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sciencebecameouraddiction · 3 months

Note

Would you be open to doing a Dad!Husk with daughter reader but nobody knows (except Alastor ofc) until she gets drunk with Angel after seeing a similar scene from episode 5 with Husk and Alastor and starts crying because she’s afraid of losing her dad, and everyone puts the pieces together when Husk starts comforting her? Sorry that it’s super specific 😅

First off, oh my gosh, thank you for your request!!!

It’s all good! I love this prompt! I know that you said reader ends up getting drunk but the story took a bit of a different turn and you just end up going to the bar sober.

I hope that I still did this fic justice though! 🖤

rating: PG

genre: angst and fluff

characters: Dad!Husk x Reader

warnings: abuse, soul owning, panic attack from reader

You knew that being in Hell came with a price. Your dad had tried to shield you from the more… fucked up parts of Hell. But he couldn’t save you from everything, which is why when you were younger he made you promise to never tell anyone you were his daughter. So, you were a kid he found and was taking care of, his assistant, apprentice, a bar back when he was bartending. Which was how you ended up at the hotel.

You knew that your father’s soul was owned by Alastor, who had been nothing but pleasant to you, but there was still a bitterness in your mouth when you looked at him or talked to him. It was at the point where you could forget the fact that Alastor owned Husk’s soul. There were times you were reminded though and reality crashed upon you rudely. Like when both you and Husk were summoned to the hotel to help, and you became a trusty bar back and bartender in training, keeping the secret of Husk’s relationship to you.

This night though, your dad had gone off to find Alastor and Angel had been at the bar asking about different drinks. You couldn’t remember what actually went into Angel’s drink and neither did he saying, “It’s something Husk makes… special. Ya know?”

You sighed and just explained you’d go find Husk and get the ingredients, muttering about getting a recipe book for the bar. You were walking the halls when the lights started flickering. You ran to the hall where it was the worse, seeing Alastor conjure the chain that wrapped around your dad’s neck. Watching as the Radio Demon transformed into his demonic figure and your dad crouched on the ground.

“If this happens again, I’ll make sure you and every other disrespectful wretch knows exactly who they are messing with. Understood?” Alastor says, his voice low.

“Understood.” Husk said as Alastor went back to his normal self.

“Good man.” Alastor whistled as he walked away and you stood there around the corner clutching your chest. Your breathing too quick and tears in your eyes.

‘He wouldn’t actually kill dad, would he?’ you thought to yourself, the reality of Alastor owning Husk’s soul crashing down upon you. You quickly leave the hallway, not wanting your dad to see that you had been there, as you got back to the bar. Still trying to calm your breathing, Angel’s words asking if you got the recipe sounded like they were underwater. You nodded your head to whatever he said, and tried to start making his drink with whatever you thought went into it. Thinking you were doing a pretty good job at not showing how close you were to breaking. Until Angel came behind the bar, grabbing your shoulder and spinning you around to face him. His eyes widened.

“What’s wrong toots?” He asked, his hands gliding over your arms comfortingly and giving you a once over to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“I-I-He-And I-“ And sobs just crashed against your lips as you fell against Angel. Angel freezes in shock, and holds you, trying to calm you down. Charlie and Vaggie hear and come over seeing you a wreck. Your sobs not quieting and now all three are consoling you and attempting to get you to calm down enough to actually understand what’s wrong.

Husk finally comes down stairs, sighing and sees a crowd around the bar, normally crowds and bars are synonymous but not at this hotel. He walks over, his ears picking up your cries, automatically going into protection mode. He brushes through everyone and sees Angel consoling you.

“What’s going on?” He asks and before Angel can answer, you launch yourself at Husk. Still crying, but settling down as you feel him in your arms. Your hand going to his wrist where you could feel his heartbeat and feeling that calms you down further.

“What happened?” He murmurs to you, his arms and wings wrapped around you.

“Angel’s drink-And I didn’t know th’ ingredien’s-Went to find you. And saw you and-and-Al…” You trailed off and buried yourself in Husk’s chest.

“Oh sweetheart.” He murmured. His head dropping to rest on top of yours. “I’m so sorry.”

Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie all look at each other.

“So, that’s not just some bar back, bartender in training you got off the street?” Vaggie asks.

“Yeah, you’s both seem a little familiar with each other.” Angel adds. Husk sighs.

“‘m sorry.” You say lifting yourself off Husk.

“You don’t have anything ta be sorry for. I should be the one apologizin’.” Husk says, his hand on your cheek.

“Not at all.” You shake your head at him.

“Oh shit.” Angel says now looking at you both. “Is that your daughter Husk?” You look wide eyed at Angel and then your dad.

“Yes, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, meet my daughter, Y/N.” Husk says, gesturing to you.

“Hi!” You say waving, looking a bit sheepish. “I’m so sorry we didn’t say anything before. It was just safer this way because-“ Husk interrupts you.

“I’m sure they understand, sweetheart.” Husk looks at all of them and all nod. “And I’m sure this isn’t information that will be getting out either.” Husk looks at all of them again. Again everyone nods.

“On my word, this will stay between us.” Charlie promises.

“Not a word.” Vaggie says. Angel just makes the motion of his lips being zipped and throwing away the key.

“Now, who was wanting a drink?” Husk says, stepping behind the bar.

“Oh, that was me!” Angel pipes up and sits down.

“O’ course it was.” Husk mutters as he starts making the drink and Charlie steps forward more.

“Can we ask questions? I have so many.” She says, looking at Husk then you. You look back at your dad and he motions you forward. You smile and sit next to Angel as Charlie and Vaggie sit down too.

“What do you want to know?” you ask.

The rest of the night was spent around the bar as Charlie, Vaggie and Angel got to know you outside of what you had just been telling them and you had fun poking fun at your dad at times, recounting times like how he taught you to count with poker chips. The laughter bled into the night and marked one of the happier nights that you could remember and for the first time, you were happy to be at the Hazbin Hotel.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #dad!husk #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #dad!husk x reader #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel fluff

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nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx · 2 months

Text

Anthony

"Angel!" Nothing, "Angel Dust!" Still no fucking response, "ANTHONY!"

"Don't call me that fucker."

"Great so you can hear me."

"What the fuck do you want?"

"You aren't going back to him."

"Leave me the fuck alone on that one Husker." He didn't even react to the Husker part,

"He's a fucked up bitch, he's fucking hurting you, you aren't going anywhere near him Anthony."

"Stop calling me that, and are you forgetting the fact that he fucking owns me?!"

"That doesn't make it any better."

"It's not like I have a choice, leave me the fuck alone Husk." Angel Dust walked straight out, ignoring any and all of the bartenders protest. Husk took a long sip of whiskey, another one who'd sold a soul without knowing what would come with it.

He'd locked himself in his room, there was nothing he could fucking do, he deserved this. He was in Hell for fucks sake he shouldn't be fucking surprised, he cried but it would never do anything, he was fucking helpless. At this point he was a living sex toy.

"One more time." He wanted to run,

"Of course." He said licking his lips. The chains, the lead, the lights. Nothing was new. He didn't feel it anymore, he couldn't fucking care anymore. Angel woke in a cold sweat, it was only a nightmare he told himself, but he knew it would happen tomorrow and every day to come after that. Another taste of those bitter lips, another day of getting used like a sex toy, what the fuck had his death come to?

He took a breath of nicotine in before throwing the cigarette out, he didn't need any more yelling today, he didn't know if he could handle it. He walked inside the hotel, sitting down at the bar.

"What's the strongest thing you got Husk?" Choosing to ignore the last conversation they had, sadly however, Husk didn't.

"We're not finished." He said in a matter of fact voice.

"Just give me something strong Husk, I don't have the energy for this."

"Later." Tears fell from his eyes,

"I- I just don't want to fucking feel right now."

"When you're in deep shit trust me being numb won't make any of your shit work out later."

"It's too much."

"Hey, listen to me Angel. We're going to get your soul back and that bitch away from you okay?"

"How?"

"You're forgetting we know the most powerful demons in Hell." They just sat in silence for a few minutes before they eventually moved on with the day, both hoping that this would be one of the last times Angel had to worry about Valentino. The one thing they had hope in.

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irkimatsu · 3 months

Note

I love your Husk works! Could you please write one where fem!reader gets along with everyone and Husk doesn't even realize that he's catching feelings, but maybe on a night out with everyone, someone comes up and starts heavily flirting with her. Ends with confessions and sugary sweet tooth rotting fluff please. 😍

God damn, anon, do you have any idea how hard it is to wring a confession out of this man? I was going along at a steady pace and then I got stuck for hours! I genuinely hope you like slowburn, because Husk doesn't go from zero-to-love easily. I think he's gotten a nice start here, though. It's definitely fluffy!

Husk/Fem!Reader starting a relationship. Mentions of drinking and attempted sexual assault that Husk interrupts before things get too heavy. SFW, 2.8k words. Enjoy! I hope this is what you had in mind, anon! Thank you so much for reading my works!

Your first few months staying at the Hazbin Hotel have gone quite smoothly; as smoothly as anything there can ever go, anyway. Charlie took an instant liking to you - she takes an instant liking to everyone, so it’s nothing special, but still. She can be a bit overbearing, but you know she means well, and she’s grateful to have someone who doesn’t immediately write off her trust exercises from the start.

Still, after all the sharing circles and art therapy, you occasionally find yourself craving more “adult” fun, and that’s where Angel and Cherri come in. It’s not that you don’t want to be redeemed, but what could be so sinful about enjoying yourself a little? You’re not doing anything dangerous or drastic, no drugs and no getting involved with the wrong people; you’re just having fun drinking, dancing, maybe smashing up some abandoned property if the opportunity strikes. Charlie can’t get mad at destruction if no one cares about the thing you just blew up, right?

The bartender, Husk, isn’t nearly as keen on those nights on the town, but you’ve still managed to bond with him on nights where you prefer to stay in. He’s a surprisingly good listener underneath his gruff exterior. (Perhaps too good of a listener; you hope he keeps ignoring whatever bullshit you might have spouted off after one too many of his cocktails.) He also has plenty of stories of his own, mostly from the time he spent alive. When you could get him talking, he’d weave incredible tales of nightlife, both from his home city in Las Vegas and all the other places he’d visited in his life. He seemed especially wistful when talking about a woman he knew back then. He could talk for hours about all the famous sites he was able to take her to, all the songs he would sing for her, and all the starry skies he’d dance with her under.

“It’s not like I blame her for leaving. I’m the one who screwed it up. But being in love… it was nice while it lasted.”

You try to encourage him with the hope that he could fall in love again, but he shakes his head with a bitter smile.

“I lost the ability to love years ago.”

—-

Your friendship with Angel and Cherri is so different compared to your friendship with Husk, so it took a few months before you could have a night out with all three of them. Charlie is once again less enthused about the idea of you four going out to party, but you promise to be relatively well behaved.

You promise, anyway. You can’t make promises for Angel’s sake, and as much as you love her, you know better than to have any faith in Cherri.

You’re surprised Husk agreed to come to a sex club at all. He never seemed like the type to be into that sort of thing. You’re less surprised to see that he has no intention of flirting with anyone and is instead perfectly happy to sit by the wall and knock back shots as quickly as the bartender can pour them.

Couldn’t he drink himself stupid back at the hotel, though? Why did he even come?

Is it just you, or has he been watching you the whole night?

The hours tick by, and you, Angel, and Cherri become progressively more wasted. Angel is currently hanging off of a muscular bull demon - damn, good for him - while Cherri tells you about another resident who used to stay at the hotel before he tragically lost his life during the last extermination.

“He was such a fucking idiot that it was charming, ya know? God damn I should have gotten to know him better when he was still around! I heard this rumor about him and never even got to find out if it was true!”

As she speaks, Cherri catches sight of a cobra demon who is currently chatting up a cluster of punk girls.

“Well, damn… maybe I’ll get to find out tonight. Don’t wait around for me, I’ll find my way back!”

With that announcement, Cherri is gone, leaving only you and Husk with about a dozen bar stools between you. He’s definitely keeping an eye on you; there’s still liquid in his glass, and he’s watching you instead of guzzling it.

What’s his deal? If he wants to spend the night with you, why doesn’t he just come over here? You decide not to go over there yourself; no sense in rewarding him if he’s playing mind games.

You instead turn your attention to a handsome wolf demon who has taken Cherri’s seat. “Drinking all alone, love?” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter. Right away this man gives you the air of a natural-born charmer who can win anyone’s trust within seconds, only to break their hearts within hours.

He’s hot, and you’re drunk. You’ll let him break your heart a little.

Your conversation starts normally enough, with low stakes topics like the music and the drink selection in the bar. You’re in no hurry to tell this man anything personal or leave this spot with him, but you’re enjoying looking at him and hearing him enough that you don’t mind being a bit of entertainment.

He bumps your knee with his at one point, but you pull your own knee away. At first he seems to take the hint, and time passes without any more advances.

Soon, however, he grows more bold.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else, baby?” he asks as he lightly squeezes your thigh. “Somewhere more private?”

“No thanks,” you say as you jerk your leg away, though the motion doesn’t make him let go. “I’m fine talking here.”

“You know this is a sex club, don’t you?” he says. His smile and voice haven’t changed, but somehow he seems much slimier than he did five minutes ago, and the strong paw gripping your leg that seemed so enticing in your head feels suffocating in reality.

“I’m not here for that, I’m just hanging out with friends-” You try to leave the stool, but the man throws his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in.

“Come on, babe! What did you think I was after by chatting you up like this? You’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” He’s holding you closely enough that his hot breath is hitting your face, and the stench of his cologne is making you gag. “C’mon, baby, I’ll show you a good time. You won’t regret this-”

“She said no.” Husk had somehow snuck his way to your side without you noticing, and was now glaring daggers at your pursuer. “Back off.”

“Who are you, her grandpa?” the wolf laughs, refusing to unhand you. “Or just a nasty old man who likes ‘em young?”

Your captor’s laughter is quickly interrupted by a high-pitched howl. His face is now adorned with four jagged, bleeding lines.

“What the fuck, old man?” he yells as he unhands you. Just as quickly as you’re unhanded, you’re grabbed again, this time by Husk grabbing your waist and pulling you away.

“I knew I fucking hated this place,” he growls. “Where are Cherri and Angel?”

You have no idea, but your first guess has you looking toward the sex rooms in the back of the club.

“Jesus Christ… they’ll find their own way home. Come on, we’re going back to the hotel.”

You don’t appreciate being dragged out of the club like a misbehaving child, but as the alcohol clouds your thinking, you can’t quite formulate a protest.

Considering how pissed off your admirer must be right now, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t stay.

—

The walk back to the hotel is blurry; if Husk had anything to say to you besides pissed off obscenities muttered beneath his breath, you don’t remember it. Your next memory finds you laying on the couch in the lobby, your head aching from a combination of a hangover and the time spent laying on the couch’s arm with your neck at a weird angle.

“What time is it…?” you murmur as your eyes try to adjust.

“About noon,” answers Husk from the bar.

As you continue to look around the lobby, he appears to be the only one here. “Where is everyone?” you ask through a yawn.

“Angel and Cherri still aren’t back, but I’m sure they’re fine. Charlie and Vaggie left to give you some quiet. Alastor and Niffty…” Husk shrugs after their names, then falls silent.

You groan as you push yourself into a sitting position, one that has you facing Husk. He doesn’t appear to have anything to do, and is instead standing with his chin resting on his crossed arms atop the bar. An awkward silence falls between the two of you, giving you plenty of time to observe Husk’s body language, particularly the way his tail is lashing behind him while his ear gives the occasional twitch.

He is not in a good mood.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Your well-meaning question only seems to piss him off further; he answers not with a word, but with a growl. “Is this about last night?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

“I’m sorry I caused you trouble…”

“Wasn’t your fault.” His tail lashes even harder. “Just don’t worry about it, all right?”

You’re going to keep worrying about it until he stops looking so on edge.

“Thanks for getting me away from that guy last night,” you say, just in case you didn’t thank him in your drunken haze.

“Hey, it’s what a good bartender does. When you see someone starting shit with another patron, even if it’s not your bar, you take care of the problem. That fucker had no right to put his hands on you after you told him to cut it out.”

He may be gruff, but at least he has standards.

“Can’t believe Cherri and Angel left you alone in there… those two better not take you to anymore fucking sex clubs, you don’t need to be around shit like that…”

“I’m a grown adult,” you protest. “I didn’t want to sleep with that guy, but if I did want to get with someone at that club, that’s my business.”

Husk’s eyes widen for a moment, before he returns to his original dour expression. “Yeah… guess you’re right.”

“And what about you? You didn’t look interested in picking up anyone last night. Why’d you even come?”

“How do you know I wasn’t interested?” he shoots back. “Maybe I was interested in someone! Maybe I just… didn’t have the balls to go for it.” He stands up straight and shakes his head. “Look, can we drop this? Hang out in sex clubs if you want, I don’t fuckin’ care.”

He’s speaking with the tone of voice of someone who very much cares.

“I’m done with ‘em, though. You’re right, you’re an adult, you don’t need me hanging around like some fuckin’ guardian angel.” He pours a glass of clear liquid, and you expect him to down it himself, but he instead steps out from behind the bar still holding the full glass. “I overreacted last night. Shouldn’t have made it your fuckin’ problem.” He approaches the couch, takes a seat, and offers you the glass. “Here, one last favor. Drink this and I’ll get off your ass.”

You take the cup, wondering if for some ungodly reason he’s trying to get you to down straight vodka.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s water. That headache’s only gonna get worse if you’re dehydrated.”

You take a sip of the water, and after only a few swallows you’re already regaining a bit of your desire to live. “Thanks,” you say before taking another large gulp.

“No problem,” he responds. You expect him to return to the bar, but he remains next to you on the couch. His body language has gotten no less agitated. What is going on with him?

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you doting on Angel or Cherri like this,” you observe before finishing the glass.

“They’re used to it, and they’ve got each other,” he says as he takes the glass from you. “You want some more?”

You shake your head, and he remains seated with the glass.

“You, though… I don’t know, something about that guy just pissed me off,” he says. “Even before he started touching you I didn’t like him. Bartender’s intuition, maybe? I’m still not over the awful feeling he gave me.” He sighs heavily. “I just… hate the idea of seeing you get hurt in a place like that. I know Angel and Cherri can take care of themselves, but you’ve never seemed as wild as they do, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Is that why you were watching me the whole night?” you asked.

Husk’s body jolts. “Shit, you noticed?”

“I kept looking over there wondering if you’d ever move from that spot, and if you weren’t actively drinking you were staring at me,” you said. “You weren’t subtle.”

Husk groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I know you’re capable. I was just…”

“You weren’t there because you were interested in someone at all, were you?”

“I never said I wasn’t. I mean it when I said I just didn’t have the balls to say anything to ‘em. Instead, I just wondered… what I’d do if someone else asked ‘em. Knowing it’d be my own damn fault for not speaking up sooner. Trying to tell myself it wasn’t that big a deal if they went with someone else… until someone started flirting with ‘em, and touchin’ ‘em, and-” His body tenses as he growls, but relaxes after a moment. “Damn it, I haven’t had to do this in years...”

“Done what?”

“You know what I said about losing my ability to love years ago?” He turns his head and looks directly at you for the first time since he sat down. “...I think I’m remembering how to do it again.”

Things are starting to fall into place. “And the person who helped you remember is…?”

The slightest of smiles crosses his face. “Who do you think?”

You wouldn’t have guessed it before today, but it all seems so obvious in retrospect. He’d spent so many nights with you when he could have been in bed, just chatting with you or comforting you after a bad day. You’d really grown so fond of his smile, and Angel had told you before that he used to never smile.

But surely, you thought, he couldn’t have been smiling because of you…

“What am I even saying?” he asks as he turns away from you. “You died in the prime of your life, and down here you can have that prime forever. You could do so much better than a washed up old drunk.”

“You’re not washed up,” you assure him as you place your hand over his. “I think it’s great that you got to live such a full life! You have so many stories to tell, and so many talents… I bet there’s so much you haven’t told me yet.” You try to reassure him with a smile and a light squeeze to his hand. “So much you haven’t shown me, either. You talk a lot about when you were in a band, but I’ve never gotten to hear you play…”

“I haven’t touched an instrument in years,” he says. “I bet I don’t even remember how to play anymore.”

“Well, you don’t know if you don’t try, right?”

You don’t think you’re just saying that about instruments.

“It’s been such a long time… what if I screw up?”

You don’t think he’s just talking about instruments either.

“It can’t hurt to try. Maybe… maybe you’ll enjoy it even more than you remember.”

“Hmm…” He doesn’t seem fully at ease, but he hasn’t taken his hand back yet. “If I can get my hands on a saxophone, and I really haven’t forgotten how… sure. I’ll play for you.

…you just have to give me some time, okay? I’m not used to it anymore… especially with another person…”

“Take all the time you need,” you assure him.

He turns his hand around so he can hold yours back, and his smile seems to grow slightly. “Just gotta start slow… get used to things again…”

“You’ll be fine, I know you will,” you assure him. He seems content to leave the conversation there, but there’s one more thing you need to say. “Husk?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I’ll be going back to that club. No point when I’m not interested in picking up dates anymore.”

He squeezes your hand. “Glad to hear it.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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tothemeadow · 9 months

Text

Commissioned by anonymous

Rengoku Shinjuro x (Male) Reader

With a life full of hardships and never truly knowing "peace", maybe it's about time for Shinjuro to truly let go.

warnings: NSFW, Shinjuro's alcoholism and depression, hair pulling, some humiliation, lol he's a bottom, age gap

notes: just some angst and Shinjuro getting it up the butt, modern AU where demons are still a thing, written from a past tense and then in present

words: 2.1k

Rengoku Shinjuro, by all means, is not the soft, compliant type.

No, throughout his years, it’s always been Rengoku, do this or Rengoku, do that. Hailing from such a prestigious family, he’s never been granted a true taste of freedom, a true taste of himself. Ever since he was young, he’s been subjected to harsh training and grueling lectures of how terrible the real world is. For centuries, the Rengoku name has been a stone in the demon slaying world, and – quite literally – a pillar for others to look up to.

His personality became sour as thus. He was lucky enough to score himself such an incredible wife (at least that’s what the others whispered behind his back). Even more, that very wife bore two heirs. The Rengoku bloodline has never given birth to females; they always relied on outside sources to keep that pure bloodline flowing, to keep the locks of flames and sunburst eyes carrying from generation to generation.

Shinjuro should’ve been happy. He had a beautiful wife, a set of boys, was alive.

But.

And that’s what it is, the but that comes with everything in life.

He would never grow to know true peace. His sons, also born in this cruel, cruel world, wouldn’t be able to dream of it. They are Rengoku’s, after all, and they’d be damned if they didn’t carry on the tradition of their ancestors.

His bitterness only grew when Ruka, his beloved, passed. His sorrows could only be drowned out by limitless booze, the pain in his heart much too suffocating for him to bear. It didn’t take long after that for him to rid himself of the Flame Hashira title and close himself in from the world. He was no longer Rengoku Shinjuro, whoever the hell that even was. He was only the husk of a man, the pathetic wick left behind from a burned-out candle.

Drinking became Shinjuro’s new passion. The bottle became his best friend. His fist rarely became lonely, knuckles long gone white from the ceaseless clasp. Both of his sons became strangers, struggling to withstand the man their father had become. The eldest, Kyojuro, eventually took his brother away, the two of them moving in with Uzui-sama, the smug bastard.

Things had never been easy. Not when he was a child, and certainly not when he grew into adulthood.

The strong pillar of a man became nothing more than a pile of rubble.

It began with a single drink and a prolonged stare.

Shinjuro (unsurprisingly) frequented many bars, usually too stir-crazy to stick with one for too long. It was only when he found a hole-in-the-wall that he finally settled, decided that this was it.

He’d spent too many nights staring into the bottom of empty glasses, wondering if he would pass out in the bathroom and never get up again. Perhaps someone would start a fight and try to swing a stool at his head – no, that wouldn’t work, he’d been beaten up by too many god-forbidden creatures for a stool to do any real damage.

Needless to say, when the bartender silently placed another glass of his go-to before him, Shinjuro was surprised. Normally, he would signal for another round with a grunt or a slew of drunken words. The bartender only gave him half a smile, his head jerking to the other side of the bar. Shinjuro’s eyes merely followed, a strong brow quirking up his forehead.

Hah.

You were just some punk ass kid, most likely the same age as his son. Granted, he kept his hair long, but that was about it when it came to feminine qualities. Thick hair, though blond, covered the entirety of his arms and chest, and his face was in a constant stage of stubble. Shinjuro knew he wasn’t a looker. Why had you looked at him from everyone else in the bar, he couldn’t possibly fathom. He figured it had to deal with the dim lighting.

But no, you took that glance as the greenlight and hopped from your stool, scurrying your way to where Shinjuro sat. You gave a simple May I?, body hesitant and eyes hopeful. Frankly, Shinjuro couldn’t care. A free drink was a free drink and if he was lucky enough, he would forget all about this encounter anyway.

Or so he hoped.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. One moment, you were trying to crack jokes and butter him up with saccharine words; the next, he was flat on his back on his mattress, in his home, with you in between his legs. Your pants were hot and heavy in his ear, lips skimming the stubble adorning his jaw as your cock pounded in and out of him.

Shinjuro would never.

He wasn’t the kind to lay dormant and let others take control of the reins. He was a Rengoku, for fuck’s sake. He used to be a goddamn Hashira. He’s a man, not some broken down little whore who’s prying for attention or money or-

And then he came, all hot and thick, coating his abs in a sticky feeling he’s not used to. His mind cleared, heartbeat shuddered, back ached – he’s not cut out for this shit.

But.

It’s always the fucking buts that come with life.

A good lay is a good lay, and god knew how long it’s been since Shinjuro had one of those.

Getting drunk is all that mattered, no matter the method.

“I need you to relax, love,” you breathe into his ear.

A shiver ripples down Shinjuro’s spine. A shaky sigh graces the air as he snuggles further into the pillow. Splayed out on his stomach, Shinjuro’s completely at your mercy; you straddle his behind, hands slick with oil as they rub and dig into the many knots throughout his back. Unlike you, Shinjuro is bare naked. Your clothed groin grinds into the split of his cheeks, just barely a chub.

Glancing over his shoulder, Shinjuro catches the quick glint of the band encircling your finger. Heart leaping to his throat, his insides squeeze as water gathers in his eyes (it might be because of the particularly deep knot you’re pressing at, but still.)

The universe… finally decided he deserved a break.

After that fateful encounter that night (and the back-breaking sex), you somehow… got into Shinjuro’s good graces. You made breakfast for him the next morning, rubbed his sore muscles, joked about his bedhead and morning breath… It was so domestic. It had been too long since another soul had graced his home, and it was almost too overwhelming…

A date led to another, sex became a regular thing, and Shinjuro found that he enjoyed letting loose and having someone else take hold of the reins. There wasn’t any Rengoku, do this! screaming in his ears, only your gentle tone telling him to take it deeper and praising him for being such a good boy.

It didn’t take long for you to ask for his hand in marriage. For one, Shinjuro never dreamed of remarrying, much less to a person of the same sex. Two, for that someone to be just as kind and gentle as Ruka was, only to totally switch sides behind closed doors, was something else entirely. Shinjuro never pictured himself as the type to be physically or romantically involved with another man, but life had other plans.

“You’re tensing up,” you murmur, your voice stirring him away from his thoughts. You place a kiss to his spine. “What are you thinking about?”

What did I do to deserve this?

It’s not like Shinjuro is a kind man. He did his job, put another generation of Rengoku’s into the world, then sank into a depressed stupor full of alcohol when he couldn’t find the will to live anymore. So what did the universe see in him? What did you see in him?

“Shinjuro, answer me.” Your voice, although soft, carries a harsh undertone.

“I’m a piece of shit,” Shinjuro grunts. It’s all too easy to see your displeased expression in his peripheral.

“We’ve talked about this,” you tell him.

And yeah, you did. He came clean about his trauma, about the demons plaguing the world, his dead wife, his estranged sons. You had some daddy issues of your own (surprise). The two of you were floating in dead space, drifting with the passing days. It was sort of a miracle when you two met.

“I know,” is all Shinjuro says, the words dissipating into a sigh.

Scooching off from his bottom, you easily push the muscular, hairy thighs apart and settle in between. Slicking up your thumb with more oil, you press the digit between his cheeks, slowly caressing the pursed hole.

“Obviously, we have to go over it again,” you tell him. “Tell me why I love you.”

Heat floods to Shinjuro’s face. Mind you, he never blushes. He stares hard at the wall across from him, thankful for the pillow smooshing the other side of his face. He knows he should answer. Last time he disobeyed, you bent him over your knee like a bratty child and spanked him until the skin matched the red in his hair. He almost craves for you to be rough with him, to put him in his place.

“I’m the father you always wanted to fuck.” It’s a poor attempt at a joke. Humor has never been Shinjuro’s strong suit. He does, however, receive a light swat against his behind in warning.

“Horrible answer. Try again.”

He grunts when you grasp onto a meaty asscheek, your hand roughly kneading it. Your thumb barely presses against his hole.

“Brat,” Shinjuro mutters. How ironic. If anyone is the brat in this relationship, it’s him. “Husband loves my physique, the hair on my chest, my ass-“ he wiggles his butt as he says this, “-and how I’m such a good boy.”

You reply with a snort. “Wouldn’t kill you to indulge me a little…”

A groan gets bit short when you abruptly grasp onto the loose strands of blond hair and yank. Shinjuro’s head cranes backwards, his neck screaming from the effort. Hot kisses land on his spine, the thumb encircling his hole dipping in slightly. Easing out and in, you tease him slowly, relishing in his heavy breaths and foggy eyes.

His cock stirs; Shinjuro wastes no time grinding it into the mattress, knees and hips raising to meet your touch. Hardened nipples graze the sheets, his heavy tits heaving with each ragged pant. It takes practically no effort anymore to get him stirred up, to have him hungry for your cock.

“My big, muscular boy,” you say, teeth skimming along the line of his spine, “so desperate to be fucked like a whore. Is this what a fall from grace looks like? To be on your hands and knees, waiting for someone to belittle you and make you theirs?”

Your dominance is unlike anything Shinjuro has ever seen. Usually, you’re all soft words and warm hands, willing to help him with anything. A perfect little househusband, you told him once, a giggle hanging from your lips. Someone to be there when you need them most.

But this…. This is something else.

You grope at the muscles of his back, his ass, his tits – you leave nothing untouched, besides his cock. A hand keeps his hips steady as you slip your cock inside, the hot resistance clasping down in a vice-like grip. Shinjuro moans weakly into the pillow, precum leaking from his neglected cock. You waste no time pulling back and snapping your hips into him, cock plunging in to the hilt. Your balls slap heavily against his ass, fingers moving from spreading his cheeks further apart to pulling at his hair.

“Mine,” you hiss into his ear, but then follow up with a quick kiss. “So soft, compliant… What a spectacle you are. I bet no one would ever have guessed that the former Flame Hashira would like getting cock so much…”

Blood thunders in his ears. With a slight whimper, Shinjuro buries his face in the pillow, shame and arousal making his skin simmer and cock leak like a faucet.

“Ah, ah, ah, honey, don’t hide your face, it’s just us here,” you say, tone switching to something buttery smooth and sweet. Your actions clearly contradict your words; you snatch his head back with a firm grasp, fingernails grazing against his skull. Your cockhead attacks his prostate with a deadly precision. Soon, Shinjuro is nearly sobbing, mouth lax and fingers clenching onto the sheets.

You fuck him to completion, his eyes rolling back in his skull as his balls pull tight and he cums in several long, drawn-out spurts. Your hands easily reach around his chest and clutch onto his pebbled nipples, your lips finding the side of his neck.

He expects you to finish inside him and leave it at that, but…

As he learned long ago, there are always buts.

You never get to let him know what that but is.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku shinjuro #rengoku shinjuro x reader #kny smut #commission #male reader

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 months

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Hello! I gotta tell you that I read your recent Husk x reader fic and I AM IN LOVEEEE!!! I absolutely love it! I keep constantly going back to re-read it!! You’ve truly put your all in all in that fic!! So I’m here’s my question or questions lol. Can you write more based off that fic? IF NOT THATS FINE AS WELL!! I’m just curious, like would Husk and reader tell the everyone about their relationship? Would reader stay at the hotel even if she is an overlord? Would she involve herself in the fight now? UGHH I JUST HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS I CANT EVEN COMPREHEND THEM!!

(If you don’t feel comfortable with this ask/question PLS ignore me! 🙏 I’ll understand if you do lol [also this is my first ever ask on this app, I’m so nervous 😖])

Dont forget to take care of yourself first! Mentally, physically, emotionally, etc! 🫶

Hii! Thank you so much for all the kind words, you made me so happy!!! And I am beyond excited that you liked the story! <3

Secondly, don't be nervous to send asks, darling, you are very much welcome here, and I'm sure all creators are of the same mind <3

As to answer your question - I don't know if I'll write an actual part 2 for the fic (And if I do, I'll probably have to wait for at least Season 2 or so, to get more relevant plot)

However, I can answer your punctual question, and any other thing you'd like to ask about it! (In DMs also, if you feel more comfortable that way ^^)

So, to the question "Would Husk and Reade tell everyone about their relationship?" - They kinda already know.

Alastor brought Reader to the Hotel and was the one to tell her of Husk's existence and position as his vassal/Hazbin's bartender. Angeldust knows the story, and being Husk's friend, he'll easily realise the correlation between Reader having all characteristics mentioned, and Husk's sudden radiance and bliss. That, and Husk will trail around Reader's pretty dress 24/7.

Charlie and Veggie would realise immediately, as soon as Reader's hand is hooked to his arm, and she makes him laugh. They can spot a couple from a mile away, and though Charlie would most likely be the type to throw a celebration party, Vaggie would calm her down immediately and things are fine.

That only leaves Sir Pentious, who silently gushes over how cute they are, and would start asking them for advice, to court Cherry also (and succeed)... And Nifty is just Nifty haha.

---

Second question is - "Would reader stay at the hotel even if she is an overlord?" and the question is - Sometimes. Basically, she would stay where Husk wants to stay. She has her own pretty home, in a rather chill and safe neighbourhood, but the Hotel has Husk's friends, and socialising is important. However, she hates Heaven and doesn't want to ascend - In that regard, she's terrified Husk would become an Angel, and they'd be separated again. On another note, dates at Reader's home are the sweetest and most romantic~ <3

The Third and final question is - "Would she involve herself in the fight now?" and the answer is - HELL YES. She died a violent death, she is spiteful and bitter on life and on death, and most of all, she is angry at Heaven for denying her, over a measly thing as having a high self esteem and loving herself and life above the limits. If possible, if any being threatened her, her love, her new idyllic life and her friends, she will go livid. Though she hates how abominable she looks, like a monster - She would not hesitate, a single second, to rip their wings apart and bite their throats off. She almost hated how she enjoyed carnage like Alastor did - It must be that she got desensitised to the horrors of Hell, and how meaningless life is, since they can just respawn, but she is driven by love and hatred. Her only crutch, for a long time, was Rosie, who gently introduced her to the madness of Hell, and their new life; She taught her how to continue her human life fashion and elegance, while also protecting herself and navigating the machinations of deals and raising above all those lesser than her. Consequently, after Husk was kicked out of the Overlord seat, it was her who took his place, recommended by both Alastor and Rosie. Needless to say, most of the others were pleased to have someone mentally stable and with no vices that could ruin the meetings or deals.

I hope you had fun reading this, and that it answered your questions! I'm always open to answer more, or chat about it <3! Have a lovely day, dear!

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switchypanic · 3 months

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Had a Husk post-finale angst scene pop into my mind - enjoy!

“Has… anyone seen Alastor?” Charlie asked. The rubble of the hotel was still smoking, dark pillars of smoke rising toward the crimson sky. “I haven’t been able to find him.”

The ragtag group of sinners gazed about the wreckage, unsure. No one had, apparently. Even Lucifer looked unsure of how to proceed.

“You don’t think he’s… dead, do ya?” Angel asked slowly. His gaze found Husk and held there. He knew that question had several… connotations for the bartender.

Slowly Husk raised a hand slowly to his neck. The method was practiced, clearly a familiar movement over the years. His fingers wrapped slowly into the air and tugged.

A green phantasmal chain of links formed into his palm and he felt himself tug forward.

Bitter disappointment stirred in his gut. Slowly, he released a weary sigh, then looked back to the group. “Nah. He’s still alive.”

NOOOOO! 😭 WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?

#answered

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sinnerzforsaintz · 2 years

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Husks wings fluttered as he made his way out of the casino while patting his pocket, making sure his winnings were still there. Wasn't like he hadn't had a run in with a pick pocket before, hell, he'd been mugged a few times too.

The casino was a hot bed for people down on their luck, just trying to get a quick buck. He'd been in the gutter a few times himself. At least he had a job and a place to sleep since taking Alastors deal though becoming the hotel's bartender wasn't top of his list, at least it was cushy compared to anything else.

Ears on end, the old man lit up a cigarette and started on his way. Another yawn as he blew the smoke above his head. He'd probably spent more time in the place then he'd meant to but at least he had walked out with the pot. No magical bullshit dragging him into the void, yeah, he might still be a little bitter over that loss but hed had plenty of wins since then. None were as good as that pile was going to be but wasn't that always the way?

Taking another drag off his smoke, he slipped a hand into his pocket and let his ears relax though they twitched every so often, listening for anyone that might be out to make their nightly dollar off him.

#husker things #husker starter #open starter

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hells-fvry · 4 months

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"bartender's choice"

send me "bartender's choice" for husk to make your muse a cocktail he deems fitting for them (X)

Bourbon, gin, Bitters, lime juice and ginger beer were mixed up this time, the glass being slid over to the latest patron with a blank look that spoke of hours far too long. "Suffering Bastard, figure that's what anyone who's stupid enough to cross you ends up as."

#muse: husker #wolfkcst

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raeynbowboi · 4 years

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Why I Believe Angel and Husker Will (or Should) Be Endgame

As a shipper and a writer, I pride myself on finding the meat in shipping material, and despite how little official content for it is available, Hazbin Hotel’s juiciest pairing (by my observation, and not counting Charlie x Vaggie cuz that’s already canon) is Huskerdust or Angelhusk, the main mlm pairing in Hazbin Hotel between Angel Dust and Husker. While I’m a big fan of any mlm pairing no matter how small the serving size, this one is an absolute feast, and I want to explain why I think that is, because Angel flirts with multiple men in the first episode, namely Sir Pentious, Alastor, and Husker. So he just comes across as a relentless flirt, but I believe his destiny truly lies with the grumpy sourpuss bartender.

Given what we’ve learned about Angel Dust from the Addict music video and the prequel comic, it’s becoming clear that Angel doesn’t exactly love his situation. He pretends it’s fun and glamourous for his image, but it’s all an act. In the very last pannel for the comic, we can even see a box of dildos in his room with the words “for fun” crossed out, and the box being relabled as “work stuff”. I believe that Angel’s arc and character growth will be strengthened by having a love interest who cares about Angel as something beyond a sex object. Travis and Valentino clearly only see Angel as a piece of meat. Even Tom Trench one of the... less horrible denizens of Hell we’ve met, only recognizes Angel as a porn star, implying that he too only values Angel for his body. The creators have even verified that Angel will have a love interest in the series. So, that’s the easy part. Angel’s very clearly a gay man, and him having a love interest will help put the romance back in relationships with men for Angel. No surprises there. So why will/should it be Husker who fulfills that role as Angel’s redeeming lover?

In the simplest terms, it’s because their needs fit together perfectly. Angel needs someone to care about him romantically that also values his emotions, mind, and autonomy instead of just his body. Husk has likewise pretty much spelled out the flaw he needs to fix. He lost the ability to love years ago. Whether he just shuts out his emotions, someone broke his heart and now he’s jaded and bitter, or he freezes out his feelings so he won’t get hurt again, Husk has rejected love and his feelings. Learning to love and open up to Angel helps Husk to overcome those toxic coping mechanisms. Especially because his other vices such as drinking, are an extension of his core issue. His hang-ups with love. He drinks to forget and suppress. Overcoming his issues with his emotions will help Husk free himself of other sins in the process. Now the important issue though, does Husker even like boys? Yes, he does. Husker was confirmed by members of the crew to be pansexual, so he is capable of finding Angel attractive. Also, on a related note, Alastor is both Asexual and Aromantic, so he’s very unlikely to give Angel the core thing he needs, the tender appreciation of his romantic partner. That’s not to say Asexuals and Aromantics can’t date, it’s just less probable. And all the other males are either villains, or objectify Angel already. Which kind of leaves Husker as the best candidate for Angel’s love interest, at least currently. In fairness we know very little about Baxter, but that’s the thing. Without knowing anything about him, we can’t really weigh him against the other options.

Character design is very important, as it can provide visual cues about a character. Looking at these two, they share a lot of similarities. Starting from the top, while not visible here, there is a heart-shaped spot on the back of Angel’s head, and this heart appears as well on Husker’s forehead, palms, and wings. More importantly, I may be wrong, but I believe the only characters with hearts in their design are all connected to Angel. Only Travis and Val share this heart motif, two men Angel has had sex with, though in Valentino’s case, it's not always willingly. They share their wearing of a bow tie, but to be fair, Charlie wears one too, as does Sir Pentious, so it’s a weak connection. Color theory also matters. Firstly, they are Yin and Yang. Angel is mostly white with a few dark accents, while Husker is mostly dark gray/black with white accents. Angel’s left eye, bow tie, and shorts/skirt are also the same color (or pretty close) as Husker’s darker fur patches on his forearsms, ankles, ear tips, and whiskers. The stripes on Angel’s top also repeat in Husker’s ears. Finally, while not repeating on Angel’s design, Husker’s fur on his ankles resembles spats, a fashion trend from the early 1900s. Although this trend was pretty dead in widespread use by the 1940s, it remained popular with gangsters and mafia, so much so that it’s almost a streotype of mafia. Angel’s family was an Italian crime family involved with mafia dealings. So while it makes little sense for a man who died in the 1970s to be wearing spats, it connects him to Angel’s ballpark of time as well as drawing connections to Angel’s past and his family.

Hazbin Hotel has Instagram accounts for the characters, and using Husker (bar_cat75) Angel Dust (angie_fluffy_bootz) and Niffty (babyfeathrdustr), we can put together further developments in their relationship off-screen. Starting with one of Husker’s posts, we see Angel leaning on the bar offering him a ticket to his “peep show”. The next post shows Husker still at the bar, but now there’s drool on the counter, and we can see the back of one of Angel’s legs and the red smoke from the Addict video trailing behind him with the line “Fuck, I passed out. Did I miss something?” Next, there’s a post from Niffty of Angel leaning on the railing smoking as he does in the post-credits sequence of the Addict video. Granted, I can’t tell how much of Addict is prequel and how much is happening in real time following the pilot, but we know at least the ending is canonically after the pilot episode. Seems like Angel wanted Husker there (we don’t know if he offered tickets to anyone else) and he seems bummed that he didn’t go, with a later message from Husker (that I can only seem to find in Tumblr posts) with Husker realizing that he missed Angel’s show and feels bad about it. As “owing” Angel a favor for missing his show, Angel leaves his beloved pet pig Fat Nuggets in Husker’s care, who proceeds to eat all of Husker’s limes and cherries. Now it is very important to point out that Fat Nuggets seems to fill the dual role of “purse dog” and emotional support animal for Angel, so leaving him in Husker’s care shows a lot of trust because this animal means a LOT to him. There’s also apparently rumors that Alastor keeps trying to eat Fat Nuggets which... I haven’t found a credible source for. But if Angel is worried about Fat Nuggets’ safety, him trusting Husker to protect his pig only further demonstrates his trust in the grumpy old booze cat. Upset about all the fruit Fat Nuggets ate (because it’s not easy to get in Hell) Husker wants Angel to pay to replace what the pig ate, but Angel argues that because Husker owed him a favor it’s not his responsibility. Angel says he’ll pay him if Husker agrees to come to his next show, and they compromise to get milkshakes instead. The creators said Husker was a Tsundere, and it shows. Someone called their outing a date, and Husker was QUICK to shout that it wasn’t a date, just settling up on a favor. This almost plays out like an episode 2, turning the Addict Video into the jumping off point for a second story in the hotel. I don’t know how many full narratives will come out of the Instagram accounts like this, but it’s really cool how they’re approaching this almost like a multi-media story, and I’m curious to see if this will continue when the show starts airing on television. One last thing of note is that in Angel’s latest post, there’s pictures of Fat Nuggets, Cherri Bomb, and Husker on his bedroom wall, much to Husker’s annoyance. In all of these Instagram posts, Angel seems to now be training ALL of his attention on flirting with Husk, to the point that unless another character sweeps Angel off his feet or causes Angel to start flirting with them instead of Husker, I think this pairing is sailing quickly and unopposed toward the canon zone.

I hope I’ve provided sufficient proof to back up my wild accusations, but I sincerely believe all of the building blocks have already been assembled to create a compelling romance between these characters. The flaws they need to overcome interlock with each other perfectly, their designs draw connections between them, and their Instagram accounts weave together a narrative for a soft Episode 1.5. I believe all of this together points that these two are meant to become a romantic couple, and if they aren’t, then maybe the showrunners should consider it.

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop #angelhusk #huskerdust #angel dust #husker #husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel #hazbin hotel angel dust #angie fluffy bootz #bar cat 75 #babyfeathrdustr #angiefluffybootz #barcat75 #shipping #mlm #gay ship

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statiicstag · 1 month

Text

x @top-shelf-tender

Somehow Alastor's grin stretches even wider, far past what would be considered normal and into uncanny valley territory. Still yet, his voice is bright and pleasant, a complete juxtaposition to the sarcasm Husk greeted him with.

❝ Ah, I know! My compassion truly knows no constraints! ❞ Both arms come around and in his hands is a box topped with a silken red bow, which he holds out to him for the taking.

❝ You are going to open it, aren't you? ❞ He's not above batting his eyelashes, which he does now, if only for the sake of being obnoxious. They're both well aware Husk doesn't have much of a choice except to take the gift, whether he'd like to or not.

Given he chooses to take it and open it, inside the box is...a rather silly looking top hat.

#【 ☓ 】 ❙ STAY TUNED. ❙《 in character. 》࿏#【 ☓ 】 ❙ BITTER BARTENDER. ❙《 husk. 》࿏#【 ☓ 】 ❙ RISKY BUSINESS. ❙《 radiohusk. 》࿏#top-shelf-tender #[i saw art abt al forcing him to wear the stupid hat and i thought it was hilarious]

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hazbin-bar-cat · 2 years

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@arachn0philia

Continued from this fucking knife in my soul--

Husk noticed.

He always did, whether he acknowledged it or not. Wasn’t that the hallmark of a good bartender? Don’t ask questions, don’t pry, let them come to you, soothe their worries or take their secrets as currency. Just another type of gamble, really.

This time, though...

Nah. Never mind. He tried a different approach.

He stretched, up to the top shelf, and collected a swirled glass bottle with a simple label. Clear gin splashed into a wide-rimmed glass, then a few drops from a smaller bottle. And without thinking much about it, Husk tasted it, then added a drop or two more.

In went the ice, in a single large block. Barely an half-ounce of tonic. Husk barely looked up from what he was doing as he rimmed the glass with grapefruit, leaving the slice dangling from the edge when he served it.

“It’s the good shit. All th’way from Scotland. Found some the other day, don’t ask how I got ahold of it.”

He slid the glass of hopefully refreshing clarity framed in bitterness closer to Angel’s hand.

#arachn0philia #(don't mind me)#(just honking my lil clown nose)

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thespian-wallflower · 4 years

Text

Just One Drink (Hazbin Hotel Fanfic)

(Hi! It’s been literally forever since I’ve posted a fic to my Tumblr account, but I wrote this one just for fun about a week ago. Yay, distancing.

Angel Dust x Husk, one-shot, takes place the same night as the pilot. Angel and Husk share some bonding time at the bar, and they talk about serious subjects. Alastor makes an appearance. Abuse mention. Rated M mostly for language and sexual references, normal for Hazbin. Threw a couple of personal headcanons in here, but I tried my best to be accurate to the characters. Enjoy!)

“Oh, bartender!” a familiar voice sang in a thick New York accent. Don’t look at him.

“Huskie?” No acknowledgement, and he’ll go away. “HUSK!” Silence.

“Ay, I’m talkin’ to you, pussycat!” Husk whirled around, slamming his paws on the bar counter and baring his teeth aggressively at the spider demon who taunted him. “What?? What the fuck do you want?” Angel Dust blinked in surprise at the cat demon’s outburst, but his shocked expression was quickly replaced by a coy smile. “Um, a drink, obviously. This is a bar, remember.” It wasn’t a question. He hoisted himself up on the counter, sprawling out into a relaxed position before speaking up again. “You’re gonna need a test subject for your first drink, right?” Husk rolled his eyes. “Look, I just got here. And I’m really not in the mood for your shit. Now get your ass off the counter.” Angel shrugged, ignoring the request. “It’s been a few hours. You had dinner with us and everything. Can’t you settle in, for me?” Angel batted his eyelashes in a flirtatious manner, which made Husk snort in disgust. “Why should I? I’m already being forced to work here against my fuckin’ will.” He glared across the room at Alastor, who was wandering around, sizing the place up. The Radio Demon caught Husk’s eye and grinned wider before wiggling his fingers in a condescending wave. Husk replied by flipping the bird.

Angel sighed. “Look, let me finish one drink, and I’m outta your hair for the night. Demon’s honor.” He raised two sets of right hands. With a bitter laugh, Husk stated plainly, “Demons have no honor.” “Hey, I’m tryin’ to reform here. Give a guy the benefit of the doubt, babe.”

Husk glared at Angel Dust for a moment, arms folded, then asked, “What’ll it be?”

“Sex on the Beach, thank ya much. I’m feelin’ something fruity tonight.”

Husk gathered the ingredients and started to make the drink. “Yeah, well, that’s fitting, because you look fruity, too.”

Angel chuckled lightly. “Clever. But if that was meant to insult me, you’re gonna have to try harder. I’ve heard ‘em all, doll.” He folded his arms and smirked at the bartender. Nodding in acknowledgement, Husk replied, “Yeah, I know. You’re a sex worker. Biggest porn star in all of hell.”

Angel pushed up his chest fluff and grinned, his gold fang gleaming in the bar’s lighting. “Ah, a man of taste. Familiar with my work?”

“No comment.” Husk poured the drink into a glass, and garnished it with a maraschino cherry. “Order up.” He held the drink out to Angel, and grabbed a bottle of cheap booze for himself.

“Thanks!” Angel swung his legs around to Husk’s side of the counter and took the drink from his paw. “Hey, you can be honest with me. I don’t judge. I mean, my early work was a little rough, but if that’s how you li-”

“Enough sex jokes!” Husk snarled. “I made your drink! Now fuck off!”

Angel blew air out of the side of his mouth and rolled his eyes, not intimidated in the slightest. “Ya can’t get rid of me that easily. I said I’d leave after I finished my drink, remember? A deal’s a deal.” He took a sip and winked at Husk over the rim of the glass. Husk just shook his head in defeat. “I’m not in the mood to argue with you, so stay if you want to. I don’t really give two shits anymore.” He sighed and sipped more of his booze. “Why do you wanna talk to me, anyway?” “Aside from the fact that you’re hot as fuck, you fascinate me, Huskie.” Angel paused to sip his cocktail, then threw Husk a curveball. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

Husk hopped up on the counter beside Angel, keeping a safe distance away. “Today? Yeah, I’ll say. I love being fucked with by that antlered asshole.”

“Nah, not with Alastor. I mean, like, entirely. When you get around like I do, ya get pretty good at reading other demons. You’re a drinker. And when you’re a drinker, there’s usually a reason behind it.”

Husk didn’t reply.

“Listen, I didn’t have the best life, and my afterlife ain’t so hot, either. I mean, look at me. I came from an abusive family, died, and I’m still gettin’ abused.” He paused again to take a sip of his drink. “It gets exhausting, never being good enough. Y’know?” Angel inched just the tiniest bit closer to Husk, who couldn’t tell whether or not it was intentional.

“Sure.” Husk scooted away and took another swig of his drink. God, when is this asshole going to leave me alone for the night?

Angel smoothed back his fluffy white hair. “Anyway, that’s partly why I’m here. I’ve been through a lotta shit, like you, and I feel like helpin’ Charlie is a step in the right direction. Just cuz my afterlife sucks doesn’t mean hers should, too. Guess I’m a people-pleaser.”

“With a job like yours, you have to be.”

“No shit.” He plucked a cherry from his glass and started munching on it. “I’m doing a crappy job of it, though. Got into a huge turf war today with my best friend. It was a blast. Literally! I blasted so many of those little egg fuckers!” He chuckled, then popped the cherry stem into his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue.

“Yeah, I saw it on the news. That whole thing was a fiasco. At least Pentious got fucked sideways today, thanks to Alastor.” He cringed as soon as the words came out of his mouth. “Never thought I’d thank him for anything.”

Angel halted his stem-tying to state loudly, “I wanna thank him for being a sexy motherfucker!” He raised his glass in a make-believe toast to the Radio Demon, who was currently nowhere to be found.

“Speak for yourself!”

“Mmmmhm!” Angel hummed in agreement, then stuck his tongue out, the expertly-tied cherry stem resting near the tip. “Ta-Da! A perfectly tied thhhtem! Imprethhhhed yet, Huthhhhker?” Spit flew with every “S” he attempted to enunciate. Husk wiped the spit from his face and growled at the spider demon. “I’ll be more impressed if you stop spitting all over me, slut!”

“Okay, buthhhhkill.” Angel carefully removed the stem from his tongue, chuckling at the fact that he’d gotten one final word in. “Just think! With a tongue like this, imagine what I can do to your dick, old timer!” He held the stem out to Husk, as if presenting a valuable gift. “For you!”

Husk smacked it out of his hands. “Get that shit away from me! And wipe your mouth, you’ve got drool all over your lips.”

“You’re zero fun!” Angel grabbed a cocktail napkin and wiped his mouth, then took another sip of his drink.

The pair shared another silent moment before Angel asked, “So what do you think of this place? And rehabilitation and all?”

Husk shrugged. “Too early to say.”

“Eh, fair enough. Who knows, though? This hotel just may be our ticket outta this shithole!” Angel flopped on his back and tipped his head backwards over the side of the counter, giving him an upside-down view of the lobby. He was closer to Husk than ever, but the cat demon didn’t bother to scoot away from him this time. “And wouldn’t that be somethin’?”

“Don’t push your luck.” Husk placed his empty bottle on the counter.

“Hey, you’re a gamblin’ man! You know all about luck-pushing!” Angel looked up at him and smiled. “Don’t ya?”

“I have my moments.” The hint of tenderness between the two demons came to an abrupt end when Husk snapped, “Finish your fucking drink so I can close this place up.”

“With pleasure!” Angel responded, sitting in an upright position, picking up his glass, and downing the rest of the cocktail in one swift gulp. “Ahhh. Not bad. Ever bartend before?”

“None of your concern!”

“Yeesh, so aggressive. And mysterious. Sexy, if you ask me,” Angel purred seductively, walking two fingers toward the cat demon’s crotch. Without a moment’s hesitation, Husk grabbed Angel’s hand and twisted his arm around, causing him to nearly fall off the counter.

“OW! OW! OW! Alright, alright!” Husk let go, and Angel’s arm throbbed painfully. “Damn, who pissed in your cereal?” he asked with a smirk. Aggressive or not, he was still intrigued by the new bartender.

“You, currently. Now get lost, will ya?”

“Fine!” Angel pouted for a moment, then hopped off the counter and glanced over his shoulder cheekily. “So, same time tomorrow?” He blew Husk a kiss, reminiscent of the one he had blown him earlier after Pentious’s defeat.

Husk growled playfully, hopped off the counter, grabbed his empty bottle, and chased after Angel with his arm raised, threatening to throw it at him.

Angel yelped and ran back to his room, laughing. “G’night, hot stuff!”

“Yeah, get fucked!” Husk yelled after him, then chuckled lightly to himself. He had to admit, if Angel hadn’t stopped by for a drink, the night wouldn’t have been nearly as interesting. He turned to walk back to the bar, only to see Alastor standing there, grinning at him. Husk’s faint smile quickly turned into a scowl. “And what the hell do you want?”

Alastor’s voice crackled to life in its usual static, showy and flamboyant. “My little Husker is already making friends, on his first evening on the job!” Al mocked, faux tears pooling in his eyes, his trademark smile staying put. “Ohh, they grow up so fast!” He whipped out a red pinstriped handkerchief and blew his nose with a trumpet-esque blare.

Husk wrinkled his nose in disgust. “For your information, I’m not making friends. And even if I were, why the fuck do you care?” “Forgive me for expressing interest in the well-being of one of my favorite demons in this godforsaken cesspool,” Alastor replied snarkily, tucking away the handkerchief and wrapping up the act.

Husk scoffed, not buying it in the slightest, and went back behind the bar to work. He bent to pick up Angel’s abandoned cherry stem, staring at it for a moment before making the decision to throw it in the trash.

The Radio Demon manifested his cane and casually leaned against it for support, looking Husk up and down as the cat demon made the bar area look more presentable. “So, my friend, you seem to be adjusting well, despite your initial refusal to help.” Husk mopped the counter off with a rag, not making eye contact. “Not that it’s your business.” Alastor’s ever-present smile widened and he replied with, “I suppose not. But as an official employee, your business is now the business of the business! Ahahaha!”

“Ah, shove it up your ass.”

Al chuckled, unfazed. “I’d rather not! Ah, I missed that charming, friendly voice. It’s wonderful that you decided to join the Princess’s little passion project. The more the merrier, I always say.” He reached a hand over the counter and teasingly pinched one of Husk’s fuzzy, white cheeks. Husk swatted Al’s hand away and raised one of his long eyebrows. “That reminds me… why the hell are YOU here? You never-”

A long finger was delicately placed against the cat’s lips, interrupting him mid-sentence. “Ah-ah-ah, Husker,” Al replied, his voice dropping to a charming-yet-threatening lower pitch. “You know better than to question my motives.” He turned to walk away, hands behind his back, his cheerful tone returning. “Besides, you know that I would never turn down an opportunity to be entertained.” Husk flicked his tail in annoyance. “I have better things to do than run a bar for a bunch of namby-pamby demons who would rather be up in heaven, sucking up.” Alastor was silent for a moment, then he glanced over his shoulder and asked in an eerie voice, “Do you, though?”

Husk found himself pondering this unexpected question as Alastor said brightly, “Well, sleep well, treasured bartender!” and snapped himself away for the night.

Suddenly finding himself alone at the hotel bar, Husk decided it was bedtime for him, too. Working at the Happy Hotel would be a change, for better or worse. And one thing was certain: Angel Dust was here to stay. (Thanks for reading! ^_^ Okay to reblog or comment)

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #husk #alastor #huskerdust #drunk dust #angel x husk #fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic

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hippiehusk · 4 years

Text

I can't stop thinking about the concept of Angel and Husk switching roles....Husk would be a seasoned old bisexual Daddy porn star who makes tons of money bc vocal tops are hard to find...Angel is a pro bartender who Alastor saved from Val's clutches years back (which is why he bartends at the Happy Hotel, he owes him the favor)...Angel is more bitter and crotchety because since he's not famous he's just your average joe junkie, whereas Husk is a bit cocky and uses all his income for gambling and alcohol...Angel would dominate in bed but Husk would top.......oh yeah

#huskerdust #angelhusk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #thats the stuff baby....

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syntaxeme · 4 years

Text

Giardino Segreto ch. 1

[Read on AO3] | [Next Chapter] [Support me on Ko-fi] Rating: T Summary: Alastor finds himself in a bit of a pickle. He’s fallen in love with a human--a frustrated young man named Angel--and now needs to win his love in return before he chokes on pent-up affection (Hanahaki Disease). What’s a demon to do?

— — –

Another night in New York City, and Alastor sat cross-legged on one of the Dellarosa home’s many balconies, observing, listening. The room he was peering into was on the third floor, one of few still lit so late at night. Inside, two very similar young people—easily recognizable as twins—sat on the edge of a nicely-made bed. Both had bleach-blond hair with dark roots starting to show, both were a little thin in some place, a little curvy in others. The young woman was tending to a cut on her brother’s cheek, dabbing an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against the gash.

“Ow,” he said softly.

“Sorry.” She quickly drew away, biting her lip, visibly agonized over his pain.

“It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.” Alastor could’ve recognized that voice even without seeing its source, that soft tenor currently tinged with bitterness. Angel. His heart quickened slightly at the sound. “His fault, not yours.”

“I don’t know why he gets so steamed about it. Even if you two can’t agree—”

“Agree? It’s my fuckin’ life; he shouldn’t get a say!” Angel growled. His sister (Molly, if Alastor recalled correctly) cowered slightly, and he sighed. “Sorry. You know it’s not you I’m pissed at.”

“I know.”

“And Criss ain’t helpin’! He acts like he gives a shit when it’s just us, then when Dad’s around, it’s ‘Antonia’ this and ‘sorellina’ that.” The anger in Angel’s voice was drawn down with pain, and he gripped tightly at the covers beneath him. Molly wiped blood away from the cut on his forehead, and he winced slightly. There was nothing she could do for the bruise under his left eye. “Thanks. Sorry I keep buggin’ you with this shit.”

“He’ll come around eventually, Angelino.” She leaned in and planted a kiss on his forehead, then left for her own room. Angel sat very sit for a few seconds, dark eyes staring at the floor with a kind of helpless fury and sorrow that Alastor couldn’t help but find fascinating. He glanced toward the window, and the demon froze. But of course, Angel couldn’t see him. The boy—a young man, really, somewhere around the age of 25—let out a sigh and turned out the lights, then crawled into bed and buried himself under the covers. It wasn’t until Alastor heard his breathing turn slow and deep that he finally left, strolling away from the house and twirling his staff idly through his fingers.

Was there something a bit voyeuristic, a bit ‘creepy’ about this? Certainly. But could he help himself? Absolutely not. This wasn’t the first time he’d observed Angel Dellarosa and been utterly captivated by every word from his mouth, every toss of his hair. Angel, who had been given a different name at birth but had since chosen a new one for himself. Angel, whose family—excluding his sister—refused to acknowledge who he was and how he felt. Stubborn, passionate, beautiful Angel, who had caught Alastor’s attention on his first night in the Big Apple and held it firmly ever since.

It was odd. He didn’t typically take such a fixed interest in any particular human. Most of them, he would’ve said, were more or less interchangeable. Predictable. Boring. But Angel had surprised him and continued to do so. If only there were something he could do to make the boy’s life easier, he would, without a moment’s hesitation. To see him comfortable, to see him at ease, to see him fulfilled and smiling…

When Alastor’s chest inexplicably tightened, his stride faltered. Further tightness, an itch in his throat, and he coughed. Instead of fading, the sensation of his chest constricting got worse, forcing him to cough harder and cover his mouth by reflex. He was familiar enough with the idea of consumption that he expected to see blood when he pulled his hand back.

The flower petals, however, came as a surprise.

Rose petals, to be specific. Powder pink roses, pink like Angel’s lips when he smiled, like his fingertips when they ran through his hair. Funny. Knowing himself, Alastor would’ve expected red, but although they were stained with the same blood still marking his lips, there was no denying the petals were soft and pale. Another unexpected turn, and once again, it was Angel’s doing.

The concept wasn’t entirely foreign, though he never would’ve expected it to apply to him of all people. He’d always thought of this as more of a Heavenly affliction. Was it a Biblical story? He couldn’t recall.

The tale went that love was a gift, a thing of beauty, and one should never keep such a gift hidden. If kept trapped inside and unshared, the blossoming emotions would fill the space they were given: the space in one’s chest, one’s heart, one’s lungs. The only cure was to confess and to have the feelings reciprocated. Otherwise, the ‘beautiful’ sickness that was love would consume the victim from the inside out. Oh, it was all very symbolic. Very artful. Very poetic.

It made Alastor want to vomit. More petals. Ugh. And the implications! Love. For crying out loud. He’d never felt any such thing in his life. Never mind that he’d gotten a little sidetracked on his recent visit to New York City and stayed a few days…weeks…all right, months longer than intended without forming a single contract. He had been berating himself for it every day. Yet there he stayed. Idiot. And now he was ‘lovesick’ in every possible sense of the word. Fool!

There weren’t many he could rightfully call friends, but there were some who tolerated his presence more than others. One such beast was a fellow demon named Husk, one who also spent much of his time lingering on Earth and enjoying the darker sides of human society. Unsure of what to do or how to approach this issue, Alastor sought him out in one of the seedy speakeasies he was known to frequent.

Husk was the sort of demon who adopted an entirely human appearance when mingling with humans so as to not give away his nature, but he was still easy enough to pick out of a crowd. After all, he was the only one who could see Alastor even while his magic was concealing him from mortal eyes.

“Bullshit! No way is that the hand you got dealt,” Alastor heard as he entered the darkened, smoke-hazed room and headed for the poker tables, where he knew he was likely to find his ‘friend.’

“You callin’ me a liar?” That was Husker’s voice, easily recognizable by its rough and perpetually-irritated tone. When Alastor reached the tables, he found Husk on his feet, in a shouting match with another patron over their game.

“Making friends as always, I see,” he remarked mildly, and Husk glanced briefly in his direction without answering.

“You know what? Fuck it. This bet ain’t even worth arguing about.” Throwing his cards down on the table, he turned to walk away, giving Alastor a subtle nod that said he should follow. So he did, wandering over to the bar, where Husk ordered a rye whiskey.

“You could have finished your game,” Alastor said, leaning against the bar and scanning the room for anything of interest. Not likely, since he knew what to expect here. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Doesn’t matter. I was cheating anyway,” Husk said flatly. “What’re you doing here? Lookin’ for some poor sap to dupe into a deal?”

“As phonetically pleasing as that is, no. I was hoping to catch you for a chat, actually. I, er, have a problem I’m not quite sure how to solve.”

“What, you’re lookin’ for advice? From me?” After receiving his drink, he gave the bartender a nod and led the way to a table in one quiet corner of the room. “I ain’t promising I’m gonna be helpful, but go ahead and lay it on me.”

Sitting very still and very straight in his chair, hands folded on the table, Alastor explained his situation as dispassionately as possible while Husk sipped his liquor. The more he talked, the more he was forced to realize exactly how complex a position he was in and how few options he had left himself. Predictably, when he got to the part about the rose petals, Husk laughed at him.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You got the fairy tale flower-puke disease?” he choked out, and Alastor remained silent, placid, ignoring his irritation. Yes, yes, it was all very funny until one was forced to deal with it personally. With no choice in the matter and no easy way out, it became significantly less amusing.

“I didn’t ask for it, mind you. None of this has been planned by any means.”

“But you let it happen.” Husk’s tone made it clear how strongly he disapproved, that he saw the predicament as Alastor’s own fault. And Alastor was forced to agree, to a point. “You’ve never even talked to the kid and you got it this bad? I woulda figured that wasn’t possible.”

Before I saw him, I would have too. Of course, he didn’t dare say that out loud for fear of his friend ruthlessly criticizing his—very uncharacteristic—romanticism. “However it happened,” he said instead, “I don’t have much choice but to address it at this point. The question is how to go about doing that.”

“What question? You got two options, right? Either you win him over or you eventually choke to death on your fucking feelings. Unless you just wanna give up and die—”

“You know, my friend, you have been every bit as helpful as I expected when I came here,” Alastor said pleasantly. “I truly appreciate your tact and understanding on this sensitive subject.”

Husk rolled his eyes and drained the last of his whiskey. “Look, if you wanted ‘tact and understanding,’ you came to the wrong guy. But I don’t think that is what you wanted. I think you wanted to be told exactly what you have to do, so you couldn’t keep beatin’ around the bush about it. Am I right?”

Unfortunately. The Radio Demon—funny to think how utterly inapplicable his power and reputation in Hell were to this situation—let out a defeated sigh and turned his eyes down toward the tabletop. Stained. Messy. Not his cup of tea. But his friend was right, and he’d gotten what he had come for: confirmation that there was only one thing he could do now.

He had no idea how to go about wooing anyone; he’d never had any need to in the past. How he might persuade Angel to love him and to admit it…he couldn’t begin to imagine. But at the thought of succeeding, of coming to occupy the most important and valued position in the boy’s life, his chest tightened again with desperate longing, and he quickly covered his mouth, trying to keep his cough as silent and subtle at possible. Since the first time, there had been an almost constant tension vaguely lingering around his respiratory system, but it only became unignorable at moments like this.

“Huh. Y’know, I almost figured you were bullshittin’ me,” Husk observed with vague interest as petals collected in Alastor’s palm. “Guess it’s for real. Good luck with that.”

Alastor’s fist clenched, delicate petals crushed, blood dripping down his wrist. Luck was the very least he needed.

#RadioDust #Giardino Segreto #damn I like that last paragraph #Hazbin Angel Dust #Hazbin Alastor #Angel Dust x Alastor #human!Angel Dust #trans man Angel Dust #I have Some Plans for this one kids........#stay tuned #Hanahaki Disease #mutual pining #mob boss Angel Dust #mafia AU #human AU

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faemytho · 4 years

Note

I know you just did one of these recently but I am so gay for this ship so don’t mind me- Alastor x Angel Dust ; “Maybe hell isn't so bad“ (I’m not entirely familiar with their personalities yet so sorry if it’s a bad prompt thing)

im cackling i got three radiodust requests from when i asked for requests the other day

the most requested ship i got out of all of them, i love yall

figured i better get them all in one

triple whammy it

dont drink, kids

"Maybe hell ain't so bad, y'know what I'm sayin' Al?" Angel slurred, draped across the bar. Husk stood behind it, swaying on his feet and looking positively miserable. Alastor sat stiff and rimrod straight in his seat beside Angel, and yet, his eyes were lidded and downcast over his ever present smile.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite sure what you mean," Alastor spoke, the radio tin to his voice thicker and full of static. Husk groaned and slid down to the floor, while Angel lifted his head, squinting at the other demon. It was harder to understand Alastor than usual, considering their inebriation.

"Y'know, being here," Angel murmured, the words sliding into each other as his mouth struggled to form the correct sounds. His lower set of arms banged up against the underside of the counter, and he winced, letting them rest across his lap. Definitely going to feel that later. "We got whiskey, you got gin, I got fucks and... whatever else the fuck I got, life's good."

"But, but Angel," Alastor mumbled, his head nodding forwards. Angel scooted his stool closer to the other, and Alastor didn't seem to notice. "Angel, we don't... life. We don't have it."

Angel nodded along, his thoughts hazy and unformed. He blinked slowly, trying to make sense of the overlord's words. "Fuck, you're right, Al. Absolutely. We ain't livin', we're... afterlivin'."

Alastor seemed satisfied with that, the edges of his permasmile ever sharp even as he let his eyes drift closed for a moment. "Husk?" He asked, his eyes opening a crack. The bartender gave a discontented snort, and there was a thump behind the bar.

"Bastard's out of it," Angel giggled dumbly, letting his head fall against the bar. He closed his eyes for a moment, smacking his lips against the bitter, almost putrid, burning taste in his mouth. "Y'know, I don't think I ever seen you drinking before."

"I don't... make it a habit," Alastor murmured, his mouth closing over his sharp yellow teeth as he hummed an unfamiliar tune. "I don't habit... drinking. With people. Usually."

"Yeah I can tell. You ain't even putting words together right," Angel scoffed, lifting his head up to stare at Alastor. He folded his upper set of arms on the bar and leaned on them, forcing Alastor to look down at him on the bar.

The radio demon shook his head, deer ear tufts swaying with the movement. "Dear, if I wanted to speak eloquently, I could. It just requires thinking. Too many of it."

Angel snorted, inhaling spittle up his nose and coughing out his laughter. "Yeah, a couple'a glasses a' that shit's hard ta think with, ain't it?" He managed to say, lifting a pink gloved hand to cough into it. He pretended not to notice Alastor's lazy stare.

"Indeed," Alastor agreed, but he sounded vague and uncertain of something. Angel rested his head back on his arms and raised a brow, waiting for Alastor to speak again. "... I must admit, you are quite nice company when you are not making... perverse jokes. Moreso than I expected."

Angel stared, a stupid grin breaking itself across his face. "Aw Ally, are you complimentin' me?"

"My name is Alastor," the demon corrected automatically, though he did not elaborate further on his previous words. Angel took the opportunity to slide closer.

"Ya like me, ya know it," he purred mischievously, and Alastor's lip upper peeled back to bare his dangerous smile.

"I said no such thing," Alastor sniffed, turning his face away from the other drunk demon. As though he'd suddenly remembered it was there, he lifted the small glass he held in his clawed fingers and tipped back every last drop. "Nor will I ever say any such thing."

Angel scoffed, his head whirling. He wasn't going to remember it when they woke up sober, because he could hardly remember his own name at the moment right then. But he still had enough sense to not touch the radio demon, moving back in his own personal space.

"Here's to you never saying any such thing," he exclaimed, raising the unfinished shot glass in front of him. With a flourish, he downed the glass, slammed it down on the counter, and promptly passed out.

Alastor sat alone with his thoughts, fingers splayed on the wood of the countertop and the empty glasses in front of him clouding his mind. With nobody around who was conscious to hear him, he muttered, letting his eyes fall shut once more.

"What a stupid thing to toast to."

#radiodust #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #my writing #drabbles #mae writes hazbin

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