#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」

[burning-fcols]

Husker was near clawing down the walls of the hotel, the sudden ban on booze driving him out of his fur in the worst torment possible. Pacing about the lobby, his bar now empty (which he swore was meant to mock him, seeing as Alastor very well could have just gotten rid of it all together instead of clearing it out), his paws were beginning to hurt in a near manic need to move. "This is fucking bullshit, I'm losing my fucking mind over here!" Turning to Angel, Husk's arms moved about in tandem with his words, hoping knowing that the spider would be one of the only ones there that might understand what he was going through. "My fur's fucking crawling, a-and I can't stop fucking shaking!" Sure enough, there was a constant tremor to his body, a feather breaking loose from his vibrating wings every so often to flutter about the floor where it would soon be kicked up by his pacing. "I can't fucking think! Everything just feels, fuck I dunno, warm? No, fucking burning all over, a-and tingly. Even when I was alive, it never felt like this when I was dry..." - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ʜᴇʟʟꜱ-ꜰᴠʀʏ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 This has to be one of the STUPIDEST ideas yet... and that's including the whole premise for the hotel. Angel can understand the logic behind wanting a squeaky-clean persona for the place. It's sort of hard to preach ❛ redemption ❜ and freedom from vices when actively PROVIDING one right in the main lobby. Yet it hardly matters how well they practice what they preach if no one is around to learn. Angel knows that he's just there to fill a bedroom, ❛ progress ❜ or not. It's a pipe-dream with him, and it's not even his unattainable fantasy. Dreaming of angel wings sprouting from his back and a glowing halo hovering above his head is Charlie's schtick. Pentious is no better, the snake starved for praise not piety.

No, he can't imagine it working for either of them... Or anyone else, if he's being honest. But especially not the patrons they currently have. Lack of liquor isn't going to have people breaking down the doors to get in. It's also not going to stop Angel from indulging in his desires elsewhere, dangerous a decision as that may be. It's a shame, really... He had been enjoying having a place he could grab a drink without wondering when it was going to be spiked. Bartender is pretty cute too.

Speaking of which...

Sitting on a stool by the booze-less bar, he watches Husk practically wear a hole in the floor with his pacing. Gaze follows a feather's sad descent as it shakes lose from a trembling wing. Brows knit and a concerned bite to his bottom lip, Angel's fingers drum on his crossed arms as he mulls over the most delicate way to clarify the others... situation. It's painfully apparent that Husk has no clue what's going on. An affliction that Angel's enhanced senses had pegged as soon as he got near the fidgeting feline. It was overwhelming, the fog of pheromones surrounding the poor guy. Were it when Angel only recently arrived in Hell, he'd have gotten dizzy from how thick the air became... Thankfully, he has a better hold of himself now.

Practice makes perfect, he guesses. That and overexposure to the stuff thanks to a certain aphrodisiac-addled moth. ❝ I, uh... I got a pretty good idea why that is. But you ain't gonna like it, Whiskers. ❞ Angel begins when Husk has finished spewing his shaky woes. One leg crossed over the other, he bounces his knee in a small fidget. ❝ When you were alive, I'm guessin' you weren't exactly... a cat. ❞ A finger lightly motions at Husk with the statement. ❝ An' bein' THIS comes wit' a few— eh, let's call 'em complications. ❞ Normally he'd jokingly refer to it as a ❛ perk ❜ , but now isn't the time. Not with Husk.

Standing up from his seat, Angel then rips off the bandage with a blunt, ❝ Sorry tomcat, yer in heat. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#hari don't look #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴛʀᴀ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Angel Dust 」 #hells-fvry #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ʙᴀʀᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Husk 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ; ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust and Husk 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

"You are nothing without me!" ( ValAngel ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Things never should have escalated this far... Normally, Angel would be begging Valentino to calm down. Apologizing, appeasing, ANYTHING to ease the moth's fiery temper into a more controllable flame. One not at risk of incinerating him should the other man see fit. Yet since the incident in the club— the spark starting even before that, if Angel is being honest —the air has been tense between the two. Thick with words left unspoken and echoing with the venomous ones that HAD. Both men stuck in a silent understanding that things aren't over... not by a long-shot.

Yet neither willing to be the first to openly-acknowledge it.

Instead, Angel had been worked to exhaustion and then some. Decorated with all manners of bruises and fluids— some speckles of pink blood intermingling with the cum still caked onto his fur —the star looked about ready to collapse for the past few hours... Which must make it even MORE infuriating that the only reason he's on his knees now is because the moth had struck him, Angel stubbornly refusing to let his legs buckle until forced. Coughing violently, air knocked from his lungs as earlier events are faced ( thin thread finally snapped once they were alone ) Angel spits some blood onto the carpet before wiping at his mouth with an arm.

Breathing heavily, bleary gaze fixates on the moth looming above. Angel's head still swimming from the strike. Despite the ringing in his ears, Val's words chime clear as ever. Only this time, Angel's retort cuts through JUST as loudly. ❝ Then why don' ya get rid of me?! ❞ Shocked by his own question ( not the concept, but by being foolish bold enough to voice it ) Angel doesn't let this show. Sitting on the ground— lip split but voice strong, Angel not having been allowed any drink or drug on set today —the spider hastily spats, ❝ If I'm really so WORTHLESS— If this is all only 'cause of you, then jus' find some new slut off th' street an' do it again! ❞

Weakly trying to stand, Angel falls forward a bit as his legs give way. Voice shaking as much as his body, he tries again. ❝ I'm sick of it... I'm sick of you tellin' me I'm special— tellin' me I matta' one minute an' then sayin' I'm SHIT th' next. Bein' so goddamn POSSESSIVE, like ya can't even stand otha' people lookin' at me... an' then actin' like I'm jus' a dime-a-dozen whore ta you. ❞ Switching between condemning and something akin to a deep-seated HURT, Angel doesn't let himself dwell too deeply on it. Unsure what he's even looking for anymore aside from an answer...

Blinking back tears, Angel refuses to let them fall just like he refuses to let his knees give way. Standing in front of the moth, the spider looks as though a stiff wind could knock him over... but he's STANDING. ❝ So which is it? Eitha' I'm everythin' or I'm nothin'— but ya can't have it BOTH ways. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#hari don't look #(( .... *sets this down* )) #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴛʀᴀ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Angel Dust 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴏɪꜱᴏɴ ❞ ¦ 「 Valentino 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ; ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʜᴇʟᴘʟᴇꜱꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust and Valentino 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

"...?" A newly made person, something called a human, looked up at Lucifer with curious, bright eyes. With a tilt of his head, he made a questioning noise, his mussed hair accenting his features. It gave him a baby deer quality, awkward and absurdly cute. 'Who and what are you?' The being inquired non-verbally. (Adam when he meets Lucifer for the first time :3) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴛʜᴇᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴꜱxxxᴄʀᴇᴡ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 This is incredible… He loves it here. With every shred of his heavenly being, the smallest angel absolutely LOVES it. This place, brimming and blossoming and bewitching with possibility! It’s a rush unlike any other whenever something new is welcomed into the universe. What was once a dark expanse of suffocating nothingness slowly but surely being filled— improved with these pockets of breath. Of LIFE. He can’t understand how the others refrain from doing somersaults in the air with each new addition to the carefully-curated canvas of creation.

He doesn’t want to understand.

Giddily flapping his wings to get a better view as dust is pulled into yet another wonder— creation having no shortage of ideas —wide eyes behold what has to be his favorite yet. He’s uncertain why. Surely any of the other creatures conceived are just as worthy of the title. Each of them remarkable in their own right. But even-so, as blue hues ( reflecting the glow of the sun, as if a piece of the sky itself was broken off to allow him the gift of seeing what was birthed beneath it ) focus upon the stranger… Samael knows it’s true.

With a flash of light, angelic form shifts into something closer to this newfound design, the small male swooping down with a beaming grin. Flying around the stranger in a few excited circles— not considering how disorienting it may be —he studies the ❛ human ❜ with a curious chitter. For something so similar, it's also remarkably different. Hair alone is a stark contrast to the heavenly being. So dark compared to golden strands. So messy beside perfectly-fluffed locks...

Sucking in a breath, wide eyes sparkle with newfound light when an unfamiliar voice enters his mind. Glancing around to ensure it's only the two of them, Samael bites his bottom lip to choke back a trill of delight when he sees the other angels off in the distance. Busy tending to the needs of the sanctuary, ensuring it truly has all a human could possibly need... Still, the angel keeps his responses non-verbal as well, not wanting to risk being interrupted during this pivotal moment.

❛ I am Samael... and I'm an Angel. ❜

Hands press into his chest as he introduces himself, smile transforming from overjoyed to comforting as he beholds the delightfully-curious creature. Arms extend to his sides in a dramatic gesture, large wings keeping his petite form afloat to help him reach the taller male's gaze. ❛ Welcome. To your home. To existence! ❜ Grandeur fading, he leans forward and takes the stranger's hands in his own. Giving them an encouraging squeeze as he reverently communicates,

❛ You are going to do remarkable things. ❜ 「 ☆ 」

#(( P A I N )) #(( also shoutout to lucifer making birb noises )) #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Lucifer IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ; ᴀ ᴠɪꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ɪ ꜱᴇᴇ ❞ ◌ ᴘʀᴇ!ꜰᴀʟʟᴇɴ ¦ 「 Lucifer 」 #thecaptainsxxxcrew #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴅɪᴄᴋ ❞ ¦ 「 Adam 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴄᴏʟᴅ; ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Lucifer and Adam 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

( Tw: fatphobia, body image issues, panic attacks, just fucking fun depressing shit :,) ) Adam didn't care if some demon thought he was trash and beneath him. He was Adam. The original man, The Prince Consort of Hell, The Sin of Pride's only best Bitch. A title he wore in public shamelessly now that he's getting used to his new role. Because if that's all those fuckers would see of him, he was going the biggest, baddest bitch of all. It was just that one guy. That one colleague, friend, Fredrick von Fuckhisname, whoever the fuck that said something that...struck Adam in the moment. About how if it weren't for Heaven throwing him away literally onto Lucifer, forcing the King's hand to accept the former excorist into a binding agreement, Lucifer would never have chosen Adam. He would have wanted Lilith back without a second's hesitation. It brought Adam back to the beginning of where the root of all of his relationship problems began. Lucifer's betrayal, how both Lilith and Eve were gifts literally made for Adam but stolen just as easily by the very man he was wed to. How every relationship since his two wives was either a casual fling he made on the fly or assigned to Adam by someone else. The royal demon even went as far as to say that it was wonder how Lucifer was even tolerating Adam at all, that he could have anyone else. Extramarital affairs were not uncommon among hellion's royal couples after all. Fred went on about how "unattractive", "unintelligent" and uncharming Adam was, that he's hardly the picture perfect being he was in Eden. And how he was just a "burden" for Lucifer to carry, a literal heavy weight, ball and chain that the King had to carry or else more lives would be at stake. Lives that Adam previously would have no problem destroying in a sadistic form of vengeance against Lucifer and Lilith. Lives that to a certain degree, Adam still did not care for, only cared in how they applied to Lucifer and then Charlie by association. All of this accosted his mind as Adam froze, completely into an all on panic attack. This very sensitive nerve that was the root of all of his abandonment issues, all of his worst fears that were brought up to light in this one dinner party with that one fucker that knew exactly what he was doing by verbally hurting Adam. Away from everyone else where they didn't think the Sin of Pride could hear them. - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱᴍᴀɴ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 The Morningstars and the von Eldritch family have been closely associated for countless years at this point, Lucifer and Fredrick being on openly amicable terms. Their children had even dated for a time— the fathers eagerly conversing about how a wedding was likely in their future. Fredrick enthused about the political standing it would provide his family ( not that he mentioned it out loud ) and Lucifer at the thought of his daughter finding love. Hoping it was of a more stable sort than his own proved to be.

Unfortunately, things had ended poorly between the young couple; although Charlie never provided specifics and Lucifer never prodded her for them. Despite the newly-added strain, the families' connection had persevered. Fredrick wasn’t about to let the shortcomings of his son jeopardize his companionship with the ruler of Hell. Even after Lucifer become more isolated— with no Lilith or Charlie for him to plaster on a smile and parade himself around in public for anymore —the updates and invitations had not stopped. Unanswered and even unopened, Fredrick methodical in his attempts to remain a ❛ loyal ❜ companion to the elusive leader. In case there came a time when Lucifer resurfaced... and would need to see who was steadfast and who had wavered.

Imagine the von Eldritch's surprise when his latest dinner invitation had been responded to... and with a YES. For the King of Hell and the Prince Consort.

After going so long without the King's company, the extent of their relationship being cordial in its silence, it's no wonder Fredrick has become... emboldened. Especially with what he knows of Lucifer and Adam's torrid past. Nothing overly-revealing, but enough loose-lipped tidbits and depressed reminiscing for Fred to let his cunning fill in the blanks. Apparently well-enough to get quite the amusing reaction out of the King's plaything. Were this years ago, Fredrick would know better than to disrespect ANYTHING of Lucifer's. However unimportant or conditional it may seem from an outside perspective. Pride is a dangerous thing to bruise; the Sin of it even more dangerous when pushed too far.

Fredrick had pushed too far.

It happens without warning, the King of Hell appearing between Adam and Fredrick in a flash of Hellfire and a blink. Heat radiating from him with a scalding intensity, wings expand from behind him to bring the fallen angel directly face-to-face with his ❛ friend ❜ . As much as Lucifer may have parroted the word through the years, as much as Fredrick may have believed him, the King is not so easily deceived. More than aware of when he's being used for someone's personal gain and weighing when the perks are worth the price... Fredrick was never truly a threat and, despite his selfish intentions, he knew how to play his part well.

He was a convincing friend. Even enjoyable to be around... Charming and witty and desperate enough to suffer through whatever nonsense Lucifer saw fit. In a way, they were mutually using one another. Unfortunately for Fredrick, his usefulness is not valuable enough to tolerate such DISRESPECT.

❝ ₳₱ØⱠØ₲łⱫɆ. ❞ A deep, dangerous, guttural growl from the King's throat. When Fredrick opens his mouth— expression too confused, daresay offended, for whatever he says to be apologetic —Lucifer shoves his face in front of the other man's, voice now ECHOING through the sprawling manor as flames lick at the edges of his mouth, ❝ You have CLEARLY forgotten who you were talking to. I will not tolerate such things being said about my HUSBAND. So, you will apologize NOW or I will rip you to pieces right here in your own fucking home in front of all these guests. ❞

Needless to say... an apology was forthwith.

Not to the standards Lucifer would like ( Fredrick's curt regrets too tinged with bitter ego ) — withering glare making it clear this offense would NOT be soon forgotten —but he had more important issues to attend to. Lowering to the polished floor with a click of his heels, a portal appears behind him and his husband. Servants at the ready to help lead Adam through it, Lucifer offering his aid while keeping a snarl aimed at his long-time ❛ friend ❜ . One who has his own damage to deal with, whispers already circulating around the high-class crowd ( like the conniving vultures they are ) at Fredrick having fallen so horribly out of favor.

— ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ — ✧ —

When in their manor, Lucifer had ushered the group Adam's room. Hoping the privacy and sense of ownership of the space would offer a comfort the vastness of their home may lack. Dismissing the servants once Adam had finally been calmed, Lucifer closes the door with a soft click. Fingers linger on the handle for a breath, eyes aimed at but not seeing it. Brows furrowed and gaze hard, he knows an important conversation lies ahead ( one he can NOT mess up )... Now that Adam is hopefully capable of having it. Fredrick's words had wreaked devastation upon the other's emotional state. Sucking in a sharp breath, Lucifer chokes down the beginning of a growl, forcing his crinkled expression to relax before he turns to Adam. Now is not the time for lingering anger on the others behalf.

Now is the time to see how his ❛ husband ❜ is doing... Taking a small step forward, unsure if he should breach the others space during this sensitive moment, a hand tentatively reaches toward out before retracting. Fingers curl inward, Lucifer opening his mouth before seeming to go back on what he was going to say; instead he quietly chimes an uncertain— ❝ ... Adam? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Lucifer IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅ; ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟᴇᴛ ɢᴏ ❞ ◌ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ ¦ 「 Lucifer 」 #meansman #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴅɪᴄᴋ ❞ ¦ 「 Adam 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴄᴏʟᴅ; ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Lucifer and Adam 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

"I tried to keep feelings out of this. I really did." Angel, no, Anthony, just wasn't some cheap lay for him. Granted, Travis did have feelings before for him, but maturing on the set behind the director's seat with Valentino, he had genuinely, utterly fallen for Anthony. "But fuck if I can't anymore. I know you hate me. I know you can't stand me, but I do love you." ( -slowly drops another Travis for you cause bitch won't shut up. ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Standing up with a wince, he grits his teeth before stretching his back. Travis must have REALLY missed his ass considering what he put it through. Not that Angel was complaining last night. Quite the opposite. Arms raised above his head, he sucks in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. Running his hands through his messy hair, he reaches for a robe slung over a nearby chair. Slinging it over his shoulders, movements pause when Travis shatters the silence of early morning.

❛ Fuck. ❜

Biting his tongue, Angel resists the urge to call bullshit. If Travis was truly trying to keep feelings out of this, then there wouldn't be this crushing weight on his chest. His hands wouldn't be shaking as he ties the sash around his robe. He wouldn't be GIVING a shit that Travis sounds so... desperate. But in a way that elicits a lump in Angel's throat that threatens to choke him, rather than entice the disgust he used to feel towards the other man. Travis wouldn't have comforted him when he was alone. Wouldn't have listened to him bitch. Or have been bitched AT when Angel's anger bubbled over and he couldn't stifle the urge to lash out at someone.

If it was merely all a ruse to get into bed with him again, it'd be easier to handle. Angel can understand that. Had been THROUGH that with Valentino, ❛ feelings ❜ proved to be nothing but manipulation once he was ensnared and there was no risk of wriggling his way out. But they both know that's not it... Travis, the utter fool that he is, had gotten attached. Rather than cut-his-losses and distance himself from the star, he'd dug his claws in deeper. Angel's heart bleeding with every beat as the avian unknowingly crushed it in his unrelenting hold.

❝ You really think that... Don' you? ❞ Angel mutters, grip on his robe trembling, claws sinking into the fluffy fabric. That should be a good thing. If Travis wasn't so irrationally stubborn, it WOULD be. But as is, Angel doesn't trust Travis to ever get enough common sense to stop chasing someone he believes HATES him. ❝ You think I hate you? That I wish you weren' fuckin' here? ❞ Voice breaking, Angel swallows thickly with indecision before finally turning to face the other man, ❝ Are you really that fuckin' blind? ❞ He should be grateful for Travis's ignorance... He hasn't lost his acting chops, apparently.

But instead it just... hurts.

He and Travis can't help but hurt each other.

❝ Can't stand you? Yer th' only good thing about this place... ❞ Tinged with desperation mirrored in his eyes, a weak disbelieving laugh laces his words, ❝ An' you shouldn' be 'cause that's fucked up, but you ARE an' I can't do anythin' about that anymore. ❞ Falling for his stalker... What kind of twisted plot-line was this? It felt like something he should be reading in one of Valentino's scripts, not having play out in real time without the aid of sleazy writers puppeteering him. It felt weak. Desperate, despite Angel's initial resistance. If Travis wasn't such a surprisingly-decent guy, it wouldn't have happened AT ALL. Therein lies the confusing aspect...

It shouldn't be happening. Angel doesn't draw the attention of decent guys.

❝ Fuckin' you was s'pposed ta make you get ova' me. I— I know it doesn' make much sense but I was runnin' outta options! ❞ Hands motioning in front of himself, he takes a step toward the other, ❝ I thought— maybe if I finally gave ya what you've been wantin'... You'd realize that I ain't worth this. I'm not worth th' risk. ❞ Blinking back tears, Angel doesn't realize he's gotten close enough to grab Travis's hands until they're being held in his. ❝ I don' GET ta be loved, Trav... Valentino isn' gonna take kindly ta someone playin' wit' his toy. He's gonna HURT you if he finds out. He might even kill you. An' I can't let that happen. I— I can't let you keep puttin' yerself in danger cause'a me. ❞

Bending down to better meet the other's gaze— pleading for him to understand —a hand rests on Travis's cheek. ❝ Please, baby... I'm tryin' ta help you, 'cause... I— ❞ Tongue flits across his nervous lips, Angel's gaze lowering to Travis's. Fuck. Rushing forward, lips press against the other man's. Desperate for the brief comfort it brings, for the ironic hope that this kiss will be the LAST of them. Sinking into the sensation— the taste and gentle caress of a tongue —Angel softly pants against the others mouth when he pulls away, words breathed with a shaky shame, ❝ ... I love you. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#hari don't look #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴛʀᴀ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Angel Dust 」 #questionablemuses #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴜɴᴅʀᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇʜᴇᴀʀꜱᴀʟ ❞ ¦ 「 Travis 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇ’ꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ; ɪ ᴅᴏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust and Travis 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

Vox was still in a state of shock. They had fights before, yes, but never this bad? To the point where Valentino had put cracks through his screen. He had yet to even make the move to upgrade. Vox was trying so hard not to believe it. He loved him, didn't he? What the fuck? "Get me the strongest drink you can make. Pronto." ( can be wherever! & surprise me with the muse! ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Alastor meandering about the television’s room is not an uncommon occurrence. The deer slipping in and out of the shadows of Vox’s life with such nonchalance ( and consistency ) that it doesn’t cause the other to so much as bat an eye nowadays. What’s most unusual about the interaction is the blunt command… as well as the maze of cracks upon the other Overlord’s screen. But Alastor only draws attention to one at first.

❝ ❛ Pronto? ❜ I see someone has forgotten their manners. ❞ Gently chiding with a hum, there’s no malice behind the calm words. Nothing but a quirk of his brow and a twitch of his closed smile betrays his true thoughts, ears still as statues despite the indignant rage boiling within. Smoothly turning to the others bar, tense air is prodded by the soft clinking of glass and pouring of liquid. Rather than complete the request for the ❛ strongest ❜ drink he could make— Alastor knows some combinations that could kill a soul twice —he instead goes for something more personable. Figuring that more comfort could be found in the familiar rather than trying to force forgetfulness.

❝ Here you are, my dear. ❞ Handing over the drink, he sits down beside the fellow Overlord with a soft hum. Keeping a fair bit of distance between the two; not wanting Vox to feel suffocated or any more on-edge than he must already. He's unfortunately familiar with seeing someone in shambles after a... disagreement. That's what his father preferred to refer to them as. Every blow against his mother of her doing, according to the skewed logic where it was capable to earn harm from one's loved one. Too tender as that term feels for someone who would DO such a thing.

Alastor doesn't need to ask about what occurred. He can tell from what pieces of that disbelieving expression he can read on Vox's shattered screen... Taking a sip of rye, he looks at the liquid in his glass. Then he asks anyway. So Vox can have the opportunity to voice it. To come to terms with it. ❝ What happened? ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴜʟʟʏ ᴅʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ! ❞ ¦ 「 Alastor IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ɪ ᴇxᴘɪʀᴇᴅ; ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴘʟᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴛɪʀᴇ ❞ ◌ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ¦ 「 Alastor 」 #questionablemuses #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴀᴢᴇ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴇɴ ❞ ¦ 「 Vox 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʀᴇᴡɪɴᴅ; ᴡᴇ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜰᴀʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Vox and Alastor 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

"I would let you rip me apart if it meant loving you." ( -shoves a Travis @ Angel uwu - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 When Travis first started working in the studio, Angel had wanted nothing more than for the new Director to turn on his heel, march the fuck out the door, and NEVER show his face again. Air crackled with a tension that had showed no signs of waning. A power-struggle arising between the two, Angel pushing his limits as best he could without drawing too much attention to his disobedience. No need to get Valentino involved, after all. Despite his pushing, Angel was always VERY aware that he had no true control in the situation. Should Travis decide it, he could easily make Angel's studio life far worse than it already is...

Yet, the spider had persisted. Had pushed and pushed and pushed... Somehow in the fray, Travis had done some pushing of his own. Catching Angel by surprise, the avian slipping past the spiderweb-thin cracks in his defenses. Not that Angel wouldn't still prefer more distance between him and the other man... but now it stems from far more than aggravation. Fear intermixed with the churning in his stomach, Angel aware of how Travis has become even more dangerous. It's one thing to hate the creepy stalker who wouldn't give him a moment's peace. It's another entirely to realize Travis has become one of the most comforting consistencies on set.

He can never know. NO ONE can... unless they both want to get in deep shit for it.

Unfortunately, Travis is as pathetically persistent as he is surprisingly sincere... The latest of his loving declarations sending Angel's stomach into a series of flips. Clutching his robe around himself— filming done for the day and no one but the two left behind on set, a habit they had started slipping into since their first after-session talk —Angel spins on his heel to face the other man. ❝ Don' say shit like that! ❞

Sounding more panicked insistent than he intended, Angel prays that Travis is too dense to realize the source of his outburst. Fueled by a protectiveness for the other man he'd rather NOT be consumed by, as well as a deep-seated fear that he WILL end up tearing Travis apart ( putting the other in danger for his own selfish indulgences ) Angel looks down at him in exasperation, ❝ Fuckin' christ, Trav... Have some more respect fer yerself! Is this ALL you know how ta do? Offa' yerself up ta people who don' give two shits about you? ❞

Granted, that's not true anymore... but from the sound of it, Travis may not be aware of it. Hoping Travis is oblivious to the predicament he's put the porn star in, Angel sighs and runs his hand through his hair. Looking away from the other man, grip on his robe grows tighter as he bitterly mutters, ❝ Yer makin' me sound like fuckin' Val... ❞ Does Travis actually think he'd do that? That he'd use him that way... Tear him apart without a second thought. Body and soul mangled into nothing, because Travis is willing?

Angel knows what it's like to be the one desperately offering to be ripped apart. 「 ☆ 」

#hari don't look #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴛʀᴀ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Angel Dust 」 #questionablemuses #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴜɴᴅʀᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇʜᴇᴀʀꜱᴀʟ ❞ ¦ 「 Travis 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇ’ꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ; ɪ ᴅᴏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust and Travis 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

"No one can know about this." ( VoxAngel ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 One doesn't work in as close proximity with Valentino as he does without becoming familiar with the other Vees. But though he may know of and even a bit more about them than their ❛ perfect ❜ public personas show— mainly the less savory aspects of how they run their operation; Angel having a front-row seat to the fuckery and corruption rampant within the gleaming towers —doesn't mean he's had much personal experience with them... and NEVER without the accompaniment of Val. Acting more as an accessory or tool to tote around than a person.

Sure, he's tried on outfits for Velvette at the moth's request or been the test subject of scents meant to ❛ entice ❜ and corrupt... and he's taken note of the cameras Vox has scattered about the place, knowing NOTHING escapes the Television's watchful eye. Learning the hard way during his earlier years working at the studio. Needing to be occasionally reminded when he gets a bit too spirited. But despite this unspoken... tension between the two, Angel had assumed he and Vox were on amicable terms. In a ❛ neither of us want the other around but we have to grin and bear it because of Val ❜ sort of way. It's not as if either of them could DO much about it.

If Vox could have gotten rid of him, Angel doesn't doubt it would have happened by now... Which is why he's taken off-guard at the abrupt summons to the Television's room. Maybe that clever bastard finally found a way. If there's one thing he knows about the Vees, it's never good to get called for a private meeting. If there's one thing he knows about Val, it's never good to do anything without his explicit permission. Forced into BOTH on Vox's whim, all Angel can do is grit his teeth, straighten his spine— fluff his chest for good measure before entering the room —and bear it. Thrust into yet another dangerous situation by an Overlord and this one doesn't even technically hold his leash... but he may as well with the power he wields.

❝ Mista' Vox, please... Yer speakin' ta a professional. My lips are sealed~ ❞ With a zipping motion over his mouth, Angel takes an offered seat with an overflowing bluff of confidence. Ignoring the dread sinking in his stomach, he crosses one leg over the other— instinctively letting his skirt ride up his thigh a bit —and rests his lower hands on his knee. Despite knowing he has NO control in the situation, Angel refuses to show it. Vox is like those sharks he loves so much... Can't let him smell blood in the water. ❝ 'Specially when it comes ta Daddy Val. I'm sure I don' need ta tell you how much he hates otha' people messin' wit' his things... ❞

A subtle prod, testing the currents to see how Vox reacts to mention of Valentino. Wondering if it's necessary to remind the Overlord that as the moth's Top Bitch, he should be somewhat protected... Right? Leisurely picking some lint off his shirt, dainty fingers purposely draw attention to the fluffy cleavage spilling over. When in doubt, show off the merchandise and hope it throws Vox off his game. Suave as the Television may try to be, he's made of flesh and blood— or circuitry and whatever-the-fuck-else —and untamable emotions like anyone else.

❝ So... What ex'ctly is th' ❛ this ❜ no one can know 'bout anyway? ❞ Angel inquires, leaning forward a bit in his seat with a purposeful smirk, ❝ I know what people usually want me fer... but you didn' strike me as th' type ta be int'rested in tryin' out my services~ ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#hari don't look #(( *slides this over* )) #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴛʀᴀ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Angel Dust 」 #questionablemuses #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴀᴢᴇ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴇɴ ❞ ¦ 「 Vox 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ; ᴀ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴄᴇɪᴠᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust and Vox 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

"You have been jumping through quite an extensive set of hoops to avoid me, łīⱦⱦłē đᵾȼҟ, and I wish to know why." Cornering Lucifer in his own room in a wisp of shadow, Alastor's smile was as big and sharp as ever, but pulled just a bit too tight as he loomed over the smaller demon. Something wasn't right, things had been fine, even after they- Things had been fine, until all of a sudden Lucifer seemingly vanished from the halls of the hotel, Alastor unable to shake the feeling that somehow he had been the cause. How was he meant to get Lucifer's attention play with the little king's temper if there was no king to poke? //🦆🥚🦌 - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ʜᴇʟʟꜱ-ꜰᴠʀʏ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 This shouldn’t be possible… Granted, Lucifer doesn’t know EVERYTHING there is to know about these things. The workings of his own anatomy is an enigma to say the least, both him and Lilith flabbergasted at Charlie’s conception. But it still feels like this shouldn’t be occurring. Like he’s somehow committed a heinous sin against Alastor despite the deer being very involved in the act as well. If anything, Lucifer would argue it’s mainly Alastor’s fault for confronting him in the first place! Honestly, he may go so far as to say it’s solely Alastor’s— Okay, fine. That’s not true.

It’s still mostly Alastor’s fault though.

Pacing with his head down and mind swimming, the sharp click of hooves echo in the spacious room. Forging his usual attire in favor of pajamas— rubber-duck-patterned pants and a loose-fitting shirt with an image of one asleep —messy hair and frantic mutterings don’t help with his frazzled demeanor. This is insane… It’s utterly nonsensical! How could it even— Why would it—

Alastor hates him. No he doesn’t. Alastor hates him. If he did, then why is spawn preparing to enter the world? … Alastor is going to hate him, once he learns of this. Alright, that makes sense. Hands subconsciously resting over his stomach, Lucifer barely feels any different. Yet he KNOWS what is brewing. At first, he’d been confused but not suspicious. Husk offering him food— insisting he take it —had been strange, but nothing to obsess over. That nagging urge to find Alastor, the near-anxiety of not being in close-proximity to the deer… it was annoying, but Lucifer could still brush it off as an unfortunate effect of the— … shift in their relationship.

Lucifer always has been a bit on the clingy side ( ironically, it’s one of the strongest reasons he can have an unfortunate habit of distancing himself ) … and Alastor has been confusing as of late. It’s no wonder that after being— cared for by him, he wouldn't know how to act around the deer. That was the assumption until he found himself hurling into the toilet, a sudden and strong bout of morning sickness making him fall to his knees... and he NEVER gets sick. The only other time he ailed like this was when— Hence, the madman pacing as he tries to fight back the tightness in his chest.

Two days. He has TWO days... Technically one before he starts ❛ showing ❜ , and then the egg will be here. There will be no hiding it then. Especially not since nesting instincts will glue him to it, tasked with keeping it safe for WEEKS ( twenty-eight days, to be exact ) until it's ready to hatch. Practically bedridden, needing to warm and diligently turn the precious creature, lest things go... badly. And he REFUSES to let any harm befall his newest child... His and Alastor's chi—

❝ Oh fuck. ❞ He mutters, skidding to a halt as the subject of his panicked pondering materializes in front of him. As if summoned by being the SOURCE of Lucifer's problems, the deer now towers over him, sending a shiver up the ❛ little duck's ❜ spine thanks to that stupidly-enjoyable nickname. The same one that set this whole dance into motion. ❝ You— You want to know why? Oh. Okay. That's... That's um, that's— doable. Yep. I can definitely do that. ❞

Mouth rambling without his agreement, Lucifer internally reprimands himself for spending so much time fretting over how Alastor may react to the news, yet not figuring out how he was going to TELL him. Short of shoving an egg in his face and saying ❛ Guess what? ❜ . Barking out a nervous laugh, crimson hues flit around the room as he briefly considers teleporting out of there. But whatever few moments that would allow him still wouldn't be nearly enough to compose a plan... It still takes him a second to shake off the temptation.

❝ I, uh... Well. You see— I... have a— ... We have— ❞ Coughing into a closed fist, Lucifer then looks up at Alastor, takes a deep breath and ever-so-delicately... BLURTS out, ❝ I'm pregnant. ❞

❝ And it's yours. Just in case that wasn't clear. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#(( *UwUs and sets down a pregnant king* )) #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Lucifer IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴄʜᴀᴍᴘᴀɢɴᴇ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ; ᴄᴀᴠɪᴀʀ ᴍᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ— ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ! ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Lucifer 」 #hells-fvry #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Alastor 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɢɪʀʟ ᴏʀ ɢᴜʏ; ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴡɪʀʟɪɴɢ ꜱᴋʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Lucifer and Alastor 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

Have a Vox who's still feeling the stress of that night. He's long since fixed his screen, but he's been keeping his distance, only showing up when Velvette asks him to, but he hasn't said a word to Valentino. Aside from confused, stolen glances. He wants so badly to ask if they were okay, but he doesn't. Instead, he bites his tongue & immediately busies himself with his phone as he sits down on the sofa. ( - For Valentino :'3 I couldn't not. u_u ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Ever since Valentino was pushed a bit too far— resulting in a cracked screen; which had promptly put an END to the whole ordeal —his lover has been avoiding him like the plague. It's as frustrating as it is utterly PATHETIC, Valentino's patience wearing thin with every purposeful look away from his direction. Being ignored has always rubbed Val the wrong way. Even more-so when it's by someone he's grown accustomed to attention from... He had thought Vox needed cared for him more than this. But if one measly little argument is enough to make the other Overlord skittish, perhaps he'd overestimated Vox's obsession devotion.

The only silver lining to this mess is, ironically, Vox's nervous behavior proving that— should things get back on track —the Television will be more careful in the future. It's much easier to train someone who doesn't instinctively fight against being punished. But rather, tries to AVOID it. But first, Vox will have to regain some of that attractive confidence he flaunts around in public, and work up enough nerve to actually TALK to his estranged partner. Before it becomes too difficult for Valentino to repress the outburst boiling beneath the surface. Kept at bay by tearing apart a few unimportant employees before retreating to his room in a huff.

Speak of the cowardly devil...

Not sparing Vox so much as a glance when he enters the room, Val's gaze remains riveted on his phone screen. Lazily scrolling but not actually reading any of it, he waits a few minutes to see if the other man will break the tense air. When that doesn't seem likely, Valentino takes matters into his own hands. Voice is quiet, slicing into the silence in a ❛ disappointed ❜ growl, ❝ So... You're just going to keep ignoring me, then? ❞ Cheek propped up in his fist, thumb rhythmically scrolls, the light of his screen reflecting in his glasses. ❝ I thought I mattered to you— ❞

Eyes narrow, still stubbornly refusing to look at the man sitting beside him, voice gaining a bitter tinge, ❝ Guess I was wrong. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#burning-fcols #(( Valentino: *hurt Vox* — Also Valentino: wow i cant believe my bf is Ignoring Me that is so fucked up )) #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴍᴀɴᴅꜱ; ᴏʙᴇʏ ᴍʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Valentino IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴜᴘꜱᴇᴛ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ❞ ◌ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ¦ 「 Valentino 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴀᴢᴇ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴇɴ ❞ ¦ 「 Vox 」 #questionablemuses #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ ɢᴏ ᴏꜰꜰ ❞ ¦ 「 Valentino and Vox 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

"Ugh. Why are you such a buzzkill? You could've stood up to Sera, yanno. Had her dismiss this whole meeting, but noooooo. Such a tool." ( Adam shut up jwhdkwjkdjlk; - for St. Peter c': ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Polite as Peter tries to be, even he can’t disguise the utter exasperated disbelief on his face as Adam lays into him for something he had NO control over. Granted, he’s used to this… A prominent figure when alive, it’s common to get blamed for every little thing that goes wrong. Whether he truly had a part to play or not. That’s the price of being a leader, he supposes. A price he never technically wanted but had thrust upon him regardless because of a grand incomprehensible plan— but it’s fine! Landed him here, didn’t it? An afterlife of mostly bliss HAS to be worth the price of a life struggling to fulfill the purpose he was given.

And failing a few times… Many times, as is human. Just with the added stressor of expectations far above what is normal.

But it was honestly fine.

❝ Uh… How much power do you think I have? ❞ Voice tinged with confusion that he HOPES doesn’t come across as insulting to Adam’s intelligence, Peter raises a slim brow. ❝ Because I think you’re severely overestimating my authority. ❞ True, he’s not some common angel. He was part of the ❛ inner circle ❜ , after all. The FIRST in the circle, even if his brother would claim he joined a bit quicker. Hell, he was the First Pope. One of THE most stressful jobs to ever exist, if he’s being honest. It’s hard to ignore the prestige that comes from such a track record…

But respect doesn’t always equate to power, and most days he feels like a glorified ❛ doorman ❜ . There to greet with a smile and a song, while his reputation focuses upon who he USED to be and not who he is. But again, that's common for him. Even when alive, focus was on who he would BECOME. His future or his past always at the forefront, his present never quite what people care about.

... Honestly, it's fine.

❝ I can't just tell Sera what to do... Besides, why didn't YOU try to stop her if you had a problem with it? You're always saying and doing whatever you want anyway. ❞ It's honestly impressive how unabashedly obnoxious Adam is. Peter could never have such boldness... Partially because he's not an asshole, but also due to not having the confidence to try even if he wanted to. 「 ☆ 」

#(( *shoves a smol boi @ Adam rip* ffngjkdfgdf )) #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ; ᴜɴᴅᴇʀɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴜᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 St. Peter IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 St. Peter 」 #questionablemuses #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴅɪᴄᴋ ❞ ¦ 「 Adam 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜʏ ᴀᴍ ɪ ꜱᴏ ᴄᴜʀɪᴏᴜꜱ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴇʀʀɪᴛᴏʀʏ ɪꜱ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 St. Peter and Adam 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

"Hey Rusty, why don't you put a sock in it, huh? We're all tired of your yapping. Go bother your boyfriend or something." || Zill to Rusty - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ᴡᴏʀʟᴅʟʏ-ᴅɪᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴛʏ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Rusty would hardly call his insults YAPPING. If that were true, then Jack wouldn't shrink at the mere sight of him. That's a word reserved for small, annoying dogs who don't have any bite to back up their bark. True, he may not have the best record when it comes to actually winning the fights he relentlessly hurls himself into... but at least he's not too chicken to TRY. One could argue that small and annoying still fit, if they wanted to find themself in the midst of one of those fights.

❝ He's NOT my boyfriend! ❞ Defensive snapping is a bit too quick, the flushing of Rusty's cheeks not helping his stance. Fur on the back of his neck bristles, a stripe forming down his spine down to his fluffed up tail. Fists clench at his sides as he spins on his heel to face Zill, lip curled with a growl. Before he can go on yet another tirade about how not gay he is, snarl slips into a satisfied sneer as he decides a DIFFERENT way to handle this.

❝ Heh— It's real interestin' that you're giving me shit for having a pathetic little gay-boy following me around, when you've got Bad Luck Jack right on your heels. ❞ Crossing his arms, he tilts his head, ear flopping to the side, ❝ What— You get off on how clearly he's into you or somethin'? Stringing him along until it's not fun anymore. ❞ Trying to take attention off his own clearly complicated relationship with his best friend, Rusty barks out a harsh laugh to drive the point home before—

❝ At least throw the guy a bone and invite him to a threesome with that Kayla chick. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ... ʜᴏᴡ’ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀʏ ɢᴏɪɴ’; ʜᴜʜ? ❞ ¦ 「 Rusty IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ; ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ ɢʀᴀʙ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Rusty 」 #worldly-diversity #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ❞ ¦ 「 Zill 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

"You are so infuriating." ( I still have to add him, but I want. Vassago for Andrealphus c: ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @questionablemuses 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Ah, there it is. It wouldn't be a proper interaction with Vassago without a complaint falling from the others lips. With how effortlessly he manages to ruffle the parrot's scarlet feathers, one would think Andrealphus would grow bored of this game. But on the contrary, it becomes more intriguing with the passage of time. How could it not, when Vassago proves himself incapable of denying the peacock his attention? Annoyed as it may be... Vass still falls prey to the others impish whims.

He so rarely gets the opportunity to indulge in his less stoic side when around other high-class demons. Most of them overly-important ( too much so to risk the family reputation; especially with how much of its weight rests upon HIS shoulders thanks to the Stella debacle ) or having far less amusing reactions to poking and prodding. Thankfully, Vassago is a... special case.

❝ My, my— Aren't we the kettle calling the pot black~ ❞ Andrealphus tuts through an airy chuckle, ice hues glowing as he peers through low lids. Having found a smile can be far more infuriating than a scowl, he keeps a smug upturn to his beak as he chides, ❝ I have yet to see so much as a smile nor hear a single polite word from your lips since I approached you. Which is rather rude, if you ask me. ❞ As if he is one to talk when it comes to manners. Impeccable politeness laced with passive-aggressiveness at best and a fabricated ego at worst.

❝ This has been an absolutely dreadful conversation... Quite unbefitting someone of your high standing— ❞ Tilting his head, voluminous plumage fluffs a smidge ( looking soft as freshly fallen snow ) as his flowing tail gives a discreet flick, blue sparkles dancing from the end of the feathers to land upon the ground while he deeply purrs. ❝ —Vassago~ ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#(( :3ccccccccc )) #(( we Work Fast lmao )) #burning-fcols #andrealphus ic tbt #questionablemuses #vassago tbt #andrealphus and vassago tbt #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

For awhile there, Ambrose manages to keep his cool, to remain as collected as he can. Staying a step behind Vox as he makes his announcement. Though whenever his boss seems to start talking, he tends to zone out. Getting lost within that voice of theirs, causing something to stir inside of him. Oh, shit. When did they stop walking?  He's flustered, immediately apologizing for bumping into Vox as he had. "I —— I am so sorry, sir. I don't know what happened. Are you okay?" ( tosses over something for early stuff? ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @questionablemuses 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Words pouring out as quickly as his mind could switch between topics, Vox had been bombarding his new assistant with the ins-and-outs of what his day would entail. A relentless assault of meetings with both powerhouses of industry and the blood-sucking reporters who are waiting for those endeavors to fail. Finding someone to replace the previous disaster of an assistant— they don't make sinners as sturdy as they used to, his last underling reduced to a nervous-wreck within the first week of entering the hectic tower —couldn't have come at a better time.

If Vox had to solely juggle his schedule as well as handle any alterations that will undoubtedly befall it— what he wouldn't give for a bit of consistency, Hell and its inhabitants never ceasing to show a disregard for order —any longer, he may have lost his mind... Fine, he would have handled it with the same ruthless determination that GOT him this position in the first place. But it's still a relief to have someone around to help lighten the crushing load. Now Vox can go back to feeling as though he's constantly treading water instead of fighting to keep his head above it.

Gaze was riveted on his phone, scanning through messages as he informed the other man. Vox skidding to a halt at the abrupt assault of aggravated texts SPAMMING his screen thanks to Valentino. Context somewhat lost thanks to poor eyesight and hasty typing. ❛ Fuck, not today. ❜ Annoyed thoughts are interrupted by being bumped into. Fumbling with his phone for a second, he manages not to drop it. With a sigh, he turns to face the bumbling employee. Although, Vox can't entirely blame the other for not stopping in time. It's not as though he was given any forewarning.

❝ Calm down, I'm fine. ❞ He dryly responds, instinctively trying to quell any freak out before it can begin. Val acting as proof to how quickly emotions can spiral out of control. Albeit, this would be more irritating than dangerous. Hand raises placatingly, Vox sparing a glance down at his phone while distractedly adding, ❝ It takes a lot more than a bump to hurt me... ❞ Valentino also providing proof to what strain his body can handle. Both in terms of pleasure AND pain. Tapping out a quick response to his partner, he adds, ❝ I'm going to need you to pick up some flowers later. ❞

❝ I'll send you the address of the florist and the time they'll be ready. It'll be a big arrangement, so take a car. I won't have it ruined thanks to a stroll through Hell. If they try to skimp on the roses, just remind them of what happened LAST time. Same threat if a single flower looks like it's not in the prime of its life. I see a one wilted bloom and it's coming out of your pay. ❞ Looking back at the other man, he quirks a brow and inquires in a less curt voice, ❝ Did you get all that, Ambrose? ❞

Employees seem to appreciate when he knows their names, so he tries to showcase that when applicable. Especially if they've had a personal task unexpectedly thrust upon them. It's good for morale. 「 ☆ 」

#burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ɪ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Vox IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ʙʀᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴡ ᴅᴀᴡɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Vox 」 #questionablemuses #ambrose tbt #vox and ambrose tbt #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

Travis can't help it. He doesn't like what he's seeing & why should he? Anthony was practically hanging all over that cat looking guy! Drooling by the looks of it! It stirs something ugly in the pit of his stomach & a growl bubbles from the back of his throat. Yes, Angel is a porn star, yes he was bound to flirt. But to where he could see it? When it wasn't even for work? That guy looked like he was getting genuine flirts & that alone wasn't fucking fair! After all he cared for Anthony. Was even going so far as to having his back during a tough work day & this was what he got to see in turn? Hands are clenched into tight fists as he waits until the other guy left the scene before striding up to Angel, looking clearly torn between angry & just disappointed. "You've got some fucking nerve. Who is he, huh?" ( uh-oh :'3 -sends another jelly bean- ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Ever since that first after-work conversation with Travis— a genuine, surprisingly non-creepy one —things have been changing between them. Not intentionally; Angel is smart enough not to seek a listening ear from the guy whose life mission is to get back in the porn star’s pants. That’s just asking for obnoxious attempts at manipulation. But Travis is a persistent sort. Only lately, his relentlessness has reared its head in ways that DON’T make Angel want to rip out the other’s feathers. Who would have thought Travis could be kinda sweet when not drooling all over the place? In a way that, reluctant as Angel is to fully believe it, doesn’t seem fake.

Still laced with selfish intent ( as things always are ) but— crazy as it sounds —it feels more like he’s being romanced than seduced. As if the crazy avian thinks he has a shot at MORE than another fuck. As if Angel could ever be allowed to pursue more, even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t. He can’t. Not letting himself entertain such stupid hypotheticals, Angel had tried to leave such troubles BEHIND him along with the work day. But apparently, he wouldn't be allowed even that reprieve.

Startling at the unexpected newcomer, Angel abruptly stops before he can follow Husk through the doors of the hotel. Having ran into the bartender taking a breather outside— needing to get away from whatever bat-shittery was going on in the lobby —Angel hadn't wasted the opportunity for good-natured flirting banter. Hoping to distract himself from the headache of a Director he THOUGHT he left behind and fervently trying to ignore how his actions felt more playful than serious. How interacting with Husk ( despite being a comfort ) didn't elicit the same... confusing tightness in Angel's chest. One would think that'd be a good thing.

It's not.

Tensing, he rolls his eyes with a mutter of ❝ Stai scherzando, cazzo. ❞ before sharply turning on his heel to face Travis. Speaking louder so the other can hear, fur bristles as he emits an indignant scoff and dryly retorts, ❝ Oh— I've got some fuckin' nerve? Big talk comin' from th' STALKA' on my fuckin' doorstep. ❞ Fists clenched at his sides, one arm dramatically sweeps across himself as if motioning in the direction of the V Tower, ❝ What, suffocatin' me durin' work ain't good enough fer ya anymore? You gotta stick yer beak inta my business here 'cause I won't let ya stick yer dick inta my ass THERE? ❞

Bitterly barking out a laugh, Angel crosses his arms and questions through a sardonic smile, ❝ Or are ya here on ❛ official bus'ness ❜ ? Hmm? Y'doin' th' Vees dirty work like a loyal li'l bitch? Did one of THEM send ya here ta ruin my fuckin' night. ❞ Frankly, he doubts it. If Valentino wanted something, his phone would be blowing up. Vox likely would have sent one of his other assistants. Someone less liable to get distracted from the task at hand... and Velvette isn't the type to work through people who aren't directly under HER influence. But Angel spats out the accusation regardless, hoping to remind Travis exactly WHAT connects them.

They both happen to belong to the same shitty group of people. Nothing more.

He purposely ignores the question about Husk— he's not about to throw around specific names to someone with a jealous demeanor and access to Valentino —hoping to throw Travis off-balance enough for him to neglect to realize he didn't actually get an answer. 「 ☆ 」

#hari don't look #(( *puts this early when things were Starting to go good because UwU* )) #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴛʀᴀ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Angel Dust 」 #questionablemuses #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴜɴᴅʀᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇʜᴇᴀʀꜱᴀʟ ❞ ¦ 「 Travis 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇ’ꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ; ɪ ᴅᴏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust and Travis 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[burning-fcols]

Do you ship radiobelle or radioapple?

(( I wouldn't say I ❛ actively ❜ ship Radiobelle, because I'm not super invested in it like I am with other ships. But I'm not OPPOSED to it either. Although, when it comes to my Alastor— he is somewhat tricky? Not impossible to ship with and i do LOVE writing him navigating troublesome Feelings *sets down this Invitation for people* , but it does take development and in-universe time ( and him dragging his lil deer feet, being confused/concerned as HELL because Oh Fuck No ) Whereas with my Charlie or Lucifer, things probably wouldn't be quite as much of an issue XD ))

(( As for Radioapple— i love that shit. I'm reaching for it with my gremlin hands. I'm posting it all over my blog. I made a fankid whomst I adore with some friends because this bitch Vibes. Yeah, I guess you could say I actively ship it. dfjkgndfkgdf ))

#(( *uses an Alastor icon because i love him and shall take the Opportunity* )) #(( also tfw No Morningstar is save from the deer's Charms lmao )) #burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ’ᴍ ᴀᴅᴅɪᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ᴀᴛʟᴀɴᴛɪꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 OOC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ᴅʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴜᴘ ꜰᴏʀ ɴᴏᴡ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Anonymous 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」