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stories-and-chaos · 11 months ago

Text

Tarnished

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved. Concept inspired by this AU, Push. Trying to stick with established lore but taking some liberties to make the drama work. Multiple headcanons from various sources I’ve come across included as suits the story. Starts roughly five years before Murder Family, I’m making assumptions about the timeline]

[18+ rating for language, implied sexual content, violence, alcohol consumption and general Hellaverse-ness]

[Part 1/?? Word count: 3761]

———————

Moxxie’s back slammed into the rough wooden bed frame as he heard the distinctive clang of prison bars rattling shut. He still couldn’t believe Chaz had just left him there. Grabbed the goods and ran. The imp realized his boyfriend was just as shitty out of bed as he was in it. He started tearing up as he climbed on the bottom bunk. Moxxie knew his dad wouldn’t bail him out or anything. He might have been the boss’s only (legitimate) son but he was also the most junior member of the family. And Crimson was not a sentimental imp.

Moxxie had been caught red clawed too, pinned by the security gate. No need for any formalities like a trial in the Greed Ring. A mugshot, strip down, and forced into a jumpsuit before the cops tossed him in a cell. Of course, Greed’s police force was basically a mafia on a wider scale.

“Soooo, what’re you in for?” A voice drawled from the top bunk. Moxxie hadn’t realized he had a cellmate. Oh crumbs, had the other demon heard him crying?! If there was a way to ensure you didn’t get out of prison in one piece, it was letting others know how weak you were the moment you were locked up. His tail reflexively whipped closer, as if trying to hide himself.

“Okay, not much of a talker, are you?” The voice almost sounded jovial. In prison? A squeak of the mattress and the other prisoner launched himself to the floor with theatrical flair. Before he could do more than sit up and blink the tall imp gripped his hand to shake. Not the vice-like grip his father used, hard enough to make claw shaped indents into the other’s hand. It was a firm, friendly shake.

“I'm Blitzø, the "o" is silent. I'm sure we're going to get along just fine. So, what's your deal? What'd you do? Who'd you diddle? You look like someone good with a gun. You look like someone who could shoot up an office-“ Moxxie tried to interject, but the other imp plowed on.

“-and I hope you are 'cuz I got a plan to get us out of this dump but I'm going to need some help, you think you can give me a hand? I need to get out to my daughter. The babysitter will kill me if I don't get back soon. Also I got some business scheduled in Pride that I gotta get back for. Do you like kids? 'Cause lemme tell 'ya. They're a-fucking-dorable.” Moxxie felt his eyes warming up with more tears but his lips were forming a shaky smile. He realized he hadn’t smiled like this since… well he could barely remember. At first he thought since Chaz ditched him, but really it was since his mom “disappeared.”

It took a couple of days for the cellmates to enact Blitzø’s plan. Moxxie had to learn the complex’s layout and they had to make sure they could get to a weapon cache. Their escape was successful, both of them got banged up, and Moxxie’s body count tripled as a result of the escapade.

A few things they learned about each other: Blitzø’s circus background made him extremely agile and prone to acrobatic feats in a fight. He was batshit crazy once the ichor started flowing but he kept his eye out on his partner. The scarred imp backed up Moxxie more than once when he floundered while they fled for the Pride Ring. His plans were grandiose but he was quick to adapt and quicker to protect his cohort.

On the other claw, Moxxie was even better with firearms than Blitzø thought. So long as the kid kept his composure, he didn’t miss a shot. It was almost magickal and he saw more magick than most of their kind. The kid seemed quiet and well mannered for the most part. He could get absolutely fucking feral in a fight, becoming an even better shot if that was possible. But he was insecure and desperate for approval. The pure shock on his face when Blitzø told him “nice work Mox,” after they got out told the older imp that he’d probably never been praised in his life.

One bonus to no trial before you were thrown in prison? No one was too keen on dragging you back if you got out. Especially if you massacred 80% of the guards on your way out, traumatized 18%, and awakened some very interesting feelings in the final 2%. It wasn’t worth spending hard grifted money chasing down someone who would just do the same thing even if you managed to catch them. If they’d run off from Mammon, the escaping prisoners would be hunted down. But otherwise, even the police mafia didn’t give that much of a shit.

The duo had snagged a couple of overcoats so their bright orange jumpsuits would stand out less. The plan was to get to Blitzø’s apartment, check up on his kid, grab some cash to rent Moxxie a room for the night and change before Blitzø had to be at his appointment.

Except once they got to the Pride Ring, Blitzø started freaking the fuck out. “Shitshitshitshitshiiiiiiitfuckingdammit.” A stream of profanities just kept coming out of his mouth as Blitzø picked up his pace.

“Um, sir?” It was drilled into Moxxie to address superiors as sir or ma’am; Blitzø had taken charge during their escape and didn’t seem to mind being called sir. “What happened, you started panicking once we got here.” This was presumably the older imp’s home turf, yet he was more off balance than at any other point in the past three days.

“FUUUUUUUCKokay Mox, change of plans.” He spun around and grasped the shorter imp by the shoulders. “I lost track of the time and I can’t miss this appointment. Do you know anyone in this ring that can put you up for the night?” Blitzø doubted it. It seemed like the kid had stayed in Greed up until now. A quick head shake confirmed that. “You got two choices, cause I don’t have time to get you someplace first. You can head off alone and we’ll meet up tomorrow or you can come with me, play along, and hope it’s not worse than prison.”

Moxxie was taken aback; first off that was the most words in a row without swears he’d heard from Blitzø. Second, “Where are you going that’s worse than prison?”

“A Goetian estate.”

Moxxie’s jaw dropped. He might as well have said he was meeting up with Lucifer. Yet… Blitzø had an appointment to be there. And it was important enough that he couldn’t even check on his kid first. Not to mention, wandering around an unfamiliar area wearing a prison jumpsuit was next to suicidal. “I’ll stick with you sir.”

“Ballsy! I knew I fucking liked you Moxxie.” He whirled around and started loping toward the fancy ass side of the city. “Keep up Mox! We gotta go!”

It took about half an hour of running and weaving through crowds but they made it before…whatever time Blitzø was so intent on outrunning. He had started running even faster about halfway, his desperation more than apparent. Once he passed through the gates, all the tension left his body. He slumped to the ground; Moxxie hesitated as he gaped at the ornate fencing. The gate and elegant fence had the symbol of the Goetia family (a crowned heart) emblazoned every few yards.

Moxxie had grown up a privileged life, especially for an imp. Servants, tutors, a well stocked manor. But the building in front of him was on another level. It was more of a palace than anything; multistoried with heraldic banners hanging, multiple manicured gardens, statues strategically placed and the master’s sigil glowing prominently on the wall. And that was just what he could glimpse in the full moon’s light. This was the difference between money and royalty.

“Last chance Moxxie. C’mon in or head off somewhere and I’ll meet you at my office at noon tomorrow. If you’re still standing around here in a few, those fuckers will drag you with me anyway.” He gulped and stepped onto the grounds next to the other imp. “Still ballsy.” Blitzø’s grin was back.

“Here’s what’s going to go down. Any minute now some beefy hellhound fucks are gonna show up to haul me in. They might grab you, might let you walk. Either way, keep your mouth shut and just back me up if I ask. Hopefully we won’t see that overdressed bitch tonight but if she’s around don’t make eye contact. And-“ whatever he was about to add was cut off as four hellhounds jogged up.

Blitzø wasn’t kidding about them being beefy. They were all different breeds but they all had biceps as big as his head, wrapped in artfully ripped suits. The matching suits, earpieces, sunglasses, and crisp posture gave them an air of professionalism that was a sharp contrast to his dad’s goons.

“Oh look, it’s the Chucklefuck squad and the Douchenugget duo. Who’d you piss off to land the night shift?” Blitzø taunted the Hounds, seemingly indifferent to the fact any one of them could snap him in half. Two of them grabbed Blitzø by the arms, grinning sadistically at the thought of manhandling the smaller demons.

“Lady Stella specifically requested we escort you in, Blitzø.” Blitzø winced “Satan fucking dammit.” Apparently Lady Stella was the overdressed bitch he’d mentioned. “She’s got a party tonight so she doesn’t have to hear your scrawny ass getting pounded. But she knew how much you’d like friends to bring you home.” The Hellhound punctuated his words with a sharp snap of his teeth.

Home? Moxxie backpedaled in confusion, only to bump into the leg of another security Hound. Said Hound grabbed him around the torso, easily pinning both arms and leaving Moxxie’s hooves dangling far from the ground. He struggled, trying to at least get back to the ground. The size difference and Moxxie’s lack of weapons meant he didn’t stand much chance at the moment. The pair with Blitzø took the lead, not caring that his dragging hooves were tearing furrows into the lawns or creating sparks on the paths.

Blitzø let them, worn out from the prison break and subsequent dash back to Pride. He was too tired to try to keep pace with his “escorts.” He kept glancing back to Moxxie, trying to reassure him. The younger imp was clearly terrified. He couldn’t really help the kid at the moment; the bulldog faced Hellhound carrying him lifted his lip whenever Blitzø looked back.

Fuck this fucking farce and fuck Paimon with a rusty crucifix for doing this, Blitzø thought to himself for the ten thousandth time in his life. Best to go through the motions as quickly as possible. The group arrived at one of the drawing rooms and Blitzø was dumped unceremoniously on the thick carpet.

The whirlwind trip through the estate proved to Moxxie that royalty had a whole different definition of luxury from what he knew. Paintings, mosaics, sculptures, exotic plants were just the beginning as they rushed through hallways wider than his bedroom at his dad’s. He’d lost count of how many doors they passed before they reached one in particular.

Blitzø was thrown to the ground but the one holding Moxxie didn’t loosen his grip. Blitzø glared back at the Hellhounds, hissing. The Hounds responded with low growls. Everyone went silent when a lithe figure snapped the cover of a book shut and unfolded itself from a lounge by the fireplace. This had to be one of the Goetia, presumably the master of this estate.

His extreme height was the first thing Moxxie noticed. Moxxie was about average for an imp in height; the glimpses he’d seen of imp servants in this maze were all much smaller. Blitzø was on the taller end of the spectrum but the Hounds were easily double his height. This royal demon towered over them all. You could stack Moxxie, Blitzø, and even one of the small servants on a Hellhound’s shoulders and they still would barely be eye level with the demon’s glowing eyes.

At least the bottom set. He had two sets, a large bottom pair and a thinner set above that could have been mistaken for elegant eyebrows if they hadn’t been glowing red. Glowing eyes weren't unusual for hellborn, but the deep red pupil-less aura was still intimidating. The white facial disc only enhanced that aura with its contrast.

What could be seen of the demon’s form was covered in smooth grey feathers, sheening in the firelight. The plush robe he wore was lightly cinched at the waist and barely clung to the shoulders, showing the feathers covered the majority of his body. He stalked deliberately to where Blitzø was climbing to his hooves, features set in a stern expression.

“St- Master Stolas,” Blitzø stuttered as the avian demon loomed above him. Master?! Oh crumbs, what in Satan’s name is going on?! Was all that talk about a daughter, starting up a business, growing up in the circus, everything just a lie? “I got back as quick as I could, I didn’t even have a chance to check on Loonie first…” Stolas cut him off with a gesture. Apparently the daughter talk wasn’t a lie at least.

Stolas glanced at the Hound carrying Moxxie. “Put the little one down,” he ordered in clipped, cultured tones. “I’ll deal with them from here.” The Hounds exchanged glances and grins. Suddenly Moxxie was on the ground when his captor opened his arms. “As you wish, Prince Stolas.” The imp was getting serious mood whiplash. Stolas wasn’t just a member of the Goetia but one of the princes. Maybe Blitzø was right; this was worse than prison.

The guards hadn’t left the room before Stolas leaned over Blitzø, foreheads nearly touching. “What the FUCK were you doing in the Greed Ring that landed in you prison!” The Hellhounds grins grew wider as they shut the doors and Moxxie was sure he heard the slap of a high five. “Are you not being careful enough in the other Rings? You know if you get in trouble I have to get you out of it. And we don’t want that, do we my itty bitty imp?” Stolas punctuated his words with taps between Blitzø’s nostrils. His words were furious but Moxxie could see his expression softening once the doors clicked shut. He had plenty of experience being berated and threatened by Crimson, but he was getting so many mixed signals he didn’t know what to do.

“A job went bad, Master. It won’t happen again.” Despite just having a royal yell at him, Blitzø’s smirk was back. Without guards around he was able to give his companion a double thumbs up while replying. His voice sounded utterly defeated but his posture had perked up.

“Luckily for you, what passes for authority in the Greed Ring isn’t likely to give a shit about a couple of escapee imps. Speaking of which,” four dazzling red eyes locked onto Moxxie. “Who is this that you’ve dragged along?”

“Moxxie got tossed into my cell, I couldn’t just fucking leave him there. He’s a crazy good shot, figured he’d be a good candidate for that project we talked about.”

“Hmmmm,” Stolas seemed to be looking the young imp over. It was hard to tell without any pupils. “We will discuss this later. For now,” the prince continued in a haughty tone, “we need to establish the punishment for your little slip up during your extraneous activities. Both of you, follow me.” Stolas turned, his robe and tail feathers swirling dramatically around him. Moxxie looked nervously in Blitzø’s direction. There was a faint glow under the older imp’s shirt collar as he replied “Yes Master Stolas.” He gestured for Moxxie to follow, not at all concerned about what Stolas might have planned as “punishment.”

Apparently the room they’d been delivered to was the first and most public in the master suite. They entered what looked like a well appointed bedroom with a huge canopied bed adorned with blankets and a nest of deep cushions. There was a bookshelf inset in an alcove next to a chaise lounge and chairs, a small desk, and hints of a bathtub on a raised dais shrouded by curtains. Candles and moonlight made the Goetia emblem glimmer wherever it was stamped or embroidered.

The door locked shut behind them, nearly making Moxxie jump out of his skin. As soon as the door was shut, Stolas swooped down to Blitzø, cupping the imp’s cheeks with a tenderness that made his yelling in the drawing room seems like a hallucination. “Are you alright dearest?” the prince cooed as he stroked Blitzø’s head. “Mmph, I’m fine Stolas, really.” Blitzø’s voice was muffled from Stolas’ talons smushing his face. “Just tired from that last sprint. Almost didn’t make it in time. Fucking Cinderhella bullshit.”

“I’m sorry darling. I’ll keep working on it. I’ve been so worried the past few days.” Apparently satisfied that Blitzø was unhurt, the owl demon moved to nuzzling and preening the imp’s particolor skin.

Blitzø gasped at the soft feathers brushing his neck. “Stolas, if you wanna fuck as part of my “punishment” I’m on board, but I don’t think Moxxie wants to watch.” He looked at the other imp over the prince’s head. His face was flushed and a lazy lascivious smile spread across his lips. “Unless you wanna watch Mox. I’ve always liked an audience.” He waggled his eyebrows; Moxxie couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Stolas’ eyes jerked open. He let out a surprised hoot before shooting up to his full height. “Ah! Um, yes, o-of course! We can pick this up later Blitzy.” Blitzy? Within moments Stolas had shifted from a pissed off royal yelling at his property to a flustered loverboy using pet names. “Apologizes for not properly introducing myself earlier.” He bowed with a deep flourish, putting his face eye level to Moxxie. “My name is Stolas, Prince of Ars Goetia.”

Blitzø stretched, popping vertebrae all down his spine and tail. “Didn’t your daddy tell you not to bow to imps?” The same jovial tone Moxxie heard when they first met was back in his voice.

Stolas snorted. “My father, the shit eating bastard that he is, can go fuck himself. Preferably with something full of splinters to join the stick up his arse.” The prince was just as foul-mouthed as Blitzø, with the addition of a fancy vocabulary. He guided Blitzø to the lounge and offered a nearby easy chair to Moxxie. It was built for a Goetia, meaning any imp had to jump to climb up and their feet would dangle childlike once seated. However Stolas produced a step stool from the book alcove, so he could seat himself with more dignity.

“Hi, I’m Moxxie Knolastname.” Hopefully neither of them would recognize the name of one of the Greed Ring’s crime families. “Sir, what the fuck is going on? You didn’t mention any of this before we got to the gates. What was all that about?” Moxxie gestured wildly to the rest of the palace, hoping to indicate everything that had just happened.

“Eh, guess you deserve some explanation. Not the best time but fuck it.” Blitzø rubbed at his forehead, specifically the All Imp Circus brand in the middle. In the space of a blink it changed from a black skull faced heart to a white heart topped by a crown, flanked by decorative lines. “Short version, my dad fucked me over and sold me to the Goetia. His dad,” he jerked a thumb at the lanky owl reclining next to him, “decided to add to the jackassery and bound us.”

“And I am not about to copy his example so I give my darling Blitzy as much free reign as I can manage.” Stolas wrapped his arms and legs around Blitzø with a look of glee. It was simultaneously tender, protective, and possessive. “Unfortunately, members of both my family and staff are quick to spread word to my wilted prick of a father and other members of Ars Goetia, so we maintain a semblance of the master/slave dynamic outside my chambers. Hence, all that.” Stolas vaguely waved in the same direction as Moxxie had before latching back onto Blitzø. “Eugh, Blitzy, you smell awful. That prison cannot have been sanitary. Please get cleaned up dearest, you and… Moxxie, was it? Hopefully we have something clean that will fit you; you’re a bit taller than much of my household staff.”

“I’m sure we’ve got some of my old stuff that’ll work. But seriously Stolas, I couldn’t check on Loonie before this. Can I pop out real qui-”

“Loona is fine.” Stolas interjected with a comforting tone. “I had one of the maids check up on her and the ‘babysitter.’ She let them know you were delayed and offered overtime pay to the young lady.” The maid, one of the few who was loyal to Stolas and Blitzø, relayed that the imp girl, while possessing a distinct country charm, was “thoroughly pissed” at having to watch over an angsty teenager without pay. She’d been all smiles again when informed of the extra money she was being advanced.

Blitzø took a deep breath of relief. He’d adopted the nearly adult Hellhound just a few months ago and they were still getting used to each other. He didn’t know what she’d do on her own yet, hence the babysitter. She was an imp from Wrath he’d gotten to know during the Harvest Festival Stolas had to officiate. She decimated opponents in the Pain Games so Blitzø knew she could handle just about anything.

“Thanks Floof,” he gave Stolas a quick frenching before heading through an inconspicuous door near the bed. He pushed Moxxie along and heard Stolas’ trilling voice call out. “Make sure you put those jumpsuits in the laundry hamper. I look forward to having a little prison bitch around later.” All of Blitzø’s spines stood up at the thought and a tingling warmth raced over him. Not about to let Stolas get the last word, he shot back through the closing door, “I’m sure Mox’s will fit you like those slutty rompers you like to prance around in.” He could hear hooting chuckles from the other room while Moxxie clapped his hands over his head.

—————

Moxxie blinked as the lights flickered on. As if one suite of rooms wasn’t enough, here was essentially an apartment sized for imps. It was much like a studio apartment with one large area for sleeping, eating, relaxing, and a mini kitchen. The furnishings weren’t a match for the rest of the palace, but decent and sturdy. There was a closet and one other door leading to the bathroom. No windows. The only exit was through the master suite. Moxxie started breathing hard as he realized this was basically an upgraded cell.

“Yeah, I know it’s kinda freaky. But it’s one of the safest places in the building.” Blitzø opened the closet and started tossing clothes on the bed. “We set this up after Stolas married that bitchy feather duster. Only people that can get in are me, Stolas, his kid, and one of the maids. Oh, and the people I bring in.” He took the pile of clothes and dropped them on Moxxie. “These are all too small for me now. We could raid the servant’s closets buuuuuuuut…screw that. Now let's see if there’s anything to eat.” A quick look in the fridge produced beers and a comically large cheese wedge. “Oh fuck yes, that woman deserves a raise! Or a good dicking if she wants it again.” Blitzø had the cheese in one hand, a beer in the other hand that was unzipping the prison wear and his tail wrapped around another beer. “You wanna eat before you clean up? There’s more beer, some fried chicken, and I think a salad if you want it.” He stuck out a forked tongue at the thought of vegetables. “Maybe a good enough fuck will get her to stop putting salads in here.”

Food, real food not prison slop, sounded great but a bit of time alone sounded better. “I’ll wash up first sir, I can’t stand this thing anymore.” Blitzø chomped away while giving him another thumbs up. Moxxie caught a glimpse of white scars covering patches of the other imp’s neck, arms, and torso, and what looked like a gold choker at his throat. He closed the bathroom door and dumped the clothes onto a bench. The bathroom wasn’t ostentatious like what he glimpsed in Stolas’s room. It had all the basics in a reasonable size. One thing he did notice was the horse decor. Horses and horseshoes everywhere. The rubber devilduckie was even a cowboy.

It was probably more polite to take a quick shower. Moxxie needed some time to regain his footing though, so he soaked in a bath. He’d been off balance since crossing the gates. Of course, nothing could have prepared him for anything he’d come across here. From everything he’d picked up Blitzø and Stolas were in a shitty situation and trying to make the best of it. It didn’t mean Moxxie had to stick around though.

Yeah, the older imp had broken him out of prison and talked about hiring Moxxie at his new startup. But he also hadn’t mentioned anything about being connected to Hell’s royal families.

Then again, Moxxie hadn’t mentioned his mafia family. He really didn’t want to either. He’d be just fine if his dad thought he died in the prison riot they’d caused during the escape. He could disappear in Pride and leave his own fucked up family behind. Blitzø and presumably Stolas were grateful for his help. Even if he didn’t want to work for them in the end, they probably wouldn’t just kick him to the curb. He wasn’t good at making deals. Crimson hadn’t let him join any important talks yet. But maybe he could leverage some cash out of the pair before finding his own way.

That would have to wait for the morning at earliest. From the sounds of it, Stolas was very enthusiastic about keeping their “appointment” tonight. With at least a glimmer of a plan, Moxxie finished washing and started digging through the clothes. There were a lot of t shirts, tanks, and leather pants. Skinny fit pants at that. Almost all the shirts had some sort of horse design; from one that said “Wild Horse” in messy red letters to one with a trio of sparkly pastel horses rearing under a full moon. Eventually he found a button down with a tailcoat that was pretty close to his normal clothes. It wouldn’t be tailored perfectly but it would do for the morning. For the night he found pajama pants with a horseshoe pattern that he didn’t mind sleeping in. He wasn’t about to sleep nude in a room with a horny couple he barely knew one wall away.

“All yours sir.” Blitzø was flopped on the couch, having finished both the beers and cheese. He was working his way through beer number three, which he took with him to the shower. Moxxie rummaged through the fridge, finding not only what Blitzø had mentioned but the makings of sandwiches and a container of soup. A little more digging around the miniature kitchen and he found various dry goods that would make a decent meal. By the time Blitzø came back he was plating the spaghetti with cheese sauce he’d made. He topped it off with some chopped up fried chicken for some added protein. He made a sizable batch; he doubted a cheese wedge and beer was enough for Blitzø.

Blitzø himself emerged from the bathroom, dressed in horse print boxers (which didn’t hide his slight erection) and a fitted black tank. “Thank fuck, Stolas was right about the stink. Laundry’s gonna have fun with those jumpsuits.” His nostrils flared suddenly. “What the dick? Where’d you get all this Mox?” His eyes were shining at the food and Moxxie could swear he was drooling.

“In your kitchen sir. There’s plenty of dry ingredients for easy meals, probably so you don’t have to disturb the main kitchen during your… ‘appointments.’ I would have liked some mushrooms or fresh herbs for flavoring, the ground and dried ones just don’t quite measure up but I can understand the maid not wanting to have too much perishable food here if your stays aren’t consistent. In any case making a bechamel sauce is fairly simple, it is one of the mother sauces after all and the cheese was perfect for melting into it. I did cheat with the chicken and used the microwave but it works out since there’s not too much cookware here either-“

“Wait wait wait. You made this?” Moxxie nodded. Blitzø yanked open the door and yelled “FLOOF CHECK THIS SHIT OUT MOXXIE CAN COOK!”

There was an undignified squawk before the owl demon cleared his throat. “I hope this is more impressive than the ‘ghetto nachos’ you presented me with.” He had to dip his head to enter the room but once he was in the ceiling was high enough that he didn’t quite brush it with his crest feathers. “Oh! Oh my! That looks delightful! And it smells excellent.” He closed his bottom set of eyelids and inhaled deeply.

“Hey! Ghetto nachos are damn tasty.”

“I’m not saying they aren’t but microwaving processed cheese slices onto tortilla chips does not count as cooking. This on the other hand,” the prince opened his eyes, a pleased expression that had nothing to do with sensuality on his face. “This is incredible. Do I detect some mustard added to the bechamel?”

Moxxie hadn’t expected anyone to notice. “Yes, your highness. With the chicken already being breaded, I felt it would compliment nicely.” He’d never been able to talk to anyone about cuisine before. Everyone at his father’s house had laughed at him. Maybe his mom would have liked to talk about it…

“Please, call me Stolas in private. Might I try a taste?” Moxxie twirled noodles around a fork, making sure both meat and sauce were included. Stolas savored the bite, his eyes closing and his feathers fluffing up. “As delicious as I hoped. As I’ve had dinner already, I won’t keep you from such a well made meal.” He nuzzled the base of Blitzø’s horn before bowing out of the room. “I’ll be waiting Blitzyyyyy.”

Blitzø was already diving headfirst into his plate. “Christ on a stick Moxxie, this is amazing. And that’s not just a week of prison food talking.” How he could taste anything shoveling his food in his mouth that fast, Moxxie didn’t know. He did notice that Blitzø was eating with more enthusiasm than at any other meal they’d shared.

Before Moxxie had more than half his portion, Blitzø was slurping down the last noodle.”That was great, thanks Mox.” He dumped dishes into the sink. Stifling a yawn, he headed back to the master suite. “Make yourself comfortable. Sheets should be clean.” That lascivious grin came back. “Unless watching is the kinda shit you’re into. Stolas’ bed’s big enough for all of us if you feel like joining.” Moxxie nearly choked on his pasta.

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this! The fic is in process and currently around 25k words so there’s a lot more coming. Next part will open up with NSFW content, heads up.

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#helluva boss #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas #helluva moxxie #blitzo x stolas #stolitz #fanfic #helluva fanfiction #helluva au #writing #hellaverse #mature reading

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