Work Text:
“Blitzø… I think so very highly of you. I didn’t realize you think so low of me.” Stolas croaked, his voice strained as he struggled to keep it from shaking. “Goodbye, Blitzø.” The prince said, his usually gentle voice heavy with sorrow, he looked over his shoulder as he let the offending tears flow down his white faceplate, cerise red eyes glowing with sheer anguish in the darkness of the ballroom they had once played so happily in, all those years ago.
Blitzø felt his heart stop, all the anger dissipated from his body as if the fire had been doused by a bucketful of ice-cold water. It all finally dawned on him, hit him like a ton of bricks, actually, the sincerity with which Stolas had spoken, the way he had oh so carefully chosen his words– knowing the bird, Blitzø guessed he had even practiced the unfortunately timed speech he had crafted.
He could fix this, he had to fix this, Blitzø wasn’t going to let Stolas become another notch in his belt of people he had hurt.
“Stolas, wait! I’m so–” Blitzø reached out, he needed to touch Stolas, hold his hand and get him to calm down and just fucking listen , but before he could get to the bird, he was teleported.
“What… The… Fuck?!” Blitzø yelled at the sky as he stood outside of Stolas’ palace. He couldn’t let it end like this, absolutely not, but first he needed to gather his thoughts and chill the fuck out for a goddamn second. There was just so much to unpack.
So he breathed, and he paced.
Blitzø walked in circles as he went over the dumpster-fire he had been thrown into. The deal was off, he had an Asmodean crystal and he could now legally access the human world to continue his business– whether or not the Sin of Lust would agree with his practices was a problem for future-Blitzø to solve, Fizz could probably help him sort things out with the big guy.
The issue at hand was a sobbing owl, alone in a palace that never looked more lonely and depressing. Blitzø took a breath, this was a lot to process and he didn’t have much time if he wanted to nip it in the bud.
As hard to believe as it was, Stolas cared about him, truly and wholeheartedly. He confessed his feelings and Blitzø had brushed it off as roleplay? Yikes, that definitely must’ve hurt , the Imp told himself. Sure, it had made total sense in his head at the time, he had been caught completely off guard, and it wasn’t like Stolas had never surprised him with a scene before– even though they had never involved romance-play in the bedroom, the prince was nothing if not creative. Still, Blitzø could understand why Stolas would have taken it as a rejection.
Next in his list of mistakes was the yelling. And the door-kicking. And he definitely didn’t need to call Stolas an asshole, that had been his anger talking, not him- but Stolas didn’t know that, did he?
Blitzø stood by most of what he had said, the prince didn’t get to just do as he pleased, he couldn’t just lord over him and dismiss him like a servant, not if he really wanted something genuine between them.
But now Blitzø was free.
Did he want that? To be free? The golden chain around his neck was gone, faded into the ether. That's the thing about shackles though, they hold you down, but they also keep you safe from having to make a choice.
He could now do whatever he wanted without fear of Stolas’ reaction and having the book taken away, destroying not only his business but the livelihoods of his friends and family. Which meant he didn’t have to let this go, he was allowed to make Stolas listen to him, consequences be damned, and besides, there was no staff there to stop him.
Blitzø took a deep breath, reminded himself that he wasn’t the one being rejected here for once, and for the first time since he was a child, he walked through the front doors of the palace, and took off running down the lavish halls.
He ran back to that ballroom where they had once laughed under the sparkly chandelier, back to the prince who bowed to a lowly Imp like himself, the same one who had called him his first ever friend– he ran back to Stolas as fast as his feet could take him.
Stolas, the only one who always laughed at his jokes, commented on his photos, always ready with a compliment, and asked about his day like he actually gave a fuck.
Stolas, who looked at him like he had hung up the damn stars he was entrusted to read, who was always so happy to see him, who made Blitzø feel like he wasn’t a freak, or a disappointment, like he was actually worth something.
Stolas, with his bright, eager eyes, soft feathers, and warm smile. Beautiful, nerdy, precious Stolas.
Stolas, who Blitzø found crying, sobbing, curled into himself on the floor, exactly where he had stood when he said goodbye to the Imp, as if he thought it was the last time. Blitzø froze. He had surely made Stolas shed tears before, but only when he had been overwhelmed by the pleasure the Imp was giving him– fuck, he had looked so very pretty when he cried back then , calling Blitzø’s name over and over, almost like a sinful prayer.
Now, he was shedding the same tears, calling the same name, but it didn’t make pride swell in Blitzø’s chest– quite the opposite really, Blitzø felt like darkness was enveloping his heart, painful and acidic.
The voice in his head made him laden with guilt and uncertainty, telling him to turn away and leave. That this was what he did to people who got too close, he made everyone’s life worse, destroyed everything he touched– Blitzø shut that shit down before it could crush his resolve. This was different, Stolas wasn’t Verosika, he wasn’t like anyone else in Blitzø’s past, and he couldn’t leave the owl feeling like this when he knew, for once in his miserable life, that he could actually do the right thing and not screw it up.
Blitzø took a deep breath and calmly walked towards Stolas, approaching him carefully, not wanting to startle or trigger him again. “Stolas, I’m not done talking.” Blitzø’s tone was gentle and measured, he got down to Stolas’ level on the floor, legs crossed, staying within arms reach, but not forcing contact.
He knew trauma when he saw it, and there was something to the way Stolas reacted to his harshness before that screamed of someone who suffered abuse, and Blitzø had a guess or two of where it stemmed from. The owl in question whipped his head, speechless, he looked at Blitzø like he didn’t understand what was happening, unsure whether or not to be afraid.
Blitzø offered him a small quirk of his lips, his gaze intentionally soft, hoping to ease the tension before he began. “I’m sorry for yelling and calling you names, you didn’t deserve that. I’m not here to tell you off anything like that, I was just… surprised before and I just reacted. It doesn’t excuse the way I spoke to you, but I just needed a minute to think. You have to understand, I really wasn’t expecting any of this.” Stolas was still quiet, still crying, but it seemed Blitzø’s words had the desired effect of helping the owl lower his guard a smidge, realizing he wasn’t going to be screamed at and berated.
“You said you wanted me to stay, right? Well, here I am. I want to stay and I want to talk about this, but you can’t just portal me out when shit gets hard, okay? I’ll do my best not to raise my voice, but you have to listen to me, too. Can you do that for me, pretty bird?” The nickname Blitzø had only ever used during sex slipped before it could be helped, but he knew Stolas liked it so it worked out fine. The prince nodded and slowly turned towards him, still hugging his legs to his chest in a protective position.
“Thank you.” Blitzø smiled at him, gently offering his hand, a bid to form a physical connection that would hopefully reassure the owl as they navigated what would certainly be a difficult conversation. Stolas’ eyes flitted nervously between Blitzø’s own scarlet irises and the outstretched palm, but he took it and Blitzø held his hand in both of his, it felt so fragile that Blitzø was reminded that his bones were actually hollow.
“Good, you’re doing great, Stols.” Blitzø squeezed his hand and took a deep breath, now it was his turn to bare his soul, and wasn’t that just fucking terrifying? So much for keeping it light and focusing on the sexy stuff instead . He reminded himself, once again, that Stolas had already admitted that he cared for him, there was no rejection in the horizon as far as he could see it. For now, that would have to be enough.
“I… didn’t mean to dismiss your feelings earlier, I just never thought you could actually feel anything like that for me. I kept reminding myself that it was favors for favors, transactional, but… if I’m being honest, it hasn’t been like that to me for a while now. After that shit show at Ozzie’s I was convinced you only wanted sex, so when you said I didn’t have to come over on the full moon I took the easy way out so I didn’t have to see you and deal with my own feelings. And then after you got hurt I--” Blitzø swallowed the knot in his throat, he couldn’t lose the tenuous grip he had on himself right now, this level of vulnerability was already hard enough for him, he did not need to add his own tears to the mix.
Blitzø took a breath and forced himself to keep going, although he had to look down at their joint hands, gently stroking Stolas’ delicate knuckles to avoid his piercing gaze. “Fuck… I felt guilty for not saving you myself, okay? That’s why I didn’t visit you in the hospital and kept ignoring you, I just couldn’t look at you knowing I could probably have done something and… Maybe you wouldn’t have been hurt as badly.”
Blitzø bit his lip and looked away for a moment, he felt his cheeks heat up as his heart raced, it was now or never. He had to say to Stolas what he hadn’t even been able to admit out loud to himself in the mirror, what he could only think about in the dead of night with his eyes closed. “I…” Blitzø forced himself to face the owl once again, to look into those wide pools of cerise red.
“I like you. I care about you, a lot, and it fucking terrifies me.” Stolas’ eyes became impossibly wide, his jaw trembling once again as obsidian talons covered his beak in a quiet gasp.
“Blitzø… Do you really mean it?” Stolas’ voice was barely above a whisper and probably as uncertain as Blitzø had ever heard it– he was so vulnerable, tired from the emotional onslaught he had subjected them both to.
“I do. I really fucking do, Stolas. I’m not joking, this isn’t some stupid roleplay bullshit-- I’m sorry about that, by the way–- I just-- I really fucking like you.” Blitzø felt the anxiety begin to steal his breath.
Stolas’ eyes were once again rimmed by tears, but fuck Blitzø hoped those weren’t the sad type. He was about to ask, before his head could spill the vitriolic poison it always did, but Stolas beat him to it by launching himself at the Imp, wrapping his arms around him. Blitzø returned the gesture after the initial shock set in, threading his fingers through Stolas’ crest feather as he cradled his head, smiling a little to himself.
Blitzø could feel Stolas’ heart beating faster than hummingbird wings, he tucked the owl’s head into the crook of his neck, feeling the hot, wet tears soaking through his shirt as the owl sobbed, but he wasn’t uncomfortable, nor was he afraid of what they meant.
He knew they had barely scratched the surface, there were several hurdles they still needed to clear, and it wasn’t all just going to be magically solved just because they had feelings for each other, but it was progress. A starting point, proof that maybe, just maybe, they could work together and build something .
“We’ll be okay, pretty bird.” Blitzø wasn’t sure whether he was trying to reassure the beautiful creature in his arms or himself, but for now, it didn’t really matter. They would figure it out. Together.