This Will Be Fine?? - Tumblr Posts

for @poisonedspider - continued from here, because we love Angel Dust and cleeaaaarly never want anything bad to happen to him

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"Oh, it's plenty fuckin' sus," Striker agreed, his voice calm and his eyes steady as he studied the spider. "Business like this always is, ain't it? "I hope you'll forgive me for tyin' you up. I plan to keep you that way until you give me some assurance you ain't gonna try to kill me, because I'd hate to have to put you down in a way that sticks. Can't have you respawning and going off to warn your pet Overlord." Although there was some heat to his words, everything about his body language was calm, self-assured. The imp didn't seem worried at all about things going badly, nor did he seem to have any actual animosity towards Angel. If he had to kill the beauty, he would, but it wouldn't be personal.

"I ain't the one that took you down, by the way. Someone else knocked you out, delivered you to me. And now, you're way outside'a your boundaries, kiddo. You get free of me, you'll be loose down in Wrath, and I don't think that'll end well for you." They were in a dingey little motel room, or so it seemed, but there was a distinct lack of noise. Up in Pride, in Pentagram City, there was always noise. Whether it was gunshots, screams, cars backfiring, or hotel residents fighting Heaven, Pentagram City was always bustling. One had to actively seek out silence, find solutions like noise canceling headphones or soundproof privacy booths.

But here?

Outside of these walls?

It sure sounded like there was nothing out there. Not another soul. No roads, no shouting. Nothing. Wind whistled and shushed around the building, and bits of dust filtered in through a small crack in the window, the precursor to a slowly approaching sandstorm.

Now that he'd given the spider at least half an understanding of what was going on, Striker picked up a bottle from where he'd left it on the sink. He unscrewed the top and took a swig to show that it wasn't poisoned, then poured a bit out so Angel could see what it was. Water, sure, maybe boring, but it was good and clean, and didn't smell like sulfur the way damn near all water in Hell did.

"So. What's it gonna be?" He crouched down and offered the bottle, tilting it so Angel could drink if he chose to. "You gonna cooperate with me, behave yourself?" Something in the dryness of his tone, or maybe the way his eyes never so much as strayed down the rest of Angel's body, implied that whatever Striker actually wanted from him, there wasn't going to be any sexual coercion or misconduct here. "Or do I leave you tied up here 'til you ain't useful to me anymore, then give you that long sleep you Sinners got robbed of?"