Chapter Text
Blitzø was, of course, beyond used to Stolas’ weird ass, horny, rambling texts and calls. Hell, he had an hour allotted in his daily schedule expressly FOR receiving correspondence from the stupid bird.
So why, then, did the single message he received at 9 AM on the dot cause the spines on his back to raise? Why did he feel such a strong sense of foreboding?
Stols: Hello Blitzy! I am in dire need of my Grimoire, as something came up. I am so sorry for the inconvenience. Please come by the palace to deliver it to me as soon as you receive this message. I eagerly await your arrival.
…what the fuck?
Blitz: why tf cant u jus tportl to offuce?
Blitzø stared at his phone screen, tapping his foot impatiently—and definitely NOT anxiously, fuck off—as he waited for a response. He watched the “typing…” indicator appear and disappear for about forty-six seconds (but who was counting, really…) before a second message from Stolas came through.
Stols: I’m afraid I’m a tad tied up at the moment, but I promise to make the trip worth your while, Blitzy ;)
Alarm bells continued to ring loud and clear in Blitzø’s mind. His gut was telling him something wasn’t right, and one does not become a successful assassin without learning to trust their intuition. It would suck ass to lose out on the revenue of a work day, but hey. If it turned out to be some stupid fucking booty call, he could always force Stolas to reimburse IMP for the loses.
Mind made up, Blitzø sighed and pocketed his phone. He grabbed the book from his safe and sauntered into IMP’s lobby, attempting to relax his posture and seem nonchalant, if not slightly annoyed. However, anxiety continued to fester just beneath his skin, and he was unsure if he’d be successful in concealing it.
In the lobby, he found the usual scene: M&M cozied up on the couch, chatting about whatever the fuck and drinking coffee out of two of their bajillion gross couple mugs while his Loonie sat behind her desk, tapping away at her phone.
“Okay gang, change of plans. We’re dropping by Stolas’ place, he needs the book for some fucking reason and is being too much of a lazy prick to come get it himself, so we’ll be playing delivery service today.”
Moxxie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose like he somehow already had a headache, Millie gave Blitzø an odd, slightly concerned look, and Loona groaned.
“Sir, I swear to Satan if this is some weird sex thing, we don’t–”
“Oh, you fuckin’ wish , Moxx–”
“Actually, I believe I just expressly stated I DON’T wish–”
“Is something wrong, B?” Moxxie and Blitzø’s argument was stopped by the female imp’s interjection. She was staring at her boss carefully, very clearly looking for—or at—something. Blitzø involuntarily shrunk away from her attention, holding the book ever-so-slightly closer to his torso as if to shield himself from her.
“I mean… I dunno, Mills. It could just be some perverted shit he wants to get up to. But something is telling me it isn’t. I mean, Stolas can handle himself, I don’t need to be worried. It isn’t a big deal. It isn’t like– I don’t– I’m not worried about–”
“Blitz, take a deep breath. You don’t gotta explain yourself, we’ve got your back no matter what!” Millie stood, pulling her husband up with her and giving him a pointed look. “Right, Moxx?”
“...yeah. We do.” Moxxie gave Blitzø a rare, reassuring smile. Blitzø allowed himself a moment to wonder how a fucked-up clown like himself got so lucky before he shook his head and cleared his throat, turning to look at Loona. Surprisingly, the hellhound was already looking up at them.
“Loona, do you know if Via is with her dad this week?”
“Nope, it’s her week with her mom. They’re staying with her uncle or some shit.” Blitzø nodded. Good, at least that meant Stolas’ kid was out of harm's way. If there was any harm.
…God, please let there be no harm.
⭑ ୨୧ ⭑
The ride to Stolas’ estate was quiet and filled with tension. Blitzø had given everyone a brief rundown as to why he felt that something about the whole situation was fishy, and he could tell that, while the others trusted him, they weren’t nearly as concerned. It frustrated Blitzø immensely, and the fact that he was so upset just served to make him MORE upset.
Stupid fucking worthless ass feelings.
As they pulled up to the manor, Blitzø scoped it out, looking for any signs that something was awry. So far, nothing. Once they were parked, Blitzø handed the Grimoire to Loona before addressing the crew.
“‘Kay, here’s the plan. I’m gonna go in and check things out. If I don’t come out or message in ten minutes, M&M, come in for backup. Loona, you stay here and keep the book safe.”
Loona rolled her eyes, but grumbled an agreement. Moxxie gave a thumbs up, and Millie a firm, ‘You got it, boss!’
Now, at this point, Blitzø could’ve just gone through the front door. Stolas had told him time and time again that there was no need for stealth, that he would always be welcomed into the prince’s home with open arms, but hey. Old habits die hard, and Stolas hadn’t been wrong about Blitzø’s penchant for making a dramatic entrance. So, Blitzø made his way to the shrubbery below Stolas window and, with all the precision and skill of a current assassin and ex-circus performer, swiftly made his way up the wall of the palace and onto the owl demon’s balcony which was, as usual, unlocked.
“Stolas..?” Blitzø said as he poked his head inside the entryway, scanning the bedroom. As he did, he felt his stomach drop. Oh fuck.
There were books and candles knocked over around the room, obvious signs that there had been a fairly violent struggle not too long ago. However, Stolas himself was nowhere to be seen. Blitzø’s heart leapt into his throat, and HE leapt into action.
“STOLAS?!” Blitzø was sprinting through the palace halls, skidding to a stop at every door to listen for a second before inevitably continuing onward when there was no sign of the prince.
Well, until there WAS. Down the third hall Blitzø entered, the one he knew contained Stolas’ study, the imp heard groaning he’d heard before. Usually, he loved those noises. Not now, though. Not in this context.
Blitzø followed the noise to the aforementioned study, and he unholstered his flintlock before slamming his shoulder into the door, forcing it to swing open. He stood in the doorway, gun aimed straight ahead as he scanned the scene.
His blood ran cold, and time seemed to slow for a moment. Stolas was there, alright. His wrists and ankles were bound way too tightly with rope that seemed to be enchanted somehow. The owl demon was unconscious, bloody, bruised, and beaten. His customary royal regalia was in shambles. And Blitzø didn’t have to wonder who the perpetrator was, for Stella Goetia was sitting in the armchair in the leftmost corner of the large room, with crossed legs and a smug smirk on her face. Her lips were moving, but the ringing in Blitzø’s ears prevented him from making out whatever worthless drivel she was spitting.
“–prised you don’t seem to enjoy seeing him like this, I figured you’d like seeing him all trussed up like the disgusting fucking slut he is.”
Just like that, all of his senses came rushing back to Blitzø times a thousand. He started to shake, his breathing picking up as tears started to well in his eyes.
“STOLAS!” The imp screamed, the name ripped from his lungs as he ran to Stolas, dropping to his knees beside him. His hand trembled as he grabbed Stolas’ thin wrist as gently and as quickly as he could, searching for his pulse. He relaxed just a tad when he found it, still strong despite Stolas’ rough state. With that sorted, he momentarily set his pistol beside himself and used both hands to carefully maneuver the owl prince onto his lap. He placed Stolas’ head in the crook of his neck, allowing him to feel the other demon’s shaky exhales and inhales. He held him there with one hand gripping the back of his head tightly, yet tenderly, and wrapped his tail protectively around him.
“Fucking pathetic man, and an even more pathetic, deformed freakshow of an imp. How deliciously ironic. I’d find it humorous if it were not so utterly disgusting.” Blitzø heard Stella's legs uncross, and he heard her stand. She took a step forward. “Though, I have to say, I do quite like this look on hi–”
At lightning speed, Blitzø had grabbed his flintlock pistol again, cocked it, and aimed it directly at Stella’s head, finger ready on the trigger. And while the rest of his body was still trembling, he forced his shooting arm to remain steady.
“TAKE ONE STEP CLOSER TO HIM, AND I’LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT!” Blitzø shouted, his voice laced with nothing but pure hatred and deadly seriousness. To his dismay, Stella only cackled.
“Oh yes, shoot me. Stolas and Octavia would only hate you for taking away her mother, and the Ars Goetia would have your head, you fucking imbecile. Use whatever little brain you have up there and hear me well: you will NEVER be able to keep Stolas safe. You have made many powerful enemies, Blitzo. No matter what you do, no matter how many assassins you and your lowlife ‘employees’ manage to take down in the meantime, one will inevitably succeed. I am not here to murder you or Stolas. I simply wish to remind you that you are nothing, just as he is. There will always be more assassins. More blessed rifles. It is merely a matter of time, and I will see to it personally that every goddamn moment of that time is riddled with agony.”
Stella reached the door, and turned back once more, a look of disgust and perverse glee on her face as she reached into a pocket on her dress, pulled out Stolas’ phone, and threw it to the imp’s feet.
“It is what you both deserve. You’ll pay for everything.”
Blitzø was numb as Stella left. Numb as IMP eventually found their way to him and Stolas. Numb as he continued to hold Stolas and weep silently, staring blankly ahead.