Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Blitzø stood in the entrance to Stella's private chambers, feeling anger at being reduced to errand boy for Stolas. He could see Stella's focus was on the machine before her, her hands moving across her work as she pulled pins while feeding the material through the machine. He cleared his throat, saw Stella pause ever so slightly but otherwise ignored him.

"Stolas wants you to-" Blitzø began and wanted to take back the words as he saw Stella stiffen.

"No."

Blitzø groaned, but crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. He swung his tail behind him, resting it on the floor in annoyance. "But-"

"I have ruined my life enough for that pathetic piece of bird shit and I am not going along with whatever shitty idea he has now." Stella commented, not looking up from the dress fabric she was focused on. She brought it up to the light thoughtfully before setting it on her table.

"It's just the Harvest Moon Festival in Wrath." Blitzø grumbled, staring over Stella's shoulder.

"Absolutely fucking not." Stella retorted.

Blitzø growled deep in his throat, letting his gaze drift to Stella. "He'll just portal you there, regardless of what you're doing. What's so bad about a shitty festival, anyway? The food's okay, I guess."

"That shitty festival is infested by imps." Stella responded tartly. "I'm not going." She side-eyed Blitzø coolly. "I already see enough of your kind in my home."

Blitzø sighed, pushing the . "Please, can't you just... think about it?"

"Why should I do anything that you ask me, imp?" Stella demanded snidely, jerking her head around to stare at Blitzø. She looked like she hadn't been eating again, Blitzø noticed, staring at the hallowed eye gaze. And her dress was just the littlest bit loose on her. "You've come into our home, you have ruined my life-"

"Because he's not asking, I am." Stolas commented, stopping outside of Stella's sewing room. He stood behind Blitzø, clasping his hands behind his back. "And I'm not asking. It is time you and I start showing our daughter her birthright. I would like you to accompany me and Octavia to the festival."

"No." Stella growled, narrowing her eyes.

Stolas tilted his head, his eyes pupils flashing in annoyance as he met Stella's gaze. "Yes." He said darkly.

Stella stared at Stolas, her eyes flashing in anger as she glanced at the pair of them. "Fine, whatever. Just get out of my space."

Blitzø opened his mouth, flinching as the colors flashed around them. Stolas dropped them through a portal and back into his study upstairs. He flung himself into his desk chair, meeting Blitzø's gaze.

"Did you have to ask? You could have just told her she was coming." Stolas commented, leaning back in his chair and watching Blitzø.

Blitzø waved him off. "She might be kinder to you if you just fucking asked her to do shit." He pointed out, shoving his hands in his pockets. His tail was still moving and Stolas watched it, tilting his head curiously.

"Perhaps, but I don't think it's your place to decide. Go and pack, we'll be leaving early in the morning." Stolas murmured, voice low. "Unless you had other plans, darling?" He asked.

Blitzø turned, heading towards Stolas's door. He pushed it open, glancing over his shoulder to give Stolas one last look. "You're not the only one stuck here, you know."

"But you're all in my home." Stolas pointed out, waving Blitzø out the door. Blitzø turned and left, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

***

Blitzø stared at the horses in the pen, quickly glancing over his shoulder to see that Octavia and Stella had gone inside. Stolas was speaking to the owner of the house, handing her over the agreed upon rent. His eyes lit up when he saw Blitzø staring at him and he waved. Blitzø turned his attention back to the horses, assured that everyone was fine for the moment.

"That's Bombproof over there." A hand came into Blitzø's view, pointing out a particular horse from the crowd.

Blitzø glanced sideways at the speaker, crossing his arms over his chest. "Pretty horse." He took the taller imp in, catching sight of the rattler at the end of his tail as he swept it slowly behind him. The imp glanced sideways at Blitzø, cocking an eyebrow and tipping his hat to Blitzø when he caught his eye.

"Thanks. Raised him from a foal myself." The imp said fondly. "The guy I got him from was so sure he wouldn't live. He was a sickly little thing, but after some much needed love and care, he became the best horse."

Blitzø squinted at the horses, glancing at Striker. "Haven't seen you around here before." He commented as he leaned against the wooden corral fence.

"Thought you came in with the bluebloods." The imp replied, tilting his head towards the house.

Blitzø let out a chuckle. "I come around every year with Stolas, if that's what you mean. You one of the new hands that the owner mentioned?" He asked, noting how the imp rolled his eyes.

"I am, yeah." The imp commented. "I'm Striker, and you are?"

"The name's Blitzø, the o is silent." Blitzø commented, meeting Striker's gaze.

There was a pause between the pair. Blitzø considered asking another question, curious about the imp, but Striker beat him to it.

"What made you want to pick up a gig with the bluebloods?" Blitzø expected to hear disdain in Striker's voice, but he was surprised to hear the small wonder in Striker's tone.

Blitzø scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Stolas is the most pampered pain in the fucking ass to work for. It's more of a nightmare, if I'm honest." He turned to look at Striker, blinking as he took in the imp's features. His gaze flicked up to Striker's hat, down to his boots and he raised an eyebrow, meeting Striker's gaze. "You sure commit to the bit, don't you?"

"Mmm, I'm from Wrath, partner. But I suppose you're pampered up in the Pride ring, aren't you?" Striker asked. "See, I've heard a bit about you..." He trailed off, casually leaning against the fence and turning to face Blitzø. Blitzø slumps against the wooden fence, feeling the defeat crawl over his skin.

"Oh." Blitzø looked away from Striker. "Of fucking course you would have." Blizø was used to a lot of things, including other imps mocking him for his occupation. A part of him was grateful that the only other imps that were around in Stolas's home also worked for the prince. He didn't feel as... odd imp out, while in Stolas's home, not in the way he felt every Harvest Festival in the Wrath ring.

Striker let out a soft laugh and when Blitz looked at him again, his expression was one of open curiosity. "Well, I understand doing what you have to in order to get out of a dead end position." Striker commented, his tongue flicking across his lips. His tail rattled slowly and Blitzø huffed. "You got yourself a comfy job and a Goetia prince at your beck and call."

Blitzø sniffed in disdain at the statement. "Stolas is-" a horny bitch but he felt himself choke on the words that he wanted to say. "It's not like that." He settled on finally. "He helped me out when he didn't have to. He's... an okay demon, I guess. For a Goetia."

"You competing in the Pain Games?" Striker asked, when he picked up on the discomfort in Blitzø's words. "I bet an imp of your capabilities would do well in them."

Blitzø shook his head, glad for the subject change. "Never thought about it." Except the first year he had been here with Stolas, and he had asked to join and Stolas had side eyed him, looking down before he hooted laughter.

"Do you think they're worth your time, Blitzy? You're so much better than them. Why waste our time with these silly games?"

And it had stung because Blitzø, somewhere deep down, missed talking to other imps. The other servant imps Stolas had in his employ weren't his friends by a long shot, with a tendency to avoid him if they could. But Blitzø had taken that pain and shoved it down with every other issue he kept his mouth shut about.

"Maybe you should compete this year. I promise it'll be fun and worth your time." Striker said coolly, smiling at Blitzø. Blitzø blinked at him, tail twitching as Striker smiled at him. "Get out of that stuffy suit and return to your roots, ya know?"

"I'll think about it." Blitzø commented, pushing himself off the wooden fence and turning to the house. Stolas had stuck his head out, his hand curled around the doorframe,. He smiled when he spotted Blitzø, beckoning him inside before he disappeared.

Striker smirked at him, his gaze drifting from the house back to Blitzø. "You'll compete if the feathered blueblood lets you, huh?"

"Fuck off." Blitzø grunted, rolling his eyes and heading to the house. He paused long enough to smoke a cigarette on the porch, flipping Striker off when he strolled by. Striker eyed him curiously, smiling at Blitzø before he disappeared around the side of the house. He heard Striker whistle and he turned just in time to see Bombproof jump the fence and follow his owner happily.

Blitzø pulled his glove down, looking at the collection of half circled marks before he put his cigarette out on the white patch of skin, letting out a low hiss as he studied the half circle of off white it left. He tucked the rest of the cigarette into his pocket, rolling his fingerless glove back into place before he waltzed inside, finding Stolas standing by the window.

"Who was that?" Stolas asked curiously, turning his attention to Blitzø.

Blitzø glanced at him. "One of the temporary farm hands Drelsen hired for the season." Blitzø glanced out the window, seeing that Striker was gone before he shifted his gaze to Stolas. "Hey, can I compete in the Pain Games this year?"

Stolas opened his mouth, his gaze flashing with something that Blitzø couldn't pick out. He cut in before Stolas could reject him.

"I'm bored. I'm bored every where we come here. You'll be focused on your wife and daughter. You will be showing your daughter the ropes of this stupid festival. Please, let me compete." Blitzø would have begged on his knees if he thought it would change Stolas's mind, but he didn't want to have to push himself off the floor.

The demon prince sighed, tilting his head to the side and tapping his chin as he studied Blitzø. "You're going to compete regardless, aren't you?"

Blitzø stiffened but then nodded. "Absolutely."

"Fine, but if you die, I'm going to be upset." Stolas warned and Blitzø stared at him, surprise flooding his body. Stolas waved his hand at him, gesturing towards the dining room. "Now that you're done pouting, would you like to join us for dinner?"

Blitzø's stomach lurched, glancing towards the dining room where he could hear Stella keeping up a running commentary of complaints. He grimaced and Stolas reached out, patting his head.

"I feel much the same. I fear she's trying to make me regret making her come." Stolas chuckled. "Octavia has been having fun playing with some of the other kids, however. It'll be good for her!" His eyes shifted and Stolas grinned, his gaze hooded. He licked his lips, watching Blitzø thoughtfully. "I am quite looking forward to seeing you compete, Blitzy."

"Ugh." Blitzø stalked past Stolas and into the dining room, taking his seat at the far end of the table as Stolas joined them, Stella's voice raising in pitch.

Blitzø tuned her out, eating the food given to him as he pulled out his phone. He searched up the Harvest Festival's previous Pain Games, squinting as several different stat pages came up. He gave up after several long minutes of trying to puzzle out the details and put his phone away.

***

"Welcome to this year's Harvest Festival! A grand welcome for the imps that offer so much of their services to the other rings. Without the food you so meticulously toil over, we could all starve. On behalf of the Goetia, I give you our heartfelt thank you and bless your year's harvest, may it be large and bountiful, plentiful and fulfilling. We see the work that even the smallest demon offers and we are pleased!"

Blitzø looked up as the skies parted, Stolas standing on the stage with Octavia next to him, who was staring at the grimoire he held out curiously. She watched in fascination as the clouds parted, the red colored full moon shining down upon the gathered imps. Stolas lowered his hand as he looked up at the moon, preening over the successful cloud clearing.

"And now, let the Pain Games opening ceremony begin! Good luck to all of you little imps, especially my darling Blitzy!" He paused and Blitzø shrunk down, ignoring the looks that were being thrown his way by the other competitors. "There will be a feast to begin and the first game, an obstacle course, will begin in two hours!" Stolas grinned as he concluded his speech, his gaze landing on Blitzø. Blitzø glowered at him, his gaze flicking down to Octavia, who was trying to see something in the book. Stolas bent down so she could see it easier, pointing out the particular passage he had used for the reveal. Stolas tilted his head as Octavia asked a question, Stolas gently pushing her hands off the grimoire when she touched it.

Blitzø turned when he heard the gravel crunch next to him, unsurprised but excited to see that Striker had made his way to stand beside him, the imp grinning in delight. He looked different, under the light of the red moon, Blitzø thought. There was a tint of danger that the red light applied, Blitzø thought, his eyes seeming to glow as he gestured for Blitzø to follow him to the food line.

"I'm surprised your boss let you compete." Striker commented, accepting the food from the server with a smile and a nod of thanks. Blitzø shook his head, muttering a no thanks as they tried to pass him food as well, holding up his hands.

He followed Striker over to an empty table, sitting across from him. "It's not like he could say no. I work for him, he doesn't own me." He shifted when Striker looked up at him, his gaze flicking over Blitzø in thought. Blitzø ignored some of the glances that the locals and yearly attendees were giving him, his shoulders hunching ever so slightly.

"I guess I'll get to see how good you are, then." Striker commented, smiling at Blitzø. "Because you have to be pretty good to work for the Goetia, right?"

"I guess." Blitzø responded, remembering the first year he had worked for Stolas and how often Stolas was saving his ass instead of the other way around. "Have you competed before?"

Striker blinked in consideration for the question, tilting his head to the side and staring off into space. "Back when I was a teen, I attended a few. I moved around a lot back then and would work on farms for a place to stay during the harvest season. Though this particular festival is the biggest that's held in the Wrath ring and the only one blessed by a blueblood, but there are smaller ones. They're equally as fun."

"Huh, I never... thought about that." Blitzø admitted, looking around at where the gathered participants of the games were milling about.

"Come on, let's take a look at that course, shall we?" Striker suggested as he finished his food. Blitzø got up and followed him, the pair pausing long enough for Striker to toss out his trash.

**

Blitzø was surprised to see how much he enjoyed himself, as he raced through the obstacle course. He could hear the other imps fighting behind him, but the twitch of Striker's tail kept him fixated on avoiding the fighting. The wall was so easy (he spent so often scrambling over Stolas's balcony and walls and Stolas was prone to only make it more difficult) that Blitzø was laughing when he jumped over the shark pig thing, who reached up and snapped at his tail. He twitched it out of the way, landing on his feet on the other side.

He heard one of the imps behind him fall into the pit and the ensuing screams as the demonic creature dragged them into the murk. He gave himself a moment to gather his breath before he plunged on, clearing the swinging beams with ease and found himself pacing Striker.

He glanced sideways and smirked at him, slamming into Striker's side and knocking him off the feet. The bigger imp stumbled as Blitzø pulled ahead, letting out a sharp curse, but Blitzø didn't linger to listen to it. He pulled himself up the rope ladder before flinging himself towards the length of rope that was hanging limply and swung himself across the final moat to land on the other side of the finish line.

He looked over his shoulder to see that Striker had swam across the moat, pulling himself out of the water and letting out a huff as he joined Blitzø at the finish line. They were standing there for a handful of moments when Striker cleared his throat, gesturing at the contestants still struggling on the course.

"You want to get dinner with me? The second contest won't start until tomorrow." Striker asked as they watched others scrambling their way through the final section of course.

Blitzø hesitated, glancing over his shoulder to where Stolas had moved to lounge in the shadow, Octavia sitting next to him with the grimoire spread open his lap. Stolas looked up and smiled at Blitzø, waiving slightly before returning his attention to whatever lesson he was giving.

"That would be nice." Blitzø decided.

Striker cracked a smile. "You don't need to clear it with your boss this time?"

"Please, he'll be fine for a couple of hours." Blitzø promised and Striker nodded, falling silent as they waited for the game to be called for the evening.

They had started with over a hundred contestants, but they were down to fifty, Blitzø noted, when Stolas finally called the course to an end. Blitzø ignored Stolas's questioning look as he followed Striker off the course and towards where Bombproof was eating by the fence. The horse picked up his head, flicking an ear in greeting to Striker.

"We'll go into town for dinner, how about that?" Striker asked, clicking his tongue. Bombproof shook his mane, backing up and launching himself over the wooden fence. Striker reached out, placing his hand in Bombproof's fiery mane and smiling as the horse nosed his shoulder happily. Blitzø followed him to the barn, where Striker saddled Bombproof.

Blitzø felt a stirring when Striker mounted Bombproof and held out a hand to him, smiling in the fading light. His eyes gleamed and Blitzø accepted the hand up.

Chapter Text

Blitzø sat, perched on the wooden fence and swinging his legs. The sun was barely rising and the sky was iridescent almost, with the last handful of constellations fading out slowly. The final day of the Harvest Festival stretched before him, but he didn't want to leave. Sure, he had listened to Stella complain all through dinner last night while Stolas ignored her, nose stuck in a book and he hadn't stuck around to see what new arguments breakfast would bring.

But he was enjoying himself and the games were a challenge he was happy to excel at. And with competing, it meant less time for Stolas to harass him, distracted as he was by Octavia. Blitzø stared into the horse pen, gaze distant as Striker worked on feeding the horses. Blitzø hadn't noticed him originally, but when the Striker noticed him, he lifted a hand and waved.

"You're out early." Striker called out. "Something eating at you, boss?"

Blitzø shrugged, hopping off the fence and into the horse pen, wandering over to Bombproof as Striker moved bales around the pen out for the horses. "Couldn't sleep and didn't want to lay in bed anymore. Mattress was uncomforable." He commented, reaching his hand out to Bombproof. The horse snorted, thrusting his muzzle into Blitzø's hand and nuzzled it fondly.

Striker chuckled, reaching up and tilting his hat thoughtfully. "Boss giving you troubles?" He asked.

"Him and his wife, both." Blitzø replied. He hesitated, tail lowering as he sighed. "She's not... Stolas is..." He tried to find the words, glancing sideways at Striker. "Stolas has his head shoved up so far his ass. He doesn't care and Stella just feeds off that, so they constantly fight and bicker with each other."

"Why don't you quit?" Striker asked. "If it makes you so miserable, can't you take your skills and go elsewhere with them?"

Blitzø shook his head, patting Bombproof's nose once more as the horse nuzzled his head. "I have a contract with Stolas."

The horse snorted, thrusting his muzzle into Blitzø's hand and nuzzled it fondly. Striker chuckled, reaching up and tilting his hat thoughtfully. "Didn't realize the bluebloods would require a contract for a security guard position. What made you agree to it?"

Blitzø grimaced. "It was the prospect that made the most sense, at the time. I was about to be fired from my other job, no one was hiring washed out performers. Stolas showed up, went on about how he needed someone he could trust, and hired me on the spot."

"Did you know him before he employed you?" Striker worked as he asked the questions, his jacket tossed over the edge of one fence post. Blitzø watched the muscles in Striker's back move as he shifted a bale from the wheelbarrow

Blitzø shrugged. "I met him once, but that was... when we were kids. I guess he kept coming around, but I never saw him around. Honestly, I kind of forgot about him until he showed up." Blitzø patted Bombproof's nose distractedly as he spoke.

"Sounds like you can use a break from them both." Striker commented.

"And what would you suggest?"

"We can skip the games today, do something just you and I." Striker offered. "I can show you more of the town. Give you a good time you won't forget..." He smirked, his eyes flashing as he met Blitzø's gaze. He arched an eyebrow, Blitzø adjusting his stance and he looked over his shoulder at Striker curiously.

"You afraid I'm going to kick your ass?" Blitzø asked, scratching Bombproof's nose before sliding his hands up, touching the fiery mane curiously. Bombproof snorted, taking a step back and blinking at Blitzø.

Striker chuckled, grinning at Blitzø. "If I win, come back out with me tonight. I had fun the other night and you'll be leaving soon."

"And if I win?" Blitzø asked.

Striker grinned at him. "Depends on what you want." His gaze was shadowed by his hat as he walked over, patting Bombproof. "We'll see who the better imp is tonight."

"It's going to be me." Blitzø was cocky as he turned away from Striker, throwing a smirk and a wink over his shoulder. "And I'll want something good."

"Whatever you say, Blitzø."

Blitzø felt a tingle of anticipation run down his spine and he smirked as he glanced back at Striker, giving him a short wave. He was looking forward to the games that night...

... But he wasn't quite anticipating a tie.

Blitzø stared at Stolas as the bird stood on the stage, announcing the tie between his "darling Blitzy~" (and Blitzø wished he at least got his name right in public, especially with Stella glowering at him from the shade of the covered stands) and Striker. Striker had offered another ride on Bombproof and Blitzø had offered to buy Striker dinner once they both showered and changed.

***

Bltzø was laughing as he throws back another drink, his eyes shining as Striker talked, his laughter underlaying his words. "Dude had his pants around his legs," he was snorting, eyes closed at the memory, "his dick out and he was trying to tell me that no, he wasn't cheating. See, he claimed it was an honest mistake, he had been misled, he was a good demon, honestly! The whore was screaming at him about his bitch wife the entire time and angrily getting dressed. I think he threw a shoe at him, too. Nailed the fucker right in the dick with it."

"I knew demons fucked up, but to lie about it when his wife caught him balls deep in another dude?" Blitzø shifted, snorting. "He could have picked a better lie."

"The wife was pissed enough to put her husband on a contract. Once the job was over, she was angry with herself because, in her words, 'I took it too far, she didn't actually want him to die'. She ended up getting remarried three months later." Striker commented. "Invited me to her wedding and everything."

"Did you go?" Blitzø asked curiously. He was used to boring conversations, demons talking about things that they had done. So few of the Goetia were willing to get their hands dirty, it was refreshing to hear Striker laugh his way through telling a job. He as animated, his eyes flashing in the dimmer light of the hole in the wall that Striker recommended. It was different from their first dinner outing, noisier but more relaxed. The tables were full and the servers were dashing every which way, but Striker took it in stride, relaxed even when the wrong food was given.

Striker shook his head. "Nah, I don't fuck with crazy. Didn't want to remind her about her past husband. Besides, from what I looked into later, it's a trend with her. Marry rich bastards, catch them cheating, have them offed. Guess it's working out well for her."

"If you're an accomplished hitman, why the farm work?" Blitzø asked curiously, his tail twitching back and forth before he shifted, waving to the server for another drink.

Striker shrugged, shaking his head when the server looked at him and raised a glass as well. "I enjoy coming back to my roots every once in a while, remind myself that there's always a place to come back to. What about you, you have anywhere like that?"

Blitzø grimaced, shaking his head. "Nope. No family and no place to return home."

"Except for the blueblood." Striker commented.

Blitzø sighed, rolling his eyes at the mention of Stolas. "I guess."

"If you're so unhappy, why don't you leave the job?" Striker asked. "With the various skills I saw from you in the games alone, you could make it big, given a little patience."

Blitzø considered the question, accepting the drink when the server brought it over. He laced his hands around the cup, watching the ice bob in the liquid. "Stolas is a pain in the ass, but... he helped me when no one else was going to. He gave me a job when I couldn't keep steady work. He may be a pain, but he was the first stable person in my life after... some shit happened. Sure, fifteen years may seem like a lot, but I'll be pretty comfy once I leave his service."

Striker snorted and Blitzø narrowed his eyes. "Sounds like you just want a comfy gig."

"Fuck, it doesn't matter." Blitzø threw his drink back, grimacing as the liquid hit his tongue and burned going down his throat but he moved, getting up from the table. "Do you know anything about stars?" He asked, desperate to change the topic away from Stolas. He wanted to hit himself when he asked about stars.

"I can navigate by them." Striker said slowly, watching Blitzø curiously. "Doesn't your fancy blueblood know all about them?"

Blitzø grimaced but nodded his head in agreement. "I always thought they were neat. Used to look up at the sky at night and wonder if Hell was really the end of the line, you know?"

"I can show you a few constellations that are Wrath specific." Striker offered. "Though it might be something that fancy britches has shown you."

Blitzø snorted. "Stolas doesn't care about stars down in Hell, not when he has the whole universe to transverse." He paused, looking at Striker. "Let's go see some stars."

Blitzø followed Striker as he got up from his seat. Blitzø paid for the bill before they left and Striker took Blitzø's hand, leading him back to Bombproof. They situated themselves, Striker sitting behind Blitzø and shifting back as far as the saddle would let him.

"So, you guys are leaving tomorrow?" Striker asked curiously when they were halfway back to the farm they were staying at.

Blitzø snorted. "Day after, Stolas has some shit he needs to do or something tomorrow, can't leave before he does it." He was comfortable with Striker's arms around him, Blitzø realized as Bombproof plodded on down the dirt road. Blitzø shifted again, blinking as the alcohol hit his system. He looked behind him to Striker, a smirk crossing his features as he hooded his eyes and grinned. "You wanna fuck?"

Striker snorted and Blitzø felt it in Striker's chest. "Was this a ploy just to ask me?" Striker asked.

"No, bu-" Blitzø began.

"Because it's working." Striker commented, dropping the reins and resting his hands on Blitzø's hips.

"Ever fucked in a desert?" Striker asked, nudging Bombproof in a different direction. Blitzø smirked, turning slightly to look at Striker. Striker shifted his hands, pulling Blitzø against his chest.

"Nope." Blitzø grinned and held on tight to the saddle as Striker nudged Bombproof into a trot. "Have fucked in space, though."

Striker snorted and Blitzø felt the breath on his horn. "Any hard nos?" Striker asked.

"No anal." Blitzø responded, shifting in the saddle. He could feel Striker vividly, he realized as the demon slowed Bombproof down with his knees. The moon shined overhead, Striker swinging himself off the horse when they stopped.

"Got it, anything else?" Striker asked, his eyes gleaming in the light and Blitzø reached out, taking his hand and letting himself be pulled down.

"You stop when I say." Blitzø responded and Striker nodded in agreement. Striker grabbed the extra blanket off of Bombproof's saddle, leading Blitzø down to a small dip. He laid out the blanket, Blitzø sitting down in thought.

It was a fight for dominance, for the first ten minutes. A continued fight, Blitzø thought mutely as he stared up at Striker, his pants tight, from where the games' fight had ended. He can feel the scratches on his arm and the pain in his hip where Striker had knocked him down. His blood was reacting to the violence, in a way Blitzø had missed.

He could also see the blood on Striker's cheek from where Blitzø had struck him and split his lip open. Striker flicked his tongue out, catching the blood on his cheek as he pinned Blitzø down, pressing his knee against Blitzø's erection.

"You like it hot and dirty?" The imp whispered and Blitzø lashed out with his tail, but Striker blocked it with his own, his eyes gleaming.

Blitzø squirmed before freezing, feeling Striker shift above him. Striker was kneeling over him fully now, knees on either side of Blitzø as he licked the scratch mark on Blitzø's shoulder. "Fuck." Blitzø whispered.

"Do I need to hog tie you, or do you think you'll stay still if I go down on you?" Striker asked curiously, tail twitching slowly. Blitzø watched the rattler, turning to look back at Striker when the imp cleared his throat.

"That sounds hot." Blitzø whispered, his voice hoarse as he tried to swallow. His mouth was dry, he realized in dismay but Striker was drawing his hands down, cradling Blitzø's face before he kissed him and Blitzø shuddered, closing his eyes. There was a heat in Striker's motions, the imp drawing his kissing down from Blitzø's mouth to his neck, before he slid further down. He settled between Blitzø's knees, a smirk crossing the imp's face as he sat there.

"Who usually does the fucking?" Striker asked curiously, his hands coming to rest on Blitzø's pants. He hooked the fingers of his left hand into the waistband, tugging once he unbuttoned them.

Blitzø stared at him. "Huh?" He asked and Striker tugged his pants off him.

"The blueblood doesn't seem like the type to give, if you know what I mean." Striker commented. His hands were cold against Blitzø's hips, he realized belatedly. With the day having ended, it was colder in the open desert than Blitzø would have thought.

Blitzø closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the blanket. "You're ruining the mood." He complained and Striker laughed, shifting and pulling his hat off so he could get between Blitzø's thighs better.

"You don't seem to be too distraught by it." He commented, pulling Blitzø's dick out of his underwear. The cold of his hands ran through Blitzø's nerves as Striker worked, the man focused on the task at hand. Blitzø closed his eyes again, shivering as Striker put his mouth on him.

He felt guilty as Striker got him off, but when he offered, Striker declined, watching him in amusement as Blitzø just stared upwards, the blanket smelling of burnt horse. Striker joined him on the blanket, reaching up and pointing out constellations that the Wrath Ring was known for. Striker rested his arm to the side, Blitzø pillowing his head on it as Striker talked.

***

It was nearly midnight when Blitzø stumbled back to the house, his head fuzzy from the night with Striker. His jacket was dirty and there was a rip along the back. But he felt better than he had in a while. He was sated, even for the brief interaction he had. Now all he wanted to do was go to bed and sleep off the alcohol... The main room was dark and Blitzø stumbled his way through the living room, cursing when he stubbed his foot on the bottom step of stairs.

He jolted when he heard Stolas cough.

"Did you have fun?"

Blitzø hesitated when Stolas opened his eyes in the darkened room. He looked towards the darker shadow that sat on the couch, the demon reaching his arms out to Blitzø. Blitzø let out a sigh but redirected course to head over to Stolas, setting on the couch next to him and ignoring his searching graze and reaching hands.

"It was nice, I guess." Blitzø muttered, looking away from Stolas. Under the demon's gaze, he felt guilty and disgusting, like the stench of sex would mark him as spoiled. While Blitzø was fully aware that his relationship with Stolas was open, he still felt the small morsal of guilt that resided in his chest.

The prince let out a hum, eyeing Blitzø up and down. "You won't find anything of worth in the Wrath Imp, darling." Stolas commented dryly and Blitzø flushed, crossing his arms over his chest and pointedly ignoring Stolas.

Blitzø looked at Stolas warily as the silence continued, finding the prince's gaze locked on him. "You don't own me."

Stolas cocked his head to the side, his blank eyes staring at Blitzø. "I'm just pointing out that he can't give you anything that I haven't." Stolas reached out, placing a hand on Blitzø's knee. "Have I not given you everything you could have possibly wanted, Blitzy?"

Blitzø shoved Stolas's hand off his knee, getting up from the couch and turning his back to the prince. "You also said I still have a choice. That our relationship," Blitzø added the air quotes despite being unable to bring himself to actually look at Stolas, "is open and, when I'm not needed, I can do as I please."

Stolas let out a low hum, the couch protesting as he shifted on it before he lifted himself up. He shifted to stand in front of the couch, his hands outstretched.

"Awww, Blitzy~" Stolas murmured, reaching out and resting a hand on Blitzø's shoulder, dragging the imp off the couch and into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around Blitzø's chest, leaning between Blitzø's horns to stare upside down at him.

Blitzø froze as he met Stolas's gaze, feeling the demon tighten his grip. It ached across already hurting ribs and the pounding headache from the alcohol wasn't doing him any favors.

"You're adorable when you think you're in trouble." Stolas said, letting out a soft hoot and twisting his head so he could kiss Blitzø. "But just ask next time, okay? I hate not knowing where you're at."

Blitzø rolled his eyes, shoving Stolas's face away before he could kiss him. "Whatever, I'm going to bed."

Stolas sighed, clutching Blitzø tightly to his chest. "Take a shower before you do. I don't like that you smell like him. Or like horse."

"Don't cling to me or deal with it." Blitzø grumbled, his tail twining around Stolas's leg, despite the grumpy huff he gave.

"I can't wait to see you compete tomorrow." Stolas said, pulling himself away from Blitzø and touching his shoulder as he walked past him. "Good night, Blitzy~"

Blitzø shuddered, heading up the stairs. Blitzø saw Stolas disappear into his room, the imp taking a moment to check on Stella and Octavia before he went to shower before falling into bed.

Chapter Text

Blitzø hadn't been happy about being woken up to see Striker staring at him from the doorway. At first, he'd been a little aroused when he saw the other imp, impressed that he had the guts to sneak into Stolas's temporary home. He'd been less than impressed when Striker showed him a gun and stepped behind him, prodding him along the hallway. He was disappointed when he saw that Stella and Octavia were already in the hallway.

And fuck, Blitzø thought weakly, Stella looked pissed. Her hair was mused and her nightgown was wrinkled. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her mouth was clenched tight. He slid between Striker and the Goetia, his gaze guarded as he studied Striker.

"What the fuck is this?" Blitzø demanded, voice flat. He couldn't have gotten more than a couple hours of sleep and it was still dark out. His teeth ached, his head pounded, and Blitzø realized he needed to take a piss, which probably wouldn't be happening any time soon.

"It's nothing personal." Striker commented, barely sparing Blitzø a glance. "I had a job I need to get done and you're in the way."

Blitzø gritted his teeth, spreading his arms out as Striker pointed the gun at them. His tail lashed behind him and he took a step closer to the Goetia behind him, tilting his head ever so slightly to study them. His gaze flicked down to Octavia, who stiffened and turned to her mouth, her hands tightening into Stella's nightgown as she hid her face. Stella stared over Blitzø, gaze trained on Striker.

Stella's back was straight, her eyes blazing in anger even as she wrapped Octavia in her arms and pulled her closer to her legs, trying to hide her in the folds of the nightgown. The girl shifted, following along with her mother's movements but when she looked up, there were tears in her eyes. Blitzø turned his attention back to the threat, feeling anger boil in his blood. "It looks pretty personal to me." Blitzø said softly.

Striker glanced at Stella and Octavia, turning his attention back to Blitzø. "The ladies were just in the way. Roused them by accident looking for that birdy of yours. Should have realized the prince was too good to share a room with his beloved life."

"Who paid you to take out a hit on Stolas?" Stella demanded, Striker glancing at her in annoyance.

"Not something I care to share, partner. I'm just looking for the ditzy blueblood of yours." Striker responded, his gaze sliding from Stella back to Blitzø. "Where's he hiding?"

"You picked the wrong fucking night to piss me off, Striker." Blitzø warned, voicing dropping lower as the yellow eyed demon stepped closer to him. There's a hypnotizing gleam that makes his vision go hazy and the demon steps closer to him, gaze trained on the imp. Blitzø slams his eyes shut, shaking his head as he heard the rattle at the end of the tail.

"You're nothing but a sell out, you know that?" The imp inquired, narrowing his eyes.

Blitzø let out a laugh, though it was brittle. "I know what I am, I have never been in denial about that, trust me. I'm really not in the mood for whatever bullshit game you're playing Striker. So fuck off."

"You played so well in the Pain Games. You have such a spark to you, Blitzø." Striker sighed wistfully, glancing from Blitzø to the two Goetia behind him. "There's something I've been trying to figure something out." Striker continued, walking closer to Blitzø. His footsteps echoed down the hall and he watched in interest as Blitzø tilted his head towards the noise he made and he smirked, looking back at the Goetia.

Striker's tail flicked to the left and Blitzø lifted a hand out, eyes still closed, only to feel the lash of a whip strike against his right side. He reached out when he heard the whip again, wrapping his hand around the leather and yanking it out of Striker's hand.

He froze in moving forward when he felt the muzzle of the gun against his forehead. His heart thudded in his chest and he hissed, puffing himself up but-

"Open them eyes, pretty boy." Striker purred, "or I start my job with the pretty lady and let you watch while you fail at yours. They're not part of the contract, but there's always a cleanup clause."

Blitzø went completely still, unwilling to move further as the imp jabbed him with the muzzle again, frustration seeping into his words.

"I can't fucking hear you when you don't speak." The man snapped.

"Fine." Blitzø spat, yanking his eyes open and turning to stare at the imp that was inches from his face. The cut Blitzø had left on his cheek had opened again, fresh blood welling along the skin. He felt Stella reach out, pressing her hand against his back. He nearly flinched, but he tensed his jaw, staring Striker down.

Striker let out a hum, pulling the gun away from Blitzø's head. He sauntered back a step, crossing one arm over his chest as he tapped the muzzle against his cheek with the other hand. "It's kind of funny that you'd stay here all docile instead of running to your master to let him know what's going on."

Blitzø chuckled, though it was dry. He licked his lips, gaze skittering from Striker and he rattled his tail in warning.

"You'd best not look away." Striker warned, his voice lowering once more.

"Right." Blitzø huffed, feeling the imp's gaze lock on him. His head felt fuzzy and he couldn't hold himself up anymore, but- "Just. Don't hurt them, okay?"

Striker scoffed, reaching out and patting Blitzø's cheek. "I don't intend to." Striker hissed. "But if they act up, that's a very different matter."

"Pl-"

Blitzø struggled to keep his eyes open as Striker pulled his hand back from Blitzø's skin. The other demon's eyes were shifting, swirling hypnotically. He felt Stella retract her hand and the world swam before him, his body going heavy on him.

"Right on time." Striker hissed and Blitzø fell forward, Striker holding out his arms. He let Blitzø fall into him, his gaze flicking to Stella and Octavia.

"Put him down." Stella growled, taking a step towards Striker.

He sighed, letting out a huff. "I really hate killing where I don't have to, lady," he began.

"Oh, a ruffian with a pure heart? Again, what dumbass sent you after my worthless husband of all Goetia?" Stella demanded, taking a step forward and pulling Octavia behind her, not even caring when she heard fabric rip. "Put. Him. Down."

"I have no qualms killing you if you make a fuss." Striker warned. "So keep your fucking mouth shut and you can come with me. And your little girl stays with us."

Octavia froze, Stella's warning chirp drawing Striker's attention. He let out a sigh. "I don't like taking hostages, lady. I like completing my work and moving on. If you cooperate, there won't

"You both stay with me, got it? Any funny business and you're all roadkill." Striker jerked his head towards the stairs. Stella reached out, drawing Octavia towards her. The girl, she realizes amidst her own furious anger, is trembling in fear.

"We understand." Stella said haughtily, pulling Octavia into her arms, unbothered that the girl was almost too heavy for Stella to really care for long. She jerked her head for Striker to lead on, anger ghosting her every step.

"Mom?" Octavia whispered, her arms tightening around Stella's neck. Stella tried to ignore the way Octavia felt like a burden, turning her attention to her daughter.

"Just listen to the imp, okay?" She said, casting her gaze back to Striker as he led them down the stairs and out of the empty house. He had thrown Blitzø over his shoulder, the imp looking so much smaller than Stella could remember. She stared at the limp figure, glancing back down to Octavia.

"...okay." Octavia mumbled, hiding her face in Stella's hair.

***

Blitzø blinked slowly, tilting his head to the side and staring. He isn't sure where he is, but something is holding him up. He squints when he sees Stella perched in a chair, anger plain on her face. Octavia is sitting in the other chair, kicking her legs and playing with the edge of her sleeves. There was a coloring book in front of her and morning sun was coming in through the windows. They were on the main walkway of the barn, the stalls empty for the time being.

"Wh-" Octavia begins but Striker silenced her with a look, rubbing his forehead with the muzzle of his gun.

"Do you ever shut up, kid?" Striker asked, glancing at Octavia and she frowned at him, tilting her head to the side.

"She learned from her father." Stella commented snidely, lifting up a hand and examining her nails. She picked at one in frustration, clicking her tongue when she saw the crack in. She lifted it up to her mouth, biting off the offending nail and spitting it back onto the floor. "I swear to fuck, if this is one of his perverted-"

"What does perverted mean?" Octavia asked Stella.

"-fantasies, I am going to wring his scrawny fucking neck. Perverted means not okay or strange" Stella reached forward, miming the motion.

Striker sighed, shaking his head as Octavia opened her mouth again. "I told you lady, this isn't some... messed up sex thing, fucking shit. What would even give you that idea?" Striker demanded.

"Cause I think cowboys are fucking hot." Blitzø put in, letting out a long hacking nose as he tried to get moisture back in his mouth. "I can't believe this ring birthed you out of it's fucking asshole. You're hot, you have the look down... You're so good with your mouth."

Stella sighed. "I'll get Octavia a dictionary for her birthday."

"I already have three." Octavia put in.

"Maybe a pocket dictionary if Stolas keeps taking her to events." Blitzø suggested and Stella stared at him. "Er, right..." He cleared his throat, glancing back at Striker.

Striker hissed at them, tail rattling. "What is wrong with you all? Do none of you care that you're stuck here?" Striker groaned. "The contract wasn't worth picking a fight with a bunch of frustrating bluebloods."

Blitzø snorted. "Are you surprised that Stolas would bring his family along?" He asked sarcastically. "Fucker couldn't last a day without someone to snip at."

"He's a dirty imp f-" Stella began, gaze flicking to Octavia and she swallowed the rest of the retort. "He won't realize we're missing."

Striker snorted. "I'm actually more interested in the imp who is supposedly so devoted to Stolas, he'd run for you first."

Blitzø's gaze slid to Stella and he saw her face contort in confusion. He glanced back at Striker, his vision still blurry. "Our priority is always the safety of the family."

Striker snorted, walking over to where Blitzø was tied up. "You're nothing but a little play toy for that asshole, you realize that?"

"He's an easy meal ticket." Blitzø tried to shrug, glancing down at the ropes in annoyance. "He also lets me be just a little bit lazy. If you weren't happy with just blowing me off last night, you could have told me. I would have gotten kinky without the extra baggage."

Striker considered this, his hand drifting to the hilt of a rather large looking knife that he wore on his hip. After a moment, he smirked at Blitzø, his eyes narrowing as he moved towards him. He pulled the blade out of its sheath, using it to gesture at Blitzø.

"You're a skilled imp. You could be at the top of the heap, but you're here lapping at the scraps of these arrogant bluebloods." He pulled the knife out as he talked and Blitzø followed the blade, his breath hitching as Striker stepped up next to him, lifting the knife and placing the blade against Blitzø's cheek.

Blitzø swallowed, straining to watch the blade as Striker dragged it down the burned side of his cheek. The nerves had never really been the same after the fire, so it didn't register as painful even as Blitzø felt the skin split beneath the knife. He kept himself still as Striker dropped the point of the blade down to rest against his neck. "I..." His gaze flicked to Stella, who squinted and held up two curled fingers closer to her eye to examine the polish. "I never really thought about it."

Striker cocked his head, glancing at Stella, who was picking at her broken nail again in annoyance. Octavia was staring, though, her eyes latched onto the scene. He made sure Blitzø's body hid the knife as he smiled at her before turning his attention back to Blitzø.

"You don't owe them anything." Striker commented. "You could start a revolution, starting with them."

Blitzø stared at him, feeling the knife dig into his skin. "What's the point? I'd be trading one set of chains for another."

"You'd only be beholden to yourself. Don't you get tired of being a fuck toy? Second place in a marriage?" Striker asked, ignoring Stella's cold laughter and muttered words Blitzø couldn't pick out. "Or are you like every other bootlicking imp there is, happy to serve?"

"I hate it." Blitzø whispered, staring at the light from the windows. It looked darker than when he had first woke, maybe clouds covering the sky, he thought.

"They don't consider you their family. They'd get rid of you at the first chance if you failed them." Striker murmured softly, the knife no longer pressing so hard to his throat.

Blitzø took a breath to respond but instead jerked his leg upwards as Stella flicked her fingers. Striker stumbled backwards, dropping the knife as there was a terrifying schreeeeeech that echoed around the barn. Blitzø looked upwards to see scarlet talons ripping the roof off. Striker looked upwards as well, taking a panicked step back as the talon descended, reaching out for him.

The beast's head twisted until it was level with Striker, who was held aloft in its talon, its beak stretching wide as Stolas screamed. Striker was pleading, saying something that Blitzø couldn't catch. The massive black and red bird demon just snorted, drawing Striker up to its beak and screeching again in frustration.

Blitzø jerked, his ears ringing as Stella rushed to his side, picking up the blade Striker had dropped. She began to cut at the ropes, Blitzø cursing as she nicked his skin instead. She reached up, her hand wrapping around the wound as she pulled Blitzø out of the chair and away from a chunk of ceiling that had fallen inwards.

Blitzø felt Stella stumble and lose her grip on his arm as they made it back to the safe zone that Stolas had thrown up. The small bubble shuddered as Blitzø pulled Stella into it, Octavia cowering in the corner. She rushed to Stella's side when she collapsed, staring in terror. Blitzø knelt down to regain his balance and to check on Stella. She was spasming, he saw in dismay. He stood over her, hands moving to cradle her head and keep it from hitting the ground again.

Blitzø heard bones crunching, looking up in time to see Stolas toss the imp up in the air like a ragdoll and catch him in his mouth. Stolas swallowed the imp whole before collapsing in on himself, landing in the protective bubble in his half form, his hands reaching out for Blitzø. Blitzø growled under his breath and Stolas redirected to reaching out to Stella, pressing his hand against her shoulder.

"What the fuck happened?" Stolas demanded.

"You nee to take her to a hospital, Stolas." Blitzø said, voice soft as he stared down at the woman. Her eyes were still half open and her hands were twisted into claws.

Stolas jerked his head up and stared at Blitzø. "How dare you-" He began but Blitzø cut him off with a snarl.

"She's fucking convulsing, dumbass. We don't have time for your stupid fucking power trips, get her to a fucking hospital."

Stolas stared at him, surprise filtering across his eyes. "I-"

"Is mom okay?" Octavia asked, her voice shaking as Blitzø glanced towards her.

"Stolas." Blitzø warned, grinding his teeth. His tail lashed behind him as he looked away from Octavia. "Hospital."

Stolas grunted, slamming his hand against the ground and ripping a portal directly into an emergency room underneath them.

Blitzø jumped backwards as Stolas and Stella fell through, unwilling to let himself be caught in the same portal. He turned his attention back to Octavia, feeling is stomach lurch as the girl stared at him, fear in her eyes.

"Blitzø?" She asked quietly and Blitzø held out a hand.

"Stella will be fine. She just had a bit of a bad episode." Blitzø held his hand out to Octavia, watching as she hesitantly reached out for him.

Her hand closed tightly around his fingers and Blitzø felt bile rise in the back of his throat as he led the kid out of the ruined house. He gave a brief apology to their hosts, explaining that there had been an emergency (no, he absolutely did not know why half their barn was ripped to shreds. Couldn't tell them a thing, strange morning weather, maybe?) and Stella and Stolas had left immediately.

Chapter Text

It was three days before Blitzø got Stolas alone in his study, after the incident. He had already checked in on Stella that morning, ensuring she didn't need anything while Octavia perched on the edge of the bed to show Stella something she had seen in a book that she had gotten recently. It was not, a balm to Blitzø's sanity, another dictionary, but something Stolas had found while in Wrath, describing various different farm animal species and their variations throughout the centuries.

Now that he finally had Stolas's attention -he was glaring at Stolas from across the desk- his anger and frustraiton boiled over.

"All these fucking years Stolas and you could have helped her with-" He threw his hands up, Stolas crossing his arms over his chest, looking bored as he listened.

"It was never an agreement of our marriage." Stolas cut in. "Besides, Stella quickly made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. Why should I have bothered?" Stolas asked.

Blitzø picked up the heaviest object he could find (a crystal ball Stolas had picked up... somewhere) and chucked it at Stolas's head. Stolas caught it before it even came close to hitting him, setting it back on his desk. He spent several minutes rearranging it before he looked back up at Blitzø.

"Throwing a fit will get you nowhere." Stolas commented icily. "I don't like the accusations against my character, Blitzø." He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I get that you and Stella have a fucking hate boner for each other," Blitzø ground out, electing to ignore Stolas's comment, "but you shouldn't let your wife suffer horrendous seizures as a side effect of her visions she has never been taught to control if you could have helped her! They could kill her, Stolas. I get it, you don't care about your family, but that's a living, breathing demon that you're just going to let die."

"That's not true." Stolas at least had the decency to look guilty as he uncoiled his arms, clearing his throat. "I do, you know."

"Do what?" Blitzø asked flatly.

"Care for my family, of which I do consider you part of." Stolas looked down at his hands, letting out a sigh. "I trust you, Blitzø, because I consider you my family and I know that you can protect Stella and Octavia, much better than I could ever. I know we don't have the most... conventual relationship..."

Blitzø glowered at him.

"But you are my family and I do care for you. I trust your opinions above all else and I... won't just replace you." Stolas murmured, his gaze softening as he looked at Blitzø. "Please don't think you don't matter to me."

Blitzø let out a snort, shaking his head. "Only you could take an argument about your wife and make it about you and me." He threw his hands up, letting out another short laugh. "Why bother even trying to help her? At the end of the day, you got out of the marriage what you wanted."

"I trust you," Stolas said, voice dropping low, "because I know that you will always put my family first, as I want you to always do. You did exactly what I would have wanted you to do, right down to yelling at me to take Stella to the hospital, but I will only tolerate so much insolence from my head of security. You are pushing that line, Blitzo."

Blitzø stared at Stolas, the demon giving him the time to process exactly what Stolas meant. "If you consider me your family, then you get to deal with all my family insolence all the fucking time, bitch." Blitzø growled in warning. "Which means-"

"We don't do anything?" Stolas asked hopefully.

"We have a family meeting, the three of us. If you... want to have an actual relationship with me, we include Stella in the discussion." Blitzø said finally.

Stolas sighed but waved his hand. "Fine, tomorrow, after Octavia goes to sleep, we can talk about it. Oh, I had the Goetian courts detain Andrealphus." Blitzø was already halfway to the door when he heard those words.

Blitzø paused, glancing over his shoulder in confusion. "What?"

"He hired Striker to assassinate me." Stolas said coldly. "Instead, he scared my daughter and now I have to help Stella." Stolas sighed, shaking his head. "He will be dealt with, in time. Thank you for your protection of my family, Blitzø."

"Oh." Blitzø stared at Stolas, watching as the demon went back to the paperwork on his desk. He held the pen in his hand this time, not leaving his magic to do the work for him. He stared at Stolas for several minutes, struggling to figure out what the demon was getting at.

"I will figure out what to do with Stella in the meantime." Stolas promised. "Now, if you have nothing else to add, get out." Stolas warned and Blitzø scrambled out of the study and back to his rooms.

**

Blitzø had been so certain that Stolas would call off the little get together, and he had been nervous most of the day. He was so used to Stolas deciding that it was just easier to not change, but he was impressed when Stolas kept the meeting.

Stolas hadn't really relished the thought of taking a late dessert in one of the parlors, but Stella had agreed.

Stolas dolled out the sweets and glasses of brandy, arranging chairs in front of the fire. He placed Blitzø in the middle, with Stella to Blitzø's right and Stolas to his left. Blitzø was impressed that Stolas ceded the middle to him as he slouched in his chair, holding his glass of brandy while setting his dessert on the small table that Stolas had placed in front of the chairs.

He was a little angry that Stolas expected Blitzø to take point.

"Are you feeling better, Stella?" Blitzø asked, toying with his fork and not quite looking at her. She raised an eyebrow, sliding her gaze from Blitzø to Stolas.

"I've felt worse, why?" Stella demanded, her own plate set on the table as well. She had taken it from Stolas and placed it down before he even turned his back, her disdain filled gaze locked on the man.

Blitzø cleared his throat, glancing at Stolas. "Stolas wants to help you with your... visions."

"Why?" She asked, eyes narrowed.

"I can teach you to control your visions, in order to tame them, so to speak." Stolas told Stella and Blitzø was happy to hear there was guilt in his words. "I could have done it years ago..."

Stella stared at him, looking down at her hands before looking back up at Stolas. "I... you could have helped me? Why are you telling me this now?"

Stolas glanced away, uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat. "I didn't feel the need to, when we first married. You were quite... rude to me."

"But you do now." Stella said dully, staring back at Blitzø in understanding. "Because your fuck toy-" She began, her voice rising in anger.

"I'm tired." Blitzø said, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't care about the look Stella gave him or the way Stolas gestured at Stella as if she was making his own point for him. "The two of you spend so much time fucking arguing, you can't keep track of your kid at times. Stolas spends so much chasing after me, his daughter could have walked off a cliff and he wouldn't notice. I am so tired of being the babysitter to your negligence."

Stella closed her mouth, glancing at Stolas, who rolled all four of his pupils behind Blitzø's back for her.

"And what are you going to do about it, imp?" Stella demanded.

"I'm going to blow my fucking brains out if you two don't stop." Blitzø warned, pulling his gun out of his pocket and slamming it on the table. "There's one bullet in the chamber, with five empty chambers. The more you two bicker, the more I pull the trigger. Got it?"

Stolas licked his lips, sitting up in interest. "That is kind of hot."

"Stolas." Blitzø warned and he lifted his hands in defeat, going back to lounging in his chair, kicking one leg over the armrest. "We get through this conversation without arguing, understood? And we stop constantly biting each other's throats afterwards. I am over both of your whiny meaningless bitching! I don't give a shit that neither of you wanted to get married, because you're stuck with each other."

"We have six chances." Stolas commented.

"I know which camber the bullet is in." Blitzø replied. "And I'm not below cheating. Are we clear?"

"Fine. Terms accepted." Stolas agreed, grinning at Blitzø when he noticed the startled look Blitzø gave him.

"Yes." Stella echoed, staring at the gun in surprised. Her gaze skittered to Blitzø and she studied him. He repressed the shudder when Stella finally looked away from him.

"Stella, did you... see anything when you... collapsed?" Blitzø asked curiously.

Stella made a noise in the back of her throat, looking away from the pair of them. "There was... a coldness to the vision, a void I haven't felt before. But I couldn't..." She shook her head. "There was just a lot of nothing."

"Lovely." Blitzø considered the vision before putting the matter aside for the moment. "Stolas, what is your offer to Stella?" Blitzø nudged.

Stolas turned his attention to Stella. "I would like to help you control the visions, if you will let me?" He asked, hesitant as he stared at Stella warily.

"Why didn't you help me, before?" Stella asked after a moment, letting her hurt leak into her words.

Stolas sat up in his chair, cupping his cup in his hands and letting out a sigh. "I didn't think it was worth my time." He didn't have the guts to look up at Stella as he spoke.

Stella scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Of-"

"Don't." Blitzø sighed, shaking his head.

"Right..." Stella shifted, looking back up at Stolas. "Why should I trust that you want to help now?"

"I do not wish for you to die, Stella." Stolas said finally, looking up from his drink. "I treated you poorly, because I was unsure how I was supposed to... interact with others. I thought love would be interesting, but I never felt that spark for you. The whole marriage felt like a sham and I just didn't want to deal with it, anymore. It... is a poor excuse." His shoulders slumped and he threw back the rest of his brandy. "I should have helped you from the beginning. Because that was the right thing to do."

"I... tried." Stella said quietly and Stolas frowned at her, confused. "I tried to make this relationship work, Stolas, but you always brushed me off. Then you bring this imp home with you and you aren't secret about the affair, dragging it out whenever you felt it was good for you. I tried so hard to figure out what you wanted and you gave me... nothing. I felt abandoned. I don't care that you're gay, Stolas. I wish you had talked to me."

Stolas opened his mouth, closing it and accepting the comment. "I should have done better by you. I can always try... to be better."

"Why should I believe you?" Stella asked sharply, angrily wiping the tears out of her eyes.

"I've hurt you and that's not fair." Stolas began, "but you are my family, Stella. I... don't love you, I don't think I can, but I do care for you."

"And him?" Stella demanded sharply, jerking a finger and Blitzø.

"Oh, I do care for Blitzø," Stolas said, his eyes hooded as he smirked at Blitzø, "but it's an obsession, lust, the pull and press of power-"

"Gross." Blitzø cut in, "stop that."

Stolas rolled his eyes. "He's an interesting puzzle, Stella, in a way you simply... aren't."

"Oh." Stella said blankly, staring at the pair of them.

Blitzø groaned but it was more playful this time. "Do you see the shit I have to put up with?" He whined and she arched an eyebrow. "Also, Stolas decided that I'm part of his fucked up family, so you aren't getting rid of me easily."

"Thank you." Stella said, turning her attention to Blitzø and he looked at her in confusion. She spread her arms. "This is the most talking Stolas and I have done in years without it devolving into an argument. And... thank you, for protecting us."

"Yes, but darling, please don't put yourself in danger like that again. You could have gotten gravely injured." Stolas said, turning his attention to Blitzø.

Stella opened her mouth, but when she realized that Stolas was addressing Blitzø instead of her, she let it go. She shouldn't have been surprised by the anger that was in Stolas's gaze, but she was. She let out a sigh, but sat back in her chair, watching as the pair bickered back and forth about Striker and she found herself actually laughing when Stolas huffed and slunk back in his chair, his tail twitching into his lap as he crossed his arms over his chest in frustration.

"Is he always like that for you?" Stella asked curiously and Blitzø grinned.

"Not when he's gagged." Blitzø remarked.

Stolas opened his mouth to protest, but instead just smiled at the pair, shaking his head slowly and letting them talk. He topped off their glasses with a casual wave of his hand when they were running low, ready to settle in for a good nap in his chair.