Neutered Huh? No Balls Then?

Neutered huh? No balls then?

Blitz snorted and shook his head, taking a moment to sip and sip and sip on his straw. This stupid Strawberry Valentine drink was so good. Supposedly, supposedly it was some fancy new thing based on how Valentino and Angel Dust smelled together--which, weird, but whatever, this was Hell, people capitalized on everything--but it was the freshest thing he'd had in weeks. Blitz wasn't usually one for anything sweet, but this shit was addictive.

Once he'd had enough for now, he settled, eyes half-closed. "Oh, I got balls. Vasectomies don't remove all of that. Daddy's got plenty for you to play with--I just ain't gonna become a daddy. Again. So." More sipping on that stupid damn drink for a while, then he huffed and set it aside. Christ on a stick, he could act like an adult and not a sugar-addicted child, right? Maybe? Fuck.

"If you want to know more, go down the street to the corner store and get me an order of Fries Quatro Quesos Dos Fritos, stat. Whatever the fuck stat actually means, just--go, go. I ain't answering any more questions 'bout my gear til I have something to..." He side-eyed the smoothie again. Fuck, no. Nope. No more. "To eat."

But it was so good.

Happy as could be, Blitz went back to enjoying his smoothie.

As Blitz listened to him, he sat down next to him. The mattress felt so familiar, but at the same time, it felt like they had never been here before. And they hadn't, not really. He looked down at the bedspread for while, needing to look away if he was going to fully take the words in. Frowning a little, Blitz nodded along at several points; the things Stolas asked for, not just the way he asked, but the things themselves, said so much about how badly Blitz had wounded him. And not just Blitz, but damn near everyone else in Stolas's life, the imp thought.

When his beloved fell quiet, Blitz looked up and studied his face, unable to miss the fear--to miss how much courage Stolas was showing right now, with all of this. He was quiet for a moment, then offered Stolas one of his hands, and laid his tail up against his back--strong enough for Stolas to lean back on if he needed to, another way of holding him.

"You are the only one I want. And I don't want to be a convenient way for you to get off, either. I mean, I do, I want you to know that I always want you, so that it's like, so you never feel in-convenent... convene.. fuck, inconvenient. But I want to be something to you, too. Someone you're... proud of, you know? Where if we go to Ozzie's again, maybe neither of us ever has to look away or feel ashamed. I want to be someone that you feel good to want. To love.

"You want my commitment--babe, you got it. I'm yours. And yeah it's... kind of fucking terrifying, saying it," he admitted, eyebrows scrunching up, "but it's true, too.

"What I need in return is... try to... be, I guess, be patient with me? Because we're both learning how to do this right. Together. And we'll get there. We might fuck up along the way, but we'll get there.

"Do... okay. Shit. Um. Two questions. One: can I have a drawer? So that, you know, maybe we can spend more time together without it feeling like..." Like I'm your dirty little secret. "Like somethin' so rushed?

"And second--does it... how... how like, how open do you want things to be at first? If we're out in public, anywhere the other Goetia can find out, how do you feel about me like, you know. Kissing you, or holding your hand?" These were small things, but they felt important to figure out all the same. The way forward would be made of all of these small things, all of these questions asked and answered together. They could do this--couldn't they?

This conversation was a truly terrifying one but it was necessary, Stolas kept reminding himself. After this, if Blitz didn’t feel the same, he could lose the imp forever. He longed to hear the words but should he not receive them, the prince would have to learn to accept that. Though the concept was a painful one.

Stolas gave Blitz time to sort out his words, talons wringing together anxiously as he watched the imp try and put his feelings into words. He closed his eyes, ready for the rejection when he heard the words he had always been longing to hear, I love you. That couldn’t be right, could it? No, but Blitz said then again and confirmed that he was indeed, in love with Stolas. His eyes grew wide as he tried to process those three little words. How could he accept so much from the imp? He had wanted it but now that he had it, what did that mean? What were they? Where was this going?

Stolas’s mind raced as Blitz not only confessed his feelings but apologized as well. A genuine apology this time. It was all too much to process at once. Stolas sat down on the edge of his bed, head in claws as he sorted through everything Blitz said.

Now Blitz was asking what he needed? Stolas hardly knew at this point. The imp had never been so forthcoming, so open. He was already given exactly what he had hoped for from Blitz, why did he want to push the imp even more?

“Blitz I-“ Stolas took a deep breath and looked at the imp from his place on the bed, reaching out to take his claws and squeezing them tightly in his own. He couldn’t stop the almost sad, disbelief that graced his features. “I had thought the words would be enough, and they do mean a lot. Do not get me wrong, however, I need to see your actions reflect your words. I need to know that you truly do care about me-love me-the way you say you do. Words can only mean so much.”

Stolas took a deep breath, “Blitz, if you love me-truly love me-I want commitment. I want to be the only one you want. I want this to be a real relationship. I am tired of being just a convenient way for you to get off. I understand if I am asking a lot but this is what I want. I want commitment. I want companionship. I want love. And I need to see that in your actions, not just your words. I know it is a lot to ask, I encourage you to take your time to…reflect.”

for @toranoya continued from here, because St Peter apparently decided that today is the day to absolutely wreck Blitz's shit, and I am cackling, I love it

-

"Oh, you... um..." Blitz's eyes widened and he took a small step back as Peter approached, saying those things. What had started off as something fun and ridiculous had suddenly morphed into something the imp was in no way prepared for, as a new concept crashed down upon him like a ton of bricks.

Peter watched him? Knew him? Was paying attention--to him? Why? Wasn't his job to watch over humans, people who actually had souls, whose choices meant something? Wasn't he supposed to just gatekeep the Sinners and the Winners, and not care about anything else? Wasn't that what Heaven did? The imp's eyes had somehow managed to get wider still, because the thought that anyone, anyone up top was actually paying attention not just to imps, but to him? That was breaking open a lot of things inside, cracking walls Blitz had so carefully constructed, shining light into dark places he had tried so hard to forget.

Panicking, heart breaking in ways he didn't understand, eyes burning with tears he refused to allow to fall, Blitz nonetheless managed (finally) to put on a smarmy grin, step close, and walk his fingertips slowly up Peter's chest.

"Hey, babe, if you're into watching me... Can't say I blame you. Everybody needs a little distraction now and then, and I'm good at distracting."

This was good. This was better. Better to play at filth than to admit, even to himself, that Peter's dangerous words had just lit the fuse on a kind of yearning Blitz had never known, couldn't possibly understand, and didn't possess the tools to handle. The caring of Heaven had never once been on the table for him. Caring from anyone was relatively new to him, something he was only recently letting himself begin to learn. But that question--he had to believe Peter was lying, fucking with him, that the guy really didn't know anything about his life, and definitely didn't care. Because the alternative?

The alternative might break everything.

This had been an act, but it suddenly wasn't anymore; contact with his lover's body, the way she touched him back, the way she licked his throat, that beautiful sensuality in her voice? Blitz had no immunity against any of those things--no immunity against Visage. He adored this woman, and his body had no defenses against her; whenever she wanted to play him like an instrument, she could. Always. He swallowed hard, shivering a little as she got to him, as the arousal hit harder than he had been prepared for.

"All Daddy wants is you, babygirl," he whispered, the base of his spines already thickening against her touch. Blitz usually hated when people took the liberty of touching him there, but not Vizzy. Not Vizzy. When she did it, he loved it. When she did it, he was hers. No, she could touch him anywhere, any way she wanted to, and it always felt safe, like home--

Except, right now? It felt like one more thing, one terrifying thing.

It felt like they were flirting with the idea of one last time. Blitz was good at recognizing that. He'd been the one instigating it all too often. He had been the one preparing to say goodbye so many times. He knew the signs. He knew the little ways it changed things. He knew too much about it--and he knew it was happening now. But that was the point of all of this, wasn't it? They were standing on the edge of an abyss, and if she jumped, thinking she could dive down into that darkness alone? Blitz was going with her.

Until then, he had to act, to play the part.

It helped that she all but lit his body on fire.

"Maybe we got each other figured out," he replied, voice lower and rougher for her, heated by her, darker for her.

Meeting her eyes boldly, he took both of her wrists and gripped them tight in one hand, holding them down between their bodies; the imp's hands and forearms had a vise-like strength, and so although he was always gentle with her--unless there were times she wanted to be bruised--she might as well be manacled right now.

"Tonight..."

Without so much as looking away from her eyes to even pretend at being civilized, without a hint of shame, Blitz slid a hand inside her clothing, between her legs--up against her warmth. Mindful of his claws--always, always so damn careful with them--he caressed the pads of his fingers against her, gentle and patient, familiar.

"Text me when you finish your work. Then get changed into something you don't mind me ruining. Don't worry about what you'll put on after, I'll have something for you." Attentive little circles, Satan what he wouldn't give to be doing this with his tongue right now instead. "I'll send you an address. You show up exactly where the text says, kneel, and wait. It won't take long. When I show up? You will be mine. You'll do whatever I ask. You won't have to think. You won't have to feel." Blitz kissed her throat, but then bit it, holding it between his sharp fangs--the pressure not quite enough to break the skin, but damn close. He only held on for a moment before he let go and kissed again, softer kisses, everywhere he knew a fang had threatened to pierce.

He loved this woman. Fuck, he loved this woman. He wanted to make sweet, passionate, goddamned vanilla love to her--but that wasn't what she needed. At all. And so until it was? Blitz was going to be her imp, to be whatever it took for her to not need to run.

"You will do whatever I ask you to do, because you know you need to be punished. You've been a brat, and Daddy can't let you get away with that. There will be pain--impact play, some of it will sting--but you won't be injured. You'll be safe. And afterwards? Babygirl, after, I will hold you down and fuck you from behind until you don't want to think anymore, until your legs are jelly, until there's nothing but a slick mess between your thighs, until you're shaking.

"No romance. No thinking. Nothing but fucking 'til we're both all better, even if it hurts.

"Say yes, Daddy. Then kiss me, shove me away, and I'll go--and I'll look forward to that text, babygirl."

Confused emotions bounced like ping-pong balls inside the Overlord's mind, flitting from confusion to anger, flashes of masochistic desire, heartfelt longing, then pivoting to guilt before the crazed cycle began anew. It felt like only Blitz could coax this level of insanity from the depths of her truest self, and that grim realization felt even more damning when she knew just how badly she wanted him to stay. Needed him to challenge her rejections, to pursue her regardless of how far she tried to run. But in that moment...? She was tired. Visage didn't have the strength left in her to run anymore tonight. And, if he was going to give her such an easy excuse to stay, would it really be so wrong...? Another night she would muster the courage to get away and end this before it went too far. For now, she could pretend everything was still uncomplicated and free. One last time. Something dark and familiar swept over those luminous silver eyes as she stared back at him, one of her hands sliding up under the back of his shirt in response to that slithering tail, to caress across scarred crimson skin until the tips of her claws teased at the base of his spines. "Damn..." the hellhound murmured, tone low and sultry, barely audible over the crowds and the pulsing beats. "...Got me figured out, mm...? Whatever Daddy wants, he'll get." The she-wolf's head dipped low as the flat of her tongue dragged hard up the side of Blitz's neck, tracing the line of his pulse in one long lick. Surely there wasn't any harm in getting him even more riled up while he had to wait for her, right...? If this was going to be their final hurrah, she'd best make sure it was a damned good one.

"Anything. It's on my dime, not coming out of your pay, so order from someplace nice, get yourself a few courses." Vox held his phone out, then floated it over to Angel on a little spark of energy. "I'm going to step outside. Don't feel rushed. When you're done ordering, you can slide my phone under the door." Brushing his hands over himself, Vox smoothed his clothes a bit, then put on a smile--which quite literally made his screen brighten.

"And hey, if you'd ever like to join me, feel free. My suite is--no offense, but a nicer place to have dinner than this. I don't even have to be there, you're welcome to use the table, the kitchen. Eat off real plates rather than out of the delivery dishes. You're better than that." He put a hand on the doorknob, about to step out, but stopped himself and looked over his shoulder.

"You know, Angel, when you raise your chin and let your eyes blaze? I don't think there's a soul in Hell who looks more beautiful or defiant. Even if it feels like he's snuffing the light and life out of you, it's in there. Burning."

Vox stepped out and shut the door behind himself, then just waited outside, content to stand there until Angel gave him back his phone. The man had given him a lot to think about--specifically After Care. That wasn't something Vox understood. The reference felt important though, and so as he stood there, he began accessing the internet archives through his wifi, thoughts turned inward, learning...

It didn't take long before he learned too much. Frowning, he folded his arms and leaned against the wall, looking up vaguely at the ceiling.

He had a lot to learn, if he was going to be there for Angel. A lot. And ideas, ideas were brewing...

Angel listened intently to everything that Vox was saying, though he was still struggling to recognize if he believed it or not. Trust was something that had been completely destroyed by Valentino, and he was so terrified that he would fall for someone's lies all over again. Better to only be there for himself, to fight his own battles, to tackle his own demons. That's what prevented hurt.

But fuck, if Angel wasn't such a people person. It was why he had always been driven to the limelight in the first place. Why he had found his place as Hell's hottest celebrity. He liked the attention, the validation, the flattery. Val knew it, too. Val had used that so damn easily against him. Vox wasn't offering any of that, wasn't offering anything bad. Just some conversation, a place for Angel to be heard for once.

Though he had so many questions, he didn't know if he was prepared to ask them. Or if Vox would even give answers. But the thing that had pushed him to be able to trust Vox, even a little at this moment, was that admittance of jealousy. It took putting aside one's pride and ego to be able to say such a thing, and if there was something he did know about Vox, it was that the Overlord valued his pride and ego.

Hand clenching more at his robe, Angel let out a small laugh. Dry, not full of the normal vigor and energy that was completely Angel Dust, but still there. "Can't be part a' th' Vees if mah' name ain't start wit' V. Ah' ain't Vangel Dust." He teased, eyes flickering towards the other. He knew what Vox meant. He had lived in the tower so long, up until Charlie had given him that saving grace of an outlet. He'd been there almost as long as Val had been, honestly. The first star of the pimp's new studio.

He's staring for another few moments, deciding to sigh and move over to the plush couch in the middle of the room, flopping onto it as if even standing took energy at this point. "Ah' ain't neva' had after care from anyone. Don't really expect it, yeh' know?" He's rubbing at his wrists now, not even acknowledging that he's doing it, noting where the bondage ropes from earlier were just a little too tight.

"Don't think ah' wanna talk about it." He's shrugging, bringing his knees up to his chest, arms curling around them as his chin rested atop them, glancing to the television demon. "But ah' ain't ate all night." And if Vox knew, Valentino had worked him an almost 24 hour shift at that point, as punishment for Charlie showing up. "So ah'd be a fuckin' idiot t' say no tah' some free food." A soft smile. "...can ah' order anythin' ah' want? Stromboli is sort of a...comfort food. Or pasta fagioli."

What if Razzle and Dazzle are actually Moxxie and Blitz?