[for @poisonedspider, Continued From Here]

[for @poisonedspider, continued from here]

Vox smiled when Angel actually accepted the drink, then even more when he spoke to him. Despite them having lived together for so long, he and Angel had had very few one-on-one conversations. When they did, they were usually something short and to the point, like Vox asking what kind of pizza Angel wanted, or the civil exchange of greetings. The two of them didn't interact all that often, certainly not directly. All this time, that had been by design--his design, not Angel's. Vox didn't want the interaction or the intimacy. He didn't want the risk. Too much time with Angel might upset Valentino--or Angel, for that matter--and there was always too much work to do to risk adding more to it. Vox had so many projects happening at any given time, his attention was being pulled in so many directions, that he didn't enjoy having to deal with emotional...

Issues.

But lately, he'd begun realizing that was a mistake--especially when it came to Angel Dust.

The Tower was a little too quiet without Angel around. Something unexpected was missing when he wasn't there, something Vox couldn't name or fully understand; whatever it was, it left an ache behind, left the world too quiet. So this? Having an uncomplicated moment together? It felt nice. Overdue. Stupid, maybe, for so many reasons, but still. Nice.

Vox walked alongside him, smiling--the smile half for Angel and half for the sharks they were going to see.

When one of Angel's arms brushed his shoulder, Vox shivered. He buttoned his shirt up, realizing that maybe he wasn't comfortable showing quite so much of his pale blue skin right now, and hoped Angel hadn't noticed. It wasn't that he didn't trust Angel, it was--something else. Something about Angel, something Vox knew better than to think about. Something dangerous.

Something tempting.

"There's a difference between not being busy," he pointed out, twitching an eyebrow, "and being interested in doing something. Allegedly," playfulness making his eyes seem to sparkle, "it's good for people to just have some downtime. To do nothing." Not that Vox bothered with that often.. or at all. Relaxation was for people who didn't have their own business empires to run; even here, even now, he was constantly processing data and monitoring the projects that needed it most.

Angel probably knew him well enough to know that, and might well make fun of him for it, which Vox wouldn't even be able to say was wrong of him. There were things Angel and Valentino both seemed to understand about being a person that Vox just... didn't. But that was fine. It took all sorts, right? Either way, Vox was happy. There was some pep in his step as the two of them walked along to the lagoon, although for once, Vox didn't seem to be in a hurry. He wasn't rushing--walking next to Angel Dust wasn't something that should be rushed.

"So, do you... have any plans for this week? Other than look incredible, of course."

for @collectionoflostsouls, continued from here wow hi nice to meet you person i have totally never written with before and whom i don't completely adore, hiii!

-

"I had a bad dream about you," Blitz admitted, rolling over on the couch so he could hold the phone a little more comfortably. He might not be completely awake, but he was smiling, happy; hearing Stolas's voice right now was even better than texting with him. Blitz stretched, letting out a contented little sigh, and rubbed his face on the cushion before going on.

"I mean like, a nightmare, I guess. Not that... you probably never get nightmares, so maybe you don't know what the fuck they are or something, but I... sometimes they just seem so fucking real, you know? And this one did. There was some asshole prince up in the human world who like, you ran into for some reason, and he reached out and touched you and you burst into flame, and I couldn't put the fire out. I kept trying to dump more water on you, then smother it with me jacket, and," Blitz's throat tightened, eyes watering, "I could smell your feathers burning. And you just kept saying it's alright, darling, I'll be alright, darling, because you were trying really fucking hard not to scream and... it just... it fucking... I don't...

"Thank you. For calling. I know it's dumb to get upset about a dream, just... sometimes... fuck, I don't know. How um, how are you?"

I ain't too good at expressing stuff unless it's with my body.

Fuck.

Blitz understood that. He understood that far, far too well. The words hit like blows.

When Angel knelt so as not to loom over him, it had quieted him. He went still, watching him, on the verge of breaking--but only on the verge. Blitz didn't know what it was about this guy that made him so easy to open up to--maybe a sense of shared suffering? That they had enough in common, they could understand? Because Angel sure as fuck seemed to immediately get it, to get everything Blitz said, even the shit he only halfway explained.

The imp stepped in closer, trusting him.

He hated this. Hated crying in front of anyone. As far as imps went, Blitz was peak masculinity and beauty rolled into one; he wasn't the type who was supposed to cry. He shouldn't be broken. He shouldn't be so deeply fucking flawed. But he was, and he hated it, and was ashamed of it, ashamed of so much--

Only, when Angel looked at him like he understood? The shame didn't cut quite as deeply.

"Yeah," Blitz agreed, nodding. He swallowed hard and wiped quickly at his eyes, trying to put on a bright smile. "Yeah, you can fucking kiss me."

It was probably safer for both of them if they communicated through the physical, if they danced around the truth. Because while Angel cared about what happened to him, Blitz didn't. If he died, he died. He'd be away from all of this. He'd be free. He wouldn't be trapped anymore, he wouldn't have to think or feel, he could just be free, and so he was willing, absolutely willing, to risk death if he could help his friend. If Valentino needed an ass-beating, if that would get him to lighten up on Angel? It was worth risking everything for--because really, what was there to lose?

I would risk everything to help you, Blitz thought, golden eyes burning fiercely as he studied this friend he had never expected, never looked for. You're worth it. And if in the end we were both free? Even if that meant I couldn't see you anymore? That would be worth it, too.

Someday, one of them was going to be happy. He clenched his fists, determining that. Someday. And it was going to be Angel. Whatever it took, Blitz was going to find a way to help him.

"Yeah, but the fuckin' difference is yeh' could die, Blitz!" His voice strained, not wanting to interrupt the other, but that was it, wasn't it? If Blitzo were to die, then Angel didn't know what would happen. He didn't know what happened if hellborns, or imps, or goetia, or anyone else that wasn't a sinner were to actively die in Hell. He could double die, sure, and he would cease to exist. Or as far as they knew. But he could be killed, and still regenerate. With few exceptions.

He wanted to go off about this, but he was floored by what the imp was saying to him. He had known a lot about Blitzo since they had first met, but there were still things neither of them had shared with the other. While Angel had yet to explain that Valentino literally beat the ever-loving shit out of him, Blitzo had not mentioned this very important piece of his life. Leaving Angel absolutely stunned, mismatched hues wide.

"Please don't march in and beat the shit out of Val." He mumbled, going down to his knees in front of the other. He knew there was the whole don't talk to short people this way blah blah bullshit, but he wanted to be on Blitz' level for this. He wanted to meet him eye to eye, and tell him he understood. Sitting his butt back on folded legs, he opened his mouth, ready to say that he got it, that he was there for him, that he wasn't going -

"Can ah' kiss yeh'?" Well damn, that....that wasn't in the plan. He hadn't had much of a plan to begin with, but that had blurted out far too easily, blushing slightly and glancing away. "Ah' mean, ah' get if yeh' don't wanna, but all of that....ah' get it. Ah' understand it. Ah' empathize with it. Ah' ain't too good at expressin' stuff unless it's wit' mah' body, but right now ah' just....ah' really wanna just cup yeh' face and kiss yeh'...."

„missed me, pretty bird~?“ 🌕✨

@hellcab posted:

Comfortably numb, Roth’s lazy eyes peered out across the sea. A summer breeze touched his face. Miami Vice in one hand, he wanted for nothing.

This isn’t real.

Faintly, he could hear Hula music coming from the bar. A game of volleyball happened down the beach. Roth sees women walking by his eyes wandered and stared.

This isn’t real.

Sucking on the straw, he downed his third Miami Vice and slouched in his beach chair. His mind wanders and returns to the sea. He stared long and darkly, his mind captivated by the tides. He watched as they broke on the shore.

Someone is out there.

This isn’t real.

He sees people in the tide playing and laughing. They looked free as they danced and splashed about. Then, he sees him. He was rising up, dressed in black head to toe and wearing that god awful mask.

This isn’t real.

He stood there in the water as everyone played about. He just stares. He just stares as he’s dressed in all black. That peacoat was damped and wet, but he just stood there watching Roth.

Roth’s heart was beating faster and faster, ready to pop. His blood rushes as he drops his glass. Chest rising and falling, as The Wire walks out from the surf onto the beach. The Wire reaches into his pocket. He retrieves a switch blade that glints in the summer sun.

Oh God, he’s real!

Roth wakes up screaming his lungs out. Everyone on the beaches stops and hears him screaming. Roth nearly jumps out from the chair as he falls over. His eyes frantic, he looks towards the surf and sees nobody. No man in black.

People are laughing, some are staring.

Roth cannot stand it and gets up to leave for somewhere private.

-

Blitz was passing by when the taxi driver screamed.

He'd gotten to the beach a little late, still not completely convinced that imps were actually wanted at this event, and was still learning his way around, trying to identify and memorize the best routes for escape, the best spots for ambush. More than a little on edge, because hanging out with the hotel crowd apparently might mean hanging out with the hosts of Heaven, Blitz wasn't half as relaxed as he looked.

He glanced over at Roth as he passed him, smiling a little. The driver charged more than fair rates for driving innocent Hell citizens with multiple large pieces of luggage to body dumping remote sites--or so Blitz had heard, of course. He would certainly never need to use such a service himself.

Heaven fucking forbid.

Roth was sleeping though, so Blitz--

Jumped, eyes going huge, when the man screamed.

Blitz landed on his feet, crouching, gun out, looking around for whatever the fuck had scared the guy that fucking badly, but nothing seemed to be around. No real threats. Nothing to be afraid of... They were just being met with blank stares and a few amused titters from other beachgoers.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Blitz growled. He straightened up and looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Roth's retreating form; he looked embarrassed, Blitz thought, or uncomfortable at least. And shit, maybe they weren't exactly friends, but he ran after him all the same--although he didn't come within reach, staying just outside it.

"Hey, man. You good?"