Chapter Text
Blitzø always avoided relationships.
They were messy and came with so much responsibility and commitment. As much as he’s always secretly wanted to find his one and only, someone who would make it worth the trouble, he never thought it would happen.
As it turned out, being Stolas’ boyfriend was a breeze. He didn’t have to try to care or force himself to be present and give him attention. He missed Stolas the second they weren’t together. He wanted to know what he was doing and if he was taking care of himself.
Their nightly calls were back in Blitzø’s routine, so were the good morning texts, but now he didn’t have to hold back from telling Stolas that he looked good enough to eat when he showed up to open the portal to the training room in the morning. In fact, Blitzø did eat him up in his office during lunch.
Stolas was heavy on the pet-name shit, and for the most part, Blitzø actually loved it. Darling , dear , and dearest were his main ones, but he would sneak in a my love when he was feeling sentimental. Blitzø wondered if Stolas knew the things it did to his heart.
He even had some silly ones like Blitzy , which was… different. The Imp didn’t exactly know how he felt about it yet. He sort of liked it. It was cute– but it being cute was actually what made him a bit embarrassed at the idea of being called Blitzy in public. So far, Stolas hadn’t used it in front of anyone, so it was a non-issue.
They sneaked kisses and touches here and there, flirting through glances and whispers. Their close circle knew they were together, so there was no need to hide from them, but Blitzø would be lying if he said he didn’t want to wrap his arm around Stolas when they waited in line for coffee. Still, he understood why they couldn’t be open in public just yet.
Stolas had been to several meetings with his lawyer in the week that followed them getting together. He was doubling down on the divorce and trying to expedite it. The hardest part was custody of his daughter. Stella was trying her hardest to keep her, and Blitzø had the feeling it wasn’t due to motherly love.
Her main argument was that Stolas cheated, he was a degenerate home-wrecker, and thus didn’t care about his family. He had brought up that she hadn’t been faithful for over a decade, but unlike Stolas, she didn’t go viral on the internet for almost kissing her paramour on the streets of Pride, so he didn’t exactly have proof of her escapades. Nor could he prove her abuse.
Blitzø knew he couldn’t do much to help him, so he focused on making Stolas feel better after each meeting that left him thinking it was all his fault for not gathering evidence. The Imp talked him through his guilt, comforted him through his tears, and kissed away his fear that he would be chained to Stella forever, promising they would find a way.
Despite all the roadblocks in their path, this felt natural to Blitzø. Like he was always supposed to be there next to Stolas. They didn’t look like puzzle pieces that would go together, but they did. They fit perfectly. It was as if something just clicked when Blitzø had Stolas in his arms, like the world finally made sense when they were connected in the most intimate ways.
The sex was unlike anything Blitzø had ever experienced– and that was a feat in itself. Stolas was an absolute freak in bed, in the best way possible. He was open to trying everything Blitzø brought up. He was curious, eager, and very creative.
They had started to experiment with kinks and fantasies after Blitzø talked him through what they needed to do and discuss to engage in BDSM safely. A few days later, Stolas suddenly opened a portal for Blitzø after dinner, standing on the other side of the magical rift in space in only some lacy lingerie and a goddamn collar.
Blitzø spent the whole night taking him apart, claiming him piece by piece, before putting him back together.
It was morning by the time Blitzø was finished with the Prince, and they shared a cigarette in bed as the Imp preened the feathers on Stolas’ back. He did it every time as part of their aftercare routine, right after he massaged whatever part of Stolas he had decided to abuse that time.
“Oh, darling, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Stolas said as he exhaled a puff of smoke. “This weekend marks the Hunter Moon and I must go to earth to perform a ritual. I was wondering if you would like to accompany me,” he held the cigarette over his shoulder, offering it to Blitzø.
“Earth, uh? Sounds like it could be a blast and a half, Birdie,” Blitzø kissed his shoulder before snagging the cigarette from Stolas’ hand. “Can you get the phone here?”
Stolas floated the device to Blitzø and the Imp wiped his hands before taking it and dialing Moxxie’s number. He explained he would be out of the office for two days on a trip to the surface and hung up before the other Imp could complain.
Next, he texted Loona to let her know she would have the apartment to herself and he would leave some money for her in case she needed anything. She informed him in return that she would be going to a party in Gluttony with her new friend, Tex. Blitzø didn’t like the sound of his little girl hanging out with him, or any men to be honest, but he didn’t protest and just told her to have fun and be safe.
With arrangements made, Stolas had breakfast brought to his room and he fed Blitzø bites of food as the Imp diligently preened him. This, Blitzø was certain, was what people called bliss.
***
The next day, Blitzø was looking over some paperwork at the office. They had a practice mission on Earth scheduled to test their abilities in a more realistic setting. Their target was someone Vassago picked personally, apparently, the guy summoned some high-ranking demon, made a deal, and didn’t pay the price.
Blitzø set the mission plans down when his phone chirped. He opened his chat with Stolas to find a picture of the Prince clad only in some tiny silk panties and an unbuttoned dress shirt. The message said he was getting ready for a boring meeting and that he missed him, even if they had seen each other the previous day.
Blitzø: r u tryn 2 driv me crazy bb ?
Blitzø: kip dat cute shit up n ill plow dat birdpuss u in frnt uf al dose stuk up birds
Blitzø: show em wat a reel fukin is ;)
My bird <3: Don’t threaten me with a good time, dearest.
Blitzø bit his lip. This horny bitch was playing with fire. He was about to respond with another flirty line when Moxxie knocked on the door.
“What the fuck do you want, Moxx?” Blitzø looked at the picture before pocketing his phone; he'd get back to Stolas later.
“Sir, someone here is asking for you,” Moxxie explained.
“Fine, send the fucker in,” Blitzø sighed, already over the whole thing. They weren’t taking new clients so he couldn’t imagine what the guy wanted.
Moxxie ushered in a tall Imp wearing a cowboy outfit. He was pretty hot and probably some type of hybrid if the color of his skin and the spikes on his tail were anything to go by.
“So you’re the bold Imp who started his own killin’ biz, uh?” The cowboy walked over to Blitzø’s desk, holding out his hand. “Name’s Striker.”
“Blitzø, the O is silent,” he introduced himself and shook the guy’s hand firmly. “You know how it is, when you’re good at something you should probably capitalize.”
“Heard you even conned some ditzy blue-blood into sponsorin’ y’all.” Striker took a seat across from Blitzø. “That’s pretty impressive, sir.”
“Guess it is, isn’t it?” Blitzø said through gritted teeth. The way he referenced Stolas wouldn’t have made Blitzø bat an eye in the past, but now he wanted to punch this jackass in the mouth. “It’s… complicated. I–” love him, “ he is–” mine, “we–” are together. He had to swallow the words he wanted to say, stumbling nervously. “The short answer is yes .”
Blitzø felt guilty even entertaining his kind of talk about his boyfriend. He wished he could stand up for him and tell this asshole to watch his mouth if he wanted to keep his head attached to his body, but he couldn’t. Not yet.
Striker raised an eyebrow curiously, silently asking for more details. Blitzø knew he needed to cover his tracks here if he wanted to keep their relationship out of the spotlight.
“But you know, we’re not like,” Blitzø tried to remedy his statement, detaching himself from Stolas in the eyes of others. “He’s not– what we do is–” Blitzø didn’t want to shit talk his own relationship, but he pushed through it. “It’s a transactional fucking, you see. He’s just desperate like that.”
Satan’s cock, that was the hardest lie I ever told.
Striker laughed as if Blitzø had just told a joke. The assassin felt his stomach twist. Playing this game of pretend was harder than he imagined it would be.
“Well, I’m a fan of your work,” Stiker said with a smirk. “I was wonderin’ if y’all needed an extra pair of hands. I used to be a bounty hunter in Wrath, but that got real boring, y’know? I’m lookin’ for a challenge.”
“We’re not hiring right now, but you can leave your contact with Moxxie and we’ll keep you in mind if we decide to expand.” Blitzø was glad he could kick the motherfucker out. There was no way he would hire him even if they had any openings.
“That’s a darn shame,” Striker leaned closer, his eyes lit up in an unnerving way, making Blitzø’s head feel floaty, like he was high on something. “I thought we’d make a real good team, boss.”
“Yeah well, no dice, fucko.” Blitzø looked away, frowning as he tried to fight the urge to meet his gaze again. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”
The cowboy let out a hiss from deep in his chest, swishing his tail in a way that made it rattle. He sounded like some type of snake ready to attack. It was fucking unsettling.
“Careful, ya might just regret this.” Striker got up and stomped out of his office.
Blitzø let out a sigh of relief, feeling like he could finally breathe again. That dude was creepy as fuck, and he hoped they would never cross paths again.
***
On the day of the Hunter Moon, Blitzø packed a bag with a change of clothes and some fun stuff for him and Stolas to play with, just in case. The plan was for him to join the owl in the evening, but he was tired of waiting, especially since he hadn’t seen Stolas in a few days.
“Hey, Birdie,” Blitzø called as he exited the portal in his human disguise, excited to start his weekend with Stolas.
Blitzø searched around in what looked like a cottage for his boyfriend. Everything was just tall enough that Stolas could reach without crouching, but only barely. The place was probably best suited for taller Hellborn, but not someone as tall as a Goetia.
The cabin was small but cozy and, in a surprising way, very Stolas. Plants were everywhere, hanging in front of windows and filling pots against the wall. There was a fireplace in front of a plush couch, a TV mounted above the mantle, and walls covered in shelves full of books.
It was nicer than any place Blitzø had ever lived but not as opulent as the palace. This was the kind of place he could see as a good middle ground between his and Stolas’ lifestyles.
The owl himself walked out of a door at the end of a short hallway to Blitzø’s left. He wore his favorite red robe, which was lazily tied around his waist and slipped off one of his shoulders, leaving very little to the imagination.
“Darling? I wasn’t expecting you until la-” Stolas said as he approached and Blitzø used his added height to reach up and yank him down by his robe, pulling the Prince into a kiss that ended way too soon. “Oh, I missed you too, Blitzy” Stolas cooed once they pulled apart.
“Couldn’t wait,” Blitzø took his boyfriend’s hand and led him to the couch where he laid back against the pillows.
“You shall hear no complaints from me.” Stolas cuddled up to Blitzø, wrapping an arm around his torso. “I was counting the minutes anyway.”
“Silly bird,” Blitzø said, both playfully and fondly. “You’re real fucking cheesy, you know that?”
“Is that a problem?” Stolas said in fake indignation.
“No, maybe that’s why I like you so much.” Blitzø kissed his forehead, making the owl chuckle.
“You know, look very handsome,” Stolas said as he ran a finger down his jawline. “I quite like how the disguise turned out.”
“Maybe your yeti-kete lessons didn’t teach ya, Birdie, but you gotta dress for the occasion,” Blitzø said nonchalantly, hiding how weak he was for the compliments Stolas gave so freely. “Besides, I didn’t know what kind of place this was, and I don’t want Polly up my ass about breaking the rules.”
“First, that’s etiquette, dear. But yes, I suppose adhering to the rules is quite prudent,” Stolas hummed thoughtfully. “Should we go on a date here on Earth? I’ll wear my human disguise, of course. We could buy matching shirts like human couples do! Oh, Blitzø, wouldn’t that be so fun?”
That didn’t sound exactly like Blitzø’s definition of fun. He’d never done any of that couple-y shit, and up until recently, he would’ve sworn he never would. But the way Stolas’ whole face lit up did things to Blitzø’s conviction. How could he deny him anything that made him that happy and excited?
Fuck. I’m such a simp for this bird.
“Sounds gay as fuck,” Blitzø started, waiting just long enough to see a stubborn frown pulling at Stolas’ eyebrows. “I’m down.”
Stolas beamed, and Blitzø returned the smile with one of his own, although his was a warm, fond stretch of his lips at the owl’s reaction rather than borne from excitement at the idea of matching outfits.
“Don’t cream your panties just yet, Stols,” Blitzø teased. “Save it for when Daddy gets thirsty,” he added, licking his lips as his eyes trailed down Stolas’ body to where his robe parted, exposing his thighs.
“Well, aren’t you thirsty now?” Stolas draped one of his mile-long legs over Blitzø’s hip. “It’s quite hot here, don’t you think? It is important to stay hydrated, dearest.”
Blitzø chuckled and hiked Stolas’ leg up, squeezing his thigh. The Prince took it as encouragement and climbed on top of Blitzø. The assassin linked his hands behind his head, admiring the view as Stolas’ robe pooled around his waist, hanging from the bend of his elbows.
“You know what?” Blitzø smirked, voice dropping to a seductive tone. “Now that you mention it, I think my mouth is a little dry.”
Stolas chuckled and shuffled up the Imp’s body. Blitzø undid the belt of his robe and slipped his hands inside, reaching around the owl to grab his ass. Stolas held onto the back of the couch for support as he positioned himself over Blitzø’s mouth.
“Drop the disguise, please,” Stolas requested.
“Thought you liked it,” Blitzø looked up at him with hunger.
“I much prefer the real you, my love,” Stolas cupped Blitzø’s cheek as the man murmured the spell and turned back into his Impish form. “There you are,” the Prince smiled.
His heart fluttered at Stolas’ tone, and once his tail was back, Blitzø swiftly wrapped around his dainty waist. That made the owl let out a happy little chirp, the kind he used to suppress when they first started getting to know each other.
Cute, cute, cute.
Blitzø pulled Stolas down so he could reach his molten core. The Imp started with teasing licks and kisses, and he wanted to have the owl dripping with need before he gave him what he wanted.
They continued this dance of teasing and begging until Blitzø could feel desperation radiating from his bird. He went straight to the source to drink down his nectar, making Stolas let out a loud moan as the front door cracked open.
“Blitzø!” Stolas mewled, unaware of his butler who just walked in, only able to see Stolas from behind the couch.
“N-no, your Highness, just me,” Pringles said and looked around for the taller Imp, who was conveniently hidden under Stolas’ robe and tail. “Is your rogue with us yet?”
Stolas froze, grabbing Blitzø’s horn to make him stop, but the assassin did no such thing. He didn’t give two shits about that little prick watching them. He shook his head and the Prince looked down in confusion. Blitzø winked at him and continued.
“H-he is…” Stolas gulped, trying to compose himself, face completely flushed. Blitzø swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub at his apex. “ Busy. ”
Pringles gave him a suspicious look and took a step as Stolas gripped the back of his couch, trying to stifle his moans. The butler finally noticed Blitzø’s horns peeking out, and understanding dawned on him.
“For Satan’s sake, Blitzø have you no shame?” Pringles covered his eyes as his face heated up. “Was this man raised in a barn? I swear, I’m not cleaning that couch,” the butler mumbled as he headed for the door.
“Worse, I was raised in a circus!” Blitzø called from under his boyfriend and chuckled, the vibration made Stolas shiver and whimper as the door slammed.
“You are positively devious, darling,” Stolas tried to chastise him. “P-poor Pringles, I’ll– ah!” Whatever he was going to say got lost in the ether once Blitzø began suckling at his bundle of nerves as he slapped his ass.
“Say another man’s name when I got my tongue in your cunt again and see what happens, Birdie.” Blitzø’s tone made it clear Stolas wouldn’t like it.
Blitzø returned to his task, making Stolas scream his name and his name only until he came.
***
As the full Hunter Moon began to light up the sky, Blitzø watched Stolas prepare for the ritual. He didn’t need his disguise since they were in a secluded location. In a tote bag, he packed some candles, his grimoire, and a blanket.
Pringles was already preparing for dinner, still irritated by Blitzø’s earlier antics but as dutiful to Stolas as always. These rituals took a lot out of the Prince since they required full use of his magic and so he would need a good meal afterwards.
“Are you ready to head out, darling?” Stolas asked once he was all packed, still in just his robe.
“Yeah, but…” Blitzø looked him up and down in confusion. “Aren’t you going to get dressed first? Not that I’m complaining about the view, but you’re pretty much naked, babe.”
“Oh, no, there’s no need for that,” Stolas chuckled and held out a hand to his boyfriend. “Besides, I would have to take it all off for the ritual anyway. Such an unnecessary hassle.”
“Wait, what?” Blitzø’s eyebrows shot up but he took the hand that was offered. “You’re just sitting naked under the moon? Are we shooting some type of porn?” Stolas laughed though Blitzø was serious. Sort of.
“Nothing of the sort,” Stolas led him out the door and in the direction of his ritual site. “You see, I need to be fully connected to the stars and the moon to be able to get precise readings. I find that the more moonlight I come in contact with, the more powerful I feel.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Blitzø shrugged. He wasn’t opposed to watching his naked boyfriend do magic shit with the stars. “Still sounds like the plot for a porn.”
Stolas giggled again, and Blitzø kept making jokes so he could enjoy the happy little hoots. He had Stolas flushed from laughter by the time they arrived at their destination. It was a clearing in the middle of the woods, kind of eerie, but fitting for a ritual performed by a hellish prince.
Blitzø climbed up a nearby tree to find himself a comfortable spot to watch the show. It started as soon as Stolas dropped his robe. Clad now only in moonlight, he looked ethereal, more angel than demon– absolutely stunning.
“May I have a kiss for good luck?” Stolas said with a smile on his lovely heart-shaped face.
“Don’t know how much that’ll help, but whatever gets you there, babe,” Blitzø snickered and wrapped his tail around a branch, using it to keep him from falling. He jumped, hanging upside down at eye level with Stolas, who giggled at his antics.
“Oh, you.” Stolas held Blitzø’s face between his hands and kissed him lovingly. “I love you, Blitzy.”
“Love you too, baby.” Blitzø was aware of the dopey smile on his face, but he didn’t care. Not one bit. “Good luck with your prophecy shit.”
Stolas returned to the middle of the clearing, laid the blanket down, and arranged five candles in a circle around it. He sat down with his legs crossed and summoned his grimoire, then with a snap of his fingers, the candles lit up.
The golden candlelight on Stolas’ feathers contrasted with the silver glow of the moon, a battle between light from the heavens and burning hellfire. He recited the enchantments for this ritual, and a light blue glow surrounded him, lifting his form into the air.
Blitzø watched in awe as Stolas’ eyes began to glow brighter, a more carmine shade of red. He radiated magic, looking every bit the mythical, demonic being he was.
Blitzø, you are one lucky Imp.
At that moment, Blitzø couldn’t understand what Stolas saw in him. He could speak to the stars, for fuck’s sake. He pictured the adoring gaze the Prince had just directed at him and wondered how he could look at a simple Imp with such awe when he had the whole cosmos at his disposal?
Lost in his musings and entranced by the vision before him, Blitzø didn’t catch the crackling of twigs that signaled movement nearby. Suddenly, Stolas snapped his head around in that owlish way he did, his feathers turning black with scarlet tips.
Blitzø silently climbed down from his perch as Stolas’ turned into a shadowy figure and swirled through the air, dodging a white, glowing, unmistakable projectile.
A blessed bullet.
The Imp immediately reached for his gun, back against a tree. He couldn’t give himself away. He wouldn’t stand a chance if the gunman spotted him from this distance. Stolas dodged another bullet, seemingly still in his magical trance, and Blitzø tracked its trajectory, sneakily making his way toward the source of the attack.
As he crept closer, Blitzø caught a rattling hiss he immediately recognized. He had only heard that unnerving, menacing sound once; in his office while he bit his tongue not to blow the cover on his relationship.
Striker, the shitty cowboy.
Blitzø pulled the trigger, the bullet hit the other Imp’s tail, and he dropped the rifle. He pounced on Striker, tackling the man to the ground.
“Should’ve fucking killed you in my office,” Blitzø snarled, grabbing the other Imp’s throat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“If it ain’t the class traitor,” Striker said with a vicious sneer. “If I didn’t know for sure before I got my answer now, you reek of your blue-blooded master.”
Striker swung and hit Blitzø square on the jaw, knocking him aside. He tried to reach for the rifle again, but Blitzø grabbed his wrist with his tail, yanking roughly. He hit the Wrathian with the barrel of his flintlock. He didn’t want to kill the guy yet, not before he found out who was behind this.
“Not so fucking fast, bitch,” Blitzø held the gun to his throat. “Who sent you? There’s no way a nobody like you could get his slimy hands on a blessed gun.”
Striker growled and narrowed his eyes. Realizing the assassin didn’t plan on killing him, Striker used his tail to pull out a knife, attempting to slash at Blitzø’s ribs. He dodged, but the blade nicked his side, making him hiss.
“Oh, you daddyfucker!” Blitzø growled and grabbed his tail. He yanked the knife out of its grasp, immediately stabbing the spade of Striker’s tail down to the ground. “I’m only asking one more time, bitch. Who sent you?”
“Someone with a lot of power who thinks what you and that pathetic bird are doin’ is disgusting. Even his daughter hates him for it,” Striker smirked menacingly. “Ask your sugar daddy. I’m sure he knows someone real close who would want to see him lose everything.”
Striker pulled his tail through the blade, slicing the spade to free it. He screamed a strangled noise that Blitzø felt in his bones. The Wrathian kneed Blitzø in the stomach and swiped dirt at his eyes, knocking the air out of him and momentarily blinding him at the same time.
“See you next time, Blitzy .” Striker pushed Blitzø off him and quickly scrambled to his feet, grabbing the rifle before running away. The glow of a portal was all Blitzø could see before he was once again left with just moonlight and Stolas’ ritual candles.
The Imp looked towards the clearing, Stolas was still floating, speaking to the stars or something. He was back in his normal form, gray-blue feathers shining in the magical glow. Blitzø took a moment to catch his breath, running through what just happened in his mind. Panic was building in his chest, making his throat feel tight.
Someone wants to kill Stolas.
It can’t happen. I can’t lose him. I can’t let him get hurt.
A blessed rifle.
How the fuck did that shithead get his hands on one of those?
Who is he working for?
Why Stolas?
Is it my fault?
The voices in his head argued, trying to direct his attention to different trains of thought. The only thing all parts of him could agree on was that he couldn’t lose Stolas. He refused to.
He had to find Striker and beat the information out of him.
Right now though, he had to protect Stolas. Blitzø doubted that the bag of rattlecocks would return that night, but that didn’t completely erase the possibility, so he focused on what he could control.
While Stolas finished his ritual, Blitzø watched their surroundings carefully, systematically patrolling the area around the clearing. He didn’t know in detail what Stolas’ relationship with the other Goetia was like, but he knew it wasn’t exactly great.
He was devising a plan to track down Striker when the blue glow of Stolas’ magic faded, and Blitzø turned to find him back on the ground, candles extinguished. The Imp ran to him. He was pretty certain he didn’t get hit by the bullets, but he needed to check.
Blitzø grabbed Stolas’ hands and looked over his arms, then his torso, inspecting every inch of his body as the Prince came to. Stolas fluttered his eyes open, a smile slowly growing on his lips as he felt his lover’s touch.
When Stolas’ vision cleared, his features morphed to dread. He saw the bruises, the blood that stained Blitzø’s jacket from a cut on his side, and the dirt and grime that covered him.
“Blitzø? Darling, what…” Stolas was speechless. He pulled his hands from the Imp’s grasp and took him by the shoulders instead, inspecting his state. “What happened? Oh, Blitzø, you are injured! W-we must return to the cabin at once so I can heal you!”
“Stolas,” Blitzø tried to get his attention, but now it was the owl’s turn to panic. “Stols,” he tried again, to no avail. “Babe, stop. I’m fine.”
“No, you clearly are not! You are bleeding, Blitzø!” With a sweep of his hand, Stolas stood and gathered the blanket, grimoire, and candled and stuffed them back in his bag.
“Birdie, I’m okay, it’s just a scratch.”
While Stolas frantically packed, Blitzø picked up his robe, more worried about his boyfriend feeling cold than anything else now that he knew he wasn’t hurt.
“Please, darling, let’s go.” the Prince kneeled down again to take hold of Blitzø’s face, gently cupping it. “I need to heal you, and you must tell me what in the unholy Hell happened.”
“Fine, let’s go,” Blitzø sighed and nodded. Stolas lowered his hands and let the Imp help him back into his robe.
Stolas didn’t bother with the walk he usually cherished. He simply opened a portal back to the cottage, using magic he didn’t exactly have to spare at the moment. Blitzø followed him through the glowing rift in space and into the cozy living room.
They were greeted by warmth and the smell of something delicious. Something Blitzø found familiar but doubted it was what he imagined.
“Welcome back, my Prince,” Pringles greeted as he exited the kitchen, clearly emphasizing the my to irritate Blitzø– payback for earlier. “I hope the ritual–”
“Pringles, zip it,” Blitzø said firmly, jaw tight. “I’m not in the mood to play around, okay?”
The butler frowned but nodded. He looked over to Stolas, who offered an apologetic gaze. Pringles informed them dinner was ready and he had already eaten, then bowed and retreated to his own room.
Stolas opened a notebook and charmed a pen to begin writing down the messages he got during his ritual, then turned his attention back to Blitzø.
“Come, sit.” Stolas took Blitzø’s hand and guided him to the couch. “Tell me what happened while I tend to your wounds.”
Blitzø sighed and nodded, shedding his jacket and undoing his choker to strip off his shirt, allowing Stolas to look at the cut. It wasn’t very deep, just as scratch as Blitzø had told him, not even the kind that would need stitches.
Stolas opened a small portal to the inside of the bathroom cabinet and pulled the first aid kit out of it. He grabbed a couple different vials, some gauze, and medical tape, then raised an eyebrow at Blitzø, as if telling him to start talking.
“A few days ago this guy, Striker, walked into my office and said he wants to work for us. He starts talking about how he admires how I…” Blitzø looked away, hoping the next words coming out of his mouth wouldn’t hurt Stolas too much. “How I conned a, uh… royal into sponsoring IMP and…”
While Blitzø gathered the courage to continue, Stolas saw an opening to make his feelings on the matter known as he disinfected the cut and applied a salve or ointment of some sort. Definitely not the store-bought shit Blitzø had at home.
“I’m certain that is not what he called me,” Stolas said with a bitter undertone to his voice, making Blitzø wince a little. “Albeit highly unnecessary, I appreciate the language clean-up, dear. What does this unsavory fellow have to do with your injuries?”
“Well, took everything in me not to blow our cover and put a new hole in his face, but it turns out I should have,” Blitzø continued, still not looking at Stolas. “He, uh, he showed up while you were doing your ritual, and he had a blessed rifle. I’m surprised you don’t remember. You turned into this black and red shadow and dodged two bullets.”
“Someone tried to kill me? Here?” Stolas searched his lap for answers. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. It’s my demonic form. It’s an ancient kind of magic that lives inside me that I can call upon. It protects me subconsciously when I am not able to. It’s quite horrifying, I’m aware. I promise it doesn’t come out often.”
“Hey, none of that.” Blitzø took his chin and lifted it so Stolas met his gaze again. “It was really badass, and having a super powerful dark demon self is pretty hot, too,” he placed a quick kiss on Stolas’ beak. “Now focus. Back to the part where someone is trying to kill you and I’m trying to figure out why.”
“Truthfully, there are several reasons why someone would want to kill me, but to go as far as sending an assassin to do it?” Stolas frowned as he secured the gauze over the wound, taping it loosely to let it breathe. “I’m certain this isn’t the first ever attempt on my life, but here? No one knows the location of this place besides Pringles and Octavia.”
“Before he escaped, he said he was working for someone powerful who thinks our relationship is disgusting,” Blitzø frowned. It pained him to even say it. “And that someone close to you wants you to lose everything. He said you’d know who.”
“I want to say it was my brother-in-law, but Andrealphus knows that if I die, Stella gets nothing.” Stolas raked his brain as he opened the second vial and began applying the ointment to Blitzø’s bruises and more minor injuries. “He wouldn’t be this stupid.”
“Maybe his whore sister?” Blitzø suggested, lifting his chin so Stolas could see the bruise on his face. He wasn’t about to fight over his pride right now.
“That’s too low, even for Stella,” Stolas hesitated a second later. “Although perhaps I shouldn’t write her off too hastily.”
“We’ll look into it when we get back. Whoever did this will pay,” Blitzø said as he soothingly rubbed Stolas’ arm, both to comfort him and soften the blow of what he would say next. “He also said something about your daughter.”
“Oh,” Stolas immediately stiffened, looking away. “What… What about her?”
“He said she hates you,” Blitzø murmured, and Stolas winced, recoiling as if he had just been slapped. “Because of… us. Me,” he paused, letting the statement sink in. “I thought you two talked about it.”
“Well, we definitely exchanged words about the topic,” Stolas tried to deflect, but Blitzø knew better. “It didn’t exactly go as I expected, to say the least.”
“Stols, I need you to be honest with me about this.” Blitzø gently took hold of Stolas’ chin and turned his head so their eyes would meet. He fixed him with a serious look that left no room for argument.
“When I spoke to her initially, Octavia was scared I would abandon her to run away with you,” Stolas sighed. “As a little girl, my owlet used to have nightmares about me leaving her. In those dreams, she would look for me all over the palace but couldn’t find me, and it seems those fears still persist in her heart. Finding out about us was a major blow to her security, I believe.”
Blitzø listened, watching Stolas’ body language closely. The owl was fidgety, and he tried to avert his gaze several times, hiding as if he was embarrassed to admit the truth. The Imp understood, if he were in that situation with Loona he would also be a mess about it.
“I reassured her, and we made up, but then she overheard me and her mother talking about divorce and…” Stolas let out a sarcastic snort, bitterly laughing at himself. “Well, she called me a liar, a deviant, and I am ashamed to admit she had some choice words about you as well. I told her I raised her better than that, and she couldn’t use such horrid language to speak to or about anyone.”
The Imp was shocked, not by his daughter being racist in a moment of anger, she had obviously heard her mother speak like that and was emulating her to hurt her father. Still, the fact that Stolas stood up for him in that moment spoke volumes about his values, as well as his love for Blitzø.
Well now I feel bad for not telling that shitty cowboy to watch his mouth.
“Needless to say, she didn’t like that, in her eyes, I took your side because I love you more than I love her,” Stolas sighed, exhausted. “The last thing she said to me was you never loved Mother and you don’t love me, you love him . Unfortunately, there is truth to that statement. I obviously never loved Stella and I do love you very much, but by Lucifer, I am only alive today because of my daughter. I love her with every fiber of my being.”
Blitzø couldn’t resist it anymore. He pulled Stolas into a hug, holding him tightly. He couldn’t understand why Stolas was with him, how could he be worth all this trouble? At the end of the day, Blitzø was a selfish man, and he could only hope that Stolas never realized how much better he could do.
“In the end, she made it clear she wants nothing to do with me and chose to move out of the palace with her mother,” Stolas managed to say with a strangled voice, clearly holding back tears. “So there you have it, I am a failure as a father.”
“You’re not a failure, Birdie,” Blitzø tried to reassure him with a gentle tone. “She’s just angry right now and she’s just saying the shit she hears her mother say. Did you tell her about… you know, what that bitch put you through?”
“No, I didn’t want to ruin the image she has of her mother.” Stolas held Blitzø a little tighter. “She deserves to see at least one of her parents in a good light. Perhaps I will tell her eventually, but she’s still too young.”
“She’s not five, Stols,” Blitzø argued. “You can’t shelter her forever. She deserves to know the truth.”
“I will tell her,” Stolas sighed, knowing Blitzø was right. “Just… not right now. She needs some time and space to process.”
“Alright.” Blitzø decided there was no point in arguing about this right now. “Now, let’s get some food in you.”
Stolas nodded, and the pair made their way to the kitchen, where they found stew and rice in two separate pots. The Prince smiled a bit and breathed in the aroma before filling two bowls, one for him and one for Blitzø. The Imp recognized the dish in a second. It was something his Mama made when he was sick,a classic broke Imp cuisine.
“Pringles always makes this for me after rituals,” Stolas said as he carried the bowls to the small dining table, already set with cutlery and some water.
“Never imagined you’d like something like that.” Blitzø took a seat and smiled down at the food in front of him. “My Mama used to make this stew for me when I was little. It’s basically peasant food.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Stolas chuckled as he sat down. “It’s quite delicious.”
“You’re something else, Birdie,” Blitzø said fondly, smiling at the owl, who began digging into his stew. Stolas tilted his head in a cute, owlish way, asking for clarification. “It’s a good thing. Eat your dinner.”
Stolas let out a chirpy chuckle, and Blitzø blushed a little, looking down at his bowl. They ate in a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fireplace and scratching of pen on paper acting as background noise.
After dinner, they enjoyed a bath together, and Blitzø helped Stolas preen before they got in bed. The Imp held him as Stolas tucked his head into the crook of his neck, breathing in deeply.
In the sanctuary of their bed, holding Stolas, Blitzø felt his inhibitions lower as his sentimentality grew.
“I’ll catch that bastard,” Blitzø whispered. “I promise, I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know you will,” Stolas responded quietly. “I love you, Blitzy.”
“I love you too, Birdie,” Blitzø buried his face in Stolas’ crest feathers, breathing in his scent as soft hoots lulled him to sleep.
In his dreams, Blitzø saw an improbable future where he made pancakes for breakfast, and both of their daughters sat at the table, joking around as sisters do. A future where they were a happy family. The future they all deserved.