Chapter Text
It felt like sinking. Slowly. Into something that felt impossible to properly describe. Some inescapable heaviness, perhaps. Inescapable because the way out wasn't clear to him. Inescapable because, even though he wanted to try to find a way out, he couldn’t find the will to actually do so.
And that was the easy feeling.
Easier than the squeeze around his heart that knocked him over in unexpected, erratic waves, the feeling not of sinking, but of a current sweeping him under, throwing its weight around to remind Stolas that he was still part of this world, that it was happening to him, and that he was fucking up. He had been, and would always be, fucking it up.
Whispers in his ears, disembodied voices polluting the waters of his consciousness, making even the shallowest of problems seem like oily, endless voids. Like space, but empty. Revealing nothing.
But there was a single light, wasn’t there? Glowing brightly and furiously in the distance, a stubbornness that wasn’t typically attributed to stars. Stars emitted light because that’s simply what stars did. They were made to do so.
But this particular star shined as if no one ever expected it to. Like it had stolen fire from a forbidden place, and now was burning as much as it could before it got caught. And it was burning for Stolas to see, cutting through the oily blackness that he was choking on.
He found himself reaching towards that captivating star, arm heavy and stiff. Then he wavered. What would he do if he reached it? Close his fist around it and hold it to himself? Wouldn’t that snuff it out? Dim its light? Provide Stolas some needed warmth while this star lost its precious, hard-earned fire in the process?
Stolas dropped his hand.
He wasn’t meant to possess the stars, only observe them. He wasn’t meant to escape the cage he was born in, but to make the most of it. He always wanted too much. He needed to be punished for that.
He felt a cold pressure against his forehead. A repeated whack against his cheek. He furrowed his brow in confusion.
“Hey! Who said your feathered ass could squat here?” a familiar voice asked. “Cuz I sure as Satan didn’t, so I better get some good fuckin’ answers before my trigger finger here starts twitchin’, bitch.”
Stolas opened his eyes, vision bleary. He was in a dark room, blanket tucked under his chin. He blinked a few times, slowly remembering where he was, what he was doing here.
What he didn’t understand was why Blitzø was standing over him, sucking on the straw from an iced latte with one hand as he rested the barrel of his gun against Stolas’ forehead with the other.
Blitzø didn’t look particularly bothered as he looked down at Stolas, but there was also none of that familiar warmth in his eyes that Stolas had just begun to get used to.
“Blitzø?” Stolas asked. He heard the smallness in his own voice, the exhaustion.
How pathetic.
The whisper was harsh in his ear, like a sharpening knife. Even though he no longer lived with Stella, he was finding it difficult to get her voice out of his head. If anything, her words were more present than ever. And he found himself believing them even more.
He was being pathetic.
“So ya know my name,” Blitzø observed, yellow eyes basically glowing in the darkness. He sucked at his straw loudly, throat bobbing as he swallowed. “Yeeeeeaah, I don’t like that. ‘Specially since I don’t know yours.” Stolas furrowed his brow in confusion. Then he watched as Blitzø flicked off the gun’s safety as casually as someone would switch off the lights as they left their house. “It’s in your best interest to start squawking fast, cuz I’m not gonna ask again.” He took another loud sip of his coffee. “Not the biggest fan of blowing someone’s brains out while my daughter’s in the other room, but hey,” he shrugged, “I’ve done crazier shit.” He bared his teeth in a smile, all malice and warning. Stolas continued to blink at him.
Blitzø didn’t know his name? And this probably shouldn’t have been at the forefront of Stolas’ mind, but why was he drinking an iced latte in the middle of the night?
“You’ll shoot me?” he asked dumbly, furrowing his brows together as he tried to get his sleepy, disoriented thoughts in order. Did Stolas do something wrong earlier today? Was Blitzø angry with him, too? So angry that he’d finally decided to reject Stolas entirely? To act as if they'd never known each other?
Yes, he must have fucked something up. It’s not as if Stolas didn’t have a track record of hurting those he cared for most. It stung that he had once again done something hurtful without realizing. He hoped he’d gotten better at avoiding that. But evidently not.
He couldn’t help but fixate on the way Blitzø was looking at him. Annoyed. Disconnected. Uncaring. A spark of violence in his eyes was the only real feeling there. He thought about the expression on Octavia’s face before she turned away from him. The last look he would share with her for the next one hundred years. Or ever, most likely. It had been twisted with hurt and betrayal. And Stolas was the one responsible for putting it there.
He wasn’t sinking anymore. He was in the current, smashing against the oppressive density of his own despair. The very velocity knocked the air out of his lungs. There was no escaping this. The light was gone. He’d snuffed it out after all. Or maybe it had left him while it still could.
“Are you stupid?” Blitzø asked, expression bemused now. “Don’t tell me ya broke into this place and fell asleep on my couch by accident or some bullshit –”
“N-no,” Stolas said, a strain in his voice, a hoarseness that was grating to the ear. He moved to sit up and Blitzø pressed the barrel of his gun more firmly against Stolas’ forehead. But he didn’t shoot. Not yet, at least. Stolas met his suspicious gaze, clutching the blanket covered in little horses and horseshoes. But he couldn’t feel the fabric in his hands. He couldn’t feel the metal of the gun on his forehead. He couldn’t feel anything.
He wished he could claim that he was a stranger to such numbness. That this was some foreign feeling. But much of his life he’d tried to numb out, other than his moments with Octavia, and then those precious few with Blitzø.
What was different was that this numbness was no longer an acquaintance. Recently, it felt like an old friend, beckoning him closer. To live with it forever, rather than be a temporary visitor.
Go on. You deserve this.
“Go on,” Stolas said as if possessed, an empty tone in his voice. He felt miles away from his body, his consciousness disembodied and aimless. The heaviness pressed around him. He was being simultaneously swaddled and smothered. An embrace and an unforgiving grip. Much of his life had felt like this. So in a way it felt like home. The home he never wanted, but belonged to, nonetheless.
“Huh?” Blitzø asked. He looked even more confused now.
“Shoot me,” Stolas said. In the past a blessed weapon would be needed, but in the state he was in now…this should do it. Did he want to die? No, he didn’t think he did. But it was difficult to gather the strength to want to live. He’d been trying to keep it together for Blitzø’s sake. He’d been trying so hard. But if Blitzø didn’t want him around anymore, then there was simply no one left to try for.
It was almost relieving. Trying was so exhausting. And he knew his presence had been taking a toll on Blitzø. Stolas had meant to give his life during the trial. He’d prepared himself for that possibility. Now he would die by Blitzø’s hand. That wasn’t so terrible. Numbness wasn’t so terrible.
“Huh,” Blitzø said, lowering the gun and putting a hand on his hip. He gave Stolas a once-over. “You’re a fuckin’ freak. This’s where you’re supposed to be begging me not to kill ya.” He paused, giving Stolas another once-over, a slower one this time. “And I bet you’d look pretty damn good begging.” Stolas continued to look at him, expression blank. He didn’t have the energy for a witty reply. He was still confused as to what he'd done to cause this, but that didn't mean this wasn't deserved. Blitzø looked at him in confusion again. Then he shrugged, lifting his gun to aim at Stolas’ head once more. “I mean if that’s what ya want –”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Loona asked, and Stolas looked over to see Loona standing in the doorway to her bedroom, still in her pajamas. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, looking at Blitzø like he just grew another head. “This some fucked new foreplay? Cuz gross, and don’t do that shit when there’s a thin-ass wall between us.”
“I don’t bring guns into the bedroom, Loonie,” Blitzø explained, waving the gun around as he gestured, still holding the iced latte with his other hand. “Other weapons, sure, but this baby is strictly for bidness. And right now I’m gettin’ rid of a B&E pervert, so go back to sleep while I –”
“What’re you even talking about?” Loona asked, looking irritated. “Last time I checked Stolas didn’t break and enter. You held his hand as you brought him through the door –”
“Woah woah woah,” Blitzø interrupted. “First, I don’t do any-a that sappy crap like ‘hold hands’,” he took another loud slurp of his coffee, still waving his gun around, “and B, why the fuck does the name ‘Stolas’ sound so familiar?” He turned to look at Stolas, giving him another once-over. “What? Are you, like, a famous porn star or something?” He paused, seeming to think it over as his gaze dragged over Stolas’ blanket-covered body, landing at where his feet were poking out, resting on the arm of the couch. “I feel like I’d remember those long-ass legs, though.”
“If you two are fucking with me I swear to Satan,” Loona said, rubbing her temples and looking pissed. “Put the gun down,” she said to Blitzø. “And why’re you drinking coffee in the middle of the night?” She looked at the plastic cup he was holding, eyes narrowing. “Where’d you even get that? That place shut down a while ago.” She nodded at the logo on the cup.
“Huh? Shut down?” Blitzø asked, putting the gun in his holster. That’s when Stolas realized he was wearing his typical work outfit – long black coat, skull pendant on his neck, boots. He’d been lying on the bean bag in his pajamas only a few hours ago, before Stolas finally drifted off to sleep. “Nuh-uh. I literally just came back from there. I went to get us coffee, remember?” He looked over at the kitchen, brow furrowed in confusion. “I left yours right there. And why’d it get so fucking dark all of a sudden? It’s almost noon –”
Stolas and Loona looked at each other at the same time.
“Okay, so something’s up here,” Loona said to him. Stolas frowned, giving her a small nod.
“I fear you’re right, dear.”
“Uhhhhh what makes you think you can go around calling my daughter ‘dear’, asswipe?” Blitzø said, hand hovering over his holster as he glared at Stolas. Then he glanced at Loona. “This bird a friend-a yours? That why his name sounds so familiar?” He let out a fatherly sigh. “Look, I don’t mind you lettin’ a friend crash here, Loonie, but give me a heads up so I don’t blast a hole through their skull by accident.” He looked back at Stolas. “But I gotta say, can’t really picture ya shooting the shit with someone who sounds like they just got back from ~high tea~ –”
Loona disappeared into her room and Stolas watched her go in surprise, worried that she left him to deal with…whatever the fuck this was. But thankfully she returned a moment later with her phone in hand. She typed something out, then held her phone to her ear.
“Hey…yeah, I know it’s the middle of the night, dickhead. But it’s an emergency so get your assess down here now.” There was a pause. She rolled her eyes. “I can call you whatever I want. And of course that’s what gets your little panties in a twist, not the fact that I just said there’s an emergency –” She glanced over at Blitzø. Then she raised a brow, looking surprised. “Uh, he doesn’t have it on him. One sec. Where’s your crystal?” she asked Blitzø.
“My huh-now?” Then Blitzø’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Ohhhhhh are ya into meth, now, sweetie? This bird your rich-bitch supplier?” He whacked Stolas’ arm with his tail. Loona sighed.
“He doesn’t have it,” she said into the phone. Another pause. “I don’t fucking know! That’s why I called, dumbass! So hop off my dick and get over here already!” She hung up the phone, grumbling to herself as she put a hand on her hip. She looked at Stolas now.
“Any idea what this’s about?” she asked, gesturing vaguely to Blitzø. Stolas shook his head, his assumption that Blitzø was finally cutting him loose seemingly incorrect.
“I was asleep,” he explained. “And to my knowledge there was nothing amiss before that. Did you notice anything strange today?”
“Other than that freak-of-nature rat he cooked? No.” She paused, expression thoughtful. “Actually, he looked antsy when we were getting ready for bed. Like he was hiding something. But I figured it wasn’t anything serious.” Stolas saw a flash of concern in her gaze as she looked over at Blitzø. “But maybe it was.”
“Okaaay, so how ‘bout we stop talkin’ like I’m not in the room, and start givin’ me some answers,” Blitzø suggested, taking one last, long, loud slurp of his coffee before tossing it over to Stolas. Stolas managed to catch the cup at the last second, although there was some fumbling involved. Blitzø look at him with interest. Then there was a spark of recognition in those yellow eyes.
Stolas watched as Blitzø hurried over to the light switch, flicking it on. Loona covered her eyes, letting out a groan of protest.
“Warn us first, dipshit!”
“Yeah yeah, my bad, sweetie,” Blitzø said distractedly, running back over to Stolas and hopping onto the couch to kneel next to him. Stolas held the cup to his chest in surprise, bending his legs towards himself to give Blitzø room. “Lemme get a better look atcha.” He grabbed the shirt Stolas was wearing and tugged him closer.
Stolas blinked, at a loss for words as Blitzø’s gaze roamed over his face. He could feel a heat rise in his cheeks from the proximity. Then Blitzø let out a laugh, pushing Stolas away from him.
“Well fuck me sideways! You’re that royal I was forced to play with! You’re a helluva lot taller now. It kinda pisses me off.” Then Blitzø seemed to realize something else. Stolas watched as he glanced over at the calendar on the wall, then gave Stolas a grin that was a tad unsettling. Maybe because it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “I was actually plannin’ on paying ya a ‘lil visit this week. What a coincidence.”
To say that Stolas was completely baffled by what was going on would be an understatement. Blitzø was operating at a mile a minute. Was it the caffeine? No, there must be a greater issue here. But Stolas still couldn’t place why Blitzø was acting so strangely, and he was having trouble anticipating what he’d do next.
And fuck, knowing what would happen next used to be his job.
You were never good at that anyway. Did the stars ever tell you that you’d lose your daughter? I bet the universe was laughing at you as it watched your life get taken away, all for a lowly creature that was just about to shoot you!
Malevolent laughter rattled around in his mind.
“Who woulda thought that royals deal meth,” Blitzø mused, still on the couch. He shifted to sit cross-legged now, still fully facing Stolas. “That how your family managed to buy that big-ass palace? How many bags did it take to get that chandelier?” He laughed. “I’m not a narc. Just curious. I’m tryna start up a new business me-self, and damn is it a bitch to get off the ground. And I loooove gettin’ things off,” he added with a wink.
His tone sounded friendly, but Stolas could tell that there was no real friendliness there. It all felt like…like some sort of performance. His eyes widened as Blitzø crawled towards him, yellow eyes flashing as he nudged Stolas’ legs open, positioning himself over Stolas’ still blanket-covered lap and leaning in close.
“Ever hear that saying ‘bout scratching baaacks?" Stolas could smell sweetness and coffee on his breath. "Maybe if you help me out with my operation, ya won’t see an inside scoop about your operation on 666 News. They got a sexy news anchor there I wouldn’t mind chattin’ with...”
“So you are a narc,” Loona pointed out dryly, leaning against her doorframe.
“I can be whatever I need to be,” Blitzø said, still looking at Stolas. He was adding a rough, seductive quality to his voice now. “If ya catch my drift, your highness.” Again, no warmth in his expression. If anything, the way Blitzø was looking at Stolas looked a lot like…resentment.
“Not to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m, erm, no longer a royal, so…” Stolas managed to say, bunching up the blanket in his hands. At least he could feel the fabric now. Blitzø’s unusual behavior had snapped him back to reality, although this seemed stranger than fiction. Was it foreplay? But he and Blitzø hadn’t been intimate in that way since…
Since he took off once you gave him what he really wanted. A way out. Since he told you that you’re an unlovable, disgusting, waste of space that only made his life worse –
“Well tits,” Blitzø said, moving off of Stolas to sit at the other end of the couch, pressing his back against the arm. He tipped his head back to look at Loona. “So what’s the deal here, Loonie? Get me up to speed.” He paused. “Am I the one on speed –?”
“You’re not on meth, idiot,” Loona said, rolling her eyes. She hesitated. “At least, I don’t think so. But something’s off about you. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I told ya, I was gettin’ coffee –” then Blitzø straightened his posture, putting a hand on his forehead. “Shit. We have a fuck-ton of jobs today, and I was already running late cuz Moxxie texted me some stupid-ass order –” He hopped off the couch to stand, turning to face Loona. It was as if Stolas wasn’t there anymore. “We gotta get to the van and grab M&M, like, now –”
“They’re already on their way here,” Loona explained. “And we don’t have any jobs right now, cuz it’s the middle of the night. That’s why it’s dark outside.” She gestured to the window looking out at the fire escape. Blitzø hurried over to it, parting the blinds and pressing his face against the glass, tail flicking in agitation.
“But it was just light outside!” he argued stubbornly. “Like literally 5 minutes ago!” Loona groaned.
“It’s too early to deal with this,” she mumbled, running a hand down her face. She looked over at Stolas. “Can you, like, help?”
“O-of course,” Stolas said. He set the plastic cup on the side table and delicately pushed the blanket off of him, moving to stand. He clasped his hands together. “Um, Blitzø?”
“Yeah, your lowness?” Blitzø said, turning to face him. The blinds rattled when he let them go. Stolas cleared his throat, shifting self-consciously on his talons.
“Ahem. Just to review, you retrieved coffee this morning, and today you were meant to complete a variety of jobs.” Stolas decided to start there.
“Yeah. But ya make it sound like I’m some kinda hooker. ‘Completing’ a variety of ‘jobs’.” Blitzø shook his fist up and down in a suggestive way for emphasis. “That ain’t my line-a work, tall-ass. I’d be fucking good at it though.” Stolas blinked at him.
“Right.” Stolas knew that Blitzø would be good at it from experience. A thought that would’ve made him blush months ago, but now produced pangs of guilt and confusion. “Then, what is your line of work?”
“You already know what we do,” Loona said, furrowing her brow in confusion. Stolas gave her a nod.
“I’m only attempting to narrow things down, dear. I promise my question has a purpose.” She shrugged.
“Kay Dad, answer the question,” she said tiredly. Blitzø pupils blew wide. He clasped his hands together, tucking them under his chin.
“Call me Dad again 'n I’ll answer as many of his stupid-ass questions as ya want, Loonie-Toonieeeeee –”
“Stop being weird and answer the question!” she said with a frustrated growl. Blitzø pouted but shook it off easily, turning his attention back to Stolas.
“I kill people,” he answered, gesturing to his holster and looking at Stolas, a dangerous glint in his eye as he grinned. “Ya know, shootin’ and stabbin’ any sorry fuck down here that’ll make us some cash.” He paused, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Buuuuuuuut I’m takin’ my business topside once I get a ticket to the living world. Speaking of, any chance ya still have that magic book? Or did that come with the whole ‘royal’ package?”
“Wait,” Loona said, looking over at Stolas, concern even more obvious in her expression now. Stolas exhaled.
“One more question,” Stolas said, looking back at Blitzø. “If you’ll indulge me.”
“Dunno what ‘indulge’ means,” Blitzø began, leaning his weight on one hip and looking bored now, “but it sounds sexy and I’m not a hooker, at least not for an ex-royal who can give me dick in return, or I guess, not even dick. Don’t birds have somethin’ else going on down there –?”
“You’re gonna be so pissed at yourself when you’re back to normal,” Loona said, shaking her head. Blitzø looked at her in confusion. Stolas swallowed, doing his best to put on a smile.
Blitzø had been treading so carefully around him ever since the trial. As if Stolas was glass that would shatter at any moment. He didn’t deserve such consideration, but he also didn’t blame Blitzø for his behavior. He did feel that way himself. And in this moment he could feel cracks forming.
See? You were stupid enough to think that he could have feelings for someone like you, when he only threw himself at you to get what he wanted. Your grimoire. And because you let him take it thinking he could grow to love you, you lost everything. It was all in your head! Like I’m in your head. But that hope was a stupid fantasy. I’m the reality, Sto-las. Listen to me listen to me listen to me –
Stolas moved to sit down on the couch, hugging his arms to his chest as his head swam. He was sinking again. He was sinking and there was nothing to hold on to anymore, not even a guiding light to show him which way was up –
“Hey,” Loona said, and suddenly she was sitting next to him on the couch, hand on his shoulder. “He’s not himself right now, yeah? So, uh, what was that question you were gonna ask?” Stolas nodded, thoughts jumbled and sluggish.
“Right, I–I think, I was going to…” he began, squeezing his eyes closed as he tried to organize his thoughts. Loona kept her hand on his shoulder. It was something to focus on. Something to tether him here. He swallowed thickly. Then he exhaled, opening his eyes and lifting his gaze to look at Blitzø, who was looking at the two of them in utter confusion, hand back to hovering over his holster. “What am I to you?” he finally asked.
He wasn’t sure what answer he wanted at this point. Honestly, it was a question that crossed his mind more than once since he began living here. It crossed his mind even before then, so often that much of his subconscious was entangled in it. The one time he mustered the courage to inquire, on the night of that full moon, he was revealed as the monster he knew deep down that he was. That he always had been.
He wondered what Blitzø would say now. After everything. Or, really, if his suspicion was correct as to what was going on here, after nothing.
“Uhhhh, this some sorta riddle? Cuz I can’t fuckin’ stand riddles.”
“Just answer the question, D-“ Loona began. Blitzø’s eyes widened in excitement, tail whishing from side to side, “-ipshit,” she finished, looking at him stubbornly. He deflated.
“Fine. You’re some random royal I spent the day with when we were kids,” he said with a shrug. “There was some fancy-ass chandelier, some boring books, a lotta expensive shit, a big tree. I think we talked about horses? And you showed me your magic book. That about sum it up?”
“Yes,” Stolas said quietly. He continued to hug his arms to his chest, trying to ignore the spiteful laughter in his head.
“That’s not good,” Loona said quietly, looking at him. She removed her hand from his shoulder. “Why’s he like this?” Stolas shook his head.
“I’m not sure,” he replied just as quietly. “If I still had my grimoire I could better ascertain the cause. I assume this is the work of a spell, somehow, but –”
“Hey! I can hear you whispering!” Blitzø said impatiently, still standing by the window. “What, did I get the riddle wrong? I told you I don’t fuck with ‘em –”
“Yeah, you did get it wrong!” Loona shot back, annoyed. “You’re supposed to know who Stolas is! And we already kill people in the living world. So we need to figure out why your head’s emptier than usual!”
“Hey, my head’s plenty full! Both of ‘em!” Blitzø protested, looking at Stolas as he said that last part, giving a thrust of his hips and an inauthentic grin. Stolas frowned.
“You’re such a perv!” Loona said, springing up to stand. “Why couldn’t you forget that instead of the important shit!”
“I didn’t forget you!” Blitzø pointed out, waving his arms. “I didn’t forget M&M! So clearly I got the most important shit locked up!” He tapped his finger against his temple. Loona opened her mouth to argue, then hesitated.
“Fine,” she said with a frown. “You still remember some of the most important shit.” She glanced at Stolas before looking back at Blitzø.
“Yeah! Cut me some slack here, sweetie,” he said, putting a hand on his hip. Then he seemed to realize something. “And don’t tell Moxxie I called him important, cuz I’ll deny the shit outta that.” Loona scoffed.
“It’s like we traveled back in time. You haven’t been this…this, in a while,” she observed. Stolas’ eyes widened.
“That’s it!” he said, placing his fist in his palm as he sprung to his feet. Loona and Blitzø looked at him in surprise. This was the most emotion he showed all day. “I-I mean, I think I may have a hypothesis.” Blitzø winced in sympathy.
“Oof. Hey, you’re not alone. Loonie here has syphilis and boy have I had my share of STDs –”
“I don’t have that anymore!” Loona said defensively, crossing her arms. “And don’t just bring that up, asshole!”
“What I mean is that I have an educated guess,” Stolas explained patiently. “I was wondering if you somehow lost your memories. The grimoire does have a spell for that, but I have a sneaking suspicion that this isn’t a matter of lost memory, but time.” He walked up to Blitzø, and Blitzø instinctively took a step back. Stolas ignored the way that stung. “May I see your left hand, please?” he asked gently. Blitzø still looked wary. “I don’t have any magic, not anymore, nor do I have any influence, so I promise that you’re in no danger.” That got Blitzø to relax more, although there was still suspicion in his expression. He held out his left hand, right hand back to hovering next to his holster.
Stolas gently took Blitzø’s hand, resting it on his palm.
“May I remove this?” Stolas asked, nodding at the round bracer on his wrist. As Loona had observed earlier, the Asmodean crystal wasn’t there. Instead, there was the yellow, oval decoration he used to wear, matching the one on his right wrist.
“Uhhhh tryna undress me?” Blitzø joked, but he looked uncertain. Stolas shook his head.
“I just need to check your wrist,” he explained. Blitzø sighed.
“Sure. Go ahead. But if those fingers start creepin’ near any holes –” he started to warn. Loona let out a noise of disgust. Stolas gave him a polite, strained smile, and then proceeded to remove his bracer and fingerless glove with medical precision, lingering nowhere, all business. He saw the white marking that Blitzø usually hid. What he didn’t see was a rat bite. He nodded once, putting the glove and bracer back on and taking a step back.
Blitzø had tried to hide it from him earlier today, but Stolas had noticed the new bite. He noticed all the bites Blitzø had gotten from going into various alleys to catch rats. All so Stolas could eat the food he preferred. Lucifer he was so spoiled.
You’re not just spoiled. You’re a burden to anyone who has the misfortune to interact with you. Even more so to the ones who are forced to live with you –
“You mentioned that you planned to visit me this week?” Stolas asked. Blitzø blinked at him in confusion, looking at his wrist before looking back up at him.
“Uhhhhh, yeahhhh,” he said, clearly hiding something. Stolas felt a stab of bittersweet fondness. Blitzø had never been a very good liar. It was a fact that took Stolas some time to realize, but once he did it was incredibly obvious. He couldn’t help but find it endearing as much as it could be exasperating.
“You planned to take the grimoire, yes?” Stolas continued. “My, erm, fancy magic book?”
“Whaaaat? N-no!” Blitzø said, waving him off. “What gave you that idea? I just wanted to, uh, reconnect with an old friend –”
“And by ‘friend’, you mean some ‘random royal’ you spent the day with when you were a child?” Stolas asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at Blitzø. “My, how sentimental,” he added dryly.
“Hey! I don’t appreciate the sass, bitch!”
“So he’s from the past or something?” Loona asked. Stolas turned to face her.
“I believe so. Specifically, from around the time right before he absconded with my grimoire.”
“I don’t know what ‘abs-whatever’ means, so I sure as hell didn’t do dick with your book!” Blitzø protested.
“So when business was shit, and before you two, uh…” Loona said, hesitating, “…reconnected.” Stolas let out a surprised laugh, although there was little humor in it.
“What a polite way of putting it, dear.”
“Fuuuuck he was such a dick back then,” she said with a groan. “How do we send him back?”
“The fuck?” Blitzø crossed his arms, clearly offended.
“I still don’t fully understand how he got here in the first place,” Stolas admitted, shaking his head. He walked around the couch, pressing his hands against the back of it as he tried to think. “There is a spell in the grimoire that can accomplish this, but I’ve never performed it. It’s one of the spells I was advised against attempting, since it can be unpredictable.”
“Yeah, clearly,” Loona said, gesturing to Blitzø. “What do we do, then? This mean we need your book?” Stolas frowned.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said with a sigh. “My understanding is that Andrealphus has it at the moment. Or possibly…” his throat closed up. He was finding it hard to even say Octavia’s name aloud. He noticed the sympathy in Loona’s expression. He gave her a forced smile and looked away.
“We’ll figure something out,” she assured him. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll let me borrow it?”
“Who the fuck is ‘she’?” Blitzø asked. Loona sighed.
“Don’t worry about it. We’re gonna get you back to the time you’re supposed to be in. But until then…don’t do anything stupid.”
“Pssht, when do I ever –?” Blitzø began, but he stopped when he saw Loona’s unimpressed look. “Fine. Hear ya loud ‘n clear, Loonie. I’ll keep a low profile or whatever. But what about this guy?” He gestured at Stolas. “I still don’t get why he was sleeping on our couch. Is he, like, our roommate? How the fuck did that even happen –?”
“He’s…uh…he’s pretty much your…” Loona tried to explain, glancing at Stolas and looking uncertain. Stolas worried at his bottom lip with his beak. He caught the way Blitzø looked at him. Still suspicious. Still detached.
“I’m your employee!” he blurted out. Loona’s eyes widened a fraction. Then she shrugged. It wasn’t a lie, technically. Blitzø laughed.
“Good one! What? You hot shit with a gun? Or are ya like Millie and like the ol’ stabby slicey more?” He kept laughing. “Just don’t tell me your weapon of choice is some posh bullshit like a bow or I’ll actually piss myself –”
“He’s our secretary,” Loona explained. Blitzø looked at her in confusion.
“Uh, with what office?” he asked. “Wait, we don’t pay him, right –?” Loona sighed. Then there was a loud, hurried knock at the door.
“Thank fuck,” she breathed, heading to the door and opening it. Stolas watched as Moxxie and Millie rushed in, holding their weapons. They were still in what appeared to be their pajamas.
“What’s going on?” Moxxie said, panicked. “Is Satan after us again?”
“Do we needa destroy more shit?” Millie asked, gripping her axe with both hands. “They’re sure-as-hell not takin’ Blitzø this time! I’ll fuck up any dickhead who tries!” She was looking around the room as if she’d been looking for a fight all day.
“Blitzø!” Moxxie rushed over to him, grabbing his shoulder with the hand not holding a gun and shaking him. Then he grabbed Blitzø’s arm, looking at his wrist and flapping it wildly. “What happened to the crystal! What’s going on? I’m not good with middle-of-the-night emergencieeeess,” he whined, letting out quite hyperbolic sobs as he slid to the ground, still holding onto Blitzø. Blitzø yanked his arm away, putting his hands on his hips.
“Callin’ me by my actual name, eh?” Blitzø said, giving him a once-over. “Getting’ pretty bold off the clock, ain’tcha, Moxx? What? Your balls finally drop? I told Millie to text me when that finally happened.” Stolas watched as Moxxie and Millie looked at Blitzø in confusion.
“You good, B?” Millie asked, walking over to him and giving him a once-over. “You seem…off.” Blitzø scoffed.
“Is future me really that different?” he asked no one in particular. “Am I some kinda dipshit, now? A pushover? Moxxie doesn’t call me ‘sir’ and a rich bird I haven’t seen in like 30 years has made himself right at home in my apartment –”
Moxxie made a choking noise. Millie’s eyes widened. Moxxie moved to stand, turning to look at Loona and Stolas.
“What’s going on?” he asked for the third time, switching his gaze back and forth like he was trying to figure out who to even ask. Loona shut the door to the hallway and moved to rejoin them, resting her hip against the wall. She glanced over at Blitzø before looking at Stolas.
“W-well," Stolas began, clearing his throat. "It’s just…um…” He took his hands off the back of the couch, twining his fingers together as he felt everyone's attention on him. He was still struggling to get his bearings here, and was only beginning to comprehend what he’d just lost.
He looked at how Millie and Moxxie were on either side of Blitzø, and Loona was less than a meter away herself. It was as if the four of them had gravitated towards each other like it was the most natural thing in the world. And Stolas was alone on the other side of the couch, watching. A mere bystander. A faceless member of the audience.
This Blitzø from the past knew everyone else in the room extremely well. He trusted them. He barely knew Stolas. He didn’t care about Stolas.
Everything is as it should be now. You think this is a curse? For him it’s a blessing. He doesn’t have to deal with you anymore. And there’s no way you’re getting the grimoire back. I won’t allow it. So this is what it’s going to be like forever. You. Unloved. Unwanted. Out of place –
“I-I just need a moment!” he blurted out, quickly heading for the apartment door. He waved his hand out of habit, then remembered he couldn’t magically move objects around anymore. Fuck. He used his hand to twist the doorknob and pull the door open. Then he hurried into the hallway, hugging himself as he walked a few doors down.
He was such a mess. They all needed answers, and he was the only one who could at least partially explain. He shouldn’t be running away like this. Oh but he was so good at it.
He pressed his back against the wall, sliding downwards and closing his eyes. There was a tightness in his chest, a burn in this throat.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Blitzø was looking at him now, when only a few hours ago he’d been looking at him with such tenderness and patience. And yet, Stolas also couldn’t help but notice how unburdened this Blitzø seemed.
It was as if Stolas had finally sunk to the bottom, finally reached an end to this seemingly endless darkness, and there was no one here to pull him out.
Or had he just been pulling Blitzø down with him all this time?
“Shit,” he said to no one, hitting his palms against his forehead and keeping them there.
There’s no place for you anywhere, Stolas. This is what banishment should feel like. This is what it feels like to have everything taken from you. This is what you tried to do to me –
“Hey,” Loona’s soft voice cut through Stella’s. Stolas cracked open an eye to see Loona standing over him. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Goetia weren’t meant to have such pathetic outbursts. But he was hardly a Goetia now, so why did he still care about such things? Fuck that pretentious etiquette. What purpose had it served in his life besides bolstering a façade that had been covered in gilded prison bars?
He hugged his knees to his chest, pressing his forehead against them. Loona moved to sit next to him.
“I’m sorry, Loona. I should be more helpful in this moment,” he said quietly, voice wavering. “I just…”
“I get it.” she said. She let out a bitter laugh. “This is fucked. Especially for you.”
“This isn’t about me,” Stolas said, shaking his head. “And yet that’s what I’m doing. That’s what I always manage to do –”
“You’re allowed to take a breather,” she said with a shrug, seemingly unbothered. “If Blitzø – our Blitzø – was here, he’d want that for you.” She let out a scoff. “He’d probably be tackling his past self to the ground right now and yelling at him to stop being such a prick.” Stolas’ beak twitched up in the smallest of smiles. He lifted his head to look at Loona.
She looked tired, which was understandable given that she’d been woken up in the middle of the night and thrown into this mess. He reached out to smooth her bedhead. She looked surprised, and Stolas pulled his hand away. He’d done that without thinking. It was something he used to do with Octavia, particularly on mornings when she’d clearly rolled out of bed. He opened his beak to apologize, but then Loona smirked, looking amused.
“Just don’t disappear on us, got it? Cuz I really need your help to fix this,” she said firmly, but there was also a vulnerability in her voice. His heart clenched painfully.
He remembered when Octavia had that nightmare about him disappearing. He assured her that everything would be okay. But he was wrong. Nothing was okay. And he did disappear, after all.
“We’ll fix this,” he promised. “But…” he glanced down the hallway towards the apartment, “it might take some time.” Loona frowned, but she nodded.
“I figured.” She groaned, leaning her head against the wall and looking up at the stained, sinking ceiling. “We have so many clients coming in today.” She paused, puffing out her cheeks. “Should we cancel ‘em? It’s not like we can get to the living world right now.” Stolas racked his brain for a solution. He knew that Blitzø needed to build up his business while they had this new influx of interest, and his business was important to him. Thankfully an idea came to mind.
“I will make a call. I may be able to solve this whole ‘missing crystal’ problem swiftly enough, at least,” he decided. “And these are the initial meetings, yes? So we can handle those, and schedule the jobs themselves for a later date. That will buy us some time.”
“Okay…yeah, that could work,” Loona said, nodding slowly. She moved to stand. Then she offered her hand to Stolas. Stolas smiled and accepted it, moving to his feet as well. Then they heard yelling coming from the apartment, the two of them wincing as they looked at each other. “Dammit. I’m gonna go handle that,” she said. “You have a mysterious call to make, yeah? So come back when you’re ready.” She handed her phone to Stolas, emphasizing the ‘when you’re ready’ part.
“Thank you, dear,” he said, giving her an appreciative smile. She gave him a nod. Then she seemed to realize something.
“If past Blitzø is here…” she began, brow furrowed, “where’s our Blitzø, anyway?” Stolas sighed.
“When is the real question. If I’m recalling the spell correctly, present Blitzø and past Blitzø have swapped places, meaning that present Blitzø is in the past, doing Lucifer knows what.”
“Shit,” Loona said with a grimace. Stolas nodded. His imagination was running wild.
“Truthfully I have no clue how the spell even activated in the first place. That’s what I’m currently stuck on. The only way for it to work is if –”
“YOUR OLD MAN’S A MAFIA BOSS???” Blitzø’s yell could be heard from down the hall. Loona gave Stolas a tired look.
“We can discuss the specifics later,” he said. She gave him another nod, then headed back to the apartment. Stolas watched her close the door, leaving it open a crack.
He looked down at the phone in his hands. Then he took a breath - a large inhale followed by a slow, steady exhale.
He typed in the number, lifting Loona's phone to his ear. It rang for a while and then went to voicemail. Shit. He heard the beep that signified the beginning of the recording.
"H-hello Asmodeus!" he said, trying to sound cheery, though he could tell his voice sounded strained. "So sorry for bothering you, but we're in a bit of a pickle here, and, um...as someone who...well, appreciates phallic-shaped objects I thought that you may be amenable to helping us -" He let out a startled squawk when he heard the sound of the call being picked up.
"You better have a good reason for calling me in the middle of the night, Stolas.” Stolas winced. He’d forgotten about the time of day. It had to be very early morning at this point.
“Apologies, Asmodeus. I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t…well, an urgent problem that only you could assist with.”
“Phallic-shaped, right? You have my attention. How sexy are we talking? Interested in trying out some new kinks? Maybe it’s too soon, but the chains from that trial gave me some ideas –” Stolas let out an uncomfortable laugh.
“I must apologize again. It’s quite an unsexy, erm, pickle.” He could practically hear Asmodeus’ growing disinterest. “However! Speaking of the trial,” he quickly continued, “I recall overhearing that Fizzarolli was a bit upset by what, erm, almost happened. I can offer an opportunity for you to make it up to him, if you would be interested…” There was silence on the other end for a long moment. Stolas tapped his talons nervously against the worn floorboards. He knew this was a gamble. It wasn’t as if he and Asmodeus were best friends. But Blitzø and Fizzarolli seemed to be close, at least based on his limited knowledge, so…
“Hmm. Part of me is tempted to be petty and hang up since I didn’t do anything wrong,” Asmodeus mused aloud. He was right, of course. Stolas wouldn’t have expected Asmodeus to defy Satan himself for either of their sakes, “but you’ve piqued my interest, so keep talking and I’ll decide if I’m interested in this unsexy little favor you have brewing.”
“Excellent,” Stolas said, letting out a small, relieved sigh. He began slowly pacing up and down the hall as he explained his proposal with Asmodeus, who was thankfully quite agreeable. Perhaps he did feel a tad guilty after all.
Weirdly, there was something – not nice, per se – but grounding about having a task to do. Something to accomplish. A way he could be of use. A way to help Blitzø, for once, without so unfairly requiring anything in return.
You can’t silence me. I’ll always been here Sto-las. Reminding you of just how worthless you are, and always have been.
Stolas frowned, trying to focus on the phone call. He’d been heavily relying on Blitzø’s support as of late, especially since Octavia severed ties with him. And now he could feel himself at the bottom of this ink-black ocean, alone. But he was determined to claw his way out of it. He was determined to tread this black, oily void. To get through this phone call. To get through whatever was waiting for him when he returned to the apartment. To keep his head above the darkness until he was certain that Blitzø, his family, and his business would be okay.
And yet, as much as he was eager to be of use, part of him feared how he would fare without his Blitzø, even for a short while.
His Blitzø.
Was Blitzø ever really his? Was he really ever Blitzø’s?
“Stolas?” Asmodeus asked. Stolas blinked, realizing that he’d allowed himself to become distracted. He pressed his fingertips to his forehead, trying to massage the unproductive thoughts away.
“I’m here. Sorry. Would it be possible to meet at the I.M.P. office later today?”
“Sure, I'll pencil you in. I want to hear more about what exactly’s going on,” Asmodeus said, part intrigued, part uneasy. “I mean, a time travel spell? Sounds messy…hmm...aaand full of kink potential!” He said that last part more brightly. Stolas thought he could hear the scratch of a pen. Was Asmodeus was jotting a note down?
“I’m coming too!” Fizzarolli said, suddenly on the phone. “That asshole’s been dodging me since the trial and now he has the balls to, what? Fuck off to the past?”
“Yes. Which means you’ll be interacting with a past version of Blitzø at the office, so he’ll have no idea about that,” Stolas patiently explained. His thoughts wandered to present Blitzø again, who was, critically, very much not present at the moment. Stolas frowned. He hoped that he could repossess the grimoire quickly and put everything right before something bad happened, in the present or in the past.
“Shit, right. How far back are we talkin’?”
“My approximation is some time before he, well…borrowed my grimoire for the first time.”
“Yikes, so before me and Blitzø got kidnapped,” Fizzarolli said. “Just my luck.” Stolas’ eyes widened.
“Wait, you both got kidnapped?” he asked, gripping the phone. He only knew that Fizzarolli had been abducted that day. He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time. “Y-yes, it seems so. We can discuss more when you arrive at the office. I’ll let you get back to your rest –”
“Ooooh we weren’t resting,” Asmodeus said suggestively, and Stolas could hear Fizzarolli’s giggle. Stolas felt his face warm. “But that works for us, birdie babe. I had a feeling this would be a juicy call. Just not the kind of juice I was expecting, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I see…ha!” Stolas let out a half-hearted laugh. “Then I’ll let you return to your…erm…I will see you both later! Goodbye!” he stumbled out. He could hear Asmodeus’ chuckle as he hung up.
“Hey desk bitch!” Stolas quickly turned, surprised, to see Blitzø’s head popping out from behind the apartment door. “Time to catch me up to speed on how my business is going. Loona said I pay ya so I’m gettin’ my money’s worth!”
“R-right,” Stolas said, clearing his throat as he tried to ignore the fact that he found Blitzø’s demands incredibly sexy. Because, to this Blitzø, Stolas meant nothing to him besides a fuzzy childhood memory and a ticket to the living world that was now expired. He needed to remind himself of that and stay focused.
He took a deep breath and headed back to the apartment. He could do this. This was fine. Everything was fine. And it was temporary. He would get hold of the grimoire somehow.
Ha! I could never tell whether you were stupid or delusional! Maybe it’s both!
He tried to block out the voice. He’d just have to ignore it. He’d have to ignore a lot of feelings and let the rational part of his brain take over. This was how numbness had protected him in the past. He could use it to his advantage again. It didn’t have the same panache as a bow, but perhaps this was his weapon.
Blitzø was waiting for him in the doorway, tail flicking impatiently and eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“You know, it’s quite flattering that you still perceive me as a threat,” Stolas managed to tease, leaning into his personal brand of pettiness as he looked down at Blitzø. This was his, albeit weak attempt to cut through the tension and grief that had been suffocating enough to make him leave the apartment in the first place.
Blitzø barked out a laugh, crossing him arms and looking up at Stolas.
“In your wet dreams, your lowness.”
“Perhaps in yours as well. I bet you secretly like that sort of thing, given your penchant for having weapons in the bedroom, hm?” Stolas shot back, giving Blitzø his most insufferable smirk as he walked past him. He could feel Blitzø’s eyes on him, could hear his growl, but he refused to turn around, trying to maintain this aloof air he’d put on. Numbness. That was the goal.
“OoOoooh well you should also bet your ass that we’re gonna have a meeting where I’ll tell ya exactly where you can stick your pench-whatever-the-fuck –!”
“Sounds kinky, Blitzø,” Millie pointed out from where she was standing by the couch, a smirk tugging at her lips. Loona shook her head tiredly. Moxxie looked between Blitzø and Stolas, clearly nervous.
“Ha! This bird wishes!” Blitzø shot back, slamming the door behind him. “Blue-blood pricks like him’re so uptight they’ve never unclenched their assholes long enough to know what a good fucking’s like!” Stolas tensed his shoulders
“Shut up, D-!” Loona began, glaring at Blitzø. "Ugh! Blitzø!" Stolas turned around to face Blitzø again, clasping his hands in front of him and giving Blitzø a strained smile.
“I’ll make sure to pencil in that…important meeting,” he said, giving Blitzø a small, sarcastic bow. “You’re the boss after all.” He stubbornly ignored the way his face warmed. Oh how he would love a meeting that involved Blitzø going into detail about all the things he’d stick inside of him. Maybe if he was lucky Blitzø would show him right there in his office, Stolas laid on out his desk –
“And don’t forget it, leggy prick!” Blitzø finished with a smug grin. Even his insults made Stolas want to shudder, his neck feathers puff out, but then he noticed the expression on Blitzø’s face. Even as he smiled the distrust and animosity was obvious. Of course, he had seen Blitzø make those expressions before. But now…after everything…
His silly fantasies quickly evaporated. He fought the urge to wrap his arms around himself as he stood in the middle of the apartment. If it was easier for this past version of Blitzø to see him as a villainous, entitled, royal (ex-royal) – then so be it. He didn’t imagine it’d be very difficult – he’d recently managed to convince a courtroom and the greater public of such a thing, after all.
He found himself reaching to fidget with his hands. He quickly dropped them, straightening his posture and putting on an air of confidence, even though he was still in his pajamas. Ones that Blitzø had gotten for him.
This persona would make things easier for Stolas as well, as least until everything was resolved and they brought their Blitzø back. Because he was quickly realizing that it was easier to play a temporary part and be hated for it, than to be the current, true, pathetic version of himself and have Blitzø look at him with such clear hatred. Just like Octavia had looked at him.
“I do have a very good memory,” he offered, mustering up everything he had to keep smiling, even while his heart was breaking at the thought of his precious daughter, even as it felt like the few good things he still had were currently so far out of reach. He just had to keep smiling. He just had to...to pretend hard enough. It had helped him through particularly low points in the past.
He just hoped that his – present – Blitzø would be back soon. If they were lucky, they could even have this solved by the end of the day.
Lucifer he hoped they could fix this by the end of the day.