Will I.M.P Torture A Target If The Client Pays For It?

Will I.M.P torture a target if the client pays for it?

Yes and no.

Torture is a pretty big investment of time and a huge risk; to do it right requires a lot of intimacy (non-sexual), and a lot of time. The risk of someone coming to save the target, or avenge them, just goes up and up the longer they spend with them. Not to mention the risk of the target themselves getting free and doing some damage.

If the money was there, Blitz would do it. He has before. He struggles with it a lot--while he enjoys killing, the torture dynamic is harder for him to maintain, harder for him to enjoy. He is good at inflicting pain when it's necessary, but the drawn-out infliction of it, the head games, the destruction of the victim's hope? That fucks Blitz up.

If torture was really necessary, if IMP needed the money that badly, Blitz would take the contract, but fulfill it alone. He wouldn't want to risk Moxxie, Millie, or Loona on something like that. And it would be expensive--the longer he's there with the victim, the less time he has to go out and fulfil other contracts. So there's the expense of that, and then the ridiculous fees he'll add on just because he hates doing it so much. But if the client's pockets are deep enough?

Blitz is good at it.

Even if he hates it.

He's good at it.

Sometimes we fight and roll around and break stuff. Christ on a fucking stick, was a clone, or twin, or whatever the fuck, telling him about his sex life with Lucifer fucking Morningstar? That would be about right, Blitz thought with a groan. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder as best he could, he grit his teeth and just focused on speeding the fuck out of there. Whatever this was, whoever was behind it, he wanted out of the kill zone that the densely packed, skyscraper-backed streets of Pentragram City made.

"Yeah, great, rolling around together, always works up a fucking appetite, doesn't it? Stay the fuck down or I'll put a hole in you myself!" He wouldn't--probably--because shooting the target one was supposed to protect was frowned upon--generally--but today was... fuck, today was something else.

To help with the mood, Blitz flipped the radio on. One of the Wrath channels was Car Chases, Standoffs, and Showdowns, so he twisted the dial until that one came on, and perfect action-movie music started blaring out of the van's (admittedly less than quality) speakers. A few more minutes of loud music, tires squealing, abrupt turns, and then the pings against the van stopped altogether. Still, although it seemed like they were out of harm's way, Blitz kept going for a while longer. He'd been told about a safehouse, some place to bring him until the client would pick him up, when he was given the job. It wasn't much farther--assuming it wasn't a trap.

Eventually, they were in the jagged mountains beyond Pentagram City. Blitz eased off the gas, flexed his injured arm to see how bad it--fuck, ow--was, and let out a tight breath.

"Okay. Okay. It's gonna be like another fuckin' hour until we're at the safe-house where your... benefactor, or what the fuck ever, will be. You said something about healing me?" He glanced into the backseat, trying not to look or sound as worried as he felt. "And are you okay back there, you good? There's some Capri-Sin if you're thirsty. "

There’s an audible “squeak!” as Blitz shoves the angel down to the floor of the van, blue eyes round as saucers. What in Heavens name was going on?! Why are people shooting at them? Is this what being kidnapped is? These thoughts are distracted by just how filthy the floor of the van is. Discarded fast food wrappers and drink cups, loose bullets, a bunch of weird little plastic sleeves labeled “Satan Slong XXL”, and these weird round balls with a metal ring on the top. These items bump and jostle against him as the van swerves and jerked.

Hearing the lizard man cry out, Lucid does in fact sit up in alarm. The angel sees the fresh red staining his jacket, a color that Lucid rarely sees with his own eyes. His own blood and his brethren are gold and glowing. “Whoah whoah! You’re hurt! Pull over so I can heal you!”

He pushes himself up on the cushions of the backseat to stand, only for a bullet to whiz through the space between his head and halo. Ducking down again, Lucid glances over at the wounded lizard demon. “Th-they want me DEAD?! Um, uh, pretty much everybody I guess? In Hell at least? Except Lucifer. Sometimes he wants to but then we fight and roll around and sometimes break stuff. But then after we’re good again and go get sweet treats!”

did you know bowling balls are just extra large jawbreakers? I can prove it! CATCH!

Blitz probably should have ducked, but he didn't. Frowning, he just caught the bowling ball when it was lobbed at his face. The imp was ridiculously strong, especially in the forearms; he dug the tips of his claws into the ball, bits of it crumbling away.

"What exactly the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked, his expression flat, his eyes angry. Blitz tossed the ball in one hand, glaring back at the person who had thrown it. He looked at them for a long moment--then grinned and tossed the ball right back at them. But almost in the same motion, he had his pistol out and the shot taken.

Throwing a bowling ball at someone's head was attempted murder. Blitz wasn't in the mood to just attempt it. Brushing his hands off, his grim expression turned to a cheerful smile.

"Never do something half-assed, bitch."

Until now, Blitz hadn't even known that Stolas could heal the wounds of others. For some reason, that knowledge felt heavy, edged with some kind of pain or grief that Blitz didn't understand. He watched as his former lover got up and hurried to dress, already making plans to get too involved, to put himself into harm's way over this.

Blitz's heart broke.

I love him.

"Stolas," he said, voice gentle. Walking over, he reached up to touch his hand, hoping to stop him from his packing and his preparation. "Stolas, don't. I don't--remember. All of what happened. Some of it, but not all of it. And then I woke up this morning on the floor with him. I definitely did it, I had to have. My weapon was in his heart. So don't. Please. Please don't do this." Blitz sounded a little too calm, considering he was pleading with Stolas, but he was too exhausted to put more energy into it. His body felt strange--the places Stolas had healed felt alive, as if his skin was somehow brighter there, a strangely sharp contrast to everything else.

I love him--and I never deserved him.

"You have a daughter. What will happen to Octavia if you go missing 'cause of me? You--you've already broken demon law for me enough. Not this time, babe, okay? It means--the world. To me." Fuck, there were tears in his eyes now, why were there tears in his eyes when he was smiling and his heart suddenly feeling so full? Blitz blinked and they fell, and for once, they didn't hurt. Usually, tears seemed to burn, to demand, to take something with them as they fell, but not this time. Not tears shed out of gratitude, out of love. Not tears that fell for Stolas's kindness. Blitz didn't really know how to process it, so he didn't try. Instead, he smiled a little more.

"You. Are so fucking beautiful, Stolas. And I love you."

Stolas tried to ignore the soft touches from Blitzø as he slowly began to heal his wounds with magic. They still left scars that would take time to heal but at least the wounds closed and stopped the bleeding. He was almost frantic with the way his talons moved over the imps skin, wanting him to be whole and safe once again.

The prince was still so angry, thinking over the past few months but he would never leave Blitzø to suffer. The imp meant so much to him, perhaps too much. When Blitzø started to preen him, Stolas faltered in his healing, tears springing to his eyes at the gentle touch. Preening was such an intimate act, surly Blitzø didn't know what he was conveying?

Stolas paused in his ministrations when the imp began to confess everything that had happened before his arrival. Stolas sat back on his legs, trying to steady himself as his eyes widened in shock. "W-Why would you ever do such a thing?" Stolas could hardly believe it, was this a nightmare? Surly, he would wake up soon.

"Blitzø...killing a Goetia-it's punishable by death, I-I don't understand why you would do something so reckless? Did he attack you? If it was self defense, perhaps I can speak to the council-"

Stolas was scared, there was no other word for it. Killing a Goetia could put Blitzø in mortal peril and he refused to allow that to happen. The prince got to his feet and began to pull on the closest outfit he could find. "We should go to the human world. I will hide you there for now, until I can assure your safety. Yes, this could work. It will be fine!"

Stolas hurried around frantically-manically. He had to keep Blitzø safe, no matter the cost. He refused to lose the only person outside of Octavia that he cared about, dare he say love?

Love? How could anyone love a washed up circus imp like you?

"What, you mean like Stolas and Vizzy? And Angel? Fuck you." Blitz waved his hand dismissively at the stranger, although there wasn't really any heat to his voice; he didn't sound upset, or even like he really disagreed with them.

"They might have chosen the wrong guy, cause I--am. The wrong guy. A walking piece of shit and we all know it. But, listen." Abruptly, he plopped down on the empty stool next to this person, scooting over closer to them. "It's not my call. Whether or not they get to love me. I thought, for the longest fucking time, I thought that I had some say in it. So it always felt like I was tricking people, if they gave a shit. It always felt like, like I was doing something, fucking... You know. Wrong.

"But that is why I kept pushing people away. That shit attitude. That somehow, because I didn't believe in myself, no one else could either. You know how fucking long it took me to figure that out? How fucking many people I pushed away and hurt before a light clicked the fuck on? It's--listen. Bud. Take my advice? One drunk fucker to another: don't decide for other people that they're right or wrong to love you. Just try not to be a dick about it."

Blitz heard him out, taking in every word. Some of them hurt, some of them felt like bliss, and the mixture was a bittersweet one. They had gone too far into the pain, they had hurt each other too badly, for this to just be brushed away like nothing had happened. But we can't brush things away or ignore them anymore, he reminded himself firmly, trying to quash that old fucking instinct that always insisted it was better, better to ignore the problems, better to run, better to be safe and alone than vulnerable and with someone else.

His throat was tight by the time Stolas finished, and since Blitz was still standing up on the furniture, tall enough to do this for once, he pulled the beautiful bird into his arms. Gently, more gently than he wanted to, afraid he might break him somehow, or break this moment, this careful peace they finally had. Closing his eyes, Blitz rubbed his cheek against Stolas's shoulder.

"I'm gonna answer," he said, stomach tight enough that he thought he might be sick, but in a good way, an overwhelmingly good way. "I just... I need a minute. To breathe. Please. Don't--don't leave this time. Because I'm not fast enough to..." He swallowed against tears and hugged Stolas a little tighter, holding onto the lifeline that was this warm body. Fuck, it ached to know a body so well, but feel a million miles away from the person inside it. And right now, until they got onto the same page? They were a million miles apart, if not more. Stolas just said so much, made himself so vulnerable, and Blitz knew that if he fucked this up? Stolas might never be able to open up like this with him again. Why would he want to?

Don't be afraid. Even if he's planning on breaking your heart, you owe it to him to let him. Stop being a little bitch about love, he told himself, trying to find the courage. Fuck, why the fuck was this so terrifying?

"I love you, too," he said, the words coming out softly, before Blitz had even fully decided to say them. "Stolas. I love you, too. I wanted to tell you at your house. It took me--way too long. Into that fight. To realize that you and me, we weren't talking about the same thing, we weren't fighting about the same thing. We were on way fucking different pages, and when I realized it, I tried to reach out but you--you needed to get away. And I. Fuck. I'm the captain of cutting and running. Of getting overwhelmed and freaking the fuck out and needing to just... so I, I get it, Stolas. I get it. Why you didn't stay.

"And I was shitty to you. All the time. But then at the party, after you sang... I wanted to tell you so many things. You were too drunk, I don't know if any of it would have sunk in. And it wouldn't... it wouldn't have been fair? To tell you the things, the things that... that really matter? When maybe you wouldn't remember them.

"I love you. I'm in love with you. And I want you? I don't know what you, why you, why you would want me, but I'm learning to accept that you do. And maybe you're sorry for the deal, but I ain't. Cause that deal? The chance to get close to you? I wouldn't change that for the fucking world.

"I don't know how you can trust me. There's... nothing. That I can fucking say, to convince you. But if you'll let me, I'll try, Stolas. For you. I will try--anything. And I am sorry. For everything. All the times I left you feeling alone. One more asshole in your life who turned away. I'm sorry for everything. Stolas, I'm sorry. For hurting you. For all of it.

"What do..." His heart was racing a million miles a minute. How could it be so terrifying, admitting love to someone else? Trying to work a relationship out? Why did hope have to hurt to experience?

"What do you need? From me. To feel--safe. Wanted. To feel like, like maybe you can start believing, or risk believing, that I care...?"

Stolas held Blitzø's hands in his as the imp confessed everything he had only longed to hear. They were beautiful, hopeful words that Stolas had only dreamt of hearing. Now that they were spoken aloud from the very person he had wanted to hear them from, it was hard to process. Part of Stolas wondered if Blitzø was only saying all of these beautiful things to get back in his good graces and not because he truly felt them. Satan, he hoped that the imp truly meant it. All of it.

He couldn't help but reach out and cup Blitzø's face adoringly, though a sad smile graced his features. Blitzø had been so resistant to telling Stolas how he felt, the prince was stealing himself for it all to slip away in an instant.

"You know how I feel Blitzø, I have told you how much you mean to me and all I have wanted was to hear that you felt the same. How can I trust anything that you have to say? I want to Blitzø, more than anything."

Stolas dropped his hand and hugged himself, needing comfort. "I understand that you do not like to speak about feelings Blitzø but I need you to. I have to hear the words or I will always doubt that you truly care for me as anything other than a convenient fuck. Do you understand? I want more. I deserve more.

"I apologize for ever starting the deal in the first place, I simply wished to spend time with you. I had no frame of reference for how to do that. You were my first and only ever friend Blitzø. I thought about you constantly after that night. I debated over and over how I could get you to come visit once again and that is why the deal was made. I was never going to hold the grimoire over you, I would have let you use it for as long as you needed. I should have never proposed such a deal, for that I am truly sorry.

"Somewhere along the way, I have come to love you Blitzø. Truly, deeply, love you. I can only hope you feel the same but I need to hear the words Blitzø. Please tell me that you love me as well."