#daddy blitzo

[hazbincalifornia]

I got a comm of Aster and Stolas gardening together from @impassociate! 🌱

[hazbincalifornia]

get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant get pregn

[hazbincalifornia]

Daddy, baby, and extra baby are all waking up together and hungry for breakfast! 🍳🥓

[hazbincalifornia]

I like the fact that Millie acted as midwife in OT even more now. Seeing and poking around at his pussy in high-def while he’s squeezing out a baby, hashtag just bestie things

[hazbincalifornia]

Name Game

Chapter 68: Blitzo leaves Wrath, has a realization, and discusses names.

Ao3 link

Blitzo sighed as he slumped in the back seat of the van, the baby securely wrapped in his arms. Moxxie had taken driving duty back to Pride, as his squawk when Blitzo had tried to climb into the front the day after giving birth had nearly rivaled one of Stolas’s but much less fun. At this point, though, Blitzo wasn’t particularly in the mood to argue- besides, being in the back meant getting to hold the new little bird-imp nugget, so he’d take it as a win overall.

Stolas had ended up taking him back to the cabin once he was confident enough in his magic store to draw up his imp disguise at least briefly, and they’d managed to pass Millie’s parents by keeping the baby pressed tightly against his chest and covered with a blanket. (Her mother, at least, had slapped him on the back when he automatically hissed at her and snapped his tail with a whipcrack as she attempted to get a look, saying those protective instincts were a ‘damned good thing’. Small mercies.)

Unfortunately, sleep had not come easy. Blitzo had managed to get some milk out into a bottle with one of the pumps that, thankfully, Stolas had been able to use the book to grab from the apartment- despite how fucking weird that felt to have something pulled out of his tits by a machine. Even then, a good chunk of the night had seen Blitzo prowling the perimeter as well as he could on wobbly legs looking outside the windows for any indication of trouble. Exhaustion pulled at his bones and guts like blessed iron being pressed through a meat grinder, but jitters made it impossible to even sit down for more than a few minutes. He checked in on the baby sleeping in a borrowed basket on every round, as well as replacing the bandages on the too-white scratches that still sluggishly dripped black if they were left uncovered for too long.

(The fact that she awoke crying three times didn’t exactly help either, but she soothed as he rocked her in his arms and fed her and changed her the same way he remembered helping with new babies as a kid at the circus, and seeing her relax against him, so trusting, had his sore stomach fluttering. Real. She was real.)

Now, as they headed back home to Pride, his stomach cramped for a different reason as coos sounded from his arms.

Doctor Cere will take good care of you and the child. Aamon recommended her, he said she’s helped with cases similar to ours.

He’d believe it when he saw it. He hadn’t seen a doctor willingly since the fire outside of care for Loona, and if this bitch tried to harm a feather on his baby’s head-

Fuck. They really did need a name for her. Calling her Baby would only work for so long, he wanted her to have an actual identity outside of being a little meatball. (Apparently he and Barb had been Baby One and Baby Two for like a week and a half before actual names were decided on. Shit, there was one kid back at the circus they’d never given a real name, and that Baby had ended up with some weird fuckin’ issues, so name-deciding was knocked up to the first order of business once he met back up with Stolas.)

He'd pulled on clothes that hung looser on his frame now that the kid was on the outside. It seemed like his hips and ass had retained enough junk in the trunk to keep the waistband up, even if the shirt was less flattering now that there was a lack of a sweaty meat dome to cling to, so it just kind of draped over his tits like a deflated balloon. Millie was in the back next to him as Loona took the passenger seat, mostly because she was too big to comfortably fit anywhere else.

The drive was… uneventful, all things considered. Occasionally, Millie made silly faces or noises to please the baby, and Blitzo was reminded of how she apparently was the oldest of her family- she was definitely good with kids, and when he stopped feeling like having her more than a room away from him would tear his chest out, he’d be sure to let her and Moxxie babysit. Moxxie would probably make, like, organic nuggets or some shit like that, but it’d be good for her. For now, the little owl-impling seemed to enjoy Millie's playing, giggling and bubbling out approval as she snapped at the air with her beak. Content with the world.

Loona, meanwhile, switched between looking at her phone and attempting to look like she was wasn't checking in on them by carefully angling the screen. A swell of comfortable warmth made it hard not to lean forward and pepper her in kisses for caring in her own way. Moxxie had even been allowed to play the Catz soundtrack, as Blitzo wasn’t going to deal with the fallout at the moment of telling him he actually thought it was horseshit and he’d lied to him all those months ago after not being able to bring himself to ruin the look in his his eager eyes and Loona had popped in her own earbuds.

The van pulled to a stop in front of Stolas’s palace- it had seemed better to have the doctor go to the location that was easy to find, instead of telling her where he lived. Besides, Stella was apparently out with her brother. (That didn’t make his legs any more solid as he stepped out of the van and started towards the front door, one hoof at a time.)

“We’ll pick you up later if you need, alright, sir?” Moxxie called out. “That is, if he can’t just send you home himself.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” Blitzo said with a wave of his hand, shifting the baby and the bag of supplies slung over his arm as he did and feeling a tiny flick of baby tail underneath the blanket in response. “Just gotta shove a probe up my baby-cave or whatever to make sure it’s all ship-shape and ready for fist-mounted action again.”

Moxxie’s face furrowed, and Blitzo couldn’t help a grin to himself as Moxxie snapped out ‘too much information!’ before peeling away and leaving Blitzo- well, not quite alone, considering the weight in his arms.

Her face turned to the palace, and she made a pleased-sounding peep. “It’s pretty, huh?” She didn’t nod, but did keep looking at it, one arm wriggling out of her blanket to reach up. “Take it all in, it’s where your other dad grew up, all fancy and shit.” She made a chirp of agreement as Blitzo started walking again. As tempting as it was to try and crawl up a tree to get up to the balcony, he didn’t trust himself to keep her properly secure and the attempt last time had just ended in a sticky embarrassing mess, so walking up to the front door and knocking it was.

The butler with the slight crack in his horn answered the door, looking him up and down.

“Is that the child?”

“Mhm. Is Stolas back yet?”

“He was in his study, the last that I saw him.” He turned on his heels, posture straight as the stick that seemed to be up his ass, and Blitzo followed as he hurried down the hall.

The portraits still stared down at the trio, but when the baby stuck her little tongue out at one of them, Blitzo couldn’t help a little snicker. Fuck those stuffy bitches.

“Sooooo,” he started after they’d been walking for a few minutes in silence, accompanied only by the clicks of hooves and shoes. “How long have you been working here?”

“Why?”

“I’m just curious if you ever saw his kid as a baby.”

“Ah, no, she was a few years old and already toddling around when I was hired,” he replied, still facing forward with a tone as dry as the flattest plains of Wrath. "I suppose I was lucky that they only had the one child. I don't think the palace would have withstood dealing with princess Stella pregnant twice, from what I've been told."

“I was just curious if the plucked chicken nugget look was normal,” Blitzo said. “I saw a picture of Stolas when he was a little Stolas-ling, but the more I know, the better, right?” He angled the blanket to expose the baby’s face, and the other imp glanced over, then nodded.

“Mm, that looks… about right. They would know better than I would about that, I don't exactly make a habit of searching out how bird children should look.” He had a layer of something uncertain over his voice, like he still wasn’t quite sure how to take Blitzo strolling alongside him with a half-owl baby from his employer in arm.

“Yeah, we’re having some quack show up to make sure neither of us are about to keel over,” Blitzo said, refolding her to his chest, but having seen a new face got her squirmy, and he clicked his tongue at her. “C’mon, save that energy for the doc so we can get it over with, sweetie."

“Here we are.” They’d arrived at a pair of deep blue doors with golden knockers, and the butler rapped his knuckles on the left door three times. As they opened inwards by themselves, he nodded his head before stepping back, one eyebrow raised.

Sure enough, Stolas was inside, but what he was inside had Blitzo’s jaw twitch and threaten to fall open. The first thing that caught his attention were the stained glass windows that seemed spun of pure gold, depicting the moon as well as gorgeously sparkly stars in glittery glass. In front of them hung some sort of planetary diorama above a staircase that also had a design that traced the phases of the moon, the mirror reflection of the pattern was inlaid into Stolas’s desk.

Well, at least he remained on a theme. No wonder Stolas had chosen the day he did to get himself stuffed full with the deal, if this was where he spent his time doing prince-y shit. If Blitzo was surrounded by this many images of the moon on a daily basis, he'd start thinking of clapping cheeks when seeing the full one too.

Stolas himself was scribbling something on paper with a quill, but he looked up when Blitzo whistled for his attention.

“Oh, Blitz!” He set the quill aside. “How was the ride back? How is she?”

“Decent on both counts,” Blitzo said, walking around the desk to offer her up to Stolas, who eagerly took her. “She’s been eating just fine from the bottle so far, thank Satan.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Stolas said, shifting her into the crook of his elbow. She seemed so much smaller in his arms while she nearly spilled out of Blitzo’s unless he got the angle right, but she just gave a curious nip at the air at the movement, and little white pupils appeared in the middle of Stolas’s eyes as he stroked his finger up her cheek. “I was just trying to make up some work that had come in during the Festival, but the doctor should be here at around three.”

“Goody.” Blitzo took a deep breath and moved to pull himself up onto the desk to be closer to eye-level with Stolas, then nearly yelped when Stolas snapped his fingers and raised him up using magic before carefully depositing him next to the paperwork.

"You just gave birth, darling, do be careful."

"I'm a sturdy bitch,” Blitzo grumbled as he set the bag down.

"You also just pushed out a living being from inside your body. Please take it easy."

"Mmph." Blitzo crossed his arms, grimacing a little at the soreness from his chest.

“Thank you. However, there's also something else…” Stolas sucked in a breath, pulling out a specific piece of paper and handing it over to Blitzo, who had to scan it three times to make sure he was reading it properly.

“Stolas, this is-”

“I’m going to push Stella for a divorce.”

Blitzo’s fingers tightened on the form. “I thought you said you couldn’t.”

“Trust me, I’ve wanted to do it deep down for quite some time, but… I didn’t want to hurt Via, especially not with how the baby's made everything all the more complicated, and I know full well that this is not done. It’s going to be a very long, bumpy road.” Stolas looked down at the baby, who made a little purr as she reached up to try and pet at his cheek the same way he’d done to her. He bent his head forward to allow her contact and her purr intensified, squinting her eyes in delight. “After everything that’s happened, I have to consider her safety as well. If Stella was willing to murder a newborn, then… I have to show that I can’t tolerate this anymore, for my sake or hers.”

“What about Via? It seemed like she was coming around a little on the kid, but-” 

“She's nearly eighteen. I’ll have to discuss this with her, but she’s almost the age that I was when I was married, when I had to have her.” The words flowed out as if rehearsed, and he tapped his free fingers on the desk. “I didn’t want to involve her in this any more than I had to, to give her a normal childhood, but she’s nearly an adult now… even though it pains me to realize how much she’s grown in the past few years. I certainly won’t push her into marriage or out of the house, but she’s not a baby herself anymore either.”

Blitzo grimaced slightly at that- sure, he’d realized on some abstract level how the timing worked out to have Stolas be only a few years older than him with a bio kid that was seventeen, but hearing it from Stolas was a different story.

Lava boiled deep in his guts as multiple realizations crashed over each other.

“So you could have taken her this whole time?”

“No, I…” Stolas sighed. “I always knew Stella was a potential danger to the child, and things were already so rough, I didn’t want to put you or the baby in the middle of things, not when she’s been worse in the past few months than she was before, and that is… that was…” He fidgeted with fingers. “I didn’t want you harmed.”

“I can handle myself!”

“And what about the baby?” Stolas’s eyes darted down to her, visible pupils allowing Blitzo to follow them. “Blitz, I- it’s-” He wrung his hands. “I wasn’t prepared to let either of you be harmed. This is something I thought I could shoulder alone, but I can’t let it continue like this, not when...”

The sound of crashes in the kitchen and Stolas yelping from when he had stormed out after that first revelation flashed through Blitzo’s brain and sunk into the soft tissue like angelic lead.

He’d been too furious to process it at the time, but considering she was willing to not only assassinate Stolas, but a baby... that Stolas was vulnerable, had been dealing with this for at least as long as Octavia was around, since he was basically a kid himself...

Okay. Okay, yeah, maybe he could get why Stolas would be hesitant to bring the kid into the house, especially a half-imp bastard.

(And he hadn't even realized. He hadn't realized, and all this time, all this time-)

Blitzo’s fingers curled into fists, claws digging into the fabric of his gloves, because anger was easy to pull on, to smother everything else with. He would wring her fucking throat until it snapped and carve the bones into scrimshaw if that fucking harpy tried to touch a feather on her head- hers or Stolas’s.

(Could he even stop it? He almost hadn’t already, fuck, he hadn’t already… but he’d be blessed if he wasn’t going to try as a growl vibrated deep in his throat, simmering the blood beneath the skin.)

Stolas had gone back to focusing on the baby, but his posture had slumped, so Blitzo cleared his throat, trying to force out the sudden guilt sloshing in with the fury. Later. Deal with it later, bury it, channel it into something more useful than claws dragging gouges into the ancient wood desk. Don't be a worthless piece of shit now, like you already were by missing all this in the first place-

He snapped his tail against the side of the desk, the brief shot of sensation enough to snap his head back into the present for now. Do something useful. “Did you come up with any more names?”

“Names- oh!” Stolas’s pupils dipped to the baby again. “I… admit that I haven’t, with everything that’s gone on.”

“I figured we should probably get on that.”

“Yes, yes we should.” Stolas shifted the pile of papers to the side to set her down on the flat of the desk, and Blitzo spotted the Grimoire off to the side.

“Can I have that? Maybe we can find some inspiration. Royal fuckers name kids after past royal fuckers, right?”

“Mmm? Oh, yes, I’m actually the fourth Stolas of my line,” Stolas said, drumming his fingers in thought with satisfying clicks snapping out from his talons. “It might not be a bad idea to help reaffirm her royal status as well- if I’m going to be divorcing Stella, then it will show how sincerely I still intend to claim her. Taking in children from outside the marriage, particularly with non-Goetian parents… I’ve never heard of it happening before outside of fantasy, not unless they’re simply integrated into the household as regular servants and are treated as such. We’ll figure out moving in if you’d like that sometime later, after Stella’s officially out of the house.”

“Bucking shit-ass tradition, huh? I told you that you’d make a good bad boy,” Blitzo said with a half-grin, ruffling Stolas’s feather-hair. It fluffed up underneath his fingers with an amused and slightly flustered hoot before he grabbed for the book and started rifling through it.

“Hmm… you’ve gotta tell me if any of these are still around, I don’t want anybody coming for her head.”

“Certainly. Most of them have passed, that’s how the book came to be in my possession, but a few had it while in transitory phases and jotted down some notes of useful spells while the next in line was in training.”

Blitzo flipped through the pages. Boring, boring, couldn’t read, couldn’t read- “Oooh, you had somebody called Razorback?”

“That one wasn’t a Goetia, I believe- just a particularly talented sinner who had a partnership with one of my ancestors to help teach each other magic. That was back when particularly curious Hellborn royalty and sinners intermingled a bit more to try and learn things from each other. Fascinating time, but as the exterminations intensified, the bad blood from our Hellborn immunity to the purges grew and a few too many royals were stabbed rather violently in the process, so we generally separated ourselves from the more powerful of the damned except in special cases, and only keep around those who aren’t likely to cause trouble- generally those without powers of their own.” Stolas had a hand on his chin as he tickled the baby with one of his feathers, and she let out a peal of delighted laughter, shaking in her onesie with kicky feet.

“Huh. Musta been way before my time, I don’t remember your lot ever being anything but stuck up their own asses and off doing your own thing,” Blitzo muttered, and Stolas nodded.

“Mmm, it was several millennia ago. That’s why the only sinners around here are two of the cooks and one of the tailors, and the Goetia who live in other rings don’t tend to interact with them at all if they can help it. I do sometimes enjoy speaking with them about their past lives when I get the chance, though.”

Blitzo continued to flip through the pages as Stolas distracted the baby with his hand. She gripped onto his left index finger and flexed her own tiny hand around it, the color a few shades darker than the rest of her skin. It was probably going to look like Stolas’s as she got older and it solidified, and she seemed fascinated by the long, slender appendages.

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” Stolas cooed at her as she loosened and tightened her grip. “And so smart too, just like your father.”

“Between my street and combat smarts and your nerd-brain, she’s going to be a regular whiz kid,” Blitzo said. “Hmm. Rufri?”

“No, they’re still alive and rather rude, they wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Oooh, this one looks fun. Castima?”

Stolas shook his head. “She perished from a holy weapon wielded by a scorned stalker, if I recall correctly. They found her as more hole than person.”

“Fuck, now that’s a real crime of passion.” He paused at a page that looked vaguely familiar. “Hey, who was Stellar Lunar?”

“Oh, they were quite interesting- they were keen on offensive spells and killing enemies without leaving a trace of the reason of death to drive their families and friends mad. A bit unhinged, but they were quite the clever sorcerer in his day, albeit with an interesting sense of humor. They ran off sometime in their two hundreds and were never seen again, and some suspect it was with a lover as they never married. I doubt they're still alive by now, they were rather… reckless,” Stolas tilted his head. “Did you like that one?”

“We could roll it together,” Blitzo said, tracing his fingertips over the loopy handwriting with doodles of a sky scattered with bones. “Stellaluna.”

Stolas clicked his beak. “Are you sure?”

“I mean, we could just make it the second for official shit- Stellar Lunar the Second does have a nice ring to it. Fancy but fun.”

Stolas glanced over at the divorce papers pushed aside on the desk, shoulders tightening a little. “She won’t like it. It’s too close to hers.”

“If it’ll piss her off half as much as she deserves for trying to kill a fuckin’ fetus, then good.” Blitzo said, and Stolas paused at that, clearly considering at least a little. “It’s after somebody a fuckton older than her, and it’ll give the kid a solid tie to somebody in the family line. Were they from your side of things?”

“I would have to double-check, but I believe so- when you go back far enough, most Goetia have a few common ancestors, the same as most Hellborn, but it shouldn’t be hard to verify.” His eyes traced the white mask on her face. “I suppose it does fit, in a way.”

Blitzo lifted the baby from her spot on the desk. “What about you, squirt? What do you think of Stellaluna?”

She made a buzzing noise with her tongue and clapped her hands together, and Blitzo peppered her chubby cheeks with kisses.

That sounded like an answer to him.

[hazbincalifornia]

Ghostfuckers: Surprise

Another entry in the 'episodes but blitzpreg' fic collection!

Summary: Blitz buries his sorrows- and something else- in junk food.

Ao3 link

He was fine. He was fine! He was peachy-fucking-keen, he was Coping with a capital C, he hadn’t snuck back into the palace and yanked all the fancy silk curtains out of the rods or pissed all over them, so really, he was the picture of restraint.

The ice cream helped. Gallons of it, some of it half-melted so it had to be chugged by the time he actually got to it since sometimes he had multiple containers at once, but it helped soothe his heart and his stomach, and he’d count soothing anything as a victory, especially as heartbreak apparently came with a sore back and occasional upchucking when he let his brain marinate on feathers too much. 

(Fuck, he still saw that cockbag with the douchey haircut when he closed his eyes too long, so he cranked up the volume on the tv.)

Granted, the ice cream wasn’t exactly helping his waistline, but it wasn’t like he needed abs right now, considering there wasn’t an owl anywhere in the vicinity to ogle over them. Who cared if his pants were a little tight for a few hours days weeks, he needed the sugar and the spice and the sweetness, even if that creamy goodness wasn’t the same as the sticky white-

(Blitz reached for the spray cheese instead and funneled it directly into his mouth, the tangy chemicals mixing with the distilled peppers that were blended in with the cream. It satisfied something deep in his gut, and that was good. He’d take it, even though sometimes the mixing of flavors and emotions knotted things up and forced them right back up again.)

He found himself rutting against the underside of the carton, hormones oozing restlessly throughout his bloodstream as Millie stepped around the chain. As he flicked away the empty container and reached for some chocolate instead, he heard ‘ghost’ and something in his brain went ping.

(The rest of the day did not go as well as his brain had wanted it to, belly aching from the excessive movement after weeks of barely hauling his ass off the blankets and pillows to piss and the Bethany costume not fitting quite right. Even giving some grace with his food baby, the pricks must have undersized it.)

_____

He squirmed in the seat, feeling newly-materialized fingers trail along the bump in his middle that had for some reason decided to hitch along for the ride. When the chains tightened, something in him squirmed like a trapped rat even before the highlight reel of every insecurity he had was pinned down and flayed open.

The fire, Dad, Fizz, Verosika, M+M, Stolas, Stolas, Stolas-

“Oh, this is delicious,” the parasite purred, slipping around the spikes on Blitz’s chair to plant a foot on his bloated middle. “You don’t even know, do you?”

“Know wha…” The tears poured hot and thick, but he attempted to blink them away as the screen fluttered, the images flashing through at a rapid pace. Some were the same- Loona in LA, Barbie at the human camp, Stolas offering up the Crystal like it was a fucking ring- but some were different. Burning Chaz’s rental jacket when he got home because of how vile it had smelled, barfing into one of the empty ice cream cartons, curling up in the blankets and pillows, a strip of white and red skin exposed from the bottom of his too-tight shirt-

No.

No.

“Yes, yes,” The infestor practically sang as his heel traced down to the side of his stomach, and the bile in Blitz’s stomach bubbled into acid as he realized just how firm that little bump actually was. “Surprise, Daddy. Who could have thought you’d manage to ruin someone’s life before they even hit the starting gate?”

“You- I-”

“I didn’t do shit. I just got here! This mess was all on you.” His toe of his shoe hooked the bottom of Blitz’s shirt and tugged it upwards, exposing the bump as a pulsing heartbeat pounded the walls of the theater, and Blitz found himself unable to look away as the screen flashed faster and faster. A lifetime of regrets, broken chances, fuckups, fuckups, fuckups-

“Blitz? Blitz!” The screen shuddered before cutting to Millie, and he tugged at the chains but couldn’t pull far enough to escape his own head.

Insults spat from his mouth while his body writhed around like a fish on a hook, shit he’d never say to her but she just might believe because he’s such a piece of shit, and every time he tried to pull back to reality he could feel the exposed skin of his stomach growing damp from the clammy brain-room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, how didn’t he notice, what would he do, he had no time to fucking think-

He felt his arms ache as she manhandled them, and oh, Millie, that beautiful, wonderful bitch, she wasn’t falling for it. Thank Satan, she was smarter than-

Oh fuck.

She slammed him into the wall and oh fuck no, no, no no no, they couldn’t go like this, not when he hadn’t even gotten the chance to-

A glow flashed on the screen as the infestor rubbed at his sore cheek with a snarl, and Blitz’s stolen eyes dropped down to see Millie’s fist hit air, magic blooming around his middle. Her eyes widened for a moment before flicking up and socking him in the chest again, and the crunch that echoed combined with a pained moan was the sweetest sound he’d heard all day.

_______

“…So how long have you known about the baby?” Millie’s voice was careful as she shifted on the van’s roof.

“About twenty seconds before you did,” Blitz said. “Figured it was just…y’know…”

“Eating your emotions?”

“Yeah. That.”

“I’m glad I didn’t hurt it, at least. Thank fuck for that magic thingamajiggy that popped up.” She reached over and intertwined her fingers with hers, giving a quick squeeze. “You know what you wanna do with it?”

“I found out I was pregnant when he was Clockwork Oranging me, I need to think on it for a few minutes first,” Blitz said, tail twisting against the metal.

There was quiet for a moment as wind whispered through the gravestones. 

“It’s his, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I told the shark he had to go in wrapped from my stash or I wasn’t playing. Besides, I doubt anybody else would have some kinda built-in magic shield to keep them from getting pummeled.” Her hand was nice. Warm and comfortable, but rough enough from a life of work that it didn’t feel like his scars were too much, didn’t feel like he was going to scrape her skin off with the contact as their palms brushed together. “Maybe birds just… take a while to show.”

“Maybe.” Her tail curled around his, lightly pinning it down from where it was anxiously twitching. Steady weight.

Tomorrow, he’d have to figure out where the fuck to go from here. Tomorrow, he’d have to figure out if he wanted to keep the nest in his office. Tomorrow, he’d decide on the future.

Today, he leaned into Millie and watched the sunrise.

[hazbincalifornia]

Daddy Blitz wants his not-so-little foal out already so he can dress her up!

[hazbincalifornia]

Stellaluna made Daddy some cocoa, and she even put an extra marshmallow in for her lil brother!

[hazbincalifornia]

I got a commission of Stellaluna from cizdude (twitter post with the art from her here) and behold her stabby glory

[hazbincalifornia]

Fatherhood

Chapter 64: Blitzo and Stolas take a moment to talk before the ceremony begins.

Ao3 link

“You know, I’m pretty sure you could have just snapped me clean out there,” Blitzo commented as Stolas summoned a towel once they pulled apart. He watched it fly in from the bathroom and drop down on the couch before he was set on top of it.

“I could have, but then I couldn’t have had a moment of peace with you without everyone watching,” Stolas said, his tone shifted just enough that Blitzo knew it was leaning on the ‘concerned parent’ side of the spectrum as the owl brushed a hand over his still-slightly-darkened cheeks to try and wipe the color away. “Blitz-”

“Look, I know, but you had that spell around my guts! She was fine, she probably liked the exercise anyway, it’s been so fucking boring at work without being able to go out in the field, okay?”

“Babies are delicate!” Stolas waved a hand over his royal clothes, vanishing the mud with one clean sweep as Blitzo felt the splatters on himself starting to harden. “I know that you can handle yourself, but she cannot. She’ll likely barely be able to keep her head up when she’s born, and that’s hardly any condition to go rolling around in mud puddles with handsome cowboys.” He paused. “Not until she’s much older, anyway.”

“She’s gonna be a sturdy bitch, she’s mine,” Blitzo grumbled as he felt her nudge what might have been a hand against the inside of his skin and poked at it back. “See, she’s agreeing with me.”

“Be that as it may, if she inherits your stubborn streak, it’s going to be a very interesting few years,” Stolas said, folding himself down on the couch next to Blitzo. Even through the words, Blitzo could hear a pinch of fondness mixed with the frustration. “As dashingly rugged as you look, her safety needs to come first. Babies require a lot of work.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Blitzo pulled his legs up with a groan, although his belly got too in the way for said legs to get up very far. “I know.”

“Do you?” Stolas tilted his head. “Loona wasn’t a baby.”

“I know that too, you had that heart-to-heart with her, remember?” (The one where she’d said he sucked. His stomach gurgled, and he brushed it aside.) “Babies are useless the first bit, sure, but I’ll manage. She’ll be worth it.”

“How would you feel if something happened to her and you could have stopped it?”

“Well, I’d-” The sentence died in Blitzo's mouth and tasted like hot ash.

Stolas sighed. He vanished the mud from Blitzo’s clothes with another wave of his fingers as he leaned closer, and his other hand rested on Blitzo’s knee. “I don’t mean to push, but neither of us want that. Please be careful… for both of your sakes. I can’t stand to think of either of you hurt, not when we’re so close. Your safety matters to me, dear, and you’re not at your usual strength anymore with her practically ready to burst out and say hello.” Blitzo’s chin sunk into his knees, and Stolas pulled the blanket up around him. “I know you’ll do your best.”

“Mhm.” The high of managing to pin Striker was quickly churning into anxiety, mixing with those fucking hormones and the ache in his gut he’d had all afternoon. The unspoken ‘but what if that’s not good enough?’ hung in the air like a thousand poisoned daggers as his claws dug into the leather of his pants and his stomach cramped, twisting in a vise on itself.

“Fatherhood is… difficult,” Stolas said slowly, and Blitzo snorted.

“Understatement of the fucking millennium.”

Stolas gave a little chuckle. “I won’t deny that. It’s been both the most difficult and most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. If I know one thing, though, it’s that you have to try. Stella never did. She had Via and figured that was all she needed to do, and it was up to me to keep Via from realizing how little her mother ever cared.” He paused, eyes softening a little. “No matter what, I know that you’ll love them, the way you care for your Loona.” He ran his fingers over Blitzo’s shirt, straightening out a crease.“You’ll be a good father.”

You ruin everything you touch, why would this be any different?

“Yeah. Yeah, I will. I kick ass.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself at least half as much as he was thinking it. Stolas’s expression had too many emotions to root out and shifted up to squeeze Blitzo’s shoulder, settling to something that might have been determination with a slight curled hook to the beak.

“Just don’t throw her in the middle of any more wrestling matches,” Stolas said. “I’ll help you as much as possible until you start to feel more comfortable and we can ask Aamon if he can offer assistance as well. You’ll learn as you go. I had to do it all on my own the first time, and you’ll have me.” He gave a soft, lopsided smile. “I want this to go well as much as you do, darling… and maybe, someday, we might…” He trailed off, and Blitzo cleared his throat.

“Could you… fuck, this is dumb.”

“What?”

“If she- if she gets hurt, once she’s crawling around. Could you fix her?”

“Blitz!” Stolas’s feathers fluffed up as he stared down at Blitzo, who waved a twitchy hand, leg bouncing.

“Look, I don’t want her hurt either, okay? She’s still attached to me right now, and I just- fuck, what if-”

“If you keep your head properly on your shoulders and be the clever imp that you are, she’ll be fine." Stolas gripped both sides of Blitzo’s face, squishing in the cheeks slightly and turning it upwards to meet his eyes.”I was half your age when I had Via and she’s survived this long, you’ll manage with her until she can start crawling around on her own if you just take a breath and try to not drop her off the edge of a building. We can go through the apartment and add padding to make things safer, but she won’t really be moving for a while anyway.” Stolas’s palms eased off the skin. “I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I didn’t think you could handle it, you just need to think and allow me to help.”

“There’s a lot of shit you don’t know about me.” Still, Blitzo chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, the flash of pain grounding. “Fine. We’ll just hope she doesn’t stick a fork in the wall socket and go from there. I’m going to be careful and not run over her or some shit. We’ll be fine.”

“That’s the spirit!” Stolas kissed his forehead. “And you won’t do it again?”

“I’m not going to have the chance, if she’ll be rolling out of my pussy in a couple of days. Once she’s out, she’s getting treated with extra care like the glass ponies on the high shelf.” He sucked in a breath and let it out, the coil in his chest loosening a little. Quiet hung in the air for a few moments, and he could hear the echo of chatter from outside. “...Thanks.”

“Wonderful.” Stolas nodded, seemingly mostly to himself as he straightened up, but Blitzo could see the way his fingers drummed against his leg, the edge of nerves jittering through him. “Now then, I do have to prepare for the ceremony in a few minutes. Is there anything you need before then?”

Blitzo pulled up a smirk. “Think you could snap me up some snazzy new duds?” He waved at himself. “I kinda got the fancy shirt torn up, and I don’t know how well Mill’s folks would take to seeing flashes of my tits without asking first.”

“Hmm.” Stolas thought for a moment before snapping his fingers. Blitzo’s shirt changed with a flash of glitter, pale flowers blooming on the pattern as the fabric changed from white to red with buttons down the center. At that, Blitzo raised an eyebrow, but it came with a fond smile as he plucked a bit of the fabric up with a pinch.

“I’m not sure this exactly fits the honky-tonk vibe down here.”

“What? It’s a good look on you! Very fatherly energy.” Stolas’s cheek puffed out as he half-pouted, snapping his fingers again as the red bled away to a warm brown, the sparkle trailing down to his pants, which-

Blitzo couldn’t help a little grin as the leather of his pants shifted, the soft flesh of his ass spilling out on the couch. “Oh, you bitch.”

Stolas grinned back. “At least show it off before I change you back, love.”

The word still made his spines twitch as his stomach hummed with warmth, and with honey-thick affection boiling in his guts, he obliged. He slid off the couch and spun around on his boots to show off the cowboy ensemble that was complete with assless chaps, emphasis on the ass. The leg material cut off partway up, leaving his magic-and-baby plumped cheeks free. He gave himself a slap, hearing the noise echo. “I think I remember wearing something like this during body shots at a party once.”

“Oh?” Stolas tilted his head. “We’ll certainly have to recreate that sometime.”

“Oh fuck yeah, you’ve got the best tongue this side of the Hive,” Blitzo muttered half-under his breath, but Stolas’s feathers puffed up anyway. Score one for bird hearing. “C’mon, feathers, you know full well what you do to Daddy.”

“I need to work, dear-"

“Don’t you dare ‘dear’ me, you started it!” He prodded a finger at Stolas’s chest, and the sparkles shimmered over him one last time before returning him to his original outfit, albeit with the tears patched up. Stolas stood and stretched, smiling wider as he cupped Blitzo’s cheek before his voice dipped low.

“As soon as the ceremony is over, I’ll show you exactly what I’m dying to do to Daddy, darling.”

Blitzo opened his mouth to make a smart comment, but Stolas had swept out the door with the summoned Grimoire, the book floating in the air with a few stray sparkles trailing behind them by the time his brain re-activated.

Showtime.

[hazbincalifornia]

world scary and cold..... papa comforting and warm

[hazbincalifornia]

Baby Stellaluna preparing to enter the world like

(This is also her eighteen years later but for very different reasons)

[hazbincalifornia]

Showtime

Chapter 65: The other shoe drops.

Ao3 link

Blitzo made his way to the door to see that Stolas had left a portal behind him, open to the back of the crowd and tucked between buildings so he wouldn’t pop out like a well-bred show pony. That was nice of him- especially considering right now Blitzo mostly just wanted to curl up and watch the show from somewhere more comfortable than the middle of the sweaty, pushy crowd where half a dozen hicks would be gawking at the waddling wonder. He grabbed his holster just in case- with how pumped up these chucklefucks were, somebody going a little hog-wild and it fucking with the baby wasn’t out of the question. Baby deserved to watch the show in peace too.

Glancing back, the Rough ‘N Tumbleweed wasn’t far- he could plop his ass down on M+M’s bed and still get a good view. Bingo. It would probably mean taking a few stairs, but getting to sit on something actually comfortable promised to be worth it. He could already see that Stolas was rifling through the book and murmuring something to himself- practicing, probably. Dork. The sides of his lips twitched as he headed for the front door- thankfully, they’d left it unlocked since they probably weren’t planning to be out for long. Anybody who knew who lived there wouldn’t dare try to pull shit anyway.

Blitzo had only taken a few steps inside when he heard a creak from the ceiling above him.

That was… weird. Wouldn’t everybody be out watching the show? He was pretty sure he’d caught sight of Sallie May as well as Millie’s parents, so that would just leave M+M, and he couldn’t imagine Millie wouldn’t have dragged Moxxie out to the front row. His tail twitched as he strained to listen, but after the creak, there was silence, silence-

A window opening.

Maybe they just wanted a higher angled view, same as him? The dread starting to boil in his gut wasn’t so sure. He grabbed the banister and gritted his teeth, then dragged himself up, up, up.

Whether the heart was wearing off or his currently baby-laden gut didn’t want to play ball was anyone’s guess, but he could feel sweat dripping down the back of his neck by the time he reached the top. One door was open, with the murmured voices of the crowd drifting through the open window...

…And Striker was there, positioning a rifle that glowed a haunting, sterile pearl.

The room had the faintest trace of Loona’s fur that mixed with the open air, a thin comfort when it was smothered in dusty leather and the stink of a holy weapon. Striker’s tail rattled and a grin stretched so far across his face Blitzo could see it from the back as he chuckled to himself, clearly pleased as he tested the sight.

There could only be one target, and Blitzo pulled his own gun, cocking it with a soft ‘click’.

Striker reacted on instinct at the sound, whirling around and chucking a knife at Blitzo that bounced off his glowing gut like a toothpick.

Blitzo couldn’t help a grin as the blade clattered to the ground, fingers tightening around the familiar weight in his hands. “Ha! Nice try, dipshit, but this baby’s sticking with Daddy.”

“Well well, surprised me there,” Striker admitted, raising an eyebrow and setting the rifle aside with a twitch to his lip. “I thought you’d be down with the crowd, watching your fancy blueblood show off his fancy-ass sparkles.”

“Er-”

“It’s just sad, really,” he added, rummaging around in his belt. “You’ve got potential, and you’re content just being that bastard’s little bitch-pet, rolling over for scraps.”

“I’m nobody’s fucking pet,” Blitzo growled. “I agreed to this, and he’s been getting better-”

“But for how long?” Striker drew a knife engraved with glowing runes from its holster, tail snapping with a rattle and nose wrinkling. “I saw you, after our little wrestling match. I can solve all of this for you- you’re the size of a prize hog, it must be raring to come out.”

“And she’s gonna be coming out Daddy’s big boy hole the normal way. She’s mine," Blitzo hissed, raising the barrel.

Striker’s mouth tightened, eyes narrowing. “Pathetic.” He lunged with lightning speed, slamming Blitzo by the neck into the floor hard enough to crack the wood under his spikes. It nearly drew a howl out, the back of the blade pressed against his skin and stinging with purity. Before he could blink, Striker grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head, claws digging into the wrists hard enough to ooze black.

“Fuck!” Blitzo tried to kick up, but between the baby belly and the knees on his thighs, he couldn’t get any leverage as Striker’s fingers left his neck, raising the glowing knife above his stomach. He desperately squirmed for freedom before Striker’s blade dropped like a corpse on his skin and drove lightning veins of pain through it.

Wait.

He’d touched it. Craning his neck, Blitzo could see that the protective spell was weeping, bleeding its glow away from where Striker had punctured through it- the power of the holy steel like acid. It had slowed the blade from piercing all the way through his guts at the first swing, but now…

“How in the fuck-”

“I was supposed to get rid of the baby and the daddy, y'know.” Striker said, idly tracing more white-hot agony over Blitzo that tightened every muscle in his body. “No loose ends. This was in case I didn’t want to just shoot you in the head and rip it out through your ribcage. Ain’t that nice?

“Get off of me,” Blitzo wheezed out, lungs curdling as Striker drew something circular over the white markings, scars on scars as liquid lava moved through his nerves and bled down into flesh hotter than any hellfire.

“That’d be counterproductive, boss, now wouldn’t it?” He pressed the knife down further, thick blood practically boiling into steam as it bubbled up. Blitzo went cross-eyed, claws digging into the wood. He could only focus on the hypnotic swirl of Striker’s eyes as the knife drew a horizontal line across the skin, just barely breaking it as it drew out twitches and squirms. He could feel the frantic fuzz that indicated his muscles weren't completely his own anymore- nerves yanked from the inside but unable to wrench free even as they tried to fight in unison. A bug pinned on the sidewalk.

(As he squirmed against the wood, though, he realized Striker forgot one thing as the overconfident rattle sounded off again like the toy it unintentionally echoed.)

“My employer didn’t rightly say what she wanted done with the little bastard, but a half-imp, half-Goetia? I’m doing you both a favor.”

The pain coalesced as Blitzo’s tail wound around Striker’s waist, throwing him against the bed with a crack as he shoved himself up on shaky hands. Blood dripped from his middle as the protective spell flickered in and out, and each beat of his heart drew flutters of agony from the scratches of the blessed blade while the remnants of the barrier dissolved like cotton candy in water.

Striker snarled just as something broke inside of Blitzo, fluid soaking his pants as his eyes widened.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Blitzo snagged the rifle with his tail and swiped it to the side in a snap, knocking Striker off the feet he’d just managed to get back on. He didn’t take time to see Striker’s expression as he bolted for the door, hearing a sharp “Hey!” that gave him half a second’s head-start, even as his legs were starting to buckle.

The house was decently big, but not that big, not nearly enough to hide properly when he was dripping whatever-the-fuck baby fluid that was oozing down the inside of his pants with a snake on his heels. Already, he could feel the baby twisting somersaults from the heavenly infection. He whipped his head around, sliding down the banister and throwing himself into the nearest closet when he heard the floor creak again. Fuck, he couldn’t be an open target and get taken down so Striker could get the rifle back so easily. His legs were about to collapse, he couldn’t risk M+M and Loona, couldn’t risk Stolas, his meat-brain was starting to bubble in his head and he couldn’t think-

The hum of angelic steel from the rifle made his skull ache as he fumbled for his phone, desperately swiping for the IMP group chat.

IM IN MILS HOS BBYU CMIONG STRKIR BDA

BAD

TYRIG TY KLIL ME

A bubble popped up from Moxxie for a moment before disappearing as Blitzo heard a groan from the stairs, along with a whistle and the unmistakable sound of a knife dragging down wood.

Bastard was fucking toying with him.

(And Millie’s parents were probably going to be so pissed about the banister, if they weren’t for all the baby-water that made it out of his pants.)

“Here Blitzy, Blitzy, Blitzy.” There was a lilting in his voice, but Blitzo could hear the simmering fury below it- whether it was for getting knocked up with a bird’s baby or stealing his gun or knocking Mr. High And Mighty on his ass while he was in fucking labor, he couldn’t hazard a guess, at least not through the ringing in his head and the way his entire body felt swollen to burst. (Probably all three though.) Sweat dripped from his cheek down to his chest, and he realized at some point in the scuffle the top buttons had popped off. Bare skin, hot to the touch. “I’ll make it quick, the lady wanted a show of seeing birdie’s brains splattered all over the stage while the sky was open.”

Lady.

Lady who wanted Stolas dead.

Oh, that bitch.

Blitz gripped the rifle tighter as his free hand tried to feel around for anything that could be considered a close-combat weapon. Wouldn’t a bunch of Wrath imps have some sort of bludgeoning instrument in closets like this? At least some extra knives, anything-

There was a rattle mixed with a hiss and the crack of a whip as Striker clicked his tongue, each step growing closer to the closet.

Closer.

Closer.

His heartbeat rushed like Envian waves, thick and heavy, and he had to bite back a groan as a contraction hit. The glowing white traced over his middle flared, and his lip drooled blood as teeth pierced the soft flesh.

The footsteps paused.

“Gotchya.”

Blitzo braced himself, fingers tightening around the rifle as the closet door creaked open for an agonizing half-second before being flung the rest of the way, the light briefly blinding even after a mere minute in the dark.

Striker’s smirk spread like blood on tile, and Blitzo glared and prepared to grapple as he was grabbed by the shirt, the cowboy hauling him out and about to gut him like a fish-

-Before he got squirted with a face of warm milk when his knuckles hit just the right spot, creamy white splattering over his cheeks and eyes.

Striker stared in shock for a moment as it dripped down, tracing the contours of his face and over his nose before splattering on his shirt. He snarled, tossing Blitzo aside and scrubbing furiously at his face as the pregnant imp slammed into the floor hard enough that the walls shook. “You disgusting-”

The absurdity of it was too much- Blitzo snorted out a laugh as he struggled to push himself to his feet, using the rifle as support. “Oh, you don’t like Daddy’s milkies, big boy?”

“That’s it!” Striker spat out whatever droplets landed in his mouth, eyes narrowing as he whipped the knife out with pure hellfire in his eyes. “You think this is funny? Then you’re going in the same fucking shallow grave as the blueblo-”

His sentence was cut viciously short when he crumpled like a split boulder after Millie slammed into his head with the flat of an axe.

Blitz stared as she panted between her teeth, and black started seeping from Striker’s skull while Loona and Moxxie peered from behind her.

The room spun, but reality didn't shift, and he could hear four sets of frantic breath.

“...Mills, I could kiss you. With tongue.”

“You’ll have to fight Moxxie first.” She offered a hand to him to help him stand properly, but his legs still didn’t seem to be cooperating so he was forced to lean against Loona, who had moved forward.

“Please don’t, sir,” Moxxie said rather lamely with absolutely no bite to it, a quiver underlying the words. Blitzo would have honed in with some sort of come-on, except he’d been through too much in the past fifteen minutes to feel like bothering as the stench of blood started to mix with sweat and whatever fluids were currently dripping from between his legs. “I’ll- go get his highness,” Moxxie added, voice a little shaky. “We can get you to the hospital, and-”

“Less yapping, more prince-grabbing,” Blitzo ground out through gritted teeth as he nearly collapsed again, and Moxxie scrambled for the door as Loona scooped him up in her arms.

“Good call, sweetie!” Millie called as she flipped Striker over and rummaged around inside the couch cushions for a rope to tie him up with. (He didn't seem to be breathing from what Blitzo could see, but they weren't about to take any chances.)

Blitzo could feel Loona’s arms trembling beneath him, and he would protest that she didn’t need to carry him, that he had handled himself exceptionally well, except for the fact that another contraction rode through his body and lit up every nerve inside of it, and he curled in on himself as the angelic scratches pulsed again.

Fuck.

[hazbincalifornia]

Stolas loves his little round man! Daddy x Daddy rights.

[hazbincalifornia]

Helluvabutt drew art of the latest OT chapter! (Bonus in reply)

[hazbincalifornia]

I got a commission of Aster and Stellaluna (my Stolitz kids) from @starlightseq!