How Hard Will You Fight For Your Team And Stolas?

How hard will you fight for your team and Stolas?

"Hard," Blitz answered, his voice a little flatter than usual. He was at his desk, arms loosely folded behind his head, boots on the desk with one ankle crossed over the other--a posture that might have looked relaxed if not for the sudden suspicion and heat in his eyes.

"Why? You wanna go? Cause I've got the time. If you want to threaten them, any of them, oh, I've so got the time."

Threatening him was one thing. Blitz was used to that. But the people he loved? The imp would abandon all self-preservation, all common sense, if it meant protecting them.

Blitz, how are you, Moxxie, and Millie doing after those penguins invaded your company?

"Oh, we're fine. We're great! It was, you know, traumatic, but we're healing together." Blitz batted his eyelashes, smiling--but after a moment, his smile faltered. "I mean, really, it's...

"Moxxie knows about everything. Me and Stolas, Verosika's party. And that little fucker has really had my back. I wouldn't even be getting through half these fucking days if not for him. And that penguin murder brigade was fucking terrifying, but I've been putting in a lot of extra hours at the range. Like fuck I am ever letting any stupid tubby torpedo-blubber-bird ever hurt my employees. It doesn't matter how cute penguins are, or that ooooh, they like rocks," he waved his hands in the air, rolling his eyes, "they can suck my little red hole and thank me for the experience." He gave an angry little slurp of his coffee, then sighed, calming down a bit. The truth was, Blitz was emotional these days. He didn't have his usual resilience. Humor was harder. Everything felt harder. He just... didn't feel like himself, and he hated it.

"I'm sorry. That came out kinda, you know, douche-tastic, didn't it? We're fine. Thank you for checking in. Millie and Moxxie are the toughest fuckers I know. It's gonna take a lot more than some sealbirds to ever really fuck them up." His voice dropped a register or two as he added, baring his teeth in a dark grin, absolutely devoid of mercy: "And if those fucking birds ever come back? I'll be ready for them."

Blowjobs and beaks don't usually mix well. Just a little warning for the imp

"Depends on who's got the beak," Blitz shot back with a filthy little grin, and a highly suggestive twitch of his tail. At least, that particular tail gesture was crude in imp culture, akin to putting one's fingers to their lips and tonguing between them, but Blitz didn't expect the stranger to know that.

"If you're worrying about Stolas, don't. That babe is talented. Course, if you're talking about someone like Eclipse or Parak..." Another tail twitch, this one at least slightly less salacious, and Blitz let out a dark little chuckle. "I'll take my chances."

@stolas-arsgoetia-rp came straight for the feelz and said: “Thank you for defending my honor, my darling. However, you cannot take all of the blame. After all, I was the one who initiated the deal in the first place. It seems we have much to discuss but know this, my dearest: I do not regret our first night together, no matter the consequences that came after, and I never will.”

-

Blitz grew quiet, listening as Stolas spoke. He hadn't even known that Stolas was there, that heard it. Slowly, his tail curled up over his shoulder, and by the time Stolas was done speaking, the imp wanted to melt. Melt away into the ground? Melt away into oblivion? Melt in Stolas's arms? Melt into his voice, where he could live forever? He didn't know and it didn't matter. His golden eyes were locked onto Stolas's, gleaming with all of the things Blitz had been too shitty to ever say to him and mean--the things he'd been too afraid of. But now? They had already lost each other, hadn't they? So there was nothing left to lose--

Nothing left to be afraid of.

"I don't regret it either, Stols," Blitz admitted. He stepped closer. Then, with a muttered fuck it, he jumped up onto a chair and stood there, wanting to be closer to being able to look Stolas in the eyes. Heart fucking aching for love of this beautiful man he had lost by being the biggest fucking idiot to walk the Rings, Blitz reached out and took his hands.

"I don't regret you. And I never fucking will. I know it's... it's probably too late. Whatever you've got going on these days, with Demetri, or whoever, or just... you're probably happy. And that's--that's good. I'm happy for you. But Stolas, I'm never going to forget you, okay? I'm not like..." He looked down, sighing. "Fucking good at this. This feelings bullshit. Being honest and communicative and not just, you know. Spewing nonsense every other sentence." Blitz swallowed hard, shook his head, then looked back up. "But I miss you. All the time. Every day. I miss your texts. I miss the way you smell. The way you sound. I miss holding you. I miss when you start dreaming and making little like, fucking, little bird sounds in your sleep. I miss watching you get up and get ready for whatever you have to do that day. I just... I didn't...

"I didn't like. Appreciate you. Enough. When we had each other. I didn't tell you shit. I left you feeling... fucking... alone, right? Like you were some kind of monster, abusing me, and like you weren't... wanted? And that's, that's on me, Stolas. And I know it. I'm not... I'm never gonna be like, perfect." Like you are. Fuck, Stolas was everything. Blitz shook his head. "But I'm trying. Because I don't want to be this guy anymore.

"I don't want to stay the man who broke your heart."

"What, not gonna say anything about my hand pun? Damn. I thought it was kind of clever." Blitz was going to keep shit-talking as long as he lived, even when he might be in over his head--and look at this situation. This, this was being in over one's head if anything was. Her prosthetic was apparently some kind of shifty shit, stretching and turning even deadlier, giving her better reach...

He should go. He knew it. He knew he should leave--but her words sparked something in him, a fury so rich and deep that no shade of red would ever compare. This time, when the imp growled, it was a very real sound, an overt threat--or promise. "And you know what? Fuck you. I don't deserve a place in Heaven? Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know. But you know what? You and your angelic bullshit can suck my fucking dick. Imps are born in Hell. We aren't human, we don't get a fucking choice to screw up. We don't get souls, we don't get the chance of ending up here.

"So yeah, you can look down on me all you fucking want, you can sneer, feel superior, but maybe it's in your interest not to piss me off. Or my fucking kind. Because we're what Heaven is afraid of, right? All the shitty losers, Hell's rabble, the Sinners and the Hellborn? You're not afraid of Lucifer. You're afraid of what the fuck would happen if we rise up--" He was actually growling as he spoke now, despite how quickly his words were coming out; the growl was a deep accompaniment, a threatening rumble, low in his chest. "It must be nice, having everything you could ever want, being able to look down on everyone. Do you ever stop to question your self-righteous bullshit?"

Lute's gaze darted to the knives for an instant, her scowl deepening at the bit of angelic steel she could see on them. Looking back up as the imp began to move, she kept a cold glare on him and stepped over as well to be partially in front of the door. "You're a demon." She growled, her wings flaring out wide. "I don't need any help from you- the only reason I've not already torn your throat out is so I can find out how you got up here. Creatures like you have no place at all to be in Heaven, so it'd be in your best interest to not piss me off." Her prosthetic arm shifted a bit more, the already deadly-sharp claws growing in long, jagged spikes.

[for @grimowled continued from this dark, sticky, ultra-sweet sap ]

-

Blitz was still sitting alone in his living room, curled up on the couch. His apartment was dark and quiet--Loona wasn't around much these days--and he had been letting himself get lost in too many dark thoughts, empty thoughts. Texting a confession to Stolas had felt like idiocy. After Verosika's party, what the fuck would Stolas ever want from him again? But Blitz still wanted him. He always would, he knew. Apparently, he was fucking cursed with love, cursed to love, and he couldn't break free of it... Nor did he want to. So, although he knew the answer would be more silence or ridicule, he sent the text anyway, closed his eyes, and tried to dream of better scenarios, of ways that maybe it wouldn't go so badly.

And then his phone-screen lit up. The new notification sound was a clip of Stolas's performance--one of the most popular videos trending on VoxTube--and so that sweet, smooth voice came through the darkness, easing away so many shadows. Stolas's voice was a shadow all its own, but one Blitz could willingly lose himself in. He closed his eyes, listening until the clip of the song was over, then picked up the phone. Heart heavy, he opened the text, expecting to see... to see...

Fuck. Those words weren't what Blitz had expected at all. Golden eyes widening, he read over them again and again, struggling to believe it.

...my every waking thought my most blissful of nightmares... ...monstrous wings around you to keep.... together... my heart... you and you alone... come to me quickly... carve my devotion upon your soul... yours.

Blitz's heart felt like it was frozen. This, all of this, was like some fucked up dream come true, in the most painfully beautiful way. He knew this was dangerous, knew Stolas wasn't safe, wasn't some gentle, benign being. Stolas wasn't for beginners. He wasn't anywhere near as soft as his feathers or his voice might make him seem. He was a demon prince in every way--and he was all Blitz fucking wanted. If Stolas wanted to carve his devotion onto Blitz's soul--fuck. The imp didn't know what that meant, but he knew that it didn't really matter. He wanted it. He wanted him, and he was done pretending otherwise. Stolas mattered so damned much--too damned much.

Maybe it was time to bind himself to the demon. To offer himself to Stolas, for better or for worse. If it meant they could be together, if it meant he could still have him, still love him? Be near him?

Maybe it was time to finally yield to his demon prince.

-

Blitz didn't waste time. He didn't know what the fuck was going to happen. Maybe just hot sex, a nice night of banging and laughter and then them passing out curled up in each other's arms. Or, maybe Stolas was going to use his magic on him, bind them together forever, warp Blitz's very being... but did it really matter? There was still some sense of caution in Blitz that said yes, yes, it matters, be goddamn careful, what the fuck are you doing, but he was tired of fighting that voice. He was so fucking tired.

Dressed in his sluttiest best--a mesh shirt with chrome rings for his spines, leather trousers so tight they might have been painted onto him, black eyeshadow--he didn't bother sneaking in this time. Blitz knocked on Stolas's front door, and as soon as the door opened and one of the staff tried to sneer at him, to gesture at him to go around to a side door, Blitz stalked inside. No holding back, no playing it safe, not anymore.

"Where the fuck is my bird?"

-

A nervous servant led the imp up to Stolas's room. Tail lashing, Blitz glared until the servant left. Then, not hesitating at all, he kicked the door open like the uncultured, uncouth vermin he was, and stalked into the room.

"Stolas! You told me to come, so I'm here. I'm... I brought something for you. For us." Eyes brighter than ever, tail still lashing, Blitz walked up to him, then held out a tattered leather bag, something old. The unmistakable clink of chains could be heard inside, smooth metal sliding against itself. There was a collar in there, a collar and a chain, something Blitz remembered too well from his hallucination--a hallucination where he saw the truth. He loved this man. Stolas was on a damned pedestal, and even if Stolas owned him, even if Stolas collared and chained him, Stolas loved him. And being loved by Stolas? That. Was better than a lifetime of anything else--including self respect, safety, or common sense.

"I'm yours, Stolas. Whatever that means. Whatever you want. I'm yours to keep. Just--don't cast me aside again. Please. I'll give you, I am giving you, everything. My heart. My trust. Me."