#but no fuckin way blitzo is that old

[fanby-fckry]

Wait… Wait hold on a sec.

Stolas is in his 30’s. Octavia is 17. The absolute oldest that Stolas could’ve been when she was born was 22.

It’s possible – even likely – that Stolas was a teen dad.

I knew he and Stella probably married young due to it being an arranged marriage, but holy shit, did Paimon just marry these two off as soon as they turned 18 – or maybe before then? – and tell them to start trying for an owlet ASAP?

I mean, his age is measured in “Hell years” according to the wiki, and I don’t have an exact frame of reference for how Hell years and Goetia ages compare to Earth years and human ages but still… Poor bird’s life is slightly more fucked up than I thought.

Also I know Charlie ages at about 1/10 the rate of a human, but I don’t think that applies to Stolas. We know that Blitzo was Stolas’s childhood friend and is now also in his 30’s – I think? – so we can assume imps and goetia age at a similar rate.

And I’ll be damned if Blitzo is chronologically older than Charlie.

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 8 - Catharsis

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

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

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

Word count: 4,900

Warnings: self-deprecating thoughts, thoughts of death, heavy drinking, use of alcohol and sexual behavior as coping mechanisms. you know it's what you can expect from a blitzo-centered chapter. this happens right after the ozzie's chapter.

Blitzø is going to die alone. 

He’s going to die alone and no one will attend his funeral or even visit his grave other than to spit on it and his gravestone will read ‘Here Lies Blitzo Buckzo’ and nothing more because no one will be there to tell them to cross out the O and he most certainly won’t be a beloved anything. He'll just stay Blitzo Buckzo, forever.

And Blitzo Buckzo fucking sucks. 

Sometimes he wishes he was able to think before he spoke. He never does much of that and he’s aware he’d probably have refrained from hurting half the people he’s hurt if he could just keep his damn mouth shut. He didn’t think about this all that much… except for when he did. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Her voice rings in his head non-stop, like one of those annoying fucking church bells he’d come across once in the living world that ring every single hour, making it unable for its existence to be forgotten.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

It rings over and over again, stubborn, and it just won’t fucking go away.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Blitzø drives home on his own, but not in silence. He turns the radio on and the volume up until he figures it must be loud enough that he’ll have trouble hearing his own thoughts. It doesn’t work. The shit thing about thoughts is that they’re not something you can just turn off when you get sick of them. They follow you everywhere, all the time, inconvenient and impossible to get rid of. He proceeds to ignore the songs that come on in favor of mumbling incoherent things under his breath in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that he’s not bothered by everything that just happened.  Things like I can think about people’s fuckin’ feelings and think you’re so much better than me, well fuck you and rich fuckin’ asshole thinks he’s hot shit and probably suckin’ face right now. 

You know, things that prove he doesn’t care one bit. 

Whatever.

He parks the van without a care, still too busy mumbling to himself, leaving it askew, taking up almost half of the parking spot next to his own. The old lady from 22 is gonna be pissed at the inconvenience. Well fuck her too. He doesn’t spare another thought on that. 

He dreads the walk up the stairs to the apartment, wishing he lived somewhere with an elevator, or in a house, or in a super sick fancy mansion where he used money as toilet paper when he took a shit because he was just that rich. Actually, scratch that, that sounds uncomfortable. At least his shitty apartment with limited hot water and four flights of stairs before it had real toilet paper, and it was the nice kind even, he always made sure of it even if it was a little more expensive. 

His little luxuries start to sound stupid when he’s been spending so much time around Stolas and all his fancy stuff.

When he opens the door and enters the apartment, his first immediate thought is to knock on Loona’s door. He groans once as he walks towards it and then once again when he spots the note she left taped to it. ‘Tex invited me to a party. Don’t wait up.’ Yeah of course he fucking did.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Does he? 

He does. He thinks he does, at least. Maybe not all the time, but why else would he have said those things to her other than to protect her feelings? It’s not his fault if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. She needed to kill those feelings and if she wouldn’t then he would, fuck being the bad guy. In fact, fuck her too! He could so think about other people’s feelings.

He groans a third time at the thought of spending the night all alone, because he already knows what being alone makes out of him, and he doesn't like it one bit. If he could, he’d never be alone, not even for a single second, ever. Maybe that way he wouldn’t be so pathetic and so sad, because that’s what being alone made of him: pathetic and sad. 

It’s why Blitzø used to hate weekends. 

Satan, he fucking hated them. Why couldn’t every day be a work day? Why would they need a break? If it were up to him, there would be no such thing as a weekend. Because on weekends he had nothing to distract him from the ever-growing nothing in the pit of his chest and that wasn’t much fun at all.

Until Y/N accepted the job at I.M.P.

Before that, they used to speak almost exclusively through text, extremely inconsistently. He’s never really been the greatest at texting, but he could spam her with stupid memes and pictures of him doing random things throughout his day and horse doodles that she didn’t seem mad about receiving. They spent a whole year like that, only meeting in person a few times here and there.

When he offered her the job he promised himself not to have any expectations because, well shit, why would she trade in an obviously well-paying job, with her best friend as her boss, where she’d been working for years on end without having to hurt or kill anybody, for whatever it was he was asking her to do? 

But then she said yes.

It wasn’t long until he figured out they weren’t all that different from each other. Apparently, as much as she liked to complain about needing a break, just to annoy him, she dreaded weekends too. Not that she’d just admit that point-blank, but they did go out on on a Friday night after work and she did drink one too many and she sighed and complained about having to go home and it was all so much like him. ‘I don’t wanna be alone, Blitz,’ she’d told him. 

He didn't wanna be alone either.

And so he took her back home and he slept on her couch and he stayed there the next day, keeping her company and, honestly, enjoying hers. 

That’s how their tradition started. Almost every single weekend, the two will find themselves in either of their apartments, in the ugliest clothes they own, to cook or order something extremely greasy and unhealthy and marathon a shit-ton of movies, staying in on Saturday after going out somewhere on Friday. Loona would routinely call it ‘patheticville’ and ‘loser day’ and things like that. 

He doesn't hate weekends anymore. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

And now he’d fucking gone and done this. 

He still wanted to fight, then. To argue, to scream, to yell. He wanted them to do it too. To get down and dirty and scream back at him. He wanted a reason to react.

Blitzø has always been very good at reacting. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than you own?

But how was he supposed to react to that? The thought of grabbing his phone and texting her something along the lines of ‘fuck you and your pet bird too’ crosses his mind for a moment and, shit, maybe he is a prick, and he was gonna die alone wasn’t he? He was sure to if he kept doing this kind of thing. 

And maybe he fucking deserves it. 

Sometimes he wonders just how he’s going to die. Will it be peaceful? He hopes not. He sure as shit does not deserve peaceful. Maybe it could at least be cool. Maybe he could go down in a super badass shootout in the human world or a cool-as-fuck sword fight or something. Or maybe he’ll die in some dumbass way like tripping on the sidewalk and cracking his head open on the pavement. Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs. A stupid send-off for a stupid motherfucker. 

He throws himself on the couch instead and curls up into a ball, wishing he had a big royal-size bed with soft sheets and like three or four fluffy pillows, or even a simple twin-sized one, or at least that the couch was a pull-out. 

He grabs his phone and inevitably goes where he always goes when he feels like this- his ‘people I care about’ folder. He swipes through the various pictures. The ones of himself with I.M.P. in the living world, the one he made Moxxie pose with him for with them pointing their guns at each other, the one with Millie when she still had her long hair. The one from the day of Loona’s adoption, the one he took of Stolas sleeping next to him. The selfie with Verosika, the one he secretly took of Y/N watching the screen when he first showed ‘Spirit’ to her. 

And then he lands on the one. The one with Barbie and his mom. 

Blitzø is a 35 years old single father who kills people for a living. He’s been handling his own shit for almost two decades now. But in this moment… he just wants his mama.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

What would she have thought of that?

Yeah, he should have known it would be a ‘cry himself to sleep’ kind of night.

Blitzø doesn’t know for how long he’s been passed out when he wakes up disoriented. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and that probably explains why his body ached so much with how uncomfortable the position he’d slept in was. He wakes up with the barking sounds of Loona’s special ringtone and scrambles to pick it up. 

“Loonie baby? You alright? Did something happen to you, are you hurt?”

“No, Blitz. I just- can you just come pick me up?” She sounds like she’s been crying. Fuck, no, his baby needs him. No time to be sad.

He’s up in a second. “On my way. Send me the address.” He hangs up, searching for his car keys (which he found between the couch seats) and running down the stairs.

Loona went two rings down to Gluttony for this party. It makes sense, he supposes. He’s more of a Lust Ring party kind of guy himself, but he’s heard Gluttony parties got crazy. He accelerates as fast as the shitty van will let him and gets there pretty quickly, only to find her outside, still crying.

He rolls down the window before he even stops the car completely. “Hey, Loonie. How ya doin’, you alright?”

She wipes a tear with the back of her hand and enters the car with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine! I just wanna go.” She sounds anything but fine.

He’s about to ask her what happened when some fuckface he definitely doesn’t remember calls him by name. The wrong one. “Hey! That sounds like Blitzo!”

“The ‘O’ is silent, asshole!”

“Hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?”

“No, I’m just here picking up my daughter.”

The guy walks up to Loona’s window, and she hides her face from him with her hands, embarrassed. “Oh, shit, you have a daughter now?”

“Adopted!” She yells out, and it stings a bit, regardless of being objectively true. 

“Oh, man, you’re already leaving? Things just got started! Come in and show us all up again.”

Blitzø groans, annoyed by the insistence. “No, no, thank you, but I think Loonie wants to head back now.” 

Some other weirdo approaches the van, leaning on the passenger’s window. “Huh, the hottie wants to leave?” Come on, right in front of him? 

He instinctively starts to growl. “Watch it.”

“I mean, we could stay a little longer,” Loona tells him.

He sighs. He’s not normally one to turn down a party, especially one with free booze, but he feels that’s probably what he should do.. “I think we need to go, ‘kay? I think it’s been a long night.”

“Well, these people seem to know you. Come on! I think I wanna give this another try. Pleeeeaaase?” She gives him the goddamn puppy dog eyes and she knows he can already hardly resist fulfilling her requests.

Well, if she insists. He could definitely use a drink…

“Okay, fine. Maybe one drink.”

… Or a good old night of drinking to forget.

Blitzø downs two tequila shots before he’s even made it into the house. He downs four beers at rapid speed as soon as he does manage to get inside, crushing the cans and cheering loudly when he was done, and then suddenly he finds himself saying yes to a keg stand. It’s so easy he can do it in his sleep. Fuck being too old for this, he’d never be too old to have fun. And he can handle so much more than a keg stand. “Ha-ha! That was nothing, bitch! Give me a real challenge!”

Beelzebub herself appears in front of him, seemingly materializing out of nowhere (or maybe he’s just drunk), all cheers and neon colors and psychedelic paraphernalia floating around her, and she does challenge him. “Oh yeah? Wanna fucks with the big bitch, imp boy? I got a challenge for ya.” 

Someone somewhere murmurs “He’s gonna die.”

Now that sounds like a challenge he can get behind.

Vortex walks up to them, carrying two huge gallons of something and placing them on the floor between him and the Sin. “Aaaaight, let’s do this! From Bee’s personal supply, the hardest shit there is.” He crouches down to Blitzø’s height. “You ready, my man?” 

Fuck, this better fucking kill him alright. “Bring it, barky! I will drink you under this fucking table, you have no idea what kind of night I’ve had.” He struggles trying to pry the gallon open, and Bee uses her magic or whatever to make them levitate, extending a straw from it. Of course she’d flaunt her magical powers and her easy fucking life to him.

“Alright, shit-talker, but there hasn’t been a soul yet who can beat me at my own game, so you better bring the fire, baby!.” 

“Ohh, is Queen Bee too scawed to lose to a widdle imp like me?” He bets she is. And he bets she’ll be embarrassed when she loses to him (because she is going to lose). Fucking big names like her always are. 

“Oh, okay. Let’s get it on, you little bastard!”

Vortex signs for them to begin and it takes about two seconds for Blitzø to have downed about a fourth of it already, but why stop there? He pulls the straw out and pours the drink straight into his mouth, downing the entirety of it at light speed. He’s so quick Beelzebub even stops chugging her own, amused… Concerned? Noo, no way. Amused. 

He climbs on top of the huge gallon to be at face level with her and properly rub it on her face, high on the adrenaline of it all (and perhaps a little bit on the buzz from the extremely strong drink too). “Yeah, who’s the queen now?”

Loona cheers for him loudly, and it fills him with joy when she proudly yells out “yeah! That’s my dad!” Yeah. That’s damn right. 

Bee lets her own unfinished gallon fall down to the floor and crosses her arms over her chest. Yeah, definitely impressed. “Well, fuck me. That’s a first. I haven’t had a first in a while. That was magical, seriously. Impressive. I tip my crown to you, imp boy. Respect.” Fuck her still calling him imp boy, but she’s actually admitting his victory and shes bowing to him, as she fucking should. 

She howls, every hellhound around following suit, and Blitzø feels on top of the world. 

Why does the world start spinning when you get yourself on top of it? 

He almost falls to the ground, but then he’s getting held up by a bunch of strangers like a cool-as-fuck goddamn rockstar and, shit, why had he stopped getting wasted and doing this kind of thing every night again?

He doesn’t exactly remember when people started doing body shots off of him but he does remember getting freaky with a few of them, which did very little to make him feel good and honestly felt a little gross with the amounts of drinks getting spilled all over and making things rather… sticky, but it was doing wonders to his thought problem. 

Who would have known having four strangers’ tongues inside of you at once could be a great way to muffle the unsolicited thoughts in his head?

The second those people fuck off somewhere else the thoughts come in again, though. Stolas hiding his face in shame behind the menu. Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? Y/n unable to look him in the eye. Are you worried someday I may have enough of it as well? Fizz is gonna hate him forever. You’re not my real dad! Verosika will always regret him. We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle? Y/n’s crying face, Stolas’ disappointed one. Oh, they both had such fuckable faces didn’t they? Which reminded him: he really wanted to fuck someone.

He’s making out with a guy whose name he doesn’t know and whose face he doesn’t even remember when Loona pulls him off of him. “Oh, piss on a dick! What the fuck are you doing, Blitz?”

“This guy,” he grins, pointing to the unnamed man, who now stands still behind him. Wasn’t it obvious?

“It looks like you’re in the middle of a goddamn orgy. Stop!” Oh shit. Loona saw all that? An orgy does sound like some real fucking fun right now. Wait, focus, Loona. Fuck.

“Look, I didn’t expect you to come here and see any of this, Loonie, I’m so sorry, but it’s a party! I’m just having fun with uh… uh…” he turns back around to the man Loona pulled him off of. “The fuck is your name again?”

“Dennis.”

Ew. “Christ on a stick, you would be a Dennis. Get the fuck away from me! I’m not fucking a Dennis tonight. I need a Monica or an Alejandro here, stat.” He’s genuinely surprised that works when some hunky dude pulls him into his huuuge chest. Fuck yeah. “Better.”

Loona punches his Alejandro in the face, and he sincerely doesn’t give a fuck about it, because the world is spinning again, which is weird because this time he does not feel like he’s on top of it at all. In fact, it feels like the world is the meanest dom top ever and he’s a whiny, whiny bottom just sore all over from getting spanked ‘till his ass hurt. Not in a good way.

He falls back on Loona, and she catches him. “You don’t need anyone else sucking your face, freaky weirdo.” She throws him over her shoulder. “You need to drink something other than beelzejuice.”

She pulls him into the van, and she doesn’t rush to get home, because, according to her, she can see he’s already about to throw up. No he’s not, no sir! Ma’am. Loonie. 

Whatever. 

His mind clears a little as they make their way back home, and he pulls out his phone from his back pocket. Thankfully it’s still there.

“The fuck are you doing, dumbass? That’s gonna make you dizzy.”

“Gotta… gotta draw a thing.”

“You gotta draw a thing?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, as if that was enough information for everything to be self-explanatory, even nodding his head yes for emphasis. He surprisingly manages to take his time and put real effort into doodling it, showing it to Loona before sending it.

“Does it look like I did it drunk?” He slurs, letting out an unintentional burp.

“It actually looks pretty good, Blitz.”

“Okay.” 

“So. Who’d you call stupid?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“Can you call me dad again?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

He presses send and clicks on Stolas’ contact next, only to see there’s an unread message in their chat.

Stols:  I’m sorry if anything I said or did offended you tonight. 

Ha. Bet you really fucking are. 

Still, he’s not Stolas’ fucking boyfriend. What was there to expect from him? Why would he expect anything? 

Blitzy: ITZ WUTEVS

To Blitzø’s surprise, Stolas begins typing immediately, as if he’d been waiting obsessively for his reply.

Stols: Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie’s?

Talk about it? What was there to talk about? Blitzø wanted nothing more than to bury the memories of tonight the deepest under the ground he possibly could. But of course Stolas would want to talk about it.

He always wants to fucking talk about shit.

Blitzy: Y?

Stolas types for what feels like forever, and it must have been, seen that they’re now only one street from the apartment complex, before he sends in a huge-ass paragraph. 

Stols: I’m sorry! Nevermind, it’s not a big deal. I was just worried about you. You seemed very upset and you took off so fast. I’m sure things will be fine with Y/N, she likes you very much, I can see it. Maybe I read too much into everything, though. Not everything is about me, haha. I’m  glad that’s not the case. I wasn’t upset either I just wanted to make sure you weren’t and obviously you can handle a stupid joke a clown can make. Asmodeus can be very invasive in his humor, and Y/N says she’ll talk to him about it, but I thought it was funny myself. What he said about me at least. I enjoy being the subject of jest. Maybe you can say mean things to me too next time you come over. 

Now that is too much to fucking deal with right now. Which means he won’t. 

Blitzy: SHUR.

He clicks out of Stolas’ chat, taking one last glance at Y/N’s before turning his phone off. She hasn’t seen what he sent yet, and that’s actually okay. 

Loona parks the van messily, doing the same thing he’d done earlier and letting the car occupy some space from the neighbour’s spot. He doesn’t even think before asking her to fix it.  “Sweetie, could you just park it a little more to the right?”

“Why?”

Yeah, Blitzø, why do you even care? “Well I don’t want that freaky cat lady to be up my ass about it tomorrow.” Yeah, that. Sure.

She doesn’t seem to find it in her to argue or even as much as groan, simply readjusting the car. She has to carry him over her shoulder again and all he wishes on the way up this time around is that he were a little more sober. She plops him down on the couch and he curls into himself once again while she grabs him a glass of water. 

Nothing to distract him from his thoughts now. 

“I had a really shitty day,” he tells her.

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you drank like five gallons of who-knows-what?”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“The person you called stupid?” 

He nods, hiding his face from her when the tears start coming in. “Fuck, Fizz was right. I’m gonna die alone, aren’t I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste. Will you be there, Loonie?” Blitzø feels whatever consciousness he’d gained back slipping away again by the second, this time from the need to sleep rather than the alcohol. At what point did he get so tired?

“Be where?” Loona asks, and he’s too out of it to respond properly, only mumbling half-coherent things like lonely and die alone over and over. “I’ll be there, dad," she tells him anyway, and covers him with a blanket, the softest one they own. “Now go the fuck to sleep,” she orders, and he does hear it, he just doesn’t have the strength to say anything in response as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, his last thoughts being that at least he can’t think about anything while asleep and that… 

He vomits all over the living room floor. 

“Oh, fuck, I did need to throw up.”

[. . .]

You feel stupid when it’s Fizzarolli who finds you crying in Ozzie’s waiting area. He skips his way to the room, humming along to some song you can’t quite make out, and he almost doesn’t see you on his way into the office. He hears you sniffling, though, and turns to face you. It takes him a couple seconds to process that it’s you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Um. You okay there?”

You look up at him, but it doesn’t feel like you can say anything yet. 

“I-” He motions behind him with his thumb. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna get Ozzie. Stay here, yeah?”

You don’t even know why exactly you’d asked Stolas to send you here when you were still mad at Ozzie. Or maybe not mad. Just… sad about everything that spiraled out of what he did. 

Then again, did you even have anywhere else to go? You could absolutely not make the night worse for Millie and Moxxie by showing up at their place, thinking of Blitzø made you sad and Stolas was not an option. You had Ozzie, though. And you know you always will, despite whatever stupid shit one of you might do. 

And it honestly beats going home to a big pile of nothing. 

Ozzie appears shortly, Fizz having done as promised and fetched him. Fizz doesn’t come back, though, letting you and Ozzie have a moment to talk on your own, which is nice of him.  

“Hey, pretty babe. Fizz said you were here.” He looks you up and down, worried. “Are you crying?”

“Why did you do that?” 

“What?”

“Why did you fucking sing about all that, why did you- it was so humiliating, Oz, fuck!”

“Oh. I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It got out of control. I didn’t even know you would be here tonight. You didn’t call me.”

“I didn’t know I was coming either.”

“You wanna tell me what that means?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Alright. That’s okay. I am sorry, though. We took the joke too far and I realized too late that it wasn’t funny.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t. So please don’t fucking do that again. It’s humiliating enough to… fuck... and everybody saw it, and- I…” You groan in frustration, struggling to get your words out. 

“No more about Stolas or any of you. Okay? Promise.” He sits down next to you on the fancy couch and he lets you lean on him. “Did something happen between you?”

You hesitate before speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I am stupid. Of course he’s ashamed to be seen with us.”

“Stolas?”

You nod. 

“Did he… tell you that?”

“Well he didn’t deny it.”

“Okay." He takes a deep breath, probably trying to think of how to handle the situation. "You’ll have time to think about all of this. Alright? Now you’re coming with me, you’re taking a bath and you’re sleeping over, and we’ll talk about everything tomorrow. There’s no need to hurt yourself more thinking about it right now.”

He stands up and turns to leave the room, but looks back when he doesn’t hear you do the same. You’re still sat sit still on the couch.

You look up at him. “Oz?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You repeat yourself.

“What- of course not. Did somebody say that to you?”

You don’t reply. 

He purses his lips together, thinking. “Are they worth feeling stupid for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gone through this before.”

“It’s different, you know that.”

“Yeah, it’s worse. They’re not hurting you back this time around, they’re just hurting you.”

You decide he was right. You don't want to talk about this right now. “Can we please not talk about it?”

He hesitates before nodding in agreement. “Yeah. ‘Course, babe.” He grabs your hands and pulls you up. “Come on.”

All the crying makes you so tired you’re almost passed out the second you lie down on the soft, silky bedsheets of Ozzie's guest room bed. Taking a look through your texts before you let yourself fall asleep, you click on Stolas’ contact once you see a notification for an unread text. 

Stolas: I am truly sorry if I did something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable with me tonight. It’s not your obligation to talk Asmodeus  out of doing anything and I did not feel embarrassed because of you or Blitz. If you need space from me I will understand, but I want you to know that is not how I feel. And, for the record, I don’t care what that Verosika person said about you. I hope you’re alright. 

It is way too late and you are way too tired to process or deal with all of that, and honestly? You still do feel stupid, and don’t want to further that feeling by replying to him immediately. That feels too pathetic- it feels like proving Blitzø right.

You’ll reply tomorrow.

You click on Blitzø’s contact next, which also had a notification signaling an unseen message, and you brace yourself for a 'fuck you’ text or something of the sorts. 

You can't keep yourself from smiling when you open the text, turning the phone off and just waiting for sleep come to you, and things feel a lot less shitty than just a second before.

Having friends is pretty fucking okay.

A/N: everybody say thank you @sweetadonisbutbetter and also wish them a happy birthday!! the adorable little doodle blitzo drew is theirs and they did it especially so i could put it in this chapter which is so nice of them and so fucking cool!!

[navajja]

Personally I have a lot of options about Stoliz relationships, and I don't enjoy how they treat eachother, so here are some Stolas and Stoliz redesign and facts just to make myself happy, completely self indulgent.

Cracgking fingers* WElLL

In this idea Stolas is slightly older than Blitzø because of some magic thing he did to learn ages worth of information, they meet at the same age but when they see eachothers again Stolas is slightly older, maybe around ten years.

Stolas marriage with Stela is very complicated (i blame my friend for this idea) it is common behavior in the Goetia family to marry for convenience and HATE their spouses, they all talk shit about each other and laugh at their spouses expenses, it is what is normal for them and it is the way they have fun, everyone is used to this marriage social construct, but Stolas is the weird one of the bunch.

He tried really hard to have a happy marriage and he never truly understood why Stela humiliated him in family gatherings, and it only made it worse when he felt genuinely offended by his words because he was taking the fun out of their marriage. Stolas has a hard time understanding this. Goetia family DOES NOT GET DIVORCES that are considered a failure, u can hate ur spouse all u want but Divorce is a big NO.

Octavia, is actually 20 years old and she wants to be independent, but Stolas is an overprotective parent, he thinks he is staying married for her sake, but it is actually because he is afraid of what people would say. Octavia moved out of the palace but she is actually living in the garden in a smaller part of the castle (just a nepo baby thinking she is independent) Stolas actually cried for that. He is an overprotective parent, but his kid is not a kid anymore and she doesn't need them, he should be looking for his own happiness and all of this is driving him to a mid life crisis (he is 40 and Goetia lives to +250 years, but he feels old)

One night Blitzo shows up with the intention of stealing Stolas book. They end up getting drunk in stolas room talking about everything, it is the first night they enjoy in a long time. All of the alcohol and happiness ends up in the having great sex, and it is not part of the deal they made for the book, the deal is about Blitzo visiting Stolas when he needs his book, he is free to leave right away if he wants but hey genuinely enjoy eachothers company and the fuckin is just a fun little extra. They don't label their relationship, they got issues.

Stella never finds out about Stolas actively cheating on her, she knows something is wrong but can't figure out what, especially because she doesn't believe Stolas is capable of cheating on her with the lower class.

Blitzo is the same idiot we know, but he doesn't act like he hates stolas, but words are hard for him so they never truly talk or say that there feelings are very real. He has low self-esteem, he believes strongly that he doesn't deserve been liked by Stolas and he feels like he is taking advantage every time they are together, he keeps himself for saying those things because he is in love and he takes what he can until Stolas gets tired of him

Blitzo's business idea came up because he needed something substantial he could leave for Loona. If someone ever happens to him he knows Mox and Millie would keep her company but he needs to be sure she will have a future of he is not around.

He adopted her at age 13, she was on high alert all the time but soon enough she was Blitzo precious little girl, but she is 15 now and she is a menace to the world, the teenager rebellion hit her hard, and Blitzo doesn't have anyone to ask for parenting advices, his only ideas are for trying to do the contrary his father did to him, so Loona is spoiled considering Blitzø financial reality.

All i have so far, sorry about it, muak.

[fuckyndingus]

loona's first night

idk man i'm tryna get into writing again and hb and hazbin are melting my brain away so here's a duet between blitz and loona on loona's first night home *(if it's bad, no it isn't you didn't read this and this post doesn't exist)* ***

Blitz: Look, (sung) I know the first night'll be rough. Hell, the first coupla months are a bust. But believe me i know, when ya feel all alone - sometimes the hand that you bite doesn't bleed.

Together, you and me are a team.

So welcome home Looney.

Loona (spoken): Ew what, Looney? What the fuck?! No shot, old man. I ain't goin' by that.

Blitzo (spoken): awh cmon it's perfect! OUUUOOO EVEN BETTER, LOONEY TOONEY!

Loona (spoken): Awh fuck, geezer - that's way worse!

(sung) I think if anyone's looney, its you - for grabbin me outta that zoo.

I mean, whaddya need with a shitbag like me?

I could just walk out that door. Trust me i've done it before. So thanks for the help but i'm fine all alone.

***Loona starts heading towards the door.***

Blitzo (sung): I know the look in your eyes. See it in mine all the time. Been kicked around while your down, just life's little pissclown.

Feel like your life's a sick joke. Sinkin' just lower than low.

I promise it's worse on your own.

Loona (spoken): What could you possibly know about the shit I've had to de-

Blitzo (spoken): I don't. I don't know exactly what you've had to go through. But I know what I've gone through. And I know what I saw in that fuckin' cell. You're out here runnin' on pure survival and rage and fear. And that? That I get. I got a phD in fuckin' shit up - so bad, I should give a TomTalk. And I also get that nothin' I say can change exactly what ya feel right now. But time can. So give me time - give this , this family time - to grow. I can give ya a job at my new company and - and we can turn this old storage room into a bedroom for ya.

No matter what though the decision's gotta be made by you. I won't stop ya if ya walk out the door or sneak out at night but at least give it a chance. Give yourself the chance.

I'm gonna go grab us some 'zzah and there's plentya liquids in the fridge so take your pick. I'll be back in twenty, Looooooonnie!

Loona (spoken): Ugh - fuck off already!

***Blitz leaves. Loona goes to sit on the couch - visibly uncomfortable and then slowly relaxing into a hopeful expression***

Loona (spoken): Fuckin' "looney-tooney"

(sung) My brain keeps on screamin' to run but my legs feel heavy and numb.

I wanna collapse - he says to relax?

***scoffs*** He doesn't know a damn thing.

-beat-

(sung) I guess since it's up to me

I'll stay. Would that be okay? Would I finally feel like I'm finally real - a hound who can handle just one little gamble on a red little prick who's deciding to stick by my side? I guess I'll try to

stay.

[countlessrealities]

Discussed starter for @sevenciircles ~ Blitzo & Fizzarolli

This was a bad idea. A terrible ideas, especially considering what had happened during his last visit to that part of the Lust Ring. Blitzo was very well aware of that fact, even if he had been oh-so-conveniently pretending, even with himself, to be oblivious to his own ill-judge decision.

His reasoning? Talking himself out of it would have been counterproductive. The mortifying events of that dreadful night were at the same time a deterrent and a push to set the record straight, as much as possible. He couldn't just sit there and bear the burning humiliation without even trying to, if not even the score, at least making the defeat less crushing. He had a reputation to uphold, among the other things.

So yes, it was mostly a matter of pride, but not exclusively. There was also something even more personal at stake, an old conflict born out of a soured relationship. This was his chance to deliver a well-aimed it and he knew that he would have regretted it if he hadn't exploited it. No matter how that conversation would have ended.

The Imp crossed his arms over his chest, gritting his teeth a little as his tail nervously whipped the air. The narrow back alley was humid and dark, a strong contrast with the main entrance of the club, with all its lights and fancy decoration. And it was on purpose, since its function was to allow the employees to come, go and have their break in peace, away from the crowd of impatient patrons.

If he had to be fully honest, Blitzo preferred it this way. His performer days have been over for years now and, while he enjoyed the attention and a receptive audience, he was more comfortable in the shadows. Seeing how he normally behaved, one wouldn't have never guessed, but that was on purpose. It was all part of the persona he had built around himself. Loud, confident, greedy, egoistic, determined, ruthless.

In truth, only the last two traits were more than just an act.

Yellow and red eyes narrowed as the backdoor finally opened once again and, this time, the figure that stepped into view was exactly the one he had been waiting for.

Not wanting to lose the surprise effect, Blitzo dashed forward, blocking the other Imp's path, teeth bared in a half growl. The urge to shove his former friend against a whole was strong, but he resisted it, choosing instead to stab a finger against Fizzarolli's chest. No need to start a brawl...yet.

"You!" He exclaimed with a hiss not unlike the sounds that an angry cat would make. "You're the biggest fuckin' hypocrite in this dumpster! And this is Hell, for crying out aloud!"

He had seen humans and angels doing worst things than demons during the years, but those were details and didn't matter to the point he was trying to make.

"Humiliating me in front of everyone, while you were standing there contradicting your own fuckin' song!" Another irate hiss followed, together with a whip of tail. "If you thought that I would have let you get away with all that shit, oh, you're so wrong, you lameass jester!"

[countlessrealities]

Blitzo's squints at Fizzarolli, skepticism written all over his face. It's easy to see that he is mistrustful of the words he has been addressed, especially since they sound so much like a compliment. Yet, at the same time, some of the hostility he has been showing has faded too. He might not say it, but he is carefully choosing to give his old childhood friend the benefit of the doubt.

"Yeah, well, that's how life fuckin' works," he mutters in response, looking away once again in the attempt of disguising his uneasiness. "It's either adapt or go down. Not everyone is lucky enough to find someone ready to take them under their wing. I had just myself to count on, so..."

His voice trails off, as he doesn't really want to get into it. How he has struggled for so many years. All he has done to survive. The mistakes, the choices he is ashamed of, the hurt he had brought to himself and others. Yet, he has held on and survived, and he wants to think that, one day, he'll look back that it has been worth it.

The sombreness that has taken over his expression, however, quickly fades at the jester's absurd accusation. He should have expected it. Of course the asshole would mock him to make the praise he has, perhaps accidentally, let slip sound insincere.

"Don't flatter yourself. I only bring hot asses back home and you're not one of them," he retorted, rolling his eyes in return. "As you said, it's just the easiest thing to do. Since I don't know where you live and you're in no condition to guide me. I bet you have a concussion or shit like that."

He doesn't really believe that, but it's a way to offer them both a way out of that particular discussion.

"And it gives me the chance to prove how fuckin' wrong you are about my couch," he adds for good measure, and it's not even a lie all on all. He does think that his sofa is a good place to sleep on. It's why he has picked it.

Taking a turn at the end of the alley, Blitzo shoots Fizzarolli a look, obviously pondering something. It will take them a little while to get to the elevator, since he would rather avoid the main roads. Just in case.

"So...Are you goin' to tell me what the fuck happened to you? To get you in such a bad shape?"

{ @stcries }

the imp's own brows couldn't help but crease for a moment, the realization finally hitting him, how much he'd missed over these last few years. to think they were both so close, like brothers almost. to see how far they had fallen was just shocking. and even hearing the story of how the pair came across one another? it tugged against his heartstrings even more. "no no, i mean, i'm happy for you there. it's just surprising to see how much you've grown since we last met."

but the final comment does nothing but earn an eye roll from the clown. oh for fuck's sake. "with how much you keep bringin' it up, it almost sounds like you WANT me to come home with you, y'sound really fucking desperate." with how many people he'd heard screaming weird requests and desires from ozzie's stage? fizz would be lying if blitzo didn't sound at least the slightest bit similar. but still, the thought does linger briefly.

whilst it would be good to get home to his familiar bed, and partner ... but with their current situation? deep breath was taken inward, weighing his options before exhaling. "you know what, i'd be too much of a pain for you to haul my ass all the way across the lust ring like this. so yeah, i'll come back to your shitty apartment or whatever."

[ren1327]

Close to Me

A Huskerdust/Angelhusk tumblr exclusive fic based on Ellie Goulding's "Close to Me" feat. Diplo and Swae Lee.

Part of the Light up the Night storyline

CW: Lots of cussing, mentions of sex and bullying Moxxie

---------------

SLAM!

Charlie jumped when she heard a door upstairs slam, then a hard pounding on wood before a frustrated yell had her on her feet.

She nearly ran into Husk as he stalked to the bar, grabbing a bottle off the shelf and uncorking it, taking several large gulps.

“Um…Everything good, Husk?” She asked.

Niffty suddenly hopped past, whining softly to herself as she leapt into the kitchen, hearing pots and pans banging.

Charlie looked at Husk, who had started on a second bottle and quickly followed the cyclops girl.

“Hey, Niffty?” Charlie asked.

Niffty was quickly measuring out flour and muttering to herself as she grabbed some eggs.

“Sad brownies?” Charlie asked as Niffty grabbed a block of fudge, then turned a grabbed a second.

“Sad brownies.” She said and turned to tie her hair in two short pigtails and wash her hands.

“What happened?” Charlie asked when Niffty gave her a bowl and whisk.

“Oh, Miss Charlie…” Niffty sighed and started chopping nuts. “It was awful!”

*

EARLIER...

“Dance with me, Husk.” Angel teased as they walked past a club, Niffty peeking inside and grinning.

“We gotta get this stuff back to the hotel, Ang.” Husk said. “Some other time, okay?”

“Fiiiiine!” Angel huffed and reached for Husk’s hand.

Husk pulled his fingers away and crossed his arms.

Angel blinked. “The fuck?”

“Not here, Angel.” Husk said and looked at an old poster of Angel in drag.

Angel’s eyes followed his and he scoffed.

“Are ya serious?” He asked and stalked ahead, Niffty looking from Husk to Angel before hopping to the former’s side.

“Husky, what’s going on?” She asked.

“Nothin’, Niff.” He grumbled.

The walk back was tense and silent as they all made it back into the hotel.

Angel dropped his things on the counter and went up to his room, Husk cursing and following after his boyfriend once the groceries had been put away.

Niffty cocked her head and leapt up the stairs, hearing muffled shouting.

“…fuckin’ scared to be seen with me?”

“…know damn well I don’t give a shit!”

“Be honest Husk!” Angel yelled as Niffty placed her ear near the door. “Ya think I’m disgusting or somethin���? Think I’m too much of a slu—”

“Shut up!” Husk yelled. “I just…I don’t think…Ang…we’re…not good enough to been seen together…”

Niffty squinted her eye, Husk voice very low.

“Good en---Good enough?!” Angel yelled and there was the sound of glass breaking.

Niffty ran behind a plant as Husk ran out, a perfume bottle smashing behind his feet as he turned.

“Angel…I didn’t mean it like that…Angel!” Husk yelled as the door slammed. He pounded on the door before yelling in frustration and going down the stairs.

*

NOW...

Niffty sighed. “I think I get what Husk meant. I hear him talking with Mimzy when she’s over."

“Oh?” Charlie asked as they waited for the brownies to bake.

“It’s not Angel isn’t good enough.” She looked up at Charlie. “It’s Husk. He thinks he’s not good enough to be seen with Angel.”

“And so Angel…oooooh.” Charlie said. “What should we do?”

“Brownies and milk.”

“Right! Any alcohol will make Angel spiral!” Charlie said. “He’ll lose all his progress!”

“…No, milk just taste better with brownies….” Niffty said with a frown.

“Right, right, right…” Charlie laughed awkwardly. “Sorry.”

Niffty huffed and heard the oven ding, taking the brownies out and letting them cool as she set up a tray.

“Ya know, Miss Charlie, sometimes we just gotta do what’s best for people in their own way.”

“But Angel staying clean is best for him—”

“Angel, not the hotel.”

“I…I think I have an idea. But I might need some help.”

She grimaced as she took out her phone and shot a text.

“Okay, Niffty, we might need a few more batches of brownies…” Charlie said. “And some of the good liquor I know you stowed away for this kind of situation. Let’s move all this to the home theater. And make sure the front room is clear.”

“Why both rooms?”

*

“That’s such bull!” Loona said as she downed another shot.

“How can he imply he’s better than you?” Octavia added.

“Yeah, Angie, you’re like, the fucking best!” Cherri said and stuffed another brownie in her mouth.

“Thanks gals.” Angel said, sniffing and taking another tissue from Millie. Then another shot.

Niffty sat on one of the sofas, a weird cartoon playing on the screen no one was paying attention to. She quietly excused herself and hopped to the other side of the hotel where Husk was drinking from another bottle as Blitzo chattered away.

“Listen, they all throw fits, but just have really rough angry se—”

“Sir!” Moxxie interrupted. “The best response is proper communication. As a happily married man, I can say with confidence—”

“No one cares about your boring married life!” Blitzo said and pushed Moxxie off his stool.

“Blitzy Dear…” Stolas cooed. “Aren’t we in a committed relationship?”

“Well I mean, yes.” Blitz said with a blush. “But! Marriage makes it less…sexy.”

“I see. But being my consort is much more…enticing?” Stolas purred, leaning against his partner.

“Uh…”

“Fellas!” Mimzy chided. “This isn’t helping.”

Husk was sobbing now. “I fucked up again…”

“Oh, Husker…” Mimzy said and rubbed his shoulders. “Alastor! Can’t you help us?”

The Radio Demon looked up from his drink, cocking his head. “Oh, I’m trying, my Love.”

“Tryin—Alastor! What are you up to?” The shorter demon asked her lover.

Niffty chirped and gasped, running back to the theater.

She burst in to see the same scene she had just escaped from.

Husk blubbered.

“He’s so fuckin’ beautiful, Mimz!” He said. “Like, look at ‘im! Hic! ‘Den look at me! He’s too good fa’ me and I hate…”

Angel’s eyes were transfixed on the screen.

“Hate how people look at us. ‘Dis tall fuckin’ babe and his shlubby boyfriend!”

“You’re not shlubby—” Mimzy said.

“Yes, I am!” Husk said and hiccupped. “I’m an ugly old man and he’s just! Just!”

“Just what?” Mimzy asked, side eying Blitzo and Stolas escaping into the hall to a bedroom.

“He’s fuckin’ perfect! He’s pretty an’, an’ has a nice voice…His cute widdle snore an’ man! Can he shoot, Mimz! He’s so fuckin’ vicious when he wanna be!” Husk said, waving his bottle around. “He looks so happy when he’s mowing down fuckers! Yeah, I snap at ‘im. But he can always tell when I’m bullshitting ‘im. We get in our little back and forths an’…he does dis little pout that melt me, ya know?”

Angel chuckled.

“His laugh…” Husk continued Mimzy carefully took the bottle. He mixed his drink with a smile. “Fuckin’ infectious. An’ he always smells so fuckin’ good. He looks at me like…like I’m da best damn ting in da world, ya know?”

He smiled into his glass.

“When Angel is…well, if anyone makes it outta here…I hope it’s Angel…I want ‘im happy.” Husk said. “I love him—”

Angel tackled him on screen, and everyone was shocked to see Angel had sprinted down the halls to kiss Husk's face.

“Love ya too, Husky!” Angel yelled happily, kissing the cat demon's cheeks and lips over and over.

Husk clutched him tight in a hug. “I’m sorry, Baby.”

“I know, I know, Husky.” Angel whispered. “Let’s get ya sobered up, Baby. Then we can cuddle with Nuggs.”

“Love Nuggs.” Husk mumbled as Angel picked him up, his wings dragging behind them.

“Aw~” Millie cooed as the girls joined the rest of the group in the front.

“Well, it’s late.” Charlie said.

Vaggie placed her hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Feel free to stay the night.”

They suddenly heard pounding from Blitzo and Stolas’s room.

“Ew.” Loona and Octavia said.

“I just fixed that damn wall!” Vaggie huffed and shook her head.

Niffty offered her the last brownie, the taller demon smiling at her as they dispersed.

*

Angel rubbed the base of Husk’s ears as he purred into his chest fluff.

“Ya wrong, Baby.” Angel said.

Husk moaned sleepily.

“We good.” Angel said, pulling the other into a kiss. “Together.”

“But…”

“Shut up.” Angel chuckled. “Just stay close to me. And love me like ya do, okay?”

“Love ya, Angel...” Husk agreed.

“Love ya too, Husky~”

[hazbincalifornia]

The breeding season one- Blitzo is dropped into the palace into a room that the furniture has been shoved off to a side for more room except for many blankets and pillows that have been ripped and torn. He starts to say fine let’s get it done with but Stolas leans in with his sharp beak and tears away his clothing as he protests and then he realizes he’s not turning back to normal. Oh no he’s in this form. And it’s Blitzo’s holes he’s looking to plug!

Warnings: While this is a bit dubcon-y, Blitzo gets into it pretty fast. Also, explicit sexual content, size difference, monster fucking, breeding kink, cum inflation, the whole works.

"So, loving the enthusiasm, but can we talk about this first? Preferably somewhere when you aren't flashing a hundred teeth next to my nether regions?" He instinctively flashed a grin up at the mountain of twisting shadows and molten magic that was looming a little too close.

Stolas (was it even still Stolas anymore?) didn't reply, running his tongue up Blitzo's body and leaving a trail of off-gray slime from his stomach to halfway up his horns.

"...Can you at least not rip me in half?" It came out with more of a squeak than he would have liked.

The fact that he could already feel himself getting aroused did not help his case as he swore Stolas started laughing.

"Oh, come on, I'm serious! I'd rather not have 'ripped in half via the asshole' on my gravestone, I deserve to die with more dignity than that!" Blitzo pushed himself up off the blankets, but Stolas bent forward and pushed him back down again as he started nudging between Blitzo's legs. "Yeah, yeah, you're horny, just gimme a second to adjust, alright? I'm pretty damn stretchy, just..." He reached his hand down, sliding two fingers into the already-dripping slit. "Jesus fuck. Okay. Look, since you're barely all here at the moment anyway, might as well admit I may have jacked off to the thought of this a couple of times, but I always figured it'd be something we'd work up to, you know-"

Stolas's body rumbled like a jet engine, the vibrations from the sound shaking the room, and the tremors scurried up Blitzo's spine. This towering thing that could probably bite his head off without even a thought wanted to screw him.

...He'd probably never been more turned on in his life.

Stolas was already adjusting on the blankets and pillows, claws shredding them with every slight shift of his body, and Blitzo tore his underwear the rest of the way off, sucking in a deep breath.

"Alright, I'm just going to assume that there's enough thought in that giant head of yours to not eviscerate me, otherwise that's gonna kill the boner here just a little." He gestured up to Stolas with a wave of his hand. "I assume it's why you grabbed me specifically, anyway, right?"

Stolas's head tilted, and Blitzo's fingers twitched. "Okay, can't talk. Got it."

Stolas slammed down one wing on either side of the imp, pinning Blitzo underneath him.

"Mine,"

the voice growled from the very air around them, and Blitzo could feel the deep timbre rattling in his bones.

"So you can talk. And you're possessive. Shoulda- ah, okay, touchy touchy, that's the same old same old." Stolas had placed a clawed wing on Blitzo's shoulder before pushing him down further on the pillows, and for the first time Blitzo noticed an absolutely massive cock between the currently-way-more-fucking-demonic-than-usual owl demon's legs. Right. That was... probably going inside of him.

God damn why was he still this horny.

Stolas leaned forward to nuzzle against him, and Blitzo could feel the heat radiating off the insides of his wings, shifting red magic rippling inches from his skin like he was stuck inside of a tanning bed, but then Stolas lowered his hips and that tip touched his entrance and-

Blitzo's fingers dipped down to try and spread himself wider, Stolas's smothering presence and radiating power combined with the incoming promise of the fucking of a lifetime more than he could stand to wait for.

"Fuuuck, come on, get it in there, get it in, get it in-" Blitzo chanted, legs twitching a little as he made room and Stolas slipped in further, more than glad that he'd had at least some practice with the horse dildos displayed proudly on his shelf. There was no way in the seven rings Stolas was going to get all the way in- he was pretty sure that thing was longer than he was and he'd rather stay in one piece, thanks- but Blitzo was no quitter and he was going to get every inch that he could.

"C'mon, big boy, don't you wanna take the hottest imp in Hell?" Blitzo cooed, a strangled purr choking out from his throat as Stolas pushed in more, fluid gushing out as his body lubricated itself.

...He probably should have looked for some actual lube, but considering how much of a mess the nest was and the lack of any kind of warning, he doubted Stolas had that kind of foresight right now. At least he was doing fine on his own on that front.

His own cock had no room to slither out- the sheer size of Stolas's had jammed up the skin on the slit, so it was going to be a pussy game today, it looked like. Fine by him, at the moment about all he could do was dig into the sheets and twitch- and talk.

"F-fuck, Stolas, that feels like you're shoving a fist up there but better, it's so full-" Stolas let out a rumble in reply, licking at Blitzo's face again before thrusting in a bit further, officially taking Blitzo from overfull to 'drooling cocksleeve' and snapping any lingering inhibitions in the process as every one of his pleasure nerves were slammed at once and he orgasmed but had no time to process as Stolas kept going.

"Fuck, goddamn, you're so fucking big, fuckin breed me again, fill me up, do it, Stolas, Stolas, Stolas-" The words were only half-coherent but Stolas heeded them, starting to pump in and out, leaving the overstimulated imp alternately feeling empty and stuffed to bursting. His hands roamed for something to ground him, and in the process of grabbing a pillow, a glance down showed Stolas bulging out his middle when he was pushed in only moments before he came, flooding Blitzo with enough cum to impregnate an army, bloating his stomach up instantly like a pressure hose and in such volume he swore he could taste it as he came again around Stolas.

He lay there panting for a moment as Stolas pulled out, one hand resting on his sloshy midsection. "I'd give a punchy one-liner but I think I might just throw up."

Stolas just nudged at his stomach with his beak before giving a pleased hoot and positioning himself in place again, and Blitzo groaned even as he parted his legs.

"You're lucky I'm a quick recharge."

[ducknotinarow]

[Stolas/Blitzo]  ✍️ get an appreciative text or letter from receiver’s muse [reverse] The text bubble kept appearing and disappearing, Blitzo writing one thing only to delete it. Over and over, the imp unable to put what was going through his mind down. Giving a frustrated sigh, he soon texts a single word: [TXT] FUCK. ...He should probably elaborate more. [TXT] Sorry. I’m not good with this whole feeling things bullshit. Unless it’s pissed off or wanting to fuck your brains out; then I’m good at feeling shit. [TXT] But you make me feels things; things I don’t really understand but feel good. And I aint talking about the fucking. [TXT] Even when we just sit together, or those after glow moments we get, I feel good. Like for a moment everything feels right in this fucked up place. [TXT] Yeah you’re hornier than the entire lust ring, and got more kinks than an eighty year old hag on her death bed in their fucked spine. [TXT] But I don’t mind it. I don’t dislike being around you. I like it when we’re alone. [TXT] The way you laugh, or how you puff up your feathers, and the way your tail moves with every step. The stuff you say, even if I don’t understand a damn word of it. The fact you bend down to talk to me; you care about me, I think, I like all of it. [TXT] The thing you do, you in general, it makes me feel... There’s a few minutes before Blitzo continues that line of texts, [TXT] You make me feel like I’m worth a damn. That I’m more than some lowlife, down in the gutter, fuckin’ imp. More minutes trickle by, a moment of silence. The imp isn’t sure if he regrets this or not, but decides to end the conversation, [TXT] I have a client. Bye.

| fluff interactions

A loud heavy sigh left stolas' beak as he focused his attention upon the ceiling, sadly thrown over his couch as he lounged over its long lanky limbs thrown over the sides. One leg draped over an arm of the couch, the other over the side, hand though were busy holding on to his cell phone over his chest. He was still getting used to the device since his daughter convinced him to get a cell along with his landline. It did hold many uses especially entertaining when he grew bored. Not that any of that mattered right now because all he wanted was to hear from on being. Blitzø. Another sigh the TV was one off to the side but it was nothing more than white noise right now, lifting up the cell between his talons as he looked at the screen meaning to use it to see the time he last track of how long he had been lying like this. When a message appeared on the glass. Blitzø's name showed up with a single word in his text message.

[TXT] FUCK.

Oh? Eyes widen at the single word as Stolas sat up rounded his back as he tucked his legs in towards himself swiping the screen to unlock it and get to the text message only to see the imp was still messaging.

[TXT] Sorry. I’m not good with this whole feeling things bullshit. Unless it’s pissed off or wanting to fuck your brains out; then I’m good at feeling shit.

[TXT] But you make me feels things; things I don’t really understand but feel good. And I aint talking about the fucking.

[TXT] Even when we just sit together, or those after glow moments we get, I feel good. Like for a moment everything feels right in this fucked up place.

[TXT] Yeah you’re hornier than the entire lust ring, and got more kinks than an eighty year old hag on her death bed in their fucked spine.

[TXT] But I don’t mind it. I don’t dislike being around you. I like it when we’re alone.

[TXT] The way you laugh, or how you puff up your feathers, and the way your tail moves with every step. The stuff you say, even if I don’t understand a damn word of it. The fact you bend down to talk to me; you care about me, I think, I like all of it.

[TXT] The thing you do, you in general, it makes me feel... Stolas held the device tightly between his hands, talons curling around it as he held his breath reading over the string of messages coming his way from the imp. He couldn't believe what he was reading right now. Was Blitz saying what he thought they could be saying right now? he liked Stolas? He found himself sitting up as the texts stopped for a moment. Stolas eyes never left the screen though just waiting on the imp to reply..or were they waiting on Stolas to say something now?

[TXT] You make me feel like I’m worth a damn. That I’m more than some lowlife, down in the gutter, fuckin’ imp.

"Blitz" Stolas breathed out

[TXT] I have a client. Bye. Slowly lowered his phone even if he messaged back right away they might not see it because of work. He leaned over to the side letting his head rest against the back of the couch, as he scrolled up and reread what Blitz sent him. slowly a smile started to creep onto his beak, his face flushed red as he kicked his feet causing him to fall back onto the couch he swore he could see hearts in the air above his head right now. "Oh I can't just sit here!" opening the message again he was going to have to figure out how to screenshot this so he could keep the wonderful words from his darling little imp somewhere he could easily look back on. starting to type back right away needing to express his joy from the appreciation and...maybe even love Blitz was showing right now.

[ambrial-blog]

Striker .Exe  Mini Notes.

How It all began.  The Devil’s Mark:   A Curse  or possibly something even worse. No one knows for sure the origins of the acclaimed mark. There are only a few tokens scattered throughout hells seven Rings that will give rise to a new God. The Mark was lost, a fable one tells there young as a cautionary tale. Lost to the ages of old and seemingly forgotten. Only a privilaged few knew of its existence.  

Legend says, it was created when the merciful creator wasn’t so benevolent.  During the times of the Aztec gods, of human sacrifices The Devil’s Mark, sole purpose was to enslave the mind and to reconstruct. An accursed  mark that shames: the Mark of Cain. that makes even Queen Lilith tremble in hesitance and Lucifer himself air on the side of caution when dealing with such a mark. be warned the Mark is all consuming, granting power and domineering  resilience to its user. 

Striker: and the second coming:  

Trapped inside of Stella’s office, while  waiting for the irritable owlet to arrive to go over some briefing before his next assignment. The Cowboy looks around the room a bored expression on his face, his eyes skimmed over a family photo: set in a happier time. Stolas, Stella and Octavia peer out through the glass. Striker ignores it, sifting through the articles of the mundane until he stumbles across three volumes of ancient text. “What do we have here?” he thought while leafing through its tarnished yellowed pages. Running a long finger over ancient text, if he could only translate the meaning of the Mark he could use it one some unfortunate soul. and perhaps he’d walk away with something more tangible then his pockets lined with money.

Striker is instantly drawn in, he can’t put the book down, reading, the rereading. He was like a sponge jotting down notes here and there. He discovers through many hours of toiling over volume after volume  how to recreate the mark.  The origins he was still sifting through But the mark was capable of bending the will of man, beast, or imp.    His thoughts instantly darkened with a feral lust as he thought about the night of festival. the body heat as he had Blitz trapped between him and the wall. those burning amber eyes scorching him, begging him. Blitzo was nothing but a plaything to that pompous worm-dicked prince.  “Fuckin Vermin, I should’ve finished you off when I had the chance”  The fact he almost had him still kept him up at night. he awoke in a cold sweat and an empty bed but he could Blitzo’s mouth linger on his skin. it was only a dream. “If  I find that little critter I’m going to skin him alive for interrupting. If that possum hadn’t shown up when he did I would’ve had his boss eating out of my hand. 

“Once I’m I’ve read this thoroughly things are going to change Blitzy, starting with that possum and his Mrs. I will not be denied twice. We compliment each other more then you think, sugar-cube” he thought.  As he learns more about the Devil’s Mark, as he continues to sift through the numerous pages he makes another shocking discovery. the Accursed mark is also able to rewrite memories among other things...  The thought of a new beginning.. entered the Outlaw’s mind. He’d put a bullet in the  prince’s head and then he’d claim his prize. Blitzy would come to love him one way or another that scarlet devil was his. 

With a new threat hanging in the air, IMP scrambles before springing into action. Will Blitz make it in time or will the Cowboy finish what he started?. Can Moxxie and Millie keep their boss safe once he receives the Mark? and who is that lurking in the shadows?.... 

How to Break the Devil’s Mark/ Known ways to Break the Devil’s Mark. 

First you must identify the mark time is precious,  and knowledge is key. The accursed mark: is disguised as to look like an Alpha’s claim. Be weary of your time because as soon as the mark is formed it will begin to eat/rearrange memories to the users discursion  The mark will appear in 1-3 weeks its imperative you act fast or you will succumb quickly. . 

Two: Since there is only a handful who knows if its existence, your chances are slim. The Mark had been around before man inhabited the earth.  In Hell:  There are only nine who will recognize the mark.  Lucifer would have only heard about it in passing. 

1. Lucifer: the fallen Angel, the King of Hell. 2. Lilith : His Queen,  A fallen Angel/turned succubus.  3 Princess Charlie who grew up on the fables of old.  4: Paimon: The King of Ares Goeita  5: King Ausmodeous, sin of Lust.  6: Lord Mammon: Sin of Greed.  7: Alastor: the strawberry pimp, radio demon.  8 Valentino moth pimp, porno industry king. 9: Striker: the Cowboy/Assassin. 

The Mark is ancient and based in/on Hoodoo/Voodoo and other dark arts.  Only cure is found and cluttered by the dark priestesses of new Orleans. 

Three: Once you have it, there is no getting rid of it, unless you are willing to sacrifice something of equal or greater value. Many imps have died or succumbed and were never seen again.  if you are strong, the mark will reward you.

[countlessrealities]

The sound of someone knocking on the door caused Blitzo to groan from where he was lying face down on the couch. The previous day he and his team had scored an extremely lucrative assassination and he had insisted that they should celebrate by getting blackout drunk.

Unfortunately, the night hadn't gone as he had hoped. Loona had straight out refused to join them, claiming that she already had a better engagement. As for the Ms, they had agreed to have dinner with him, but then they had left after the food and the first drink where finished because they too had something else planned.

Damn, way to remind him how these days his job was the only thing that could consistently fill his life.

After having hesitated between going on another hit and calling Stolas, he had ended up deciding to drink the whole bar under the table, to prove to...well, himself that he didn't need anyone to have a good time.

Whether or not he had actually enjoyed himself, he couldn't have said. His memories of the night were a bunch of blurred images, and he couldn't even remember getting home. His massive hangover was the only certainty he could cling on.

The Imp pushed his face against the cushion, meaning to ignore the mysterious visitor until they would have left, but he instantly changed his mind as an extremely familiar voice reached him.

Fizzarolli? What the fuck? They hadn't seen each other since that kidnapping mishap. And he had come there just to talk to him? Shit, was he drunk hallucinating again?

With a grunt, Blitzo made himself stand up and trudged to the door, inelegantly throwing his open, and found himself indeed face to face with his old childhood friend. Not just a trick of his mind then.

"If you make any fuckin' comment about me lookin' like shit, I'm throwin' you out," he warned, but the thread wasn't too believable as he had already moved aside to let the jester in. "And that coffee has better be the best fuckin' one I've ever drunk, or I'm passin' out on you."

{ @mcltiples }

ꜰɪᴢᴢ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴀʟʟ || @countlessrealities

Ever since the kidnapping, Fizzarolli couldn't help for his mind to wander on everything that he learned about that fateful day. All of this time, he spent hating Blitz for it. When in reality, it really was just a fucked up accident that could've been prevented.

If only things were that easy. He let out a sigh as he knocked on the apartment door. It was Ozzie's idea that he even was here. Maybe if they talked some more, he could release years worth of pent up feelings.

Maybe.

"Heya Blitz, I got some coffee, let me in, I -- " He paused for a minute. "I sorta want to talk to you."

[hazbincalifornia]

Choice

Chapter 24:  Blitzo goes back to work.

Warnings: As always, mpreg, and an IMP death relating to hanging.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

“Welcome back, Blitzo!” Millie smiled from her seat atop Loona’s desk as Blitzo threw the door to the office open. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I’m sure it-”

“Millz, love you to death, but put a sock in it before I do it for you,” he growled, eyes narrow and fists clenched tighter than a politician’s asshole as he chucked his already-drained iced coffee cup into the trash. Loona shuffled in behind him and dropped on the couch, pointedly focusing on her phone screen.

“Geez, who whizzed in your cereal? Something happen?” Millie blinked, bouncing herself up a bit on her seat to keep at his eye level. “Can we help?”

Moxxie emerged from Blitzo's office, shuffling papers. “We’ve managed the cases so far just fine, but I need you to sign off on-”

“You can sign my-” Blitzo sucked in a deep breath, pinching his forehead before letting it out. “Fine, everything’s fine.”

Moxxie raised an eyebrow. “I take it something went wrong. That, or you’re just sex-hungover. That can happen, you know-”

Millie cut him off with a click of her tongue, and his mouth snapped shut. “Moxxie, we don’t need the honeymoon story, I think somethin’s really wrong. He looks all slumpy, like a willow-weed in the r-”

“Can both of you lay off? I don't need the tag-team act right now.” Blitzo wove around Moxxie and his pile of paperwork to enter his office- the one that Moxxie shouldn't have been gallivanting in and out of. “You two deal with the client, I just really, really want to fucking shoot something, so tell me when the deal’s done, alright?”

Millie sucked in her cheek and Moxxie glanced over to her before his eyes flicked back to Blitzo, whose fingers twitched before he slammed the door in their faces.

_______________________

Three sharp knocks on the door. “Sir? It’s time to go, unless you want us to work by ourselves again. We’re more than capable-”

“No, I’m up, I’m up.” Blitzo scrubbed at his eyes- any attempts to fall asleep at his desk and make up for the complete lack of any kind of rest last night had been thoroughly thwarted by his brain going at a hundred miles an hour. (The coffee wasn’t to blame. Probably. He’d fallen asleep on way more than the piddly single one he’d downed in the past.) Mostly, it had been wanting to throttle Stolas mixed with wanting to throttle himself, and then imagining rapidly escalating scenarios of where he might be able to chuck the kid once they popped out. (Currently, he was at ‘trying to slingshot them up to Heaven just to see what they’d do with it.’ In all likelihood, it’d be crucifix batting practice.)

“It’s one that the client said might be suicidal, but she seemed quite self-important and thought that her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to live without her anyway, so I wouldn’t trust that.” The chair creaked as Blitzo got up, but if it was because it was a couple years old and salvaged from the back of the circus’s dump or because of the deadweight around his gut that had officially turned his shirt into a crop top was anybody’s guess. 

As he entered the main room, Moxxie was rubbing a cloth over the musical note on the side of his gun, and Millie fussed with a length of rope while humming to herself.

“I’unno sugar, the client said he was kinda hefty…”

“We have other options if it breaks, and clients often exaggerate that sort of thing. Besides, it just needs to hold him long enough to snap the neck, or at least asphyxiate him. Then they’ll just assume it broke after he died.”

“I’m just saying, it’s more cleanup.”

“Well, this is the kind of rope they can usually get topside, so I say we- oh, good, you’re here.” Moxxie pointed to the paper piled up on the coffee table. “I already did all the hard bits, I just need your signature.”

“Right, right. Signature. Got it. Then we get to go kill something, right?”

Moxxie glanced over at Millie, and the look they exchanged passed way more information than Blitzo’d ever be able to parse. Must be a marriage thing. Must be nice, too. Being able to know what each other was thinking and shit. Real useful.

“Yeah, hun, then we can go kill something. Nothing like some good ol’ violence to get the blood pumping, right?” Millie smiled as Blitzo dashed off a loopy B on each of the papers. Most of them were bills, a few were paychecks that he’d probably just forgotten in the mess of the past few months since Moxxie would know better than to try and slip extras in since it would destroy the budget anyway, there was one approving the repairs for the fire, right, right, this was why he let Moxxie handle all the boring shit, at least it was easy to just sign the dotted line- there. Done.

Blitzo cracked his knuckles, tail snapping in mid-air. “Right! Let’s go fuck somebody up!”

“There we go!” Millie gave a little laugh, punching his arm as Moxxie picked up the Grimoire and opened to the right page before drawing the circle with his free hand. Loona was still settled on the couch behind him, nursing a sports drink from the fridge and half-watching the three of them, head tilted slightly.

Moxxie nodded to the portal, setting the book down on the desk. “Right behind you, sir.”

____________________

The guy didn’t even fight back when they woke him up and strung him up. What a wuss. Hangings were usually fun since they squirmed and made funny noises while trying to break free if the neck didn't snap when the chair dropped, but it wasn’t nearly bloody enough for Blitzo’s taste today. Oh, sure, he’d clawed at the rope that had manufactured nylon sharp enough to carve out blood from under his nails, but his face was purpling at a rapid rate, so they probably didn’t have to do anything other than let gravity finish the job for them, especially considering his kicks were starting to slow anyway.

“You want to go watch some wrestling death-matches when we get back home? I heard they’re bringing the Big Boar in, he’s some sinner who was a lucador back in life. That’ll get some of that killer instinct out.” Millie gave a playful growl as she rummaged around in the target’s belongings. Blitzo watched her hips waggle for a moment before she made a little ‘hmmph’ at a pin-up cowgirl calendar.

“Hmm… tempting, Millz, tempting.”

“Pride wrestling’s more like good ol’ fashioned blood sport, especially when they get the guys that can regenerate limbs!” She ground her fist into her palm with an intense look. Moxxie rolled his eyes as Blitzo leaned against the wall.

“Pl-ease… sa...ve..” the human wheezed out before Moxxie poked at his stomach, and he coughed up blood directly on the little imp before falling limp. Moxxie grimaced, using the man’s somewhat-sweaty bedsheet nearby to clean himself off.

“Perhaps you could invite his highness? I remember him saying something about-”

“Nope,”  Blitzo snapped out immediately. “Not gonna fuckin’ happen.”

Moxxie raised an eyebrow, dropping the sheets. “It was just a suggestion, sir. Had too much of him over the past few days?”

“You could say that,” Blitzo muttered, a hand resting on his stomach, and Millie's eyes softened.

“Aw, you could have said something. He ride you too hard?”

The fingers curled inwards, claws dragging above the surface and lighting it up red, forcing him away from his own skin. “Something along those lines, yeah. You two can drop this anytime, you know.”

“Well, at least the little one will be out of your hair soon,” Moxxie said. “Just a few more months, then I would imagine it’s just visitations now and then. You said that you’d already discussed things with him about custody, right?”

Blitzo swallowed, the hand raising up from his belly to rub at the back of his neck. “So, er, about that-”

The wood groaned as Moxxie took a step forward. “No. You didn’t.”

“Come on, Moxx, he was drooling over it, how the fuck was I supposed to know he wanted me to-”

Moxxie threw up his hands. “What have I told you? To think about what you’re doing! What do you do? Throw yourself-”

“Oh, you think this is my fault?”

“Of course it’s your fault!” Moxxie folded his arms. “What did I say when you were considering keeping it? That it was going to be a big responsibility! You barely can call Loona civilized and she’s somehow a legal adult, what in the seven rings would you fuck up if you had to raise an actual child?”

“Exactly! I don’t fucking want to!” Blitzo spat out with enough venom to make Moxxie’s fingers tighten on his arms. “That’s the point, I thought this was just going to be for a couple of months and then yeah, maybe getting to see them now and then wouldn't suck the worst ass if they turn out cool, but I’ve got other shit to do! I’m a busy guy, and I’d definitely fuck it-”

“Blitzo…” Millie reached out a hand before curling it into a loose fist in midair. “Hun, I’m sorry.”

“Yes. Thank you, Millie.”

“Although…” She gnawed on her lip for a moment, and he groaned.

“Don’t you start-”

“Why did you adopt Loona then? I’m genuinely wonderin’, that’s all. You love her to bits, why’s this different? If you hadn’t done that I wouldn’t be askin’, but… you like being a dad.”

“I…” He trailed off. There was a scuttering in the wall behind him, like a roach or some other grimy-grody pest, and a chill drilled down the vertebrae of his spine as a shiver ran through his bones. Why was the sweat dripping down his side cold, like condensation on the side of a frozen water bottle? Damned drafty house. “I wanted to be there for somebody, somebody that I chose to be, and that won't-" He cleared his throat, shaking his head to start over. "Anyway, she’s a good kid who's figuring her shit out and I like hanging out with her. I'm glad to be her dad. That's different."

“Why would this be so bad, then?” Millie repeated. 

Blitzo scoffed. “ ‘Cause I got Loona when she was older and I had to go through a buncha bullshit to sign the papers instead of just getting nutted in and having it sprung on me? That was an active effort, and teenagers are basically an entirely different species from babies, I’ve only had to clean up her shit a couple of times-”

“Did not need to know that,” Moxxie muttered.

“-Shut up Moxxie, but anyway, point is, Loonie was already walking and talking and has her own tastes and shit, most babies are just worthless little parasites until they’re, like, ten. I was a fuckin’ miserable little thing to deal with according to literally fucking everybody, so why the fuck would I want to inflict that on myself when I can help somebody that’s already gotten through most of the annoying phase? Plus, her sense of fashion kicks ass. Babies can't pick you out dope outfits." His tail snaked up and tapped his shoulder. "Point to me, excellent reasoning.”

“She’s still your daughter, and you still have to deal with a lot from-” Millie tried to continue, but Blitzo held up a hand.

“Look, it’s just different, okay? The apartment’s crowded enough. I’ll figure this out somehow.”

“...If you’re sure,” Millie said, shifting her weight on the creaky floorboards. “How did the prince take it?”

“Ugh, you really think I want to get deep into his little wah-wah I-thought-you-knew bullshittery?” Blitzo snorted. “I don’t give a shit what he thinks, he should have been upfront about the fact that I was going to be ruining both me and the squirt’s life instead of just being a fuckin’ incubator for cash. End of story.”

There was a nudge from inside of him that was much sharper than usual, and Blitzo’s eyes snapped down.

“Did you just fuckin’ bite me?”

[hazbincalifornia]

I sometimes wish Barbie was already introduced just to have her show up and see her brother waddling around with that bump and give it a poke asking what in all the rings does he have brewing in there?

It isn't hard to find his apartment. He's got billboards with his face up advertising some kind of business where he kills up in the human world, and breaking into his office at night is child's play for an acrobat. (She notes that he's got their double act poster up in the main room, but only has his in his office. Typical Blitzo.) From there, he's got bills wadded up in the trash with the apartment's name and number. Easy.

She could have just called, but that wouldn't have been nearly as fun as rummaging through his trash. He would have found an excuse to avoid her anyway.

(Besides, he'd probably changed his number by now. He tended to attract enemies like shit attracted bugdogs.)

Her fingers curled before rapping on the door, and a clatter sounded inside.

"If it's the landlord, tell him I'm getting to it!" He sounded almost exactly the same.

"Why do you think I'm going to answer it?" Huh, a female voice. A girlfriend, maybe? It sounded way too old to be a kid, and he sure hadn't had one by the time they split.

"You're the one who can get off the couch, c'mon, please honey?" Definitely a girlfriend, then. What was with that comment? Had he gotten really fat or something?

"Fine, but you owe me dibs on the next movie." There was a creak on the floor before the door was yanked open and Barbie was faced with an eyeful of hellhound tits.

Huh.

"Uh-" The hound blinked at her before calling back. "Blitz! It's a code white!"

"The fuck did that mean again?"

Barbie cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hey, dipshit!" She grinned as there was a thud.

"What the- Barbie?"

"Figured I'd drop by and see my little brother. See how you're doing without me and all that. It's a scary world out there."

"Younger by ten minutes," he bitched back, an echo of an age-old argument, and Barbie popped up on her toes to peer over the stoic hound's shoulder. Blitzo was leaning against the counter, more scarred than she'd last seen him but otherwise looking like the same Blitzo. It was almost nostalgic.

Then, he rounded that counter, and her jaw dropped.

"Holy shit."

"You picked a hell of a time to pop by for a visit." He cracked his back with a wince, pregnant belly jutting out even further. It looked like one of her old balancing balls had been stuffed under his skin.

"Apparently, god damn." She ducked under the hound's arm, crossing the kitchen in just a few steps. "Gotta say, on the list of shit I expected, this wasn't even on the top ten."

"What was?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, you know. You laying in a pool of your own vomit trying to follow in sissy's footsteps or whoring yourself out to get told you're a pretty boy- although I'm not sure that one isn't what happened, honestly-"

"It's not, fuck off," Blitzo snarled.

"So, whose is it?" She flipped her thumb back. "The hound's?"

There were twin gags in front of and behind her before they protested in unison.

"She's my daughter!"

"You think I'd want to fuck him?"

"Okay, so no." He'd adopted a hellhound, of course he had. He'd probably gotten too attached after hiring her for some job, sentimental little prick.

Not so little anymore though- there was the gut, of course, but with his horns, he'd probably be a bit taller than her if he wasn't such a slouch. She automatically straightened her posture.

"So, if it's not hers, whose is it?" She chewed on her lip. "One of Verosika's crew? Some of those dudes were pretty hot."

"No, it's not- we broke up like five years ago."

"Look, I haven't seen you in ages, I'm probably not gonna guess right." She set a hand on the bump, and it squirmed under the touch. "I could see you knocking somebody else up, but not letting it get this far on yourself unless you had a damn good reason. I also don't see a ring, so spill."

"You don't just-" he sputtered. "You can't just waltz into my house and demand I-"

"I'll tell your hound embarrassing shit about when you were little."

"You wouldn't-"

She spun on her heels, looking at the hellhound. "Hey, kid, he ever tell you the story about the time he drank piss and-"

"Fine, fine, jesus fuck." His claws dug into the countertop and she snickered.

"You never change, Blitzy. So easy to rile up."

One of his eyes twitched. "It's-" He dragged a hand down his face. "It's a long fuckin' story, so grab a soda out of the fridge and you aren't allowed to laugh at me until I'm done or I'm changing the locks, got it?"

"As if that'd stop me, but fine, I'll play ball." She shrugged, following instructions and plopping down on the arm of the couch, kicking up her feet on the coffee table as he eased himself down on the cushions.

"It's Stolas's."

"Who's that? I don't know any of your new friends yet." She took a sip as he rubbed his temples.

"He's a prince." Foam splashed his face as she spat it out in a sputter.

"He's fucking what?"

[hazbincalifornia]

Sip

Chapter 14: Blitzo tells Stolas something new.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Warnings: Mpreg

Ao3 link

Blitzo flopped back on his bed with an annoyed grunt as his shirt refused to tug down far enough to cover his stomach. The only things that actually fit properly were his hoodies, actually- everything else was too damn tight. Curse his fashionable sensibilities!

Stolas had insisted on meeting in person again for today. Unfortunately, Blitzo had only fully realized that he was starting to get too big for his closet when one of the buttons had popped on his jacket, and Millie had pointed out that his turtleneck had started riding up. He couldn’t really tug his pants up to cover it without looking like a dweeb, so…

Blitzo sighed, sorting through his hoodies before settling on the pink off-shoulder sweater. It was loose enough to make the bump much less obvious, without having to draw too much attention to himself or wear something Stolas gave him. It was a Wednesday, so hopefully, the café wouldn’t be too busy.

_________________

“Ah, there you are!” Stolas waved, grinning as Blitzo nodded back at him.

“Hey.”

“So, any news?” He lifted a small fabric bag. “I brought some teas, to help with nausea.”

Blitzo snatched the bag, peering inside. “Considering the coffee I can drink has been watered down to piss, I might as well give it a try to have something.”

“That’s the spirit!” Stolas dropped down into a booth in the back corner. There was a general bustle around them, but other than a few glances at Stolas, nobody really seemed to be paying them that much attention. Blitzo had a pair of handguns in holsters just in case anybody got any funny ideas, though. “Now, what’s the news?”

“Well…” Blitzo glanced around before tugging on the bottom of his sweater. “The kid’s started getting weird-ass cravings.”

“Oh? What kind?” Stolas waved over to an employee.

“Flesh, mostly,” Blitzo said, picking at the dirt under his nails and flicking it under the table as a teenager in a stained apron came over. Stolas ordered some fancy-sounding drink for both of them, and when the employee started to say something about how they were supposed to order at the front, Stolas waved a fistful of bills. He grabbed them and stuffed them in the apron pocket, hurrying over to the counter.

“Flesh? Interesting… well, tell me if you need any recipes, the chefs have some fascinating ways to cook meat. What kind of flesh?”

“Any, but human especially.”

Stolas couldn’t help a little laugh. “I take it you take care of those urges after you finish a job?”

Blitzo’s fingers tightened into a fist, and a low growl started in his chest. “It’s not like-”

“No, no, I’m not insulting you- it’s quite lucky you have the job that you do if that’s what they want, that’s all!” Stolas looked down at Blitzo. “I’d love to see those humans scream if you chose to just rip their throat out instead of taking them out how you usually do.” His eyes flashed. “You can get quite wild when so inclined.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t already know.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Why don’t I what?” Blitzo raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms, and Stolas tapped his forehead right on the symbol with a slender finger.

“Tell me something that I don’t already know,” Stolas replied, bemused. “That’s what these meetings are for, aren’t they?”

“Oh, right. Right!” Blitzo cleared his throat. “Well-”

“Here you go!” The employee set down two lidded cups, and Stolas shooed him away.

“You were saying?” He raised the cup to his beak.

“Before that pimple-faced puberty bomb interrupted us, I was going to say that the kid started moving.”

Stolas spat the scalding-hot tea directly into Blitzo’s face, slamming the cup down on the table. “They what?”

Blitzo scrubbed at it, tongue slithering out as it soaked the pink fabric of the sleeve. Peachy. “Give a guy some fucking warning, won’t you? I don’t need your birdy backwash!”

“They- they moved?” All four of Stolas’s eyes were blown wide open and he shifted in the booth, feathery ass squeaking as he scooted down the shiny seat until Blitzo was about to be squeezed off the edge. Considering he’d started sweating again, his slippery ass just might have if Stolas hadn’t managed to stop himself in time.

“Personal space, much?”

“I- I assumed they’d be an egg, but of course, imps are live births, aren’t they?” Blitzo wasn’t sure if there was any disappointment in Stolas’s tone, but his hands were shaking before wrapping around the bump, pressing the pink fabric firmly around it to mold to the shape. Not for the first time, Blitzo realized just how big those hands were- everything about the guy was huge, including the manic grin spreading across his face as Stolas bent over him. “Can you make them do it again?”

“They do whatever the hell they want, I can’t control- oh, huh.” As if summoned, the little squirt nudged outwards, and Stolas’s fingers tightened. “Don’t pop ‘em, I am not making another one.”

“They’re moving… that’s incredible,”  Stolas breathed. Blitzo glanced around- people were definitely staring now, and he reached around Stolas’s stick arms for one of the guns, waving it at anyone who ogled for too long.

“Don’t you all have your own fuckin’ lives to ruin?”

“Oh, Blitzy, don’t be so melodramatic, this is good! It means they’re healthy!” Stolas’s grin turned cheeky. “I notice you’re in a new outfit. Are your old clothes not fitting? I do like seeing you in something fresh…”

“Yeah, well, I have a specific fashion taste and baby gut doesn’t exactly play nice with clothes that show off my bod.”

“I think it looks darling,” Stolas said, snapping the strap of the black tank peeking out from underneath.

“Stolas!” Blitzo hissed.

“Blitz,” Stolas replied, setting his chin in his hand. “Is there anything else you’ve been keeping from me, my little imp?”

Blitzo furiously re-adjusted the strap. The tank rode the hell up now, but it just felt too weird to wear the sweater without it. “That was the big one.” After Stolas had offered tea for the nausea, there was no real need to bring up the vomiting. He tried to think of it as little as possible the second after it ended anyway.

“Why didn’t you tell me on one of our calls?”

“Figured you’d want to hear the ‘big news’,” (here Blitzo waggled his fingers) “In person.”

“Oh, Blitzy...” His smile melted a little, earnest.

Blitzo grabbed his cup, chugging about half of it in one go before sputtering. “What is this?”

“Oh, it’s a favorite of mine! Do you like it?”

Swallowing down the rest of it in his throat, Blitzo swished saliva around in his mouth before taking another tentative sip. “Well, it tastes better the second time.”

“You’re not supposed to drink it all at once.”

“I don’t need a fussy-ass drink.”

“Some things are more rewarding if you’re willing to wait,” Stolas said, taking a sip of his own. “How goes your job otherwise? Anything interesting besides cannibalizing your kills?”

“There was this one guy who ended up slipping in a puddle of his own piss…”

The rest of the meeting ended up being Blitzo just laughing about particularly idiotic targets and how IMP took them out, but at least Stolas was a half-decent listener. Blitzo already knew that he was a regular client sometimes, but he really seemed invested in the nitty-gritties of just how they went through the process of elimination. Stolas ended up scribbling the drink order down on a napkin ‘in case you ever decide you want some while thinking of me, Blitzy’, and the kid didn’t kick at all on the walk home.

By the time Blitzo was settled back on his bed, they made a single little push outwards, and he found himself absently rubbing his side next to the bump. “Yeah, yeah. I hear you, kid. We’ll get some popcorn later.”

A smile twitched at his face as he imagined the movement afterward was from their hand and they were giving him a little high-five.

[floralkittygambler]

Shit to add: 1 - Fanservice is getting as far as some of the artists lowkey getting shipped with characters [fine as an inside joke but Ive seen it highly public too, mainly with probablyfakeblonde and Valentino - its a little awkward after a bit]. Likewise, glorifying abuse and sexual harassment, Stolitz, HuskerDust implications [even though Husk’s being harassed and is clearly uncomfortable... Just like Blitzo and Stolas, which can be even more offensive to those who worship the deity/demon of Stolas irl]. Notice how Charlie/Vaggie’s account [aka the mains] are mostly inactive. Most of the female cast’s stuff is rarely touched on. Only cringy fanservicey ship shit is. 2 - I used to pay for one of the highest patreon tiers. She’s meeting even LESS of her initially promised demands to the point the patreon is rarely updated. When it is, we get half promises [even voting on monthly arts as secret gifts to those paying, we get to vote occasionally and see results even less. The most recent was October I think? Between Mil x Mox and Chaggie, Chaggie won btw and we still havent seen it], there’s no more behind the scenes, in fact the streams show more behind the scenes as youd never be notified there - not even about surprise streams or new merch, nothing. I pay less now but still enough for the Discord and they had to ban one fella who I could see the MOMENT I JOINED was a bit too obsessive [Im keeping his privacy, so please dont ask me to do that to him.] yet he was given many chances. We’re given quite a few rules on being courteous yet many are kinda rude imo- the people, I mean. I expressed some of my issues with HuskerDust as well as briefly that Ive been through unpleasant harassment like that, yet one member specifically who adores that ship fuckin ripped into me and constantly started talking about it in the chat despite me politely asking her to take it elsewhere [as this is for questions, canon shit, voice calls with viv and fans], yeah she didnt respect that at all and I got a member DM me apologising for her behaviour but that she’s normally argumentative and to ignore her. I appreciate their kindness but they dodged the question as to why she’s still allowed to be that way in a PAID DISCORD. It’s like paying to be kicked in the dick. Also some of her friends were cheering for her. Thanks for allowing bullying. Canon info changes like the sea and contradicts, Viv needed help with... Ok she didnt want it public BUUUT Ive seen many public posts about it now as people found out anyways. Her dA was hacked and she wanted the old account deleted [none of her old shit was on there anyways]. So I filed the issue to dA on multiple platforms for her and a contact file [only the direct contact did I give her identity fyi]. Yeah many in the group treated me like shit for it - either I was simping hard for viv [fyi when youre a public figure, it’s more imperative you file yourself otherwise public complaints mean fuck all so I had to claim we were good friends bc that’s how these things work. Ive done this legal shit for others before on deeper levels], or that I didnt use her full name on the file [I prefer that when it gets to EMAILS as some complaint files go to public forums - since Fiverr nearly got me fuckin doxxed that way, the bastards], or for other stupid reasons. I told them to stop working at theyre looking at a day or two at MOST for it to be removed, whilst encouraging Viv to submit her own file. Apparently I wasnt empathetic over the situation and didnt care enough. No, Im a fucking adult who’s dealt with technical shit and files so much that I know how they work, how long they typically take and that worrying about something outside my control causes harm to me and no good in solving shit - even the guy who eventually got banned ripped into me. Most there are ‘stans’ and quite... Aggressive too- I know this could be seen as breaching my side BUT Viv’s already breached her own patreon rules by under supplying based on her Tiers rewards, spoiling things publicly only for us patreons to find out later, getting info that we cant even rely on usually, and just... If she cant meet those demands as shes busy [understandable], she needs to either lower prices, change rewards, schedule better and lessen her load overall OR put her Patreon on Holiday [this means she wont get paid but fans then arent paying for nothing - fyi Im paying $50 for a chatroom that can be quite toxic or entitled and the info we do learn is... questionable at times]. Likewise, she’s missed some of her patreon calls or came but just for a short chat and go. It’s honestly a shameful mess... 3 - Remember that stolen pin art? She confessed in the group she was dealing with it with the artists privately and that she wouldnt publicly address it as it would hopefully die down. Yknow, the ONE bit of information that SHOULD BE PUBLIC. She seems to mix up what should be exclusives and what NEEDS to be publicly addressed. It’s a mess and really unprofessional. Plus many of her VAs, Artists, team, etc post a lot of non-canon ships they favour [which are quite ooc from canon despite it be something theyre working on], have a lot of oc inserts [interestingly Faust admits her and Viv shipped Tyco with Angel but due to copyright works they couldnt be arsed to go through that to give Viv the rights to Tyco and make it canon? What? Even though one of the art pieces in the background feature tyco’s hand holding the glass angel’s in- I know that cameos dont mean you own that character but with the oc thing it’s... messy. Fine lines], probablyfakeblond and val [thats all I need to say there, it’s like the IGs are fanon rp accounts, but Ive seen many fan ones run better and more canonically accurate], speak a lot of their thoughts/hcs which is a breach of confidenciality plus odd considering many of these dont work close enough in the departments to even have these says then fans take it canon, jokes end up canon that shouldnt be, facts being muddled, if anyone working happens to like something as personal preference its treated as gospel, I could go on but overall it’s such a fucking mess and a shame- It makes me angry because it has a LOT of potential. You can see preferences and bias, how easy fans can influence the series [MINUS petitions] and how fan works become canon [Addict was a fan song, Viv in discord confirms that it was a fan running Cherri’s IG and was found out late - not publicly addressed when it should have been and played off publicly as Cherri having troubles based on Angels selfie with her - kinda fucked up and kinda insensitive way to portray personal struggles], have a habit of deleting IG posts and act like they never existed [odd move tbh- yet keep up naked stolas- likewise some of the posts dont suit the characters personalities], overall everything is a clusterfuck that’ll only tangle more the way YanDevs YanSim is and itll get worse and worse until real action takes place. The IGs could be an AR oppurtunity to learn about the characters, their friends, their life and interests. Nah, just make it fanservicey and ship fuckery. A character doesnt show interest? Awww they’re playing hard to- *No*.  Hazbin will either not come to be OR will emerge as highly flawed and mediocre [the way YanSim’s goin] if this keeps up. But with the odd sprinkle of attempted self improvement, only to be immediately dismissed the next day on the character IGs for fan service [Stolas in Ep 2: I’ll never leave my daughter, improve for her and show that I wont run off with Blitz and leave her! Stolas next day IG: Ill call you daddy Blitzy~ xxxx <--- Seriously how blind can you be? How weak do your character development skills have to be to put a fuckin reverse uno that quick? Why should we pity and side with this disgusting cheater when he and his wife are both fucking up their daughter?]

Wait a FUCKING minute didn’t Hazbin’s pilot release in October? (I believe the 31st or something?) Ok, so where the fuck are the updates on ANYTHING? Those comics? Anything at all? It’s been nearly a year, and it’s just been radio silence aside from a few small updates here and there? Go on girl, give us nothing! ❤️

[hazbincalifornia]

young Blitz realizing his new bf, father of the baby he’s carrying is a fallen angel.

It had been an off-handed mention, so quickly Blitzo almost hadn’t caught it.

“Back after the Fall…”

He must have misheard. Stolas was… like thirty, probably? Little more, little less, something around there. He’d never really bothered looking further into Stolas’s history, sure of what he’d see- a prince was a prince, it got him money and power and a bunch of boring junk he had to do, but that was all. Nothing but stuffy, boring assholes all the way down.

Now, he bothered to do his homework, and his eyes widened the further he scrolled.

Stolas was… old. Way older than he’d thought. He’d mostly focused on work before being married off a few years ago, so he didn’t have a litter of kids from previous centuries or anything, but he’d been lurking in the background of Hell’s politics for eons, and he’d Fallen with Lucifer himself.

Blitzo’s fingers curled around his stomach, swearing he could feel a a pulse from inside at the baby’s slightest movement. “Your daddy’s a fuckin’ Fallen…” he muttered, throat bobbing as he swallowed. “You better not tear out of me in a pillar of light or some shit, got it?”