I Love You, Even If It Means Saying Goodbye.

❝ I love you, even if it means saying goodbye. ❞

Blitz tried to answer, but he couldn't. He closed his eyes, fighting against the tears, but he lost that fight, too. They slid out, a trickle at first, but then steadily, and he shook his head.

"I love you too, Stolas," he whispered. "And maybe I'm not... not... maybe I'm not ready to be what you need. But I want to be. I want to. Whatever you need from me, I want to do. To try. Even if that's--even if you just--even if you just need to fucking, to go. And live your life, do what you want. I won't stand in your way. Just... Fuck." Humiliated, face burning, he took Stolas by the hand and dragged him into the nearest bar. Rude and small and shameless, because this might be the last time he ever got to see Stolas, he got into a minor tiff with the DJ, but was quickly put on stage--taking Stolas with him...

His heart in Stolas's hands.

Blitz wasn't the singer that Stolas was, but he knew now how much music meant to Stolas, how much the beautiful prince connected through it. Maybe that was because music had been the only safe outlet for him for so long, maybe it was just in his nature. Either way, Blitz owed him a song. The tears still fell, but he never looked away from his baby.

These were words he knew by heart.

"Just cause it's slow don't mean it's sad Just cause it's wrong doesn't mean it isn't right Just cause it hurts don't mean it's bad Just come over, come over tonight...

"Just cause we're fighting Just cause we're crying Just cause the stars in the sky, they aren't shining Just cause I told you that it was over That doesn't mean I don't need you by my side No, it doesn't mean goodbye..."

okay but is Blitzo in love with Moxxie?

"Are you like, are you not?" Blitz asked, maybe more than a little incredulous. He'd been cleaning a rifle, but he set the pieces down now, folded his arms, and looked at the Sinner. "And hey, don't run. I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed.

"Have you seen Moxxie? Cause that fuckin' guy is the most handsome imp I've ever seen. No offense to Fizz, but Moxxie's got that certain somethin' that just, you know. Moxxie's hot as fuck and he's got a heart of gold to back it up. Plus, if he wants to, he can take you out from like, way more than ten yards," counting the big numbers wasn't really Blitz's strong suit, "and you'll never even know you were targeted til it's way too late. So. You tell me, bucko:

"What's not to love about a handsome guy who survived with his heart intact, against all odds, will always have someone's back, respects himself, and knows how to make actual like, good choices? Moxxie's a babe and a half, and you gotta be stickin' your head in the sand if you don't see it."

[re: @moxxietude, of course]

"Thank you, Mox. I will." And although it wasn't something the two of them usually ever did, Blitz brushed Moxxie's tail with his, trying to show any hint at all of how deeply this kindness affected him, how much it meant to him. He had never really understood Moxxie before, he knew that now, because he'd never gotten to see the full depth of that incredible heart. He knew Moxxie was sweet, knew he was silly, knew he was a lethal killer. But now? He knew Moxxie was so much more. Moxxie loved. Moxxie loved in ways he never should have been able to, never should have learned to want to, because he was good man. The two of them had both survived horrific fucking childhoods, but where Blitz's heart had come out an uncertain and bruised thing? Moxxie's was thriving.

I can learn from him, Blitz thought, as they walked along the streets together, still holding hands because he couldn't bring himself to let go. If Moxxie can do it, I can do it. And I will. I owe everyone that much, myself included. A glance up at the sky made his heart ache, so Blitz looked back down, looked over at his friend, and his eyes gleamed a little brighter, losing some of the dullness that came with heartache.

He didn't say a word until they were outside Moxxie's building, but then he turned to face him. Blitz finally let go of his hand, but only after squeezing it--trying to say so much with that little gesture. Thank you, I love you, I need you, you are incredible, you did more for me tonight than you can possibly know but somehow I think you know anyway.

"Have a good night," he said, voice soft and warm, and he touched his forehead to Moxxie's before hurrying away.

Blitz went home as quickly as he could, and as promised, he sent Moxxie a text:

-> Made it safe. Luv you. Thank you.

Simple words. Not enough. Nothing would ever be enough. He didn't know how to deal with the kind of gratitude he was feeling, didn't know how to handle how much love he had just been shown. For Blitz, love wasn't something to take for granted--it wasn't something to take at all, because he had never trusted before that anyone meant it when they offered it.

As he washed blood from his knuckles, tears slid down his cheeks. Shame, guilt. All of the love people had tried to offer, all of the love he had rejected because he was too afraid and traumatized and fucking stupid.

All of the love.

By the time the water ran clear, he had stopped crying. Blitz bandaged his hands, then curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow to his chest, and let himself fall into Moxxie's gift:

Hope.

Moxxie squeaked as he was lifted by Blitzo. He was always impressed, though not surprised, by how strong the other imp was. After seeing Blitzo bench guns that had to be three times his size. But he didn't struggle, holding on to his friend-and-boss for a moment, allowing him a moment to decompress. Maybe he needed something like a living security blanket? Sure, Moxxie could do that. He smiled bashfully as Blitzo set him back down on his hooves and rubbed the back of one of his horns.

Clasping his hands together, he listened, head tilted. Blitzo's scattered sentences were still worrisome but he seemed to have stopped crying and panicking and that was a positive. At the request, Moxxie nodded, almost eagerly. Anything to help to Blitzo.

"Yes. We can do that. If you want to visit for a little while you can too. But I understand if you want to go right home." He took Blitzo's unbruised hand so he could hold it. "I'd like that..." he nodded at the idea of Blitzo texting him to let him know he got home safe. "I think I finished all the office chores, so you can use this weekend to recover if you need."

Usually he'd leave it at that. But considering that they were being more honest with each other lately, he added, almost in a whisper, "Hopefully you'll call us if you need anything."

The brightly colored poster was almost too much, Blitz almost didn't look at it twice, but something caught his eye.

Still aching from his brawl with Lucifer, he took the flyer down from a post and read it over, eyes widening. "Fuck," Blitz whispered, before immediately ducking back into the building. The sheet of paper felt illegal somehow, some kind of trap--

But all the same, he snapped a photo of it and sent it to Moxxie along with the words: 'it ain't just us feeling disgruntled'

Then, before he could overthink it, Blitz went to the copier and put the sheet in. A dozen freshly printed copies in hand, he grabbed some pins and headed back outside to put a few more of these up. Maybe it was dangerous, maybe it was foolish, but he didn't want anyone to feel alone in this. Their voices were goddamn legion, if they used them right.

After putting the last poster up, Blitz rested a hand on the paper and let out a slow, shaky breath. Maybe they could do this without violence...

But then again, maybe not. Blitz loved Lucifer and loved Hell, and would do whatever it took to help bring a new future forward, a better future, but as the cracked bones and deep bruises reminded him, there would always be a cost.

Always.

Time for a Revolution

*A series of flyers and posters appear in all rings of Hell. They're everywhere, any demon or sinner will eventually read them.*

RISE UP AGAINST THE OPPRESSORS!

For too long, Hell’s elite have crushed the backs of hardworking Imps, Hellhounds, and demons of all kinds.

The Goetia live in luxury, while we are forced to serve them, fighting for scraps and left to rot in the dirt. How much longer will we be slaves to a system designed to keep us down? How much longer will we suffer under the weight of their greed, their arrogance?

THE TIME FOR REVOLUTION IS NOW!

We are the backbone of Hell’s society. Without us, nothing would work. They depend on our labor, our sweat, our blood—and what do we get? NOTHING. We are treated like trash, disposable, while they hoard power and wealth!

IT’S TIME TO FIGHT BACK!

Let’s break their system! Let’s shatter their illusion of control! We will no longer be the tools of the Goetia and the powerful.

We will riot in the streets, occupy their grand palaces, and tear down their walls. Together, we will turn this place upside down, and show them that WE will no longer be silenced, no longer be used!

Occupy their streets!

Burn their symbols of power!

Tear down their walls of privilege!

Make them hear our cries for justice!

Join the revolution. It’s time to claim what’s ours.

We are the force of change, and nothing can stop us. Together, we will build a new Hell, a Hell where everyone has a voice, where no one is above another!

FOR FREEDOM! FOR JUSTICE! FOR US!

(This is a call to ALL Ocs and muses who would agree with Striker about starting a revolution. If your oc agrees and either writes a comment or goes into the streets, creates chaos, or even if they don't agree please tag this blog! I'd love to read all the reactions!)

Striker was his enemy, had been his enemy for so long now that it felt strange to think of him as anything else, felt strange to care, but all the same? Blitz did. His stomach tightened as he listened. The idea of Striker being killed by the Goetia was nauseating in a way Blitz never would have expected it to be. His hand tightened around the phone as he took everything in, as the story hit him--hit him, and made so much about the man make sense.

"Striker," he said, his voice warm, loving, "I don't hate you. And what you just told me... I didn't know. I'm sorry. You deserved better. So did she. And if this is what you have to do--I believe in you. I do. And I'll help, if I can. Hell, I just fought Lucifer not all that long ago, because I wanted the Hellborn to be treated better. He loves us. All of us. And he cares... and maybe Paimon doesn't have the right to do these things, but he has the power." Closing his eyes, Blitz rubbed a hand against his forehead. "I don't want you to die.

"What do you need from me? Tell me how to help you." A dangerous question, maybe him signing his own death warrant, but so be it. Blitz had been ready to die for the Hellborn once before. Now that they were rising on their own? He would be a fucking hypocrite if he wasn't willing to risk it all to help them again--especially a man he had once trusted, once cared about... a man who deserved a second chance. Who deserved better.

"Paimon took away someone from me. Someone I love."

Striker let out a low, bitter chuckle.

“I know it’s a risk, Blitzø. Hell, I ain’t blind to the fact this could get me killed. But it’s for somethin’. For her. For a chance at somethin’ better than what we got now. I ain’t dyin’ just to rage against the royals. I’m fightin’ for a future where the ones we love don’t get torn away just ‘cause some stuck-up bastard says so. 'Cause he thinks we're too inferior."

He took a breath, his voice tightening with conviction.

"This ain’t just about rebellion, it’s about freedom. And yeah, maybe I’ll die. But I’d rather die fightin’ for her, for us, than live a life where we’re both chained. I won’t throw it away, Blitzø. I’ll make sure every damn second counts.”

He then licked his lips, watching the people chanting together in the streets.

"I know you hate me. I...I did awful things to you and your friends. But I changed, Blitz. Or at least I'm doin' my best to.

I can't describe ya the pain I felt when I found out my love was forced to marry another man...

And that he was forced as well, his adoptive family kept as hostages so he could be compliant. Who's gonna be next? Paimon doesn't have the right to do these things."

Blitz heard him out, although his eyes got progressively wider for a bit there, before he realized that maybe, maybe his baby had been up too late and needed to think about something other than movies. So, Blitz scooped Moxxie up into his arms and carried him over to the couch. With Millie out of town this weekend, Blitz had invited him to come stay at his place. They could watch movies, eat snacks, and generally just have a fun time... but for now, he just wrapped him up in a blanket, making a Moxxie burrito, then snuggled him close.

"I don't know if the food from earlier made you crazy, or if you're just tired, but," Blitz gently closed his teeth around one of Moxxie's horns and gave a long, slow sigh before letting go and nuzzling his hair. "I kinda think you need to sleep, bud. You want me to put the cat channel on? With all of those videos of like birds and mice and stuff? And hey, listen. If you're an alien? As long as you're still you, I love you, fucker. Wherever you came from. You're still my Moxxie." Another loving bite to the horn, another nuzzle to his hair. "And if any aliens come and try to take you away? Not fucking happening. I'll Not Without My Daughter those bitches so hard."

@doublejango

"No, no nothing like that! I've just been thinking about this a lot for some reason. Like...the ending. I always figured, one or the other is the Thing now, right? Well, now I'm starting to think both are the alien! And the assimilation process is so good and so perfect that the alien knows sinner paranoia too. So they really are looking at one another and paranoid the other is the alien. So it's become...alien infects mankind. To paranoia infects alien..." Moxxie freezes. "Because now they've forgotten they're even the alien. So it'd be possible to be the Thing and have forgotten about it..."

Moxxie staring off into space with a haunted look.