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Chapter Text

“What the fuck do you keep looking out for, dad?”

Stolas dug his unevenly bitten nails into the wood of the side of the ship. He had been standing bent over on the main deck, having his entire body being splashed by the cold saltwater as he kept his focused gaze on the horizon. He winced at the pain the action caused to shoot up his fingers but more so at the frustrated, taut tone in his daughter’s words.

He turned sheepishly around and his eyes flickered towards where his daughter was pulling constantly at the cinched waistline of the frilly dresses she never preferred before he finally looked at her small, pale face. He sighed at the sharp glint in her eyes that did nothing to distract from the wetness gathering at their edges. Stolas’ shoulders quickly sunk, his disciplined, stiff posture deflating in the face of his daughter’s very visible impatience.

“Via, dear, I told you. I will never let you be forced into anything you do not want for yourself. I have a plan set in place to get us out, just trust me.”

“Yes,” Octavia spit out, her hands stopped their fiddling with her dress, “So you’ve been saying every fucking time I’ve asked. Will you please tell me what is going on? How are we going to escape this? Dad, please.”

Stolas curled his fists tightly at his sides, darting his long neck in a bird-like motion towards the peacefully swaying flag carrying the ‘Ars Goetia’ insignia tied to the mast of their ship and felt disgust take hold of his depths. His daughter, his lovely, sweet daughter, who was now suffering because he was too much of a coward to stand up to people.

It was only a few months ago that Stolas was standing roiling in the same anger and disgust in front of his wife, his relatives from far and wide, some of whom he had never known before, and his father in all of his looming glory that was absent throughout most of his life, while they discussed arranging a potential suitor for Octavia as she came of age at another one of Stella’s lavish galas.

It was with the same curled fists at his side, his nails digging into his palms, as well as a dizzying amount of shame, that he had bowed his head as his father had more or less commanded him to go along with Stella and her brother as they suggested a potential match from a family of dukes of one of the smaller islands surrounding the Pride ring. It was time for her to uphold the same traditions of the family as them, he had said, the man who had never even met his granddaughter once.

That night, as Octavia had locked herself in her room with a slammed door after staring him down with the most betrayed and heartbroken look as Stella had gleefully shared the news with her, Stolas had made up his resolve to help his precious daughter escape this fate by any means.

Stella had threatened him with public humiliation about his ‘preferences’ as she had put, with a disgusted sneer, and a potted plant thrown at his face alike if he dared to oppose her arrangements in any way. And Stolas, damn him, had felt that familiar trembling taking over every nerve in his body, which had become an accustomed feeling over the seventeen years he had had to share living space with her. He felt his retorts seize up his throat, his breathing turning more laboured, as he watched her laugh in that boisterous way she always did after having got her way.

His eyes followed her blankly as she walked away while throwing him his daily reminder of ‘what a pathetic fucking man’ he is. He did indeed feel very pathetic then so he had nodded to himself in finality and went to his study to write a letter to request an audience with an old friend.

“So, let me get this right,” Vassago had delicately held the teacup to his lips and slurped louder than was proper etiquette, “You want to stage a pirate attack while you and your daughter are on the ship to Pride for her engagement? And you want them to take you both hostage?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Stolas had exclaimed, his fingers tapping gleefully on the old book he had drawn out of a corner of one of his shelves, “I’ll pay as much as is required but I believe this is the only way. They will not leave Via be and I was foolish to believe that if I continued being dutiful to the family I might be allowed some leeway on her upbringing. You know how Stella can be.”

Stolas ran his narrow palm over the cover depicting a painted figure of a sneering, imposing man with a gun pointed at a panicked merchant crew, leading his own crew onto the ship. He had stilled when he heard the clink of a cup being put down on the tea plate across the desk and looked up as Vassago put one elbow up on the desk and rested his sharply carved jaw on the back of his tawny hands.

“I do, Stolas. I’m truly sorry they are forcing this on your daughter. But,” Vassago looked into his eyes sharply then, “You get ‘taken hostage’, then you somehow stage your ‘executions’ for being royals to make everyone believe you are dead, and what after, then? Where exactly do you plan to go with your daughter?” Stolas had opened his mouth to reply and shut it as Vassago rambled on, “You do realise what you’re planning to give up, don’t you? Your title, your privileges, all your possessions as part of the royal family of the Goetia. You would give up being a Prince over this? Surely there is some other way?”

“I would give up anything if it means Octavia is happy, Vassago,” Stolas took his long, bony fingers and had scratched absent-mindedly at the healing bruise around the circumference of his forearm. He thought back to when Stella had grabbed, in her words, his ‘scrawny, ashy’ arms and demanded he knock some sense into his daughter after another dinner where Octavia had pushed her chair back and left the room mid-meal. Her mother had once again started talking about the plans she was making for her engagement and about all the lessons she would have to attend to start dressing and carrying herself like someone of her status instead of whatever her bad example of a father let her do.

“I am not first in line for my father’s throne, not even the tenth. I don’t think me going missing would cause much of an uproar.”

“36th, if I am correct. That is an admirable sentiment, Stolas. This just feels like a…flight of fancy, even for you,” Vassago had tried to put in as much sympathy in his voice as he could faced with this laughable, half thought out plan and Stolas had been grateful for that, “So many things would have to go right for this to work the way you want it to. This is not one of your fantasy books, you understand that?”

“Can you or can you not help me, Vassago?”

The excitement in Stolas had been dimming and his dark amber eyes withered under the disbelief of the only person he could have trusted with all this. Vassago was, after all, involved in dealing with the trade and merchant business.

He had slumped over his table, pressing his forehead to the cool wood, and groaned as he started thinking about other ways he could contact sailors or ship crews to carry this out. He had felt a jolt of thrill in his core at imagining having to disguise himself and slinking into taverns frequented by visiting merchants in the more unsavoury parts of the city of Solomon. Or even visiting pirates.

He heard a long drawn out sigh from above him and had let his lips stretch into a grin.

All Vassago could see in that moment was a young, chubby child hobbling around with his heavy book on star charts and herb studies that he had been handed on his birthday, complaining indignantly to a teenage Vassago, in between pants and sniffles, about his newly arranged marriage with a girl from overseas. Vassago had known Andrealphus then, the heir Marquis of an island near Pride. Knew about his terror of a sister too, from the wide array of destruction she was feared to leave behind wherever she stormed through, throwing her tantrums.

To think of Andrealphus arranging another match for this poor guy’s daughter, another sweet soul, Vassago felt a snarl had lodged in his throat, difficult to swallow down. Suddenly, he had felt invested.

“I guess I could arrange for a small group of merchants to play the role for a good price. I will have to ensure their safety after, so we may need to purchase a whole ship that can be abandoned later, just for this purpose. We also have to come up with a failsafe plan to make it believable that you two were killed somehow. Hmm, but my question still stands, Stolas. Where will you take your daughter after?”

“Asmodeus’ city. I just need a safe passage to Lust ring of islands. Father wouldn’t dare cross a royal of higher status until he was sure of my being there and Lust is the farthest away. I just have to find us a place to live in and hide our identities until the Goetia tire of searching for us,” Stolas had lifted his fluffy head of hair and blinked rapidly through his lashes, eagerness seeping back into his voice.

Vassago had smiled, reminded of the time he had compared Stolas’ likeness to a wide-eyed owl with his slim, pointed beak-like nose and pouty lips, “Andrealphus would love to find a way to take over everything you possess. You’re just handing him easy access to all of it with this.”

“I do not care about that. Him and Stella can enjoy all the wealth and status they want to. They will not bring my daughter into this strange attempt of theirs at another power grab,” Stolas’ eyes, which slightly slanted upwards at the outer corners, had sharpened as his gaze swivelled towards the full moon starting to show outside his study.

“Oh, yes? And how much of this is out of your own desperation to escape your harpy of a wife?” Vassago had raised an eyebrow, fixing his gold-rimmed glasses with one graceful flick of a finger, his dark brown but kind eyes trying to regain eye contact.

“I—I—uh, um,” Stolas had straightened up, chuckling nervously, his nails digging into his thigh under the desk, “I don’t—“

“Calm down,” the other man brushed off invisible dust from his sleeve as he had sat back, “Alright, let us plan it all out then.”

Stolas had knocked on Octavia’s door a few hours later, his head dropping at the sound of a timid, teary “Go away” from within, ignoring it to turn the knob instead. Nobody in their palace locked their doors anyway. Unless they wanted an irked Stella to pound on them repeatedly, offended over a hint of being denied entrance to any part of ‘her palace’.

“Dad?” Octavia had peeked through from where she had drawn a thick blanket over herself, her amber eyes, the shape of them the same as Stolas’, just a lighter shade, overflowing with tears, “Please leave me alone, dad. It’s bad enough that I have to listen to mother go on and on about something I was never even asked about, I’m really not in the mood for your attempts at consoling me.”

And Stolas had sat at the foot of her bed and told her about how his marriage was arranged the same way, just much, much earlier, how Stella and he were never really happy with each other (he pulled down the ruffles at the end of his sleeves over the bruises), and how Stolas had taken one look at the bald, wailing baby in his arms seventeen years ago and had decided she would always get to live a life that she herself would want.

“What are you saying, dad?” His daughter had come out of her cocoon by then, her pale face looking his over, suspiciously.

“I’m telling you to trust me. Just this once,” Stolas had taken one of her hands, holding onto it between his own, rubbing it gently, “Your mother will leave with your uncle for Pride in a couple of days to reach ahead and arrange what they think is necessary. We will then leave on another ship headed there in a week.”

“Dad,” and Stolas’ heart had shattered at the tears coming back to his daughter’s reddened eyes, but he couldn’t tell her everything then. This had to work before he gave her any hope.

“Please, Via, just this once,” Stolas had pleaded, “Please trust me. I will take care of things. Just…come along with me.”

That had been the end of that conversation, because his daughter had huffed at him and nodded once, resolutely. They had fallen asleep discussing the shape of star clusters over the seas and how to navigate them for a while.

Now, as they both returned to their shared chamber on the ship after another dinner, after another uneventful day, their destination nearing every hour, Stolas himself felt antsy. A familiar itch under his skin whispered to him to just throw the plan away, take his daughter and find another way to escape their fates. After all that meticulous planning, where the fuck was Vassago’s designated crew of ‘pirates’ who would take them hostage?

Octavia climbed into her single bed a space away from Stolas’, an exhausted sigh leaving her, and Stolas started mindlessly rambling about the new novel he had brought with him. About this masked vigilante and a princess whose carriage he planned to rob but whom he was falling in love with instead. Octavia groaned from her prone position and Stolas winced as he realised that this maybe wasn’t the best choice of topic while she was losing hope everyday of escaping a marriage to someone she had never laid eyes on.

Stolas prepared for another night of growing silence between them, spent awake with his novels, an excuse for avoiding the sleep that just wouldn’t come.

His ears perked up at a sudden uproar from above deck, from his crew that he had kept to a bare minimum so it would be easier to carry his plan out. He felt something like a chirp leave him as he almost stumbled off to the floor in his haste to get out of bed.

“What’s happening?” Octavia blinked as she rapidly sat up in her bed and nervously made to follow Stolas.

“No, no, Via,” Stolas sat beside her as the shouts above grew louder, something about an approaching ship, he made out. He grinned widely, a giggle leaving him because fucking finally.

“Via, sweetie, listen to me, alright?” Octavia was confused by the rapidly changing expressions on her father’s face which settled finally on a very serious, furrowed look, so she listened, “I need you to change into the plainest clothes you have, right now,” Stolas got up and walked around the bed to take out a brown jute sack from under his bed, dragging another already filled one out after.

He threw the empty one to his daughter before grabbing the novel from the bed and shoving it into the other one, “Here, go pack whatever you need to keep into this.”

He had snatched up whatever highly valued things he could fit into the sack before they left the docks of Solomon so he could sell them off once they reached Lust. Along with his Grimoire, that he just couldn’t part with as easily as he does with his crown now.

Stolas watched Octavia walk around the chambers in a daze just before he closed the door to it and went running to the main deck to talk to his captain. He had to dodge several people running around, armed with various blades and reached to stand next to a harried-looking man yelling out orders. Stolas could see a fire in the distance, lighting the arrival of the ship blocking their route.

“I have no idea how they found us,” his captain, a much younger man than was expected from his position, handed Stolas the naval telescope to look through at the other ship, “They’re pirates, alright. Sire, please go back to your chambers and arm yourself. We will take care of things here. It looks like a small enough pirate ship that we might be able to hold them off.”

Stolas, of course, tried to find the flag on the other ship. Vassago had said striped horns and a snake coiled under. In the only light provided by the full moon and the fire warning the arrival of the other ship, Stolas could barely make out the dirty flag waving at its mast.

It looked similar enough that he felt hope bubbling promptly within him.

Still, he tried to sound grim as he handed the telescope back, “Yes, yes, of course.”

This was it, he thought as he watched the other ship approach closer, this was finally his chance at escape from a suffocating life. This was his chance to set his daughter on a different path than his own.

He ran into the chambers and had to hug Octavia who was now dressed in muted colours. A loose white blouse with a dark brown vest hanging equally as loose over it, dark blue slacks tucked into the muddy boots she used to wear while she went horse riding.

“Dad, what—“ she pushed him away carefully as her father fussed over her hair and tied up the shoulder length raven locks into a low ponytail.

“You look lovely, Starfire. Listen, we’re going to be taken hostage in the next few minutes.”

“What the fuck?” Octavia really should have suspected the state of her father’s sanity sooner, maybe the sea-sickness was getting to him. She swung her arms at her sides, shaking them a few times, as she watched him frantically throw out clothes from his chest and lay out some similar to what she had worn.

“Language. But, yes. Yes, don’t worry. We are meant to be taken hostage, but we’ll be safe, okay? I’ll explain everything later but right now, just follow along with whatever I do.”

Octavia turned away as her father started changing and her pupils moved upwards from where sounds of gunfire, clanging blades, and shouts, of pain and exertion alike, carried through the ceiling replacing the stillness there was just a few minutes back.

Okay, she inhaled and exhaled, inhaled, then exhaled, okay, trust dad, Octavia, trust dad and hope he knows what the fuck he’s doing.

She flinched away as a weight rammed into their door. She backed away into the closest corner which happened to be the one beside her bed as she saw the hinges give in, almost hitting her head on the wall while doing so. She saw her father turn his head towards the door, paused in his dressing, holding his light red shirt, his arms through the billowy sleeves.

“Dad, will you please—“ she cut herself off with a gasp as the door curved in and a loud hit from the other side flung it open, the upper hinges hanging off.

A messy head of shortly trimmed dark hair with a huge chunk of chalky white strands came into view first, followed soon by a man about the same height as Octavia running gloved fingers through them, huffing in annoyance.

“Ugh, sturdy fucking doors,” the man raised his head and Octavia backed away into her corner even further as his face revealed burn scars over the whole of its right side, all mottled skin, paler in contrast to his richer, tan side of face. It made his annoyed expression look even more menacing.

The look soon gave way to a lazy growing smirk as Octavia saw those dark brown eyes travel towards her father standing in the middle of the room, blinking slowly at the intruder, still undressed, for fuck’s sake.

“Didn’t expect such a lovely ‘welcome aboard’ sight but I can’t really complain,” the man whistled lowly, looking Stolas over. Stolas shook his head, coming back to himself after the momentary shock of the door being broken. A light heat crept onto his cheeks, probably very noticeable against his white skin, and he finished dressing, pulling a dark red, high-necked vest over his shirt, buttoning it up as well.

Couldn’t they have just knocked on the door, he huffed as he pushed back some of the light, silvery strands of his hair that had strayed during the whole ordeal.

He let his eyes fall onto the man who would be ‘kidnapping’ them. The man had taken to leaning up against the side of the door, a pistol, Stolas took note, that he kept twirling in one hand. Despite the sweaty, messed up look of the ‘pirate’, Stolas observed with mild satisfaction that the man was really quite roguishly good-looking.

Vassago really had thought of everything, considering his own tastes, Stolas might even enjoy this ‘experience’ a little more.

“All done, princess?” The man stood up straight but a whimper from the corner of the chamber made both their heads swivel towards the shivering girl who whispered a quiet, “Dad?”

“Oh shit, there’s a kid here,” Stolas heard the man mutter and rolled his eyes. He softened his gaze as he walked towards Via and brought her along to stand in front of the man who stood about a head shorter than him.

“Of course,” he said, haughtily, “Now, can we move this along? How do we do this?”

“Wha—“ the man looked extremely taken aback by Stolas’ casual and absolutely not intimidated demeanour, deeply distinct to the terrified girl he held by the shoulders at his side.

“Well, aren’t you supposed to take us hostage?” Stolas let out a short laugh, rolling his eyes as deliberately as he could, “Is this your first day on such a job?”

The man blinked at him. A moment, then two passed, and he shook his head as Stolas tapped a foot impatiently down. He reached into the pockets of the long, leather coat he wore and brought out two small bags. To go over their heads, Stolas presumed. He snatched them out of the shorter man’s hands.

“I’ll do this. My daughter might get too scared if you do it. Our belongings are in those two sacks, if you would bring them along,” Stolas demanded of the yet again shocked man. Ugh, this was turning out to be less thrilling than he had imagined.

“Wow, this is the most convenient loot of my life,” Stolas ignored the man’s muttering yet again as he stepped into the room to shuffle around and poke at the sacks and everything else around. He turned to kneel in front of Octavia.

“Octavia, Starfire, sweetie, I’m going to put this over your head now, alright? There’s nothing to be afraid of,” at that, the man looked over them and made a sound as if to interrupt so Stolas aimed a glare at him and focused on his daughter’s flitting gaze in front of him. Little sobs were starting to escape her and Stolas once again had to remind himself that this was necessary, he was doing it for her, “We’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, dad’s taking care of things. Trust me. I’ll hold onto your hand until this thing comes off your head.”

Stolas carefully pulled the sack over his daughter’s head after she lowered her head, making sure there was enough gap for her to breathe properly.

“Now,” he looked over at the man standing to the side, both his hands on his hips, watching them, “Um? Sacks? Grab them, how long do you plan to take?”

Stolas pulled a sack over his own head as he heard a frustrated growl from him. It did send an instinctual shiver down his spine, but this whole thing being planned out did take some of the thrill out of the experience, he supposed. He grabbed onto his daughter’s slightly smaller hand and squeezed comfortingly, smiling as he felt a squeeze back.

The smile dropped as he felt a rough push at the small of his back, making him stumble a few steps forward.

“Walk along, then, if you’re that desperate for a kidnapping. Could probably make a lot ransoming you two off,” he heard the muffled voice of the man drop lower.

He’s just playing the part, Stolas told himself, no need to get angry, he’s just trying to make things look more convincing as we make our way off this ship.

I’m paying him, for fuck’s sake, he thought, setting his jaw, mood souring as he got another couple of rough pushes and had to pull Via along forward with him quite a few steps at a time.

“Do you really have to be so rough?” He whispered hotly behind him, “Is there not a better way to make this look real?”

“The fuck did you just say?” He heard the voice drop again, venomous, and what the fuck, “Look, I don’t know,” another push and the barrel of the pistol shoved in between his shoulder blades, Stolas heard a “sire” from somewhere beside them followed by a thwack, “what you think is happening here,” he felt Via being settled in front of him and a larger hand, warmed by the thick leather gloves on it, wrap around his wrist and another aiming the gun still at his back to guide him along what he realised was probably the plank connecting the two ships, “But I’m getting real fucking tired of this attitude, bitch.”

“Excuse me,” Stolas ripped off the sack from over his head as his feet touched solid wood all around and pushed away the hair that fell over his face, “Have care how you speak to me.”

He turned to his side to pull the sack off Via’s head and great, she looked scared again, these fucking inexperienced, uncouth bastards, Stolas would have loved to tell Vassago about this once he figured out how to contact him again.

“Oh, really?” The man crossed his arm over, and Stolas definitely was not looking, a maroon shirt tightly pulled over a broad, toned chest, and raised a dark brow, “Or, what, your Highness? You’re on my ship, as my hostage now. I would watch that fucking high-nosed crap if I were you, if only for your kid’s sake.”

Stolas felt the brimming rage overflow at the mention of his daughter, “If you care to remember, if your thick head is even capable of it, I am the one lining your pockets deep for this job.”

“Job?” Came a high-pitched voice and Stolas finally noticed the three other figures emerging from behind the man onto the ship covered in…blood?

The short woman who had asked that was wiping it off her bare shoulders, holding a sword in one hand and an axe at her back, “What do you mean by that? What job?”

Stolas blinked at the four sets of glaring eyes in front of him, prominent because of the burning flag of ‘Ars Goetia’ in the backdrop, on the other ship. A sense of dread started to seep in along with the sea breeze and Stolas felt his limbs freeze up. He looked over at Octavia who had his forearm in a deathly grip but he could hardly feel it as he looked right back at the man’s glare.

Another man, shorter than this one, also covered in specks of blood but not as much as the woman, exchanged eye contact with her and went towards the helm of the ship. A slightly taller but much younger looking girl, dirty blonde hair shaved on one side and eyes lined heavily with dark liner, rolled her eyes and moved towards the sail along with the dark-skinned woman.

The sail, Stolas noticed, gulping, that had a flag with two striped horns in a ‘V’ shape with a spade ended tail curved below them. Not a snake, not a fucking snake.

The man who had taken them from the ship at Stolas’ insistence, moved closer to them and snapped his fingers directly in his stumped face. Stolas blinked away the tears gathering in his eyes owlishly.

“Um, I’m paying you, right?” He questioned hesitantly, and the man’s eyebrow shot up higher, “Vassago did tell you the whole plan, I assume?”

“Who the fuck is Vassago?”

“Oh, fuck,” Stolas felt his vision go blurry as the sky around him, and oh, the Little fucking Dipper right there, spun faster and faster until nausea set in. He barely heard the dampened but panicked shout of “Dad!” as he fell to his knees heavily and watched the ship he had been kidnapped from becoming smaller, being left farther and farther behind.

Chapter Text

Blitz liked to think he was doing fine as the captain of their ragtag bunch of misfits, taking up odd jobs from whoever offered, carrying them out efficiently. Violently, mostly. He also liked to think he was just fine at pirating, they had ransacked a few ships carrying some high class fuckers before but they had only ever tried looting.

He had played around with the idea of maybe capturing one of those uppity, egotistical bitches and give them a glimpse of real life before they asked for a shit ton of money from their family in exchange for them.

When he had decided on a whim a few weeks ago, as he had overheard some of Striker’s crew gossiping about how they were planning to siege this ship carrying a noble, a Goetia at that, that this was his chance to take both a captive and show up Striker, that sneaky fucker, this was not what he had expected to be dealing with.

Blitz had made a huge fucking mistake.

He sat leaning back on a mast, his elbows digging into his thighs as he cradled his head in his hands, chewing over the cons of just digging his fingers into his ears until they bled. The tall ass fucker in front of him, on his knees and gripping tufts of silver locks, kept wailing like the fucking banshees he had been made to hear stories about.

Ever since he had collapsed after their ship had set sail, the lanky fucker had started tearing up and hadn’t stopped since, yelling to the skies about what an idiot he was and yeah, Blitz agreed, just for the fuck of it. His daughter was standing by his trembling form, looking down on it with anger twisting up her whole slightly pudgy face.

Blitz looked up with a groan as he felt a familiar hand squeeze his shoulder to catch his attention. Millie raised a thick eyebrow when he thunked his head softly on the wood behind him and then cocked her head at the pair in front of them.

He shrugged helplessly but pushed himself to stand anyways. This was going on far too long. First, the asshole had gone and ordered Blitz around like he was another of his servants and now, he was challenging the limits of their eardrums.

“Fucking—“ he started with command in his tone that immediately tapered off as the girl looked at him sharply where she stood at Blitz’s eye level, in all her skinny, teenage, glory, the terrified look from before completely disappeared from her eyes. Fuck, these fuckers were both tall as shit.

“This was your plan, dad?” she asked, her voice extremely tight and severe. Maybe Blitz should sit this one out.

The guy raised his head at her, delicate porcelain face all wet and snotty, and cried out, “I didn’t—I thought this was the right ship! It was all going according to what we had discussed. And, not like he was doing anything to suggest he was not working for me.”

Blitz tightened his fists as the guy waved towards him, like Blitz was just a non presence, nothing worthy of paying attention to. He straightened up to his full height, his shoulders drawn taut. This was his ship, dammit.

“Are you done?” He walked over, his boots making heavy stomps on the board below, and took hold of the man by his upper arms clothed in really fucking soft, smooth fabric, his fingers almost encircling the whole circumference. He pulled the beanpole of a guy up on shaking legs and shoved him towards the girl who caught him, glaring at Blitz as the tiny surprise at the rough handling went away.

Blitz scoffed at it as Moxxie and Loona came back to join them from setting the ship on its course away from the scene of the crime.

“I’ll ask again, then. Who the fuck is Vassago?”

“Ugh,” the guy exhaled, slumping against his daughter lightly, “He’s—we—you were not supposed to attack our ship! We had a plan. A ship carrying the flag with—with horns and a snake, that ship would attack us, take us off it and get us…a safe passage.”

Blitz felt the thrum of sudden anger make his head ache. What was this, a fucking game to these pricks?

“You had the Goetia sign flying high and proud, bitch. Did you think nobody would try to attack you?”

“Safe passage to where?” Loona, his amazing, competent daughter, asked while casually examining her nails but so not the point right now.

It was becoming clear to Blitz as he connected the dots that this rich prick had paid Striker’s crew for a preplanned attack on them for some reason. Okay, maybe Loonie was asking the right questions.

“It doesn’t matter,” Blitz was going to keep talking, though, “Too bad we got to you first. Now, let’s get down to the important shit. Who the fuck are you, you tall piece of work, and how much can we get for you? Don’t bother lying, I already know you’re one of them Goetia nobles, and so is your kid.”

“Uh, look here,” the man rubbed at his eyes until the skin around them reddened and Blitz had to roll his eyes as his mind couldn’t help but notice that messy was a really pretty look on him. Too bad he was another of them asshole nobles.

“Look, we can come to a compromise. Yes, yes—this could still work. Listen, pirate, I’m Prince Stolas of the Ars Goetia and if my father, the King of Solomon by the way, finds out you people took us hostage, you’ll be in real fucking trouble.”

Oh. Fuck.

Blitz winced as Moxxie’s loud gasp sounded beside him. He hadn’t thought a tiny ship with so little security would be carrying a fucking prince. He was hoping for a noble holding a less significant position.

“You kidnapped a fucking prince?” Blitz shrunk away as Loona advanced on him with a growl, “Shit, Blitz, we agreed to this weird dick-measuring contest you have had going on with Striker only as long as it stays fun. How could you be this reckless? And you kidnapped a child too!”

“I didn’t!” Blitz waved his gloved hands frantically in front of his face, ignoring the girl behind Loona point to herself matter-of-factly, “I mean I did. But I was just trying to loot them at first! Even then, I was going to walk away when I noticed the kid! This fucking guy had a lot to say about what I was supposed to do.”

He pointed accusingly at the pretty, mussed up man and fuck, Blitz needed to get his head on straight.

At least both the guy and him had something in common at that moment with both their daughters pissed at their dumbasses.

The guy, the fucking Goetian prince, was looking at him critically in a way that suggested he was trying to study Blitz as his daughter clung onto him, looking utterly exhausted.

“Dad did basically ask him to do this,” she pulled her ponytail in front and untangled the ends, unthinkingly, and exhaled out audibly through her nose, throwing the strands back again, “You told me to trust you with this! I cannot believe this was your grand plan. How did you not see how wrong it could all go?”

“Octavia,” and great, Prince looked on the verge of tears again, “I was doing this for you!”

“Oh, great. Guess both of them are fucking idiots,” Loona’s blue eyes, which were piercing through Blitz’s skull, softened as she looked at the younger girl. The fucking kid, Blitz reminded himself, that he had probably scared the shit out of.

In his defence, he would have immediately ordered his crew to pull back if he had known she was on there too! He wasn’t lying about that.

“You can say that again. And again. Probably quite a lot of times,” the girl, Octavia apparently, smiled tiredly at Loona as her father gasped, complete with a fucking hand on his chest and all. Blitz rubbed the furrow between his brows.

“Look,” Millie chirped up from her perched position on the spot she had taken after Blitz vacated it, clearly enjoying whatever was going on in front of her, “Why don’t we lock them in for the night and decide what to do in the morning, Blitz? I’m all worn out for today, not that that fight was very exciting.”

“Oh, that’s right, my crew!” Princey exclaimed indignantly, probably just remembering the people who had been waiting on him day and night for the past few days and wow, Blitz would love to see that attitude tamed down, “Did you kill them? They were innocents!”

Blitz grunted, noncommittally, “No, your fucking Highness, we didn’t kill them,” he grinned toothily as he watched the guy’s shoulder drop in relief, “We just incapacitated them good enough that they’ll not be following us any time soon.”

Blitz almost cackled in the face of the prince going slack-jawed almost as wide as his eyes did, the reddish-gold hue in them glowing in light of the full moon.

“Millie, you’re right,” Blitz pumped a fist in the air, grinning at his friend, “As always. Great job!”

Millie let out a shrill cheer and fell bodily sideways into Moxxie who opened his arms at the last second to catch her. He smiled at her and then turned a disapproving look at Blitz, that killjoy.

“Sir,” he pointed towards the pair of royals who had huddled closer, starting to shiver as the ship started to gain speed in the breeze, “Can we please?”

“Oh, go fuck yourself on your own tiny dick, Moxxie,” Blitz rolled his eyes, turning to Loona who had her arms crossed, lips downturned, “I’m getting to it. Loonie, will you take Legs and little princess here to the spare cabin with the cot?”

Blitz would have happily shoved Princey into a dark storeroom if he had been alone but even he wouldn’t do that to a kid.

“Why would I?” Loona raised her pierced eyebrow and Blitz pointedly looked at the guy’s daughter who had spoken comfortably with her, at least. The girl had had enough shock to her system for the day, she might be more at ease this way. Loona understood what he tried to hint at and sighed.

“Come on,” she turned to the girl who was now rubbing her palm up and down her other arm, “We all need some rest.”

“But, wait,” the mouthy prince chirped up, his hand reaching for his daughter’s, “Listen, pirate, Captain, whatever. We need to discuss—“

“Would you shut the fuck up,” Blitz didn’t know where the warning edge in his tone came from. He raised his shoulders threateningly, cocking his hip to let the coat fall away to expose the pistol strapped to his belt and the tall fucker shrunk in on himself. Good. It would do him some good to remember who was in charge here.

“You’re my hostage. You do what I fucking say. And I say that you and your daughter are going to be locked up tonight while we get our beauty sleep and tomorrow morning I decide what the fuck I’m going to do with you.”

The guy wrapped his arms around his thin form, crossing them over his waist almost too tightly, his entire body trembling in a way that Blitz wasn’t sure anymore was from just the breeze. His daughter, however, glared harder at him, if that was possible.

“Let’s go for now, dad, come on,” she pulled one of his arms away and turned to Loona, “I’m Octavia. Your hair’s really cool.”

She smiled up at Loona as her hands fell to her sides, looking taken aback. She patted the ends of the longer strands on one side and let out a shy giggle. His Loona, giggling, Blitz had to blink to see if he was imagining it.

“Yeah, thanks,” she replied, turning her back to them with a swift turn on her feet and walking away, gesturing at them to follow, “I’m Loona.”

Blitz felt warmness rise in his chest at his daughter getting so shy at an innocent compliment and let his gaze follow the pair as they went after Loona towards the accommodation area of their ship.

“Sir?” Moxxie’s voice came as concerned but frank from somewhere to his side, “We’re so totally fucked, aren’t we?”

Blitz exhaled all the excitement of the night, no retort escaping his lips because fuck him, that fucker was right for once.

Only when Blitz was going through the contents of the sacks that he had hauled from the other ship at the prince’s demands, after he returned to his own quarters, did he realise exactly why he had felt a discomforting familiarity at the guy’s fluffy head of silver blond hair and those almost deep-reddish huge eyes.

He was grinning throughout as he pulled out one item after another, each of them equally of enough value to help people like them settle down comfortably for the rest of their lives, that these royals probably let collect dust in their mansions. The grin dropped as a jolt of instinctual rage went through him as he pulled out a book with a pirate leading a charge on the cover.

A book he had seen before. Exactly once in his life.

Flashes of memories of soft, pleasant giggles, almost like hoots, at his jokes and his father pushing him towards a huge palace sped through his mind. His fingers dug into the book, denting the cover a little.

It can’t be. Blitz may not remember that day very well considering how immensely his life had fucked up since then but there simply can’t be that much of a coincidence in this world.

He shot out of bed, clutching the book in shaking hands, and made his way to where his hostages were, his jaw tense and eyes fervent.

He heard some soft muttering which made him hesitate in front of the door, his hand leaving the handle as he considered knocking for a moment. He immediately discarded the thought. This was his ship. He turned the key to the door and pushed it open with a creak.

The prince paused in his stroking over his daughter’s head while she slept beside him as he was met with the sight of Blitz in the doorway, blocking the dim light from outside. Watching them cramped and cuddled up in the small bed simmered down Blitz’s need to yell at the royal.

Princey, no, Stolas, sat up, his shoulders bunching, his other arm falling on one of his thighs and tightening the fingers painfully over it. He sighed, sounding defeated, and let go of his daughter, laying her down more comfortably, sweeping his fingers over her forehead with one single caress before he slipped out of bed.

Blitz watched the other man’s careful movements, his feet moving in front of the other, noiselessly but without hesitation, until he came to stand right in front of Blitz.

Blitz craned his neck up and tilted his head as a subdued smile formed on the guy’s face, his eyes dull. He let out a breath in the space between them and watched, fascinated, as it made Stolas shiver. He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“If you—“ Stolas stammered out, his head lowered to his own feet, voice softer, still melodic. He cleared his throat, “I know you weren’t expecting to capture a royal Goetia and this puts you in a difficult spot. But…if you have decided to get rid of us, throw us overboard or…or slit our throats, and just get it done and over with, can you please just spare my daughter?”

Blitz blinked at the complete lack of the earlier arrogance in the man’s words. He had thought Blitz had come to dispose of them while they slept? And he was asking Blitz to spare his daughter while pleading nothing for himself?

“Please, just,” Stolas continued, his eyes moving up towards Blitz’s burning ones, his pupils boring into them intensely, “I saw you being considerate of us just because of Octavia’s presence. I assure you—“

Blitz raised a hand to stop him and Stolas flinched back, his arm coming up to guard his face and fucking hell, he wasn’t even going to think about that. The lump on the bed stirred and mumbled in the quiet room.

“Come outside,” Blitz pointed his thumb over his shoulder and backed out of the room, turning around as footsteps followed him, a bit more hesitantly.

They made their way to the main deck, Blitz waving off the sound of worry from Moxxie who had been on lookout duty, and stepped upto a spot on the side of the ship overlooking wave after larger wave illuminated by the moonlight.

Stolas was shifting on his feet behind him, unsure if Blitz was just going to haul him overboard right then and there. And Blitz probably could, without much exertion, seeing as the guy looked like he wouldn’t weigh more than a sack of feathers. He still sighed and held his hands up in surrender.

“No throwing anyone overboard tonight, okay? So, relax,” he said, placatingly, then pushed the book in one hand into the guy’s chest as he let out an ‘oof’ at the impact, “What the fuck is this?”

Stolas looked down at the book, his eyes lighting up in recognition, bringing both hands to hold onto it as Blitz let go, “It’s a book on pirates.”

“Yes, I got that, smartass,” Blitz scoffed, his arms on his hips, “Where the fuck did you get this?”

Stolas blinked at him, slowly, like one of those dumb birds, “It’s mine. Well, it’s old and some of the information is outdated but it is very dear to me. An old friend whom I have very fond memories of loved pirates.”

Stolas chuckled but Blitz could do nothing but scowl towards the water. Old friend? He was bought for the day by a royal in exchange for spare change and it was just a fun little time for this guy?

“Very fond memories, huh,” Blitz hissed out, venomously and watched Stolas’ head snap towards him, his body going rigid again, “Not fond enough to remember the guy, then? Was the ‘old friend’s’ name Blitzo?”

Stolas backed away a step at that as if hit by whiplash. His pupils roamed all over Blitz’s face like he was actually taking in every detail for the first time. Blitz huffed a short derisive laugh and pushed back his sweat damp hair from his forehead, revealing the tattoo there. Stolas inhaled sharply, his palm flying to cover his mouth.

“Blitzo? You—“

“Yeah, the ‘o’ is fucking silent now. So, you’re that same Stolas then,” Blitz looked over shoulders to look him up and down and up again, a whole lot of distance to cover, “Wow, you grew up something, huh?” Blitz chuckled lowly to himself as a dark colour seeped into Stolas’ rounder cheeks which he squished between his own palms to cover them up.

“The ‘o’—you’re—I can’t believe I didn’t recognise—but with the scars—“ Stolas cut himself off with a wince at his own wording as Blitz recoiled, his eyes pinching shut, and turned his head back towards the horizon.

Of course he didn’t recognise you with how fucked up your face is now, Blitz sneered as he leant over the wooden railing, his palm coated in the chalk powder that he covered his front hair strands with, some people grow up to be really hot and rich and some people grow up to be Blitz.

Blitz felt the hair raise on his forearm from where he had rolled up his sleeves, the unburnt skin patches too sensitive, as the delicate fabric of Stolas’ flowy sleeves brushed against it. It seemed like the man now had no qualms about closing the distance between them, coming to stand right beside Blitz and resting his elbows over the railing as well.

“Blitz,” Stolas whispered, almost as if testing out the word, then more surely, “Blitz.”

“That’s me, birdie,” Blitz inwardly rolled his eyes as the nickname he had been thinking of when he looked at the guy even as a child slipped out. Stolas trilled beside him, spluttering and yeah, ‘birdie’ was right.

“I cannot believe we meet again, and under these circumstances,” Stolas stretched out his arms in front of him over the sea, opening and closing them as water splashed against them, “Over two decades later. How many Stolas’ do you even know that it took you so long to make the connection?” he giggled to himself and Blitz took notice of how animated he was when relaxed, “How did you get away from the circus to become a pirate?”

Okay, well, Blitz was not ready to let this almost stranger think they were that close or like friends in any way.

“You’re still my hostage, bitch,” that didn’t at all come out as mean as he had intended, he was just getting tired, that’s all, “Why don’t you answer a few questions I have and nobody would have to walk the plank tomorrow?”

Stolas slumped down on his folded elbows, having to bend at the waist for it, and sighed out, “Yes, of course. What would you like to know?”

Blitz felt the warmth at his side press closer to the length of his arm and hummed at the gentle, easy tone Stolas had taken, now that he felt not threatened with so much uncertainty. Now that he had found what he thought was a source of familiarity. Like he wasn’t in danger anymore, like he could trust Blitz in any way.

Blitz could use this. Maybe if the guy valued their ‘friendship’ so much, they could drop the pair off at their fancy doorstep and he wouldn’t send people after his crew to hang them alive. But, then—

“Why were you waiting for Striker? You said it was all part of a plan.”

“So, his name is Striker. The one with the horns and snake flag.”

Blitz exhaled through his nose at the unanswered question but there was genuine curiosity in Stolas’ words, “Yeah, the horns are kind of a common thing for all us who also work as assassins for hire but the snake is definitely Striker’s thing. Fucker imagines himself a rattlesnake or something. Vain, if you ask me.”

“Assassins? You’re assassins?” Stolas’ head shot up, leaning his long neck away from Blitz, “Oh, fuck, how scared should I have been when I was being a smartass back there on my ship?”

Blitz hid his smile at Stolas’ actually very seriously worded question but hey, at least the guy was self aware.

“Would it have made a difference even if you had known, pompous fucker that you are? We do assassination jobs here and there whenever we get paid for it. This is something we do all by ourselves because pirating is fun. Now stop deflecting and answer my question.”

Stolas had dug his fingers into his crossed elbows as Blitz talked and lowered his head back down on them, “Oh yes, I did plan for things to turn out a different way but this…might be even better. Blitz, will you…help us to Lust?”

“Lust? Is that where you were headed?”

Blitz wondered why Stolas had shifted to put a bit more distance but was quickly distracted by the next sentence out the guy’s mouth.

“No, not initially. We were headed to Pride for Octavia’s engagement,” he did not sound happy about that.

“Engagement? Isn’t she a little too young for that?” Blitz reminded himself that Stolas wasn’t that much older than him either and his daughter was too old for Stolas to have had her at a more mature age, “Oh, is that a royalty thing? You guys usually do some fucked up stuff.”

“It was arranged against her will,” Stolas smiled softly at the ‘what the fuck’ beside him, satisfied that someone acknowledged how shitty it was, “I was planning to get her away from all of that.”

“Ah,” Blitz blinked, realisation setting in, “Why couldn’t you just call it off? Aren’t you a prince? This seems extreme.”

Blitz would not let his heart be moved. He had no obligation to this fucker, no matter how sweet but melancholic his words carried through, no matter how those pretty half lidded eyes peered at him from over their owner’s arms. He had to get their hands washed off the presence of these two as quickly as he could. The people searching for the pair could be upon Blitz’s crew at any hour. And, Blitz would never put anyone over Loona’s safety.

Stolas’ eyes dimmed with a deeply held back sadness and Blitz fucking faltered.

“Yes, I suppose. A true prince who is capable of exercising his powers properly would definitely have done that. I am, however, too pathetic for that, as I am reminded often.”

“Who the fuck reminds a prince of that?”

“My wife, mostly,” Stolas grumbled, “Among others.”

And again, Blitz was aware the kid had to come from somewhere but, “Wife? You?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Stolas lifted a single thinly plucked eyebrow primly at him.

“No, nah, never mind. I mean—“

“It was her idea, the engagement. Or part of her idea, I suppose. She didn’t care what Octavia had to say about it, let alone what I had to say about it. I can—I can handle her shit when it’s aimed at me but I was at a complete loss this time. Now that I talk about it, it all seems so foolish.”

Fuck, that sounded horrible, Blitz didn’t know what was going on in the guy’s life but he felt a need to lighten up the atmosphere.

“Foolish, sure. But your wife does sound like a bitch. Enough of one that you were prepared to leave all your wealth behind to stage your own deaths,” Blitz sighed in relief at the short laugh from the bent form beside him.

“Was it that bad?”

“You have no idea.”

Blitz felt his eyes droop against his will as he kept staring out at the whooshing waves, his shoulders sagging and feeling the shivers wracking up violently through Stolas. Maybe he should get some sleep after all.

“Look, I’ll think on it tonight. I don’t want to risk my team the whole time it would take to make the long ass journey to Lust, they’re always going to be my priority. So, go back to your room and get some sleep, for fuck’s sake. I’m not going to slit your throat. Or…take some time to think of something for your daughter’s safety that you didn’t dream up from a book or a weird little fantasy.”

Blitz pushed away from the railing as the prince lowered his head back onto his arms, silent at the chastisement, and walked away. Not before appreciating the view of the bent over form against the moonlight, he was only human.

Blitz, of course, didn’t get much sleep.

He had sat up against the wall at the head of his bed, his mind running a mile a minute to make sense of all the information it was flooded with in just a few hours. He didn’t even think it was possible for him to think this much.

His first thoughts had been about how to get his crew out of this situation he had put them in, and they were overtaken by the squeaky voice of a cute, chubby kid with amber-ruby, whatever that colour was, eyes getting sad while talking about not having any friends. He thought of the lives those rich assholes lived and riled himself up because any of those fuckers could kiss his ass regardless of how much shit they may be in, he only had to convince himself of that a few times.

But then that same kid was telling him, in some long forgotten memories, that he would make a good pirate someday. It morphed into a teenage girl’s terrified face as she clutched at her father who was doing some dumb shit to save her from a fate she didn’t want. Loona’s smile and soft words when she spoke to the girl but then Loona and Millie and Moxxie were being cuffed and thrown into some dark prison cell, sentenced to death for the crime of kidnapping and endangering royals. And, Blitz had to watch as he failed the only people in his life who tolerated him. Again.

But when the night dragged on and Blitz’s control over his thoughts slackened, he pictured the way those pretty eyes, overflowing with intent, had flickered all over Blitz’s entire form, not at all subtle, when the person they belonged to thought he wouldn’t notice. That high, sing-songy voice escaping out breathily into cold air. A person Blitz would love to fuck.

Shit, a prince he would gladly fuck.

Blitz rubbed both palms roughly all over his face, massaging at the tightness at the edge of the scars, as daylight seeped in through the small window in his cabin. This was not the time to think with his dick.

Was Stolas attractive? Objectively, of course, not that it took much for Blitz to be interested. Was he absolute trouble? Had been the moment Blitz set eyes on him again. It didn’t matter how bright the lilting giggles came from the guy, he was definitely an omen of impending doom.

Okay, Blitz nodded to himself, determined, okay, getting rid of them it is. Would be pretty fucking terrible of him considering he would have to drop that kid off too but her dad would just have to take care of that. Or wait—

Blitz sat up, his mind going blank, as a knock came from the door. He blinked his drowsiness away. Nobody on this fucking ship ever knocked on his door. Loona would have just kicked it in if she needed something and neither of the married couple would get away from their constant necking long enough to bother him this early.

“It’s not locked.”

The door opened all the way slowly with stilted screeching, dragging against the floorboard, and in popped a silver head of hair and the sheepish face it belonged to. Oh damn, those features looked prettier in the daylight.

“Blitz,” Stolas crooned, too fucking cheerfully, like an early morning bird call, “You’re up. I was wondering if we could continue our conversation from last night.”

Blitz breathed in some patience and breathed out the need to tell the fucker to shove his conversations up his ass, and what else he could shove—

“Yeah, I’m up. I’ll go see if anyone’s started breakfast yet. Come with me.”

“Oh, no need,” Stolas stepped in, holding a bowl up in his hand, “Moxxie and I had a pretty good time talking while he started on the morning meal preparation after his night watch. He sent this for you.”

“Oh. What were you talking about?”

Guess the guy was really making himself at home on his ship. Fuck, Blitz would go down the worst pirate in history if his hostages felt this free to do just about anything.

“Some small talk. He was telling me that you all call yourself I.M.P., like those imps of myth that do the devil’s work. How very clever. And it stands for ‘Incredibly Majestic P—“

“Ponies, yeah.”

“—Pirates?” Stolas finished and looked questioningly at Blitz, “Why would it be ponies?”

“Because fuck Moxxie, he doesn’t know shit. And ponies are majestic, of course. Now, bring me my food over here and we’ll fucking talk.”

Blitz watched as Stolas tilted his head sideways in confusion and pushed away the rugged excuse for a blanket off. He heard a visible gulp as he stood and exaggeratedly stretched his bare upper body just for the hell of it. It was, at least, amusing to see the poised prince, the guy with a wife, apparently, blush so easily at even a hint of flirtation from Blitz.

He laughed openly as Stolas averted his wandering gaze and clamped his mouth shut just a bit too late. He pulled on the red shirt he had been wearing and grabbed the skull brooch from the table by his bed, deciding to buckle it to his belt today.

He pulled back the chair from his desk and turned it around to plant his ass down on it, gesturing to be handed his breakfast over. Stolas startled and then almost stumbled face first to the floorboard, catching himself with a yelp, in his hurry to hand the bowl over. After doing just that, and pulling his hand away before they made contact, he cleared his throat, brushed his clothes down a few times and gingerly sat on the bed, their knees just shy of brushing.

Blitz pushed down the urge to make any comment that would get the guy flustered again and just focused on stuffing his face.

“So,” Stolas started after a few seconds of watching Blitz wolf down his breakfast by spoonfuls, looking around the room instead of completing his sentence.

Blitz didn’t have much to decorate his cabin with, it was pretty much just all timber and cramped space. There was whatever he kept as souvenirs after their loots, some sketches he drew strewn about, a couple of stuffed horses stitched from patches of rags on his bed, and a few parchments with information about jobs they had completed.

“So?”

“I was thinking. All night, in fact,” that makes the two of them, “And I have decided what we can do.”

“Great,” Blitz looked up, dropping the spoon with a thunk into the bowl, “As long as it’s not another foolproof plan of yours like the one that got you here, I might actually consider it.”

“Blitz,” Stolas groaned, dropping his head into his palms at the sarcasm, “Okay, I made a mistake. But you were never supposed to be there. Striker, or whatever, was supposed to have gotten to us way earlier.”

“Yeah, well. Finders, keepers, and all.”

Blitz definitely couldn’t help the smirk as Stolas looked up at him, all baffled, that deep blush returning to his high cheeks.

“Um, ah, well,” he stuttered and Blitz let his eyes drop to the blush travelling down his neck and collarbones and he realised that Stolas had taken off that stuffy vest he had worn over his shirt last night.

Ugh, this had to be on purpose, right. Coming to his room, holding up food as an excuse to ’talk’, hasn’t said anything of value yet. And Blitz definitely knew interest when he saw it.

“You should take us to Striker.”

“What,” Blitz said, flatly, his eyes travelling back to Stolas’ now much more sober expression.

“Striker. You know who that is. You would know where to find him.”

Blitz knew Striker, alright. He didn’t know who exactly hired that snake to handle this job but how would Blitz even explain to this poor guy that he was probably lucky that they got to him before Striker did. But, if it was true that Striker was being paid for this—

“I understand that you are being put at risk every moment that we are still on your ship. I had asked Vassago to set everything up with Striker and if everything had gone accordingly, the news of our ‘deaths’ would already be travelling all over,” Stolas leant backwards on his arm, understanding in his tone, “You weren’t prepared for this, it’s unfair to ask you to take us to Lust. If you could just help me find this man, I can put my plan back in motion. And, you’ll be rid of us without any consequences.”

It made sense, out of all the shit he had said since he started chewing off Blitz’s ears last night. But, did this guy know about Striker’s deep hatred for royals? Did this Vassago guy know?

Was it even Blitz’s concern?

“Shit,” Blitz threw the empty bowl carelessly onto his desk, the clatter making Stolas jump lightly, “I guess it could work. Striker usually operates from Wrath. Once he finds out I was the one who took over his job, he’ll find me himself. Wrath is a neutral ground for all us pirate-assassins, or whatever. I could take you there, I suppose, it’s closer than Lust. You’re right.”

Stolas let out breath he seemed to be holding, relief overtaking his terse face. He smiled at Blitz dazzlingly and Blitz had to avert his eyes as a cough seized up his throat. Yeah, totally a cough.

“You have been very kind, Blitz.”

Blitz tamped down the flutter somewhere in his abdomen, “Yeah, if being pushed around is your idea of kindness.”

“You have been kinder than I ever expected. I was so scared when I realised that it was all for real last night but thank you for making sure Via was comfortable. I couldn’t ask for a better captor,” oh, Blitz was definitely not imagining that coy look sent his way through long eyelashes, “I did always say you would make a great pirate. I definitely didn’t mind being pushed around. It was…exciting.”

Yup, definitely not just imagination, the guy was clearly laying it on thick, complete with that insane choice of excessive lip-biting now.

Blitz pushed his chair back with a foot as he stood cautiously. He could be reading this very wrong, but if he wasn’t, and the guy was up for it, why not have some fun. He was going to be gone sooner or later anyways. It might even help clear off the sentiment that had lodged into his mind the whole night he had spent stewing in past memories.

Stolas followed his movements attentively with an eager gaze and a very red face as Blitz closed the short distance to stand in front of him. He stood taller now that the beanpole was slumping back on his arms even further in Blitz’s bed, his legs falling open on either side of him.

Okay, then.

He put up a daring hand to trace those cheekbones and feel the heat on them on his fingers, dragging the digits lightly further down to brush against the softness. He grabbed onto both sides of his jaw to still the way Stolas was melting into the hold. The pretty fucking eyes blinked up at him, the bitten lips falling open at the rough squeeze.

“Well, you’ve been the most convenient captive a guy could ask for. Disobedient, but we can work on it, get you better at following my orders, huh?” Blitz purred lowly at the heat pooling rapidly below his guts as Stolas swallowed and nodded very enthusiastically, his pupils dilating instantly. He fluttered his eyelids shut, swaying towards Blitz.

“Blitz, I—“

“Dad, where the fuck are you?”

Both men sprung apart with widened eyes and it would have been almost comical, but the speed at which they were brought back to reality at the irate voice was anything but funny. The voice sounded far too close for comfort to the open door to Blitz’s cabin. Fuck.

“Via, dear,” Stolas cleared his throat, pulling at the collar of his shirt and fanning himself, his voice still way too airy, “In here.”

Blitz went back to his desk and stood with his back turned as light, swift footsteps came closer to them, shutting his eyes tight and cursing whatever dumb impulse had come over him.

This was just saved from being a horrible fucking idea. Thank fuck for cockblocking kids.

“Dad, I’ve been looking all over for you since I woke up. What are you doing here? He wasn’t hurting you, was he?”

Blitz snorted at that but his mind shuttered as he looked over at the guilty expression on Stolas’ face, his eyes unable to make contact with neither Blitz or his daughter. Alright, then.

“No, Via,” Stolas smiled over at Blitz meekly, “Blitz isn’t a threat anymore. In fact, he’s decided to help us.”

“Hold on, now,” Blitz turned to the pair fully, hoping his shirt fell over his crotch enough to hide the hardness that had a mind of its own, even though Blitz’s mood was totally fucking ruined, “Don’t go promising your kid anything just yet. I haven’t smoothed out all the details about our agreement yet.”

Stolas’ kid, Octavia, looked at Blitz with narrowed squints of her lighter, but much sharper eyes, too fucking probing.

“Come on, dad. I met Loona on the way and she showed me the way to the kitchen. I’m hungry, let’s get some food.”

“Of course, dear,” Stolas let himself be pulled to his feet by his daughter, “I’m very sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”

Octavia paused in her pulling her father away from Blitz, her shoulders drooping.

“I thought something happened to you while I was asleep.”

Blitz watched Stolas wince at the same time as he did as they realised what Stolas’ absence could have looked like to Octavia who had gone to bed thinking they were in a hostile situation.

“No, no, Blitz has made me feel quite safe,” Stolas wrapped his daughter up in a hug, then pulled her towards the door, “Let me tell you all about it while we get some food. You will love Moxxie’s cooking and his anecdotes from his time in Greed.”

“Hey, I cook much better than that little freckled bitch,” what the fuck did anecdotes even mean, fancy rich people talk.

Stolas giggled at Blitz’s offended words as he led Octavia out the cabin, leaving Blitz standing alone in his room, a bit of shame creeping in at his momentary loss of control.

Blitz was the worst fucking pirate he had ever known.

Heat was settling into the wood of the ship as the sun constantly shone down on it by the time Blitz had made his way out of his cabin for the day. Dark bags under his eyes and a flush barely visible on his tan cheeks that had not gone down since he had rubbed one, okay, a couple, out after Stolas had left.

He found Millie sitting on the floor of the deck near the bow of the ship, beside whom Loona was manning the steer.

She was cleaning the blood off the axe that was definitely too heavy for someone of her stature, but one would never know the way she swung it around like it was a fucking piece of rope.

“Morning, B,” she called out, energetic as always, “Did you have a nice talk with the prince?”

Blitz groaned, pushing his hair back aggressively, cursing at the newly applied white powder dye dusting off on his face.

“What about the talk you had last night?” She grinned widely showing off the gap in her front teeth, that menace, “Moxxie said it seemed like he was getting real cozy with you.”

Blitz heard Loona huff from her position and made his way to her, taking the wheel in place of her as she moved away from it. He wasn’t going to respond to any of that.

“We’re setting course for Wrath.”

“Wrath? What for?” Loona asked, not particularly interested in knowing as she leant over a railing.

“To sell off the royals?” Millie had a challenging gleam in her eyes as she paused in her cleaning.

That got his daughter’s attention.

“Blitz,” Loona gritted her teeth, fists clenching, “You can’t. That’s a kid.”

“No!” Blitz backed away, ready to run in case Loona decided to break off whatever parts of him she could grab, “No, look, Stolas and I worked something out. Remember that he had someone pay Striker to do this job? He asked me to take him to Striker.”

“Striker?” Millie’s doe eyes widened in surprise, “Blitz, you can’t even stand that asshole. You want to strike a deal with him for these people? What did Princey whisper into your ears, huh?”

“Nothing, Mills,” Blitz raised his voice in warning, “I’m not putting any of you in danger. It’s best to get rid of them. They can go ahead with whatever shitty plan they had and we can guarantee our safety.”

“Even if it means making good with Striker?” Millie was still in disbelief.

“Even if it means making good with Striker.”

“Where are our precious hostages anyways?” Loona looked around over the deck, “Last I checked, you forgot to lock them back in after you had your talk with the guy. Octavia came wandering around in search of her missing father, asking me what we had done with him. While holding back tears.”

Blitz shrunk away from Loona’s raised eyebrow, “Fuck, look, I was tired. And I found out that I knew the guy from when I was a kid. They are with Moxxie in the kitchen, I think.”

“Wait, wait, what?” Millie exclaimed, shaking her head, fully discarding her hold on the axe and making it drop heavily beside her. She leaned forwards on her hand, a child having gotten hold of candy, a cat having found her prey, probably the latter, “You knew each other as kids. Were you catching up last night, then? How did you know him? How long did you know him? How did you stop knowing him? Were you each other’s childhood crushes? Is that why he was checking you out so much yesterday?”

“Ugh, gross, I don’t want to hear this,” Loona mimed gagging, rolling her eyes, “I’ll go find them. See if I can put them to work.”

Blitz almost followed her, steering be damned, because that was a good idea. Definitely not because he wanted to get away from Millie.

He looked at the excitement buzzing through her, “Wrath, Mills. Set the fucking sails. No more questions.”

“You could fuck him before you get rid of him. He wasn’t the only one doing the checking out, did you think your bestest friend wouldn’t notice?”

“No, Millie. I’m serious. No more talk about this.”

Millie looked taken aback at how serious Blitz did sound. Probably a departure from how Blitz actually acted when he found someone attractive. But, yeah, this was out of question. Blitz was not fucking a prince. He was not going to play into the fucker’s fantasy of being captured and dicked down by the lower class, or whatever was going on in that dumb repressed head.

“Alright, Blitz,” Millie tried to catch his eyes, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, peachy, Mills,” Blitz turned back to his steering, “Now go find your whore of a husband and let him know our plans.”

Chapter Text

Blitz had been avoiding him.

As much as one can avoid someone while stuck on an inescapable floating piece of wood attributing to the entire stretch of water all around as far as eyes could see. But, he’s been trying enough for Stolas to pick up hints.

Ever since…whatever that moment was. That moment in the low lit quarters with Blitz’s face encircled by the early morning light, Stolas still sighed dreamily whenever that image popped up in his mind. So, yes, Stolas definitely hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that.

His first ever friend, his only friend for a long time whom he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about as he grew up, wanting him?

But, Blitz had definitely not brought it up again since then so Stolas had no clue what he was supposed to think.

He tried looking for chances to interact with him, tried bringing him his meals to his room as an excuse, secretly hoping for a repeat of the moment. But Blitz had apparently informed his crew to not let Stolas do that if they were on meal duty after the first two times. Trying not to be discouraged by the way Blitz snatched his food and shut the door on his face, he had tried then to talk to him whenever he was out on the main deck, but was only met with curt answers and even more curt ‘why don’t you learn to be of some use around the ship, bitch’.

Stolas relented, backed off, because okay, then. He didn’t need to force his annoying company around another person who could hardly tolerate him. Stolas knew Blitz had only been nice because of Octavia, he was just a fool who thought maybe, maybe, some of it could have been for him. But, he didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve whatever little Blitz had agreed to in the first place, already going beyond what he needed to do for them.

Stolas just decided to focus on talking things through with Octavia for the time being. Sitting her down and letting her know what they had agreed on, what he had decided to do, fully this time so she wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

For the most part, in the days since they had started setting sail for Wrath, Stolas had been enjoying his time on the ship, with the I.M.P.

Moxxie had been easily amicable and Stolas learnt that he was quite well read as well, almost always being the one to read the maps and write up their documents for clients, although his face darkened whenever he talked about growing up in Greed.

Millie had been a bit more stand-offish with him for the first couple of days but still quite kind in explaining to him the manual workings of a ship whenever they found themselves in each other’s presence. She had also, quite straightforwardly, pointed out that he would have to pull his weight around the ship to make up for the extra mouths they were feeding until they reached Wrath. Then, she had also been the one washing his palms with cold water when he flayed the skin on them trying to tie knots while barely being able to pull and hold a minor sail in place.

She had suggested to him to just find Moxxie and help him with whatever paperwork he was buried under, exhaling audibly in relief when he got out of her way as she set everything right again. He had to also get used to the violent tendencies of the couple, but it had made his heart full in a sense to watch them playfully sparring with each other.

What definitely did warm Stolas’ heart without a doubt was the way Octavia had taken to trailing after Loona, Blitz’s daughter as Via informed him, and he could definitely see the similarities in how they both grumpily entertained the reserved younger girl. Who suddenly seemed to have found a burst of energy unlike anything Stolas had seen from her in the past few years, chattering with gesticulating hands a mile a minute, hopping and spinning around the deck as she did so. The older girl was always indulging her, responding just as enthusiastically it seemed.

Today, they had decided to practice sparring with each other under Loona’s guidance and Stolas had to stop himself from rushing forward as the blunt wooden ‘sword’ they had chosen came swinging too close to one of Octavia’s eyes but his daughter just let out a hoot of laughter, clapping excitedly at Loona’s move.

Stolas had to remind himself that it was alright as long as Via had fun. He had been forced into fencing lessons as a teenager himself, another set of skills a prince was apparently supposed to have. But Stolas himself had always been a very non-combative person, always more pacifistic in approach. Another thing he failed as a prince at, he supposed.

“They’re getting along, huh?” Stolas startled from his thoughts at the deeper voice suddenly close behind him.

He turned his neck to the side from where he had been sitting with his knees pulled up, watching as Blitz came to stand by his side, a sparkle in his eyes as he stared at their daughters. Who were now engaged in a contest of trying to push each other back, their swords locked, Octavia clearly having to exert a lot more strength than Loona who was holding a casual stance.

Shaking off his surprise at the other man initiating a conversation by himself, Stolas beamed widely, tilting his head to rest it on a shoulder, “Yes, Octavia never had been good at making friends. Even at the parties that she was made to attend she stayed away from the other noble children, always complaining about how they were too stuck up for her. How they would look oddly at her whenever she tried to share her interests in taxidermy.”

“Is that when you stuff a dead animal and display its corpse as decoration?”

Stolas huffed in exasperation but nodded. Yes, he wasn’t very inclined towards it either, but it was nice to see her talk so animatedly about it.

“Your daughter has a taxidermy hobby?” Blitz came to stand beside him, his arms crossed across his chest, his breeches brushing the side of Stolas’ resting head, “Guess she isn’t all that different from you. You were obsessed with some weird shit as a kid too.”

Stolas blinked, his heart fluttering and his breath catching in his chest at Blitz bringing up their time as kids, and sounding fond at that.

“They weren’t weird,” he tried to sound snarky but it came out a soft whisper, “What’s weird about being interested in herbology and herbal medicine as a ten year old?”

“You did not just ask me that. The fuck is herbology, anyways,” Blitz ignored Stolas’ brief noise of protest, “At least I got you interested in pirates. That was a cool kid thing.”

Stolas couldn’t help but roll his eyes, humming to himself. In front of them, Loona was now correcting Octavia’s posture and her grip on the sword, demonstrating the way to swing it with utmost force. Enough to take a head off cleanly and Via giggled in delight as Loona described a time when she had done just that, and Stolas just resigned himself to the fact that his daughter absolutely didn’t share his aversion to violence.

He sat in the silence between him and Blitz, the chatter of their girls filling it up, moving his head to lay it on his arms clasped over bent knees. For a bizarre moment, he felt like they could just stay here like this. He had never felt so…free in his life, never seen his daughter so comfortably joyful.

“Yes, I always thought you were very cool. Ever since I saw you on that trapeze at the circus.”

Stolas heard a sharp inhale beside him followed by the clearing of a throat.

“We’ll be docking up in Wrath by mid day, day after tomorrow. Just came here to let you know that.”

And there it was. Stolas had to stop day dreaming. He had asked for that anyways.

“Okay, Blitz. Thank you for doing this. I would say I owe you but I don’t think I’m going to own anything once I see this through.”

“Yeah, whatever, as long as you guarantee my crew’s safety.”

Yes, there it was. This was just a transaction for Blitz. That he had been thrown into because he wasn’t aware it was a prince and his heir that he had attacked.

Stolas sighed tiredly as he heard footsteps stomping away from him, a cold breeze settling into his side.

The night before they were to dock at Wrath, they all came together for dinner for the last time. No invitations, no big show of gathering everyone, just the whole bunch turning up at the wobbly table in the small kitchen cabin as they smelled the stew and taking their seats without any need to address it.

Stolas pushed his spoon around, having the occasional bite, and quietly took in everything from where he sat at the opposite end of the table from Blitz.

Loona making harsh jabs at Moxxie as usual, Stolas not having figured out yet if they were playful or not; Millie coming to his defence with a knife stabbed into the worn surface of the table, making the whole thing quake; Octavia sniggering at all the following insults being thrown around; her and Loona teaming up and calling the rest of them old; Blitz jokingly threatening to ransom her off for a good price to make up for all the dent in their food supply she alone had caused; his daughter spluttering, red-faced, and looking towards him to come defend her, the eyes she had taken to line all over like Loona widened in offence.

Blitz raising one thick, dark eyebrow in challenge then, toying with a knife, turning it over and over between the fingers of a hand bringing Stolas’ focus to it until the scarred man howled in pain, jumping in his chair, as Loona kicked him under the table and Octavia’s loud, loud laughter at that. She would never laugh that loudly or freely in the palace. It was unbecoming of a Goetia, they had been told.

Stolas felt a heaviness settle in his chest, a pebble however small, always capable of breaking through the surface of the stillest lakes, sinking to their depths, and he could barely form a response to be a participant in any of it.

He had to say something to Blitz. He couldn’t just leave like this.

The urge to do that strengthened into something impossible to ignore as they went back to their chambers for the night, Loona heading towards the deck for her night guard duty, and his daughter turned to him with a silent plea in her downcast eyes as he closed the door behind them.

“Octavia.” Please just go to sleep.

“Can’t we just stay with them?”

Fuck.

“You know we can’t, Starfire. It’s not fair to them, we were never supposed to be here.”

“I like it here.”

Stolas went to burrow into the makeshift bed he had created for himself beside the cot, just a bunch of blankets piled together to stop the cold seeping through the floor, “You like Loona.” You just need a friend.

“Not just Loona,” Octavia was still standing by the door, her body slumping against it, “I like…like dumbass Moxxie with his dumbass rants about the plays he watches while they dock at any city, like how cool Millie is, especially when she handles the sail ropes like she’s needling a thread when I almost got pulled overboard trying it. A fucking badass, as Loona calls her.”

“Via, langua—“

“I like Blitz too,” his daughter admitted, kicking at some invisible object in front of her, “He’s cool. Funny. He knows how to protect his crew. He would protect us, too. You would just need to ask.”

Stolas sat on the blankets, his head in his hands, “They’re pirates, Via. They injured the crew on our ship badly the first night, remember? They live a life of violence, even if we haven’t had to see it yet. I cannot let you do that.”

“Then you’re also another adult just deciding my life for me, aren’t you?”

“Via, Starfire,” Stolas snapped his head up at the tone aimed at him, voice shaky as horror gripped him whole. No, no, he couldn’t—he was only trying to—

“No, you know what,” Octavia smiled apologetically, “I’m sorry, dad. I know you’ve been trying to do what’s best for me. I would just…miss this. It’s been nice,” she walked over to her bed, “Anyways, goodnight, dad. I’ll get some rest. Long day ahead.”

Stolas nodded, gulping, relief not yet settling within him, “Have a good night, Octavia.”

Stolas sat with a blanket wrapped around him, holding onto it in the darkness for a good few minutes even as his daughter’s breathing evened out under the thin covers.

He would protect us too. Would he?

You would just need to ask. Should...should he?

Stolas felt his body move before his mind could catch up.

He slipped out of their room, making sure to tip toe noiselessly, having had enough practice around his palace for that. He headed single-mindedly towards where he knew Blitz’s room was.

He stood in front of the decaying door, fixated on the small colony of mold and moss growing into the top corner of it and the sounds of muttering and cursing going on behind it. He should knock. What would he even say?

Oh, Blitz, please just take me and my daughter in and let us travel along with I.M.P. for the rest of our lives. Consider it, Blitz, even if it means you would have to keep looking over your shoulder constantly for not just any law enforcers but probably even a royal army.

Stolas scoffed, the sound haltingly loud in the calm night. He froze, debating just going back to his room, as he heard the familiar clip-clop of footsteps made by Blitz’s boots coming towards the door.

His feet refused to move and soon, the door opened to reveal that still just as handsome as when he had seen it at dinner face come into view, scowling up at him. His features looked darker, sharper in the low light and Stolas felt any words he could have spilled out catch on his tongue.

“Don’t tell me you suddenly came to your senses and felt the urge to strangle me to death in my bed after all these days.”

And, Stolas definitely wasn’t imagining a whole different scenario involving a bed and some strangling, he absolutely was not.

“Can I come in?” He asked, instead.

Stolas saw the flicker of hesitation in Blitz’s eyes. Maybe he was pushing too far, maybe he should just apologise for disturbing him and leave.

“What for?”

Stolas swallowed at the assessing tone. That wasn’t a no. Maybe it was. Blitz did also sound a bit irritated.

“I—the things you brought along when you attacked our ship.”

Blitz quirked a brow, frowning, “You mean the shit you asked me to carry around like your personal butler.”

Stolas winced, “Yes. You see, I had taken them from my palace before I left, hoping to sell them off when I found a place to settle with Via. My Grimoire is also in there.”

“Right. That fancy book of yours. Was wondering where I knew it from,” Stolas watched Blitz pick at his nails, leaning against the doorway, “Well, books are not much use to me but why would I give you back your stuff. Maybe I’ll take them as compensation for having to stow your asses as long as I did.”

Stolas fumbled trying to come up with a retort but stopped as Blitz chuckled in his face, waving his ungloved hand.

“I’m just joking, birdie. Won’t do that to your kid. Just come inside and take whatever you need.”

Whatever—

Stolas couldn’t help his gaze wandering by itself as Blitz opened the door some more, gawking at the exposed skin where Blitz had unbuttoned the top of his shirt for the night. He was mortified at realising what he was doing, his face heating up. Again. Could someone die from too frequent blood overflow to their heads like this, Stolas really hoped he wouldn’t have to find out himself.

He walked past Blitz into the room, keeping his eyes consciously diverted but jumping at the sound of Blitz closing the door behind him.

“Well? What’re you waiting for? Shit’s beside my desk.”

Blitz walked by Stolas, too close in the small space, his arm brushing against his side and Stolas shivered despite it being a warmer night. He walked over to Blitz’s desk and bent to pick up the sacks still full with his and Octavia’s belongings.

“You didn’t say anything about your daughter asking for it back but I still didn’t touch her things. Went through your stuff though,” Stolas looked over and right into Blitz’s much more intense stare as he ran his eyes over him, “Some pricey things you got there, you should consider yourself lucky you came across me and not someone who’d slit your throat immediately over them.”

Stolas tensed, his eyes moving to the small window over the desk.

“Got everything, then?” Stolas swung around on his feet as Blitz yawned and stretched languidly, sitting back further up in his bed, “Shut the door on your way out, will you? I need to get some sleep.”

“Did I…do something wrong?”

Blitz paused in arranging his pillow, “The fuck?”

“You have been avoiding me since that day. I didn’t…mean to make you uncomfortable. I apologise if it was too forward of me. I just can’t leave tomorrow without saying goodbye properly to my friend.”

Blitz was too quiet and Stolas realised why as he moved his eyes towards him. Blitz was staring daggers straight through his head.

“Then say goodbye. And leave. You’re more trouble than you’ve been worth.”

Stolas felt that heaviness from dinner travel right to his eyes at that. How many times in his life has he had to hear something similar from so many people. Maybe there was truth in that.

“Don’t make a big deal out of shit,” Blitz scoffed, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back on his pillow, “You’re just a pretty face and my dick was interested. Your father bought me for you to use as a friend that day when we were kids and now you’re using me to get you to Wrath. That’s all this has ever been. Get your tall head out of those clouds it gets stuck in.”

Stolas clutched his Grimoire to his chest, his tears leaking out despite his embarrassment at the action. Of course he knew Blitz thought that way, of course he knew what was going on, it was still difficult being rational in the face of such words being spat at him by the first person who had been kind to him after a long, long time, however begrudgingly.

“You’re right,” Stolas sniffled, his head dropping to his chest, his form shrinking in on itself instinctually, “Yes, yes, you’re right. I apologise for bothering you, Blitz. Goodnight.”

Stolas heard a sigh from behind as he gathered up the bundles with both arms and scuttled over to the door.

“Here, catch,” Stolas turned just in time for a novel to land softly over the bundles, the same one he had been reading on the ship before all this, with the vigilante and the princess, “Your dumb romance fantasies. How do you read this shit?”

Stolas didn’t bother gracing that with an answer as he left Blitz’s presence as quickly as his body had wanted to be near it just a few very different moments ago.

“Good morning, Stolas!” Stolas couldn’t hold back the small smile at Millie’s always so uncontainable energy from the the very beginning of day. He made his way out towards her, shoulders slumped forward, eyes puffy and red from having sobbed silently almost the whole time before he fell asleep.

“You ready for today?”

Stolas looked out over her deceptively narrow shoulders, which stood almost at half his height, at the expanse of land coming into view on the horizon.

Wrath he had heard about and been to exactly once before during his teenage years during something called a Harvest Moon Festival celebrated by the locals, when another attending royal had an assassination attempted on them. He knew it was mostly farmlands and countryside there, the people simple in their living and their displeasure for anyone flaunting their wealth alike.

Stolas looked down at his clothes, the same ones he had been wearing when he had come onto this ship, wondering if he would stand out too much in them. They had been washed and were slightly faded in their shade after Millie had shown him how they wash their own clothes while onboard, while they let him and Via borrow whatever clothes fit from them for the time between. Stolas had failed miserably at the seemingly simple task of roughly rubbing and kneading the fabrics with soap and bare hands, dumping them in a bucket of water to soak and wringing them out dry. How was he going to take care of both of them when they started living alone? Stolas suddenly felt way out of his depth.

“I suppose, Millie,” Stolas took the hand she offered towards him and held it between his own, “Thank you so much for whatever you have done for us. You and Moxxie both. I’ll always remember this. I am sorry for,” being more trouble than I was worth, “being such a burden.”

Millie stared suspiciously, “Burden? Are you okay, Stolas? Where’s this talk coming from? You know we had to get used to it but you two were so delightful the whole time. Best first hostages of our life!”

Millie pulled her hand away gently and leaned back on the railing, craning her neck up at Moxxie on his perch on the mast as he looked through his telescope.

“Moxxie especially loved having you to talk to,” she smiled sadly, “He doesn’t talk about it much but when he left Greed with Blitz a few years ago, it had been a horrible time for him. He wasn’t as wealthy as a royal but he was still from a rich family, not that he mentions any of them. It took him a while to adjust. I know life on a boat with people from more…unrefined lives who don’t really get his obsession with the plays and theatre and his music can be hard for him sometimes,” she chuckled, not at all self-deprecatory but like she was just stating a fact, “I try to support him but he loved it when he found that in common with you, couldn’t stop telling me about your conversations.”

Stolas just had never learned to swallow back his tears, had he. He should probably start after this, just after this time.

“And I know my mum and siblings would have been so fucking charmed by both you and the little princess if you could have come to meet them when we dock.”

Stolas blinked back his tears as Millie grinned at him, “You’re from Wrath?”

“Yeah, my whole family’s there. We might plan to stop there for a couple of days after we drop you off. They own a small tavern just outside the main town, and a ranch just a few miles from there. I was supposed to take over, but I just decided this assassin business was much better suited for me.”

Stolas laughed nervously at the casual way the short woman was both the sweetest sometimes and the most terrifying person he had met in his life.

Loona and Octavia walked by them, their heads together, and he could make out some awkward, stilted words about Octavia asking Loona to keep something for her, some very strained goodbyes, and Stolas’ face twisted in pain. Fuck, this would hurt the most. Taking Octavia away from someone she had come to admire so much. They both turned their heads together, staring him down as if they felt his eyes following them. He evaded their stares and watched them both have a silent conversation with just pointed looks.

He averted his gaze even further, swivelling around to look down on the waves that seemed to be getting smaller, as Blitz joined them on the main deck as well. There didn’t seem much different about him, he didn’t look like the one who had been rolling around hurtful words in his mind all night. He would continue to avoid looking at Stolas, he wouldn’t talk to him, he would insult Moxxie before yelling orders at the poor man.

Fine, whatever, Stolas was not interested in talking to him much either.

“Don’t let…whatever Blitz might have said get to you,” Millie whispered from beside him, her brown eyes on her friend’s guarded stance, “He talks out of his ass, sometimes. He’s always like that when he has to let go of something he wants to keep.”

Stolas felt too tired to even know what that meant, he didn’t care what Millie thought Blitz said to him or why. There was truth in it, Blitz didn’t want him there.

“We’re not some ‘things’, Millie.”

“Of course you’re also too dumb to understand what exactly I mean,” Stolas was going to ignore that, “Is that why you called yourself a burden despite making yourself very at ease here the past few days? Because of what he said?”

“It’s alright, it doesn’t matter,” Stolas then glared at her, playfully, “What do you mean made myself at ease? I thought we were delightful.”

Millie let out a shriek of laughter, elbowing him in his side. Not very hard but since he had always been so gangly, he was sure he would develop an elbow-shaped bruise on his ribs. He couldn’t stop his giggles though.

“Millie!” They both startled at the shout from Blitz who had been glowering at their antics, “Are we prepared to dock or are you just going to stand around uselessly like some people here?”

Stolas watched Millie’s shoulders rise as she opened her mouth to argue back but he shook his head at her, “Please. Just go do your shit. I’m fine, I assure you.”

The woman puffed her round cheeks sulkily, flipping her short, dark hair, thick textured and slightly tangled, back from her face. She made her way to Blitz, immediately hissing something furiously at him.

Stolas paid them no heed, staring out at the mostly flat island he could make out more prominently as it kept growing closer in his range of vision.

Chapter Text

Only a few hours later, the sun was high and sweltering in the sky and Stolas and Octavia were standing with their belongings slung around their backs near the plank that would be dropped on the harbour.

He tried not to stare as Octavia fell into Loona’s open arms to hug her tightly, the blonde girl mumbling something in comfort. Instead his eyes made their way towards Blitz who was frowning at the pair, his black locks glistening in the sunlight. Their eyes met and Stolas saw a glimpse of what looked like regret in them before he glared it away with a tch.

“Are you sure you want to do this alone, dad?” Loona asked Blitz, and that was the first time Stolas had heard her call him that. It took Blitz by surprise too, it seemed, “What if he decides to jump you?”

“I’ll be fine. I won’t start fights but I’m not letting Striker near you all,” Blitz replied with finality, no room for arguments, “I’ll just take them to him and then meet up with you at Millie’s family’s tavern.”

“Just be careful.”

If even the normally aloof girl was scared for her father’s safety, Stolas wondered just who this Striker was and how did Vassago come to know of him. He had assumed the man wouldn’t knowingly try to hire someone who would try to pose an actual danger to them. He already felt a bit off kilter at the revelation that Striker was an assassin but to also be one that even Blitz and his crew were wary of, Stolas just hoped he wasn’t making another mistake.

Stolas came back to himself as Octavia stepped up to him and pulled on his sleeve. He put as much gratitude in the smile he turned onto Loona, “Thank you for taking care of Via all this time, Loona. You’ve been so very kind.”

Loona crossed her arms, flipping her hair forwards to cover whatever glassiness had sprung up over her blue eyes, and moved away to the side with a “Whatever”, grumbling something about “Fucking mushy, rich assholes.”

“Alright, all tearful goodbyes done?” Blitz walked past them, sneering, “Now get your asses moving.”

“You’re an ass,” Stolas looked disapprovingly at Octavia’s muttered remark by reflex alone, even if he did agree a bit with that sentiment. He waved a hand in farewell at Moxxie who was being squeezed around the middle by his wife, his eyes comically wide and watery.

Stolas turned around and followed the two figures in front of him.

He tried not to let his stare linger too long on anything and anyone as they made their way through the town, people already in full swing at their work. He tried to keep his head and ‘birdie’ eyes lowered as commanded by Blitz so the locals wouldn’t get too curious at the ogling. Tried being the word.

He couldn’t stop swivelling his neck around at all the people chatting and smoking outside stalls and small shops, vendors calling out their goods as they passed by the markets, families and couples walking by him, openly affectionate here and grumpily pulling each other along there, even some lone people walking with purpose towards a destination, no company at their side to make them prolong their venture.

Stolas retreated back into his thoughts, imagining if he ever could build a life like this for Via.

He tried to mimic the easy confidence Blitz walked with through the hustle and bustle, cursing openly at people if they stumbled too close, sending exaggerated winks at a few giggling women standing outside a parlour, mumbling to himself about stocking up their ship while there. He had no doubts that he failed at it, giving up not even halfway through with Octavia glued to his side but equally as fascinated at everything around her. Lords, they have both been so sheltered.

Sooner than he hoped for, and he hoped he could just believe the three of them were just another of the people out for a day in town, Blitz stopped in front of a narrow alleyway. Not narrow enough that they couldn’t make it through, but extremely suggestive of a place that was not frequented by most common folk.

“Look,” Blitz scratched lightly at the scar near his right eyes then pushed back the hair on his forehead, revealing his tattoo, “Look, I know I said some shitty stuff yesterday. You didn’t deserve it, okay?”

Stolas blinked at the sudden attempt at a not quite apology that he absolutely wasn’t expecting. Octavia turned her head from where she had been peeking into the alley and growled at Blitz, baring her teeth.

Blitz held his palms up in defence, muttering about Loona imprinting on the kid.

Stolas didn’t really want this to go on any longer, he could hear raucous laughter from the alley, so he just replied simply with an, “Okay.”

“I mean it. I just—anyways. Look, I don’t know how much you trust the guy that made a deal with Striker of all people. But just…be careful, okay? He’s a bad apple, even by our standards. But he’s efficient. Resourceful. I get why he would be considered the best choice by someone who’s never met him.”

So, he did care. In his own fucked up way. Stolas didn’t know Blitz’s story anyways. From the time they had been kids to now, Blitz had changed a lot, not even withstanding the scars. There was no trace of that playful kid with big enough dreams he so passionately talked about, that Stolas had admired long after he had walked out of the palace that day, for years even. He must have gotten hurt badly by something.

But not like Stolas had any more chances to get to know him.

“Okay, Blitz,” he repeated as softly as he could, too much anticipation and the beginnings of fear thrumming through him, “Thank you, again. Stay well and safe, all of you.”

Blitz swallowed and nodded in acceptance, fists curled at his side. He turned to look at Octavia, standing at the same height as him, even more so with her squared shoulders, “You too, sweetie. Take care of yourself and grow into the badass you already are showing signs of becoming. Remember, your dad can be an idiot sometimes.”

Octavia flustered at that, her hand moving to her chest as if by instinct before she lowered it consciously and nodded at Blitz. Stolas ignored the jab at him, something that was becoming habit pretty quickly, resigned to the fact that his daughter was gaining another swear word in her vocabulary.

“Take care of your daughter, Stolas,” and that was the first time Blitz had said his name so seriously, “Be careful…whatever you choose to do.”

Stolas felt his throat seize up in a very familiar way but no, he would not start sobbing again at the last moment.

“Alright, come on then,” Blitz shouldered his way into the alley without another word.

They walked silently until they reached the front of a worn down tavern, a board with a pair of striped horns crudely carved into it, and nothing else, hanging crookedly outside over the entrance. Two people who had been conversing amongst themselves by the swinging door glanced over Blitz then stopped to leer at Stolas, looking him over, and laughed mockingly at Octavia who hid herself behind him.

“New loot, Blitzo?” The woman laughed, blowing smoke in their direction.

“Fuck off, bitch,” Blitz spat as he pushed them aside, turning to Stolas and dragging him by his arm in front, Octavia following behind, as he made his way inside.

Stolas knew this time the rough handling was definitely for show. But he stopped short as they were pushed to the side and Blitz walked up front, a rigidness in his whole spine that Stolas hadn’t seen before.

They were met with the sight of a man sitting sideways blocking their path, leaning back on the hind-legs of a chair, his booted feet up on the table in front of him. A cowboy hat lay over his face but his grin, shark-like, was visible under it.

“Ah, so the rumours were true then,” Stolas felt a shiver run down his spine as the gruff, menacing voice coming from the man, no sign of the kind of light-heartedness that Stolas had been surrounded with on Blitz’s ship. Everyone in the tavern seemed to be holding their breaths, their hands moving towards various weapons.

Stolas maybe had made a mistake.

Could they just walk back out and hightail it back to the ship or something?

“Imagine my surprise when my crew told me about the people on aboard the Goetian vessel I had been paid to attack describe the likeness of you and your team getting there first. This is why you don’t leave survivors, Blitzo.”

“Oh, fuck off, the o is fucking silent. How many times do I have to tell you bitches that,” Blitz put his hands on his hips, displaying annoyance, but Stolas and everyone in there knew he was resting his hands closer to his pistol, “And I don’t need you telling me how to do my job. Here I am, handing you over the loot you had been paid for.”

“This easily?” Striker sat up, adjusting his jacket, pulling his hat away. His feet landed on the floor, going wide as he leaned down on his elbows resting them on his spread knees. The cruel smile and the sinister look in his light eyes was definitely not helping put either of the royal pair or even Blitz at ease, “So you do know who they are.”

“Yeah, and I’m trying to get my hands clean off them. You got paid for this, you can handle the rest of it. I already took care of the hard part for you. Consider it a favour. Take them, work out whatever shit you have been ordered to and we part on good terms today, that sound alright?” Blitz was putting on some kind of bravado, Stolas probably was just imagining the slight tremble in his voice.

“Ordered to, huh?” Striker’s voice came out growlier, if possible, “I have been ordered to do shit alright. I can’t thank you enough, of course, Blitzo. You can leave them here and fuck right off. Don’t think I’m not pissed at you trying to show me up again.”

Blitz sighed, his hand still on the pistol strapped to his belt and Stolas could see the conflict in his body language between deciding to just leave or putting a bullet through the guy’s face.

He tried to subtly catch his friend’s attention through eye contact, nodding reassuringly when he looked up at him. He relaxed his stance at that and backed away from where he had moved to stand in front of the pair during the conversation.

“Don’t worry about these royal birdies,” Striker looked straight at Stolas with a smirk, “They’re in good hands. Someone see to it that our friend here is escorted out from here.”

Stolas watched, his mind going blank, as Blitz was flanked on both sides by much bigger, muscular people as he sighed again. He left with them, a look sent their way that lingered for a moment longer on Octavia as he gestured something subtly at her with his eyes.

“Well now, your Highness,” Stolas turned away from his friend walking away from them as his attention caught up with Striker walking up to him, almost the same height as Blitz but just way more imposing in the way he sneered at him, cracking his knuckles, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Stolas had made a huge fucking mistake.

“Dad!”

Octavia ran and leaned over her father as Stolas was thrown into the bare room after her, her palm hovering above his bent over form. They had been taken into a run down building right next to the tavern, down a corridor with hauntingly empty rooms lined with bricks and metal bars as doors, like it was a prison.

Stolas had to inwardly laugh at the drama of it all, coughing out the trickle of blood at the back of his throat, making it leak out at the corner of his lips joining with the fresh gush of the thick liquid from his nose. He clutched at his ribs at the pain the coughing brought up, keeping himself up with a hand on the cold floor. His face hurt in very many different spots, his nose throbbed at the touch of the damp and dusty air of the room and breathing through his mouth caused pain to flare up in his abdomen and the left side of his lower ribs.

Fuck, he’s gonna be covered in bruises.

“Paid me, huh?” Striker strolled into the dark room, his boots thumping on the stone ground. Stolas pushed himself up at that and turned to face him, pushing Via out of sight behind him.

“You royal fucks think you can just pay us to do your bidding?”

“Then why the fuck did you accept?” And yeah, Stolas definitely saw that kick to his stomach coming, making him keel over and drop to the floor on his knees.

“Because a Goetian fucking prince was being dropped into my hands just like that. And you wanted me to stage your deaths too, hah,” Striker let out a hearty laugh as he grabbed Stolas’ jaw, making him let out an embarrassing whine but fuck, his nose was already broken, he couldn’t afford his jaw too, “I’ll make sure the news of your deaths spread far and wide alright. I’ll take my time, too. And with so many witnesses that dumb wannabe left behind on your ship, I can just blame it all on that clown. Two birds with one fucking stone,” Striker looked at Octavia then, who had retreated to the back, her nails digging into the wall, “Or maybe it will be three?”

Stolas pushed the guy away with whatever strength he could muster with his anger alone, “Don’t you dare touch my daughter, asshole.”

“Oh, big talk,” Striker picked up Stolas by his collar, almost ripping it with the force with which he threw him against a wall to the side, “I’ll have a lot of fun breaking you.”

Striker spit to his side as he smirked at Octavia glaring daggers his way and left the room, shutting the metal bars behind him and securing it with a padded lock.

“Guard the entrance to the building,” he ordered the two henchmen who had followed him, “Not like these soft-bellied assholes could do much but whine anyway.”

With that, the pair of them were left in silence broken by Stolas’ occasional grunts of pain, which were maybe becoming not that occasional.

“You just keep coming up with amazing plans, don’t you?” Octavia’s voice broke through the fog in Stolas’ mind, much calmer than he had expected, “This is the guy you had trusted?”

“Not now, Via,” Stolas went to where she stood, opposite the door and slunk down against the wall with her assistance, some kind of wetness seeping into the back of his clothes that he didn’t even want to think about, “Let me stew in the misery caused by my own stupidity for at least a few more moments.”

How were they even going to get out of this situation?

“Yes, now,” Octavia grumbled, “Ugh. I can’t believe Blitz was right.”

“What?” Stolas watched through half-shut, swollen eyes as Octavia reached within her shirt to bring out a sheathed dagger and a pair of small tools he didn’t recognise, “Who gave you those? Blitz?”

“Yeah, this morning,” she said, shrugging, picking up the tools to her eye level, deep in consideration, “He was telling me about the time long ago when he had pissed off Striker and was beaten and thrown into one of these rooms. He also described in detail the timing we have to get right and the escape route so as to not be noticed. He was teaching me to pick locks a few days ago. Gave me these as a ‘gift’.”

“Via,” Stolas gasped, a little proud and a little scandalised at his daughter, who was still officially a princess, picking up these activities, “Can you do it?”

“I will try,” she replied, throwing the dagger lightly beside Stolas, “I’m not very good at it but Blitz said it would work if I just take my time. He had warned me not to trust Striker in any way but that you seemed to have your mind made up and will only see sense when it hits you in the face.”

“Yes, yes,” if Stolas did manage to meet Blitz again, he had some very choice words for him, “I got hit in the face. I was an idiot, blindly believing I could trust anyone if I paid them. I’m still very much in pain, dear, have some mercy on your father.”

“Ugh,” Octavia rolled her eyes, smiling, “You’ll live. We’ll get out of here and get you patched up. How did you not think about sneaking a weapon with you?”

“I was relying on my very adequate brainpower, of course,” Stolas coughed again, wincing at the fresh pain at his side, but thankfully no more fresh blood came out through his nose, “Listen, Via, I am sorry, you know? For always being so…inadequate.”

“Stop it, dad, it’s okay,” Octavia held both tools in her hand tightly as she looked over her shoulders at him, “I didn’t fully realise the burden you had taken on when you decided to do this. Maybe someday you’ll tell me why you couldn’t have just stood up to mother and the family and called it off.”

“Octavia, it’s,” Stolas crumbled, the saltiness of his tears stinging at his nose, and he tried to wipe them away only to cry out in pain as he just ended up bumping the back of his palm against the bruised nose, “It’s not…”

“What?” His daughter turned towards him, her darkly lined eyes boring into him, unobscured by the hair she had wrapped up tightly in a bun that morning, “It’s not? Has to be some other shit you’re hiding from me because it’s definitely not the fact that you like men, I already knew that.”

“Via, dear!” Stolas exclaimed, holding his sides at the surprised laughter that escaped him as his daughter let out a cackle, “How would you even—you know what, I don’t want to know.”

“Come on, dad,” she rolled her eyes, as if it was obvious, “But I told you, didn’t I? Blitz would have protected us if you had just talked to him. He just kept telling me you seemed to have your ‘shit figured out’ whenever I asked.”

Oh fuck. Stolas had absolutely been an idiot. He went to Blitz and he made it look like all he cared about was getting back his belongings from him, which probably told Blitz that Stolas had definitely made up his mind to leave. The belongings that were now in the tavern beside, somewhere, probably already being sold.

“Via, my Grimoire,” Stolas blinked, feeling selfish at what he was about to ask, “Just that. I have to get it—“

“I snuck it out of the sack. Gave it to Loona this morning. I knew it was important to you and it would be safe with them.”

“Oh, my sweet, fucking precious Starfire,” Stolas smiled endearingly at Octavia’s chuckle at his cursing, “I must not be that much of an idiot if I decided to bring you with me.”

“Yeah, yeah, we can hug later. We got a jailbreak to attempt now. Catch your breath, dad. You’ll need it in a few hours.”

A few hours apparently meant that it was gambling time at the tavern, late in the evening.

Stolas was aching all over, tired, and his throat begged for some water but the building was so silent around them that he was assaulted with the noises of drunk fights and arguments and cheers coming from the tavern next door. It kept him from slipping into the daze his body wanted him to, at least.

“Are you good, dad?” Octavia’s words came low and concerned from where she had been leaning against him, “We should try it now.”

“Yes, Via, go on,” Stolas forced himself to sit up properly, only if to encourage her, not sure if he had had enough rest but they had to get away from here, “Are we going back to the ship?”

“Yeah, Blitz said he would wait until midnight on there,” Octavia laid out her tools from where she had hidden them between her and the wall, “If Striker had decided to do what he was paid for, even though there was a short chance of that, then he would just send someone to check in tomorrow morning. He just wanted us to be prepared in case we needed an escape. He didn’t want to risk a full out fight with Striker in Wrath since Millie’s family—“

“Are all in Wrath,” Stolas finished for her. That’s why Blitz was so adamant about not wanting to involve the others in case he had to confront Striker.

“Yeah, but he promised he would come for us to confirm if everything went accordingly. He just wanted us to take this chance before he decided to act. Also, this way no suspicion would fall onto him if we managed to escape by ourselves and we can just set sail without any commotion.”

“Such a thoughtful man,” Stolas sighed, warmth settling into his voice.

“Ugh, dad, can you not?” Octavia scrunched her thin nose in mock disgust, “It was bad enough trapped on the ship with all that the past week.”

Octavia walked up to the lock and picked it up, lowering herself to its level. Using whatever little light came from the end of the corridor, she felt around the mechanics of it with the tools. Stolas waited, keeping an ear out for any approaching footsteps or voices as Via focused on her task, only clinks and whirs sounding in the dark. Despite everything, he felt an overwhelming rise of pride within him, making this terrible situation just the bit more bearable.

After what felt like an eternity of holding their breaths and exercising patience, with Stolas having to console Via when she got frustrated at failing yet again and again, a resounding click rang out in the cell. Via paused in her fumbling and pulled the lock out through the bars.

“Fucking yes! I did it, dad,” Octavia pumped a fist in the air, squeaking, “I can’t wait to tell them about this.”

“Good work, Starfire, I am so very proud,” Stolas stood up, grunting at the pull the sudden stretch caused to his injuries, “They would all be proud too.”

He picked up the dagger and took off its sheath, tucking it into his waistband. He grasping the blade firmly, knowing he absolutely would not hesitate to use it if backed into a corner but still allowing himself to be a little squeamish at the thought.

Octavia pushed open the door carefully and crept quietly out, eyes towards the entrance of the building. She started walking off towards the opposite end of the corridor with a “Follow me.”

Stolas followed, supporting himself along the walls, until Octavia stopped in front of a rickety wooden door, the air from outside shifting in through the space where it hung off the hinges in one corner.

Octavia looked back at him, putting a reassuring hand on his forearm, whispering, “We have to go quick from here, dad.”

Stolas nodded and she kicked open the door easily with a loud bang. Immediately they heard hurried footsteps enter the building.

They made it out through what was the back entrance, leading to another narrow alley, that led towards the main street, the back door of the assassins’ tavern the only obstacle in their path. A loud cry of escaped royals came from behind them as they moved. Octavia slunk along the walls, like a bug or a mouse, while checking continuously behind to make sure Stolas was still standing on his feet and following along. They could see a bunch of people in an uproar from the tiny gap between the two buildings as they ran into the cell building from the tavern.

“Come on, dad. Quickly now,” Octavia made a run for the street through the alley and Stolas held his breath for a moment, exhaled, then tried not to stumble as he did the same. That would be the worst thing he could do at that moment.

They passed by the alley that led to the front of the tavern that they had gone down into just a few hours ago, and Stolas was just about to allow himself a breath of relief when Striker stepped out as they crossed it, hissing lowly.

“Are you sure you want to try this, you blue-blooded fuckers.”

Octavia swung around, her eyes blazing as she picked up the closest thing she could get her hands on, which turned out to be a wooden crate from beside a closed stall.

“Oh, fuck you,” she said, aiming it at his head and Stolas watched with barely held delight as Striker’s neck snapped back at the impact, caught off guard.

He felt his daughter grab onto his hand and pull him along at a dizzying speed.

“Via, listen,” he panted out, gripping his sides, “Just run. Just go ahead to Blitz, don’t worry about me. Get help.”

Stolas knew he was just barely holding on to consciousness, the sounds around him dampened, as thundering blood rushed in his ears. Still he focused on his daughter’s sprinting figure in front of him, tugging him along forcefully as he tried to not hold her back. If at least she could escape this safely…

Stolas could hear footsteps increase in quantity behind them, could feel Octavia’s determined gaze falter as she looked behind but he didn’t know how much further he could make it. Just a bit more, Stolas had been through this market, the stalls all boarded up now, his eyesight turned blurrier, but just a bit more…

He fell almost face first into the cobbled pavement as something hit his lower back, catching himself on his knees and hands at the last moment. He groaned in pain and watched the look of horror on his daughter’s face as she too was stopped short by the impact. She looked behind them, her hands trembling and so Stolas did too and fuck, Striker was standing looking mighty pleased, too many of his henchmen with him for them to handle. Not like they even had a chance.

“Via, please,” Stolas pleaded, letting go of her hand.

“I’m not leaving you!”

“Such a heartwarming scene,” Striker laughed, closing the distance and pushing Stolas onto his back as one of his men pulled a struggling and cursing Octavia away from him, “Shame the news that Prince Goetia had died like a commoner in a bar brawl gone wrong will be going around all over by tomorrow. I sure will enjoy choking the life out of you.”

“Oh,” Stolas focused on the ugly moustache on the snarling man’s face coated in the dribbling blood from his nose. Striker straddled him, almost cutting off the blood supply to his brain by squeezing his evidently very slender neck and Stolas felt the world go quiet around him.

“This is a good fucking way to go at least,” he moaned out, overly exaggerated, watching in amusement as Striker sat back horrified at that, the pressure on his windpipe lessening. Stolas drove the unsheathed dagger right into the side of his abdomen as hard as he could.

The man on top of him screamed in pain, flinching back and Stolas pushed him off, pulling out the dagger and watched with some sick and well earned satisfaction as deep red gushed out of the cut.

He stood on shaking legs surrounded by Striker’s panicked men, looking over at Octavia kicking around as a much bigger man held her up away from the ground with one arm around her middle. He felt a long held back rage rear its head in his depths.

“Let go of my daughter,” he growled, “Or do you freaks get off on hurting young kids? Let her go and come at me instead.”

Striker stood up, cackling like a man who had lost his mind, his men cautiously joining him until a dagger swished past Stolas’ head from behind and right into the sternum of one of the men, the laughter freezing on his face as he fell backwards.

“He said let go of his daughter, asshole,” oh thank fuck, Stolas recognised that cocky voice at least, that was a much more welcome one.

He watched as Loona jumped onto the back of the man holding Octavia, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back to slit his throat with a single slash. Moxxie blocked the view as he walked up from behind, passing by Stolas and aiming his gun, shooting the two people beside Striker cleanly in the middle of their foreheads. Striker backed away in shock as he was hit by the spurting blood.

Millie’s high pitched “Yee fucking haw!” broke through the night air as Stolas felt the swing of her axe on his other side before she came into view running straight into the group in front of them.

Chaos erupted around him as did screams and howls of pain but Stolas barely took anything else in, the sudden relief overtaking his body making him lose balance and fall backwards. Onto a big wide palm seeping warmth through his damp shirt.

“Blitz,” he whispered, clenching his jaw at his throbbing head.

“That’s me,” he heard, then saw the scarred and extremely well appreciated, beautiful sight coming into view, those eyes softening at him. The hand belonging to the face wrapped around his back, lowering him to the ground. Another arm held up a pistol and Stolas covered his ears automatically as a finger pulled the trigger, two consecutive loud bangs ringing out just near his head.

“Blitz, save Via, please,” Stolas watched Blitz’s face twist in confusion, waving his pistol pointedly to their side.

Stolas turned his head and observed as Octavia swept a man’s feet off the ground with a kick as he tried to sneak up behind Loona with a knife and they both turned their furious attention to the man, stomping the shit out of him as he shrieked.

“Oh,” Stolas smiled, a bit loopy, as Blitz lowered him fully to the ground, “Alright. Save me, then.”

“On it, birdie,” he heard as he gave in to his body’s limits and lost consciousness, “Just take your nap.”

Chapter Text

Blitz wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from pacing circles around the main deck even if he had wanted. The sun had gone down, it had been hours since he dropped the two off with Striker and he kept waiting, and waiting some more.

It hadn’t been midnight quite yet but the voice in his mind roared at him to just go back to the tavern and bring the two royals back, worrying about starting a fight between their assassin crews and taking on the entirety of Striker’s lackeys be damned.

He had faith in Octavia, the kid was a fizzing bomb just waiting for the chance to explode. But as the night went on, he had started having doubts about the kid actually being able to get them both out, knowing Striker might be worse than his usual self with the royals if he had decided to scrap their arrangement.

The rest of the team had been scattered all over the deck, their unease and impatience showing up in different ways. There was Moxxie, polishing his guns and constantly checking the bullets encased within, clicking the safety on and off in the hush around them. Loona, who had seemed unaffected on the outside as always, was going around fiddling around with the ropes, adjusting the sails they had already set for a speedy escape for lack of anything else to do. Millie was the only one who had sat next to the plank leading to the harbour, smiling consolingly at him, her axe already strapped to her back, but her eyes shifty and a little bitter.

He had felt terrible letting her know they couldn’t stop at Wrath for a few days so she could spend time with her family. He knew how much her younger sister missed her and how much her parents worried about their daughter. She had just squeezed his shoulder, always too supportive, when she had returned from her trip to her family tavern, Moxxie showing off all the supplies her family had provided them. She had then taken him around the markets for whatever else they needed to stock up on to distract him when Blitz had looked seconds away from marching his way to Striker.

“Hey, guys,” he had said as his feet came to a stop, looking towards the street that took them to the alley, “Um—“

“Yeah, Blitz,” Loona had made her way to him, “We should go check, it’s been a while.”

It had been way too long. Fuck, Blitz had felt so stupid just handing them over like that, felt like such a coward for still being wary of Striker’s influence over in Wrath. Thoughts of Stolas—sweet, unmarred, underprepared Stolas—being tortured and beaten by Striker had immediately made him want to dash off down towards the tavern. Thoughts of Octavia being beaten up had made him want to set Striker on fucking fire.

“I’m sorry, you know,” he had said as he watched his team gather up, prepared to go fuck shit up with him yet again, “For putting you all in this situation.”

“Come on, B,” Millie had a bloodthirsty gleam in her warm eyes at the very idea of a soon too come fight, “It’s not like you could make us do anything we didn’t want to. I’d rather we get the princesses back with us, if only it’d get rid of the moping you have been doing all day.”

“What moping—“

“Let’s go, dad,” Loona had hissed out, fiddling with her upper ear piercing, her eyes narrowed but pleading, “They could be in deep shit.”

And they were, when they had come across them right before the market stalls had started, all abandoned for the night as their owners remained completely unaware of what was to come. At least, they had managed to escape and make it enough of the way to the ship that Blitz and the team could jump in at a very good time.

Blitz had seen red at the scene in front of him from where they had been slinking around in shadows to avoid notice. When his eyes fell on Striker and his people laughing at the lone man still standing despite looking like he would fall over at a gust of wind, still snarling about his daughter, said daughter being roughly handled by another lackey, he didn’t think twice before taking a dagger from his belt and chucking it as he stepped out.

Now, as Blitz lowered a very battered Stolas, damn such a shame for that face, to the ground, snickering to himself at the adorable, and yes, he will admit that, way the prince had asked him to save him, already out of it, he was very glad he had seen this coming a long way.

“Blitzo, what a surprise,” Striker observed them, a hand on his lasso, cackling, “Really? Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft for this royal.”

Blitz shot at another guy who came at him with a sword. Didn’t none of these fuckers have guns. Striker really was the only competent one they would have to deal with.

All around them, Blitz watched as most of the people were taken down by his team, and Octavia who was pulling her weight like she had been doing this for years, in a disappointingly short time. He also took note, with satisfaction, that Striker was holding onto his side with his other hand, a long gash there dripping blood to the pavement.

“Damn, talking about going soft, how’s that wound feel?”

“Fucking clown,” Striker spat, all traces of humour disappearing, pulling his own pistol out and aiming it around skittishly like a cornered animal as Blitz’s team surrounded him, “Do you even know what I could do to you? I could make it so you never step foot in Wrath again.”

“Uh huh,” Blitz nodded absentmindedly, twirling his pistol, signalling to Moxxie who had his hands deep in his coat pocket.

Moxxie nodded back, letting him know he was all set, and walked around Striker back to Blitz’s side. Loona pulled Octavia away behind Blitz, Millie following after, splattered in blood not at all her own and Striker pointed his gun at Blitz loosely, confused at everyone’s retreat.

Blitz backed away until his feet came in contact with Stolas’ unconscious form, “Only if you get away, bitch.”

Striker blinked at him as Blitz hauled Stolas over his shoulder, saluting him with two fingers. He seemed to come back to his senses, his fingers almost pulling the trigger as he pointed the barrel straight at Blitz.

Blitz made a run for it, turning his back, as soon as he saw Moxxie light up the wick hanging out of a glass bottle filled with gunpowder and hurl it right at Striker’s head.

He picked up speed just as the sound of the glass hitting something and shattering came from behind them and a loud boom followed. Blitz’s hair and clothes swung forward at the impact, followed soon by an intense heat at his back.

He spun around on his heels as he made it a bit further, having to right himself at the extra weight, taking count of the footsteps around him and watched a figure roll around in agony in the middle of the small explosion, the flames spreading to the nearby stalls.

He felt himself slow down as flames from another fire from a different time flashed in front of his unblinking eyes and suddenly Blitz was ruining everyone’s lives, suddenly Blitz was losing everyone he cared about in front of his eyes and he was helpless. Did everyone even make it out of there, what if they ended up like—like—

“Blitz,” Blitz looked down, unfocused and afloat from his body, at the small pale hand tugging his shirt, following it all the way up to Octavia’s terrified, bloodless face, her eyes flickering to her unconscious father over his shoulder. Oh, right.

“Blitz, we have to go. The town people will come out at the noise,” what noise, oh Striker’s screams, the explosion, the fire, the screams…Did the fucker get away?

“Blitz, dad, please,” Blitz jerked out of his daze at the fear in Loona’s voice, never having heard something like that directed at him, like she was afraid for him.

“Right. Yeah. Yeah,” Blitz shook his head and himself out of whatever that was as he noticed the commotion of the locals start up around them, “Hey, kid,” Octavia blinked at him, her hand still gripping his shirt tightly, “Heave ho!”

He jerked Stolas’ slumped form more securely over his shoulder, winking at the girl and Octavia let out a surprised laugh at her father being treated just slightly better than a sack of potatoes. She let go of him, taking Loona’s hand from where she was stood, rigid, and ran towards the ship. M&M were already onboard, untangling the knot to the rope tying the ship to the harbour.

He looked back one last time at the crowd gathered around the small fire as he stepped onto the ship, lowering Stolas to the deck. He had a nagging feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.

Blitz didn’t bother sitting at the guy’s bedside as he recovered, he wasn’t that much of an idiot.

According to Moxxie who had checked him over once they had sailed far away enough, he was pretty badly bruised up, most of it over his lower left ribs and the middle of his abdomen and but nothing seemed broken that they would need more serious care. No signs of any internal bleeding or haemor— whatever fancy term Moxxie used—the guy wasn’t coughing or throwing up blood. Just had a motley of red patterning because of skin-deep bleeding spreading over his veiny skin, a sight that Blitz would almost call artistically pleasing if it wasn’t such an asshole thing to do.

His nose had been the worst of it, the soft cartilage hit with a strong enough force to need some support while healing but his windpipe was still intact. Blitz knew that to mean that he was still breathing comfortably enough to live.

That was good enough for Blitz. No need for bedside wailing or get well soon flowers.

He did hear Octavia sobbing all night, hiccuping and whimpering, as their ship sailed further away from Wrath, the shock of the whole thing having finally gotten to her. He had considered trying to comfort her. She was a pretty okay kid and her dad was out cold for that particular job for the time being.

But he had only listened through the crack in the door, stepping aside after opening it and leaning against the wall, as Octavia cried angrily at her father, all patched up and wrapped in bandages thanks to Moxxie’s convenient first aid skills, her voice stuttering and breaking off with every word, but furious as she took the opportunity to blurt out anything she couldn’t while he was awake.

Something about how he couldn’t keep doing dumb things until one day, they finally stick and he leaves her for good, what would she do without him and his desperate attempts to set things right for her, how she didn’t want to be anywhere until he was with her too, how she didn’t want to be sent back all alone to her—

Blitz had looked away, refusing to feel ashamed, as Loona had walked up to the door catching him in his eavesdropping. She had been holding a plate of bread and jam, for Octavia he guessed, the poor girl hadn’t eaten all day. He shrugged and walked away, leaving her to deal with the crying teen. She was much better cut out for that anyways.

While he spent the next few days trying to decide what they were going to do next, Stolas had been recovering well as Moxxie kept updating him even if he didn’t really ask. He had woken up the next morning, groggy but desperately begging for water, had started sitting up on the bed without pain in another two days, had started gobbling down his meals on the third after only sipping on stews and soups, stating his abdomen no longer felt like it was cramping up.

So, yeah, he was recovering well with his sweet little daughter religiously by his side, no matter how many times Blitz had asked Loona to try and convince her outside and distract her with something else. He was recovering and Blitz felt a huge relief at that but it was still dangerous to have them on board. They had no idea if Striker escaped and he wouldn’t be able to go back to Wrath for a long time to confirm for himself.

He could always just drop them off in Pride, if Stolas wanted that, if he had finally had enough of the adventures he so badly wanted. Or where did he say he was going—

Footsteps padded their way heavily across the deck as he sat up in the crow’s nest for his lookout duty, a week after they had left Wrath, still directionless. Blitz looked down uninterestedly at the silver head as it swung around, obviously searching for something.

“Glad to see you’re up and strutting about already,” he called out, saving the guy the trouble.

Stolas jumped at the voice piercing the swishing of waves and looked right up at the feet hanging over the perch, his eyes blazing.

“Get down here!” he pointed with a single finger right in front of him, “This instant!”

Blitz snorted, ignoring the tantrum being thrown, as he looked back down at the half completed sketch in his lap, the charcoal having rubbed off on his fingers as the crudely made pencil became smaller. Horses, his usual go to for creative exploration; a heart shaped face, beak like nose, beaming, Blitz had scribbled that one out before he could draw any further; a rough doodle of Loona and Octavia huddled up, reading a book his daughter had gotten from Wrath in the short time they had been there, something he had stumbled upon just yesterday. That one was cute.

Blitz was happy to see his daughter opening up to someone, it might be exactly what she needed. Someone to guide, someone to protect, someone who looked upto her as well, a younger sis—

“Blitz!” He rolled his eyes at the shrill cry of his name cutting through his thoughts, “You can’t avoid me forever.”

And that caught his attention.

“Who the fuck is avoiding you, bitch?” he bent out sideways over the edge. Stolas had his fingers curled over his narrow hips, huffing prissily still, craning his head up. Blitz could see the splotchy marks around his long neck.

“You are. And don’t even try denying it. I asked everyone where you have been the past few days and they were all fumbling around, trying to come up with an answer. Changing the topic every time.”

“I don’t owe you—“

“I’m sorry, okay!”

Blitz blinked down at the urgency in his voice. What was the fucker sorry about?

“I’m sorry I put your crew in danger. I have already apologised to Via but I don’t know if she can ever forgive me for putting her in that situation, in the hands of—,” Stolas took a deep breath, “But, I’m sorry for not listening, sorry for making you come save our asses, and now, and now—you can’t even—“

Ugh. This guy and his dramatic ass. Blitz folded up the paper and shoved it into his coat pocket.

“Don’t cry now, motherfucker,” Blitz called out as he went over the perch, his feet stepping onto the nets around the mast they used to climb up and down them, “You have bruised ribs. I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Blitz felt the bottom of his boots touch ground, braced himself and glanced over at Stolas. Watched as Stolas’ hand reached for his side, his eyes pinched shut for a moment not in actual pain but probably from thinking back to what it had been like a few days ago because of Blitz’s words. Moxxie did say the bruising had gone down, and if that little shit was wrong, what even was he keeping him around for.

And…oh wow. Blitz hadn’t looked at that face in a week. It was definitely in better condition than it had been that night, but Blitz could still see all yellowish patches of skin all around a nose wrapped up in dressing and supported with a splint made with a thin bark of wood, bluish spots at the corner of lips and near both sides of the jaw. The swelling around his eyes had gone down but traces of faded blue around the eye sockets lingered still. A ring of marks around the neck, in different shades and stages of blue, purple, yellowish-green now that Blitz looked closely, left behind as a reminder of what could have happened if Blitz didn’t decide to go looking for them when he did.

Why was Stolas not even dressed properly, Blitz looked him over as he shivered in his thin, blue nightshirt that seemed to know exactly where to flow and cling onto over his torso and just sleeping pants. Blitz had asked Millie if she could find some old clothes for them. It didn’t even reach his ankles, his feet bare on the floorboards.

His feet—

“Why are you bare-footed?”

“Oh, uh,” Stolas looked at his feet, wiggling the toes as if just noticing, “I forgot. Via mentioned you were on guard duty tonight and I thought—“

“You thought it’d be a good time to corner me,” Blitz scoffed, putting his hands on his hips.

“To see you!” Stolas squawked, “I wanted to see you.”

Blitz lifted his shoulders defensively, moving to sit near the main mast he had been perched on just moments ago, “Right, you saw me. Now hurry your pretty ass back to your warm cabin before we have to waste our medical supplies on nursing you back from a cold.”

“What? No—,” Stolas stomped a foot down childishly, “I’m not going. You’ll go back to avoiding me tomorrow.”

“Have you thought about respecting that, then?”

Blitz watched as Stolas’ mouth dropped open at that and yeah, good. Good. The guy winced sharply as the action pulled at the healing bruises on his jaws. The fight seemed to drain out of him as his thin shoulders slumped inwards, his hand grabbing onto his other, his eyes darting all over and shit, Blitz strangely felt guilty at that. It was a little entertaining watching the guy in a fit of temper.

“I’m sorry, Blitz,” he shuddered out, wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing them to warm himself, “You knew Striker way better and I should have asked you what to do instead of just being impulsive. Thank you for saving us. That’s all I wanted to say. I’ll—I’ll leave you be.”

Blitz stared for a moment as the shirt ruffled around in the wind, too flimsy to be wearing outside and Stolas backed away a step.

“Ugh, come on, birdie,” Blitz focused on shrugging off his coat, instead of making himself look into downcast eyes, trusting his own shirt much more to block out the wind, “Forget I said that. Here, take this if you wanna join me for a while on my very exciting watch duty.”

Stolas’ head snapped towards the offered coat, red dusting his cheeks and even with all the fucked up marks, or maybe because the colour stood out obnoxiously under them, Stolas still looked fucking pretty. It was totally unfair. How did some people get to look like that after having their asses beaten.

He felt long fingers brush against his knuckles, his hand flinching at the icy fingertips, as the coat was taken and Stolas pulled it around his shoulders, folding his long ass limbs to sit beside him. Yeah, he looked good with a leather coat alright.

Blitz should probably stop staring so obviously and look elsewhere though, how long was too long of a glance at someone anyways. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a smoke, lighting it up and putting it between his lips before he used them to say, or do, something dumber than letting the guy sit with him.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Blitz heard Stolas whisper out, right next to his ears as he blew out grey smoke into the air, the taste of ash taking over in his mouth.

“Ran out of them. Stocked up in Wrath. Don’t know when we’ll get to do that again.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Save your fucking sorries, Stolas,” Blitz exhaled again, tapping the excess ash off and watching the flakes be blown away by the breeze before they could fall to the ground, “We made our own choices, both me and my team. We wanted to save you—um, we didn’t want you both falling into Striker’s hands.”

Stolas huffed, “Via told me what happened after I lost consciousness,” hopefully not the part where Blitz froze up like an idiot, “Thank you for carrying me back.”

“Like a wet sack of feathers.”

“Blitz!” Blitz laughed at the affronted tone, his breath catching in the process of taking a drag as Stolas tipped his face towards him, squinting, “You know, I’ve never smoked before.”

“Of course you haven’t, you uppity bitches are too proper for these kind of habits, right?” Blitz mocked, furrowing his brows as he observed Stolas’ eyes from up way too close and staring hard at the cigar, “You want to give it a try?”

Stolas averted his gaze, flushing, his fingers interwoven tightly, “Yes. If you wouldn’t mind. I don’t know how to, though.”

“Here, I’ll tell you,” Blitz pulled the cig out from his lips and held it out, shaking off the excess ash collecting at the burning end.

Blitz was expecting the guy to take it, hold it between his own fingers like Blitz had.

He absolutely did not expect the guy to lean down to where he had held it out and look up at Blitz through long lashes and stray silvery strands as he wrapped his lips, purposefully slow, around the cigar still in between Blitz’s fucking fingers.

His spine straightened as if turned to stone, his whole body unmoving with bated breath and a clenched jaw, as Stolas dragged a short pull, barely enough to even make it into his lungs, just like that, fuck, and moved away to blow the smoke out through those same lips formed into a small pout.

“Like this?” Stolas cocked an eyebrow at Blitz’s slack face. He didn’t even want to know what Stolas was seeing on it.

“Fuck. Yes. Just like that.”

Stolas snorted, the sound cheeky and cute, and moved to lean down again, holding onto the lapels of Blitz’s fucking coat and pulling it tighter around himself. Sitting beside Blitz on his fucking ship, his face blocking out everything else from Blitz’s vision, those gold-red eyes lit up in challenge. The fucking nerve.

He caught the fucker’s chin before he could seal his lips around the cig again, moving it away and readjusting the hold to put it back between his own lips, maintaining the eye contact as Stolas inhaled sharply. He pulled a long drag through his teeth while his thumb moved on its own, brushing across the small bow in Stolas’ upper lips, feeling the shift of it as Stolas gasped. He said ’fuck it’ in his mind and flicked the cig to his feet where he crushed it under his boot.

“You’re too damn hot, it’s not fai—“

Blitz’s words cut off as those lips crashed into his, Stolas’ face pushing into his roughly. As soon as it had happened, before Blitz could even catch his mind up to it, Stolas had jumped back with a yelp as he cupped his nose with both palms.

“Fuck!” he cursed, tears springing in his eyes reflexively from the pain.

And once Blitz had gotten over the shock of the guy hurting himself, he fell onto his back with full bodied howling laughter. He was being way too loud but fuck, this was just precious. And embarrassing.

“Oh, fuck you,” there was no bite behind those words as a giggle followed.

Blitz sat back up, glancing towards Stolas wiping his eyes delicately but grinning widely. He pulled those hands away and held them to either side of the guy’s face to look at the damage himself. The dressing didn’t seem to be soaked in blood so at least nothing had been irritated again, his nose splint still in its place. Fucking impulsive bitch.

“I’m fine, Blitz. Just a little sore still,” Stolas had gone almost cross eyed as he held his breath while Blitz moved in to inspect the dressing, tangling his fingers with Blitz’s where he had held his arms away, “Can we—can we do that again?”

Blitz raised an eyebrow at him, sitting back.

“Is that too forward?” Stolas sighed, withdrawing, “It must have been just the moment. I know you don’t—I’m sorry again—“

“Alright, birdie, calm down,” Blitz clasped onto both of his palms, the skin so much softer compared to his scarred ones, and yanked him in closer, his eyes wandering as Stolas’ flush didn’t even get a single moment of reprieve before it came back full force, reddening his ears this time. He won’t lie to himself, it was kind of nice to see someone be this affected by him, “Just making sure you don’t bleed into my mouth. Although, that might be hot, too.”

“You—“

Mouthy fucker.

Blitz let his hand travel to the back of his head, feeling the soft strands for the first time and tugging at them mildly in warning. He watched fascinated and with a tiny bit of pity as Stolas melted with a contented whimper into the side of his wrist and quieted down, his cheek squishing onto it.

He drew his face in, gently and cautiously tilting his healing nose out of the way. He sighed into the simple press as Stolas moaned at the contact, his entire body still facing forwards, his neck tilted down painfully, Blitz had to assume.

If it was, Stolas didn’t show it, cradling Blitz’s jaw with both cold, cold, palms, rubbing his thumbs over the angle of them, as he nudged him to deepen the kiss.

Their mouths met again, thrice, just another time, a hint of tongue there at Stolas’ lips, and fuck, that mouth fell open so easily. Blitz could hardly keep up with all the fucking sounds he was making and the sloppy way their tongues pushed together until Blitz grabbed onto the side of his head to guide him better, letting himself play with the curve of his ear and then digging his fingers into his jaw. The way he winced then whined needily at the pain in his sore jaw, yeah Blitz was for sure showing signs of not having gotten laid in a while.

He shoved Stolas away lightly, the other man following their parted mouths in a daze, a trail of drool that Blitz swiped away as it went down the corner of his mouth. One of his hand had travelled down to pull onto the collar of Blitz’s shirt, his knees clamped together. Blitz smirked as he watched him fidget in place, trying to pull him back in. Not like Blitz was faring any better, having to adjust himself as he pushed the hands away.

“Blitz,” fuck what did he even mean by whining like that. Blitz exhaled shakily.

“Look, I’m on lookout duty right now. I have to—stay here. If we continue any more of this, I will have to fuck you soon. And we can’t do that out here.”

Stolas let out a breath, swaying a dark strand of Blitz’s hair, trailing a finger down Blitz’s chest making him shiver. Then he shed off Blitz’s coat, folding it beside him, as he shifted backwards until his spine hit the main mast, his knees bent and spreading wide open.

“Why not?” And fuck, was this the fucking siren call they keep warning pirates to look out for?

Really good fucking question, Blitz’s dick said to him as it laid eyes on the pretty man laid out in front of him, so inviting, running a palm over the marks on his neck and dragging it downwards brazenly as he gasped, why the fuck not, remind me again, dumbass.

Blitz decided to listen to it this time, crawling his way to Stolas and pulling that wandering hand away with a gritted “Tease.”

After, as they leant against the mast side by side, panting—Stolas wiping himself off with Blitz’s shirt that they had taken off somewhere between Blitz jerking him off against the mast as he twisted around like a slippery eel, his arms up and around the mast behind him, and Blitz bending him over with those same hands gripping onto the railing in front as he fucked into him—Blitz looked over at the guy. Grumbling about being sticky, in his rumpled clothes and flaunting that flushed skin. Blitz pictured back to the way he had rucked up that stupid shirt and watched as his rough, scarred hands wrapped around that dainty fucking waist, then pushed his damp hair back and lunged for the guy again.

Okay, after they fell into each other to go for another round where Blitz had ended up shaking off a few silver blond strands that he had ripped off accidentally while pulling that mouth up from his cock as Stolas swallowed down too much too quickly, risking hurting his nose again; something which had only made Stolas moan harder around his dick, that painslut.

After, after, still a long way from morning so Blitz can be freed from his duty and even freer to drag the guy back to his cabin, Blitz grimaced as Stolas started talking.

“That was my first time, with a man.”

Damn and bent right over the side of the ship, squealing like a whore into the vastness of the dark sea too. All that responsiveness and enthusiasm, wasted for almost all of his adult life?

“Couldn’t tell. You must have a natural talent for sucking dick.” He absolutely did not but Blitz’s dick wasn’t complaining.

“Learnt the theory of it from a book, believe it or not.”

“Yeah, from one of those eroticas, I suppose,” Blitz looked at the shy, unsure look in Stolas’ eyes as he used a clean part of the shirt to wipe over face gently, “What else they teach you the ‘theory’ of?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Fuck, his voice was still scratchy.

“I absolutely would love to,” Blitz sat up, his breathing calming to somewhat normal, tucking himself back in, “Why don’t you show me later when I return to my cabin after someone wakes for the morning.”

“Oh, I—“ Stolas stared at Blitz, hair properly mussed and sticking up in odd directions as it always should be, those perfect fucking eyes to stare into as they rolled backwards when he came widening nervously now, “I thought I could sit here with you? We could talk.”

Oh fuck no. Being gentle enough while bending a guy at the waist and taking his time opening him up because they had to make do with spit so he doesn’t hurt his healing ribs was one thing. Blitz had fucked him as roughly as he had begged for to make up for it. Blitz wasn’t one to care about exchanging pleasantries or talk about dreams and desires after a fuck.

“Yeah, not in the mood. I have to do my job, I’ve slacked off enough,” he picked off the neatly folded coat from the ground and shrugged it onto his bare torso, pleased at the way Stolas’ pupils dropped momentarily to his navel, “You gotta give me some time before we can go again, bitch. I’m not in my twenties anymore.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Stolas leaned in, sighing dreamily, fluttering his eyes shut. His lips landed awkwardly as Blitz turned his head away, scowling.

“Blitz.”

“Look, why don’t you go to my cabin and wait for me in my bed, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as Stolas backed away, fixing his shirt, his eyes turning sad, “Just…just want to think some things by myself for a bit, okay? Just take my bed for the night. I’ll even bring you breakfast, how about that.”

Stolas cheered up a little at that. Blitz can stave off his guilt till the morning then.

Which was taking way too long to come, Blitz frowned, his nails digging into his thighs as Stolas stood and pulled his pants up, an exaggerated sway in his hips as he pranced towards the cabins.

Fuck, the sun had it out for him today.

Blitz was really thankful it wasn’t Loona who came out to relieve him of his duty in the morning.

He still debated whether her grossed out scowl and murderous urges would be more preferable to Millie’s all too-knowing smirk and Moxxie’s stiff look of disapproval when they found him with his coat hanging open, smoking another cig in all his fucked out glory.

“Out here, sir?” Moxxie pointed an accusing finger at him, “Don’t you have any consideration for the rest of us?”

“Oh fuck off with your big words, Moxxie. Like you two haven’t done it against all acrobatically possible surfaces on this ship.”

“Yeah, we have,” Millie grabbed onto Moxxie’s face, turning it to plant a kiss on him, shutting him up. Blitz gagged, beaming inwardly, at the display. That went on for too fucking long. If he had to hear some more moaning going on—

“Christ on a fucking stick, didn’t you already get dicked down enough all night, Moxxie?” Blitz groaned, shifting in his seat, “Keep it off my deck.”

“You—“

“Was it fun, B?”

Blitz stood up, smoking this cig completely, flicking it off towards the seas. He grinned at Millie’s excited curiosity.

“Too fucking fun. Going to go do it again, don’t bother me for a while,” Blitz ignored Moxxie’s spluttering to button up his coat.

“Left him waiting for you in bed, did you?”

Blitz paused at that, every part of him revolting at the picture of domesticity that line painted. He scoffed at Millie’s sly, toothy grin and made his way to the kitchen, pushing past them. Because he was hungry, and he could make two plates of whatever he wanted while at it.

He cooked up breakfast for all of them in the end, that made it more impersonal, he nodded to himself wisely . He decided today would be a good day to break into their new supply of eggs and fruits from Millie’s parents’ farm.

As he cut up the fruits and boiled the eggs, his mind drifted back to what he had thought about the whole night. Specifically the part about what he should do with the royals, having settled on something by the morning, not a whole lot of indecision holding him back. He could hide them on board until then.

“Wakey, wakey, birdie,” Blitz called out, balancing two plates on top of one another as he pushed the door to his room open.

He stopped short at the man rousing, muttering irritably to himself, letting out a huge yawn as he settled his head right back down on Blitz’s pillow, his eyelids drooping as he pulled his blanket tighter around.

Blitz walked into the room fully prepared to shove Stolas out of bed, that lazy ass, and paused yet again as his eyes fell on what was beside Stolas as he lay sideways facing Blitz.

A book was opened to a page and planted face down beside the sleeping man, its cover promising a very raunchy whirlwind romance between a prince and his stablehand.

Okay, so Blitz had felt bad after insulting Stolas for his choice of reading material. So he had gone around Wrath, being judged hard by Millie, and sought out vendors who might sell used copies of those kind of books and then stashed the three he had picked out carelessly on his desk, too preoccupied with Striker to hide them. Then he had just forgotten they were there.

He still doesn’t know what he was expecting while buying them, just hoped he could hand them over to Stolas after he brought him back and Stolas would just accept it for the apology it was. (So, he had picked one out with illustrated art to not waste his bare minimum reading abilities, and he had found it quite interesting but nobody has to know that.)

“Didn’t know you were a connoisseur of such genre of novels as well,” Blitz startled at the snarky tone, holding the plates securely as the reddish pair of eyes, more gold in the daylight, examined him from where Stolas had buried his head sideways into Blitz’s pillow, “I hope you don’t mind. I like to have something to read before I go to sleep.”

“They’re not mine. I can barely read all those words. They’re yours,” Blitz hoped he sounded as nonchalant as he wanted to.

Stolas pushed himself up at that, the collar of his shirt slipping down exposing most of his defined collarbones and a shoulder and Blitz focused right there, so that at least he wouldn’t have to look at those eyes. He wondered distractedly if he could leave some bites without the guy’s daughter immediately tying a rock to his feet and hauling his whole ass into the sea.

“Mine? But I don’t—“

“I got them for you, okay. You like them and you lost yours when Striker took them. A shame, too, I was going through the one you had. That had some nice drawings of horses inside,” Blitz shrugged as he handed Stolas his plate of food, Stolas blinking down at it before he sat up properly to accept it, his eyes sparkling dangerously.

“Oh shit, don’t cry. Are they not to your liking? You can burn them if you want,” Blitz sat down on the bed, taking his coat off, pretending not to notice the eyes on him as he shoved the cut up boiled eggs down his throat, “Hey, eat those oranges on your plate. Millie’s parents grew them and they’re good for wounds while they’re healing.”

“Blitz,” shit, he still sounded tearful so Blitz avoided looking at him, “I—thank you. For the books. And the oranges.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

They ate in silence then, until, “It’s quite a well written novel, surprisingly. The story has captured my interest.”

“Yeah? What’s it about?” Blitz asked, chewing with his mouth open and smirking in amusement at the brief disgusted scrunch of Stolas’ face, “All I know is that stablehands handle horses so I picked it up.”

“What is your obsession with horses?” Stolas sounded exasperated, not really judging.

“Well, damn, take a guy out around town before you start poking at his life story, Stols,” Stolas blinked rapidly a few times at that, a slice of orange lifted halfway to his mouth.

Blitz shrugged, “They had a ton of guy on guy action going on at that stall by the way, thought you might appreciate that. The vendor, she looked quite shady, winked at me and everything, like we were sharing a secret. Hah, as if I don’t fuck guys on the regular.”

Blitz huffed a laugh as he remembered that day.

“Oh. Do you?”

“Do I what?” Blitz should wipe off that drop of juice left behind on those lips.

“Fuck guys on the regular?”

“Yeah, women too. Just anyone, really,” Blitz carefully watched Stolas for a reaction but he didn’t look too offended at Blitz’s promiscuity, “Had been a while being cooped up in here before yesterday, but got it taken care of, huh? Oh shit, if you’re worried about me going bare, don’t be, I used protection every time.”

“That’s not—“ Stolas blinked once, as if just realising, “Well. Good to know.”

He purred as he set his empty plate aside, turning towards Stolas who was pushing around his half eaten eggs, not even ogling Blitz the way he always shamelessly does.

“And that’s all you do?” He asked quietly, setting his plate aside as well, “Just fuck them?”

“Yes?” Blitz had no idea where this line of questioning was going, “What else am I supposed to do?”

“Right, of course,” Stolas chuckled airily, clutching a hand to his chest, then more subdued, “Of course.”

“So,” Blitz coughed, catching Stolas’ attention away from where he seemed to sink into his own head, “You want to tell me what the book’s about?”

“Right, yes,” Stolas shook his head and raised his hands to gesture around, “So, there’s this prince right. And he grew up all lonely in this huge palace—“

Right, yeah, always with the sad, lonely princes in their big ass palaces.

“Uh-uh, Princey,” Blitz moved forward to pull the top of Stolas’ shirt to one side, stroking at the base of his throat, “Get to the fun part.”

Stolas swallowed and Blitz felt it against his Adam’s apple, his flush travelling down his neck and spreading all over his chest as Blitz pressed him down against the pillow to mouth over the heated skin, scraping lightly with his teeth, “The fun part, huh? You want me to do a line by line reading…fuck,” Stolas arched up, his fingers tangling into Blitz’s hair as Blitz bit down against his pulse, “of the—of the part where they engage in a night of passionate fornication outside a barn under the stars? Perhaps sprinkle a bit of horses in there too, hmm?”

Blitz so wasn’t listening but looked up at the last part from where he was focused unbuttoning the damn shirt, “Hey, now you’re speaking my language. So what did the prince learn from getting down and dirty with a roll in the hay? Any particular tricks the stablehand taught him?”

Stolas rolled his eyes, removing Blitz’s fumbling hands to unbutton the rest of it himself, letting out a breathy chuckle, “I’ll just show you then.”

Stolas held him down with a palm to the middle of his chest and fuck yeah, now they were talking. He hovered over him, obscuring the ugly ass ceiling, and bent to kiss down Blitz’s chest, lingering over the edges of the scars. His fingers ghosted over his growing bulge just as Blitz was about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, only for a moment where Blitz let out a relieved sigh before they were moving up and away too fucking soon. The fingers stopped at Blitz’s buckle, brushing over the skull brooch pinned to it.

“You always wear this. Is it something meaningful to you?”

Fuck what was this guy and wanting to talk all the time? He could be putting that mouth to much better use. Or Blitz might have to ask if he would be okay being gagged.

He brushed away Stolas’ hand from his belt, taking the brooch off and flipping them over so he can set it on the bedside table, pulling the single drawer open to bring out the vial of oil he kept in there. He dropped it beside Stolas, pulling out his thin belt in one sharp swoosh and wrapping it around his palm. He grinned down at Stolas as he straddled him, Stolas’ hands settling on his thighs, a look of eager curiosity in his eyes.

“What’re you doing?”

“Come on, Stolas,” Blitz gathered both those thin wrists in one hand and stretched them up and over his head, the muscles in the abdomen under him jumping. Stolas shut his eyes at the slight pressure, biting his bottom lips, “Let me show you something actually fun.”

Chapter Text

Once, when Stolas had been a teenager almost approaching his wedding day, he had read a novel about a circus ringmaster. One who rang out every word like a command, who cracked a whip around and tamed and trained even the wildest animals and who had taken the protagonist of the novel, a travelling singer from a troop, into one of his tents in the middle of the night and…oh dear, Stolas still felt his face heat up at the memory of the things he read even back then.

Soon, Stolas’ mind had drifted on that balmy, slow afternoon in his garden and the ringmaster’s face in his mind had morphed into what he had imagined Blitz would have grown up to look like as a teenager. And that night, after meticulously checking if his bedroom door had been locked, in the dark and muffling his humiliating sounds by biting onto the side of his palm, he lay in bed panting and removing his other hand from his pants, wet and coated like never before. Familiar shame had just swung by the edges of his conscience but more than that was a newfound elation at finally having acted on and admitting to himself what he really wanted.

And now he could almost, almost convince himself he had it.

All those years of imagining what it would be like getting held down by safe, protective arms and being desired in all kinds of ways and Stolas felt like he was finally living them out. And that it was the same person who was the main lead in all his awkward teenage fantasies, the person he was always hoping would come back and take him away from the palace, maybe back to his circus and keep him even if as just a friend, well, it all did feel too good to be true.

Blitz had unlocked some part of him, it appeared. Suddenly he had forgotten years of bashfulness and propriety drilled into him, years of being forced to keep shut and not display his inner wants and it had all become too much to be contained within just a few days.

Stolas would feel embarrassed at the shit that came out of his mouth if he wasn’t met with exasperated groans and inviting lips quirked up every time, a deep voice amusedly telling him to shut it against his ears from behind, those hands digging deeper into his arched back. Blitz would openly ridicule every one of Stolas’ suggestions for what they could try out but ultimately, they both ended up sated and sore.

Every time that Blitz winked at him provocatively at dinner, ran his hands up his thighs while he sat checking their list of supplies and rationing them, every time that Blitz clearly was pleased at the way Stolas lost his composure and was reduced to babbling when he took charge, and he felt more confident putting his worry at his own inexperience on the back burner just to give Blitz something to work with from his side too. Just to hold his interest as long as he could.

Blitz had told him a few weeks ago, after their first, no, the fourth time technically, that they were sailing to Lust.

When Stolas had just stared at him, unable to unstick his tongue from the floor of his mouth as always when it mattered, he had told him firmly that it was still dangerous for them to have them on their ship. But making sure they reached Lust safely, Blitz could take the risk to do so.

Now, as he turned his sweaty face from where he had dropped it into a pillow, he followed Blitz around with his eyes as the other man pushed himself off his bed and walked around, picking up and pulling on the clothes he had shed when he had dragged Stolas away from the main deck.

He had been talking with Moxxie, the other man glaring at a leering Blitz as Stolas tried to excuse himself out of courtesy, about how they figured out directions when sailing. They had planned to make a stop to Envy on their way to Lust to refuel and restock so that’s where they were presently headed.

Stolas hadn’t told Octavia anything about Lust yet, hoping he would figure things out while on the journey. He had time.

“You should get some sleep, Blitzy,” he murmured, his body loose and aching, and observed closely as Blitz’s fingers paused while buttoning up his shirt.

He was still getting used to the nickname, it seemed like. Stolas had tried it out a few days after they had fucked for the first time. The word he had been rolling around in his mind, trying it out when alone, just a whisper of intimacy he could assure himself of, slipping out while he felt himself falling into a pleasure and pain induced haze. Blitz had tied his wrists up in front of him to a bed post, had put him on his hands and knees when Stolas had enthusiastically assented to trying out some flogging.

Stolas had watched from the corner of his eyes, a little hopeful and a little terrified, as Blitz had looked at him bewildered at that followed soon by a frustrated sigh as he heard the sound of his pants being dropped onto the floor and, that was that. Blitz had warned him that he will gag him up the next time and “this shouldn’t leave the bedroom, bitch”, but he didn’t tell Stolas to stop.

He had known from the first time that Blitz had hinted at never getting anywhere serious with his lays but fuck if he wouldn’t take all he could get away with even if it was just a personal little nickname, he was just a tad selfish.

“We could cuddle for a while,” Stolas smiled, sheepishly, already bracing for the rejection. These were the only suggestions from Stolas that were always rejected.

“Can’t,” Blitz rolled his eyes as Stolas turned to lie on his back and stretched with a pleased moan, “You know we have to keep an eye out for shit way more now. In fact, why don’t I teach your princely ass how to keep lookout at night. I should have probably done that a while ago, it’d help us all more.”

Stolas perked up at Blitz actually wanting to spend time with him outside of their ‘activities’.

Blitz had realised after a while that Stolas didn’t really have a proper cot to sleep in in the cabin that him and Octavia were given to share and they didn’t have any other cabins with beds either. So, as he had one night watched Stolas crawl out of his bed, limping away to go plant his ass on the uncomfortable makeshift blanket bed of his, he had asked Stolas, while rubbing the back of his head and scoffing, to just take his bed.

And then immediately after, Blitz seemed to be on lookout duty almost every night, preferring to get his sleep during the day.

“You don’t have to leave, darling,” Stolas called out as Blitz walked to the door to his cabin and sat up in mild horror at the way Blitz flinched bodily at the absent-minded endearment, “Um, Blitzy. I have to instruct Via on some star sciences today. You can get your sleep.”

It was always this way, Stolas frowned to himself as he slipped out of the bed, his toes curling at contact with the cold floorboard. Their conversations were easy flowing, the back and forth thrilling as long as at least one of them already had some article of clothing off, in the process of taking off more. After that, their words were stilted, as if they were two bugs stuck in a jar together, flitting around and skittish about what the other might hold in store for them.

Stolas knew rationally that Blitz was just fucking him because he was stuck on the ship with him, because of him, for as long as it took to reach Lust. Knew they were just fucking because Blitz was used to sleeping around and Stolas was just conveniently, and no doubt a very passionately eager, way to do that now.

Every time he felt like bringing up what was going on with them with the other man, he held his tongue and waved away the stupid urge, afraid Blitz might just stop their arrangement for good. This wasn’t all he wanted but it was still something. Being able to touch the man he had come to admire, being able to call him intimately even if only under certain circumstances, learning his body and how to make him feel as good as he did to him, Stolas told himself that it was all enough for now. Even if they didn’t really talk about anything else.

“Fuck. Stop it with the names. What if they slip out in front of the others?” Blitz ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back, and Stolas missed the white strands that Blitz dyed on usually.

“Oh,” he whispered to the floor, then stronger, “I—I didn’t realise that would bother you.”

It’s not like anybody on the ship was still clueless about what they got up to when they disappeared off together.

“Of course it would. I don’t want anyone thinking there’s something more to this,” Stolas knew, he knew what this was and they were adults, he would not cry over this, “You can keep using them when we’re fucking if it gets you off, but watch it, okay?”

Stolas dug a finger into a hole in the frayed bedsheet, ripping it further slightly, “You use nicknames for me too.”

“Well, they’re just fun ones, like ‘birdie’,” Blitz’s voice sounded from behind him, way too patronising, way too casual, “They don’t mean anything. I don’t call you ‘darling’.”

Stolas nodded, his throat seizing up with a held back sniffle at the word said back to him mockingly in a tone mimicking his own, moving to look around for his own clothes strewn all over.

He had been in quite a cheerful mood after the night before when they had made out on the crow’s nest and just ended up huddling together, not quite a cuddle. Blitz had pulled him up there when he wanted to look at the reddish dot he pointed out as Mars which had been closer to their planet and easily visible that night. He felt that drop and disappear into whichever pit in his mind his happy moods went every time.

“I will, then. Watch it, as you said. But, please, just get some sleep.”

“Ugh, fuck, alright,” Blitz made his way back to the messy bed, pulling off the sheet and throwing it to the side to wash it later, “If it gets you to stop nagging.”

Stolas dressed hurriedly, making to leave as he heard Blitz’s boots being dropped to the floor as Blitz fell onto the bed.

“Hey,” he heard the voice call from the bed and Stolas’ damned heart fluttered in his chest, “We might reach Envy soon and we I.M.P have something to do there. You and Via can have some time to explore, enjoy the day. Maybe even pick up some more books, or you’ll run out of creativity.”

Blitz wiggled his eyebrows but the way he was almost half asleep and tucked under his blanket just made him look adorable. Stolas huffed at him, rolling his eyes, as he left the man to rest.

As Stolas knocked on what had now become Octavia’s room on the ship and opened the door, he was greeted with twin pairs of raised eyebrows. Octavia and Loona were sitting opposite each other on the floor, Loona leaning back against the foot of the bed with an elbow resting on a bent knee and Octavia hunched over Stolas’ Grimoire between them, as well as a stack of other books that probably belonged to Loona pushed to one side.

Loona, as Stolas had come to learn from his daughter and Blitz, whenever he was in the mood to boast about his daughter, which would be quite often, had been taken into Blitz’s crew when she had been kicked out of an orphanage and into the streets of Gluttony after she came of age. Blitz had been doing odd jobs then, travelling between rings and absolutely despising taking orders from more well established assassin crews, when he came across the teenager who had almost bitten his fingers right off as he had tried to talk to her.

Owing her time at the orphanage, however rundown it may have been, Loona was also one of the more well-read members of I.M.P. She loved books, was used to snatching them off stalls when she could even as a child and stashing them up secretly in her cabin to try and read them through whenever she was alone and was sure there were no eyes on her. The only reason Stolas knew that was because she seemed to have opened up about her reading habit to Octavia, reluctantly agreeing while daring Stolas to judge her when Stolas had offered to teach her some more stuff, whatever she wanted, if she ever joined Octavia for their lessons.

Stolas wouldn’t let his daughter slack off on those, no matter how much he watched, proud but wary, as she turned more and more into someone who belonged right there with the pirates.

“What’re we learning today, dad?” His daughter piped up as she flipped through the Grimoire, much rougher than Stolas would handle it.

And Stolas was feeling tired of reality suddenly. He didn’t feel like talking about what stars were being studied and theorised to be made of, or what part of which plants could best cure an upset stomach without upsetting it even more, or what revolved around what else in their magnanimous expanse of the universe. He needed an escape, he needed stories and possibilities and a thirst like his own for the unknown and whatever could be in waiting and lurking in the suffocating and burning void of space. And he desperately needed someone else to share in those fascinations for a little while.

“How about some mythology for today?” Stolas watched Loona sit up, her arms stretched down over her crossed legs, and Octavia bobbed her head side to side curiously, “Something pertaining to the cosmos beyond any of our reach to perceive but a story we made for ourselves about what it could all mean just to pacify our curiosity. Have you heard of the stories behind the constellations? Vega and Altair and the great Celestial River that separates them, or the tale of Cygnus, the swan constellation and how it came to be, which one would you like to hear? Or maybe something about Azathoth’s tears?”

Oh, to be loved so deeply that even higher powers be forced to honour it despite their own displays of egos. Only death, the ultimate separation, that can rend a love apart, and grief and devotion to shared memories living on as the spirit of those who can rest assured that they are loved. And oh, to cry over all that never came to exist, to mourn the absence of what you yourself do not understand is amiss your whole life.

Those are the things Stolas would like to reflect on, he decided as he folded himself down beside the girls.

As they docked in Envy, the island run through and through with saltwater lakes and coarse and calm rivers, Stolas watched with a singleminded focus as a little girl ran around with a bucket, shrieking whenever the waves got too close to her on the beach beside the harbour. He came to when a tattered leather pouch was swung in front of his face, making him go cross eyed. He aimed a questioning stare at Blitz.

“Take it,” Blitz looked away, scowling, as he kept holding out the pouch, “It’s not much but I had snuck a couple of your shit before you left that time just to piss you off and pawned them off in Wrath.”

“Oh,” Stolas took the pouch in his palm, pulling the string open and blinked at the shine of metal coins inside, the first time he had thought about how much money he had in his hands after all these weeks, maybe his whole life, “You don’t have to—“

“Buy some clothes for yourselves, something of your own. Trust me, it helps a lot,” Blitz crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at the girl leaning over the side of the ship, pointing at seagulls, “Especially for Octavia, it’s sad watching her having to roll up whatever she steals from us. And whatever else you need, I guess. Moxxie will probably hand you over a list of shit the ship needs to restock on so you do that too. Try not to spend it all, it’s your money but a little savings goes a long fucking way. Also, make sure to haggle, never pay the full of whatever price they tell you first.”

“Haggle?” Stolas blinked down at the dark head, “What’s that?”

“Are you fucki—“ Blitz sighed, laughing shortly as he narrowed his eyes at Stolas, waving a pointed finger around as if he was teaching a great lesson, “Of course you don’t know what that is. It’s when the shopkeepers look at you and try to test how much you’re willing to pay for some basic shit but you go ‘uh-uh’ and negotiate the price as low as you can. Threaten them with leaving to find another vendor, that always gets them.”

“Why would I do that? I can just pay them what they ask, right?” Stolas was very confused, did people have to do that when they didn’t have money. He looked down at his handed down clothes and the small pouch in his hands, suddenly feeling like he might be acting too big for his current skin.

“Thank you, Blitz,” he said as Blitz opened his mouth to argue, probably call Stolas an uppity bitch again, “I’ll try my best.”

“Maybe I should just let Moxxie handle the ship stuff,” Blitz exhaled, running a palm down his face roughly and Stolas felt like if he had feathers, they would be ruffling up now. He could handle a little shopping. And haggling. He would make the vendors regret even naming a price of their own.

“Can we really not come with you all?” Octavia groaned from beside them and Stolas watched her walk up to Blitz with the same mirrored stance of crossed arms over her chest, “What’re you even going to be doing?”

“We’re running out of money, sweetie,” Blitz grinned toothily as Octavia rolled her eyes at that, “We haven’t taken any jobs or gotten paid in months. You were supposed to be our annual pays this year. You want to join us as we go looking for some easy jobs around here?”

“Absolutely not,” Stolas spoke up strictly before Octavia could open her mouth to reply, loosening her arms and looking excited at the offer. She grumbled at that, looking like Stolas had just rejected the stray puppy she had picked up and wanted to keep instead of not allowing her to kill people.

He turned to Blitz as the man blew a strand of white hair from over his eyes, “I didn’t know you were here for an assassination job.”

“We are if we manage to find one,” Blitz sighed yet again, the dark bags under his eyes prominent in the pleasant sunniness of the Envy weather, “There’s a striped horn tavern here too, we’re going to go look if they have any jobs we can finish by tomorrow before we leave.”

Loona walked over to them from where she had been tying up the sails and placed a hand on the still grumbling Octavia’s shoulder, “You just go sightseeing, okay? Let’s drop you off at the inn we’ll stay at for the night. It’s a really fun place.”

Octavia huffed, nodding in defeat.

The inn was nothing like Stolas had read in books or the ones he had sometimes stayed at while he had to travel over Solomon. Those were always charming little places, all vines growing artfully over walls, front lawns maintained, the light and warmth of lined up candles and lanterns and the quiet gossiping of the people who could afford them.

No, this inn was noisy and that was all he could take in as they were paraded up by Loona to their rooms to drop off their stuff. The rooms were small and musty and there was a layer of dust over every surface of whatever furniture was shoved into them. And the windows didn’t fucking open and haven’t for several years, it seemed. The walls were thin and Stolas wondered vaguely if any of them would get enough sleep if the loud ruckus from the pub downstairs would be a constant throughout.

The owner apparently owed I.M.P for a job they had done for her, her arm around a woman tending the bar as she welcomed the group, introducing the bartender as her wife in everything but on paper. Which was another thing about this inn hidden up within the nook of the city, the clientele in the pub were definitely…people that would make Stella fall over convulsing if she had been there.

Stolas chuckled in amusement at the image as he dodged two men engaged in what seemed like a fierce tongue battle as they fused themselves to each other and the wall as he made his way back downstairs from the rooms after having cleaned himself up.

“Blitz, Loona mentioned that they have only two rooms for us all?” Stolas tried not to run into other people as he made his way with all his gangly limbs towards where Blitz was stood talking to the owner.

“Oh shit, yeah,” Blitz looked over at the woman who shrugged at him before slinking away to the kitchen, “It’s a small place and that’s all they could do for today. And we don’t even have to pay any money here so we can’t really ask them to kick out paying customers. Me and Loonie used to just share a room with me taking the floor, real comfortable by the way. We can all adjust, right? It’s just for one night.”

Loona snorted from behind Stolas and he jumped at the quiet way the girl had snuck up on them, “We didn’t share. I took the room all to myself while you found another dumbass with a room to fuck.”

Blitz coughed pointedly and Stolas schooled his expressions into a blank one as Octavia joined them at that very moment, grimacing at catching the last part.

“Yeah, well,” Blitz’s eyes flickered between Stolas’ face and the tapping of his own boot on the floor, “We’re on business here. And we have to set off as early as possible tomorrow, so we all need the rest. You girls can take the bed and I’ll just steal some blankets and extra pillows from Mayberry for us, huh Stols?”

Millie walked by him trailing a hand on Stolas’ upper back to let him know her presence, having refreshed herself in the bathroom and changed into some dark clothes for the day. She looked between all of them with her pretty gap toothed smile as Blitz leant against the wooden bar counter, his gloved hands running circles over a scratch on the surface of it, “Oh, what’re we talking about? Blitz’s most embarrassing hook up stories?”

“No, Mills,” came the reply while Stolas tucked a stray hair behind Octavia’s ear as she finished tying her hair up in a bun from her ponytail and turned to see Blitz was still looking over at him and he had no idea why, “We’re never doing that. There are kids here. We were talking about how we four were going to adjust in one room for the night. Although, maybe,” he grinned and Millie rolled her eyes good-naturedly, as Moxxie marched over to them, tugging a heavy bag over his shoulders, “I can definitely share with you two. What do you say, Mox?”

Blitz cackled as Moxxie’s shoulders bunched up and red erupted under his freckles at that, “Never happening, sir! What happened to there are kids here?”

Millie laughed gleefully at her husband and best friend’s antics and Blitz turned to Stolas, as if waiting for him to say something. Oh right, he had asked him something.

“Of course, Blitz,” Stolas replied, forcing a smile as Blitz waved off Moxxie’s finger pointed in his face, still muttering under his breath, “We can adjust for one night.”

“No funny business, though,” Loona whistled, examining her nails and pulling her shirt over her belt to hide the knife attached to it as she left through the swinging wooden door of the pub.

“Yes, I agree on that,” Octavia shut her darkly lined eyes and sighed, the ever suffering.

“No funny—get back here, Loonie,” Blitz shook a fist around as he made to dash after his daughter and Stolas giggled at the way he waddled over to the door.

“Will you really be done by nightfall?” He asked the shorter couple beside him who were hauling up bags clanking with sounds of guns and blades, Millie’s axe glaringly absent as she had chosen to leave it behind on the ship.

“Oh yes,” Moxxie smiled at him, his voice much friendlier now, “Blitz is frustrating but he’s really good at leading on these jobs. We get done in a few hours. We’ll meet you two later then?”

Millie squeezed Octavia’s arm, gaining her attention from where she was heedlessly staring at some loud yelling coming from the kitchen, “Just be careful, okay? Try not to piss anyone off and remember, if your instincts are telling you that you’re being followed or in danger, run for it. Come back here. The owners of this place are extremely capable of handling things.”

Stolas felt a phantom flare of pain around his throat where Striker had almost squeezed his windpipe shut and shuddered involuntarily.

“Yes, of course. Um, stay safe too, I suppose.”

As they separated on a street, the I.M.P crew flocking off to make their way to the tavern, Stolas scrunched his face up curiously at the way Blitz gave the both of them a lingering glance as Loona dragged him away behind M&M, something wistful within it that was gone as fast as it had appeared.

“Where should we go first?” Stolas looked down at his daughter’s question and followed her line of sight to where she was deeply enamoured and gaping at a vendor sitting around with jars of preserved spiders and other bugs on display.

“Over there, I’m guessing,” Stolas might as well indulge the girl at least once. He huffed as Octavia pumped a fist with a quiet “Yes!” and made to run over, “Then we buy some clothes.”

Octavia tugged on the shirt she had borrowed from one of the crew that was one-two sizes too big for her, tucking it securely into the waistband Blitz had sewn tight for her and yes, his daughter could definitely benefit from some well-fitting clothes.

Then she shouted a “Fuck yes!” uncaring of the way people around them gave her a dirty look at the loud exclamation and Stolas laughed at the way the pirates’ demeanours had definitely rubbed off on her.

While he nodded his head at any clothes his daughter’s fingers stalled on for a moment longer than others, encouraging her to add them to the ridiculous pile of clothes her face had been hidden behind, Octavia pushed him towards a section in the small dusty shop with clothes that would probably fit him.

“Get something for yourself, too, dad. Blitz said we could.”

So Stolas ignored the way he wanted to reassure her that he was fine, he could do with whatever they had on the ship, and bought a few essentials. A few more longer shirts with wide enough collars the way he had started preferring them for a while now, longer breeches and slacks, and as he walked by a section where a couple of women where browsing the clothes, he felt his gaze catch on a dark purple blouse with a high ruffled collar.

It had cheaply done embroidery of black roses and thorny vines running down the front, back and over the shoulders in a tasteful manner, not too much, not too little, and three gold painted buttons ran down below the collar, mostly for show. It was daringly sheer wherever the embroidery did not cover up the fabric, the sleeves flowing down like purple silky waterfalls, broadening out at the ends. He had always been fascinated by the variety of eccentric patterns and colours clothing made for women provided in contrast to the dull, earthy and practical designs expected to be worn by men like him. His fingers moved to touch his wrist where the last bruises left by Stella had long faded away.

“Do you want that one, dad?” Octavia came up to him and whispered, blocking the view from the women behind her.

“I—I—I shouldn’t, it’s too—“ Stolas giggled, too high and fake, as he turned away, “I definitely shouldn’t—how would I even take it up to the counter?”

Octavia rolled her eyes to such an extent that Stolas was afraid they would get stuck to the roof of her eyes, picking the blouse off from where it hung, adding it to the pile in her hands, “You think too much. Are you done, or do you want something else? I want to try out some of the food being sold by the vendors we passed by.”

Stolas covered his face with the small pile in his hands and choked out, “No, let’s just pay and go.”

Stolas did keep Blitz’s haggling advice in mind, he did try. But if he had to glare at the owner when he gave Octavia a pinched look as she placed the blouse along with her choice of shirts and pants down and muttered “Really? You’ll let your daughter wear that?” and had flung the money at him with a “Here’s a good business tip, maybe keep your thoughts to yourself” as Octavia giggled behind a palm, well, Stolas could do that much for his sweet Starfire.

They made their way back to the inn by sundown, clutching onto the bags of goods they had bought both for themselves and the ship, their bellies full from snacking on street food all day. They kept their heads down as the streets darkened and more and more people began to loiter conveniently around narrow alleys.

Blitz and the team hadn’t yet returned it seemed as they swung the door inwards and decided to trudge upstairs to their rooms and check out the things they had bought while they waited for them.

“Oh, hey, it’s the tall drink of water,” the owner’s wife, Martha, piped up as they entered the pub. She was wiping down the bar counter, probably preparing for her dinner crowd, “You two had fun round our little city?”

“Yes, thank you for asking, Martha,” Stolas bowed his head in greeting, “It’s a lovely place. So is your inn. You have made a good living.”

“Yeah, you’ll definitely feel right at home here,” Martha winked at him, pausing in her cleaning, and Stolas really had to find out what exactly it was about him, “Feels like just yesterday that I came here to blow a hole into my wife’s head after she had sent Blitz and his team to kill me and my then husband, who was also her ex-husband, but it was a good thing all considered.”

“Excuse me?” Stolas stopped in his tracks and so did Octavia from where she had been cheerfully skipping her way towards the stairs.

“Yeah, it was a whole thing,” Martha laughed, oblivious to the way the two were slack jawed, “but it’s all behind us now. Shame about the kids, though.”

“Kids? They killed kids?” Stolas watched Octavia wince as he blurted that out.

“Oh no, not them,” Stolas really felt the relief in the breath he let out, “The local lawmen set fire to our house when they found out about the human skin furniture.”

“Oh, haha,” Stolas shifted nervously on his feet as Martha grinned and bared her canines at him, looking him over, “We should—we should get some rest. Long day.”

“Sure thing, sweet,” Martha winked at him as she picked up a mug and tipped it towards him, wiping the inside of it.

Stolas exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as he closed the room door behind it, locking it for good measure. This is what Blitz did, the kind of people he associated with? He had thought they had good reasons for people wanting the targets they were assassinating dead but just over these menial things too? They were criminals, weren’t they? Stolas seemed to have forgotten all about it.

“Don’t think too much about it, dad,” Octavia dropped the bag on the bed, dropping herself on it soon after as well, “We know them. We have spent a shit ton of time with them, that’s who they are.”

It might seem that simple to a child, after all.

“Then why try to distract us while they do their jobs? Oh, fuck, are they killing another family as we speak?” Stolas pulled distractedly at his hair, his breaths coming out heavy.

“Dad, shut up,” Octavia sat up, hunching over but despite her words, Stolas could see the doubt creeping into her eyes too, “Not like you were complaining much when you two were fucking.”

“Via,” Stolas scolded her, without any heat behind his words, grabbing at his chest, “Why are they friends with a…did she imply she was possibly a cannibal?”

“Because favours, dad,” Octavia pushed the heel of her palms into her eyes, then opened up her bag and took out the jar of toad limbs she had somehow procured, “Listen, they could have done a lot of bad shit to us if they wanted to. But they chose to protect us against that ugly-moustached fucker. You have got to know by now that some people have to do some shit to survive the way they do, they’re just doing the best they can.”

“Of course. I understand,” Stolas sighed, making his way to the bed, and when had he bitten off a nail to the skin, “Do you think they would agree if we asked them to settle down in Lust with us? We could all figure out a way to make an honest living and not have to do these unsavoury things again?”

That definitely came out of nowhere, not like he had been thinking about that for a while now.

Octavia blinked at him, her fingers freezing up over the jar, “We’re going to Lust?”

Oh, shit.

“Yes—yes—like we had always planned to. Did I forget to mention—I must have. I could get an audience with Asmodeus, explain our situation. I’m sure he’ll allow us to settle there.”

“Okay, dad,” Octavia shoved the jar back into the bag, pulling the strings tying it up and putting it down to the floor carefully, “You should probably talk to Blitz about it sometime then.”

His daughter lay down, turning over so her back was to him. And that was the thing, wasn’t it? Blitz and him didn’t talk. Not about shit like this.

Stolas went to sit by the lone chair in the corner of the room, sinking deep into thought until he was startled by stomps comings up the stairs and a loud pounding at their door when the knob didn’t turn.

Stolas got up hurriedly as Octavia bolted up wide awake from where she had almost fallen into a slumber. He scurried over to the door, unlocking and opening it, and had barely a moment to take in the bruises and blood and mud that covered the pair in front of him before Blitz shoved him aside to make his way into the room.

“Are you alrig—“

Stolas flinched as Blitz walked straight into the bathroom without acknowledging them and slammed the door shut after him.

Loona walked in, not particularly less riled up but definitely a bit more calm, “Job went wrong for a bit before we took care of it.”

Octavia got out of bed and ran her eyes all over the blood splattered on Loona’s lower half of face and the front of her coat, her knuckles bruised and cracked where she had them curled by her sides.

“We’re fine,” she said as Octavia opened her mouth, moving her hair out of her eyes carefully with blood-stained fingers and frowning, “Got paid in full at least. Fuck, I need a drink. A strong fucking one.”

She stretched her back and her spine cracked in several places, concerning Stolas, as she went to lie on the bed, “You two go on downstairs. Order some food for all of us, will you? We’ll come down after washing up.”

“Blitz—“

“Look, man,” Loona spoke in the way too silent room, there had been no sound from the bathroom since Blitz had stormed in there, “Just don’t ask, okay? He’ll shake it off pretty soon. Just go. Via, get some food and I’ll tell you everything sometime later.”

Stolas wanted to argue because why would nobody tell him anything but stopped as the heard the sound of a fist making contact with the wall from the bathroom. He could talk to Blitz, make sure he’s alright, he could—he could—

What could he do?

Stolas slumped his head down and nodded as he took Octavia’s loosely curled hands and pulled her out the door, shutting it softly behind them.

The married couple were the first to come down as Stolas nursed a drink and Octavia stuffed herself with some roast chicken, the dinner special as he had been told, and the only meat that had no chance of remotely being human.

Stolas raised an eyebrow at a broad shouldered man sitting by their table raising his drink at him and winking and looked past him to take in the pair muttering with their heads together. They looked their same light-hearted selves, Millie wrapping an arm around Moxxie as they made their way towards them, her face just slightly more bruised up than when they had left.

Stolas waited until they sat down, flagging the lone harried server down to order their food and choice of drinks, his eyes flitting back to the staircase.

“So…what happened?”

Millie squinted, scrutinising him as she sat down, “Nothing much, Stolas. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

“But—“

“Our target, Rolando, turned out to be a bit more competent than we had thought,” Moxxie said, flopping his upper body down onto the table, knowing Stolas well enough by now that he wouldn’t leave it alone until his questions were answered, “Blitz was tailing him by himself. When we got there, he had Blitz tied up in some abandoned ware, trying to torture him.”

“Was saying some nasty shit to him too, seemed to affect Blitz a whole lot even though he’s usually so unfazed by such situations,” Millie glared at her husband pointedly, “Not that we should talk about it. Blitz can talk about it when he wants to, Stolas.”

“He never wants to,” Stolas felt his voice quiver as those words left his lips against his will, his grip on his fork tightening and Octavia glanced over at him, worried, “No, never mind. I was being silly. I will ask him when he’s ready.”

“Oh, baby,” Millie moved forward, pushing her newly acquired mug of beer to the side, as she squeezed his other hand reassuringly, “You do that. Now let’s enjoy our night, shall we?”

Loona joined them a few moments later, having taken her coat off, her face washed and bloodless, her eyes lined as heavily as always. She had gathered up all her hair and tied it in a high ponytail and it swished around as she came over.

“Ugh, I’m starving. Get me some food. Now,” she whined, pushing off another customer off his chair beside her as she turned it to their table and sat.

Stolas couldn’t concentrate on his food or his second drink, or whatever curses the guy Loona had taken the chair from was throwing before Loona dangled her table knife from her finger threateningly, up until the familiar broad shouldered figure came thundering down the stairs. His face was now cleared of the grime and blood but still bruised up, his hair pushed back fully and now in just a black high necked shirt, his signature coat no where to be seen.

He didn’t seem to be buzzing with anger anymore, just looked like someone very likely to punch anyone in the face if they stood in his way. He smirked as he joined them, the look in his eyes just a bit strained, pushing Moxxie off his seat. His “Fuck off” as Moxxie spewed insults at him and looked for another chair was not carrying the usual enjoyment at Moxxie’s frustration.

“Oh, you have to see the preserved specimens I got today. I found this very rare spider only found in the deep forests of Gluttony, its venom is very useful in making medicine,” Octavia was rambling, trying to break the tension that had settled over the table as they all kind of checked over Blitz and Stolas brought his focus back onto the joy in her voice again as she gestured around.

“Of course you would find the weird shit, kid,” Blitz laughed at her and Stolas felt the collective relief of the whole table. Maybe he did think too much.

But Blitz was avoiding any eye contact with him, instead at one point just turning his chair all the way around from where he sat opposite Stolas to survey the crowded room as he almost chugged his second glass of cheap beer, his head turned towards a thin-figured man with blond hair who was slouching at the bar making eyes his way. Stolas gripped his fourth glass of warm rum close to him with both hands.

As the conversation went on around him, Stolas could feel a sort of resignation settle as Blitz laughed around with their daughters, joked around with his friends but didn’t even spare him one single glance. Not even a word. He gulped down his drink, the warmth going down his throat doing nothing for the cold setting into his nerves in a very familiar way. He had known that feeling his whole life almost. The anticipation of how a person would try and hurt him next because he just wasn’t enough for them.

“Whoop, okay,” Blitz declared suddenly, putting the glass down heavily and taking the last bite of chicken from Octavia’s plate, sticking his tongue out at her indignant “Hey!”, “Gotta go get some stress relieved now. Don’t wait up for me.”

Stolas watched, his mind shutting down as Blitz pushed himself from his chair with a muttered curse as it squeaked too loudly and without turning around, marched right up to the guy at the bar, pulling him down by the back of his neck in a open mouthed kiss.

As the pair made their way up the stairs, Martha whistling at them, Stolas waited to hear the sound of disgust and groans from their daughters at the display like they would usually react but all he could hear past the ringing in his ears was silence. His face heated up, the blood rush making him almost nauseous, as he noticed all the eyes at their table had turned towards him with various looks of pity and concern, the only exception being Octavia who just muttered a furious “ass” under her breath.

“Haha,” Stolas forced himself to break the silence, “Well, uh—well—“

“You could find someone too, Stols,” Millie threw out to Stolas’ shock, casually sipping her drink, “If it’s nothing serious, then you could always do the same.”

“Oh—uh,” he could, his eyes landed again on the guy beside them who met his eyes as he looked over but he jumped in his chair as Octavia threw her utensils on her empty plate making them clatter, a displeased look on her face.

He decided against it. He would rather remember this day for the fun time he had with her rather than end it on an impulsive action fueled by bitterness alone.

“No, no, I don’t—“ Stolas leant back on his chair, staring up at the ceiling, “I’m feeling a bit tired. I’ll just retire for the night. You all continue, you need it.”

He couldn’t get that scarred, handsome face and that heart tattoo he had memorised by tracing it over whenever he could, and the whispers of “pretty birdie” and safe, warm touches, and now, the newly risen hurt taking root all over his ribs making it difficult for him to take in full breaths, out of his head long enough to pay attention to some random person anyways.

As he walked into their room, reminding himself to ignore any sounds that he had been expecting might come from any other rooms down the small corridor, he noticed there was no extra blankets or pillows for him that they had decided on in the morning.

Sighing, he walked back out to see if he could ask Martha for some so he could get some sleep he knew he absolutely wouldn’t be getting, lurching to a stop as a door was flung open two rooms down and the familiar figure stomped out of it, cursing at the person inside, “I told you I changed my mind, fucker. Who the fuck names their kid Dennis anyways?”

Blitz slammed the door shut on whatever reply came from inside, his hair falling out of place and his shirt falling open at the collar. He looked over at Stolas standing frozen with a hand on the knob of his door and pinched his knitted brows with two fingers. Stolas rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath, and moved to go downstairs.

“Hey,” Blitz’s voice came out way more subdued and gentle than Stolas had ever heard the man sound, as if Stolas had reproached him in any way, “Stolas, look—“

“You don’t have to explain anything, Blitz. You did make it quite clear that you only ever were interested in fucking me, there’s nothing to say here.”

“I wasn’t the only one interested in just fuc—“ Stolas’ shoulders rose defensively at the sudden anger in the voice behind him. How dare he. Hadn’t Stolas made it clear to him that he did want to spend more time with him outside of fucking?

Had he?

“Stolas.”

Stolas clenched his jaw, “What? You still have plenty of time to find someone else, don’t you? Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Look at me, birdie,” Stolas didn’t really need to. He could just walk away and find some stupid blankets and pillows that they were supposed to share and just wrap them around himself and go to sleep like the pathetic fucking—

He turned and looked and Blitz half-smiled as he looked back. Took his time to look, from straight into his eyes and blatantly moving the gaze down to his toes and Stolas had to blush at the boldness of it. Fuck his conditioned responses.

“You want to go find someplace else for the night with me?”

Stolas was extremely embarrassed at himself at the speed with which he whispered back a “Yes.”

Chapter Text

Something was wrong with Blitz. He shouldn’t be finding everyone else unfuckable now. He shouldn’t be so uninterested at the thought of fucking someone else. This was bad. Very bad.

Because why had he been in that guy’s room and looking down at him, all of a sudden disappointed at the lack of easy flustering and squirming around at his touches, and soft, broken whines of ‘Blitzy’s, gushing about how good Blitz made him feel, and pleas for more with that too trusting gaze directed at him.

Why had dragging Stolas to find the closest inn with an available room to get that disheartened look off his face the first thing that had come to his mind, that he was absolutely sure he needed to be doing?

It’s just because he was very responsive, that had to be it. Fucking the prince was the most invested in sex Blitz had been for a long, long time, the most effort he was putting in, something about the guy making him want to show off.

Or that’s what he explained to himself the next morning as they left Envy, shrinking in on himself at the glares their daughters sent towards him.

Okay, what he did was probably an asshole thing to do in front of everyone but they weren’t in a relationship or anything so why couldn’t he. He thought Stolas was fine with that. And he had been feeling a bit shaken up at being captured by that mouthy psychopath during their job, so sue him for making bad decisions.

Except Blitz had felt the hatred he felt for himself overflow that day and had asked Stolas if he wanted to fuck Blitz for a change so Blitz could feel as shitty as possible when he would see in such a vulnerable position just how uncaring Stolas was, how much he saw Blitz as just a toy, and Stolas could feel good after the dumb mistake Blitz had made and use him as he liked.

Except, except, Stolas didn’t fucking do that. He showered Blitz with tender kisses and encouragement as Blitz trembled and twisted at the long fingers opening him up gently the way he had taught them to. Except Stolas had murmured a soothing “Let me take care of you, darling” as his breath ghosted over Blitz’s forehead, stroking his hair back and swallowing up his moans with a lengthy kiss before Blitz had finally had enough and pushed him off to straddle him and ride his dick until they were both back to their senses and their filthy words.

They had been back on the ship for weeks now and were not making any more stops until they reached Lust so it wasn’t like Blitz had any more chances at making Stolas’ daughter think he wasn’t an asshole who was breaking her father’s heart, or whatever kids believed adults did.

And after they reached Lust, Blitz could just put this all behind him and go back to how his days had been before these two were dropped into his life. Okay, before he kidnapped them.

No more high and mighty princes that wanted a saviour, that Blitz would have to rescue and fuck while he escaped into whatever little fantasy he was making up that day because Blitz was too fucking sure nobody could be that enthusiastic about fucking him.

It had to be the idea of getting dicked down rough the way he must have been wanting to his whole life by a pirate or a highway robber or stablehand or whatever the fuck he was imagining Blitz to be any particular moment. It was just someone playing out their repressed years, he would get bored of Blitz soon enough.

And speaking of the day that Stolas would move on from their little crew and pirate adventures, they were getting closer to Lust and would be arriving any day, if the cold winds of a rapidly approaching winter stayed by their sails.

Things had been pretty somber since Envy. Octavia seemed to be avoiding Stolas, not even bothering the rest of them with her eagerness to learn about their lives, just kind of shutting herself in her room whenever she could.

Stolas had been moping around too, the way he always brightened up at their paperwork or lessons with their daughters also having disappeared these days. He didn’t do much, would drag his feet around everywhere groaning, his head hung low and soulless eyes on a pale face. He would just sit around and stare at the sea for hours like he was their own personal ghost haunting the ship, withdrawn and seemingly faraway, until someone called his name and brought him back to reality.

Blitz shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care about whatever had happened between Stolas and Octavia, he shouldn’t care that Loona’s temper was shorter and she was growlier towards him more than usual again, he shouldn’t care that Millie looked a bit disappointed in him, not that she tried to show it but Blitz hadn’t known her for so long to not be able to read that normally expressive woman like the books he never read. Shit, maybe not the best comparison.

Anyways, he shouldn’t care that his friend was giving him looks he didn’t want to understand, and he didn’t care that Moxxie was still a little bitch who was almost oblivious to all of it. Or maybe getting some satisfaction at Blitz finally feeling like the asshole he had always thought him to be.

The atmosphere on the ship had turned so heavy and suffocating as if the whole of it and its inhabitants were sunk to the bottom of the seas instead of always floating on it, and he didn’t care.

But Stolas had sat at dinner with his head resting on a palm, pushing his food around and sending miserable looks at his daughter as she shovelled down her food as always and walked off as fast as she could. So Blitz had asked Millie to take lookout duty for the night and knocked on the door to his cabin where he knew the prince would be shuffling around, always thinking about something or the other. Blitz needed the rest anyway, he had been taking the guard almost every night after Envy.

Blitz had overlooked the ropes and the leather and the whips as Stolas undressed, just pulling him down on top of him and holding his sad little face, which had no more traces of being roughed up from Wrath, between his hands, nuzzling his cheeks with his nose and planting small kisses all along the jaw until Stolas had gotten out of his head and relaxed his full weight on Blitz, fluttering his eyelids shut.

He had moaned out a “More, Blitz” at him and Blitz had just growled a “Come on, call me Blitzy, you know you want to” before he could think twice. He lay down Stolas on his back and allowed him to take his fill of whatever he always seemed to want to look at on Blitz’s face while locking his arm behind Blitz’s head, caressing the hairs at his nape, their lips moving against each other leisurely every few seconds. The most normally they had fucked since they started this…arrangement, or whatever it was.

Blitz wouldn’t be caught doing this shit ever again, too afraid he might get used to it because fuck it, it had felt nice. And it had been worth it to watch the guy ease up after and melt into the bed. Blitz had sat beside him after, pulling the blanket over them both, pretending not to notice the shock on Stolas’ pretty features at Blitz not immediately leaving. He stroked the guy’s hair, now just a tiny bit coarse with all the months spent being sprayed by sea breeze, as he shifted closer hesitantly and wrapped his arms around Blitz’s middle, sighing contentedly.

So Blitz could fulfill his fantasy of a more gentle lover too, that was good to know. There you go, he wasn’t that much of an asshole.

A few hours later and Blitz was still unable to sleep, his eyes grazing over the expanse of the porcelain back bathed in the moonlight coming from the window of his room as Stolas had turned in his sleep facing away from Blitz, snores sounding more like soft hoots.

His eyes stopped on a jagged scar on the upper back near the junction of his right shoulder and arm. It was a sizeable scar, the skin around it healed and gaining back its natural colour, the edges of it upraised and slightly darker, and the scars line itself much, much lighter in colour, almost white as it caved inwards. He had noticed it before, didn’t really care to ask about it.

He watched as his own fingers made their way up lightly from the curve of the lower back, tickling the length of his spine as Stolas’ back muscles jumped and he let out another hoot-like sound. His fingers moved over the scar, feeling the raised edges and he couldn’t remove it fast enough as he heard a stuttered gasp and Stolas turned to look at him over his shoulder, way too awake. A downcast look had taken over his drooping eyes, making the dark bags deeper. He looked exhausted and shit, didn’t Blitz do all that to not see that for tonight at least.

“There was a time, just once,” Stolas looked right into his eyes, assessing, as Blitz continued to trace over the scar, “when I talked back to Stella after a party, calling her out on the way she talked about me to her friends and in public and how she would feel if I started doing the same. That was one of the worst rampages she had gone on. She pushed me into a cupboard where we kept out ‘best china’,” Stolas laughed self deprecatingly, “I got a lot of cuts from that but this one broken shard of crockery just got stuck in there.”

Oh shit, when Blitz had asked Stolas all those months ago how bad it had been for him to just up and leave, he didn’t expect that. The scar was so old, how long had it been like that? Why was Blitz even fucking with this right now?

“I bled a lot,” Blitz forced himself not to shrink away as Stolas put his own hand over Blitz’s where he had covered the mark, “Could feel my arm going numb. I was afraid it would get horribly infected or I—I might lose it, so I asked for someone to look at it. The doctor came and took care of it but asked too many questions for Stella’s liking. Octavia was only three at that time and cried when she noticed the blood soaked bandages while I was changing them one day,” he tightened his grip over Blitz’s hand, as if anchoring himself despite the detached, blank expression, “I begged Stella to not be so obvious again, if only for Via’s sake. She agreed because she didn’t want the doctor to be repeatedly called and spread any rumours. That was the last time she did something that left a wound that didn’t heal up in a few days.”

Fuck. Fuck. Blitz curled his other fist, suddenly wanting to know what that bitch looked like just so he could picture that face clearly while he cooked up the most creative ways to murder her.

“Fuck, Stolas,” Blitz removed his hand and Stolas turned onto his back, looking at the ceiling, contemplative, “No wonder you made a run for it. I don’t blame you at all for that.”

Who the fuck just decides it’d be okay to be so cruel just for some sort of a sick feeling of power at the way someone learned to cower at them, unable to escape them? Who the fuck thinks it’d be okay to just take away someone’s sense of safety and trust like that? Blitz could even admit that he didn’t deserve it when his father did it to him, but Stolas as he had known him all this while definitely did not deserve this.

“I was a coward.”

Yeah, no. Blitz was not running from this conversation.

“You did what you thought you could. I see it now. And trust me, I know something about running away from my problems.”

“You do, huh?” Stolas rolled his eyes, turning sideways to look at him fondly, “I’ve never noticed.”

“Shut up, motherfucker,” Blitz snorted at the way Stolas scrunched his nose at him as he pulled the blanket up higher.

“I know it’s ugly to look at. Stella reminded me enough when she laughed at it every time she looked at it.”

“Come on, birdie, don’t tell me you’re going to believe the shit your bitchy wife told you. You’re too smart for that,” Blitz had no idea how the man in front of him would think of himself that way when he was way too good to be sleeping around with him, “and you’re not actually saying that to someone covered in ugly scars right now.”

“No, Blitz, you’re,” Stolas moved to sit up, the blanket falling to his waist as he hurriedly made to touch Blitz’s face, letting his hand hover at the last moment, “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think your scars are ugly. I don’t think you’re—“

“Yeah, you don’t have to lie to me with your honey sweet words,” Blitz waved his hand dismissively, turning his head away and Stolas’ hand dropped to his lap, “It’s been a while, I’ve gotten used to them. Anyways, scars are reminders of what you’ve lived through, right? You see yours and remind yourself what an absolute bitch that woman is and how bad you had it with her any time you feel like you’re forgetting it. And I look at mine and get reminded—“

Of what a failure I am. How I ruin everybody, make everything worse. How everyone would be better off without me because I can’t love anybody without hurting them. Without killing—

Blitz was horrified as a choked sob escaped his lips from where he had swallowed them back for years as a very familiar face sprung up in his mind, those kind eyes burning out of their sockets as they looked at him in pain and fear. He could only sit frozen as his tears flowed freely, the saltiness seeping into his mouth as ugly noises left his lips, the emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for months having lined up, begging for release.

“Oh, darling,” and fuck this stupid guy for the way that made his heartbeat falter because he didn’t deserve to be called that, and the sobs came out louder at that, his body heaving with the effort of letting them out, “Come here.”

Stolas pulled him into his embrace, wiping away at his cheeks with the back of his palm, and Blitz went, his body willing and his mind too preoccupied to start its bullshit. He tucked his head under Stolas’ chin, barely registering the always soft, melodic words of comfort and fingers carding through his hair and arms wrapping around him tight, when he focused on the loud heartbeat under him as his sobs quieted down to just whimpers and tears that would not stop leaking out.

“Whatever happened, Blitz, I know you’re not the person you have made yourself believe you are.”

Blitz watched the drops fall onto the chest he was curled into.

I have fooled you then.

You would hate me, if you knew.

But just for this time, Blitz could allow himself to selfishly believe that that was not true.

He shut his mind off, drained, and burrowed further into Stolas as he pulled the blanket up over Blitz’s shoulders, the floral scent Stolas had taken to wearing after Envy growing stronger in the space between them, and let someone tell him this once that everything will be okay.

That had been a moment of vulnerability Blitz hadn’t planned on and that he definitely could not afford to be seen in again.

As he had noiselessly fled out of bed the next morning, he felt the intense feeling of regret and humiliation at having broken down like that in the arms of the guy who had just wanted to fuck him. The guy had been emotionally exhausted himself, he had gone through some shit, was still going through it. He had seen Blitz’s pain and felt like he was obligated to console him after Blitz had tried doing the same. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

So, he didn’t bring it up again and he never tried that gentle shit again, going back to scowling at the nicknames and steering clear of him whenever he could until his dick wanted some. Which wasn’t really a rare thing and Stolas definitely hadn’t picked up the hints that all that happened that night was a one time thing, not discouraged by Blitz’s outer prickliness too much anymore.

Sooner than was enough time in Blitz’s mind, they were docking in Lust.

The city was way more colourful now than Blitz had remembered the last time he had been here, long ago when he was still fucking that travelling performer, Verosika. Ugh, he doesn’t want to think about that, hopefully she had left the city.

They passed by all these people engaged in street performances, people in various extravagant outfits walking around them, enjoying and frolicking and shit at the last of the sun before the winter set in, as they made their way to the city square from the harbour. A small stage was set up there and theatre actors from a traveling caravan rehearsed beside it, couples and friends alike in merriment all over the square. And yet the air of gloom surrounding their own little group didn’t dissipate.

Stolas had wanted to meet King Asmodeus, the ruler of the island who was known far and wide for being weak for staying away from the conflicts of other royals and his unmatched mechanical invention skills that he used to make products for his subjects instead of weapons of war. Whatever, Blitz had thought the guy was pretty cool compared to other uptight royals but what would he know, not like he could ever talk to him personally.

But Blitz had to blink at the realisation that Stolas absolutely could just do that. Somehow he had kept associating the guy with someone who play squabbles around with Millie and speaks big words with Moxxie as they keep passing documents between them; The guy who teaches Loona and Octavia about languages and sciences, and poetry when the girls could stop sniggering long enough at Blitz gagging whenever he sat beside them doodling while they had their lessons; The guy who laughs genuinely at Blitz’s jokes and cries prettily as he calls Blitz mean when Blitz denies him release again and again; who also gets distracted with his fucking stars on his first night watch, talking about them for hours just because Blitz had sat next to him without telling him to stop.

He had almost forgotten Stolas was a prince with a shit ton of power. Almost.

Stolas insisted on going to Asmodeus’ palace alone, scurrying off towards the huge palace in the distance, leaving them all to entertain themselves around the city until he returned.

Blitz kept an eye on the rest of his team, along with Octavia, as he sat near a shop, lighting up a smoke, and felt a strange sense of loss settling in that he had never felt before. And fuck, he knew loss.

But as he watched Moxxie flutter around the probably terrible amateur actors, bothering them with his unprompted takes about plays and watched Millie with a lovesick look on her face aimed at her husband from where she was picking up and looking at a new pair of boots, he felt something irritate the firm, indifferent surface of his heart he had honed and polished over for years, sticking out like a jagged outgrowth.

He looked towards where Octavia was trying to balance along the thin boundary of the fountain in the centre, balancing a book that Loona had just bought, or possibly nicked from an unsuspecting vendor, on her head, challenging Loona to do better than her after she almost toppled into the fountain. And as he saw his daughter mess up the neat ponytail the younger girl was sporting by petting her head, both of them playfully shoving at each other, Blitz crushed the smoke under his boots as a long forgotten longing replaced the ash in his lungs.

How long ago was it that he had hoped to have a family of his own? And he had thought he had found something close to it when his I.M.P team was complete. Loona was his daughter even if it wasn’t recognised on paper anywhere and M&M were his closest friends.

There was a time at the beginning when everything had been so uncertain and rocky between them all and Blitz had waited every night to see if all of them would still put up with his bullshit and stick around till the next morning. As years went by, that paralysing fear lessened somewhat but it stuck around like something instinctual.

Only when the two Goetia had stepped onto their ship and stuck around as well, fitting in like they belonged there, strutting around Blitz’s ship like it was their own, helping them out any way they could, that Blitz had felt that familiar fear rise up again. He wanted them to stick around and fuck, if the entire situation wasn’t so shitty, if they weren’t fucking royalty, Blitz would have asked them to. He would have tried.

Loona and Octavia got along so well like they had always grown up like sisters despite the huge difference in their upbringing. The younger Goetia was a good kid, she matched Blitz’s quips like a champ and Blitz looked forward to the nights she silently joined him while he was on lookout and they both sketched random shit until she felt sleepy enough. Loona was not as open with Stolas as she was with his daughter but he could tell she respected the way Stolas never looked down on her smarts like she knew all high class bastards to do. She appreciated his expertise at being snarky but also that he knew when to pull back against her jabs, never giving her the fight he knew she still always expected. It had thrown her off, it had thrown all of them off.

And as for him and Stolas…

Blitz got up and brushed dirt off the back of his coat as he made his way towards their daughters. The fuck was he sitting around like an idiot reminiscing in broad daylight about those two for. They were cargo, they had always been just cargo. Hopefully Stolas was pleased enough with their handling that he wouldn’t complain about any of it to his father and get them all punished.

He was just buying the girls a bunch of pendants with strange witchy symbols that had caught the attention of their deranged little minds when Stolas had found them at almost mid-day. At the silent question in Blitz’s eyes, he had nodded with a small smile, quirking his eyebrow at the girls still studying and discussing the symbols as Blitz shrugged.

“Everything went well. Asmodeus has invited us all to his pub tomorrow night for dinner and drinks, free of charge. Isn’t that lovely?” Stolas chirped, his hands clasped together to his chest joyfully, closing his eyes in relief as Octavia responded with a hesitant smile.

That did sound lovely. They could probably stay another day in Lust, get some rest from the sea travel. And he wouldn’t turn down free food and alcohol.

It did sound lovely if it wouldn’t be the last time Blitz would see the two them. It seemed like Stolas had gotten Asmodeus’ approval to stay in Lust. Maybe he should get drunk today and find someone else to fuck just to get it out of his system, this weird attachment his dick seems to have to Stolas.

M&M were pretty excited at the idea of being invited to a royal’s tavern and they spent the rest of the day finding something suitable to wear for themselves. When the girls started looking around for outfits as well, Stolas insisted Blitz find something for himself too and yeah, maybe he didn’t want to be seen with a scruffy, rugged low class scum like him in front of another royal.

As the girls tried on what they chose, Loona surprisingly going for skirt in red and black shyly, her eyes flitting around as if the three of them would laugh at her for that, and Octavia pleading her father to get her the long purple coat with stars and crescent moons stitched onto it.

Stolas took Blitz around the fancier than they could probably afford shop, but apparently Asmodeus had given Stolas a token and told him to flaunt it around to get whatever they needed. He had an arm looped around Blitz’s, pointing at different pieces of clothing, asking him if he wanted any of that. The clothes in Lust were definitely way more unique compared to other rings, the vivid colours and sequins and flimsy fabrics that Blitz couldn’t help but run his fingers over. He smirked as his eyes fell on something that he was sure would be too improper for a fancy royal dinner and swiped it onto his arm.

And that night, if Blitz had thought back to the way Stolas had jokingly held up a top that was short enough that it left the midriff bare to himself, and then put it back scoffing and imagined the man wearing that, the delicate chains dripping from it wrapped around him instead, while the drinks got to him, and then knocked on the guy’s room (because apparently Asmodeus had arranged for them to all have individual rooms at a local inn); if he had fucked him from behind while pushing his head down into the soft, soft bed, and then again while on his back as Stolas rode him, mumbling “Fuck, I’m going to miss this” as the guy whimpered and met him halfway as they kissed; if he had forgotten all about his decision to fuck someone else, then, well, nobody was around to judge him for that.

The next evening before they had agreed to gather up to leave for the pub, Blitz sat in his all dark outfit, a high neck sleeveless top that clung to him like second skin which, when Blitz had tried it on and flexed his arms in the mirror, had flustered Stolas to no extent, some leather pants he had lying around from years ago, and his best find from the shopping trip yesterday— a leather coat with spiked shoulders. He crossed one leg over another, snickering at his still muddy and scuffed boots, playing around with the skull brooch he had pinned around his neck today.

He had let Loona line his eyes up for him, smearing a little of the dark colour around the outer edges, fascinated at the way the messy black makeup made his dark brown eyes stand out even though there was nothing special about them. He didn’t have Loona’s piercing blue or the Goetias’ strange shade between dark red and gold. He looked good, felt good after a long warm bath at the fancy inn, he decided, so maybe the new clothes hadn’t been a bad idea after all.

Loona and Octavia had met up with him a few minutes ago, dressed and reassuring each other about how they looked, Octavia slapping away Loona’s hand from where she was self consciously fussing with the braids they had put along the side of her hair and the ornaments tying it up as the ends joined her usual flipped hair to one side, revealing her shaved side.

Loona had snorted fondly as Octavia posed in exaggerated manners in front of Blitz as he complimented them, telling his daughter and Stolas’ how beautiful they both looked, his eyes going glassy before they groaned and were pushing their way into Stolas’ room, glancing at him wickedly over their shoulders.

Blitz wondered what that was about as he wiped at his eyes furiously, elated at the easy way the girl were letting themselves have fun, especially after whatever moods they had been in the past few weeks.

Millie and Moxxie had cleaned up and met him on their way out of their room, letting him know that they would be just outside exploring a bit. Blitz hoped they wouldn’t get caught fucking somewhere in public but the more carefree manner of the people in Lust seemed to have put them all at ease. Maybe there was something to Asmodeus’ rule after all, no matter how badly people in other rings talked about him and his reputation. His people seemed happy enough, minding their own business, safe to exist in public as they wished.

Stolas’ door opened and he could hear Stolas mutter something as the girls cackled at him. They came out and Blitz blinked confusedly at them as Loona whispered, “We’ll just go down for a bit, dad. Have fun.”

Have fun? What even—

“Sure, Loonie. Stay together and don’t stray too far from the inn. We need to meet up to go together—“

Stolas took that very moment to step out of his room, a strong floral fragrance wafting out followed by the soles of his newly bought boots clacking across the floor, tucking his neatly brushed back hair with two hands behind his ears delicately.

Blitz could only stare, conscious to not let his mouth drop open, not in front of their daughters, as the tall ass guy, whose legs seemed even longer in his high waisted laced pants that clung to his thighs and flared out a little towards the calves and ankles, shuffled over to them. It almost looked like a glide now.

Stolas was wearing an almost see through fucking purple shirt, no, a blouse, the thick stitches of flowers and shit on it covering up his torso except for the tiny hints of milky stretched of skin peeking as the fabric clung to him, shifting along depending on how he moved. The loose, flowy sleeves which had dropped to his elbows as he raised his hands to his hair, revealing all the unmarred and thin wrists that Blitz suddenly needed to sink his teeth into were now hanging at his sides as Stolas pulled at their ends repeatedly. Those same wrists that could easily hold him down as he sucked him off despite how fragile they looked.

Blitz barely noticed the throat clearing and exclamation of “close your fucking mouth up, dude” from their daughters as they left, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from the thin gold chains hanging at Stolas’ waist where his blouse was tucked into the pants and a few more connected to it falling in layers over the side of one hip. Various small trinkets resembling stars and moons, of course, but also hearts and tiny daggers and guns, all crudely shaped, hung from the chains, swinging and clanking together as Stolas fidgeted on his feet.

Stolas coughed and Blitz tore his eyes away from the dip of spine at the back that was just temptingly calling out to Blitz to fit his hands over the curve of it as he looked at the nervous glances being sent his way. What did this fucking siren have to be nervous about? And yeah, Blitz had stood around, his feet unable to move, to hear that lilting voice humming and belting out to the moon and the sea when he thought nobody was around, just as sweetly as it sang to his daughter, to know how enchanting it could fucking be.

“How do I—is it too much? It’s too much, isn’t it? I should—“

Fuck he had lined his eyes too, except instead of going all around like Blitz, he had left it just on the upper lid, pulling them into winged strokes at the outer edges, a mild tint of blue over his lids. He had also drawn curved lines down the middle of both lower lash lines that ended in sharp points, drawing even more attention to his pretty eyes, if that was possible.

He leaned back on his hands, taking his fill, as Stolas shifted on his feet, fiddling around with his ears, jaw, neck, back to his ear, then pulling at the collar of his blouse and oh, he had asked Blitz something.

How did he look?

For a single horrible moment Blitz wanted to laugh in that face because how the fuck did he not look in the mirror after doing all that and immediately see every person’s stumbling and chattering wet dream. But maybe that wasn’t what Blitz needed to say right now as Stolas’ gold eyes lowered to the ground the longer Blitz stayed silent. He looked beautiful, and why was that much easier to say to the girls, to Millie and fuck, he would find it much easier to say it to Moxxie at this point.

“No, shit, it’s not too much, Stols. You look very…well, good. You have to know that, come on. The colour really brings out your eye—makes your skin glow, yeah. You look great.” Yeah, there you go, that was good enough.

“Oh, I thought—I just wanted to try it and Asmodeus did tell me that I should dress myself up pretty, there were no limitations at his place,” oh, he did what now, Blitz pulled a face at that, maybe he should have gone with Stolas to meet the fucker, “this would be so improper at any of the Goetian parties,” his eyes were moving everywhere rather than fix themselves on Blitz as he ranted, laughing hysterically, “Fuck, I can just imagine the look on their faces if I ever turned up like this—“

“Stolas, birdie,” Stolas stuttered as Blitz stood and walked upto to him, pulling his hands away from where he had started to mess up the tuck of his blouse, “Why don’t you focus on the look on my face?”

Fuck, what was he even saying.

Whatever it was, it seemed to bring Stolas out of his head, the man focusing those pretty outlined eyes on Blitz, making them look half lidded and fucking alluring. And fuck, Stolas smelled nice this up close, Blitz would have to ask him which pile of flowers he had rolled around in. Those pupils ran all over him, one hand dropping to Blitz’s shoulder as he played with a spike on the shoulder pads, too close to his brooch, and then let the hand move down to the arm, squeezing at the bulge of muscle there.

“You look so lovely, too, Blitzy. So dashing,” and fuck that whispered awe. Blitz shifted away, pushing his hands into his pockets consciously.

“Yeah, yeah, not everyone can look like you, birdie.”

“No, I mean—Blitz. Can we…” Stolas looked to the side towards the staircase.

“What is it?”

“I needed to talk to you about something,” and Blitz snapped his head up at the sudden seriousness in his voice, all adorable shyness gone, “I wanted to wait but I think this might be the right time. Yes, yes, when else will I get—Blitz, can we step into my room for a bit?”

Stolas pulled him by both hands that he had covered Blitz’s hand with and grasped tightly in that short time and into his room, without waiting for a response from Blitz. He shut the door behind them.

Blitz stood a little surprised in the middle of the room, watching as Stolas avoided eye contact with him. He had been antsy since he woke up in the morning, brushing off Blitz’s questions and just quieting down as his eyes glazed over in thought. Blitz tried to break the silence between them with a brittle smile.

“Shit, Stols, if you wanted to get fucked in your fancy outfit, you only had to ask. You had me scared for a second there, being all serious about it.”

“Yes, ah, Blitz,” Stolas exhaled, looking to the side, “that’s not…why I asked to speak to you alone. I really do need to talk about something serious.”

“Okay,” not okay, whatever could this guy want to talk about that didn’t involve fucking in some capacity, absolutely not okay, “Um…what is it? Did Asmodeus say something about you being here? Because I can always fuck him up if he was being an asshole.”

Stolas blinked at him, frowning in disapproval, pushing off from the door and moving further into the room, “How would you—he’s royalty, darling. You can’t go around threatening royalty. No, that’s not why. I was just curious what you and the others will do after this?”

Blitz watched as Stolas brushed by him, his steps frantic as he went to sit at the foot of the bed, his eyes at level with Blitz’s that way.

“After this? You mean after we leave here? Probably go back to doing what we usually do. Why?”

Probably never going to see you or your daughter again. But that was for the best.

Stolas locked his fingers on his lap, his thumbs tapping a beat, “I was wondering…if you would like to stay here with us. I’ve talked to Asmodeus—“

“You’ve what?” Blitz turned on his heel towards the man sitting with his back rigidly set on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, and he said he would be amenable to ignoring your criminal pasts if you swear to not continue them here.”

Criminals, huh? Yeah, they sure were. Blitz sneered, very glad that Stolas hadn’t ever thought any different. No, that’s good.

“Why would we do that?” He gritted through clenched teeth.

“Oh I just thought you might want a chance to settle?” Blitz watched in satisfaction as Stolas recoiled a little as he snorted loudly, “Octavia and Loona—“

No, he wasn’t trying to do that shit right now.

“Don’t fucking try to guilt me with their bond. Why the fuck do you think you can just decide that shit for us?” Blitz spat out as Stolas blinked at him oh so innocently. Fucking rich bitches thinking they can just command people’s whole lives.

“I haven’t,” Stolas sighed, trying to reach for Blitz’s hand and he backed away to put more distance between them, a snarl caught in his throat, “It’s just a suggestion. We could all settle here, M&M could have their own place and we could…”

“We?” Blitz repeated, huffing a laugh tauntingly, “Who’s we?”

“Us?” Stolas said and immediately wilted, moving his outstretched hand back to the ruffles on his blouse and slouching, “Me, you, Via and Loona. We could stay together? If you want to do that, that is. Stay here with us? With me?”

Blitz couldn’t stop the mean chuckle he let out at that, tilting his head to the side as he glared at Stolas, “Why the fuck would I do that?”

Stolas exhaled for a long moment, running a hand through that hair, messing it up a little and when he spoke his voice came out shaky but his eyes were determined, “Blitz, darling, I have no idea what to think with you sometimes, what goes on in your head, but I can lay it all on the table, as they say? I seem to have found myself with feelings for you. Beyond what might go for just a fuck.”

Blitz mind shuttered for a moment, his boiling anger shocked to a standstill before rising up quicker than before, “Feelings?”

“Yes, I feel like we have gotten close. And I would like to go further with you. If that’s what you want.”

Blitz darted his eyes to the closed door, suddenly wanting to be far, far away from this bullshit. It was a mistake to give in and start fucking this guy, it always was. His shoulders rose almost up to his ears, his chest heaving as he smirked cruelly at Stolas who was shaking a leg rapidly, one hand twisting a fake button and the other twisting the bedsheet beside him.

“So what? You just fantasizing us being a happy fucking family now?” Blitz didn’t care that he had been doing the same yesterday in the city square, it was different coming from Stolas, Blitz didn’t hold the power to kick them all into prison with the flick of a wrist if he was displeased at his treatment, “Let me guess, you want to make an honest man out of me, we’ll be in love and plant a garden, or whatever it is you do, with our lovely daughters, living in our cozy little home with a library because who would need luxury when you have the people you love with you, is that it?” Blitz clasped two hands to his chest, speaking in a put on dramatic, saccharine way which he dropped to growl, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Stolas stared at him, his mouth dropping at the open mockery and sarcasm, and then turned his eyes to the floor, “Is that really so terrible so desire?”

Blitz curled his fists to his sides, keeping his feet rooted where he stood even as he felt like shaking the man before him, “You fucking—you and your desires. No, you know what, you don’t have ‘feelings’ for me.”

“I don’t think you can decide that for me,” Stolas looked right into his blazing eyes as he said that, a trace of suppressed rage seeping into his words too.

“You don’t know me, Stolas,” Blitz exhaled, his voice deflating, “Get out whatever you’ve cooked up in your head this time. You don’t know who I am. What I’ve done.”

Stolas ran his eyes all over his face, searching for something, “Is this about that night when you—“

“Yeah, fuck no, we’re not doing this,” Blitz grumbled, his voice rising with the next words, “You royal fucks think you can just decide our lives for us, no? What do you even know about us, Stolas?” Blitz went on as Stolas opened his mouth to interject, “Well, do you know that when I met Moxxie, he was two days away from his execution because he got left behind by some bastard when they tried to rob this noble family because his family had run out of money and I had to break him out of prison? He can never set foot in Greed again, if his asshole of a father even leaves him alone if we stayed anywhere else long enough.”

Stolas crumpled at that, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound.

Blitz felt his chest heaving, “Or do you know Millie, huh? Do you know when we met she was going around Wrath acting as menacing and cruel as she had watched other assassins be because nobody ever believed she could be anything more than a farm girl, never fully trusting her to decide her own life and who to be herself, not even her own parents. She wanted to be so much more than just tied down to that place. Explore the seas, eat some good stuff, snap off a few necks and get paid for it. Always unwilling to let her guard down or fail at anything because she didn’t want to be told by her family that all of it was her own mistake and she should have just come back to them.”

Stolas nodded his head, showing that he was listening as he stayed quiet and Blitz tried to pretend his own eyes weren’t getting wet, “Or do you know Loona, huh? When I met her, she was shivering crouched out in an alley, almost bone thin and feral, trying to fend off other people who would snatch the clothes off her cold, dead body before I—You know nothing about these people, Stolas.”

“I—“

“No,” Blitz pinched his eyes shut, trying to discreetly get rid of the tears, “You don’t know what it’s like to have to resort to doing what we do. You don’t know what it’s like to not have an identity, not have a home. Or even if you do, it never quite feels like it. Because all you’ll ever be is what the people above you have decided, just the dirt under their feet. We do this because we have control here, some control over those assholes who think they’re better than us. All we’ve known is violence and fighting to survive, carving out something for ourselves and you’re just asking us to give up years of living like that over a whim.”

“Control?” Blitz shifted back a step as Stolas rose to his feet, Blitz having to look up to see the anger in those eyes as Blitz finished, his fists shaking, “You shook in your fucking boots when you found out I was a prince who could easily order you dead. You have to be cautious everywhere you go, more than normal, and you get hurt by the people who do the same as what you do on top of everything. And, if any day you get caught, all of you will be in prison. Is that what control feels like? I’m offering you a chance at safety. At living and not just surviving. We can do it together, we can figure it out together. You think I don’t know how to survive something?”

Blitz scuffled towards the door as Stolas stepped towards him, gesturing around furiously as the lines drawn below his eyes muddled with tears. And Blitz figured out what this was about.

Stolas was lonely and he had found another adult to get close to after so long. He had convinced himself that Blitz was there to bend to his every whim, listen to his fucking sob stories. Rub a hand down his back and hold him as he cried and look at him like he hung the same stars he kept telling stories about and fucking love him, hah.

“Fuck you, Stolas,” he threw a palm up to stop Stolas as he tried to touch Blitz’s shoulders, “You’re making fun of the best we can do in our powerless positions? You’re a Goetia, that’ll never change. You’re a prince who can just fucking waltzed into another royal’s palace and just demand protection for criminals, for all of us. You think it is feelings or whatever but I know you assholes. You just want a toy to keep for your own.”

Stolas looked taken aback at that, his tears flowing free mutely, his arm recoiling “I don’t—“

“What if I say no?” Blitz was the one advancing on Stolas now, poking a finger into the chest before him as Stolas backed away, “You settle here with Via and we leave? You will forget about me with the next convenient dick you find,” Blitz removed his finger as Stolas tripped slightly on a step.

“You can just discard me right now, Stolas, instead of playing all these bullshit games.”

“When did I ever treat you like that?” Stolas whispered out as he put a hand behind him on the dresser to steady himself.

“Hah, don’t make me laugh,” Blitz should leave, this was pointless and he didn’t like how easily all the words stuck in his mind for months since he met Stolas were pouring out at just a question, “All those fucking roleplays, they were your ideas. Having to pretend I’m someone else to even get your dick hard? Getting all pissy when I try to fuck someone else like you own me? Just stop, Stolas. You can easily find someone else, pay them to do the same or whatever. I’m happy you figured out you like dick though, just not this specific one, trust me.”

“You really think so low of me,” and Blitz didn’t know what to do with that look on Stolas’ face as his voice broke, “You can’t just…tell me how to feel. Why am I trying so hard to convince you if I just wanted to move on to the ‘next dick’?”

Blitz didn’t know, he didn’t know why Stolas kept letting Blitz fuck him when he could easily just find someone else. He didn’t know why Stolas wanted to keep him around when he could easily find someone else to keep around. He didn’t want to know either.

“Well, I am telling you how to feel,” he hissed as Stolas straightened up, “Why is it that I’m constantly being forced into your company for my own good and you treat it like a fucking daydream come true. We’re just playthings to you, you were acting out your childish need to play pirates with us. Well, I’ve entertained you enough, your Highness. You just don’t want your toy to be taken away, I get it. Must be nice to believe you can have something in life,” Blitz didn’t need to say anything to cushion the blow, not even if his chest hurt at the heartbroken look in Stolas’ eyes, his body frozen in place and lips trembling, “This is bullshit. Let’s just go and pretend to be all merry just for the sake of our daughters, alright?”

Blitz withered at the earnestness and intent in Stolas’ next words as he responded, “No. You’re just assuming shit. Did I tell you that’s how I feel about you? I wasn’t the one who asked Father to buy you and I wasn’t the one who asked you to attack our ship or save us from Striker or, or to leave us here. And how dare you,” Blitz flickered his gaze up at the outraged tone as Stolas rubbed at his eyes and there went the pretty make up, all smeared, “All everyone ever does is tell me how I should feel, how a Goetia should feel and you’re doing it too,” Blitz moved forward to stop the way Stolas was swinging his arms around, his voice hardened, hitting the back of his palm on the drawer behind, “Never express anything, never feel anything, never tell anyone anything ever. Well, I’m tired of it. Why would you not believe me?”

He paced around like a caged animal, grabbing at his face as if he wanted to pull off his outer skin, as Blitz stood still, “Maybe I don’t know all of you but I want to. I want to try to be with you. And I just want you to want to be with me. If that’s not what you want, then just tell me, Blitz. Just say ’no, Stolas, I don’t want to stay’ and be done instead of,” he gestured between them, “all this.”

Hadn’t Blitz said that? What had he been saying, it was difficult to keep up with the overflow of words once something threatened to cause another of his outbursts.

Stolas looked at him, eyebrow raised, waiting for his answer, small sobs escaping him, his eyes truly all messed up now, making him look like he just got punched straight into both eyes. He tried to move past Blitz to go over to the bathroom when the silence stretched but Blitz blocked his way before he could even think about it.

“And what if you hate me? When you find out? What if you change your mind about me?” Throw me away like I know you will, “I give up everything for this dumb flight of fancy of yours, ask my friends and daughter to give up the life we’ve known and make a new one because some guy I’ve known for a few months ‘has feelings’ for me, and then what happens if it doesn’t work out? I just figure my own shit out while you continue with your unbothered, comfortable life here?”

Blitz backed him up against the dresser, trapping him in between both arms and Stolas held a hand to his chest to stop him from leaning in further, “Have you ever thought of anyone apart from yourself ever?” Blitz sneered down at the hand maintaining the distance because huh, now Stolas was worried about keeping distance between them, “Oh poor fucking you, so your wife is a bitch. You ran away, didn’t you? You’re free, yay. Don’t be so fucking selfish.”

Blitz removed the hands, letting Stolas stand up from where he had pushed himself up into the furniture. But Stolas jolted in place, his hand on Blitz’s chest trembling heavily as sobs wracked his body, the front of his blouse already damp, “I—I don’t—oh, fuck.”

“Don’t fucking cry. Don’t make me look like the bad person here.”

Push me away, tell me to leave. Order me to leave and never come back.

“I’m not. I swear I’m not,” Stolas wiped at his eyes and nose with an exposed forearm as his sleeve fell away, “You’ll never be a bad person in my eyes, Blitz. You saved me. In so many ways. And you can make your choice but you cannot tell me I don’t feel what I do. That is something I will not allow. Will you, at least, treat me like a person instead of just a title, instead of just a pathetic, foolish dreamer for wanting—wanting love—“

No.

“Okay. Okay, Stolas,” Blitz had to leave himself, he thought, as he pulled away Stolas’ hand from where he was digging his nails into his own palms, “You believe what you want. I’m not the person you think I am. You deserve so much—“

“You keep saying that,” Stolas entangled their fingers and Blitz let him, this would be the last time, “Will you tell me why, at least?”

Blitz huffed, looking at their joined hands, “People I’ve known from when I was a child all hate me now, and it’s all my fault. And you will too.”

“Darli—“

“Don’t fucking…try to make this into what it’s not,” Blitz pulled away forcefully, walking back to the middle of the room, ignoring the way Stolas’ face fell as his body swayed towards him on instinct, “You know what, Stolas? I don’t owe you shit. So let’s just…fucking go. Fix your makeup or whatever.”

“Yes,” Stolas sniffled, looking down at the dark powder stained all over his hands, “All proper and perfect, right?”

Shit. Blitz looked at him, fixing up his clothes perfunctorily, his cheeks and nose reddened from how much he cried and had rubbed the skin over them, wondering how many times in his past has he had to do the same thing, putting himself back together after some asshole made him cry, “Stolas, I didn’t mean—“

“No, you’re right,” Stolas didn’t elaborate what he was right about, “Let’s just go. Excuse me.”

He moved to walk towards the bathroom, probably to clean himself up and Blitz never learnt to shut his mouth.

“For what it’s still worth, you do look fucking beautiful dressed in the things you picked out for yourself, Stolas. Nice choice.”

There, that fucking word he had been wanting to say to the man in front of him for a few days now and this is when it slips out wholeheartedly. There, he was fucking crying all over again, could Blitz do one thing right.

“You’re so fucking cruel sometimes,” Stolas choked out, incredulously.

Blitz snorted, turning on his heel to walk out the room and get away from this heavy atmosphere, and all over a few months of some good fucks. Let’s see how much he wants to keep Blitz now that he wasn’t wearing the mask of the perfect knight in shining armour.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Chapter Text

By the time Blitz had stepped out of the inn and waited while everyone else gathered up around him, he had shaken off whatever it was that had carried over from that conversation. Or he thought he did as he laughed at the way Millie and Loona went back and forth at each other as Loona called her an old lady.

And then Stolas came down, fully put together again, a coat now worn over his blouse. Not a hair out of place, giggling all cute and flustered as Millie had looked in awe at him, the redness around his eyes fading.

Blitz stood back, his spine held rigid as Stolas complimented the colours on Millie’s dress and the way they had matched it to Moxxie’s bowtie and Moxxie blushed at that, twiddling his thumbs. Then Stolas took his daughter’s hand, startling her from where she was staring around at the people out and about in the streets for the evening and asked chirpily, faking cheerfulness, if everyone was ready to go, the scratchiness in his voice not missed by Blitz.

They stayed on either ends of their small group, mutually having agreed without a word to keeping their distance from each other and their daughters looked between them as they walked to the tavern.

Blitz looked around at the night life in Lust, the smells of spices and roasts from the market, the laughs and drunken fights between people around them as Blitz tried to cover Octavia at his side from the people walking by or stumbling close to them. He was not really able to take anything around him in, the words that were exchanged between them returning with a vengeance to run over and over in his mind.

Had he said some stuff he shouldn’t have? Had he reacted hot-headedly without actually thinking or hearing Stolas out first? Had he hurt Stolas when he didn’t really want to? Had he actually, for a moment, wanted to stay and that had terrified him?

All those doubts and Blitz felt a headache starting to cloud his thoughts so he decided he just didn’t want to think. He focused instead on the people beside him, the girls teasing Moxx for his combed back blond hair, Millie looking around her, entranced, distracted fully, her arms wrapped around one of Moxxie’s as he spluttered at the girls, Stolas looking fucking beautiful and heartbroken, his eyes blank and hands swaying limply by his side while he walked. Why would he be heartbroken, Blitz huffed internally, who even was Blitz that he could break this guy’s heart?

Stolas held his head high, coming to a stop at the entrance of a huge tavern sitting on a street by a seaside cliff, a huge sign with ‘Ozzie’s’ hung over the wide double doors. The sign glowed in the evening from the bright lanterns placed outside.

Two very muscular and severe looking guards stood by the sides of the door, frowning heavily despite the sounds of lively music and clatter coming from inside. When the guards raised eyebrows at their little group, Stolas cleared his throat and took out the token Asmodeus had given him from his coat pocket and the guards widened their eyes in recognition of it and let them in. Yeah, this was why Stolas and Blitz could never be, this was the difference between them. Stolas was just an ignorant pompous bitch wanting to play house. He was just planning to play around with Blitz’s feelings…whatever those feelings were, it didn’t matter.

They all stumbled inside, huddled together in the unfamiliar place and looked around in several states of awe at the lavish decoration inside.

Tables upon round tables were placed all over a high ceilinged room, all around a stage which sat lit up in the opposite end to the front entrance. Multiple chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, casting the room in an extreme amount of light, the floor gleamed from how polished it was. Performers walked around, talking to each other and sometimes interacting with the diners as they waited for their turn to get up on stage, and the room was filled with exaggerated chuckles and pleasantries being exchanged at each table.

They were guided by a short, curvy young woman, with dark hair pulled back in a wavy braid and a body that Blitz would have already been checking out any other day, to a table that sat a little off to the side of the main stage, almost near a wall.

They all took their places, Moxxie and Millie taking seats side by side as usual as if they were ever capable of being five steps away from each other, Loona sitting beside Moxxie followed by Octavia beside Loona, leaving Blitz the only empty chair between Millie and Stolas as he brought up the rear of their group. Shit.

The woman addressed Blitz as sir, shocking him out of his staring at Stolas who was reluctantly taking his seat, pulled his chair for him as if to hint at him to just sit his ass down. She poured them all out water from a copper jug into glasses and walked away. Blitz snorted, amused, as he wondered what these people would do if they realised who he was. He felt like a fucking imposter.

He looked around to see if anyone else felt the same. Loona looked a bit out of sorts, detangling her hair where it fell over one shoulder awkwardly, glowering at the glass of water. Millie had charmingly smiled, thanking the server as she left, brushing off her dress as she sat ramrod straight in her chair. Moxxie had thanked her too, surprisingly the only one who looked like he enjoyed the environment.

Octavia, Blitz noted in surprise, unexpectedly looked to be in discomfort on the other hand, tugging at the fingertips, scratching the back of her palms, her eyes fluttering hurriedly taking in all the sights and sounds around her as she sat slumped down onto her chair, as if trying to make herself smaller. Blitz had an idea by now that Octavia didn’t really like the hustle and bustle of a public place she was unused to, but she had looked more at ease in Mayberry’s inn in Envy than she did here.

The diners of this pub were definitely on the more well-off side, all coated in jewellery and big fur and tastelessly held back choice of clothing disguised as sophistication. The fragrance around the room from their perfumes were too overwhelming and assaulting on his sense of smell and Blitz thought he really preferred the more natural scent of flowers that Stolas seemed to like. There were some momentary glances at their group as if the people there knew they didn’t belong there, judging and condescending. Like Blitz and his team were less than and didn’t deserve to share in the same breathable air. Blitz’s fingers itched and ached for the absent pistol at his hips.

He wondered why he hadn’t felt the same way when Stolas looked at him all the while he had been around them. Blitz turned back to look at the man beside him.

Stolas didn’t look to be much at ease either, fidgeting for a while like his daughter, although if it was due to the place or their argument, Blitz couldn’t tell.

Blitz looked, and yes, he was looking, Stolas looked too pretty to not be looked at when he was right there, as Stolas took off his coat and folded it on his lap, playing with the chains at his hip as he kept his head down towards the table. He then clasped his hands together, locking them tight, on the table in front of him. He looked more composed than Octavia, like he was used to places and people like this but still like he didn’t quite believe he belonged there. Which Blitz knew was bullshit.

“So,” oh, the cute server had come back, now a pad of paper and a pencil in her hands, quirking her perfectly trimmed eyebrows at their table, “Can I take your drinks orders?”

Everyone looked around at everyone, their heads swivelling at surrounding tables too, wondering if they should order as usual or if there was any particular way to go about ordering things here. Every pair of eyes at their table ultimately turned towards Stolas who was still fucking lost in thought and had not seemed to hear the server.

Blitz elbowed him gently and he jerked up in his chair, one hand moving subconsciously to tug at an earlobe, his mouth dropping open as he stared at Blitz. Blitz tilted his head at the server.

“Oh, uh,” Stolas straightened his back some more, the hand moving to pull at the ruffles at his collar, smiling mildly at the server, “Um, we’re guests of King Asmodeus. He wouldn’t have informed you of that, would he?”

The server schooled her expression into one of realisation, clasping her hands behind her back, “Oh, of course. He did. Please enjoy yourselves, I’ll be right back with the finest wine our Highness serves here.”

As the woman scuttled off, Millie leaned forward on both hands towards Stolas, “Wine? Expensive wine? Fuck, I never thought I’d ever see the day when I get to drink that. There are some benefits to having you after all, Stolas. I might get used to this.”

Both Blitz and Stolas flinched violently at that at the same time and one of Millie’s hands snapped over her mouth as she became aware of what she had said and where they were and what it all meant. From the way Loona stopped gaping at the chandelier overhead to the way Octavia’s face dropped noticeably, it seemed like it was all kind of setting in that this evening would be the last time they were all together like this.

No more waking up to Octavia speaking with her mouth full, complaining to Blitz as Moxxie chased her out of the kitchen, or Loona and Millie laughing at Stolas’ clumsy attempts at trying to make himself useful at the shit they did. No more of meals together as they joked around light-heartedly, no more lazing around and poking at Stolas and Moxxie as they organised the shit he couldn’t while admiring them all the same for it, or Millie telling Octavia she would be a great addition to their crew as her eyes sparkled at that. No more of sleepy afternoons where Loona and Octavia reclined against his legs as they all listened to Stolas’ soothing voice drivel on and on as they exchanged fond but exasperated looks between them.

No more of someone treating him like someone worth being spoken kindly to, touching him gently as if he deserved it, kissing his scars as if they were as much a part of him as the dick that made him scream. Blitz would no more wake up from his naps knowing he would find someone to cuddle with just outside of his door if he ever was brave enough to ask, call someone ‘birdie’ and—

“For what it’s worth,” Loona voice broke through the heavy silence that had fallen over them, “It was really nice having you two on board. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had.”

Oh, fuck.

“Yeah,” Moxxie quirked his lips sadly as he spoke up, “Thanks for all the help these past months. If it weren’t for the fact that probably a whole royal army and your family would be looking for you, I would even ask Blitz to hire you. Maybe not you, not unless you stopped annoying me,” he aimed the last part jokingly at Octavia who rolled her eyes but smiled back.

“You were like two pieces of our very expensive personal little sunshines, weren’t you?” Millie grinned, her hands pushing around her glass of water between them.

Stolas looked between the three of them, his eyes falling regretfully to Octavia as she picked at the tablecloth, “I appreciate it all. I cannot thank you all enough for saving us and letting us stay. Looking back, I’d say I’m very lucky it was you people who found us. I’m glad to have been allowed to spend so many months with you.”

A bunch of fancy words, Blitz scoffed audibly, as if they were anything but a convenient passage to here for Stolas.

“You will come visit us, right?” Fuck, Octavia looked right past Stolas and at him as she asked that.

“Octavia, dear,” Stolas scolded, patting lightly on her fist over the table, “We can’t demand that of them.”

Octavia ignored her father as she kept staring at him and Blitz couldn’t look away. He could make himself believe Stolas was just using him but Octavia had no reason to. She was a child who had formed bonds and was now asking for reassurance that they would remain intact even through this separation. He could at least lie.

“Yeah, we might, if we’re ever around these parts,” Blitz smiled at her as Stolas snapped his head towards him, “You haven’t seen the last of me, sweetie.”

Their server returned with a jug of wine and poured them out in the expensive glasses she set before them. And as they all brought their glasses together to cheer to an evening of fun, Octavia raising her glass of water, now that they had got the emotional goodbyes out, Blitz had a sudden thought that he should try to have another talk with Stolas.

At least, try to leave without all the nasty words hanging around between them, Blitz didn’t know where the fuck all of that had come from once he had calmed down enough to think. It felt like he was responding and his words made sense but the person he was throwing them out to, feeling vindicated, that person wasn’t Stolas. More of a shadow projecting that obscured the Stolas he had known all those months from his vision, taking the form of a fragment from his past, something more malicious and more condescending, an idea of what he thought someone who looked down on him might be.

“So, Stolas,” Millie chirped up, as she scrunched her face after gulping the wine and pushing the glass subtly away from her, “What’re you planning to do here?”

Blitz looked at the man beside him because yeah, he had never thought of asking that. Maybe Stolas’ royal friend had set something up for him.

“Oh, I don’t,” Stolas’ eyes swept over him as he swirled the liquid in the glass in his grip, “I have…no idea, actually. I might have to look for a job, find someplace to stay for us. Asmodeus has been kind enough to allow us to keep our rooms at the inn until then but I don’t think I can take advantage of his goodwill for too long.”

“Maybe you can find a job at His Highness’ esteemed office, a diplomat or an advisor? You’ll make good money with that,” Moxxie suggested, his gaze boring into Stolas excitedly and Blitz agreed, Stolas was smart enough for that. And pretty chummy with the King.

“I can’t, actually,” Stolas tilted his head forwards towards Moxxie, frowning at himself, “I have to lay low. I can’t try to do anything that will get me noticed easily.”

“Didn’t you always want to have a flower shop, dad?” Octavia muttered, her cheek resting on her hand, and Stolas blinked at her, going slack jawed, “Once, when I was younger I asked you if you had a dream to be anything but a prince and you said you wouldn’t mind having a small shop of your own just selling flowers and plants and shit. Maybe even some medicine you make out of them.”

Shit, that sounded nice. Blitz smiled as he imagined a cozy, charming little shop, decorated not for show but to offer a welcoming environment of comfort, filled with all kinds of natural scents of flowers and watered herbs and boiling pots of ointments or potions and shit, and Stolas standing behind a counter, his face covered in traces of manure and dirt where he had wiped off sweat, wearing a pretty little apron, equally as dirty, beaming and trilling out greetings to customers and making flower bouquets for them. It suited him, somehow.

“You remember that,” Stolas put a hand to his collar, fiddling with it as he smiled sadly at his daughter who grumbled and looked away, “I had thought it’d be so easy to do that. Actually I had thought maybe when I was older and you had grown up and if you ever wanted to take my title—“ Stolas shook his head, “Although that does sound lovely, I don’t even know how to even go about doing that. I would need some money before I opened a shop.”

Blitz snorted at that, “Of course you didn’t think of any further plans.”

Stolas curled a fist on his lap as Blitz stared at the surface of the wine he had not yet taken a sip out of. Just have a few dreams and it becomes a reality for these people by throwing some money around. And now that Stolas had to almost go about making them come true the same way everyone else spends their entire life trying to, of course he wouldn’t know how to get to doing any of it.

Blitz ignored any looks being thrown at him by the others , “Finally dawning on you that you won’t have anyone else to solve your fucking problems for you?”

He heard the sharp, stuttered inhale from beside him and winced as Loona snapped her head at him, her jaw clenched as she aimed a scathing look at him.

“We’ll figure something out, dad,” Octavia squeezed Stolas’ hand where he had set the glass down, “If not immediately, you’ll probably have your shop one day. I know you miss your plants you left behind at the palace.”

Stolas crumpled down a little in his chair, staring blankly at his daughter’s hand covering his, and Blitz withered as Octavia glared at him before she continued, “If it weren’t for you, uncle would have probably gotten away with his plan to marry me off to own more shit.”

Oh yeah, Blitz had almost convinced himself to forget that extremely horrible part behind Stolas’ motivations, all that conversation happened so long ago. He swung his legs around, feeling slightly ashamed, and heard Stolas gasp beside him.

“No, of course, Via, dear,” Blitz watched Stolas shift in his seat, fumbling with his words in a hurry to get them out, “I couldn’t watch you being so miserable about it. It’s nothing, it’s my duty to keep you happy. No, I want to, it’s all I needed to do. You don’t have to figure anything out, this was my plan and it’s all my fault for not thinking further about the reality of the situation. I’ll figure my own shit out.”

He could feel his daughter’s eyes on him and Blitz couldn’t raise his head to meet them. He sighed warmly at the way Stolas was doing so much for his daughter. Of course he’ll figure his own shit out. It took a lot of nerve to leave the life you had known behind, even if it wasn’t as much of a bed of roses as everyone would think, it was something familiar. Stolas had a shit ton of nerve, he knew that. He would survive, and he would do it without Blitz. He didn’t need him here.

Moxxie cleared his throat as everyone sunk into uncomfortable silence again.

“Oh, look,” he pointed at a singer who had taken the stage to sing an upbeat song, something about enjoying the streets of Lust, and looked around jumping in his chair, “Do you think they’ll let me sing up there if you asked the King, Stolas?”

Blitz smirked at the collective groans from Loona and Octavia, Millie rubbing his back, and said, “Fucking hell, Moxxie. Who wants to hear you sing your dumb love songs and tens of metaphors about your feelings?”

Millie glared at him in warning as Moxxie genuinely seemed to wilt at that and Blitz almost felt an apology take form at the tip of his tongue. He had meant it to be playful teasing, he didn’t actually want to hurt the guy.

“I do,” Stolas smiled at him and Moxxie brightened up, that glint in his eyes returning and Blitz felt his anger rise as Stolas huffed at him, “I’ll ask Asmodeus.”

“Of course you would,” Blitz mumbled as he swiped his glass and took a long sip of his wine. The woman had explained its flavour in detail but all Blitz could taste was something sour and fermented and he immediately decided he preferred anything else over this. He didn’t get these showy people and their fancy excuses to make themselves sound more interesting.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, Blitz,” Stolas sat back against the chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he raised his eyebrows and, nothing wrong with what. Oh, he was still stuck on Blitz’s jab towards his own crewmate.

“It’s boring, is what it is,” Blitz snapped back, putting the glass back down with a bit more force, “Only you soft-hearted bitches want to croon about your feelings and relationships and heartbreak and love. You want to sing, why don’t you sing about the positions in which you get fucked on the regular, Moxx?”

Moxxie’s shoulder rose, he exhaled through his nose, “I don’t need to do that, sir. Please watch your words.”

Blitz ignored the thumping in his chest at the actual anger in Moxxie’s tone and Stolas’ glares towards him as he tipped his whole glass of wine back.

“Huh, fucking pussies.”

“Here, Via, dear,” Stolas chuckled humourlessly, speaking in the same voice he used when he taught their daughters their lessons, “I hope if you ever start talking about things this way then you feel comfortable enough to share what’s actually troubling you with me.”

“What?” Blitz spat, sitting up as Octavia looked between them, sharing confused looks with Loona, “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means, please keep your uncouth words away from my daughter’s ears.”

“Oh yeah?” Blitz smirked cruelly, “Weren’t complaining much about my uncouthness last night—“

“Okay!” Loona growled out loud, interrupting Blitz and he laughed at Stolas’ furious blush. She patted Octavia on the shoulders comfortingly as she shrunk away from them, “The fuck is going on with you two? And why are you being even more of an ass than usual?”

She aimed that question at Blitz and what even was his usual levels of being an ass.

“Nothing’s the fuck going on,” he scoffed.

“Yes,” Stolas nodded, calmly and prissily, “Whatever could go on between us?”

“The fuck are you talking like that for?” Blitz bent forward into the space between them, towards that annoying face, wanting to shove that bitch into the nearest wall and pull away that frustratingly high collar to bite over that flushed pulse until he forgot all his smug words, “I thought we agreed we’re here to have a fun time, right?”

Stolas grunted as the fight seemed to leave him and Octavia asked timidly, “Dad? Everything alright?”

“Yes, Via. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he chugged his wine, grimacing and then smiled at the rest of them as they all looked at each other, “Always ruining the fun by saying something, aren’t I?”

Fucking hell. Blitz dropped his head down on the table, that single glass of wine loosening his limbs as a wave of sadness swept over him. He didn’t know what to think anymore. Why was Stolas acting like he had been the only one wronged?

He felt a cold, thin hand on his arm and looked up to see Stolas lift a side of his lips at him in a small smile and cursed the way his heart beat faster at that.

“I’m sorry, Blitz. This is our final evening together, let’s just all enjoy it,” Stolas pulled his hand away, and Blitz missed the way it lingered before as he used to drag it along to his hand to tangle their fingers.

“You don’t, you know,” Loona spoke up, her voice softer, more uncertain at what she was saying, eyes not making contact with Stolas’ but glaring at her glass, “You don’t ruin the fun by saying what you mean. I like the way you talk about shit, like anything in this world could mean something. Could have a story waiting to be told if someone just asked. I’ll miss our lessons, I learned a lot from you.”

“Loona,” Blitz’s eyes widened as Stolas started tearing up and he gaped at the genuine way Loona had meant all of that, “You are so very smart. I hope you always remember that.”

“Fuck yeah, I am,” Loona rolled her eyes, giving a small smile, “Now, stop it with all that. When the fuck do we get our food?”

Blitz stared at Octavia who had stayed silent mostly the whole evening when she was normally rambling. And Blitz wouldn’t even pretend to notice to how quiet Millie was uncharacteristically being, just sending curious looks their way.

A performer suddenly pranced close by their table, a tall, blond guy wrapped in colourful fabric, his main goal for walking by them seeming to be to send an appreciative look-over at Stolas. Who had noticed it too and had the audacity to fluster at what Blitz thought was very unprofessional behaviour.

He felt his spine stiffen as Millie smirked at Blitz as she called the performer over to ask him what he was doing that evening for the pub. The guy had the fucking nerve to stand slightly behind Stolas’ chair as he talked something about a dance from some obscure part of Pride, resting an arm on the head of the chair. Blitz glared at the offending hand until he heard Stolas giggle at something the guy had said and then he glared harder at the knife in front of him. Maybe he should wait until he was outside to stab the fucking flirty grin off the fucker’s face?

“Well, I’m in town for a few days,” the guy winked at Stolas, “If you wanted to go out sometime or whatever, I’m staying at the inn next to Ozzie’s. I can even take you out dancing.”

Blitz watched from the corner of his eyes as Stolas chuckled nervously at that, a bit of surprise on his face. This was what he wanted, didn’t he? This was what he knew Stolas would do after Blitz leaves. Why did it fucking make him see red at the edge of his vision to imagine Stolas with someone else then, now that he had seen the possibility of it happening? He would go around the city with someone else, fucking dance with someone else, get flowers and shit from them, fuck them, wake up with them, and Blitz should have felt glad he would no longer have to be guilty about what he said because he had been right. But, fuck, it hurt. That it couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t.

Fuck, fuck, he wanted Stolas, didn’t he?

And that was the problem, Stolas didn’t want Blitz. Not him, specifically.

He raised an eyebrow as Millie punched him on the thigh under the table, letting out an ‘ow’ at the sting and dropping the knife he had been gripping tight with a hand. The asshole prince stealer had left sometime during Blitz having a fucking revelation and Stolas had gone back to chatting with the girls. There was food already set in front of them and when did that happen, Moxxie was already cutting up a steak with a fork and knife holding them all proper and shit and delicately bringing it to his mouth like he had been trained to do that his whole life instead of making perfectly aimed headshots.

Millie looked concerned for him, patting his thigh in comfort and Blitz almost laughed because she would absolutely hit him over his head if she found out what had happened before they came here. And he was still reeling from the realisation that he had fucked something up again just by being himself. He wanted Stolas, and he wanted his fucking fantasy of living together with their daughters and he wanted the fucking garden and the library and every dumb thing he had ridiculed Stolas for wanting.

But it didn’t matter, did it, not anymore. He had lost it.

Unless—

“Stolas, hey,” he spoke up softly, catching Stolas’ attention and he looked at him questioningly. He couldn’t stop his hand from reaching over to grab his and Stolas gasped and dropped the fork he had been holding with it with a clatter.

Blitz laughed fondly as Stolas apologised at the way Octavia jumped at that from where she was separating her vegetables from the meat. And his breath caught in his throat as those pretty glowing eyes focused on him, focused their whole attention on him the way they had been doing the entire time from the moment they met again and maybe, maybe yeah, Blitz had been too much of an idiot to turn a blind eye to such things. Maybe Stolas did care, maybe he wasn’t lying—

“Blitz?” Stolas touched the arm he still had extended to him, moving it to his thigh comfortingly, “Are you alright, darli—“

Stolas winced as he looked around self consciously at the group who were all pretending to not listen in on their conversation. For one insane moment, Blitz wished Stolas to call him that in front of the whole room of people.

“Yeah,” he smiled, putting his hand over the one on his thigh, preventing him from pulling it away, “Listen, can we—“

“Stolas, babe,” A booming but velvety smooth voice carried from behind them accompanied by the commanding clacking of extremely polished sounding soles and murmurs of ‘good evening, Your Highness’ and ‘honoured to see you here this evening’ from around the room.

Blitz turned to watch a really fucking tall, much taller than Stolas and that was saying something, broad shouldered and well-sculpted man, and wow, that blood red shirt was fully revealing how toned that chest was, dressed in bright shades of a strange combination of deep purple and green and blue all lined and embroidered with gold. A long cape or cloak, or whatever the fuck they called it, was draped over those shoulders, trailing behind him, his ears adorned with gemstones on the lobe, gold and stone encrusted bangles and necklaces standing out against that rich, dark skin and the man glided up to their table, a very seductive sway to his hips.

Stolas removed his hand from Blitz’s thigh to sit up straight as the man beamed at him and had he called Stolas babe, as he flourished a hand at the room, nothing in particular, “How are you liking everything? I hope my staff has been treating you well?”

“Uh, yes, sire,” Stolas bowed his head, moving to stand and Blitz noticed the panicked looks from his team as if to ask if they should be doing the same. Blitz was saved from answering as the man huffed and pushed Stolas back down onto his chair by the shoulders lightly, friendly, as he turned his pearly white beam around at the table. This time not quite as friendly, but just a courtesy. Blitz had to admit to himself that Asmodeus was a very handsome man, as his dark brown lidded eyes with hazel patterns settled on him a moment longer than others, something like curiosity and a little animosity overtaking them.

“We’ve been having a lovely time,” Stolas laughed breathily, looking stunned at the large hands still resting on his shoulders, “Thank you for allowing us this.”

“Ah, it’s no matter,” Asmodeus moved a hand to touch Stolas’ upper arm and then removed them to put them at his side and fuck, that voice could really give Stolas’ a run for his money.

Blitz watched everyone around their table sit up, dropping their utensils and chewing and swallowing their bites of food faster as Asmodeus addressed the rest of them, “Won’t you introduce me to your friends? This is your daughter, Octavia, I suppose?”

Octavia bowed her head at the royal, looking uncomfortable at not really knowing how to respond to him, her hands clasped properly on her lap. Stolas looked over at her posture and nodded at Asmodeus, “Yes, sire. And this is—“ he pointed first at Blitz and Blitz frowned, holding his head high.

“A fucking asshole and an arsonist?” a raspy, almost scratchy voice said from behind Asmodeus, as if someone had taken a normal voice and clawed it to shreds. The words were followed by a mechanical whirring and silence and shit. Shit.

Fuck.

Blitz knew that familiar voice behind that scratchiness, now distorted beyond repair, but he would recognise it anywhere, any day. He had heard the rumours that he was here, in Lust, but Blitz tried never to think about it or him at all.

“I’m sorry?” Loona raised her pierced eyebrow, scowling at the newcomer and Blitz immediately shrunk into the cushioned chair.

As the whirring and sounds of movement from the mechanical limbs came to a stop, Blitz finally, finally looked at that face he hadn’t seen in fifteen years.

He was still shorter than Blitz, looking comically short next to the royal beside him even in small-heeled boots. Dressed in a jester style stripes and dots outfit that attacked the senses with all the different patterns and colours, a jester hat on his head, bells ringing lightly as they hung from their pointed ends.

What stood out to Blitz was the absolute genius that might have gone into making the arms and legs fully out of metal, something more pliable than the iron that most prosthetics were made of everywhere else. They were moving around more naturally and flexibly than fake limbs did, the joints clearly meticulously detailed and designed to move that way. He was holding a cane by his side encrusted with jewels, aiding his legs with it as they walked to their table and clunked to a stop over the floor.

And the scars. Fuck, he had had it so much worse than Blitz, he felt like he needed to throw up at the evidence of what he had caused to happen to the man in front of him. His face was fully almost unnaturally white, mottled and tight skin stretched over it, with the only exception of a smooth, unburnt nose that stood in contrast with the rest of the face.

Blitz stopped taking in all of the man before him as his eyes finally met the raging, unforgiving eyes of his friend—

“Fizzie!” Blitz heard Asmodeus exclaim lovingly as he gestured to a staff who brought up another chair up to their table in a moment’s time. Wait, lovingly?

“I thought you wanted to stay in the backrooms. Come, come. Meet our honoured guests here.”

Fizzarolli tore his eyes away from Blitz and grinned coyly at the fucking royal beside him as he accepted the chair and took a seat.

“Honoured guests alright,” he giggled meanly, rolling his eyes and flexing a hand, “How’s it going, Blitzo? You set anything else on fire lately?”

“Excuse me, ah,” Stolas piped up and Blitz blinked at the sudden realisation that Fizzarolli was right there in front of his whole team.

Millie interrupted whatever Stolas was going to say as she spoke, “Do you two know each other?”

No, this can’t be happening. Fizzarolli was going to say some shit, he knew it, and everyone was going to be around to hear it. He couldn’t let them find out, not like this.

“Oh, we absolutely do,” Fizzarolli smirked was he looked around their table, “I’m guessing Blitzo here didn’t tell you about me, and why would he?”

No.

“The o is fucking silent now,” he felt his mouth move and Fizzarolli tilted his head, glaring challengingly at him, “I guess the rumours are true then. You really are still a clown. Just a royal one now.”

“Blitz?” He heard Loona from across the table and could barely take in anything except the sight of his childhood friend narrowing his eyes hatefully at him. Probably wasn’t the best idea to provoke him right now but Blitz wasn’t really known to have the best ideas when it came to running his mouth.

“Hah, at least I didn’t set people on fire and make a run for it,” Fizzarolli tapped his fingers rhythmically on the cane resting beside him.

“Quit it, Fizz,” please, “Not in front of them.”

“Oh? Hey, I remember you,” he put a finger to his chin in thought as he looked at Stolas who had been glancing between the two of them, his eyes lingering on their scars, “Weren’t you the prince who came to the palace yesterday?”

Asmodeus who had been standing silently beside Fizzarolli’s chair as he observed everything shook himself with a clap of his hands at that.

“Right, right. This is Prince Stolas, Fizzie,” he pointed at Stolas, and then grandly at Fizz, “Everyone, this is Fizzarolli, one of my best artists. And I was just getting introduced to the rest of the people here before you interrupted.”

Fuck, what royal spoke so softly and adoringly to people like them.

“How do you two know each other?” Loona looked straight at Blitz, pushing her empty plate aside.

“No introductions, then,” Asmodeus sighed as he slunk back to stand beside the chair, draping his cloak more securely over himself.

“Loona,” Blitz growled back and Loona stared at him, taken aback, “Please, not now.”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Fizz rested his head on the hand he put over the top of the cane, still amused, “Can’t even talk about it, can you? After everything you did?”

“I didn’t do anything to you, fucker,” Blitz spat at him and Fizz seemed to lose his amusement at that, a disgusted frown taking over his features.

“You’re still going to deny it, huh. You see, we grew up in the circus together.”

Fizz was about to continue but blinked as Stolas stood up, his coat sliding to the floor, “You’re the little boy who was next to him, doing the trapeze act with him,” he blurted out as both Blitz and Fizz widened their eyes because who the fuck remembers such a thing after so many years, “Oh. I didn’t—“

Blitz really was grateful for the way M&M remained silent, clearly having picked up the way Blitz was not looking forward to having his past unearthed on a random night.

“Yeah,” Fizz replied, grinning at Stolas as his eyes moved between him and Blitz, “Although, I’d be insulted to be known as the one next to him. I was always the better performer.”

Blitz’s shoulders rose upto his ears at that, faded words of a similar kind running through in his mind.

“I don’t think—“ Stolas started, looking down at Fizz, his eyes turning hard.

“Fizz.”

Fizzarolli cackled loudly, throwing his head back, at the plea in Blitz’s face as he gestured at Stolas pointedly. Please, not in front of him.

“Couldn’t take it then, can’t hear it now,” Fizz snapped his head back with a growl, stomping a foot roughly on the ground, “Is that why you did it? Couldn’t handle being a fucking failure?”

“Stop.”

But Blitz hadn’t meant that for Fizz. He held his palm up towards Loona as she pushed herself from her seat, Octavia beside her glaring at Fizz just as hard as her father. It wouldn’t do to make any moves to threaten the king’s whore, they could get executed for this.

“How’s Verosika, by the way?” Fizz crossed his arms over his narrow chest, “Ever make up with her? Last I heard, she was going around Lust telling people how you had robbed her dry and ran off. And all she did was say something about wanting more than to just fuck you. Bad choice on her part.”

“Who—“ Stolas pushed his chair into the table as he walked around it to stand before the pair in front of them, “This is highly inappropriate, sire. We have done nothing—“

“Stolas,” Asmodeus replied firmly and Blitz felt the shiver that ran through everyone’s spine at the coldness in that word, “I like you, but this is strictly between them, I’m afraid.”

“Just…stop riling me up, trying to get a reaction, Fizz,” Blitz pushed back his chair and stood up as well, “I’m leaving tomorrow anyway. Don’t do this now.”

“Oh yeah. Running off again?” Fizz raised an eyebrow, the movement a little delayed on the scarred skin, and turned towards Stolas. A few glances passed between them as Blitz noticed Stolas send him a pleading look as well, “Looks like your love life is still a pile of shit. Sorry it didn’t work out, Your Highness. But if you ask me, good riddance.”

Did Stolas talk about what was going on between them to fucking Asmodeus? And there he goes, looking on the verge of tears again, his fists curling beside him. Blitz snarled, talking shit to him was one thing, Fizz had a right to do that but bringing up things not even relevant to mock Stolas, Blitz wasn’t going to stand for it.

Fizz pressed a button hidden up a joint in his right hand and it extended towards the table as he grabbed a fork and a piece of meat from Blitz’s plate, bringing it to his mouth, chewing obnoxiously. Blitz opened his mouth, kicking at his chair.

“He just ruins people’s lives. I mean, he was so jealous of how much better I was than him that he set fire to the entire circus on my birthday. Do you want to see his wanted posters all around Greed? Most people there have long forgotten it all, but how can I?” Fizz waved all his limbs around, laughing humourlessly, and pointed to his face, poking his tongue out at Blitz.

And just like that, it was done.

Blitz felt himself suffocating in the silence at their table, enhanced by the loud, lively chatters going on around everywhere else. He felt the way Stolas collapsed back onto his chair, could feel the way his heart dropped to his fucking feet and squashed itself at the shame that took over his chest pushing everything else out as his daughters and friends turned shocked looks on him, distrust and fear on their faces. Distrust. Fear. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Blitz’s breaths quickened as Fizz stood up, twirled his cane and set it on the floor as he said, “Well, enjoy your evening. I have a juggling performance later on, hope you stay around for that.”

He turned around, flipping his hat with the ringing bells over his shoulders and walked away with Asmodeus, disappearing behind a door near the stage.

Blitz needed to get out of there. He needed—needed—water, air, he could feel the ash burning into his lungs, the heaving coughs, the yelling around him for water, he could something like his best friend’s screams as he wan away from a tent towards another, and another, the skin around his right eye was burning and he felt bile rising burning even his food pipe, he couldn’t see anything out of it, fuck, his fingers were cold, the knuckles on fire—

“Blitz,” he felt a hand touch his, too cold, his hands burned to the touch, and he flinched away, snarling.

Someone splashed water on his face and he came to with a snap, the ceiling overhead looked so fucking fancy. Oh, there he was. At the expensive fucking pub with the expensive fucking people and Stolas—oh, that was Stolas, looking down at him, they were always looking down at him but the way Stolas did it felt different, especially now. Oh, he was saying something, holding a glass and filling it with water again to throw at him, calling out Blitz’s name as he kept his distance.

“Fuck,” Blitz realised he had slunk to the floor, the eyes of the whole place on him. He needed to get out. He needed to run.

Stolas hovered a hand over him, putting the glass down, looking horrified and Blitz scoffed. What had he said? He won’t ever think Blitz is a bad person, Blitz had saved him. Who could Blitz even save? This guy deserved so much better.

He moved away, avoiding the hand, as he stood up so quick he got dizzy again, wiping his face with his jacket clad forearm, his scars on display for everyone to see because Blitz had felt like he didn’t need to wear gloves that evening, he was only with friends.

“I—I need a smoke, alright,” he backed away from the table, looking over at everyone’s face because he knew for sure he wouldn’t be seeing them again, they would all hate him, “You all go on without me. I’ll—I’ll be back, yeah. For sure.”

“Blitz, please—“

“Stop it, Stolas,” Blitz raised his voice warningly and heads turned towards them, some already murmuring about what was going on, “Do you have to always be so fucking clingy? Just—fucking give me a moment. Leave me alone.”

Stolas tensed his shoulders as he stepped away from him, clearing the path in front of him, as if he had already expected those words and fuck, how did he even tolerate Blitz speaking to him like that? He was there trying to pull Blitz out of his panic, trying to see if he was okay even after all that had happened that evening, and here Blitz was. Fizz was right.

He stomped out of the doors of the tavern, letting them swing back harshly.

Chapter Text

He had no idea how many cigars he had smoked already. He stood outside the inn on the other side of the street, leaning over the boundary wall overlooking the sea and watching the small waves hit the lower part of the slope. He was throwing every smoke into the sea below so he couldn’t even count how many he had even if he wanted to.

The sounds of lively chatter and music and the excessive lights from inside Ozzie’s spread all over the street, surrounding him all around as he had his back to the building and Blitz watched to the side as a child danced clumsily and twitchily around a little way from him with the music from inside as her mother clapped, cheering her on. At least some people were having fun. Being happy.

“Hey,” he heard a soft, known voice speak up from behind him as light footsteps walked up and Blitz groaned, exhaling smoke into the air.

“Did your dad send you to check up on me? You can just go back and tell him to fuck off, Via.”

Blitz dropped his head onto the forearms as he crossed his arms over the wall, watching as Octavia came to stand beside him, the hair she had left open fanning behind her with the cold damp breeze from the sea as the night settled in.

“He didn’t,” she sighed heavily and Blitz turned his head to the side towards her, “He hasn’t said much after you left. Nobody has. I just needed to get away from there for a bit. It’s a little loud inside.”

Blitz huffed as he crushed the cig and threw it away, knowing how much Octavia was usually sensitive to the smell.

“Right. And you decided this was the best company,” Blitz rolled his eyes, rocking on his feet back and forth, “I’m not sure your dad would even want you around me right now.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to find you out here so—“ Octavia said sulkily and Blitz watched her as she blew off a strand of dark, dark hair that had fallen over her eyes, “I’m guessing he talked to you about him wanting you to stay here with us. And that it didn’t go well.”

Blitz straightened up, wincing, “You know about that?”

“He’s been thinking about it for a while, since Envy,” Fuck, Blitz had not seen any of it coming, how had he not seen the signs at all, “I totally get why you two would argue over that. He just…”

“Thinks he can just decide people’s lives for them?” Blitz raised a brow at the girl beside him and she rolled her eyes, smiling.

“He has a way of thinking he knows what’s best for everybody,” Octavia said, a shadow of something bitter and uncertain passing over her features, making her gesture around, “I mean, he didn’t even tell me he was planning on coming here until it slipped out, didn’t even ask me whether I wanted to stay here or whatever. But then I thought about it and I get why this might be the right choice for us.”

Octavia exhaled a laugh, pushing her hair back irritably and Blitz patted down his coat and pant pockets to see if he had anything to help her tie it up, “I would have loved to just stay with you all, I’m sure he would too. It’s just not possible, I get it. Then he started talking about asking if you all staying with us would be possible. It’s a bit—I get how it might come off as. But he listens. He listened when I cried about not wanting to get married, or get fucking etiquette lessons, he didn’t say a word these few months, letting me do whatever I wanted. He doesn’t mean any harm. Have you…told him what you wanted when he asked? Did you really not want us anymore?”

Blitz cursed as he found nothing in his pocket to use as a hair tie, pretending he wasn’t listening to the tirade of the child beside him, “I have no idea what I said to him, alright? Not like it matters anymore.”

Blitz didn’t want to be talking about all that stuff between her father and him, it wasn’t her business how fucked up the adults around her were.

“Huh,” Octavia seemed a little discouraged at the failure to get a proper reply out of Blitz as she ran her fingers through the ends of her hair, pulling her coat tight as she shivered, “He’s been drinking a lot since you walked out. He always did that back at the palace, thought nobody noticed. That I didn’t—especially towards the end before we left. I have never seen him as happy for a while as he was on your ship.”

Blitz turned around to lean back on his elbows on the wall, facing the street and that dumb pub. He didn’t know what to do with all that Octavia was saying. He didn’t know how much Stolas had told his daughter about what went on in her parents’ marriage.

“Yeah, well, he’ll be plenty happy with you right fucking here too.”

“I hope so,” Octavia stood shoulder to shoulder with him, facing the opposite way, her lips downturned at the dark horizon lit by the lights of the island, “I hope I’m enough. He had started feeling so far away before we met you all. Then he seemed to have found his liveliness back. Maybe it was all you. Maybe he wasn’t happy—“

“Octavia,” Blitz picked a hand lazily up to pet her head, messing her hair up and trying to distract her, grinning at the way she tried to push his hands away, because what child needed to feel responsible for their parent’s happiness, “He loves you. He was happier on the ship because you were right there and enjoying yourself. As long as he has you, that’s enough,” he will figure the rest of the shit out, “You don’t need to do anything more. And if you talk about these things with him sometime, I’m sure he’ll say the same thing. One thing your dad loves to do,” he rolled his eyes, mimicking a chattering mouth with a hand as Octavia giggled, “is talk about his feelings.”

Both of their heads turned toward Ozzie’s closed front doors as loud whoops of “Fizzarolli!” erupted from inside followed by applause, making Blitz wince involuntarily.

“Did you do it?” Blitz felt himself flinch at Octavia’s soft tone, but very direct question, “What he said you did?”

Blitz looked around at the streets, watching the people moving around then turned his head upwards at a not very starry sky. It was very late and he was exhausted.

“Yes.”

He heard a sharp inhale from beside and closed his eyes, “Was it on purpose?”

He snorted, “Does it matter?”

“It matters to me, I want to know, Blitz,” Octavia tugged at his sleeve, drawing his attention to her dark reddish eyes set determinedly on him. Maybe she did have some similarities to her father after all.

“The person I’ve known all this time, the one who took care of us, treated us the way you did…it doesn’t make sense to me,” her eyes flickered side to side as he scowled down at the place she was still gripping at his sleeve, “So, if you’re leaving, just explain this one thing?”

He pulled his hand away as she blinked as if just realising she had held on, and Blitz sneered at the girl, “You know, your dad also seems to think I owe him something,” he pursed his lips as she just rolled her eyes and crossed her hands across her chest at his subpar attempts at shaking her off, “You saw me set someone on fire in Wrath, you think I’m not capable of something like that?”

Octavia huffed at that and said way too virtuously, “It was to protect us! And I saw you! When you turned and looked at it and froze up. It was like you weren’t really seeing what’s in front of you but like, something else. Like a ghost.”

Blitz snorted at the agitated way in which the girl was trying to explain what she wanted to, as if she didn’t quite have the exact words, noticing just now how often she did that. He would miss this.

“It was an accident,” Blitz smiled indulgently, cutting off her muttering as she stood facing him in a more relaxed stance, “That’s all I’ll say.”

He didn’t know why it was suddenly necessary that Octavia didn’t see him as a horribly irredeemable person.

“That’s enough,” Octavia exhaled, looking pleased at having worn Blitz down.

“I hurt him anyways.”

“Maybe you should apologise then,” she kicked at the ground under her, scoffing at him. Was it that simple?

“He won’t really listen to me. I’ll probably get thrown in jail if I piss him off,” he chuckled sadly.

“You should try anyways, if you have something to say to him. You’re leaving tomorrow anyways, where’s the harm?” Octavia shoved at him with her shoulders and he glared at her without any heat.

“Why are you such a weird kid?” he grumbled as she kept knocking into him playfully two more times, and he pinched onto one of her cheeks lightly, “This is why your dad shouldn’t be teaching you all that wise ass shit. Your hair is going to start graying before you’re even thirty.”

“Pfft,” Octavia pushed his hand off, rubbing at her pale cheek as she turned serious again, “You will visit us, won’t you? Did you lie about that?”

Blitz put his hands into his pockets as he shrugged, trying to sound more genuine, “Yeah, kid, I will. Sooner than you think. Just take care, okay?”

Octavia nodded, shivering more as the wind picked up and what was it with these royals and not being able to stand the cold at all. He tilted his head towards the pub, signalling her to go back in and watched as she slowly shuffled back, sending brief looks over her shoulders at him.

His eyes moved to the side alley beside Ozzie’s and noticed as people who looked like the staff of the place walked in and out of there. Must be a side entrance to the place. Octavia’s innocent words rung out in his mind. If he can…

Maybe he could leave with one less regret.

“Hey, Fizz,” Blitz spoke up cautiously from where he had sat down in the small dressing room as the other man came in and backed in fear at the sight of him before he schooled his features into an angry scowl.

Blitz had just followed his impulse and slunk in through the side entrance of the pub, ignoring the prying looks thrown at him by the staff around him. Some of them had looked like they wanted to stop him but moved out of his way as soon as he narrowed his eyes at them, squaring his shoulders. He had walked around until he found the door with his old friend’s name on it and acted all casual and disinterested until the area was clear and walked into the empty room. He had felt like one of those creeps he had to beat up when they were back at the circus, the ones that had tried to sneak into Fizz’s tents after his performances.

“Some nerve you got,” Fizz had one hand on the knob of the door, the other on the cane at his hip as he cocked an eyebrow at Blitz, “Why’re you here?”

Blitz probably had only one chance at this before the guards of the whole place were set on him. Shit, his royal was here too, likely just outside talking with the guests.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he stood up, his palms held up in front of him and his head lowered, a perfect posture of surrender, “I just…needed to explain some things.”

Fizz snorted and set the cane in front of him with every step as he walked warily, taking his time, upto a chair in front of a huge mirror on the wall. He pulled it back and sat down, one leg crossed over the other as he faced Blitz head on, “Explain? What can you explain? Why you set the fire?”

“I didn’t!” Blitz raised his voice and immediately after shuffled his feet shamefully at the way Fizz growled at him in warning, “I didn’t—look, I’m sorry this happened to you and it is my fault. It is, even if I wasn’t the one who set the fire. It’s because I’m a piece of shit. I’ve always been.”

“Nice that you figured it out,” Fizz laughed unkindly, angrily, then sneered at him, pointing at the door behind him with one metal thumb, “Now if you don’t mind, I have to get back to the palace. Ozzie will be coming to get me after he’s done and you don’t want to find out what’s going to happen if he finds you here. Have a great fucking life ahead.”

No, he still had a lot to say. Now that Fizz wasn’t overly being hostile to him, he was just sitting pissed but all worn out, Blitz needed to explain everything.

“That day…that morning,” Blitz started, looking down at his feet, avoiding the other man’s eyes, “I overheard some people talk to Cash in his tent. Something about him owing them a shit ton of money. They were threatening him and he kept promising to pay them back even though everyone knew the circus was in debt. It hadn’t been doing well for years.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Blitzo,” Fizz sounded unsure of what was coming out of Blitz’s mouth, like he wanted him to continue but also to leave.

“I was so excited for your birthday,” Blitz would stay until Fizz really kicked him out, he decided, “I wanted to spend as much time with you before you realised how good you were for that shitty place. For me. Before—before Cash fucked with the wrong people and we would have to shut down and leave.”

He winced as an elongated limb came flying at the wall beside him, not quite violently but forcing him to look up at the devastated and confused look in his friend’s eyes.

“You weren’t even there,” Fizz grunted, his voice turning raspier, “You were so bitter about me being better than you that you couldn’t even be there with me when everyone else was.”

Blitz exhaled a short, derisive laugh, “Cash told me to keep guard outside the circus.”

“What?” He watched the limb be shortened back to their original length again, absentmindedly marvelling at the invention. Fizz gripped the chair hard, uncrossing his legs.

“Yeah, he said everyone would be in the tent celebrating you and someone needed to stand guard at the entrance because of the shit that happened that morning. He said if I wanted to do something useful at that moment I would go do that. Using a gun was all I was good for so at least he could get some use out of it,” Blitz tightened his hands into fists at the memories of his father talking down to him, “I was so pissed but it wasn’t even anything new coming from Cash. I looked into the tent before I left to do that and nobody even cared that I wasn’t there. Like I wasn’t good enough to be part of it, like I didn’t belong with any of you. You didn’t care.”

“Are you blaming it on me, you asshole?” Fizz leaned forwards, flexing his fingers, his legs extending to the floor as he gritted his words, “I was surrounded by people, wishing me, giving me presents. I would have gone to find you, you know I would.”

“I didn’t know, not anymore,” Blitz closed his eyes self deprecatingly at the over dramatics of his barely adult self in the past, always scared that he was losing his closest friend, “I saw Cash give you that card. I always knew you were the ideal son he wanted, but to see it from the flap of that tent while everybody loved you—and you did deserve all of it Fizz. But to be thrown out of that like I meant nothing to anybody…I got angry, Fizz. I got really angry.”

“You—“

“I didn’t set the fire.”

Blitz watched Fizz release a breath of relief at that, then sit back up, “Then how—“

“While I was guarding the entrance, someone was sneaking into the grounds,” Blitz dug his palms into his eyes, watching the spots dance around, as he recalled the night, “While I held my gun to his head, I recognised him as one of the men from that morning, one of the men Cash owed money or maybe their lackey, or whatever. He said he had something to take care of and I knew he meant Cash. I was still angry at him.”

Fizz widened his prettily lined and shaded eyes at him, his lips quivering, “You didn’t.”

“I let him get away,” Blitz felt his own voice turn unsteady, something feral snarling in his chest as he spat the next words and paced around in circles, “I hoped he would beat the shit out of Cash, hoped he would strangle him, or something. Mom was still resting in her tent with a headache from the crying after the fight they had in the morning after those loan sharks left. I hoped the fucker would somehow ruin how happy everyone was at that moment, I felt a sick satisfaction at imagining that. Felt like all of you deserved it. He deserved it.”

Blitz stopped pacing as Fizz moved further and further back on the chair from him, his finger tapping on the armrest, his eyes flitting to the closed door. Blitz forced himself to calm down.

“But only for a moment. Only a moment where I froze up and hesitated and the man made a dash for it. Then I came back to my senses but too fucking late, Fizz.”

Fizz looked at him, his eyes widening further still as understanding dawned in them.

“He set the fire,” Blitz rubbed a palm down his face, pulling at the scarred skin, “He lit the gunpowder barrels and I followed—I followed after him as fast as I could but I was still too late to stop anything. I almost…almost got to you all to warn you—almost made it to the guy but just, it was all in the flash of a second and I just watched helpless as it all happened,” he stared down at the scars on his hands, the scars on his Fizz’s face, his amputated limbs, “You got hurt so bad and it was my fault because Cash was fucking right. I’m useless. I failed at the one thing he asked me to do. Protect you all that night. I didn’t realise—I didn’t think they would burn down the circus. I’m so sorry, Fizz.”

A flash of memory of an explosion in the dark night, in the tent behind the one in which Fizz had been in and the bright laughter which turned to screams from the tent fluttered at the edge of his mind, threatening to send him into a panic again but he tried to shove it down for a time when the person in front of him wouldn’t have to see it.

“You were the only one not in that tent. Everyone thought it was you,” Fizz’s pupils looked around the room, one hand brought to his chin in thought, “Blitz, you always had a horrible relationship with Cash, so I can’t say I blame you for being angry or having such a reaction. But I can’t forgive you that easily either. It was still a mistake on your part that fucked it all up.”

“It was,” Blitz blinked doubtfully, wondering if he had imagined Fizz calling him by the name he preferred for the first time, “I still stay awake most nights wondering how things would have turned out if I had just pulled the trigger then. Cash would still be using me and I would still be a nobody unable to get away from the circus, just listening to his bullshit all day, but at least you would have been unhurt. Whole. At least mom…would have still been alive,” he swallowed down the tears choking up his throat, “The guilt eats away at me every night, Fizz. I hate who I was in that single moment, the person who let that fucker get away. I hate that that is the person who survived the fire. I mean, I have the scars to remind me.”

Blitz hoped the wetness at his eyes stayed right there as Fizz sat open mouthed in front of him, looking him over and then turning to the side to look at himself in the mirror beside him, grinning crookedly at the reflection.

He chuckled as he tilted his head at Blitz, “I’m still whole, you fucker. And I lost my limbs but I’m still alive. I’m still performing and I…I’ve found something good here,” a blush blossomed on his cheeks faintly as he wiggled the metal fingers in front of him.

“You didn’t even come visit me,” he said accusingly, narrowing his eyes, “You just ran away.”

“I sat by the medical building every second while you were unconscious, Fizz, too afraid to go in and see what I had done. The day you woke up,” Blitz smiled as he remembered the relief he had felt when he got the news, “I decided to stop being a coward and face you but Cash didn’t let me. He told me you never again wanted to see me. And could I even blame you? Hah.”

Blitz laughed at the phantom feel of the sting on his cheeks as Cash had thrown him out, snapping out of it as Fizz stood up briskly.

“I never said that,” his voice was the gentlest Blitz had heard the whole evening, almost a remnant of the day Blitz had talked to him last, “I wanted to see you, wanted you to tell me what happened. But Cash told me you had made a run for it because he had notified the officials that you were responsible. That asshole.”

“Yeah, I know,” Blitz felt drained suddenly, this was too much emotional expenditure than his body had done in years, more than he was used to, he felt his limbs trembling from the whole conversation, “I had to make a run for it after that. I’m so sorry, Fizz.”

“Fuck,” Fizz yelled out and Blitz jumped in place. He watched him start to wave his fists around, “Fuck this shit. You know what, I don’t think I can blame you for the fire at least, you did try to stop the guy,” he went on, ignoring Blitz’s effort to protest that, “I can blame you for being an idiot, though. I always wanted you there, you were just a little out of sight right then. And sometimes you would just get into one of those shitty explosive moods when you just pushed people away with your mean words or just refused to take the first step towards them.”

Blitz pulled a face at the words, feeling as if Fizz was talking about them but also not. As if he was trying to make Blitz catch on to something.

“I never was good enough,” Blitz slumped forwards, his hands loosely by his side, “For you.”

“For me?” Fizz repeated, mocking his sad tone, “That sounds like your father’s words, Blitz, because you were my best friend. Had I ever made you feel like I wasn’t?”

“No, I don’t think—maybe it was the self-hatred,” Blitz chuckled as Fizz nodded sagely at that, “And I loved—and you were my best friend too but look how you ended up because of me. That’s what I do to people.”

Blitz let a breath out as his slip of tongue went unnoticed as Fizz walked up to him, frowning and holding a hand up to place it on his shoulder, squeezing in comfort, “Your team seems pretty fond of you,” he grinned mischievously, “So does that prince, in fact.”

Blitz didn’t know if he wanted to talk about that right now. All of them were probably out there still waiting for him to come in and explain shit. Or maybe waiting to tell him they would no longer sail with him.

“Well, now they all know how shitty I am. How I end up making everyone’s life worse.”

“Hmm,” Fizz put a hand on his hip as he held a palm to the side, “Well, I heard Princey talk to Ozzie yesterday at the palace. Something about letting you all stay here? Did he say anything to you about that?”

“Yea—yeah,” Blitz was taken aback at the amount of people who were aware of Stolas’ little idea before he was, “I can’t, though. Stolas, he—he just decided that for us. I—we had a fight just before dinner. I’ve already decided to leave.”

Blitz noticed how easy it had become to spill everything out to Fizz even after all these years. He didn’t feel even a hint of anger at the next words said, just something like disbelief and amazement.

“He said something to Ozzie about having feelings for you,” Fizz smirked at him and fucking hell, what had that guy even been saying to a fucking royal.

“He doesn’t have feelings for me,” Blitz grimaced, pinching the furrow between his brows because how many times had he already said that, “He’s just got his head stuck up his assful of fantasies all the time. I just fit into them, I was just right there. I’m just a good fuck. And now he knows I’m way more trouble than I’m worth. He won’t keep me around after this.”

“I’m really not hearing anything about you not wanting to stick around,” Fizz grinned at him and it turned into something softer as Blitz cursed his cheeks for heating up at that, “That’s also not how he talked about you. The reason why I got so angry and said all those things this evening was because I thought an asshole like you had found everything and were now going to settle close enough for me to have to watch you gloat about it all the time. He was going on about how much you all had to survive, how some of you can’t go home for a while because of something he did, how he owes you both his and his daughter’s lives and how he wants to do something for you too. Help you be free.”

Fuck, and the shit Blitz had thrown at Stolas that evening. It felt like a lifetime ago now, his rapidly risen rage so immature in the face of the courage it had taken to stand in front of one of the people in his life he had regretted wronging. Stolas seemed to have always thought about them when he asked Blitz that. It was also possibly coming from a selfish place, of course. But not…all of it maybe.

“That’s not…for him to decide,” Blitz doubled down and Fizz sighed, “He doesn’t owe me anything.”

“I don’t know, Blitz. Nobody would pretend to care so much for a fuck,” Fizz gestured around him as if to say come on, “Which, knowing you, he wouldn’t have to try very hard for in the first place.”

Blitz pouted at the ever present smirk on Fizz’s face, “Fuck you.”

“Hey, watch it,” Fizz poked a finger into his chest repeatedly, “You’re not off the hook with me yet.”

He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest and turned sideways and Blitz let out a breath.

“I know…I know,” Blitz grinned at his friend, “So, Ozzie, huh? You and the royal guy? How does that even happen?”

Something shifted in Fizz’s playful expression, something like adoration and a bit of alarm.

He turned a calculative gaze on Blitz, “Well…he’s good to me. And he got me these,” he moved his limbs pointedly and Blitz had kind of figured that out, “He’s kind of focusing on inventing better ones. And he—he always makes sure his status and duties are not a point of conflict between us, always supports me in my performances and whatever I choose to do. But…you can’t tell anyone that,” ah, that’s where the fear had come from, “It’s kind of a secret, what we have. For now. We decided on it. I’ll strangle you myself if you breathe a word about it.”

Blitz wanted to comment back, say some secret it is, I noticed it in the first minute I saw you together, but he observed the way his friend’s shoulders had risen defensively and smiled instead, “Yes, yes, okay. Huh, I’m happy for you, Fizz. Happy for what you’ve made of yourself.”

Fizz stared at him, shook his head, then leapt forwards into Blitz and pulled him into a hug. Blitz stood shocked, his hands hovering and slowly let them sit on his friend’s back, just resting there. Fizz pulled back, holding him at arm’s length, the normal length of one.

“Yeah, well, you got your own thing going,” he smiled shyly at Blitz then flicked him on the forehead before moving away, “You should probably think about talking to Princey again before leaving, though. Don’t—don’t hold yourself back, Blitz. You just need to look past his crown and hear what he’s really telling you and then say what you actually mean.”

Easier said than done, Blitz knew years of conditioning himself to fuck things up wouldn’t just be solved in one night, “Yeah, I’ll think about it. If he even would want to see my face after this.”

Fizz raised an eyebrow while pushing him towards the door, “The way he was talking about you, I think he wants to see your face way more than you think.”

Blitz didn’t try to talk to Stolas. Despite what Fizz had said, he didn’t really know Stolas or what was going on between them.

His heart was way lighter than what he had carried into Lust, his mind much clearer, but there was one thing he couldn’t yet convince himself to be untrue. Stolas would get bored of him, Stolas would throw him away as easily as he had thrown his whole life away and ran because he was sure everything in the world would work out exactly how he wanted.

Stolas had left by himself by the time he had got back to the table anyway. He had sat down, nervously looking at the exhaustion on the faces of the rest, all of them wordlessly demanding something from Blitz with the exception of Octavia who had just nodded reassuringly at him. And he had looked down at his lap and told the people he trusted the most that he would explain everything, but he would understand if they didn’t want to follow him around anymore.

Millie had just rolled her eyes and called him melodramatic and Moxxie stared down at his lap too, mumbling to Blitz that whatever he did couldn’t have been worse than the dumb things he was doing when he was still working with his father.

And shit, here Blitz was thinking he was the only one who had done some stuff he carried guilt over from before all of this. If anyone would understand, it would be them. Loona had set darkened eyes at him until he had finally broken down after all the shit that happened that evening, uncaring of all the stares from the people around them, and told them bits and pieces about his conversation with Fizz.

All in all, it had went well. His friends had stayed. His daughter had thumped him on the back, offering the end of the tablecloth to wipe his eyes and snot with, scrunching her face in disgust at it all. They were not leaving him, even after knowing the worst thing he did.

They had stood outside of the inn they were staying at, Octavia pulling all of them into a hug, muttering earnestly about how she’ll miss them and wiping off her tears harshly. Loona had just put her arm around the younger girl and they had gone up to their rooms. Blitz hoped Loona would be able to placate the kid. Millie told him that Stolas had already said his goodbyes to them when he left while Blitz was still gone, way drunker than she had seen him in their time knowing him. She put her hand on her hips and let herself be pulled by her husband to their room with a hissed “Don’t be an idiot.”

But he was an idiot. He had stood in front of Stolas’ room for a good few minutes, not being able to knock, pretending he couldn’t hear the sounds of feet puttering around and pitiful sounding wails and weeps until they faded away into silence. Then, he just walked away, his mind coming up blank, fully spent.

As they prepared to sail the next morning, early enough that the sun was still not strong enough in the sky to get rid of the fog of the night, intentionally early because Blitz didn’t want to have to say goodbye to the guy. If he even saw one tear from anybody, his resolve would shatter.

He hadn’t told his team about Stolas’ offer. Had Stolas? He seemed to have wanted to talk to Blitz before he talked to everyone else. So, maybe not.

He didn’t know if they would want that. Did they want that? It was not like they had ever complained about the way their life has been the past few years. And Blitz fully believed all of them were capable of speaking up about wanting out from this job. If they ever wanted anything from Blitz, they would just need to ask. He had gone off on Stolas and the way he had gone ahead and made assumptions about them, but so had Blitz.

It wasn’t as if Blitz was finding excuses to delay their leave, it wasn’t as if he needed the excuse of his team wanting to stay to do something about his dumb feelings. He had already made up his mind. If he stayed, Blitz would have to watch Stolas move on from him. He couldn’t just stay around while he walked around with another man, took another man to bed. His self-loathing wouldn’t survive that.

Blitz had to leave. The faster he cut off the last hanging thread, the less hope he could pile up of waiting and waiting until the last second to make it over the edge when he knew it was never possible. The less hurt he would get when there’s no other choice for him but to hit the ground below. This is the most hurt he would get away with if he left now. He will get over it.

Still, he should—

“Hey, guys?” He called out to the others, doing their work in different stages of early morning lethargy.

Moxxie looked up from his compass beside him, “Yes, sir. Did you want something?”

He waited until Loona strolled upto him with a look of confusion and Millie dropped down from one of the masts before him, “Um. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Millie noticed his hesitance and tried to lighten up the mood as she asked, “What is it, B?”

“Stolas he…asked me something yesterday. And I told him no but he did make the offer for all of us. And I had forgotten with everything that happened yesterday. But I shouldn’t really answer for all of you. I know you all said you would continue with I.M.P. but I would understand if you change your mind after hearing this.”

Blitz felt dumb standing in front of the people he would trust with his life, running a hand through hair he hadn’t dyed in a while, speaking so formally as if letting them know he’d have to let them go so they could leave to find a much better job offer.

“What is going on, dad?” Loona looked towards the city in the direction of the inn, and she had started calling him that more often nowadays, “What did he say to you?”

“He asked me if we wanted to stay in Lust. Asmodeus is willing to overlook our…pasts, as long as we don’t cause trouble in the city. You could settle down, you know, figure out your future,” he looked at the married couple who had fallen into step with each other, then at Loona, “And you. You could find some friends, find a job of your own choice, find your own place here. You could even get an education if you wanted, I’m sure Stolas would help you with that.”

Fuck, is this what Stolas had meant when he talked about living and not just surviving. Had he somehow tied these people down to a life where they would never fully be free?

“What about you?” Loona asked, her stance relaxed, looking as if she was considering seriously what he had just said, “You said you told him no.”

“Yeah…yeah,” Blitz avoided the inspecting looks M&M sent him, “I—there’s nothing for me here. Nothing for me to gain by staying but if you decide to, maybe he won’t take the offer back for you all. I’ll just leave by myself.”

Blitz wondered what that would be like. He was about to picture a future where he was back to doing odd jobs here and there, unable to sail alone, the same as he had been after the circus fire. Alone.

Loona’s growled words brought him out of it, “Are you fucking joking?”

“Loonie—“

“No!” Loona stomped up to him, a finger shoved in his chest, as she grit her teeth, “So you will what? Just leave us here? Just leave me?”

There was fury in her words but even that couldn’t disguise the hurt behind them.

“No, Loonie,” Blitz winced as the finger poked deeper in, his hands held up in front of him, “That’s not what I—I’ll come visit!”

Loona snarled as she removed her hand with a snap, walking off to the side as she muttered curses under her breath, her nose flaring.

“Why won’t you stay, B?” Millie asked him, softly, always too understanding, “I know the pirate life is very exciting but you seemed happy with the prince. Did something happen? Did you break up?”

Nevermind. Millie was absolutely a fucking lunatic.

“No, no,” Blitz shook his head, looking frantically at Loona who had punched a crack into the side of the ship, “There was nothing that serious between us in the first place, it was all just a bit of fun. So, what…do you all think?”

Moxxie who had been quietly observing and thinking until then had shut his compass back up and shoved it into his pocket as he looked straight at Blitz.

“Yeah, sir…that sounds like a good offer,” yeah, Blitz kind of knew Moxxie would be the first one to leave, the way Blitz had treated him, he knew he’d have had enough of it someday, “Millie and I do discuss what it’d be like to have a home of our own to get back to whenever possible. To be able to freely move around places, do normal people stuff,” Moxxie smiled over at Millie as they locked hands and he nodded as if mind made up.

“But, Blitz. This team means everything to us both. This is what we found when we thought we would have nothing else. We found each other, and we found the best captain we could ask for,” Blitz blinked rapidly at him as Moxxie grumbled the last part, “Thank you, sir, for letting us decide for ourselves. But we follow you. I’ll go with you if you don’t want to stay.”

I’ll go with you. Not us, not me and Millie, but just him. Moxxie wanted to work with Blitz even after everything.

“Yeah, B, don’t be a fucking idiot,” the same words from last night, Millie glared affectionately at him, “As if you’d survive even a day without us. If we really wanted something like that one day, we’ll figure something out, alright? Something that works for all of us.”

Blitz wouldn’t cry, he had enough of crying for the last few days, he blinked back the blurriness taking over his eyes, “You—I don’t—thanks, you two. What about—what about you, Loonie?”

Loona was glaring at the water hitting the shores like it had personally offended her, she sneered at him and M&M, scuffing her boots along the wood of the floorboards.

“Ugh, this would absolutely be what I’d have wanted a few years ago, to get away from you dumbasses,” Blitz winced at that and Loona noticed it, the next words coming out quieter, “But you know what, asshole. You’re not getting rid of me this easily.”

Loona rolled her eyes, clenching her jaw, as Blitz burst into tears, babbling about never having wanted to get rid of her and how proud he was of her. He tried to hug her and was surprised at the way she just let him. Moxxie and Millie joined in as they fell into a group pile of sorts, before Blitz tearily commanded them to start setting sail again, wiping his face with the crook of his elbow.

It was later that night, with Moxxie keeping lookout, and Blitz forcing himself to avoid thinking about the way his bed felt empty, Stolas’ scent fading from it replaced by the damp woody smell of the ship and the seawater outside, that Loona had knocked once as she threw his door open.

He pulled up the blanket to his neck, trying to subtly wipe off his tears when he noticed the very familiar book in Loona’s hand.

“I don’t—“ she said, her breath stuttering as she held out Stolas’ ornate fancy book, whatever he called it, “He left me his Grimoire a few nights before we docked in Lust,” oh, that’s what it was called, “To learn some—anyways, I forgot to give it back and he didn’t ask for it either. Here, I think you should keep it for now.”

Oh yeah, he should probably find a place to hide it. Blitz shook off the exhaustion he was drowning in and fuck, he needed like a week’s sleep in his cold, lonely fucking bed, and reached out to take the heavy book from Loona’s hand.

The pages were maintained well despite it looking like had existed before Blitz was born, long before he was born. As he moved to throw it onto his desk, he noticed the absence of all the novels Stolas kept on there, neatly stacked in a corner. There was a faint scent of lavender, and the primal part of his brain had finally put a name to it, around the book in his hand, and if he held it to his chest a little tight, he hoped Loona would just pretend not to notice.

“We could—“ Loona cleared her throat, walking back to the door and standing with her hand on the handle, “Do you think we should go back, if only to return it? It seemed something very important to him.”

Blitz stared at his daughter, she didn’t seem to be lying about Stolas having given her the book for studying, he did use to do that sometimes. It did look like they would need to give it back, just…not yet.

He smiled at his daughter as she almost stepped out of the room, the door half shut as she waited for an answer.

“Sure, Loonie. Maybe someday.”

Chapter Text

“You go around, B, I’ll run after him,” Millie shouted at him as she grinned and gave chase to their target who was darting straight into an alley. Dumbass. Blitz huffed at Millie’s glee as he ran to the next alley over to block him from the other end, his legs aching from having followed the fucker out of his place from a seedy part of town.

Where even was Moxxie and Loona? Moxxie had already shot the fucker through his window in the right shoulder before he dodged the next shot, escaping from the room. Loona had run into the old, cracked building towards the first floor to try and corner him. But she hadn’t managed to do it for some reason, and Blitz threw his doubts about that out as he saw the guy move past him from where he and Millie had stood by the building. Whatever, he hoped they would catch up as soon as Blitz was done putting a bullet in his head.

He smirked menacingly as the target halted to a stop, face pale and eyes widened as Blitz stepped out to block the path in front of him. He panted as he leaned sideways against the brick wall next to him, holding onto his bleeding shoulder.

Millie walked up behind him, her sword swinging playfully at the air and Blitz signalled to her to pause.

“Sorry, bitch, end of line for you,” Blitz didn’t know for the most part what pushed these people to hire trained killers to pay so much money to kill the people they do and he had never particularly cared. Every job was only about half paying attention to their client as they rambled to them about how they felt wronged and counting the coins they were owed once they had finished. But, at least they didn’t need to crowd a fucker and rip him into shreds.

“Who—before you do it, who asked you to kill me?”

Ah, motherfucker, Blitz pulled his pistol out, tapping the tip of the barrel to the side of his own forehead while looking at the begging look on the soon to be dead guy’s face.

“The bitch you cheated on,” or at least, that’s what Blitz was told by their client. That’s all he needed to know, anyways.

The man tried to stand upright, wincing as he slumped back onto the wall instead, “I didn’t! I didn’t—she just wants my research. Her new man wants to sell it as his own for the fame.”

There you go, the excuse, Blitz exchanged amused looks with Millie as he shrugged and moved towards the guy, “Yeah, great story. Not interested, though. How do I know you’re not lying?”

The guy slunk down to the ground, his back pressed against the wall, acceptance overtaking his features as he said between gasps of painful looking breaths, “I’m not. She threatened our daughter when I refused her and that’s when I ran for it. Took all my research papers. I didn’t expect her to stoop so low as to do this,” the guy chuckled to himself and Blitz hesitated, his pistol raised mid air, “You can have it all—take those papers. I won’t speak a word. Just—I have to get back home.”

Shit.

The guy’s face was colourless and sweaty due to the blood loss and Blitz watched as he shut his eyes, still muttering about having to go back home, and dinner, and putting someone to sleep.

Suddenly that face blurred into Stolas’ look of desperation as he asked Blitz to help him to Wrath, to Lust, anywhere but away from their family. His attempts at asking Blitz to stay with him, the pleading tone. That empty look in his eyes as he talked about that fucking scar.

Blitz absently put the pistol back into his waistband, feeling as though someone else was moving his hands for him as Millie sent him a confused stare, her sword still held securely.

“Blitz,” Loona shouted from behind Millie, rushing up to them way too fast to not be out of panic, “There was a fucking baby in that house! That’s why the fucker made a run for it away from there.”

Fuck.

The guy was losing consciousness, his eyes opening forcefully as he heard Loona talk about his kid, his breath quickening at that as he glared right at Blitz.

“Where the fuck is Moxxie?” Blitz moved forward as he took off his coat and bent down on a knee near their target, taking a knife and cutting open his shirt to expose the wound. Then he balled up his coat, pressing it on the bullet lodged wound as the guy groaned at that.

“What’re you doing, B?” Millie looked stunned as she watched Blitz, her mouth hanging open a little as if she wasn’t understanding what was happening. It didn’t feel right, Millie always understood the kind of shit Blitz was getting up to, “This is what’s going to pay for our meals the next few months we’re on the sea.”

“We can’t, fuck,” Blitz slapped the guy not very softly a few times to keep him awake until he shifted with a whimper and his eyes looked around dazed, mumbling out someone’s—his daughter’s—name, fuck, “We’ll look for another job. Come on, where the fuck is your little bitch?”

“He stayed behind to go through some of his stuff,” Loona kneeled down next to him, holding out a pouch of water and tilting the guy’s head up a little, squeezing his cheeks to open his mouth. She trickled water near the guy’s mouth as he gulped it instinctively, then she moved the water to pour it on the wound as Blitz removed the coat from over it, “He can find out if this one’s lying.”

“I’m not,” the guy mumbled angrily, his eyes blue but somehow all Blitz saw was that fucking red-gold, “Take my research over to them and see what they care about,” Loona dumped some more water into his mouth, splashing some on his face as Blitz pressed the wound back up, “Please, can you take my daughter to—“

“Yeah, no, you have to stay alive for this,” Blitz moved the coat away and noticed the blood had stopped flowing, the border around the sunk mound of flesh clotting up. He sighed in relief, putting the coat back on, “If we find out this was all a lie, I’ll tear you a new asshole myself.”

They ended up taking the man back to the house after tying the wound up with his cut up shirt, making sure to keep pouring water down his throat. Blitz lay the guy on the narrow bed in the small living space as Moxxie brought a few papers over from the next room over, dull wailing of a baby coming from behind the shut door.

Moxxie took one look at Blitz’s nauseated face and got to working on fixing the guy up, talking to Millie about some supplies he would need. Blitz walked out of the building by himself, not sure how much Moxxie will be able to do, pretending he didn’t hear the questions from Loona. He walked to the fancy mansion of the two who had ordered the hit, snuck in through a window of an office he saw them in, held out the papers to them.

They seemed besides themselves with joy, both man and woman, promising to pay Blitz extra. Asking Blitz if he had taken care of the child as well while laughing to themselves. Blitz looked straight into their eyes as he let out a short chuckle with them and kicked them to their knees before shooting them both through their foreheads, watching in satisfaction as the bodies slumped to the expensive as shit looking carpet.

They had been staying in Envy for a few days after having left Lust and Blitz was doing fine. He wasn’t sitting around spending whatever money they had stored on large amounts of piled up foods that he barely ate the last few days, he wasn’t. He stayed away from the alcohol because he wasn’t going to drink himself to death to feel something other than the intense regret and guilt, he had no reason to. He was fine.

He had bought a shit ton of weird, raunchy novels, and some other books about stars and mythical sea creatures and shit he thought Stolas might enjoy, some weird bug corpses he thought might make Octavia happy, and then he had remembered he wouldn’t be returning to them on the ship. Then he had proceeded to buy himself anything horse shaped he could find, Loona hardly managing to drag him away from buying an actual horse at the last second. He did buy a few wood carvings that looked like owls being sold by a grinning child with a broken tooth, looked at the wide eyes, the pointed nose—beak, and immediately threw them in the stove at the pub’s kitchen, feeling extremely shitty as he did so and not even knowing why.

Then his team had sat down in front of him one evening at a table as he was reading through a novel, trying his best to take in all of the words as he grumbled curses at the fool of a love interest for falling for the obvious manipulations of the main character. Millie dropped a fist on the table, grabbing his attention as he tried to hold onto the edges to stop it from flipping over, and they let him know with held back irritation and pursed smiles that they needed to find a job. They needed to stock up the ship and ration stuff up before they set sail again.

But where would they even go? Millie couldn’t go back to Wrath, none of them could, not yet. Blitz wanted to wait at least a few more months before they tried it. Blitz and Moxxie weren’t ever setting foot in Greed and Blitz would rather shoot himself through his open mouth than take Loona back to Gluttony unless she suggested it first. That left them with Sloth but that would take them fucking months and they would have to disguise themselves because they had strict laws against pirates at their docks.

They could have gone to Pride but they had heard rumours flying around in Mayberry’s inn from travelling merchants about the Goetia family tearing through the island and surrounding waters in search for missing family whose ship had been attacked. And shit, Blitz didn’t know what the fuck to do.

So he had accepted the first job he got because Martha had started giving him dirty looks, a finger running promisingly down a blade of a knife, as days went by where they stayed at their inn without paying. And, this is where he ended up now. Running out of the dumb mansion, grabbing and stuffing into his stained coat whatever expensive shit he could on the way, as the servants caused a commotion at discovering the bodies.

Now, they would really need to leave. The guy he killed, who owned the mansion, was clearly someone important, if he was willing to pay that much to kill someone for a bunch of papers.

He walked back in to their ex-target’s place, panting and crushing the papers with the firm hold his fingers had on them. Millie was sitting to the side as Moxxie was finishing wrapping the bandages on the guy, and she looked pissed. She huffed at him and turned her face to the side as he walked up to the guy and Blitz could feel her glaring disappointment and contempt aimed like ice daggers at his back.

He handed the papers back to the guy who droopily thanked them and Moxxie explained what he would need to do for recovery. As Moxxie then left to entertain the baby in the next room, Blitz dropped his head and turned an apologetic look at Loona as they stood in the small kitchen area, the stove area filled with glasses and beakers and strange glass pipes with markings and strong smelling chemicals. She crossed her arms and sadly nodded in understanding.

They were ready to sail away the next day after having made sure to clean up after themselves enough to ensure the guy and his daughter’s safety, the lawmen already spreading around looking for the culprits of the murders.

“You won’t tell me what happened between you two?” Blitz blinked rapidly, wondering if the pleasant winter sun was making him daydream as Millie approached him a few days after. After not talking to him since they left Envy. Blitz had made the decision that they would stick to looting whatever ship they came across for the time being until he got his shit together.

“Nothing happened, Mills,” Blitz tried not to sound too rude, Millie would absolutely not hesitate to throw him overboard if he tried that shit after everything he pulled at their last job. He stood at the steering wheel, his gloved hands holding it in place, as she came up to stand next to him, “That’s the thing, isn’t it? Nothing did happen.”

Millie sat beside him, her elbows on her knees and her head cradled in her hands, a warm coat pulled over her usual sleeveless blouses. Not even her resistance to almost every shitty situation and even shittier friend could stand against the cold that was setting in, it appeared.

“Did you want…something to happen?” Millie questioned, her voice sounding unsure as she looked at him, “I’ve never seen you like this. I thought you said you two were just fucking. Multiple times, whenever I asked.”

Yeah, sure. Whatever. Blitz snorted as he kept hold of the wheel as a strong wave went under them.

“Did you catch feelings?”

Blitz stared at the thick spokes of the wheel in between his hands, his mind flashing back to the time when he had attempted to teach Stolas how to steer and it had just ended in them bickering about Blitz’s poor teaching methods and Blitz had cornered him against the wheel, promising lowly about how he could give some real good lessons as that obvious blush had risen high on those cheeks. He smiled.

“Huh, me,” he scoffed to the side at Millie, “And you call yourself my best friend.”

“Did Stolas catch feelings?”

None of the three had said either of those names in front of Blitz since Lust. Those names used to be called out around the ship so much before that.

Fuck, Blitz missed them. Loona had put on a tough front, she always did. But he observed now more than ever as she went through her books out in the open, sometimes throwing shit out of frustration, scowling as she called Moxxie over if he was near to discuss some things in them. She asked them to spar with her almost all the time they were free, she was spending most of her time around at least one of them at all times. Before she would just shut herself in her room whenever she didn’t have anything to do. She was feeling their absence too and she wouldn’t talk about it.

“Blitz.”

Blitz pulled away from the steer, tying the rope to them to keep it steady. He stood beside where she sat, leaning over the railing.

“Come on, Millie.”

“Did he…say something?” Millie asked, accusingly. She reclined against the side of the ship, looking up at Blitz to make eye contact.

She wouldn’t leave it alone, Blitz knew this woman could very well punch the answers out of him if she needed to but fuck, she was trying to talk to him like she was afraid of hurting him.

“Yeah, so he said he had some kind of feelings for me, whatever that means,” Blitz and like three other people already knew, so why not Millie, “Wanted to take things further. But he was just talking out of his ass. I mean, the guy was lonely as fuck,” Blitz chuckled lowly because he doubted Stolas was the lonely one right at that moment, “And all repressed and shit. Never fucked anyone properly before me, can you imagine? Someone like me, his first fuck. He probably got confused by everything going on in his mind, right?”

“That’s why he asked if we wanted to stay,” Millie looked at him with wide eyes, “Why he wanted to clear our names and give us a place to stay. A fresh start. Because he wanted you to stay. He really did care about you. Huh. Who knew you’d get a prince to fall in love with you.”

Blitz let out a shocked laugh at Millie’s thoughtful look and faltered when she looked really serious about what was coming out of her mouth.

“In love,” Blitz said maniacally, brushing his hair strands back with both hands, frowning at the grittiness of the chalk dye he had started to wear again, “You have to be joking, Mills. It was—was just a misunderstanding on his part, nothing more.”

“Oh, you’re still a dumbass, then,” Millie sighed in pretend relief as she put a hand to her chest, “I thought fucking the guy would transfer some of his smarts to you.”

“Is that how it works with you and Moxxie?” He raised an eyebrow, teasingly.

She glared at him for a good few minutes making Blitz back away a bit before she grinned bright and shiny, “No.”

They laughed at that and she touched his hand as he brought it back to his side, “So, you think he misunderstood his feelings for you. What about you, though? You never said anything about not feeling the same. And the way you’ve been acting—“

“Ugh,” Blitz rolled his eyes to hide the fact that he felt like he needed to take his heart out and fling it out into the sea at that question, the same thing Fizz had said to him too, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Blitz—“

“Sir!” Moxxie yelled out from the crow’s nest, his voice stretched thin from the cough he had caught a few days ago and was recovering from, his telescope extended fully and pointed at the distance, “There’s a ship approaching.”

“Great,” Blitz called back, sighing at the distraction, and there he saw it, a dot in the horizon, “Keep an eye out for the flag. It can be our chance at some good old pirating.”

“Good,” Millie pulled herself to stand with a groan, locking her fingers and cracking them with a hum, “I was getting bored.”

Blitz grinned at the excitement in his friend’s face.

Except, as they prepared their weapons and their explosives, brought it all out on the main deck with all of them on high alert, and steadied their sails to make sure they stayed moving in the direction of the approaching vessel as it drew nearer and nearer that day and the next, Blitz felt alarm grip his very being. Because that definitely wasn’t a regular fucking merchant ship.

It was huge and sturdy, cannon doors lined up all around its body. As Blitz climbed up to look at the flag, he recognised the same Goetia symbols flying regal and proud and fuck, he scampered down and ordered the three to immediately steer off course. It was too fucking late but they needed to find a way to move around the ship, put enough distance that they don’t take much damage from the cannons.

He forced himself to stay calm, thinking about what the fuck they should do next, as all four of them sprinted and scrambled around trying to do just that. He had to keep it together, he had to keep them all safe.

Just as their ship was starting to swerve and sail in another direction, Blitz felt his eardrums thunder as cannonball shot from the very swiftly approaching ship hit their main mast. The mast blew into pieces and Blitz stared in horror, his ears ringing, as Moxxie was lost in the dust caused by the blast, having been near the mast. He fumbled around trying to hold onto something to steady himself as their ship almost went sideways at the impact and watched helpless as Millie growled loudly and jumped into the mess of splintered wood.

He turned to his daughter, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from where she was gaping at their impending doom. They had an escape boat, if he could distract those royals by himself long enough then—

“Loonie. Loonie, take the boat and leave, please. Take those two.”

Loona stared at him, panic-stricken. Blitz would be shocked at it if he wasn’t feeling that deep sense of paralysing fear in his depths too.

“No.” That is not what Blitz wanted to hear right now.

He raised his voice at his daughter for the first time since he had found her, those eyes holding the same fear then as they held now, “Loona. It’s an order from your captain.”

As another cannonball fell through the floorboard on the opposite side, Blitz turned around, pushing her back behind him as Millie checked over the bleeding spot on Moxxie’s head after she pulled him out.

“And as your daughter,” Loona stood beside him, glowering as the ship sailed close enough to start dropping planks onto theirs, the shadow of the huge vessel looming on them, “You can go shove that order up your ass.”

Blitz stared at the resolute and unwavering looks in his team’s eyes as they were hit on the back of their knees by uniformed guards and his knees hit the wooden boards painfully. People ran onto their ship, their boots thundering over the floorboards, some of them running towards the cabins and the brig, ransacking his ship. Their ship.

All the people parted as a tall, slender man in a dark blood-red cloak wrapped from collar to toe stepped foot onto the ship with a look of absolute disgust at having to soil his shoes there. And Blitz knew a fucking royal when he saw one. The big one, the most important one it seemed, as everyone around them bowed to him.

Blitz grimaced as a loud, throaty laughter rang and a woman stepped out from behind the tall man, pointing at the destruction caused to another man dressed in all white with a snobbish grin on his face. She called them low lives, her hand on her hips, and Blitz finally realised exactly where Octavia had got her lighter eyes from.

He felt the tremors of his team, his family, run through him as they huddled as close as they could and tried not to let any of it show in front of their captors. The guards pointed guns at their heads and ordered them to put their hands behind their head. Blitz noticed several more nobles standing on the deck of the other vessel, in their clothes expensive and too impractical for long sea travel, staring down at them in disinterest, and cruel delight, as Blitz’s whole life fell apart right in front of his eyes in the flash of a few minutes.

“So,” the tall man in the red cloak spoke up, his tone reminding him of Stolas the first night he had captured him on the Goetian vessel, and he waved aside the guard holding the gun at Blitz’s forehead so he could peer down at him, “Where is my son?”

“Son?” Blitz sneered at him and the man raised a thin eyebrow at him from under the shadow of his enormous crown, and shit, that looked heavy, “You think I’d stow away a fucking Goetia on my ship? Do I look that stupid?”

The man waved off the guard who was about to hit Blitz around his head for that and called out to the man beside Octavia’s mother, fuck if he could recall her name right now, “Andrealphus.”

The fuck kind of name was that. Stolas should really be fucking thankful to his family just for how easy he got away with his name.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the man in all pristine white, travelling in a fucking ship for months, clapped his hands delicately once as he called out to the other ship, “You! Come here and tell us if these are the people you saw kidnapping our beloved Stolas and Octavia. Their flag surely does match your description.”

Blitz was so busy glaring at the ice mountain-like designs on the man’s coat, because did every Goetia have a fucking theme or something going on, that he almost missed Moxxie’s gasp from somewhere beside him. He looked forwards, his hands behind his head and immediately clutched at the hairs on the back of his head at the fucking bone deep rage that rose at the sight of fucking Striker stepping onto their ship beside the Goetia.

That fucking rat. He looked real fucking happy too, sneering down at Blitz through one eye, the other side of his face covered in bandages.

He had gotten away with a blown up hand from the wrist downward and a huge burn around one side of his face and neck and probably extending down his muted outfit. And all of his fucking hypocrisy. All that talk about royals and their privilege and how he hated them, Blitz clenched his jaw, and here he was going out of his way ratting them out to the same bitches.

“Yes, Your Highness,” if the royals heard him spit that word out like a curse, they didn’t say anything, “They are the ones, alright. Saw them take away those Goetias from Wrath.”

Fuck, he should have personally stayed behind to make sure the light left this motherfucker’s eyes.

“Hmm, did you take them to Lust, then?” Blitz was addressed by the man he now knew to be the Goetian King, Stolas’ father, as he had met him outside a palace when he was a child. Still as imposing, just a few more gray hairs. He hoped this fucker wouldn’t recognise him, Stolas hadn’t.

“He’s asking you, scum,” the woman screeched, pulling up the skirt of her puffy white gown roughly as she strode over and damn, if Blitz had any doubts about losing his hearing from the cannon blasts, he was sure now that he hadn’t, “Where did you take my husband and my daughter?”

Well, he wished he had. Because that half-assed attempt at concern that she tried to fake, in her grating voice, he could definitely do without hearing it because now he felt his head pulsate with boiling anger.

Oh, she’s so fucking worried about the man she threw around on the regular, isn’t she? Blitz spit at her feet, smirking as she shrieked and backed away.

“Go fuck yourself, woman,” he locked eyes with Paimon, ignoring the way Loona shoved into him, hissing at him to shut up, “I don’t know what he’s talking about,” he tilted his head at Striker, “What proof do you have that we’re the ones who had them or took them anywhere? It’s just his word.”

The King smiled at him, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, looking towards where his guards were searching through their ship. Waiting.

“We found something, Your Highness,” one of the guards came upto the King and Blitz’s eyes widened as Loona cursed under her breath, the Grimoire he had stashed away under a floorboard under his bed that morning was being handed to the King.

Oh, fuck, they were all going to die. How could he be so stupid. Oh, the ringing in his ears was back.

“This is a very precious heirloom of the Goetia,” the King said, looking the book over with casual interest and then in a stricter voice, “Anything you have to say about why someone like you has a hold of it?”

“What nerve, did you steal it from him?” The guy decked out in snowflakes and fur pointed at them, “Peasants and dirty criminals like you trying to act way above your stations, stealing precious royal family heirlooms and taking princes captive. Did you think none of it would catch up to you? Do you take us for fools?”

Blitz snickered in amusement, knowing how out of place it was at that moment, but huh, if only they knew who really had played them all for fools by running away with his daughter. And in exactly how many ways and positions he had acted above his station with their precious prince.

“We’re setting sail for Lust,” the King said, his gaze boring into Blitz, at his forehead, handing over the book to a kneeling guard.

“What about them, Your Highness?” Ice queen asked and the woman laughed as she replied, “I suggest we make them walk the plank.”

Blitz snapped his teeth at her to her shock but the King waved to his guards, paying no attention to the two nobles, “Bring them along.”

As the four of them were pulled forcefully to their feet and marched over to the other ship, the King stared out into the horizon as he said directly to Blitz as they passed him, “I’m afraid my son will not be drawn out so easily.”

Blitz felt his blood freeze over, a guard having to push him the rest of the way to the other ship as the other nobles gave them a wide berth.

“What about their ship?” A guard bowed to the King as the three of them and Striker stepped back on their own royal vessel.

The King stared past him right at Blitz, his gaze too knowing, too calculating.

“Oh? Burn it.”

And that was the thing Blitz heard as he felt a strong, blunt hit behind his head, making his vision blurry and his eyes roll to the back of his head as the world around him went dark.

Blitz had failed his people. He had taken them with him, forced them to put up with his bullshit, somehow convinced them to stay with him and now they were all in deep fucking shit.

After he had come to in the dark brig of the Goetian vessel, coughing at the damp, chill air and the itch in his throat, the back of his head throbbing like a bitch, he had looked around, holding back sobs and desperately calling out for the rest of them.

Loona had responded from where she was leaning up against a corner, hushing him and telling him to save his voice. She informed him that he had been out for the whole day since they had been thrown into the cell. M&M had been leaning on each other, their eyes closed, a little away from him and Blitz had crawled over scared, to check if they were knocked out cold too, until he watched their chests move with their breaths, small snores filling the air. They were just too exhausted to respond to his calls of their names.

Blitz had noticed, unsettled, as Millie had whimpered and clutched at her left arm where a jagged, deep bleeding spot was blooming, probably from when she had jumped to drag Moxxie out. Blitz knew that wasn’t good. If not treated, it would get horribly infected, and he yelled and yelled until his voice thinned out into the dark space and towards the stairs to those rich fuckers to send them someone to get it taken care of.

Loona had blankly stared ahead and sighed as she let him know that someone had come in and told them they would only get what was required to be kept alive until they reached Asmodeus’ palace where they most definitely will be executed. Their coats had been taken, leaving them shivering in the brig and so had the weapons they kept on them. Blitz had slumped down to the ground at that, knocking his forehead against the metal bars.

It was all his fault, even if Millie had told him otherwise, putting on a tired, reassuring grin when she woke up. They were being fed once a day and given only the bare minimum of water each that Moxxie had refused to drink, using his bowl instead to keep Millie’s wound clean the first couple of days. Until Blitz had hit him over the head and told him they couldn’t afford to have two people incapacitated this way and they shared his bowl of water between them.

It was his fault he hadn’t seen this coming. Except, he had seen this coming and it was still his fault for messing around with something he shouldn’t have.

What had he been thinking, brushing aside every unspoken rule they had stuck by just because he had fucking gazed into those beautiful eyes and had been hooked. When he had heard that high melodic voice talking and crying sweetly and had decided to throw all of their safety to the wind. What had he been thinking, pissing off Striker, carrying them to Lust. Fucking that guy over and over again enough times to grow an attachment, imagining what it would be like if they could become a family, them and their daughters. He hadn’t been thinking and that was it, wasn’t it?

Even as he dropped in and out of consciousness as days went by, easily dismissing the gnawing hunger cramps in his stomach, trying to save his strength in sleep, anchored only by the crushing grip he had on his mother’s brooch and the apologies he kept spilling out to his team, no, his daughter and friends, he knew he wouldn’t have done things any different if given another chance.

There was no way he was going to regret meeting Stolas and Octavia and letting them stay. The last few months had all been worth it, even if it was all overshadowed by guilt. And if he had to, he would take responsibility for all of it when they reached Lust. If it was the last thing he had to do, he would make sure these fuckers did not find out Stolas and his daughter and that his team would walk out of their hands alive.

The one thing that happened in the days, weeks, Blitz doubted it had been months the speed that this ship could pick up, it took for them to finally see the daylight again, was a Goetia noble coming to visit them. With a person in tow carrying a first aid box and holding a dimly lit lantern.

He didn’t look disgusted at having to be down there, not looking at them like they were the dirt under his foot, as he unlocked their cell and asked them to not attack the other, more timid looking guy as he treated any injuries they may have. He had been a tall man, they were all fucking tall, in a red coat and white breeches and gold-framed glasses, his tan brown hands putting the lantern in front of Blitz, looking suspiciously at him and a bit troubled.

“Did Stolas ask you to take them to Lust?” He had asked, watching as the guy wrapped Millie’s arm up after disinfecting it.

Blitz had snorted at that, turning away from the light, “What new technique is this to get me to confess? Show of concern and sympathy, really? Get fucked.”

The man had ordered the healer to go back up first, locking the cell door as he walked out. Then he had paced around, frustrated, as he brought out two loaves of bread from under his coat and dropped it onto an empty bowl. Blitz blinked up at him as Loona had crept forward and taken one of them, her stomach the only thing growling those days.

“Why did Stolas trust you to do that? He clearly did, otherwise why did you all just not bring him back to Pride to ransom him back to his family?” He had asked, a hand on his chin, “Look, I know you won’t trust me but I’m just trying to help.”

“Fuck off, already,” Blitz had waved his hands dismissively as Moxxie opened his mouth, they already knew Stolas had been on the ship, was anything else needed to incriminate them, “I won’t let you all get your stupid fancy claws into him or his daughter again.”

The man had stared at him at that, assessing him, and then nodded to himself as he left with the source of light. Blitz did wonder for a while what that was about.

Oh, Striker sure had slunk down to gloat, telling him all about how he had immediately gone to Pride after recovering enough from their attack to a very pissed off party of Goetias and told them about how he had seen the two around in Wrath and was about to rescue them when Blitz had kidnapped them right off his hands.

“What did I tell you, clown?” He had laughed, glaring at them through one eye, holding his mangled hand up, “Never leave survivors.”

Blitz had ignored the fucker until he was done with his rant and then thrown that encounter out of his mind, in case he used up the rest of his strength that wasn’t there to just bite through the bars of the cell and strangle him even if would be the last thing he would do.

Soon enough, or maybe not soon enough, Blitz scoffed, as they were dragged to their feet, tied up in cuffs with connecting chains and pulled along as they tried not to crash into one another.

He had to squint at the bright sunlight of midday even as all four of them started shaking as soon as they were brought out of the brig, their clothes damp, dirty, smelly, hair all tangled and greasy and skin muddy and ashy. Fuck, Blitz wondered if these people would let them clean up if only to avoid being in a closed room with them. Or as a last wish.

They were paraded around openly in the streets of Lust all the way to Asmodeus’ palace, and Blitz felt his legs tremble with the effort it took to walk the distance in his weakened state. The people of the city gawked at the whole herd of royals in open-roofed carriages ahead of them, muttering and gossiping about the exciting day to come.

Asmodeus had sent a quick nervous glance at the whole thing towards them as they were made to kneel in front of him at the palace halls. Stolas’ father, whom Asmodeus addressed as King Paimon, had coldly asked the other royal if he was aware of the two Goetia being sheltered in his city since the time these criminals had dropped them off.

Asmodeus had just sighed, flinging his purple robes in agitation as he gestured the king and all the rest of the Goetias in the direction of what he said was the courtroom to wait, assuring them that he will immediately send guards all over the city to find the two and drag them out. Paimon had nodded satisfied at that and walked off down a corridor as guided by an advisor of Asmodeus.

As the four of them were ordered to be handed over to Asmodeus’ guards and were left behind by the Goetian ones, Blitz looked up at the towering man pleadingly, his voice breaking as he lowered his head.

“Please, Your Highness,” he whispered and Asmodeus’ guards looked away as their king glared at them, pretending to not listen in as they lightly held onto them, “You have to get those two away from here. I know I can’t demand this from you, but please. Stow them away on a ship, give them a heads up to make a run for it. You’ve talked to him, you know they can’t go back to these people.”

He would not let Stolas fall back into the hands of his bitch of a wife. He wouldn’t let them manipulate Octavia’s life like that.

Asmodeus stared at him in pity as he looked to the side, thinking. Then he had stepped closer and pinched his nose with his fingers and waved at the air in front of him.

“Right, I guess a quick wash up and change of clothes can be arranged for all of you. It’ll buy both us and Stolas some time,” Blitz felt the way all of their heads snapped up at the royal trying to help them, “Go with the guards, Blitz, and don’t try to fight any of it, or try to escape. Then I might have to deal with an angry Goetia King for that,” he looked down at Blitz and his guards pulled them to their feet, eyes narrowed in warning at him.

And who would Blitz even fight like this? Even if they managed to, even if they managed to escape, where would they go? Now there won’t be anywhere in the seven islands and Solomon that people will not be looking for them if word got out that they were wanted by a royal family.

He watched Moxxie smile gratefully at the king, sniffling as he wiped his tears tears with his arms, thanking him for the help.

“Yes, I’ll—I’ll go try to make up some excuse with them. Entertain them, talk about the fucking weather or something while you all get there. Stay calm and don’t say anything that will get you killed,” Asmodeus flicked a wrist and his guards guided the four of them towards a different corridor and Blitz stopped himself from snapping back that it probably wouldn’t matter what they say or didn’t say. They were going to be killed anyways.

He smiled instead, bowing his head at him. He nudged Loona who had been muffling her sobs into the crook of her elbow, trying to act strong even in the face of death and she glared at him. Blitz was really fucking glad he got to see that glare aimed at him after all those weeks in the cell where Loona had barely responded to anybody, shrinking away to a corner, coming away from there only to eat. Millie brought Moxxie, his chest heaving with tears, closer to her, the bandage on her arm very dirty and he wondered if he can at least push the guards to change it quickly.

They were left in a bare room, their cuffs unlocked, and were asked to quickly wash up and left with thin, white, plain clothes probably meant for prisoners of the king. At least it was something clean and warm. As he sat back and let his team go first, he knew that the moment he would walk into that courtroom, he was prepared to take all the blame himself. He had no regrets leading up to that decision.

Well, he could have done with watching and drawing Octavia and Loona sparring and arguing and playing around again as they should. All of them sitting and making a ruckus at a wobbly kitchen table on a now burned down and sunk ship. Finding Millie and Moxxie shoving their tongues down each other’s throat in the most unexpected places and teasing until Moxxie went red-faced.

He grinned as the two came out of the bathroom they were allowed to wash up in, dressed in the clothes given, looking much cleaner as they held each other, whispering comforting words. Millie had taken off her bandages, leaving the wound bare and Blitz was glad to note it had closed up well. Maybe he should thank that noble.

Maybe he could have done with another look at the other Goetia who ruined him.

He groaned at the painful stretch of his muscles as he walked into the room after Loona had come out, looking at the copper pipe running water into a bucket, his face reflected back to him, the corners of his eyes tight and the look in them hollow even as his mouth corners were lifted as if in mockery of the state he was in. He pat a hand down into the surface to distort the image.

Maybe he should have fucked Stolas in that fancy outfit that last night. If only they hadn’t ruined it all with all those words and then talks about a future, Blitz exhaled a contented breath as he used a cloth to clean himself up. Huh. He imagined what it would have been like to lick up the tears running down that flushed cheek as he trembled on the edge of release as Blitz thrusted into him. Wondered what it would have been like to just close his eyes and enjoy the sickeningly sweet pet names thrown out at him, to say some back and mean them.

He shook off the water he had poured over his head from his hair, watching the white dye flow down, wiping the trails of rest of it from his face after.

To just allow himself to melt into the soft press of kisses instead of always grumbling about it, pretending he didn’t like it. That gentleness that made him want to crawl somewhere deep and cold within his skin and scream until his nerves went numb.

They could have figured something out, why was it that they all wanted so much more than they were allowed.

He pinned the skull brooch to a side of his round collar, brushing over the slightly worn paint softly, and walked out of the bathroom.

“Hey guys,” he shuddered at the unnecessarily soft material of the new cloths, his hair dripping water onto his shoulders with how long it had become, “You know I love you all, right?”

Blitz beamed at the speechless, slack jawed staring from his family, ignoring the “What the fuck?” sent from Moxxie, and knocked at the door to let the guards know they were done.

He sighed as they were cuffed back up, smiling softly at the way Millie shoved a shoulder into him, silent question in her gaze. He tangled their hands together, his other hand around Loona’s wrist.

Fuck, he should have told Stolas how pretty his voice was when he sang, when he rambled on, and when he stuttered to twitchy, squeaking stops as Blitz interrupted him from telling those outlandish stories by making fun of him. What would it have been like to just let Stolas read those out to him and try to understand what he was so fascinated by as they lay in bed, or on the main deck, or in a house somewhere, and Stolas ran his fingers calmingly, tenderly, through Blitz’s hair the way he had done one night and never again when Blitz had grabbed his thin wrists and pushed them off.

How Blitz would love to tell that know-it-all that he was right, Blitz did want to stay with him. If he had, maybe the people he loved wouldn’t be here, waiting to be killed.

And thinking Blitz would ever let that happen.

He squeezed Loona’s hand and let go, facing the huge thick doors they were brought to a stop in front of.

Maybe he did have some regrets after all.

Chapter Text

Brushing a strand of hair back from his face and tucking it behind an ear, Stolas exhaled a long, long breath, his body going slack as he hung up his apron.

He absentmindedly noted that his hair had grown a bit longer the last few weeks, wondering if he should risk asking Octavia to trim it for him. Counting the bare minimal tips he had earned that day and massaging a tight, tense shoulder, he rolled his eyes as he recalled the way that one diner had yelled at him first thing as he started his shift for serving a stew that apparently wasn’t salted enough. He sighed in irritation quietly in the small storeroom for the employees. Rich people really were pricks, Blitz had been so right. Before this, he would never have even thought about it. People who can afford meals and drinks at places like this but wouldn’t at all think twice about the people that served them.

It had been four long months since I.M.P had left Lust without a proper goodbye. The chill in the air from then had turned to a bone shuddering cold and Stolas thought back to that day as he pulled on his dark red coat over his clothes.

Stolas had been woken up the next afternoon after that disastrous dinner by a rapid and very rude knocking on the door to his room at the inn.

He had sat up at the waist with a start, almost throwing up at the way it had made his head spin and stomach lurch, looking through the window at the sun bright and high in the sky. He had known, somehow, that if he went to check on the rest of the rooms the pirates had occupied, he would find them empty. He had hoped Octavia had her chance to say her goodbyes. Even if Blitz didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, Stolas knew he wouldn’t do that to her.

The knocking had continued and Stolas had staggered out of bed, fumbling with bleary eyes as he tried to find some clothes scattered around the room to put on, wincing at the dried makeup on his lashes and cheeks. He had scrunched his whole face in disgust at the smell of wine and restless sleep on his breath and pulled the closest shirt and pants on as he answered the door to the incessant knocking.

Fizzarolli had been the one standing on the opposite side to his extreme surprise, his hand raised to knock again, his lips downturned.

The shorter man had scratched at his chin, making a face at the picture of an absolute mess that Stolas was that morning and then looked away sheepishly as he asked to be invited in. And Stolas had done so, moving away from the doorway, too speechless to object.

He had gone to freshen up and clean his face and as he had exited the bathroom, Fizzarolli had already made himself comfortable on an armchair, his legs swinging back and forth alternately, the metallic swishing filling the air. Stolas had felt anger rising within him when his brain had caught up to the man’s presence in his room.

Whatever history Blitz and Fizzarolli shared, it hadn’t sat right with Stolas that he had confronted him so publicly especially in front of the closest people to Blitz, ones who had absolutely not known what was being talked about. He had sat with a loud humph in the other chair in front of Fizzarolli as he drummed his fingers nervously on his cane, noticing the dark bags around his eyes now that his makeup was off.

He was taken aback yet again as the other man had let out a breath and told him how Blitz had come to talk to him the previous night. He had explained everything to Fizz and gone back to their table but Stolas had left by then.

Fizzarolli had let him know that there had been a misunderstanding of the events that led to the fire and that it wasn’t fully his story to tell, but it wasn’t completely Blitz’s fault what had happened. Stolas had clasped his hands in front of him in thought because he kind of already had his suspicions about the whole thing. Because why would Blitz set a fire out of jealousy and be close enough to it at the same time to come out of it with the amount of scars that he did. If he could have looked past the unrest and uncertainty that the night before had hammered into his mind, something about the whole thing clearly hadn’t added up.

It was relieving to get a confirmation from the man before him who had got so badly hurt, especially since the two appeared to have been close before the incident. Fizzarolli had also gone on to say that he hoped Stolas wouldn’t think the worst of Blitz because of what happened.

“Why would you care?” Stolas had asked, gobsmacked. A lot of the morning had gone by with him constantly being shocked and it was too much for the headache he had woken up with.

“He thinks you hate him,” Fizzarolli had said, springing to his feet as he prepared to leave, snorting as if he knew that was bullshit, “And knowing what you told Ozzie, I know that’s not true. If he ever comes back to Lust, just knock some sense into him, will you?”

Stolas had been ruffled because he had already tried that several times the evening before, hadn’t he? Fizzarolli had just shook his head at him and swung circles in the air with his cane as he moved to leave but not before adding, “Oh, and also? Ozzie asked if you would want a job at the pub. Nothing too conspicuous, maybe as a server or something. Just something to help put yourself back onto your feet.”

Stolas had started working at ‘Ozzie’s’ just three whole days later of thinking, and more thinking while looking at Octavia, about how he would have to start being able to afford everything he needed for them.

Now, as he stepped out of the small room beside the kitchen, smiling his goodbyes for the day at any coworker he met along the way, Stolas shook off the memory.

Fizzarolli performed often at the pub, doing his juggling and other circus acts and Stolas had reached a point where they exchanged gossip here and there a lot, now easily comfortable with each other and even getting along pretty well, and he had come to greatly admire the charm of the man on stage. Stolas’ shift was until lunch hours today so Fizzarolli—Fizz, as he had asked Stolas to call him—wasn’t around the pub yet.

The bartenders and a few performers waiting with their instruments and practising before the stage gave him friendly waves. He received a couple of appreciative, flirty glances, a few offers for drinks that Stolas smiled politely at while he quickly walked by to leave. He felt himself unable to get out of the fog that always seemed to cloud his mind, obscuring and dampening everything around except for whatever he needed to be able to focus during work hours and on his daughter.

A few drinks did sound nice every now and then but he didn’t want to go home drunk and have Octavia see him, she would ask questions. He also didn’t want to go home with someone else without letting her know first. And it really wasn’t as simple as just telling her, he figured that out pretty soon. All he would have with someone else was just a casual fuck, nothing more. Not yet. And he couldn’t leave Octavia alone for too long, not when everything was still on unsteady footing.

He hummed to himself as he walked leisurely along the port side to the small place he had found for him and Octavia a little away from the city square, absorbing the winter sun on his exposed face. He had found a small space to rent atop a bakery and a landlady in the form of an old but dangerously capable woman who lived downstairs and owned the lovely little shop and had done so from before he was even born. It couldn’t get better for them.

He sighed as his thoughts ran circles around his head, the way they had been doing since the moment he had woken up that morning. It was one of those days where he wouldn’t be able to stop them trying to get his attention even as he tried to let his mind idle on the walk back home. Not that days like that were particularly rare anymore. He definitely had a lot to think about.

He wondered what I.M.P was doing, as he pulled the coat tighter around him at the strong, biting breeze from the open expanse of sea, whether they were attacking another ship right now, or killing someone again.

As he saw some people gathered together, muttering heatedly something about a bit of commotion at the harbour, he walked by them wondering whether Loona had continued advancing her language skills or if Moxxie was handling all the expenditure paperwork alright or if Millie—well, Millie did everything right, he supposed as he giggled to himself. He also allowed himself to wonder about Blitz, wonder how he had moved on, if he had.

Now that they had put some distance between them, Stolas had come to doubt himself and the way he had asked Blitz to stay, had realised it may have come across a little condescending, maybe even demanding. He may have stepped out of the line Blitz had drawn between them from the start. He thought on the regular about what he could have done better, done right for once in his life. He should have asked Blitz what he wanted. If he wanted Stolas like he wanted Blitz.

He stopped to stare at the butcher that lived a few doors away from their shop feeding the seagulls some torn pieces of meat while they screeched.

All the time he had shared with Blitz played in his mind and maybe it was all in Stolas’ head. One of his fantasies that Blitz could like him the same way. From the beginning Blitz had made himself clear, several times, and Stolas had gave in to the temptation of an imitation of affection instead of putting a stop to the whole thing like he should have. All in the hopes that maybe, during that, he would get close to the friend he had come to like so very much.

He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to mess up the makeup lining them with his tears in broad daylight, because suddenly, he felt so manipulative. Like he had always been manipulating Blitz into more of an intimate relationship than he wanted. And Blitz had gone along with it maybe because he was too nice to refuse Stolas when he got all whiny, or maybe it was just easier not to. Or probably out of a sense of guilt and because he had seen Stolas when he was most helpless and pitiful. Or he was just trying to protect his own skin by not offending a prince…

The old butcher looked up confused at him as he couldn’t stop the loud whimper that left him, his hands flying to his mouth. He laughed pretend cheerily at the man and scuffled away, his hands shoving themselves into his pockets and curling there. Pathetic, he was still pathetic, wasn’t he.

Thinking just because he had felt something for the man, that it would be the same for Blitz. That everything will magically fall in place if he confessed as if his life was ever like a novel with a serendipitously sweet and happy ending. He had learned nothing. Hadn’t he spent enough years stuck in a nightmare to expect things like that, being forced into acting like a happy family and in love in public with someone who had hated his guts since they laid eyes on each other to know how wrong it was to do the same to others.

Maybe he should have accepted those drinks.

He didn’t know…he didn’t know what to think, what to do. That evening when he had blurted all that shit out to Blitz, he had just wanted the man to choose him. He had forgotten how to act, how to be composed and proper. Acted too big for his breeches. Who was he to tie Blitz down anywhere and he had used his team to convince him too. He felt so shitty. But it hurt to think that all of those interactions, all those nights and days and words exchanged between them and none of that really meant anything to Blitz. It had meant everything to Stolas.

But Blitz had been right. Stolas was a pompous asshole and he understood it now. That was fine, he had already decided to respect the choice the other man made.

It was also this freedom he had gained recently that was unsettling him even more, making him question and doubt everything. Nobody realised who he was, he was just Stolas to everyone who had to address him now. He could dress how he wanted, talk how he wanted, live how he wanted. He felt untethered, constantly felt like he desperately needed an anchor. Someone, or something, to hold him in place, grounded, and keep telling him he was doing fine. He was doing good. And nobody around him now had the time to tell him that, all people just exhausting their efforts to be able to survive themselves.

All his life had gone by trying to please someone or the other. First his father, with all his responsibilities of being a prince and representing their royal family everywhere, thinking that if he just did what was asked, that man could ever love him. Then, it was Stella and thinking even if they couldn’t ever be in love, if he was just good and quiet and obedient, she’d be pleased with him enough to leave him alone for the day.

He had his pride, he had his dignity, but he had never had to depend on himself to be reminded he was alright, praise himself for whatever he did, however badly it was done. He didn’t know if he had ever loved himself unless someone else promised to first. And maybe that was also why he had gotten so attached so quickly to Blitz.

Oh, Stolas rubbed at his forehead, it was one of those days when his mind would always drift back to him. What right did he have, really. Do you always have to be so clingy, was the last thing Blitz had said to him before leaving.

It was fine, it was all fine.

Stolas came to stand in front of the glass windows of the bakery, staring at the dust collecting on them and pulling at the earring dangling from the earlobe he had had pierced a month after settling in Lust.

He stared at the bread displayed at the counter as he walked in through the door, fondly remembering the day Octavia had turned eighteen a few weeks ago. The way he could barely afford the small cake their landlady baked and he insisted on paying for. He had thought the day his daughter would finally be old enough to have right over his title and position, it would be welcomed with another grand, unnecessarily lavish and crowded celebration thrown by Stella to show off and to show off her newly of age daughter to other nobles and potential suitors. He had thought he wouldn’t even have to think twice about showering her with any gifts she would ask for, and then he would bestow the Grimoire onto her.

The Grimoire he had forgotten on the fucking ship. He hoped they would come back just to give it back to him, it was dangerous for them to carry it. Or maybe Blitz had already thrown it away, that would be the smartest thing to do. It would be a shame, but it wasn’t as if he expected Blitz to treasure it.

And when the day had come, it was just him and Octavia and a single candle on the deliciously homemade cake between them and Octavia had given him the longest hug when he had apologised for not doing more. They had been distant ever since Envy, and then everything got fucked up even more after the pirates left. They just grew more distant as Stolas had started working, having to adjust to his shifts, the time he had left to teach her and spend time with her without being drained and nodding off few and far between.

But on Octavia’s birthday, they had talked. Octavia had demanded to know the truth about him and Stella and said that that was the only thing he owed her. So they had sat, both moving from sniffling lightly to straight sobbing as Stolas had let it all out, stammering and faltering as Octavia sat through it patiently.

And fuck, it felt good to have his daughter angry on his behalf, reassuring him that he had done nothing to deserve that treatment. He was always afraid he had fucked everything up for her. She was so lonely here and he didn’t know what else he could do.

Then, his heart had stopped as his daughter had asked him if he ever felt like he had to endure all of that because of her and that’s why he couldn’t leave and be happy before. He had shut it down, hugging her tight, telling her that what Stella had decided to do to him, what the rest of the family had burdened him with, none of it could be related to her. None of his resentment extended to her.

“Why wouldn’t I do it all over again if I had to, everything I have done was my own choice because I love you. I would never leave without you. I would have been miserable unless you were with me, wherever I was.”

“There’s nothing wrong with trying to choose something for yourself too, Dad, if it makes you happy,” Octavia had wiped off her tears, smiling at him. Stolas had wondered if she meant Blitz.

“I was acting selfishly.”

“You were dumb in love. It was embarrassing to watch, to be honest.”

Stolas had paused in washing the dishes they had used for dinner then, the corners of his lips pulled down at the grinning face of his daughter. Stolas had never been in love before, he didn’t know what it felt like except for whatever his stories told him. If it was love he felt for Blitz, he had not been prepared for the way it hurt the way it did and not knowing why he still kept desiring it.

“Stolas!” Stolas came to at the snapping of tiny, stubby fingers in front of him, looking down at the short woman who had come out to the front of the shop as he stood there like an idiot for fuck knows how long.

“Ah, yes, sorry Susan. I was just lost in thought,” Stolas smiled at her, removing his hand from the way he kept playing with the sharp crescent designs of his earring.

“You keep thinking like that and you’ll grow twenty years older right in the middle of my shop. Your friend, Fizzarolli,” she pointed back to the stairs leading to his rooms, “He came around a while ago, looked quite in a hurry. And all panicked too as he asked if you had returned from work.”

Fizz? Stolas thanked her and walked swiftly towards the narrow stairs and up to his door. Fizz never visited so randomly, definitely not while Stolas was at work. He unlocked the door, calling out to Octavia and looked up to see both her and Fizz moving quickly to the door to meet him. Fizz was sweating and out of breath and Octavia looked frightened. He stood frozen with his hand on the doorknob, knowing instantly that something was very wrong.

“Stolas, the Goetia family took Blitz and his crew captive at sea and they arrived in Lust and brought them to Ozzie just an hour ago,” Fizz breathed the words out, the syllables merging with how fast he let them out, “They are at the palace trying to put them on trial for the crime of taking a prince and his heir captive.”

All that time returning from work to his place and going through the ups and downs of his emotions for the day, even ending on a sweet memory, and Stolas felt the newly formed world he had set up under his feet swaying and heaving, threatening to shatter like a dream and drop him straight back onto the bed at his palace in Solomon.

Where another day of being judged and humiliated and feeling nothing but shame awaited him.

Stolas had thrown their whole time that he had built in the small place him and Octavia were calling a home into one tiny case.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Octavia hissed at him furiously, following him around closely like she was looking at a madman as he went through all the stuff he had stored in the place. This was just partly an excuse, he was also biding his time, trying to stave off his panic and desperately hoping for some inspiration to fall onto his head and knock some sense into him.

“What do you mean, I have to leave?”

Stolas shut his eyes, asking for a little patience to whatever in the universe was on his side today, if any at all.

“Please, Via,” Stolas stood up straight from where he was looking through his diaries, and turned towards his daughter.

Fizzarolli was making himself acquainted with a wall to the side of their door, tapping the heel of his boot rhythmically, making his presence known but also staying far, far away from the father upturning his whole place and daughter looking like she was on the verge of a temper tantrum.

“No!” Octavia punched a fist down on her other palm in frustration, blocking Stolas from where he was throwing her stuff into the case, “Where do you want me to go without you? Take me with you.”

No. They could not gain access to Octavia again. They would not touch her again with their dumb traditions and forcing them on her as long as he had something to say about it. He hadn’t done everything he could to protect her from what he has been through just for them to gain the upper hand so easily again. Stolas was fucking…smarter than that.

“They will not let us go,” Stolas sunk to the floor and sat back, head in one hand and holding onto one of the novels that Blitz had given him with the other, staring emptily at the cover, “They’re holding them captive to draw us out. To draw me out. I can’t let them die but I can send you away. Hide you. Via, sweetheart,” Stolas rubbed a palm down his face, then mussed up his hair, “If they find us, they’ll never again let us out of sight.”

He slapped the palm to his forehead, the sound loud in the small room and Octavia flinched at it. He covered his mouth as he felt his eyes burn at the angry and guilty tears that threatened to escape. This was so unfair, they had almost made it.

“Oh, fuck! How could I have been so fucking stupid,” he dropped his head onto the hard cover of the book, and again, “How had I not seen this coming? How had I not done more to ensure they didn’t pick up on our trail?”

He bit a nail down to the skin as they all stood, and sat in Stolas’ case, holding their breaths, biting his lips until he tasted blood.

“Stolas,” Fizz piped up, bringing him out of his agitated state, “Your daughter can hide out at our palace for now. If things go wrong, Ozzie and I will figure something out for her. But we have to go. Now.”

Stolas stared at him and Octavia threw the open case at his small bed in the corner of the living area, spilling the things inside.

“You can’t—“ she glared at him, her breaths coming out as gasps, as she pointed a finger between him and Fizz accusingly, “I’m not a child anymore. You can’t just impulsively decide to send me away, or hide me—Let me help you!”

Impulsive, huh, Stolas scoffed internally as Octavia dropped herself in a chair heavily, trying to calm herself as Fizz made a short step towards her, his hand elongating as if to comfort her. He pulled back when Octavia glared at it, shifting away.

Stolas stared at the cover of the novel in his hands as his brain refused to move on from the standstill it was in. The silhouette of two men in an embrace, the scenery of a forest all around, the last of the three novels Blitz had bought for him in Wrath that he never got to finishing. Now, though…

His mind suddenly raced with ideas, possibilities, extremely improper and bold ones. Dumb ones. Fizz had told him that Asmodeus had seen the entire convoy of King Paimon, Stella and a lot of the Goetia and relatives who were attending the now abandoned wedding turn up to the palace and sent Fizz out to him immediately. They had all shown up to enjoy the theatrics of someone being put in their place.

If it is a show they wanted…

Stolas put the book down as his mind started to conjure a little plan on how to get away with it all. It would be impulsive and knowing his history with impulsive behaviour whenever he got an idea into his head, there was a high chance it would not work at all. But it’s all he had for now.

This could all go so horribly wrong.

He got up to his feet, nodding at himself and looking around the quaint little place they had decorated together, not knowing if he would get to see it again. He should tell Fizz to let the kind lady downstairs know if he wasn’t coming back.

“Dad!”

Stolas moved towards Octavia and she had visibly collected herself enough that she nodded when he raised a hand to her head. He pat her, stroking her soft hair strands, and let her grab onto his hand.

“You’re right, Fizz,” he pulled Octavia up to her feet and moved her towards where her outside boots lay, ignoring her protests, “Take her with you. I’ll try to reason with them first.”

Fizz had taken them to the palace in the royal carriage he came in and pulled Octavia away from Stolas as she dragged her feet a little, pouting at Fizz. He had told Octavia they’ll be near the courtroom and that if anything goes wrong, he would let her go in. Stolas disagreed but Fizz glared at him until he silently accepted it and only then did Octavia relax and went along with Fizz.

Stolas refused indignantly when Fizz asked a couple of guards to cuff Stolas to make it look like he was captured. He wasn’t going into that room and standing in front of Stella and her brother and every other Goetia as a prisoner.

He told a tearful Octavia to trust him and Octavia gaped at him and cursed lowly. He ignored her “You’re really not saying the same thing that got us into this mess in the first place” as the pair walked away.

Then he squared his trembling shoulders, wishing he had eaten something since the morning but also not because it would end up all over the pretty floors at this point. He had thought he would get back from work, make a little something for him and Octavia and they would talk shit about his day and his customers and then maybe go out in the city for a play or something in the evening. And this is what he was doing.

Okay, it was fine. Stolas ignored the mild feeling of dizziness and the black spots at the corner of his eyes with just his willpower and asked the guards to guide him towards the courtroom.

He took a few breaths in and out, in and out, and in again, holding it mindlessly as he looked up at the huge blue and gold lined double doors of the courtroom inscribed with the flag of Lust and Asmodeus’ insignia. A burning heart, or…something. Lust was all about effort and progress in the pursuit of love, those are the things Asmodeus perpetuated. Stolas giggled to himself, feeling like all the blood had drained from his brain.

The guards looked at him in concern and Stolas let out the breath, his body feeling very heated up, his palm sweaty as he rested it awhile on the door.

He had a goal in mind. Free I.M.P, try to make demands to call off Octavia’s engagement and—and the rest.

As he entered the doors without thinking about the rest for the time being and set his eyes directly on the man sitting on a smaller throne beside Asmodeus’ broad and imposing figure on a raised dais, always in his red cloak and crown pointed upwards like horns, he knew he had to see this through to the end no matter how his heart had started jackhammering.

It was as if his heart had travelled back to the past, reminiscing about the helplessness of the child he had been in front of his powerful father when he had announced that his future marriage was non-negotiable and that he should stop being a little bitch and uphold the Goetia name.

His determined strides into the room faltered as he set eyes on the four figures kept on their knees before the two kings, the rest of the indistinguishable faces surrounding them on either sides. The floors were really clean and polished, he noted as the clacking of the sole of his boots rang through the chattering room.

“Stolas,” his father greeted with no inflection, his fingers steepled on his lap, as if he was already expecting him.

All eyes in the room turned towards him and a quiet air of thrill replaced the boredom throughout the room. Their entertainment had started.

Stolas watched as the figures on the floor snapped their necks up and flinched.

“It looks like you were unknowingly housing runaways in your territory, Sire,” Paimon tilted his head towards Asmodeus calmly and Asmodeus sighed, examining his nails and trying to look unbothered. As he looked at Stolas for a moment, there was definitely a “hope you know what you’re doing” aimed towards him.

“You!“ that familiar, way familiar than he needed it to be, ear-splitting, jarring voice rang out as Stella roared from her place at the front, right near the thrones, “Who the fuck do you think you—“

Stolas pinched his eyes shut for a few seconds as Andrealphus pulled his sister back from making a disgrace out of herself, always the smarter one. She glared at him and he glared right back, her eyes widening a bit as he refused to shrink away from the promise of pain in them the moment she could get him alone.

“Fuck, no,” Stolas shuddered at the dry raspiness in Blitz’s voice as he spoke up, his head turned towards Stolas as he came to stand beside them, “No, no, why’re you here?”

Why wouldn’t he be?

Stolas looked at Blitz bewildered at the disbelief in his eyes. Did Blitz think he would not come to them once he learned about this?

Stolas took a moment, just a single one that he allowed himself, to look over the four beside him. They, simply put, looked worse for wear, in their white outfits, their faces looking slightly more gaunt and ashen than he had last seen, nothing but terror and sleeplessness in their eyes. A few bruises peeking out here and there and Stolas felt the sudden blaze in his lungs fuel his desire to continue with what he had decided. He turned his face away from Blitz’s pleading eyes.

“Release them,” fuck, it had been a while ringing out commands like that, he forced his voice to not tremble at the look of incredulity on his father’s face as he said it, “They have done nothing of what you’re accusing them of. It was all my plan.”

Blitz whispered Stolas’ name fearfully and Stolas had to hold every bone in his body still so as to not give away anything with his face or body language in front of all the vultures.

“Oh, is that so?” Andrealphus hummed, amusement in his low nasally voice, “This ruffian was just telling us it was all his fault.”

Idiot. Stolas sighed, wondering where Blitz got the audacity from to be so idiotically self-sacrificing.

Stolas felt a snarl at the back of his throat as Andrealphus sauntered up to Blitz and lowered his head back down as low to the ground as possible with his boots. Blitz groaned painfully, trying to reach for the back of his head and Loona whined loudly, looking away.

“Stop,” Stolas growled and Andrealphus raised an eyebrow, moving his foot away, “He said it to protect me. The people I hire know how to be loyal to me.”

“People you hire?” Paimon hadn’t changed his posture, looking indifferent to the whole scene.

“Yes, they were the ones I hired to pretend to attack us and then bring us to Lust. They were acting on my orders the entire time.”

He could feel the oppressive gazes and whispers of the whole room burning into him and he curled his fists by his sides, stopping himself from fidgeting.

“That’s a fucking lie,” Stolas watched, stunned, as Striker came into view to his left, pushing through the crowd of Goetia as they gave him dirty looks for touching them.

And even though rage at seeing the self-satisfied grin on that man’s proud face was forefront in his mind, something burst through that like a ray of childish glee and settled within him after the whirlwind of uncertainty that the day had turned into. What a convenient time for that asshole to show his face, acting like he was playing the most important role here.

He tried not to smirk and schooled his features into a scowl of distress as he backed away from Striker with a hand clutching at his collar.

“You!” he squeaked, and Striker and everyone in his vision looked puzzled at his sudden loss of composure. Then he turned towards his father with look of agony and pointed at Striker, “This is the one who found us when we stopped at Wrath and kidnapped us. He—he—“ he pretended to sniffle loudly, obnoxiously and clutched harder at his chest, pointedly touching his neck as if remembering a painful memory, “He put us in a dark, dingy cell and—and tortured us. I was recovering from the injuries for weeks after. Oh, I still have nightmares about it!”

He pretended to get dizzy, which wasn’t really difficult to do, and watched pleased as his father straightened up and turned towards Asmodeus, a nod passing between them. Asmodeus ordered his guards to hold Striker in place and cuff him too as the man’s one eye had widened in fear and he tried to slink away. He observed Andrealphus tighten his fists from the corner of his eyes as he frowned heavily. So, this was his move.

It didn’t matter, he looked towards Striker as he was dragged away from the court to be put in a cell until this trial was concluded and dared to send a subtle wink his way when he glared daggers at Stolas. It was the word of a prince against a nobody.

Then he turned towards his two friends, towards Blitz and his daughter, not having to force the tear that slid down his cheeks as he flung an arm angrily in their direction, “These people protected us from him even at great danger to their own lives and kept us safe the whole way here. We owe them our lives,” he didn’t have to try at all to put any earnestness into his voice as he looked back at his father, these were not lies, “And it is extremely distressing and disappointing to me to see them treated like this. They have not even been given a fair chance to defend themselves. All on the mere words of a snake like that?”

He gestured in the vague direction of where Striker had been taken from the room, flagged on both sides, and tried not to notice the way Blitz’s jaw dropped open. He spouted the most terrible curses in his mind as Andrealphus spoke up again.

“They’re pirates anyways. They stole your Grimoire. And, Your Highness, these criminals were going around freely in your city, putting your citizens at risk,” he glided towards Asmodeus as the man sighed again, his bracelets clinking as he rested one cheek on a palm, already looking done with the whole thing.

Andrealphus turned and smiled sinisterly at Stolas, “That is enough to deal them a death sentence. Why should we let them go?”

“Because,” Stolas heard his blood thunder in his ears, “I gave them the Grimoire as a sign of gratitude for saving us from that dangerous criminal, who is also an assassin might I add. I was unable to pay them the rest of their dues as he had robbed me of everything when he captured us. And they’re not. Pirates, I mean.”

Stolas forced himself not to wince at the impulsive lie he threw out. Shit, he needed to get his head on straight. The Grimoire, the pay, Striker, and Wrath—

Andrealphus smiled as if he didn’t believe him and was about to open his mouth when another set of footsteps stepped out from the parting crowd. Stolas allowed the bit of hope rising in his chest after it had been tamped down as he looked at his trusted old friend come out, inspecting a bunch of papers in his hands.

Vassago raised an eyebrow at Andrealphus, raising a palm to stop him from saying anything, scoffing at the way he snarled back quietly.

“I can vouch for that.”

“What do you mean?” Asmodeus gestured at him to go on.

Vassago placed a hand momentarily on Stolas’ shoulder, squeezing in support, as he passed by him to stand in front of the two kings. And Stolas exhaled, calming himself a little.

“They’re not pirates, as Prince Stolas said. They’re just a merchant crew who were paid to act like pirates, I assume?” he gave Stolas a pointed look and Stolas almost cracked his neck at the speed with which he nodded his agreement, “Yes, I have the documents proving that right here. Their usual cargo and trade routes as well as identifications. They were among the papers we got from their ship, along with this letter signed by Prince Stolas himself,” Stolas had to admire the easy way in which the dark-haired, bespectacled man lied through his teeth in front of their king just for him, “It’s a contract. It says here that the Prince had paid them to pretend to be pirates so they were set up accordingly, down to their ship which was bought specifically so they could escape safely after having provided the Prince a passage to Lust.”

Stolas let out a huge, audible sigh of relief that he didn’t know he was capable of experiencing and he didn’t care who heard it. He watched the other man pull a sympathetic face at the four captives and wondered what Vassago had talked to Blitz about to do this. But, he felt a huge sense of appreciation towards the man for just trying to figure things out instead of immediately having dismissed them. Stolas had come in here with the plan to convince everyone with just his words, hoping that they would somehow be enough but this could reaffirm everything.

His father had listened quietly through it all, his pupils judging and flickering to the side as Vassago handed the documents over to Asmodeus and the other royal went through them, appraising them carefully. Or pretended to, anyways.

“Alright, if that’s the case,” Andrealphus was properly dumbfounded. He didn’t look any different outwardly but Stolas knew who he was behind the facade enough to notice the small signs, “Why would you do all this then, Prince Stolas?”

He squinted challengingly at Stolas, walking closer and into his space, circling him and Stolas exhaled a fuming breath through his nostrils. He looked expressionlessly right past the annoying fucker, not interested in having to give attention to such an irrelevant entity in the room. He stared at his father and prepared mentally for the next part of his plan.

“I would like a private audience with my Father before that, please.”

Andrealphus stopped in front of him and looked ready to strangle him and so did Stella as she stomped, advancing on him at that, as if they didn’t quite expect him to dare to do that. Stolas rolled his eyes quickly as they looked between themselves as if deciding whether or not to object but it wouldn’t matter.

They were both officially below Stolas’ station. They had no right to deny a son a conversation with his father.

Only one person present in the room could do that and Stolas was making direct eye contact with him.

Asmodeus coughed and okay, maybe two people had the power to do that, but Stolas was sure Asmodeus didn’t actually plan to object.

“Well, the documents do seem to hold up,” Asmodeus announced, passing the papers to Paimon who waved at them dismissively, his gaze fixing itself on his actual prey, “I guess I was not harbouring criminals after all, just a few friendly merchants. Ones who saved your heirs, in fact,” he tilted his head at the other king who was still locked in an unwavering staring match with Stolas.

“So,” Asmodeus clapped his hand once, commanding the attention of the room and finally Paimon, “Seeing as they didn’t cause any trouble while they were here and all your claims have been disproven, I don’t feel it’s necessary to keep them on trial for execution in Lust. After that, if you wish to talk to the Prince or to take them all to Solomon to further investigate and deal their punishments, you’re free to do so.”

Paimon nodded his head to show he agreed and bowed his head at Asmodeus.

“Thank you, Sire, you’re too generous,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone that Asmodeus not very subtly rolled his eyes at.

Stolas gulped heavily, urging himself to not lower his head at the strength of his father’s boring gaze back on him, “Would you rather I say all I have to right here in front of everyone?”

His voice carried quietly, cutting through the room with how sharp and challenging they were, and scandalised whispers rose all around him. Andrealphus’s eyes widened in genuine shock at the brashness he was displaying and even Vassago looked a bit afraid for him.

Paimon sat deathly still, raising his eyebrows at him, inspecting for a good few minutes. Almost making Stolas tear up and lower himself to his knees to ask for forgiveness. Then he stood up, his cloak falling to its place with a whoosh and the whispers around stopped immediately.

“Allow us a moment.”

Stolas shivered at the chilling tone in his father’s words.

Asmodeus waved him off, his eyes darting to the clock over the doors of the courtroom. Paimon descended down the dais and walked past Stolas, not sparing him a glance and Stolas assumed he was expected to follow.

He watched as Blitz stood to his feet, his face wet with the tears running down his cheeks, words failing to move past his lips, the chains connecting him to the other three forcing them to move onto their feet too. Loona looked at him mildly impressed even through the stricken look on her face and M&M sent an array of worry and amazement towards him.

He allowed himself to send a comforting smile their way, his eyes softening at the way Blitz had gone rigid, looking like someone had snatched the soul from his body during the whole thing. They would definitely go free. The papers they had originally meant to give to Striker’s crew and probably forged by Vassago to change the details in them after they had captured these four, sealed the deal. Stolas had disproven the crimes they were accused of and Paimon probably wouldn’t bother to house them all the way to Solomon for petty reasons.

He looked at them and tried to let them know wordlessly that it was over, they were safe for now. Stolas didn’t know what Blitz was worried about to have that look on his face.

A moment of silence passed between them and Blitz frantically shook his head side to side and opened his mouth, the words on the tip of his tongue and Stolas turned on his heel, pulling at his earring once and grounding himself at the pain the constant tugging at it throughout the day had caused.

He dug his fingers into his palms at his sides as he followed behind his father.

Chapter Text

Stolas followed his father out of the room in time to hear him order a guard outside to take them to the nearest private room.

The guard was visibly flustered and clumsily bowed to the two royals, one looking like he was having difficulty holding back the storm behind his eyes and the other looking like he was preparing himself for execution. Then he composed himself and guided them with a sweep of his hand. Stolas noticed his father turn his chin up at the guard and glide towards a room opposite to the courtroom, the guard opening the door for them.

The smell of musty and fresh pages, leather, and wood greeted Stolas as he entered the room after the ominous cloud surrounding his father, looking even more deadly in the shadows casted across what seemed to be a small library as the afternoon sun was hidden behind heavy curtains.

The guard moved to pull the curtains away but Paimon pointed to a lantern at a small desk instead. The man fell over his feet to light it up and Stolas canted his head at the guard to dismiss him after he had done it, thanking him quietly. The guard blinked his mousy brown eyes at him and bowed at them both before scurrying out. Paimon observed the interaction with his hawk-like gaze, eyes narrowing even further if possible. Stolas stood by the door, and shut them as the guard left, leaving them alone.

He kept his back turned onto where his father stood beside the desk and exhaled in the silence of the room. Then, as he turned around, he avoided looking at the man in front of him, choosing to let his gaze flit around the shelves and cupboards holding books and antiques and the beautifully painted wings and clouds and spring days on the walls. It was a small space, more of a personal library. Stolas caught some titles on the books nearest to him…metallurgy, anatomy, and politics, and oh, were those books about the best ways to bring someone the utmost pleasure?

Stolas cleared his throat as he turned away and lowered his head, his hands clasped in front of him, and he cringed at how sweaty they had become. Gross.

He fidgeted on his feet, his palms rubbing against one another as the silence stretched until finally—

“Have you completely lost your mind, boy?”

Stolas really felt like he must have had feathers in some other life, the way every nerve in his body reacted to that calm, patronising voice as if ruffling up his skin. Or were those goosebumps.

“I have not,” he finally looked up, wanting to look right into his father’s face as he said it, “I have finally come to my senses.”

His father flung his cloak out with a gloved hand, making Stolas flinch, and walked around the desk like someone stalking their prey before making a swipe with clawed hands. Instead, he pulled the chair out to sit. He glared at Stolas from under his crown which casted a terrifying shadow across his visage.

“Such insolence.”

Stolas was surprised at how unaffected he was by the chill in his father’s voice compared to how he thought he would be. All he could think as his father steepled his long fingers on the desk in front of him was it was much needed.

“Why did you think this was all necessary? Are you still a child to be acting like one?”

Stolas felt a snarl low in his throat, unclasping his hands and balling them at his sides instead. A child, when did he ever let him be one anyways.

“I’m not going to explain my choices to you, Father,” Stolas glared as his father rolled his eyes at that, “I have every right to decide what best to do for my own and my daughter’s safety. I needed this moment with you to let you know that I want to abdicate my title as a prince and a Goetia.”

Stolas held his ground as his father brought a hand down on the desk, the sound echoing in the room, “How dare you. This family has given you everything,” he brought the palm up to his own chest, disdain in his eyes, “You have never had to face any discomfort, had all the riches people could only hope for at your fingertips.”

Paimon brought the palm back down on the desk and the lantern on it jumped, the fire flickering and so did its light reflected in his eyes, “Enough with the foolishness, little boy. You will return to your duties and your heir will return to hers.”

His heir, huh. Stolas scoffed, opening and curling a fist as he looked down at it, absently counting the lines on it.

“My daughter, your grandchild, is already of age as of today. I have decided to ask her if she wants to take over my position. Only if she wants to. And that will only happen if you call off her marriage arrangement. That is her, and also my, only demand.”

“You—“

“You’re wrong.”

Paimon snapped his jaw shut and Stolas stuttered on his next words, swallowing them back a moment. They both sat, and stood, on the opposite side of the desk, the fire in the lantern burning bright as the wick settled into the oil. The chirp of birds came distant from the windows and so did a faint whoosh of a rushing breeze.

Stolas slumped his shoulders inward, “I never did have everything I wanted. When I walked around among the common folk, I did indeed realise how lucky I was to have been born into such wealth. But I have been more content in years, even as I am serving drinks to rude patrons, now than I ever was in that palace.”

In that cage, he did not say.

“You serve—“

Stolas huffed in amusement because of course that’s what his father would focus on. He took a few steps forward until his thighs touched the upper edge of the desk, leaning down on both hands as he looked right at his father.

“My wife was hurting me. From the moment we met and got married to the very last agonising moment before I ran, she has taken every opportunity to make me as miserable as possible. She has humiliated me in public, slapped me around in front of the servants, degraded me constantly even as far as to bring it into our bedroom and never once has she cared that our daughter could be an audience to all of it,” Stolas heard his own hardened voice rising in volume and echo throughout the room as his father put both hands on the desk as well, his eyes squinted at him, lips curling into a sneer.

Stolas let a breath out and along with it the waver in his voice that he had been holding back, a hint of wetness at the corner of his eyes as he shut them, “I forced myself to endure it all of these years just because I was too afraid to disappoint and tear apart the family I was expected to uphold. But I’m not afraid anymore,” he was, but there was something stronger he felt now, “I’m just…done. I have seen how much better things could be if I just have a little courage. If I just stand up for myself and demand the things I want from life, choose myself for once. I will relinquish my title, Father, and you will allow me.”

His father raised a single eyebrow at him, a short, taunting laugh escaping him.

Stolas growled, “You don’t want people to find out what goes on behind the closed doors of the Goetias, do you?”

“Hah, you’ve always been too soft,” Paimon chuckled, waving his hand in front of Stolas’ face as if he had never been audience to a more ridiculous performance, “A man crying that his wife is a…what? A wife beater?” Paimon laughed again and Stolas felt his stomach turn, “You will become a laughing stock. Don’t make me laugh.”

It was always there like a truth in the back of his mind, Stolas knew they would all react this exact way. But fuck, his heart broke.

He sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself not to crumble in the face of such indifference, and made up his mind. It was time for his impulsive plan, it appeared. It was now or never.

“Then what about the fact that people find out I like men?”

A beat of silence passed between father and son as only the sounds of crackling fire filled it. Then a second drop of a confounded silence as Paimon blinked rapidly at him and Stolas clenched his jaw at what he had spurted out.

“What?”

Oh, his father was taken aback. Stolas didn’t yet know if that was a good thing. But confusion was better than that indifference.

“I mean,” Stolas shrugged, hands on his hips, tilting his head as he closed his eyes, “I don’t care anymore what people will think about that, what any of you might think of it. But oh, you and my ex-wife,” Stolas emphasised that intentionally, “both would absolutely hate that getting out, won’t you? Our cut clean reputation is everything to you,” Stolas snorted because he knew how true it was.

“Our family will become the butt of everyone’s jokes, you know how people love a scandal and at the expense of the royals too. And you will never be able to tolerate it. You are not used to it. I will, though. I will tolerate it, I have been for years,” he raised his voice as he raised a brow to goad his father, “It’s not an empty threat, I will do it. Let people find out exactly how a high and mighty Goetia likes getting dicked down like a common whore by another man. Maybe even a lower class one.”

His father slapped both palms on the desk as he stood up, the chair scraping as it was flung back. Stolas couldn’t stop his instinctual flinch, try as he might.

“You dare speak to me so improperly,” Paimon pointed at Stolas, fuming, then he brought that hand to his chin as he assessed Stolas.

“It’s that boy, that circus clown.”

Stolas felt his heartbeat catch and his brain freeze over. His father had known all along who Blitz was.

“Did you think I wouldn’t remember?” Paimon scoffed, “He has corrupted you! I never should have allowed you to play with him as a child. I could execute them all with just a flick of my wrist, do you realise it? I could drag you back to Solomon screaming and crying, if I must. You and your daughter both.”

Stolas felt his nostrils flare with the breath he let out, his heart roaring as his king threatened his daughter. He leaned further into the space between them, no longer feeling any hint of the fear that had pervaded into him since he had got to the palace.

“You can,” he grinned widely, unkindly, and watched as his father shifted away a bit, “But then, I’ll never again listen to you. I’ll spend my whole life fighting everything any of you do. There will be nothing holding me back. Even if you lock me up and ignore the violence I suffer everyday. You will never have my obedience again. I will fight my whole life against this family if I have to.”

Stolas no longer felt the need to hold back the tears, letting them fall onto the desk and into the lantern blowing hot air under his face. He let out a sob as his father’s gaze on him faltered, his eyes shifting to the side.

“It will be much simpler for you to just let me go. Much more comfortable.”

Stolas stepped away from the desk, his hands behind his back and walked up to the windows. He wiped off the tears, no longer out of shame, but out of a need to conserve them for much, much later. When he got the results he wanted out of this. This was always a gamble. It was never about whether or not his father actually needed him there but it was a tradition in their family to value obedience. And it was the only thing Stolas had power over. If he threatened that—please, just let me go.

“I suppose you’d want to continue living like a peasant,” Stolas blinked as his father spoke up, the indifference back in his voice, “Is this all worth it?”

Stolas pulled the curtains aside and pinched his eyes shut at the light, smiling as he heard his father cursing lowly at it.

“Nothing has been worth more.”

Than me standing up for myself and questioning everything you have moulded me to become that I never wanted to be. Than finally learning what it was like to live each day without someone willing to hurt me just outside my door.

“I’m safe now. And more free than I’ve ever been.”

“It comes with a price. You are too naive.”

Stolas smiled at the garden outside the window, at the winter blossoms and the branches of temporarily withered trees, “It’s all worth it,” he turned back to his father, the crown on the head gleaming, and dropped his smile, “Call off my daughter’s engagement officially. And I’ll talk to her about the title she inherits.”

Paimon sighed, suddenly looking his age and Stolas would feel a pint of sorry for him if not for, “I don’t know where you went all wrong, son. I don’t know where I could have gone wrong raising you.”

Stolas laughed at the sudden realisation of how some people would never change even if he waits his whole life for it.

“You didn’t. Raise me,” his father angrily stared him down and Stolas let the warmth of the winter sun seep into his back after standing in the damp room, “You barely even cared to know my name in the first place. And…if you ever threaten my daughter with force again, you should remember something.”

Stolas looked right back at his King with an unwavering fury.

“She is way more insolent than I ever will be.”

“You can release the pawns, Sire. We have no need for them,” Paimon threw open the doors to the courtroom furiously and strode in, making his way straight to the dais, paying no heed to anything around him. Stolas walked in after, pulling at the top button on his shirt, the thread on it coming loose.

Asmodeus paused in his yawning and sat up, clapping his hands together, looking mighty pleased.

“Wait, wait, just like that?” Andrealphus spoke up puzzled from where he and Vassago had been engaged in a glaring competition from opposite sides of the room.

“You dare question my orders?” Paimon thundered at Andrealphus, throwing his cloak behind him as he sat down and Stolas held back the urge to stick his tongue out at the man. Vassago crossed his arms and smirked as Andrealphus muttered an apology and quieted down, chastised.

Everyone turned to look at Stolas as he marched forward to come stand next to the four still on their knees and ushered guards in to take off their cuffs. Blitz’s pupils roamed all over his face, his cheeks coated in tears and helplessness in his eyes and Stolas moved away from them as soon as he made sure they were freed.

“And you,” Stolas watched as Blitz’s head snapped ahead as Paimon addressed them directly, “If you are ever found on the seas surrounding Solomon with evidence of criminal activities, you know what is coming for you.”

Blitz growled lowly, squaring his shoulders and mutters rose around them. It seemed Blitz was the only one who didn’t see the threat coming from the King of Solomon as the mercy in disguise it actually was. Stolas sighed in relief because at least they had Moxxie.

“Thank you for your mercy, Your Highness,” the freckled man bowed his head, and Paimon nodded at him dismissively.

“Sire, I would like to deal out my son’s sentence in presence of the Goetia alone, if that is agreeable with you?”

Asmodeus gave a brief glance to Stolas, his way of asking if he needed any more of his help and Stolas nodded his assurance subtly.

“Hmm, well, I suppose he’s one of yours. Last I checked it wasn’t a crime for a prince, runaway or not, to come and settle in my territory, as long as it was not with hostile intentions,” Asmodeus pretended to think some, a his chin in the gap between his curled fist and his thumb, “You can deal with him, then.”

With that, Asmodeus stood up, flicking his purple cape behind him with a quiet flourish and walked down his throne. He moved through the crowd in a leisurely stride and everyone bowed as he passed by, Stolas included. Blitz not included. Stolas cursed inwardly at the scarred man gaping at him, his now free hands trembling.

“Hold on, what does that mean?” Blitz cried out, his throat still scratchy, as two guards caught him by the arms and started to haul him out.

The rest of them dragged their steps as Blitz kicked and bit at the air near the necks of the guards, but they weren’t resisting as much as they were led out, just looking pale and stunned. Weak and exhausted. But Blitz seemed to have found the last burst of energy he had been lacking throughout the trial and Stolas tugged at his earlobe at the man’s struggle and the way everyone looked at him like he was something feral, trying to dig his feet into the polished floor without success.

“What did you do, Stolas? What does he mean, deal with you?”

People were talking, and his father glared warningly at him at the rumours already flying through the room at the casual address as Blitz broke free once and tried to reach for him, his sobs ringing through Stolas’ head. Stolas stepped back from the reach as the guards caught him again, turning away from the hurt coming over Blitz’s eyes.

“Escort him out immediately,” Paimon dropped a fist on the arms of his seat, commanding silence.

“Wait, no, Your Highness, it’s not his fault,” Blitz pulled out of the hold again and fell to his knees, holding onto Stolas’ pant leg, pleading, scared, afraid for him, “Stolas! Tell them—it was not you—it was—”

Stolas blinked out of the haze in his mind, stunned at seeing the man he had last watched so brash and confident, acting so terrified at the thought of losing…him?

He set a cold, repulsed look down at him, pulling his leg out of his hold and moving away, ignoring the shocked look on Blitz’s face and the tiny whimper.

“Please,” he said, in a condescending manner, halting Blitz’s blabbering and the other man looked down at his hands where Stolas had pulled away, “Do not presume you can speak for me. This is a matter for the royal family. You have no place here.”

Please, Blitz, just shut up and leave.

He knew he had to pretend for now, his voice emotionless on purpose but the way Blitz looked up at him completely wrecked as he let himself be pulled to his feet by the guards, resisting no more, it made Stolas immediately want to apologise to him and explain everything. But no, all in time. This would have to wait.

As the doors shut behind Blitz, Stolas clasped his hands in front of him and lowered his head as his father sighed, rubbing at his forehead.

“For the crime of intentionally endangering an heir to the family, misusing his status and also mishandling a precious heirloom, I have decided to strip Prince Stolas of his title and banish him from the family.”

Stolas knew it was coming, he had asked for it. Still the involuntary shame ran through him as people gasped and murmured, and he could hear some sniggering, some mocking words. He could hear Stella’s assaulting voice giggle like a kid who had got exactly what they wanted after throwing a whole fit with her brother’s annoying laugh following.

Stolas of the Ars Goetia. First of his name and first to be removed from the lineage. The family disgrace.

Stolas snorted at the irony of the fact that a few years ago, he would have done anything to not have to hear that and now, he had done everything to make sure it had happened.

I guess that’s a bit of bad influence, he smiled fondly.

“I have also decided to call off his heir’s engagement until a time when she is desiring one of her own,” Paimon sighed, pausing a while before he continued in a tired voice, “Should she decide to take over her birthright status.”

Stella cursed loudly at that as Paimon finished, throwing off her brother’s light hold on her arm as she trampled over to Stolas with a finger right in his face, her face red with anger, “Take over? What do you mean by that? What nonsense have you been feeding your daughter, Stolas?”

Stolas rolled his eyes and made sure she saw it, “Whatever she needed to hear.”

“You,” she curled a fist and swung it towards him, suspending it mid air as she looked around. She lowered it by rubbing it down her face, looking so very agonised. Stolas stared straight ahead at the wall above the empty throne of Asmodeus, aimlessly tracing the lovely, vine patterning of it, his mind floating away from the present for a moment.

“Who gets his possessions, then?” Stella continued, hands on her hips, a righteous expression of fury on her face as she addressed the room, like she wanted them to see how wronged she had been, “If she doesn’t come back? I demand to see her this instant, Stolas. I will talk sense into her. I will take her from you even if it’s the last thing I do,” she smirked viciously as she poked into his chest painfully. Stolas went almost cross-eyed to keep her in his sight, his arms rising to keep some distance as he backed away and she crowded further into him.

A new fear gripped his body. What if she could do that? What if his father allowed it? Oh, she was screeching something again, all he could feel was the sweat dripping down his forehead as his hands itched to fiddle with something. Maybe dig into his own skin and pull at his nerves.

“—you pathetic twig arse of a failure. How dare you try to force her into a peasant lifestyle!”

“Have care how you speak to my son, woman!” Paimon raised his voice for the first time in the courtroom and heads cracked towards him. A drop of water falling to the ground could be heard in the silence that followed. Stolas blinked slowly at his father, watching from the corner of his eyes as Stella’s eyes widened in surprise just the same as him.

Paimon pursed his lips, as he looked scornfully at Stella, “You try to cause a scene right in front of me! You dare speak up over me! Conduct yourself like a Goetia if you wish to keep your place in the family.”

“Your Highness,” Andrealphus slunk up to Stella, pulling her back as she fumbled around for words, and he bowed his head, “Forgive her, she is merely a bit distressed. My niece is too young to make a decision as important as giving up a title. It would be better to have her back with us, learning how to be a proper Goetia. Her mother is more than capable of teaching her that.”

Stolas tightened his fists where he had them locked in front of him, his nails digging into his palms, grounding him, as he spat the next sentence directly at the two, “She was old enough for you to try and ship her off for marriage.”

Andrealphus glared at him, then smirked, “Why didn’t you speak up then, Stolas?” He walked over and placed a hand on Stolas’ shoulder, pretending to comfort him but gouging his nails into it instead, and Stolas angled his head away, “If you had objections.”

Stolas narrowed his eyes at his father and Paimon cleared his throat firmly, “Octavia is of age. She must make her own choices. She is Stolas’ heir and Stolas has every right to guide her through her duties and studies required for her to take his place, which is of utmost importance to the family. Which, I don’t suppose her mother can do for her.”

Stolas didn’t take his eyes off his father’s focus on him. The look in them was clear. I have taken my stand for you. Do not let anything about what we spoke of get out. Do not fail me again.

“And, if I may ask,” Andrealphus droned on, moving away from Stolas, and Stolas groaned at just how much the man talked, “If she decides she doesn’t want the title?”

Paimon exhaled a long sigh, and Stolas nodded, admitting his one defeat, because he knew exactly what his father was about to say.

The first thing Stolas heard as he walked out of the courtroom was silence echoing all around the high-ceilinged halls, his limbs slack and trembling, his lips quivering with all the emotions he had had to hold in for what had been— minutes? hours?—he had no idea. Nothing around him to drill in the fact that he had overturned his entire life forever. He could take back nothing, he couldn’t return to how things were anymore.

The guards outside the doors let him know that their king had asked them to lead him down the hall to Asmodeus’ office. He thanked them and let them close the doors on the loud chattering of the family he had blocked from his mind as well as the burden he had endured all his life. And he didn’t look back. There was no regret.

He followed the same guard who had shown them to the library down the wide corridor and could hear some muffled sounds of someone yelling and crying as they came to a stop beside the huge doors of what he assumed to be Asmodeus’ office. He thanked the guard as he was left alone then grasped at his chest at the sharp pain in his lungs, slumping sideways into a wall beside the room. Breathing in and out, in and out. He could hear several voices from inside.

He watched disconnected as his hand grabbed the handles of the door and suddenly felt he needed to collapse onto something, someone, and he knew he could if he just pushed open the doors. Maybe. Maybe he’d have to keep his tough face on a bit longer. He let go of the rigidness held in his body and set his mind on the next conversations to be had.

He threw the doors open, not bothering to knock.

His eyes landed first on Octavia who was sat in a very plush-looking armchair beside a window as she sat up from blankly staring out and her light amber eyes lit up at the sight of him, yet something in them still wary. Moxxie was sat next to her chair slumped to the floor, collapsed with exhaustion, his head resting on the side of the chair as his breaths came evened out.

Stolas walked in and Asmodeus’ figure took up his sight, stood next to a bookshelf on a wall to the side, his arms bulging as they crossed over his chest, eyes shut in mild irritation. And Stolas winced because he understood, he really did. He had bothered the other royal enough. Loona was lying down on the long couch on the other side of the room, her arm over her eyes, teeth gritted.

What broke Stolas’ heart was the way Millie and Fizz were on either sides of a seemingly inconsolable Blitz who was on his knees in the middle of the room, their hands on him lightly in comfort as well as to hold him back if necessary. The scarred man was sobbing out broken sentences and illegible words, yelling himself hoarse.

Stolas’ name, how he had failed someone again, how someone would die because of him again. How he had so much to say and should have done everything different.

Idiot, Stolas smiled adoringly, and cleared his throat loudly.

“I—uh, am I interrupting?”

Blitz jerked his head up, pushing himself to his feet immediately. Fizz blinked at him, a question on his lips, but Blitz beat him to it.

“What did you do?” His tone was accusing, his sobs having come to a complete standstill.

Stolas raised an eyebrow at him, hands on his hips, and then shrugged as he turned a reassuring smile on Octavia who had slipped off her chair, disturbing Moxxie into awakeness. Her eyes turned glassy but her entire stance was on guard.

“Nothing to worry about anymore,” he ran a hand through his hair, making a disgusted face at the sweat collected at his hairline, and Blitz staggered towards him as if dazed, “I took care of it. I’m sure father will want to see you before they leave.”

He aimed that at Asmodeus who huffed sufferingly, a smooth, whole-hearted but melodic laugh spreading through the room. He walked up to Stolas, a hand on his shoulder, “Well, I knew you could do it. Not really,” he thought about it for a minute and the clicked his fingers in the air once, “But I knew you’d think of something, babe.”

“Happy to have your confidence, Sire,” Stolas chuckled as Asmodeus clasped his hands behind his back, “I suppose you could let them know I can stay on in Lust?”

It didn’t really matter if they knew that, he just needed to know it was alright with Asmodeus.

“Of course,” Asmodeus nodded, sharing a silent look with Fizz, “Like I said, you may have been a runaway prince from another territory but you didn’t come here with hostile intentions or actions. There is no reason why I should interfere with your stay.”

“Thank you,” Stolas sighed. At least they’d have time to figure shit out.

Asmodeus turned to Fizz and stepped towards him, hesitating as Fizz pointedly gestured at the other people in the room. He smiled disarmingly before walking out of the room and closing the door gently behind him.

Fizz stood up, pushing himself to his feet with his cane, his pupils roving all over Stolas’ face, searching. Stolas put a hand to his chest as he beamed at him. It appeared he couldn’t stop smiling right now, his cheeks aching with the strain of barely used muscles.

“Thank you, Fizz, for coming to get me in time.”

“Fizz did—“ Blitz blinked as he swivelled his head between them, shocked for the time being at the familiarity there, “How did you even get to talking—you know what? Doesn’t matter.”

He squared his shoulders, advancing on Stolas, his eyes blazing. Millie put a hand to his arm to stop him and Fizz looked nervously at his friend.

“What did you do, Stolas? What did you talk about with your father?”

Stolas hmphed at him, “Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Stolas faltered in his self assured posture as he looked past Blitz to where Octavia’s eyes had widened.

“I had it handled!” Blitz was crying, oh, “They could have punished me. I had it coming. You didn’t have to take the fall for me. You didn’t have to put yourself in danger for me.”

Not this again. But this time somehow the look in Blitz’s rage filled eyes was different. It was defensive, it wasn’t true anger. It was guilt.

“I’m sorry, Blitz,” Stolas softened his voice, “I don’t think you can make that choice for me.”

“I don’t deserve it, whatever you promised them, whatever you did to—please don’t tell me—it can’t be. Are they going to take you both back?”

Fuck, Stolas was still so endeared by this man it wasn’t even a joke anymore. Did Blitz really take the blame for himself not only to save his family but also so Stolas and Octavia didn’t have to face them? As if that would have ever worked, his father had clearly been there for him, but fuck, nobody had done that for him before. Tried to keep him safe.

Stolas smiled, dropping his arms to his side as he walked up to Blitz, “No, I gave up my title. I got banished.”

He chuckled, he thought it was pretty funny all considered because all this time and just now did it dawn on him that this is what he had been waiting for.

Octavia stepped forward a few steps, a look of confusion on her face soon replaced by a calculating one.

“What?” Fizz let out in the silence that had fallen over everyone, “You’re not a Goetia anymore?”

“Not anymore,” Stolas felt the tickle of a giggle at the back of his throat but Blitz didn’t seem to find that funny.

“Are you serious?” He growled, wiping away at his eyes, “They took your title? This is bullshit, no,” he shook his head, his eyes steely, “I’ll go back in there and tell them everything. This isn’t worth it, Stols.”

Stols. Stolas’ lips stretched into a wide beam as warmth filled his chest and something fluttered in his stomach, the uncertainty about a future yawning and leaving to take a long nap for now. Blitz, Loona and Stolas’ friends were free. Stolas no longer had to answer to his father, or deal with Stella and her brother, and Octavia—

Oh. Yes. He needed to talk to her.

Still, Stolas didn’t stop himself from wrapping his shaky arms around Blitz’s shoulders, pulling the shocked man into his embrace and dropping into it himself. He sighed into the ear next to him, satisfied at the shudder that went though the shorter man.

“It’s worth it, Blitz. It’s what I wanted.”

He felt Blitz sink into the hold at that, encircling his arms around his upper back and waist and loosely gripping at the material of the shirt, the distance between them the closest it had been in fucking months. Stolas would never choose to be anywhere else for all the money his former family could offer him.

It was kind of sad how hung up he still was.

He scratched lightly at the back of Blitz’s head, feeling the coarseness of the hair, and smiled at the whimper the man let out, shoving himself further into Stolas’ chest, his grip tightening. One of Blitz’s hands travelled up to his ear, a finger landing on the pulse thrumming behind it, his knuckles knocking against the earring dangling on it, the soft jingle of it grounding him in the moment even more. Stolas burrowed his face into the space between Blitz’s neck and shoulder, not even minding the sterile scent of the clothes they had been given. He was simply glad that he could still feel the rush of blood beneath him, the heat of the skin, the rough and rubbery patches of the scars. The head still on that neck.

“I’m so glad you’re alive, Blitz. It’s worth it,” he whispered and Blitz squeezed at his back with both arms. Accepting. Grateful.

They heard a throat clearing from somewhere to their side and Stolas giggled as Blitz whined petulantly and held on even as Stolas tried to pull away.

“I mean, beautiful reunion and all,” Stolas turned to the side, stroking at Blitz’s nape softly, as Fizz pretended to wipe a tear from his eyes, a knowing smirk on his lips, “But please don’t start fucking right here in Ozzie’s office. Also, your kids are right here.”

“I don’t fucking care anymore,” Loona yelled out from the couch where she had not moved an inch from but clearly had heard everything.

“I do!” Moxxie said through his teeth before it turned into a smile, his freckles lighter now that they hadn’t seen the sun for a while, “But I’m also fucking glad we’re all alive.”

Stolas held Blitz back a little, stroking his cheek with the back of a finger, eyes softening as he melted into it. He moved away but not for long as another smaller body crashed heavily into him.

“Thanks so much for the help, Stolas,” Millie wrapped her arms tightly around him, crushing Stolas’ ribs and Stolas patted her on the back, laughing to himself.

She let go, her eyes teary, “This dumbass was going to do something so stupid. Thanks for coming in at the right time.”

“Yes, of course, Millie. Consider it payback for all the months you had to put up with us.”

“You’re also a dumbass,” she punched his arm softly, “Nothing you do in your life will be enough to pay back for that, you’re stuck with us.”

Millie wiped her eyes with the palm of both hands but Stolas giggled at the teasing tone in the words, thankful that she could still joke around.

He looked over at Octavia who had turned her back to all of them, facing the window, completely silent and his laugh stuttered.

“Listen,” he addressed the rest of them, looking in an obvious manner at his daughter and Blitz and Millie backed away from him, “Why don’t you all take nice, proper baths and shake off all this. And get some rest. If it’s okay with you, Fizz. Or could you arrange for someone to take them back to my place?”

“Here is fine,” Fizz huffed, tapping his foot, “Come on, fuckers. Let’s make you all civilised enough.”

Blitz stammered that he was civilised enough, his fists waving around and Millie caught him by the arms. They looked at Stolas who nodded at them to go ahead. Loona groaned as she rolled off the couch, her back cracking and should someone that young have such regularly cracking backs, Stolas wondered. They all followed Fizz as he walked out of the office, whistling.

Stolas closed the door behind them, resting his forehead on the cool wood.

“Via.”

“Dad.”

Oh, no. Stolas’ shoulders rose as he turned around, a hand pulling at his collar as his daughter stayed facing the window.

“Are you angry at me?”

Octavia exhaled loudly and turned around, her brows furrowed, “What did you really do?”

“I talked to my father,” Stolas tripped over his own feet to close the distance between them hurriedly, “I asked him to let me go and he banished me.”

“Just like that?” Octavia looked doubtful, she backed away as Stolas reached for her.

“Well,” Stolas winced, his arms falling limp by his sides, “It was a gamble. But it worked. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t have to give up anything important in return.”

“Then…what about me?” Octavia questioned timidly, “If you’re not a prince anymore, then what does that mean for me?”

“You’re still my heir,” Stolas said firmly, holding onto one arm with another, “And Stella is still part of the Goetia. I doubt our marriage counts anymore, but you’re our daughter nonetheless. You have claim to the title. And you’re of age.”

Octavia ran her eyes all over his face, a small look of betrayal in them, “Then… I have to go back? Get married?”

“No! Fuck no. No, your marriage has been called off,” Stolas reached for her again and this time she let him put a hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry, I should have probably started with that. And, I told my father that I would talk to you about whether you would want to take my title.”

“Talk to me? So, I can refuse. They don’t expect me to accept?”

Stolas sighed as Octavia looked even more confused.

“They do. I’m sure father expects me to talk you into it. But I won’t,” Stolas dropped himself into the chair Octavia had been sitting on, massaging at his temples, “If there’s anything I learned all these years, it’s that I would never let you burden yourself with all of that as long as I’m still alive. It’s your choice in the end and I’ll always be there for you. And, selfishly, I do hope you’ll reject. I don’t think you should have to do something you don’t want to just because you’re my heir,” Stolas shook his head as Octavia leaned against the wall beside him, her face overshadowed in thought.

“We could—we could stay together, they won’t bother us again. Just as how we are here.”

“Hmm, but it is my choice, right, dad?” Octavia raised an eyebrow at him.

“Of course.”

“What happens if I reject it? Who gets all your stuff?”

Stolas scoffed because who even cared about that, “Andrealphus has appealed to father to take over in case you don’t want to.”

Octavia’s mouth curled into a frown, hitting a palm with a fist as she stood up straight.

“Oh, fuck no!” She exclaimed, “That’s not happening.”

Stolas blinked as Octavia muttered more curses lowly under her breath.

“Starfire—“

“You do trust me, don’t you?”

Stolas blinked some more, pushing himself to his feet as Octavia looked livid.

“Of course, how could I not? But, sweetheart, this—you do realise—“

“I realise,” Octavia snorted humourlessly, replaced by an unsure look on her face, “Just—just help me, okay? It’s scary, but I think I know what to do,” she paced around in front of him, cracking her knuckles restlessly, “All this time I’ve been thinking and I’m a little tired of having people treat me as just a replacement or an heir for you, dad. Or just a pawn to be married off. It’s like none of them know me for who I am and what I’m capable of and they think they can underestimate me and push me around.”

Just like you, Stolas clenched his teeth as an invading voice whispered that to him, shaking his head to clear it because that’s not what his daughter was trying to say, was it?

“It’s nothing I hold against you,” Octavia pulled on one of his hands, grabbing his attention, “You did all you could to make things better for me even if nobody else did, but I think I want to reclaim some of the power I should have over decisions that affect me.”

Stolas sighed in defeat at the determination in his daughter’s eyes. He had no clue she had been feeling this way for so long. A whole lot of pride for the things his daughter realised at such a young age that had taken him years to learn blazed through his chest. He pushed aside the need to unnecessarily tell her that she was wrong about everything she said, that she was the best thing to happen to him, because she was not wrong. The rest of the Goetia definitely thought of her as nothing more than what she had assumed.

“I’ll always help you, whatever you need.”

Octavia crashed into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and Stolas smiled as he lay his head on top of hers.

As she pulled away, she had a mischievous look on her face, “Whatever I need, huh? Well, you can start by working things out with your shitty not quite lover there.”

“Via!”

Octavia cackled at his offence and hugged him again, nuzzling into his hold and grumbling about how glad she was that he was alive but they should just never do this again.

Stolas sighed as that uncertainty grumbled and woke up unrested from its nap.

Chapter Text

Stolas cried. Of course he did.

He locked himself in the nearest bathroom and cried heavily against the locked door after he had taken Octavia back into the courtroom where she made her decision to take up his title known to everyone and his father gave Stolas the task to prepare her for her role within a month when she would have to leave for Solomon.

Paimon had expressed his pride for her because finally someone was stepping up to what was expected of them and ordered Octavia to be left alone to make her own decisions, Stella and Andrealphus fuming beside them. Octavia had just rolled her eyes and growled at Andrealphus as he had slyly slunk up to Stolas, who stood feeling emptier than he had all day, and taunted him.

He put a hand over his mouth and bit down to stifle his sobs as Asmodeus ordered the Goetia to leave his city because so many of them having arrived all together could scare his citizens. The family he had been banished from would set sail from Lust and that would be the end of it. This need to cry grew out of relief as the thought of finally, actually being free, and being free from Stella after almost eighteen years, sunk into him.

Stella had turned her chin up at him as everyone left the courtroom and let him know that their marriage was as good as over because she’d rather not stay tied to such embarrassment, even more of one now, and that it would do him good to never mention it because a divorce would be too shameful to the family name and, more importantly, to her. He would just have to never set foot in Solomon ever again. That had made him want to laugh in her face. He had snorted, wondering in what world did Stella think that was a humiliating punishment for him.

And he had cried again as he remembered the way Octavia had pulled at his hand after, reminding him that it wasn’t her mother’s choice to decide whether he could come back to the palace or not.

Oh, right. It all belonged to his Starfire once she went there.

Stolas felt the need to see his father off, for some inexplicable reason, when the Goetia gathered at the harbour to board the ship, even if he wasn’t planning on saying anything. He wasn’t alone, however. Blitz, Loona, Millie and Moxxie were right there beside…well a little way farther from the royals who had taken them captive and almost executed them, but they were there. All cleaned up and dressed in the extremely vibrant and patterned clothes Fizz had provided them.

Stolas introduced Vassago as ‘that Vassago’ that Stolas had mentioned when Blitz had taken him captive and Blitz, to his surprise, genuinely thanked the man, promising him that he would do him a favour right back for the way he had come through with saving their skins. Vassago had rolled his eyes, glaring through his glasses as he told them he was always happy to put that arrogant bastard in his place. Stolas absentmindedly dared to speculate what kind of history him and Andrealphus shared, if any. Vassago let him know as he stepped to board the ship that he’ll watch over Octavia when she came to occupy her palace whenever he could, that he will keep in contact and send him a letter as soon as he suspected anything to be wrong.

Stolas cried as the Goetia ship sailed away and the people around him closed in on him. He felt the comforting touches on a surface-level, fleeting way but was too tired to discern who all they belonged to.

They celebrated the day at the palace. Stolas was skeptic about whether it was really a victory but he was glad that the rest of them treated it as such. Asmodeus prepared food and drinks and nice, comfortable bedrooms for the night.

Stolas sat in an armchair near the low table around which they were all lounging in various states of ease, having deemed a dining table too proper for the occasion. He swirled the wine in his glass, having sipped at it just once or twice, as he observed the people around him.

The pirates looked really weak, their faces sunken with fatigue, and barely had the energy to respond to Fizz’s absolute elation at them making it out with their heads still in place from a room full of power hungry royals but they were all grinning anyways. Despite all the tiredness, they must have been happy. Relieved. To be alive, to have their family back together, to have Octavia back with them.

She had let them know her decision over dinner and they had all paused in their actions for a single moment as she fidgeted with her food. Then Loona had patted her on the back, telling her that if anyone could handle being around those people and not go insane, it would be her.

That had broken the lull in activity as Octavia giggled, exclaiming how excited she was about what was to come. And Moxxie was teasing her by calling her ‘Your Highness’ and ‘Princess’, and Millie and Asmodeus seemed to be engaged in a conversation about…toys that he seemed to be making these days, Stolas did pretend not to listen in to that even as his curious ear kept picking up bits of it. And the four of the pirates—ex-pirates? But Stolas doubted that—ex-captives gobbled up all the food being set in front of them and Fizz sarcastically advised them to slow down as just because they were not cleaning up their blood off of the floor didn’t mean they wanted to clean up the regurgitated food their famished stomachs couldn’t hold in.

And Fizz and Blitz sat side by side, joking around cautiously and glancing hesitantly at one another from time to time as they talked about the past, and how glad Fizz was that his friend was alive, they put their heads together as the night went on, catching up…

Stolas looked down at the glass he held loosely, that feeling of emptiness persisting. He was spent. He managed to smile at the concern aimed towards him, and threw out a few words that felt like nails piercing his windpipe here and there to keep that concern away, he managed to have some of the fish that was prepared because he had realised he hadn’t eaten all day and maybe that’s why his stomach was lurching. But he couldn’t stop sinking into his thoughts.

Doubts.

He could keep staying in Lust for the time being but his mind kept playing over and over all the things that had happened over the past few months. How easy everything looked and how fun when he had planned it all out that one night in his study, out of desperation, or perhaps out of a naive need to experience something. How long had that been now? How happy he had been when he realised he was giving his daughter freedom, how scared he was, and how happy and relieved again on the ship that Blitz had informed him his father had burned down.

Then all that confusion and guilt and regret from that evening before they had gone to Ozzie’s that changed Stolas’ whole view on how Blitz felt about the whole time he had been in their company and yes, Blitz had hugged him today and seemed concerned for him but he wondered if that too was out of a sense of guilt as well.

And then, all he could think about as the evening dwindled was how many things he would have to teach Octavia before she was ready to leave for Solomon. How she must be wary of the people around her and something told him, she might be better at it than he was. He had endured all those years, for her, or maybe because he never even had the courage to find an escape until now. But she was way more unforgiving than him. She had refused to talk to Stella when she came over with a pretend sad smile on her face and called Octavia over to let her know she was missing her and how she’d like to warn her about some things if she chose to stay on with Stolas. Maybe, it would all be alright. But their home they had made here would feel so empty once she left.

He had left his place over the bakery in a hurry, all items and clothes thrown and strewn all over and it was almost after dinnertime now. He wondered if their old landlady cared. The keys to the side door of the bakery that he used on nights he returned too late and the front door had been locked clinked in his pocket as he played with it.

He felt relief. He also felt afraid. Unanchored, as always. Always missing something, always losing something. Never doing things right enough to the point where he had everything he wanted.

He was…he needed—he needed some air.

He sat until one by one the yawns came and they all decided to retire for the night. Octavia hugged him, whispering a sleepy goodnight as she went to room with Loona for the night, the older girl having sullenly admitted she’d like to not be alone after all those days locked in the brig. Blitz waved at him, his eyes drooping and he stared as Asmodeus squeezed Stolas’ shoulder and asked if he was going to sleep soon as well. Stolas told the royal that he just wanted to sit there for a while longer and Blitz nodded to himself as he left with his friends, massaging his belly. Stolas chuckled at that as Asmodeus closed the door, telling him to let the closest guard know when he left.

Then, as he was left alone in the silence of the room and heard the footsteps outside recede, he got up to his feet and walked out of the palace.

He strolled by the seaside towards the bakery for a while, too lost in thought to take notice of the people also out, returning home or just taking a walk after dinner. His sight focused on counting the cobblestones his shoes passed, guided by the bright moonlight of the full moon, his legs giving out at the sight of the benches placed in intervals along the low boundary wall on the cliff edge on the way.

He dropped bodily onto one, enjoying the way the cold, winter sea breeze cut into the exposed skin of his face and his arms and torso, shivering as he realised he had left his coat at the palace.

He sighed in resignation, closing his eyes to drive away the thought of the cold.

And felt a warm weight being placed over his shoulders.

He startled, a loud, embarrassing squawk escaping him as the person hovering behind him jumped.

“Fucking hell, Stolas. You trying to kill me yourself now?”

Oh.

Had Blitz followed him out of the palace? He hadn’t noticed. As he turned his head sideways to look at the man, Blitz stood sheepishly, dressed in only an untucked shirt and pants, the dark blue coat he had worn now placed over Stolas’ shoulders. He looked awake, much more than at dinner, poking at his ears at the noise Stolas made. And then he gave Stolas the softest smile he had ever seen on the man.

Stolas’ heart fluttered away with the next gust of breeze.

“Saw you walk out from the window of the room I was in,” lie, there were no windows in that direction, “What are you doing out here?”

“Hmm,” Stolas shifted a bit on the bench in case Blitz wanted to sit, securing the coat, which had somehow acquired Blitz’s scent in just a few hours, over himself properly, “Needed some air.”

“Yeah, being stuck in a room full of stuffy nobles all day will do that.”

“Yes, Blitz.”

Blitz shuffled his feet and then sat beside him without hesitation, their arms brushing against one another. They sat like that for a while, in silence, Stolas breathing out visibly in the cold and looking out at the way the moon reflected on the edge of the frothy waves. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Blitz’s head turning towards him, his form slumped on the bench, hands in his pockets. Until he brought the one in between them out and reached his arm up to Stolas’ left ear.

Stolas moved away, curling slightly at the ghost of a tickle. Blitz seemed to have misunderstood his actions, though.

“Oh, shit, sorry. Should’ve asked.”

Blitz jerked his arm away and shifted as if to put some distance between them. Stolas shook his head at him, gripping onto the retreating hand and squeezing it once as he tilted his head down and guided his hand back, a sign to go on, whatever he was trying to do.

Blitz flicked the dangling star on the earring with a finger and it swung in the space between his ear and his shoulder, tickling his jaw. Blitz looked extremely fascinated by it as he flicked it a few more times, the little tinkle of the metal ringing in the air. He then moved his hand to caress the outer shell of Stolas’ ear and Stolas shuddered at the calloused fingertips, the touch of which had been imprinted in very, very deep crevices of his mind in the time they were apart.

“This is new,” Blitz’s whisper was too loud in the apprehension surrounding them now that there were no other people.

“Uh—yes. I wanted it and Fizz encouraged me, said it would look pretty,” Stolas rolled his eyes, huffing, “Thought I’d live a little.”

“Huh, fucking Fizz. He was right, though.”

Blitz tucked some hair behind the ear, dragging a finger down to his neck and removing it just as quickly. He reclined on the bench.

Did Blitz just—no, he wasn’t going to think about it.

“What else—“ Blitz cleared his throat, a slight flush on his cheeks and Stolas wondered if he was cold, “Fizz told me you work at Ozzie’s now? Never thought you’d be waiting on people, did you? What else is new with you? If you’re not sleepy, we could…catch up a little?”

He was rambling but…is that really why Blitz had followed him out? To catch up? They hadn’t had a chance to talk the whole day.

“I’m sorry about the whole ordeal today, Blitz.”

Blitz blinked at him, his mouth slightly open, “Huh, oh, are we doing that?”

He chuckled, waving his hand in front of his own face.

“Listen, Stolas, no worries, okay. It was my fault anyways, I should have reacted faster, got away from the ship faster—or maybe just hidden better. Or done something, I don’t know, but not your fault.”

“I left the Grimoire. Like an idiot.”

The Grimoire was back with him and he was glad, except he would part with it in a month, when his daughter took it and herself away from here.

“And I refused to chuck it away like I should have. Like an idiot. There we go, just a pair of idiots. Sitting on a cold wooden bench completely exposed to the winter breeze.”

“Why didn’t you?” Stolas whispered the question out.

“It was your book and you seemed to treasure it so much and I—“ Blitz huffed, pouting a bit, and Stolas watched captivated as the breath materialised as a white puff of air, “I hugged it to sleep every night because the scent reminded me of you. Pathetic, right?”

Stolas blinked slowly down at him as the words registered, the full moon illuminating the face before him. Blitz had always been so beautiful. Especially when he spoke his mind, the firmly built defensiveness thrown aside even if for a few seconds. The moonlight was making the brown of his skin glow, his scars standing out proudly on the side that was facing Stolas. And that tattoo…Stolas dug his fingers into his palms in case he did something stupid, like reaching out and touching. He seemed to carry a bit more of the boy he had met as a child all those years ago today.

“I—you know what, fuck it,” Blitz shook his head, frowning as he stared ahead, “I almost died today and all I could think about before that was how much I regretted leaving things the way we did between us. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I should have done differently. And you know what?” Blitz curled his fists on his thighs, “I fucking missed you. You and Octavia both. But fuck, I missed you.”

Stolas felt a heat creep up into his cheeks and he cupped the skin over one, dumbstruck. Blitz laughed at his actions, looking a bit shy himself. Blitz? Shy? Stolas pinched his cheek while his hand was still there.

“Oh—I…missed you too.”

“You sound unsure about that,” Blitz said, not bitterly but just a tad sadly, avoiding Stolas’ eyes.

“No, I did,” Stolas said more certainly, placing his hand over the fist gripping onto the fabric of Blitz’s pants, “I’m very sure, actually.”

Stolas watched as Blitz turned his face to the other side, mumbling something out to the air there and then he cleared his throat, removing his hand from under Stolas’, putting on a carefree tone. Even as the next words seemed to come out like gravel being spit out.

“Alright then. So, then, did you—did you find someone else here? After me. Are you seeing someone?”

Odd thing to bring up, but Blitz had told him he was very sure Stolas would find the next convenient dick, as he had put it. He was trying to prove a point, perhaps.

Stolas grinned mischievously, knocking his shoulder into the man beside him, “What if I did?”

Blitz stayed quiet for a while as Stolas waited for the onslaught of ‘I told you so’s but all he got was an unhappy little forced chuckle as Blitz knocked back into him gently, “I’d be happy, then. I’m actually impressed with how you’ve managed to settle here. But I knew you could do it. Looks like you didn’t need me to stay after all.”

I would want you to.

Stolas train of thoughts faltered, a voice cruelly whispering to him that Blitz was planning to leave again, even though he had no idea how they would manage that, and then his daughter would too and Stolas would be all alone. Again. Somehow, he needed something more than some sensible nonsense from the man beside him at that moment.

“Really?” He stretched the word out, pretending to mull something over, “You wouldn’t mind? I mean, you’re all probably going to be stuck here for a while until you find a way to get back on the sea. You really wouldn’t mind seeing me go out with some other guy? Hold their hand,” Stolas brushed up against Blitz teasingly slow, tangling their hands as if to show him and Blitz scowled. He leaned down next to Blitz’s ear, murmuring, “Kissed them right in front of you?”

Stolas laughed to himself, as Blitz shuddered and then frowned. Surely this would lighten the atmosphere between them because why would he ever mind that, Blitz didn’t want him like that.

“Shit, Stols, no need to kick a person down when they were already on the verge of death once today.”

What.

Stolas stared wide-eyed at the mildly contorted expression on Blitz’s face. He looked a little envious, his hands back into fists as he shoved them back into his pockets and a dullness overshadowing the moon reflected in those dark eyes. Stolas didn’t want to see that.

He laughed airily and flapped his lips with a pfft.

“I’m joking, Blitz,” Stolas leaned back on the back of the bench, resting his head, “I really didn’t have time for that. I was spending time with Via and adjusting to my job, and…life here. Via had to take a while to adjust too, after all those months at sea. Also, it’d probably have pissed her off if I introduced another man to her when she already likes you so much.”

He tried not to notice the heat of Blitz’s hopeful stare.

“That’s—she’d accept it eventually.”

Stolas scrunched his nose, “Are you trying to advice me to ask someone else out, Blitz?”

Blitz glowered at his playful tone, his eyes darkening and brows furrowing into cranky lines as he clenched his jaw, the muscle there ticking.

Stolas didn’t know why but he really needed to hear this answer. Now that Blitz might be here for a while, would he feel less pressured about how they left things between them if he knew that Stolas was…preoccupied otherwise? He probably felt a little guilty at being saved by the person he had fallen out with, so maybe he thought it would make things easier for him. But now that he was here, would Stolas be able to be with someone else anyways? He couldn’t even in his absence.

“Fuck no. If it were upto me—but no, Stolas,” Blitz started with an aggressive edge to his words but exhaled it away, his next sentences coming out softer, “You deserve to be happy. Especially after everything today. You gave up so much…for me. I can’t ask anything more of you. Wherever and with whomever, as long as you’re happy, birdie, that’s all I’ll need to know. You deserve better and if it’s not me, then it’s not.”

Stolas felt the waves crashing into the cliffs through his body as his heartbeat seemed to stop. So did his mind, because now he was very confused. That wasn’t…quite anything. But it was everything from Blitz who would have never have uttered anything like that a few months ago.

Fuck, this whole thing had frightened him, hadn’t it. It had frightened them both. This was too heavy of a conversation too soon. But he felt like he knew why they were having it, they were not prepared to talk about everything else that led upto today.

Stolas giggled, the back of his knuckles to his mouth. He relaxed the shoulders, having no idea when they had tensed up that much and moved his head closer to Blitz. He stared at the face before him, shock etched on the features at the proximity, levelling with those widened eyes, dark as the night at that moment.

“You’re right, Via would have accepted it sooner or later,” Blitz scoffed and twisted his head to look away but Stolas cradled his unscarred cheek, keeping his head turned towards him, “Oh, but Blitz, that was just an excuse. I told you, didn’t I? I missed you. Very much.”

Stolas wasn’t really thinking much except how badly he wanted to do it as he placed a soft, quick kiss to the taut skin over the other cheek, just a press of his hopefully not horribly cold and chapped lips. He pulled away, stretching his arms over his head, willing down his own dumb blush as he watched Blitz jump at the contact, spluttering and brushing over the spot.

Their eyes flickered to one another, Stolas putting his arm properly through the coat while Blitz seemed frozen with his hand on the cheek, looking as if Stolas had punched him instead. Then their eyes met and they both laughed at the sudden immature and awkward flustering between them even after they had seen each other fully naked several times.

“I have a place I rented a while ago for Via and I. Do you want to—“

“Just to sleep,” Blitz nodded solemnly, crossing his arms, his eyes determined. Cheeks still a bit darkened.

“Yes, dear, just to sleep. You need the rest,” Stolas definitely needed some, the way he felt his words and actions slip out of his hands.

“You do too,” Blitz yawned, slumping forward, “Why not just sleep at the palace?”

“I—just needed to go back,” Stolas blinked, “I left the place in a hurry, thinking I’d never get to see it again so…”

Blitz nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on him, gesturing him to go on.

“Also, I just needed some familiarity. I know we haven’t stayed there for long, but Via and I have made some good memories there.”

“And now that she will leave, you just want to hold onto it a bit longer.”

Stolas cried. Again. Which was also surprising to him because he thought he had run out of tears for a good few weeks after the day that it had been. Blitz stammered out a few ‘sorry’s and ‘fuck, why did I say that’ as Stolas crumbled inwards, his face in his hands, only nodding at Blitz’s sighed “Do you want a hug?”

“I—she—Blitz, how will I let her go?” He spoke with a rasp into Blitz’s shoulder, “How will she live there by herself?”

Blitz just rubbed up and down his back, until, “You want to go with her?”

Stolas shook his head as Blitz put his head against Stolas’ and he buried his further into the violet silk shirt below, “I can’t. I don’t really want to step foot in that palace ever again. But I just can’t help but think I made a mistake giving up my title,” he turned his head towards the sea, his cheek resting on the warm shoulder underneath.

“What if Octavia is feeling obligated to take it on?” he continued in a mechanical drone, “She has never showed much interest in it and I should have waited a while longer until she was older and I fear she’s only doing it—fuck, I should have just tolerated it all just a while longer.”

“Hey, Stols, no. Calm down,” Blitz said in a strict voice and Stolas felt it against the nerves of his face that was squished into Blitz’s neck, “You shouldn’t have to tolerate shit and it took spine to do all that you did. Don’t regret any of that. You can be worried about Via, that’s normal, that doesn’t mean you keep yourself miserable just for her. Didn’t you say you had no choice in taking the title, or to get married, and…all the rest. You made your choice today and you put everything on the line to make sure that she has a chance to make hers,” Stolas closed his eyes as a hand stroked through his hair.

“Nobody has ever given you a choice, Stols, about any of it. Let her make hers. What did you say back then, you’re done with people deciding things for you? Maybe she is too, right? Just trust that this is what she wants to do. She’d definitely tell you otherwise.”

Stolas knew rationally he didn’t regret any of it, just that it was difficult to not let his mind fall back into the same patterns of guilt and shame interwoven like heavy, suffocating blanket on top of him when he was stressed enough to want to pull out his hair. He had forgotten how good it felt to have someone to talk his miserable thoughts out to, his breathing calm as Blitz’s words flowed into his mind. He moved away from the hug and hung his head.

“I just…what will I do from now on, Blitz?”

“Here, birdie,” Blitz wiped off the tear tracks with the back of his palm tenderly, his lips turning up at the corners, “Lucky for you, I have the same question for myself. Why don’t we figure it out together okay. I’ll—I’ll stay with you. I’m not going anywhere. And we’ll figure out Via’s situation too. We just have to be there for her. If—if you want me to.”

Stolas sniffled and coughed lightly as the tears went down the back of his nose and to his throat. He nodded at Blitz, letting him dab at his eyes with the sleeves of his shirt.

His breath stuttered as Blitz squished his cheeks between his warm, broader palms, rubbing at the tip of his nose with a thumb as he gazed into his eyes.

“Look at you. Always thought you were so fucking beautiful a little messed up.”

Blitz moved away then, still looking at him, grinning from ear to ear but also looking a bit embarrassed at what had come out of his mouth. He yawned and stretched and Stolas was still staring dumbfounded at the complete change of attitude from when he had last seen him. He would need time to get used to this. It was like a completely different person. He just hoped Blitz wasn’t doing all this out of a sick need because he believed he owed him for saving his life. But then, Blitz never pretended about anything if he didn’t want to so would he be so—

Ugh, Stolas’ head fucking hurt. And he was also starting to feel a little itch at the back of his throat as he swallowed, his nose feeling stuffy.

He’ll ask for reassurance some other day . He had faced his father and threatened him somewhat and come out of it alive. He’ll be ready to face whatever answers Blitz had for him. Maybe. Why was this scarier somehow?

“Now, what about that bed you were talking about?”

“I’m afraid it’s just more of a glorified table,” Stolas replied, perfunctorily.

“Even better,” Blitz yawned again, rubbing at the sides of his own neck to warm it up, “I wouldn’t be able to get used to a softer bed after all these weeks sleeping on the hard ground,” Stolas winced at that and Blitz seemed to misunderstand that too, “Uh, I mean, unless it’s not. Better, I mean. I thought it’d be okay to just cuddle? Unless you need your space. I would totally understand that.”

Blitz rubbed the back of his head, glaring at the ground, “You know what, forget I said anything. I’ll walk you to your place and then go back to the palace.”

Stolas smiled at him, swinging his arm and grabbing onto Blitz’s on the way, entangling their fingers as Blitz glared at that instead but with much less heat.

It seemed they both had a lot to learn about each other. And that they needed to get into the habit of spelling things out loud for each other more often.

For now though, a cuddle did sound nice.

Chapter Text

After Stolas had given up his title and Octavia had officially claimed it, Blitz and the rest of I.M.P, well formerly, had decided to stay on in Lust with the pair.

They couldn’t go back to their old ways there, Asmodeus had strictly forbidden it, stating he had gone through enough trouble and made several allowances for them to last all of their lifetimes combined. So, they went around looking for any and all odd jobs they could find, did whatever they could to pull their weights around and feel useful, but all that time at sea and fending for themselves had definitely still been tested.

They had been provided rooms at the same inn they had stayed in, and M&M had taken up their room.

Blitz and Loona had moved in with Stolas and Octavia in the small apartment instead of the inn. Well, Blitz had. Loona alternated between staying wherever the fuck she wanted to, the room at the inn open to her whenever she needed it.

They did stay at the inn the first few days, not wanting to get in the way of Stolas and his daughter but then they were spending too much time at their place anyways—talking and joking and playing dumb games late into the night and falling asleep—that Stolas had just invited them to stay. They didn’t have much space and Blitz had to share the small cot in the living space that Stolas was using, his insistence on just sleeping on the floor firmly rejected by Stolas. Loona, whenever she stayed over, made herself comfortable in the one room Octavia used.

Moxxie had been allowed to trail after Asmodeus’ advisors once he expressed interest in the job but it was still not a paying one yet. So, they had found some manual labour work at the docks in the first week, just moving cargo around and loading them onto merchant ships. It was easy enough for them, and they had knowledge about how to handle that shit. Except, they also lost that job in a record nine days as the man in charge of overseeing the handling of the cargo had berated Loona over a small mistake of hers in handling a cart full of glass items, making degrading comments towards his daughter loudly for everyone else at work to hear as her eyes kept darting guiltily at Blitz.

Blitz had almost been halfway to beat the shit out of that guy when he ‘advised’ Loona to just quit this job and crawl back to the uncivilised doghouse she had run away from but she had dropped the entire cart to the hard ground, the shatter of glass loud in the warehouse, and pummelled the asshole right in the middle of work day before he could get there. Blitz was extremely proud but suffice to say, beating up a superior didn’t at all get them a job guarantee, especially when he had gone to town on the guy after Loona was done. He wouldn’t blame her though, the guy had it coming, no matter how sorry she was that she had lost them work.

Fizz had heard about it when he came to spend time with them at Stolas’ place and offered them jobs as his personal bodyguards. Millie had immediately agreed, a glint in her eyes as she was handed a range of weapons for the job. Moxxie had instead asked if he could be a performer at the pub with a spark of hope in his eyes and Blitz had groaned at the fucked up priorities of the guy. But, they had all come from the brink of death and fuck, if Moxxie wanted to sing his stupid songs on stage, if Asmodeus let him, then Blitz would yell his name a few times from the crowd to cheer him on.

Loona had talked to Blitz about having found a library she could work at, her eyes avoiding his when telling him maybe she wanted to try something a bit different, covering it up with a flippant remark about how she would love to sit around and do basically nothing all day compared to all this shit. Blitz had nothing but encouragement for her even though he knew it wouldn’t be long before it all ended the same way as their first attempt at a job.

Fizz did ask Blitz for the bodyguard job too but Blitz had felt too tired after the trial shit. He felt like he needed rest from all the constant alertness, the way his body was strung up at all times over years of training it to be like that, and he just wanted to spend time with his childhood best friend without the pressure of not being able to protect him again. So, he had said he would think about it and left it at that. Maybe he would. Later.

Stolas had gone back to his work at Ozzie’s, taking a lot of time off for that month and spending as much of it as he could with Octavia, teaching her about her duties and how she should conduct herself and be cautious in the palace and around other nobles. How to not show any perceivable weakness, how to utilise her claim to her status to protect herself and also how to properly carry out the powers she would now have. And other things, how she should be wary of her uncle who can easily influence her mother, a list of people, not at all very long, whom she could trust: Vassago, and a couple of butlers and cooks, and other staff around the palace.

Blitz sat by silently, listening to Stolas go on as if he had personally written a guiding manual on how to survive the Goetia and took his time learning a lot of unsaid things about the guy.

After the job at the harbour, Blitz had taken to lazing around at Stolas’ place storming his brain about what he could do when the lady who owned the bakery, Susan something, had knocked at the door one day, looking to see if Stolas could thread a needle for her. Her worn out, raggedy, baking apron had been hanging in her hand, a huge tear in it. Blitz had sewn it back shut as well as a few other small tears in a short time, while chatting with the woman, shoving her freshly baked breads down his throat as she admired his shabby work and asked him where he learned to sew. He had told her that he used to work in a circus since he was a child and that the performers had to make their own costumes so it was difficult to not have picked these skills up.

And soon, Stolas had come back after his shift one afternoon, his eyebrows rising to his hairline at the sight of Blitz sitting in the middle of the shop surrounded by a gaggle of older women as well as some younger ones, a few men too, as they came with requests for Blitz to do some patching up and clothing adjustments for them. But more or less just a lot of suggestive gestures and words thrown at him, even though all Blitz could think about was the silver-blond man with the pretty eyes upstairs.

It had become like a job for a while, Blitz never having thought people would pay him for the small fabric repairs that his mother used to do without a complaint or getting paid a single coin.

But Octavia was still leaving in a month’s time and the time for that had approached much faster than Blitz thought Stolas was prepared for.

The guy had tried to put on a cheerful front in front of his daughter to not make her nervous any further, but whenever she wasn’t looking, Stolas was spending most of the time groaning to himself and crying wherever Blitz found him. Blitz never thought to leave his side then, even though sometimes it exhausted him to keep repeating the same comforting words to the man crying into his shoulder. It was exhausting for someone like him to say any comforting words to anyone at all, he just wasn’t built for it.

The need to not let Stolas, pretty, but always sad, Stolas, deal with that shit alone, however, overpowered almost everything. He couldn’t even imagine what he would do if Loona suddenly decided to leave him and go somewhere far to do her own thing. He would respect her choice, of course, but he would absolutely be worried and scared for her. And the absence of her in his daily life, it would kill him. Blitz knew what it was to be alone, he had experienced it for a good few years, and Stolas didn’t need to while he was here.

It was nice for a month, it was fun, they were all doing their own little things. They were all pretending the time for one of them to leave wasn’t approaching, that the way they were getting tired of the lives there wasn’t happening, and it was fine. Blitz almost convinced himself he could just keep this little family they had carved out on the outskirts of Lust. But he knew it wouldn’t last. This wasn’t who they were, none of them. This was simply what they were putting up with for lack of anything better.

And then Octavia left with tearful goodbyes, breaking down when Stolas did after trying to act strong for the entirety of the day before. Stolas kept pleading her to send a word immediately to him in case she needed any help and Octavia had just assured him that she would be fine, Stolas had to do what she was doing much earlier and with much less support and it wouldn’t be the same for her so he could rest assured. She had hugged Loona, promising to write to her about all the new shit she’d try and then hugged Blitz tightly, almost squeezing the air out of his lungs as she whispered harshly to him to take care of her father.

Everything fell apart after that, or maybe it was just the disturbance that happened before everything actually fell into place.

But it was fucking difficult for Blitz to think so when Stolas became a mess for a good few weeks. He hardly had the energy for work or the patience to deal with customers, returning each day more and more irritated than the last, sometimes more drunk than others. While in there, he kept dropping things here and there because he was too spaced out, angrily pushing away Blitz’s attempts to help him. He was constantly lethargic; when he wasn’t working, he was sleeping and when he wasn’t sleeping, he was worrying himself sick. He was hardly eating anything but the sweets that the lady downstairs kept sending up, a gesture of thanks for Blitz’s help.

Blitz could barely try to talk to him without expecting to get harsh, curt responses back. He wrote a bunch of letters addressed to Solomon and sent none of them, throwing them away when Blitz asked if he should send them for him. Blitz tried not to take any of it to heart, he really did, instead focusing on other ways to help him out. A few warm buckets of water for a bath, arranging his shit when he was too tired to, making their food even if he had to eat it all himself or Loona dropped in to have some. Buying him a few books even though they remained untouched. Even once setting some flowers he had bought from the market on the table as Stolas walked right past them, his eyes vacant. Blitz threw away the wilted flowers after a few days.

Then one day, Stolas had returned earlier than expected as Blitz was cleaning up the windows in the shop, staggering up, visibly drunk. He didn’t leave his bed, not even for his next shift. Didn’t go to work the next day after that either and Blitz hesitantly questioned if he had quit. Stolas had glared at him from where he had half his face buried in the bed and yelled at Blitz asking him if he had nothing better to do, and then some more yelling about how he wanted to buy himself something on his way back from work but couldn’t because he could no longer afford it. He didn’t say what it was but Blitz wondered if it was more alcohol.

When Blitz had gone to talk to Fizz at the pub after being yelled at to leave Stolas alone, he had learned Stolas hadn’t quit, he had just walked out and wasn’t turning up and his coworkers were pissed as well as concerned. Blitz confirmed with Fizz that evening that he would take up his offer for being his personal guard, Millie turning a sad, downcast look at him.

She had been losing her liveliness everyday as the job that she thought would be similar to what she had been doing was nothing more than knocking a few people out of the way, and that was on an exciting day. But it paid well, of course, so what could they complain about.

He had gone back to Stolas’ place that night and placed some food he had packed up from when Fizz had ordered dinner for them beside Stolas as those red-gold bleary eyes followed his movements quietly. He had smiled at the man and told him he could take a break from work if he wanted to, he had found something and he’ll try to make enough for them both for the time being.

Stolas had nodded quietly, mumbling apologies to Blitz for the words he had said earlier, that he didn’t mean any of it and Blitz didn’t deserve it. He just needed some time. And Blitz didn’t know what else he could do at that moment to make everything better for them all. As days went by, he had started feeling so useless.

This strange restlessness that had been present for a while in him grew rapidly as he realised just how boring guarding his friend was as days went by on his new job. It seemed this was also the same restlessness that Millie was feeling when he talked about it with her. They had spent so many years living a certain way and now his hands itched for a little violence that he couldn’t afford to solve things by because he was supposed to not get in trouble.

This sense of order they had to follow, it wasn’t sitting right with him. It felt too much like someone forcing him to behave. And it was a feeling he did not fucking like.

And every day when he would return after safely having walked Fizz back to his royal lover, he would come back to a crying former royal of his own.

Moxxie seemed happy enough for a few weeks, until the clientele started making demands and joked harshly at his words while he was on stage and then every time he had to walk on, he had started sweating buckets, not even Millie’s encouragement enough to bring his surety in himself back fully.

And Loona had stormed in one evening while Blitz was halfway to raising a spoon to his mouth and groaned as she stole his plate, telling him offhandedly that the head librarian had fired her because she was apparently starting too many arguments with the people but she couldn’t help the fact that they were all complete dumbasses. They had also said something about her lacking social skills, asking her about her upbringing.

Blitz had choked on his food, asking her if he needed to kick the shit out of someone. She had longingly looked at the gun on the table that Blitz had been given for his job.

“Some world this is,” she had said, ignoring the sounds of hoot-like snoring from Stolas, “where you are the best boss I’ve ever had.”

You just have a hard time with authority, there’s nothing wrong with you, Blitz didn’t say. Instead he woke Stolas up with how loud he was crying in the bathroom after Loona had left, stating she needed a drink.

Stolas and him were alright with each other again, though. They were starting to go back to talking, and not walking on eggshells around each other anymore. The break from having to work seemed to improve Stolas’ mood a little. They weren’t really uncomfortable with physical contact, it was difficult when they had not changed their habit of sleeping in the same bed, but still Blitz could tell there was a conscious effort on both their parts to not want to cross any lines.

Then one evening, almost a month from when Octavia had left, Stolas had talked to him. Not just about his day, not just about food, not some snarky remark here and there that Blitz could play off of. But really talked.

He had started with an apology about how he had been treating Blitz and how he shouldn’t have felt forced to take extra work just because he was throwing a tantrum. Then he held back a sob as he said as long as Octavia had been there, he had to think about their survival and so he hadn’t been properly registering how big of a change his life had gone through, about how he didn’t think much about how he had to work now, he was just doing it because he had to. And he just didn’t have the energy to do it for himself.

Blitz laughed it off, telling him Blitz wasn’t one to sit around and do nothing anyway, especially if he was living with Stolas and taking up his space.

“I don’t know how to depend on someone,” he said as he put the food he had got from the pub. One of the upsides to working for Fizz being that he had free dinner almost everyday.

I don’t want to owe anyone anything. No.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

You don’t have to do anything for me.

“Blitz,” Stolas whined, making his way to the small table, pushing back a chair, his face pushed into both palms.

Blitz sat down, smiling as he pushed a plate towards the other man, his tongue loosening in the dimly lit room.

“You know, I was ready for that trial to be the last few hours of my life. I just don’t know anymore what to do with all the loss it has resulted in, it has left me a bit shaken.”

He had so many realisations in those hours and now he would have to be brave enough to face them.

Stolas looked up from the security of his palms, staying silent as he listened to Blitz.

“I was terrified when you showed up,” Blitz said as he swallowed a bite, his eyes rooted to his own plate, “Felt like I had just fucked up every good thing I had by not doing enough to keep everyone out of trouble.”

Stolas pushed his own food around, “You’re an idiot,” he said, a fond tone in his words, “There’s no way I wouldn’t have turned up after I found out. It was my choice just like the one you made when you put yourself at risk in Wrath for us. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse, they could have easily killed you all at sea and I wouldn’t know a thing. You were always more at danger than me, they just wanted me to come back. Thank fuck I figured out a way around that.”

“What was it?” Blitz chewed as Stolas stared adoringly at him, swallowing the discomfort at that away, “You never told me.”

Stolas chuckled to himself, not telling him then either.

But he talked about his life back at the palace as the night grew on and Blitz washed up the plates, opening up to Blitz about what it had been like growing up there, how lonely, and how nowadays felt like a part of him was back to that again, even though he really appreciated Blitz doing so much.

And Blitz looked at the water dripping from his scarred knuckled to his unscarred fingers and opened up about the fire and how most of his life after had been affected by how unable he was to deal with the consequences no matter how he tried to distract himself, so he was sorry for all the shit he had said to Stolas before all this.

They ended up emotional and unguarded in the small, uncomfortable bed after that, snuggling into each other. Then Stolas started rambling again, whispering in the stillness.

“I feel useless. Like as soon as Via left, there wasn’t a reason for me anymore.”

He didn’t elaborate so Blitz felt his heartbeat thunder at the sentence, hoping, just hoping, Stolas wasn’t saying what he thought he was.

“All you can do is teach her how to protect herself from your own experiences, you can’t shield her from her whole life,” Blitz heard Stolas sniffle above where his chin rested on Blitz’s head, “Some things a person has to learn by themselves.”

And maybe it wasn’t very healthy either, for both of them to be so dependent on each other for happiness, Stolas wasn’t at the palace anymore.

“You don’t have to cage yourself in just because this is unfamiliar, birdie. I’m here for you,” Stolas pulled him in closer, muttering a sorry at the oof Blitz let out, “you can try and find something for yourself.”

“What do you want to do now?”

The simple question, uttered so softly in the quiet, terrified Blitz. He wanted to be honest but he didn’t know if Stolas would agree with him. He pulled away from Stolas, dropping his legs to the floor as he sat up, hunched over.

“I want to be back on a ship. With Loona and M&M. And fuck, even you, if you want that.”

He heard silence behind him, Stolas not making any movements.

“I don’t want to live under the laws that favour the rich and the powerful and not people like us. That is why we started doing what we did in the first place. Even if it’s dangerous, at least we don’t work for anyone but ourselves. I want to…go back to the only thing we had all turned to that helped us make something of ourselves when we all thought we were nothing.”

Blitz hated living under the protection of the fake identities that had them living under this system for the time being. That same one that had pushed them into what they did, that hurt them. It was satisfying to take from people who had too much, dammit. Especially when they themselves had taken it from the people who barely made enough.

He didn’t know to what extent Stolas would understand that, he didn’t grow up in the same circumstances that they did. No matter what, he always had money and his title protected him from suffering the same injustice they did. But Stolas knew what it felt like to be suffocated by the expectations around a person to be someone they really weren’t, especially when all they meant to do was take, and use, and only give to people who hold power over others.

There was a rustle as Stolas shifted on the bed, laying his forehead on Blitz’s back and he broke the silence with a simple, “Then that’s who you are, Blitz.”

Blitz felt tears rise to his eyes and he didn’t dare to wipe them away in case Stolas found out.

Stolas sighed, snaking his arms around his waist from behind.

“That’s what I admire about you. You have always been this person who just…made their life their own. You were my ray of hope. I did so many things I thought I’d never get to because of you.”

Blitz hadn’t kissed him yet and he wanted to so bad, everyday in fact, but so bad at that moment that it ached.

Stolas wasn’t even seeing anyone else despite Blitz consoling himself that he would be fine if he did. He thought he was making himself clear that his feelings had changed since that evening when he had said all those words but he didn’t know how much Stolas was picking it up. He hoped everyday that Stolas would ask him again, those same questions, but maybe the time for that had passed. He was already staying with him, that was that, but there was no house, no lighthearted fun, and their daughters were off trying to do their own thing.

“I just hope…” Stolas continued, teasing tone in his words as he hooked his chin over Blitz’s right shoulder, “That maybe you would be more…picky about who you kill from now on?”

Blitz rolled his eyes, snorting, but he did agree.

“What do you want to do, Stols?” He asked as Stolas sighed into his ear, “Do you want to go back to Ozzie’s?”

“I—I know it sounds silly,” Stolas sounded hesitant and Blitz leaned his head against his in reassurance, “I kind of wanted to save up to open a flower shop of my own. But...I don’t know anymore. Nothing feels sure in my mind.”

Blitz squeezed at the hands locked over his stomach, smiling into the dark.

“We’ll get you that shop, Stols.”

Asmodeus called the four of them to the palace three months after Octavia had left. And showed them a letter from her. An official one with a seal and all.

As Blitz and the others stood gaping, Asmodeus read it out. It said that she was paying back the merchant crew that had ensured them a safe passage to Lust and compensating them for the ship that had been destroyed. Blitz blinked at that and Asmodeus informed them their new ship was at the docks, having been brought by a few sailors appointed by the Goetia and his guards would take them there if they wanted to take a look at it.

Millie grabbed his arm painfully as he hissed but she looked more excited than she had in days, Moxxie’s eyes flitted from side to side, the way they usually did when he was thinking. And Loona had immediately agreed to the offer to go to the harbour, looking extremely pleased. Blitz had never thought about how Octavia could actually do that now, and he felt so much gratitude towards the young girl.

Asmodeus stared at Blitz, sighing as a guard brought him a box that he took and opened in front of them. A diamond shaped, yellow crystal shining in the light coming through the windows of the hall.

“If you decide to leave here,” the royal said, the jewellery against his ears glittering from the sunlight, “This is an Asmodean crystal. All my merchants who do carry out trade in other rings carry this. Wherever you travel, if you show this crystal, everyone will know you work for me. Legally. You just can’t go back to pirating if you accept, I can’t be shown to support that lifestyle.”

Moxxie took the box in his hands and examined the crystal and he probably thought it would be a good thing. But Blitz just didn’t know if it was something he wanted. To be associated to a royal, even one that had helped them as much as Asmodeus had. Even one that was fucking his friend.

“This is really thoughtful,” Blitz twiddled his thumbs as Loona kicked at the rug, “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

Moxxie hissed beside him furiously, “This could be really useful to us, Blitz.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if I live under the mercy and protection of the people who can kill us,” Blitz smirked and Asmodeus raised a dark eyebrow, a small amused smile on his lips, “I’ll try even harder to be a thorn in their sides actually.”

“I will pretend I didn’t hear the last part,” Asmodeus chuckled, looking slightly impressed as Millie took the box from Moxxie’s teary eyed grip and handed it back to the royal.

“Why—“ Blitz swallowed, bowing his head slightly, “Why help us so much?”

“Well,” Asmodeus pretended to think for a few moments, then looked around at them all, “Fizz is very important to me and I love him very much.”

Blitz already knew they were fucking but that…he was just as shocked at that as the rest of them gasped at the admission by the royal himself. Although their relationship had not been talked about by either of them, it was not much of a secret either. Millie had figured it out just a day into working for Fizz, for fuck’s sake.

“He cares about you and he doesn’t really get close to that many people. I want to make sure the people that he does consider friends are taken care of.”

They thanked the royal after that, promising to keep his secret even as he said he didn’t really care anymore. Then, they followed a guard out to the harbour.

Octavia seemed to have memorised their ship, was the first thing Blitz had thought when he looked at the new one. The layout, no fancy ass paint job, the pretty, sturdy wood it was built out of, the cabins, the deck, the size of the ship perfect for handling by their four people. Everything felt like an exact image of their old one. That they had stolen, obviously. Except this one was like as if the old one had never gone through years on the sea or dealt with any of them yet.

They all looked at one another after inspecting it and silently agreed to the same thing. They sat out on the deck and planned out what they all wanted. As a team.

That evening, as he returned to the bakery, he found Stolas reading a book on his bed, a blank diary beside him with a few scribbles. He smiled as Blitz entered the room and asked him how his day was. Blitz stared at him, in much more comfortable clothing now that summer had come around, his eyes bright in the sunlight through the window beside him.

Blitz strode over to the bed, putting one knee on it as he reached out to push the book down so he could look at those eyes.

“Blitz?”

“You want to go to Pride with me, Stols?” Blitz let Stolas put the book down over the diary, and sat down by the side of the bed, those long ass legs stretched out beside him.

“You are—where did you—“ Stolas seemed like he was having trouble getting the words out because of how choked up he was getting, “You are leaving?”

Blitz had agreed with the rest of his crew, he smiled as he realised they were back to being his crew again, that Stolas’ answer would determine his decision.

“Yes, only if you want to too.”

Stolas played with the buttons of his shirt and Blitz made conscious effort to not let his eyes slide down to where it was unbuttoned enough for his collarbones to be fully exposed.

“Why…why Pride? Why would we go there?”

Blitz gathered the sheets under his palm and crumpled them in his grip as he looked down, “It’s much closer to Solomon and Via could easily come visit as frequently as she wanted to.”

Pride was also where the Goetia had a lot of influence ever since their own King had retreated into his shell so nobody would bat an eye if a Goetian princess was to regularly stay in the island while visiting.

Blitz was almost pushed off the narrow bed as Stolas lunged at him, exhaling a short, happy laugh and wrapping his long, deceptively strong arms around his neck as he pushed his lips against Blitz’s. Blitz was too taken off guard to react at the same time and that was enough for Stolas to back away, looking horrified as he touched his own lips, just as shocked by his own actions.

“Oh, fuck,” Stolas whispered, slapping his palm to his head, “I’m so sorry, Blitz. I didn’t mean to—I don’t want to force you into anything. I’m sorry, that was dumb.”

Blitz’s mind caught up, and the first thing it said was fucking idiot, and he reached a hand out to grab the front of Stolas’ shirt as he pulled him into a proper kiss. Stolas falling into it after hesitating a moment as Blitz responded equally to the joy in his previous kiss, their lips sliding over one another. Stolas moved to lay back on the bed and Blitz fulfilled his months long need to crawl all over and press into every part of that pretty fucking man again.

It took them all a while to save money for their journey, having to also think about how they would settle in Pride. It took them all much less time to come to an agreement about setting sail and when. And it took even less time, if possible, for him and Stolas to fall back into each other’s bed. Again, made easier by the fact that they were sharing one to begin with. They did start fucking again, it was difficult not to since Blitz himself had been holding back too fucking long and Stolas, that horny fucker, was much, much worse than he could ever be.

This time, though, what they had didn’t stay confined to a bed or just between them like a dirty secret. They went around shopping for their ship, and Blitz only felt slightly dizzy with how much he was blushing as he stared at their joined hands. They went to have dinner at Ozzie’s during one of their final days before they left to watch Fizz juggle on a single wheel and Moxxie, who was taking every chance to live out his last days as a star, as put by him, sing.

Blitz didn’t grumble or shy away from the way Fizz teased him about it as he met up with him before they left. He even sent a smirk at the way Millie swung by and sat beside them, whistling at the way Blitz had a death grip around Stolas’ shoulder, glaring at anyone who tried to come anywhere close to the man with a flirty look in their eyes. Glaring at Asmodeus when he had picked up Blitz’s petname for Stolas and started calling him ‘birdie babe’ was probably not the best idea, but Stolas had not even blinked at that and he was fucking pissed about it.

This time, Blitz openly showed as much affection as Stolas needed. This time, Blitz didn’t hold himself back. Fizz was pretty proud of him.

In a year or so from their trial, they all had had enough of their lives in Lust and were all very ready to leave. Blitz did feel horrible about being separated from Fizz again, but he was glad Fizz was happy here and that they got to reconnect and become friends again. Even if they would never return to what they were before the fire, they did get their chance at a new start.

Stolas handed in his keys and hugged the old lady as she handed them a box of her baked goods. And Fizz pretended not to cry as he waved them off when they boarded the ship, brokenly promising to visit them, warning Blitz that he would kill him if he didn’t write to him.

Blitz smiled as their ship sailed away and he watched his friend being pulled into a hug by the tall royal beside him, the people all around them gawking at them but looking away as soon as Asmodeus glared at them.

Well, Blitz didn’t get too much time to worry about what was in store for them or what they had left behind because he was too busy pulling Stolas into his new cabin to fuck him into the new bed. He had to start making this one feel as much like home as the old one after all.

They did find a place to stay in Pride, him and Stolas and Loona, and Moxxie and Millie their own. Their places were pretty close by, although in a less expensive area of the main city near the biggest harbour. But it had cost them a whole lot of all their savings. Stolas had written to Octavia almost immediately, letting her know of their move and their new situation.

Octavia had come to visit within two weeks, dressed in a shirt and trousers and long, rich coat, a cape flowing behind her that she discarded as fast as she could.

Stolas immediately looked much more alive and cheerful once he had visible confirmation that she was doing quite well. She was back to chattering over dinner as they caught up, telling them all about how she could now take all the lessons she wanted on a whim, how she had a new sword master and was getting better each day, how nobody could object to any of it. Blitz hoped secretly that Stolas’ blood dominated over his ex-wife’s as to how Octavia would handle all that power as she grew older. He was soon distracted from that thought as Octavia talked about the horse-riding she had been doing the past few weeks.

Blitz let the father and daughter catch up in the following days, as they also went to look at places suitable for setting up Stolas’ shop. Meanwhile, Blitz and the rest followed a familiar path to a tavern with the striped horns on a board outside. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been to Pride before, in fact, they had done a lot of jobs around the city.

Except this time, Blitz put up a poster made by Moxxie that stated that any client who wanted to avail their service could contact them on their ship at the harbour, Blitz having changed their flag a slight bit to contain the letters of their team—and they were still I.M.P— so it wasn’t recognised as the same one as before. They advertised services that he knew the other assassins in Pride did not provide, jobs where targets lived outside the ring of Pride. Most assassins usually refused that in Pride because a lot of them did not own a ship and even if they did, the resources and time it took for that to happen was not worth the money they got paid.

They had their first clients very soon, and this time, he made sure Moxxie and Loona went through them and the jobs they took properly, only going for the ones where the target did deserve it. They had restocked some of their weaponry, whatever they could afford, and took a few jobs within the city first as they took their time settling into it.

Stolas had found himself an old, tiny, rundown place a few minutes of walking from the harbour, a bit further away from where they were staying. He loved the shop, not even looking at the cobwebs, and bird feathers and shit, and cracked walls and dust all over, gushing about the all around window panelling it had at the front which would be perfect for growing plants as the sunlight would come in.

He looked crestfallen as the owner had demanded an advance in rent but Octavia had without a second thought bought the whole place for him, much to Blitz’s amusement as he sat by the side on the floor, poking at a questionable stain in front of him. Stolas had been even more horrified as she told him to set it up any way he wants and she’ll pay for it. Stolas had refused adamantly, telling her he couldn’t ask that of her.

Octavia had rolled her eyes at that, “It’s generational wealth anyways, dad. Not like I’m having to work my ass off to pay for it. And if some of it went into making your dream come true, then what’s the harm?”

Blitz had stood up, dusting off his pants and making a mental note of all the work that would be needed to make this place even slightly presentable and slapped Stolas on the back and out of his reflexive shame.

“It sure does help to have a rich daughter, huh, Stols?”

So, Stolas had his little shop and the sparkle back in his eyes, as he paced around their shared space out in the living room, babbling about how he was going to clean it all up, what he wanted supplied, what he was going to grow and sell. And Blitz couldn’t help but pull him onto the much more comfier bed they had bought, only stopping when their daughters banged on the door to Loona’s room from inside, reminding them they were not alone.

They all took to working on the shop, and Stolas did try to hold back on asking for too much but Blitz and the rest of them, as well as Octavia, helped him clean up and decorate and order the first few batches of supplies and it only took about three weeks. They finished in time for Octavia to have to go back to her palace, even as she made a promise to be back within a few weeks. Before she left, Octavia had slid up to Blitz and asked him if he needed her to supply him any weapons because he was responsible for the ‘protection’ of her father, wasn’t he?

Blitz had simply laughed incredulously at the nerve of her.

They were fully back to their jobs as assassins and Blitz immediately noticed the changes in his family, the way they all looked much more comfortable in their own skins and hey, it paid well. Pride was a rich place and full of snobby, bitter but rich, people and even a few nobles.

They were back to travelling on sea a few months later. Stolas hadn’t wanted to join them but he helped them sort out their paperwork just as he had done on their old ship.

He had a shop to focus on now, which was starting to pick up business as soon as a rumour got out that it was run by a former noble who had voluntarily given up his title to stand up for the mistreatment of common people. Blitz may or may not have had something to do with that.

That had moved a lot of hearts and Stolas’ easy charm and cheerful, soft, melodic voice and sweetness surrounded by all the flowers he had managed to pot and grow, combined by the mystery of the fragrance of herbs boiling in the background, had put a lot of people at ease around him. Got him a lot of admirers.

Soon, he had people buying bouquets and plant seeds and wanting to learn how to grow them from him. He experimented with making scented oils and natural perfumes and simple medicinal ointments as well as syrups and they all got extremely popular. Blitz had to admire the amount of knowledge he carried and displayed as soon as he was doing something he was comfortable with.

Stolas had found himself something to keep busy with for the time it took I.M.P to go and come back from jobs and the first time they left Pride, he didn’t really have a lot to say about any of it, much to Blitz’s surprise. He had thought Stolas might get a little huffy, might nag them a bit, but he just rolled his eyes and begged them in his sassy way to please be careful this time around as he had no more titles to give up.

Needless to say, Blitz did shut him up, smirking as he bit lightly into that prissy fucker’s smiling bottom lip.

Chapter Text

“You look pissed, B. Everything okay?”

Blitz put down the crate he was carrying onto the deck and wiped off the sweat from his forehead, groaning as his backbone cracked when he straightened up. He ignored the question from Millie, stretching his back and looking around with a scowl, his shirt drenched in sweat because of the summer heat and the labour.

The sun was almost setting in the horizon but there was no relief from the humid, breezeless air around them. Several people were screaming out directions and orders and scurrying about as they loaded cargo or ammunition onto their own ships. I.M.P had found a nice paying job outside of Pride and on an island closer to Wrath, and they had decided to set off for it the coming morning. Currently, they were preparing for the journey. That would mean Blitz would not be seeing Stolas for the next couple of weeks.

And, surprisingly, that was also not why Millie called him out for being ‘pissed’.

“I’m not,” he grumbled, moving out of the way as Moxxie stepped onto the deck, boxes stacked upto over his eye level, blocking his vision. Blitz cheekily put a foot out in his way trying to see if he would trip. And he almost did up until Millie pulled him to the side at the last second and Blitz rolled his eyes.

He smirked as Moxxie glared and pointed at the offending leg.

“Refrain, sir,” he hissed, his eyes glowering in the red of the sunset, and then whispering conspiratorially to Millie in full earshot of Blitz, “He is pissed. About that thing.”

Millie droned a drawn out ‘oh’ as she bobbed her head wisely, a grin taking over her face at the end.

“Trouble with your birdie?” She dodged easily out of the way as Blitz took a light swing at her, cackling her shrill laugh all the while.

“There’s no trouble. He’s just annoying about things sometimes. And way too overprotective,” Blitz took out a smoke and leaned back on the side of the deck, his eyes narrowing as he thought about the entitled way the ex-prince would still act sometimes, “He’s pissed off at me for calling him out on it, so I’ve decided to be pissed too.”

It’s like you think you can still order people around, did you forget your family kicked you out.

He crossed his arms, putting his cig back as he patted himself down and realised he had left his lighter at the shop while collecting their supply of medicinal ointments. As well as the tiny potted plant Stolas had slid towards him with that hopeful smile, to add to his collection over his desk in the ship’s cabin that definitely did not bring Blitz any form of comfort while travelling. Right before they got into an argument.

Blitz scoffed and Millie’s eyes softened as she considered him with a stare.

“Where’s Loona?” Moxxie spoke up, having rid himself of the boxes, “Is she slacking off again? Why do we have to do all this work and she gets to play around?”

“Because she’s perfect, Moxxie,” Blitz flicked at Moxxie’s forehead and he waved it aside with a disapproving look, “Maybe you should try to be as perfect as my little Loonie and then we’ll talk about you getting to play around.”

Blitz wiggled his brows as Moxxie’s shoulders rose huffily.

“Also, Octavia wanted to buy some stuff so Loona decided to join her,” Blitz shrugged, “Officially, as her temporary bodyguard. So, actually, she’s still working. When will you be that useful to me, huh, Mox?”

Blitz laughed as Moxxie went red in the face, somehow even more in the glow of the sun around them.

“When will you learn to properly communicate with the man you’re in love with?” Moxxie crossed his arms, with a very annoying self-satisfied look on his dumb face as Blitz glared at him, “At least one thing I’m better at.”

Blitz growled as he pushed himself off the railing and lunged at the freckled bitch for some much deserved ass-whooping. He had been trying to not actively be an asshole to his team anymore. Not since he almost lost them, one of his biggest fears come true in the worst of ways, and realised he would do anything to hold onto them and fix things. But, sometimes, the know-it-all definitely got on his nerves with the way he ran his mouth.

“Blitz,” Millie smiled at him, lips drawn into a tight line, and there was warning in the way she said his name. Moxxie smirked at him, so fucking proud at using his wife as a shield. Blitz sneered at the blond bitch and looked away.

“Go talk to him. We’ll handle things here,” Millie put a hand on his upper arm, gesturing with her head in the direction of the shop.

“You mean you’re going to start fucking,” Millie stared at him with a raised eyebrow, hands on her hips and unimpressed with his attempt to deflect.

“I don’t know what I’m going to say to him,” he tried in a much quieter voice and Millie turned her wide gap-toothed smile at him.

How could you say that—I’m just trying to—you know what, please get out, Blitz, and go do what you need to.

Leave me alone, Blitz.

“You do understand where he’s coming from, don’t you?” Millie bumped into his side, drawing his attention, “He had to adjust to so much and he’s always so worried about the princess whenever she’s away even if she’s here for the most part nowadays. This might be a bit too much for him to come to terms with, you get that right? He hasn’t objected at least, has he?”

“That’s what we argued about,” Blitz sighed, flipping his hair off his forehead irritably, pulling a face at the sweat, “He wants me to do it because he can’t. And look, I do get where he’s coming from but why not let the girl do what she wants, she’s already proved herself capable of handling a lot of shit. And it’s not like I won’t be there. It’s like his main problem with this is that he doesn’t trust me, not with something this important.”

She will not be safe, Blitz.

I will be right there, you think I won’t protect her or any of them with my life?

That means nothing to me! It doesn’t comfort me right now in the least!

Millie looked to the side as he rubbed a palm down his face, and muttered a “Dumbass” under her breath. She turned him around towards the plank dropped to the harbour and started to push him towards it.

“I don’t want to deal with your sulking all throughout the job. Go to your fucking prince.”

“Ex-prince!” Blitz tried to plant his feet into the floorboards but Millie had the strength of a fucking bull and his feet admitted immediately that it was a lost battle, “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you two alone to shove your tongues down each other’s throats. Damn, it’s like you don’t even want me there for the show anymore.”

“Never did, sir!”

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Moxxie, you fucking killjoy.”

Blitz chuckled to himself as Moxxie shouted some stuff back and walked down the plank, leaving the two alone, not at all feeling guilty about it. If they wanted to take care of the rest of their shit in the suffocating heat, then Blitz was no one to complain.

He whistled a tune he had learned from some young sailors a few days back as he locked both arms around his head, tapping at the back of it rhythmically with his fingers. His strides were confident and sure as he made his way down the familiar path to Stolas’ shop. But, as soon as the window display of the small shop came into view, his steps turned more hesitant, his arms hanging loose by his sides. He shut his eyes as he approached the door, preparing himself.

Fuck you, Stolas. I’ll leave you alone for the rest of—rest of—however much time it takes for you to stop being a whiny bitch.

Fuck, he needed to stop letting his tongue work faster than his brain.

Fine! Rest assured it will take as much time as it takes for you to stop being so conceited.

And Stolas needed to stop with his random tantrums or else Blitz would show him conceited. But he’d rather shoot himself in the mouth than actually tell him that.

He took in a deep breath and pushed open the very creaky door. Dammit, hadn’t Blitz just oiled the hinges a few days ago.

“The shop is closed for the day, I’m afraid,” Stolas’ voice called out all choked up and wet and Blitz stood in the doorway, his hands gripping the handle tight, as he watched the other man.

Stolas was sitting behind the counter, his head cradled in both hands, not craning his neck up all birdlike or breaking into a bright smile at the sign of a customer as usual.

No, his hair looked like he had been running his hands through them and tugging at them in frustration as was a habit of his and his shoulders were shaking. Tiny, muffled sobs escaped from the mouth hidden between long fingers. A half finished bouquet of flowers, his cutting scissors, and bits of leaves and stems lay scattered on the counter beside him.

Blitz stood still right where he was for a bit, taking in the sight in front of him as the orange-red-pink tones of the sky seeped in through the door and windows and melded into the colours of the room and Stolas. He felt his own deep frown go slack, his whole body dropping the tense posture he had braced himself with before coming in. He smiled softly, stepping inside and pulling the door close.

“It’s just me, Stols,” he tried to speak in a more subdued tone, not wanting to disturb the serenity of the room.

He felt fondness rise in his chest at the way Stolas snapped his head up, liner all running muddled around his eyes. He wiped furiously at them with his flowing sleeves as soon as his mind seemed to catch up to Blitz’s presence.

Stolas cleared his throat, his undereye skin and cheeks rubbed raw as he fumbled around for the scissors and the vase he was arranging.

“Oh, um, Blitz,” his hands shook as he cut up the stem of another flower, half-heartedly shoving it down the vase and wincing at the sight of it, “I thought you were going to be busy stocking up the ship until dinner.”

“Yeah, planned to,” Blitz stepped forwards, looking around at the pots and more pots of plants that Stolas took such thorough care of, that he was so protective over.

Constantly trying to educate himself more on their specific needs and reading up whenever he planned to grow something new. Being so fucking crushed when a plant shrivelled under his care or a flower withered before its time or failed to even bloom in the first place. The way he would talk to them like he was coaxing a shy, scared puppy or a prickly, clawing cat, even fucking sing to them sometimes. Blitz didn’t understand the attachment, it was all just plants.

Now, however, he felt like he must have been a little blind to not have had this realisation about his lover sooner.

The way Stolas used to busy himself with stars on the ship when he was still looking for an escape and comfort, the way he is so engaged with taking care of something now that his daughter had gone on to do her own thing and he was alone in the shop for most of everyday, alone with his thoughts.

“But?” Stolas tilted his head to the side adorably at the way Blitz had come to a halt in the middle of the shop.

“But?” Blitz blinked and Stolas splayed his fingers out at the door, towards the harbour, the shop getting darker by the second, “Oh, yeah. M&M wanted some alone time.”

Stolas snorted, wiping at his eyes one last time as he slipped off his stool and pushed the vase aside, consciously avoiding looking at it. He bent down behind the counter to bring out a lantern that he placed on it, patting his pants down to look for something to light it up with. Blitz walked to the shelf he had left his lighter on and went upto him, opening up the lantern and lighting the wick.

Stolas blinked rapidly at the sudden brightness right beside him, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints for a moment.

And then he glared at Blitz before he could appreciate how pretty he looked.

“Well?” Stolas lips turned into a frown, his arms crossed tightly around his middle. He sat back down on the stool, pretending to busy himself with something on the floor beside him, the corner of his eyes tight and angry even as the rest looked a mess.

Blitz reached across the counter top with a hand, wiping off some of the black gunk collected at his lashes and Stolas leaned away from it, confused.

Blitz chuckled and put his elbows on the spot in front of him, his chin resting on his interlocked palms, “Well what? I can’t visit your shop anymore? What were you doing before I came in, birdie?”

Stolas stared at him like he had gone insane and considering the short shouting match that had gone on between them before Blitz had left in a rage, he didn’t blame the guy.

“I was supposed to arrange a vase for the sweet noble lady of the mansion near the city square but I don’t think I can concentrate with you occupying my space like this.”

“Oh, yeah? Why not? Thought you liked me in your space,” Blitz grinned as Stolas blushed at his obvious look-over, “Or are you distracted for another reason?”

He really did think that would do the job. He would flirt his way out of the hard feelings between them after a fight and they could move on and discard them. Hopefully along with their clothes too.

But Stolas sighed as he pushed himself up again, threading his fingers through his hair, the dangling star of his earring glinting in the light. He didn’t spare Blitz a single look as he went around the shop, fussing with the plants, pulling off some leaves and petals delicately here and there in a small bowl.

“Yes,” he replied coldly as Blitz swivelled his head following him around and as he walked back up to where he sat, walking past him, “For another reason.”

He made to go through the door that led to the back of the shop.

“I’m sorry, Stolas. For whatever I said.”

Stolas paused with his hand on the knob. His shoulders twitched after a second or two.

He dropped his head and shook it frantically, “You shouldn’t have to—it’s not like you said anything wrong. It’s just I—“

Blitz immediately moved to his side and ran a comforting palm down that stiff back.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry too, Blitz. I didn’t mean to make you think I don’t believe you to do well what you’ve been doing for years. I trust your judgement and your abilities as a captain. It’s just…I no longer hold any power. I don’t know what I’ll do if something does go wrong.”

Stolas’ hands trembled where he gripped onto the bowl and Blitz pulled it out of his grasp and set it gently on the counter before dragging the silver-haired man into a hug.

“Hey, birdie, it’s alright. I get it. Tough to let someone you care about go and know you’ll not be there to protect them every step of the way.”

Stolas wrapped his hands tightly around Blitz’s back, having to bend to do so, and Blitz placed some light kisses down the side of his head when he dropped it onto his shoulder. He wasn’t crying, at least.

“Do you want to come with?” Blitz whispered after a while.

“No, no, I can’t leave the shop—and anyways, Via will be annoyed if I’m too overbearing.”

“Alright,” Blitz pulled him away and cradled the side of his head to look at him, “You trust me, right? With her?”

“I trusted you with both our lives as soon as I met you, darling,” Stolas exhaled a shaky breath and held himself at arm’s length, his eyes determinedly set on Blitz, “I guess I’ll just have to get used to it. Even if I prevent it, she’s just going to find a way to sneak around me at some point. And she is capable of taking care of herself. I’m just a little worried, that’s all.”

He poked a finger right in the middle of Blitz’s chest and Blitz felt his heartbeat slamming against it, “And you constantly offering to self sacrifice as a solution to everything doesn’t really help much with that.”

“It’s okay,” Blitz dragged his fingers down those soft cheeks, thumb rubbing against the corner of the lips until they relaxed, “I’ll try to be back quicker. As fast as I can make it. And no more sacrifice, I’ll just throw them off the ship and to the sharks if we get in trouble.”

Stolas laughed liltingly at the obvious sarcasm and pushed off the hand, slinking out of Blitz’s hold. He snatched the bowl off where Blitz had put it and pushed open the door to the back to disappear through it. Blitz rolled his eyes and followed.

“Did Moxxie say if you have enough of the Calendula cream I made?”

Candle—what. Oh, that thing that Stolas gave them heaps of saying that they can be applied on cuts and injuries and burns to keep them from being infected as well as to soothe the affected skin. And scars.

“What? We’re not having make up sex?”

“Really now, Blitz. I have work to do,” Stolas raised an eyebrow at him and pretended not to notice him as he separated out the contents of the bowl into separate glass containers already filled with previously collected samples, “And I thought an angry fuck might have been more exciting but you apologised so quick. Huh. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Blitz let the door shut behind him, ignoring Stolas’ taunt as heat pooled in his lower belly at the words ‘angry fuck’. He focused on lighting the small area with the lantern hanging beside the door as Stolas lit the one beside him near the pot where he did his experimental shit.

He turned a glower at Stolas as the taller man canted a hip out to the table edge beside them, the cocky look on his face letting Blitz know he was aware of exactly what Blitz was thinking about.

Blitz casually sauntered up to him and cornered him against the long, hopefully sturdy, table pushed up against the wall for Stolas to store his stuff. He put his arms on either side of Stolas’ waist, leaning his weight onto the table, and looked up at his face, grinning at the flush already rising to it.

“That’s because you make me want to be sweet to you,” he whispered lowly, earnestly, and feasted on the way the breathing of man trapped between his arms stuttered at the honest words. Then his whisper turned darker, more promising, “But I can be as mean as you want me to be, birdie.”

Blitz felt a purr rising in his throat as Stolas squirmed at that, his legs pushing together as if to fight the way they wanted to fall open.

“Blitz,” Stolas whispered back, the lights in the room flickering in his eyes, and all Blitz could see was gold liquid, “Via and Loona might be back any moment to get me for dinner.”

Blitz held the taller man’s jaw in one hand, caressing it before pulling him down by it, baring his teeth into a grin before making them catch onto Stolas’ bottom lip. Stolas gasped into it, his excuses flying out the window as he grabbed at Blitz’s face with both hands and drew him in for a proper kiss. Their tongues tangled, in tune with each other by now, and the sounds escaping them both took no time to bounce off the walls in the quiet room. Someone outside would definitely hear them. Hopefully their daughters come in and back out again instantly at that.

Blitz let his lips upturn crookedly in between kisses, tasting some fragranced herbs in Stolas’ mouth as he traced inside it, their bodies pushing together so none of the light travelled in between.

“Is this okay? I’ll back away if you don’t want to right now,” Blitz whispered, nosing along the side of Stolas’ jaw as his eyes popped open.

“Don’t even think about it,” he glared at Blitz and Blitz snorted at the exasperated expression on his face.

Stolas cursed as Blitz grabbed under his thighs and pulled them up, forcing Stolas to balance himself with the help of Blitz’s shoulders.

Blitz was slightly embarrassed by the pained groan he let out at the effort he had to exert to pick Stolas up and drop him on the low table because fuck, he was growing old, that definitely went smoother in his head. He put that thought out of his mind as Stolas blinked down at him at the stuttered, fumbling movements, squeezing at his upper arms admiringly.

“Oh,” he whispered breathily, blushing heavily, his legs falling open on either side of Blitz’s waist.

He bent down with the speed of someone possessed and captured Blitz’s lips again, his fingers massaging lightly at the edges of the scars on his face and Blitz smiled at the action, no longer feeling any trace of that need to push those roving hands away. The touch was what he imagined would feel like when he had watched Stolas whisper gently to one of the plants that morning while touching the withering leaves lightly, encouraging it in a way Blitz definitely didn’t think was extremely cute.

Blitz stroked the thighs on either side of him, digging his thumbs into the muscles, teasingly getting closer to the place in between them, smug at the bulge that was already showing. And at the one growing steadily in his own pants. Stolas whined as Blitz removed his hands from the area altogether, moving them down to knead at his calves instead. He pushed Blitz away, crossing his arms and huffing to the side.

Blitz laughed at him, his mind too giddy, and Stolas turned to glare. He shut his eyes looking extremely pleased as Blitz went to unbutton the shirt hanging on the torso in front of him after untucking them from the waistband. He latched his mouth onto the nearest patch of skin, sucking and trailing kisses at sensitive spots as Stolas sighed over him, holding onto the back of his head, scratching into his scalp gently with his nails.

“This is not hygienic,” Blitz looked up, confused at the low mutter and saw Stolas looking to the side where the pot and his containers of herbs were, the strong smell of garlic, ginger and other shit invading his nostrils and fuck, was Stolas basically a witch because that was hot. He rolled his eyes nonetheless, pretending he wasn’t at all imagining Stolas muttering spells bathed in the moonlight.

He palmed the bulge in front of him without warning and a shiver went through the body against him as he captured Stolas’ attention again. He pulled the laces on the pants deliberately slow, moving away and putting distance between them after he undid them.

“You’re right.”

“Blitz,” Stolas whined high-pitched, trying to pull him back by tugging at his arms, “Don’t make me beg.”

Blitz pulled the man off the table carefully and swiped something kept to the side as he walked backwards until his heels touched the edge of what he knew were craters stacked upon each other in such a way that the one behind him jutted out enough for him to have a comfortable seat. Stolas followed him all dazed and blinked at their new position as Blitz tugged him onto his lap, a complaint already forming on his lips. His dear manure. Ugh, now that’s all Blitz could smell.

“You know I love when you beg.”

Blitz ignored the raise of a prim eyebrow at the cheesy line and held up the glass jar he had picked up in front of those narrowed eyes. A white substance with the consistency of a cream was filled to the brim inside.

“Does your soothing cream have any other uses beside treating injuries, I wonder?”

Stolas flustered at the insinuation and punched Blitz lightly on the shoulder before closing the distance between them and bypassing his searching lips to bite down at his neck instead. Blitz’s eyes rolled back and he pinched them shut not just because of the sting but also the new mild scent of lavender that replaced all others in the room.

Fuck, at some point, he had actually walked away from this.

Stolas was still biting marks into Blitz’s neck and shoulders as he unbuttoned his shirt down. Blitz grabbed onto the hair at his nape and yanked him away before he could get past his chest, a soft, needy whimper escaping into the air. He glared warningly at Stolas as he left the jar beside him and swiftly pushed off the shirt hanging off of Stolas’ frame down over his shoulders, twisting it and trapping his roaming hands with it behind him. Stolas struggled a little, testing the hold, and bit his bottom lips at the stretch of muscles.

“Didn’t you say you’ll beg, birdie?”

“Blitz, I—“

“Blitz?”

Stolas blinked down at him as Blitz pushed his hips up, flourishing in the moan that Stolas let out at the feeling of hardness under him. Blitz let his other palm skim down his back and grip at his waist.

“Blitzy?” Stolas whispered mischievously and Blitz scowled, “Darling? Sweetheart? Love of my—ah—“

Blitz brought the hand at the waist to the front and shoved it past the waistband to wrap it around the engorged member, hoping his blush wasn’t showing through. His doubts clouded his mind for a bit at Stolas’ words and he shook them off, focusing on the way those teeth sucked in the reddened and swollen bottom lip, chewing on it. The pretty man on his lap squirmed, his hands trapped behind him, a red flush spreading down his neck and chest. Blitz pumped him once, lazily.

“You mean that?” Blitz really didn’t mean for that uncertain tone to seep out like that, he really didn’t. He just didn’t want it to be said like a joke and maybe that was a joke his past self would have absolutely loved.

Stolas had his head thrown back at finally having Blitz’s hands where he wanted them, his eyes opening at Blitz question and pupils focusing at a spot on the ceiling, his brain seemingly working despite the glassy look in his eyes. There was a pause between them and Blitz squeezed at the base of his dick so that it hurt a little and Stolas’ reaction was immediate. He bowed forward, burying his face in Blitz’s neck with a whine.

“I mean it. Blitzy, please.”

Blitz brain went fuzzy, and he let his grip on the shirt loosen and Stolas pulled his head back, pupils searching his face as it fell to the floor behind them, his arms free. Blitz took those arms and threw them around himself, pulling Stolas back into another kiss. This one longer, deeper. And Blitz tried to pour out how full his heart was at that moment into it as their tongues met and danced over each other, his hands encircling Stolas’ waist and holding on tightly.

“Fuck,” Blitz frowned heavily as he pulled back, swiping at the drool, “You really make me want to be real fucking good to you, Stols.”

Stolas smiled genuinely at that, unlacing Blitz’s pants with practiced ease even as he maintained eyes contact, diving back in for a kiss as he got his long, cold fingers around Blitz’s cock and Blitz hissed lowly at the contact, his eyelids fluttering. He reclined on the support behind him and tried not to push Stolas off his lap by thrusting up too aggressively as Stolas swiped some of the wetness collecting at the tip and spread it along the length.

He nudged Blitz’s lips up and they kissed yet again, this time much softer than Blitz had ever in his life expected to be kissing someone who had his dick in their hands.

“You helped change so much in my life, darling,” Stolas stood up suddenly from his lap much to his loud annoyance and protesting hands grabbing at the man and he let out a relieved sigh as Stolas dropped to his knees. Blitz spread his legs further to accommodate him, playing with Stolas’ earring and pulling at his earlobe as Stolas moaned softly at that. That piercing had not taken any time at all in becoming one of his favourite things to play with on the pretty man.

“You are good to me,” Stolas had that look in his eyes that meant he was going to test Blitz’s patience very soon, “And I trust you, captain.”

Blitz put an arm over his eyes at his humiliation at the speed at which all the blood in his body seemed to rush south at the provocative way that word was uttered, his dick in Stolas’ hand filling out painfully. And very obviously.

“Oh, is that—“

“Not a word. Put your mouth to better use.”

Stolas squinted at him, quirking his lips up wide. He rested the side of his head on one of Blitz’s thighs, his breath hot on the member. He stuck out his tongue, running it over his own lips playfully, the promise of that wet heat so fucking close and now Stolas had decided he wanted to be a fucking brat about it.

Blitz sighed. He caressed under Stolas’ eyes, watching them go soft.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please. Birdie, Stols, the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes—“

Stolas’ eyes crinkled with joy as he shook Blitz’s hands off and finally, finally, lowered his head and took him in his mouth.

The sound of the door to the front of the shop creaking open came much, much later, after they both had cleaned up with whatever they could find. After Stolas had blushingly shoved the half used jar of his handmade cream into his pocket as he had reluctantly admitted how good it felt and Blitz asked if he wanted to let others experience it as well by selling it for that use. Blitz blushed just as darkly as Stolas suggested he could try and find out how good himself and help spread the word.

They were sat in the dimly lit backroom, one of Stolas’ elbow on the table and his cheek squished on it and Blitz sitting a little away from him, his forearms over his thighs, his thumbs twiddling over one another. Their knees touched and Stolas couldn’t help but smile as Blitz talked about…everything.

Everything he had apparently thought about regarding their future, and this thing between them. And what Stolas had felt so early on, this is how long it took Blitz to finally let himself feel the same. Blitz asked him if he still wanted what he talked about in Lust, all those months ago.

So much had happened since then, and none of it had been as trouble free and easy as his fantasies. Stolas closed his eyes because all of that had happened on the ship between them, all those days thinking life could just be that simple, it all felt like it happened in another life.

And yet, yet when he imagined someone beside him and Octavia, all he could picture was still Blitz and Loona.

Blitz admitted shyly that Stolas had broken all the walls he had spent building around his heart and he had never felt this strongly with anyone else and Stolas smiled at him, reaching out to brush his hair back. His fingers moved over his tattoo, down the contour of his nose and by the corner of his lips to, much more hesitantly, his skull brooch worn over the collar. And Blitz let him, covering his fingers with his own hand, holding it there. Stolas didn’t feel like he had to say anything, nothing had changed for him.

They sat, their fingers moving over and playing with one another’s over the brooch then down to the space between them and ending up tangled over the table, this moment far too delicate despite the fact that they had just fucked in the back of a flower shop. Stolas sighed happily as Blitz shifted forwards and pulled him down into a gentle press of lips.

“Dad! We’re back,” Octavia called out from the front of the shop, a pair of footsteps pounding over the floors, “Why is it so dark in here?”

“Just a minute,” Blitz called back out, rolling his eyes at Stolas and muttering, “They always have the worst timing. I’m trying to have a moment here.”

Stolas giggled, sweeping a few stray strands back again as Blitz sighed at the feel of it. Stolas moved his fingers down to the collar of his shirt and adjusted it to hide away the darkening marks on his neck.

“You’re in there too?” Loona exclaimed miserably, “You two better not be doing what I think you’re doing.”

“Oh, ew, we go back there too, dad!”

Stolas chuckled, his fist covering his mouth, as Blitz rubbed at his forehead at the grumbles still coming in from the front.

Stolas made to get up, not wanting to give their daughters the wrong idea because they had, to be fair, just been innocently talking when they turned up. Blitz dragged him back down for another fleeting press of their mouths, brushing over his knuckles as they pulled back.

“Should we…talk more? With the two of them.”

Stolas smiled, “After. After you bring yourself and our daughters back in one piece from the job.”

Blitz knitted his eyebrows and pouted, mumbling to himself as Stolas slipped his hand away, clasping it behind his back, his chest feeling the lightest it has felt…in maybe forever. Not even the fact that he will be alone in the city for at least two to three weeks from the next morning could overshadow the happiness that was flapping around like a butterfly that had found a whole garden of colourful flowers in full bloom. Or maybe buzzing like a hyperactive bee drunk on spring.

He hummed a tune as he stepped outside to where the two girls were. They had lit up a couple more lanterns around the counter and sat at it, talking among themselves about the stuff they had bought for the upcoming journey.

“Did you have fun?”

“Oh, you two definitely fucked back there,” Loona scrunched her nose and Stolas spluttered as he checked himself over, not noticing anything out of place. He had made sure of that.

Loona snorted at his floundering, “I wasn’t sure but now I definitely am. Really, you two couldn’t wait until you got back to your place?”

Octavia rolled her eyes, rubbing a strand of hair in between two fingers, mumbling something about ‘inconsiderate people’ and how she’ll have to pay someone to scrub out the whole place.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Loonie,” Stolas felt a warm arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him into the side of the man who had come out to stand beside him, “We were talking before you came in. Like adults.”

Blitz puffed his chest, pointing proudly at it with an ungloved thumb, and Loona rolled her eyes.

“Well, if you’re done ‘talking’, should we go to dinner? We met M&M on the ship when we dropped off our stuff there and they are already headed over to your place. We need to sleep and wake up early, too. You definitely need to get used to that again.”

She said the last part to Octavia who smiled at that, a brief look of guilt sent over to Stolas. Stolas remembered earlier that day when he had said “Yes, whatever you want, Starfire” with a tight-lipped smile and no enthusiasm as his daughter had made her request, had asked for his permission even if she didn’t have to. And, as she had left with an unsure look at him, he had pulled Blitz aside and hissed at him furiously to reject her.

He smiled at her genuinely this time, joining his hands with Blitz’s, swinging them gently, “Yes, I assume you must have become used to the lazy ways of the royals all this time. I have asked Blitz to be just as strict with you as the rest of the crew.”

Which was not very much because Blitz would rather die than actually be strict with his team but Stolas still shot him a reassuring nod as Blitz turned to look at him at that, surprised.

Stolas let out a giggle as Blitz walked to Octavia and promised to make her scrub the entire deck as her first job, no special treatment and his daughter struggled and cursed at him from under his arm as he rubbed into her head with his knuckles.

Yes, they sure will need to talk to their daughters before they decide to take things any further. But for now, as Loona put out the extra lights and Stolas grabbed his keys, he looked at the half complete flower bouquet that he had thought earlier didn’t quite fit together or look aesthetically good because he had done it in a fit of temper.

However, he wondered if he had shoved them all together for some reason even he didn’t realise. In the flickering of the single fire, they looked lovely resting and leaning on one another, mismatched and clashing, each standing out with their own character.

Stolas didn’t know why in the span of a few seconds, he had fallen in love with the contrasting colours and meanings behind them. He paused in trying to store them away properly for the night. Maybe he should take this bouquet home instead.

Home. That tiny place, and he never would have guessed just about more than a year ago that he would have more comfort in a bed too small for him to barely fold his limbs into rather than the huge, soft but suffocating bed back at his palace. His daughter was doing fine on her own, much better than he had. And maybe, he could take some pride in the fact that it was him that had some part to play into that. And tomorrow, if a Goetian princess shed off her expensive attire and disguised herself and sailed with a pirate crew because she wanted to be a part of something that was kept away from her and that she would be shamed for as she had found something far more in common with them rather than the noble circles, then nobody had to be none the wiser. Stolas could keep his mouth shut and see how it goes.

“You coming?” Loona called from the doorway, the entire shop in darkness, the lights from outside shining through. Blitz and Octavia were standing just behind Loona, the man turning a helpless but endeared look at him as his daughter talked his ear off.

Stolas nodded at the question as he grabbed the bouquet from the vase and blew the lantern off.

Loona smilingly rolled her eyes as he skipped to the door, not being able to hold back his excited hoot-like giggling. As if a lively child, who had been held back and taught to be proper and poised, finally having the last laugh.