VIOLENT PORNOGRAPHY!

uh..... hi. long time no seeing..........

to absolutely no one’s surprise (if you’ve read some of my last posts on this blog) my focus has been somewhere else on another muse in a different fandom. i still love valentino very much and i do plan to come back here at some point, maybe when there’s more news about hazbin and such, but at the moment this blog ended up stressing me out a bit too much (it’s no one’s fauly but mine, don’t worry). and as much as i tried to give a horror twist on this blog, now that i’m currently writing a real canon horror muse my creativity is back at flowing much better

     Hᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀs the threat for what it is, but he’s not worried. Of course not. If he miscalculated anything in his rites, he would have known by now; if nothing before had been enough to tip the demon over, this now sure would have been. It shows in the subtle change on expression, on the wings unfolding (make yourself even bigger to intimidate any predator, hu?) and if he had done something wrong, then he’d likely bleed out on the floor already, not for the first time. Certainly slower than the last round, though. Or maybe not. He doesn’t know enough about the swarm to know if They would stand any chance against a proper demon, doesn’t know the full extend of his own powers now, and he’s certainly not too keen on a practical test of that.

     They certainly don’t share his confidence in nothing going wrong, though. Clearly They don’t like this situation (although he doubts it’s him seeking to know more about Them; hunting for knowledge had always been the defining trait of his character and if it bothered Them enough, then he is sure that he wouldn’t have sustained as a host for as long as he does, would have been of a more temporary solution), but he can feel parts of Them settling on his skin. Not like insects crawling over one, making Their way out of the wounds and setting like a heavy, buzzing and moving scarf around his neck (a scarf, or a noose?), but it’s the closest thing a human mind might be able to compare it to. Something he hadn’t thought about before, and to be frank, he’d rather They wouldn’t; showing like this might be opening up his cards too much. It’s not like he can tell Them to stop, though.

     Oh, well, he might as well pretend like it’s been the original plan all along then.

     "Guess you can guess why I’ve got an interest in talkin’ t’ you, specifically.“ He raises one hand, places it near his own shoulder, and almost as if They actually listened to some command, a part of the swarm readily curls around it, covering it in a cloud of black moving parts when he moves it back away. "It’s not like there’s a lot o’ experts up here, after all. Or well, th’ few self-proclaimed ones I met always got so scared when meetin’ th’ subjects o’ their studies, an’ as fun as it’s t’ have ‘em crawl down their lungs so they can’t scream, it doesn’t exactly tell me much.”

     TO BE honest, he was expecting to be asked a different sort of question. There’s two kinds of people that usually summon him up here for the most part: the hopeless in search of a cure for their aching desire, whatever it might be - whatever wound it might have left on their soul - and the hungry for any bit of knowledge they can sink their teeth into. The desperate and the greedy. The latter especially always have so many expectations when they finally see him standing before them, and can barely wait for him to be properly present before throwing all and every question at him, demanding for an immediate explanation. It doesn’t work like this. He knows more, much more about the Great After than they ever will, but just as much is obscure to him. They don’t have to know, though. He likes fucking around with them, either being cryptic or spitting out bullshit and seeing how it plays out. 

     This, though. This does awaken his curiosity and has him try a little harder to remember if he’s ever seen anything like that in the Pentagram. Insect or even swarm demons were barely anything new, but this was unlike anyone he’d ever met before. Possession is out of question for his kind, that much he’s aware of. Then - he wonders as he squints just a bit, just enough to see the dark bug-like creatures crawling about the man’s hand like bees on a honey vase - what the fuck is this he’s looking at?

Of course Angel had seen it coming, that sudden tight grip on his wrist, but it still sent a high powered jolt through his entire being– enough to damn near cause the small plastic bag to slip out from his fingertips, but not quite.  A short and sharp inhale came along with it– his lungs among the victims of the jolt that might as well have been caused by a taser.  

Angel’s eyes followed Valentino as the Overlord’s heels clicked around him– his wrist going from tense, to limp in his boss’s grip.  Valentino loomed over him, making the spider demon feel just that much smaller– and the sudden hand to his cheek only increased the sensation.  It was icy– sharp and uncomfortable, enough to send chills down Angel’s spine, though he did his best to hide his outward discomfort, picking and choosing his reactions– only showing the fear, the submissiveness.  What he knew Valentino wanted.

A swallow and a nod, as much as he could move his head against Valentino’s hand, at least.  “I– yeah.”  He responded quietly, with a purse of his lips.  “It wasn’t like I eva’ believed in that redemption bullshit anyway.  Dunno what I was doin’ there in tha’ first place…”  It was mostly true– a large part of him was incredibly dismissive of the Princess’s ideas and ideals.  But, there was a part of him– a small part, but still a part, that was somewhat curious, hopeful even.  Of what exactly?  He really didn’t know.  Maybe of just, something better than this.

Of course, that spark of hope was shattered now– it had crumbled the moment he’d dialed Valentino’s number.

     HE WASN’T angry - not really. He had been until Angel had been pushed back into his maws (by the same people that had claimed to help him, even), and seeing him this compliant had somewhat calmed him. Credit where it’s due and all of that. Always better to reward sheep that scurried back to him, whether pulled back in by fear or genuine contrition. He was capable of forgiveness, after all. The hand that fed and hit knew when to dispense praise and comfort as well, even if only when it was to in his own advantage. And Angel had done well at coming back to him. No need to lash out when he had already learned the lesson on his own.

     And yet, the mention of the hotel made a bubble of rage resurface inside him. The spider’s muttered explanation did little to burst it, and Val’s grip on his cheek didn’t slacken a single inch. “You don’t say, darlin’.” So friendly and icy. Like frozen honey dripping down Angel’s spine. “’cause that’s what I’ve been askin’ myself since your appearance on the princess’ shitshow, y’know? Made me wonder what’s my star doin’ involved in this whole thing?” So Angel didn’t know why he had agreed to this so-called project. As if Valentino would go and believe him this easily.

     “DO YOU now?” It’s not a threat. It doesn’t sound like one, it doesn’t look like one on a smiling face such as his, mouth open to reveal pristine shiny teeth in the friendliest of manners. And yet, his voice buzzes. Nothing new, it always does - but one couldn’t shake off the awful feeling that it is different, although in teeny tiny details. As if the insects making that low, almost comforting humming had slightly increased in number, wings flapping at all speed, multifaceted eyes all open to stare and control. Andrea has never seen what Val really looks like, only an inch of how horrific he can truly be: and perhaps it’s a good thing - perhaps human hearts aren’t made to see much of this monstrosity and keep beating - and what he’s being shown right now should be enough, like pulling up a curtain only enough to peek at the show going on behind it. A glimpse of true horror and moths scurrying all over a corpse. Claws drilling holes, red light coating every surface like blood.