The Shadows Drop Off A Gift For Blitz. What Looks To Be A Pristine Western Revolver, As If It Were Ripped

The shadows drop off a gift for Blitz. What looks to be a pristine western revolver, as if it were ripped straight from the old west.

Blitz's eyes widened. He had frozen at first, unsure whether or not he was about to have to fight a shadow--which, how the fuck did one even do that?--but when the gift appeared, he blinked and raised his hands to take it.

"What is... why is... is this from Eclipse?" he asked, hands closing around the weapon. It felt sturdy, heavy, and it looked like it might somehow have come from Earth, at least ten years ago... So how did someone get their hands on it now? Immediately loving it, the imp closed his claws around the weapon and hugged it to his chest.

"Tell him thank you. Please. I don't know what--I haven't done anything to deserve it? But--thank you."

If you will have me. Blitz didn't know what that meant, didn't understand what exactly Stolas wanted from him, and the impulse to assume something, to panic and just run with something, was strong. He quashed it, refusing--consciously refusing--to fall back into the old habits, to keep making the old mistakes, and forced himself to keep listening. When Stolas had hugged himself, it left Blitz's heart aching, because he could imagine, he could fucking imagine, how many times Stolas must have done that--how many times Stolas must have been the only one to hug him, the only pair of arms that wanted to hold him, always left to comfort himself alone.

Blitz shoved his hands into his pockets--then thought better of it and stepped over to wrap his arms around Stolas. Screw the height difference, he hugged what he could get, and he held on. Stolas needed that. He needed to be loved. He needed to be cared for. And Blitz needed to care. He couldn't pretend not to anymore, he couldn't pretend--fuck. He just couldn't pretend.

"I want whatever you'll give me, Stols. If that's... if you just want us to be friends, I'll take it. But what I really want is you. I want to be yours. Your stupid, lovesick, idiotic, unculture imp. And I want you to be mine. I want to--to find ways to convince you, somefuckinghow, that you are mine. That I want you. That I'm not gonna, not gonna just let go?" He tightened his arms. "Until you tell me to. I want to be together. Not just for fancy fucking, either. I mean together, together. Romantically. And I don't--fuck. I don't know how. But I want to learn. With you." He closed his eyes and rubbed his face against Stolas, having heard his own damn voice break. Fuck, Blitz, keep your shit together. Blitz hugged tighter, still.

"I don't wanna lose you. And I know I already did. But I just. I don't wanna lie anymore, either. I wanna tell you everything. And never be the reason you're unhappy anymore.

"I wanna be the partner who holds your hand proudly in public, and never cuts you down, never leaves you feeling unseen in your own life, or just... fuck. Fuck. I wanna be together--and I want to be good for you. Fuck, I want to be good for you." He didn't know if he ever could be, but Blitz would give his entire being to just trying, if Stolas wanted that.

A selfish wave of relief flooded him, and some of the tension leaved Stolas' frame. It wasn't fair to have wanted Blitz to himself during their separation, or maybe at all, and yet, he did. Still does, but that was a conversation for another time if they ever got it.

Stolas listens intently, giving Blitz a reprieve from the constant weight of his gaze by watching the path ahead. Though he stole glances any chance he could, unwilling to blink too often or let the imp out of his sight for a prolonged time. Everything between them felt suspended on a wire fit to snap at any moment. And if it didn't, they each held a pair of scissors, ready to cut it and each other loose.

It took so much willpower not to speak and interject, to correct Blitz or overlap his apologies with his own. Messy didn't begin to cover what any of this — of what they were.

He could fill the gaps between the stars and planets with everything he wanted to say. But would it be too much? Would he be too much? His hands link together, fingers grasping at each other with nervous excitement and uncertainty. At long last, the prince moves to step into Blitz's path, leaning down with a small smile. So much pain. There was an immeasurable amount of suppressed emotions and experiences between them both that could fill the world's oceans, he had no doubt.

❝ Blitzy — ❞ Stolas gives pause and shakes his head. One hand moves to rest on the imp's shoulder, the other to lift his chin to meet the owl's gaze. ❝ You think this is your fault, but it isn't. Not all of it. Please. . . . please do not bear the weight of it all without me. I was — I did some unfavorable things and. . . ❞ He trails off, beak clicking softly as he struggles to find the rest of his words. The problem wasn't that they weren't there; it was the struggle of unwinding them, untangling every thought and feeling from each other to form something coherent.

❝ You keep apologizing, but I could have stepped up too. I should have, sooner than I did, honestly. I hurt you too, and really I — it wasn't right of me, to bring up my feelings the way I did. Not so suddenly. Not like that. And I refused to give you a chance to properly take in what I was saying and suggesting. If I had just given you a chance to speak. . . ❞ It was his turn to withdraw, hands moving to his own arms, awkwardly hugging himself before falling to the prince's sides. He felt at odds with his existence, with the physical presence he held. It felt too small, and too much all at once.

❝ I care you for very much, Blitz. I just. . . want you to be aware of that. And to understand that I hold fault in what happened between us too. We. . . we hurt each other, unfortunately. But I — ❞ He sucks in a breath, head tipping to the sky instead, eyes closing. But when he speaks again, his gaze is back on Blitz.

❝ I still want to be a part of your life, and for you to be in mine, if you will have me. . . ❞

Fuck. Why was he always so nervous about this guy? Blitz's resentment faded away as this man erased any worries that this was just about class. Eclipse was nice. Genuinely nice. There was a reason people liked him. Shit, Blitz knew a sweet incubus named Yves who was head over heels for the guy, despite having never actually spoken to him... Which, the imp thought with sudden delight, was maybe a situation he could help with.

"You know, maybe in exchange for spelling lessons, I could give you something pretty valuable... like the phone number of a guy who thinks you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, but he's shy as shit. He's been through rough times recently--I can't say what happened to him, not my story to tell--but apparently he saw you and was like, magical Disney moment, sparkling hearts in the air, absolutely entranced. We talked about you for like an hour at a club recently. I tried getting him to man up and go find you, but he's like, you know. Like I said. Shy as shit. I mean, I'll ask him first, make sure he's cool with it, but like... you've got a secret admirer out there, and he's fuckin' cute.

"How you been, anyway?" He rubbed his face against Eclipse's hand, loving that this guy understood that petting was always a good idea, and felt himself relaxing, his blood pressure just easing off down to a calm, contented place it rarely was.

Beak was curled into a very knowing smirk. Eclipse knew he looked good, and he could see that moment of his tease getting to Blitz. He might be quick to hide it, but he saw right through that mask.

"Oh Blitz, you know you can just call me sexy." Though he did enjoy being called handsome. Resisting the urge to caress the imp's cheek as part of this little play. "Oh yes, that. I've seen how poorly you write. And your texts...from what I know, you grew up in the circus? So it makes sense for you to not have been properly educated."

A wing wrapped around Blitz as he was leaned on, not exactly cuddling, more a sign of comfort. Frowning a bit as he stepped away. "The offer was genuine. That kind of thing isn't a secret, so it's not like I'd be breaking the rules of my house by teaching you. And I have plenty of free time since my shadows do most of my work for me."

He reached out to rest his touch against their chin, smiling down at him. "I'm your friend, and I want to help. Just because I'm a Goetia, doesn't mean I think worse of you because of your upbringing." This coming from a Goetia who's looked down on by the others because of his upbringing.

"If you do well, I'll reward you with that whole...you holding something other than a pen, thing."

"Yeah, I mean. Why not? I've got the crystal now, and you--you've been kinda stuck for a long time, right? And shit's been--I mean. Shitty. With Valentino. I thought it might be nice for you to just feel alive again. Feel the real sunlight. And remember that you're not just someone who died. You came from all of this, you know? This world, created for you people. That body was made for you. You're beautiful in Hell. You know that. I know you know it. And I guess, maybe to me, it's hard not to think that maybe some of your beauty comes because you, you have like...

"I don't know. I'm not good at this words shit. But you have some sliver of Earth still in you. Some of that magic that this place has. I remember that you thought the aquarium was boring, so I could be way off, here," he admitted, "but to me, Earth seems magical. I wasn't born here. I wasn't born to live. I was born to serve. That's what all of my people are for. It's why we exist. We don't get an afterlife. We don't get to gamble everything on the hope of Heaven, only to end up powerful in Hell.

"You came from this. And you're stronger than it seems like you realize sometimes. And you... I don't know. I don't know what I'm even saying." Blitz sighed, but smiled. He glanced down, checking that his board tether was still firmly in place around his ankle, then slipped off of his board and just sank below the surface for a few minutes, needing a minute, needing to try and--try and what? Calm the fuck down? Center his thoughts? He didn't know, he didn't do this shit, he didn't overthink like this, he didn't take dead souls out for walks, or whatever the fuck he thought he was doing here.

He looked down into the darkness, into the depths of the ocean. The morning sun wasn't high enough to illuminate it, and so below him was nothing but black, an endless abyss--and he could feel someone's eyes watching, sense a familiar presence in those depths. Just the barest hint of it, but there all the same.

Blitz didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

He surfaced, climbed back onto his board, and nodded towards shore. "I'm gonna go walk around in the town. Or at least sit on the sand. You wanna come?" He had the absurd notion to offer to give Angel head once they were on the shore, to let Angel feel that kind of worship in his human body--but they weren't there yet, were they? Would that be weird to offer? Still, Blitz couldn't help but glance down at Angel's stunning body before quickly looking away. He didn't have red skin to hide his blushes now.

After clearing his throat, he laid on his board and started paddling for shore, falling into a natural rhythm, working with the waves.

"Maui." He's repeating, because it still feels like an absolute fever dream. And maybe it is. Maybe he's going to wake up in his room in theresort and this would all be made up. It would be an interesting dream, to say the least, but it wasn't like his brain hadn't come up with some other obscure thoughts before, especially after being dead as long as he has. And having Blitz be in the dream wouldn't be unusual either. Though if it was a dream, they'd definitely be making out.

Admittedly, he hadn't heard the imp's complete ramble about Pearl Harbor. Even if he had, he didn't know if he would entirely care, as bad as that sounded. Shit happened on Earth. People died. World War II was right before his death, and he had seen more than enough death at his own hands. His eyes only glanced towards the other at the mention of this working, how he hadn't known if it would. "...yeh' didn't know if this was gonna work. Have yeh'...have yeh' never done it before?"

His voice cracked a bit at that, a bit of concern in his eyes. What if it had killed them? For good? No, it hadn't. And he couldn't think like that. He was shaking his head loose, looking back over at the other, before his lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. "In shock? Otherwise, great. Peachy." He laughed, showing he was feeling more normal, though blue eyes were still looking at his hands. The slightly tanned skin, compared to the bright white fur he had been so used to for decades now.

"It's just....been awhile. Since ah've been...yeh' know." He gestured to his human form, though at least much like when he was Angel Dust, he wasn't embarassed that he was wearing pretty minimal clothing. He had been a spider longer than he had been a human, so it was all just readjusting, and he's pushing his curls behind his ears - oh thank fuck, he had ears again - blushing a bit and looking over at the other. "Yeh'....yeh' wanted t' do this....for....me?"

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.

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.”