#A New Hit || Blitzø Ask

[amischiefofmuses]

Tag drop, look the other way.

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 7 - Ozzie's

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

It's a date! (But is it really?)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word count: 5,212

Warnings: you ask blitz to not be a dick and what does he do? yeah he's a bit of a dick. a big reveal abt reader's past (will be explored more in depth later), terrible just awful communication skills.

Alright, however much blood you got on yourself, business today was kind of pretty fucking awesome. 

The four of you walk through the portal, all still riding high on the adrenaline rush the day’s kills provided you. Blitzø’s the first to set foot back into the office, throwing his head back and brandishing his new axe around. “Woo! That was a fuckton of lumberjacks!” 

There were eleven of them, to be exact.

Moxxie walks in right after him, looking a little too excited as he held up a chainsaw, still on and rumbling.

Millie’s next, covered in more blood than anyone else, as usual- clearly in a great mood, going as far as biting the wooden handle of the axe she was holding in half.  “Ahh! I’m still so jazzed up!” 

You walk in last, examining the huge new knife you got for yourself, pleased. Nothing like putting down five huge-ass dudes on your own and getting a cool new knife for your collection to get you in a good mood. 

Moxxie discards the chainsaw into the portal, and Loona closes it off. “Well, you better stay jazzed up, babe,” he tells Millie, shooting finger guns at her. “‘Cause guess where I’m taking you tonight?”

“Don’t you dare finish a filthy pun in my presence, Moxxie! Besides, drinks are on me tonight! Let’s hit up the new drive down the street,” Blitzø suggests, excited.

Moxxie looks down to the floor, then back at him. “Actually, sir, it’s our one year marriage anniversary, so I’m taking Millie to Ozzie’s, all the way down in the Lust Ring!” He announces, proud of himself. 

Millie’s eyes immediately light up, and she gasps in excitement at the revelation. “Ozzie’s? No way! That place is always booked.”

Yeah, you should know that. In fact, you already knew Moxxie was taking her there, too- he’d approached you the previous week, asking if you could do him a ‘big favor’. You didn’t know what to expect of this supposed big favor, but when he asked if you could maybe call Ozzie personally and arrange him and Millie a reservation for their anniversary, you let out a laugh.

“Oh, that’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Of course I can, Mox, are you kidding?”

“That’s awesome!” He’d hugged you tight. “Thank you so, so much, y/n!”

You smile, pleased with Millie’s reaction. You knew she’d love it. Moxxie had mentioned he’d tell her you’d helped, but you’d told him not to, leaving all the credit for him. He deserved it. 

He sends you a thankful glance when Millie squeaks out his name and quite literally jumps on him, kissing him all over. The scene is so sweet it’s almost gross. 

“Ugh, can you two not?” Blitzø complains.

Moxxie’s out of breath when he pulls away, looking a little high-headed after the distraction. “I’m sorry, sir. Maybe another time!” 

“Oh, it’s fine! I- I can come with the two of  you, help you celebrate your boring-as-fuck-monogamy.”

There’s no way he just seriously suggested that. “What? Dude. No.”

Moxxie matches your tone. “Yeah. No.The reservation is for us.”

“Uh-huh,” Blitzø agrees, nodding, as if that changes absolutely nothing to him. Did he genuinely not get the hint or is he playing dumb at this point?

“Just. Us. Millie and I.”

“Uh-huh,” he repeats, still nodding as if he doesn’t see the issue. 

“Without you there. Explicitly without you there.”

He completely disregards Moxxie’s words. “I’ll wear something nice. It’s a big deal after all.” Ah, got it. Playing dumb.

Moxxie’s left eye twitches at his attitude, but, in turn, he just turns around, walking towards the door. “You want a ride or not?” He turns back around to ask you, and you try to shoot Moxxie a reassuring look that’s meant to say you’ll get some sense through his skull before you follow him out. “See you lovebugs later!”

You start scolding him as soon as you get to the parking lot. “Could you be any more inconvenient?”

“The fuck do you mean?” 

“The fuck do I mean? They don’t want you there, Blitz. It’s their anniversary. Whatever fantasies you have about them don’t make you a part of their relationship, you realize that, don’t you?” The two of you get to the van, and he unlocks the doors so you can get in before he says anything in return.

“Fuck you, I made that couple happen, bitch. I deserve to be part of this ‘anniversary dinner’. And you do too, I know there ain’t no way Moxxie got that reservation without your help.”

“Yeah and that one-hundred percent does not give me any right to crash their date. Don’t you fucking go to Ozzie’s tonight. You hear me?”

“Oh yeah keep telling me what to do baby, I’m almost there!” He exaggerates.

“I’m so serious right now.”

Blitzø scoffs at your threatening tone. “Don’t remember you being the boss of me.”

“I am telling you, as a friend, that you’re being inconvenient. They’ll get pissed at you and they’ll be right to.”

“Yeah well I don’t fucking care.”

“Come on Blitz, just give them a break. I’ll even go with you to that place you wanted to go!” You try. 

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun. And very far from Millie and Mox so they can enjoy their night out alone,” you make sure to point out.

“Fine. Whatever.”

Blitzø drops you off at your apartment so you can get ready with a yell of ‘be quick we don’t have all night!’ as he drives off, going home himself to shower and change too before he’s back to pick you up. 

“If I didn’t know you I’d think you’re dressing to impress me here,” he raises an eyebrow suggestively as he gives you a very exaggerated once-over.

“Yeah in your dreams maybe,” you retort immediately, used to his comments by now, as you get into the passenger seat.

“Oh my dreams about you don’t involve any clothes what-so-ever.”

“Gross.”

He shrugs. “Ready?”

“Sure. What’s the place called again?”

“Uuuuhh, don’t worry about it. We’re going somewhere new.”

You notice he’s extra chatty during the ride, talking your ear off and turning up the radio so the two of you can sing the songs out. You realize why he was going out of his way to distract you when suddenly you take a look out the window and recognize the neighborhood. 

He’s taken you to the Lust Ring, and it’s not very hard to imagine why when he parks just a couple blocks from Ozzie’s. You feel disappointed, and honestly a little naive, to have thought he’d take you to a fun night out instead of just doing whatever he wanted to do. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? This is the one place I said, repeatedly, that we couldn’t go!”

“Oh, boo-hoo, so I’m taking you out on a nice fucking fancy-ass dinner, what a terrible fucking thing to do!”

“Except you’re not taking me out, you just don’t know your fucking boundaries and you wanna spend your sorry-ass night spying on Millie and Moxxie.”

“Eh. Potato, potato.”

“You pronounced it the exact same.”

He shrugs. 

“We’re leaving.”

“What? No!”

“Well I am. And you don’t have a reservation,” you point out, trying to make it clear he’s not getting in. Did he only bring you out with him in the hopes you’d manage to get him a table by pulling some strings? “And you can’t get in without a date so sucks to be you.”

“Well I’m not taking you anywhere,” he crosses his arms over his chest, matter-of-factly.

“‘Course you’re fucking not. We were supposed to just have some fun tonight. I can’t believe this. You’re a fucking prick, you know that, right?” You let your frustration spill out in your words, and you pull your phone out to see if you can find a ride on Reaper, not in the mood to be out anymore and desperately wanting to get back home at this point.

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re a whiny bitch but I don’t keep telling you that, do I?”

You send him a dirty look, sitting on the curb as you wait for the app to find you a car, and he fucks off to the alleyway behind you to do Satan-knows-what. After a while, still down on your luck with the ride, you’re startled when a portal is opened only a couple feet in front of you, and it takes you a couple seconds to register the fact that it’s Stolas who walks out of it. 

“Stolas?”

“Stolaaass!” Blitzø calls out, as if already expecting him. Was he already expecting him? Is this what you thought it was- you telling him you wouldn’t get into Ozzie’s with him and him just calling Stolas up, simple as ever, to fulfill that role instead?

“What are you doing here?” You ask the prince, not really meaning to sound rude, but it comes out demanding of an answer regardless, and he tilts his head to the side, as if confused by the fact that you apparently didn’t know he’d be coming.

“Wow. Outfit’s a little overkill, don’t ya think?” Blitzø tells him, and you resist the urge to pettily flick at his forehead at the lack of common sense. Why the fuck would you say that?

Stolas looks down to the floor, embarrassed. “Did you… not know I was coming, y/n?”

“No. Did Blitzø call you here?”

“Yes, I- I assumed-” He looks at Blitzø, now referring to the comment about his outfit as well. “I wanted to look nicer for you. This is our first real date, after all… right?” he explains himself, motioning between the three of you.

“A date?” You whip your head around to look at Blitzø. That’s what he told Stolas this was?

“Surprise! We’re having a date!”

“Blitz I swear to Satan, this is so out of pocket-”

“Is something not right, y/n?” Stolas asks, and it completely disarms you. He seems so genuinely excited about this ‘date’ that you can’t get yourself to ruin it for him by revealing what only you knew- that what he thought was a date was just a selfish ploy for Blitzø to spy on Millie and Moxxie for whatever fucking reason he had.

And so you find yourself reassuring him. “No. Not at all.”

“Ya still wanna leave now?” Blitzø whispers, all cocky and annoying and- fuck, he can just be so stubborn it’s insufferable sometimes. You grit your teeth but say nothing in return, and the three of you walk up to the stairs by the entrance. 

You don’t recognize the incubus who greets you. Must be new. He eyes the three of you up and down, as if trying to gather how the fuck this whole thing happened. “Y’all three together?” He asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Stolas tells him. 

“Alrightt, that’s fucking hot! Y’all got a reservation?”

Before you can even think of telling him to talk to Ozzie, Stolas speaks up again. “Do we need one?” He asks, glaring at the man, as if challenging him to say yes. The man gulps before opening a smile and bowing at him. “No! Uh, shit, my apologies, Your Highness. Right this way.”

You feel the ever-growing urge to facepalm as hard as you possibly can the very second you enter the lounge, because Blitzø immediately starts sneaking around the place like he’s a character in some low-budget spy movie. 

Stolas looks around the place, mesmerized. “Oh, my! Oh, no! No, but also yes!” He’s been there countless times (you should know), but only then do you realize he’s never stayed or even visited for matters that weren’t aligned with his royal duties. He’s stupid rich and he’s never dined at Ozzie’s?

Oh.

He’s only ever been with that wife of his before you and Blitzø happened. And- oh, fuck. Was this his first ever date? Shit.

You pull Blitzø down to whisper to him as you walk to your table. “Blitz, you’re gonna be fucking nice tonight, alright?”

“Hey I’m always a fucking delight!”

“I’m serious. I think he’s never been on a date before.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“Look he’s clearly excited to be here, please don’t be a dick, okay?”

“You calling me that for free?”

“The outfit comment was not cool.”

“Oh you guys are so fucking sensitive.” He dismisses your words, sitting down on the chair that had been arranged for him, a couple books placed on the seat so his height could be aligned properly with the round table’s.

Stolas is beaming as soon as the three of you sit down. “Oh, how romantic is this? I have never stayed here longer than I needed to. It’s so charming!”

“Yeah, it sounded like- I just thought we’d have a blast here,” Blitzø tells him, barely present in the conversation as he pulls out his goddamn fucking binoculars out of his pocket, surely trying to find out where Millie and Moxxie were seated. 

“Uh, yeah. It’s lovely, right? And it’s where I met both of you! Isn’t that so nice, Blitz?” You kick him under the table, and he shoots you a dirty glare before turning back around. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a real romantic- oh gotcha!”

Stolas tilts his head to the side, trying to figure out what is happening. “Uh, Blitz, what are you looking at?”

“I’m looking at nothing. How about that?” So much for not being a dick. Luckily, a server approaches the table just then, averting Stolas’ attention from Blitzø. 

“So, can I get you three off?” She takes a long pause before ‘correcting’ herself. “I mean, start you three off with some drinks?” It actually was normal taught practice for the ‘slip-ups’ to happen- you should know, you trained countless servers during your time there. It still makes Stolas blush out of embarrassment, caught off-guard by it.

“Yes! Um, perhaps some… wine, to share?” He glances at you, and you smile at him, nodding in agreement. “Blitz?” 

“What?”

“Would you like some wine, too?”

“Yeah why not?”

“Do you prefer red or white? Or perhaps some champagne?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Blitzø replies dryly, very clearly barely paying any attention to what was said to him as he didn’t even bother turning around to face the two of you.

“Uh- I- uh-”

“What if we-” you begin, trying to help Stolas not freak out.

“Perhaps we should order all three! Ha! Why not?” He suggests, and it sort of sounds like he is sort of freaking out, but you don’t argue. 

“Yeah that sounds good.”

“So! How was the day at I.M.P.?” Stolas tries. 

“Oh? Uh, it was good, I guess. We killed a bunch of beardos. She can tell you about it,” Blitzø tells him, this time sparing one single glance back and pointing vaguely at you. How thoughtful.

“Oh?”

“Uh, business was pretty good today. What he meant with killing a bunch of beardos is that we had more targets than usual, which is good. They just happened to be a bunch of lumberjacks, strangely enough. But I’m sure you don’t wanna hear about us killing people, right?”

“No! It sounds like fun!” It definitely didn’t look like he thought so, but rather that he was desperately trying to build a connection. One that Blitzø currently didn’t seem to give a flying fuck about. “Uh, how did you kill them?”

The question at least seemed to pique Blitzø’s interest, as he actually turns around and puts down the binoculars to answer it. “How? I mean, there was a lot of ‘em, so… bullets?”

“Right! Right. So… what made you decide to plan a date after all this time?”

Shit. “Uuuuuuhhh��” Blitzø scratches the back of his head, trying to think of what to say. Fuck, don’t be a dick, don’t be a dick, don’t-

Thankfully, for all of you, you’re sure, he doesn’t get to finish whatever he was about to try and say, as the lights dim and Fizzarolli’s voice sounds through the lounge. “Ladies and gentlemen! I see some sexy faces around here tonight.” He descends down the pole right in the middle of the stage, and you notice his greeting routine sounds different. It’s a weird feeling to see so much change since you left. “Welcome, welcome to Ozzie’s, Lust Ring’s number one place for all kinds of sick, twisted fantasies, put on display for all you sleaze and sleazettes, the gem joint of Asmodeus himself. Come on, give him some love!”

“Did he just say Asmodeus?” Stolas questions out loud.

“He likes to make an appearance sometimes,” you explain, but, internally, it made you nervous. You did not need Ozzie to see you on a date tonight.

Stolas nods, and Blitzø lets out a groan. “Oh, no fucking way. Not him!” He hides his face behind the menu that had been placed in front of him, and he’s still never told you what happened between him and Fizz, but that has to be a bit dramatic, doesn't it? 

“I am the one and only Fizzarolli.” The clown continues, pulling up a Loo Loo Land flyer with his robotic version, ‘Robo Fizz’, on it. “Some of you might recognize this dashing clown face from my numerous replicas across the rings of Hell, gloriously designed by the big man himself, and uh,” he traces his hand up his own robotic arm in a rather suggestive way, “ribbed for your pleasure tonight. We have a great lineup for you tonight: Verosika Mayday, Wet Dream, and The Squirters!” 

The lights shine on them, and suddenly you understand Blitzø’s need to hide. “Shit, she’s here?”

“Do you know her?” Stolas asks you, and you don’t reply.

“But as everyone’s warming up, I got a funny one for y’all!” Fizz keeps on. “Did any of you hear about the batshittery that happened at Loo Loo Land?” He laughs. “Oh yeah, I’ll tell you what, I’d sure love to shake the hand of the crazy son of a bitch who decided to burn down that off-brand shithole, and then slap a fat subpoena in it, ‘cause I’m very much looking to sue. That robo-me made us more money entertaining those kids than the ones we sell to get you freaks off, if you know what I mean.”

Someone in the lounge stands up from their seat, waving their hand around. “I know! I know what you mean! I have four of ‘em!” They announce, loud and proud, and you realize their date is one of those. It’s freaky enough for you to know security’s sure to keep an eye on them for the rest of the night to make sure they stay far away from Fizzarolli.

“So! Without wasting more time! Our little opening act is a fresh one, coming at us from a little imp from the Wrath Ring. Give it up for… Moxxie! With no creative stage name whatsoever.”

Moxxie stands up, taking his guitar with him, and kisses Millie before taking Fizzarolli’s place on the stage. That he hadn’t told you about, and knowing it was probably because he wanted to keep that moment to themselves makes you feel shitty about being there. He taps the mic before speaking. “Hello, everyone. Um. Hi. Thank you for letting me be here. It’s an honor to play.” Someone yells at him to hurry up, and he looks a bit nervous at it before he keeps on. “This song is for my beautiful wife, a surprise for our first anniversary. I love you, Millie.”

I love you More than the brimstone loves the fire, more than beelze loves her bub, more than a maggot loves gangrenous stubs You make my spirit sing Yeah, you make me glad I live in Hell Our love is a story sweet to tell Yeah, you cast a special Satanic spell over my heart Love is a journey we decided to start Yeah, I hope we’ll never, ever be apart I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I-

Shit, Moxxie.

If he had told you about this, you would have warned him Ozzie’s was not the right place to perform a love song. But he didn’t, and so…

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,”, Ozzie and Fizz sang along, making their way onto the stage, very clearly mocking and laughing at him. 

Who’s singing love songs in my lustful lounge?

So Ozzie was performing tonight. Must be in a good mood. 

Ozzie’s ain’t the place for sentimental sounds!

What’d you expect from a proprietor like us?

Your demon host, Asmodeus, the embodiment of lust…

Give me a thrust! Show me some lust! From the groin to the bust, in desire we trust, in the House of Asmodeus

Trumpet! Gah!

Little imp, you came here to sing your serenade Perform your feelings in the velvety stage Well, we got a saying that’s popular in these parts

‘Only little bitches strum the strings of their hearts’

You wanna hang around this lustful town? Ditch the lovey-dovey before we knock you around

How hypocritical.

In here we sing about wants and desires

Depravity, savagery, loins hotter than fire!

So give me a thrust Show me some lust From the groin to the bust Little imp, you just must In the House of Asmodeus Come on, sing us a song! Make sure the subject is getting it on Make it graphic and tactfully long

Make sure to rhyme ‘thong’ and ‘schlong’!

Go ahead, the mic’s on!

After a good while of tossing Moxxie around as Ozzie and Fizz sang, they set the mic in front of him once again. He takes a deep breath before strumming his guitar and giving it a try.

I want to 

Yeah, what do you want? Butt stuff? Piss play? Bondage?

Make gentle love to you

Oh, Moxxie. 

Ugh, what a limp-dick imp, you’re really killing the vibe Get a load of this dweeb and his unsatisfied bride!

Blitzø stands up from his seat. Why the fuck is he standing up from his seat? 

“Hey now, I’ve watched those two pork many times, and, honestly, they make missionary look relatively exciting!” 

You should have known he’d feel the need to try and defend them in some way, but this was really, really not a good idea. If you didn’t want any of your friends to see you there up until then, now he’d managed to basically call out for their attention. 

“What? Blitz!” Moxxie yells out, as if he can’t believe he’s actually there. His eyes find you too, and he furrows his eyebrows together. You feel ashamed that you ended up there, and even more so that his moment was getting ruined in so many ways.

Fizzarolli opens a grin. “Is that Blitzo? So you’re showing your face?”

Hey, everybody!  This guy’s a total disgrace Some nerve you got to comment on a relationship Last I checked, your love life is a pile of shit!

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Verosika stands up, the lights immediately panning to her, and she joins in. 

Oh, Blitzo? I used to date him 

“Oh, Verosika, you’re here.”

I’d stroke him, I’d fellate him But when it was my turn He did no reciprocating  A selfish imp in the sheets  And just as bad on the streets A reckless, heart-breaking freak

You silently pray to Lucifer for her to not see you, or just not mention you, or-

“Oh am I interrupting your date, y/n?” She spits out. 

I should have known it I should have guessed you’re not above it  How long left till they’re abandoned? Do they know they’re not your standard?  The prince would better watch out Just get too close and he’s out Give it some time, she’ll flake out

You look down at your hands over your lap and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Stolas looks between you and Blitzø, trying to assimilate what just happened. “Did the both of you date her?”

Who’s that at your table? Is your date a demon prince? Stolas, is that you?

Are you sleeping with an imp?

My dark lord, how the mighty do fall! You used to have a smoking wife, a kid, you had it all! I hope you didn’t give it up so they could help you get it up…

Stolas hides his face behind the menu, not unlike Blitzø had done earlier, like he’s… embarrassed to be called out for being on a date with the two of you. It feels like a gut punch, to come down to the realization that, yeah, of course he’s embarrassed, he’s a prince, for Lucifer’s sake. 

Your eyes feel like they’re burning, and you have to hold back tears from streaming down your face. 

You sold your life for a thrust! Now that’s the spirit of Lust Grab your groin or a bust You better get your hair mussed Pretend you don’t see that crust Hump ‘till your junk turns to dust In the House of Asmode-

You stand up in preoccupation for Millie when she simply knocks Fizzarolli down to the ground. 

“Hey!” Ozzie exclaims, helping Fizz get up. You see the rage in his eyes- Millie was crazy to have done that- and he looks back at you. The worry in your expression and the furious shaking of your head, wordlessly asking him not to do anything, are accepted, and Millie is left unharmed purely for the sake of you. 

“I think you were tryin’ to sing somethin’ for me, Mox.”

“Yeah, I was.”

I love us I love us just the way we are Don’t have to pretend to like to do things we don’t I’ve always got you around to laugh at my stupid jokes I’ll never take you for granted I’ll always give you my best If you can offer the same thing we’ll handle the rest ‘Cause I love you ‘Cause I love you

Blitzø looks undoubtedly hurt and undeniably uncomfortable and, shit, it was very much warranted. You felt the exact same, ashamed of getting called out by Verosika, hurt by having Ozzie of all people put you all on blast, feeling stupid for feeling hurt by Stolas so very clearly looking embarrassed to be seen on a date with you. 

Stolas looks worried, but doesn’t get to form any words before Blitzø speaks up. “You know what, this was a mistake, alright? Let’s just- let’s just leave.”

For the first time the entire night, you agree with him. “Yeah. We should go.”

“Oh. Right. Of course,” Stolas agrees, and the three of you get up, making your way to the exit. You didn’t even get to try the fucking wine. 

You glance back at Ozzie on your way out, and he raises his eyebrows in concern when his eyes meet yours. You know that face. He only just realized he hurt you with what he did, and you know he’ll let you be for the rest of the night, but you’re sure to expect him to show up at your place tomorrow to apologize. 

You also take a glance at Millie and Moxxie, still on the stage, and mouth an ‘I’m sorry’ to them before exiting the place. 

The drive to Stolas’ place is quiet and uncomfortable and it makes holding yourself back from crying much, much harder. You’re not even sure why Stolas is getting a ride, as he’d portaled himself to Ozzie’s and could very much just portal himself back home, but it’s not like you’re gonna bring that up. 

Much too tall for the I.M.P. van, he’s crammed in the backseat, and struggles a little before managing to get himself out of the car. 

Before leaving, he leans on the passenger’s window, facing you and Blitzø and nervously trying to get himself to say something. “Thank you, for… inviting me out tonight.” Blitzø turns away to face his other side and you keep your eyes glued to the windshield, both unable to look him in the eye. “Despite everything that’s happened, I… I enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Yeah,��� is all Blitzø says, and you simply nod.

“You know, I have some more wine in the house. Octavia’s with her mother this weekend, so we could…”

“I’m not fucking you tonight, okay? I’m really just… I’m really not in the mood, alright?” He nudges you with his elbow, and you swear you see him wipe down a tear. “If you wanna take this one go ahead.”

“I-”

“We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle?”

For the first time since leaving Ozzie’s, you manage to properly look at Stolas. Was he serious? Would he genuinely be okay with that after what just happened? Could he genuinely be okay to be in your presence without sex involved? 

“Stolas, don’t act like what we have is anything but you wanting us to fuck you, okay?” 

“Blitz-“

“No. You too. Are you actually falling for the shit he says? Fucking watch a movie and cuddle? You know exactly what he wants from us. He just says what he thinks he has to to get in our pants. I thought you weren’t that stupid.” 

You scoff at his words and get out of his car silently, as you can’t believe he just said that to you.

“What, you’re not coming?” 

Tears are threatening to roll down your face again, and it makes you angry. “Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?”

“Fine. Stay with him then. Congrats to the fucking happy couple!” 

With that lovely yell, he takes off. 

“Are you alright, dearest? You can come in if you-“ Stolas reaches for you, but you can’t help but back off, not allowing him to touch you. He lets his hand fall back to his side. 

“Could you just send me back to Ozzie’s? Looks like I don’t have a ride anymore.”

“Are you sure you want to be there? What he did was-“

“I- I’ll talk to him. They won’t poke fun at you because of us again, Your Highness. No need to worry.”

He grimaces at your words, and you’re fully aware why.  You haven’t called him that in a long time. In fact, you realize you did it to be cruel. To hurt him. 

To hurt yourself into remembering your place in relation to him. You almost want him to argue with you. To understand what you meant and tell you he doesn’t look down on you, that he doesn’t feel ashamed. 

And yet he only accepts what you say with a nod.  “Good night, y/n.” 

Maybe Blitzø isn’t wrong.

You nod once instead of saying it back- you don't trust your voice to come out.

He seems to want to say something else but refrains from doing so, only waving his hand to cast the spell you requested him to. In a mere second you materialize back at Ozzie’s, but not in the lounge, thankfully- in the waiting room in front of his office. 

You break down crying the very moment you gain bearing of your surroundings. 

A/N sorry for the shitty lyrics i added to house of asmodeus it was sadly necessary lmaoooo

[trashcanfanfics]

i would like to ask an imagine ir headcannons about Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Vox and Blitzø when their s/o tells them "i love you" for the first time

I think I did something like this for Alastor and Vox in an overlord headcanon ask but I'll do them for Angel, Husk, and Blitz :)

Edit: I can't fuckin believe I forgot Husk goddammit

Angel Dust:

You were tired after a very long day of just trying to go to the store to stock up the hotel kitchen. Charlie had unfortunately made you the unlucky soul to go out to do it. You found it hard to hate her, but in this moment you disliked her extremely. The car you'd been loaned was stolen and you had to try and carry everything back on your own. No one from the hotel was answering their phone, except your boyfriend who was on the other side of the Pentagram for a show. So you were on your own and completely fucked.

Hours later, you've been in several fights over these groceries and hit with the car that was stolen from you, but you finally made it to the hotel. Up the steps and stumbling your way to the kitchen, you think about how to ease your aching body.

The groceries put away, and a new list for tomorrow to get the things you'd lost/went bad in the time it took to get home, you flop on your bed with a groan. A few minutes later you fell asleep.

You woke up to a commotion. Groggy, you sat up and winced at the ache in all of your limbs. The noises sounded distant, like it was in the lobby, but loud enough to rouse you from a fitful nap. You stood with a slight stumble to go see what it could be, and to possibly tell whoever it is to shut the fuck up.

On the stairs, you heard Angel's voice yelling and more angry than you've ever known him to be. Charlie's voice came softer, trying to mediate between the other angry voice. It seemed like Vaggie and Angel were going at it again. You made your way slowly down the stairs, wincing at the pain in your feet and knees from your little adventure today.

"You fucks! You sent them out to get some stupid fuckin' groceries and you don't even make sure they're okay after they called you so many fuckin' times!" All four of his arms were waving around and his eyes were slightly bloodshot from the exertion of yelling at the top of his lungs. Vaggie looked ready to kill him again, and with a bit of shame mixed into her expression.

"Angel, I'm sure they're fine--" Charlie was cut off by Angel's yelling once again.

"They aren't answerin' their phone! None of you assholes have seen 'em! If they're so fuckin' fine then where the goddamn fuck are they?!" He stops a moment to catch his breath. "Where are they?" His voice changed from anger to desperation. His four shoulders slumped as he looked at the ground. You cleared your throat.

"Uh, Angel?" You voice was rough from the nap. He whipped around, the movement causing you to sway with dizziness. "Woah..." Angel hurried over to you and grabbed you up in all his arms, squeezing you tight.

"Oh my god, I thought something happened to you!" He pulled back to look at you, your eyes tired, your limbs limp, scratches and cuts and forming bruises. "Why...Why are you so banged up?" You blinked and looked at him before shaking your head.

"I'm tired." You had barely said the sentence before Angel scooped you up and took you back upstairs. Vaggie's distant huff of annoyance and Charlie's "glad you're okay!" were the last things from the conversation as Angel took you back to your room.

Thanks for carrying me, babe." You were placed on your soft bed and Angel made quick work of taking off your shoes. He didn't answer as he went to the connected bathroom. You heard the faucet start before you saw him enter the room again. "Angel?"

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" His voice sounded angry, but in a hollow way. Not accusatory, not really. It sounded worried, haunted almost. He made his way to you and helped you out of your shirt. "I called you. A lot." Your heart ached worse than the rest of your body at the small tone.

"It was broken when some of the groceries were stolen." You pointed to the night stand, where you placed the broken remnants of your poor phone. Angel glared at it like it was the one to blame for everything wrong in his life. He helped you get out of the rest of your clothes and into the tub.

"Let me help." He grabbed a rag and cleaned your scratches and cuts. His hands were gentle and he apologized softly every time you winced. He helped dry you off and bandaged the worse of the cuts before allowing you to change into fresh underwear and pajamas.

You two were cuddled up in your bed. His arms gently around you and your head in his fluff. Angel had been soft and quiet this entire time. It made you think that he probably thought something more serious had happened. You thought about the last thing you said to him before he left to work. "Get going, bitch" wasn't what you would want to leave him with.

"Hey, you still up?" Angel only groaned in response and you decided to continue. "I want you to know that I love you." Angel only held you tighter at your words. You knew he reciprocated and you snuggled up closer before falling into a better sleep.

Blitz:

All day you wanted to talk to him. All day you waited patiently for him to be done with work. He just kept getting busy. You hadn't even gotten more than a "hi" with a small peck. Normally that'd satisfy you, you would be fine all day with that. Today was different. Today was exactly 666 days since you started dating. You'd been counting and wanted to do a silly anniversary like all the other dumb couples.

"I can't even be mad at him." You flopped on your couch. "He wasn't counting with me. This was just me being sentimental." You rolled over and curled on your side. It felt ridiculous to be upset about it. Childish. A ping from your phone dragged you out of your wallowing for a second. You picked it up.

Blitz Baby <3: Wanna get takout tnite

You: Are you asking a question?? Or is this you demanding??

Blitz Baby <3: Asking

You: Then yes ;*

Blitz Baby <3: ;* ;* ;*

You giggled, feeling a little bit better. Maybe you two could finally watch that movie you'd been wanting to for a while. A newfound excitement filled you. You loved things like this. Nights in, watching movies or playing games or even just talking. Simple, just you two. Intimacy in the best way. You're sure Blitz felt the same. He seemed to really enjoy both your alone time together.

The both of you communicated a time and decided to chill at your place this time. You'd gotten the food, cleaned up a little, got into the nicest comfy clothes you had. Everything was set and perfect and cozy. There was even a pillow fort and plenty of blankets. You were buzzing with excitement when you heard your phone pinged.

Blitz Baby <3: Mite hv t reshcedg som thn came up

You: Aw what?? :( Okay...

Blitz Baby <3: Gimme liek 30 min I try tmak it short

You: Okay

Somehow you knew this was going to happen. It always did when you wanted to hang out. Work took him too long, you had your own job, his thing with the owl prince. Too many things got in the way. But you were stubborn and had the attitude that if something wanted to take him from you, it'd have to pry him from your cold dead hands. Tonight that was kinda squandered.

Hours had gone by and still no sign from him. No text, no call, no knock on the door. Nothing. A part of you was worried something happened; the rest was just upset. Not at him, but the universe. You were laying on your couch, pillow fort taken down in a fit of sadness. Only a few pillows were allowed to stay to help comfort you. You put his food in the fridge and ate most of yours already. A little bit was saved because he liked to eat some of your plate like he liked to feed you some of his.

A knock at your door roused you from your almost sleep. You sniffed and rolled off the couch to head towards the door. Attempting to rub the redness from your eyes, you curse yourself for allowing yourself a small cry over some arbitrary thing you made up. A giant bouquet was shoved into your face.

"What the--!" You grab the offending flowers and look to the criminal responsible for the attack. There, stood in the hallway of your apartment building, was your boyfriend. "Blitz what the fuck? I thought you were busy?" His cat like grin grew on his face as he slithered by you into your apartment.

"Well, I was but, y'know." He went to the fridge and pulled out the food, popping it into the microwave. You grabbed your scissors to cut the ends at an angle only to find they'd already been cut. Blitz handed you a vase.

"You wanna watch a movie?" You put the water filled vase on the table and discard the wrapper on the flowers. "I've got that we talked about one in the dvd player already." The microwave beeped as he agreed with a hum.

"The flowers really go with the paint." They didn't but you appreciate the thought. You both left them to their vase and awful puke green wall paint.

The couch was still kind of warm from your sad wallowing earlier. You curled up to an arm on one side as he snuggled up beside you, feeding you bites every so often. Your arm was around his shoulders. The movie was some B-list horror about lake fungus coming alive and mutating the wildlife. It was probably some sort of message about saving nature or some shit, but it was funny and full of camp.

"I wanted to tell you something, by the way." You set your head on one of his huge horns. "It's kinda dumb."

"Yeah, so are a lot of things." He didn't move his head, but lifted up a forkful of whatever he was eating. "Shoot." You took the bite and chewed slowly, thinking over how you wanted to word this without sounding like the dumbest bitch in Hell.

"Today was a stupid little thing that I wanted to celebrate." You started. You felt him tense up. "It wasn't major, more like a fun thing that doesn't mean anything." You've said "thing" too many times. Abort! Abort!

"Well, what was it?" He finally moved so he could look at at you. You looked down and back to the tv. A breath or two and you thought more about what you wanted to say.

"It's been exactly 666 days since we started dating and I thought that was funny so I wanted to celebrate it like an anniversary." You stared at the credits rolling on the screen. "It doesn't matter, it was kinda dumb." You shrugged your shoulders. Blitz gently grabbed your face and made you look at him.

"I counted the days too." He admitted with a small smile, his brows knitted together. "It's kinda why I wanted to hang out today." He flops back into your side. You let out a small "oof". He fed you another bite of food before tossing the empty container onto the coffee table. The imp wiggled around to get comfy. You laughed a little and laid down so you'd both be comfy. Arms wrapped around each other, you couldn't be happier.

"I love you." You blurted after a few moments of silently tracing his white spot. Looking down, you saw Blitz already asleep. "Jesus Christ it's only been a minute." You let out a sigh of amused exasperation. That sentence can be used tomorrow to make it hard for him to leave for work in the morning.

Husk:

All day had been a living nightmare. You hadn't had the chance to sit longer than a minute at any given time. Charlie had her hands full with her and Vaggie's visit to the center of the Pride Ring. Some family reunion; the news was covering every appearance of another Prince of Hell and their immediate family. With the Pride Princess's attention elsewhere, she left most of the paper work to you. Today was full of talking with contractors and running around to get materials for the fixing of the Hotel. You'd been cussed out, smacked, overloaded, looked down on, and laughed at. In other words, you were overwhelmed and exhausted. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, maybe even cry.

Husk watched you run in and out the entire day. He'd seen how you looked worse and worse as the minutes ticked by. There was a pang in his chest every time you would do a half wave with a tired smile every time you passed him. He hated to see you so overworked. If he remembered correctly, Alastor was supposed to be doing half the work you were trying to juggle. Said asshole was smiling smugly in the shadows, watching you struggle with sadistic glee. Husk could feel the sticky air that hung around the red bastard nearby. It pissed him off, and Alastor knew it. That was worse.

"Finally done?" Husk grumbled out as you threw down a stack of paperwork you still had to do and sat on a bar stool. He glared at the documents. You sighed and laid your head on the cool, polished wood of the bar top. Husk winced at the way your back cracked as you went basically boneless. He poured you a cup of orange juice. A book somewhere said something about orange slices being a good idea after sports; this was the closest thing he had. The exhaustion on your face was heartbreaking as you looked at the glass.

"I don't want to exist right now." Your mumbled wish was emphasized by a small sniff. Husk put his clawed hand on your head and gave you a small scratch. You always did that when he was feeling down, maybe this could help you too. A small sigh of bliss was a good encouragement.

"What a heartwarming moment! I didn't think you had it in you, Husker!" The bane of your existence finally decided to show himself. You groaned at his loud voice interrupting the small bit of calm you were enjoying. The Radio Demon sat down next to you and threw an arm around your tired form.

"Go fuck yourself, you bastard." Husk threw Alastor's arm off you. Static popped as Alastor fixed his hair nonchalantly. You gave your lover a tired smile of appreciation. His undead heart ached at the sight.

"Now, now, no need to be crass!" The ever smiling demon laughed, making you wince. Husk's ears flattened as his anger flared. "If they wanted to be left alone, all they'd need to do is ask." That seemed to be the final straw for the cat.

"The only reason they're too tired to even be near you is because you're an asshole who loves to watch people suffer!" Husk pointed a claw at the red menace. His tail thrashed behind him, wings puffed up to make him look bigger. "Not only that, you're even more exhausting today because of your fuckin' smug face. You know you were supposed to help them today but you enjoy causing people misery more than you like controlling everything so you decided to hide in the shadows like the piece of shit you are!" You raised your head at Husk's outburst, jaw hung open. You'd never seen your boyfriend so mad.

"Husk--" You tried to comfort or calm him down. The last this you wanted was for Alastor decide to torture Husk over one bad day. Alastor's smile grew more amused at every word. Husk's glare grew with it. The deer demon threw his arm around your shoulders again and pulled you to his side.

"Would you look at that! You see how your loverboy raises his hackles! What a show, don't you think dear?" His grip tightened on you as you tried to push him away. You didn't have the energy to tell him off today, nor the strength to shove him off his stool, it seemed. Husk growled.

"Get your. Fuckin' hands. Off them." Husk's words were said through gritted teeth. Alastor was about to say something but Husk hissed at him. You felt like you were sitting in the middle of a vortex. They were both staring each other down with an intensity you'd never seen before. Miraculously, Alastor let you go and stood up.

"Fine, fine, I suppose I should be getting to work, anyhow." And with a snap of the deer's fingers, he was gone, along with the paperwork you'd placed on the bar top. A sigh slipped from your lips as you placed your head back down in relief. You really thought you were about to witness Husk's second death. It took the last bit of energy you had.

"Sorry 'bout that." Husk rounded the bar and gently scooped you into his arms. "Didn't mean to make you feel worse." You only groaned in response as you rested your head against his chest. He carried you upstairs and to his room.

Husk's room was the same design as yours when you first got here. A standard red wallpaper with dark wood furniture, red sheets and dim lighting. He hadn't bothered to change it, other than some of your clothes littering the floor. There were a few knickknacks you'd given him, some from his apartment. He'd always act aloof or uninterested when you'd give him something in the beginning of your relationship, but you knew he liked them.

"Wait here." He gently placed you on the bed. You basically moaned as you sank into the soft mattress. He left the room and you heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. You used this time to take off your shoes and get comfier in the bed. The weight of your eyelids caused you to close them.

Husk re-entered the room, the sound of the door clicking back closed making you open your eyes again. He walked over to you and offered the glass of orange juice from earlier. You smiled and sat up a bit to drink some of it.

"Husk." Your eyes blinked slowly before looking up at him with a slightly bigger, tired smile. "I love you." The words made him tense up. He looked at the lamp across the room, his tail twitched at the end and wings fluffed up then back down. You waited patiently for his response. He fidgeted a bit more before looking at you then back down at the half empty cup in your hand.

"You should sleep, you look exhausted." He gently too the cup from you and set it on the nightstand. You laid back down and he went to turn off the light and draw the curtains. It left you in near darkness. You tensed slightly when you felt him crawl up beside you, but soon relaxed. He pulled you into his gentle embrace and covered you both with a wing as his tail curled over your thigh. A gentle purr lulled you into a much needed sleep.

"Love you too." The grumbled words were the last thing you registered before rest fully took over.

[tronmike82]

Loona and her father’s evolving relationship Part 1

Now that Loona has finally told Blitzø that she loves him; I think the next step should be for her to apologize for all the harm she’s caused him. (he’s already forgiven her, but she still needs this, for her own sake.)

In particular I feel like she needs to bring up;

1) Throwing away that gift he tried to give her in Pilot.

2) Screaming at him for interrupting her attempt to ask out Tex in Spring Broken.

3) Throwing a tantrum when he tried to talk to her about why she was treating him so badly -and kicking him in the groin when he tried to hug her later on- in Seeing Stars. (Blitzø should also apologize for threatening to replace her, I know he didn’t mean it; but that was still a horrible thing to say)

4) Giving him that awful awful relationship advice in The Full Moon. (she should also apologize to Stolas, since he was hurt just as much by it.)

As for what causes her to apologize; the pictures, specifically the ones that Blitzø scribbled over his own face.

Loona looks at them, and genuinely, truly, sees them, it hits home just how much she’s hurt him; and she breaks, i mean like, uncontrollable crying; puffy eyes, red in the face, tears pouring down her cheeks, snot dribbling out of her nose, barely able to speak through all of the coughing and hiccups, the whole nine yards.

And through all of it, she’s able to force out a genuine apology, (it hurts, a lot, but hey; healing hurts, and when you love someone, you’re willing to hurt for them) and when Blitzø and Stolas say they’ve already forgiven her; she still feels the need to make up for it somehow, and decides to give up alcohol, and then Blitzø decides to quit drinking too, because he wants to support his daughter.

Also she should call Stolas “Papa”

Her reasonings for this: “well yeah, I can’t call you dad, that’d be confusing.”

Stolas: “Loona.”

Loona: “it took me over 4 years to start calling Dad “Dad” and it made us both miserable, I’m not making that mistake again, so yeah; you’re my Papa. And that makes ‘Via, my sister.”

Finally; they have to find a new apartment; Blitzø and Stolas need to an actual bed, the couch just isn’t cutting it.

To be continued.

[bleucaesura]

WAITING TO WANT YOU LESS - 1 / ?

(Companion piece to “Over You”)

***

Stolas jarred awake.

Alarm screaming in his ear, he was tangled in his bedsheets, still in his clothes from the night before, head spinning, hedging what was going to be a massive hangover.

Fuck.

He heaved upright in bed, trying to get out of the sheets and scramble out of bed; a hand slapping over his beak.

Not gonna make it.

He settled for collapsing over the side of his bed and hurling his entire stomach contents on his bedroom floor.

Twice in as many days… Yay me…

He slapped his alarm off and wiped the remnants of last night’s festivities off of his face. He rolled back onto the bed with a groan and magicked away the mess on the floor. The effort left his head ringing like someone had smashed a giant gong inside his brain.

Ok… No magic… Understood.

He’d love to tell himself - or anyone who asked - that it had been a long time since the last time he’d felt like this. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t even say it had been a short time since he’d felt like this. In fact… He was starting to think that feeling like this had become his new normal.

Whatever the fuck that means…

He really should get up. Get out of last night’s clothes. Have a bath. Wash away whatever these smells on him were.

Stolas sat up, sniffed his shirt front and was slapped in the face by the smell of a cologne he didn’t recognize.

What the…?

Last night came rushing back, hitting him like a freight train.

Oh… Oh my…

Stolas flushed.

The handsome incubus.

Steve? Stan?… Dan…?

He struggled to remember what he’d said his name was. It had been very loud. And they hadn’t really done much talking…

Stolas turned a darker shade of red thinking about it. He slapped his hands over his face, flopped over onto his stomach and screamed into his pillow, his feet doing little childish kicks up and down behind him.

Did I really do that? I don’t do that… Why the heck did I DO that?

He rubbed his face aggressively into his pillow and groaned. Why had he done that? Why had he even gone to the party in the first place?

Oh right… Be honest now, Stolas… To be petty…

Stolas scowled into his pillow. If Blitzø hadn’t shown up yesterday morning, he would have just stayed home. If Blitzø hadn't yelled and been such a prick, he would have been content to wallow in misery alone at home.

If Blitzø…

Stolas could feel tears stinging his eyes, threatening to fall. He’d spent so much time crying already. He didn’t want to cry anymore. He snatched up another pillow to hide under. He sniffled, trying to fight back the tears.

He shot upright like he’d been electrocuted.

No… No no no no no!

He clutched the second pillow over his head and poised to hurl it angrily across the room. But something stopped him. His heart lurched, he tried to swallow the giant lump in his throat, and the tears poured down his face, unbidden.

He held the pillow to himself and hugged it tightly, burying his face in its soft end. He took a deep breath.

Fuck…

The scent on the pillow sent a shiver up and down Stolas’s body, ruffling every feather. He began to shake, clutching the pillow for dear life; a heart-wrenching sob ripped from his gut.

He’d meant to put it away. Get rid of it. Wash it. Something. ANYTHING. But he hadn’t.

Blitzø’s pillow - the one on his side of the bed from all their nights together - had remained on the bed during all the months Blitzø hadn’t come. Stolas had refused to let his staff wash it after their last night together, so it lay on the other side of his big empty bed like a silent placeholder; a promise for their next night together. A hope that Blitzø would come back.

But he hadn’t. Not of his own free will. And in all the empty, lonely nights Stolas had longed for him to come, he would reach out and touch the empty space beneath it, wishing Blitzø were there instead.

When Stolas especially missed him, he would lay his face close to it (never touching, for fear it would lose its scent in favour of his own) and take one small stolen sniff. Just to remember what being near him was like. Just to see his face clearer in his mind for a moment longer. Just to ease the ache in his heart.

Stolas sobbed into the pillow. He no longer cared about preserving the memories, he wanted to smell him and feel as close to him as he could in that moment. And if that stupid pillow was all he could do, then it would suffice.

Why did Blitzø have to be so cruel? Why had he come yesterday morning? Why had he come to the party?

Stolas faltered, tears stopping.

Blitz came to the party…

Stolas felt his stomach drop, leaden and twisted.

Blitzø came to the party... He tried to talk to me…

His grip on the pillow loosened and it sank to his lap. He felt so heavy. Heavy and hollow.

Why couldn’t Blitzø just take the knife out and walk away? Why did he have to keep coming back to push it deeper and give it another twist?… What had he even said?

Stolas smacked himself in the face with the pillow. He didn’t want to think about this anymore. He didn’t want to hurt anymore.

He chucked the pillow across the room. It barely missed landing on the chez lounge, and half hung off the end; teetering on the edge.

Stolas heaved a sigh and wiped at his tears, his sleeve coming back covered in mascara.

“I must be a frightful mess.” He muttered to himself.

He reached for his phone, thinking he’d reverse the camera and use it as a mirror, and found it dead.

Figures…

He magicked the power cord over, plugged it in and was rewarded with a stabbing pain in his brain.

Right… Hangover… Magic equals brain hurty…

Stolas groaned and chastised himself internally. He sighed and dug his talons into the bed sheets. He looked over his shoulder at his big empty bed. At the empty space where Blitzø used to sleep. The space that may very well always be empty…

The urge to curl up and sleep forever was overwhelming. But instead, Stolas stood, walked into his bathroom and closed the door, refusing to look back again.

*****

[myrxellabaratheon]

Since tomorrow the new short will drop, I’m rewatching (for like the 10th time) Helluva Boss and something about Loo Loo Land just hit me: Via says it’s a rip off of Lucifer’s LuLu Land and considering that Lucifer and Mammon are, to use Bee’s words, “sibling but not really siblings so it’s not weird” so you think Lucifer just doesn’t care?

Like, I doubt Mammon asked for permission (he very likely just saw something working and decided to make a profit out of it), but I also doubt Lucifer doesn’t know (also considering it’s in Pride).

And I know Lucifer spent seven year in isolation when Lilith left so does this mean Mammon waited for that moment to open LooLoo Land? If this is the case it wouldn’t make sense that Via and Stolas visited it when she was a child (she’s clearly younger than 10 in the portrait).

Which means Mammon’s rip off has been around since before. BUT also Stolas is super rich, why take his daughter to the rip off version? Is it for emotional attachment reasons? Is LooLoo Land located in the same place where the Buckzo circus used to be? Did Stolas recognized robo-Fizz from the publicity stuff of LooLoo Land and hoped Blitzø was still working in the circus?!

I’VE SO MANY QUESTIONS!!

[thatstonedwriter]

Loona's Long Nose Post

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: This is a crack piece based on a prompt I've been talking with an anon about. If you want the context, check out the Loona's Long Nose Post tag. Hope y'all can tolerate my attempts at humor. I also decided to expand the prompt a bit and add some fluff. I know the anon originally asked for a fem reader but I ended up keeping it gender neutral.

Content; platonic crack, fluff, gender neutral, no pronouns

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At first, you thought nothing of it. Some new structure in the distance; it looked almost like a telephone pole. At least.. You could've sworn it was. But why did it keep getting taller?

It wasn't long until you decided to investigate. Trying to find the source was like looking for the end of a rainbow. Whatever it was, it was getting tall enough to rival the buildings of Imp City.

After a while of navigating the city, you start getting closer, zeroing in on the source of this strange phenomena. You race through the sketchy alleyways and dank tunnels. Then you turn a corner to see..

"Loona?!"

"Agh- Fuck!!"

Loona's looking up- she has to, because she needs to balance her nose- wait, that's what you've been chasing after all day?!

"How and why-"

"It's been like this all fucking day! Some dumbass kids thought it would be funny to cast a spell or some shit- ugh," She stumbles, managing to catch herself. "I'm gonna fucking kill them!" Loona screams, attempting to kick a nearby trashcan.

Unfortunately, due to the sheer fucking length of her nose, Loona lost her balance. She'd expected to hit the ground. She would've preferred to hit the ground. Instead, she has to deal with the humiliation of doing that Michael Jackson lean because her nose is propped up on a nearby building. And that only made things worse..

"What do I do," Loona groans. She stumbles back, regaining her balance with your assistance, and decides to sit with her back against the wall. She leans her head back, wincing. "Fuck, its killing my neck too. Would you uh.. mind helping me out..?"

She's hesitant, not wanting to seem selfish. Loona hasn't been used to asking for favors or being vulnerable, but you've changed that. Not to say Loona doesn't appreciate her other friends, but it's not exactly the same. Millie's usually preoccupied with Moxxie or spending more time with Blitzø. Blitzø is.. A whole other thing entirely. You're the first friend who has put in this much time, effort, and care.

She understands if you're not comfortable with initiating physical contact. Your company was already enough to start making her feel more relaxed.

"Hey.. Seems like your nose is uh.. going back to normal," you say. And it's true! Slowly but surely, at least.

"Yeah, not fast enough," Loona rolls her eyes- and sees her nose start to grow again. "Oh come on!!" 

"Wait wait wait! I think.. Maybe the spell is activated when you're upset, and deactivated when you relax.. "

"Seriously, you're just guessing that?"

"Yeah, so? We're working with limited information, here."

Loona rolls her eyes, huffing and combing her hands through her hair. "Well how do you suppose I relax with.. This," she gestures to her nose, giving you a (dare I say) bombastic side eye.

"I dunno. Let's just distract you.. Do you have music or anything? Or want to talk?"

Whatever it was, your methods worked. While Loona still had some.. Flare ups.. She's been managing to keep her nose from getting too long.

It's definitely not easy, but that's why she's glad she has you.

[pipsqueakparker]

New Fic!

processing time

Summary:

Set immediately following Western Energy, Blitz spends the night processing the day's events and trying to tamp down the feelings it all brought up. rating: T, words: 1,708

Special shoutout to @halothenthehorns who asked to be tagged when I posted this - I'm sharing it earlier than I planned so here you go!

*** *** *** *** *** ***

I might be here a while, if you ever want to visit.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?! Blitzø wants to scream, so he shoves his face into the tattered arm of his couch and does just that. His eyes are burning, fucking wet because his body has this incessant need to cry when that’s the last fucking thing he wants to do. His head is pounding, spinning actually, and he feels like his entire fucking body is one step away from spontaneously combusting. As if the day wasn’t already one of the worst of his fucking life, now Stolas is pulling his weird fucking bullshit after having the audacity to almost fucking die?! Blitzø pulls his phone back out, starts typing, but even he’s not sure what he’s saying. He can’t even see the screen, just a blurry mess of light through these fucking tears. Fuck!

There’s a knock at the door before Blitzø can hit send on whatever shit he’s just put in the text box. It’s a sign, he decides, and tosses his phone to the floor as he wipes his eyes and stands to answer the door. He can’t figure out who it could possibly be, but his muscles still feel too-tense and too-tight from the stress of the day, his chest is bubbling with fury, whoever the fuck it is they better have a good fucking reason to be knocking on his door at… whatever time it fucking is!

He swings the door open with a snarl, ready to unleash unholy hell on his visitor… but it’s Millie, and the sight of her eases the bubble of rage just enough to spare her from his wrath. He just heaves a loud sigh and takes a step back, “Hey, Millie – Did you forget something in the van?” He’s already patting at his pockets, looking for his keys, when he notices the container Millie’s holding out to him.

“No, nothin’ like that – Moxx and I made these for you, and Loona.”

KEEP READING

[xfangheartx]

Summary- Blitzø and I.M.P. go back to work, and things do happen!

Preview:

  Business went on as usual after that night. Blitzø had shared the news with the rest of the I.M.P Gang about Fizz’s engagement to Ozzie and even revealed that they were all invited to the wedding, though there wasn’t exactly a specific date in mind since Ozzie had to find a place to hold the venue, not to mention the fact that he and Fizz hadn’t exactly made it public yet. Still, they were all very happy for the couple and couldn’t wait for the big day to come.

  For now, though, it was time to get back to doing what they did best: killing people and being paid for it.

  As Blitzø sat at his desk, waiting for any clients to come in, he drummed his fingers on the desk in boredom. While reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and swiped through his contacts.

  Still no word from Stolas. Not even a text.

  Blitzø sighed as he put his phone away. Of course, he still didn’t want to talk to him, right now. He thought maybe after another day had passed, he’d be okay, but it seemed that the prince was adamant about not speaking of him for a while.

  Still, it couldn’t hurt to check on him.

  The imp tapped on his phone before he held it up to the side of his head. The phone rang about eight times but then went straight to voicemail.

   “You’ve reached Prince Stolas of the Goetia. I can’t come to the phone at the moment but will be sure to get back to you at my earliest convenience. Please leave a message.”

  Beep!

  “Uh… hey, Stolas, it’s me,” said Blitzø. “Look… I-I just wanted to make sure you’re all right. I’m not gonna bug you or anything. I know that Halloween was really a rough night for the both of us, but I wanted to be sure that you’re okay, that’s all. You don’t have to call me back, either. I know you need your space right now, so just have Octavia call Loona or Buffy and they can tell me. I’ll see ya later… I mean, when you’re ready to see me.” He gasped. “Oh, and before I forget, I thought I should tell you that Fizz and Ozz are engaged. I mean, I’m pretty sure you knew already, but still. Okay, see ya.”

  With that, he hung up the phone and set it down, just as Buffy opened the door.

  “Daddy, our client’s here,” she said.

  “Thanks, sweetie,” said Blitzø. “Send him in.”

  That’s when this Sinner entered. He looked like a cockroach in a labcoat complete with this set of goggles and black trousers, and his coat had four sleeves to accommodate his four arms.

  “Are you the imp running this assassination establishment?” asked the Sinner.

  “Do you see any other imp around here?” asked Blitzø. “So, what’s your name?”

  “I am Dr. Osvald Pascal III,” said the Sinner in an almost posh manner. “I am here to send out a hit.”

  “On who?” asked Blitzø.

  “Not who, my good sir,” Dr. Pascal said as he put his hands on Blitzø’s desk and leaned forward, eyes narrowing in an almost threatening manner. “Rather, what . You see, being a scientist, I tend to run experiments… and well, this particular one might have gotten a bit out of control. In fact, it’s that beast that did me in.”

  “And whose fault is that?” asked Blitzø.

  “Look, I’ll admit, maybe I’m down here for a reason!” Dr. Pascal admitted. “I might have done some unsavory things when I was alive, but you have to understand something: even I wouldn’t unleash that creature upon the world! Look, I’ll pay you whatever it takes, but just make sure that… that THING dies!” He sighed as he looked at the floor. “There’s no telling what happened to my fellow researchers… I don’t know if any of them escaped or if they were slaughtered, as well.”

  “Fine, fine, we’ll take care of it,” said Blitzø. “I’ll call ya as soon as the job’s done.”

  “Here,” said Dr. Pascal as he handed him the coordinates. “You’ll find the research station here. Take care of it as quickly as possible.” With that, he turned and walked out.

[botanikos]

Stolas knew what he wanted from / with Blitzø, not solely because he was horny and deprived. . . .

After the blunder in which many valuables were stolen from the Goetia mansion, most of the staff were replaced save for a select 2-3 imps who received the "grandfather" privilege for various reasons, but namely, due to the length of servitude already provided.

That being said, visitors were far and few succeeding the events, especially where imps were concerned. Thus continued Stolas' near isolation. While he was thrust into social gatherings with other Goetia and demons of nobility as he grew, Stolas felt very few genuine connections. All of his interactions, in fact, paled in comparison to the time spent with Blitz. In hindsight, the prince understands he was tricked and Blitz might not have been a real friend to him provided the means in which they were brought together. . . . but he still regards their time spent with one another fondly. He had fun. They played games, laughed, Stolas read to him, Blitz listened to the best of his ability until he'd grow bored or impatient, or frustrated not understanding the big words Stolas would use. They teased one another, shared snacks, sat beneath a tree and shared their dreams and aspirations. Stolas CONNECTED with Blitz in that short amount of time. Regardless of how it panned out, what it was built on, that singular day spent with Blitzø is a CORE memory.

Older, engaged, but not yet married. . . . Stolas desperately sought to meet Blitzø again under whatever circumstances possible. He could not, of course, ask for help with this. It didn't happen right away, and there were many, many failed attempts. But eventually, somewhere along the way, Stolas managed to score a few close encounters. They didn't actually get to spend any time together, but it felt all the same for Stolas to simply be in the same vicinity.

Stolas would go on to see several more of Blitz's performances in his family's circus, albeit, never seated in the front row like their first meeting. Instead, the prince always opted for the furthest seat away to make his presence less noticeable. On most occasions, Stolas would leave promptly after Blitz's performance was finished.

There were a few close-calls where he almost sought Blitzø after the shows, but ultimately, he could not bring himself to approach him. Not because of sour feelings, but due to his own nervousness and the understanding that his time had been bought. So the prince worked under the assumption of Blitz remembering him or even wanting to see him, would be next to none. Throughout all of this, Stolas developed a crush on Blitz.

Eventually, however, his studies and responsibilities overtook both time and freedom, and Stolas could no longer chase the circus to its locations, or pursue the distant friendship he once knew.

 ✧･ﾟ･ﾟ✧

Stolas never forgot Blitzø, and the romantically inclined feelings for him never faded. Only, now, as an adult, they were more sexually inclined. With Blitz having had the Grimoire for some time, and Stolas needing it back to perform certain responsibilities, he offered an arrangement that seemed beneficial to them both at the time. A passionate night spent with his first friend and the very person he's had a crush on for years, once a month (sometimes two), in exchange for letting Blitz continue to use the book to obtain hits for his job. Which, mind you, likely made Stolas' desire for him skyrocket. Though it isn't a circus like Blitz mentioned as a kid, it's still HIS company making that dream a reality. Something Stolas can admire and envy, and crave to be a part of.

His feelings for Blitz were never NEW. But with age, and time, and the moments shared - quick or otherwise - they grew into something deeper. Eventually, Stolas understood his feelings to be rooted in something more than lust or a simple craving, but failed to properly communicate them. When he presents Blitz with the Asmodean Crystal, he sees it as an offering with two meanings [ this is the simplest way I can put it ]:

a) I want you to be with me, but without any pretenses, without feelings trapped or coerced. I do not wish for you ONLY be with me for the Grimoire! Here is the surety of such for the both of us! Will you accept and do you want to be with me?

b) I have done wrong, and even if you do not want me, I want you to have this. This is what you actually need and want. Please accept this gift as an apology for my poor decisions and behaviors.

[viktheviking1]

Moxxie had a charcuterie board for every occasion.

He had an array of meats and cheeses for boring Mondays, a different combination with some olives for romantic date nights, and a specific type of cracker that he preferred to eat when he was sad. Millie didn't understand most of the fancy words he used trying to explain the flavor profiles, but she did learn to interpret the boards. Sometimes she even found it easier than reading his face.

So when he walked into the office with a board with the sad crackers, some raisins, what looked to be muenster, swiss, and ham, she immediately knew he was having a pity party.

"Aw, honey. . . Not the raisins. You deserve more than raisins!" Mille rubbed his back as he sat down at the receptionist desk with the tray.

"No, sweetie, I don't. All I wanted to do was to help Blitz and his highness get back together, and all I've done is make things worse." He said, rolling a raisin under his finger, pouting.

"First of all, it was my idea in the first place, so if anything. I ruined their relationship." Millie said, popping a sad cracker in her mouth, and hopping up to sit on the desk "And second, we didn't ruin everything! Nothing's ruined! Stolas probably just needs some time to himself, that's all."

It was then that they heard a knock on the front office door. Moxxie quickly wiped the tears away with a handkerchief, and gave Millie a look, which she knew meant she had crumbs on her face. She grabbed the fancy napkin from him and roughly rubbed her face with it.

Moxxie nodded at her satisfied, “Come in!”

The door opened, revealing none other than Stolas himself, wearing his fancy prince attire, holding his tophat in his hands. It was odd enough for him to be here in the first place. What was even more strange was how nervous he looked.

“See! What’d I tell ya?” Millie whispered, hitting Moxxie happily, who waved her off, “What can we do for you, your highness?”

“H-hello, yes, um . . . “ Stolas cleared his throat, but spoke quietly, pointing at the office door, “Is Blitz here . . .?”

“No. Sorry he . . .” Millie started, then looked to Moxxie for help.

“He wasn’t feeling well so he stayed home today, sir. Loona did as well so she could take care of him.” Moxxie explained.

Stolas seemed to relax a bit at the news, “Oh good. That’s a relief.”

Moxxie and Millie exchanged a look.

“I-I-I mean,” Stolas smoothed out the nonexistant wrinkles in his clothes nervously, “Not that he’s sick! Heavans no! I-I just meant that- well . . . it was actually you two that I wanted to speak with today.”

Millie and Moxxie exchanged another look, worried.

Millie spoke up, “What is it, your majesty?”

Stolas walked over, carefully picked up one of the couches in the waiting area with one hand, placed it in front of the receptionist desk and sat down in front of them, “Well, I was wondering if either of you enjoyed writing letters.”

Moxxie unconsciously looked at Millie, but she just smiled, “What do you mean, your highness?” her voice was warm as honey, the image of innocence.

“Well, you see I recieved this through my mail slot recently.” He pulled out an envelope with his name scrawled out on the front, and placed it on the desk for them to see, “I wanted to know if either of you knew where it came from . . . ?”

The conversation paused for a beat and then Moxxie and Millie spoke simultaneously. Millie hopped to her feet on the desk, pulled a jagged knife out of thin air and shouted, “We’d die before telling you what we know!” At the same time, Moxxie burst into tears and shouted, “We’re sorryyyyy!!!”

Millie looked down at her sobbing husband, placing the hand holding the knife on her hip, “ . . . Babe, really?”

Read more on the Pompous and the Prick

[zac--zappy]

🆂🆃🅾🅻🅰🆂 × 🅻🅾🅾🅽🅰 ( ♂️ )

A very complex couple indeed, but they have good potential to heal each other's scars... Be the person who will understand the past and fix the present.

🦉 `🐺 ⇢︎ #ˢᵗᵒᵒ��ᵃ ᵒʳ #ˡᵒᵒˡᵃˢ ?

My ideas for this ship, In case of updates, probably with the arrival of the new episodes of the second season, I will make a post to let you know !

I think that their story can only begin after a definitive break between Stolas and Blitzø, so after weeks, if not months in which he is unable to contact him or in which he postpones appointments, Stolas asks Octavia for his son's number, and then getting in touch with him, however rude, organizes him out of pity and hope. Which ends in the worst possible way, in a definitive breakup.

‌Loona is told to accompany the royal outside, which he does, standing by and watching him, sorry, knowing how sincere his love is. It's weird for Loona to feel sorry for someone he can't really call hisself attached to, it annoys him.

‌In the period following this, Stolas tries to understand himself, get back on his feet, but it is a pity that the frequent presence of Loona in his house does not help him to forget Blitzø, on the contrary it catalyzes his negative feelings and reflects them towards the hell hound, who for his part does not want to pay attention to it, understanding the delicate situation, also wanting to help in some way, because by chain reaction, if Stolas doesn't feel well, Octavia can't be that cheerful either.

‌So the young wolf tries in some way to do what he can, make himself useful when present, have a healthy conversation at the table as much as possible and clarify himself with Stolas, which he will try to do after weeks of grim and suffering looks, bitter words and a feeling of constant discomfort.

‌❝ Stolas, I need to talk to you ❞

The owl prince doesn't stop, as he simply passes by, which annoys Loona not a little, so he follows him and calls him, once, twice, nothing.

‌He then reaches out to him and places a paw on his nearest shoulder, but is hit by a thoughtful slap. Whereupon the ars goetia withdraws, displeased.

‌❝ O-oh excuse me Loona ! I didn't want to, I don't know what got me... ❞

‌He places his hand on the soft fur of his muzzle, where scratches are now imprinted, and observing his clumsy reaction, he realizes how terribly Blitzø has affected his son, in terms of trust, patience and the negative things he possesses. He is unable to withstand that contact and after showing him a mournful smile made of bitter sweetness, she disappears into his rooms.

‌From here on, Loona will take an interest in the owl's approval, messaging him without Octavia's knowledge, marveling at himself, feeling a heavy sense of guilt as his attraction to the prince grows.

And on the other hand, Stolas, tries to curb, albeit reluctantly, any sort of nice thought about the young wolf, who against all his expectations seems really interested, caring in his own way.

The thing seems to remain within the boundaries that Stolas has set for himself, until an invitation comes to him like a bolt from the blue, at lunch in any bar on an ordinary street, there is really nothing well studied, only the desire to meet for something more than a chat.

The desire is mutual, Stolas wants to control himself and Loona doesn't seem to show any gesture of affection outside the simple invitation, as if he expects something, but the owl is hurt by now, not inclined to risk his heart a second time, especially with the son of his first love, he would be naïve at this point.

I don't really know what could happen, I think Stolas would ask for explanations and Loona would be very disinclined to give any, so he rests his paw on his hand, looking away embarrassed, while the owl prince marvels and remains speechless, just going on with the meeting, chatting about for which Loona strives to look cultured.

‌At the end of this strange meeting, they leave each other with no little embarrassment, but starting to chat more regularly, Loona uses the excuse of asking for advice on his outfit or Stolas's to send or receive photos, both for the desire to feel him close and for the hormones of young age.

[sideblog-usernametaken]

I feel like a lot of the rage at Stella's characterization comes from people making assumptions in the early episodes, and then not being able when those assumptions are proved wrong later on.

Spoilers under the Read More

So the earliest we get to see Stella (Outside her blink-and-you-miss-it appearance in the pilot) is in Episode 2. For the few moments she shows up she's making a massive deal about Stolas cheating on her. Screaming insults at him, throwing things, ect. With a surface level reading, I can see people believing that this is all new behavior that's completely caused by Stolas cheating. With that line of thinking, it's easy to believe that Stella really cared about their relationship and Stolas genuinely hurt her by cheating.

But if you pay any further attention, that's clearly not the case. The entire time she's screaming at him, it isn't about how he cheated on her, it's about how he cheated on her with an Imp. She calls him a disgrace, an embarrassment, but nothing to imply that she cared about the relationship more than its appearance. When she complains it happened in their bed, and Stolas said he "didn't have time to find a motel" her response isn't "That's still cheating!" it's "A motel?! Like a plebeian?!" None of her dialogue actually shows she's angry about the cheating itself. Plus she's extremely haphazard about throwing things, she almost hits Octavia with a potted plant and doesn't react to almost hitting her daughter. Speaking of Octavia, Stella doesn't seem concerned that she can hear her screaming and breaking stuff, or concerned what kind of emotional impact that has on her daughter. The scene very clearly shows that she's classist and doesn't really care about anyone around her.

Then you look at Stolas' behavior in the scene. He doesn't seem at all surprised and he doesn't have any reaction to his plants being thrown around. He seems to have air of resignation about the whole thing. Then he sees his daughter, and he realizes she saw and heard everything. And he immediately switches to his "Everything is fine! How are you doing?" setting. It doesn't work, and he immediately realizes that and tries switching tactics to "Hey let's talk about something you like, what are you listening to?". Then when the band name is a direct insult to him he's concerned but just let's it roll, either because he understands why she might hate him right now (I'll get to it) or because he's so used to having to shrug off insults that it's just his default response. When Octavia asks if they're "done screaming for the day" and Stella immediately proves "no" by audibly screaming and breaking another pot, Stolas switches tactics again to getting her out of the house to somewhere he thinks she'll like. Yeah he's not exactly doing a good job of comforting her because he's kind of glossing over everything that's happening (And how he decides to bring Blitzø with them. I have my thoughts on that too but this is long enough as is and there is no time to unpack that) but you can still see that he at least cares. He doesn't want Octavia to have to deal with her parents fighting, he doesn't want it to be something she's constantly bogged down by.

Also this all comes after the even earlier, even shorter scence, where Octavia has a nightmare. She ends up waking up both Stolas and Stella, Stolas says "Via is calling us Stella" (Emphasis added by myself not the show) and Stella grumpily refuses to get out of bed and tells him to go handle it himself. It implies Stolas was going to go anyway but he wanted Stella to come with, and Stella just refuses. The way he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose (beak?) after sitting up implies that he's used to that kind of reaction from her.

Side note: The scene also shows Stella is a blanket hog. That itself isn't like an indicator of abuse or anything but it makes for good visual shorthand of just how little Stella cares about Stolas.

It's just, so much of this short scene seems to fly over people's heads. It very clearly shows that Stella behaves abusively and the scene before it shows that Stella and Stolas didn't have a good relationship to start with. It's just that they saw cheating, know cheating is wrong, and then decided that since Stella had been cheated on it justifies all of her behavior.

Also as for Octavia's clear disdain for Stolas in her first appearance: One has to keep in mind that he was intentionally keeping her away from the worst of the abuse for her entire life. It's only recently she seen her parents fighting and since it's always Stella yelling about something Stolas did, naturally she blames him for breaking the family's peace. Then he introduces her to the guy he cheated on her mom with and spends most of the day paying more attention to him than he does to her. She thinks that he likes Blitzø more than her, that if he's messing things up at home and not even reacting to her discontent that she must be low on his list of priorities. Their talk in the apple ride is what convinces her that's not the case, he finally drops the "Everything is fine!" attitude and starts actually listening to her, directly addressing her concerns and trying to give her a clear answer. The only thing Stolas says without hesitation or confusion is that he's not going to leave her, and with everything going on that's what she cares about.

You can even see it in the second episode she's in. Her parents are getting divorced and she's still estatic over the thought of spending the day with her dad and going to Earth to star gaze. She accepts that her parents don't get along, maybe she's realized they never did in the first place, but the divorce itself is still distrupting her life. If it wasn't interfering with her, I doubt she'd care much (I don't mean this in a "She's selfish" way but a "She understands her parents are better off separated and is at peace with that" way [Also, for perspective, I'm saying this as a child of divorce who came to the same conclusion]). It's when he Stolas stops listening to her again because he's so focused on the divorce that she gets upset. Which of course by the end of the episode she realizes that Stolas does still care about her and if he had realized what day it was he probably would've brought her to see the meteor shower. Octavia is legitimately just a teenager who's having a hard time and the narrative never potrays her as being wrong for that. She steals a powerful artifact and instead of being scolded or punished she's met with concern and acceptance. People who are mad at Octavia, or mad at how the story frames her, just don't understand what the story is trying to do with her.

It's just, very frustrating how incredibly obtuse some people can be with the analysis of these characters.

Everyone’s obsession with trying to justify Stella’s behavior is sooo icky to me.

“Well why they write her like that just as a prop to make Stolas look better.”

Has it ever occurred to you through the process of making a story certain characters exist to be a foil to the main protagonists. That not all characters are meant to be sympathetic or to be sympathized with and that’s not a fault in writing.

Someone being a villain character isn’t bad writing, and not having a character entire story before a show is over and claiming how under developed a character is- well a little idiotic.

Events have to happen in a certain order in a story for it to make sense, I’m sure we’ll find out more about Stella as the show goes on.

And there is also the huge can of worms of people trying to justify Stella’s actions. Male victims of abuse are hardly ever shown. Why are you trying to make Stella seem like the good person in this?

Yes it was an arranged marriage, yes it’s fair to say Stella was unhappy about that. That does not justify Stella abusing Stolas. Guess what Stolas was never happy about the arranged marriage either. Not to mention he is literally a gay man, but he didn’t become abusive.

“Oh but he cheated on her.”

Yeah after almost two decades of being abused and in a loveless hollow marriage. That’s hardly the same as being abused. Also that’s pretty common to happen to people being abused it’s behavior of someone trying to get out of a bad situation.

Y’all keep saying there is no depth and then try and take it out the messy nature of these things.

Legitimately if Stolas was a woman and Stella a man you’d all be praising Stolas. Support male domestic abuse victims and stop justifying abusive woman.

And of course that’s not saying you can’t like Stella as a character, just stop trying to make her seem like the victim. Stop saying you love her as a character and then going “well why did they write them like this, why didn’t they write them as having a friendly relationship.” Because that’s not the story being told.

And while I’m at it I know some people hate Octavia but she’s honestly great from what we’ve seen of her. “Why does he hate her more than he loves me?” As someone who grew up around this situation in my older teen I felt that. I felt that hard, these things are complicated for all people involved.

[berry-loves-yandere]

uhh Stolas with a reader who is his second friend? Blitz is- was? His first so yeah but since they drifted over the years thats when Stolas met reader and they became quite close, close enough that Stolas would confide in reader about his marriage and parenting problems and worries and all that?

Sure!

Platonic Yandere Stolas x friend! reader

When Stolas was a child, he had one friend, Blitzø.

But soon enough that friendship disappeared along with Blitzø.

Then he was married to Stella, who came along with the new advisor for the two, (Y/N).

(Y/N) and Stolas became good friends as time passed in the loveless marriage between Stella and Stolas.

Eventually Stolas and Stella did have a child but their relationship problems were getting worse and worse with Stella's verbal abuse and public berating of Stolas.

After a while they had an unofficial divorce with Octavia and (Y/N) going back and forth between the two royal demons.

Octavia and (Y/N) had an okay relationship that wasn't as strained as Octavia's relationships with her parents.

Eventually Bliztø waltzed back into Stolas' life and Stolas accepted it, not realizing that it would lead to heartbreak.

He would talk to (Y/N) all the time about his love life with Blitzø as he assumed it was going well until it wasn't.

The night they went to Ozzie's felt like a punch in the gut to Stolas.

It was clearly bothering him so (Y/N) asked about it and soon it became weekly therapy sessions where (Y/N) you comfort and give advice to Stolas.

Stolas became very attached and protective of (Y/N).

He wouldn’t ever let them leave the house, not even with Octavia to go to Stella’s house.

He was especially protective when Stella lingered around his house after dropping Octavia off.

Then he stood up to her after she attempted to hit him.

After that, he was happy and content with the kind help of his friend (Y/N).

[fandom-smut-shots]

Striker x Reader - Picking Up Trash and Calling It Treasure 5

Chapter 4 

        The motel room was musty and cramped, the floorplan barely offering enough space to squeeze in a bed between the walls. The bathroom didn’t have a door, and every appliance in the wannabe kitchen was rusted and smelled of decay. Dim yellow lighting hung from the ceiling, exposed wires threatening to snap at any moment, and there were so many stains in the carpet that it was anyone’s guess what the original color had been.

         Striker sat atop the tattered blanket that draped over the bed, one leg bent with the other crossed overtop of it. His tail twitched in irritation as he listened to the voice coming through the other end of the phone, his claws tightening around the device with the desire to smash it to pieces if only so that this particular client no longer had a way to contact him. His yellow eyes glowed in the shitty light of the room, and his free hand picked at stray threads protruding from the surface of the blanket.

         “I understand,” he confirmed for the umpteenth time, his client seeming to refuse the rattlesnake’s grasp of the assignment. It was an easy kill, on what sounded to be an easy target. Striker could have pulled this job in his sleep if the fucker that hired him would just hang up the goddamn phone and let him work.

         “The bitch should be easy enough to find,” the client repeated. “And she’s got a temper, but I don’t think she’ll put up much of a fight. She always was a pathetic mouse. I’ll text you the details.”

         “I’ll be waitin’,” Striker replied, exhaling a loud sigh of relief upon finally being able to end the call and toss the phone to the foot of the bed. His client had rambled on and on about his personal relationship with the target, how they had been lovers once upon a time, how she’d threaten to take everything he’d worked for and how she’d tried to kill him. Why he didn’t just take the bitch out himself, Striker didn’t care to ask. If she was as useless as his client proclaimed, he should have easily been able to do his own dirty work. But money was money, and Striker never bothered to question why. He was an assassin for hire, not a therapist.

         His phone vibrated with news of the target, and he groaned before using his tail to swipe it from where he’d thrown it. Clicking open the text, he rolled his eyes at the paragraph of useless information that preceded the part he actually needed. His thumb scrolled down to the bottom of the page, grunting in relief upon finally discovering the client’s name, location, and occupation.

         Oh, fuck.

         Striker stared at the words on his screen, ringed eyes widening in disbelief. There was no fucking way.

         (y/n) (l/n)

         Last located in Imp City.

         Works for Immediate Murder Professionals.

         Highly dangerous.

         His tail rattled loudly, the sound vibrating off of the empty motel room walls. He hissed as he closed the message, wondering exactly what the fuck you’d done to warrant yourself an assassination.

           Your back popped as you jumped through the portal, landing back in the I.M.P. office. The last job had been more physically taxing than any of you had anticipated – your client had failed to inform you of the sheer size of the hit, and humans already hilariously outweighed imps. You’d almost been suffocated when Blitzø had struck the human over the head with a crowbar, his large body toppling to the ground where you’d stood. You managed to scramble away just in time, though your tail had been trapped for a moment.

         Now that you and your crew were back in Hell, you were ready to go home and enjoy a long, scalding bath, preferably with a bottle of wine and some chrysanthemum candles.

         “Great job today, crew!” Blitzø beamed as though the mission had been smooth sailing.

         “Thanks for nearly getting me killed,” you barked back at him, rubbing your shoulder.

         “You’re still here though!” he countered, waving a hand dismissively. “Who wants to celebrate?”

         “With all due respect, sir,” Moxxie sighed, running a hand through his hair and pulling out a chunk of bloodied skin, “I think Millie and I are going to go home. We’re exhausted.”

         “Me fucking too,” you nodded.

         “Quitters!” Blitzø pouted childishly, crossing his arms over his chest.

         “Shut your face,” you groaned. “Go see if your boy toy wants to spend the night with you.”

         “That’s… actually not a bad idea!” your boss beamed, whipping his phone out of his pocket and dialing Stolas’s number.

         “And that’s my cue to leave,” you commented, picking up your bag full of weapons. “No fucking way am I sticking around to listen to the vocal foreplay.”

         Millie cackled as she and Moxxie walked outside beside you. You waved them goodbye as they climbed into their car and sped away before turning to approach your own.

         Before you could reach it, a presence crept up behind you, taking you by the wrist and spinning you around. Your back was slammed into a brick wall, and you growled at the contact. Your claws struggled to sink into the flesh of the hand that had pinned you, but the angle was wrong, and you couldn’t quite reach. You’d dropped your weaponry in surprise, and before you could even consider reaching for it, your other hand had been pinned by your head.

         “Don’t move, darlin’,” a gravelly voice hissed in your ear, and your eyes widened in surprise.

         “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” you demanded, turning your head in an attempt to get a look at your attacker’s face. Your ears had not deceived you – Striker stood before you, brows narrowed darkly, lips split into a snarl, revealing his razor-sharp fangs. This was a completely different cowboy than the one you’d taunted at the bar. You’d almost wondered if he’d been possessed.

         “What the fuck is this?” you inquired again. “Is this payback for something? Did I piss you off?”

         “This ain’t about me,” he countered quietly, and you’d never heard his voice sound so low or serious. It filled your core with a chill of dread.

         “Someone’s taken a hit out on you,” he confessed, lifting his gaze to meet your eyes. “I’ve been hired for the job.”

         “You’ve been hired to kill me?” you repeated in disbelief before anger flooded your heart. “And you fucking took it?!”

         “Settle down, sweetheart,” he scoffed as though he were offended by the accusation of what he’d already admitted to doing. “I didn’t know it was you. My client didn’t specify shit until after I’d accepted the deal.”

         “What fucking deal?” you demanded with a growl, struggling against his iron grip. “How much is my head worth, huh? Who the fuck hired you?!”

         “A demon named Calcifer,” he replied. “I don’t know much about his personal life, just that he’s made millions for himself and he’s usin’ the money to remove anyone he deems a threat to his livelihood. You’re pretty high up on that list.”

         Your blood turned to ice in your veins at the name, and you immediately ceased your thrashing. Striker noticed the change in your demeanor, and he raised a brow. Out of curiosity or concern, he didn’t want to know. But he did want to know the story.

         “Do you want to know why?” you questioned, not meeting his gaze. Your voice sounded far away, like you were talking to the air rather than to Striker. “Or would you rather just get it over with?”

         That upset him. He released one of your hands, using his own to take hold of your chin. He turned your face back to his, nudging your forehead with his hat until you met his gaze.

         “I wanna know why he wants you dead,” he replied, not letting you look away. “I also wanna know why just hearin’ his name turned you into a whole ‘nother imp. You’re not even fightin’ me, darlin’. I got a problem with that.”

         “What, you don’t like easy prey?” you scoffed, feeling the swell of hot tears bubbling behind your eyes.

         “Not when it’s you,” he admitted, though he wasn’t going to take even a second to contemplate what he meant by that. “You’re not easy prey, little lady. You’ve proven that much. Why does this asshole think you are?”

         You hesitated. Your eyes bore into Striker’s, and his widened upon seeing the pain and fear swirling in yours. He quickly decided that he hated that expression on you – another thing he didn’t want to think too deeply about.

         You broke the stare, casting your gaze down towards the cowboy’s boots. “We were engaged,” you began softly. “We were together for five years. Five fucking years. And he never treated me like an imp. He treated me like a demon, like a higher class being, like we were on the same level. It was maybe a week until the wedding when I found out he’d been cheating on me. And it wasn’t just some side hoe he couldn’t get rid of – he really cheated on me. I still don’t know who ratted him out; all I know is that an envelope arrived at our doorstep one night while he was out. He told me he was working, but after opening the envelope, I doubt he was ever working when he claimed to be.”

         You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that Striker had released your other hand and was now standing before you, arms crossed over his chest, silently waiting for you to continue.

         “Inside the envelope were dozens of photos. Hundreds maybe. Every single one was him and a different bitch. Men, women, demons, imps, sinners. He even had one of those robotic Fizzarolli rip-offs. Anything was better than actually being with me, I guess.” You hugged yourself, claws digging softly into the sleeves of your top. “I confronted him when he came home. He didn’t deny it, he didn’t even get mad. He acted like it was no big deal, like I’d accused him of not doing the fucking dishes. He wanted to continue on with the wedding, so I asked him why. Why would he want to marry me when he’d been sleazing around with half of Hell?”

         You barely registered Striker’s tail rattling behind him, though whether it was with intrigue or anger, you didn’t know.

         “For the status, that was his excuse,” you laughed humorlessly. “His family didn’t look down on imps the way most of society does. They didn’t think me too beneath him to be a viable mate. They though of me like a stray hellhound; a poor helpless creature that wouldn’t even be alive if it hadn’t been for his generosity. I don’t know what he’s built his empire on, but he was always a trust fund bitch. His parents were loaded, and they had a hefty paycheck signed over to him for our wedding. If he didn’t marry me, he didn’t get that check.”

         The rattling grew louder, but you were too lost in unpleasant memories to notice. You hugged your arms tighter around yourself, claws poking holes into your sleeves, slicing into the skin of your biceps.

         “I told him I’d kill him. I said if we went through with the marriage, I’d kill him, and as his widow I’d take everything he had. Threatening to expose him wouldn’t have mattered – I’m an imp. His family would have applauded him for finding his pleasures elsewhere, rather than fucking me and risk us spawning a child. But threatening his money was the thing that got to him. He exploded. He attacked me,” you paused to lift the hem of your shirt, revealing old scars tracked across your torso. “I nearly bled out. He left me unconscious on the living room floor, thinking he’d killed me, and I haven’t heard from him since.”

         Striker had opened his arms and stepped forward before his brain could even catch up with his body. Toned, slender arms curled around you, pulling you tightly to his broad chest. Your senses were immediately swathed by the cowboy – the low rattle of his tail in your ears, the scent of spiced cider infiltrating your nose, well-worn leather between your fingers. You closed your eyes as he pressed your face into the crook of his neck with surprising tenderness, a shuddering breath falling from your lips as you melted against him.

         You hadn’t expected to cry. Sure, you’d never forget how Calcifer treated you, but it had been years since the damage had been done, and you’d sworn that it had been pushed deep enough into your mind that it no longer affected you. But as you stood there, wrapped up in Striker’s arms, the dam you’d built around your heart broke, and a sob ripped through your lips before you could stifle it. Before too long, you were trembling in his grasp, tears soaking into the handkerchief he had tied around his neck. His arms only tightened around you urging more sobs from your throat as you were encompassed in the comfort you hadn’t realized you so desperately needed.

         The rattlesnake may be an asshat, and you had no idea why he’d ghosted you. And this little private display of affection certainly didn’t erase his lack of contact, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to be mad at him now, not with his tail gently caressing your back and his smooth whiskey voice whispering words of reassurance in your ear.

         This was definitely the start of something. What, you had no idea. But definitely something.

[fizzarollitm]

They weren't always like this. They used to be kind to each other. He didn't know when it tipped south but at some point the teasing got teeth. Maybe it was in their teens when the magazines they lifted became proof of inadequacy, or the first time she crashed at his place a day too long and rent too short to be chill about it.

Blitzø was the kind one, the protector, the good brother.

Fizzarolly, the One and Only—

When she asked to come over it almost felt nostalgic. He did his best to stomach it. When she talked about Him he could think of three other names it could be. Three other soft landings she called it. He blew through a 1/3 of the pack Asmodeus pretended he didn't know about before his tongue got caught. Bad habits, both of them, but he was tired of pretending the Circus life died on the border of Green and Blue.

Tilla was a low blow. He could have gone lower. Maybe should have.

In response to her snapping in his face, he clapped his hands together dramatically giving Barbie Wire her first standing ovation in how long ? " There it is— There it fucking is. What it always comes back to with you. You're so right Barbie, no one ever saw you until Lucifer. I never saw you when you nearly died on me. Let you rob me, gave you money, and a couch. Blitzø never saw you when he spent how long crawling the Rings to find you at your worse ? Even now, picking up the slack because we can all tell you're drowning but this 'your soft landing'. But no, Lucifer saved you. Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer. "

The quips, the comments, the sneer at him. Barbie dropping the kids off at Blitzø's "just for a couple of hours". Barbie losing weight and losing weight and losing weight but its pilates and not drugs so it's fine. The glossy look in her eyes when he muttered another little comment about the sister he loved more than life while she smiled like it was fucking Shakespeare.

[ ' What do you mean he hasn't fixed your hip ? ' ]

" Oh yeah it fucking burns me that Lucifer didn't choose me. You're so right Barbie ! " He caught the door with his hand and hollered at her back knowing Succubus could hear him. That by tomorrow it might be front page news. Good. He wanted a scandal. " I would kill to be degraded by my husband everyday. Have a stepdaughter who hated me and be nothing without my brother's help every weekend. " She was turning the corner to the elevator and he saw the tears. Felt that stupid rush knowing he did them, that idiotic thought he was getting to her at all.

Shut up Fizzarolli.

" Just don't come crawling to me when they follow in their big sister's footsteps and leave you too ! All because he said the right things to keep you on a leash you fucking Lapdog ! " He slammed the door so hard a photo fell and another when he hit it with his fist. He was growling and purring a dirty mix trying to self soothe through the rage. His tail whipped hard and he heard something else crash and prayed it wasn't Ozzie's. That he didn't shatter something else important.

The first sob hurt. The next was downright agony. He rubbed at his face wanting the bite bark but it was gone, dissolved in the heavy silence. He'll tell security to update the list, add Wire to her name too— Except he won't. He'll sob and tell Blitzø he fucked up and he'll go after he and they won't speak for months. And Barbie will be one person down. Why couldn't he shut the fuck up ? Why couldn't they get along.

The truth was he wasn't mad at Barbie. He was never mad at her. He was mad at the prick who took an Imp still shaking through withdrawal and promised her an escape. Promised her an easy way out. Fizzarolli leaned back and when he felt snuffling brought Precious close and pressed his face into her warm fur. Soon Asmodeus would be home and he'll call Blitzø and he won't yell at him because he's the good one. Fizz will spend the night not quite talking about it and get drunk wishing he had photos that weren't pieces of ash.

He missed his sister.

@fizzarollitm asked " You really are like Tilla. Nothing more than a wife with a man who hates his own children. Making her real proud B. "

counting to ten. writing a letter and throwing it away. driving out to the wastes and screaming her outrage into the soulless abyss. ANY of those options would have been better than engaging with fizzarolli's words, but caught between an exhausting night and one of the twins whining with discontent, barbie falls right back into her OLD way of dealing with him dishing her some shitty piece of advice --

" don't you EVER fucking say that to me like it's something to be ashamed of. my mother was TWICE the woman I'll ever be and THREE times the performer YOU'LL ever be. you ungrateful FUCK. " and there it is, the rolling boil of rage barbie had hoped died with her addiction years ago. obviously not.

the imp is shoving violently away from the table, chair legs screeching against ozzie's perfect marble floors. barbie is quickly turning tail to gather up the contents of her diaper bag and both the twins, both content with the flashing bits and bobs strewn across the blanket they'd been playing on while their mother and auntie had a nice little catchup. HA, nice, right.

" you are SO fucking -- just SO -- " there's a catch in her throat then, the rage threatening to give way to SORROW at the comment. fizz always knew just where to stick the knife, just what to say to inspire the most hurt inside her. but it didn't feel the same as when they were teenagers anymore, little digs about each other's looks or weight or performance -- this declaration that, were tilla here, barbie might be a DISAPPOINTMENT to her. after all the work, after all of the fucking nights of detoxing and vomiting and begging blitzø to just leave her in whatever alley she'd managed to collapse in. ( " PLEASE BLITZØ, JUST LET ME DIE, PLEASE. " ) " you don't UNDERSTAND, you'll never understand. "

because it feels so true. it feels like they're worlds apart now and no matter how she pleads the case, tries to make fizz understand how SHE feels -- it feels like he doesn't hear her. " you've never even ASKED me if i was happy ! you've never once fucking stopped to see if this is what i want, you just stand there on your fucking moral high ground, looking down your fucking NOSE at me like you're so much better. "

barbie continues to shove articles into the bag; tilla's floppy imp doll utters a mechanical-sounding 'mama!' as she does so, and charles' toy saber gives a brandishing swish. " i told you i was getting married and all i got was a fucking LECTURE about how awful he was, a million stories about how OTHER people don't like him, you never asked me how he treated me. and when i told you i was PREGNANT, no fucking CONGRATS, just 'oh barb, don't worry, i know a GREAT clinic'. " the recollections only seem to spurn her rage further and barbie shoves the backpack on with malice, the straps digging into her shoulder providing at least some sense of grounding.

" you'll NEVER fucking understand, NEVER. and you know why ? " she stoops down to gather the twins in her arms, one on each hip as she draws nearer to fizzarolli and leans in with venom, teeth bared in what MOST might interpret as unadulterated rage -- the moisture clinging to her eyes tells a different story if only one has the fortitude to look closely enough. to know her well enough. " because EVERYONE sees you. you walk into a room and you have every set of eyes, everyone admires you and wants you and just -- SEES you. but no one ever saw m-- "

that lump in her throat is swelling then, making her swollen thickly several times to try and fight it down. NO, barbie is NOT going to let this asshole see her cry. she's not gonna give him that satisfaction -- not after he had the gall to bring her dead fucking MOTHER into this.

" no one EVER saw me the way lucifer does. but maybe that's what BURNS you, fizz. that for once, just ONCE, someone wanted to pick me. well, welcome to MY fucking life, asshole. it's so EASY to tell me i should give up what i have, who i love, who loves ME, when you have so much more. "

the cherubic features of each twin peer over their mother's shoulder as she retreats from the room, moving quickly so that the jester won't see the tears now spilling over her lashline. tilla gives a small, open-close wave with her small hand.

" DON'T fucking call me, fizzarolli. "