Doublejango - A Helluva Mess - Tumblr Blog

"Yeah, gonna have to disagree with you there, bud," Blitz said, suppressing a growl-- a growl that would not have been directed at Lucifer, but that that bitch of a brother he apparently had. "Taking a step back and bumping into someone, that can be your fault. But this kinda fuckin' damage? The brutality and violation of having someone do this to you?

"It's not your fault. That bitch-ass brother of yours chose to do this, and I don't care what went on between you two: it's not your fault. It's not your fault. You didn't deserve this, Lucifer." Although there was heat in his voice--and a strength underneath it--Blitz's hands remained gentle as could be as he continued cleaning the wounds. It wasn't going to be done quickly the way it was in the movies, where a character just dabbed once and then magically everything was all better. This was a horrific wound, and Blitz was going to have to work hard to get it cleaned out and bandaged up--and to get the rest of this fucker clean. Infection probably wasn't a concern for Lucifer, but just because the guy was immortal didn't mean Blitz should disregard his safety, or treat him like trash.

"If your brother is telling you this is your fault? If anyone is? Fuck them for the being the gaslighting fuckfaces they are. Maiming someone like this isn't a fucking accident, and it's never a fucking victim's fault. You didn't say, hey brother, I really wish you would beat the fuck out of me and cut my wings off, right? So it's not your fault. It's not your fault. And shit, even if you had asked for that, it'd still be on him for doing it, cause a request like that ain't safe, sane, or consensual.

"It's not your fault. You don't deserve to be brutalized.

"It's not your fault."

Lucifer winched a little as Blitzø began dabbing at his back , biting his lip against the sting, he was quiet , the only out ward sign of his pain was how hard he was gripping the sheets underneath his hands.

Glowing golden ichor stained the rag creating another source of light in the dim room.

“.. it.. was my brother .. “ he said quietly . “He came down here to see the hotel .. it was my fault.. I shouldn’t have come up to him so fast .. it’s my own fault” he managed to get out eyes darting around seeing things that weren’t there .

“It’s always been my fault”

Invitation to Blitz (Guest of Dishonor)

Hey Blitz, It’s that time of year again! You’re cordially (or should we say “reluctantly”) invited to be the guest of honor at the Annual Anti-Blitz Party on Earth. Yes, you read that right.

The event will be held on 31 October, and it’s going to be an absolute roast fest—literally. Your exes have RSVPed, and they’re ready to, um, "celebrate" all things Blitz. Expect lots of sarcasm, brutal jokes, and a few sharp-tongued jabs.

Body armor is strongly recommended, and maybe even a helmet this year. We don’t want you running away after the first burn!

Time: Whenever you stop avoiding us Location: Earth (The spot where your ego will be publicly fried)

So, bring your thickest skin, your snarky comebacks, and get ready to face the fire. Who knows? You might just survive the night!

Sincerely, Everyone who’s ever been annoyed by you

P.S. There will be cake—but it’s probably poisoned.

And just like that, the entire year of trying to heal since seeing Stolas at Verosika's last party evaporated. The months that had felt like fucking ages, the work he'd been so proud of himself for doing, it all went up in smoke as that same feeling returned--the dark, ugly reminder of what he really was to people, of all he was ever going to be to them.

Blitz was growling by the time he made it to the end of the invitation; anger felt safer than letting this keep on breaking him down. Before he could bite the paper though, a gentle hand touched his. Startled, Blitz blinked and looked up--Demetri had come out of the bedroom. A year ago, he'd been wearing that Better than Blitzo tee, and now here the two of them were, shacked up in a fucking hotel room like it hadn't happened... but only because it had. All of it had. Wordlessly, he handed Demetri the invitation, then went over to get a pot of coffee going.

The incubus wrapped a sheet around himself--loosely, prettily--and settled down onto the couch to read the card. When he tossed it aside and looked at Blitz again, he snuggled down into the corner of the couch, his eyes soft.

"How do you feel about being invited?"

"I don't--fuck, I don't know. Worse?" There were no filters. Of course there weren't any filters. Sulking, really not in the mood to chew his coffee, Blitz went to join him on the couch. He had only planned on sitting next to him, but when Demetri held the sheet open, Blitz sighed and crawled into it with him, letting himself be held. "Guessing you got yours."

"Yeah. There's a whole Fangbook group for it, and it's been a trending tag on HellTok for a few weeks now."

Blitz sighed and closed his eyes. I miss Stolas. Fuck, I miss him so bad. But that ship had sailed, and rightly so. Stolas deserved so much better--and for all Blitz knew, because he sure as fuck hadn't asked, Stolas had had better, probably with this guy right here.

"What the fuck do they want me to do? They're fucking stalkers. Yeah, great, they care, but that's the fucking thing--they think I owe them my caring back. They think I owe them my, what, my whole life? All of my fucking happiness? That they're all entitled to my fucking suffering or some shit, because they want me and I don't want them? Just because you can fucking stalk someone doesn't mean that person owes you shit. And yeah, maybe some of 'em... some of you," he amended, and could feel Demetri wince a bit at the word, but he didn't contradict it, "had a legit fucking grievance. But just wanting someone isn't... it's not reason enough to do all of this. Dennis is one of the bros because he's sulking he didn't get to fuck me when I couldn't have consented even if I wanted to. Half the people there, I never even shared a drink with or flirted with, I just... I'm fucking..." Anger abruptly dissipating, Blitz could hear the tears threatening in his own voice. A year of trying to heal, and what had he accomplished? Closing his eyes, he turned to press his face against Demetri's neck.

"I know, man. I've always known." Demetri sighed and rubbed his chin against Blitz's little head-spines, in between his horns, then closed his eyes and just settled in to hold him. "Can I give you some advice?"

Blitz didn't respond, but the little thwap of his spade splatting against Demetri's leg was answer enough.

Smiling sweetly, since Blitz couldn't see his face right now, he went on. "Don't go. Don't let them break you. They are stalkers. And they are obsessed. It's predatory. People like to feel justified--and there's no cheaper thrill than feeling justified in harassing someone they deem undesirable. It's a human impulse, one that unfortunately is pretty pervasive among our kind. I went... and until Stolas sang, I was hating being there. What you and I shared before--it was worth it," he said softly. "Or at least, I thought it was. I didn't realize how serious the party was going to be, or how many people were buying into the mob-mentality and the hate, or refusing to work on their own healing 'cause they thought, whatever, it's all his fault, and there's nothing I can do. And that's bullshit.

"I like Verosika. She's a lot of fun. But she's also an alcoholic. She's not over you and she never will be at this rate. She hasn't hit her rock bottom yet, and doesn't want to change. She stalks you. She whips this furor up every year... and yeah, some of her points? Are legit. You did fuck you. You've fucked up with a lot of people. But that doesn't mean you need to turn yourself over to them. if you go, these people aren't going to use that as healing. It's not going to help them. Even if you go and laugh and dance on the tables and it feels like everyone is having a good time--babe, I really don't think it's going to help anyone. And I know it's not going to help you, exposing yourself to all of that imagery and violence. If they wanted to heal, they'd be trying by now. They'll just get worked up all over again, and someone's going to get hurt. Physically hurt. Probably not you," he admitted, smiling fondly again, although a little sadly. "But you'll have every right to defend yourself.

"Don't go, Blitz. And don't talk to anyone who does--not unless they come to you, wanting to work on healing whatever rift is between you." Which was something he'd seen Blitz doing with people over recent months, and what had ultimately convinced Demetri that Blitz was safe to be with again. This idiotic imp was trying, he was hearing people, and being genuine with them, and Demetri felt good waking up next to him now, on the rare occasion he got to. "Yeah, it sucks. But you're allowed to live your life. Like you said. You don't owe them your suffering or entitlement. If people want to talk to you, they can reach out, right? I mean--I did," he added, laughing softly, but with a trace of pain in the sound. The last few months had been rocky for them--a lot of conversations that ached, not even because of their history, but just because of who they both were, where they were in their lives... Demetri sighed and nuzzled one of Blitz's horns, silently asking permission. When he felt a little nudge from it, he knew that was a yes, so he raised a hand and wrapped it around one of the horns, stroking in slow, soothing motions.

"Besides. If you go to that party, how are you going to go to the BDSM Club Crawl?"

That made Blitz laugh and sigh, his breath warm against Demetri's chest. After a moment, Blitz came out from the cuddle, moving both of them so he could sit on Demetri's lap and straddle him.

"You really don't think I should go? Let them get their fucking hits in? Cause, listen, just because they're assholes for the stalking and shit, doesn't mean they deserve to be like, completely written off."

"No. But the party is not the right way to engage with them, baby. I think that some people are... a little too impulsive these days," Demetri said, trying to soften his tone, feeling a little guilty for speaking badly of people, but believing it all the same. "Anger feels good. Being part of a club feels good, even if they have to hold on to their anger to stay in it. They like to believe that anyone imperfect is inherently evil and deserves to be harassed and shamed. It's their issue, man. It's not yours. You've been trying to do better with people, I know that. Just because someone decided to stalk you? Doesn't mean any of these people own you. Stalking does not magically give someone the right to own you."

Blitz cupped Demetri's face in both hands, studying his eyes. "You still in love with Stolas?"

Demetri laughed. "Yeah. A little. Or a lot. He's... pretty great. You?"

"Completely."

"You gonna tell him?" Demetri slid a hand up one of Blitz's thighs. It hurt a little whenever the two of them talked about Stolas, but it hurt in a good way, a way that felt right. Demetri considered Stolas his friend, he had ever since meeting him, and he wanted so badly for the idiots to get back together once they were both ready. His own love for Stolas was genuine, but it was something Demetri didn't necessarily need to follow through on--no matter what his heart claimed to want--because he knew he himself wasn't ready for anything serious yet. Besides, seeing two people who were maybe meant to be together? It felt kind of beautiful, kind of precious. He shipped the idiots.

"Yeah," Blitz promised. "Whenever he's ready to talk." Words that had felt easier to say last year--but a year of silence, a year of nothing? Holding onto hope was starting to fucking ache. And deep down, Blitz wasn't sure Stolas would ever... no. Fuck that. Those were thoughts for later. Right now, he had a beautiful guy in his arms, and Demetri needed love just as much as anyone else did.

He took Demetri's hand and looked at it, looked at his wrist. "You guys really never scar, do you?"

"Not on the outside," Demetri whispered, sudden anxiety making his stomach drop. "Blitz, that wasn't your--" but his words went quiet as the imp pressed a tender kiss to the place he'd used to need to keep bandaged. Sudden tears blurred his vision. "I know I can't keep you," he whispered, "but I'm happy to have you right now, Blitz... I'm..."

Blitz hugged him tightly, and when Demetri abruptly clung to him and burst into very quiet tears--quiet because the incubus had learned it was better never to sob aloud, because that was one of his traumas, something he hadn't yet overcome--he just held him, stroked his back, and let him cry it out.

"Come to the club crawl with me," Blitz suggested, when the crying ended.

"You sure? I don't--I'm not trying to get in the middle of--"

Blitz kissed him on the forehead, soft as could be, then kissed his lips, even if they tasted like tears. "I'm sure," he promised. "And you're not. Come with me... and I can show you pictures from my cult."

"Your what?"

"Yeah! I didn't tell you? Some sweet goat started a cult because I put the Mark of the Beast on him and chose him as my companion. I'm actually gonna stop by and check in on them all later today, if you want to--"

This time, it was Blitz who couldn't finish his statement. The incubus was laughing in delight as he practically flung Blitz down, kissing and kissing and kissing him, saying yes in between those kisses, laughing so freely that it left Blitz aching with delight.

Stolas might always be there with the two of them, in different ways and for different reasons, but it felt good, it felt so good, to have rebuilt their friendship, to have this.

Fuck Verosika indeed, and fuck her party. Blitz didn't want to live in their past. He wanted to live in his life--and right now, that life had wonderful company in it, wonderful friends, and family he adored more than anything.

It was a life worth living.

Gaius Valerius Catullus, translated by Matthew Nisinson, from "Burning All Through,"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. FUCK. Everything went so much better than Blitz could have hoped for, and he didn't know what to do with that. This conversation had been terrifying, probably for both of them, but was it--was it really just that easy? Could people just decide to be together and be good together? Decide to be loyal to each other? Was that something he just had never fucking understood until now? Blitz gave his loyalty to his loved ones, but had never once expected it back...

But now, it felt like Stolas was giving it in return. And Stolas was happy about it. He wasn't offended that Blitz wanted equality, he wasn't pissed that Blitz wanted to occupy a little bit of space in his room. He wasn't offended that Blitz had the audacity to ask for any of this. He was--he was happy. Stolas was happy. The laughter, light as spring, the kisses so much sweeter than honey, the words, this all felt like a dream. For a moment, Blitz was terrified of waking--but then he felt the prick of one of Stolas's claws against his skin and let that ground him to reality. This wasn't a dream. This was--

Fuck. Fuck.

This was real. And it was good. It was so good.

Abruptly, Blitz was all over him. He climbed onto Stolas, clambered around him, rubbing his face on him, rubbing his horns, shoving his nose into his feathers and snorting happily, huffing, biting, a little red whirlwind of loving chaos for a moment before, ultimately, he had Stolas pinned on the bed.

Looking down at him, holding his arms, panting a little from that burst of energy, Blitz felt something inside himself--unknot? The word felt like it fit, strange as it was. It was like something inside had been tangled up, tight and painful, all his life, but now? Now, looking down at Stolas, without either of them pretending anything, without either of them giving the other reason to be afraid, now that they knew they were something, that they were choosing something? Some knot eased, and the world grew just a little brighter.

Nothing was perfect. Blitz knew that. There would be mistakes along the way. They were both going to fuck up. How could they not? But together? Hand in fucking hand?

He kissed Stolas for all he was worth, unable to use his words just yet, unable to do anything but burst into the tumultuous joy of a heart finally freed to do what it wanted.

Stolas couldn't believe the words coming out of the imps mouth. He had only dreamt to hear this confession and he was full of emotions he could hardly name. With the joy overwhelming him, Stolas reached out and quickly pulled Blitz into his arms, kissing all over his face and anywhere he could reach. He was happy, deliriously so.

"Oh, my darling! You can have as much room as you wish." He giggled, squeezing Blitz tightly in his arms. "In fact, I will make room in my closet for you. I may need to move some things around." He contemplated.

He still had a smile on his face as Blitz asked his second question but he wanted to show Blitz that he took his concerns seriously. Stolas held Blitz a little further apart so he could look him in the eye. "I do not care if anyone sees us darling. I love you and I will tell the entirety of Hell, Heaven and the human world if need be. I want everyone to know I belong to you. Nothing would please me more."

Stolas cupped Blitz's face and kissed him gently, trying to convey how much he meant to the prince. "Whatever may come our way, we will get through it together hmm?"

Blitz had been uncharacteristically quiet during their flight. Maybe it was the fact that he had murdered someone. Maybe it was the fact that he and Stolas were running away together. Maybe it was the way Stolas portaled them from place to place--impossible not to feel the real weight of what was happening when that was necessary, when it carried the implication of advanced magical tracking, the implication that the Goetia were likely to pull out all the stops looking for them. His weapons were always ready to go, a ridiculous amount of them, so he'd been able to stock up on those--but would they be enough? Was he going to be able to protect Stolas against whatever was to come? Because this man, this stupid, fluffy, tall, brilliant, wonderful man, loved him. And Blitz couldn't let Stolas's life be the price he paid for that love.

It wasn't until Stolas touched his horn that Blitz felt even halfway safe, that he seemed to realize the traveling was over and they were here. It gave him a strange sense of deja vu, walking into a cabin with Stolas, even though they'd never done anything like this before. It might even be romantic, if only... well. If only.

"Yeah," he said--then cleared his throat and tried again, since that had been too quiet. "Yeah, I can do a human disguise. It's not, uh. You know. Nice or anything. But it works. I usually don't... use it... but... I can." Focus. Snap out of it. He suppressed a shiver, dropping his duffel on the couch.

"You mind if I go shower? I need to..." Not smell like the man I don't remember murdering, not have his blood all over me. "Need to not track his," can't say his name, can you, Blitzo? Fuck. "Not track Vepar's blood all over the place."

Stolas breathed a sigh of relief when Blitz finally understood what he was saying. They were in this together, whatever it was, whatever the outcome.

They were quick and efficient, Stolas wanted to spend time looking around Blitz's apartment but it was spent quickly putting his belongings into the pocket dimension. He did glance the photos on the walls that had his face crossed out, a discussion for another day. It broke his heart to see the way that Blitz saw himself, they would have to work on that as well.

Stolas knew it wasn't safe in hell, they would be too easily accessible even in the most far reaches. It only made sense for them to go to the human world, where far less demons would have access to them. Stolas knew of a cabin deep in the wilderness, surrounded by trees and mountains that would be a great hideout for them. He had used it many times when he had to go to the human world to study the skies for prolonged periods. The couple who owned the cabin were old and could no longer make the trip to the isolated home.

Stolas took Blitz's hand and portaled them to a few different locations before landing at the cabin. He didn't want them to be traced if anyone tried, the trail would have been impossible to track by the time they got there.

Stolas found the hidden key under a rock and opened the door. It was rather lavish for being so isolated, they would have to venture into the closest town to stock up on supplies but he hoped there would be enough in the cabinets for now.

"Make yourself at home darling." Stolas ran a comforting hand down one of Blitz's horns before heading into the bedroom, opening the pocket dimension and taking out a few of their belongings, just in case they needed to escape quickly.

"Have you been able to conjure a human disguise yet Blitzy? If not, I can help this time since I have the grimoire with me."

for @helluvasins continued from here, because it was too damn precious not to reply to. but no worries if you don't want to make it into a thread, of course!

-

Blitz had gotten a good laugh out of sending that cherub a kind note, even though he knew he shouldn't laugh. It really shouldn't be funny--but shit, whenever cherubs were angsty? The imp couldn't help but grin. Yes, Maximus Decimus Meridius, he was entertained. It was nice to know that even angels--if cherubs really counted as angels--were at least emotionally complex enough to get upset...

Although that thought wiped the smile off his face. Yeah, actually, fuck. Fuck. It really wasn't funny that they could be upset. And what if Cletus did ever feel alone down here? Angel meat was delicious--not that Blitz made a habit of trying it, but when he'd gotten an invitation to a cookout over in Cannibal Town, of course he'd gone. It was really just doing one's duty, to help with the cleanup post that whole hotel fiasco. But, angel meat was delicious and there had to be a crap ton of demons in Hell who would love to sprinkle some fucking rosemary on that cherub and slow roast him over a nice lava lake, so... shit. Shit.

"Blitz?" Loona asked, when her adoptive father got up and started pacing in their living room. "Is everything like... okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Loonie, I just--you know, those fucking cherubs got kicked out of Heaven because of us, and maybe it was all funny shit at the time, nice to see them getting their comeuppance for the shit they pulled, but... I kind of feel responsible."

Loona turned her ears back, expression softening, and shook her head. "You're not, dad. They decided to achieve their goals by any means necessary."

"Yeah. Yeah, the little fartjars did get pretty fuckin violent, but... You good for the evening?" He grabbed his coat and turned to look at her. "I just--now that I know he's actually fucking stuck down here, I want to go see if Cletus is okay."

"Do you... know where he is?"

"Oh yeah, I paid a homeless guy to stalk him all day."

Loona somehow managed not to roll her eyes. "I'll be fine. Have fun with... whatever you're doing." She grunted when he hugged her, but didn't try to pull away.

So, before long, Blitz was in the area Cletus had last been spotted, hunting around for the little fucker. "I'll just see him, smile, wave, then go home. Cause everything's gonna be real fuckin' hunky-dory with that little fucker, I bet. He's a cherub. Why wouldn't everything be fine?"

Blissfully unaware that he was talking to himself out loud, Blitz tipped his sunglasses up and scoured the scene.