It Was Delightful And Felt So On Brand - Tumblr Posts

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.