self-destructive heel... What else is new?

❝ ... Anthony. ❞

Gaze lowering, bittersweet smile slips further into the ❛ sweet ❜ territory. Sucking in a breath, he softly exhales as the tension in his body fades. Cheeks dusted with a warmth he feels in his chest, fists clench where they rest on his legs, the only lingering betrayal of how difficult a decision this actually was. Voice is soft as his expression, Angel surprisingly at ease now that it's out. ❝ But... Do me a favor an' only call me that when it's jus' us... 'Kay, Henry? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[burning-fcols]

(Sir Pentious) to Angel Dust “Angel Dust…” A more of a mild growl than a greeting, but a greeting nonetheless from a rather grumpy looking snake as he sets what looks to be a finely crafted snake decorated copper kettle on the stove in the hotel’s kitchens. - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴅᴀʀᴋ-ᴀᴍʙɪᴛɪᴏɴ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Angel wanders into the kitchen surprisingly earlier than one might expect. Sleep doesn't come easy, staying asleep an even harder task. Besides, the people in charge of Angel always preferred for him to be an early riser. Be it in life or death, his time was divided down to the minute and EVERY snippet available was valuable. It was good to have options; to have Angel ready should plans change or new ones arise. A habit that, bitter as he is to admit it, the spider can't shake even when NOT necessary. A nasty combination with his tendency to stay awake deep into the night... but when have Angel's habits NOT been destructive in one way or another?

With behead tamed after some difficulty— as well as the knots that SOMEHOW found their way into his chest fluff —and comfortable cotton pajamas shed in favor of his usual ensemble, Angel crosses his arms and aims narrowed eyes at the hotel's newest— No, its ❛ first real guest ❜ , apparently. Because he may as well be nothing more than a squatter taking up a room in the joint. Which Angel had KNOWN since the start. Everyone had, except for Charlie. At least, Angel had thought she viewed it differently, but that shred of— not solace. Angel isn't weak enough for something like that to matter. Whatever it was is gone now, so it's hardly important what he calls it. Charlie is no different than the rest of them.

Even someone as delusional as HER can recognize that there's no hope for him.

❝ Oh look, it's th' Princess's Star Student. ❞ Angel gruffly ❛ greets ❜ the other, contempt dripping from his words as he stalks to the fridge. Sparing Pentious only a glance ( more out of scorn than politeness )— yet form faintly tensed to the trained eye, ready in case the serpent tried anything —he opens the door in a sharp motion. Bending over to rummage through, it blessedly full with more than just partially-melted popsicles now, he sarcastically adds, ❝ Congrats on not killin' us all in our sleep. Real proud of th' progress... ❞

Ignoring all the food in favor of pulling out a lone grapefruit with a grimace, assured that his expression is hidden ( and even if it's not, he figures Pentious will confuse it for the disdain at the conversation ) , he slams the fridge shut and leans against a nearby counter. Claws picking at the tough skin of his Valentino-Approved breakfast— excuse him for ❛ putting on some pounds ❜ in the moth's eyes —gaze flits up to Pentious's fancy kettle, a brow raising as he dryly inquires, ❝ Boilin' yerself some grass? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[burning-fcols]

✩ { @amarantesstars​​ } ✩ - Continued from ★

{ ☆ } Doing the—

Cue a very skeptical and confused spooder demon. 

❝  Is that some kinda old-timey sex thing? ‘Cause it ain’t ringin’ any bells, babe.  ❞  

❝  Eh, whateva’ it is, I’m sure it ain’t nothin’ I couldn’t handle.  ❞  { ☆ } 

[burning-fcols]

"Excuse me!" A huffy snake demon slithered over to the black spider. "I was talking to you! Very rude to just leave when I was in the middle of my monolouge!" ( It begins~ )

- ✩ { @canondiivergence } ✩

{ ☆ } Arackniss doesn’t get paid enough to deal with bullshit like this... Doesn’t get paid enough to deal with half the crap he does. But that’s just part of the game, he supposes. Being the head honcho’s only son doesn’t exactly bring forth a lot of special treatment. The opposite in fact... He’s expected to work harder, act harder, BE harder.

He’s carrying the family name on his shoulders, after all. Since Angel Anthony already threw aside his self-respect— or whatever shreds he’d been keeping up a farce with —long ago. And Molly... Well, the family legacy isn’t fit for a delicate dame, whether or not she could or should be considered such. As the eldest, it all falls to him; mainly because his siblings somehow proved to be even BIGGER disappointments than the runt of the litter.

Whatever... No point in bitching over it.

Speaking of bitching—

Disinterested gaze is only disrupted by the scarce raise of a brow, ebony slits glancing over within bright scarlet as eyes give a slight glow of warning. A faint tenseness in his shoulders betraying his on edge nerves, despite his seeming lack of ‘fear’. Fur bristling like a disturbed cat and top lip arching in a slight snarl, lower limbs clench at his sides while an upper hand taps the end of a lit cigarette, ash tricking down as the chatty serpent gripes about his ‘rude’ behavior. As if it’s a surprise he’d decided to turn tail when it looked like the cartoon villain was going to go on and on... Who the fuck has the time or patience for that? Frankly, the stranger is lucky he didn’t catch a lead-induced headache.

❝  Yeah... I know.  ❞  Arackniss dryly retorts, taking a drag from his cigarette— small and quick strides not lessening, forcing the other to either follow or cut him off if he wants this talk to continue —before blowing a cloud of sickly black off to the side, surprisingly keeping it out of the snake’s face. Although it’s doubtful whether the tiny spider could even reach the looming serpent. Still, intentional courtesy of not, his words are far from cordial,  ❝  This might be eternal torment, but that don’t mean I got foreva’ ta listen ta yer li’l spiel...  ❞  Another puff of his vice, a heavy breath escaping as smoke pours from his mouth, the cigarette is then flicked away without a second thought.

Watching its brief flight, Arackniss gruffly says,  ❝  Y’wanna bump gums? Eitha’ get real interestin’ real fast... or find someone else ta give a shit.  ❞  Looking up at the stranger with a half-lidded gaze, brows knit and a scoff tainting his lips, he quips,  ❝  Because that ain’t exactly my specialty.  ❞  { ☆ }

[burning-fcols]

Starter for - ✩ { @canondiivergence​ } ✩

{ ☆ }  ❝  Oh shit...  ❞

That’s all the forewarning given before legs are a blur, Baxter grabbing whatever remnants of his notes that he can, clutching them close to his chest as he scrambles away from the desk... and the bubbling, boiling concoction resting atop of it. The glass is already cracking, spiderweb-thin lines crawling across the heated surface, leaking with steam and vibrant blue liquid. One that sizzles and eats through the wood beneath it... and had nearly dissolved a hole in his hand.

He can only imagine what may happen if the droplets are flung around in some- oh... gigantic, uncontainable explosion... in an estimated ten seconds or so. 

Hence the minuscule fish darting away to a metallic table he’d overturned just in case of emergencies such as this, nearly tripping in his haste and knocking over several stacks of papers and trinkets in the process. Whatever. He can reorganize the already-chaotic notes later. The sound of whistling— like a teapot screaming that it’s time —and heavy tools hitting the ground with a clang mix together in a catastrophic melody, making Baxter’s ears ring and his voice sound muffled as he exclaims,  ❝  Evasive action! Take COVER!  ❞  

Cue the fish ramming himself into the serpent’s body in a clumsy attempt to knock him behind the barrier... his diminutive form barely making any impact whatsoever. { ☆ }

[burning-fcols]

childrenofxhestars​:

Pentious’ top hat looked down at its wearer pointedly while Pentious’ puzzled frown slowly began to form into a toothy grin -but not the kind of creepy grin he usually wore when facing an enemy- it was the surprised, genuine smile that lit up his eyes, every single one the more Angel spoke.

At the mention of sex however, Pentious couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“No you striped, sex-crazed freak! It means courting someone which includes…” He clears his throat, the blush on his face lighting up his dark features. “Hugs.”

While it can include fortification, Pentious was more interested in getting secrets out of this arrangement. If Angel Dust was close to Alastor and the Princess of Hell, surely he could know a few things about them while “courting”. If sex needed to be included…well, the Snake inventor would will himself to do just that. 

“Lissssten,” His hood flapped flamboyantly while an elbow was placed in one nimble hand while the other waved to the Spider Demon, his flushed demeanor cooled into a business-like one. “Having a tiff is the last thing on my mind.”  

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. So, I’m willing to call a truce if you allow me the pleasure of taking you on a stroll around my part of the Pentagram. I’ll plan everything, the activities, the food, everything. I can pick you up at your place and bring you back so you’re in time for your…work.”

He stuck a hand out towards the other man expectantly for a gentleman’s handshake.

“Again-it’s up to you. Agree and we’ll have a truce, reject and war will begin again.” Both hat and wearer’s smile widened wickedly.

{ ☆ } Angel likes to consider himself pretty damn good at reading people— aside from the times when he ISN’T. But those are few and far between, the most notable of them being when he got under the employ of a certain moth. But since then he’s been extra careful about the people around him, even more so than he used to have to be when living. Underestimate the wrong people or even worse, overestimate them, and you’d find yourself pushing up daisies before you even had a chance to say ‘well, ain’t that a sonuvabitch.’

But there’s something in Pentious’s smile that brings pause, a brow quirking ever-so-slightly at the way it seems to soften the other’s features rather than sharpen it as the usual. That’s new, and unexpected, and honestly something that Angel wouldn’t mind seeing again. It’s not often that he catches sight of a genuine smile around this place. One that’s not laced with a warning or deceit or enough stupidity to make him wanna blow his brains out. As if he even could. Not unless he got a hold of one of those high-class Angelic weapons, anyway.

But he’s careful not to get anywhere near that kind of artillery... More for his own sake. 

The annoyance aimed his way isn’t unexpected at all, and Angel meets it with an amused grin and quirk of his brow, a soft chuff of laughter slipping free at the mention of ‘hugs’. Even if there is a slight fluttering in his stomach at the thought, cheeks threatening to dust with a hint of warmth. But one can hardly blame him; Hell, he can’t remember the last time someone hugged him. Sincerely hugged him in a manner that wasn’t meant to be threatening or possessive. Even during life those didn’t come along too often... Call him a sentimental BITCH, but a guy can really miss those after a few decades of slumming through the shits of society.

Arms cross and weight leans on his left leg as Angel listens to Pentious continue, a small ‘huh’ of intrigue slipping past his lips. He’s not an idiot; he knows there’s gotta be a reason for the snake’s sudden friendliness and it has nothing to do with what Angel’s body can offer. No, he’s far too much of a prude for those kinda favors. Still, it’s flattering to be valued for more than that... Even if Angel doesn’t plan on cooperating at all, aside from scamming some free food and a day away from his normal clientele. Regardless, he’ll play pretend for a bit.

Might be kinda fun, having someone ‘do this right’. 

❝  Welll, well, well, Penty... Sounds like someone’s actually threatenin’ me inta goin’ on a date wit’ ‘em. Heh... I dunno if I should be offended or flattered~  ❞  Angel teases through a chuff, a hand resting against his chest as he flutters his lashes like an old-timey broad. Sputtering out some laughter, hands curl in front of himself like they tend to do, before one then reaches out to firmly clasp Pentious’s, a smirk curling his mouth as eyes narrow with intrigue,  ❝  A’ight, you got yerself a deal, babe. Jus’ make sure ya have me back before curfew, lest Daddy start worryin’ ‘bout my virtue...  ❞

Saccharine act is promptly dropped with a snicker, head shaking as he lets go of Pentious’s hand and gives a dismissive wave,  ❝  Nah, I’m jus’ fuckin’ wit’ ya. But seriously, don’t make me late fer work an’ don’t skimp on th’ flowa’s, capishe? I’m a classy broad, afta’ all.  ❞  A finger gun is aimed Pentious’s way,  ❝  Swing by th’ hotel wheneva’ it pleases ya an’ we can hit th’ town. I’ll let ‘em know ta be expectin’ ya so Al doesn’t drag yer ass ta th’ literal pits of Hell like he did last time.  ❞  { ☆ } 

✩ { @amarantesanimateds​​ } ✩