Well, Shit. Asmodeus Was Precious When He Blushed, When He Responded Like A Precious Little Kitten To

Well, shit. Asmodeus was precious when he blushed, when he responded like a precious little kitten to flirtatious words. Blitz was a little taken aback, having not entirely been prepared for any of this to work. But now that it was working, now that he was getting somewhere with this, he found himself feeling surprisingly tender and protective towards the Sin. Because someone who reacted that positively and that quickly to a little bit of attention? Was someone who desperately needed the attention.

And that was something Blitz could understand. Game could recognize game, sure, but loneliness recognized loneliness so much more quickly, so much more deeply. However many lovers and followers Asmodeus had, someone in his life was leaving him lonely, leaving him craving attention, needing it. Needing something more.

Breaking all of the rules and completely abandoning any kind of common sense, Blitz climbed up quickly onto the nearest piece of furniture, so he could be at least somewhat closer to Asmodeus's face, and leaned up towards him, reaching out to take him by the jacket and tug him close.

"You got somewhere we can go?" he asked, voice softer than maybe it ought to be, eyes kinder, despite the firmness of his grip. If Ozzie wanted to be dommed, Blitz could do that--but he already knew he wasn't going to make it lustful. Not sexual. No. Maybe this sweet, lonely Sin needed to be the sole object of affection for once. At least, that's what the imp was reading here, and he was more than up to the challenge. It might be the worst mistake of his life, but damn it, he was going to fucking try. Seeing lonely people broke his heart. Maybe they could assuage that for each other, at least for a little damn while.

The purr of the others voice rang through his ears, it was beautiful. That simple sound was something he loved hearing. As he felt the other press a kiss to his palm, his eyes widened. A small blush forming across his cheeks after the other did this motion. The imp was very smooth, Asmodeus had to give him that and to think that the sin did find him attractive.

Now he was smiling too, the idea of his night being ruined in the best way possible? He could vibe with that. It was something that he felt very accustomed with. But the imp asking him what he wants? That was new. Something that he doesn't experience often when others want to hit on him. It made this even more interesting and he'd probably be leading Blitz to his room shortly. "I want to be the one who's being dominated." Asmodeus states. A bit quietly. He hopes that won't scare the imp away, however. But he's been wanting this for awhile and plus he can always make himself a bit smaller.

Everyone thinks that he likes being the one always taking charge. But that wasn't the case. In fact, after work he likes to be the one that doesn't have to take the lead or make the decisions. He's smiling in a silly manner as he chuckles. "You can't possibly tell me that you really just want to work with me? But if so, I might could make an exception."

He looks at the other and his cheeks flush once again. With the right words and talk like this he basically becomes so soft, like a kitten. "Relaxing, does sound nice."

Any second now and this whole hallucination was going to go up in smoke, or so Blitz kept telling himself. Any second now, and Angel Dust wasn't going to be standing here with him, chatting him up like Angel didn't have a million better prospects. Blitz wished he hadn't started drinking already this evening, wished that he was fully sober, because he was going to need to be sober to convince anyone at all that this had actually happened.

Including himself.

He watched Angel as the man moved and ordered his drink, taking in the outfit, the poise, the pose, all of it. The spider practically oozed an inviting mix of class and danger, and that was exactly Blitz's cup of tea, even if he didn't want to admit it. He had a type, and right now, that type was just a foot or so away from him, beautiful as could be, a cotton candy killer toying with him. Engaging with Angel Dust was probably a big mistake, but fuck it. What wasn't a mistake in Hell? Angel might have eternity to screw up, but Blitz was only going to live once.

He turned fully to face him as Angel addressed him again, and this time, Blitz's smile was less awkward than his first had been. He was calm now, settling down into the fact that this was happening, and already wondering what he could do with this man to leave Angel Dust feeling half as good as he looked.

"My name's Blitz. The O is silent." He offered his hand, grinning. "And it is a pleasure to meet you. Wish I could say I've seen all of your films, but I've been on more of an anthropomorphized lesbian horse kick recently; and yes, believe it or not, I do watch it for the plots." The imp's grin was broader now, brighter, as he warmed up to the situation and to Angel. "Are you here with someone? Or can you sit with me for a while? I can tell you all about TikTok and all the good gay Earth shit I've heard about recently."

Continued for @doublejango

Angel found his eyes sparkling instantly at what the other was saying to him, a devious smirk crossing his features. He certainly wasn't on the clock right now, nor was he in the studio to be forced into Val's contract. He just wanted a night of fun, on his terms, with someone who he chose. He didn't really know why he had been drawn to the imp, other than the rumors he had heard, which the guy was now confirming.

"What in the ever-lovin' fuck is Tiktok?" Damn, he really had been in Hell too long. He was the one that hung out around the social media juncture of the Pride ring most often, and maybe he had heard Velvette in passing talk about the thing, but he tended to ignore her entirely. Or be stoned out of his mind when he was working at Vee Tower in order to just get through the day.

Either way, he shook his head, leaning against the bar top that he had approached in order to start this conversation. "Trust meh', handsome, ah' can handle mah'self just fine. Ah' know my way around a gun. Or six." Which he had cleverly tucked next to his body, as he always did. He could blow someone up if he damn wanted to, but he wouldn't put Charlie through that again. Not since the turf wars with Cherri.

He flagged down the bartender with one of his arms, leaning over the bar in a seductive enough way that he was used to. Round of his ass pushed out and barely hidden in his short shorts, chest fluff more prominent in the legitimate boob window of his top as he leaned over, kicking one heel up in earnest as he waited for the martini to be brought over. He smiled, taking it with one of his free hands, before looking over coyly at the other demon.

"Damn, yeh' clearly a fan and don't know that ah' sing?" He blinked, finding himself a stool, one leg dramatically crossed over the other as he stirred the martini with one finger. "Ah' came out with a music video not that long ago. Ah' know the producers put out some really dark shit, but it ain't all bad. Maybe yeh' should give it a shot some time. Ah' can recommend some of my lighter films." A sip of his drink.

"So, do ah' get tah' know yeh' name if yeh' know mine?"

Angel's outfit inspo

[for @grimowled -- thank you for being down to do a thing!]

This was a bad idea.

At lest, that was what Blitz told himself. That was what he told himself every time he reached out to Stolas first, every time he answered a phone-call that wasn't likely to be strictly about their arrangement. Every time. And every time, he was right. It was a bad idea.

It was always a bad idea--because it was always a bad idea to fall in love, and an even worse one to try to pretend you hadn't. But if there was one thing Blitz was known for, it was bad ideas, so why stop now? Why stop now?

He'd spent the last few hours tossing and turning, trying to get to sleep, burrowing into the couch as deeply as he could get, burying his face into a throw pillow that he had wrapped one of Stolas's shirts (stolen) around, but it wasn't the same. The pillow was starting to smell more like Blitz than Stolas, and the couch knew he was full of shit, and nothing was really the same. Nothing was really the same when Stolas wasn't there next to him, when he didn't have his arms around his lover.

Who wasn't his lover. Because they weren't-- They couldn't-- Almost lover, then. Sure. Almost Lover. That was close enough, right?

All of that failure to sleep and now here he was, sneaking through Stolas's palace, familiar enough with it by now that maybe he didn't need to sneak, vaguely aware that Stolas probably had magic shit all over this place and knew the instant there was an intruder, not to mention that his freaky owl hearing could probably pick up on Blitz's heartbeat. Blitz had to try, because he had to give himself an out. As long as he didn't know that Stolas knew he was here--good logic there, absolutely--then he could still bail and run. He could still pretend he hadn't done all of this. That he didn't miss him. That he didn't need his warmth.

That he hadn't fucked up beyond words every single time he turned away from Stolas, every single time he went home without kissing him goodbye. Every single time he didn't smile when they saw each other.

He could pretend. he could lie to himself. And everything would be alright.

But he made it to Stolas's door without running. And having come that far...

Blitz stared at it for a long time, standing there, hand poised to knock, heart pounding harder than it had any right to. Dump or get off the pot, he told himself, and finally opened the door, letting himself in.

This was a bad idea.

It was also the only idea.

"Stolas?" Blitz approached the bed, his eyes still adjusting. "I know it's not the full moon, and it's--late. Really, really fucking late." What even was it, two, three in the morning? He rubbed at the back of his head. "But I was uh, wondering. If you'd be okay with me sleeping here. With you. I just--if--you know. If that's... fine."

Yeah. He was a regular damn Romeo.

for @questionablemuses -- because Mammon obviously needs to be harassed by a cranky imp with a chip on his shoulder, right? RIP them both xD

-

Alright. Well. Fizzarolli may have quit, so maybe Mammon wasn't really his boss anymore, but that didn't mean Blitz had just forgiven the big goddamn clown. Mammon might be charismatic to an extreme, but he was still a bastard. He had threatened Asmodeus there in front of an audience of thousands, and as long as Fizz was with that stupid damn chicken? Blitz wasn't going to let anything happen to them.

So. Clearly. Clearly. That meant it was time to find Mammon and put him the fuck down. The imp didn't know what it might mean to kill a Sin, what that might do to Hell, or if a Sin even could die, but he was fully prepared to find out. And after all of that shit that went down with those lunatics up at the Hazbin Hotel? Angelic steel was easier come-by than ever. Although none of his weapons showed, Blitz was armed to the damn teeth, as always--just, this time, his weapons carried a purpose of their own.

He could never, never tell Striker about this. Fuck that bitch anyway. He was next on the hitlist.

Blitz dressed down for the occasion, in torn-up black jeans, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket. Mammon looked like he was probably going to be a gusher, and all of the dry-cleaners near Blitz's house were starting to turn him away as a customer. Who woulda thought that there could be too much blood on one's clothes in Hell? Fucking prudes.

It was too easy to get access to Mammon's private quarters, but that was usually the way in Greed. The right combination of sneaking, bribery, and threats, and these fuckers folded like cheap Greed-KEA card tables. So, here Blitz was, about to quite possibly make the third biggest mistake of his life. He hesitated, his hand on the doorknob to Mammon's bedroom, thinking about the people he was very possibly leaving behind--

Fuck it.

They weren't going to miss him. Even Stolas would probably just roll his eyes at the stupid choice and forget he'd ever wasted time with a little red imp.

Blitz drew his pistol, held it low at his side, and let himself in.

"Mammon," he purred, calling out into the darkness. "Your staff's a bunch of bitches. Hi. You probably don't remember me, motherfucker, but I remember you."

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

And, really, what the fuck?

Blitz had been having a shitty fuckin' night, to say the least. He'd meant to be back in Imp City hours ago, but here he was, out of gas in this neighborhood. The fancy hotel was the only one around he was reasonably certain didn't have organ harvesters operating out of it. Sure, it had been a little odd when there was no one at the front desk, but it didn't seem like there were all that many folks here at all, for the matter. The tired, cranky imp had helped himself to a key selected mostly at random--it had more dust on it than the others, which had to be a good sign--and had strolled along like he owned the place.

By the time he got to the room, he had a bucket of ice in one arm and a bottle of shitty champagne he'd liberated from the bar tucked under the other. A quiet night alone in a hotel room... Maybe it wasn't ideal, but it might not be that bad! Bit of a vacation, really. Who didn't want that? So, humming to himself and already wondering what kind of channels they got here, he opened the door and--

Yeah.

What the fuck.

What the fuck.

There was an angry menace over there doing some Super Buffy the Winchester Shit, immediately snarling at him. Blitz winced and started to shut the door--

Before he recognized her.

His demeanor changed in an instant and he was suddenly grinning like a fucking menace himself.

"Hey, I remember you! You're that dick who sold me some shitty-ass potion. It tasted like ass and didn't even work. And I've tasted a lot of ass, so don't even try to tell me that it wasn't total trash." He walked in, kicked the door shut behind himself--aaaaaand wondered, looking around at all of the blood, if maybe he hadn't made some kind of mistake.

Nah. Screw it.

Blitz looked back at her, eyes narrowing slightly as he grinned even more. "It's like, Batty, right? Bathouse, Bath Enemy, something like that? Fancy seeing you again. You know, I'd say I like what you've done with the place, buuuut I don't." He looked for somewhere relatively less bloody to put the ice bucket and the champagne bottle down. "You could really use five minutes with a decorator, Jesus Christ. I know red is in these days, but fuck's sake. Blood's best when spattered sparingly. And what's with the incense? Or perfume, or whatever. Would it kill you to air this place out once in a while?"

THE ROOM WAS ABSOLUTELY DRENCHED IN BLOOD.

Betty didn’t frequently visit her own room often. Out and about gaining more victims clients with her black market completely reliable elixir business, she hardly had the time to pit stop the hotel and dilly-dally — not when there would always be more traction to gain, more folks to collaborate and work with.

And when she did return back to her hotel room, it was just to nap or train. If the vampire wasn’t venturing the streets of Hell, she was once again committing some heinous act of self experimentation to sedate that cynical portion of her maddened mind that wanted to stretch the limitations of immortality. Old habits die hard. What better way to feed into toxic curiosity than by putting your own body through the hardships of painful training?

Widened eyes suddenly shot toward the door as it was UNCEREMONIOUSLY THROWN OPEN, the already half-deceased undead locking eyes with the unwelcome visitor. Her blood magic was activated — two blood daggers sticking out of each arm, a sword lodged in her right leg, fangs bore, claws out, and her clothes practically torn to shreds by her own manipulated black craft. An axe was levitating mid air, seemingly sparring her. All at once, the weapons SPLAT to the floor in a puddle of her own blood.

“ — Excuse me? Do you not fathom the common courtesy of KNOCKING? This room is fucking taken. Go sleep in the storage room. “

Despite the grisly sight, her room has an odd scent of rich perfume. Lavishing indulgence, a strange aroma of flowery sweetness and strong tones — almost entirely out of place.

@doublejango

"Yeh' wanna watch mah' latest porno? Ah'd say it's one of mah' better performances." Winks. "Ah' can make some popcorn!"

Blitz started to answer, held up a claw, and stopped himself. The immediate answer that came to mind was crude, way too damn crude, and he didn't want to be that bitch. Angel Dust seemed like a nice guy, someone who really didn't deserve the shitty end of Blitz's personality. So, for once in his life, he tried to self-censor before he could actually hurt someone.

"Honestly, the shit Valentino's studio has been putting out recently really isn't my thing. I like your earlier work better, before things took a turn for uh, you know. Really dark? Nothing against you. You're a damn good actor. And, whooo! You got the looks. But I like a little more fluff in my filth. Real life gets shitty enough, quick enough. The uh, plots," he made finger-quotes around the last word, "that are all about you getting like... you know. Hurt. Or the ones that kiiiiiinda feel like they're leaving the first C off of CNC? Not my vibe." Hopefully that came off decently. He didn't want to be a dick, for once--ironic, when talking with a guy whose living was, well--

Yeah. Yeah. This was fine. Blitz tried to smile without it being complicated. He was in an empty sort of mood, and thinking about certain plots just added to that. So, he put it from his mind, finished his coffee, and stood up as he stepped away from the table. "But, shit. Meeting Angel Dust in a coffee shop. That's an AU and a half right there." He straightened his jacket, tail curling up in a happy arc behind himself as he then held out a hand. "Did we make this official yet? I'm Blitz. The O is silent. I heard there's a new aquarium just opened up here. You wanna go see it? There's a vampire squid exhibit, right?" There was no way Angel was just going to say yes to that, but shit, why not try, right?