Asmodeus Was Beautiful. That Shouldn't Be A Surprise, Not Really, But Somehow It Just Seemed To Suddenly

Asmodeus was beautiful. That shouldn't be a surprise, not really, but somehow it just seemed to suddenly click for Blitz just how stunning this demon was. He was the sin of Lust, but he was the embodiment of so much more than just a carnal appetite, wasn't he? He was yearning, he was desire. He was the thing, whatever mysterious thing it was, that made people even capable of craving. He was luxurious and luscious--

And adorable.

Look how he fucking blushed.

Blitz watched him with open appreciation, lust already starting to burn in his blood. Could Asmodeus feel that energy, he wondered? Feel the way Blitz's entire body was already starting to attune itself to him, to wanting him? Fuck, every time Asmodeus blushed, Blitz wanted to shove him down and bite him and tear him apart in the best way possible. When Asmodeus was naked, willing, and his, he shivered in delight. Watching him steadily, Blitz undressed as well... which, when he got to the point of actually removing his weapons, took a while. Holsters and harnesses were hidden all over his body, and by the time he was finished, he had left a not-insignificant pile of them on a chair.

"We can try heavier stuff," he agreed, walking around him. "I might not lean into it super hard tonight, because you're confident as fuck, but I'm still needing to get to know you." He trailed a hand over his beauty's body as he circled him. "And if we're too vanilla tonight, we can always get harder next time. And the time after that, and the time after that... assuming you still take my calls." Blitz was smiling when he said it, but when he spoke again, his voice was more serious, commanding:

"Get on your knees for me, baby. Please." He knew it was a simple start, but simple was how these things had to start the first time, while they got to know each other. While letting him do that, Blitz went and retrieved his belt. It was supple leather, worn and old, but it was strong. He took the buckle off and set it aside, then stepped behind Asmodeus.

"Cross your wrists behind your head."

He's beautiful, Blitz thought, soft and loving, despite the firm tone and low voice he was using with Asmodeus now. If nothing else, I want to make sure he feels beautiful by the end of the night. I want him to feel... like the dream he is.

Whenever he used his demon form more, it was normally all because someone he cared about was in danger. That was normally when he got angry. Otherwise he was probably one of the sweetest anyone would ever meet. But he still knew how to run his business and was incredibly smart in that aspect. Which why there was nights like these that he just wanted to be taken care of by someone and not have to think when being intimate with one another.

There's almost a small pout on his face as the other tells him that they weren't going to get into anything to heavy. He was the king of lust after all. Just because he didn't often be in a sub space, doesn't mean he wouldn't be open to trying new things out with Blitz. "Do you think we might could try some heavy things? I do make a lot of these kink toys after all." Asmodeus states. It was safe to say he's not tried everything out yet. He blushes a little at the way Blitz said that.

Of course he could handle things getting rough. Sometimes he likes it that way. Depending on the person anyway. He can feel his cheeks start to turn a light shade of pink. He's already enjoyed Blitz's kisses, so he has a feeling this will go well. If it does, he wonders if Blitz will choose to see him again. He hopes so. So far, he's really liking Blitz's company. What Blitz said right there only made his cheeks grow darker. It was way too sweet! It didn't take long for him to be kissing the other male back.

Kissing him was easy due to his smaller size now. It didn't feel like it had any bad intent behind the kiss either.

Asmodeus couldn't help but giggle a little at being nuzzled by Blitz. To him that was adorable. He'd happily allow the other to continue to do that to him. As Blitz goes on about how he should address him from here on out he nods a little. "Yes, sir." Asmodeus said. Blushing a little after he said it. Only because he wasn't super used to this quite yet. But he definitely didn't mind it. He nods again. Even after just meeting the other technically, he can tell that he can trust the imp.

He points toward the drawer that's closest to Blitz. "Yes, sir. I've got some right beside you. Always packed with them." Asmodeus said. It was easy for him to be, he was the sin of lust after all.

Whenever Blitz comes back over toward him, he wasn't expecting him to go straight for his lips. However, he doesn't mind it one bit. In fact he's welcoming it. He kisses the other back with just as much passion. As if the two of them have been lovers for a long time.

There's a nod before he begins to do as he's told. He takes a hold of his jacket that he's got on and dips one shoulder of the sleeve down, before doing the same to the other side. Now that the sleeves are sitting on arm, he removes the jacket completely allowing it to fall to the ground. Then he takes his shirt of next. Before reaching down to remove his pants and underwear too.

Every time i rewatch Blitzo’s hallucination sequence in Truth Seekers i notice more.

Like, on a base level-

The steps to Stolas are difficult and slippery to climb at first, but the path clears as he climbs.

Stolas’s positioning and framing not only call out their significant class differences but also frame Stolas in a sort of heavenly position, at the top of an elegant marble stairway to heaven. Furthering a few things- it posits Stolas as something unattainable, something holy, something that might lead to good, but also something too good for him?

As he climbs the steps he is cleaned of the grime of his previous guilt and he regains himself (loses his clown outfit and appears how he usually does)- but in doing so he also becomes shackled in golden chains to stolas.

The chains being a reminder of what he fears about any relationship including with stolas- being ‘shackled’ (commitment-related issues) and then also, specifically, and importantly here- being seen as just a plaything to stolas.

Stolas is the most clear and realistically depicted of the characters in Blitzo’s hallucination. Closer than even Blitzo himself. Every other figure of his life that comes to taunt him is distorted. Not even Moxxie, who is in the room with him, comes close- even after his depiction shifts, he is in drag. What does this say? I think in part it furthers the fact that Stolas here seems to represent a kind of escape for Blitzo from the torment of everything else (but at what cost- i.e. the shackles).

AND something ELSE i noticed is that on his forehead for the majority of the hallucination Blitzo’s forehead mark is a clear broken heart. But on the steps to stolas it returns to its usual appearance. This is another way in which he regains his usual self, but also, this change specifically could speak to the potential of his heart healing?

Blitzo of course does not appear to be comfortable in the dynamic that hallucination-Stolas has brought him into, once he reaches Stolas, but even still, he snaps at Moxxie, which reads to me as that he wants to stay undisturbed in the moment. Maybe he thinks that that sort of power dynamic is the best that he would ever get or deserve.

"You will always be beautiful, amorcito," Vox purred. This time, there was no mockery in the sound despite his somewhat mocking use of the term. His voice was warm, loving, and the tenderness in his expression was real. He had winced at the punch to his thigh--Val was every bit as strong as that muscular, glorious torso of his promised--but now, settling back down, it really didn't matter. He took the bag of ice, but took a moment first to look at the eye. Seeing how much it was already swelling, Vox winced again, this time with empathy for what his partner must be feeling. "Close both of your eyes and just try to relax. I've got you. Here." Once he thought Val was ready for it, he held the ice pack up to his eye, genuinely trying to be gentle about it. Tenderness might not be his strong suit, but when it came to Valentino...

When it came to Valentino, all bets were off. They always had been and they always would be. This man made Vox want so many things: to scream, to throw things, to be tender, to be loving. Val was a passionate foil, bringing out the best and the worst in people, and Vox had no intention of ever trying to be immune to him.

"And maybe you should try being nicer to Angel. Whatever has been happening between you two, when you hurt him--what if it makes him feel the way your pimp made you feel? I'm not sure Angel deserves that, baby." Vox sighed and dimmed his screen back down, and stroked Val's head with his free hand. "But speaking of him... You've never really told me all that much. Would you like to?" He didn't think Val really got flashbacks from the accidental hit, but all the same, if Valentino brought up his past? Vox wanted to give him the chance to talk about it, to open up. He wanted to be safe for Val. To be his peace, not another point of conflict or pain. "Because if you want to talk, I'm listening."

"Bad!" Valentino screamed back. He slammed his first down on something, it felt like his thigh, and he hated that he was temporarily blinded even more because he wished he'd hit a few inches up. Punch that prick in the prick! It's what he deserves to laughing. Despite the irritation, he allowed Vox to take him up in his arms. The only sinner in all of Hell to be able to baby someone nearly eleven feet tall. "Kitty!" He yelled, "Bring me an ice pack!" And the little custom-made FizzBot gave a salute before running off for only a few seconds, returning with a filled ice bag.

At this point, he slunk down to instead curl himself enough to lay in Vox's lap. Fuzzy moth paws hung from the edge but it was comfortable. He snatched the bag from Kitty and shooed her away with his hand. "Can you stop fucking talking for two seconds? You almost took my eye out, you plastic fuck." The light from Vox's screen hurt when he finally removed his hands from overtop his face. His vision was more blurred than usual, and it felt swollen, like his lid didn't want to open all the way up. Fantastic! "Is this what Angel feels like? Shit, maybe I should try to be nicer."

There was a pause. A moment where he looked solemn, but he wasn't able to hold the expression long; a smile cracked through, and he laughed a little. "It hurts like a bitch," he admitted. "I'm getting flashbacks to the fucker that use to own me. He'd beat my ass if I breathed too loud. I thought you were going to treat me better?" A little guilt along with a bruised thigh was probably enough punishment for such a transgression. He rolled over to face upward, look up at Vox with his busted-up face. He heaved a sigh. "Am I still beautiful to you?"

Why was that so fucking comforting? Several times, Blitz started to say something, but he stopped himself. What was there to say? That Stolas didn't have him? That wasn't fucking true. Blitz had crossed a line by coming here outside of their deal. He had just changed the rules, and he didn't want to go back on that. He didn't want to turn away from Stolas again. Sometimes... sometimes, he got the feeling Stolas was stalking him, obsessing over him. Sometimes, that pissed him off.

But sometimes, like right now? It felt like the safest goddamn thing in the world. To be wanted by someone so dangerous and so beautiful that they could have anyone in the world was a terrifying thing, because it meant he could so easily be replaced, but to be the object of an obsession? Fuck, there was safety there. There was safety there, and comfort, and as Blitz thought about it, he hugged Stolas tighter, as tightly as he could. No matter how hard he squeezed him, he knew it would never actually do him any harm, and there was comfort in that, too. He couldn't hurt Stolas. Not physically. Stolas could destroy him, in any way he chose to, and yet he chose not to. He just... let Blitz into his bed. Let him snuggle in against those velvet feathers, let him pretend it was safe here, home here.

Because Stolas was smart, Blitz realized. Smart enough to know that Blitz wasn't really pretending. Not anymore. That maybe he never had been, and--

The thought hit hard. Choking up, he pressed his face into Stolas's chest for a long moment, then finally sighed and forced himself to relax. "I don't want to be away from you, Stolas," he finally said. "Whatever that... whatever it means to you. I don't-- I don't like. Trying to fall asleep without you in my arms. Without you there, breathing beside me. I fucking... I know it's dumb and gay and shit, but I fucking... I want us to..." He had to swallow back a wave of emotion that tried to choke him, and squeeze his eyes shut so tears wouldn't come. "I want us to belong. To each other. You probably--don't. I don't know what you... but I miss you. When you're not with me. I miss you so, so fucking much."

IT SEEMED LIKE AN ETERNITY had passed between his irresistible invitation and blitz actually taking him up on it; there was something about his imp tonight, something that made him observant, pensive and cautious - but lacked the dangerous flightiness that he normally cloaked himself with.

no, blitzø was willingly shedding all of that along with his clothes - unceremoniously so, but no less of a feast in the greedy owl's piercing red eyes. he took his time to map every detail, every unspoken and unspeakable secret carved in his lover's strong and beautifully scarred form, for he could see what others couldn't when the cloak of night fell and concealed all things. how could he not take in a sight he'd sinfully indulged in so many times before? and yet this time it felt palpably different - there was an eerie calm in the stillness of night, a touch of vulnerability in that disrobing and no heady, desperate rush to get inside each other's bodies, to tear skin in scratches and bite down on flesh, to fight and fuck until completely spent and a crumpled mess of tangled limbs.

"I wasn't sleeping."

he stated matter-of-factly in a silky murmur, as his lover settled and moulded himself to the cradle of his long, feathered arms - close close close to the toll of his beating dark heart; an unhallowed sanctuary for two damned souls, quietly breathing each other's air, laying on the fiendish and familiar altar of the demon prince's bed.

(oh, if he could cut up his chest and pull his ribcage around him, as if it were a pair of skeletal wings!)

shyly, uncharacteristically so, did the imp's tail creep up his feathered thigh, eliciting a lovely sigh from a parted beak right against blitzø's horns, unable to resist showing pleasure at the intimate gesture - not of the sensual kind, but something deeper, still, scratching at the confines of his mind like something begging to let out. not yet, not yet... oh, but he hungrily fed on the object of his singular obsession, like he always did. the eldritch monster inside huffed and heaved, inhaling the emotion-laden storm clouds gathering around the imp, and leaving stolas to wonder about the mysterious source of that constant, agitated distress that ever clung to the hellborn like the sweet scent of decay. blitzø was by no means a simple creature despite appearances - he was a truly damned soul, battered and embittered and beautifully broken, a pure form of loathing filling his cracks.

(his imperfect, perfect creature ...)

"--I got you now."

the statement demanded no explanations, no need to pry with words when the creature in his arms was so easily startled by tenderness; and got him he did - there was no escaping the bittersweet prison of the dark prince's devotion now.

One of those inevitable moments in life where you're so happy, maybe the happiest you'll be, and you don't realize it in time...

do you think we’ll ever see them make out like this again

Fuck, why was Moxxie the kindest damned soul? Blitz didn't feel like he had anywhere near enough emotional strength left for a conversation like this. He'd already collapsed once tonight, when he fell to his knees in the alleyway and tried to beat a brick wall senseless, and then maybe again here. He was so goddamn tired that all he wanted was to find somewhere to hide for a few days and just sob or sleep or sob and not sleep, maybe find some darkness to stare into... But Moxxie wasn't going to let that happen. Clearly. Moxxie was a like a star. A real star, something brilliant and sweet and usually so untouchable--

But he was right here.

Blitz looked down at their hands, his eyes half-lidded, then sighed. It would be easy, right now, to dismiss all of this, to say something shitty, put on a grin, and make all of this not matter, rip the meaning away, rip away the weight, and pretend the pain of such a choice was somehow more bearable... but Moxxie deserved better. Moxxie always deserved better.

Gentle as could be, he squeezed Moxxie's hand back, then met his eyes, remembering. There was so much about that night in the jail that would haunt Blitz forever--the truths he had seen in Moxxie's eyes, things he'd recognized immediately from his own experiences, the fragile edges of things trying to come back together that could be torn so easily...

He knelt. Both knees. Still holding Moxxie's hand, eyes closed now, head bent. When he spoke, his voice was oddly gentle, sincere.

"Moxxie. No matter what. Nothing, nothing could have made me leave you behind that night. You're a good person. And even if... even if somehow, leaving you behind would have made everything else better somehow, I wouldn't have. Even if it hurts, knowing how much of a... disappointment I've been to you. It's been worth it. Every second. Having you here. Knowing you're safe. I'm sorry for--sometimes obsessing over that. There was--

"When it happened to me, there was no one who cared enough to stop it from happening again," he said, alluding out loud to the thing they never actually spoke about, an understanding that had always felt too cruel to just bring up. Blitz looked up now, eyes sad, sincere, and covered his other hand over their joined ones. "It made money. I hated it, but money was all that asshole calling himself my father cared about. Fizz knew, I think. He never asked, but when I'd get back and scrub and scrub, he figured it out. But he couldn't do anything. He was on thin ice as it was, always afraid of... not being good enough. That if he took a single wrong step, all stability would come crashing down around him. Barb thought it was funny, when I tried to tell her. And then I realized how... alien the idea was. That she and I didn't live in the same world.

"But you and I--we do. And I hate it. I hate it. And always have. I want you to be safe, Mox. And to know, to never even have to doubt for a single fucking second, that you're...

"That you're wanted. Not just by your wife, but by your other family, too. This dumb asshole who would gladly kill anyone and everyone if it meant keeping you safe." Blitz sighed, closed his eyes again, and shook his head. "I'll do better, Moxxie. I can... always. Do better." The last statement made his throat feel tight, but the promise was a true one, and some promises had to be made.

It was all he had ever wanted to hear from Blitzo. An apology. Acknowledgement that Blitzo had crossed boundaries. Validation.

But it was all wrong. Blitzo was not supposed to be dejected like this. Not so broken and at the end of his own rope that he was experiencing ego death to say it. Moxxie could not then enjoy the moment. 

But nor was he someone to lie just to soften things. “Those things are true…” he admitted. “But it doesn’t mean you deserve to feel like this, Blitz. I hope you know that. I don’t want you to feel bad. Hey…c-can I tell you something?”

He stepped a little closer, looking at the bloody handkerchief.

“When you showed up in jail… I think… I think you…” it was hard to admit it. “Well, you made a big difference for me. I’m here now because of you.” Now he was swiping a tear from his eye. “You’ve been a good friend, Blitz. You were there for me when no one else was. You gave me hope, saved me. You’re not perfect. But that’s okay. We all need to work on ourselves. Maybe little by little…” he took Blitz’s hand “with time. It stops hurting as much. I know…for me it’s been that way. I can’t erase the pain of the past but the more of the present I live, the further away that pain is. I’m here. Millie’s here. Loona’s definitely here. We’re not going anywhere. We’re like family.”

He didn’t let go of his hand, hoping the sign of affection showed he was sincere.