#angeldcsts

"Awe, baby, it was just a little joke! Come here!" Grabby hands.

"Always with the dramatics." A wave of his hand, Valentino isn't looking up from his phone, busying himself with filling out orders for the next set. He's thinking Blair Witch Project. But sexy. Gotta go through his slut roaster and see if he can find a chameleon demon - or fuck, anything that can turn invisible enough so it looks like Angel is being fucked by a ghost.

Make no mistake though - Valentino is watching him from his peripheral.

"I didn't destroy you. I made you. What good are you to anyone if you're set on ruining yourself? Holes are only so interesting without a decent package and Hell has a short attention span, baby. You'd be replaced like," snap, "that."

Only half true. But Angel's ego was best left not getting too big. Finally lifting his eyes from his phone, it's tossed somewhere behind him as a devilish grin split across his lips, leaning closer to where Angel as he spread himself across the couch.

“ 「 HIT 」 : for the sender to take a hit protecting the receiver, in which the sender is badly hurt. ”

“Thanks for coming in to help clean the shop. Even though that piece of shit had you working all day.” A key twists in the lock and a button is pressed. Cherri waits until the blaring is heard, then darts away from the dilapidated storefront. Being exploded by her contraptions hurt. It was why they were so popular they could be sold. The only downside was she knew that fact a bit too well. What remained of her right foot ached at the memory.

She had all but taken her first regular step down the sidewalk when a familiar face came into view. Deep pink eye rolls to the back of her skull. It had been a bit too long since her ex boyfriend had come to pay her a visit. Really, Cherri should have expected that. She remembers a similar thought the first time he laid a hand on her, too.

“Too late. We're closed. Gotta go try getting your limp dick wet somewhere el—” He took a stance she knew all too well. A hand went back and Cherri froze. It'd been years since he'd last gotten physical with her. Not so long ago she had been alive for it, but enough time passed to where she wasn't ready.

It seemed Angel was, though. Despite her former lover being half his size, it didn't stop her best friend flying backwards. Right into the same entrance she had just booby-trapped against sudden movements.

“Fuck—Angel, move! G—” She stops short as the explosions begin. Remote is taken out of her pocket. She is able to invoke the emergency stop protocol, but it's too late. The bombs had already struck him.

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it's not what Charlie had expected, between sobs and apologies. she knew she'd messed up, badly, she knew Angel had been hurt far more than she could understand and she hadn't protected him, she'd made him more vulnerable, and he never had to forgive her, but he had to know how much she loved him, and — at some point she buried her face in her hands. so she feels his arms around her before she sees him move. Angel is . . . hugging her.

❛❛ dude c-calm down, ❜❜ Jax flinches, trying to hide how he's frantically gasping for breath, if only because Angel is the one who looks like he's about to hyperventilate. one gloved hand comes to cover Angel's smaller one where it's trying to keep his blood inside of him. fuck, this shit hurts.

Alastor looks down at the other man with a strange mixture of disdain and pity. Angel is slumped against the bar, half gone already. even his reprimands are no use when the porn star is in this state. back straightens, one had adjusts his monocle. why even bother?