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Chapter Text

Blitz barely heard the horn blaring after a minute of his head leaning on the steering wheel. The sound was drowning out everything, the sound of the partygoers outside laughing, buying shirts printed with the message to quite literally off himself, the incessant knocking and yelling of humans talking about “noise complaints”, and most importantly, drowning out all his stupid, incessant, endlessly repeating thoughts.

He was done. So fucking done. He already knew he was a shit person; he knew it, but… seeing all those people… seeing Stolas, fuck, hearing Stolas, it was just becoming crystal clear how much damage he was dealing to the world just by being in it.

He lifted his head off the steering wheel, silencing the horn and looked down at the dashboard numbly.

Could he somehow just…opt out of his existence without making a scene? Could he just be fucking done?

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the windshield, and he sighed, rolling his eyes and tilting his head up to look at what he assumed would be a very annoyed and probably very ugly human leaning on the van.

“Yeah, I get it already; I’ll move the…” but the rest of the words stopped dead in his throat as he found himself looking straight into the self-satisfied smirk of a tall white peacock. The goetia rested his chin on one hand, elbow perched on the hood, white waving his weird little bird fingers at him with the other.

“Oh fuck,” Blitz whispered even as he felt the seat of the van disappear under him. He heard the tell-tale staticky sound of a portal crackling around him, and then everything went black.

As far as blitz was concerned, the first several moments of consciousness always sucked no matter what the situation. He had woken up after enough shitty nights with bad booze and worse sexual partners, as well as enough (less but enough) good nights with fancy ass drugs and hot pieces of ass, to know that waking up, for him, was always going to be the fucking worst.

If he was lucky, it was just the physical pain: familiar aches, stiff limbs, pounding headaches, but if he wasn’t lucky, and when the fuck was he ever lucky, there was the crushing wave of loneliness, depression, self hatred, and various other mental torments ready to crash down on his head as soon as he opened his damn eyes.

Today, Blitz was definitely not lucky.

Everything hurt head to toe, and his skin felt like it was burning, stinging, all over, and something was very, very wrong. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, but that tide of dread and panic was washing over him, and he felt himself trembling with fear.

Which was…odd. Usually he could keep control of his body no matter how scared shitless he was, but then he realized it wasn’t the fear making him shake; he was absolutely freezing. He tried to open his mouth to curse, but a pathetic little groan and chatter of his fangs were all that came out. What the actual fuck had he done last night?

Blitz’s eyes shot open to see a wall of what seemed like solid ice as he started to remember, each memory feeling like a fucking blow to the chest: going to that party, his party, where everyone was there to talk about what a piece of shit he had been, currently was, and always, always, would be…Everyone there hating him, including that fucking gorgeous, obnoxious, drunk, perfect bird. Blitz slowly pushed himself to a seated position, trying to ignore how hard his arms were shaking.

“Oh so you’re awake. I was starting to think the fall had killed you…”

Blitz twisted his aching body to see who had spoken; it was the poncy white peacock demon again. He was leaning against the wall of the cell, grinning, one hand supporting his elbow while the other perched delicately under his chin.

Blitz squinted and frowned at him, trying to force his teeth to stop chattering long enough to speak, “Stolas’s…brother in law? An…Antonio?”

The peacock immediately dropped his arms and balled his hands into fists by his side, scowling at Blitz,

“Andrealphus, you…you absolute waste of space.” He paused and closed his eyes, turning his head from Blitz, seemingly regaining his composure, “But sadly, you are technically correct about my relationship to that embarrassment of a prince. For the moment, at least,” he sneered, and Blitz grimaced.

What the fuck did this guy even think he was doing? The work was sloppy at best. Kidnapping him topside on Halloween to…what…bring him back to his ice dungeon? He was obviously trying to sound intimidating, but Blitz was pretty sure the peacock was wearing a damn tiara. And why was he just standing in the cell? Had he been watching Bitz sleep? Fucking creepy.

“Cool, cool, but what the actual fuck does that have to do with me?” Blitz said, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to look like someone not freezing their dick off, “also did you steal your crown from Miss Imp City cause, and I have to be honest here, it’s beautiful but way too small for your…”

Blitz choked on his words as Andrealphus' hand glowed blue and closed tightly around his throat, lifting the imp by the neck, and pinning him against the frozen wall several feet in the air. Blitz wheezed and fought for air, his feet kicking divots into the ice.

“That half-wit may have set an unfortunate precedent with you, letting you run your filthy little mouth however you please around him,” the peacock spat, squeezing his hand tighter while Blitz clawed frantically at the peacock’s manicured talons, black spots starting to encroach on his vision.

“But by the time I’m through, both of you will know your place. And I, for one, will have no trouble reminding you what you are…” Blitz felt the pressure release on his neck all at once and his body came crashing to the ice below, “trash,” the goetia finished quietly, and as Blitz looked up at the scowling face above him, a morbid feeling of relief washed over him.

Maybe Blitz would finally get what he deserved.

Chapter Text

Blitz looked up at Andrealphus dazedly as he felt the start of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Another handsome royal bird to make his life hell. Of course. Of fucking course.

It was so cold it was getting hard to breathe, and he winced when he felt the cuffs made from ice form around his wrists and pull his hands up above his head, the cold burn cutting through his gloves.

“So are all you bird fuckers kinky, or is it just the royals?”

He had meant to sound unbothered, cavalier even, but the uncontrollable shaking in his voice, and the sound of his fangs chattering together was ruining the effect.

That and the fucking chains rattling against themselves as his body shook, the tremors getting more and more violent. Fuck that was so embarrassing. It hurt, and it was embarrassing. He wished it just hurt. Hurt was easier.

He gritted his teeth together, willing them to be still. It wasn’t working.

He did his best to take a breath, to force himself to regain his composure, to be calm. If he baited this asshole just right, if he did his obnoxious piece of shit routine real fucking good, then this guy was probably gonna do his job for him. Eh, fuck it; he always was a lazy piece of shit…

Then Andrealphus’s ugly mug was down next to his face, his body far too close for comfort, while his hand gripped Bltz’s chin, claws digging into skin that felt like it was about to freeze solid.

Blitz tried to ignore the fact that he was literally shaking in the bird’s grasp, instead giving him the best approximation of a shit eating grin he could manage in his current situation.

Andrealphus responded by squeezing Blitz’s jaw tighter, and fucking why did that hurt so much? Blitz couldn’t help but kick his feet out weakly against the icy floor as he realized those claws were getting colder and colder, causing stabbing pain to shoot up from the roots of his fangs.

“We’ll see what that deviant little failure of a prince says when he sees what I’ve done to his favorite plaything…” Andrealphus said with a note of triumph to his voice, tilting his head as if to assess Blitz’s reaction.

Blitz just looked at him blankly. Wait…what? He was being held for…ransom or some shit? To get to…Stolas?

Before Andrealphus could say another word, Blitz broke into absolute hysterics. He couldn’t remember the last time anything made him laugh like that. He tried to take a shuddering breath to compose himself, but when he saw the look on Andrealphus’ face, he lost it again.

“You kidnapped me from a…anti me party to try and ransom me to the fucking…” he gestured about with one of his bound hands like he was trying to find the right words to describe the absurdity, “fucking guest of honor? The new president of the I hate Blitz club?”

He thought for a second he might actually pass out from a lack of oxygen; his ragged breaths forming little clouds in the freezing air. Of course this would be how he would go…laughing to death at his own fucking pathetic life.

Blitz didn’t notice when Andrealphus reached his thin arm out and flicked a sharp talon against the very tip of Blit’s right horn, sending an agonizing, shooting pain straight through his head. It felt like his head was going to cleave in two. Fuck, the tips of his horns were stating to freeze. Blitz didn’t even know that was possible, but the look on the bird’s face demonstrated he sure as shit knew.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about that ugly little owl,” Andrealphus continued, “it’s his absolute lack of good sense or good taste. Maybe he has finally thrown you in the dumpster where you belong,” he continued, shrugging an elegant shoulder, “but I’m not convinced you're of no value to us yet. I’m sure there was some reason he kept you around as long as he did…”

Blitz scowled. They were getting further away from the goal here. This bird brain was venturing into territory that he really didn’t want to go into…ever.

Yes, yes, he was garbage, trash, the broken sex doll that the prince threw away, blah blah blah…There wasn’t a nasty thing this asshole could say to him that he hadn’t told himself ten times over, but it would be really great if he didn’t have to hear it all again from the ugly beak of this oversized chicken.

“Yeah, well it’s between my legs, and he’s got plenty of fuckers drooling all over him now, so unless you want sloppy seconds with this plaything, I’m really not sure what we’re doing here, asshole…”

Andrealphus smirked and snapped his fingers with a burst of blue light. Blitz heard the sound of tearing cloth before he felt the fabric pulling away from him and saw the pitiful pile of his clothes lying in a crumpled heap in front of him next to Andrealphus’ feet.

It wasn’t like his clothes were that warm, but he was not proud of the pained sound he made when he felt the ice on his bare skin.

“Really?” The goetia mused, “I don’t see anything much here? Certainly nothing worth fussing about.”

Ouch.

Blitz rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the stinging that was starting to act up behind his eyes. Fucking damn it.

“That’s not…that’s not how imps work, dumbass. Anyway, it’s colder than your sister’s cunt in this place.”

That earned him a quick kick to the stomach with the tip of a pointed little goetia shoe.

Blitz coughed and spit on the frozen ground next to him. Now they were back on track.

Satan, he wished he still had his fucking gloves. The burn of the ice on his wrists was becoming unbearable, and he flexed his fingers, wondering how long before he lost feeling in them completely.

Andrealphus looked down at his shoe, raising his eyebrows. That motherfucker was looking to see if he scuffed his shoe, wasn’t he? The goetia raised a lazy hand, and little blue light sparkled in a circle as a portal formed in front of Blitz’s face.

“Oh that reminds me, someone has been eager to speak with you,” Andrealphus drawled, smiling smugly to himself.

A figure started to appear through the icy surface of the portal, and for one horrible, wonderful second, Blitz thought it was Stolas’s face coming into view. Why, why did that make his heart feel so fucking…warm? That thought evaporated; however, as Stella’s face swam into view in front of him.

“Oh, fuck me.”

Chapter Text

“Ugh, Andrealphus, really?” Stella glared at Blitz with absolute disgust. “I really have no desire to look at it more than I have to.”

Blitz rolled his eyes, and gestured down vaguely, “look princess…we’ve already established here that I’m a grower not a shower so…”

Stella cut him off with a shriek, “Andrealphus! Why?! Why is it talking? Just kill it and be done with this mess altogether.” The portal in front of Stella widened as though it was a doorway to enter the prison cell, but she took a step backwards with a disgusted look.

Andrealphus sighed dramatically.

“Stella, if we kill him we lose our best way to control that pesky little husband of yours,” Andrealphus said sweetly as though convincing a petulant child. Blitz was starting to wonder if that’s exactly how Andrealphus felt dealing with his sister.

Stella looked Blitz up and down, still standing in the portal. She wasn’t in the palace Bliz mused absent mindedly, some other fancy ass looking room.

For a second Blitz wished she was in the palace. Maybe Stolas would be there. Maybe he could…no…that was stupid. He was stupid. He could see his skin getting so pale he was starting to almost look human colored (fucking ew); his muscles were starting to stiffen; and every place his skin was forced to touch the floor and walls of the cell was burning with searing cold, and yet he was still thinking of that bird? Wishing he could see him…hold him..make sure he wasn’t hurt or in danger or…no. Absolutely not.

Focus on yourself, he told himself as harshly as he could, the words taking on the familiar sound of his father’s voice. Nobody is going to come save you. Either get out or get dead. He could vaguely hear the sound of the two bird demons squawking next to him. It was getting hard to think, and he was shaking so hard he was pretty sure soon he’d lose the ability to run his mouth altogether. Fuck when was the last time that had happened?

“Besides,” Andrealphus went on, smiling smugly, drawing what looked like glowing blue writing in the air with his fingers “don’t they always say that revenge is a dish best served cold?”

Blitz gagged. “Ugh…no, that’s it” he said through gritted teeth “if you…don’t kill me…then I will.”

Andrealphus smirked at his sister and turning back towards Blitz flicked his wrist and pushed the glowing letters in Blitz direction. Blitz couldn’t make out the backwards writing as it drifted towards him, but he felt them when they hit his chest.

Suddenly, he was back in the fire. That burning. That pain that was the worst he’d ever felt because it just wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t relent no matter what he did. The pain that screamed through every bit of him and never ever ever let itself be forgotten or eased for even a moment. He heard himself gasping then. When did breathing get so hard? He could tell he was crying, but it hardly sounded like him anymore.

“Oh you’re so right this is fun” he heard a voice say. Oh right, Stella was here. At least the cold was starting to numb him just a little. “Ooh I’ve thought of a good one. Let me; let me.”

He felt himself be dragged back to horrible, frighteningly clear consciousness as another brand went into his hand.

“Now, you’ll be reminded of your place every time you’re tempted to put those dirty little claws where they don’t belong.”

There was a terrible sound, and he wanted to politely tell whoever it was to fuck off, before he realized it was his own voice screaming something.

Was he back in the fire? Was he going to get to help Fizz this time? It was all getting kind of mixed together. That’s right, Fizz hated him. No wait, that was Stolas now…right?

He felt more branding, more pain. Always hitting on the flesh where his scar tissue wasn’t. What would he look like now? He couldn’t even try to open his eyes from the pain crushing down on all sides of him. What shriveled, scarred waste of a body would they send back to Loona? Would they send him back to her? Would he even want her to see what was left of him?

He could tell though that Andrealphus was going on about something now; his poncy little voice sounded so proud of himself, “...who you belong to. So I want you to confess to us right here. Did you ever love that ugly, stupid, worthless little man?”

Blitz almost laughed. It was absurd. This whole thing. The final fucking performance of Blitzo Buckzo. What was the goddamn point to this? He tried his best to get a sentence out without sobbing.

“What…the fuck..does that matter…yeah, obviously…I loved him…still love him… you dumb cunts…”

Everything hurt, but it was hurting less by the second as he felt himself slipping out of consciousness. He hoped it was the end, but deep down he knew it wasn’t. He wasn’t feeling very fucking lucky today.

Blitz’s head dropped down onto his chest. He didn’t see Andrealphus turning smugly towards the second portal in the room, rolling his eyes at the owl who was yelling noiselessly and hitting his fists against the ice blocking his entrance to the cell,

“See, I told you.”

Chapter Text

Stolas had fucked up. 

He knew he had fucked up, but why did his fuck ups have to so…monumental. So dramatic.

He lifted himself up onto his elbows and looked around him with a moan.

He was still at the party. If you could call it that in the light of the earth’s oncoming sunrise…

He wasn’t the only one; there were plenty of stragglers around. Demons were milling about here and there. Some half-dressed looking for various articles of clothing; others were still drinking; others were continuing to fornicate in various corners.

Well, at least he had been to his first “rager”… how impressive. Fooling around like a teenager and making an absolute fool of himself. 

He groaned and flopped back onto the couch. He lifted his left hand that was dropping off the side of the cushions and started some light magic twirling through his fingers.

Time for some painkillers…

As the worst of the hangover started to subside, bits of the night came back to him.

The Blitz cake which had just been in the worst taste…all of Blitz’s exes (each one so much prettier, handsomer or sexier than he could ever hope to be himself)...him singing about Blitz... Blitz finding him afterwards...

He sat up. Wait. No. Blitz had been there. He had gone to the party too. 

He heard the song... He put his hand to his beak. He was so embarrassed he just wanted to disappear.

They’d..talked and… oh no…he poured his heart out hadn’t he, and then he…went off to dance with some incubus?

Stolas covered his eyes with his hands and leaned back on the couch.

What a fuck up he was.

He had told blitz he wanted someone; he hadn’t said he wanted Blitz, and then he went off with some random boy and when he came back to the couch, Blitz was gone, and he was too drunk to do anything but fall asleep on the couch.

He could portal. How could he have been too drunk to portal home? How embarrassing…

He felt something crunch under him, and he realized he was sitting on a note. Had…had blitz been still been there after he fell asleep? 

His heart jumped hopefully. 

You’re very cute and a great kisser but you seemed to need the sleep. Call me when you’re rested up…

It was the incubus’ phone number. he…should be excited shouldn’t he? 

He pushed the feeling of disappointment down and tucked the note into his pocket. He stood up quickly and straightened his clothes with a flourish. 

 “Right. Time to go home,” he clapped his hands together, bracing himself for another day.

Then he noticed a few demons turning to look at him. 

“Oh, I… I said that out loud didn’t I?” Stolas laughed awkwardly and ran his talons through the feathers on his head.

Whoops. He was too used to being alone wasn’t he?

He was preparing to open a portal when he heard a crash and looked out a nearby window.

Oh fuck. 

The IMP van was parked outside… and worse than that, the stragglers from the party had found it. 

Stolas hurried outside to the crowd of hung-over looking demons huddled around the car. 

The van was in sorry shape. The windows had been smashed in; the tires were slashed to ribbons, and someone had spray painted a capital L in front of the I in I.M.P. and then drew a very lewd cartoon of male genitalia underneath.

“Alright, alright you’ve had your fun” Stolas tried to sound commanding, as he made little shooing motions with his hands towards the demons, but he just felt foolish.

 “It’s technically morning now, and Halloween is over. Everyone either needs to return to their proper place or…well… I will start giving you all citations.” 

They all looked at stolas blankly.

Stolas sighed.

“Go back to hell by the order of the Ars Goetia, or you’ll…you’ll all be in trouble.” Stolas emphasized his point with some eldritch magic, putting his hands on his hips and sending black and red energy around his talons in what he knew was a rather un-intimidating display. 

Hangovers were a bitch…

The party goers all grumbled but started dispersing slowly. 

Stolas nodded politely as they flipped him off, and then he turned to start assessing the damage. 

Blitz was nowhere to be seen, but why would he leave his van here? He knew how important it was to the business…to Blitz… Could he not use the crystal properly? Was he too drunk to operate it to get the van home? 

Stolas sighed and opened a small portal to where his Grimoire sat safely by his bed. 

He flipped through it halfheartedly. 

There was a spell in here that would fix most of the major damage to the van easily; he just had to figure out where it was…

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and a little purple cloud popped up with his caller id. 

Blitzy is Calling…

Chapter Text

Blitzy is calling…

Stolas dropped the book on the ground, the grimoire all but forgotten.

What the fuck was he feeling? Was he elated? terrified? heartbroken seeing that ridiculous fucking nickname?

He wasn’t sure, but he decided he was not going to feel any of it. He was just going to answer the phone.

Yes, he could do that.

“Blitz? Hello? Is that you? Well…I mean it is you, but why are you calling me? You left your van.”

Well, that was not particularly graceful.

“Really, Stolas, you’re starting to make me feel embarrassed for you.”

Every emotion Stolas had been feeling up to that moment was washed away in a wave of dread. Every feather on the nape of his neck lifted up as adrenaline sent cold chills racing up and down his spine.

“What have you done?”

He heard his voice from somewhere very far away.

“Well nothing yet…” Andrealphus sounded disappointed. I portaled him in without thinking of the drop, and I’m afraid it was a bit far for such a tiny little thing. Don’t worry; he’ll be awake soon.”

Stolas was having trouble thinking, trouble moving. He knew Andrealphus was trying to get under his skin, but the jabs weren’t even registering.

He felt himself start moving, but it didn’t feel like he was really making the decision to move his body. He knelt and retrieved the grimoire from the dirty asphalt, before standing and reaching for the handle of the van. it was locked, but then his hand was warm and glowing, and then the door was open. 

“Andrealphus. This has nothing to do him.

You can stop this right now, and I will… it…it will not have happened.”

He sat down in the drivers seat, adjusting the seat for his too long legs. He closed the door, swallowing thickly as his eyes drifted up to the little horse keychain blitz kept hanging from the mirror.

“You have my word.”

He kept his eyes on the horse, pulling his knees up awkwardly, wrapping his arms around them.

“Well that’s why I feel so lucky. I came to the party looking for a sweet, sad little bird prince,” Andrealphus pouted, “but I think I found something much more useful.” 

Stolas didn’t move. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t think about the implications of what he had just been told.

If he did he would start to spiral or scream or lose control of himself, and he couldn’t afford to do any of those things right now. 

He looked at the horse hanging from the rear view mirror.

It had a name…

Blitz had told him before, but he couldn’t remember it now…

What was it’s name again?

“Blitz wants nothing to do with me anymore, Andrealphus. We aren’t…I was the villain here. He’s already out of the picture. He’s…he’s not useful to you.”

Was he even making sense?

He couldn’t tell anymore.

“You see, I think that’s where this is getting so poetic….”

Stolas listened blankly.

Blitz had told him the name of that horse… he was sure of it.

“You were such an idiot, as usual, that you didn’t even realize what you had.

You’ve always been such a mopey, miserable little man, Stolas, I can’t wait to make you see what happiness could have been like for you before i snuff it out forever.”

Stolas realized then that he had been mistaken; the horse had been a unicorn this whole time…

“Where are you? Just tell me, and I’ll meet you there.”

“Ugh, you’re already so tiresome with this numb little victim routine, Stolas, I’m going to send you your own portal when it’s awake. Maybe that will snap you out of it”

Stolas didn’t answer.

The call dropped.

In the corner of his eye, Stolas saw the edges of white and red fabric. Blitz’s disguise. Without looking at it, he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and sat very still.

Then, he numbly lifted the grimoire with his magic and used a spell he knew by heart.

The van grew dark around him, and then it was hidden in its own pocket of void.         

The darkness was comforting.                                                                       

This was what he always did. 

He would stop moving.

He would hide in the darkness.

He would stare…

at the wall

at the floor

at the unicorn dangling from the mirror.

He would stare, sit very still, and wait.