#and (shudders) valentino too with his moth wings

[pippinscribs]

sold my soul to save my power

hey so anyone wanna talk about husk being an overlord previously or we just gonna leave that be…

original sketch underneath

[beansmack2021]

Can you write a Husk and Angel Dust fluff fic? You can throw angst in too I don't actually care what it is I just love them

Throw The Dice (HuskerDust)

I took advantage of the fact that you really didn't care what I wrote, so it's now an angst fic.

TW: Mentions of abuse, gambling, drinking, Valentino

Husk couldn't take it anymore. Every time Angel came back to the hotel covered in bruises, plopped down at the bar, and knocked back some shots like they were juice, he wanted nothing more than to go straight to Valentino's studio and rip the wings from his back.

He'd never admit it, but he liked Angel. A lot.

He knew that trying to say or do something to Valentino would only get the spider into deeper waters than he's already in. But when Angel came home one day, nursing a sprained a wrist and trying to cover a black eye, Husk had had enough.

He threw his towel down on the bar he'd been cleaning off, stormed out of the hotel and down the block to Valentino's place. He was running on adrenaline. He was breathing really heavily as he slammed open the doors and all eyes turned to him.

"Listen here, you dirty rag-looking piece of trash!"

Strong start. Really strong start. Astonishly strong start considering he wasn't really sure what his plan was. He looked around at all of the demons staring at him and knew he was way out of his comfort zone.

He was struck with an idea. It was risky, for sure. It could make things a whole hell of a lot harder than they needed to be, but he had to try. For Angel. He took a deep breath. He didn't belong in Valentino's whore house. He didn't know how to appeal to the moth man's tastes. He did know where his strengths lied, though.

"Are you a gambling man?'

The man, who'd been lounging in a chair and watching his actors shoot, sat up a bit straighter.

"It'd depend what we're betting. I'm not really looking to take in a stray alley cat. I'm betting your soul really isn't worth much to me, anyway."

Husk shrugged and tried to seem indifferent.

"Maybe not, but I'm gonna guess his is." He pointed a claw at Angel Dust, who'd followed after him tearfully.

Valentino was especially interested now. "What could you have that's worth my biggest star?"

Angel shuddered behind him and it took everything in Husk's power not to just pounce at Valentino, search him for the contract, and tear it to shreds before him. He shook his head once to clear the wonderful thought from his mind.

"I'll work for you. You don't want my soul, that's fine. So why don't you use my body for your... movies. I'm pretty flexible."

He was lying through his teeth, sure, but he didn't really have much else to offer.

Valentino stood and waltzed over to Husk, towering over him.

"Alright, kitten. I'll humor you."

Husk smirked, pulling out a pair of dice.

"It's a really simple game. I'll roll the dice. Pick a number between two and twelve. If I don't roll your number, I'll work for you. You won't need to own my soul, but my body will be yours. If I roll your number, though, you rip up Angel Dust's contract. He won't be at your beck and call anymore."

Valentino seemed bored by the idea.

"You have great odds. You're really not risking much. What do you say?"

He held out his paw, sweat beading on his forehead. He prayed the overlord would take the deal. The moth grabbed his hand and shook it.

"Fine. My number is nine."

Husk hoped he'd have enough ability left to roll the number. He threw the dice on the table, and his skin crawled as he watched one of the dice stop with four pips pointing up. He just needed a five.

Five. Five. Five. Please, five. Five...

Four.

His dead heart stopped for a minute. He looked back at Angel, whose eyes were wide. He looked terrified and as if he were going to be sick. He looked back at Valentino, who stood over him once again.

"Guess the odds weren't in your favor today, kitten. I'll see you for a shoot tomorrow at noon."

[burning-fcols]

✧ 「  @helluvaxhazbin   」   ✧  - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」 Curiosity is a dangerous thing... Especially for a heavenly being. But Peter has always been one to see things for himself, a trait that stubbornly carried over past death. Besides, if demons could waltz through the pearly gates and receive a full-on tour of Heaven's splendors— why can't an Angel partake in a bit of sight-seeing as well? It's not as if he intends to make a habit of it. Simply have a look around. Gain a better understanding of what all the fuss is about. Honestly, when he puts it THAT way... it almost sounds responsible.

Besides, it's not like anyone ever has to KNOW.

It hadn't taken long for the Saint to wander into a very un-saintly place, feathers on his wings fluffing and cheeks heating as he emitted a soft ❛ Oh my~ ❜ that would cause his superiors to raise their brows. Teal hues a-twinkle with intrigue as he took in his surroundings with OPEN admiration, it hadn't been long at all before his sights were set on the tallest drink of water in the place. Not that Peter plans on quenching his thirst... but it can't be too much of a sin to LOOK.

Shuddering as that charming cackle washes over his senses, wings give a few appreciative flaps when sly lips press a gentlemanly kiss upon his hand. Peter isn't fooled for a second by the gesture... This is no ❛ gentleman ❜ . Pressing a hand against his pale cheek with a giggle, he averts his gaze with false shyness. The angel may not always be the best when it comes to common social interactions, but he knows how to flirt. Especially when around someone as receptive as the moth.

❝ Well, pffff— I wouldn't say I was ❛ looking ❜ for THAT sort of entertainment. ❞ Peter replies with a sputter and a wave of his hand, the amused smile on his face showing NO shame about the semi-correct assumption. Brushing a stray golden lock out of his face, gaze flits about the blasphemous club as he casually continues, ❝ I was just exploring a bit, is all... Buuuuuut— ❞ Peering up at Valentino through lidded eyes, he playfully ends with, ❝ —I'm not against it either. ❞

Soft lips upturn in a smirk ill-beffiting an angel, Peter figuring that there's no harm in a bit of teasing so long as he doesn't actually take a bite of the apple. Although from the look of those teeth, he has a feeling the moth would be the one doing the BITING. ❝ I'd normally exchange names to be polite but I'm kinda trying to keep a low-profile right now... So you can stick to calling me ❛ baby ❜ and ❛ doll ❜ and whatever else you care to try out. Alright, Valentino?~ ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[prnkill]

the lights are dimmed to a swirling, dull pink and the incense of candles sways into the air. awaiting his lover in their shared penthouse, vox is sprawled on the divan, leg crossed over the knee, suit jacket long abandoned. atop the sleek table in front sits a grandiose bouquet and a box of chocolates, as well as a VOXTEK GIFT BUNDLE. vox has made dinner reservations, of course, but first … he grins brightly as val enters the room, leaning into the backrest, beckoning him closer,    ‘ oh, baby. come gimme a kiss and see what i got you ‘fore we go. i want you to wear it beneath your clothes for me. ’ 

inside the package, amidst the padding of pink tissue paper, is a neatly folded set of lingerie, perfectly tailored to val’s measurements. along with that, a remote-controlled plug, with the remote. there’s a new phone there, too, and a velvet box holding a necklace.

simply put , valentino is spoiled. he could do anything ( && he has , ) && vox would still shower him with gifts , adoration , anything he asks. his lover is like that ― gets some kind of satisfaction from spending , taking care of his partners. sicko. not that val is complaining ! it was part of what attracted him to vox in the first place , having been a client what seems like an eternity ago. after all , they've been together for decades now. though their relationship has it's ups && downs [ it's constant . ] , they love each other all the same. && for men like them , it's something rare indeed.

hips sway as the overlord struts over to the other , one of many arms resting upon his waist , a grin splitting his face. ugh , his boyfriend is so handsome ― && valentino is quick to come to his arms , leaning down to steal a kiss ; though he fails to resist swiping his tongue along lover's bottom lip , leaving some rose tinted saliva behind. the moth only leaves vox's side in order to open his gifts , excited squeaks && pleased noises escaping as he does.

❛ aw , baby ― you shouldn't have ~ ! ❜ he coos with a clap of his hands && warm chuckle , practically jumping into his lover's arms. onto vox he climbs , knees on either side of the smaller demon's thighs , kiss after kiss pressed to his lover's screen. claws trace straight lines , one sneaking behind the other's head to tease at one of the inputs he finds there. ❛ you're too good to me , you know that ? ❜ don't answer that.

but one would be foolish to think something as ravenous as valentino could be capable of waiting until after dinner. in fact , hands currently roam greedily over the other overlord's form ; dipping in between buttons , pawing && pulling at clothes. wings shudder excitedly , && he notes the sound of vox's internal fans kicking on. val is truly in love. ❛ quick one before we go ? please ? ❜

[hazbinned]

~ Continued from HERE with @angie-long-legs !

Touch me. I don’t care how.

Vox's own words circled round in his head like ravenous vultures of his own creation. It was terrifying, how stupid he was being. It was humiliating, how desperate he was being.

What was he thinking? Vox had once been as proud as he was powerful, the spitting image of perfection and innovation. He'd been a figurehead among the public, the face of an empire, the leader of the Vees, a household name. He'd held thousands of lives in his hands. He'd held the leash. People had been terrified of him.

It was stupid to claim that Valentino and Velvette had died but Vox hadn't.

Vox wasn't the same man that had slunk into Angel Dust's bedroom like a starving dog and muttered such shameful words. He wasn't even the same man who always snarled and snapped at the spider, only to revert back to his 'best behavior' every time Alastor or Charlie walked into the room.

Vox wouldn't do that. Vox wasn't a coward. Vox wouldn't crawl toward his enemy and beg him to help him feel something. Vox wouldn't stoop so low.

And yet he had. To add insult to self-made injury, Vox wasn't even attracted to Angel. He thought he was fine, sure-- objectively attractive-- but he'd have preferred Alastor. Then, at least, he might have been feeling turned on by this.

With Angel, though, all Vox felt was numb. He wasn't here because he was feeling frisky. He wasn't here because he suddenly liked Angel.

He was here because he was sad, and Angel was the only one he could see maybe saying yes.

Vox couldn't trust Angel Dust as far as he could throw him.

At the spider's wayside remark, the disgraced ex-Overlord felt his heart sink. That sounded like a 'no'— but then Angel rose from his bed and, slowly, came to stand over him.

Hands reached out, furred in pink and white. They pushed between fabric and half-synthetic skin, skimmed across his throat, and stopped at the nape of his neck.

The most lamentable whimper slipped through Vox's teeth. He shuddered, nothing short of desperate, and blinked hard. His eyes were like ovals.

Angel must have had clients like this before. The repressed ones, the ones that were starving for attention, the ones who didn't even know what they wanted and would settle for anything. The lonely. The needy. The divorced. Those who were too afraid to put themselves out there. Those who simply couldn't get any by any other means. Virgins. Cheaters.

All types of men.

But Vox wasn't one of them.

Vox had been partners with Valentino. Val, the Sex Overlord. Being partners with Valentino meant outrageous expectations in the bedroom every time.

Vox was experienced. He'd been in and out of his comfort zone, he'd discovered all sorts of likes and dislikes, and he'd even worried that he was too old and slow to be what Val wanted; the moth had deserved someone who could keep up with him, and Vox had fallen short of that.

None of that mattered now.

Val was dead, not Vox, and Vox was fishing for anything that had so much as been touched by the man. He was in greedy search of the moth's leftovers— even a crumb, even if he despised the way it tasted.

So, maybe Vox did look pathetic. Perhaps he averted his eyes and clenched his teeth, shoulders rising at the feather-light brush of Angel's fur against the bio-synthetic skin of his chest.

He was too miserable to care.

"I know," Vox hissed, forcing his eyes open. A moment's silence passed, and then he leaned forward on his feet, gaze jerking over Angel-- once, twice. "... But do I look like him?"

The former mogul was wearing a blazer, scarlet, fashioned after Valentino's wings. He'd lost his prestige, but not his money; Vox had had it custom made. Beneath this was a black dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top in the same way Val had always worn his. Around Vox's neck was the moth's gold necklace.

He felt like the younger Overlord was still alive whenever he passed something reflective and thought he'd caught a glimpse of him.

Vox shook his head. He needed to get back on track. He was trying to seduce Angel, not show off his grief-induced fashion sense. Angel was toying with him, but Vox couldn't tell if the star was actually interested in making this happen or if this was just another sick game of his— like in the start, when the spider had played with his bow-tie.

Vox needed to reciprocate if he wanted to find out.

Fans whirring lowly, the television demon extended his hands toward Angel's arms.

"... I suppose we'd ought to establish what we're into... and what we aren't," he said, and he rested his claws upon him. "Rules... things like that."