Chapter Text
Blitzo’s eyes widen and his face contorts into one of pure shock as his ears are assaulted with curses and swears that he wasn’t even sure existed.
But from the way two glowing red eyes peer over the tilted over couch to look at him, he wasn’t about to comment on it.
Said eyes widen for a moment, before small slivers of white circles enter them, staring deep into Blitzo’s soul.
Blitzo’s arms feel as if they’re going numb, so he looks down at his hands which are firmly planted on the floor.
Too firmly.
A gray crawls up his tan skin as his eyes widen in horror.
Up to his elbows, by a round skull tattoo that is covered in scars.
Up to his forearm.
God, he’s gonna die here.
He wonders if he’s going to see-
Warmth re-enters his arm, and he gains mobility in the limb again.
”Fucking Lucifer..” A british voice groans from a few feet away.
Blitzo turns his head to see a feathered blue head dimly lit from the candles previously set up, an obsidian talon clutching the— forehead? He wasn’t sure, the fucker hasn’t turned around, so how was he supposed to know if it was even a face.
Maybe was swirling darkness where his face should be.
Maybe it was his deepest darkest fears.
The feathered head turns around and—
…
Woah.
Pretty bird.
Blitzo blinks, and the bird looking person glares at him.
He opens his lips to say something, until he hears a door creak open.
He has two choices— tackle the probably very dangerous being in his living room into a closet to avoid being seen, or letting someone see said probably very dangerous being in his living room.
The lanky thing goes down with a hoot, and a protest forms on his lips as he’s shoved into the dark oak closet, but Blitzo puts a hand on that black beak.
Said beak is razor sharp, and he instantly recoils, shutting the closet door as a small spot of blood appears on his finger tip.
A bright light is flipped on, enveloping the room in a warm orange light. A figure stands a few feet away, in the hallway near the door. When Blitzo squints, he makes out Millie’s face.
“Milllllsss! What, your dork ass husband not keep you satisfied enough? You comin’ for me for he-.”
“What in the Lord’s name is this racket all ‘bout?” The southern woman groans, leaning against the wall.
”I- I uh…” He scans the room. Couch just about flipped over, candles scattered about, and a single blue feather in the middle of the room. “Fell over.”
”You fell over.” Millard deadpans, unimpressed.
Blitzo felt like he was being scolded— oh, this would not stand!
”Yeah I did.” He answers weakly, subconsciously fiddling with his thumbs.
Millie rolls her eyes. “Could ya be a little more quiet when you ‘fall over’ next time, Blitzø?” She doesn’t wait for a answer as sinks back into the bedroom.
Well, technically, it was not still standing.
Just as he’s silently celebrating his victory, he feels a cold creep up his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck rise as he whips around to the closet behind him. Caustically, he creaks open the oak.
. . .
Nothing?
Fuck, he had just put that tall bastard in there under five minutes ago! Where in the world—
“Boo.”
Blitzo just about fucking faints, that threat of unconsciousness saving him from squealing like a pig.
”God,” He says as he whips around, his voice a hissing whisper. “Did you need to?!”
The demon covers his beak with an obsidian talon, a hooting giggle coming from the person— was it even a person? Blitzo isn’t sure.— who has surely been terrorizing people down in hell, this thing was probably made of his worst memories and nightmares.
It was embarrassing how drawn to that laugh he was.
The two stare in silence for a few moments before the entity before Blitzo sighs. Maybe it rolled its eyes, he couldn’t tell. Freaky fucking pupilless eyes. It extends a long skinny hand, a white light outlining its talons.
”Stolas of the Ars Goetia, how may I be of service?”
Blitzo looks down at its— no, Stolas’s hand and instantly scoffs.
”What on gods green earth are you?” He hopes his voice is commanding and asserting, because by god, he’s fucking terrified.
“I’d assume you’d know, seeing as you summoned me,” Stolas says, examining his talons. When Blitzo stares at him, the dots connect.
For some reason.
”Holy fucking shit.”