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Octavia is not snooping on her dad, she's not. Obviously.
She's just concerned about his well-being so she's rifling through his desk drawer in the middle of the night without him knowing because she's a good daughter. Because she cares. Duh.
So far she's managed to ransack everything but the bottom drawer of his desk. She's treated this with the calm, analytical precision of an army general, but even that hasn't helped. She's found absolutely fucking nothing to indicate why her dad went from singing like a Disney princess one day to moping around the palace like some kind of depressive ghost. Nothing to explain why he's so sad all the fucking time. But more importantly, nothing to tell her how to fix this.
She thought it had gotten better since the divorce proceedings started. And it had. Both her mother and her father were happier apart, there were fewer screaming matches and slightly less antagonism on both ends now that they were living apart. Her mum hasn't been such a raging bitch and her dad had smiled for the first time in years. And she felt happier in a weird way that made her feel a bit guilty.
It felt like things were getting into a new rhythm, it wasn't quite the same but she could work with it.
So to see her dad do a complete 360-degree turn back into depression was a kick in the gut that she wanted- no, that she needed to fix.
But she couldn't find anything wrong.
It was infuriating. She could scream. She could cry. She just wants him to be okay, wants him to be happy for once in his life.
All of this means that Octavia is desperate as she yanks the final drawer open. All her meticulous searching out the fucking window with her composure. She is sniffling back tears of frustration and all she finds is the usual crap, letters, bills, long forgotten snacks. Fuck.
She fights the urge to slam the drawer shut and stomp back to her room to angry-cry and strategise. She makes herself take a breath and then she rifles through the things in the drawer because she's desperate.
Because she cannot let herself fail at this of all fucking things.
Her talons hit a box.
She frowns.
She takes it out carefully and places it on top of the desk. Gently. It's like an old hat box but kind of flat. It's got her dad's seal on it and she stares at it for a moment. She has never seen this box before and it has that air about it like it might be full of secrets.
Or maybe she's just wishful thinking.
Nope. It has definitely got secret vibes about it she decides, all velvety and closed like that. She feels like Pandora about to damn humanity.
There's a moment where she teeters in her convictions, where she is unsure if she should open it or not. But then she decides that since she's completely invaded her father's privacy already, she figures she may as well go the whole hog and completely disregard any semblance of her dad's personal boundaries.
She opens it without any second thoughts and she stares at its contents confused.
Inside the box are letters. Lots and lots of letters.
They're handwritten in her father's familiar calligraphic style. Most are in envelopes that are addressed to be sent but don't seem to have made it as far as the post box. She picks up the first one that's not in an envelope and she reads.
My dearest and most darling, Blitzy…
She rolls her eyes at the dramatics, even in letter form her dad is a lot. But she keeps reading and soon her fond scoffing has turned into unshed tears because her father has ripped his metaphorical heart out and left it on the page in her hands.
And all for that weird guy he's been spending so much time with.
She frowns slightly thinking about that day in Loo Loo Land and then the one more recently when she'd run off to LA. She wasn't sure how she felt about Blitzø, especially since his appearance was coincidentally very close to the time her father declared he wanted a divorce.
It's not like it was a secret that they'd been having some kind of affair (gross!!!). Her mother had screamed her head off about it at breakfast loudly and often enough that Octavia had managed to hear every single word even through the heavy metal bands she had blasting through her headphones at deafening volume.
But she hadn't known that her dad felt this deeply about him.
It was weird.
If her dad was willing to write all these heartfelt letters for him then there must be something about him to like.
And if that weird dickhead made him happy…
She placed the letter back into the box, very quickly grabbed the whole thing and made a tactful retreat back to her room.
She had some reading to do.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Loona pauses her eyeliner as her phone buzzes on the dresser in front of her. She glances down at the device, hoping it's Tex (it’s not, sad face). Though she's not entirely disappointed to see that it’s from Octavia.
What is weird is how early the teenager is texting her. Normally she's a night owl. Ha. Ha.
Since their outing to LA, she and Octavia have been keeping in touch, sending each other memes, their favourite bands and so on. They have a surprising amount in common and she feels like the owlet could do with a friend.
And alright, fine maybe she could too… fuck off.
Octavia
Hey… has your dad been acting, idk, weird?
Loona
I mean, you've met him right?
Octavia
Ha, good point
Loona frowns a little because since when did Octavia even acknowledge Blitzø's existence? Let alone be concerned about him. Normally the owlet would just scowl at him and reel off some bored sarcastic comment. Which was a mood, admittedly.
Her phone buzzes again.
Octavia
But like really?
Alright. Weird. But she may as well humour whatever the fuck this is.
Loona pokes her head out of her room to look at where Blitzø has no doubt crashed on the couch again and yup, there he is. His phone is clutched in his hand like it always is these days. Almost like he's waiting for it to ring, like he's expecting someone to call. Whoever it is, they never do.
The bottle of beer he'd been clutching in the other hand had fallen sometime in his sleep and now there’s a puddle of booze and vomit staining their rug. It's a sight she's grown disappointingly used to these last few weeks since the full moon.
When he was supposed to see the prince aka Octavia's dad...
She cringes at the memory of how she'd walked out of her room to find Blitzø honest-to-Satan singing about banging the bird. It had been a lot especially first thing in the morning before she'd even had her fucking coffee. She had tried to burn the encounter from her mind if she's honest. But she supposes, that was probably the last time she'd seen him genuinely happy.
That's also the night that he came home shitfaced and his drinking had really amped up after that. Huh…
Loona
He's been fucking miserable actually
Loona
Is your dad okay?
Octavia
He's like a ghost, it's weird.
Octavia
He just mopes around doing nothing
Octavia
I'm worried.
Octavia
Do you think…
Loona
They broke up?
Octavia
I'm not sure they were ever together
Octavia
I found some letters from my dad
Octavia
Addressed to your dad
Loona frowns but her phone buzzes as a dozen or so photos come through. She opens them curiously and skim-reads parts of each letter.
Tears well in her eyes and her heart aches, she feels like she's in that shitty telenovela that Blitzø has recently become obsessed with. These letters are the kind of things nice little girls dream about receiving from their Prince Charmings. She supposes Stolas maybe took that part literally.
Another message from the owlet flashes up on her screen and she opens it.
Octavia
I'll spare you from the more explicit ones
Loona
Oh shit, new trauma unlocked
Octavia
Yeah can't wait to explain that to my therapist
Loona snorts a laugh as she creeps over to Blitzø's sleeping form, although it doesn't fucking matter. When he's asleep like this, he's out for the count. Not even Lucifer himself could wake the imp.
Still, sneaking around feels like it fits the clandestine, undercover vibe and so sneaking around she will do. May as well make this fun.
She takes his phone gently and waits for him to settle as he grumbles in his sleep at the disturbance but lo and behold he doesn't wake up. Honestly, that's a fucking hazard.
She taps Blitzø's phone and the screen lights up asking for a password. Well, Blitzø isn't exactly complicated when it comes to things like this and Loona looks around the room. Her eyes catch on the calendar, surely not the full moon dates, no. She looks to the right where her adoption certificate sits in pride of place, framed and everything. It's ridiculous really, the whole adoption thing. She was months away from ageing out of the system and yet….would he?
She taps the date into the phone and blinks at the last thing on Blitzø's screen. She is unsure if she is touched that her adoption date is his password or not. Sentimental bastard.
She pushes the thought away and focuses on the picture that's on the screen, that Blitzø must have been looking at as he passed out on the sofa, drunk again. It's a shot of him and Stolas in bed. She cringes but it's not explicit or anything thankfully. Good because she couldn't afford a therapist to deal with that trauma, unlike Octavia. No, thankfully the picture is kind of wholesome in a way.
Stolas looks to be asleep, a smile on his beak and his arm wrapped around Blitzø who is looking at the camera with a soft expression on his face. They look happy. She feels like she's looking at a picture of a couple in love, not whatever ‘business contract’ those two idiots had convinced themselves they were in.
She sends it to herself, the seeds of an idea forming at the back of her brain as she looks at his other recently opened apps.
Stolas' contact page is open, almost as if Blitzø had wanted to call but a quick look at the phone log confirmed he hadn't actually done it. Probably for the best. Drunk calls are never a good look but the information rests heavily on her chest. She purses her lips together.
She moves on, finding the notes page had also been used recently and fucking bingo!
She scrolls through the note and it's long, far longer than she ever thought they could go. Her eyes scan the lines and though it's horrifically spelt, she can make out that it's an ongoing monologue of Blitzø's inner thoughts. All of them centred around Stolas. Well, unless he knows another longg legd prissee birb bicht hoos fukin secxy az fuk.
Loona cringes.
Blitzø stirs on the couch and she quickly forwards the whole note to herself before destroying any evidence she has done so. Though she doubts he’d even know how to look.
She wedges the phone between the couch cushions so he won't know she's been snooping and shakes his shoulder as if trying to wake him. Blitzø's eyes flicker open and he's frowning already but his expression softens when he sees it's her.
“Come on Dad, rise and fucking shine,” she grumbles, but it's half-hearted. Her mind is working out a plan to get two fucking dumbasses to just admit they love each other. “Another happy day in Hell.”
“Looney-toon, you look great honey but why is only half your eyeliner done?” Blitzø asks and then his eyes widen, “Unless it's a new look then slayyy girrlll.”
“What?” She frowns and then realises, oh shit she'd been doing her make-up when Octavia text her. Fuck. Great. “Ugh, da- Blitzø, you're so embarrassing.”
She stomps off in a faux-tantrum but she's actually texting Octavia because the seeds of an idea have sprouted and now she's got a fully formed plan.
She just needs the owlet on board.
Loona
You'll never guess what
Octavia
What???
Loona
My dad has been doing the exact same thing as your dad
Loona
Except not as fancy
Loona
Obviously
Octavia
No fucking way
Loona
Read it and weep bitch
She sent through some snippets of Blitzø’s monologue and waits as Octavia reads. She hears Blitzø moving around the flat. Good, at least he's vertical.
Octavia
His spelling is fucking awful but also it's kind of cute?
Loona
They're fucking idiots but we can fix this
Octavia
You got a plan?
Loona grinned, oh did she have a plan. Octavia didn't know what she was getting herself in for.
Loona
Ofc, stick with me kid and these morons will be back together in no time
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The plan is admittedly quite simple, but she's hoping that it's simplicity is it's benefit, because there's less things to go wrong. Although she is dealing with the two most stubborn, emotionally repressed idiots in all of the seven rings so there's always the chance that this ends in a major fuck up.
She decides she'll deal with that if it comes to that.
It won't though because this is going to work.
It has to.
So the plan is simple, Loona sends Blitzø's messages to Stolas in a pretty envelope so he actually opens it and doesn't think it's a bomb threat or whatever.
Octavia is pretty sure she can convince her dad to read them and if he's half as romantic as his letters then all his lovely dovey feelings will come rushing back and he’ll swoon right into Blitzø’s awaiting arms. That's the easy part.
Loona's part is a lot more difficult. Octavia is going to send Stolas' letters to the I.M.P. office and Loona is going to get Blitzø to read them or she's going to read them to him even if she has to hold him down and shout through Blitzø's own goddamned megaphone until it goes into that thick skull of his.
But it's okay, she knows Blitzø and she's got a plan for this too. And besides she's not fucking stupid, she's not going to do this alone.
Nah, it's time to call in the big guns.
It’s time to call M&M.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Blitzø sees the box in the postman's hand and recognises the royal seal on it immediately.
The urge to throw himself out the window to avoid whatever this is, is strong and he battles with that feeling for a moment. A moment too long apparently. There is a second where everything is still and then-
“Now!” Loona barks and he barely has time to register what she has said before he is tackled from two opposing directions.
Blitzø is going to blame the shock for how quickly it takes Millie and Moxxie to pin him down. Because clearly in any other circumstances, he'd beat them both, obviously.
It's just this time that he is too stunned to make a crude joke about Millie's legs around his neck as she sits on his shoulders and pins his arms to the floor.
Moxxie got the short end of the deal and is trying to keep his flailing legs still which he does manage but not before Blitzø got to bitch slap him in the face twice with his tail. Fuck yeah. And Loona, the biggest Judas of them all, stands in front of them with that blasted box in her hands.
“You're going to want to fight this, but you need to hear what's in this box so listen up asshole,” Loona says, her voice is stern and he knows this is going to be absolute fucking torture.
But the bigger part recognises her nefarious plan. Besides, the glint in her eyes is the same as his own as she threatens that this is for his own good and he is so very, very proud of his daughter.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Stolas looks at the letter that his butler gives him with a curious expression. The envelope is stained with only Satan knows what, he’s not sure he wants to know. The penmanship is rough, to say the least. If his butler hadn't confirmed the contents were safe (despite the fact it had been thrown through the window) Stolas would assume this is some kind of attempt on his life.
But alas, he knew at least one demon who would deliver mail like this. His heart twists at the thought.
It couldn't be.
Could it?
“You going to open that?” Octavia nods at the letter in his hands and carries on eating her cereal, looking every bit the moody teenager she is.
He is grateful for her interruption of his spiralling thoughts, though he finds her interest slightly suspicious. Octavia is a night owl in every sense of the phrase, normally this early she is sullen and silent in her countenance. For her to speak and willingly at that, is not normal.
“I suppose so, but just to make sure it's not a threat to our lives.” He relents and presses his beak together.
Knowing his luck, it's probably just Stella with another attempt at ruining his life. Honestly, when will she get over it...
He slips a sharp talon under the seal and cautiously slides it along the envelope. A thick wad of paper falls out with a photograph and a sticky note. The note is written in the same writing as the envelope address. Scratchy and rough.
SOZ ABOUT THE WINDOW BUT U NEED TO C THIS
Oh, well, at least his mystery sender is sorry about the property damage they have caused. That's more than he ever had from Blitzø.
He raises an eyebrow and places it to one side before the picture grabs his attention. It's a photo of himself and Blitzø in bed. And this would be alarming if the picture wasn't so clearly taken by Blitzø himself.
Though that fact does bring up a flurry of emotions in Stolas' heart. Because why did Blitzø take this and more importantly, why did he keep it?
Stolas takes a breath and reminds himself that Blitzø made his choice when he took the crystal and all but ran away from him on that fateful full moon. It's fine. It is. So what if he hasn't come back or made any attempts to Stolas since? It's okay, it was expected. He knew it was very likely so it's fine. It is.
Stolas is steadfast in his promise that he would respect the imp's decision whatever that may be. And it's clear what his decision has been. It doesn't hurt at all. It's not a constant unbearable agony that clings to his every movement. And it's definitely not a miasma of pain that follows him everywhere and clouds every single breath he tries to take. It's not.
It's fine.
(No, really it is.)
So with some perspective gained, Stolas forces himself to look at the photo in an attempt to solve this mystery at least. Surely this would be a distraction and not at all some ridiculous form of emotional self-harm.
He's fine. He is.
The photo is a physical reminder of all of his wretched mistakes and Stolas cannot stop himself from indulging in this particular brand of self-inflicted torture. Huzzah. In the photo, he is fast asleep, his arm around Blitzø in a way that can only be seen as deeply intimate and incredibly loving.
He feels his face flush, unaware his heart's yearnings had shown so blatantly in his unconscious state. No wonder Blitzø always ran away as soon as he feasibly could. He probably took the photo as proof that Stolas was some sad clingy loser even in his sleep. How humiliating and not in a sexy way at all.
With his face burning, Stolas forces his eyes to look at Blitzø in the photo and it is here that they get stuck, Blitzø is awake in the photo. Stolas supposes he would have to been to have taken it. The imp is smiling at the camera with an uncharacteristic softness that Stolas could only have dreamed of seeing, let alone having graced the imp's face in his presence.
Oh.
Isn't that a pickle?
Because Blitzø doesn't look uncomfortable in the slightest.
Stolas feels his heart tremble at the image and the realisation. It scares him how happy the gentleness on the imp's face makes him and it hurts to know that he will never see it himself. He cannot pinpoint exactly which full moon this was, but he thinks it was one of the earlier ones.
He sighs, whatever momentary fondness the imp may have once held, had clearly long since evaporated because Blitzø chose to leave.
And that is fine.
It is.
He stifles a depressed sigh, though more for Octavia's sake than his own. The photo reminds him so much of a picture he has on his own phone that he supposed he really should delete now.
He remembers clearly how he'd woken up to a faint rumbling before realising the sound was coming from the imp who had curled up on his chest at some point in their sleep. Blitzø was purring, face pressed into his chest feathers and tail wrapped around his waist. Stolas' heart had wept at the sight.
The smaller demon had looked so beautiful and relaxed. His tail had kept them connected even as the prince had moved to take a photo.
His mouth goes dry and that ever-present torment flares in his chest.
What did any of this mean?
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“Looney, honey, what the fuck is this?” Blitzø shouts as he tries to shake Mille off of him.
But she's good, has always been the best out of the three of them and she has him pinned so he can't get any advantage over her. Fuck.
“Ah, ah.” The imp on his shoulders tuts and she digs her heel into his arm harshly. He hisses at the pain and she actually giggles, fucking sadist. Moxxie is a lucky man, “Not so fast, hun. You're going to listen to what Loona is going to read.”
“Why do I have to be pinned down to do that?” Blitzø struggles against his captors but their hold is tight. He didn't even manage to bitch slap Moxxie with his tail again which is what he is most disappointed about.
"Because you'll probably throw yourself out the window to avoid listening to her,,” Moxxie replies and Blitzø can hear the arrogant eye roll in his voice even if he can't see it. “Not long ago, sir, this would have been your dream come true.”
“Well, things change, Moxxie.” Blitzø huffs, the sense of betrayal still stinging, “This was cute though, great team bonding. But I suggest you let me go if you want next month's paychecks.”
“I already gave them out.” Loona kneels in front of Blitzø and he can't quite believe how proud he is, his daughter is evil. He did such a good job of raising her. “Now quit stalling and listen the fuck up.
“My dearest and most beloved Blitzø, this should be a very easy letter to write – words should come so easily and I have written to you countless times before. It should be simple to tell you how desperately happy I am every time I see you. But this time, perhaps the most crucial of all times, I find the words escape me."
“The fuck is this Shakespeare shit?” Blitzø spits against the violent toil of emotions the words have stirred in his chest.
Because he immediately knows who this is from, even if Loona hadn't been doing an absolutely stellar impression of the Goetian prince (honestly it's fucking unnerving). What demon is going to write, honest to Satan, letters in Hell? Blitzø can probably count them on one hand. Fuck it, he only needs one finger and preferably the middle one after that shitshow of a full moon.
How the fuck dare Stolas write him fucking letters after breaking his fucking heart? The absolute fucking nerve.
That window is looking real tempting right now, if he could just get free…
“Do we need to gag him?” Millie asked and the excitement in her voice should be worrying and he would be if he wasn't currently being assaulted by his own goddamned feelings.
“Sir, just listen.” Moxxie's hushes him but Blitzø isn't really focusing on either of them.
No, he's a bit preoccupied with trying to, you know, breathe properly so he doesn't end up hyperventilating on the floor in front of his employees for fuck's sake.
“I could not possibly say in a letter all that I should like you to know, but I fear I will never be able to express everything out loud to you either. I must get this off my chest if I am to have any chance of letting you go. I made a vow that I would set you free from our deal so that you could choose for yourself whether we continued our time together or not. And that I will respect your decision, and have no desire to influence it despite my heart’s yearnings. I remain steadfast in my conviction. You must choose for yourself what you want, my darling. This agreement between us has caused far too much pain. However, I cannot help how my heart yearns that the old proverb is true, if you love something, set it free and all of that. But I fear in our case that we were simply never meant to be.
“Since that fateful full moon, I have been constantly depressed. It seems my happiness is directly tied to my proximity to you though I expect we will never be in the same room again. I fear I have hurt you irreparably, that I have ruined any chance of a relationship between us with my foolish and hasty choices when I proposed the disastrous deal that bound our souls for far too long. I am so sorry, my love, for all the ways I have hurt you and I will spend the rest of my lifetime repenting to you if that is what you want.
"I am sorry that I made you feel you were nothing more than plaything when you mean so much more to me than you could ever know. I am sorry for suggesting the agreement in the first place and I recognise how coercive it was to suggest it when you reasonably could not say no. How foolish I was, suggesting something so cruel without even realising it. Inevitably ruining one of the only things I have ever truly wanted because I had no idea how special you would become to me. My Blitzy.
“Incessantly I live in my memory of our passionate nights. There is one in particular that I bask in, the night that you-” Loona stops abruptly and resumes in her normal voice, “Right, I'm going to skip this bit because I do not want to know what goes down on your full moon nights.”
“The answer to that is, I do.” Blitzø couldn't help but comment.
He hears Millie laugh above him and Moxxie splutters. Blitzø tries to use it as a distraction to break himself free, but all he gets is a jab with an elbow to his rib that has him wincing in pain.
“I want all the tea at brunch. You've been holding out on me, Hun." Millie nudges his arm with her foot and he bumps his horn back against her leg.
“You'll have to get a few mimosas in me first, Mills.”
“You two go to brunch?” Moxxie asks, incredulously.
“No, no nope.” Loona shouts, cutting them off before they can derail this intervention with discussions of Millie’s and Blitzø’s monthly brunch that apparently Moxxie didn't know about. Though how he doesn't, she can't guess because it's fucking obvious, maybe he really is dumber than he looks. And she thought that was impossible. Huh.
But anyway, fucks sake, she cannot let Blitzø distract them all. That slimy motherfucker.
He might be good, but Loona has pure desperation on her side, “Getting back on track, I think of you often my darling and I replay all of our soft moments, the aftershocks of our passion still heating our blood. Ew, gross! Each time I am filled with regret for how I could never find the words to express to you that every time I ever held you in my arms, I felt at home and I regret that I never made you feel that this was the truth.”
His heart aches at the words and he wants to believe it, but then why didn't Stolas say this? Why didn't he lay his heart on the line when he ended their deal?
If Blitzø had known that Stolas wanted him, like actually him and not just for some nasty sex because the prince was bored and horny. Then these last two months could have been spent non-stop banging and being emotionally vulnerable or whatever couples do instead of the non-stop agony and heartbreak it had been.
Things could have been so different.
Clearly, Stolas never would have said any of this to him. Clearly, he was embarrassed that he reckoned he had feelings for an imp like Blitzø. Clearly, he's not enough. Yet again. His brain flashes up an image of Stolas hiding behind his menu at Ozzie's and his heart flares in pain.
“Oh Blitzø, this is so romantic.” Millie cooes and Blitzø is inclined to agree with her but the poison in his mind has twisted all these words and now he's just plain pissed.
“Nothing compares to the feeling of your - alright, skipping that bit as well. And that bit. And fucking hell Blitzø, I don't want to know any of this."
"I do." Moxxie and Millie chime together and then Blitzø can practically hear them making those lovely-dovey eyes at each other over his head. Barf.
"Yeah, yeah, read it later you horn dogs." Blitzø rolls his eyes with too much sass and dignity for someone who was still pinned to the ground.
"I love you Blitzø with the whole of my being and that is why I remained steadfast in my choice to end our deal, despite my selfishness screaming at me to rescind my decision. But I cannot. My love for you is pure and I have to let you choose. I cannot force you to return my feelings nor can I continue to hurt you if I continue to indulge in mine. I have set you free and I hope that one day you may come back to me. But until then I wish you the best with everything. I truly hope you find happiness and that you learn to value yourself as I do. With all my love…”
“Don't.” Blitzø cuts her off and Loona looks at him silently. He knows she's observing him for his reaction and he is careful to keep his face neutral, keep his voice measured and devoid of emotion. It's fucking difficult because inside he wants to scream, cry and smash something all at the same time.
“That's just one letter, sir, there's so many more.” Moxxie pipes up from behind Blitzø like he thinks this is the bee's fucking knees and not the absolute clusterfuck of emotions that Blitzø has semi-successfully been avoiding for months now, “The whole box is full.”
“Millie, light of my life, please will you let me up?” Blitzø ignores Moxxie because fuck that.
The feelings threatening to burst out of his chest are his top priority. He can feel them bubbling under his skin all uncomfortable and gross.
“And what're you going to do if I do?”
“Well, it's a full moon isn't it?” Blitzø says and his three employees exchange a look above his head.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Stolas takes the wad of paper out of the envelope and blinks at how thick it is. He's read novels that are significantly shorter. Luckily he loves words and had taught himself to speed read by the age of eleven. A fact, he learned the hard way later on, that was not impressive to anyone apart from himself.
It's also lucky that he's used to Blitzø's atrocious spelling and grammar. Because of course yes, he recognises this author immediately. How could he not?
Terrorpissed sed 2 rite uncomtabl thorts dwn nd promist looney that is tri sew hearr gos…
Trid 2 steel fancee buk frum stolas sew we can go urth 4 the biznes sew da fuk did I and up sleepin wiv hym??? Woz post 2 b quik bt hes prity nd secx woz gud… hoo new id fuk a goeatcha me blitz an imp an a goeatcha
Stolas feels his face flush, he feels like a voyeur reading someone's diary and innermost thoughts. It feels wrong. He is conflicted between his desire to understand Blitzø more by reading and his respect for the imp which means not reading.
Surely if Blitzø wanted him to know any of this, then he would have told him… right?
Much like his own letters to Blitzø, there was a reason he hadn't said any of that. A reason he kept them stashed away in his desk drawer.
He places the letter down and wrings his hands as he thinks.
“Is there a problem?” Octavia asked around her cereal and he looks at her for a moment.
He had almost forgotten she was there. He studies her for a beat, her disinterest seems forced. Suspicious. And oh yes, he can see anticipation burning in her eyes. Eyes that are so like his own. She has something to do with this mysterious parcel, that he is certain of.
He is unsure if he is proud of her scheming or if it reminds him uncomfortably of her mother.
“I don't know…” Stolas replied.
She squints at him and goes back to her cereal. There's a beat of silence.
“Well, what you got there?”
“It seems someone has sent me a diary of sorts because they felt I needed to see it,” Stolas replies, his tone is measured and he is watching her reaction carefully.
His eyes land on the photo and the post-it note. What did it all mean? Why did Via want him to see this? How did she even know this existed? She clearly wanted him to read it, but should he?
“Are you going to read it?” Octavia asks. Her voice is neutral but her eyes burn like the faraway stars he loves to observe.
“I don't know. It feels like an invasion of privacy.” Stolas confesses, he looks down at the paper. His hands shake slightly.
“Okay, what if I read it out loud and you just happen to be here?” Octavia suggests with a waggle of her eyebrows. He smiles slightly at her attempted loophole, he loves her so much.
“It's the same thing Via, though I appreciate your quick thinking in terms of grey areas and loopholes. Very dastardly.” Stolas replies with a smile and she smiles back briefly.
“Just read it, Dad, what have you got to lose?”
He was intrigued, confused and suspicious.
Ah. Fuck it.
One page and he would stop. One page wouldn't hurt, right?
One page was a casual glance down but a firm decision not to read more. One page would be fine. It's fine. It's not fine. With each word he reads, he feels hope rise in his chest, it fills him with a painful joy. How could he ever go to Blitzø with this? How could he say he read the imp's innermost thoughts? What an invasion of privacy and yet, he couldn't stop himself from reading every word.
One page turned into twenty.
Woz nyce ceeein stowlaz 2di, fink i mist hym mor thn I wnatd to lt misef fink. Hee luk nyce n hes caype spsrklee, he sew prittty n hes funee n clevr. Hes ownlee won hoo laffs aht mi joekes. Y dus he doo thaht.
Bt I fukin rooind it.
I alwaze fukin rooin it.
Fuk ozzzy. fuk fiz. fuk veroseka. Hee hed bhind hiz menoo, im embarasin him, I rooin evriting n evri1 fuk fuk fuk i wont stolz. i Mis stolz. Partee woz badd ideer, drukn, dont wont deniss, fuk deniss fuk, wher stolz mist hym. y isnt he her. y did i puhsh im awaze.
He laffs aht mi joekes. Meens sumfing rite? Rite?
Stolas didn't notice Octavia had gotten up under the guise of putting her bowl in the sink but really she was hovering behind her dad. She was trying to read over his shoulder, trying to understand what was going on in that feathered mind.
He'd skipped through the more illegible sections, his curiosity burning his patience and making him rush through the writings. He felt greedy as he guzzled up the words, like a man who had been separated from water for far too long. This is what he'd wanted, what he craved. Validation that this relationship between them wasn't just because of the contact, wasn't just because he had forced Blitzø to be there. He wanted reassurance of Blitzø's feelings, wanted the imp to communicate all of this with him of his own free will.
But this wasn't that, was it?
Blitzø hadn't given him these words willingly and here he was taking from him again without thought of the consequences. He couldn't keep doing this, he wouldn't. He was selfish. He was a monster. Everything negative thing Stella had ever said or he had ever thought about himself was true.
Nausea grips his stomach at the realisation and shame washes through him. He just couldn't stop hurting Blitzø no matter what he did and he felt tears well up in all four eyes. As much as his heart hurt to admit it, it seemed to be glaringly true that they were better off apart, Blitzø was better off without him.
He felt glad that he had never sent his letters to the imp because this was all too much and still so much more than he deserved.
He had craved this for so long.
But not like this.
“I have to stop,” Stolas said, mostly to himself as he set the page in his hands down.
“What?” Octavia's voice was loud, too loud for the space and he winced as he found her hovering over his shoulder, “Dad, you have to read this. Please?”
“I can't, Via, as much as I want to, I just can't. Blitzø didn't give these to me and I can't take more from him, I can't hurt him more than I already have.” Stolas says as his eyes shut. All four of them.
The self-loathing threatens to overwhelm him but then he hears Octavia's talons tapping on her phone and he opens them. She is staring at him but her fingers are a blurr.
“Dad...” her voice cracks, “Please keep reading.”
“Via, I can't.” He said with a sad smile, “I know you must have some part to play in this and I apologise that this is not going to your plan. But Blitzø means too much to me and I have to learn to treat him better than I have. I keep making the same mistakes and it needs to change.”
Octavia opens her mouth to argue and then she deflates completely, she slumps back into her usual slouch, “Okay, I get it. But also I’m kind of mad at you for having morals.”
“Thank you, my Starfire. I will try and take that as a compliment.” He places the papers back in line and then adds the photo and the sticky note to the top. His eyes land on the photo again and he traces it gently with his talons. “And thank you for whatever this scheme of yours was. I know you only had the best of intentions.”
“Dad…”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“Ugh, love you too Dad.”
“Now come along Via, the day is young and so are we. Let's make the most of it!” He clapped his hands and rose from the chair. His cheeriness is forced, over the top to compensate for the utter turmoil rolling in his chest.
But he can't let that show, not to Octavia.
Not when she's started to scheme just to try to make him happier.
No, he’ll keep that for his private bathroom. His sanctuary where he can cry in peace.
He looks at the letter one last time. Best to leave it there, out of temptation’s way. He will return it to the I.M.P. office later on and then he can just forget the whole thing ever happened. Easy peasy.
It's fine. It is.
Octavia rolls her eyes with a groan but he sees the smile on her beak as he ruffles her head feathers. What he didn't notice was the phone in her hand and the code red she had just sent to Loona.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Octavia
Code fucking red
Octavia
My dad won't read anymore, he says he respects Blitzø’s boundaries too much
Loona
Cute but the fuck???
Octavia
honestly might the only demon in hell with fucking morals
Loona
What are we going to do about it
Octavia
He wouldn't even go for the loopholes
Octavia
I thought he would be the easy one
Loona
Same!!
Loona
Blitzø took it surprisingly well
Loona
I think
Loona
We didn't even have to gag him
Loona
Much to Millie's disappointment…
Octavia
What??
Loona
Never mind kid
Loona
Actually…
Loona
Maybe you should know
Loons
He left and we think he's on his way over
Loona
he was like weirdly calm
Loona
Via?
Loona
You good chick?
Octavia
Uh Octavia I think he might be here
Octavia
I hear yelling?
Loona
Oh fuck
Loona
I'm coming over
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“What the fuck is this?” Blitzø yells as soon as he sees Stolas step out of his fancy-schmancy bathroom almost an hour later.
Stolas is dressed in that familiar silk robe and he looks all handsome and clean. His feathers are freshly preened and he has no right to look so utterly fuckable. Honestly, it’s fucking rude.
The fucking nerve, how fucking dare he. Fuck him.
Blitzø is waving the love letter in his hand and gesturing wildly at it as Stolas’s eyes widen at the sight of him.
And shit, Stolas has used those oils that Blitzø fucking loves. The ones that smell so good and make him just want to curl up in those feathers and sleep forever because it makes him feel so fucking safe and so fucking soft. He swears it's muscle memory as he's hit with the urge to purr just at that familiar smell.
Fuck.
He's missed this, he's missed him.
The realisation hits him like a freight train and he has to remind himself to breathe.
“Oh… Blitzø?” Stolas’ voice is high-pitched and he's surprised. Though Blitzø doesn't know why, he's climbed up the prince’s balcony enough times for this not to be weird. No sexual innuendo intended.
He's been sitting here for almost an hour whilst the prince went about his morning routine, getting ready for a day of whatever the fuck it is he does all day. And Blitzø had chosen to spend that hour winding himself up about that stupid fucking letter and their stupid fucking not breakup and his stupid fucking feelings and apparently Stolas’ stupid fucking feelings too that he had no fucking clue about.
“The one and fucking only.”
“I didn't expect you, what are you doing here?”
“It's the full moon, bitch.” Blitzø replies because isn't it obvious? Doesn't Stolas have the moon cycles memorised as well? Isn’t his job like knowing the stars and the planets and the moon and shit?
Blitzø hates how his voice is strangled as he shouts across the room, but Stolas can't just send him the most romantic fucking thing he's ever been forced to listen to and expect him not to fucking show up?
If he thought that, then this guy really isn't as smart as he thinks he is. The lanky bitch writes better than fucking Shakespeare or whatever fucking human is supposed to be good at this shit.
“Yes, but the deal has ended, darl- uh, Blitzø and you don't have to be here.” Stolas looks concerned like Blitzø might be finally experiencing that mental breakdown he's been threatening for years. It makes his eyes all soft and shit.
Blitzø loves his eyes when they go like that, even those sneaky fuckers up top that he doesn't trust one hundred percent because they always try to peek through the blindfold when Stolas decides he wanted to use it during their full moon rendezvous. Even if those soft eyes do bring up all those complicated feelings he's been avoiding for far too long.
Well surprise bitch, he's full of complicated feelings today and he going to fucking embrace them. His therapist will be so fucking proud.
“How fucking dare you?” Blitzø shouts because all these emotions have to have an outlet and his chosen one is yelling. Obviously.
“Blitzy-Blitzø… I don't understand.” Stolas says and he takes a step forward and then stops as if he's unsure whether to approach him or not.
Blitzø is suddenly very aware and very offended by all that space between them, especially when Stolas could be right here in front of him. Or much more to his liking, when he could be in Stolas' arms, feeling those feathers against him and finally being able to breathe again.
“How fucking dare you write the most romantic shit ever and then expect me not to fucking turn up!” Blitzø marches across the room because honestly fuck this space between them.
He shoves the letter very carefully into Stolas’ beautiful, fluffy chest feathers because it's now one of his top three most prized possessions along with Loona's adoption certificate and his horse hoodie (that Stolas also got him, fuck he's down bad).
He'd rather shove his face in there instead but he figures they should at least talk about this.
Look at that, growth.
His therapist is going to cream at all this fucking progress he's decided to make today. Poor fucker won't know what hit her.
Stolas blinks down at the paper and takes it gently in his talons. His four eyes scan the words and Blitzø knows he’s a fast reader, he’s always thought it was cool as fuck. (He also thought it was nerdy as hell, but he fucking loves that too apparently). He can tell the moment Stolas recognises his own words because his face flushes that beautiful, beautiful pink.
Blitzø fucking loves him.
He loves him so fucking much it hurts with how much he loves him.
“Oh, Blitzø…”
“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.” Blitzø all but gasps and Stolas blinks at him. He is frozen with the letter in his hands and Blitzø growls, grabs him by the robe and pulls him down so he can kiss him senselessly.
Stolas kisses him back immediately and Blitzø groans at the sensation and how right this fucking feels. He's kissed too many people to count, but none of them make him feel like he does when he's kissing Stolas. It feels like coming home and his blood fizzes happily at the contact.
Fuck he missed this, he missed the feel of Stolas against him. He missed his smell and how it envelopes him and makes him feel safe. He missed his humour and his endless libido, his silly stories and his dramatics. His fucking feathers that get everywhere.
Blitzø cannot stop the growl in his throat as he pushes harder against Stolas, pulls him closer, holds him tighter. He feels his tail wrap around the bird’s leg and it feels so right. Stolas groans when Blitzø moves and does that thing he likes where he moves his tongue just so and Satan’s asshole, it goes straight to Blitzø head. He feels like he’s taken three different drugs at once, he’s high as fuck and on Stolas alone.
Stolas pulls back and Blitzø will deny it, but he definitely whines as he tries to follow the owl's mouth.
“Blitzø, I think we need to talk…”
“Doesn't the letter say everything? Can't we get back to sex and cuddles and crap tv?” Blitzø asks and he is confused. Isn't it all okay now?
“But I- I didn't send it. I didn't intend for you to read it.” Stolas confesses, his eyes downcast and Blitzø looks at him, “I think the girls, well definitely Via but I'm guessing Loona too, sent it on my behalf.”
“On your behalf… why?” Blitzø frowns but no, that makes sense.
And it hits him. That incident in the I.M.P. office had felt like an attack because it was one. All three of his employees had known what was in that box, had coordinated how to take him down, how to make him listen. Had he been fucking played?
He's equal parts proud and fucking scandalised. Those devious bastards.
“I uh, I have been depressed since I saw you on the full moon and I think Via was concerned. She must have gone through my things looking for a reason and I think she found the letters I wrote to you. She must have if you have it now.” Stolas looks down at the paper in his talons and Blitzø doesn't know if he'll forgive the owl if he rips it up.
“It arrived this morning. Loona read it to me.”
“And you didn't throw yourself out of the window?” Stolas blinks at him and really, is that what everyone thinks? That he'd rather jump out of a window than deal with emotions? He's insulted, he's flabbergasted, he's completely offended.
“Why does everyone- no I didn't throw myself out of the fucking window.” He gestures to himself, whole and intact, “Clearly.”
“Oh.” Stolas nods and then adds as if realising something, “Did Millie and Moxxie hold you down?”
“For fuck's sake!” Blitzø throws his hands up and then he's stomping away and sitting on that fancy fucking sofa in the corner of the room. “I can emotion, I can do emotions.”
“I think the word you're looking for is ‘feel,’ darling,” Stolas replies as he floats over to the other end of the sofa. Blitzø has a second to marvel at his grace before his words register.
“Fuck you.” He glares but there's no heat to it. All things unholy, he loves this bitch with his whole heart.
“I never intended for you to read these letters or listen to them, Blitzø,” Stolas says as he perches on the other end of the sofa, wrapping his robe around him like he's self-conscious. Which is a bit ridiculous, Blitzø knows every nook and cranny on that long, lanky body. Self-consciousness is not an action or emotion that he associates with the owl.
“Why?” Blitzø looks at him and Stolas looks small, nervous.
It's an odd look to see on such a powerful demon. Does Blitzø make him nervous? The power rush goes straight to his head. Him, an insignificant imp makes a powerful Goetian nervous. He wants to laugh. He wants to cry. But more than anything, he desperately wants to kiss Stolas again.
“Because I didn't want to influence your decision with my feelings for you, just as I didn't want to influence you with our deal,” Stolas confesses and he won't look at Blitzø which is maddening.
“I don't understand, why wouldn't you tell me?” Blitzø asks and he can feel tears filling his eyes, “These past months have been terrible and I mean they have really fucking sucked, I have been to some dark fucking places. But they didn't need to be so fucking terrible. We could have been… something, Stolas. This entire time fucking time, we could have been something.”
“We’re so complicated Blitzø!” Stolas exclaims and his feathers puff out in distress, “I cannot se why anyone want this, me any of it! I really fucked this from the start by suggesting that idiotic deal. What I have done to you is unforgivable and I understand if you never get past that.”
“I could have found another way to run the business but I didn’t,” Blitzø says matter of factly and it’s true. He could have. So why didn't he?
“It doesn’t matter, I shouldn't have asked for that. It is never okay to ask for that.” Stolas replies, “I truly am sorry for putting you in that position.”
“It’s hardly scandalous for hell though, it’s pretty tame.” Blitzø shrugs.
“That doesn't change anything.” Stolas sighs. “Blitzø…”
“I think this is going to go round and round in circles until we’re both fucking dizzy, Stolas.” Blitzø looks down at his hands, he doesn't know how he feels about any of this. “But I am open to revisiting this one day… if you are.”
“Yes, I would be open to that. Maybe have some kind of mediation or counselling. For both of us?” Stolas tilts his head to the side with a squint and Blitzø looks up.
“Maybe that would be helpful.” Blitzø grits out. It's not his first instinct, no his first instinct is to make fun of the idea, to lash out and say they don't need some overpaid fuck to form opinions about their relationship. But he is trying and he can see that maybe, maybe this would benefit them. And besides, it’s not like he isn’t seeing a therapist for himself. Maybe it would help them resolve the issue.
“That means a lot, Blitzø.” Stolas nods, “But it’s just one issue, there's so many more. The power imbalance between us. And public reaction, a Goetia has never gotten divorced before, I am a spectacle. I would understand if you did not want anything to do with that.”
“Stolas…”
“And please do not misunderstand me, I am not embarrassed by how I feel about you. I can only hope to prove that to you in time if you decide that is something you want. I hid at Ozzie’s and I regret that. I hadn't expected the scrutiny of my actions. I should have. I realise now how incredibly naive that was of me and how it left me completely unprepared at that moment. I am ashamed of how I reacted and I am sorry for that, truly.”
“I get it, Stolas, it hurt but I do get it.” Blitzø smiles softly, “I wasn't my best self either that night.”
“You were attacked by people you cared about, I understand why it upset you.” Stolas reassures him, “I don't know how functional relationships are supposed to work, my marriage was arranged and far from healthy. The only experience I have is that and those telenovelas I watch. I don't know if this can move forward-”
“Stolas?” Blitzø says and the owl stops immediately, he looks at the imp with wide eyes, “Stop, you're overthinking.”
“Maybe so.” Stolas agrees after a deep breath and his eyes flutter down, self-consciously.
“I know so and besides… you still haven’t answered my question. Why didn't you tell me how you felt about me when you gave me the crystal?”
“I didn't want you to feel pressured or obligated to stay. I was worried that you would just be humouring me.”
“Okay…” Blitzø trails off and then no, fuck it, may as well have this out. "I thought you were rejecting me. I thought you'd found someone else, that you had gotten bored of me.”
“I never meant for it to come across as that, darling. I could never be bored of you, I merely wanted to give you the chance to choose for yourself what you wanted.”
“Well, I know what I want, Stolas." Blitzø takes Stolas’ hands in his, they are soft and delicate against his own. "And I would like to know what you want.”
“Blitzø…”
“Stolas, if this is going to have any fucking chance of working then you need to tell me what you want too.” The imp implores and he looks at Stolas and how miserable he looks. “Please tell me what you want.”
“I want you to choose me because you want to choose me!” Stolas shouts then and his pupils flash big and white in his eyes as he finally looks at Blitzø.
His feathers puff up and his cheeks darken and he is so fucking beautiful.
And so fucking stupid.
“I don't want you to be here because you feel like you have to because of the deal or to humour my feelings.” Stolas finishes and his head flops down, his hands slip out of Blitzø’s and his knees come up to his chest and his arms wrap around his long legs.
And Blitzø feels a searing pain shoot through the place his heart is located. He looks so sad, so heartbroken, so full of genuine emotion.
Blitzø looks at the owl's crumpled form and realises he has a choice. He can run away like he has every single time before, he can add Stolas to his long list of people he's ruined or the people who have ruined him? He's not sure, the two lists are so intermingled it has become impossible to know who is to blame. Maybe his therapist is right, maybe it's not black and white but instead is a jumbled mess of grey.
Regardless, Blitzø has a choice.
He can go, he can leave Stolas like this and he knows the prince will move on, will find someone incredible, someone who deserves him...
Or he can stay. He can work through the uncomfortable feelings and he can maybe build something real here. Something beautiful. Stolas is right, they are complicated but maybe they can work together to make everything less so?
He thinks about Ozzie and Fizz, and how they make it work despite their differences, he thinks about the people he's hurt, the ones he wants to make amends with. He thinks about Stolas and how despite everything between them, he enjoys his time with the owl.
He thinks all of it is worth it if he gets to see Stolas smile again.
“Hey.” He says and Stolas doesn't move, doesn't acknowledge he even spoke. “Hey, Stolz…”
Nope, nothing.
Fuck.
Blitzø gets on all fours and crawls up the sofa, he touches Stolas' leg and ignores how the bird tenses under his touch. He moves in closer, nudges his legs apart and is reminded of that first time when he'd done exactly the same thing in his attempt at seduction. How things had changed.
He moves in and forces the owl's head up so that he can slip between his long, lanky legs. He manages it and sits firmly in the bird's lap, his own knees and feet bracketing Stolas' hips.
Stolas’ face is sad, his mouth downcast and his eyes so full of pain. His eyeliner has started to run slightly and Blitzø’s hand is cupping his cheek before he even realises it. He is beautiful even in his self-inflicted tragedy.
“Hey Stolas, look at me.” Blitzø pushes his face in, blocking out everything else and Stolas' eyes meet his. “I am crap with words, but I choose you okay? Because I want to. I am done trying to kid myself it's not fucking true.”
“Blitzø…” Stolas whispers and his eyes are so shiny and Blitzø wants to kiss him desperately but he won't. He thinks for once in his life, that talking might be the only solution to this.
He is so fucking impressed with himself honestly his therapist is going to actually die next session. But anyway...
He can't give Stolas beautifully crafted sentences in swirling, swooping, gilded letters, but he can show him every single thought he's ever had about this beautiful, sexy, stubborn, lanky asshole of a bitch that he loves so incredibly much.
“I'm not good with words but I have something like your letters… kind of. But like any expectations you have from that just lower them. By a lot..." Blitzø says and he can feel his face heat already.
He is fighting hard against the embarrassment and anxiety that even the thought of sharing his inner monologue brings up, but he can do this for Stolas. Because Stolas is important to him and he needs to know that Blitzø chooses him because he wants to choose him, despite everything.
“I-i uh know…” Stolas confesses and he won't look at him again. His face burns under Blitzø’s hand.
“Oh…” Blitzø says and he jolts back slightly as that fear of rejection rears up again. He doesn't get far though, Stolas knees touch his back in a way that's weirdly comforting.
“Loona must have sent it, I'm sorry to confess that I read some of it.” Stolas meets his eyes now and it’s giving self-loathing to the highest degree. “Up to that night at Ozzie's at least but, Blitzø you must know I stopped. It was such an invasion of privacy and I didn't want to hurt you further by reading it.”
And oh. That's- that's actually really sweet and thoughtful and Blitzø is a little bit pissed at Loona for meddling (although she’s his daughter and he cannot stay mad at her) but Stolas was respectful. Much more respectful than Blitzø would have been. Blitzø would have read the whole thing and then shouted it from the fucking rooftops until all of hell knew how down bad Stolas was for him.
As it is, because Stolas' letters are so beautifully written he wants to keep them to himself forever and ever. Actually no, he wants to hear Stolas recite them as he fucks the owl stupid. But he'll take what he can get.
“I want you to read it. All of it. You have my permission.” Blitzø says and Stolas blinks at him. His surprise is plain on his face but Blitzø keeps his own sure and determined.
“You do?” Stolas’ eyes are searching his features for any hint of doubt. He finds none.
“Yeah.” Blitzø nods and he's sure of this at least. He is cringing internally but as his therapist says, he needs to sit with the discomfort of being vulnerable. That it will get easier. And he thinks about what he wants and because he's feeling cheeky he adds. “I do. But on one condition?"
"Name it," Stolas says, eyeing him gently.
"I want you to read your letters out loud to me whilst I fuck you into your fancy-ass mattress. I want to hear every single one of them like that as you gasp and beg for me, okay?" Stolas' eyes darken immediately and his face flushes.
Blitzø can't help but grin at his reaction, he has always loved how he can make Stolas a horny mess with just a few words.
"Yes! Uh, yes, I can do that, yes. Please yes.”
"Good boy." Blitzø presses a kiss to his cheek and he hears Stolas gulp, "But first my letter thing..."
“Okay, it's downstairs where I left it,” Stolas says his voice is strained still and Blitzø is obsessed, but they make no move to go get the rest of the letters.
“Great, let's go then before I change my fucking mind,” Blitzø says as he takes Stolas' hand in his and he finally feels at home.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Loona
fuck was that them
Octavia
yeah
Loona
Updates?
Octavia
They just went in the kitchen
Octavia
Where did you end up hiding
Loona
Pantry
Loona
Thought about the fridge but too messy
Loona
Wbu
Octavia
Cupboard by the stairs
Octavia
Oh shit they're going back upstairs
Loona
Is that good
Octavia
Your dad's monologue is gone
Loona
Is that good
Octavia
Fuck knows
Octavia
okay think they’re gone
Octavia
bring some snacks when you come out the pantry
Octavia
and let’s bounce, I don’t wanna be here if they’re gonna bang
Loona
Point
Loona
I got yo snacks
Loona
lets go then bitch
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Fuk he gut hert. Didt no he cud gut hert.
Fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fuk fukk fukkkk fukk fukk fukk
Go cee hym cowrd jus go cee hym Buut wot if thay dont let mee in coz im an imp, hoo am I tri in to kidthay wont lit mi in, that won't hoo wud
Guna kil strykr, cant hert wots myne wivout conckwence fuk tho hes hert, hert reel bad nd is mi folt alwaze mi folt fuk fuk
pleez b ohky, pleez lit hym b ohky
pleez
And Stolas feels his heart ache as he reads the panic and the hurt in Blitzø’s writings but it's dampened by the purring of the very same demon who is cuddled up on his chest.
He runs a hand gently down Blitzø’s spines and the imp moans slightly as he nestles his face further into Stolas' feathers. He feels a golden warmth all over his body at Blitzø reaction.
He truly does love this imp. He feels incredibly blessed to be here, to have Blitzø so soft and gentle against him. For the imp to be here because he wants to be. Because he wants to give this thing between them a chance.
It's all he's ever wanted and is so much more than he deserves.
His eyes catch on the page again and then he's lost in Blitzø’s words.
I luv hym
fuk
I luv hym
fuk fuk Fuk fukkk fuk fffuk fuk fuk fukk fuk fuk fuk fuk fukkk fuk fuk fuk fukkkk fukk fuk fukk I luv hym I luv hym
I luv hym
He keeps reading about his fears that the hospital wouldn't let him in to see Stolas, because he was an imp and not of higher demon status. Stolas is making mental notes of all the things he wants to work on with Blitzø. The deal between them is his first and foremost concern but that is part of the power dynamic, the divorce, the perception from others. They both need to work on their self-esteem. That much is obvious.
Stolas isn't stupid, he knows he has many of his own issues to work on separately too and they will talk about all of this and where they want to start with it. He knows these letters hadn’t magically fixed everything between them. The road ahead of them is going to be difficult, they're both going to fuck up and hurt, but hopefully they'll be able to communicate, to heal. Together.
He thinks as Blitzø presses a soft kiss to his chest, that it will be worth it.
He's just read the full moon meeting from the imp's perspective and the aftermath is killing him. He hadn't realised that his actions to free the imp had hurt Blitzø quite so much. He feels guilt rise in his chest yet again and he holds the imp tighter against him.
Blitzø traces a claw along the plane of his stomach in comfort.
He dunt wont me fuk he carnt he darn b siris got 2 b a joke ore a nw rollplay
Ore he fownd nw plaaafing
Haz 2 hav
Y u lt ursef hohp
stoopid stoopid stoopid fuk
He 2 gud 4 stoopid imp like m3
herts
Stolas puts the paper down on the bed beside him and takes a breath as he battles the tears in his eyes. “Blitzø?”
“Hmm?” The imp rouses from his dozing and lifts his head so that he can look the owl in his eyes.
“If you don't kiss me right now, Blitzø, I swear to Satan I will go mad-”
“Damn, my writing is that good?” Blitzø’s sleepy grin is everything to him.
He wants this image framed, wants this moment memorialised in beautiful vibrant oil paints because he's never seen someone look so gently at him. So happily. He is so beautiful.
“It is the best thing I have ever read.” Stolas confesses and he means it.
It's better than any novel because it's one hundred percent, unfiltered and unashamed Blitzø.
“Liar.” Blitzø rolls his eyes but his smile is blinding and his cheeks are flushed.
Still, Stolas can't help being a little bit of a bitch, especially when he suspects that Blitzø likes that from him.
“Sorry, do you honestly want to argue with me now or would you prefer to kiss me senseless?” Stolas counters and he can’t help that haughty tone creeping into his voice. Blitzø just smiles at him like he's the sun, moon and stars combined.
“There's that bitch I love so much.” He doesn't seem to realise what he's said for a moment, but Stolas does.
Stolas has read that Blitzø loves him, but it hits differently to hear the words out loud. Even if it is a passing comment.
Every muscle in his long body is tense as he forces himself not to squeal with excitement. Not to overreact or make Blitzø uncomfortable by how happy his words have made him.
Stolas is practically vibrating under the imp as he lets out a strangled, “What?”
“What?” There's a pause and then he sees Blitzø's eyes open wide and he realises, “Oh shit.”
He can feel Stolas trying to contain his excitement and it's so cute how he's trying to downplay it for him. But Blitzø truly is done trying to pretend he's not an absolute fucking sap for this bird.
Blitzø’s eyes are soft as he gazes at Stolas’ face which is burning and his muscles ache from holding himself so tightly. Blitzø crawls up towards his face, locking their eyes together as he sits in the bird’s lap.
“Well, I mean it.” Blitzø shrugs, his hand strokes Stolas' face which darkens under his touch. “I love you.”
Then, and only then does Stolas let go and his feathers puff up in that way they do when he's excited or overwhelmed. He can't contain the smile on his beak or the tears that flow freely from his eyes. This is so much more than Stolas ever thought he would have. So much more than he could ever have asked for.
They might be in hell but this blessed moment is his personal slice of heaven.
He lets out a gasp and practically melts underneath Blitzø as the imp presses their foreheads together. They spend a moment sharing air and just relishing in each other’s proximity. And then the neediness sets in. Srolas’ talons clutch Blitzø to him tighter and they sting slightly where they scratch his skin but Blitzø isn't complaining.
No, he’s laughing into the bird’s neck as he wraps his arms arms and tail around his shoulders.
“I love you too and I swear to all things unholy, kiss me right fucking now or I may die.” Stolas demands and Blitzø laughs but it's happy, it's loving.
It has Stolas gasping, “Please?”
Blitzø is only too happy to comply with Stolas' demand.