Steal my Heart

by RandomHamster33

Summary:

Blitzo makes a bad decision to try and steal money from a wealthy prince to save his business. His plan backfires in a way he never would have expected, and instead of being killed, Blitzo and Stolas enter into a strange, sexual relationship. Blitzo tells himself it's not love, it's just transactional, but it's quickly obvious he's in over his head.

Notes:

So I have fallen headfirst in love with VivziePop's works and now I must share my sinful writing.

We don't get a whole lot of information about I.M.P and Stolas before the events of the pilot (at least not yet), so I'm head canoning that I.M.P was just a Hell-based assassination business before Blitzo stole the Grimoire. They reference it multiple times as their only way to the living world, so it can't be too far of a stretch.

Warning: this will contain so much smut. I'm talking a lot, like every other chapter. Including this one. I'll be adding tags for chapters as I update.

Chapter 1: First Meetings

Blitzo sighed as he ran a clawed hand over his horns. The bank statements scattered over his desk glared back at him with the red stamp burned in the bottom corners.

 

Payment Overdue.

 

I.M.P was in a serious pickle—a pickle that, if not handled, would lead to Blitzo losing his company and his apartment. He was barely paying his own bills because he was giving all the money they were making to his three employees for their salaries.

 

He refused to tell them how close the company was to being in the shitter.

 

The lanky demon didn’t regret how he was spending his company’s money, but he was afraid for the future of it. If he didn’t make ends meet soon, he’d lose everything. Despite the fact he had truly little pride in himself, he cared about this, and he wanted to make it work.

 

Blitzo needed money, and he needed it fast.

 

The imp sighed and sank down in his chair, putting his head in his arms. What he really needed was some wealthy benefactor to help finance his business, but he knew no such person. And even if he did, no one would want to help a lowly imp with an assassin’s agenda.

 

The only other option for Blitzo would be to steal (which would be easy, but from who?). Imp City was a dump—there were certainly no decent banks to rob nearby. And he really didn’t want to make a deal with any Overlord for his soul.

 

Blitzo sat up and pulled his phone out. He had some contacts in low places; maybe one of them could do him a favor and find somewhere for him to get money. It was a long shot, but just maybe he could eke a win out of a desperate text message. He sent a few quick texts and then slumped back down in his chair to wait.

 

---

 

A notification from his hellphone distracted Blitzo from shining his boots. He set aside the cloth he was using and picked up his phone.

 

3 pm tomrrw. Goetia Palace.

 

Blitzo’s heart pounded loudly in his chest. Could it be his attempt at saving his business would work? His hands shaking, he shot back a ‘thx owe u 1’ and quickly began researching Goetia Palace. 

 

Oh, I know this place, Blitzo thought as he saw a picture of it pop up on his screen. That rich bird dude lived there, right? Stolar or something like that?

 

Whatever the guy’s name was, Blitzo knew he was loaded. He was a real powerful demon, not an Overlord but just as incredibly rich and influencing as one.

 

And, Blitzo noted with a toothy smirk, the big guy lived closer to Imp City than he’d thought.

 

But why would his contact send him this? What could three pm mean? Stepping foot onto palace grounds as an imp would draw attention, and he’d probably be spit on before he even got close.

 

Blitzo hummed in thought. Well, seemed he had some scheming to do.

 

---

 

Turned out, sneaking into Goetia Palace would be easier than thought.

 

The palace was enormous, and from what Blitzo could see from across the street in a bush, there was a garden party of sorts going on there. Using a pair of binoculars, he determined that there were actually about half a dozen imps just outside—they were servants. All Blitzo had to do was jump one, steal its clothes, and he was free to wander as he pleased.

 

From there, it was as simple as steal something valuable and pawn it, or, if he was tenacious enough (which he was), find some sort of safe and get in.

 

Blitzo grinned malevolently and pocketed his binoculars before beginning his creep around the outside of the palace gates. The tall bushes and trees were well kept and beautifully maintained, and they provided enough cover for him to sneak around without being spotted from inside. He stayed low to the ground, slinking around on all fours, tail hovering just over the ground.

 

He eyed a dense fruit tree and wiggled his haunches, preparing to jump. Blitzo launched himself up into the branches, the tree barely shaking. The foliage maintained his cover as he continued to spy on the party.

 

Each guest was dressed to the nines in bright colors and ridiculously expensive outfits. Blitzo scoffed silently at the pomposity of it all. Who did these fucks think they were?

 

Shaking away the annoyance of the spectacle, Blitzo instead focused on his first target. Another imp strode past. No, too short.

 

The next imp Blitzo saw was also a no. He wasn’t about to parade around the palace in a skirt.

 

Next. The imp serving a table across the lawn caught his eye. Perfect.

 

Blitzo followed the chosen imp with his eyes and began the hunt. He snuck through another row of bushes to cut off the other demon as it prepared to go inside to get another tray of hors d’oeuvres.

 

The servant imp didn’t even have time to utter a choked cry as Blitzo’s clawed hand grabbed it by the throat. Swiftly drawing the smaller demon into his body to keep it still and silent, Blitzo shoved a rag soaked in chloroform over its nose and mouth. The chemical worked its magic after a minute, and the assassin made quick work of undressing himself and the other imp. Disguise now donned (though a tad small), Blitzo stashed his clothes in his backpack and shouldered it before stepping out of the foliage.

 

No one around.

 

Blitzo grinned and made toward the palace’s garden doors. From there, he entered a staggeringly elaborate hallway decorated with portraits and busts of many nobles. Aside from him, the hallway was empty, so Blitzo casually browsed the displays for anything of monetary value.

 

A long line of avian royalty later, Blitzo came upon the most recent portrait. He scanned the gilded placard at the bottom.

 

“Prince Stolas,” Blitzo murmured, saying the name out loud. Well, he’d been almost right.

 

Shaking his head, the demon returned to the burglary at hand. He followed corridor after corridor, each one more ostentatious than the last. Nothing stood out to him as being exceptionally worthy, and each room he’d come across so far had been some sort of guest room or servant’s quarters. There were few other creatures roaming the halls save for another imp or two, of which gave him a nod and kept scurrying about to take care of business. The garden party seemed to have pulled all life outside the palace walls.

 

Blitzo finally came across a rather large set of doors. They were gilded with small details and intricate patterns, and to him, they screamed open me.

 

Blitzo wasted no time—besides the second it took him to glance left and right—in opening the grand doors and peeking his head in. A toothy grin stretched across his face. Jackpot.

 

The demon hurried to the large ivory vanity and began going through drawers. Expensive jewelry was plentiful, and despite the fact he was greedily stealing it, he had to gag at all the wealth in one spot. He planted an arm on the vanity’s table and drew it across, a cascade of top-of-the-line makeup and even a pearl studded hairbrush falling into his backpack.

 

Blitzo was about to move onto the nightstands when he heard the doors begin to open. Wide red eyes snapped to the sound, and when he saw that the room was indeed being entered, he bolted toward the curtained balcony.

 

“Oh—what are you doing in my chambers, little imp?” came a smooth voice. Blitzo winced, not quite to the curtains, and forced his face back to a neutral expression as he turned around. He could have fainted if not for the fact he was a professional.

 

Prince Stolas—it had to be—stood, well, more like towered, just inside the doorway. He wore a long cloak, blood red in color, that matched his vest. The hat upon his head stared down at Blitzo just like Stolas’ actual eyes, and sleek tail feathers swished as the silence lasted a beat longer than it should have.

 

“Uh,” Blitzo said, forcing through a stammer, “just . . . cleaning your room, Sir!” He gave his best smile and feigned innocence.

 

Stolas didn’t seem to believe it.

 

“My room was tidied before the party. You, hm, you’re not a face I recognize,” the owl demon continued.

 

“Uh . . .” Blitzo’s mind scrambled for an excuse.

 

“Tell me why you’re really in here, and I just might let you leave.” Stolas’ eyes glowed brighter for a brief moment in the still dark room.

 

Blitzo sweated nervously. Did he dare actually spill the beans? Would this pompous demon really let him go without first breaking something?

 

“Talk, now,” Stolas demanded, his eyes narrowing. “Or I’ll make you.”

 

Blitzo groaned. “Fine! Fine. I’m not a servant or any shit like that. If you wanna know I . . . was actually just here to rob you,” he ended in a grumble, face red hot at being caught. He tensed, waiting for the Prince to make a move, to snarl, anything.

 

The silence seemed to last a millennium as Blitzo and Stolas stood there.

 

“Oh, is that all?” Stolas finally asked, his voice lightening. He strode forward, flipping on the lamp on the nightstand as he did so, approaching Blitzo with a few long steps.

 

“W-what?” the imp choked. He backed up as Stolas came to stand in front of him. The prince crouched, coming down to meet Blitzo’s eyes.

 

Blitzo’s heart pounded in his chest, throat dry.

 

“Why don’t we talk, little imp? I must say I’m rather impressed by your courage. To come into my palace, into my room, and try to burgle me? Why, you’re very brave,” Stolas said, voice sounding amused. He stood tall again and threw himself down onto a nearby chaise lounge, crossed his legs, and beckoned the smaller demon forward with a claw.

 

Blitzo hesitantly followed but stopped when Stolas gestured so. An armchair was pulled by magic to touch the back of Blitzo’s knees, and the imp sat. His claws dug into the ends of the arm rests, his eyes never leaving Stolas.

 

“So, imp, let us first start with introductions,” the owl demon began. “I am Prince Stolas, as you probably know.”

 

“Blitzo,” said demon responded, his voice tight.

 

“Blitzo, hmm? Alright, Blitzo, why were you brave enough to attempt to steal from me?”

 

“I’m . . . I’m kind of in a shitty spot, financially speaking.” Blitzo rubbed the back of his head nervously.

 

“Of course. With what endeavor?”

 

“I run an assassination business, and, well, we’re not doing so hot.”

 

“Well, of course not! Demons have a plethora of killer for hires to choose from, don’t they? And if they don’t, they do it themselves,” Stolas said. He leaned back in his seat and gazed with slitted red eyes at the imp before him.

 

“R-right, but—”

 

Stolas cut him off with a wave of his talon. “No matter. I won’t hurt you, nor will I bother discussing what transpired here with anyone else. Our little secret.” He winked, then reached forward and pulled at the straps to Blitzo’s backpack with a claw. “I will, however, need to confiscate this. I am going to need what’s in there or else I fear the wrath of my wife.”

 

Blitzo dejectedly watched as Stolas emptied the backpack, wincing with each valuable item that fell out. The prince merely raised an eyebrow and smirked at his discomfort.

 

“These must be yours? You can have them,” Stolas said. He tossed Blitzo’s clothes back to him. “Now that that’s out of the way—and I must say, very good work ransacking the jewelry first—back to business; I will fund your little exploit.”

 

Blitzo nearly had a heart attack. He almost leaped out of his chair in joy—shock? Both? His claws ripped the ends of the arm rests in his emotion.

 

“WHAT?” Blitzo shouted. He hoped to whatever gods there might be that he wasn’t being played.

 

“Shush, shush. On one condition,” Stolas continued, holding up a claw.

 

Blitzo slumped in his seat. Of course, it was too good to be true.

 

“I’m not selling you my fucking soul, so you can shove it up your ass. I may have low standards, but I do have th—”

 

“Quiet!” Stolas chided gently, “Don’t insult me, Blitzo, I have no interest in your soul. If I did, we wouldn’t be sitting here.”

 

The imp paused, confused. “Oh? Then . . . what do you want?”

 

Stolas leaned forward to put his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, looking into Blitzo’s eyes. The gaze made him wary—there was something hungry about Stolas’ stare.

 

“You will join me in bed, and you will fuck me until I can’t walk,” Stolas purred, his voice dropping, tone dripping with arousal.

 

Blitzo’s mind stuttered.

 

“Y-you—me—bed? Fuck? Sex?!” the imp blurted, confused beyond all belief. “I steal from you, and you wanna fuck me?!”

 

“Yes, absolutely!” Stolas grinned. “I’m positively soaked thinking about your attitude, your bravado, to try and rob me! I like your spirit, your spunk, little imp.” He ran his hands down his feathery chest. “Well, I’m hoping not so little.”

 

Blitzo had the urge to cross his legs as Stolas’ gaze went obviously to his crotch.

 

“And if I . . . fuck you, you’ll give me money?” Blitzo asked. “That’s it?”

 

Stolas nodded.

 

“Fine, fuck it. I’ll do it,” Blitzo said.

 

“Perfect~” Stolas purred, standing up and walking to the bed. He undid the clasp at his throat and let his cloak fall to the floor, then took his hat off and tossed it onto the nightstand. The prince splayed across the bedspread, arching his back, tail flicking away from his ass. Glowing red eyes looked back at Blitzo (oh shit those second eyes were also Stolas’, fuck), who was still too stunned to move quite yet.

 

“Don’t keep me waiting, Blitzy,” Stolas cooed, and fuck, that went right to the imp’s dick.

 

“Fine—don’t call me that. How you wanna do this?” Blitzo asked as he stood up, shedding the shirt and jacket he’d stolen from the servant.

 

“Rough,” Stolas said, flipping onto his back and spreading his legs.

 

“You normally this much of a cock slut?” Blitzo stripped his pants off, leaving his boxers on. He stepped onto the bed and crawled into position between the prince’s legs.

 

Stolas let out a small, aroused growl, his body giving a quick shiver.

 

“Not normally, no, but,” the owl said, “something about you has me weak. I’ve never felt like this, I must admit.”

 

“Never been this horny for the guy about to rob you? Fucking weirdo.”

 

Stolas reached up and took Blitzo’s head in his hands and dragged him down for a kiss.

 

Fucking birds, Blitzo thought as Stolas’ beak contacted his lips. It was like kissing a piece of plastic.

 

Okay, maybe not that bad.

 

Stolas moaned into Blitzo’s mouth as the imp opened for him, allowing their tongues to slide together.

 

“So fucking desperate, huh? You never get any action or what?” Blitzo asked as he pulled away.

 

“None,” Stolas whimpered, his hips bucking up to contact the other demon’s.

 

“I can tell. Now, you good with what I do from here?”

 

Stolas once again nodded fervently, his face red.

 

Blitzo dipped his head in acknowledgment and then busied himself with stripping the clothing from the prince. It took way longer than he wanted to admit to slide Stolas’ pants down his legs because god dammit, why did he have so much leg?!

 

As soon as Stolas’ underwear came down, the smell of arousal hit Blitzo’s senses threefold.

 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, it’s a damn wonder no one smells you from here,” Blitzo growled, his cock hardening in his boxers. Stolas only let out a soft moan, spreading his legs farther.

 

The feathers around the prince’s cloaca were soaking wet. Stolas’ chest rose and fell with rapid breaths—he was excited, and it showed.

 

Blitzo lowered his face to Stolas’ opening and inhaled deeply before his long tongue slid from his mouth to lap at the entrance. It drew an instantaneous response from the owl, who gasped and twitched his hips into Blitzo’s mouth.

 

“You fucking stay there,” Blitzo ordered, using his hands to hold Stolas’ hips down. “Little whores have to wait.”

 

“Mm, Blitzo, I want you in me,” Stolas groaned, his own hands gripping at his face.

 

“Yeah? Good.”

 

Blitzo continued his assault on the avian’s wetness, rapidly licking and sucking with his tongue and mouth. Stolas squirmed underneath him but couldn’t get much leverage because of the clawed hands holding him down and open.

 

Stolas whimpered, his hands going down to Blitzo’s horns.

 

“Fuck me-!” the prince begged, pulling at Blitzo.

 

The imp smirked into Stolas’ heat and just continued with fervor, diving deeper than before to remain where he was even as the bird squirmed under him.

 

“I-I’m—!”

 

Stolas didn’t even get out his sentence before he shuddered, a wave of ecstasy flowing over him. Blitzo was nearly drowning in cum as he vivaciously ate out the other demon. Only after feeling the tremors subside did the imp pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm and sitting up.

 

Stolas was sweating, his chest heaving, head thrown back into his pillows. A few feathers were scattered on the comforter.

 

“Hope you liked that, because that’s only act one of this horny little play,” Blitzo said. Stolas let loose a soft hum, his eyes watching the other demon intently as he pulled down his boxers.

 

The prince smiled as Blitzo’s cock sprang free. It was long, a good girth, and speckled with white just like the rest of the imp’s body. The triangular head of it leaked precum, a testament to how excited Blitzo had gotten by watching Stolas unravel.

 

“Are all imps this well endowed, or am I just lucky~?” Stolas crooned. His tail twitched in anticipation, already down from his high and twice as horny as before.

 

“Dunno,” Blitzo grunted with a shrug, casually running a hand down his length. His other hand reached to finger Stolas’ sopping wet hole. The owl demon sighed and grabbed Blitzo’s hand, pushing his two fingers deeper into him.

 

“You’re too good at taking this for a prince, aren’t you?” Blitzo scoffed, pretending to not be interested even as he slipped another finger in and rubbed the front wall of his partner’s heat.

 

“You would not imagine how lonely I get here, Blitzy. I have to find ways to pass the time now and then,” Stolas murmured. He was distracted by the sensations in his cloaca, the warmth building down there again. Another finger and he moaned loudly.

 

“I fucking said not to call me that.” Blitzo frowned, flushing, and then removed his claws from Stolas’ folds and wiped his hand on the sheets. “Do you want this demon dick or not?”

 

Stolas trilled, his demeanor switching back to excitement. “Yes! Please, fuck me!”

 

Blitzo couldn’t help the slight roll of his eyes and instead scooted up to align his erection with Stolas’ entrance. Every feather on the owl demon trembled minutely in response to his tensed muscles. Long legs pulled Blitzo in further, though the imp adjusted his position to not slide in just yet.

 

“Blitzo! Come on, what are you waiting for?” Stolas whined, grinding his crotch against the other’s.

 

“You are gonna give me money after this, right? You’re not just fucking and then eating me or something?” Blitzo asked, his claws grabbing Stolas’ hips and tightening.

 

“Of course not! I would never—you’ll get your money, I promise, just put that red monster in me!” Stolas bucked up into Blitzo’s hips, desperate for a smidgen of friction.

 

“Okay, good. Calm down, ya long legged fuck, I’m getting to it.”

 

Blitzo lined up and pressed the tip of his cock against Stolas’ folds. The prince cooed, his feathers ruffling. Nearly smirking at how hungry Stolas was for dick, the imp slammed his hips forward, hilting himself fully.

 

“Blitzo!” Stolas wailed, back arching off the bed.

 

“Like that?” Blitzo asked, now grinning ear to ear. It sounded so good to hear someone calling his name in pleasure.

 

“Y-yes, keep going-!”

 

Blitzo took Stolas’ thighs in his hands as leverage and wasted no time in beginning to thrust in and out of his moist heat. The imp set a back breaking pace, determined to follow through with what the prince had wanted in exchange for money. Blitzo needed to make sure he got something out of this, after all. But . . . while he was there, he might as well have a good time.

 

Stolas was letting out little, well, bird sounds, Blitzo could only describe them as. Trills and squeaks were interspersed with moans and actual words, mostly along the lines of:

 

“Oh, f-fUCk, Blitzy, harder!”

 

Stolas’ hands were all over himself, tugging at his plumage, running down his shoulders, and carding roughly through his dark hair as both sets of his eyes closed in ecstasy. Blitzo found it exceedingly hot, how the owl kept moaning his name and looked to be enjoying himself more than he had a reason to. At least Blitzo could make others like something about himself.

 

Stolas made it obvious when he was close to coming, what with all the noise he was making.

 

“G-gonna cum, so close~!” the prince gasped, his back arching off the bed. Blitzo slammed in extra hard with his next thrust, and it sent Stolas over the edge immediately. Another wave of wetness resulted in a lewd series of suction noises as Blitzo continued to fuck the owl demon without hesitation. He wasn’t there yet, but he would be soon.

 

As Blitzo neared his orgasm, Stolas rode out his own, the pleasure still coming in sharp, almost too intense spikes as he was still pounded by the imp’s large cock. His hands dug into the bedspread, and his legs shook as he clutched tightly onto Blitzo’s sides.

 

“You’re taking my dick so damn good,” Blitzo said through partially gritted teeth as he got closer. Stolas shuddered in response to the praise and tightened around Blitzo’s length as an aftershock sent lightning up his spine. That was finally enough to send the imp over the edge, and he came, hard enough to see stars.

 

From his position, Blitzo could only reach to about the prince’s chest plumage, which was good enough for him. As he pumped Stolas full of semen, he fell forward and buried his face in the fluffy gray feathers, his clawed hands digging into the bed on either side. Coming down from his high, he went slack and found himself laying on top of the other demon.

 

There was a touch on his back. Blitzo hazily realized it was a hand, Stolas’, tracing a finger along the spines between his shoulder blades. The imp’s tail flicked—that touch almost felt good. He resisted the urge to snap something rude and instead continued to lay there, basking in his afterglow. He couldn’t help but notice that Stolas smelt like dust and lilacs underneath the layer of sweat and sex.

 

“Blitzy?” came Stolas’ voice, gentle and coaxing, “stay for a few hours?” His finger was still running down the imp’s spines.

 

Blitzo grunted; why was he being asked to stay? He was just there for a quick fuck and some money. It hadn’t been his initial goal, but, well, plans change.

 

“Don’t you have a damn party to get back to?” Blitzo asked, finally pushing himself onto his elbows. They made eye contact.

 

“They don’t mind if I’m gone; Stella will deal with them.”

 

Blitzo huffed. “You’re not gonna go back on our deal, are you?”

 

Stolas simply shook his head. “How many times must I say no? I am a demon of my word, Blitzo. Even if you are to leave, I will get the money to you.” He paused. “Will you remain?”

 

Blitzo hesitated. He was tired, sure, but he was wary of Stolas. He decided to just acquiesce and then sneak out after.

 

“. . . Fine. Guessing you’re pooped from being fucked so hard and want a warm body next to you?” Blitzo rolled off the owl demon, settling on the bed next to him.

 

Stolas laughed softly. “You could say that.” He adjusted the blanket so they were both under it. He turned to his side and looked at Blitzo.

 

“. . . What?” the imp asked. The four eyes seemed to stare into his soul.

 

“Nothing. Just watching.”

 

“Well could you cut it out? You’re giving me the heebie jeebies.” Blitzo turned to his other side, leaving his back to Stolas. There were several long moments of quiet before the sheets rustled. A soft snuffle told Blitzo that the owl was falling asleep, and once the breathing turned deep and rhythmic, the imp sat up carefully and glanced over.

 

He was right; Stolas was passed out, his chest rising and falling in turn with the small hoots that occasionally slipped out as he slept.

 

Blitzo gently pulled the blanket back and scooted to the edge of the bed. After checking over his shoulder that Stolas was still sleeping, he grabbed his clothes, brushed a stray feather off his shirt, and prepared to get dressed.

 

He didn’t even get his pants on before something distracted him.

 

Blitzo had seen the book when he first entered the room but ransacking the vanity had taken priority. But now that he was no longer robbing the place, the book was . . . more enticing.

 

Blitzo approached the lectern. The book was opened, revealing a spread of pages, and a clawed hand reached out to brush against the lettering. As his eyes scanned the faintly glowing ruins and symbols scrawled in the magical tome, Blitzo’s heart began pounding louder in his chest.

 

This book allows access to the living world, the imp realized, his eyes wide. This could change everything.

 

What was the point in a boring old assassination business in Hell? They were a dime a dozen, and almost all were run by bigger and stronger demons.

 

But a hitman’s venture into the realm of the living? Now that could bring his business into the front and center, set him apart from all the others.

 

There was only one problem—Blitzo had just dicked down the owner of said book, a demon who could no doubt know exactly who took it, where he lived, and could probably kill him in an instant.

 

Blitzo huffed, pondering his choices. It took him all of five seconds to decide he was indeed stealing the book. It was such an enticing opportunity, and he couldn’t just let it slip away.

 

Stolas shifted in bed behind him. Blitzo hissed out a curse and bolted toward his pile of clothes to grab his jacket and pull it on—good enough. Mostly naked, he closed the book and pulled it off the lectern.

 

Oh, fuck, Blitzo thought, it’s heavy. Hefting the weighty tome, he fumbled toward the balcony. He couldn’t let this slow him down. Stolas was still sleeping, evident by his soft snores, but Blitzo couldn’t risk being caught stealing. Again.

 

After making a deal to get money, he definitely couldn’t.

 

Grinning maniacally, Blitzo whispered gleefully to himself, “Got this book, got this fucking heavy book!”

 

If he could use this book to save his business, then dammit, he was gonna try no matter what.

Chapter 2: Worry

Stolas was woken up to his wife barging into the room.

 

She wasn’t happy.

 

After screaming at each other—mostly at Stolas—Stella tore out of their bedroom in a flurry of white feathers and expensive fabric that had been ruined by cake. Stolas stood there, his satin robe (thrown on haphazardly in order to maintain some sense of modesty in light of the coming argument) clinging loosely to his thin frame. He gripped at the lapels, fighting the urge to break something. He couldn’t be mad at Stella for being upset—he’d technically cheated on her, after all—but they had never truly loved each other, and he knew she, too, had various affairs behind the scenes.

 

Stolas sighed and turned around, heading toward the balcony to let some light in. He pulled the curtains open, preparing to clean up, when he stopped.

 

His eyes turned to the Grimoire—

 

It was gone.

 

Stolas stared at the spot the book had been, remembering very clearly that he’d set it on the lectern prior to the party. There was only one reason it was gone, and he knew the culprit had been the one who’d just fucked him silly a half hour ago.

 

So that little imp stole my Grimoire? Stolas mused. He should be angry. He should track that lout down and kill him for taking his property.

 

But Stolas wasn’t mad; he wasn’t even surprised. He’d known asking Blitzo to stay—when he’d just caught him trying to rob him—hadn’t been a good idea. But for some reason, he’d wanted the imp to stay; he’d wanted another warm body in the bed.

 

He wasn’t even sure why he wasn’t mad.

 

Was it because he was too tired to be mad? Too overwhelmed because of his wife’s anger? Or was it simply because the dick he’d gotten had been all he’d ever wanted, and he didn’t want to kill the imp who’d given him such a good time?

 

No, it wasn’t just the sex. There’d genuinely been something about Blitzo that had intrigued him. That was the whole reason Stolas had taken him to bed instead of punishing him.

 

Blitzo was gutsy. Stealing from the powerful demon he’d just tried to trick, gotten a rather generous deal from, and slept with? It took courage (a twisted variation) to do foolhardy things such as that.

 

Stolas hated to admit it, but his sole interaction with the imp left him yearning for more. He wasn’t used to anyone treating or talking to him like that—he was royalty, after all. And yet, Stolas had let that foul mouthed little demon get away with an attempted burglary and then talk to him like that? And he’d been into it.

 

Stolas wasn’t sure what to make of his feelings. All he knew was Blitzo was interesting and he wanted to see him again, to feel the same way he had during their first encounter.

 

Stolas would ignore the Grimoire being taken for now. It wasn’t as powerful in another demon’s hands anyway, only certain rituals being available to anyone that wasn’t him. So, the prince instead began fulfilling his end of the bargain.  

 

---

 

“‘Expansion,’ Sir? What do you mean by that?”

 

Blitzo turned back around to face his employees. He was barely containing his excitement at his new plans for the business, and he’d called a meeting first thing in the morning the next day.

 

“I mean we’re no longer gonna be plain old assassins anymore! And I’ll tell ya why,” Blitzo began answering Moxxie’s question, a finger in the air. He pulled the book out from its hiding spot and dropped it onto the table, startling the two other imps with the hefty THUD as it landed. Loona barely glanced up from her phone.

 

“Uh . . . a book?” Moxxie asked. Millie blinked wide eyes at it.

 

“Not just any book. This bad boy gives us access to the living world!”

 

“W-what? You’re serious?”

 

“Yes, I am, Moxxie! Which is why we’re gonna be the next big thing; we are going to carry out assassinations in the living world, and I’ve got just the marketing strategy!” Blitzo puffed out his chest proudly. He’d been up all night thinking of ways to make this work. “Demons are shitty people, right? A lot of them want revenge, and before, they had to settle for angrily jacking off or slamming shot after shot as they think about their pathetic fucking lives! But now, they can hire us to go and kill whatever mortal piece of shit that made them mad!”

 

Millie and Moxxie shared a look.

 

“So, starting today, we’re rebranding this shit show!”

 

“Sir, if I may ask: where did you get this book?” Moxxie raised an eyebrow at his boss. “This seems like powerful magic, and it doesn’t really feel like something you’d just happen across. You didn’t make a deal—”

 

“Shut up, Moxxie, I didn’t sell my fucking soul for this bitch!” Blitzo shouted, slapping the cover of the book. “How I get my shit is my business!”

 

“I’m not trying to be rude, Sir, I’m just—”

 

“Moxxie, we gotta trust Blitzo to make the right decisions,” Millie interjected, setting a hand on her husband’s shoulder.

 

“R-right, I know, but I’m only expressing my worry that he may have gotten himself into a bad situation.”

 

Blitzo crossed his arms. “I appreciate the concern—I guess—but it’s fine! Everything is 100% fine.”

 

Moxxie’s face fell, but he refrained from questioning it again. Instead, he skeptically eyed the book from his seat.

 

“I have some fliers I made to advertise the new idea, so we’re gonna go hang these up next,” Blitzo continued, waving a copy of said flier in a hand. “With that said, meeting adjourned.” He flicked his tail in a cut off gesture and made his way to the door. Moxxie, Millie, and Loona followed him, the former two engaging in a quiet discussion between themselves. They all entered the ‘waiting room,’ expecting to go back to business as normal, but they stopped in surprise when they saw there was a short imp nervously standing near the front desk.

 

“Uh, hey there?” Blitzo said with the raise of an eyebrow. The strange imp noticed the group returning from their discussion and dipped his head in greeting.

 

“Hello, I’m looking for a Blitzo?” the imp began.

 

“I’m Blitzo. What about it?” Said imp put his hands on his hips, tail swinging behind him.

 

The other imp held up a large white envelope, which was clearly full if the way it was swollen was any indication.

 

“I was instructed by my Master, Prince Stolas, to give this to you.” The imp approached warily and held out the envelope.

 

“O-oh,” was all Blitzo managed to stutter out. He took the thick parcel and immediately noted how weighty it was.

 

Holy fuck is this what I think it is?

 

“Now that I have fulfilled my task, I bid you all good day,” the delivery imp said, and with a small bow, he scurried out of the room.

 

Blitzo’s face grew hot as he stood there awkwardly, the envelope clutched in his hands. He could feel the eyes of his employees on him—examining him.

 

“What was that all about?” Moxxie finally broke the silence.

 

“Who’s Prince Stolas?” Millie asked with a flutter of eyelashes.

 

“What’d you get?” Loona barely seemed interested, but she still moved to peek over Blitzo’s shoulders. The lanky imp was quick to stuff the envelope into his jacket.

 

“N-nothing!” Blitzo shouted in a panic. He tried to keep his back to his workers as they shuffled around him.

 

“Sir, please tell me this isn’t what it looks like,” Moxxie pleaded, sounding worried.

 

Blitzo growled and remained hunched in on himself. “It ain’t shit, Moxxie! Don’t stick your nose into my affairs!”

 

“Sir!”

 

“Can’t anyone in this damn place just leave me alone?! Hang up those fucking fliers around town, now!”

 

The two other imps blinked, stunned, at Blitzo’s furious outburst. Loona merely snorted, rolling her eyes, muttering something about a ‘fucking drama queen.’ She retreated to her desk, obviously leaving Millie and Moxxie to go hang up fliers.

 

“R-right away, Sir,” Moxxie murmured. Millie put an arm around his shoulders to escort him toward the door, snagging the fliers from Loona’s outstretched hand. The female imp glanced back at Blitzo before they left, her eyes searching.

 

Blitzo didn’t look at them as they left, nor did he say anything to Loona as he retreated to his office. He was agitated; what he did in his personal life was his business. Occasionally, he invaded Millie and Moxxie’s personal space, but at least he didn’t judge them for it!

 

Blitzo sat down at his desk and pulled out the envelope. It was stuffed completely full and closed with a purple seal. He slid a claw underneath the wax and the envelope burst open, exposing the stacks of clean, crisp bills inside. Blitzo’s mouth watered at the sight, but he was also wary.

 

Stolas had followed through on their deal. That must mean he hadn’t noticed Blitzo’s theft. Admittedly, it made him nervous; what happened when Stolas did find out? Would that be his death?

 

Blitzo tried to push down the feelings of unease simmering in his stomach and instead focused on counting the money. Each bill was $100, and there were a lot. Blitzo flicked through them with practiced ease and was boggled at how much he’d gotten.

 

$50,000. He could have jumped for joy if not for the fact he’d basically just whored himself out for cash.

 

And stolen a valuable item on his way out.

 

It was enough money to pay off his debts and make sure he stayed in business. Not to mention enough to advertise his new ideas. If Stolas could throw this much money at a pathetic imp he’d fucked, just how much was the prince worth?

 

Blitzo shook his head; it didn’t matter. What mattered was he had the money, and Stolas didn’t know he had the book—for now. He could get to work making the most of it.

 

Blitzo was about to stash the money when he noticed another piece of paper in the envelope.

 

Huh, what’s this? Blitzo asked himself. He must’ve missed it. He pulled out the piece of paper; it was folded in half, and from the feel of it, it was a fine stationary paper. He unfolded the note and read what was printed on it in neat, sweeping calligraphy:

 

Dear Blitzo,

 

I had so much fun last night. I very much think we should do it again; don’t you think?

 

As promised, the money I said I’d give you. Use it for whatever your little heart desires.

 

~Stolas ❦

 

Blitzo nearly gagged reading it, especially when he got to the little heart after Stolas’ name. Did he really think Blitzo would do that again?! It had been a desperate action the first time in order to escape with his life. It wasn’t a fucking outing that he was looking forward to again. The sex may have been surprisingly good, with the way Stolas responded so well, so . . . begging and—

 

Blitzo’s face burned red. He shook his head roughly to dispel the unwanted(?) thoughts and folded the note back up. He tucked it into his desk, telling himself he wasn’t saving it, and stood, preparing to go make payments on his debts.

 

---

 

The first call was a week later.

 

Blitzo was sitting at his desk, planning their next mission (business had started picking up only two days after the change had gone through, he was happy to announce), when Loona shouted his name from the other room.

 

“Blitzo! Some dude is on the phone! Says he wants to talk to you!”

 

Blitzo jerked upright. Typically, anyone who needed to talk to him just called his hellphone directly.

 

“Got it!” Blitzo yelled back, trying to not sound as nervous as he really was. He picked up his phone’s extension and put it to his ear.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello, Blitzo! How is everything?” came Stolas’ voice purring over the receiver.

 

“G-Great, perfect!” Blitzo forced.

 

“Oh, splendid! I assume the money was enough?”

 

“Yup! Totally, thanks!” Blitzo was trying his hardest to make this conversation as short as possible. Never mind he was actually sweating bullets.

 

Don’t say anything about the book don’t say anything about the book don’t say anything about the book

 

“Of course, Blitzy, we had a deal, after all.”

 

“Cool, great, well, it’s not really a good time, so—”

 

“Your personal number, may I have it?”

 

Blitzo froze. Stolas wanted his hellphone number. Fuck, he didn’t want the owl demon to have it.

 

“You know, we’re not really close enough to—”

 

“Close enough? Oh, but Blitzy, just last week you devoured me in my own bed; you wouldn’t call that close~?” Stolas’ voice took on a deeper purr.

 

God fucking dammit.

 

“You wouldn’t give your number to a prostitute,” Blitzo deadpanned. Stolas laughed, obviously taking it as a joke.

 

“You’re funny, Blitzy! Come on, I enjoyed our evening of passion despite the start. Give me your number, pleeeeease?”

 

“Fucking—fine!” Blitzo recited his number for the prince on the other side of the line and died a little more in the inside.

 

“And Blitzy, one more thing?” Stolas continued.

 

“What?” Blitzo grumped.

 

“Do be careful with that book, it is quite important to me!”

 

Blitzo choked on his own spit and coughed, doubling over in his chair. Stolas laughed.

 

“Bye-bye for now, my little imp.”

 

And with that, Stolas hung up the phone, leaving the flustered imp to catch his breath.

Chapter 3: Reward

Stolas quickly found calling Blitzo and flirting with him to make him flustered was one of his favorite activities. The imp always reacted so well to his advancements; it was hardly his fault. For this reason (and maybe a few others), he made sure to call him several times a week.

 

Another interesting development with Blitzo was that Stolas had begun to find him in his palace. More than once, the prince would be going about his day and see Blitzo and maybe even his little workers running about. One afternoon, they’d even made themselves at home and gone swimming in the pool out back. Stolas had taken a picture, of course, and uploaded it to his Voxtagram in response to Blitzo’s own post. Stolas wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d spent a lot more time than necessary admiring the lanky imp from afar. He was so cute when he was having fun—or anytime, really, and the fact that Blitzo was ending up more and more involved (even if he was just sneaking into the palace to have his own fun) in Stolas’ world made the prince exceedingly happy. He wished the imp would actively visit him when he came because for the most part, Blitzo didn’t even talk to him. While this in itself was somewhat of a disappointment, Stolas was just glad that Blitzo was comfortable enough to at least come around.

 

The only problem, however, was his wife. If Stella saw Blitzo or his little workers running amuck, she’d have a conniption. After the first time Stolas noticed the imp slinking about at his palace, he’d called him later that day and spoken to him about avoiding Stella. So far, it seemed as though Blitzo had listened to the advice, for his wife had said nothing. The servant imps they employed had also been okayed to Blitzo and his gang’s presence, so there truly was little stopping Stolas’ little lover.

 

Which meant it fit right into the expected when Blitzo suddenly appeared one night as Stolas was sitting on the bathroom counter in front of the mirror. The prince’s eyes lit up as he just barely caught sight of the imp in the reflection.  

 

“Blitzy~! You should have told me you were stopping by!” Stolas said as he walked out from the bathroom into the bedroom. Blitzo jumped, startled, peeking up from where he was concealed behind the bed.

 

“I’m not—how did you know I was here? I was being quiet!” Blitzo snapped. “And why are you naked?!” He averted his eyes and stood up, a hint of a blush visible on the white side of his face.

 

“Well, my sneaky little imp, I saw you out of the corner of my eye.” Stolas sashayed closer to him, long tail feathers sweeping the ground. “As for why I’m nude—do I need a reason?” He let out a laugh. “In all seriousness, I was just about to begin preening, and it is an activity that’s easier without restrictions.”

 

Stolas sat on the bed and leaned his upper body toward Blitzo. The imp glanced over to an eyeful of chest plumage and flushed harder, looking away again.

 

“Oh, now, Blitzy, if you want to look, you can,” Stolas purred.

 

“Fucking stop,” Blitzo growled. He shoved himself away from the bed and made to go toward the door.

 

“Wait, Blitzo!” Stolas threw out a hand, brushing the imp’s arm. Blitzo actually stopped, to both their surprise. “You never spend any time with me when you’re here. Why don’t we relax together?”

 

“So you can just make sex jokes all night?” The imp curled his upper lip in a snarl. “I’m not in the mood to fuck, anyway.”

 

Stolas shook his head, a small smile on his face. “I won’t, I promise. And besides, I had a long day of boring meetings; I’m not looking to have sex. I was just going to preen and go to bed.” He cocked his head. “Why are you here, anyway?”

 

Blitzo crossed his arms with a grumble. “I forgot my gloves here earlier.”

 

“Ah, well then, I can help find them, if you’d like? And maybe . . . you could stay and talk with me for a while?” Stolas asked, hopeful.

 

Blitzo glanced over, eyeing the prince up and down. He didn’t say anything for a long moment before finally sighing.

 

“Fine! I’ll fucking stay. But I don’t wanna hear any lewd shit, got it?” Blitzo snapped. His tail lashed angrily behind him.

 

“Of course, Blitzy.” Stolas let out a trill of happiness and tilted his head toward the bathroom. “Would you like to learn how to preen?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why ever not?”

 

Blitzo blinked, leveling the prince with a perplexed expression.

 

“Because you want to fuck me, like, all the time. Why would you want to do anything else with me?” Blitzo asked.

 

“Because I enjoy your company? I know I may be a bit . . . overboard, sometimes, with my flirting, but I’d like to get to know you better, Blitzy,” Stolas responded. “Is that so wrong?”

 

Blitzo didn’t say anything. His expression was unreadable.

 

“I’ll go grab the preening oil,” Stolas said as he stood up. He fetched the bottle from the bathroom and came back to find Blitzo now sitting on the bed. “Would you like to help preen me, Blitzy~?”

 

Blitzo tensed, rubbing an arm. “I guess . . .”

 

“Don’t be so nervous; it’s easy. Here, I’ll show you.”

 

Stolas took a seat next to the imp, a small shiver running through his body. His feathers fluffed up, earning a soft snicker from Blitzo, which Stolas smiled at. He popped the cap on the bottle, putting a dollop of oil into his hands. He rubbed his palms together and then began gently running his fingers through the shorter feathers on his thigh.

 

“You just . . . like straighten them out?” Blitzo asked slowly.

 

“Sort of, yes. You just want to get each feather coated, from the base to the tip,” Stolas explained. “Although these smaller feathers aren’t as showy, they’re still important to preen to keep them healthy.”

 

“Okay. I’m pretty sure I can do that.” Blitzo took some of the oil and put his hands on Stolas’ other leg. When the prince trilled lightly, Blitzo glanced up at his face, eyes narrowed. “You’re not lying when you say this isn’t sexual?”

 

“It’s not sexual, Blitzy, I promise,” Stolas laughed. “Birds often preen each other, whether they’re friends or family.”

 

“Hmph. Just making sure. Don’t make this weird!” Blitzo retorted, even as he continued to pick idly at Stolas’ thigh, making his way up to his hips (though his face was burning red). “And I’m not doing your bird dick area.”   

 

Stolas simply laughed again and returned to preening himself. He gently attended to his so-called ‘bird dick area’ without being vulgar about it and was working up his stomach when Blitzo slapped his hands away.

 

“Stop—you’re ruining my damn process,” Blitzo snapped. “If I’m gonna do this, I’m doing it all my way.”

 

Stolas was shocked into silence momentarily, his face heating up. Both sets of eyes blinked, stunned, but he quickly settled back down as Blitzo’s hands continued grooming up to his chest.

 

“Very well, Blitzy,” Stolas replied. He tried to hide how satisfied he was, but he could tell the imp was embarrassed already.

 

“Whatever.”

 

Stolas found himself happily humming as Blitzo preened. The imp was being gentle—so unlike their time in bed. His hands were big but soft in practice as they trailed through the feathers on the sides of Stolas’ head. Blitzo adjusted his position to do the prince’s back.

 

“You’re very good at this, my little imp,” Stolas praised casually.

 

“Um. Thanks,” Blitzo said blandly. It was obvious he had no idea how to respond. Stolas exhaled softly in amusement. He allowed for a brief moment of silence before continuing.

 

“Do you like coming to my palace?”

 

Blitzo shrugged.

 

“You’re often here, scurrying around, yet you seldom say hi to me.”

 

No response.

 

“Blitzy?”

 

“. . . It’s whatever,” the imp finally said. “I just like invading others’ spaces, I guess. I dunno.”

 

“Like your employees’?”

 

“Sometimes.” Blitzo’s hands faltered where they combed through Stolas’ tail feathers. “Why do you fucking care?”

 

“As I said earlier, I wish to know more about you, Blitzy.”

 

“Mm.” Blitzo fell silent. Stolas didn’t want to drive him away, so he acquiesced.

 

He’s so mysterious, Stolas thought, eyes half lidded through the preening. I wish he’d let me in.

 

They remained like that for a while, Blitzo tending to Stolas’ preening, no words being spoken.

 

“Okay, done,” Blitzo said. He sat back from his position behind Stolas. The prince stretched, feathers ruffling, and got to his feet. He swiped his robe from the chaise and pulled it on, finally covering himself.

 

“Oh, Blitzy, you did such a wonderful job,” Stolas purred as he admired himself in the mirror. “I feel so much better, and I look so fluffy~” He took his phone out, preparing for a selfie. Blitzo bolted before the camera went off, but Stolas was immensely pleased when the end of the imp’s tail was caught in the photo.

 

“In a hurry, my little imp?” Stolas asked as Blitzo frowned at him from the other side of the room.

 

“I found my glove,” was all Blitzo said, indicating to a single glove he now wore, “so I’m gonna leave now.”

 

“Oh?” Stolas made no move to correct Blitzo on the premise of the second glove. “Well, thank you for the preen. It was lovely.” He gave the imp a small wave. “See you soon?”

 

Blitzo just grunted as he exited. Stolas smiled; this was the best he’d felt in weeks. He looked at his phone and the picture he’d taken. He refrained from commenting on how cute Blitzo’s tail was and instead added a small caption about his preen.

 

Not even twenty minutes later, as Stolas was about to go to bed, a notification popped up. He checked his phone, knowing it was Blitzo, and laughed. Five minutes later, he had another date.

 

---

 

The next night, they watched Spirit, Blitzo’s favorite movie. The imp showed up in a slightly too big sweater instead of his usual work clothes, and Stolas barely stopped himself from telling Blitzo he was cute more than once. But that aside, Stolas was content to cuddle up to the imp (carefully, mind you) and hold him even when he began crying over a sad scene. They didn’t talk much that night, nor did they do anything else, but Stolas could tell Blitzo was happy just watching the movie and eating popcorn.

 

Stolas had to refrain from kissing the imp before he left for the night; that had been the biggest challenge.

 

A week later, Stolas tried to surprise the imp with a romantic evening (maybe he’d been naked in the bath. Whatever). Blitzo had said he was free that night. He arrived at his apartment drunk.

 

While disappointed, Stolas had tucked him in and left water and aspirin on the bedside table. Blitzo had babbled incoherently throughout the incident, mostly random specks of information about horses. Stolas had morosely went home after that.

 

Unfortunately, the little imp then did what he did best, and a few days later, found the pair of sexy underwear ( . . . panties) Stolas had accidentally left behind in his haste to tend to a woozy Blitzo. He posted the picture on Voxtagram—something little shits would do, of course— while waiting for Stolas to let him in.

 

They had a few more dates. Blitzo refused to call them that, insisting they were just hanging out. Stolas sent him a Spirit hoodie; Blitzo sent him a care package when he was sick.

 

The day after Stolas’ mild case of bird flu passed, he waltzed into the I.M.P office. Loona glanced up from her phone, an eyebrow cocked.

 

“Yeah?” she asked. She noticed he was holding a cardboard tray filled with drinks. “You brought coffee.” It was a deadpan statement.

 

“Coffee?!” Blitzo’s head immediately appeared from the doorway to his office. Upon seeing Stolas, his demeanor changed, calming slightly. “Oh, uh, Stolas, why are you here?”

 

“Hello, Blitzy! I just wanted to stop by and make sure you knew how much I appreciated you sending me a care package while I was sick,” Stolas said. He held out the drink tray, presenting it to the room. “So, I brought you that iced coffee you love so much.”

 

“Fuck yeah!” Blitzo reached forward and snagged a cup. He immediately began sucking it down like he’d never drank anything in his life.

 

“Go ahead, you too,” Stolas urged to Loona and the two other imps who had just entered from the other room to see what was going on.

 

“Oh, thank you, Your Highness,” Moxxie said somewhat nervously as he grabbed one for him and one for Millie.

 

“Awfully kind ‘a ya, Prince!” Millie beamed.

 

Loona grabbed hers, leaning over the desk, and promptly sat back again, paws right back up on the table.

 

“Thanks,” she said with a shrug and a sip. She turned her attention back to her phone.

 

“You’re all more than welcome, of course,” Stolas replied. He focused his attention back on Blitzo—not that it had really left.

 

Blitzo noticed the staring and narrowed his eyes.

 

“What?” the imp snapped.

 

“Nothing~” Stolas said with a smirk. He pulled out his phone. “Selfie?”

 

“Work is for business only.” Blitzo gave him the finger as he took a picture. Moxxie, eyes wide, looked at his boss.

 

“You should be more respectful,” the shorter imp chided.

 

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Stolas laughed with a wave of a hand. “He doesn’t really mean it—isn’t that right, Blitzy?”

 

Blitzo growled as Stolas ran a finger down his snout. The prince leaned down.

 

“You should come over for another reward, later,” Stolas whispered into Blitzo’s ear. A claw traced along his back spines, sending a microscopic shiver down the imp’s frame.

 

“H-hah, right,” Blitzo laughed nervously, face flushing. “Look, we have work to do.” He forced his composure back and straightened up so Stolas had no choice but to give him space.

 

Moxxie, having no understanding of what had just happened, regarded the two of them with confusion. He tilted his head, preparing to say something, when Millie took his hand and led him away, giggling.

 

“You’re right, I shouldn’t interrupt your very important work any longer,” Stolas said, still smiling. He turned, purposely brushing Blitzo with his feathery tail, and headed toward the door. “See you, Blitzy!”

 

---

 

Blitzo hated the fact it hadn’t taken very much more prodding from Stolas to get him to come over. The prince had been adamant that Blitzo deserved ‘another reward’ for being ‘so incredibly thoughtful’ when he’d sent that care package.

 

Blitzo had tried to say that Stolas helping him first that drunken night had been the only reason he’d felt obligated to return the gesture. The truth was, Blitzo wasn’t sure why he’d cared enough to send it. He supposed Stolas wasn’t . . . that bad. Most the time. The imp still didn’t love the lewd calls in the middle of the workday, but he didn’t mind their movie nights or time spent on the balcony watching the stars.

 

They weren’t dates; they were just hang outs.  Blitzo knew he was just a side piece. Maybe that’s why he said yes so fast. After all, he and Stolas hadn’t actually fucked since that first time. Which, Blitzo admitted, was strange considering their “relationship.” And why was Stolas always complimenting him and wanting to know more about him? Who cared about the guy you were fucking’s birthday??

 

Fucking weirdo, Blitzo thought as he pushed the thoughts out of his head. He didn’t want to spend time thinking about things he didn’t understand. The only thing he did want to think about right then was getting his dick wet.

 

Because of course, while Blitzo had been lying in bed just minutes earlier, scrolling mindlessly through Voxtagram, determined to not take Stolas’ offers of a ‘reward,’ he’d gotten a picture message from the prince.

 

It had been foolish to open it.

 

Because once he had, Blitzo’s eyes went wide and he’d choked on his coffee. Blood had rushed to his cock, and he’d almost immediately responded ‘ok comen over.’

 

Stolas’ cheeky kiss emoji in reply hadn’t gone unnoticed, earning a grumble from the now half hard Blitzo. But how could he be mad when his brain wasn’t on full power? It wasn’t his fault he’d been sent that picture!

 

Especially when said picture was of Stolas sitting on his bed wearing only a crop top. The bottom edge of the shirt was held in his beak, lifting the garment to expose his chest fluff. His legs were spread, one dark hand down, holding his obviously wet folds open.

 

Yeah, okay, so maybe Blitzo found the bird attractive—big deal! He was only, well . . . demon. And he wasn’t strong enough to turn down a good fuck.

 

I’ll open a portal for you, Blitzy, so you don’t have to walk around town with that raging erection! ;) Stolas’ next message read.

 

Fucking bastard, Blitzo cursed. The aforementioned portal opened into his room, and he went through without a second thought. He emerged to see Stolas laying nude on the bed.

 

“Well, hello there, Blitzy~” the owl demon purred. He sat up, purposely spreading his legs. “Come to get your reward?”

 

“Fucking tease,” Blitzo growled as he stalked toward the bed. The front of his pants was tented, his hard on begging to be let out.

 

“But you love it, no?” Stolas took Blitzo’s hips in his hands when he reached the edge of the bed. He gave them a squeeze and then suddenly pulled the imp forward, switching their positions. Blitzo, now on his back and supported by his elbows, looked up at Stolas with a glare.

 

“What’re you—”

 

“Shhhh, I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Blitzy; I want to taste you.” Stolas cupped the imp’s erection through his pants.

 

Blitzo’s eyes widened. “If you think I’m about to let you and your freaky ass mouth suck me off, then you’re god damn crazy!” He lifted a leg and attempted to shove the prince away.

 

“Ah, ah, ah! Trust me, it’ll feel good. I’m . . . very good with my mouth.” Stolas winked at the imp.

 

“If you bite my fucking dick-!”

 

Stolas shushed him once again, rubbing his hands along his hip bones and up under his shirt, exposing the red-and-white abdomen.

 

“I will do no such thing, I promise. Now, let me reward you for being such a good boy~”

 

Blitzo’s next words stuck in his throat as Stolas undid his belt and pulled his pants down. His erection sprang free, nearly hitting the owl in the face. Fuck, he was so hard thinking about Stolas sucking him off despite the fears he possessed.

 

When the tip of his dick vanished into Stolas’ mouth, Blitzo’s toes curled in his boots.

 

When the rest his dick was swallowed until the tip of Stolas’ beak touched his skin, Blitzo’s back arched off the bed.

 

Fucking Hell—

 

It had been a long time since Blitzo had been given a blowjob. He’d forgotten how intense they could be.

 

Stolas came partway back up and used his tongue to circle the triangular head. Blitzo’s cock twitched in the wet heat, and he had to stifle a groan. Stolas’ hands perched at the base of his shaft, gently petting the warm skin there as he took the imp all the way in again. Blitzo couldn’t help the sharp exhale when the prince sucked suddenly.

 

Stolas opened one red eye and looked right at Blitzo. The imp was blushing, his gaze focused on the demon currently swallowing him down. Stolas seemed smug despite the cock in his mouth, and Blitzo almost wanted to punch him for being such a bastard. Almost.

 

Instead, Blitzo decided to take the reins. He threaded one large hand through Stolas’ hair and applied pressure, pushing the other demon to take his whole cock. Stolas let out a little moan around the beast in his mouth and seemed to fully accept being navigated.

 

Blitzo sat up so he could use both hands. He started slow, allowing Stolas to adapt to the speed and feeling. Soon after, the imp was gasping in pleasure as he fucked Stolas’ mouth none too gently. The prince’s hands were on Blitzo’s thighs, gripping there with desperation.

 

Blitzo approached his climax rapidly. He was tempted to just cum down Stolas’ throat, but the way the prince was taking his facefucking was so hot that he decided to switch tactics to, ironically, reward his ability.

 

Stolas gasped and coughed as Blitzo suddenly pulled his head off his cock.

 

“Good boy,” the imp praised, a grin on his face, “but you’re too fucking hot to not finish in.”

 

Stolas blinked stray tears out of his eyes as he caught his breath.

 

“On the bed, ass up,” Blitzo ordered as he got to his feet and began stripping. Stolas was quick to follow the instructions, moving from the floor to the bed. He stretched out, snagging a pillow and holding it to his chest for support. His tail feathers swept to the side, exposing his glistening entrance.

 

Blitzo stepped onto the bed again and positioned himself against Stolas’ ass. He was nowhere near tall enough to get close to his neck, so he settled for gripping the owl’s hips and rubbing his chin along his slender back with a predatory growl (not unlike a cat, some would say).

 

“Mm, Blitzy,” Stolas moaned, “I want you to fuck me like an animal~”

 

“You’re so fucking hungry for cock, it’s insane,” Blitzo muttered, though his excitement was obvious by the way his dick twitched. Stolas whimpered in response, pushing his hips back into the hardness pressed against his ass.

 

Blitzo didn’t bother with lube just like before. His cock was wet and Stolas was more than soaked enough to accommodate. He slid in easily, shivering at the velvety walls. He wasted no time in beginning to pound in and out of the owl’s cloaca, his claws nearly piercing skin and his breath hot against Stolas’ back.

 

Blitzo was not a gentle lover. He was dominant by nature and loved to boss others around. He fucked like a jackhammer, showing no hesitation as his hips slapped against Stolas’ ass. The owl was crying out loudly under him, his own fingers tearing at the pillow clutched in his grasp. If Stolas’ face wasn’t pushed into the feathery item, Blitzo was fairly sure the whole castle would be at the door wondering if their prince was being murdered.

 

Blitzo came intensely into Stolas, already having been close from the blowjob earlier. He bit at the soft feathers along the prince’s spine, not able to get a good grasp on any flesh. The sensation of being filled caused Stolas to reach his climax a moment later, his whole body tightening around Blitzo’s cock and milking him for all he was worth. The imp felt the other’s tail twitch underneath his belly as he came.

 

With a rough exhale, Blitzo slipped out of his lover and flopped onto the bed. Stolas’ hips fell a second later, his body trembling. Neither of them said anything for a long while as they both caught their breaths.

 

“Did you . . . like your reward, Blitzy?” Stolas asked, chest still rising and falling quickly.

 

Blitzo put his hands behind his head and glanced over.

 

“It was alright,” the imp responded with a slight shrug. Stolas smirked, gazing at Blitzo with half lidded eyes. “Are you hungry?”

 

“Would you like me to get some food prepared?” Stolas asked.

 

“That’d be pretty damn cool, yeah.”

 

“I can do that.”

 

A beat of silence.

 

“Will you stay tonight?”

Chapter 4: Flirt

Notes:

Bit of an in-between chapter before we get really saucy again *wink*

Blitzo rolled over to avoid looking at the other demon, his shoulders tensed.

 

“I’m staying to eat, and that’s fucking it,” Blitzo grumbled. His tail twitched irritably under the blankets.

 

“. . . If that’s all you desire,” Stolas eventually said, his tone deflated.

 

Needy asshole, Blitzo thought, annoyed, before rolling over again. Stolas met his gaze, blinking slowly.

 

“Maybe a little longer than that—maybe,” Blitzo relented as he sat up on his hands. “But right now, I’m starved.”

 

Stolas’ mood lightened immediately at the words, and he nodded before moving to get out of bed to put his robe on. Once he was decent, the prince pressed a button on the wall. Not even ten seconds later, there was a knock on the double doors.

 

“Come in,” Stolas said. A short servant imp peeked his head in.

 

“Yes, Your Majesty?” the imp inquired.

 

“I’d like dinner for me and my guest.”

 

“Your favorite, Sir?”

 

“If you would. Thank you, Tamor.”

 

The imp bowed his head in acknowledgement and exited the room.

 

“So what’s for din-din?” Blitzo asked.

 

“You’ll see,” Stolas replied with a smile. Blitzo rolled his eyes and huffed.

 

“Fine. Be mysterious. Fucking bird.” The imp swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He pulled his boxers and pants on, then strolled to the bookshelf along the wall.

 

Stolas watched him casually, his lithe form slung across the bed.

 

Blitzo began exploring the room some more. He’d been in here more than once (skulking around, of course) when Stolas was out, but he’d never gotten farther than surface level.

 

“Looking for something, Blitzy?” Stolas asked as he observed the imp’s behavior. His tail flicked lightly against the bed sheets.

 

“Not really. Just bored,” Blitzo replied. He spotted a dark chest under the bed and immediately scurried toward it. He clawed it out from its hiding spot and noted it was locked.

 

“What’s in here?” Blitzo asked. He spared a glance at Stolas and was taken off guard by the blush creeping across the prince’s cheeks. “Ooh, something naughty?” A mischievous grin split Blitzo’s face, and he used a pointed finger to pick the lock. Embarrassed at how easy it was for the imp to open the chest, Stolas sputtered.

 

Blitzo peered inside the chest and was greeted with the sight of a handful of very interesting looking sex toys. He immediately cackled, horny ideas forming in his brain.

 

“I told you I have to pass the time somehow,” Stolas pouted from the bed. His face was bright red as he picked at the blanket with his fingers.

 

“You’ve got some real fucking kinky shit going on in here, Stolas,” Blitzo responded with a snicker. There was a pair of silk handcuffs, a small yet heavy paddle, and four different dildos; a red, normal shaped one (wait a second, it reminded him a lot of his . . . own dick—wow), one with bumps covering the length, one that was very thick and resembled a . . . tentacle—holy fuck—and a smoother, smaller one that was strangely out of place amongst the other menagerie of sex toys.

 

“W-well, toys can help me imagine you’re here fucking me silly, Blitzy~”

 

“Hmm, is this-?” Ignoring the bird, Blitzo grabbed the smooth dildo and examined it, dragging a finger down the side. It startled him slightly when it vibrated, but that had been what he’d presumed it was since it was so different from the other kinky ones.

 

“The vibrator? Oh, yes, I quite like that one; it even comes with a little remote,” Stolas said casually, his embarrassment apparently gone.

 

A remote? Oh, Blitzo was getting more and more interested. His dirty mind was getting the better of him. He sorted through the chest and found the remote at the bottom. He tested the button and was perversely delighted when the vibrator responded perfectly. Wow, that top setting was something else. He briefly wondered if Stolas ever put it to the highest level and came off that alone, squirming and—

 

“Looks like you’re getting excited again, Blitzy,” Stolas laughed. Blitzo flushed, shifting to stifle his growing erection.

 

“It’s nothing to do with you, if that’s what you’re thinking!” Blitzo shouted, embarrassed. Okay, so he was full of shit.

 

“Mm, right.” Stolas leveled him with lustful half lidded eyes, a claw swirling in his chest plumage. A smug smile was plastered on his face as the hand worked farther down. Blitzo soon found himself watching as Stolas touched himself, his robe open and legs spread.

 

“You make me so wet, Blitzy,” the prince moaned, thrusting three fingers in and out of his cloaca. “Everything about you turns me on.”

 

“Yeah?” Blitzo couldn’t find it in him to say much as he breathlessly stared. His erection throbbed in his pants, desperate for release.

 

“You gonna fuck me again? Mount me and put that red cock in me?”

 

“Y-you want that?” Blitzo ground his crotch against his palm. Stolas’ talking was driving him crazy.

 

“Ooh, more than anything! Come and fuck me, Blitzy!”

 

That was all it took for Blitzo to finally break his lustful spell. He dropped his pants with record speed and basically pounced on top the other demon. Stolas leaned down and kissed him hard, moaning loudly into his mouth. Blitzo shoved his cock exactly where he wanted it and began pounding. Their second round was pure lust, hands grabbing and clawing and scratching. Blitzo didn’t stop until Stolas was shivering from overstimulation, talons digging into his shoulders and long legs holding him in a death grip. When the imp finally came, it hit him like a truck, and he shuddered and gasped into his lover’s chest.

 

They both collapsed, drained in more than one way, and laid there in a tangled heap of gangly limbs and sweaty skin. Blitzo’s head was swimming hazily; his second high had been so good that he didn’t even want to take the effort to roll off Stolas. He just wanted to lay there in the lilac and dust and drift away with the gentle hands resting on his back.

 

The knock at the door snapped Blitzo out of his orgasmic stupor. He scrambled off Stolas, whom he was basically motor boating.

 

“Dinner, Your Majesty!” the voice on the other side of the door called.

 

“One moment!” Stolas yelled back. He made himself at least somewhat decent, tying his robe closed and smoothing his hair, and then allowed the servant in. The short imp entered pushing a dinner cart. The smell of the food made Blitzo’s mouth water and his stomach growl.

 

The servant imp opened each cloche, presenting their dinners, and then popped the top off the wine bottle and poured two glasses. With a bow, he then exited the room.

 

“Eat up, Blitzy,” Stolas said with a smile. He summoned a lap table for them both as he laid down on the bed.

 

“Why’d you act all fucking secretive if it’s just steak?” Blitzo asked. He’d tugged his boxers back on in their interim. He settled on the bed and picked up his fork.

 

“I never pretended it was some big secret; I merely didn’t tell you.” Stolas’ voice held a tone of amusement.

 

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Right.” The food was too enticing to argue over any longer; the steak was juicy with blood, and the potatoes and corn were glistening with butter. Perfect food for after a fuck.

 

They were both quiet as they ate, too absorbed in how hungry they were to interrupt with talking. Blitzo’s mind wandered. He found himself staring at the opposite wall where the ivory vanity sat. That thought led to what Stolas said about his wife, and that finally led him to wonder, where was Stolas’ wife? He’d mentioned they shared the room, and that she’d been upset they’d slept together. Stolas had also told Blitzo to avoid her around the palace, but the imp had never encountered her in their apparent “shared chambers.”

 

“Doesn’t your wife sleep in here with you?” Blitzo asked. He rarely answered Stolas’ questions, but the prince typically answered his.

 

Stolas hesitated, his shoulders tensing. He chased a bite of food around his plate for a moment before answering.

 

“Well, as you know, Stella doesn’t approve of you. She hasn’t really slept in here for a few weeks,” the prince responded slowly.

 

“. . . And you’re okay with that?”

 

Stolas glanced up at the imp, surprised. “I didn’t know you cared about my relationship with my wife.”

 

“I fucking don’t, but, you know—”

 

Stolas scoffed, amused. “No need to explain, it’s quite alright. I’m . . . glad you’re asking questions.” The bird’s face turned a light pink. “The truth is, Stella and mine’s wedding was arranged. We’ve never truly been in love. I care about her, of course I do, just . . . not romantically. But she’s too concerned with appearances to understand you and me.”

 

You and me. The words echoed in Blitzo’s head.

 

“But you have a kid.”

 

“Yes, and I love Octavia more than life itself. She is my everything, no matter who I’m with.” Stolas smiled at the mention of his daughter.

 

Blitzo nodded slowly. He hadn’t interacted with Octavia much; he’d mostly just caught glances of her as he scurried around the palace.

 

“Is there a reason you bring this up?” Stolas asked.

 

“Just popped in my head,” Blitzo replied with a shrug, swirling his glass of wine.

 

“Hmm.”

 

They finished their meal without another word. When they were both done, Stolas called a servant back up to take their dishes. Blitzo gathered up the rest of his clothes as Stolas washed up in the bathroom.

 

“Leaving?” the prince asked upon seeing him fully dressed.

 

“Ye,” Blitzo said tersely, hands in his pockets.

 

Stolas smiled sadly but nodded and summoned a portal.

 

“Here you go, Blitzy,” Stolas said.

 

“Right. Thanks,” Blitzo replied. He stopped, standing at the edge of the portal, and turned to the prince. “You know, tonight wasn’t bad, like, sex-wise.” He tried to ignore Stolas’ laugh. “But I also wanna say it’d be pretty hot if you . . . wore that vibrator when you see me cuz I stole the remote.” The last part of the sentence rushed out in a flurry of words because he was embarrassed by them, but the idea of Stolas walking around with a sex toy ready to go off at the imp’s whim was too tantalizing to pass up.

 

“O-oh?” Stolas asked, taken off guard. “So naughty, Blitzy!”

 

“aNYWAY, GOING NOW!” Blitzo shouted. He dove through the portal and into his living room, where Loona was splayed on the couch eating chips.

 

“Oh. I was wondering why you were so quiet,” the hellhound said between crunchy mouthfuls. She audibly sniffed the air, and her nose wrinkled. “You smell fucking disgusting—go take a shower.”

 

---

 

“Ugh, Dad, you’re so embarrassing,” Octavia muttered, one hand over her face. She’d seen what he was wearing (a red shirt with palm leaf print) and had immediately paled. “You’re really going out like that?”

 

Stolas grinned and said, “I never get to wear this. Besides, I don’t want to be fancy all the time, Via.”

 

Octavia groaned and shook her head, wondering why her dad was such a dork sometimes.

 

“Let’s get going, shall we?” Stolas waved his hand, beckoning his daughter to follow.

 

“. . . Right . . .”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Stolas and Octavia strolled into Stylish Occult, the latter trying to pretend that her dad wasn’t totally out of place. She headed right toward her favorite section—the taxidermy—but paused when a tall and familiar figure caught her eye. Octavia was about to say hi when she heard her dad inhale sharply.

 

“Uh,” Blitzo started, his eyes wide. Stolas stared back, face red. Octavia wanted to facepalm; they’d been screwing for how long now but acted like blushing schoolgirls when they saw each other in public?

 

Oh, yes, Octavia knew all about her dad’s . . . extracurricular activities. She wasn’t dumb nor blind; she knew both her parents had affairs. She’d accepted long ago that they didn’t love one another but stayed together out of duty. Her mother often made off handed comments about what a whore her father could be—not her words, but ones she sometimes thought about, despite their harshness—and seeing Blitzo running around the palace just cemented in her mind that he was her dad’s latest fuck buddy.

 

Octavia snapped a picture for Voxtagram of the scene before her. It was only after that that Stolas reacted.

 

“Blitzy, what a pleasant surprise! I didn’t expect to see you here,” the prince said, though he was still lightly blushing.

 

“Yeah, well, I’m here,” Blitzo responded. He arched a brow at Stolas. “Can we get back to our photo shoot here?”

 

“Actually,” Loona interjected, “Octavia can help me instead.”

 

Blitzo and Stolas exchanged glances.

 

“Via, you know Blitzo’s daughter?” Stolas asked. He tilted his head in question.

 

“Yeah, duh. She’s been to the palace,” Octavia said.

 

“But only with me when I’m not . . . with Stolas,” Blitzo ended in a mumble, not meeting Octavia’s gaze. She rolled her eyes, hands on her hips.

 

“You’re so fucking oblivious,” Loona said, “I snuck away every time to raid a fridge. That’s how I met Tavi.”

 

“We have a lot in common, so we decided to start hanging out,” Octavia further explained. She and Loona smiled at one another.

 

Stolas was apparently pleased by this, if the way he clasped his hands together and smiled was any indication.

 

“Simply wonderful! I’m so glad our children are friends!” the prince beamed. He glanced down at Octavia. “If you’d like to spend time with Loona, that’s fine by me.”

 

“Let’s go make people annoyed in the dressing rooms at Hell’s Phoenix,” Loona said with a devilish grin. Octavia smirked and nodded.

 

“Totally,” the younger owl agreed, and with that, the two women hurried off before anyone could object. That left Blitzo and Stolas standing awkwardly in Stylish Occult, the former being miffed at his daughter’s abrupt getaway.

 

Stolas turned his attention to the imp and grinned. “Well, looks like it’s just you and me, Blitzy~”

 

Blitzo sighed, slumping his shoulders. “Great.”

 

“Oh, don’t be like that! Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee, and then we can do some shopping, if you’d like?”

 

Blitzo reluctantly agreed with a grumble. He followed the bird, trying to ignore his pounding heart.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Blitzo had to admit seeing Stolas in public wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be. He’d honestly thought the typically horny prince would jump his bones and sweep him away to fuck in the bathroom or something, but instead of anything like that, they were sitting at a casual little diner in the mall.

 

Blitzo took a sip of his iced coffee and set his menu down, taking the time Stolas was distracted to inspect him. There was something very . . . off-putting about seeing the prince in anything besides his robe, royal garb, or just completely naked. The shirt he was wearing really exaggerated his thin neck, and Blitzo would have laughed if not for the fact he actually found it kinda endearing.

 

Wait, did I really just say that?! Blitzo’s train of thought derailed. He internally punched himself. I’m just distracted, is all. No way I basically just called Stolas cute. He’s not cute because he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just hot and sexy and . . . has a nice body—

 

This time, Blitzo pinched his thigh under the table. It was the horny, dominant side of him talking. The side of him that enjoyed destroying the prince in bed.

 

“You’re very quiet, Blitzy,” Stolas said, yanking the imp out of his head. “Penny for your thoughts?” He settled his head in his hands and blinked wide, patient eyes at Blitzo.

 

“Uh, just thinking about what, uh, Loonie is up to,” Blitzo lied.

 

“Oh, I’m sure they’re having quite the time without us grownups following them around.” Stolas smiled and let out a small laugh. “Octavia was horribly embarrassed that I decided to wear this shirt.”

 

“I like it,” Blitzo blurted before he could stop himself.

 

Shit shit god dammit—

 

“Thank you, Blitzy! I also like it. And may I say, you’re looking positively stunning yourself.”

 

Blitzo hated the fact he blushed. “Th-thanks, Loona picked it out for me.”

 

“It suits you, I’d say!”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

“What do you think our dads are getting up to right now?” Octavia asked casually, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed as Loona planted yet another ketchup bomb underneath a toilet seat.

 

“If I knew either of them—I mean, I know one, so I guess I’m full of shit—but I’d say they’re probably having hot, sweaty sex in the backseat of a car right now,” Loona responded.

 

“Ew, didn’t need that imagery. But yeah, that’s kind of what I was betting on, too.”

Chapter 5: Take me in Your Arms

Notes:

Sweet and spicy one for ya guys.

When Stolas saw the video, his claws nearly broke his phone.

 

How dare that little imp flaunt about in the human world using his Grimoire? It was obvious from the blurry video that Blitzo had had no care in the world as he meandered around obliviously—for three minutes!

 

Stolas brought up Blitzo’s contact and pressed call. The phone rang for a short while before going to voicemail.

 

“Little bastard,” Stolas growled. He was about to give that imp a piece of his mind.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Stolas’ talons tapped a rhythm on the arm of the chair as he waited. He was sitting tensely in the reception area of I.M.P, adamant about having a discussion with its owner. Right then, he could hear Moxxie and Blitzo arguing over something by the door to the latter’s office.

 

“Sir, you can’t just not let him in,” Moxxie scolded. “He’s obviously angry—”

 

“His needs aren’t business!” Blitzo hissed back. He glanced over the shorter imp to see if Stolas had heard.

 

Oh, Stolas had heard all right. He refrained from saying anything—for now—and instead stayed seated, patience wearing thin.

 

“Stop being so difficult!” Moxxie snapped.

 

“I’m not!”

 

“Boys, if I may interrupt,” Stolas said, sick of waiting. He stood to his full height. “Blitzy, you and I are going to have a chat—whether you want to or not.”

 

Blitzo audibly swallowed, shrinking somewhat under the prince’s gaze. Moxxie noticed the tension—so thick one could cut it—and was quick to scurry away.

 

“R-right, come in then,” Blitzo said. He left the door open for Stolas to follow behind as the imp retreated to his desk. “So . . . what’s the deal?”

 

“The deal, Blitzo,” Stolas began after he’d settled in his seat, “is that you were videoed prancing about in the human world with my Grimoire!”

 

“Oh. That’s all?” Blitzo’s tenseness seemed to all but vanish as he leaned back in his chair.

 

“‘That’s all?’ Listen here, little imp; I have so graciously allowed you access to my book so that you may do your job. I should not be, but because I like you, I have not taken it back. But you are not allowed to be seen in the living world!” Stolas’ feathers ruffled in anger.

 

“Blah, blah, blah—so what? Humans are always catching so called ‘cryptids’ on camera! Besides, it’s such a bad quality shot that it looks completely fake!”

 

“If word gets out that I’m letting you use the Grimoire, it will not bode well for you nor me!”

 

“And?”

 

Stolas’ eye twitched before he settled into a deeper glower. “You obviously have no respect for my wishes in this regard, Blitzo. You were being careless, and I cannot allow this to happen again—are you even listening?”

 

Stolas glared at the imp as he casually pulled out his phone. Blitzo had a bored look on his face as he fiddled with the device. He was even toying with the keys sitting on his desk.

 

“Blitzo! Could you, for once, take this seriously? Listen to what I’m—”

 

 A shock of pleasure rocketed up Stolas’ spine as the vibrator nestled inside of him turned on. His face went bright red, and through his surprise, he could see Blitzo grinning mischievously. The vibration was clicked up a notch, and Stolas couldn’t help as his frown slipped into a smile. He sank down in his chair, crossing his legs tighter. His eyes went half lidded in pleasure.

 

“You were saying?” Blitzo prompted deviously. He tapped his claws on the desk.

 

Stolas fought off the buzzing sensation and attempted to regain his composure.

 

“I-I’m serious, Blitzy, you can’t just run amuck in the h-human world, it’s . . . ah-! N-not safe-!” Stolas found himself squirming in his chair as Blitzo increased the setting again. His legs shook with the effort of not succumbing to the pleasure.

 

“Mmhmm?” Blitzo’s smirk had yet to fade. He lightly brushed his thumb against the button that controlled the settings, teasing the prince with the idea of more.

 

“Y-you can’t just dis-distract me with that-! This is seri . . . ous . . .” Stolas couldn’t help the little moan that he let out as the imp ticked the vibration up another level. Impossibly, Blitzo’s shit eating grin widened.

 

“C-can’t believe you have that on your k-key ring,” Stolas managed to huff out. He gripped the sides of the chair in his claws.

 

“I think we can both believe it,” Blitzo responded. He rested his chin in his hand. “Want more, birdie?”

 

Stolas nodded despite himself; he knew he’d come here to talk some sense into the foolish imp, but he hadn’t actually expected Blitzo to use the remote!

 

“We’re only at level six; hope you’re fucking ready.” Blitzo was true to his word and dialed up the vibration. Stolas moaned, letting his head fall back. Part of him cursed the fact that he’d slid the sex toy up against the most sensitive part inside him; the other part wished it were bigger.

 

The setting changed again. Stolas’ talons curled at the end of his feet. The next two levels went by fast, Blitzo obviously enjoying the sight of the prince wiggling in his seat.

 

When the imp finally clicked it to its highest setting, Stolas gasped and arched his back into the chair. He wanted to cum, terribly so, but the vibrator wasn’t enough alone to get him there. Then, suddenly, the pleasure stopped. Stolas was yanked back down to reality, his chest heaving and heart fluttering.

 

“Wh-what? Why’d you stop?” Stolas asked. He blinked wide eyes at Blitzo. The imp still had that smug smile on his face.

 

“This isn’t business,” Blitzo replied.

 

Stolas could have punched the little shit in the face, but he didn’t.

 

“You—y-you’re a little tease!”

 

Blitzo flicked his tail up over his head, elbows on the desk. He stuck his tongue out.

 

“Maybe I am~”

 

Stolas barely kept his mouth from falling open. Blitzo was never the one to initiate their sexual encounters; typically, Stolas was the aggressor. And now, having taken the reins, the imp was going to leave him hanging?!

 

He’s so fucking amazing, Stolas thought.

 

“You’re not just going to get me all riled up and then not finish the job, are you, Blitzy?” the prince asked flirtatiously. He finally uncrossed his legs, allowing Blitzo to see between them. “I’ve made such a mess of myself because of you, and you don’t want in?” The crotch of Stolas’ pants was visibly wet from how much he was turned on, and Blitzo’s eyes widened at the sight.

 

Got him.

 

“You know, it’s rude to keep a gentleman waiting~” Stolas purred.

 

Blitzo floundered for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing, before he tossed his keys to the side and swept the several papers and knick-knacks off his desk.

 

“Get on the desk,” Blitzo ordered. He took a step back to allow the bird in.

 

Stolas immediately obeyed, leaving his hat on the chair, and scurried around the desk. He hopped up and planted his ass on the surface to position himself around Blitzo’s waist.

 

The imp slid between Stolas’ thighs and bent down, inhaling deeply and shuddering.

 

“Fuck, you smell so god damn good,” Blitzo groaned. He nuzzled his face into Stolas’ wet groin, earning a sharp gasp. He then stood back up and reached forward to tug the prince’s pants and underwear down and off his ankles, Stolas helping him by lifting himself up briefly.

 

“I’ll have to go treasure hunting real quick,” Blitzo said with a wink as he brushed his fingers lightly against the damp feathers surrounding Stolas’ cloaca.

 

“Come on, Blitzy, enough teasing! Fake one out, real one in!” Stolas whined, rocking his hips into the red hand. Blitzo scoffed in amusement but did as he was told. He slipped two fingers into the prince and took hold of the vibrator. He made quite a show of slowly pulling the sex toy out. Stolas shivered, horny out of his mind, and wished to fill that empty space as soon as possible. Blitzo none too gently dropped the slimy vibrator on the floor. He didn’t waste any time after that, unbuckling his pants only enough to slip his cock out of his boxers. He was already hard, evidently having enjoyed his show earlier, so he stepped forward and placed the head of his penis against Stolas’ folds.

 

“Fuck, come on, come on,” the prince whimpered. “Fill me with your massive cock!”

 

Blitzo’s dick twitched at the words, and he decided to get the show on the road. He plunged into the waiting bird, earning a loud cry. Immediately, Blitzo shoved a hand over Stolas’ mouth.

 

“No screaming and moaning this time, ya fuck,” the imp snapped. “My office ain’t exactly sound-proof. We’re lucky if they haven’t heard already.”

 

Stolas nodded. He wiggled his hips, indicating for Blitzo to get moving. The imp did, beginning with quick, short thrusts. Stolas leaned back on his elbows and wrapped his long legs around his lover’s waist. He loved this vantage point of watching himself get plowed.

 

Blitzo leaned over Stolas’ middle and held him by his hips. His breaths came in fast huffs as he thrusted in and out of the prince. The cheap desk shook with the force of their love making, the wood creaking continuously.

 

Stolas had already been so close, so it was no surprise when he came first. His talons gauged dents into the desk and his back arched, his head thrown back. If he let out the beginnings of a loud cry of pleasure—which he did—it was quickly stopped by Blitzo slapping a large hand over his beak.

 

“G-god dammit, you cock whore-!” the imp snarled through his pleasure even as he reached his climax because of the way Stolas’ heat tightened around his dick. He gasped and tensed, his other hand digging into Stolas’ hip.

 

Both red in the face and panting, the demons sat in silence as they came down from their highs.

 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Blitzo growled, still holding onto Stolas’ face.

 

Stolas’ eyes widened immediately; Blitzo had just called him pretty. The word sent warmth to his stomach in a way unassociated with lust. The imp, however, seemed unaware he’d just let the compliment slip and instead remained standing with his eyes closed, chest still rising and falling with deep breaths.

 

Stolas decided not to mention it. He didn’t want to spoil a good thing, even if his heart still fluttered.

 

“I hope your loud mouth didn’t tip everyone off in this fucking building,” Blitzo continued griping after he’d regained his composure. He pulled out of Stolas, eyeing the fluids now dripping from the prince’s hole onto the floor, and tucked his cock back into his pants.

 

“Well, it’s not exactly my fault you’re so good at this, big boy,” Stolas cooed. Blitzo groaned, stepping away.

 

“Will you cut that shit out? ‘S weird.”

 

“You seem to like it during~”

 

“Yeah, when you’re getting pounded it’s kinda hot. But afterwards, no.”

 

“Fine, fine.” Stolas sat up, using his magic to clean the remnants of their little escapade from himself and the surrounding area. He grabbed his pants from the floor and redressed. He also snagged his sex toy and tucked it into a pocket.

 

“Despite that—which I’m very satisfied with, thank you—I would still like to remind you to be more cautious between worlds in the future, Blitzy,” Stolas said as he put his hat on.

 

“Whatever. Fine. I’ll be more careful, if only to get your feathery dick off my ass,” Blitzo grouched. He fell back into his chair, scattered papers returned to his hands. “Now, if you don’t mind, I was supposed to be planning for a job when you came bitching. Take the walk of shame.”  

 

Stolas smirked as he sauntered toward the door. “Of course, Blitzy; except for the shame part, I’m afraid. I’ll gladly walk past your little workers—as best I can, anyway.” He winked at the imp, earning a flustered huff. “Choi!”

 

Stolas exited Blitzo’s office with a satisfied smile still on his face. The three employees were all in the reception area as he strolled by with a small wave. He knew their eyes were on him even as he left the room.

 

It sent an exhilarating tingle down his spine at others knowing that Blitzo was his.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Fifteen minutes earlier, at the front desk, Moxxie, Millie, and Loona were arguing about why Stolas was there.

 

“He was pissed; Blitzo must have done something stupid,” Moxxie said.

 

“He’s always doing something stupid,” Loona corrected.

 

“Whatever it’s about, I hope it’s not too bad. Stolas basically funds this place half the time,” Millie said. “We can’t afford to lose his business.”

 

“Psh, like that’d happen. That bird bitch is obsessed with Blitzo. I doubt we could get rid of him if we tried.”

 

“Hmm, true. But still, I don’t appreciate Blitzo getting in trouble with a demon who could destroy us all in a heartbeat,” Moxxie said.

 

“I don’t think we’d ever have to worry about that, Sweetie,” Millie said, giving her husband a loving pinch on the cheek. “Prince Stolas seems nicer than most higher up demons.”

 

Loona snorted. “If he’s still wasting time messing around with imps, then yeah, I’d say—”

 

Their conversation was interrupted by a muffled yet loud cry from Blitzo’s office. The three employees froze, eyes wide and glued to the door. They dared not even breathe, their ears all straining to listen; Loona’s own even swiveled toward the source.

 

“What the-?” Moxxie asked after several seconds of silence. He took a hesitant step toward the door.

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Loona warned, her face twisted in disgust.

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Because, dumbass, they’re fucking in there.”

 

Moxxie turned around and gaped at the hellhound, his face turning red.

 

“H-how do you know that??”

 

“Because I have, like, super good hearing. Hellhound, remember?” Loona snarked. “I can hear them . . . starting.” She looked uncomfortable, shifting in her chair.

 

Moxxie appeared mortified as Millie held in her laughter.

 

“That’s so inappropriate!” Moxxie sputtered. “I can’t believe they’re doing that here and now! Do they not realize we’re right here!?”

 

Loona merely shrugged, picking her phone back up and settling down again.

 

“If I were to guess, I’d say neither of them cares,” she responded.

 

“And really, you can’t believe it?” Millie asked. Moxxie couldn’t even argue that point because he really could believe it, actually. He dared not listen too closely to any sounds coming from Blitzo’s office and settled down instead to sharpen the machete their latest client had asked them to use to murder her father-in-law.

 

A quarter of an hour later, the door to their boss’ office opened, and Stolas appeared, ducking underneath the doorway. The two imps and Loona couldn’t help but stare at him as he walked by. He didn’t look any different, not a feather out of place on his royal head despite his apparent activities.

 

Blitzo emerged a few minutes later to a room full of pointed looks.

 

“Hey, team—” Blitzo froze when he realized what looks he was getting. “You heard that, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a deadpan statement. Three nods were his response. “I . . . don’t have an excuse. I rocked that bird pussy.” He thrusted his hips to punctuate his words.

 

“Stop!”

 

“Sir, please!”

 

“Shut up!”

 

---

 

Stolas sat next to his rotary telephone, one claw lazily pulling at the wheel. Blitzo still wasn’t answering his calls. Yesterday, he’d tried the imp’s personal number several times: all went to voicemail. Today, he’d phoned I.M.P, only for Loona to tell him that Blitzo hadn’t come home last night and had yet to be seen.

 

It was a routine; for the last few weeks, Stolas and Blitzo talked on the phone for fifteen minutes. For that reason alone, it was unusual for the imp to miss his calls.

 

But Blitzo having not been seen in the past twenty-four hours? That made Stolas nervous. Loona not knowing where he is was even more nerve wracking.

 

A third day with no sign of hide nor horn of Blitzo, and Stolas was ready to launch an imp hunt. He’d spoken to all the I.M.P workers; none of them knew where their boss was, and they were all worried. Stolas took one of his and Blitzo’s photos and made missing demon posters. He distributed them to the others to hang up.

 

Four days. Stolas could scream. He didn’t know what to do. He’d sent out a few spies to gather information, but no response from them yet. He was constantly checking his phone for a text from anyone telling him that they’d found Blitzo, that Blitzo was okay. Apparently, his anxiety was obvious because he soon found Octavia nudging him in the side. Stolas was ripped from his clouded thoughts.

 

“Wha—oh, Octavia! Did you need something?” Stolas asked.

 

“Uh, no, but you’re molting like crazy. Are you okay?” his daughter asked with a raised eyebrow. Stolas looked down at himself; she was right. Tiny feathers clung to his clothes and littered the floor around his lounge. “You’re upset about something, I can tell.”

 

“I . . .” Did he explain to her? Would she understand?

 

“What?”

 

“I, well, it’s—” Stolas found himself stuttering. His voice was raspy and strained. “It’s . . . Blitzo. He hasn’t been seen in days, and I’m so worried something bad has happened to him.”

 

Octavia recoiled, her eyes full of worry. “Whoa, Dad, it’s okay. You don’t need to cry.” She put a hand on his shoulder.

 

Stolas blinked, unaware of how close he’d been to losing it until he’d had to verbalize his worry. But now the dam was broken, and he felt tears running down his face.

 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

 

“Dad, it’s fine! I-it’s fine, calm down, okay?”

 

“I’m just so worried and you don’t want to hear this and—”

 

Once again, she cut him off. “Dad, seriously, calm down. I get it.” Octavia’s voice was gentle, and the arm she she now rubbed up and down her dad’s back was, too. She gave him a small smile. “I already know you like Blitzo.”

 

Stolas sniffed, wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands. He couldn’t believe Octavia was here comforting him, the one who was crying over his affair against her mother. She truly was the best thing he’d ever done.

 

“Thank you, Via. I’m . . . just feeling a bit overwhelmed right now,” Stolas admitted.

 

“Yeah, I could tell,” Octavia responded with a brief laugh. “But really, I’m sure they’ll find that little weirdo.”

 

Stolas glanced down at his phone’s dark screen, his melancholy and tired reflection peering back at him.

 

“I certainly hope so.”

 

---

 

They found him.

 

They found him.

 

THEY FOUND HIM.

 

Stolas immediately opened a portal into Blitzo’s apartment. Slumped on the couch was said imp looking ragged and exhausted, but alive. He was surrounded by his coworkers, who parted from around him to let the owl though. As soon as Stolas appeared, Blitzo smiled up at him.

 

That smile brought sudden tears to the prince’s eyes, and he had to refrain from latching onto the imp and never letting go. But he did, in fact, throw himself at the bedraggled Blitzo with an embrace tight enough to knock the air out of his lungs. He released him and quickly began fussing over the imp, looking him over for injuries. There were dark circles under the imp’s eyes, and he had some scratches on his face.

 

“Oh, Blitzy! I’m so glad you’re alright; I was so afraid! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need anything? Do you need to go to the hosp—”

 

Blitzo grabbed Stolas’ beak, effectively shutting him up.

 

“I’m fine, Stolas. Just tired,” Blitzo responded wearily. “Don’t cry, big guy.” With a claw, the imp wiped away a tear from Stolas’ cheek, surprising him. Before the prince could get another word in, Moxxie cleared his throat, breaking up the moment.

 

“I think,” Moxxie said, interjecting, “we should let Blitzo rest.” He glanced quickly between Stolas and Blitzo. “Your Majesty.”

 

“Honestly, yeah, I’m . . . so fucking exhausted right now. I really wanna pass out,” Blitzo said.

 

Stolas reluctantly removed his hands from Blitzo’s person.

 

“O-of course, Blitzy. I’m just glad you’re okay,” Stolas said. He wiped his face with the back of a hand and stood. “But you can bet I’ll be back here later.”

 

“I’m counting on it,” Blitzo replied with a soft smile. Stolas gazed at the imp for a long moment, flushing lightly, before he moved.

 

 “Okay. You guys can, like, leave now,” Loona deadpanned.  

 

---

 

Three days passed before Stolas saw Blitzo again. In that time, they’d messaged back and forth, the prince constantly asking if Blitzo needed anything. It was always a no.

 

But Stolas wouldn’t take no for an answer. He sketched in his free time, making a drawing of Blitzo and his horse—also his savior from the kidnapper. It turned out pretty good, if he did say so himself. Stolas was planning on giving it to his little imp. The thing he wasn’t planning on, however, was Blitzo showing up at the palace late at night.

 

“Hey, Stolas,” came the imp’s voice from behind him. Stolas jumped, startled, and turned around to face the source. Sitting crisscross on the open balcony was Blitzo, his hands grabbing his feet and tail swinging behind him.

 

“Blitzy! I had no idea you would be coming over,” Stolas said, a smile breaking out on his face. “Did you get the package I sent you?”

 

Blitzo nodded, hopping off the balcony railing and walking inside the bedroom. His eyes seemed to look everywhere but Stolas’ robe clad form.

 

“Excellent! I do hope you liked it. Our kitchen makes wonderful food.”

 

“Ye, it was good.” Blitzo sauntered around the room, hands tucked into his pockets. Stolas raised an eyebrow at the behavior.

 

“Is everything alright, Blitzy?”

 

Blitzo didn’t answer. His back was to the prince as he seemed to stare at the bookshelf.

 

Stolas approached the imp, concerned, and said, “Blitzo?”

 

“. . . Is it okay if I stay here tonight?” the imp whispered.

 

Stolas was taken aback. “As if you even have to ask! Of course you can, my dear.”

 

It was then that Blitzo turned around. His eyes were watery, lips pulled back in a grimace, fists clenched at his sides. Stolas’ eyes went wide and full of worry.

 

“Blitzy?”

 

“I-I just want someone t-to tell me it’s alright,” Blitzo whimpered. Tears began rolling down his cheeks, and he brought up a fist to wipe across his eyes. He let out a hiccup, and it was downhill from there.

 

“Come here, Blitzy; tell me what’s wrong,” Stolas said, scooping the imp up in his arms. Desperate hands clung to his robe, pulling the two demons closer. Stolas sat down on the bed and held the other, rocking slightly back and forth as if he were soothing a child.

 

“It’s about what happened, isn’t it?” Stolas asked softly. Blitzo’s face was buried in his chest plumage, and the prince could feel wetness beginning to seep into his feathers. The imp nodded.

 

“Would you like to talk about it?”

 

Blitzo didn’t answer, his shoulders instead shuddering with a silent sob. Stolas smiled in sympathy. He decided to take a different approach.

 

“I was very worried about you, Blitzy,” he began, “you know that, right? We all were. It goes to show that you have people who care about you; I care about you. Very deeply, in fact.”

 

Blitzo slowly lifted his face away from Stolas’ chest with a sniffle. He blinked tearily, eyes red. He looked up at the prince, who smiled down at him.

 

“I’m beyond thrilled you’re alright. If you hadn’t been . . . well, let’s just say some poor soul would be getting ripped apart limb by limb.”

 

Blitzo got a small chuff of laughter out of that. He wiped his nose with the back of a hand and rested his head on Stolas’ chest.

 

“Did they hurt you?”

 

Blitzo tensed but shook his head. “No, just knocked me out an’ . . . chained me up.” A pause. “Dunno if they wanted to kill me.”

 

“They didn’t. And now you’re okay. You’re safe here, with me.” Stolas held the imp a little tighter.

 

“Y-yeah?”

 

“Yes.” Stolas leaned down and kissed the top of Blitzo’s head. “I promise.”

 

Blitzo sniffled. “Th-thanks. I . . . I feel better with you.” The words came out as barely a whisper.

 

“I’m so very glad to hear that, Blitzy.” Stolas was on the verge of tears for the third time in a week just hearing those words. “I feel better with you here as well.”

 

Blitzo merely hummed and fell quiet. His head still rested on Stolas’ chest, arms in his lap, and tail curled gently around one of the prince’s forearms. Stolas continued rocking, the soothing motion soon lulling Blitzo to sleep. He was aware of soft purring emanating from the imp, a sound that stoked a loving burn in Stolas’ heart. He stood, walked around the side of the bed, and gently laid the sleeping imp down. He removed his boots and coat before tucking him under the blankets. Stolas then curled into bed next to Blitzo, wrapping his arms tenderly around him.

 

This, the prince thought as he drifted off, is perfect.

Chapter 6: there is no you, there is only me

Notes:

Thank you all so much for the kind feedback! I am so glad my writing is making anyone happy. :) Your comments and kudos are what made this double update possible!

When Stolas awoke, before he even rolled over, he assumed that Blitzo would be long gone. He always left, whether it be right after a night of passion or after the prince fell asleep. It hurt somewhat, but he understood that Blitzo liked his space. To his surprise, Stolas found that when he did indeed turn over, his beloved imp was still there.

 

The only thing Stolas could think was, he stayed. Were they perhaps . . . making ground?

 

There was no use denying his feelings any longer. Stolas liked Blitzo. A lot. They way the imp carried himself with confidence, his obsession with horses, the way he wasn’t afraid to talk to Stolas like he wasn’t royalty. Ever since that first meeting, Stolas had been intrigued. That intrigue slowly grew. Was it love? An infatuation? He didn’t know exactly. And he had no idea how to love someone. His marriage, being arranged, was not representative of love and never had been. But he did know that he wanted to keep Blitzo in his life.

 

“Mm, Stol’?”

 

Stolas realized he’d been staring at the sleeping imp for the past few minutes. Now, Blitzo was groggily waking up and seemed somewhat puzzled that eyes were on him.

 

“Good morning, Blitzy,” Stolas said warmly. He propped himself up on an elbow. “Sleep well?”

 

“Yeah, actually. It . . . was the first night without a bad dream,” Blitzo admitted quietly.

 

“About what happened?”

 

Blitzo nodded.

 

“I’m glad being here helped you,” Stolas said genuinely. “You know, you’re always welcome to stay.”

 

“R-right.”

 

Stolas cocked his head. “Is there something wrong?”

 

Blitzo sighed, glancing down. He drew circles in the sheets with a claw, avoiding Stolas’ eyes.

 

“It’s just . . . I dunno. You and me,” Blitzo murmured.

 

Stolas’ heart fluttered. “What about us?”

 

“I-I don’t know. You act like you want me to, like, do that: stay. I don’t get why.” Blitzo flopped onto his back. “No one else ever wants me to stay.”

 

“Well, lucky for you, I’m not just anyone else.” Stolas smiled and shifted closer to the imp, setting a hand on his chest.

 

“But why? Why aren’t you? The sex is good, don’t get me wrong, but . . . I’m just a little fucking asshole. A charming one, maybe. But not good enough for anyone. Haven’t been my whole fucking life. And now I’m just supposed to believe you give a shit?” Blitzo’s tone took on a touch of anger and despair. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, ignoring the hand now digging into his chest. “And why . . . why am I starting to believe you do?” Blitzo finally let his head roll to the side and captured Stolas’ eyes in his own. The two stared at each other for a long moment.

 

When Stolas finally found his voice, he said, “Because I do care, Blitzy. I care about you. Even if you don’t believe it, not truly; it’s not just about the sex. And it can’t be for you either because you came to me last night of your own volition, right?”

 

Blitzo’s mouth opened and closed twice as he fought to say something. He was evidently struggling to respond.

 

“I . . . I don’t fucking know,” Blitzo whispered. “I’ve gotten so used to being unwanted. D-doesn’t mean anything.” He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, raggedly, as if he were on the verge of tears.

 

“You’re not unwanted,” Stolas said matter-of-factly. He leaned over and kissed Blitzo on the mouth. There was a brief moment where it was one-sided, but eventually Blitzo gave in and reciprocated, pushing just slightly back into Stolas’ beak. When they broke apart, they found their eyes locked together, wide and unblinking.

 

“I . . . I should probably get up,” Blitzo said, breaking the silence first. He tore his eyes away from Stolas and pushed himself up on his hands. “Those humans aren’t gonna off themselves.”

 

Stolas recoiled at the shift, but not in a bad way. His heart was racing; there were butterflies in his stomach. He watched Blitzo clamber out of the bed and to his feet.

 

“Why, yes, your workers probably expect you back, don’t they?” Stolas asked, mostly to himself.

 

“Yeah, probs. I mean, I’ve probably missed today’s meeting, though. But we have a job tomorrow I need to get ready for.”

 

“Would you like me to open a portal for you?”

 

“I-It’s fine. I can walk.” Blitzo perched on the end of the bed and tugged his boots on.

 

“Blitzy—”

 

“I said it’s fine! Just . . . just let me go, okay?”

 

Stolas gazed after Blitzo with confused eyes. The imp threw his coat on as he whisked toward the balcony.

 

“You’ll . . . be available for our call tomorrow, yes?” the prince asked hesitantly. Blitzo didn’t turn around; he merely shrugged before jumping over the railing into the garden below.

 

Stolas fell backwards into bed, his head spinning. Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward?

 

The prince shoved a pillow over his face and groaned loudly and pathetically into it. Love was so hard.

 

---

 

Blitzo mentally berated himself all the way back to I.M.P. Fuck, why had he even gone to Stolas in the first place? Because of nightmares? What a fucking baby! He’d let his guard down and let himself believe he was wanted for just one second—

 

There was no way Stolas was serious. There was no way Stolas wanted him for anything besides the sex.

 

Right?

 

Fuck! Stop, you’re just gonna let yourself get hurt. Don’t let anyone in. Life is easier without romance, love, relationships—

 

Blitzo was half a second away from throwing himself off a bridge with the way his mind was racing. He dug his claws into the palms of his hands until they pricked his skin. The needles of pain became his focus instead of his racing thoughts about last night.

 

Blitzo stormed into his work building and was about to stomp up the stairs when he forcefully stopped himself. No, it wouldn’t do to barge in like a psycho and make everyone wonder what the fuck was wrong with him this time. He didn’t want anymore attention right now. So, taking a deep breath, Blitzo calmed himself down. His heart was pounding obnoxiously loud, knocking against his ribcage.

 

You’re the boss. You’re fucking fine, dude, Blitzo told himself. He took one more practiced breath before returning to work.

 

---

 

Blitzo felt his phone buzz again. He ignored it just like every other time. He didn’t want to talk to Stolas. Talking to Stolas meant addressing the elephant in the room, and he just couldn’t do that right now.

 

Blitzo sighed when the buzzing stopped, indicating he’d missed a call. It didn’t feel right, ignoring Stolas’ calls and texts, but he didn’t want to face the music. He’d been making himself scarce for the past month, rarely taking calls and avoiding Stolas anywhere besides their Voxtagrams. Yeah, he’d replied and commented snarkily on a few of the owl’s posts (like the accidental nude Stolas had uploaded there instead of sending it privately to Blitzo), but their other interactions had been limited lately.

 

Blitzo knew he was being difficult. He knew Stolas wanted to talk to him. But Stolas made him feel things that weren’t just straight anger or lust.

 

Stalking and hounding Millie and Moxxie? Sure, why not. They tolerated him (sometimes), but they worked for him, so he could do what he pleased. Were they friends? . . . Blitzo wished he could say for sure. He’d gone on trips with them, had movie nights where they were all snuggled up on the couple’s couch, and Moxxie had been the one to send Spindle to save him. Were these signs of friendship or were they merely keeping him happy to not get fired?

 

Stolas . . . Stolas was a different matter entirely. While Blitzo lusted casually over Millie and Moxxie’s relationship—wishing he had a bond like that with someone—the imp couldn’t deny what he felt with Stolas was beyond what one would consider friendship. After all, friends didn’t typically kiss, fuck, or turn their partner’s vibrator on in public. Friends with benefits, perhaps?

 

But did mere fuck buddies say things so intimate to each other?

 

Stay for a few hours?

 

I’d like to get to know you better.

 

I care about you.

 

You’re safe here, with me.

 

You’re not unwanted.

 

Blitzo grabbed his head viciously with his hands, claws sticking into his skin. He resisted the urge to rip them down his face and instead forced his arms down. He struggled to breathe as he bent at the waist and hugged his stomach, nose to his thighs.

 

Fuck, fuck, stop! Fucking stop! Stolas doesn’t fucking love—

 

Blitzo yanked his head out of his legs when there was a knock at his office door. Moxxie’s voice sounded from the other side.

 

“Sir? The client is here!”

 

Blitzo dragged in a ragged breath, teeth bared in a soundless snarl.

 

Cool and composed.

 

“Send ‘em in!”

 

---

 

Stolas sighed as he descended into his bathtub. His tense muscles relaxed at the warmth of the water, the additives he’d chosen soaking deep into his feathers with the subtle scent of lilac. Bubbles floated around him and concealed his lithe body below the surface. The bathroom glowed with hues of blue and purple, star signs shimmering on the floor and in the air. Lit candles perched along the rim of the tub.

 

He’d been . . . stressed lately, and a nice bubble bath was the perfect way to remedy that. It was also the best way to get himself loose enough for his plans.

 

Blitzo had been ignoring him lately. Since that night, which they’d never spoken about, he had been incredibly difficult to get ahold of. And what conversations they did have were filled with Blitzo’s hardheadedness from before they’d gotten more intimate. It was driving Stolas mad. So, despite the stubbornness of the tenacious little imp, Stolas had concocted a plan to enable them to spend more time together once again.

 

Stolas would take the Grimoire for one night a month in exchange for Blitzo’s time (dick), and he would allow the imp to keep the book the rest of the time. It wasn’t a lie that Stolas needed the Grimoire to do his personal duties, but such a transactional exchange was less personal. However, with Blitzo being difficult, the prince figured this was the next best way in order to get time with his little lover. Then, once he had Blitzo in his bed, they’d kiss and make up.

 

So, without further ado, Stolas summoned his rotary phone and called Blitzo.

 

---

 

Blitzo staggered into his apartment. Loona followed behind him, carrying their dinner for the night.

 

“Where are you going? I’m not waiting for you to eat,” Loona said as Blitzo dragged his feet along the hallway’s dingy carpet.

 

“Save me a plate, Loonie,” the imp muttered tiredly, “going to bed.”

 

Loona raised an eyebrow, her tail flicking behind her. “Uh, okay?”

 

Blitzo stumbled into his room. His arm still throbbed with pain from the night’s partly botched mission. The sling wrapped over his shoulder was uncomfortable. But those were nothing compared to the ache in his heart.

 

What if we worked out some kind of exchange? Favors for favors?

 

Stolas was a liar; he had been using him for sex. He’d let the prince in, nearly had Blitzo convinced he actually cared, and BAM! he could keep the Grimoire only in exchange for a fuck.

 

Why did I ever let myself believe he cared about anything besides my fucking dick? Idiot, the imp thought bitterly.

 

Blitzo flopped onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. A pressure built behind his eyes as he gazed into the darkness.

 

It’s your own fault, you stupid bastard. You’re unwanted and you know it. Why can’t you just accept it?

 

Blitzo’s breathing stuttered as tears ran down his temples and into the fabric of his bedsheets. He refused to acknowledge that he was crying, however, even as a soft hiccup worked its way out of his throat.

 

Useless piece of shit. Only thing you’ve ever been good for is others’ entertainment.

 

Blitzo closed his eyes and saw Stolas hovering over him, poised to plant a kiss on his head.

 

You are unlovable.

 

Blitzo cried silently into the dark room.

Notes:

whoopsidoodle

Chapter 7: The Full Moon

Notes:

I'm almost sorry for this absolute filth. Warning for quite a bit of degrading here.

The palace was quiet when Blitzo arrived late that night. The full moon glittered in Hell’s night sky, a reminder of the deal. Blitzo scowled at the lunar symbol and tugged his coat farther around himself as he slipped into the garden. He could just take one of the doors—the palace’s imps knew to let him by—but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to deal with anyone else. He didn’t even want to deal with the reason he was here. So, because of that, he shimmied up the vines clinging to the palace walls to reach Stolas’ room, the Grimoire clutched in a curl of his tail. He landed softly on the balcony and stepped inside.

 

Stolas was splayed out on the bed. He was still dressed in his sexy bat costume from Voxtagram. A fleeting thought of ‘he looks cute in that’ was swiftly shoved from Blitzo’s mind. No reason to think those things. Any emotion besides lust tonight was irrelevant.

 

“Why hello there, my darling Blitzy~” Stolas purred. He pushed himself to his hands and knees, stretching his backside into the air and wiggling his tail feathers. He gazed at Blitzo with lustful eyes.

 

Despite his distrust and anger, Blitzo’s cock twitched in his pants as he approached the bed.

 

“Here’s your fucking book,” the imp said without addressing the sultry sight before him. He carelessly dumped the Grimoire on the nearby nightstand.

 

“Perfect. We have all we need to get started, then,” Stolas said. He laid on the bed and stretched a hand out to smooth down the comforter beside him. “Join me~?”

 

Blitzo stared at the spot the prince was indicating. He hated that he was probably about to enjoy this. He hated the fact that this wasn’t sex for fun; it was sex for the book.

 

It was only sex. Nothing more.

 

“Don’t keep me waiting, Blitzy!” Stolas crooned. He dragged a hand up his body sensually.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Blitzo grunted. He began stripping himself of his clothes, going about the task without emotion. Fully naked, he crawled over the bed toward the waiting bird.

 

“Don’t you look delicious~” Stolas placed a hand on Blitzo’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. The imp allowed it but hardly reciprocated, letting the other do most of the work. Stolas’ tongue ran along Blitzo’s sharp teeth before retracting.

 

Stolas leaned away and looked hungrily at the imp, his mouth twisted in a smirk. He gently pushed Blitzo onto his back, the imp’s head landing on the pillows, and sat upon him, straddling his waist. Blitzo watched Stolas with bored eyes, his arms at his sides when they used to be squeezing the prince’s hips.

 

“Playing hard to get tonight, Blitzy?” Stolas asked playfully. He eyed the only half hard cock sitting teasingly close to his crotch.

 

Blitzo didn’t answer.

 

Stolas didn’t seem to care as he slid farther down Blitzo’s legs. He reached a hand to the imp’s still semi flaccidness and ran a finger down the length. The touch sent shivers down Blitzo’s spine, and his cock stiffened a bit more. Stolas trilled softly and adjusted his position again, his head down. He placed a kiss on Blitzo’s hip, then a little lower, and lower, and lower . . .

 

The prince was obviously ignoring the now fully erect cock, instead lavishing the imp with feather light kisses and licks around his hips and inner thighs. The touches made Blitzo tense, his claws kneading into the bed.

 

“Get on with it,” Blitzo snarled. He didn’t want to be teased. He didn’t want this to drag on. Couldn’t they just fuck without the false pretense so they could both move on with their evenings?

 

Stolas, as he rubbed the side of his face against Blitzo’s speckled erection like a needy cat, looked up into the imp’s eyes with a smirk. He didn’t speak as he shifted and then took Blitzo’s cock in hand and squeezed just below the triangular tip.

 

Blitzo rocked his hips, hungry for more stimulation. Stolas was being painfully slow, drawing this out.

 

Just shows I’m his toy, Blitzo thought bitterly, even as Stolas began moving his hand up and down. The imp sighed, hating every second because it was Stolas but also loving every second because it was Stolas.

 

“Mm, I want you inside me, Blitzy,” Stolas moaned. He removed his hand and scooted forward to grind his clothed groin against Blitzo’s erection. The front of his shorts was soaked, and he was practically drooling with lust, eyes glowing in the dim light of the room.

 

“Yeah, obviously,” Blitzo deadpanned. Or else I wouldn’t be here.

 

Stolas cooed softly and rolled his hips into Blitzo’s cock. The stimulation was driving them both crazy, but Stolas seemed content to continue teasing for the time being. Blitzo’s tip was beading with precum, his erection painfully hard at this point, and he was really wondering if the prince had gotten him here just to edge the ever-loving fuck out of him. He snarled softly and dug his claws into the bedsheets at a particularly slow roll of Stolas’ hips. Finally, having had enough, the imp ripped his hands from the bed and planted them on his lover’s thighs and dragged him closer, grinding their crotches together forcefully, prompting a yelp from Stolas.

 

“You gonna get to riding me like a fucking bronco or what?” Blitzo snapped, teeth bared. His tail lashed underneath them.

 

Stolas fluttered his eyelashes. “I was only waiting for your cooperation, Blitzy,” the bird said with a smirk. Blitzo growled, low in his throat.

 

“Fucking tease. God fucking dammit. If you want my cooperation, fine.” Blitzo all but flayed Stolas’ booty shorts with his claws, tearing them off the bird in shreds. Stolas gasped at the action, obviously taken by surprise, but was even more startled when Blitzo’s cock rubbed roughly against his now exposed cloaca.

 

“O-oh, fuck-!”

 

“So wet for me, huh? Sopping wet like a little fucking whore,” Blitzo snarled, emotions channeling through his sexually dominant persona. “Needy and whining like a bitch for my cock. Want me to fuck you?” His fingers dug into Stolas’ ass as he pulled him harder against his erection.

 

“Yes!”

 

“Then get riding, birdie.” Blitzo punctuated his words with a harsh smack to the curve of Stolas’ ass, earning a gasp and a shudder. Despite the initial surprise, the prince was quick to obey, pushing himself up further and lining Blitzo’s cock up to his dripping hole. Stolas hilted himself fully on the red length and moaned as he rocked his hips. Blitzo patted the other demon’s outer thighs none too gently to prompt him to get going.

 

Stolas wasted no more time and used his long legs to push himself up to where only the very tip of Blitzo’s cock was inside him. Red claws dug into soft flesh as Stolas let himself drop back down again. The slap of bodies coming together resounded in the room. The prince began riding Blitzo’s dick at a fast pace, his hands braced against the imp’s abdomen.

 

“Fuck, Blitzo, your cock is so good at filling me up! It’s so fucking big and—”

 

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t wanna hear you yet,” Blitzo hissed, lurching up to snap a hand around Stolas’ beak.

 

Nodding vigorously, Stolas happily agreed, his eyes clouded with lust. Blitzo let himself fall back down into the pillows, propping himself up halfway.

 

Stolas was gasping in pleasure as he continued to fuck himself on Blitzo’s cock. The imp could tell Stolas was getting close by the sounds he was making. When the prince did cum, his head fell forward and he stopped his bouncing, his talons digging into Blitzo’s stomach.

 

Blitzo refrained from allowing his brain to think about how hot it was when Stolas’ back arched during orgasm.

 

“Off,” Blitzo ordered, far from finished. Stolas shifted, pulling the imp’s dick from his warm insides and dripping his own cum all over the bed. Blitzo sat up and promptly pushed Stolas face first into the pillows. His wet member bobbed between his legs as he positioned himself right where he wanted. He pulled Stolas closer, spreading his legs and angling him onto his side. One long leg went over Blitzo’s left shoulder while the other was gripped in a firm hand and held to the side. Now fully exposed, Stolas gazed up at his partner, breaths still coming in quick bursts.

 

Blitzo ignored the bird’s eyes and instead focused on the sight between Stolas’ legs. The feathers around his cloaca were soaked and quivered in time with Stolas’ breaths. The pink flesh of his folds glistened in the sparse light from the room, and the tantalizing view was enough to send a shudder of appreciation down Blitzo’s spine.

 

“Like what you see~?” came Stolas’ sultry voice. Blitzo glanced up, eyes glinting. The owl looked far too smug for his tastes.

 

“Maybe. Maybe I like seeing how wet I make your tight little bird pussy,” the imp replied brusquely. He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust of his hips, grazing Stolas’ cloaca with his throbbing erection and earning a short cry. Before the prince could get another word out, Blitzo plunged his full length into his sopping hole. Stolas threw his head back with a loud moan, his hands gripping at the blankets. The talons at the ends of his feet flexed as Blitzo fucked him mercilessly.

 

“You’re a little fucking whore who likes my big dick inside you, huh?” Blitzo asked crudely and breathlessly. His pace was brutal, even more so than usual, and his claws held Stolas’ legs open without forgiveness. “You’ll do anything for it, isn’t that right?”

 

“Y-yes, Blitzy, it’s so good!” Stolas howled, his spine arching off the bed. “Ah, don’t stop!”

 

“Yeah? Well, I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t walk!”

 

Every thrust of Blitzo’s hips earned a cacophony of moans. Both their groans of pleasure were mixing in a tumultuous waterfall of sounds only exacerbated by the slap of their bodies together. Blitzo shoved his cock in as deep as he could go every time, and he knew he was drawing blood from where his claws were digging in. Stolas came a second time on his length, shuddering and tensing as his orgasm crashed over him. Blitzo kept going, edging closer and closer to his own climax. He tilted his head and bit into the long leg over his shoulder, hard enough to bruise but not enough to break the skin. This earned another gasp of pleasure from Stolas and an evident aftershock of an orgasm if his quivering legs were anything to go by. Blitzo lapped at the bite mark with a forked tongue, delighting in the faint taste of blood pulsing underneath skin.

 

Stolas had snagged a pillow at this point, holding it to his chest and partially over his face to muffle his cries of ecstasy. His face was beet red and sweat dripped down his hairline. His normally fluffy chest feathers were heavy with perspiration as well, probably worsened by the fact he was still dressed in part of his outfit.

 

“Cum again for me, birdie; I wanna hear you scream,” Blitzo growled as he approached his own orgasm. His thrusts were becoming more sporadic as he chased that high. He yanked Stolas down farther on his cock at the pinnacle of the next thrust, and the prince called out into the open air as he trembled from overstimulation. Blitzo came hard, hilting himself completely in Stolas and tensing as waves of pleasure washed over him. A string of drool spilt over lips that were curled in a feral snarl. A drop of sweat ran down his forehead.

 

Stolas went limp, chest heaving. Blitzo fell onto his haunches, cock still buried deep inside velvety walls. He shrugged Stolas’ leg off his shoulder and dropped the other one, the lanky appendages hitting the mattress with soft thumps. Blitzo slowly pulled his softening dick out of the other demon and shifted away to lay at the foot of the bed. Eyes closed, he caught his breath. His tail flicked idly where it hung off the side.

 

Once he was more composed, Blitzo pushed himself up and got to his feet. He moved to collect his clothes. He heard Stolas shift on the bed.

 

“Mm, Blitzy, stay for the night?” the prince asked with satisfaction in his weary, yet clear voice.

 

“No,” Blitzo said. He didn’t even turn around as he zipped his pants up.

 

“O-oh. Okay. I suppose you are a busy imp.”

 

The fucking nerve to sound disappointed. What a cunt, Blitzo thought bitterly. He buttoned his shirt with deft fingers before glancing over his shoulder.

 

“Yeah, I fucking am. Anyway, get the book back to me ASAP when you’re done with it,” Blitzo said with a sharp flick of his tail. He stalked toward the balcony.

 

“Yes, r-right. Well . . . goodnight, Blitzy.”

 

Blitzo disappeared off the balcony into the night.

 

---

 

Stolas would have been very satisfied right now if he weren’t so lost. Why had Blitzo been so cold tonight? Even in the throes of passion, he’d exuded aloofness. While the sex was exceedingly enjoyable—Blitzo had been particularly honest in telling him he wouldn’t be able to walk—the words from the evening left Stolas confused.

 

I thought a night of passion would bring us back together again, the prince thought morosely. Instead, it seems to have done nothing. Or perhaps I’m overthinking. Maybe he just had a rough day at work? Or he is still tense because of what transpired that night he came over?

 

Despite the effort to persuade himself that nothing was wrong, Stolas still found himself unsettled. He pushed himself farther up on the pillows and summoned a cigarette to calm his nerves. The crux of his legs ached, his hips feeling sore as well, and it would have been a sensation he’d have delighted in if not for his doubt. He took a drag from his cigarette and pondered his issue as smoke curled around his head.

Chapter 8: Silver Grenade

Summary:

Blitzo finally realizes something.

Notes:

I'm so sorry this has taken so long! My mental state hit a serious wall, and the writer's block took over from there. I really struggled with this chapter. Nothing felt right. I still don't love it, but I have more definitive plans after this.

“Save it, bitch, I’m working,” was just another one of the many retorts snapped by Blitzo to Stolas’ flirtations. The bird’s constant stream of honeyed words and compliments were starting to make Blitzo’s head spin.

 

“You both need to get a room.”

 

Maybe her dad needs to fuck off, Blitzo thought angrily. Stolas hired him to be his bodyguard, not his prostitute. Psh. Aren’t I already?

 

The day continued with a multitude of imps attempting to murder and/or kidnap Stolas. Honestly, Blitzo was surprised there was even danger considering he’d just assumed the prince was lying out his ass to get the imp to come to Loo Loo Land with him. Apparently not. Which was surprising, considering Stolas wasn’t afraid to lie about . . .

 

Blitzo shook his head with a soundless snarl and focused on his job again. He blew the brains out of an imp sneaking up on Stolas and was rewarded with a flirty, “Oh! My, what aim you have, Blitzy~”

 

Blitzo lost track of Stolas after that.

 

That slutty fucking clown needed to get his.

 

“Bitch, I make more money killing people than you do being a cheap-ass robo-ripoff of an overrated sell-out jester!”

 

“Oohoohoo! Someone's salty! Real or not though, people love me! Does anybody love you, BLITZO?”

 

---

 

Blitzo curled up in his bed, blankets pulled over his shoulders. Small shivers wracked his body, which throbbed dully where bruises marred his flesh. He’d retreated to his bedroom upon returning home, claiming he was just tired and sore after their long day. Loona had easily believed him and let him be.

 

He was only half lying; it wasn’t a real lie if it was partly true, right?

 

Pulling the blanket up tighter around himself, Blitzo closed his eyes. He’d gotten used to these waterfalls of emotions; he’d had quite a few of them as of late.

 

He’d rarely felt this shitty mentally until recently. Why was that? Well, the answer was glaringly obvious and called him Blitzy.

 

“Does anybody love you, BLITZO?”

 

Blitzo nuzzled farther into the comforting warmth of his pillow. He wanted the thoughts to leave him alone instead of screaming in his head. The voices were deafening.

 

No. No one loves me, Blitzo thought dejectedly. His eyes burned. Would things have been different if he’d been able to say yes? Probably not. He would have still gotten into that fight with Robo Fizz, but maybe he would have felt better about it.

 

His phone dinged. Blitzo shifted just enough to unearth the device from underneath a fold of blanket. The screen was glowing and displayed a text from Stolas. Of fucking course. The last thing he wanted right now was more reminders of how he was just a fucktoy. Blitzo pulled the blanket over his head.

 

His phone dinged again.

 

Fucking Hell.

 

Blitzo swiped his phone and slid it open.

 

Birdie Bitchlord: Blitzy, I’m sorry I didn’t stay longer to make sure you were okay. Octavia and I needed some father-daughter time.

 

Birdie Bitchlord: How about you come over tomorrow, and I’ll take care of you? We’ll have a movie night?

 

Blitzo scowled at his phone. Like hell he was going to spend any time with that asshole outside of their agreement. He’d been doing a well enough job of keeping to himself. He just fed Stolas lies about how he was busy.

 

Blitzo: no im good

 

The imp then put his phone on silent and tossed it across the bed. A guilty pang in his heart made his hands clench tighter around the fabric bunched in his fingers. He didn’t like ignoring Stolas because what they had before, it had seemed real.

 

Seemed, Blitzo reminded himself bitterly. Wasn’t actually anything. He never actually cared.

 

He scoffed. Why am I acting like I liked him? I didn’t. He was just . . . okay. That was all.

 

Blitzo knew, deep down, he was lying to himself.

 

---

 

Stolas frowned at his phone. His messages with Blitzo were open, staring coldly back at him.

 

What am I doing wrong?

 

Stolas sighed, slumping in his chair and putting his chin in his hand. He tapped his talons on the desk and settled down to think.

 

Blitzo didn’t want to come over. There had been a point, Stolas had thought, that the imp would have come over if asked. Truthfully, the more the prince thought about it, he was sure Blitzo hadn’t been to the palace even to roam around by himself the last two months.

 

This thought made Stolas wilt.

 

He was doing something wrong. It had all started after Blitzo got kidnapped. They’d shared that intimate night, and then . . . Blitzo had begun avoiding him like the plague. And despite Stolas’ attempt to bid for at least one night a month, it didn’t seem to be working. The imp was cold as ice. It was like they’d never made any progress at all.

 

Or perhaps there was never any progress in the first place. Perhaps Blitzo decided he didn’t want a married man. But . . . previous evidence suggested otherwise, didn’t it?

 

Stolas closed his eyes, leaning into a hand with a sigh. All this emotional toiling was giving him a headache.

 

---

 

Blitzo was sleeping in; he’d given everyone the day off, and he intended to do whatever he wanted after the previous day’s fiasco. Loona was out with a friend shopping (or causing mayhem; whichever came first), so he had the apartment all to himself. He was sprawled over his bed, spread eagling that bitch, when he was woken up by the doorbell ringing.

 

Blitzo jolted from his hazy half doze to look around. He blinked sleep from his eyes and groaned; fuck whoever decided to wake him up at two in the afternoon. Slinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he yawned and scratched his bare chest.

 

“Coming! Motherfucker,” he grumbled. He plodded to the door and checked the peephole.

 

Blitzo’s mouth went dry and his blood pressure skyrocketed. He dared not even breathe.

 

What the fuck was Stolas doing here?!

 

Reluctantly, rage boiling under his skin, Blitzo threw the door open, preparing to spit venomous words—only to be met with a beaming Stolas holding two coffees. He wasn’t dressed in his usual royal attire, instead wearing a light blue romper—collar popped—that was almost sinfully short. The outfit and the look on the demon’s face made Blitzo’s knees weak. Fuck. Why were there still positive emotions relating to that fucking asshole? Their interactions shouldn’t make Blitzo act like a crushing schoolgirl and send butterflies to his stomach.

 

“Good afternoon, Blitzy!” Stolas beamed. He held out one of the iced coffees. “Oh, I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

 

Blitzo blinked stupidly at the owl. He knew his sparse clothes must’ve screamed ‘I woke up like this’ because that was true.

 

“Uh . . . it’s fine, I was just . . . dozing anyway,” Blitzo said. He scratched the back of his head with a large hand as his other took the proffered coffee. “So, like, why’re you here?”

 

“Well, I know you turned down my offer to come over, but . . . you and I don’t spend any time together anymore. And you had a rough day yesterday, so I wanted to come cheer you up. That’s okay, isn’t it? I know I’ve come uninvited, but I felt you might like company?”

 

Blitzo did his best to keep the wince from his face. Spend the day with Stolas? Fuck, he didn’t know if he could do that.

 

The prince seemed to sense the hesitance, and his features drooped.

 

“I mean . . . i-if you don’t want to spend time with me, you don’t have to. I just . . . we don’t have to do anything intimate. I wasn’t planning on coming over to jump your bones—”

 

“Fine. It’s fine. Come the fuck in, then,” Blitzo grumped. He backed away from the door to allow the prince to enter. Stolas’ mouth lifted back into a smile as he ducked under the doorway.

 

“Hungry at all, Blitzy? I also brought some seafood ravioli from dinner last night; thought you might like it,” Stolas chattered as he suddenly materialized a Tupperware container in his hands.

 

“Um, yeah, actually, I haven’t eaten yet.”

 

“Wonderful! Here, I’ll warm it up for you. Why don’t you pick out a movie in the meantime?”

 

Blitzo stared blankly at the prince who now fluttered his eyelashes at him. He nodded without even thinking, earning a bright smile before Stolas turned his back to get to work in the kitchen.

 

Blitzo was confused. Here Stolas was making him lunch, telling him to pick out a movie, treating him like a . . .

 

A little whisper in the back of his mind said, boyfriend. Blitzo shoved that voice down.

 

And Stolas was doing all this after showing up unannounced and unprompted. He’d even mentioned he hadn’t come here to slob his knob.

 

I don’t even know what’s real, the imp thought with frustration. One second we might be . . . close . . . and the next? He’s only with me to get his rocks off.

 

Blitzo sighed internally at his emotional game of tug-o-war. He was so conflicted; between ignoring Stolas entirely but also missing the tall demon simultaneously, his mind was being pulled in every direction. He turned his attention to picking out a movie. He had quite a few, some not even opened, so he decided to select one of those and pop it in.

 

Blitzo grabbed a hoodie from his room and then flopped onto the couch. Stolas entered the living room a moment later, two plates of food in his hands.

 

“Lunch, Blitzy,” the prince said. He held one plate out to the imp who promptly took it. Blitzo would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t starving, and he knew that Stolas’ cooks were very good at their jobs, so he took took the proffered food and began wolfing it down.

 

“My, someone has an appetite!” Stolas laughed. He took a sip of his coffee as he seated himself in close proximity to the imp. “So, what are we watching?”

 

Blitzo tore himself away from taking another bite and glanced up. “Uh, some movie I got as a gift from Loona. Never watched it. Brokeback Mountain, I think.”

 

“A cowboy movie, I can only assume?”

 

“Psh, of course. As if it wouldn’t be.”

 

Stolas only smiled at that and settled in, a sleight of hand making a fork appear in his grasp. Blitzo kept one eye on the prince even as he ate; they were so close together, their thighs lightly touching. He allowed it for now.

 

They relaxed and instead focused on the movie. Blitzo didn’t know what to expect from it, but as long as there were horses (there were), he would watch it.

 

However, it became increasingly clear as the film progressed that this was no mere cowboy movie. A fact Stolas was becoming aware of as well.

 

“Oh, Blitzy,” the prince started, his voice a purr. A talon crept up to run down Blitzo’s thigh. “You didn’t tell me this was a romantic movie~”

 

Blitzo flushed, his hands twitching at his sides at the contact.

 

“Cuz I didn’t know,” the imp grumbled, swallowing thickly. The dark hand traveled from his waist to his chest, Stolas angling himself to press more of his body against Blitzo. “What’re you doing?”

 

Stolas grinned. “We can’t cuddle while we watch a movie?”

 

“W-well, as long as that’s all we’re doing.”

 

“Fine by me.” Stolas’ tone screamed of contentment as he snuggled up to Blitzo further, laying his head on his chest and all but forcing the imp to slide onto his back. His head supported by a ratty throw pillow and Stolas pressed against his body (and halfway hanging off the small couch), Blitzo was acutely aware of how domestic this was. One of his hands was even settled warmly on the curve of the prince’s spine. His hand went slowly up and down with the rhythm of Stolas’ breathing. His feathers tickled the underside of his chin. Stolas’ scent warmed him despite his animosity, the now familiarity of it settling into his bones and mentally launching the imp to the time before the deal.  

 

Before. Hmph. Blitzo scoffed internally. Before Stolas revealed his true intentions.

 

His eyes prickled without his consent. He forcefully blinked, frowning to himself at the wave of weakness.

 

A brush against his ribs startled Blitzo out of his stupor. He glanced down at the bird, whose hands had just slipped down to gently hold onto either side of the imp. The touch was so soft, so casual. Like this was something they did often.

 

Why did Stolas bother trying to spend time with him when he only wanted him for sex? Why was Stolas holding him like this, watching a movie? Why did Stolas do anything with Blitzo outside of riding his dick?

 

Not for the first time, Blitzo was confused. He tried to concentrate on the movie—he’d been spaced out for a significant chunk of it by now—and attempted to not let his mind wander. He wanted to lose himself in this romance between the main characters instead. He wanted to pretend he could have something like that.

 

Blitzo’s attention quickly wandered back to the demon snuggled against him and the hands on his ribs. This . . . this wasn’t so bad, was it? Things seemed better now, pretending that nothing was wrong. It felt more like normal again.

 

Normal, huh? Didn’t think Stolas would ever be part of my ‘normal’ life, Blitzo mused bitterly. But . . . maybe things can improve from here. If I can pretend everything is fine, that nothing ever changed.

 

Blitzo’s claws curled into Stolas’ back as a wave of emotion rushed over him.

 

Fuck, he wanted this. The realization made his heart skip a beat and his stomach flip.

 

I want this so fucking bad.

Notes:

Also, came across a comic that CalisDraws made on Twitter for this story! I'm so glad that my work makes people happy :) Here's the link if you'd like to check it out:

https://twitter.com/CalisDraws/status/1352431739109580800

Chapter 9: Fake You Out

Summary:

Blitzo pretends and the Full Moon comes.

Notes:

Thank you all for the kind comments on the previous chapter. I'm on some new meds and am doing better mentally. :)

After Stolas left that night, he noticed a change. Blitzo was no longer as distant and hard to get ahold of as he had been the past two months. Instead of never answering his calls, the imp would at least pick up the phone and say something. He was responding to his texts more regularly again.

 

But every text, every phone call was blanketed by an underlying sense of tension. Neither of them addressed the obvious elephant in the room, simply going about their conversations with one another as if nothing were wrong. Even if one of them did know how to go about prompting a discussion about it, neither of them were willing to disrupt the shred of normalcy they’d managed to reattain.

 

Take, for instance, that Stolas had no idea how to brooch the subject. He didn’t know what was wrong with them, their relationship. He hadn’t the nerve to ask Blitzo, “What are we?” in fear of scaring him off again. It was evident that there was something about the concept of them that unnerved the imp, but would saying that out loud push him further away? Stolas feared the outcome of a conversation and steered clear of it.

 

Blitzo, on the other hand, thought he knew what was wrong with them. He just didn’t want to hear the words. He didn’t want to hear that he was a mere fucktoy, and a replaceable one at that. For an imp with few censors, one who typically spoke whatever was on his mind without regards for others, the avoidance of the topic of his and Stolas’ relationship was unlike him. He put the thought that he was just being used as far out of his mind as possible and pretended things were fine. He could imagine, at least, that there was no deal, and that life was . . . better than the full moon.

 

The remainder of the month was filled with Stolas losing himself in texting Blitzo. The imp regularly brushed off his callous flirting with more umph than before, but that was okay with Stolas as long he got a response.

 

As the moon approached its fullness, Stolas planned their next get together. He called Blitzo the night before.

 

“Sup?” came the imp’s voice. Tired, Stolas noted immediately.

“Hello, Blitzy,” Stolas purred in his usual greeting. “I’ve been thinking—”

 

“Dangerous.”

 

“—About tomorrow evening,” he continued through the snarky comment, amusement clear in his tone. “I was considering doing a bit of . . . roleplaying, hmm? Would you be at all interested in that?”

 

“Uh . . . what kind?” Blitzo asked slowly.

 

“Well, I was thinking maybe you come by and . . . deliver your package.”

 

“And by ‘package,’ I’m sure you’re being both literal and metaphorical?”

 

“Of course! You’re so smart, my little imp!”

 

“Riiiiight,” Blitzo said, sounding uncertain. “Look, I know you love this sex machine, but can’t we just fuck without all the theatrics and move along? I don’t think dragging our night out is gonna do anything.”

 

Stolas recoiled at the response, taken off guard.

 

“W-what do you mean by that, Blitzy? You don’t want to have a little more fun in the bedroom?” the prince asked.

 

“Not really—”

 

“You seemed to really enjoy adding toys before.” Stolas couldn’t help the pout that settled into his voice.

 

“I mean, I-I guess I did, but—”

 

“Please, Blitzy, just try it? At least once? If you don’t like it, we won’t do it again.”

 

There was a sigh over the receiver.

 

“Fine. Fucking fine. Piss baby,” Blitzo grumped after a moment of silence. Stolas perked up again, his smile returning.

 

“Ooh, thank you, my little imp! I’ll have your costume sent over tonight! See you tomorrow~”

 

---

 

I’m really doing this, Blitzo thought dejectedly he opened the gift box that one of Stolas’ servant imps had delivered just a few minutes ago. He held up the ‘sexy mailman outfit’ and just leveled it with a deadpan stare.

 

It was one thing to follow through with the deal and dick down Stolas, but it was a wholly different issue when Blitzo felt as if it were just a performance.

 

Well, it kind of was, wasn’t it?

 

Dance, monkey, dance, Blitzo thought with a sigh. He folded the clothes back into the box for now and sat down on the edge of his bed. He crossed one leg over another, placing his foot on the opposite knee, and picked idly at the sole of his riding boot with his claws. In the other hand, he held his chin up.

 

Talking to Stolas again made him feel better in certain ways. Knowing someone was always thinking about him (even it it was only one part of him) helped him feel more wanted. The other side of the coin, however, was that he knew it was a shallow reason, and thus, he was only useful in one way.

 

Maybe Blitzo would be excited about roleplaying if it wasn’t part of the deal. If, instead of Stolas calling him between full moons, the two of them had finished a casual fuck or something like that, and then the prince had brought it up. As if it were a couple thing instead of an obligatory thing.

 

Couple thing, Blitzo snorted with a roll of his eyes even as he continued to fiddle with the lining on his boot.

 

Truthfully, he could have just outright said no to the proposition of roleplaying. But when Blitzo had questioned it, critiqued it, Stolas had audibly deflated on the opposite side of the receiver. The thought of the prince being upset ate at Blitzo’s insides just as pervasively as before. He hadn’t been able to distress Stolas without feeling guilty at some point, even if that point in time was later.

 

Blitzo sighed. He was such a fucking idiot for going back. He should have never let Stolas in for the movie, never should have let Stolas in, period. But he’d let his walls come down, and despite his efforts, they were hard to slam back up. Blitzo should have known he couldn’t trust anybody because you can’t trust even your own blood in Hell, yet . . . here he was, caught up in his fucked over feelings because he’d trusted someone just once.

 

Blitzo fell backwards on his bed, uncurling from his hunched over position. He laid spread out, arms at his sides, and simply stared at the ceiling. The static fogging his mind threatened to overtake him.

 

Better not let myself drown tonight, Blitzo told himself wearily. He rolled over and pushed himself to his feet. He lazily discarded his boots, shirt, and pants before slipping into bed. He hoped he didn’t have another nightmare.

 

---

 

Blitzo clambered up the side of the palace as he usually did. He slipped onto the balcony, a cardboard box containing the Grimoire tucked into his tail’s grip. The curtains were open, and the room was lit by a moderate showing of candles. The imp couldn’t see Stolas quite yet, but he was no doubt around a corner just waiting to hungrily pounce.

 

Blitzo padded into the warmth of the bedroom and hefted the box atop his shoulder. He glanced toward the bathroom, expecting to see Stolas sashaying out of there, but was met with a dark space.

 

“Oh, Blitzy~” came Stolas’ singsong call, and Blitzo jerked his attention back toward the bed.

 

“How did you—”

 

“Don’t worry about that, my darling little delivery imp~” Stolas was laying on the comforter completely naked except for the smattering of envelopes and stamps taped to his feathers, his legs crossed. “You have a package for me, I see?”

 

Blitzo narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What . . . what are you supposed to be? Why did you tape stamps to yourself?”

 

“Because I’m an envelope, Blitzy! And you’re the delivery man.” Stolas beamed at the imp, his eyes glowing.

 

Blitzo stared. “Right.”

 

Stolas put a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically, his four eyes closing. He sunk into the pillows. “I wish for my package to be delivered! But alas, it seems I have yet to receive any mail . . .” One of his eyes cracked open to peer inquisitively at Blitzo. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

 

Oh, so we’re going now.

 

Blitzo puffed his chest out and slapped the side of the box he shouldered.

 

“Got a package for the Prince?” Blitzo asked.

 

“Oh, yes, that’s me,” Stolas replied with a grin.

 

“Gonna need that postal. Shit ain’t free.” Blitzo put his free hand on his hip and cocked an eyebrow at the owl demon. Stolas let out a soft trill, his feathers ruffling.

 

“Well, I’m afraid my money is in this sealed envelope.” Stolas uncrossed his legs and spread them wide. Blitzo nearly laughed at the envelope taped right above his crotch that covered the intimate part from sight. Instead, the imp somehow composed himself and gave Stolas a long look up and down.

 

“Gonna unseal it?” Blitzo asked.

 

“Can’t do it myself, unfortunately . . . maybe a handsome delivery imp could help me?” Stolas ran a hand lightly across his lower abdomen before trailing it up his body. Blitzo watched, hopelessly enamored with the motion. His cock stiffened in his pants.

 

“I think I can do that.”

 

Stolas’ tail twitched as a small shiver ran down his spine. He said, in a seductive voice, “Come and get it then, Blitzy~”

 

Blitzo dropped the package from his shoulder into his arms and then onto the floor. He approached the bed casually, tail flicking behind him. Stolas watched him with eyes half lidded as he crawled over the mattress and settled between his open legs.

 

Blitzo lifted his hand and gently stroked the envelope covering Stolas’ cloaca. This earned a slight twitch from the bird. With an exaggerated flourish, Blitzo pulled the envelope off and held it in front of his face.

 

“That wasn’t so hard,” the imp said smugly, putting his chin in his hand and gazing up at Stolas.

 

“Oh, come now, Blitzy, quit teasing me,” Stolas pretend pouted.

 

“It’s so much fun, though.” Blitzo smirked, showing off a sharp tooth, and then lowered his snout to press against Stolas’ warmth. He inhaled deeply; the scent of the prince’s arousal was intoxicating. Stolas’ body trembled lightly, tensed and yearning.

 

Slowly, Blitzo opened his mouth and dragged his tongue across the quivering folds of Stolas’ cloaca. The motion was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. Stolas tasted just as Blitzo remembered from their first night together, and that thought sent all the blood immediately rushing south.

 

Ignoring his pants that were nearly bursting at the seams, Blitzo focused all his attention back on his work. He started slow, dragging his tongue in long, languid strokes along the inner edge of Stolas’ cloaca. He just barely let the forked end flick inside with each lick.

 

Long fingers grabbed hold of Blitzo’s horns and pushed his face down. Stolas let out a needy whine and wrapped his legs around the imp’s shoulders. Blitzo refrained from a cheeky remark and pushed the owl’s hips into the bed, spreading his thighs farther apart.

 

Supposing he’d give Stolas what he wanted, Blitzo slipped his tongue inside and lapped along his sensitive upper wall. He found that sweet spot and showered it with attention. His dexterous tongue stroked roughly along its ridges, dumping all his focus into tending to its stimulation.

 

Blitzo’s strategy was evidently working if the prince’s reaction was anything to go off. Stolas was gasping and squirming underneath his attention, his back arching off the bed. His muscles twitched beneath Blitzo’s hands keeping his legs open.

 

“Fuck, Blitzy, you’re so good at this; th-that mouth of yours-!” Stolas sputtered semi coherently. He jerked his hips as much as he could into Blitzo’s mouth in need of more. His arms were crossed over his chest, hands gripping onto his shoulder plumage. Blitzo merely hummed into the prince’s crotch, the sensation sending a pleasant shock to his core.

 

“Blitzy, please, I-I’m so close, I need you!”

 

“Seal almost broken?” Blitzo asked between sloppy cloacal kisses. He made eye contact with Stolas, and the image of the imp’s wet face—erotic and filthy at the same time—between his legs sent an electric pulse through his body. Stolas came, talons digging into his skin and back arching off the bed. Blitzo swiftly brought a hand up to finger the prince as he rode through his orgasm, milking the wave until Stolas began to come down.

 

When Blitzo sat up and crept forward, it was only after Stolas was relaxed and limp in the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily, and eyes closed. Feathers were sprinkled over the blankets, one even sticking to the imp’s forehead. Most of the stamps and envelopes had fallen off because of their owner’s groping as well.

 

“Mm, Blitzy, it’s such a treat to see you in action,” Stolas purred, his eyes opening marginally to look at him. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I think, after that, the package is deliverable?”

 

Blitzo perked up, his mind immediately going to the tightness of his pants. His tail flicked over his head.

 

“Because you’re looking so excited, my little imp~”

 

Blitzo jerked his hips into Stolas’ hand as the prince reached forward to palm his cock through his pants. The pressure on his groin was enormous, and Stolas touching him through a layer of fabric only exacerbated that. Blitzo growled softly in demand.

 

Stolas shot him a smug yet sultry look through half lidded eyes. The hand that wasn’t teasing his cock came up to the side of his face, his thumb stroking underneath an eye.

 

“My handsome little Blitzy,” Stolas purred before leaning forward and slotting their mouths together. There was a brief moment where Blitzo didn’t reciprocate, but he eventually did, pushing back with fervor into Stolas’ beak. The prince’s hand was still busy; Blitzo’s fly came down, and his cock sprang free not a moment too soon.

 

“Fuck, Stolas,” the imp breathed roughly, breaking away from the kiss. He thrusted his hips forward into Stolas’ stroking hand. Suddenly, the touch on his cock was gone, and instead now both hands were on his hips. Blitzo was yanked downwards, his erection bumping messily into Stolas’ entrance. The touch made them both tremble in anticipation.

 

“Give me your big package, Blitzy! I want it,” Stolas demanded, his legs coming up to ensnare Blitzo in their grasp.

 

“Ha, don’t have to tell me twice.”

 

With that, Blitzo lined up and slammed in. His claws fisted into the comforter as he unleashed his bottled-up excitement. He wasn’t sure what about tonight was driving him absolutely insane—they’d fucked like this before—but he didn’t care to give it much thought. All he wanted was to pound Stolas into the next week.

 

Stolas grabbed onto Blitzo’s horns desperately, inadvertently tugging his head downwards. The imp bared his teeth in a soundless snarl as he rawed the prince as hard as he could.

 

Neither of them lasted for long at that furious pace. Each one of Blitzo’s strokes was slamming right into Stolas’ g-spot, earning a cacophony of lewd moans and praises along with the yanking of horns. Blitzo finished with a low growl, cock shoved as far inside the prince as he could go. His hips flexed, tail taut behind him, claws digging into the bed. Blitzo watched Stolas’ face contort into a beautiful look of genuine pleasure as he came again.

 

Both of the owl’s hands were now on Blitzo’s face, curled around his cheeks and eyes. The tips of his talons pressed dangerously into his red skin, not enough to break but enough to feel the pinpricks.

 

As they both wound down from their highs, Blitzo felt Stolas’ thumbs gently running over his eyebrows. The touch was nice—domestic—a hint of that authentic care that Blitzo realized he’d been chasing. With a sigh, the imp relaxed, splaying over Stolas tiredly. He kept his head forward, allowing for more of the caresses, and rested his chin on the bird’s ribs. He snorted softly to dispel a stray feather from his nose. His eyes went partially closed.

 

“Delivered,” Blitzo murmured wearily, a cheeky grin sneaking across his face. Stolas responded with an amused trill.

 

“My baby,” Stolas said sweetly. Blitzo’s heart jumped at the word; his body tensed up slightly, and his eyes snapped open to meet the bird’s gaze. He examined Stolas’ expression as subtlety as he could, hoping his frenetic glance wasn’t giving his alarm away.

 

Baby. His baby, Blitzo thought. He couldn’t see any teasing or flirting in Stolas’ eyes. How real is this?

 

“Do you like this?” Stolas was referring to the massage-like ministrations his thumbs were still repeating.

 

Blitzo, mouth dry, managed to croak out a small, “Yeh.” He hoped Stolas couldn’t feel his heart thumping against his ribcage. Warmth spread across his body, unrelated to lust. His fingers felt as if they were going numb.

 

“I’m glad. I’ve noticed you’ve been stressed lately.”

 

It was the closest they were about to get to even acknowledging the past two months.

 

“Stay the night?” Stolas asked after a pause.

 

“Okay.”

Notes:

Also you can't tell me they roleplay any better than this lmao

Chapter 10: Alive but Barely Breathing

Summary:

Blitzo loses.

Blitzo awoke to a dark room. He was warm, comfortably so, despite the fact he was naked. For a moment, he forgot exactly why he was, until he remembered the previous night and the feathery body he was currently spooning. His torso was pressed against Stolas’ back, arms and legs wrapped under and over his skinny frame. One hand was casually grasping onto chest fluff.

 

 Ugh, what time is it? Blitzo asked internally. He blinked groggily and craned his neck over Stolas’ sleeping form in an effort to find a clock. No such luck. Right, Stolas didn’t have any digital clocks, only analog—the old-fashioned bastard. The only light in the room came from a beam of moonlight peeking through the mostly drawn curtains. Not enough to discern the time on a clock’s face.

 

Phone, phone, Blitzo realized. He used the hand not pinned under his lover to search the bedsheets. He ended up finding his hellphone and discovered it to be about three a.m.

 

I should probably leave.

 

However, Blitzo didn’t make any attempts to move. He slumped back against the mattress, hand once again back around Stolas’ sleeping figure. He stared into the dark.

 

Blitzo didn’t really want to leave. He wanted to stay here and spoon Stolas until he had to get up for work. He wanted a wave and a “Have a good day, Blitzy!” and maybe . . . maybe even a little goodbye kiss.

 

What the fuck am I talking about, Blitzo thought, flustered. He scratched a hand down his face, digging the tips of his claws into his skin just enough to sting. I’m acting like some lovesick fucking teenager! I’m not. Fucking dammit. It doesn’t matter if Stolas likes me or not—

 

Stolas’ coo disrupted Blitzo’s thoughts. The prince shifted, stretching as he arched over and ended up with his torso much closer to Blitzo than before. Now with his chest to the ceiling and his hips twisted sideways (how that was comfortable, the imp didn’t know), Stolas had his nearest arm slung behind his lover’s neck, pulling them snugly against one another.

 

Blitzo blinked wide eyes. He couldn’t help the light purr that started up in his chest. Despite the fact no one was the wiser, he still felt a blush creep up his neck.

 

Fuck, he had it bad. He could barely believe he cared about the horny bird at all, let alone enough to warrant the sort of reactions he was giving. But Stolas all snuggled up to him? Well, Blitzo didn’t mind this at all. He wondered briefly if this was how Moxxie and Millie felt each night, embraced in a lover’s arms.

 

The next thought that hit him was the only thing Stolas cares about is your dick. And holy fuck, that sent Blitzo’s heart into his stomach where it shriveled and dissolved. He didn’t want to lose the feeling of comfort that he’d just had a moment previous, but the reality had to hit again at some point.

 

Truthfully, Blitzo didn’t want to lose this. This thing that he and Stolas were, pretending to be something more than just fuck buddies. The façade of Stolas’ love for him. Blitzo subconsciously curled his fingers into the owl’s flesh. Words from earlier that night echoed in his head.

 

He called me his baby, Blitzo sighed. But the real question was, was it just a simple flirty pet name or something more? Their aftercare last night had been particularly affectionate. Perhaps there was more to Stolas’ affections than just craving a ride on his dick?

 

STOP, Blitzo snarled at himself. If he let himself get carried away in his thoughts, he’d lose another night to the wave that was his insecurities. Just fall back asleep, please.

 

Blitzo tucked his head against Stolas’ ribs and breathed deeply, inhaling the prince’s scent. That familiar aroma settled in his soul and cast a net of relaxation around him. A stray feather tickled under his jaw. He smiled.

 

---

 

“You’ve been rather quiet tonight, Blitzy,” Stolas said as he traced a claw along one of the imp’s large horns. They were out in the garden, laying beneath a large fruit tree. A plush blanket was spread under their bodies, and a modest spread of bread and wine sat before them. Blitzo was swirling his glass absentmindedly where he was leaning up against Stolas, and the prince himself was propped against the tree.

 

“Hmm,” came Blitzo’s quiet response. Stolas frowned; the imp had easily accepted the invitation to come over but had said little most of the night.

 

“Is something the matter?”

 

“It’s nothing really.”

 

Stolas shifted, removing the glass of wine from Blitzo’s hand and setting it aside, then lightly grabbed the imp’s chin and turned his head toward him. Blitzo rolled over with the motion without a fuss, more compliant than he had been in a while, and looked with wide eyes up at his lover.

 

“I can tell whatever you’re thinking about is eating you up. What ever is the matter, my dear?” Stolas asked. He continued to hold Blitzo under the chin. Those yellow-and-red eyes blinked slowly, a deep emotion Stolas couldn’t quite identify lurking just below the surface.

 

Blitzo sighed, sinking into Stolas’ hand and allowing the prince to bear his weight. His large hands rested heavily on Stolas’ chest, his legs kicked up behind him. His spaded tail flicked tiredly over the blanket.

 

“It’s . . . you know how I told you yesterday’s job was fine? Well, it wasn’t. There was this whole fucking thing, and, and I saw my ex, and . . . well. I don’t fuckin’ know,” Blitzo mumbled. His eyes flicked between Stolas and gazing off to the side. “Just dragged me, I guess.”

 

Stolas blinked. “An ex?”

 

“Yeh.” Blitzo must have seen something amusing about Stolas’ expression because despite his mood, a smirk crept across his face. “Jealous?”

 

“N-no! I do not get jealous!” Stolas huffed with a ruffling of feathers. He pouted momentarily before getting back to the topic at hand. “Besides, that’s—it’s not about me.” His feathers settled back down against his skin.

 

“Mmhmm, sure.” Blitzo’s smile vanished quickly, and the forlorn look returned to his face.

 

“Would you like to talk about it?”

 

Blitzo shrugged weakly. “Not really.” His gaze drifted to the side.

 

“Well, okay then, Blitzy. Just know you’re always welcome to speak freely.”

 

They were both quiet for a moment.

 

“It’s just . . . she was my first real relationship, and I thought we were doing well. She even had my name tattooed on her,” Blitzo began. His voice was wistful as he twirled a claw in Stolas’ stomach feathers.

 

“O-oh? Wow, that’s . . . quite a big step,” the prince choked out. Something akin to inadequacy simmered in his belly. Little did he know, Blitzo was experiencing the same but much more intensely.

 

“I know it sounds bad, maybe, well—I don’t know. I loved her—at the time; or, at least I thought I did—but as per fucking usual, she was actually just using me. So, I . . . fucked things up worse to spite her, and we split up on a really shitty note.”

 

“‘As usual’? Blitzy, what do you mean by that?”

 

“I mean—it’s—I—don’t f-fucking worry about it!” Blitzo shoved himself up and away from Stolas, putting distance between them. Arms crossed and shoulders hunched, the imp now sat partially turned away. Stolas, startled, extended a hand out to him, but refrained from going further than that. His arm fell back to his side.

 

“Anyway, just seeing her again fucked me up, I-I guess. We’re bitter toward each other. Expectedly. So whatever,” Blitzo finished. His tone was rougher and angrier than previously. His tail lashed once before curling around his folded legs.

 

“Blitzy, I’m . . . I’m sorry to hear that you had such a bad time; I truly am. But . . . I’m afraid I’m more confused than when you began,” Stolas admitted. He sat up on his knees, folding his legs beneath him. “Is there something else upsetting you? Have . . . I done something?”

 

The way Blitzo had been speaking about his ex, and the dropping of the ‘as usual’ line had left Stolas uneasy. A part of the imp’s anger had seemed to be directed—perhaps inadvertently? —at him. The calm (albeit somewhat melancholy) mood of the evening had suddenly switched to something more tense. The air was thick with it.

 

Blitzo froze. Stolas could practically feel the discomfort radiating off the imp.

 

“I don’t fucking get you,” Blitzo finally said, his voice low. His eyes were downcast.

 

Stolas recoiled. “Pardon?”

 

“You. I don’t fucking get it. Why do you keep up this fucking charade?”

 

“What? What charade? Blitzy, I—”

 

“Stop! I can’t—fuck, Stolas, I can’t do this!” Blitzo shoved himself to his feet, his hands clawing at his face. Stolas was about to stand as well, but the way the imp turned around with fire in his eyes caused the prince to stop in his tracks.

 

“This whole thing is so fucked! Why do you care about anything that happens in my life? Why do you care about spending time with me?” Blitzo shouted. He was gesturing wildly as he spoke. The spines along his back lifted aggressively, his hackles raised. “All you signed up for was this dick. Why the fuck are you still pretending it’s anything else?”  

 

Stolas found himself unable to speak past the lump in his throat. What was Blitzo talking about? Why had his concern triggered such a switch in behavior?

 

“I’m sick of this fucking act! I can’t—I can’t come here and play this fucking game anymore. I,” Blitzo choked, his voice cracking, “I can’t keep going like this. I don’t want to be used anymore.” He scoffed, the sound harsh. “Not even my own kid fucking wants me around. Guess it shouldn’t be a surprise.”

 

Stolas’ mouth worked as he struggled to find the right words to say.

 

“I don’t, I-I don’t understand,” the prince stammered tearfully.

 

“Of course you fucking don’t,” Blitzo snarled. His eyes were watery, and his fists were clenched at his sides. “This is all just a fucking game to you, anyway. Inviting me over, acting as if you give a rat’s ass about me, just to turn around and stab me in the back! You’re just the latest in a long line of bastards to take advantage of me.”

 

“But I—”

 

“Don’t! I don’t wanna hear it! You’re giving me fucking whiplash!” Blitzo shook his head. “It’d be one thing if you just told me from the start you were only interested in riding my cock, but this fucking ‘leading me on’ bullshit? I can’t keep coming back knowing—” He cut off as his eyes widened. Stolas watched the imp inhale a shuddering breath in an attempt to calm down. The prince was still quivering on the ground, every muscle pulled taut.

 

“Knowing you don’t actually, like, fucking like me,” Blitzo finished in a low, rasping voice. He wiped an arm across his eyes. “So yeah. I’m fucking done.”

 

Stolas’ heart was breaking.

 

“Y-you can’t mean that, Blitzo,” he whimpered.

 

“I fucking do. I can’t just go on as if everything is the same as it was,” Blitzo said. He sent a tear-filled look of frustration at the prince. Stolas finally managed to push himself to his feet, and the action made Blitzo take several steps back.

 

“Blitzo, please; I’d never hurt you,” Stolas placated. He put his hands up in a gesture of peace.

 

“It’s too late for that,” the imp said softly.

 

Stolas faltered, unsure of where to begin.

 

“I’d never on purpose, at least; please, just listen to what I have to say—”

 

Blitzo growled suddenly, his tail lashing. “Shut up! I can’t—I-I can’t fucking hear you out. You’ve fucked me mentally enough. The deal is off—”

 

“—Blitzo! —”

 

“—I’ll have the book sent over—”

 

“—about your business! —”

 

“—WE’RE DONE!” Blitzo’s voice echoed across the garden. He slashed a hand through the air in a finalizing movement. Stolas immediately stopped talking; he was stunned. He wanted to pin Blitzo down and scream how everything he’d just said was wrong—

 

“Goodbye, Stolas.”

 

Blitzo turned and walked away. Stolas stared after him, the imp’s red figure blurring into the surrounding garden as tears built up in his eyes. It was as if someone had stolen his voice away; stolen his ability to move his body for the entire length of time it took for Blitzo to disappear. He should have run and yelled after him, told his little lover that he was a fool and there was no truth to what he’d claimed.

 

But he hadn’t. Instead of attempting to fix their tattered relationship, Stolas had stood there, numb, like a mute child, and allowed Blitzo to walk away. Was it perhaps because he didn’t know what to say? How did he justify any of his actions? Did he really even understand how much anguish he’d unintentionally put Blitzo through? He’d mentioned something about the deal—

 

Was this all my fault?

 

Stolas fell to his knees and cried.

 

---

 

Loona was half asleep on the couch when she heard the telltale jingle of Blitzo’s keys at the door. She jumped to her paws, fully awake in an instant.

 

“God dammit, Blitzo, why haven’t you been answering your phone?!” she yelled as she threw the door wide open before he could unlock it. She stopped immediately upon seeing him.

 

“Blitzo?”

 

The bedraggled imp simply stood there. Under his eyes were dark circles, his clothes were dirty and torn, and his eyeliner was smeared down his cheeks. He looked like absolute shit.

 

“What happened to you? You look like you got run over,” Loona said. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day!”

 

Blitzo simply shrugged, swaying on his booted feet. He passed underneath her arm and stumbled into the entryway. Loona watched him, uncharacteristically hesitant. She closed the door and followed him.

 

“Seriously, Blitzo, what happened? Are . . . are you okay?” she asked.

 

Blitzo stuttered to a halt in the kitchen. He wobbled, and Loona put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Where have you been? Is there someone’s ass I need to kick?”

 

Blitzo shook his head. Loona’s frown deepened, and her hackles raised.

 

“Seriously, just say the word; I’ll fuck them up. But for now, at least, just talk to me? You disappear for a full day and then come back looking like you just spent all night at a dive bar as the glory hole slut.” There was still no response, not even a smirk at her attempt to make him laugh. The hellhound bent down to make eye contact with Blitzo, her eyes searching his face. “Dad?”

 

The imp’s passive face contorted in anguish, and he choked on a sob. Loona’s ears flattened when she heard the sound. The next thing she knew, his arms were around her neck and he was bawling into her fur.

 

“W-whoa, Blitzo! I . . .” Loona trailed off, unsure of what to say. She’d never seen him in this state. She’d never even seen him actually cry; his tears of happiness and laughter didn’t count. Even when he was sad, he typically just moped about. Slowly, Loona curled her arms around his middle and held him, allowing him to seek comfort from her presence.

Notes:

RIP, our boys have no grasp of emotional intelligence :'(

Chapter 11: Me, my Phobias, and I

Blitzo stopped in his tracks outside his apartment building. He hadn’t even slowed down once after leaving Stolas’ palace, but now that he found himself at his doorstep, he didn’t want to go in.

 

He felt numb. He didn’t know whether to scream or cry or laugh—

 

It didn’t really matter, did it?

 

Stolas had not tried to stop him from absconding, and despite the fact the prince had been crying, Blitzo was sure he wouldn’t be missed. He didn’t want to let himself dwell on it, or he’d be there forever.

 

“Get outta the way, jackoff!”

 

Blitzo was shoved harshly to the side by a tall and beefy demon. The imp found himself on the ground, ass throbbing, looking up at the fucker who’d pushed him. A curled lip was sent his way before the other demon turned and entered the apartment building, letting the door slam behind him.

 

Blitzo sat there for longer than he needed. He let his heart rate return to normal and his wounded pride recover before he clambered to his feet. He glanced up once again at his apartment building, emotions simmering in his gut. A rush of anger ripped through his insides.

 

Blitzo turned in the opposite direction and decided to find the nearest bar. He felt like getting in a fight.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

“And stay out!”

 

Blitzo was unceremoniously thrown onto the dirty street. His ripped coat splayed around his battered body, blood dripped from his chin, and bruises were surely forming along his ribs from the brutal bar brawl he’d just triggered. But to the imp, who was plenty on his way to being absolutely shitfaced, sat up on his elbows and grinned with a bloody mouth at the bouncer and bartender who’d just thrown him into the street. He got another sharp kick to his ribs from the barkeep for the smug look.

 

That one earned a choked gasp. Fuck. The bastard was no doubt wearing steel toes.  

 

Blitzo staggered to his feet. He’d just gotten the shit beat out of him—he’d also beat the shit out of more than enough poor fuckers in the bar himself—but he honestly felt like he hadn’t been this carefree in ages.

 

Well, maybe that was the meth talking. He’d shot up in the bathroom with some whore. She’d gone down on him as he’d cried with relief at the drugs rushing through his veins, the anguish burning from his mind.

 

Fuck, he felt good.

 

Blitzo meandered drunkenly through the city after that, looking for another place to get his rocks off. It was late, so late it was surely getting early, but this was Hell, so no one gave a fuck. He stumbled into the shittiest looking bar he could find and ordered a shot.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Blitzo awoke slowly. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurred. When he managed to roll over onto his back, he was met with the sight of a straggly crow pecking at a piece of rotting flesh beside his head. Once it noticed he was awake, it screeched a hellish noise and took its meal in its toothed beak and flew away.

 

Fucking fuck, Blitzo thought as he pushed himself into a sitting position. There was a dumpster to his right and a puddle of dirty water to his left. He’d passed out in some disgusting alley; probably crashing from his high. He fished his phone out of his pocket—the screen now cracked—and checked the time. He had dozens of notifications from Loona, Millie, and Moxxie.

 

Nothing from Stolas.

 

Why was he disappointed?

 

Blitzo dragged himself to his feet using the dumpster as help. His legs did not want to cooperate. Seeing as how it was well into the next day, he realized it was probably time to head back to his place.

 

His ribs ached as he leaned against the dumpster for support. His head was pounding.

 

Another alert from his phone. Blitzo knew the tone; it was Loona again. He ignored the call.

 

He needed to figure out where he was before he could begin the trek home. He was sure he was probably on the opposite side of the city, at least, if the smell was anything to go on.

 

Blitzo stumbled out into the nearest road, blinking as the Satanic sun really hit his eyes. The ache behind his forehead flared, and he suppressed a hiss of pain.

 

But yes, he was miles from his apartment. Fuck.

 

Blitzo checked his pockets in a search for his wallet. It was a surprise he hadn’t gotten picked over by a passing demon, but apparently, he’d gotten lucky. He opened his billfold and was disappointed—but not shocked—to see he had no money on him. No money meant no taxi meant he was walking.

 

The realization dawned on him that he was supposed to be at work. They had had a hunt today, didn’t they? Well, fuck, he’d missed it, if they’d even went.

 

Another fucking thing I fucked up, the bedraggled imp sighed.

 

Blitzo could just call his team and have them pick him up. They had the van, and they were clearly wondering where he’d vanished to if their messages were any indication. Moxxie would probably have his ass the next day.

 

But by the piece of shit they call a god, Blitzo did not want to see anyone. Seeing someone meant talking, and talking meant he’d have to explain what the fuck happened and why he was bloody and bruised and hungover on a workday.

 

Even thinking the bird’s name made him nauseous.

 

Blitzo began the journey back to his apartment. He didn’t rush it, his boots barely leaving the ground as he dragged himself down the sidewalk. He kept his head lowered and hands in his pockets.

 

Fuck, I thought I could do it.

 

Blitzo’s head throbbed.

 

I thought I could just keep pretending.

 

He dug his claws into his palms.

 

And now it’s over.

 

---

 

Loona watched as Blitzo slept. He’d always been an angry sleeper, but right now, he looked dead. She would have preferred his tossing and turning to this.

 

Loona sighed, rested her chin in her palm, and unlocked her phone. She checked her messages.

 

Fatty: Did he say anything to you?

 

The Better Half: Is he ok?

 

Loona responded to Millie and Moxxie, He didn’t say much. He broke down and then basically passed out right after. Now he’s just sleeping it off.

 

She frowned as she thought about how she’d held the imp tightly as he’d sobbed incoherently into her arms.

 

Fatty: Let us know if you need anything. We could come over.

 

The Better Half: Exactly. I have some homemade hotdish from last night if you’d like that.

 

Loona: It’s fine. I’m sure he’ll want to avoid this after he wakes up anyway.

 

Fatty: I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let him do that.

 

The Better Half: Moxxie is right. This kind of behavior from Blitzo is strange—stranger than normal. Something must’ve happened.

 

Fatty: Has Prince Stolas contacted either you or Blitzo?

 

Loona glanced up from her phone and over to the sleeping imp on the couch. Her eyebrows pressed upwards in sympathy.

 

Loona: Pretty sure he had something to do with this.

 

The Better Half: You don’t mean…?

 

Fatty: You think they broke it off?

 

Loona: Idk. Maybe. I’m just saying I’ve never seen Blitz cry like that. And he’s stupid but not that stupid.

 

The Better Half: And when’s the last time somethin happened to Blitzo that didn’t have Stolas calling to check in?

 

Fatty: Oh, crumbs. You think we lost the book?

 

Loona: Idgaf about the book! This is about Blitz!! If Stolas did anything to him, I’m gonna rip his stupid head off!!! ☠️☠️

 

Loona tossed her phone to the side angrily. She’d been stewing over the fact that that rich asshole might have had something to do with why Blitzo had gone AWOL for twenty-four hours. Maybe they’d had a fight? Or broken up? Well, they weren’t together.

 

Were they?

 

Truly, Loona wasn’t sure. Blitzo was erratic at best, but typically she didn’t mind because she knew she could be just as crazy. That was the nice thing about the imp; they both accepted each other’s weirdness and tolerated it.

 

. . . Mostly.

 

But Blitzo really didn’t share much of his personal feelings, especially about Stolas. Outside of some offhanded remarks or complaining about how suffocating the prince could be, he didn’t mention him much. Loona knew they fucked. A lot. And, admittedly, that was about it.

 

A whimper from the sleeping figure on the couch caught her attention. Loona’s head snapped to the side, and her ears swiveled forward in concern.

 

Blitzo twitched in his sleep, his fingers tightening their hold on the blanket Loona had hastily covered him with. His face contorted in a grimace. A raspy groan tore from his mouth.

 

Loona watched the imp toss and turn for a moment, unsure if she should wake him.

 

“Don’t,” Blitzo whimpered. Loona froze, breathing quiet as she listened for more murmuring.

 

Blitzo’s tail twitched under the blanket as his body shook with tremors. Loona could see beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead.

 

Suddenly, the imp screamed, howling and desperate. Loona jerked back, startled, and nearly fell off the couch as Blitzo’s back arched from it. She dug her claws into the fabric and pulled herself up straighter.

 

“Whoa, Blitzo!” Loona exclaimed. She knew she needed to wake him up. She reached forward and jostled his shoulder. Blitzo continued to writhe and groan, so caught in his nightmare as he was.

 

Loona gave him another good shake, this time with both hands on his shoulders. Standing over him, she saw when his eyes snapped open.

 

Blitzo slammed into a sitting position, nearly head butting his adoptive daughter in the process. The remnants of a cry of a name died on his lips as he saw where he was and who was in front of him. Twin tears slid down his cheeks as his chest heaved.

 

“Blitzo? Are you . . . well, that’s a stupid question,” Loona said softly. She kneeled on the floor next to the couch and set a hand on his back.

 

“L-Loonie? Sorry, I didn’t . . .” Blitzo trailed off. He realized his face was wet and quickly turned his head away, embarrassed, to wipe the tears with the back of a dirty hand.

 

“It’s okay. You’re good.”

 

Blitzo sighed, “No.” His voice was ragged. Loona tilted her head at him inquisitively. He caught the look and shrugged. “I’m not good right now.” He curled up, tucking his knees under his chin and hugging his legs.

 

“Right, yeah. I can see that.” Loona sat down on the couch beside him, and they sat there for a long moment in silence. “Did you . . . wanna talk about it?”

 

“Which part? The one where I disappeared or the one I just woke up from?”

 

“I mean. Both, preferably.” Loona shrugged. “Like, you missed work and didn’t even say anything. I thought you got fucking kidnapped again or some shit.”

 

Blitzo made a soft sound of acknowledgment. There was misery written across his face.

 

Loona refrained from sighing and rolling her eyes; she wasn’t good at this kinda shit. But she could tell the imp needed something besides her usual attitude.  

 

“Look, Blitzo, I’m really shitty at this emotional stuff. But something obviously happened to make you act like this, and I . . . am worried about you, ya know,” Loona said. She felt herself flushing. “Cuz you are, like, my family. And family looks out for each other, yeah?”

 

Blitzo blinked wide eyes at her, and Loona almost regretted saying anything at all and nearly bolted right there, but when the next words out of his mouth were, “Thanks, Loonie,” some of the tension in her muscles eased.

 

“It’s just. I don’t know,” Blitzo continued, his scratchy voice just above a whisper. “Had a bad night.” He glanced away.

 

“That much is obvious. Tell me more?”

 

Blitzo didn’t respond immediately. He dug his claws into his legs, arms tightening their hold. His eyes watered.

 

“It’s . . . Stolas,” the imp finally managed to croak out, “we broke it off.”

 

Loona’s frown deepened. This was what she’d been worried about.

 

“‘Broke it off,’” she repeated back. “Like broke up?”

 

“We were never dating,” he mumbled morosely.

 

“So, you’re just not screwing anymore?”

 

Blitzo tensed, inhaling sharply. Loona’s eyebrows furrowed at the response; he could be incredibly hard to read.

 

“But you’re upset about it, either way,” the hellhound said carefully. That earned a slow nod. “Why?”

 

Blitzo recoiled, looking her up and down. “W-why what?”

 

Loona merely lifted an eyebrow at him.

 

“I-I, I . . . we . . . he and I . . .” Blitzo fumbled, his face red and eyes flicking anywhere but Loona’s face.

 

“It’s okay; you don’t have to tell me everything,” Loona finally said after watching him struggle to form a coherent sentence. “I think I get the gist. And then you went on some sort of self-destructive bender last night?”

 

“Yeah.” Blitzo lowered his head in shame.

 

Loona nodded slowly, getting ready for the next part of her questioning.

 

“And the nightmare?”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Blitzo found himself chained to a wall in a dark, musty dungeon. It was cold and reeked of iron. The cuff around his ankle was tight, not allowing for even a sliver of give.

 

He despised that he recognized this place. He’d spent three days in this shit-hole months before, terrified that he’d end up with a bullet between his eyes or a fate much worse.

 

He had no weapons. Those had been stripped from him at some point when he’d been unconscious. The only thing he had managed to keep was his backup backup phone he kept strapped to his inner thigh, nearly touching his groin. It had taken days to get a signal the first time.

 

This time, however, when he woke up in this dark and troubling place, he had nothing. He was wearing his pants, and that was it.

 

“Somebody? Anybody?” Blitzo called. His voice reverberated with the puddle in the corner, but the rest of the sound was eaten by the darkness.

 

“Hello?” he yelled again.

 

A shadow moved in the farthest corner. Yellow scleras suddenly appeared in the dark, glowing as they stared at him intensely. Blitzo felt a shudder of fear run down his spine, and his back spikes rose in response to the threat.

 

The eyes morphed into a figure, yellow joining with pink to become awfully familiar just as the tall and curvy succubus stepped from the shadows.

 

“Blitzo,” Verosika spat, pronouncing the ‘o’ as usual. She put her hands on her hips and approached the chained imp, her hips swaying.

 

“Verosika? What the fuck? Let me go!” Blitzo snarled.

 

“Oh, I should let you go? Weren’t you the asshole who left?”

 

“Wha-?”

 

“Really, Blitzo? You act so snide, yet you’re the only common denominator in every relationship you manage to fuck up.”

 

“I guess I have a thing for fucking whores.” Blitzo curled his lip at her.

 

“Ooh, just like Stolas? A whore? The guy who you pay in dick every month just to keep that book?” Verosika grinned, all glinting fangs, her eyes piercing.

 

“How do you-?”

 

The succubus scoffed before flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Maybe you should look in the mirror before you go around calling everyone else a whore, you little fuck. That drugged up hooker you let suck you off last night wasn’t the one who started it.”

 

Blitzo’s head was spinning.

 

“You like being used, don’t you?” Verosika asked as she bent down, just out of Blitzo’s reach. “You like when others take what they want. You want to be used.” She let her large breasts bob in his vision without a semblance of shame.  “But you also like using. You always start it, Blitzo.”

 

“I . . .” was all the imp could get out. He was lost for words, hypnotized by her swaying cleavage and poisonous vitriol.

 

“You used your family.” Verosika suddenly whipped out a leg and drove her sharp heel into Blitzo’s bare chest, knocking him onto his back. She stepped on his ribs.

 

There were suddenly chains around Blitzo’s wrists, shackling him to the grimy floor and leaving him unable to fight back.

 

“You used me.” The heel of her knee-length boot dug into his flesh. “You use your so-called ‘friends.” She pressed harder and drew blood and a hiss of pain from the shackled imp.

 

“And you used that poor prince.” Verosika’s heel crunched into bone as the pressure snapped. Blitzo groaned and cried out, his teeth grinding together.

 

“And now,” she continued, “you have no one. Everything you touch, you ruin, sweetheart. How does it feel?”

 

“I don’t know,” Blitzo choked. He was pressing himself into the floor in a futile attempt to escape the heel carving into his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, no longer wanting to look into Verosika’s cold glare.

 

The pain in his ribs ceased. Blitzo twitched, surprised by the sudden relief, and cracked an eye open. No longer was there a vengeful succubus leering over him, but four red eyes and a more welcoming figure.

 

“Blitzy, are you okay?” Stolas asked.

 

“Stolas?” the imp breathed as he began calming down.

 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

 

Blitzo could have cried. He pushed himself up on his elbows and gazed with wide eyes at the owl crouched in front of him.

 

“How did you find me?” Blitzo asked.

 

“Whatever do you mean?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Stolas stood, his legs seeming to be twice as long as Blitzo remembered. The prince towered over him so far that Blitzo couldn’t see his face, only his glowing red eyes from the depths of the shadows. A feeling of dread crept back into his mind and made his skin crawl.

 

“You brought us here,” Stolas said. There was no longer the kind and lilting voice he once had, the words reminiscent instead of wind howling through dead tree branches. One spindly arm pointed its accusatory talon at Blitzo.

 

“W-what?” the imp stammered. He was cowering again.

 

“You are such a selfish little beast, aren’t you? Disgusting.” The world around them began to blur into pitch.

 

“I-I’m not! Please! Don’t do this!” Blitzo couldn’t help the pleading as he frantically scooted away from the prince. He hit the wall and could go no further.

 

Only the prison floor beneath the two demons remained. The rest was a giant black hole of nothingness.

 

“I’m done with you, Blitzo,” Stolas said in that frightening tone.

 

“I’m sorry,” Blitzo whimpered. “I-I thought I did what you wanted!”

 

“You did nothing, you unlovable vermin.”

 

The blackness crept nearer.

 

“Don’t!” Blitzo sobbed. He trembled under the power of the darkness. Stolas’ eyes flashed, and then the floor beneath Blitzo was gone. He screamed as he plummeted into the vast nothingness. He could see the light of Stolas’ eyes as he watched the imp descend.

 

Soon, there was nothing.

Chapter 12: Destruction

Octavia stood outside her dad’s room, one hand poised to knock. She’d expected to see him at lunch but had seen only her mother as she hurried out the door. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to say anything to her.

 

Shaking the thought away, Octavia knocked on the door and called, “Hey, Dad! Would you mind if I went out with a group of friends today?” She listened carefully for a response.

 

Waiting. Waiting, Octavia thought.

 

. . .

 

Still waiting.

 

Is he in the shower or something?

 

“Dad?” the princess repeated. Once again, there was no response, so she took it upon herself to timidly peek into his room. She could, of course, have just come in, but she was exceedingly wary about walking in on something she’d never be able to scrub from her eyes and brain.

 

The bedroom was unlit, the curtains drawn, and she noted immediately that there was no sound of running water. The bathroom light wasn’t on either.

 

“Uh, Dad? You in here? Tamor told me you were,” Octavia said. She stepped fully into the bedroom, her eyes glowing in the dark. While she had excellent night vision, she still preferred to not walk around in the dark, so she flicked the light on.

 

The room was a disaster; items were thrown off shelves and furniture was knocked over. It looked as if a tornado had blown through. Octavia took note of the chaos and also the feathers strewn all over the floor. She knew that they lost feathers quite frequently, especially if stressed, but she’d never seen so many laying about. Unnerved, the young demon picked her way across the torn apart chamber to the balcony. She pulled the curtains apart and came across who she was searching for. She swung the glass doors open and frowned.

 

“Um. Dad?”

 

Stolas, who was sitting on the floor, jumped, startled by the daughter he hadn’t heard coming. He swiveled, his hands at his head as he swiftly attempted to smooth down the ruffled feathers there. His eyes were wide, and there were obvious tear stains running down his pale face.

 

“Octavia! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” Stolas said. His voice was higher pitched and sounded almost frantic as he fought to compose himself. He stood quickly but faltered as his balance threatened to give. A thin hand snapped out to steady himself on the balcony railing. His robe had worked its way down his back, the shoulders hanging off his thin frame.

 

“Uh, that’s okay,” Octavia said slowly. Her pink eyes were narrowed as she inspected the demon before her. “Are you . . . good?”

 

“H-huh? Oh, yes, I’m, I’m fine!” Stolas waved a hand in a gesture meant to take the attention off him. “Did you need something, my owlet?”

 

Octavia didn’t respond. She simply looked her dad over skeptically. Stolas stood there nervously, his talons tapping a rhythm on the railing.

 

“Do you think I’m stupid or something?” Octavia finally asked. Stolas floundered at the question, his jaw working as he fumbled for a response.

 

“O-of course not! I’d never! I’m just, well—”

 

“Then tell me the truth? Because despite the fact I asked, I can see you’re not ‘good’ right now. I did, you know, walk through your destroyed room to get here.” Octavia crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

 

Stolas deflated visibly, his shoulders sagging and head drooping. His whole body seemed to lose what little shine it did have; even his feathers appeared to lose their airiness and became heavy on his person.

 

“I’m sorry. I’ve had a rough night,” Stolas admitted.

 

“I didn’t hear any screaming last night,” Octavia said.

 

“. . . It didn’t concern your mother.” Stolas avoided eye contact and folded his arms across his chest, grabbing his biceps to hug himself.

 

Octavia sighed softly; she knew exactly who could have achieved this reaction.

 

Blitzo wasn’t exactly her favorite demon in Hell. There was no way he could possibly even be in her top ten, but . . . she’d noticed how happy her dad had been the past few months. Stolas had always been much more charming and energetic than her mother (more loving, too), but there’d been something wrong. Not explicitly, per se, but it was obvious whenever he met someone new. And with Blitzo, it hadn’t been just a few weeks-long tryst of Stolas sneaking someone in. This had evolved into months, and no other consort had ever made it even close to that amount of time. She’d never known her father to invite one along with family or let said lover sneak around the palace as they wished. He’d never been so actively engaged in an affair.

 

There was—however much Octavia wished there wasn’t—something more intimate and special about her dad and Blitzo’s relationship. And damnit, she knew he did his best to make her happy, and she, too, wished for his happiness. Even if that meant allowing someone in that she didn’t personally like. Well, she didn’t hate Blitzo, but a part of her was bitter at him for his role—albeit unintentional—in her parents’ marriage unraveling.

 

“Did something happen with Blitzo?” Octavia asked, voice gentler this time around.

 

Stolas nodded, his eyes rapidly filling with tears. He brought a hand to his face in order to try and hide his distress from his child. He didn’t want her to see him so distraught over someone that wasn’t her mother. The whole situation, he knew, was unfair to his poor Octavia, who only wanted her parents to love each other.

 

“I-I’m sorry, Via, you sh-shouldn’t have to see me like this—” Stolas cut himself off and drew an arm across his face to wipe the tears away. He fought with himself to get his emotions under control. When he finally managed to halt the flow of tears and compose himself, he sniffed and straightened up. “You shouldn’t have to worry about me. Please, dear, you needed something, yes? Ask away.”

 

Octavia hesitated. It felt wrong it ask for something when her dad was so upset. As the child, it wasn’t her job to take care of him, she knew. But what kid didn’t want their parents to be happy?

 

“Octavia? Do not worry your little head about me; it’s not your job,” Stolas said as if reading her mind. His voice was frail with emotion, but he was no longer crying.

 

“I . . . was wondering if I could hang out with some friends today,” she finally admitted. “But—”

 

“Of course! Of course, you may. Please, go have fun. Don’t worry about your old man; I’ll be fine. Do you need money? I’ll get you some.” Stolas tugged his robe over his shoulders, regaining somewhat of a sense of modesty, and hurried back inside. Octavia followed him slowly, the gears in her head turning. She watched him navigate the mess in his room and return to her with several folded bills in his hand.

 

“Here you are, my dear,” Stolas said. He handed them to her. “Have fun. And remember to call me if you need anything.” He smiled at her, but it was obviously strained.

 

“Uh, thanks, Dad. I’ll . . . see you later, then. Bye,” Octavia said. She hesitated at the door to his bedroom, looking at him from the corner of her eye. Stolas gave her a tiny wave. Finally, she left with an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Stolas collapsed onto his bed the second Octavia was out the door. God, it was so humiliating to have had her find him like that.

 

She deals with enough of the fighting, and now she must deal with me crying over Blitzo? Dammit! This is just pathetic, Stolas thought. He put his head in his hands and sighed, on the verge of tears again. He didn’t want to think about Blitzo because it hurt, but that was all his mind kept going to.

 

Last night, after Blitzo had left, Stolas had cried in the garden for at least an hour. If it sounded pitiful, who fucking cared? No one was there to see him besides the plants around him and the stars above. He’d curled up on the blanket that was still warm from Blitzo’s body heat and wept into his arms.

 

He’d mentally berated himself the entire time. He’d thought of every single thing he ever could have done or did do wrong in their relationship and hated himself for them. He had not been kind to his heart last night because he did not deserve it. For how could it have been Blitzo’s fault? The imp was not perfect, of course, but neither was Stolas, and what the prince did have was more sway in their relations.

 

Fuck, he’d ruined his one chance at love. Everything seemed hopeless now. Did he seem like an angst-ridden teenager sobbing over a short term boyfriend? Yes, maybe, but was that not what he was?

 

Stolas had spent his entire life so far without romance or intimate love. He had the illusion of a loving wife, but that was it. Their marriage was a sham, a farce, little more than a power grab by their parents. That was how it worked with Hell’s royalty. Most of it, anyway.

 

For most his adulthood, married and not, he’d spent hours thinking of all the things he’d do with a partner. He thought his love life would be like that of Lucifer and Lilith’s: mutual respect and care; a deep emotional relationship that helped foster a family.

 

Well, he had the family part. That was very expected, an heir. And Stolas loved her more than anything. But he wished he could have someone to share a romantic lifetime with that was not just an uptight classist. Stella was . . . difficult, to say the least, and though he cared about her well-being, he did not love her. He had never; she had never loved him, either. He’d tried, when they first met, when he was young and naïve, to flower a love between them. It had failed. Stella had clearly been more interested in various other misters from the get-go.

 

More manly, masculine misters. Ones that did not frolic about in a robe and want to wear lacy underwear for their partners.

 

Misters who did not want to get pinned to the bed and fucked until they couldn’t walk.

 

And Stolas’ general apathy for caring about Hell’s classes when taking a consort was frowned upon. Stella thought imps were dirt beneath their feet. Stolas obviously thought different. Whomever struck his fancy was typically taken to bed, whether it be an imp or an Overlord.

 

Overlords, however, tended to be extremely poor partners for anything besides the bedroom (he knew that from experience).  

 

So, truly, did he have any idea what it was like to love someone? He’d thought, just maybe, he could do it. Evidently, that was false, and he’d made perhaps every faux pas one could while dating. He really was like an inexperienced teenager fawning over a crush. And it had gotten him crushed in return.

 

After his solo in the garden, he’d eventually made his slow and weary way back to his room. He was glad that it was just his room these days. Despite the fact he was lonely, he did not want to walk into a place where he would be shamed by his wife.

 

The overwhelming amount of negative emotions and self-loathing Stolas had been feeling had led to him acting out. While he’d stood in the center of his room, mind loud with maddening thoughts, he’d screamed in anguish. His magic, typically under control, had lashed out and sent a shockwave of energy around the room. That was why he was currently occupying what seemed like a war zone.

 

How do I fix this? Stolas asked internally. Is it even possible? For all I know, I’ve ruined it for good.

 

Stolas’ eyes blurred as he came once more across the realization that he might never see Blitzo again. Well, in the way that he wanted, anyway. If they did see each other, it would most likely be strictly business.

 

Stolas didn’t think he could handle not having a romantic relationship with Blitzo after everything.

 

Dejected, the prince willed the lights off and pulled himself fully into his bed. He hadn’t slept yet, having been so stricken last night. Now, he simply wanted the respite that came from unconsciousness. Stolas drew the covers over his head and wished to disappear.

 

---

 

“Have you seen my dad up?”

 

The well-dressed imp stopped in his tracks at the sound of the princess’ voice. He turned on his heel to look at her, dipped his head, and responded, “No, Your Highness. His Majesty has not been out of his room in two days.”

 

“Do you know if he’s well?”

 

“His Majesty seems to be distraught about something.”

 

“No, I mean, is he eating and, like, bathing and stuff?”

 

“He has had no meals requested since the night before he sequestered himself. Likewise, no cleaning staff have been into his room. But I cannot say I have seen the appearance of His Majesty to tell you if he is grooming.”

 

Octavia withered at the news and sighed. “Alright. Thanks, Tamor.” She tossed him a packet of candy she’d taken from her pocket. Tamor caught the snack eagerly and bowed at the waist, giving her a smile.

 

“Thank you, Your Highness.” With that, he turned and scurried down the hall.

 

Octavia continued on her way to her room. She’d given her dad space, knowing she could do little to help him with whatever it was that had happened between him and Blitzo. She wasn’t great at talking to her dad all the time, she could admit.

 

But she had to do something. She couldn’t just allow him to wither away in his chambers! Yes, he was a grown demon, but it was obvious from the last time they’d spoken about emotions that he had just as little a clue as she did.

 

What a hot mess their family was.

 

Octavia pulled out her phone as she sat down at her desk, back in her room. Swiping through messages, she found the conversation she was searching for and sent a sharp:

 

What did your stupid dad do to mine?!

 

---

 

 “I thought Loona told you to take a backseat today, Sir,” Moxxie said with a slight growl to his voice. They were crouched behind a copse of lilac bushes that lined the outside of the trailer park they were about to infiltrate.

 

“Loona worries too much; I told you guys I’m fucking fine,” Blitzo insisted.

 

Moxxie narrowed his eyes at his boss. When he’d heard from their resident hellhound that Blitzo fully intended to return to work the day after he’d gotten himself completely fucked up and incapacitated, the smaller imp had nearly had a panic attack. He and Millie had waited at the door to I.M.P and jumped their boss as soon as he walked through the door.

 

Despite Millie and Moxxie’s hounding, Blitzo had told them close to nothing. Loona had told them a handful of information, but she’d left out quite a few details of what had happened; whether because of respect for Blitzo’s privacy or her own ignorance. To put it mildly, it drove Moxxie up the wall, but he couldn’t force his boss to do anything.

 

Blitzo insisted they pick up where they’d left off and go on the hunt they’d missed yesterday. Because none of them were about to change Blitzo’s mind, Loona had instead asked him to take it easy. He was still battered and bruised from his bar brawling. Why he insisted upon a job in his condition, Moxxie didn’t understand. But it was obvious from even an outside perspective that Blitzo was unwell, both physically and mentally, and was not going to practice any form of self preservation.

 

“She was quite certain you’d broken a rib, and it’s not wise to go gallivanting about w—”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Moxxie! I’m going,” Blitzo snapped before he bolted from their hiding spot.  

 

 Moxxie swore, “Shit!” and took off running after his boss, Millie on his heels. “Sir, please stick to the plan-!”

 

Breathing hard, the three imps finally came to a stop a trailer down from the one they were after and hid behind a shed.

 

“Don’t just take off like that, Sir. We need to scope out the place first,” Moxxie said.

 

“Yeah, remember the client said this guy is some paranoid wackadoo,” Millie added. “He knows there are people after him for revenge.”

 

“Which means he might have traps or guns, and we need to carefully—”

 

Blitzo was gone before Moxxie could finish.

 

Millie wasted no time and grabbed her husband by the hand. She tugged him along and together they raced again after their boss. Blitzo was a few feet ahead of them, heading toward the front door of the trailer.

 

A huge mistake. They never went through main entrances; what the fuck was Blitzo doing?!  

 

The tall imp didn’t even get to the door when he suddenly jerked forward. A scream of pain rebounded across the overgrown yard, scaring a murder of crows in a nearby tree.

 

“Oh, crumbs!”

 

Millie and Moxxie were quick to duck for cover when the trailer home’s door was flung open, slamming against the outside wall with a loud bang. The front yard was flooded with light from the inside. A tall, scraggly looking man stood in the doorway, a tinfoil hat on his head and a shotgun in his hands.

 

“Fucking knew they were after me!” the man shouted. He sounded and looked absolutely manic as he pointed the barrel of his shotgun right where Blitzo lay prone with a steel bear trap biting gruesomely onto one of his legs. A look of fear lanced across the vulnerable imp’s face; his gun had went flying out of his hands with the shock of his leg being chomped on.

 

“Fucking aliens! Government ‘bout to lose one!” the deranged man continued. “Sendin’ you back to Area 51, bitch!”

 

Moxxie wasn’t about to let this motherfucker shoot his boss. He whipped out his sniper rifle from where it was strapped to his back and took aim.

 

Blitzo flinched as Moxxie’s gun went off but sagged in relief when he realized he wasn’t the one with a bullet through his skull.

 

“Sir! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” Moxxie screeched. He and Millie scrambled from their hiding place, concern etched across their faces despite the anger he was now feeling. The couple approached the downed Blitzo, Millie reaching for the bear trap’s jaws to rip it open.

 

“I-I’m fine, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Blitzo replied with a shaky voice. His eyes were wide, and he seemed pale. Millie broke the trap in two, and Moxxie grabbed Blitzo under his armpits and dragged him away from the busted snare. He laid him down on his side and moved to inspect the wound while Millie stepped away to call Loona.

 

“With all due respect, Sir, shut up,” Moxxie ordered. Strangely enough, Blitzo did just that as his employee tugged his boot off and tore his pants open with his claws. On the outside, Moxxie was calm and collected, but internally, he was quaking with anger. He knew it’d been a shit idea to come on this hunt after everything, but he hadn’t had much say in the matter.

 

The wound on Blitzo’s calf was jagged and deep, each passing second sending more pitch blood dripping onto the yellowing grass. Where each metal fang had grabbed ahold was visible. It had really done a number on him.

 

“Millie, is Loona ready for us?” Moxxie asked as he tied a torn shred of Blitzo’s pants around the wound as a makeshift bandage. The motion earned a quiet gasp of pain (that was easily ignored by the still pissed imp).

 

“Yup. Any second now,” Millie responded. As if on cue, a portal opened near them. Moxxie turned his attention back to Blitzo.

 

“Can you stand, Sir?”

 

Blitzo nodded shakily, still not talking. He was visibly trembling as Moxxie helped him stand with an arm wrapped around his torso. Millie moved to assist on Blitzo’s other side, and then the three hobbled to the portal.

 

Upon entering, Loona was a furry ball of anger and concern. Her hair was standing on end, her ears pricked and alert.

 

“What the fuck, Blitzo?!” the hellhound raged. Millie and Moxxie deposited their boss in a nearby chair. “Fuck, I knew letting you go was a bad idea!” She scrubbed her hands across her face in frustration.

 

“I’m fine, Loonie, really,” Blitzo said. His voice was hoarse and edged with pain.  

 

“You’re fucking not! Ugh!” Loona stormed off, apparently too upset to handle the situation any longer.

 

Millie and Moxxie glanced at each other.

 

“Hospital, then?” the latter suggested. Millie nodded and flashed the van keys.

 

“I’ll pull around. You got him, Honey?” she asked.

 

“Yeah, I’ve got it. We’ll meet you downstairs.”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Loona had thrown herself onto the nearest bench as soon as she’d left the building. Well, not before pushing some loser into oncoming traffic.

 

She was furious; why was Blitzo doing this shit?! In three days, he’d managed to get himself fucked up more than once. After she’d gotten that call from Millie, she’d seen red. That dumb little fucker was on some sort of suicide mission!

 

Over some guy!  

 

. . . What about me? The thought came unbidden into her head. She quickly shook it away, snarling at thin air, and instead focused on her phone. Her tail lashed behind her, still fluffed up. Anybody passing on the sidewalk gave her a wide berth.

 

Loona was about to watch some random viral video to take her mind off things when a text alert popped up at the top of her screen. Immediately, her rage boiled over. She swiped into her contacts and hit ‘call.’

 

“Uh, hello?”

 

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY MY DAD ‘DID SOMETHING WRONG’?!”

Chapter 13: Outsiders

Summary:

The team discovers these heart broken fools need serious help.

Notes:

Hit a bit of a wall with this chapter, but it's finally here.

And how about that new episode, huh??? I am s I M P I N G

“What?!”

 

“You fucking heard me!”

 

“You’re full of shit! My dad’s been locked in his room for two days now!”

 

“Well, mine is throwing his fucking life away because of yours!”

 

“That’s—whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, what?”

 

Loona stopped screaming into the phone as Octavia suddenly paused.

 

Her fur still standing on end, Loona snapped, “What?!”

 

“Our stupid dads,” Octavia said, and then she laughed.

 

“What’s so god damn funny?!”

 

“Don’t you see, Loona? Both our dads are acting out because they’re hurt that they fought.”

 

“Okay, and? Blitzo said he and Stolas broke up.”

 

“Yes, I had figured as much. I didn’t talk to my dad much about it, admittedly. As I mentioned, he’s been locked away.

 

“But that’s not the point. The point is that they’re both upset,” Octavia continued.

 

“So . . . you’re saying that because they’re both dipshits, they’re showing their true feelings?” Loona asked slowly, the gears in her head turning. Her hackles lowered as she caught up to what Octavia was saying.

 

“Exactly. So, I’m thinking that they obviously would like to be together.”

 

“But neither of them knows it because they both think the other isn’t mad it’s over?”

 

“That’s what I’m guessing.”

 

“. . . Except I don’t expect Blitzo to tell anyone that. When I asked why he was so upset about it, he just got all flustered.”

 

“I doubt my dad would come forward either. He seems too distraught to take any action.”

 

Loona sighed, “You’d think they’d know already, with all the shit they’ve done together.”

 

“Well, I think it’s because very few beings in Hell have any concept of emotional intelligence,” Octavia said with a laugh. “But considering this, I think we need to give them a push in the right direction.”

 

“We suggest they talk?”

 

“I doubt it’ll be that simple.”

 

“Agreed. Blitzo is a stubborn bastard. He really proved that today.” Loona snorted. “Stupid fuck.”

 

“Hmm. I’m assuming that they both think that neither of them wants to talk it over.”

 

Loona felt her phone vibrate against her cheek, and she glanced at the notification that popped up.

 

Fatty: We’re at the hospital. See you soon?

 

“Listen, Tavi, I’ve gotta go meet the others at the hospital right now, but let’s hang out later and do some plotting, ‘kay?” Loona asked.

 

“Alright, sounds good. Let me know what’s up,” Octavia replied. “And Loona . . . sorry about this whole thing.”

 

“Huh? It’s not your fault?”

 

“I know, I just . . . my dad. I dunno.” There was a long pause.

 

“. . . We’ll talk later, okay? I gotta make sure Blitzo is okay.”

 

“Right, yeah. See ya.”

 

---

 

Blitzo could feel Millie and Moxxie’s piercing eyes on him. He refused to look over; he didn’t want to see the disappointment in their faces.

 

His left foot up to his knee was wrapped in thick bandages. The pain meds the doctor had given him were working their magic, and Blitzo was thankful; that trap had hurt like a bitch.

 

“Sir, we’re not going to just pretend this didn’t happen,” came Moxxie’s voice.

 

Suppose I couldn’t ignore it forever, Blitzo sighed. He finally glanced over at the imp couple. They were sitting in the chairs next to the bed, mirroring each other’s positions. They both had a leg crossed over the over, arms folded.

 

“I didn’t mean to get hurt,” Blitzo said. He stared down at his hands in his lap.

 

“That’s not the issue, Sir. You’d agreed to limit your role in the field after the past few days, and you completely disregarded that! You didn’t follow the plan at all, and despite the fact we told you to wait, you still ran ahead and got injured!” Moxxie exclaimed. “It was a complete lack of self-control!”

 

“Not to mention a total lack of self preservation,” Millie added.

 

“I know, I know, but—”

 

Moxxie didn’t let Blitzo finish. “Not buts, Sir! If either of us did that, you’d have our heads. Just because you did it does not make it okay.”

 

Blitzo didn’t know what to say. He felt so overwhelmed, what with his emotional fragility and now his multiple injuries. He fought to stay calm and not lash out at his employees despite their chastising.

 

It was then that Loona appeared in the doorway to his room. Her eyes lit up upon seeing her parent awake and seemingly fine.

 

“Blitzo! How are you feeling?” Loona asked as she padded in and then crouched at his bedside.

 

“I’m okay,” Blitzo replied quietly. “Nothing broken.”

 

“That’s a lie; X-rays showed he did, in fact, have a fractured rib from the other night,” Moxxie chimed in, still sounding less than impressed.

 

“R-right, but I meant from the hunt.” Blitzo swallowed nervously. He shied away from Loona’s intense red eyes.

 

“Why weren’t you careful like I asked?” the hellhound questioned.

 

“I . . . I was . . .” Blitzo found himself unable to formulate a response. The three pairs of eyes on him were so much to deal with. He wasn’t sure he was mentally okay enough to handle the conversation. He already felt shitty.

 

“B, please just tell us what’s wrong. We may be upset, but it’s only cuz we care about you,” Millie said. She had reached forward and set a gentle hand on Blitzo’s arm while he’d been lost in his thoughts. The touch grounded him, and as he looked up at the assembled demons with wide eyes, he found nothing but concern in their collective gaze.

 

“It’s . . .” Blitzo sighed and forced out the truth. “I just wanted to be included in our last hunt. In the human world.”

 

“What?!” came the collective shout. God, Blitzo felt like such an asshole. He could see even Loona was shocked; he hadn’t told her about that part.

 

“Sir, you’re telling me we’re done?” Moxxie asked, clearly distraught.

 

“With the humans, at least, Mox. I have . . . I have to return the book to Stolas,” Blitzo admitted softly, his voice breaking at the mention of the prince’s name.

 

“So, you guys broke up officially? We weren’t sure or not; Loona only told us a few things,” Millie said. Her tone was curious but gentle, as if consoling a child.

 

Blitzo felt his face warm; his eyes blurred with unshed tears as he stared down at his lap.

 

“Oh, Honey, it’s okay.” Millie stroked one of his horns in a soothing motion.

 

“W-we weren’t d-dating,” Blitzo mumbled even as he began crying because fuck, everything hurt and he’d nearly fucked the mission and his friends were mad at him and—

 

“It’ll be okay, Sir. We’re here for you, you know that,” Moxxie said. He seemed more frazzled at the concept of consoling his now actively crying superior, but the fact that the smaller imp was now also standing at his bedside meant he was trying.

 

“I’m sorry—” Blitzo choked on his words and hiccuped.

 

“It’s alright, B,” Millie assured softly. “Breakups are hard for everyone.”

 

Blitzo inhaled raggedly as he attempted to speak, to let them know he was fine, but even when he finally got words past the lump in his throat, all he managed was, “I-I thought he w-wanted me.”

 

Loona, now on the opposite side of Blitzo’s bed, put a hand on his. All three of who he considered his family were gathered around him in a display of consolation, and despite the fact his heart was broken, he felt like someone cared about him.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

While the nurse prepped Blitzo with anything he’d need to recover before they checked him out of the hospital, the three I.M.P employees stepped out of the room to take a breather. Loona prepared herself for a barrage of questions, and it only took a few hurried paces down the white hallway for Moxxie to start.

 

“Loona, you didn’t tell us things were this bad!” the imp said.

 

“Because I didn’t know, genius,” Loona hissed back, keeping her voice down because she knew if she yelled, the whole floor would hear her, and she really didn’t want Blitzo knowing they were discussing him. “All he told me was that he and Stolas broke it off. He didn’t even use the term, ‘break up.’ I wasn’t even sure if they were together or not.”

 

“We knew this was a possibility when Blitzo made that deal,” Millie said. “But I would have guessed it wouldn’t end like this.”

 

Moxxie tilted his head at his wife. “What do you mean?”

 

The female imp rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “You’re telling me you’ve never caught the way Stolas wears his heart on his sleeve around Blitzo? It doesn’t take a genius to know that man is infatuated with our boss.”

 

“Hmm, I suppose so,” Moxxie replied slowly, a hand on his chin in thought. “But either way, we don’t know enough. Maybe Stolas got over it.”

 

“No, he didn’t,” Loona said quickly. The two imps glanced up at her curiously. She sighed, crossed her arms, and shrugged. “Look, I’ve been talking to Octavia—”

 

“Really?”

 

“What’s she saying?”

 

Loona curled a lip in agitation, and the imps settled down sheepishly.

 

“As I was saying, I’ve been talking to her, and she said that Stolas was upset and locked himself in his room. I don’t know much besides that, but we’re planning on meeting up later to, like, devise a way to get Blitzo and Stolas to work this out.”

 

Millie and Moxxie’s eyes went wide.

 

“So, she thinks Stolas didn’t want to break up?” Moxxie asked.

 

“That’s what she seems to think.”

 

Millie raised an eyebrow and prompted, “And what do you think?”

 

Loona hesitated, feeling put on the spot. She didn’t really like all this intruding on Blitzo’s love life, but . . . she wanted to help.

 

“I . . . I’m inclined to agree with her,” Loona admitted. “Look, I know you guys have never seen Blitzo cry, much less like that. And the other night . . . he was such a mess. Not to even mention the shit he pulled on the hunt.”

 

“If we’re pretty sure Stolas wants to make up, why don’t we just go and tell Blitzo that?” Moxxie asked. “Then they can go work it out themselves.”

 

Loona shook her head. “No! I don’t want to get Blitzo’s hopes up or make him think I’m lying to make him feel better. I want to help, not make things worse.”

 

“Besides, I think it’d be a smart idea for us to talk more to Octavia before we do anything rash. You know, collect intel,” Millie added.

 

“Wait, ‘we’?”

 

The imp couple grinned eagerly up at Loona.

 

“You think we’re gonna stand by and do nothing?” Moxxie asked.

 

“When Blitzo needs us? No way!” Mille agreed.

 

“But I didn’t think you guys really even liked Blitzo,” Loona admitted.

 

“We could say the same about you.”

 

Loona recoiled from that comment, her ears lowering. She sighed softly and said, “I know how I’ve acted about him before, but . . . you know, he’s done a lot for me. We are technically family, and—whatever, d-don’t worry about it.” She flushed under their gazes. “Anyway, this isn’t about that. We’ve gotta do something before Blitzo does something else stupid.”

 

“Right. Well, keep us in the know. But for now, let’s get back to Blitzo,” Moxxie said.

 

---

 

After getting dropped off at their shared apartment, Blitzo had—with Loona’s help—gotten into bed and passed out. She peeked in to make sure he was fine before turning to her phone.

 

Loona: Blitz’s out. Are you available?

 

Princess 👑: Yeah, where we meeting?

 

Loona: There’s a coffee shop a block down the street from me, let’s meet there. It’s called Hot Beans

 

Princess 👑: Okay, sounds good. Cya in twenty?

 

Loona: 👍🏼

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

On the other side of the conversation, Octavia emerged from her room, putting an earbud in. She didn’t bother going to her dad for permission, nor did she even consider the idea of asking her mom. She was positive Stella had left hours ago, and Stolas was still isolating.

 

Octavia had just given the request to Tamor and was about to head into the garage to get in the limo when she nearly ran into her mother walking through the same door.

 

“O-oh, Mom, I didn’t think you were home,” Octavia said as casually as possible despite her racing heart. Stella looked down at her.

 

“I just arrived,” the older demon responded. Her pink eyes narrowed. “Going somewhere?”

 

“Uh, yeah, just out with a friend.”

 

Stella let out a humph and put her hands on her hips. “Did you get permission?”

 

“Yeah, Dad was okay with it.”

 

Fuck don’t question it don’t question it

 

Stella’s frown deepened. “Your father,” she said, saying the word like it was a crime to come from her mouth. “Speaking of that feathered cock holster, where is he? He’s been avoiding his royal duties for days.”

 

“He’s, uh, just in his room. I-I think,” Octavia responded, doing her best to ignore her mom’s condescending tone and words about her other parent.

 

“Right. Well.” Stella paused, glancing around the entryway. “If you’re off, then go. No use milling about.” She stepped around her daughter and continued down the hall.

 

Octavia swore internally, not taking her eyes off her mom even as she turned the corner. There was no way she wasn’t about to go confront Stolas about his latest absences. Hurrying down the hall, Octavia followed Stella covertly, her boots not making a sound on the marble floor. Behind a large potted plant, the princess ducked down and waited.

 

“Stolas!” Stella shouted. She attempted to open the doors to his chambers but found them locked. She pounded her fist against one of them. “Open this door! Why are you hiding away like a little bitch?!”

 

From her spot down the hall, Octavia could not hear the response.

 

“I will not ‘go away!’ Get out here and do your fucking job!” Stella continued yelling. She was seething at the doors, her arms crossed and feathers ruffled.

 

There was a pause, and then a door opened. Octavia refrained from craning her neck into the open to get a better view. She could just barely see her dad’s robe clad figure in the doorway.

 

“You look disgusting,” Stella spat upon seeing him. “Know how to take a bath? Preen? Clean yourself at all?”

 

“Stella, I am not in the mood for this,” Stolas said quietly.

 

“You’re never in the mood for anything—especially your job! I have been doing my share of work, where have you been? Locked away in this rat’s nest? God, the room is a disaster. What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you no dignity? What? No answer?” Stella was still going, her words harsh.

 

“Did you get some sexual disease from that little mongrel you’ve been fucking?”

 

That seemed to trigger something. Stolas growled under his breath, his eyes flashing.

 

“He’s not a mongrel, and I will not have you bad mouthing him,” Stolas seethed.

 

“You’ve lost your bloody mind; it’s an imp! A loathsome creature that scrapes the bottom of the barrel, even in Hell. Each time you fool around with that gross thing, you bring more shame to this family,” Stella ranted.

 

“You will be quiet.” Stolas’ voice was ice cold, his eyes glowing red hot as shadows grew in the corners.

 

Stella was seemingly appalled. “I will not! And I am not about to stand here and let you try and intimidate me with your powers! Stop being such a spoiled brat and attend to your duties.”

 

Stolas made to close the door on her, but Stella reacted quickly and shoved her way in. Octavia could hear her mother screaming, but now that they were in the room, her words were harder to make out. She heard glass breaking; Stella was throwing things again, most likely at her dad. Octavia crept forward from her hiding place.

 

“. . . are a damn disgrace! No true noble acts like this!” Stella was screaming. “No noble goes around canoodling with the rejects of society!”

 

“And who are you to tell me off?!”

 

Octavia recoiled, her eyes widening. She’d never heard her dad yell like that. He typically just let Stella throw a fit and chastise him for whatever, getting in the occasional defense, but he had never raised his voice like this.

 

It was evident from the pause that Stella was just as taken off guard as Octavia.

 

“Excuse me?! Don’t you fucking yell at me!” her mother screeched. The sound of another item breaking was heard.

 

“And why the Hell not? You’re always screaming at me about whatever the fuck you want—I can choose to defend myself!” Stolas raged back.

 

“Well, someone has to tell your stupid ass off for doing foolish things!” Another item was thrown.

 

“I can do whatever I please! I don’t need your permission!”

 

“You are ruining this family’s name while you gallivant about riding cock!”

 

“The only thing I’m ruining is our loveless marriage!”

 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a useless twink!”

 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a classist bitch!”

 

Stella screamed incoherently, obviously furious at the last insult. There was the crashing of more thrown about objects and glass shattering.

 

“Enough!” Stolas roared. In the hallway, Octavia flinched. “I am sick and tired of your abuse. Get out.”

 

“Fucking baby,” Stella snarled. “I haven’t even touched you.”

 

“Leave me alone, Stella.”

 

“So you can get back to being useless?” Her tone was cold.

 

“You have no idea what you’re even talking about. I’m not sorry for having emotions.”

 

“You’ve always been a drama queen. You’re such a desperate whore.” Stella scoffed in disgust.

 

“Better that than a heartless shrew.”

 

“You are absolutely distasteful. I’m glad we’ve had our obligatory heir already because I’d never touch someone that’s had an imp cum inside them.”

 

“Must you keep bringing him into this?” Stolas snarled.

 

“Like you brought it into our lives? So we have to deal with your mistakes?” Stella spat.

 

“He is not a mistake!”

 

“It’s an abomination! No self-respecting demon would ever fraternize with imps, and yet, here we are!”

 

“Stella, I—”

 

“Just how desperate are you for love? Couldn’t you have just taken a normal consort like every other fucking noble down here? Maybe it’s because no one could ever fucking love your obnoxious, air-headed self besides the lowest scum in Hell.”

 

Octavia jumped back as a sudden rushing of wind roared from her dad’s bedroom. She nearly tripped backwards but retained her footing and once again retreated to the end of the hall. Stella was flung through the doors in a burst of blue magic, her face contorted in anger. Her feet skidded on the marble flooring with a shrill shriek as she fought to regain her balance before she hit the wall behind her. As soon as the woman was out, the doors to Stolas’ chambers slammed shut. The outside of the doors shimmered as several circles of warding appeared on the surface, locking everyone out.

 

Stella shouted in disgust, her pink eyes glowering at the closed doors. She straightened herself up and stormed away in a flurry of white feathers.

 

Octavia’s eyes were wide, her mouth nearly falling open. Now that was something she’d never seen before. And she really hoped to never see it again.

 

Hurrying back to the foyer, Octavia whipped out her phone.

 

Octavia: I’ll be a little late,,,my parents just had a huge argument

 

Loona: You good?

 

Octavia: Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just fix this shit.

Chapter 14: Crafted

Summary:

Four little helpers put their plan in motion.

Notes:

Warning: there is a small bit of noncon drug use in this chapter, but it's not for a nefarious purpose.

‘Step one: act casual. It’s another day.’

 

“Loona, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but taking a walk to the park doesn’t really seem like it’s gonna do jackshit.”

 

The hellhound glanced back at Blitzo, who was currently several paces behind on account of his crutches.

 

“C’mon, don’t they say sunshine makes people happy?” Loona asked. “Hurry up, you’re taking forever.”

 

Blitzo shot her a deadpan look. “Gee, I’m only on crutches. And who the fuck says that? Humans? The sun here barely counts as a god damn sun anyhow.”

 

Loona sighed, “I’m trying to be nice here. You like outside.”

 

“I guess. Maybe when I’m not limping around with a fucked leg and a broken rib.” Blitzo huffed but continued following the hellhound. They were approaching the somewhat run-down metal fencing that enclosed the park.

 

“You’re fine. Better than being trapped in your thoughts, isn’t it?”

 

Blitzo went quiet at that. Loona was right; every second of time not spent actively doing something had left him stewing in his own juices. He wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it was hard to not let himself get stuck on his feelings. He was trying his best to avoid the morose thoughts of his now ex.

 

Loona didn’t say anything else either as they walked through the park gate. There was a handful of other imps and their children running about, but there was plenty of space for them as well. Blitzo spotted a wooden bench and made his way over to it.

 

“You brought it, right?” Loona asked, standing in front of the now seated imp.

 

With a small smile, Blitzo put his crutches aside and dug into a pocket on his coat. He pulled out a bright yellow tennis ball with a flick of his wrist and said, “Of course I did.”

 

He caught the way Loona’s tail began wagging and couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

 

“Don’t laugh at me, asshole,” Loona grouched. Her lips curled in a snarl, but the way her tail was still wagging belied her good mood. “Throw the ball!”

 

“Loonie want da ball? You want da ball?” Blitzo asked in his baby talking voice. He shook the ball back and forth, her eyes following it the whole time despite her unamused expression.

 

“Just throw it already!”

 

Blitzo pulled his arm back and catapulted the tennis ball as hard as he could. The yellow object shot across the park, and Loona wasted no time in darting after it. She quickly grew smaller as she gave chase.

 

Blitzo smiled and leaned back on the park bench. He was content to simply wait there for his hellhound to return. It didn’t take long for Loona to come running back, her hair messy and eyes bright. She dropped the now slobbery tennis ball into Blitzo’s extended hand and sat down much like an actual dog.

 

The imp lobbed the toy again, this time in a different direction. Loona took off.

 

Blitzo was about to zone out when he heard a remarkably familiar laugh from somewhere nearby. He sat up, brows furrowed, and glanced around. He didn’t see anyone he recognized, so he got his crutches under his arms and stood to track down the sound. His search was swiftly rewarded when he peeked around a row of bushes into a nice little shaded area.

 

“M and M! Fancy seeing you guys here!” Blitzo shouted. The imp couple glanced up from where they were sat on a picnic blanket, some sort of card game spread between them. They were both dressed in more casual attire.

 

“Oh, hey, B! What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?” Millie asked.

 

“Well, Loona wanted me to get out of the apartment. I suppose I’m not upset about it,” Blitzo replied. “It’s not a bad day outside.”

 

“It’s good that she’s with you. Where is she?”

 

Blitzo jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Back that way. We’re playing fetch.”

 

“Sounds fun. Hey, y’all wanna join us?”

 

Blitzo blinked. “Really?” His eyes flicked to Moxxie. The smaller imp was smiling, no sign of an indignant glance at his wife, his almost ever-present scowl when dealing with Blitzo (especially outside of work) nowhere to be seen.

 

“Yeah. We were actually just about to grab lunch, if you wanted to come along,” Moxxie said.

 

Blitzo nearly pinched himself to be sure he wasn’t dreaming.

 

“W-well yeah, that sounds great! We’ll just have to wait for Loonie—”

 

As if on cue, the hellhound appeared behind him, the tennis ball held in her hand.

 

“You’re not supposed to wander around when playing fetch,” Loona grumbled. She noticed the imp couple and straightened up. Blitzo looked over his shoulder at her.

 

“Wanna get lunch with Millie and Moxxie?”

 

Loona shrugged. “Sure. Why not.”

 

“Cool. I’m starving.”

 

“We ate before we left?”

 

“But our food sucks!”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

‘Step two: isolate target (sorry Blitzo).’

 

Octavia pressed a small plastic baggie into Loona’s outstretched paw.

 

“Pour it all into his drink,” the princess said, closing Loona’s fingers around the item. “It should take effect in less than five minutes. And with how I mixed it, he should be out for only about an hour.”

 

“We’re sure this is a good idea?” Moxxie asked hesitantly. He glanced between the taller demons.

 

“Well, I don’t want Blitzo freaking out. He’s smarter than he lets on—sometimes. If we just lead him into a dark alley or abandoned building, he’ll know something’s up. And I don’t really want to smash his head in,” Loona replied with a roll of her eyes.

 

“And roofies come with memory fuckage,” Millie added as she popped up behind Moxxie. She set her hands on his shoulders. “This’ll be the easiest way to get Blitzo to where we want him unharmed.”

 

“Yes, I recall the conversation. But it still feels sleazy, drugging our boss,” Moxxie said, arms crossed.

 

“It’ll all be worth it—hopefully. If we can get those two lovebirds back together.”

 

“As long as it gets Blitzo to stop acting like an emotional idiot, I suppose.”

 

“Exactly, babe. Operation DILF Recovery is underway!”

 

Octavia deadpanned. “I’m really going to need you to stop calling it that.”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

They’d picked a shitty, low traffic area to find a hideout. There was no shortage of abandoned and condemned buildings in Imp City, so it had not taken long to scope one out and deem it good enough for their ‘kidnapping.’ The three I.M.P. employees had barged in, scared any homeless imps or tweaking druggies out onto the streets, and worked their way into the lowest levels to secure a holding location. With an unconscious now Blitzo in the backseat, the team’s plan continued.

 

“Shit, I think he’s waking up-!”

 

“Hurry then, sweetie, and make sure he’s fully dearmed!”

 

Moxxie swiftly pat down the now shifting imp splayed across the floor.

 

“I think we got everything.”

 

“Including his backup phones?”

 

Moxxie paused before reaching down again. He ran his hand up the insides of Blitzo’s thighs, trying his best not to blush.

 

“All clear,” Moxxie continued. He tried not to look directly into his wife’s eyes as his face burned, but she didn’t say anything and instead took him by the hand and pulled him to the door.

 

Once they were out of the room, Loona grabbed a piece of rebar (ripped from the wall by her and Millie earlier) and slipped it into the two notches on either side of the door.

 

“There, locked in,” the hellhound said. She raised her hand and slid open the tiny slot at head level. It allowed her to see inside; Blitzo was coming around now. He was propped up on his elbows and blearily glancing around.

 

Blitzo groggily pushed himself to his knees. He sat there, wobbling, as he let the wooziness wear off. It was a sudden shift when he gave a panicked shout.

 

“Calm down, Blitzo!” Loona quickly yelled from the hole in the door. Immediately, the imp’s head whipped in her direction.

 

“Wha-? Loonie? Where am I?! What happened?!” he asked hurriedly. He jolted to his feet and scrambled toward the door. He seemed to remember a second too late that his leg was injured because he fell almost immediately after standing.

 

“Slow your roll, dude. Don’t freak out on me.”

 

Blitzo looked up from the floor, his teeth bared in a look of discomfort and frustration.

 

“Why am I in here?” he demanded.

 

“It’s for your own good, trust me,” Loona replied.

 

“What the fuck does that mean?! Let me out of here!”

 

Millie, standing on Moxxie’s shoulders, popped up. Loona scooted out of the way.

 

“You’ll be outta here soon enough, B. Just trust in us; we’ve got you covered,” Mille said.

 

“You . . . you were all in on this?” Blitzo scoffed. His eyes shone in the harsh artificial light from the bulb above.

 

“Oh, Blitzo, don’t think you’re in here because we’re mad or anythin’.” Millie’s tone took on one of comfort. “I promise, it’ll all make sense soon.”

 

“Just hang in there, Sir!” Moxxie’s voice was muffled on the other side of the door.

 

Blitzo snarled. “You guys better let me out!”

 

Loona glanced down at the imps by her side.

 

“We better get going. We don’t need him going nuclear before Stolas gets here,” the hellhound said lowly. Millie and Moxxie nodded in agreement. Quickly, Loona shut the peephole. Blitzo shouted again from the room, obviously pissed, but the trio scampered down the dark hallway before they could decipher any of it.

 

---

 

‘Step three: set the lie.’

 

Octavia checked her phone when she felt it vibrate.

 

Loona: Target is in position. Your turn.

 

Octavia sent back a quick thumbs up before slipping her phone back into her pocket. She stood from her desk and opened her bedroom door, giving the hallway a swift scan for any sign of her mother.

 

The coast was clear.

 

Octavia padded down the hallway toward her dad’s room. His sequestering still had not stopped, even at five nights after the initial argument between him and Blitzo. It was worrisome, of course, but would hopefully be coming to an end soon.

 

“Hey, Dad? You awake?” Octavia called after knocking on his chamber doors. There was no answer, but she heard the faint rustle of fabric.

 

It was more than frustrating and concerning that Stolas was so worked up over Blitzo that he seemed to be ignoring his own daughter. Octavia knew he wasn’t—even if it came off that way. She knew if she truly needed him, he would not hesitate to step out and assist. The first night they’d talked had made that clear, but it was obvious that his mental state had continued to suffer (even more so) since then.

 

“Have you spoken to Blitzo recently?” Octavia asked. She let that sink in, hoping to get his attention. There was still no answer, so she continued, “Loona told me she hasn’t seen him in a few days. She’s pretty worried.”

 

A long pause followed before a hoarse, “Blitzo is missing?” came from the opposite side of the doors.

 

“From what Loona is saying, yeah.”

 

“I . . . I’m afraid I have not had any contact with him in close to a week.”

 

Octavia made her voice sound disappointed. “Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll let Loona know.”

 

With that, Octavia walked away again, her phone already in her hands and typing out a message.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Stolas sat there for a long moment after he heard Octavia’s shoes pattering into the distance. He felt numb; his hands lay limply at his sides, his legs seemingly unable to work to pull himself from the bed. Despite this, his heart was pounding like a drum against his ribs, and his mind was racing.

 

Blitzo is AWOL?

 

Stolas’ vision blurred with tears.

 

Oh Satan, I hope he’s okay. What if he was so upset, he ran off? Stolas dreaded. No, no, Blitzo is dedicated to his daughter. There was no way he’d vanish, leaving Loona to fend for herself (even when she easily could). If he’d disappeared, he wouldn’t have done it voluntarily.

 

Stolas’ heart squeezed frightfully. Something awful must have happened! Maybe his kidnappers came back for revenge??

 

He wiped at his eyes with a hand and reached for his phone with the other. He’d barely touched the thing all week; he couldn’t stand the thought of seeing anything that reminded him of Blitzo. But right now, he needed to see for himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have gone into his sulking spiral. He should have checked in even if it wasn’t his place.

 

Blitzo’s phone went right to voicemail. Stolas swallowed, his throat dry, and then promptly switched contacts and texted Loona. He’d gotten her number a while back, when Blitzo had last been abducted, along with the other members of I.M.P. just in case of another emergency.

 

Stolas shot off a text that read, Blitzo is missing? How come you didn’t tell me?

 

Loona responded quickly. Blitzo came home fucked up and said you guys broke it off.

 

Stolas: Yes, Blitzo . . . decided he didn’t want to be together. But that doesn’t mean I stopped caring! I want him safe and sound!

 

Loona: Well fuck me I’m supposed to know that? I thought /you/ dumped /him/.

 

Stolas: No. I didn’t. Please, I want to help find him. Has anyone made any demands? Do we have any leads???

 

Loona: We ain’t got shit

 

Stolas: That is . . . upsetting. Please keep me updated. I need to make sure he’s okay!

 

Loona: K. I guess.

 

Conversation clearly over, Stolas sank down in his bed. He was the opposite of relaxed, but his nerves were jittery, and he found it impossible to stop his trembling. He didn’t want to just sit there and do nothing now that he knew Blitzo was missing. But what could he do? Last time his little imp—

 

No. Not his.

 

Last time Blitzo had been kidnapped, Stolas had not been the one to find him. He’d tried to track him down, but ultimately, it had been Blitzo’s mystical horse that had saved him.

 

Stolas curled onto his side, dejected.

 

---

 

“You think he’ll be mad when this is all over?”

 

Loona glanced up at Moxxie, who was standing in front of her. She was leaned back in one of their armchairs, her paws crossed and propped up on the coffee table.

 

“Eh, I think if this works, and they manage to get back together, he’ll get over it quick enough,” the hellhound responded.

 

“I suppose that’s true,” Moxxie continued with a considerate tap on his chin. “And he’ll only be in there for another few hours.”

 

“At the most.”

 

“Depends on how quick Stolas swoops in and saves Blitzo like a knight in shinin’ armor!” Millie swooned, falling dramatically against the doorway to the kitchen. The wooden spoon she was holding dripped cheesy sauce onto her forearm, and she happily licked it off as she straightened back up.

 

 “Dinner is ready, speakin’ of,” Millie continued with a smile. “After we eat, we best get ready and head off to the rendezvous point.”

 

“Remember to pack some food for Blitzo. We can shove it through the door,” Moxxie said.

 

“As if I don’t already have a plate ready for him.” Millie sent a good-natured wink her husband’s way. With that, she sauntered back into the kitchen.

 

---

 

‘Final step: tell Stolas where Blitzo is and let them confess their undying love for each other hopefully make up.’

 

Loona stood outside the condemned building with her back pressed up against the wall. Night had descended, and in this part of Imp City, the glow from nearby lights was considerably lessened.

 

“‘Kay, everything’s set,” Millie said as she emerged from the rundown building. She pocketed her phone and glanced back at her husband. Moxxie cocked his gun and nodded.  

 

“We’d better get this show on the road. Blitzo, despite being fed, is understandably not in a great mood,” he added sardonically.

 

“I’ll text Stolas then,” Loona said. She switched apps on her phone and pulled up her conversation with the prince.

 

She started it up again with a, we managed to track down Blitz

 

Stolas responded immediately: YOU DID??

 

Loona: Yeah, but the kidnapper’s got the place crawling with guards

 

Stolas: Do you require my assistance?

 

Loona: I mean. We aren’t getting in there without a fight.

 

Stolas: Send me your location at once!

 

Loona did so. No longer than ten seconds passed before a vibrant spark swirled in the air across the street. From the blue-and-purple portal, Stolas stepped onto the cracked asphalt. He appeared just as put together as always, if not more manic.

 

The prince came at them like a rush of wind, his cloak billowing behind his person.

 

“He’s in there?” Stolas asked quickly. He was obviously not wasting any time on pleasantries.

 

“Yes, your Majesty,” Moxxie replied.

 

“Where are the guards you spoke of?”

 

“Well, they’re mainly on the lower floors—”

 

“Blitzo is being held in the basement?”

 

“Correct. But we were thinking of waiting and having a stakeout to—”

 

Stolas cut off Moxxie’s words with a wave of his hand. His red eyes were glowing intensely.

 

“No need. I’ll go get him,” Stolas said firmly.

 

“But if you and Blitzo aren’t together, then why-?” Millie interjected.

 

Stolas softened for a split second. A flash of vulnerability shot across his face.

 

“I—ugh, there’s no time! Those dastardly thieves could be doing Satan-knows-what to him as we speak!”

 

Stolas didn’t let himself be hindered for even a second more. He clenched his fist, and his whole body became transparent in a shimmering of blue. The I.M.P. trio watched in awe as the prince dashed through the wall into the building.

 

“Well. Seems this is gonna work,” Millie said with a smirk, her gaze still on the wall Stolas had just disappeared through.

 

Moxxie blinked. “Yeah. Oh, crumbs, we better get out of here!”

 

“Don’t need to tell me twice. Let’s go before someone dies or cums,” Loona said.  The three demons hurried down the dark alley toward the company van and absconded, hoping their plan would come to fruition.

Chapter 15: Where I Belong

Summary:

Stolas and Blitzo talk.

The further down Stolas got in the partially crumbling building, the more apprehensive he became. At first, he’d been hellbent on storming down and murdering anyone who got in his way. The only problem was there was nobody.

 

There were no imps nor any other demons to be seen. Had Loona not said the place was crawling with guards? And Moxxie had corroborated that story.

 

Something strange was going on. Stolas could have sworn even an army wouldn’t be able to stop the I.M.P. team from destroying anyone and anything they wished. A supposed group of kidnappers should have been no exception.

 

Stolas reached the final floor of the building. The halls were dark, some parts damp where water dripped from leaky and unused pipes. He regained his solid form, releasing the hold on his magic, and began walking swiftly down the hallway. Despite his suspicions about the situation, he wasn’t about to leave without searching for Blitzo.

 

Stolas turned a corner and came across a small backpack leaning against the wall. The door nearest to the bag was barred with a piece of rusty rebar. A small sliver of light shone from underneath the door.

 

Stolas bent and picked up the backpack, his eyebrows furrowed. Upon unzipping the bag, he was surprised to discover Blitzo’s phone, gun, and a small horse figurine. Puzzled and concerned, Stolas shouldered the backpack and turned to the barred door. He ripped the rebar off, breaking the clamps that held it to the wall, and opened the door. Light flooded the hallway from the singular bulb swinging from the ceiling.

 

“Blitzo!” Stolas exclaimed. His eyes widened, and he clasped his hands together in joy. “You’re okay!” He couldn’t help how he rushed forward and fell to his knees in front of the now startled imp sitting against the wall.

 

“Wh-what are you doing here, Stolas?!” Blitzo asked, mouth hanging open at the sight of the owl. His tail curled around his feet.

 

“I’m here to save you!” Stolas’ eyes flicked over the bruises on Blitzo’s face and the bandages around his leg, along with the pair of crutches tossed to the side. “Oh my, you’re hurt!”

 

“Huh? No, these are from a few days ago. And wait, I don’t need saving! I need—well, I, uh, I don’t know,” Blitzo trailed off uncertainly. Stolas cocked his head at him. The imp shook his own to realign his thoughts. “How did you find me?”

 

“Loona told me she hadn’t seen you in a few days,” Stolas began explaining. “Then, mere minutes ago, she texted me that they’d found you. That you’d been kidnapped and held here.”

 

Blitzo’s face contorted in confusion. “What? No, Loona and the others just locked me in here earlier this afternoon.” He paused, shrinking in on himself and crossing his arms. “Fucking assholes.”

 

“Huh? Why would they do that?” Stolas frowned, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I don’t . . .”

 

Unless-?

 

“They . . . wanted me to come and see you,” Stolas said softly as he put the final pieces together. He lifted his gaze and met Blitzo’s wide eyes; the imp swallowed. “I suppose I see what’s happened here.”

 

“You thought I was in danger and came to . . . get me?” Blitzo asked quietly. The grip he had on his biceps tightened.

 

“Yes. There’s no way I could ever leave you to a such a fate.”

 

“Even though I-?”

 

Stolas’ furrowed eyebrows softened, his expression becoming more one of resignation. He reached out, brushing a featherlight touch against Blitzo’s knee.

 

“Yes,” the owl murmured.

 

“But we—I,” Blitzo’s words were choked, “I walked out. Left.”

 

“And?”

 

“You still came when you thought I was in trouble.”

 

Stolas’ mouth curved into the smallest of smiles. “Of course, I did.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I . . .” Stolas trailed off, his eyes flicking to the side. He floundered for words, mouth opening and closing twice without anything coming out. Flustered, the prince ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Because,” Stolas admitted, “I love you.”

 

The room went cold. Blitzo froze, breath catching in his lungs, and his eyes widened. Stolas could only stare with his own multitude of eyes at the imp before him. It became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

 

“You, y-you,” Blitzo finally managed to stammer out, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, “y-you don’t mean that.” He was holding tightly onto himself and shaking minutely.

 

Stolas whispered, “I do.”

 

“You can’t.” Blitzo was more forceful now. His voice was choked and cracking at the edges. Stolas reached forward and placed his hands over the imp’s, firmly cementing himself in his personal space.

 

“I can.”

 

“You’re lying!”

 

“I’m not.” Despite his shaky voice, Stolas’ words were firm. “I love you, Blitzo.”

 

Blitzo stared. His breaths came in small bursts as he processed what he’d just been told. His lungs felt tight; his heart hammered in his chest.

 

…

 

Blitzo lunged forward and secured his arms over Stolas’ shoulders. The prince jolted at the sudden action but was quick to wrap his own arms around Blitzo and hold onto him. The imp’s body trembled as a sob wracked his form.

 

“Sh, sh, it’s okay,” Stolas murmured, running one of his hands up and down Blitzo’s back. The imp’s face was buried in his shoulder, claws digging into his royal cloak.

 

“I-I’m sorry-!” Blitzo sobbed.

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my little imp.” Stolas settled into more of a sitting position, crossing his legs beneath himself and cradling Blitzo in his lap.

 

“I f-fucking ruined everyth-thing and—” It was hard for the imp to get much else out coherently through his tears.

 

“You didn’t. I promise.” Stolas’ throat was tight as he fought back his own tears of sorrow and joy at the fact he was rocking Blitzo back and forth as he tried to comfort him. The imp tried to splutter something else out, but Stolas shushed him gently again. This time, the effort seemed to work; Blitzo fell silent (in terms of words, anyway) and was apparently content to simply allow the prince to whisper sweet nothings in his ear as he calmed down.

 

The two remained there for a half hour, with Blitzo eventually slipping further into Stolas’ lap to end up with his head resting on the prince’s chest, his arms tucked into his lap, and Stolas’ own wrapped around him. Sometime during the embrace, Blitzo’s tail had curled around the owl’s upper arm.

 

Blitzo began tracing small circles into Stolas’ chest. The prince hooted softly, not expecting the motion, and glanced down.

 

“Blitzo?” Stolas murmured.

 

“. . . You can call me Blitzy. If you want,” the imp replied quietly with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

 

Stolas smiled and continued, “Blitzy, are you okay?”

 

Blitzo allowed his head to fall back onto Stolas’ arm. There, he looked up into the owl’s face.

 

“What part of me do you . . .?” the imp trailed off, his face burning as his eyes flicked to the side.

 

“All of you,” Stolas said matter-of-factly.

 

Blitzo met his eyes again.

 

“Why? I thought this was all just . . . sex. For the book.”

 

Stolas sighed softly and moved to set Blitzo on the floor. The imp frowned at the movement but allowed himself to be deposited.

 

“I’m sorry that was ever what you thought, Blitzo,” Stolas began. “Truth is, it was never just about sex. Well, maybe the very first time we met, but even then, however, there was something so intriguing about you. That’s why I wasn’t upset over your attempted robbery. I’d known immediately that I’d wanted to see more of you.”

 

“Then why the deal?” Blitzo asked.

 

“Because I was a fool. The deal I proposed was an . . . act of desperation.” Stolas shifted uncomfortably. “I thought that by arranging for one night a month, I would always get a chance to see you. That you’d see I wanted you around.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“It was atrocious for me to have lorded my status and property over you to get you to see me. I don’t want our relationship based on falsehood. Unfortunately, it seems that failed.”

 

Blitzo scraped a claw along the ground. “I thought it meant you’d only give me the book if we had sex, and that you didn’t want me for anything besides my dick.”

 

“That was the opposite of what I was trying to convey,” Stolas admitted. “But you were pulling away from me, and, and I was worried I’d lose you. Do you remember that night when you came in and stayed with me? After you were kidnapped for real?”

 

“Yeah,” Blitzo said, swallowing.

 

“I never understood why you’d went silent after that. I was worried I’d scared you away.”

 

“I . . . I was fucking scared. Scared of us. Scared of letting my guard down.” Blitzo wrapped his arms around himself.

 

“Of us? Why?”

 

“Because nobody I’ve ever let in has been good to me! I’ve been used and stepped on my entire life. Been unwanted, always the one getting fucked up, and . . . and I was terrified, okay? Of getting attached to you. B-because I, I really like you, too. And this whole you and me thing really, really scared me because I’ve never wanted anything that bad.” Blitzo wiped an arm across his face with a sniff. “S-so I ran away like a coward. Couldn’t face you after I was so . . . vulnerable.”

 

“Oh, Blitzy. You’re not a coward. And I would never turn you away just because you were vulnerable,” Stolas cooed softly. He moved a hand to place over one of Blitzo’s, but the imp met him in the middle, and they ended up intertwining their fingers together. They both glanced up after that, making direct eye contact. A soft smile crept across each of their faces.

 

“You really mean that?” Blitzo asked.

 

“Absolutely. I love every part of you. Not just the tough and strong, but also the quiet and sensitive side. The way you care about your daughter, your sense of humor, your passion for horses; I love that you make me laugh. That you’re not afraid to be yourself around me.

 

“Admittedly, I’m no Casanova. I’m very . . . estranged from the concept of love. I haven’t done well so far,” the prince continued, gaze now down on their connected hands. “I’d always thought it would be like a game. And I suppose, with you, I was trying to play it.”

 

Stolas sighed, “That was my mistake. I treated you more like a plaything than another demon. I never meant to make it seem that I only wanted you for my own sexual desires. I thought sex was just, well. How those in romantic relationships portrayed their love.”

 

“Relationships are more than just sex,” Blitzo said. He frowned. “I can’t say much about it, I guess. Verosika and I based a lot of ours on fucking, too. Maybe that’s why it didn’t work out.” His gaze strayed dejectedly.

 

Stolas squeezed Blitzo’s hand through their grip to regain his attention. “I want to do better for you, Blitzy. If you’ll let me.”

 

Blitzo allowed another smile to cross his face, a blush creeping alongside it.

 

“I wouldn’t mind that,” the imp responded quietly. His smile faded. “The only reason I left was because I couldn’t stand being somewhere I wanted to be wanted for more than my dick.”

 

“You are wanted for so much more than that, I promise you,” Stolas assured. “Let me prove it.”

 

Blitzo was silent for a moment. “I’ve missed you.”

 

“I’ve missed you so as well, Blitzy.” Stolas was overjoyed to hear those words come out of his imp’s mouth. “Come back with me?”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Stolas gave Blitzo his things and opened them a portal back to the palace. There, they’d settled into Stolas’ chambers.

 

“The fuck happened here? A bomb go off?” Blitzo asked upon seeing the state of Stolas’ room.

 

“W-well, magic can go haywire if one is emotional enough,” Stolas replied nervously. “And I was very upset that night.”

 

Blitzo fell quiet, obviously hit by the words, but Stolas quickly swooped in and said, “But it’s no longer a concern. I’ll have the cleaning staff in here sometime tomorrow to tidy things up. What I really want to know is what happened to put you on crutches?”

 

“Uh, well, had a job to kill some crazy guy, and he had a bear trap in his yard. Stepped in the fucking thing,” Blitzo explained. He was flopped on the bed, clearly tired.

 

“How dreadful! And the bruises? Are they also from that job?”

 

The imp hesitated, looking uncertain. “. . . No, after I . . . left, I got shitfaced and high and started a few bar fights.” Abashed, Blitzo rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at Stolas.

 

“Blitzy! You should never participate in such self-destructive behavior!”

 

“It’s fine! Just some bruising and a fractured rib, nothin’ too bad—”

 

“That is not fine!”

 

“Hey, c’mon, don’t worry about me,” Blitzo said. Stolas frowned at him, clearly about to continue arguing, but the imp kept talking before he could get a word in. “Could we maybe just, I don’t know, clean up and go to bed? I’m fucking beat.”

 

Stolas softened, the smile returning to his face. “Oh, of course. I could honestly do with a bath as well; I haven’t . . .” Suddenly, the bird looked stricken.

 

“What?” Blitzo narrowed his eyes.

 

“I . . . Admittedly, I have not been taking proper care of myself.”

 

“Explains the room.” Blitzo once again let his eyes roam the disastrous space; Stolas shrank at the examination. “You look normal, though.”

 

Stolas began shedding his royal attire, starting with his cloak. “Well, I’ve not been entirely honest with you: I put a glamor on before I left. Otherwise, I would have looked quite a mess in front of your employees. I couldn’t exactly come to a glorious rescue looking as I did.”

 

Blitzo cocked his head and inquired, “A glamor?”

 

Stolas nodded wordlessly. A swirl of magic traversed his lithe form, and when the glow disappeared, Blitzo nearly recoiled at the change. Stolas’ feathers were ruffled and lacked their usual sheen, and there were pronounced bags under his eyes. His clothes even seemed to hang off him.

 

“A disguise, of sorts, you could call it,” Stolas explained. “Very useful when wanting to hide how disgusting one looks.” He lowered his gaze, ashamed. Blitzo pushed himself to his feet carefully, grabbed one of his crutches, and hobbled the few steps to the prince.

 

“You’re still a sexy bitch,” Blitzo said as he grabbed Stolas’ thigh and squeezed.

 

“Oh, Blitzy, you do know how to make me feel beautiful.” Stolas smiled, bending down to pick up the imp. He pressed a kiss to the side of Blitzo’s head, earning a blush, and headed to the bathroom.

 

Stolas began filling the bath, adding a variety of different salts and powders. Blitzo undressed himself in the meantime.

 

“Holy fuck, you’re even scrawnier than normal,” Blitzo commented once Stolas had also gotten naked. The prince glanced over, a hoot of surprise on his tongue, followed by another look of shame that had Blitzo growling.

 

“You’re gonna get all mad at me cuz I had a fight or two, but then totally not care about yourself in the meantime?” the imp huffed. “You haven’t eaten, have you, ya fuck?”

 

“I . . . no,” Stolas admitted. “But—”

 

“No buts. If you won’t do it yourself, I’ll make you.”

 

“Well, with you here now, I feel good enough to partake in a meal, Blitzy.”

 

Blitzo gave him an unimpressed look. “Just. Get in.” He limped the short distance to the edge of the massive bathtub. Stolas, standing right next to him and about to lift the imp into the tub, let out a yelp of surprise as Blitzo smacked him firmly on the ass. “Bitch.”

 

The prince’s face went red as he tittered, and he gently set Blitzo (who was smirking) into the satisfactorily hot water. He got into the bath right after, sliding down the side until the water reached his chin. His long legs folded up and left his knees poking out of the water.

 

“Ah, that feels amazing,” Stolas sighed, eyes closing. Bubbles floated around their heads, one landing and sticking to Blitzo’s horn.

 

“It does,” the imp agreed readily. The water was up to his chin just kneeling, but it kept the pressure off his body and allowed his wounds to breathe.

 

Stolas smiled and ducked his head under the water. When he popped back up, feathers slick against his skin, Blitzo couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“You look like a drowned rat!” the imp teased. Stolas gasped, feigning offense, and put a hand to his chest. Blitzo grinned and pushed a handful of water, splashing the prince with a wave of bubbles.

 

“You’re so silly, Blitzy!” Stolas laughed. He shook his head, sending water droplets flying. Blitzo merely smirked and stuck out his tongue.

 

Stolas smiled warmly. “Here, let me clean you.” He sat up and reached for something just beside the tub. Now with a textured loofah in hand, the prince sat with his legs folded under him and Blitzo waiting patiently before him. Stolas lathered up the loofah and began scrubbing the imp’s striped horns. Blitzo hummed lightly at the ministrations. He relaxed, leaning into the touch with his head tilted back. The hum turned to a purr at some point.

 

Stolas continued bathing the imp, going down his back and chest. Once Blitzo was scrubbed from head to toe (and done giggling because his hooves were sensitive), he was practically glowing.

 

“There we go, all done,” Stolas said happily. He rinsed the loofah and put it aside, then sunk back to his laying position against the end of the tub.

 

“What about you?” Blitzo asked. His tail swished.

 

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t need to be scrubbed down. I’ll just need to preen myself properly later.”

 

“Mmkay.” Blitzo fell silent. He pawed at a particularly large bubble casually. Stolas, eyes half closed in contentment, watched the imp from his spot. Blitzo glanced up; there was a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

 

“Ooh, Blitzy, fancy meeting you here,” Stolas purred as Blitzo crawled forward. Their faces were now only inches apart as Blitzo straddled the prince’s form.

 

Blitzo grinned, giving a small snort of amusement, and brushed his lips against Stolas’ beak. The owl’s breath caught in his throat, cut off by the tiniest of moans, and Blitzo went back in to press their mouths fully together. Stolas didn’t hesitate at all when offered the kiss; this was the first time Blitzo had ever initiated one. Fuck, it was so hot and not just in a lustful way.

 

“Blitzo,” Stolas breathed once they parted for air. A heat was building in his lower abdomen, a tingle starting between his legs.

 

“Yeah?” Blitzo murmured. He moved his lips across Stolas’ cheek, teeth bared so the prince could feel them against his skin. It wasn’t the only thing Stolas could feel, either; the imp’s erection was beginning to press against his stomach. Stolas didn’t say anything else as Blitzo kissed him again, and their tongues licked into each other’s mouth. Blitzo let out a small growl and grinded his cock right above the owl’s pelvis.

 

“F-fuck, we shouldn’t—Blitzy, you’re hurt,” Stolas gasped, pulling away slightly.

 

“No, it’s fine,” Blitzo said, capturing his lover’s chin in a firm hand and forcing them to look at each other, “I want this.”

 

Stolas gazed into Blitzo’s intense eyes, seeing nothing but desire. Both their faces were red, their lips parted slightly.

 

“I’m not about to say no,” Stolas replied after a moment, a small smile on his face. He spread his legs farther apart. Blitzo scooted back to line up; Stolas moaned as the imp pressed in.

 

“Fuck, Blitzy,” the prince whimpered softly. He arched his back, pushing his hips into his lover’s. Blitzo slowly began moving, seemingly content to take his time. They were both breathing hard despite the conditions; this was the slowest and most relaxing way they’d ever had sex, but it seemed so much more intense than before.

 

Stolas didn’t play up his moans or let himself cry out. It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good (because it felt amazing), especially after the week they’d both had, he just felt that he didn’t need to make any loud noises this time. He was content to just allow Blitzo to fill him up and use him.

 

“Blitzy, fuck, please, I want all of you,” Stolas begged, voice still barely raised. His arms were thrown over Blitzo’s shoulders. The imp leaned forward and connected their mouths again; this time, it was less of a make out session but even more intimate. Blitzo made a point to punctuate each methodical thrust with a kiss.

 

Despite the lack of their usual intensity, both demons were reaching their highs. Stolas’ soft, breathy moans grew more pitchy, and Blitzo’s fine-tuned thrusting was becoming more sporadic.

 

“F-fuck, Stolas,” Blitzo groaned, his eyes closed and teeth biting into his lip. He was incredibly close. He pressed a messy kiss to the corner of the prince’s mouth. “I-I love you-!”

 

Blitzo came, hard, a moan breaking from his throat as he went rigid. His tail slapped the surface of the water. Stolas, having not expected to hear those words quite yet, let out a higher pitched squeak as the burning inside him flared. The sensation of being filled and the strength behind Blitzo’s words stoked an entirely different fire inside him, and Stolas squeezed the imp between his thighs and tossed his head back as he came.

 

Stolas slowly recovered, his eyes glazed over and hair messy from how it was drying. He picked his head back up to look at his lover. Blitzo was still panting, both his hands holding onto Stolas’ hips. He glanced up and met the prince’s eyes. They both smiled wearily.

 

“I love you, too, Blitzy,” Stolas said. He couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes.

 

“Aw, c’mon, ya fucking softy,” Blitzo snorted, though his tone was light.

 

“Can’t help it. I’m just so thrilled to hear those words~”

 

Blitzo rolled his eyes good naturedly and finally pulled his softened cock from Stolas’ hole.

 

“I think my dick is wrinkly from how wet you are.”

 

Stolas laughed out loud, not expecting the rather crude joke. “I’m sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact we’re in the tub, hmm?” he mused with a smile.

 

“Totally,” Blitzo chuckled. “Speaking of, we probably undid everything we just did to clean ourselves up.”

 

“Well, let’s just hop in the shower for a rinse. I’m exhausted.”

 

Blitzo agreed, and together, the two demons emerged from the bathtub and scurried, sopping wet and naked, to the shower. They gave themselves a quick rinsing and then wrapped themselves in fluffy towels before heading to the bedroom.

 

Blitzo, now dry, bandages changed, and back to completely naked, crawled across the large bed and made himself comfy underneath the blankets. Stolas joined him, just as nude, and snuggled up to the imp.

 

“Goodnight, my darling Blitzy.”

 

“Night, Stolas.”

 

Content for the first time in days, the two drifted off in each other’s arms.

Notes:

I hope this reunion was worth the build up! Story ain't over yet. :)

Chapter 16: Call me Your Favorite

Notes:

Holy fuck, been a while. Hit the largest wall of writer's block. Rewrote this chapter 3-4 times, edited copiously, cut out whole sections. This was going to be longer, but then I just could not make the last scene work and went 'fuck it, they've waited long enough.'

Because apparently my brain doesn't wanna write an intricate story line or meaningful dialogue. Just wanna write them f u c k i n g

It was strange. When Stolas awoke, he didn’t expect the warm body curled around his torso. But as soon as he opened his eyes, the memories of the previous night came flooding back, washing the prince in a wave of euphoria. He smiled, relieved that his nightmare was over. He wasn’t sure he could’ve taken another day waking up to a cold bed and a heart full of anguish.

 

Stolas brushed a hand along the one Blitzo had draped over his ribs. Red claws twitched at the contact. He could hear the imp’s quiet snuffles from where he was deep in slumber.

 

Surely drooling, Stolas thought amusedly. He enjoyed the warmth radiating from his little lover and the smoothness of his skin on his feathery back.

 

Blitzo murmured something in his sleep. It was incoherent, but the tone was clearly satisfied. Stolas trilled quietly, absolutely content, and fluffed up his feathers before settling again. His eyes closed, and he drifted off.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

The two awoke for the day sometime in the late morning. This time, it was Blitzo who shifted first, his claws flexing as his back arched in a large stretch. He settled back down wearily, still half hazy with sleep, and allowed himself to simply exist in the bed for a long moment.

 

Blitzo could smell Stolas, their proximity making it easy. He continued to be a fan of the prince’s scent; he’d liked it the first time and he still liked it now. The light flowery scent of lilacs wasn’t too strong or overpowering, the coldness underneath giving it a slight edge. He realized he, too, smelt like lilac because of their bath last night. It was kinda hot, smelling like his boyfriend.

 

Boyfriend? Blitzo repeated in his head. It didn’t come as much of a shock as it had previous times he’d thought about the notion. Because now, now it was real.

 

Stolas let out a small trill as he began to wake up. Blitzo grinned toothily against the avian’s back and snuck the hand that was resting atop his feathered ribs down to his stomach. There, he traced small circles with the tip of a claw.

 

“Mm, morning, Blitzy,” came Stolas’ tired rumble. His voice was thick with sleep, but the tone belied a smile.

 

“Morning, sunshine,” Blitzo said as he swirled his claw lower. He brushed lightly against Stolas’ pubic bone and ever so slightly down to the top of his slit.

 

The prince giggled softly. “Someone’s feeling frisky this morning, hmm?”

 

Blitzo said, muffled by feathers, “Maaaaybe. Maybe I missed wrecking this tiny little ass.” His fingers danced across Stolas’ entrance, earning a shudder.

 

“Well, I certainly missed your big dick inside me~” Stolas reached back with a hand and felt around for Blitzo’s head. He ended up caressing the side of his face only after knocking into his horns.

 

“This is still what you want?” Stolas asked quietly. Abruptly, his teasing tone was gone and replaced by a soft trepidation.

 

“Don’t be so skeptical,” Blitzo replied stonily. Two of his claws slipped inside the prince’s cloaca. Stolas whimpered. “After last night, we both made it obvious what we wanted, didn’t we? I wouldn’t have reciprocated if I hadn’t.”

 

“I’m, I’m just,” Stolas sighed out as Blitzo scissored his fingers inside him, “afraid of making the same mistakes-! Oooh, Blitzo-!”

 

The imp had crooked his fingers and hit Stolas’ g-spot. The prince squirmed, rocking his hips into the sensation.

 

“You won’t. We’ll be better this time,” Blitzo responded as he added a third finger and rubbed circles into that sensitive patch of flesh. Stolas’ lubrication dripped down the back of his hand, the scent of arousal growing heavier in the bedroom. The prince’s hand found his horn again and tugged. He could feel the imp’s erection pressing into his lower back.

 

“Yes, yes, we will,” Stolas squeaked. He brought a leg up, pushing Blitzo’s off as he fought to get those fingers deeper inside. His other hand was gripping tightly onto the sheets.

 

“You know I’m not good with words.” A firm press made Stolas moan. “But I can show you like this.” Blitzo nibbled at Stolas’ side.

 

“Oh, yes, Blitzy, fuck! That feels so good-!”

 

“It does, doesn’t it?”

 

The sound of Blitzo’s fingers working at Stolas’ inner nub in feverish circles was quickly becoming the loudest thing in the room behind the owl’s whimpering.

 

“I know just how you like it,” the imp said matter-of-factly. He was grinning at the show, Stolas thrusting his hips to meet his hand.

 

“Yes, baby, yes!” the prince cried.

 

“You’re close; I can tell. Cum for me, birdie.” Blitzo’s tone was no nonsense, his voice rough and commanding but also thrilled. His fingers hadn’t stopped once since he’d started. Stolas twitched sporadically under his ministrations, his muscles tight. He came not a moment later, his back arched and mouth open in a gasp. Stolas’ pulse raced as Blitzo continued to finger him through his orgasm, milking every ounce of pleasure from his climax.

 

Stolas squirmed as the touch became too much. He patted Blitzo’s horn, a choked “Blitzy-” leaving his mouth. He could easily stop the imp on his own, but he trusted him to listen.

 

Hearing the tired desperation, Blitzo retracted his now wet claws from the owl’s groin. He brought his hand to his mouth and lapped with his long tongue at the sticky substance. Making a lewd smacking sound, Blitzo said smugly, “You taste pretty good for a little slut.”

 

Stolas huffed amusedly and rolled over onto his side to face his lover.

 

“I’m glad you think so, baby,” the prince purred. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees before moving to lay between Blitzo’s thighs. The imp’s erection throbbed as Stolas brushed his cheek against it. Blitzo watched with a smirk, arms behind his head. He let himself relax as Stolas opened his beak and sucked at the side of his cock.

 

Blitzo let out a low hum of contentment at the treatment. Stolas was teasing him; he could swallow the imp’s cock down easily but was busying himself with licking the underside up to the tip.

 

“You like doing this,” Blitzo said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

 

Stolas merely put his mouth over the tip of Blitzo’s cock and suckled. Once again, the imp sensed the aura of smugness radiating off his lover despite the dick in his mouth. It was truly impressive how Stolas managed to do that.

 

Eyes now closed, Stolas slowly took more of the imp into his mouth until the tip of his beak lightly touched Blitzo’s skin. He let out a muffled moan that made Blitzo sigh softly.

 

“Fuck, Stol’,” the imp groaned as the prince sucked and moved up. Stolas swirled his tongue around the girthy cock as much as he could, loving how full his mouth was, slobbering all over, and slowly retracted it from his jaws. The lewd sound of the suction breaking as Stolas disconnected the imp’s dick from his beak was extremely loud in the otherwise quiet room. Blitzo moaned, his erection throbbing as cold air replaced the hotness of the owl’s throat.

 

“I love your cock,” Stolas purred. Spit dribbled down his chin, wetting his neck, and several strands connected his beak to the aforementioned dick.

 

“I can tell,” Blitzo replied, grinning. Stolas returned a sultry smile and pushed himself onto his knees, moving to straddle Blitzo’s thighs. His erection brushed drops of wetness against the prince’s stomach.

 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Blitzo murmured. He set his hands on Stolas’ hips and rubbed circles with his thumbs.

 

The prince was a mess; his crown feathers were sticking up in some parts and smoothed down strangely in others, and the same could be said for most of his downy body. Blitzo could even see where he’d rested his hand on Stolas’ ribs during the night. His pubic feathers were soaked and sticking together. But despite all this, the imp couldn’t find anything wrong with him.

 

Stolas, between rolling his hips into Blitzo’s cock, leaned down to the imp’s head level and murmured playfully in his ear, “I’ll top so you don’t strain anything.” He sat up with a smirk and positioned himself over Blitzo’s cock, one hand on it to hold it in place while he slid the tip in. Stolas hilted himself with a low groan.

 

“Fuck, your little bird pussy is so tight,” Blitzo hissed.

 

“You love it.”

 

“No doubt about that. Now get movin’.” The imp squeezed Stolas’ thighs, his teeth bared in a devilish grin. The prince sighed as he slowly began, allowing himself to grow accustomed to the cock in his slick hole. Blitzo’s hands gripped his waist, and he used his own strength to help guide Stolas up and down but refrained from going as intensely due to his fractured ribs.

 

A couple of warmup strokes and Stolas was bouncing up and down on Blitzo’s lap with fervor. The wet slap as their bodies connected was overshadowed by Stolas’ moaning; his head was thrown back, eyes closed in pleasure, talons flexing at the end of his legs. He rambled semi-coherently about how good Blitzo’s dick felt as he let himself drool obscenely.

 

Stolas came first; after being fingered earlier, his insides were already sensitive. He shuddered as he came on Blitzo’s cock, the imp groaning in pleasure as the tightness became hotter around him. Stolas fell forward and planted his hands on either side of Blitzo’s head. The smaller demon let out a sharp gasp as he reached his own climax, and Stolas moaned and shivered again as warmth filled his already dripping hole. They remained there for a long moment, breathing hard as they came down.

 

Stolas shifted first to pull Blitzo’s now flaccid cock from his slit. The imp let out a small hiss as the motion of Stolas sitting up made the bed move in the wrong way, sending a twinge of pain through his ribs.

 

“Oh! Sorry, Blitzy,” Stolas said quickly.

 

“It’s fine; barely even hurt,” Blitzo responded with a wave of his hand. At the concerned glance, the imp continued, “It’s fine, Big Bird. The crotch grinding really took away most of my ability to feel pain.” He flashed a smile.

 

Stolas hummed. “Okay. As long as you’re sure.”

 

“I am.” He scooted up on the bed. “Hey, can you grab my phone?”

 

“Of course.” Stolas slid off Blitzo entirely and reached across the bed to grab the phone off the nightstand, disconnecting it from the charger.

 

“Thanks,” Blitzo grunted as he took the device. He didn’t even unlock it, instead staring at the lit screen for a moment.

 

“What is it?” Stolas asked, looking over. He’d settled back onto his side of the bed.

 

“From Loona, ‘I’m guessing you not coming home last night means you got laid. You’re welcome.’”

 

Stolas couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth, and he laughed. Blitzo raised an eyebrow at the prince but didn’t say anything, merely rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to his phone.

 

Blitzo: vary funny. we’ll talk about tihs l8r

 

Loonie: 🖕

 

Blitzo tossed his phone to the side and fell back against the pillows. They were nearly too soft for their own good, and it was easy to get lost in them. Stolas scooted closer, resting his chin in a hand and looking with half lidded eyes at the imp.

 

“Need something?” Blitzo asked without looking over.

 

“Just your love and attention,” Stolas replied sweetly. Blitzo glanced at him, receiving a flutter of eyelashes in return, and sighed, but the smile on his face belied his true mood.

 

“You’re so cute when you play hard to get,” Stolas continued.

 

“Well, I must not be as cute considering,” Blitzo replied.

 

“Nonsense! You’re as amazing as ever.”  

 

“Mmhmm.” Blitzo’s hum dripped with amusement, and he reclined further against the pillows with his arms behind his head.

 

Stolas didn’t move from his laying position, still gazing with adoring eyes at his lover. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, even as Blitzo waited for whatever Stolas was obviously about to say.

 

“Blitzy, what are your plans for today?” the prince asked with what he hoped was a level voice. His red eyes had strayed from only the imp’s face, instead flicking between Blitzo and the bed where he was drawing shapes into the blanket with a talon. “Not work, obviously?”

 

“Nah, I’ve been outta commission since this happened,” Blitzo responded with a gesture at his leg.

 

“Of course. As much as I expected.” Stolas paused. “. . . Anything else?”

 

Blitzo glanced over. “Why? You want me all to yourself?” A smirk tugged at his lips.

 

“If only you knew,” Stolas purred playfully. “Thanks for the wake-up call, by the way. It was quite enjoyable.” He traced a light line with a talon up the imp’s thigh.

 

Blitzo snorted in amusement. “Yeah, babe. Same.”

 

The owl perked up at the term of endearment, an ecstatic grin spreading across his face. His eyes seemed to glow more intensely. Blitzo flushed at the response, glancing away with an embarrassed mumble under his breath. Stolas chuckled at the coy reaction before speaking.

 

“Truthfully, Blitzo, I would like to spend the day with you. I’ve been neglecting my royal duties long enough; one more day won’t hurt in the long run, and I’d like to have a good time before I return,” the prince said. “It could just be you and me. If you want.”

 

Blitzo looked intently at the prince. His expression was unreadable; Stolas blinked.

 

“I’ve missed you,” the owl said a moment later, reaching his hand out and touching Blitzo on the chest, a finger brushing across his collar bone. Blitzo brought an arm down and took Stolas’ wandering hand in his own, holding it to his chest.

 

“We were only apart for like five days,” Blitzo said. Stolas opened his mouth to speak, but the imp cut him off as he continued with a softer tone to his voice. “You don’t need to be so afraid I won’t want to spend time with you.”

 

“I’m only thinking about how you like your space. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your life. Or your other relationships.”

 

“You’re not.”

 

“But you’d tell me?”

 

Blitzo scoffed. “If there’s anything I’d’ve hoped we’d learned, it’s that we’re shit at communicating. Which is why we, like, need to do better at it.”

 

“Ah, yes. I’m sure quite a few of our issues would have been significantly easier if we’d only talked about them instead of making assumptions.” Stolas glanced away bashfully.

 

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Blitzo mumbled.  

 

“But you’ll spend the day with me?” Stolas asked hopefully.

 

Blitzo gave him a soft smile. “Yeah. I will.”

 

“Oh, wonderful!” Stolas smiled, his eyes lighting up. “You’ve no idea how happy that makes me, Blitzy. Here, why don’t I order some lunch, and in the meantime, we can clean up.” The prince pushed himself up from the bed in the beginnings of a plan.

 

“Sounds good. I’m starving.” Blitzo clambered off the bed and followed after snagging a crutch from the floor. Stolas grabbed his antique phone and called what Blitzo could only assume was his form of ‘room service.’

 

“No beck and call?” the imp inquired after Stolas had placed an order with the kitchen.

 

“No, I’d prefer to keep this on the down low for now; servants coming in and out will signal I’m up and about, and I don’t know if Stella is around,” Stolas explained. “She . . . well, let’s just say we had a very heated exchange the other day.” He glanced down, looking upset.

 

Blitzo nodded in understanding; he didn’t need to pry any further. He knew that Stolas’ wife happened to be a massive bitch at times.

 

“Hey now, forget her,” Blitzo said with a nudge to the prince’s thigh. “Come on, let’s take a bath or shower or whatever, and then I can preen you.”

 

Stolas smiled. “Sounds delightful. I think we take a shower because we both know what happened in the tub last night.” He fluttered his eyelashes at the smaller demon, who smirked and lashed his tail.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on.”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

An hour later, they were both clean, Stolas was back to being fluffy, and they were lounging about in silk robes after they’d eaten lunch.

 

Sitting crosslegged on the bed in a dark royal robe that was ridiculously large on him, Blitzo tipped his head back to finish his glass of wine. He wiped his mouth and then pursed his lips as he observed the owl seated across from him.

 

“You feeling okay?” Blitzo asked.

 

Stolas jerked his head up. He’d been fiddling with the hem of his own crimson robe, obviously deep in thought.

 

“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be? I have my darling Blitzy here with me,” the prince responded with a faux cheerfulness.  

 

“You’re distracted.”

 

“I . . . my apologies, Blitzy. It’s not about you; I simply find myself worrying about the future.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Stolas sighed softly. “I’m just thinking about us. How . . . hard it will be with how we live.”

 

Blitzo remained silent for a long moment. He’d attempted to refrain from dwelling on the specifics of their relationship for the time being, but it was something they couldn’t put off for long.

 

“So, it’s not just as easy as getting a divorce from the bitch and splitting custody?” Blitzo asked, already knowing the answer.

 

Stolas smiled weakly. “I’m afraid not. To be quite honest, I have no idea how I could even start to go about that. If Stella and I separate, I wouldn’t know what would happen. To us, to Octavia,” he replied.

 

“You’re above Stella, aren’t you? In, like, rank? Ya know, royalty wise.”

 

“You’re correct. My family is more powerful than Stella’s. She married into mine for the wealth and influence.” Stolas paused, swirling his glass of wine. “Being it was an arranged marriage, I don’t know the . . . consequences of ending such an agreement. Even if I am more powerful than her.”

 

“‘Consequences’? The fuck does that mean?”

 

“I could be retaliated against by Stella’s family or even other members of the upper class. They don’t look favorably upon royals leaving their marriages.”

 

Blitzo lashed his tail in anger. “That’s fucking stupid! You should be able to be with who you want, and—”

 

Stolas cut the imp off with a wave of his hand and a gentle shush. Blitzo fell silent, fuming with his arms crossed. His face was red, whether from anger or embarrassment, Stolas wasn’t sure.

 

“I know, Blitzo,” the prince said calmingly with a brush of his hand against the imp’s cheek. Blitzo leaned into it, capturing the thin appendage in his own and holding it to his face. Stolas smiled at the gesture and didn’t move his hand. “It’s not ideal. But things work differently when you’re powerful in Hell. I don’t much enjoy the politics, either.”

 

Blitzo frowned deeply into the caress, looking strangely miserable.

 

“‘S dumb,” was all the imp muttered.

 

“It is,” Stolas once again agreed. He pulled Blitzo into an embrace, holding him in his lap. His hoofed feet didn’t even stick out from the robe pooling around him. His tail twitched with the last vestiges of irritation.

 

“It’s no use dwelling on,” Stolas said. “I’m sorry I even brought it up. It’s just . . . I worry about how my daughter will be affected.”

 

“It’s understandable. I worry about Loona all the time,” Blitzo said, peering up at the owl from his lap.

 

“Yes, as parents, it is our job to worry, no?” Stolas hummed with a hint of amusement. “No doubt I’ve made her worry enough this past week. I’ll need to talk with her.”

 

“Ye, I gotta chat with Loona, too. Not to mention M and M.” Blitzo scowled and bristled visibly. His tail flicked.

 

Stolas glanced down. “Don’t be too hard on them?”

 

“They fucking drugged and kidnapped me!”

 

“Drugged? Oh, my Blitzy.” Stolas leant down and nuzzled the top of Blitzo’s head, careful to avoid the spines.

 

“Like, I know I was . . . erratic, but they didn’t have to fucking do that.” Blitzo’s tone became sullen. “I trusted them.”

 

“Baby,” Stolas began, leaning back into the pillows, all the while holding Blitzo, “I understand how upset you must be about that. You’ve already been kidnapped for real. But I think that, while I know I’m in no position to tell you how you should go about this, you should look at their intent. It was quite obviously a ploy to get us back together.”

 

Blitzo had his arms crossed. “I guess. But couldn’t they have done it some other way?” he asked angrily.

 

“I’m sure they could have. And that’ll be something you’ll need to discuss. But I think their intentions were well off. Their execution, however? Could use some tweaking.” Stolas smiled at his little lover, hoping to get one back; Blitzo couldn’t help but respond in kind because Stolas was always so reassuring.

 

“I like the way you talk,” the imp sighed. He relaxed into the prince’s arms, letting his head fall back.

 

“Oh~? And here I thought you didn’t like my fancy pants words.”

 

“Your voice is sexy even if I don’t understand everything you fucking say. I just like it.”

 

“And you like it when I talk dirty to you~?” Stolas’ words were teasing.

 

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “I think I like it best when you’re unable to speak.”

 

“Like when your thick cock is shoved down my—”

 

Blitzo lunged upwards, slapping a large hand over Stolas’ beak.

 

“Filthy little mouth ya got on that pretty face of yours, huh? Maybe next time we’ll remedy that,” the imp threatened with a devilish glint in his eye. Stolas moaned under his hand, eyes half lidded.

 

“Nope,” Blitzo continued, popping the ‘p’ and standing fully. He grinned at the prince and tugged his borrowed robe tighter around himself. “My dick’s off limits for now.”

 

Stolas purred, “I’ll hold you to that promise later then, hmm?”

 

“Guaranteed.” Blitzo winked.

Chapter 17: State of my Head

Notes:

Newest episode made my pp hard--

Anyway, I have a lot of work to do once I get back to canon events apparently. But bring it on! >:D

Octavia didn’t fall asleep until nearly five a.m. She was a literal night owl, always feeling more energetic and productive when the hour was turning from late to early. The night of her and Loona’s plan to get their oblivious dads to reconcile and admit their feelings was no exception to her typical bedtime.

 

After forgetting her phone existed for several hours while she painted in the dead of night, Octavia had come back to see a text from Loona saying Stolas had shown up at the warehouse.

 

Not long after, the princess fell asleep still fully clothed on top of her covers.

 

Around three pm was when Octavia finally woke up for the day. She blearily pushed herself from bed and made her way to the en-suite bathroom. After cleaning up, she checked her phone again.

 

Loona: No sign of Blitz. He and Stolas must’ve made up

 

Octavia: I’ll scope it out.

 

Loona: you just woke up.

 

Octavia: , , , no

 

Loona: 😂 bitch me too!1!!

 

Loona: But seriously, tell me what’s up because even though I’m pretty sure they fucked and made up, I still wanna make sure Blitz ain’t dead in an alley somewhere 💀

 

Octavia: I’m all over it 💪

 

She slipped her phone back into her pocket and peeked her head outside her door. The hallway was empty. Hoping she wouldn’t run into her mother, Octavia scurried across the palace to her father’s chambers. From down the hall, she could see the magical warding was no longer present on the doors. That was a very good sign.

 

Octavia stopped outside the doors and listened closely. She couldn’t hear any scandalous activity, so hopefully she wasn’t about to interrupt anything.

 

“Dad?” she called, knocking on the door. There was not even a sliver of movement from the other side. If he was in there, he’d surely say something. Unless he was out on the balcony crying again, but she sincerely doubted that since Blitzo was very likely on the palace grounds.

 

Octavia continued. She headed toward the dining area; she hadn’t eaten yet. She was also hoping to run into one of their servants.

 

Luck struck as Tamor passed in front of her. Quickly, she stopped him.

 

“Seen my dad?” Octavia asked.

 

“Good afternoon, Your Highness. Yes, I have seen His Majesty today. He and Mr. Blitzo had lunch, and I’m sure they’ve not left the garden yet,” the imp responded.

 

“Thanks. Could you have my usual lunch order sent to the kitchen?”

 

“Absolutely. Shall I have it brought to you?”

 

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Thanks again.”

 

“You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Having decided she wouldn’t bother them, Octavia put in her earbuds and grabbed her sketchbook and pencils from her room. She went out to the hallway balcony on the southern side of the palace; the one above the garden. There, she glanced out over the sprawling number of plants.

 

She could see Stolas and Blitzo from her position. Her father was petting a giant carnivorous plant tenderly while Blitzo seemed to be looking at the scene skeptically. Octavia didn’t blame him; those plants had been known to take a bite out of their household imps if not fed on time.

 

The princess allowed herself a small smile. Even from the balcony, she could see Stolas was smiling and laughing. It was such a change from the previous week, one she was glad for, even if her heart squeezed painfully at the truth that her, Stella, and Stolas would never truly be a ‘family’ again.

 

---

 

Blitzo startled as a drop of something fell on his forehead. He glanced up at the sky; he hadn’t been aware of how cloudy it’d been, but clearly it was about to start raining. He and Stolas had been out in the garden for a few hours now, caring for the latter’s plants. Well, mostly it’d been Stolas spouting about each species and their attributes, watering and trimming where needed while Blitzo sat by and watched.

 

But that was okay. Blitzo truly didn’t mind (though he was somewhat hesitant around the larger carnivorous plants as he always was); not that he’d admit it, but he kinda liked when Stolas got all nerdy about something he enjoyed. The prince often waxed poetic about the stars and space and gardening and Blitzo’s cock, obviously delighting in info-dumping onto someone who at least seemed to care. Blitzo used to feign apathy towards this behavior of Stolas’, but after everything he didn’t mind giving a small smile or two when the owl was shooting off at the mouth.

 

Another rain drop landed in his eye. Blitzo scowled, squinting and shaking his head. The sky was rapidly darkening, wind picking up, and Stolas, the oblivious ditz that he could be, had returned to humming gently as he leaned in to tidy up some tangled roots. His feathers moved in waves as the zephyr ruffled past.

 

“Hey, a storm is coming,” Blitzo said, nudging the prince in the haunch with his good foot. Stolas perked up with a hoot of surprise. His ruby gaze flicked first toward the roiling sky and then to Blitzo.

 

“Oh, I hadn’t even noticed! I was . . . distracted,” Stolas admitted as though it hadn’t been obvious.

 

Blitzo smirked, raising an eyebrow, and merely looked at the bird. Stolas flushed under the imp’s gaze before he got to his feet. A second later, a roll of thunder broke through the air. Lightning followed not a moment after, eerily crimson in Hell’s sky. Before either of them could say anything else, the wind lashed, sending leaves and other debris hurling past them, and then the rain began pouring. It was a sudden switch, no build up as the downpour came in sheets.

 

“Oh!” Stolas jumped into action, scooping Blitzo into his arms and dashing toward the palace. They were inside within a few moments but were already soaked to the bone. Hell had a very funny way of fucking you over, and the weather was no exception.

 

Blitzo groaned; he’d just gotten into a fresh change of clothes thanks to Stolas sending his typical suit to be dry cleaned. Now he was once again drenched thoroughly despite their quick return to the indoors.

 

“Now I wish we’d just gone to the greenhouse instead,” Stolas joked sheepishly. “My apologies, Blitzy.”

 

“It’s fine, bird brain,” Blitzo replied. He wriggled in Stolas’ grip (he was sick of being carried! He would walk, fuck his injured leg!) and was deposited back onto his feet. He glanced up at the prince. “Dammit. Just fucking preened you, and you’re looking like a wet rat again.”

 

Stolas laughed lightly as he wrung out a handful of his sodden crest feathers. “Unfortunately, yes. But it’s fine! It just means you can worship my body all over again~” With the last sentence, the prince leaned down and puckered his beak towards Blitzo in search of a cheeky kiss. However, the imp groaned, rolled his eyes, and pushed Stolas’ face away, earning an affronted pout.

 

“Let’s just go dry off,” Blitzo grumbled. He took Stolas’ hand instead and began the walk back upstairs. The owl eagerly fell in step beside his little lover, adjusting his footfalls as not to run the imp ragged.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Blitzo was sitting crisscrossed on the bed in just his underwear, annoyance radiating off his person. He’d wanted to just go naked, or even toss Stolas’ extra robe on again, but the bird had rejected the idea for some unknown reason. Psh, Stolas loved the image of Blitzo being buck ass nude—why was he making him stay in his still damp boxer briefs?

 

“Aw, Blitzy, don’t look so down,” Stolas said from the other side of the room. He’d been talking on the phone; the imp hadn’t paid any attention to the call, however, merely pouting in his own head about his swamp ass adjacent.

 

“Why shouldn’t I? You’re making me sit here in moistness,” Blitzo replied, lifting his chin from his hands. “While you’re touting yourself about in your velvet robes. Bitch.”

 

Stolas laughed as he made his way over to the bed, clearly not offended. He sat down beside the imp. “I simply figured you wouldn’t want anyone seeing you so swallowed up by my clothing, darling. I know how you treasure your image.”

 

Blitzo frowned in confusion. “What? Why would someone else see me like this?”

 

Before Stolas could answer, there was a knock at the door.

 

“Come in!” the prince called, standing and tugging his robe back up his shoulders from where it’d started drooping.

 

One of the grand doors opened, and a middle-aged female imp walked in. She wore a pair of round glasses and spiffy purple waistcoat. A tape measure was draped over her shoulders.

 

“You summoned me, Your Majesty?” she asked politely.

 

“Yes. Here’s your assignment, Jerra,” Stolas said, gesturing to Blitzo with a smile.

 

Jerra, as Stolas had called her, nodded once and quickly hurried over to the closet. She glanced over her shoulder briefly.

 

“Come here, Sir,” Jerra instructed. Startled, Blitzo looked to Stolas for confirmation; the prince nodded and gave him an assuring smile. Blitzo stood and followed the female imp as she threw open the closet doors to reveal the extravagant insides of the large walk-in. Because of its size, over half the closet was empty now that Stella had left the room to her husband. Still, Blitzo thought it was ridiculous that Stolas had so many clothes and other items.

 

Jerra pulled out a series of what looked like white matte boxes from the back of the closet and scooted them to the center. She arranged all seven of them in a circle, putting a medium sized one in the middle and then swirling the rest around that.

 

“Stand here,” Jerra said. She pointed to the middle box with her tail as she fished a notepad and pencil from the inner pocket of her vest. Blitzo hesitantly stood on the platform, still unsure of what was happening. Stolas stood by the entrance to the closet, watching with an amused look on his face.

 

“Arms out,” Jerra said. Blitzo shot his arms out to his sides faster than what was necessary. Jerra didn’t seem to care at all as she whipped the tape measure from around her neck and, stepping onto the tallest platform in order to get to the right height, began wrapping it around Blitzo’s chest.

 

Blitzo glanced up, raising an eyebrow at Stolas. The prince smiled and wiggled his fingers in greeting. Blitzo returned the gesture with a scowl, prompting a sigh from his lover.

 

“You’re getting your measurements taken, darling,” Stolas explained as if it were obvious.

 

“W-well, yeah,” Blitzo replied, flushing as he accidentally caught Jerra’s eyes as she measured his waist, “I get that now. But why?”

 

“‘Why’? Because you have no clothes!”

 

“Yeah, cuz I didn’t bring any? What does that have to—hey, stop fucking feeling me up!” Blitzo curled his lip and bared his fangs at the tailor.

 

Jerra, nonplussed, raised an eyebrow at him from where she was crouched at his feet.

 

“I’m measuring your inseam, Sir,” Jerra said plainly.

 

“I don’t even know what that fucking means! But I didn’t say you could cop a feel!”

 

Jerra glanced over her shoulder at Stolas, who had a hand to the bridge of his beak, pinching there as if he had a headache. He caught the questioning look from the female imp and said, “Blitzy, she’s just doing her job. She is not ‘copping a feel.’”

 

“Well, it certainly felt like it,” Blitzo grumbled even as he crossed his arms, a sign for her to continue. He could swear he saw an almost imperceptible roll of eyes as she got back to work. He still reddened in the face when she returned to finally measuring his inseam, her small hand nearly touching his groin but not quite. Jerra scurried about the platforms as she toiled away, stopping and scribbling down numbers as she took them.

 

“I’ll get right to sewing, Your Majesty,” Jerra announced as she flipped her notepad closed and began once again stowing away the boxes.

 

“Thank you, Jerra!” Stolas called after her as she whisked out the door. He let out a small huff of amusement, putting his hands on his hips. “Always in a hurry, that one.”

 

Blitzo came up behind Stolas and yanked his tail.

 

“Ow!”

 

“Thanks for the heads up, asshat,” Blitzo snapped.

 

Stolas, rubbing at the spot his tail feathers met his back, huffed and replied, “I didn’t know it would be that big of deal.”

 

“I don’t exactly like sudden physical interactions anywhere but the bedroom. And sometimes at work.” Blitzo crossed his arms.

 

Stolas laughed. “‘Sudden physical interactions’? Blitzy, she took your measurements. She’s the royal tailor, not a drill sergeant.”

 

“Still. Coulda warned me. I’m not like you, remember? I don’t get my clothes tailored or handmade or any of that hoity-toity shit.” Blitzo shouldn’t have been this angry and he knew it, but Stolas just did whatever he wanted.

 

The prince picked up on the anger.

 

“Blitzy. I’ve upset you, clearly,” Stolas said slowly. He reached down and gently took ahold of one of Blitzo’s hands, then led him to back to the bed. Stolas sat the imp next to him but left a space between them. A brief fear of Stolas distancing himself lanced through Blitzo’s head, and he scooted an inch closer.

 

“What’s the matter?” the prince asked.

 

“You . . .” Blitzo trailed off, unnerved at himself after his knee jerk reaction. Stolas tilted his head. “You can’t expect me to just know all the fancy shit you like.”

 

“I’m aware of that, but—”

 

“Then why force it on me? As if I can’t dress myself.”

 

Stolas recoiled, eyes widening. “What? Blitzo, that’s not what I meant at all!”

 

Blitzo snarled. The feathered fuck was always ‘not meaning’ something. He let his temper boil over as he continued his tirade.

 

“I get it, I’m just an imp! Maybe you think I shouldn’t be seen by your staff—who are imps, by the fucking way—in your clothing, that I should be half nude to fucking appease you, that you have things ‘tailored’ for me because maybe you want me in some sort of slave outfit—”

 

Stolas set a hand on top of Blitzo’s head. Between his horns, fingers threaded around his spike, cool palm on the heart shaped mark on his forehead. The touch shut the imp up immediately, his words catching in his throat. His eyes darted up to Stolas’ face and saw the genuine concern there.

 

Fuck.

 

Blitzo’s vision blurred.

 

“Blitzy, I think this is really about something else,” Stolas said softly. He shifted closer, his hand running down to cup Blitzo’s cheek.

 

“It’s fine,” the imp sniffled. Dammit, his emotions were all over the place.

 

“It’s okay. Just talk to me?” Stolas tilted Blitzo’s chin upwards.

 

The imp exhaled roughly to dispel his unwanted feelings.

 

“I don’t want you to think I’m not good enough because I’m not like you,” Blitzo admitted begrudgingly. His voice was quiet. “You’ve got all these servants and shit, and they’re like me, a-and you don’t fawn over them even when they know what you do all day.”

 

Stolas tutted softly and stroked over the heart on Blitzo’s head again, hands framing his face.

 

“I don’t care that you’re an imp, Blitzy. If I ever did, we wouldn’t be here. I don’t care about any of our societal differences. I love you for you, and it’s going to take a lot more than not knowing what a tailor is to change that,” Stolas said.

 

“. . . I know what a tailor is,” Blitzo grumbled even as he fell forward, planting his forehead against Stolas’ feathery chest. There was only a hum in response as hands trailed lightly down his back and along his spines. “‘M sorry for yelling.”

 

“It’s alright. I should have told you. I’m just . . . I suppose I’m used to doing whatever I want. I forget that’s not typical for most others.”

 

“I didn’t think you’d really just make me parade around naked, by the way. Or make me wear something slutty just because. I just . . . freaked out.”

 

“Of course. That’s okay.”

 

Blitzo couldn’t keep himself from rambling. “I just want to be what you want. I’m sick of not being enough.”

 

“You are enough. Plenty. More than. Remarkably. Extraordinarily. Exceptional—”

 

“Okay, I get it.” Blitzo gave a tired, amused huff. Stolas trilled above him in response, clearly glad to have provoked something worth laughing at. “You’re so dramatic.” Blitzo pushed at Stolas’ arms and fell back onto the bed with a muffled whump.

 

Stolas slid down, propping his head up on a hand, his other coming up to rest on Blitzo’s chest.

 

“It adds color, though, doesn’t it?” the prince asked with a smile.

 

“Mm. That’s what you think?” Blitzo responded cheekily, tossing Stolas a crooked grin. They shared a laugh at that, and Blitzo enjoyed the feeling of Stolas’ talons digging lightly at his bare skin and the face he made when he was happy. He hated how his heart hammered in his chest because of this stupid horny bird.

 

My stupid horny bird, Blitzo realized abruptly. He must have turned red at that; thankfully Stolas wasn’t looking right at him.

 

“But honestly, Blitzo . . . you mustn’t worry about not being royalty. It’s really not all it’s cracked up to be,” Stolas continued wearily. He sighed softly before ruffling his feathers with a small shiver. “What do you say I put on a romantic movie, and we can snuggle while we watch?” He batted his eyelashes at Blitzo. The imp brought his hand to his chin and pretended to think.

 

“Ooooor,” Blitzo replied with a wide grin on his face, “we put on Spirit again and build a sick blanket fort with all your fancy people furniture?” He looked at Stolas excitedly.

 

The owl blinked once, seemingly stunned by the proposition, but he quickly let that smile return to his face, beaming at his lover.

 

“Sounds wonderful, darling. I’ve never built a ‘blanket fort,’ but I’m sure you’re the expert on the subject, yes?” Stolas asked sweetly.

 

Blitzo shoved himself into a sitting position, tail twitching in newfound excitement. “You bet your ass! I made so many awesome forts when I was a kid; it was one of my siblings and mine’s favorite things to do. Can’t believe you’ve never built one! Rich folk are so fucking boring. Come on, Stol’, I’ll show you how it’s done!” He scrambled off the bed.

 

“Whoa, slow down, Blitzy; you’re still injured, remember?” Stolas’ voice was filled with amusement even as he followed.

 

“I’m getting better, forget about it. But you can do all the heavy lifting.”

 

“Gladly. Now, tell me what to do?”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Fifteen minutes later, the bedroom was transformed into what would surely be any child’s paradise. Blankets and sheets were draped over chairs, shelves, the chaise, and even off the top of the curtain posts on the bed. There were three entrances for easy access to other areas: one by the door, one by the bathroom, and another by the balcony. Stolas had taken the tv from its stand and put it in the ‘main’ area of their fort so they could watch it inside. Blitzo had decorated this space as Stolas finished the outside, making a nest for them to lay in. He had just finished fluffing the pillows when the owl demon poked his head in from the exit closest to Blitzo.

 

“Looks comfortable! And cute,” Stolas cooed as he saw his lover sitting in the midst of the makeshift nest.

 

“It’s not cute!” Blitzo argued, flushing. “It’s just for space!”

 

“Of course.” Stolas gave him a wink as he crawled in. “I put in the DVD; do you have the remote?” He looked rather awkward slinking into the depths of their fort, his lanky body making it difficult. His tail nearly knocked a sheet off a nearby chair.

 

“Yeah, I’ve got it. And watch your little bird ass, huh? Don’t wanna ruin our fort before the fun begins.” Blitzo scooted over to make room for Stolas in the nest, simultaneously pulling the remote out from its hiding spot.

 

“I’m trying, but I am a bit bigger than you, if you haven’t noticed.”

 

Stolas slipped into the nest and let out a small hoot at seeing Blitzo’s lower half.

 

“You were so quarrelsome about staying in your underwear earlier, and yet you still haven’t taken them off,” Stolas commented, his body pressed flush against Blitzo’s. The imp glanced down at his crotch, already growing red in the face.

 

The Spirit menu song played loudly in the background.

 

“W-well, uh, I forgot about them in my blanket fort excitement,” Blitzo admitted. Stolas was so close to him, mouth next to his ear. He was also naked; that wasn’t a shock, considering how often he paraded around the palace with his bird coochie hanging out. It was just, the last time Blitzo had seen Stolas, he’d been robed. And Blitzo had been thinking about horses.

 

“You can definitely take them off now, hmm? It’s just us.” Stolas’ words were low and suggestive as he slipped his hand under Blitzo’s waistband. The thin black underwear did nothing to hide the imp’s growing arousal.

 

“S-Stolas, we’re supposed to be watching Spirit—”

 

“Mmhmm~?”

 

“Um-?”

 

Stolas peeled off Blitzo’s underwear, dragging it down his thighs and leaving it clinging to one of his ankles.

 

“Ah, Stolas,” Blitzo breathed, voice teetering on the edge of a moan as a hand caressed his shaft, “n-not everything has to be horny—”

 

A sudden and very loud, “Dad? I could hear the tv—whoa.”

 

“Fucking fuck shit fuck-!” Blitzo cursed under his breath as both he and Stolas jumped in surprise at the appearance of Octavia at the door. The imp slammed into a sitting position, scrambling for his underwear. Stolas’ hand flew off his cock, face turning red despite there being no way anyone would know what they were doing under the protection of their blanket canopy.

 

“Octavia!” Stolas yelped as he shoved his head from the entrance of the fort. He made eye contact with his daughter as he summoned his robe before exiting and standing.

 

“Uh. I knocked, but,” Octavia said slowly, obviously perturbed. “What is this?” Her eyes flitted over the room.

 

“It’s a blanket fort!” came Blitzo’s muffled voice from inside. He popped out a second later to stand beside Stolas. He was barely visible above the curve of the blankets.

 

“Hey, Blitzo. I’ve never heard of that.”

 

“It’s this!” Blitzo gestured to their masterpiece.

 

“Um, okay.”

 

Blitzo scoffed and put his hands on his hips. “Your dad didn’t even know what one was; I’m not surprised you don’t.” He rolled his eyes. “Rich people.”

 

“I didn’t . . . interrupt anything, did I? I was just checking in on you, Dad,” Octavia continued.

 

“Oh, no, you didn’t interrupt anything!” Stolas quickly assured even as his face flared again. “Blitzy and I were just about to watch a movie.”

 

Blitzo had to refrain from smirking at the owl’s embarrassment. “Yeah. Spirit—it’s about horses. Ever seen it?”

 

Octavia shook her head. “I don’t watch many human movies.”

 

“Lame. Hey, wanna join us?”

 

Stolas perked up, looking down at his lover in surprise. Octavia glanced between her dad and Blitzo.

 

“Uh . . .” she trailed off. She looked uncomfortable.

 

“Oh, yes, Via, join us! It’s more than roomy in our fort. I think it’d be a good time,” Stolas said. “We never did anything like this when you were young.”

 

“You really missed out. Come hang, it’s totally sick inside,” Blitzo added.

 

With both the adults smiling at her, Octavia glanced at the blanket fort. It was intriguing. She’d thought her sense of childhood wonderment was dead and gone, but maybe not all was lost.

 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll watch a movie with you guys,” Octavia finally said. “As long as Blitzo puts on pants.” She couldn’t see his legs, or even most of his torso.

 

But she knew.

 

Blitzo nodded firmly, looking sheepish. Stolas avoided eye contact in the same manner.

 

“My pants should be dry by now, heh. Got caught in the rain earlier,” the imp tittered as he crept away to the bathroom.

 

“Right,” Octavia deadpanned. She raised an eyebrow at her dad, who gave her a bashful smile. “You doing okay?”

 

Stolas’ smile faded. “I’m fine, Via. Truly,” he started, “Blitzo and I decided to, ahem, decided to—”

 

“Yeah, I kinda figured.” Octavia smiled wearily at her dad. “That was the plan, anyway.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

That was the moment Blitzo re-emerged from the bathroom.

 

“What are you guys doing out here, huh? Get in, we gotta movie to watch!”

Chapter 18: Stoke the Fire

“Yeah, it was a good movie.”

 

“Only good? Not great? Not the best movie you’ve ever seen??”

 

“Um. No.”

 

Blitzo’s ecstatic face vanished. Stolas couldn’t help the small chuckle he let out at the imp’s crestfallen expression. He patted Blitzo on the shoulder comfortingly while Octavia merely rolled her eyes.

 

“You’re lucky you’re not eighteen yet,” Blitzo growled, pointing at her with a claw.

 

“Or you’d what?”

 

There was a long pause as Octavia and Blitzo stared each other down. Stolas, eyes wide, was about to intervene when Blitzo suddenly tapped Octavia on the forehead and bolted down a tunnel of their fort, yelling, “You’re it!”

 

It took the two owls no less than five seconds to exchange confused glances before Stolas laughed, “You heard him, Via!” He turned and quickly scrambled down another tunnel.

 

Octavia couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her; it’d been ages since she played a game with her dad, or even played a game that wasn’t on her phone.

 

She followed after Stolas; he’d be much easier to catch in the confined tunnels of the fort. Honestly, she wasn’t sure how he managed to navigate it without knocking it all over with his long tail. But apparently, he was surprisingly hard to catch up with as he scurried along. The fort was big, as big as the room, but the inside was still confined and only a certain size.

 

Her father’s tail vanished around a corner where it forked into three different branches.

 

Okay, why is this fort genuinely impressive? Octavia thought as she randomly picked the middle tunnel. It feels way bigger than it actually is. She saw a flash of crimson and whipped her head toward it. Smirking, she followed, determined to one-up the imp.

 

This particular tunnel ran parallel up the length of the bed toward the nightstand. She slowly peeked underneath the bed; Blitzo’s sharp yellow grin met her from the darkness there, and she laughed as she pounced. He was quick though, and before she could even get halfway to him, he was turned around and on the other side.

 

“Damn, you’re like a snake,” Octavia admitted as she backed out from under the bed. She heard Blitzo laugh maniacally from somewhere on the opposite side of the fort.

 

The princess picked the tunnel that led down the foot of the bed after she circled back to the intersection. She was surprised that she was actually . . . having fun.

 

Between the movie, where she’d laid comfortably next to her dad in the nest, Blitzo on the other side, and this game of tag/hide-and-seek? She’d never known Stolas to play these sorts of games with her; when she was younger, they’d read and draw and do intellectual games of sorts, but not physical activities such as these. Loo Loo Land may have been the only exception, and her mother had always despised it. Every time they’d gone (the handful of times she had begrudgingly come along), she’d refused to partake in any of the food, games, or rides.

 

Stolas, on the other hand, had always loved taking Octavia there. He didn’t ride most of the rides, but he’d always wave and smile whenever they made eye contact when she’d seen him during.

 

But now, here, screwing around with her dad and his boyfriend, she was having a good time? It seemed absurd. Laughable, if she was being even a sliver honest. She shouldn’t even be here in the room, and yet.

 

She was.

 

And it wasn’t terrible. Octavia had not seen her dad this happy in a long time. He’d always been somewhat of a goof (she could hear him giggling as Blitzo shushed him somewhere within the blankety walls), but this was something she’d not seen before. It was almost . . . familial? Parents who loved each other would clearly be happier together.

 

Parents, huh? Hers would never.

 

But one and his affair were apparently willing to go the extra mile. To Octavia, it was a foreign concept.

 

But the crashing of the door being slammed open was not. She nearly jumped out of her skin as the décor on the walls rattled, some falling to the floor with loud thumps, and the owl was on her feet in an instant. She heard a startled hoot from her dad as he too surfaced from the sea of blankets that had now fallen in various states to the carpet. Octavia was aware of Blitzo standing only a meter away from her, much closer to her than Stolas. Her heart raced in her chest, limbs shaking at the sudden intrusion.

 

“Oh, what in the fuck is all this?!” Stella shouted from the doorway. She was visibly seething, her hands clenched into fists and shoulders tensed.

 

“St-Stella! Um, it’s,” Stolas began, or at least tried; Stella was quick to cut him off even if he had managed to come up with some sort of explanation.

 

“This is what you’ve been doing instead of your duties? Seriously? Fucking around with, with this little grunt?!” Stella appeared absolutely disgusted, her face twisted into a deep scowl.

 

“What? No, it was just—”

 

“Stop! Screwing that mongrel is one thing, but letting it near our daughter? Abhorrent! Octavia, get away from it!”

 

The princess glanced over at Blitzo, who had his arms crossed, claws digging into his skin, and a glare so red that Octavia was surprised her mother hadn’t burst into flames as his tail lashed and twitched with barely suppressed fury.

 

“Octavia!” Stella snapped again.

 

“He’s not an it,” Octavia said, and the words surprised her as they flew from her mouth. They had the same effect on her mother as well, for the older demon’s pink eyes widened.

 

“What? Octavia, don’t argue with me. You’re not allowed to interact with commoners like these, and they most certainly don’t need you to defend them.”

 

“I’m just saying.”

 

“You—young lady, get over here. Now.” Stella snappily pointed to the spot next to her, her other hand on her hip.

 

“Oh, stop treating her like a child, Stella,” Stolas said sharply. “Just leave her out of this.”

 

Stella scoffed, feathers fluffing up in indignation. “You’re one to talk. This whole mess in here, some sort of child’s foolish quest? Don’t you dare lecture me on how to raise my daughter.”

 

“Our daughter. Don’t do that.”

 

“Do what?”

 

“What you always do. This whole, ‘Octavia belongs to me’ schtick. I’m tired of it,” Stolas continued, clearly frustrated.

 

“Well, if you weren’t such a terrible father and husband, maybe I wouldn’t—”

 

“Okay, lady, that’s fucking enough,” Blitzo suddenly interrupted. Stella gaped at the imp, clearly about to rip his head off verbally (maybe literally), but he kept talking. “Look, I get that you’re upset that Stolas here likes my dick more, but holy fuck, I thought my employee had the biggest stick up his ass! But no, fucking no one can compare with the massive tree trunk of a fucking stick up yours.”

 

Stella’s face was red with anger and indignation. She sputtered out, “Excuse me?!”

 

“Blitzo,” Stolas said softly, the words edged with warning. The two locked eyes for a fleeting moment; Stolas was clearly hoping for the imp to not fight with Stella.

 

“So how about you let him off the hook, alright? At least he’s happy with me; I’d be sad too if I had to deal with a stuck-up bitch like you,” Blitzo continued despite Stolas’ pleading look, giving Stella the bird with both hands. Behind him, Stolas’ beak fell open in astonishment, his white pupils showing briefly.

 

One of Stella’s eyes twitched. She said nothing for a very long moment. The silence in the room was deafening.

 

“Octavia,” Stella finally said, her voice losing most of its anger and dissolving into fatigue. “Come here, please.”

 

Octavia glanced between her parents, clearly torn. Stolas nodded at her minutely, and it gave her the understanding she needed to pick her way over the fallen blanket fort toward her mother. Stella still appeared tense, her back straight as a rod, but when Octavia approached her, she relaxed slightly.

 

“Come along, Octavia,” Stella said, gesturing to the open door. The princess walked out, followed by her mother. The soft tapping of the ladies’ footsteps faded, and it was only after that did either of the two remaining demons move.

 

Stolas let out a long, exhausted sigh. He took several steps to the bed and collapsed atop it. A handful of feathers scattered onto the bare mattress and floor.

 

“You couldn’t be any more dramatic if you tried,” Blitzo commented as he walked over. He took a good look at his weary lover. Stolas sat quietly on the edge of the bed, eyes downcast.

 

“You okay?” Blitzo asked softly. He rubbed a thumb along Stolas’ knee.

 

“I’m fine, Blitzy, just. Tired,” Stolas replied just as quietly. “I didn’t expect such an interaction. I failed to properly distance our relationship from her presence.”

 

“It’s okay, Big Bird. She’s the one who barged in without knocking.”

 

“Not to mention I’ve upset Octavia as well.”

 

“She was doing fine with us—”

 

“Yet Stella made her feel estranged, as if she had to pick a side. I’ve never wanted that.”

 

Blitzo hopped up on the bed to sit next to him. “It’s not like you made her. This whole thing was fucked from the beginning.”

 

Stolas sighed again. “I wish this was all easier.” He burrowed his head in his hands.

 

“Me too. But hey, we’ll figure it out, right? You’ll talk to your kid, tell her what’s up, and make sure she knows she’s okay, huh?” Blitzo ran a hand up and down Stolas’ back.

 

“Ah, I suppose,” the owl said as he pulled himself up from his hunched position. He looked down at Blitzo. “Thank you for defending me. Even if your way was . . . harsher than I prefer.”

 

Blitzo grinned, absolutely unabashed by his actions. “No problem, babe. Your wife’s gotta chill the fuck out, honestly.”

 

“She has a valid reason to be upset, Blitzo. You are her competition—immoral competition at that.” Stolas ran his fingers through his hair. “Stella is just . . . she’s so hard to talk to sometimes. I doubt she’d let me get a word in during a discussion about you. I just . . . I don’t know. There’d be lots of dodging; that’s the only certainty.”

 

Blitzo frowned. “Throwing things at your spouse is shitty.”

 

“I don’t think she cares, to be honest. I’m more surprised she didn’t throw anything this time.”

 

“Well. Unless it’s in the name of a kink, I’d never throw anything at you.”

 

Stolas smiled, a small laugh escaping him despite his mood.

 

“Thank you, Blitzy. I know you’d never hurt me,” the prince said. He leaned down, and Blitzo met him halfway to slot their mouths together.

 

“It’s getting late, darling,” Stolas murmured after they’d parted. A glance at the open curtains confirmed that statement, the sky turning purple. “Even though this final part was foul, I enjoyed our time together immensely.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Blitzo said with a smile. He found Stolas’ hand and laid his over it, fingers curling between his.

 

“Unfortunately, however, I think this means you must return to your own abode. I must get back to my royal duties tomorrow. I have lots of work to make up.”

 

Blitzo nodded. “Right. Gotcha. I’m sure I’ll have quite a few calls to return myself.”

 

“One being mine.” Stolas caressed the imp’s cheek with his free hand. “I’ll be sure to make time for our usual chat.”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

They both stood, and Stolas fetched Blitzo’s backpack and assorted other items from around the room with his magic, gathering them together to slip the bag over the imp’s shoulders.

 

“That should be all your belongings, my dear,” Stolas said, bending and smoothing his hands over Blitzo’s shoulders. They shared a kiss before the prince straightened up to full height and summoned a portal. “I love you. See you soon.”

 

Blitzo glanced between the portal and Stolas. It felt like his world was again changing in a bad way.

 

“This isn’t a goodbye, Blitzy,” Stolas said with a light chuckle, seeming to read the imp’s hesitation easily. A slim hand traced over the heart on his forehead. “I’m sorry this evening ended so abruptly, but I promise you, it doesn’t change anything.”

 

Blitzo swallowed the nagging feeling of abandonment, allowing Stolas’ words to seep into his mind.

 

“Yeah, I knew that,” Blitzo replied instead, trying and failing to make his voice level. “Love you too. Night.”

 

“Goodnight, darling.”

 

---

 

Loona wasn’t home when Blitzo stepped out of the portal into the living room. He checked his phone for a text, but she hadn’t left him one.

 

He didn’t blame her; he hadn’t even been sure when he’d be back. Blitzo sent her a quick message to let him know where she was before he settled down on the couch to watch tv.

 

The imp’s mind drifted as he flipped through channels. Images of Stolas throughout the last two days came quickly to the forefront. He blushed at the thought of their sexual encounters, feeling a tingle in his lower abdomen, and his heart fluttered in his chest when he remembered kissing the prince and hearing those words.

 

Once again, the thought of I’ve got it so fucking bad crossed his mind.

 

Blitzo pushed himself to his feet, unable to shake the fuzz from his head. He went to get himself a drink from the freezer. Pulling out a bottle of vodka, he snaked a shot glass from the shelf with his tail and poured himself a hit of alcohol.

 

His phone vibrated; Blitzo saw the text from Loona stating she was out with a friend at a local bar and wouldn’t be home until late.

 

Blitzo responded, Don’t b too l8, work tomorrow

 

Loonie: Ugh really? Couldn’t just bone the guy again and give us another day off? 💀

 

Blitzo: No ❤️ ha ve fun, Loonie

 

Switching from that conversation to the group chat he had with all three of his employees, he texted, Meetnig @ 9am tomorrow

 

With that, Blitzo poured two more shots, downing one and then the other in rapid succession. He left the dirty shot glass on the counter and returned the alcohol to the freezer. He padded off to his bedroom, stripped down to his underwear, and flopped onto the bed.

 

Staring at the dark ceiling, Blitzo ran again through his time with Stolas. His mind was blurrier now, stifling most of the disconcerting and anxious thoughts about it all. Stolas moaning and trembling in ecstasy surfaced at the front of his mind, and Blitzo smiled lazily as he slid a hand down the front of his body.

 

He was already half hard thinking about the prince. He slipped his cock out of his briefs with one hand and reached for the nightstand with his other. He retrieved a bottle of lotion and a couple of tissues before closing his eyes and letting his imagination run wild.

 

Blitzo’s brain flicked through images of Stolas riding him. He focused on the way the prince’s hips move, the sounds he makes, the way he goes from a lustful smile to throwing his head back with a cry. Blitzo rubbed over his tip, bucking his hips at the sensation.

 

The Stolas from his horny mind moaned as he bounced up and down on Blitzo’s cock.

 

Fuck. Blitzo pumped his erection hard and fast, one arm draped across his eyes. His toes curled, tail twitched, biting his lip as he worked himself over.

 

‘Oh, Blitzy, I love you!’

 

Blitzo gasped as he came harder and sooner than he expected all over his hand and abdomen. He attempted a few strokes to milk it, but his body quickly rejected that idea. He squirmed at the overstimulation and left his hand on the base of his cock. Warmth dripped down his wrist, cooling rapidly on his skin. After taking a few deep breaths, head still spinning with flashes of Stolas’ touch, the imp took a crumpled handful of tissues and wiped himself off.

 

Blitzo tugged his underwear back up and readjusted his position. He was damp with sweat, but he didn’t even want to bother to get up or take a piss. The only thing he did before he closed his eyes was set his alarm for the next morning. After that, he fell asleep peacefully.

 

---

 

The conference room went silent when Blitzo and Loona walked in. The last vestiges of nervous (mostly Moxxie) chatter between husband and wife cut off. Loona entered first, followed by Blitzo, who had the Grimoire under his arm and an unusually serious looking frown on his face.

 

“Good morning, Sir,” Moxxie said meekly as Blitzo made his way to the head of the table.

 

“Don’t be such a pussy, Mox, it’s not like I’m here to kill you,” the taller imp retorted with a snort and roll of his eyes.

 

“R-right. Well, I’d just like to say—”

 

“Zip it.”

 

“Y-yes, Sir.” Moxxie went red in the face and sunk down in his chair. Millie put a hand on his shoulder but didn’t say anything, carefully watching their boss as he silently set the Grimoire down and erased the scribbles on the whiteboard from the previous week.

 

Blitzo turned around and swept his gaze over his three employees. Moxxie looked nervous, Millie subdued, and Loona indifferent.

 

“So, you guys really had to stick your fucking noses into my business, huh?” Blitzo finally said, breaking the silence.

 

“Would you have rather we didn’t? So you could sabotage I.M.P. and wallow in your own misery?” Loona asked directly, clearly over it already.

 

Blitzo shrugged. “I mean, I’m not. Angry that you wanted to help Stolas and I—it’s really just the shitty way you went about it.” He scowled. “Staging a kidnapping?”

 

Millie quickly spoke up. “We wanted y’all to get together because you wanted to.”

 

“How does that make any sense? You still forced us into a fucky situation.”

 

“Stolas didn’t have to rescue you,” Loona deadpanned. Blitzo fell silent, his lips pressed into a tight frown.

 

“Speak your mind, B. We know you’re upset, and you have reason to be,” Millie said.

 

Blitzo thought for a long moment. “Did you tell Stolas to come get me?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then how?”

 

Millie took the lead in explaining their plan and how it had all gone down. Blitzo listened carefully, eyebrows furrowed. He showed little reaction to most of it, briefly humming at the mention of Octavia’s involvement, but besides that, he stayed quiet.

 

“. . . And that’s when the prince came to rescue you. Like a knight in shinin’ armor!” Millie finished with a beaming smile and flutter of long eyelashes.

 

Blitzo couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that.

 

“An interesting story,” he said plainly. Three sets of eyes watched his reaction.

 

“You’re not too mad, are you?” Moxxie asked. “We only did it to help you guys. M-maybe we overstepped, but doesn’t the outcome make up for that?” He shot a tentative smile at their boss.

 

Blitzo sighed, pinching the bridge of his snout, and said, “Fuck me. You guys really did all that just to get us together?”

 

There was a chorus of yeses.

 

“Fucking—dammit. I mean, fucking Hell, I know why you did it, but the drugging shit was really a bitch move!” Blitzo snapped, pointing an accusatory claw at the others. His anger quickly receded again, replaced by a resigned weariness. Begrudgingly he continued, “But, honestly I probably would’ve done the same thing if had to deal with someone like me. And . . . And I do appreciate that you all cared enough to get help us out. If you hadn’t, I guess we wouldn’t be—” He cut himself off, flustered, as his face turned pink. His workers were very aware of this and all three gave him knowing smirks.

 

“Just. Don’t do it again,” Blitzo finished quickly, crossing his arms. “Or you fuckers aren’t getting your holiday bonuses.”

 

“You give us bonuses?” Moxxie asked.

 

Blitzo froze at the slip. “I was gonna! Er, fuck, will! As long as you don’t fake kidnap me again!” He huffed loudly and relaxed his shoulders. “Anyway. Enough of that serious shit. We’re still in business, bitches, so we’ve got some work to do.”

 

“Hell yeah! Good endin’!” Millie declared. She made to push herself up from her seat.

 

“You’re—wait, that’s it? No screaming, no punches, no firing? You’re okay now?” Moxxie asked before anyone could get up. “Not even blaming me?”

 

Blitzo raised an eyebrow at the smaller imp. “What? You want me to freak out and shove you off the roof or something?”

 

Moxxie shook his head rapidly. “No, no! I was just, eh, expecting a storm, I suppose.” He leveled his boss with a skeptical look.

 

“I suppose you have Stolas to thank for that.”

 

“Bird pussy too good,” Loona ‘whispered’ to Millie and Moxxie, a hand up to hide her mouth moving.

 

“Hey!” Blitzo snapped, earning a barrage of giggles from the bunch. He set his hands on his hips. “That’s not—that’s not the main reason!” He snorted, scowling halfheartedly at them for a moment. “He convinced me to go easy on you all. I was fucking pissed, to say the least. But Stolas, like, explained I should ‘look at your intentions.’” He made air quotes with his fingers, somewhat mimicking the prince’s voice. “So I gave it some more thought and figured you guys were just happily misguided.”

 

Blitzo made eye contact with Moxxie. “That good enough?”

 

“Yes, Sir,” the smaller imp replied, relieved.

 

“Good. Now, as I said, I’m sick of all this emotional shit. Let’s go kill something.”

Notes:

I hope the scenes with Octavia feel okay. I honestly don't know what a healthy child-father relationship is because my dad is a HUGE piece of shit. So she is a struggle for me to write consistently since I have no experience with good male role models. I try to write in some of my own feelings and experiences about my dad/my life, but I don't know if it's coming across in character? There are large differences between our situations.

Anyway, see you all in the next chapter.

Chapter 19: Kiss me Through the Phone

Notes:

Hey, did I mention this story has a lot of sex? Because this story has a lot of sex.

Like, there's barely a sliver of character development here, it's just them being nasty. Very nasty. The plot will continue some day. XD

Also, you know how in episode 6 Blitzo calls himself Daddy more than once? Yeah. Sorry for this.

An obnoxious scream startled Blitzo away from his work. He accidentally jerked his pen across the paper he’d been writing on; he huffed in annoyance but reached over to answer his phone because he knew what that ringtone meant.

 

“Hey, Stolas,” Blitzo greeted as he set his pen down and allowed himself to lean back in his chair.

 

“Hello, Blitzy,” came the response, though it was lacking its usual zest.

 

“Something wrong?” Blitzo propped his booted feet up on his desk.

 

Stolas sighed, “Not anything specific, just weary. This past fortnight has been lonesome. It’s far too long to go without seeing your face, and I miss your touch.”

 

“Y-yeah.” Blitzo blushed, thankful no one could see him as he struggled to reciprocate (not because he didn’t feel the same way, but because vocalizing his feelings, particularly those of affection, was still difficult).

 

“Yeah?” Stolas prompted. “Anything to say, Blitzy?” His voice was teasing.

 

Blitzo sank down in his chair, feeling red hot. “M-miss you too. Stupid bird.”

 

Stolas tittered with amusement. “Oh, I can imagine you are turning the most delightful shade of red right now, hmm? I wish I was there to take advantage of it.”

 

“Shut up, you weirdo!” Blitzo found himself scowling at nothing. “Anyway, when aren’t you gonna be busy?”

 

Another sigh from the opposite end of the receiver. “Unfortunately, I don’t know. Not even a full week away, and twice as much to do when I get back. It’s ridiculous how many times I’ve had to placate demons I truly don’t give two shits about. Assure them I’ll not go AWOL again or not answer their call. Ugh. Absolutely annoying.”

 

“Sounds lame.”

 

“Yes, quite. I find myself beyond bored with all the politics. And I’ve rarely had a quiet moment to myself. Always doing a favor here, favor there to get back into good graces.”

 

“What’re you doing right now?”

 

“Ah, well, now I’ve actually found, despite all odds, an hour to myself.”

 

“A whole hour, huh? Lucky.”

 

“Quite.” Stolas was silent for a moment. “You are at work, I presume?”

 

Blitzo flicked a paper football he’d made across the room where it bounced against the rim of the trash can and fell to the floor.

 

“Uh, yeah, I am,” the imp replied. “Was just finishing up some plans for our latest hunt. Actually, we should be leaving here soon, or else we won’t be able to stick to schedule.”

 

“Oh,” Stolas said, sounding dejected, “I was hoping to, well, maybe this is selfish of me, but—” He cut himself off briefly. “Hoping you would come over and ravage me?”

 

Blitzo quirked an eyebrow. “Stolas, we talked about this. I can’t just drop everything to come and dick you down.”

 

Stolas gave an affronted pout. “But Blitzy, you don’t know how awful it is to be doing all this hard work and never get a reprieve.”

 

“I mean, kinda.”

 

“Well. You know what I mean. Besides, I’m lonely!”

 

“Stolas . . .”

 

“And stressed out, on top of it. I could use some relief, something to ease the tension.”

 

“You’re gonna have to wait for this dick. You’re not the only one who’s busy, ya know.”

 

There was an exaggerated sigh. “You’re sure you can’t spare just a few minutes?”

 

Blitzo pinched the bridge of his snout. “You’re being kind of annoying here, Stolas.”

 

“It’s hardly my fault. I miss getting rawed by your—”

 

“Dammit, bitch, cut that shit out!” Blitzo snapped. “Can’t you just, ya know, pet your own cat? Audition your own finger puppets?”

 

“Are these euphemisms of some sort?”

 

The imp rolled his eyes. “I happen to know you have a whole box full of dildos. Why don’t you just use one of those?”

 

Stolas huffed, “Are you telling me to go fuck myself?”

 

“I mean . . .”

 

“Pleeeeease, Blitzy? Just a quickie?”

 

Blitzo sighed heavily. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at all interested. But if he gave in, then Stolas would have the upper hand. And the thing about having to leave soon was true, after all. However . . .

 

“If,” Blitzo said, resigned, “if we have a quick round of phone sex, will that scratch your itch? I need to finish planning, and the others will be expecting to leave any minute.”

 

“Oh? Oh, yes, yes! I’ll take anything,” Stolas said hurriedly. “Ooh, phone sex? I’ve never done it before!”

 

“Really?” Blitzo was puzzled. “All the time you spend crying and moaning like a bitch in heat into my ear over the phone, and you’ve never had phone sex?”

 

“I talk a big game, Blitzy, you know this. Now, since you suggested it, why don’t you start? Show me how it’s done~?”

 

Blitzo glanced around his office in a quick search for inspiration. He knew what Stolas liked, of course, but how to translate that into something that could motivate him over the phone.

 

What am I doing, Blitzo berated mentally, he’ll think anything’s sexy. Doesn’t take much to get his motor revving. I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t already soaked.

 

“Okay. You’re alone, right? In your room?” Blitzo asked, dropping his voice lower.

 

“Hmm? Yes, yes, alone in my room,” Stolas responded, sounding intrigued.

 

“What’re you wearing?”

 

“Just my usual attire. I still have—”

 

“Take it all off. First your cloak, your hat, then your vest, then your pants. But leave those little panties I know you’ve got on.”

 

There was no response for a moment; Blitzo smirked. He could tell Stolas was taken by surprise at the comment.

 

“Okay, almost completely naked,” Stolas said. “Now what, big boy?”

 

“Stroke a finger over your panties. You’re already dripping, I bet,” Blitzo continued, grinning impishly all the while.

 

Stolas let out a soft whine, presumably from touching himself.

 

“You are? Ha, knew it. Rub your little cunt for me,” Blitzo said. “Feel good?”

 

“Yes, Blitzy,” Stolas replied, voice high.

 

“Get your chest of sex toys out.”

 

There was movement as Stolas heeded the imp’s commands. After a few seconds, Blitzo prompted, “Got it?”

 

“Mmhmm~”

 

“Perfect. That vibrator still around? Turn it on.”

 

Blitzo could hear the buzz as Stolas did exactly that.

 

“Press it against yourself,” the imp continued. Stolas let out a soft moan the next moment. “Fuck yeah. You’re so hot and wet for me, aren’t you? Just soaked. Getting your nice panties all dirty.”

 

“B-Blitzo,” Stolas moaned. “It isn’t enough-!”

 

“Hold your fucking horses. I say when and what you do. For now, get on your stomach and stick that sexy little ass in the air.”

 

“Ooh, Blitzy, I want your cock inside m—”

 

“Did I say you could speak? Close that beak of yours. You better have that ass high.”

 

The sound of fabric rustling came over the receiver. Blitzo could hear Stolas panting softly.

 

“Tail up, bitch. If I were there, I want to be able to see your sopping hole from the door. Now, are you in position?”

 

“Yes, baby,” Stolas responded.

 

“Good. Since you’ve done so well, you can tug those ruined panties down. Slowly. Bare your cute ass for me.”

 

Stolas did as he was told, letting his chest and shoulders take most of his weight as he reached back with both hands to pull his underwear down. He shivered and clenched around nothing as cold air hit his slit.

 

“Fuck, that’s so hot. I hear can how desperate you are. You want Daddy to fuck you?” Blitzo asked in a low voice.

 

Shit. Did he just-?

 

Fuck. He’d let that one slip.

 

During his relationship with Verosika, she’d teased him with the title. That was where Blitzo had discovered he really liked being called Daddy. He hadn’t been called that by anyone in quite a while, and he certainly hadn’t been planning to ask Stolas to call him that (right now, anyway).

 

This shouldn’t be the place to start it, but shit, it was so much easier to ask (or let it slip) over the phone.

 

“Oh, fuck yes, Daddy!” Stolas cried out. Blitzo was nearly blown away by how excited the owl sounded.

 

Nearly not applying to his cock, however. The erection pressing at the zipper of his pants begged to be released.

 

Blitzo looked down at it with dread. Having one-sided phone sex with Stolas was one thing but jacking off to it in his office when he was supposed to be prepping for a hunt was another.

 

Maybe I can just ignore it—

 

“Daddy, please, fuck me!” Stolas moaned loudly into his ear. Blitzo swore the seams on his zipper creaked. He really should know by now what an effect Stolas had on him.

 

“Relax, Princess, you’ll get it good in just a second,” Blitzo said as he quietly unzipped himself and pulled out his cock. He hadn’t planned to touch himself, but there was no going back now. “You can use your magic to move anything, yeah?”

 

“Yes, my telekinesis is very powerful.” Stolas, despite his arousal, didn’t mind using the question to brag a little.

 

“Okay then, I want you to spread your legs as far as you can, then take the red dildo and slip that cock up your tight little bird pussy as deep as possible.”

 

There was another short pause as Stolas slid his legs down and out to either side.

 

“Ooooh!” the prince whined as he pressed the silicon cock into himself. “Fuck, you fill me so much-!”

 

“Yeah?” Blitzo asked breathily, his free hand now wrapped around the base of his cock. “Let’s start slow.” He could imagine himself there, stretching open the bird’s tight cunt. As silently as he could, he began stroking himself. Stolas moaned highly, and Blitzo was sure he could hear the slick sound of the sex toy moving in and out.

 

“You like that, Princess?” Blitzo asked. He tried to keep his voice low and unbothered despite the sensation in his lower half.

 

“Yes, yes, but—” Stolas cut off with a breathy shudder—“fuck, I need more!” Gripping a pillow tightly with both hands, he thrusted the dildo faster into himself.

 

“You better slow the fuck down, or Daddy ain’t gonna let you come.” Blitzo’s voice was low and reprimanding.

 

Stolas let out a soft whimper but managed to once again slow down to his earlier pace despite how his body shivered and yearned for more. It was almost embarrassing how aroused he was despite Blitzo not actually being physically present.

 

“Good. Listen better from now on.”

 

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

 

Holy fuck, Blitzo could not believe how hard he was hearing Stolas call him that. He had to apply pressure to the base of his cock to keep himself from blowing his fuse too early.

 

“That’s good to hear, Princess. Want me to fuck you faster?” Blitzo purred. His hand worked slowly up and down his erection.

 

“Yes!”

 

“I’m gonna need more than that.”

 

“Mm, please, fuck me! Fuck me so hard I can’t walk straight!”

 

Blitzo let out a bored sounding hum. Stolas whined in frustration, clearly desperate for more, and the imp grinned mischievously.

 

“Blitzy, Daddy, please, I need your thick cock to ruin me, destroy me!” Stolas pleaded. “You know I love it. Please, please, I need it, Daddy!”

 

Blitzo bit his tongue as his grin widened. “Well fuck, baby, if you need Daddy’s cock that bad . . .” He thumbed the tip of his erection, barely refraining from hissing in pleasure. “And you’ve been mostly patient. Hmm, yeah, I’ll fuck ya real good. Speed up.”

 

“Satan, yes!” Stolas wasted no time in upping the speed and strength behind his magic to slam the dildo inside his hole. The sudden increase in movement made him howl in pleasure. His grip tightened on the pillow, claws digging into the fluff.

 

“Yeah, fuck, that’s good. You’re so hot. Look at your sexy little ass, taking my cock so well,” Blitzo praised even though he obviously had no eyes on the bird. He was still jerking himself off, the sounds Stolas made fueling his fantasy.

 

Stolas was moaning like a cheap whore, eyes squeezed shut and talons clenching at the ends of his feet. Blitzo could hear the lewd squelching of the sex toy thrusting in and out of the prince. Clearly, the phone was on speaker, laying unattended on the bed somewhere.

 

“I can tell you’re close, Princess,” Blitzo said once he recognized the signs of Stolas nearing orgasm. “Gonna cum on my dick like the slut you are?”

 

“O-oh, fuck, yes, always!” Stolas groaned back. The dildo was slamming in and out of his soaked cloaca with fervor, edging him closer and closer to climax. “I’m almost there-!” He let out a strangled moan as his body tensed in preparation.

 

Blitzo sensed the coming flood and quickened his own pace.

 

“Cum for me, Princess! I wanna hear you scream,” Blitzo hissed into the phone. He was grinning like a madman, sweat beading on his forehead as he pumped his cock in time with Stolas’ toy.

 

“Ah, f-fuck, Daddy!” the prince howled. He ground his crotch against the bed and arched his back, hilting the dildo inside him with one final push.

 

Stolas calling him Daddy while cumming was so hot, Blitzo probably would have jizzed his pants even if he hadn’t been jerking off. But here he was, gasping behind his work desk as he shook with pleasure. The sounds Stolas was making were heavenly—well, as close as murderous demons could get. The prince was sighing and moaning lightly as he rode out his high, no doubt grinding and squirming against the sheets to milk every ounce of self-gratification from it.

 

After several moments of catching his breath, Blitzo moved first; he had made a mess because of his lack of self-control. Worth it though. He fished out a box of tissues he kept in a drawer of his desk and quietly went about cleaning himself off.

 

“Oh, Blitzy, that was so hot,” Stolas piped up, sounding satisfied. “I never knew masturbation could be so arousing. And the way you commandeered it all—so sexy!”

 

“Heh, yeah, glad you liked it,” Blitzo replied, somewhat distracted as he tucked himself back into his pants.

 

“That was fun. We should do it again—but not too soon. I’d rather have your real cock filling me up.” Stolas let out a trilling purr. “But I have to wonder why you’d rather spill all over your hand then fire it into me.”

 

Blitzo choked. “I—”

 

Stolas laughed. “Didn’t think you could hide that from me, did you, Blitzy? I’ve heard you orgasm quite a few times, and you are typically quite demure about being heard. Didn’t think you’d get hard listening~?”

 

“Sh-shut up!” Blitzo went red in the face. “Not my fault you moan like such a skank!”

 

That drew another laugh from the prince. “Don’t be so reticent, Blitzy! I think we’re far past such white lies, hmm?” Stolas hummed in amusement. “I’m not judging your techniques, darling. You know it doesn’t matter what you do; you’re a sex god to me.”

 

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Right. Sure.”

 

Stolas hummed. Neither said anything for a long moment.

 

“Blitzy,” Stolas finally started, “next week is the full moon again already.” It was clear from his tone that he was unsure how to broach the subject.

 

Blitzo hesitated to respond too. His eyes darted around his office, from the Grimoire thrown on the chair next to the door to the pinned polaroid of him and Stolas on the whiteboard.

 

“Ooookay,” Blitzo slowly said. “You, uh, you upset about that?”

 

“Oh, Blitzo, you know I’m not trying to insinuate anything.” Stolas sighed softly. “It’s just . . . my previous ignorance regarding the full moon. It hurt you deeply when I made our relationship transactional like that, intentional or not. I would like to avoid dredging any of those feelings to the surface.”

 

“. . . Right.” Blitzo paused. “You still need the book though, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, that’s correct. I was not lying about needing the Grimoire on the full moon. I just made it about myself before. I don’t want to force you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

 

“It’s fine. I know why you did it.”

 

“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact it hurt you.”

 

Blitzo shrugged to no one, falling again back in his chair. “I guess. But we’re all cool now.”

 

“Are we?”

 

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

 

“Blitzo,” Stolas said with a sterner tone. “I’m attempting to make sure I do this right this time around.”

 

“What?” Blitzo asked.

 

“If I need the Grimoire anyway, I . . . I’d love to spend a passionate night with you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“This is why I was trying to be delicate, Blitzy. I don’t want to have sex if you feel as if it’s just a mandatory exchange.”

 

“It wouldn’t be.”

 

“No, it wouldn’t, but would you feel as if it were? I don’t want you to feel obligated—”

 

“Hey, dumbass,” Blitzo interrupted, a small smile on his face, “I want to be there. It’s not fucking for the book; it’s fucking because we . . . like each other.” He flushed at Stolas’ laughter.

 

“Aw, Blitzy, that’s so sweet. I’m glad you feel the same. This could just be our routine. A scheduled date night each month,” Stolas said with a smile. “No pressure, no obligations besides love.”

 

Blitzo’s blood rushed loudly in his temple; the word, despite him having said it more than once, still ignited a purr in his chest and set his head spinning. He swiveled around in his chair to face the wall because the room seemed to be doubling in size.

 

“Y-yeah, totally. I’ll be looking forward to it,” the imp replied genuinely. “You have, uh, plans?”

 

“Me too, darling,” Stolas said. “And hmm, maybe~? I’ll give it some thought and let you know.”

 

“Sounds good. Make it kinky. Anyway, I better get going. I’m sure the others are wondering what’s taking me so long.”

 

“Absolutely. Talk to you later. I love you, Blitzy~”

 

“Bye, love you too.”

 

“Oooooohh!” came Millie’s voice from behind him suddenly.

 

Blitzo startled, jerking around in his chair to see his employees at the now open door. Millie and Moxxie each wore wide grins, eyebrows raised in a teasing manner. He heard Stolas laugh from the phone before the call ended.

 

“So sweet, B!” Millie cooed.

 

“Y-you better shut your cock holsters!” Blitzo shouted, face burning. “You didn’t hear shit!”

 

“Riiiiight,” Moxxie tittered. “But we’ve been sitting here waiting for you for like ten minutes.”

 

Blitzo blanched. “Outside the door?”

 

Moxxie cocked an eyebrow. “In the main area. You said we were leaving in five.”

 

“R-right, yeah, sorry, Stolas, uh, he—” Blitzo dusted himself off, giving his lower half a quick onceover to make sure he didn’t have any suspicious remnants from his phone call. “He wanted to talk, and you know how he is.” He stood and fumbled with his plans as he made for the door.

 

“Of course. He sure likes talkin’ to you,” Millie teased as she grabbed the Grimoire. “Don’t get so flustered, Blitzo! Nothin’ wrong with lovin’ someone.” She slapped him on the back before tossing the book to Loona.

 

“That’s not—never mind.”

Notes:

told you xD

I've wanted to write them having phone sex so long that it's kind of embarrassing

Chapter 20: You're More Than I can Take

Summary:

The Harvest Festival is here...

Notes:

Wow, happy one year anniversary of this fic! I'm finally back. Again!

If you follow me on Twitter, you'll know why this took so long. If you're one of the many who don't, well, long story short, I had a lot of personal losses and issues, spent some time in the psych ward, and even now I'm kinda still on the road to destruction because if there were a prize for self-loathing, I'd have it! Very cool, my mental state. I love trauma so much; it just makes every day harder than the last. :)))))) /s

But I want to keep writing and being creative because if I'm not, then I'm doing nothing. And I do enjoy it, I'm just a constantly sad boi. But anyway, knowing there are a lot of you out there that love this story makes it easier. Genuinely, thanks for reading.

Also, since I'm sure you've all seen the 2022 trailer, this is no longer even really based on canon. There are some similar elements, and I'll continue to try and reflect that, but since Blitzo came onto Stolas first, this is kind of all thrown out the window lol

The full moon came and went with Stolas donning an over-the-top gown, and Blitzo dressed as a vampire. The imp scaled the balcony, toting the book as always, and laughed at his date flung across the bed.

 

Stolas promptly played the damsel in distress at the vampire sneaking in through his window in the dead of night. He let out a woeful moan and pleaded Blitzo not to kill him or his baby who was apparently asleep in the next room.

 

Well, this vampire was not one to turn down a deal.

 

What ensued next involved lots of biting, sucking, and thrusting while Blitzo desperately attempted to keep the billowing ruffles of Stolas’ dress away from between his legs. The imp couldn’t deny he’d ogled the sight of feathers threatening to burst from the top of Stolas’ corset where he’d shaped them to simulate a bosom.

 

By the end, Stolas’ neck and inner thighs were peppered with hickies and the occasional puncture wound where Blitzo broke the skin. After that, they’d shared a glass of wine and went to bed, their naked bodies pressed together, and tails intertwined.

 

The next full moon, Stolas ordered a pizza.

 

Blitzo ate the pizza at work with the help of his crew.

 

Stolas ate the sausage later that night and went to bed full.

 

The next time they made love, it was a little under a week until the full moon.

 

Stolas smiled as Blitzo burned the ropes binding his wrists.

 

“So glad you weren’t too busy to spend an earlier night with me,” Stolas said. He chirped softly, content as all-be as he slipped down to cuddle against the imp’s bare chest. There, he swirled a finger against Blitzo’s warm skin.

 

“Yeah, well, fuck my clients,” Blitzo said with a grin. He took another drag off the cigarette before turning it around, allowing for Stolas to do the same. The owl blew a ring straight up that dissipated over Blitzo’s head in a faux halo.

 

“But I’m your favorite?”

 

Blitzo rolled his eyes with a smirk, looking down at the prince. “Of course.”

 

“I thought so.” Stolas hummed smugly, ruffling his feathers.

 

“What was it you’re doing again? You know, instead of banging.”

 

“The Harvest Moon Festival, Blitzy. In Wrath, remember? I do a charming little ceremony using the book, I oversee their games and such, and voilà! All done, wrapped in a bow. It’s quite a nice time; so simple and repetitive.”

 

Blitzo scratched his chin. “Wrath, huh? M and M are from there. I’ve been there once or twice, but never talked to anyone. Bunch of fucking rednecks.”

 

“You say your employees are from there, yet you insult their people?” Stolas asked, amused.

 

“C’mon, Moxxie is clearly an exception. And Millie? Well, she’s certainly got the go of a rednecked chucklefuck, but she’s different,” Blitzo explained.

 

“Whatever you say, darling. Oh, and speaking of your employees, why don’t you all come with me? It would be great fun! And I could guarantee you all,” Stolas paused and dipped himself under the comforter and peeked out from between Blitzo’s legs with a mischievous grin, “special access.”

 

“Hmm . . . I could see if they wanna go. It does sound like it could be fun.” Blitzo rolled the idea around in his head, ignoring the bird hovering over his crotch. “As long as we’re not just your bodyguards.”

 

“Of course not! I’m simply inviting you all to a relaxing fun filled day of fun!” Stolas beamed. He straightened up, pulling the blanket around himself and cozying up. “Join me, will you? It’d be even better if you were there.”

 

Blitzo smiled. “I’ll ask the others.”

 

---

 

Blitzo was not afraid to admit that seeing Striker for the first time made his heart beat a little faster in his chest. The other imp was attractive in a ‘snake bit your throat and killed your stupid ass by suffocating you with a smile’ kinda way, all sharp edges and fangs and hypnotizing eyes. Truly, there were many different types of imps in Hell, but Striker was in the top ten hottest for sure. The fact he came riding in on a stocky Hell horse didn’t hurt things, either.

 

“. . . the prince is our boss’ booyyyyfrieeend~!” Millie finished in her typical, sing-song dramatics. Blitzo’s attention was turned from side-eyeing Striker’s profile to the woman’s declaration.

 

“Millie-!” Blitzo hissed. She fluttered her eyelashes at him teasingly.

 

“Boss, huh? Oh, so you’re the bold imp to start his own killin’ biz,” Striker cut in, seeming to barely acknowledge Millie’s other reveal. Blitzo quickly feigned nonchalance and put a hand on his hip, turning to face Striker.

 

“Yeah, well, if you’re good at somethin’, you should probably capitalize,” Blitzo said.

 

“Not many imps start businesses on their own. That’s pretty impressive, sir.”

 

Blitzo was thrown by the compliment; he really hadn’t expected anything from this other imp besides an attractive face. Pretty usually meant stupid down here.

 

“Oh? Yeah? It is—I-I-I guess—I guess it is, isn’t it?” And fuck, if Blitzo didn’t feel his face burning from the sudden attention. His eyes flit back and forth, going from stealing looks at Striker’s lithe form to anywhere else because he didn’t want to be that obvious.

 

“So, you even conned that ditzy blueblood into gettin’ you to the surface?” Striker asked as he reached out to firmly shake hands.

 

The thrill of touching hands—Striker’s hands were smaller, more bony and long fingered than his own big and strong ones—was soured rapidly by the words.

 

Conned that ditzy blueblood?

 

Well, fuck, maybe—maybe at first? And ditzy—no, I agree with that, Blitzo said to himself. He kept his smile up despite his inner turmoil, looking into Striker’s swirling gaze. Shit, what the fuck-?

 

“Er, well, it’s long and complicated, but—” Blitzo cut himself off. “But um, we, ah, kinda fuck a lot, but it’s not, not that shallow. I mean—yeah, sometimes.” The imp realized he was getting very sweaty over this. He quickly shut up, giving Striker a nervous grin and chuckle that were desperately trying to convey something else. He could hear Millie and Moxxie snickering behind him.

 

Striker’s smirk cracked open to become more of a snaggle toothed grin. It looked as if he were about to say something, but thank Satan that Joe interrupted with a comment about the Pain Games to get Blitzo the fuck out of the conversation.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Dealing with Stolas flustering him in public wasn’t exactly Blitzo’s choice of fun. Yes, okay, they were, like, boyfriends now, but having the prince call him “Blitzyy~!” and “that sexy little one over there” in front of a large crowd of dipshit rednecks was making him hot under the collar. The smirk Striker sent him from his peripheral vision was especially embarrassing.

 

And it was clear the crowd was already uninterested in Stolas’ speech, but the owl was oblivious as fuck. Thankfully, it was a rather short declaration before they were dismissed to begin the Pain Games. They passed in a whirlwind of homoerotic tension and bruises. But admittedly, Blitzo had enjoyed Stolas gawking at him the whole time as he and Striker battled it out for the best. Knowing the prince was cheering him on from the sidelines gave him some extra pep in his step.

 

The games still ended in a tie, however.

 

“The winners are . . . Striker and,” Stolas said, rushing the words in anticipation of the next, “my darling Blitzy!” His tone was high and excited, a very real surge of emotion radiating off the avian.

 

“Say my fucking name right, dick,” Blitzo still hissed as he stomped on stage in embarrassment. Fuck, he wanted to impress Striker, get the striking (pun intended) imp on his team of assassins. Put the cowboy’s skills to good use instead of leaving him to waste his life tending pigs and shit.

 

Stolas heard the snapped words and, instead of seeming abashed, merely blew a kiss at Blitzo and gave him a teasing smile.

 

Your ass is mine! the imp mouthed, making a small but sharp gesture with his hands. Stolas tittered and cocked his head in a ‘can’t wait’ kind of motion.

 

Tease.

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Blitzo could not find Millie and Moxxie anywhere. He’d wandered around the farm, even asking Millie’s family if they’d seen either of them. Thinking they might have just gone to the festival without him (he had been admiring Bombproof for quite a while), Blitzo merely shrugged and retired to the farmhouse. He didn’t really want to attend the ceremony of Stolas doing . . . whatever he was going to do with the book. He could see most of it from the top floor anyway, and he’d rather avoid the embarrassment that came with Stolas’ public flirting by standing in the crowd.

 

Blitzo didn’t think anyone was upstairs when he ascended to the top floor.

 

He froze in place at the sight of Striker crouched down with a blessed rifle very clearly scoped in. Blitzo’s heartbeat quickened as his mind ran through what this meant.

 

A blessed rifle could kill anything in Hell permanently. They were the only things besides the angels themselves that could wound or even kill Hell’s royalty.

 

Stolas was royalty. The only fucking royalty for miles.

 

Rage swiftly took over; Striker didn’t know he was there. Silently, Blitzo whipped his pistol from its holster before aiming and cocking it simultaneously. Striker inhaled sharply and twitched.

 

“Excuse me, what the fuck?” Blitzo snarled. His teeth were bared, glistening sharp points in the setting no-sun’s light.

 

Striker stood and turned to face him in a single smooth motion. “Bliiiitzo!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms out, rifle forgotten and leaning against the window frame.

 

“I thought you were still at the ceremony!” Striker continued, still grinning that fucking snake grin.

 

“You thought I wanted to stand around with a buncha hillbillies excited about corn ‘n shit with a thirsty owl on stage?” Blitzo snapped. His glower didn’t slip, eyes burning dangerously.

 

“Huh. And now you seem disappointed in me.”

 

Blitzo’s lip curled in a half smirk that conveyed disgust. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of someone I offered a job to about to off the guy I’m fucking six ways to Sunday behind my back.”

 

Striker snorted. “Blitzo, come on. You give a shit about that disgusting, rich, pompous Goetia? Not because he lets you use that book, is it?” He began to slink forward. Blitzo didn’t respond, keeping a careful eye on him as he encroached.

 

“You and I are superior to most of our kind. You’re so above sucking off that privileged prick, begging for scraps, and serving bitter sinners. We could be slaying Overlords,” Striker continued, circling Blitzo like a hungry shark. His striped tail rattled eerily in the quiet of the room.

 

“Why struggle to run a business that’s rigged against you? When you could partner up with me,” Striker hissed lowly, now in Blitzo’s personal space, his hypnotic spirals blown wide and gazing directly into the other’s eyes, “instead of running back to that snobby Goetia for a meaningless fuck over and over again.”

 

An involuntary shudder ran down Blitzo’s spine as he was pinned against the wall.

 

“Starting by killing the one who treats you like a plaything,” Striker finished. He was so close, their noses almost touching, and Blitzo could have sworn Striker was tilting his head.

 

Their mouths connected in a rush, hard and fast and exhilarating. Blitzo gave Striker all he had, forcing his tongue into his mouth and licking his teeth. All the tension from before hit in the best moment possible. Striker shoved back, not content to take a backseat. He kept Blitzo trapped with his back against the wall. Blitzo could tell the smug bastard thought he’d won.

 

The click of another gun cocking immediately broke their kiss. Striker froze, stiff as a board, and Blitzo pulled back with a breathless grin.

 

“You’re just as fucking easy as I’d thought you’d be,” Blitzo growled, his pistol aimed at Striker’s chest. He saw the furious glint of those yellow eyes directed at him before Striker looked over his shoulder. Moxxie was there, blessed rifle in his hands and poised to fire.

 

Striker didn’t even take his eyes off Moxxie, but Blitzo felt the sharp curve of a blade pressed against his spine.

 

“Fucker,” Blitzo snarled softly. He tensed as the blade dug deeper into his skin, not cutting him because of his shirt but a warning nonetheless.

 

In a flash, Striker slammed Blitzo’s arm to the side. His pistol went off, and Blitzo’s eyes went wide with alarm as the bullet shot directly at Moxxie. The smaller imp blocked with the rifle, growling after his astonishment wore off.

 

“Oh, you daddy fucker!” That was the last straw. Blitzo went fucking feral, biting down hard on Striker’s bicep. The snakelike imp shrieked in pain, and Blitzo punched him away with a brutal elbow to the face.

 

But Striker was quick to recover and quicker still to get in two hits and block Blitzo’s, disarming him and then launching him at Moxxie. Blitzo’s significant weight and size difference was more than enough to take out the smaller imp, and the two fell to the floor.

 

“You dumb fucks lost the upper hand fast, huh?” Striker gloated, the rifle back in his hands and pointed directly down at them. Blitzo seethed from his spot, blood pumping and tail twitching.

 

“It’s a damn shame, Blitzo,” Striker continued, “we might’ve actually made a good couple.” His tongue flicked out at that last word, accompanied by a small and smug hiss.

 

Fucking snake bastard, Blitzo cursed.

 

“In your wet dreams, you honky-tonk chode!” the imp shouted as he slammed a foot out. He hit Striker directly in the shin, eliciting a loud hiss as he lost his balance.

 

In a split second, Blitzo was on his feet and had a boot in Striker’s gut to send to reeling backwards. He hit the wall, briefly dazed, and had no time to shield himself before Blitzo was going at him with a lamp and a war cry.

 

The porcelain shattered against Striker’s head. Blitzo got in another whip with his tail before Striker dodged his next punch, leaving his large fist smashed in the drywall. They exchanged blows, both of them bruised and bleeding, but ultimately Blitzo got the upper hand and slammed Striker into the corner. He was pushing himself back to his feet, ready to keep fighting, but a warning shot from Moxxie was enough to keep him still.

 

Striker began to speak, gold tooth flashing, “I still think it’s embarrassing, relying on a weak little—”

 

Moxxie fired another round, this one much closer than the last.

 

“Finish it,” the smaller imp dared. Wisely, it seemed Striker didn’t want to push that angle. Instead, he turned his gaze on Blitzo, who had picked his gun from the floor and had it pointed at his head.

 

“Whatever you think you’ve fuckin’ got, you’re wrong,” Striker hissed. Blitzo scoffed. “Believe me, no one gives a rat’s ass about you.”

 

Blitzo snarled, ready to put an end to the scheming bastard when his phone rang. The tension broke suddenly, all their edges frayed to the point that they all startled at the obnoxious sound.

 

Striker was fast as a lizard running for cover as he kicked Blitzo’s gun out of his hand and bolted for the door. Moxxie whipped around, ready to fire, but Blitzo was caught in the middle of a stumble from where Striker had shoved him out of the way.

 

“Maybe you’ll get me next time,” Striker said smugly, already halfway out the window, “Blitzy.”

 

With that, he was gone, leaving Blitzo wounded, concerned, and confused as he gazed out the window.

 

Stolas’ thin figure was moving about onstage as they wrapped up the ceremony.

 

All Blitzo could think as he watched the prince, was

 

Fuck.

Notes:

Hope you think the changes are interesting~~ ;)

No, this isn't Blitzo/Striker but dammit, let me have my homoerotic not-so-sub subtext! And I skimmed some full moons because I think y'all deserved some plot after waiting so long XD

Chapter 21: I Can't Keep This Down

The phone call had been from Stolas. Blitzo had missed it, of course, in their scramble to off Striker, and even though he could see the prince from the window, he didn’t know if he wanted to talk to him yet.

 

Because he wouldn’t know what to say.

 

Did Blitzo tell him? Tell him that someone was trying to kill him?

 

But who was it? Had it merely been Striker alone, taking a chance at a podunk celebration to kill the prince, who he’d known would have no security? Or was Striker just the bullet in the gun, hired to take Stolas out by someone higher up?

 

Blitzo knew they were probably many demons who’d love to end the prince’s life just because, but would of course never be able. It was just the way Hell worked. And clearly, Striker knew about the book, and Stolas and Blitzo’s deal, so it wouldn’t be crazy to say other demons knew, too. That itself would be a huge reason for getting rid of Stolas.

 

The thing was, Blitzo didn’t know. He knew nothing about Striker’s desire, his own goals, anything. The assassination had been planned, that much was clear. But besides that?

 

Should he even bother telling Stolas? Striker would presumably be impossible to find. He’d already disappeared so fast, even after Blitzo was at the window in the next two seconds.

 

Slithery fucking bastard.

 

Telling Stolas seemed like a waste. It seemed like a way to just get the prince strung out with worry, and they would be able to do nothing about it.

 

“Sir, are you okay?” Moxxie asked, breaking the silence that previously had been just his and Blitzo’s strained breathing.

 

Blitzo turned away from the window, his eyes still locked for a few more moments on the prince who was now appearing more agitated as he idled on stage.

 

“I’m fine, Mox,” the taller imp replied gruffly. He rolled his shoulders and slipped his pistol back into its holster. “Are you?” He stood in front his employee.

 

“I-I’m okay, but Millie is hurt,” Moxxie said. He glanced at the rifle he held, still in disbelief over the fact he had it. Blitzo followed his eyes down and scowled.

 

“Keep that close to you until we leave.”

 

Moxxie nodded firmly and slung the rifle across his back, tightening its strap before they left the room. Together, they hurried downstairs to find Lin and Joe already tending to Millie’s wounds.

 

Blitzo made a quick inquiry about how she was feeling and then a jab about how they both had a common enemy now (that being bear traps). Millie smiled at him thinly, obviously in pain, but looked happier.

 

“Where are you going?” Moxxie asked as Blitzo scurried past the van and into the driveway.

 

“Gonna go find Stolas,” Blitzo replied hastily. Moxxie frowned, glancing between his boss and his wife, then took off after the former. Blitzo stopped immediately and said, “Please don’t bring that near him.”

 

Moxxie skid to a halt on the gravel and looked up at his boss with wide eyes. “The gun?” he clarified.

 

“Yeah. I don’t want—I don’t want it there.” The words sounded plain and childish, even to him, but Moxxie nodded and took a step back.

 

“I’ll just, uh, stay here then, with Millie. We’ll be waiting for you.” Moxxie turned and headed back toward the farm, leaving Blitzo to go on.

 

The imp pulled out his phone.

 

“Blitzo!” Stolas shouted far too loudly into the receiver as soon as it rang once. “I didn’t see you at the ceremony, and then—”

 

“Where are you?” Blitzo interrupted. He was still hurrying toward the now finished ceremony, but he couldn’t see the stage yet.

 

“I’m backstage. I tried to call you—”

 

Once again, Blitzo cut him off.

 

“I know; stay there, I’m coming to you.”

 

“Blitzy, something happened, didn’t it? I can feel it,” Stolas murmured.

 

Blitzo didn’t know what to say.

 

“Be there in a few.”

 

With that, the imp hung up and tucked his phone back into his pocket. His hand fell on the gun at his side, worrying the grip. He pushed past anyone who got in his way, earning more than a few disgruntled snaps, but he didn’t care.

 

“I say, I say, Blitzo, you cannot go in there,” Wally Wackford warned amiably as said imp walked right up to the curtains that concealed the back of the stage.

 

Blitzo didn’t have the patience for this. He barely gave Wally a glance and continued his stalking forward. A cane flicked out in front of him, barring his entry. That stopped Blitzo this time, his eyes burning as he swelled with annoyance.

 

“No can do, buddy boy!” Wally once again admonished. “His Majesty is off limits to the public.”

 

“I’m not the public, nor am I your fucking buddy, so get the fuck outta my way,” Blitzo growled. He was twitching with bundled up energy.

 

Wally flashed him a toothy grin. “Doesn’t change anything, Blitzo!”

 

Blitzo snarled and grabbed Wally’s cane, fully prepared to throw the impeding salesman out of his way, but a feathered head poking itself through the curtains stopped that notion.

 

“Blitzy! There you are. Wackford, no need for this, he’s with me,” Stolas said, shooing the imp away with his hands. Before Wally could say anything else, Stolas nabbed Blitzo by the arm and dragged him inside. It was a nice little area, with a plush chair and a side table. Stolas’ head brushed the ceiling, so it was probably cramped for him but not for anyone else.

 

“You’re hurt,” Stolas pointed out when they were finally alone. “What happened out there? I heard gun shots in the distance; was that you?” He blinked large eyes full of worry at the imp.

 

Blitzo rubbed his nose on his forearm, coming away with a crusty streak of black. He’d forgotten, in his hurry, to clean up. Now his (and a little bit of Striker’s) blood was half dried all over his face and clothes.

 

“I’m fine—you should see the other guy,” Blitzo joked without a smile as he scrubbed at his nose with the palm of a hand.

 

Stolas smiled wanly before pulling Blitzo’s hand away from his face.

 

“Let me help you with that, my dear,” the prince said. With a twirl of his fingers, a handkerchief was there, and he swiveled to dip it in the glass of water sitting on the table. Stolas brought the now damp cloth up to Blitzo’s nose and gently wiped the inky blood from his features. Besides that, he was sporting some bruises along his jaw and brow, and Blitzo could feel his ribs and back aching, but nothing seemed to be broken. As if sensing his weariness, Stolas motioned for the imp to take the chair; Blitzo wanted to reject the offer, but comforting hands and being dead on his feet didn’t help that. He all but collapsed in the chair. A moment later, Stolas was rubbing his shoulders from behind.

 

Blitzo couldn’t help the soft groan he let out from the bird’s ministrations. He relaxed further into the seat.

 

“There we go, Blitzy,” Stolas soothed. He kneaded between the imp’s shoulder blades. “Now . . . please, tell me what happened. Your injuries are not from the games.”

 

“It was . . .” Blitzo froze. He’d already decided he wouldn’t say anything about Striker trying to kill Stolas. It was unnecessary grief. At least until maybe they caught Striker (if that was even possible). Would withholding this information be considered lying? Would it only help the enemy?

 

Fuck, I don’t know!

 

“Striker just wanted to cause trouble,” Blitzo spat out hastily, his claws gripping hard enough onto the ends of the armrests to rip the fabric. “We got into a little, uh, tussle.”

 

Stolas took his hands off Blitzo’s shoulders and stepped around the chair to kneel in front of him. He had a perplexed look on his face, clearly dubious of his story.

 

“‘Little tussle’? Blitzo,” Stolas said firmly, “you’re not telling me the truth.”

 

“I-I am!” Blitzo’s heart thumped nervously in his chest. “Striker was being an asshat, like, wanting to ruin the festival, so Moxxie and I had a sparring session with the guy. Things got heated. But I won, ya know, because I’m so awesome, and here I am.” He plastered the most convincing smug smile on his lips and quirked an eyebrow in the same manner to (hopefully) get Stolas to drop the subject. But even with his charm, the prince still appeared doubtful.

 

“Besides,” Blitzo drew the surest way to throw the bird off the mark and change the subject, “it doesn’t really compare to what you’re gonna get later.”

 

Stolas stiffened, flushing lightly at the words. He let out a small hoot of surprise.

 

“Daddy’s not happy with you embarrassing him at the festival. Daddy thinks you’re in for a punishment later.” Blitzo let his voice drop headily and his grin sharpened at the edges.

 

“Ah, I’m, um. Daddy,” was all Stolas could manage in response, red in the face.  

 

Blitzo chuckled, “Mmhmm. You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Because you wanted a reaction outta me, right, baby?” He let a claw trail along the underside of the prince’s chin.

 

Stolas shuddered, his thighs pressing together. It was adorable, really, Blitzo thought amusedly. Just a few words and he had the bird wet already.

 

“But it’ll have to wait for later, Daddy’s tired,” Blitzo said, leaning back in the chair. Stolas trilled lowly in what could be called disappointment, but he smiled and set a hand on the imp’s knee.

 

“Of course. You’re sure you’re alright?” he asked.

 

“I told you, I’m fine. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

 

“Alright. But you know you can talk to me about anything?”

 

“Yes, Stolas.” Blitzo couldn’t help the weariness that settled into his voice. “Everything is fine.”

 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

 

Everything was not fine.

 

The drive back to Imp City was tense. Blitzo’s hands worried the already worn steering wheel, his claws threatening to tear the leather. No one else seemed as on edge as he was. Fuck, why weren’t they? Blitzo felt like he was going to explode from the anxiety squirming in his gut.

 

Did he do the right thing? Was not telling Stolas the right move? Did he just endanger the prince even more? Maybe Striker was following them as they drove, ready to follow behind Blitzo to get to Stolas. The thought made the nervous imp constantly glance at his mirrors. The roads were empty, lonely, dusty.

 

Blitzo kept checking, just in case.

 

The rock music playing lowly in the background didn’t help either. He hadn’t been able to stand turning it up, so he left it quiet. Loona was on her phone, and Millie and Moxxie were in the back. Neither of them was talking, but out of the corner of his eye, Blitzo could see them making small gestures and glances.

 

Maybe he’d just signed Stolas’ death warrant by not telling him. Fuck, Striker had had that rifle; what else could he have? Was the rifle even his? Or was it his employer’s loan?

 

All the possibilities ran through his head. It was driving him crazy. He squeezed the wheel tighter; leather creaked under his whitening knuckles. His arms shook.

 

“Sir.”

 

Blitzo flinched. His eyes immediately snapped to the rear-view mirror; Millie and Moxxie were looking right at him, gazes worried.

 

“We’ll get him, B,” Millie said with a small yet tenacious smile. He knew who she was talking about.

 

“I-I know that!” Blitzo sputtered. “I’m just, uh, fucking thinking about . . . something else.”

 

“You can say you’re worried about your boyfriend, you know,” Loona chimed in with a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

 

Blitzo sunk down in his seat, embarrassed. He knew it was stupid, but it still flustered him when anyone mentioned it. Not that he was embarrassed of Stolas by any means; in fact, it was the other way around. If either of them had a reason to be embarrassed, it was Stolas.

 

“Oh, you’re still shy about that? C’mon, you two are cute!” Millie said.

 

“Stooop,” Blitzo groaned. “I’m not fucking worried about—”

 

“Liar!” Moxxie yelled quickly. Blitzo pouted.

 

“You told him about Striker, right?” Loona asked.

 

Three sets of eyes landed on him. Blitzo began to sweat.

 

“. . . Right?” Moxxie prompted after several seconds of silence.

 

“No,” Blitzo whispered. He hunched his shoulders at their collective reactions, which were mostly disbelief.

 

“Why not? Doesn’t he deserve to know?”

 

“He should have a heads up.”

 

“Don’t keep secrets from your significant other.”

 

Blitzo shook his head fiercely. “I know, I fucking know! But what the fuck is telling him gonna do? We don’t even know where Striker is! Telling Stolas right now is, is a fucking shit move, alright?”

 

There was a lapse of silence. Blitzo ran a hand over his head, threading his fingers through and over his spikes. He tapped a beat on the steering wheel.

 

“Okay, what? What the fuck are you all doing?” Blitzo finally snapped after the lull became too much for him. “If you have something to fucking say, say it.”

 

It was another few seconds before anyone spoke.

 

“You want to protect him,” Moxxie said levelly, “that’s honorable, Sir. But we have Striker’s rifle, he can’t hurt Stolas without it. And maybe his Majesty could help us find him.”

 

Blitzo rubbed his face. “That’s the thing, Mox. I don’t fucking know if we can even find the snake bastard. He vanished in like two damn seconds after jumping out the window. He’s clearly highly skilled in that area. And who fucking knows? Maybe he’s not alone, maybe he’s got more holy weapons.” He sighed as he took the exit to Imp City, finally leaving the dry and desolate landscape of Wrath behind them. “We can’t underestimate him. And I don’t want to bother Stolas by adding this to the mix. Guy’s already got a lot going on, with his wife and kid and going through this whole . . . thing.”

 

That got a couple of strange looks.

 

“With me,” Blitzo added as if they hadn’t already understood that.

 

“So, we’re not goin’ to hunt down Striker at all?” Millie asked with an air of disappointment.

 

“It’d be a lost cause.” Blitzo shrugged helplessly. “And we can’t focus on that; there’s still a business to run. Catching that slithery dipshit isn’t gonna pay the bills. Although it would bring me immense satisfaction to hang his fuckin’ head on my wall.”

 

“But what if he gets to Stolas next time? He nearly had him. You walking in on him was purely accident,” Moxxie pointed out. “If we at least told his Majesty, he could up his security.”

 

Blitzo grunted, thinking. Moxxie was right; if not for the fact he’d ended up walking into the room where Striker had been literally scoping in on Stolas’ head, the prince very well could have died.

 

Right under Blitzo’s nose.

 

“But if the whole reason Striker was there, to kill Stolas, he would have known he wouldn’t have security. Stolas mentioned to me beforehand that he liked the festival and that he felt safe there,” Blitzo said, brain trying to put the pieces together.

 

“Is it a well-known fact the prince doesn’t bring guards with him?” Millie asked.

 

“I don’t know. But any regular moron would have to assume yes because almost every royal or high up demon has some kind of security wherever they go.”

 

“That’s true. A lot of royals have bodyguards who don’t stand out. One might never notice them,” Moxxie added.

 

“Not to mention the fact that Striker was workin’ at my family farm for several weeks before the festival,” Millie continued.

 

“So it was planned, that’s obvious. Honestly, it was mostly because of us that Striker couldn’t follow through.”

 

“. . . That’s right,” Blitzo muttered. He perked up suddenly. “It was only fucking us! Think about it. Stolas would have been there alone if he hadn’t invited us. Easy target, blessed rifle, Stolas dead. But you, Mox, you ended up finding Striker’s gun because he kept harassing you. You two fought him, he locked you up, and I didn’t go to the festival because Stolas was being, well, Stolas.”

 

“Striker must have known that Stolas wouldn’t have bodyguards. Not many demons tussle with Hell’s royalty ‘less they have a death wish,” Millie said.

 

“And there’s no way an imp gets that kind of firepower on their own. Any holy weapon found is immediately scooped up by Overlords,” Moxxie said. “Most of them end up auctioned off at exclusive events.”

 

“So, if we’re going off the assumption that Striker is an assassin for hire, that would mean whoever told him had no idea that we would be there,” Blitzo continued. “We ruined their attempt. There was clearly some plan in place that didn’t involve us being there.”

 

“. . . Or you being there, Sir.”

 

Blitzo made eye contact with Moxxie from the rear-view mirror.

 

“Me? Like just me?” the head imp clarified.

 

“Exactly. If not for your connection to his Majesty, none of us would have been there.”

 

“Right. Cuz all his flirtin’ flustered you away from the ceremony, and that was why you found Striker,” Millie said. “I don’t think anyone coulda foreseen that.”

 

“Fuck, so . . . so maybe this is all my fault?” Blitzo stuttered.

 

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Moxxie said ominously.

 

“You really think his wife would order a revenge killing?” Loona asked, finally contributing to the conversation (mostly because she had paid little attention to the whole affair at the festival).

 

“She is a crazy bitch,” Blitzo said, “I know she hates my fucking guts like no tomorrow.”

 

“Accusin’ someone of hiring a hitman to kill their cheatin’ husband is no light matter,” Millie warned. “She does have motive, I have to admit. But just because the prince is sleepin’ with someone else? I’m pretty sure it’s a known fact that many royals have fuck buddies for miles.”

 

“Wait, what about the book? Could this just be about that?” Loona asked. “Kill Stolas, take the book?”

 

“Hmm, she does have a point,” Moxxie said.

 

“But they’d still need information from inside regardless of who wants him dead,” Millie said, “which means . . .”

 

“It’s almost certainly an inside job,” Blitzo groaned. “So, who the fuck could we even trust to protect Stolas? They could all be in fucking cahoots.”

 

“Sounds like you might need to talk to your boyfriend again, B.”

 

“Dammit, I hate when you guys are right.”

Chapter 22: Caught Up

Notes:

It's been over a year, but I'm BACK with an (admittedly short) update! I've rewritten the beginning scene of this chapter like six times, but it was only after the most recent episode came out that inspiration struck for returning. We're doing some time skipping again.

This chapter is really to set up for the next because that'll be the 'trip.' I'm making some changes to it to make it more in line with this fic's canon, but I hope you will all like it. :)

After deciding that rushing back into work so soon after getting injured was stupid (lesson learned), Blitzo sent his employees on their way home upon reaching Imp City. They all needed some rest, Millie most of all, so there would be no work for the next few days.

 

Blitzo slept like shit that night. He stared up at the ceiling, hands folded on top of the blanket pulled up to his chest. His scrapes and bruises were far from the reason sleep eluded him for so long. Images of a bullet meant for Stolas’ forehead flashed in his mind, spraying black blood across the backs of his eyelids.

 

The next morning came, and Blitzo slept in. He awoke feeling groggy and still exhausted, so he downed a couple cups of coffee and spent the rest of the day watching reality tv with Loona.

 

When Stolas called to check in, Blitzo told him everything was fine; he was just recuperating. The prince believed him and wished him well but couldn’t talk long because he and Stella were entertaining guests.

 

Blitzo idled the next couple days away. He said nothing of Striker to Stolas, avoiding the topic of the festival as much as he could. Stolas was curious, but ultimately not too concerned as Blitzo put up a convincing unaffected air.

 

“It’s all over, we’ll probably never see that jackass again,” the imp had said with a shrug and a wave, settling back against the pillows with his arms behind his head.

 

“Well, you’re probably right,” Stolas admitted with a slight air of reluctance. He leaned his head on Blitzo’s chest. A short pause followed.

 

“But . . .?” 

 

Stolas sighed. “I just worry about you. I know you and your team can take care of yourselves and are very capable, it’s just . . . it makes me want to watch you all day in case you ever find yourselves in need of assistance.”

 

Blitzo chuckled and patted Stolas’ feathery head. “Don’t worry about us. We’ve been in worse scrapes! In fact, did I ever tell you about that time Millie and I got tied to a stake and nearly sent back to hell by this batshit crazy broad?”

 

“Um, no, I don’t think you have.” Stolas perked up, equal parts curious and disturbed.

 

“Well then, lemme give you the incredibly hilarious rundown . . .”

 

And so Blitzo had regaled that adventure to Stolas, and they’d spoken no more of the festival. Instead, they’d begun entertaining each other with stories from their lives.

 

The loss of interest in Striker’s actions was a relief to Blitzo. Yes, he’d been persuaded briefly to tell Stolas about Striker by his squad, but that hadn’t lasted long. The doubt had won.

 

It had won because what if Blitzo told him, and Stolas blamed him and got rid of him. Because surely his own life meant more to him than an imp could.

 

This thing they had, it was fragile (not as fragile as it once was, but fragile nonetheless); Blitzo wanted to protect it. He wanted to cradle it in his hands, shelter it from the storm like a precious flame.

 

He was not about to let Striker get in the way of that.

 

Regardless of who hired him, Blitzo would figure it out and punish them. And he’d do it without risking Stolas.

 

But Blitzo, what if by not telling him, you risk his life further? the little voice in the back of his head niggled at him.

 

Blitzo refused to allow it any space to grow. He’d made his decision and was sticking to it. Let Stolas be blissfully unaware. Blitzo would protect him.

 

---

 

“Okay guys, great work! Let’s get back to our extraction point,” Blitzo said to his imp employees. “But first, lemme just grab a snack from this bozo’s fridge; I saw he had pudding cups, and I’ll be damned if we’re getting underpaid for this job and not stealing anything.” He loped across the blood-spattered living room to the kitchen.

 

“I hope we’re about to renegotiate the terms of this contract,” Moxxie huffed. He stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly at the pull of a strained muscle. “When our client told us he wanted this dude manually strangled, he didn’t mention he was 250 pounds and lifted seven days a week.”

 

Blitzo scoffed. “Client seemed like a real jackass. I dunno if we’ll get anything more out of him, especially considering the, uh, death didn’t come from our hands exactly.” The imp’s sharp eyes glanced over the bloody scene. “But fuck me, even with eleven stab wounds, he didn’t go down easy. Fucking no way we were about to strangle this asshole.”

 

“Well, we got our proof ‘a death. Let’s just get outta here,” Millie said. “I could use a nice homecooked meal right about now.”

 

“Right, right, all that in good time,” Blitzo muttered absentmindedly as he rummaged around in the fridge. “Ugh, coconut water, green beans, nonalcoholic beer—ooh, pudding! Wait . . . oh, COME ON! Sugar free?! Can’t this guy have any fucking fun?!” He grabbed a pudding cup and slammed the fridge door so hard that it rattled.

 

Moxxie rolled his eyes. “Come on, Sir, let’s get going. I have no doubt the neighbors heard all the commotion.”

 

Blitzo opened his mouth wide and squeezed the entire pudding cup onto his waiting tongue. He then looked over at Moxxie, swallowing his treat.

 

“It’s fine! Nobody gives a shit in the city. Someone could literally be murdered, screams and everything, and the neighbors wouldn’t even think twice until the landlord came knocking about his missing rent.”

 

Moxxie sighed, “Whatever. Can we at least go for our own sakes?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go. Come on, Mills.”

 

The trio exited the messy apartment via the window. From there, they jumped rooftops, clinging to windowsills and railings as they made their collective way to the alley where Blitzo told Loona to wait for his signal. Above their destination, Blitzo clambered down a gutter pipe before stretching out to grab onto an adjacent fire escape.

 

He found himself in a dumpster after the gutter broke free from the building.

 

“Oh, shit! God dammit!” the imp sputtered as he hauled himself from the garbage. Millie and Moxxie leapt down far more gracefully and watched their fumbling boss. From behind them, a red glow filled the alley.

 

“There’s Loona; c’mon, Mox,” Millie said. She turned and made her way toward the portal.

 

Moxxie watched as Blitzo angrily attempted to shake off a used condom stuck to the bottom of his boot. “You’re being awfully loud right now, Sir; why don’t you hurry it along?” he huffed.

 

“Why anything, Mox? Don’t be such a snob!” Blitzo snapped back, irritated. Straightening his lapels with a snort, he glanced around his employee and could see Loona and Millie waiting for them. Moxxie merely scoffed and turned to walk in that direction.

 

Blitzo had only taken a step after him when he felt his metaphorical hackles rise. He stopped in place and immediately shut his mouth. There was movement from behind him. The glint of something silver made his eyes widen.

 

“Get down!” Blitzo shouted. At the same time, he flung himself at Moxxie, tackling the smaller imp to the ground. Something whizzed between his horns. The human reloaded his gun. Blitzo barely had time to think what the fuck before there was another human on their other side, blocking their access to the portal.

 

“Close it, Loona!” Blitzo shouted. With the same breath, he dodged a projectile from the woman’s rifle. “You fucking—”

 

He was cut off by something hitting him in a sudden rush. The net enclosed his entire body and carried him forward, sending him tumbling to the ground from the momentum of the weight. He yelped and heard a similar sound from Moxxie, but he couldn’t see if he’d also been snared through the cover of the dense netting.

 

“Moxxie!” Blitzo howled, furiously fumbling against the heavy trap, all boots and elbows. On his back, he lashed out with his claws, but the fabric was woven with metal fibers. He groped for his pistol and began shooting. He could hear commotion on the other side, the sounds of Moxxie hissing and humans yelling.

 

Bullets tore a hole in the net big enough for Blitzo to get his hands through. There was the sound of metal shearing as he ripped it open. He immediately had to duck as Moxxie went flying over his head. Blitzo swore and leapt after his employee, whose legs were wrapped together by a length of wires with metal balls on the ends.

 

“A fucking bola?! You’re shitting me!” Blitzo complained as he quickly hauled the dazed Moxxie over his shoulder. He slammed behind the dumpster for cover as another slew of darts hit the bricks beside him. He scanned the alleyway for an easy way out, but the humans were blocking his path to the fire escape.

 

“Come out, come out, ya little rats,” the man called. “We’re not gonna hurtcha! We just wanna talk to ya.”

 

Blitzo took a steadying breath and leapt from his hiding spot, bolting for the next closest alley. The woman, who had been using a set of trashcans for cover, jumped into view and swung the butt of her rifle at Blitzo as he ran by. It nearly caught him in the face.

 

“Fuck you!” Blitzo snarled and spun, whipping his tail across her face. She let out a shout and went sprawling into an adjacent wall. The other human yelled angrily. Blitzo hauled ass down the alley and into the next but was devastated to see he’d reached a dead end. He could scale the building, but he’d have to make sure he didn’t drop Moxxie, who was still restrained and half conscious.

 

Swearing under his breath, Blitzo hurriedly maneuvered Moxxie onto the ground. He was trying to think, but the panic was making his brain short circuit. The sound of footsteps grew nearer.

 

Blitzo scruffed Moxxie, biting onto his collar with his sharp teeth, and leapt at the wall of the building. There was a gutter running up the length of the side, and as he climbed, he hoped to Satan it wouldn’t break before he reached a window. It creaked under his weight but held. Using it as an anchor rope, the imp scrabbled up as fast as he could.

 

Come on, come on! Blitzo willed. His jaws ached from his hold on Moxxie, his hands cramped from his grip on the gutter, his boots struggling to find good holds on the bricks. He heard the humans talking to each other down below, but he was nearly at the lowest window. He could reassess there; he could do this!

 

A blaze of electricity coursing through his nervous system had Blitzo howling.

 

The two imps hit the ground with pained groans. Blitzo struggled to gain control of his body and shield Moxxie. He bared his teeth, spines lifting off his back. The two humans approached slowly, guns at the ready.

 

“It’s even uglier up close,” the woman said, wrinkling her nose.

 

"Yeah, no kiddin’,” the man agreed.

 

“Back off, you tuxedo wearing fucks!” Blitzo shouted furiously. He reached for his gun with a shaky arm. He didn’t even get his hand around the grip when the world went white and then black again.