Chapter Text
“And that's how you do the perfect headshot.”
Blitzø lowered his rifle as he wiped his brow.
Fucking finally!
Usually, it took about five minutes top to wipe out a group this size.
Hell, it's why he proposed their “Cult Kill in Five Minutes, or It's Free” promo.
He never thought he would be thankful to Moxxie for vetoing this idea.
Speaking of, where did that twink run off to?
Ah, there he is!
What the fuck was he doing laying on the floor like that?
“It's just a flesh wound, Mox! You've gone through worse!” Blitzø shouted as he racked his previous shell.
Christ on a stick, if he could survive those eccentric genius' entrances, then Mox should have no problem walking off a simple blow from a club.
Though, shit...that guy was pretty big.
Not to mention those eyes...
Eh, what the fuck was he worried about?
They're just a bunch of meatbags. Same as any other meatbags.
Not like he was racist or anything. No sir!
He was sure that he found at least 90% of the humans topside to be fuckable!
A quiet cough from behind broke Blitzø's reverie, causing the imp to turn and face his partner.
His assassin partner, mind you!
Or would temp be the right word?
Shadower?
Fuck buddy?
“Darl...erm, Blitzø. Maybe you should go down and help your little friend. I can....keep watch for any more of those cult members.”
The bird demon behind him fidgeted with his fingers as he tried to look as small as possible.
'Ha! Good luck with that height,' Blitzø thought.
Still, Stolas had been a bit standoffish since he had asked to go on a mission with him. Apparently, the Goetia had something important to tell him just as they were about to leave for this mission.
What? Was he going to propose to him?
Was he getting cold feet now?
Or did he just want to check out his little red ass as he helped out Mox with who knows what?
Probably the latter.
Granted, he did have a nice, little red ass, but still, there was a time and place for this sort of thing.
Like a megachurch.
Or an HOA president's house.
Not in the middle of fuck-knows-where woods wiping out the cult of I-don't-give-a-shit.
Ah well. Might as well, give the birdbrain one last good show before he gave him whatever fucking news he was thinking of.
He gave a little grunt and trotted down to the little twerp on the ground.
He jumped over and ducked under various corpses that he knew were going to be a bitch to try to clean up once all is said and done.
Hey, murder's a dime a dozen up on Earth shockingly enough.
Juuuust don't want to let some corpse rot tip anyone heavenly off.
Then again, if they were topside, wouldn't Heaven already know what they were doing?
I mean, hell, they still didn't have human disguises.
Not that Blitzø had any complaints about getting to flex his real talents as a performer.
Or with getting to see Moxxie fill out those dresses.
He'd totally peg that sub if Mox's wife Millie allowed it.
Well, when she allowed it.
Ah, fuck, he was touching himself again.
What was he doing?
Ah, right.
Moxxie.
Moxxie was no stranger to getting on the receiving end of a blunt instrument. He was sure that his bruises would have their own bruises soon enough with his line of work. But, there was just something about that cult member before he shuffled off this mortal coil.
He was so sure that his beloved Five-seven would take out that big guy as soon as they had him by the throat! He even tried to scare him off with that ”Harder, Daddy“ trick he picked up from Blitzø. That fucker was either kinkier than he thought, or smarter than that cowboy goon he used it on.
Moxxie was just glad that he got a few good shots in before he would go to wherever imps go to when they push up daisies. 'How the hell did that bastard survive a point blank headshot?' he wondered. 'And where's Millie?'
Knowing his beloved wife, she was probably going to town on the bitch who called her ass fat. Only Moxxie got to do that, according to her. Still, watching her get riled up and standing up for herself against that wannabe she-devil.
He could picture it now. She would stop her wonderful rampage and see him curled up on the floor. Then, Millie would run over and check his wounds, inspecting and gently soothing them with her voice and surprisingly delicate hands. Which is when she would go ham on the corpse of that big lad. Tearing it apart, blood spraying, many many parts eviscerated because how dare he lay a finger on her darling husband. And then they would kiss each other, embracing each other, before they get to intertwining their tongues and the pants would fly off and they would roll around in sweat, dirt, and copious amounts of blood with it being a mix of theirs and others, consummating their marriage as they-
”Fuck's sake, Mox! Quit jacking off, and get your ass up! You’re still on the clock!“
Moxxie would have paled if his crimson red skin would have allowed him to. He knew it was a dumb question, but did God hate him?
“Sir, please…” the poor imp wheezed.
“If you have the strength to touch your little button, then you can stand on your own two hooves,” his cantankerous boss sneered at him before grabbing the big guy’s corpse. “Now, come on! We’ve got bodies to burn and money to snort coke out of.”
Well, that answered his question.
Loona thought of herself as a practical hellhound. She got up, she ate her hydra eggs, she went to work, futzed about on her phone while waiting about at the desk. She had a routine. She might have been “wasting her potential” or whatever shit that stupid bitch who ran the pound loved to say while she watched reruns of Hell’s Kitchen , but hey, it ain’t stupid if it worked! Still, she had to put up with her dickhead da- guardian’s actual job. Like, not that she was complaining about finally going topside and bashing some skulls, but son of a bitch, did it have to be so fucking difficult?
“All right, Loona! Get ready!”
Well, it wasn’t always so bad.
She smirked as she prepped a fire spell in her claws as she carefully read the grimoire in her hands. She was actually surprised that she was already this far ahead in it! She didn’t know why Blitzø made a big fucking fuss about it. It was just a matter of intent and seeing all of the little connections in the world and learning how to fuck about with them without tearing the universe a new one.
No big deal.
“Ready!” she called out.
The imp in front of her smiled brightly as she pulled on the bungee strap tied between two trees.
“Three! Two! One!”
Millie released the strap, launching a decapitated head into the air. It arched through the canopy of trees as Loona bored holes into its empty eyes with her own.
‘Trying to cop a feel during our little fight, eh? Well, get an eyeful of this!’
The fireball flew out of her hand and blasted into the flying head, causing it to burst into unholy fire before exploding into a puff of ash and embers. Millie cheered as she jumped up and down while clapping.
“Hell yeah!” the imp cried. “Now, that’s how you use magic, bitch!”
Loona smiled as she snapped the book shut. Sure, Millie was hitched to that limp dick fatty of a husband, but she was still pretty cool in her book. Anyone who could easily tear anyone apart at her size instantly gained her respect.
She shook off some of the ash from her hair as she grabbed her duffel bag. “C’mon. Your husband and Blitzø are probably touching themselves by now,” Loona drawled. She really hoped Apollo wasn’t about to hit her with the gift of prophecy right now.
“Yeah, yeah, gimme a sec! Just gotta get some knives from this here pincushion,” Millie said as she yanked them out of the prone human body. “Shit, did you have to use that much?” Loona asked, slightly wincing with each bone-crunch and fleshy noise from every pull. “Hey!” Millie yelled. “That sunuvabitch thought she could get away with calling my ass fat!” She pointed her knife at Loona. “Only three people can call my ass fat! My brothers, my sister, and my Moxxie!” Loona quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that five, Mills?” Millie shot her a dirty look as she yanked one last knife from her victim’s crotch. “Just sayin’.”
Milie rolled her eyes as she dumped her knives in her own backpack and swung it around to her back. “Welp, think that’s everythin’! Let’s go get that-!”
Loona interrupted the country imp as her face flopped to the floor as she tripped on something blocky, causing Millie to chuckle.
“Looks like yer ‘Mess with Millie’ card just expired, mutt,” she teased
Loona growled as she lifted her head up and swung around to glare at the offending object, only for her to raise an eyebrow in confusion. She crawled around to face it before she tilted her head as she regarded its wrinkled cover.
“Is that a book?”
Stolas knew that this conversation would be inevitable. What goes around comes around as they say, but that didn't mean he didn't dread when it finally knocked his literal and figurative crown off.
The owl prince watched his darli-Blitz showboat while posing with one foot on a fallen human as he fidgeted with the gem weighing down his pocket.
An Asmodean crystal. One of the few things the Sin of Lust himself permitted demons to use to travel topside outside of Halloween.
And quite possibly, the one thing that could either make or break his relationship with that dashing imp.
“Hey, birdbrain! You fisting that birdpuss or what?
Get over here, and I'll show you how to loot a body!”
Stolas chuckled to himself as he stepped out of the brush. Honestly, how did Blitz become such a talented wordsmith?
“Do you have to make everything about masturbation, sir?” that smaller imp said. What was his name? Maurice? Mort?
“Ah, come one, Mox! All this gunpowder is making big Blitzø stiffer than the stick up your ass! Gimme a fucking break!“
Pure poetry.
“Hey, Blitz!” a Wrathian voice drawled out. “Check it out!”
Stolas turned to see that other little imp (Marpel?) and Blitz's hellhound walking out of the woods, the latter holding onto a strange, rectangular shape.
Wait. That shape...
Could that be...?
“Looks like that rich prick's book,” Loona chimed in.
She tossed it over to Blitzø, who snatched it out of the air. The leathery cover was embossed with several branches and leaves, all encircling a pentagram on the top third of it.
He opened the book and started flipping through a couple pages.
Very detailed pages.
Oh wow, he didn't know there were that many muscles in a human ass.
Go figure.
“Ahem, um...Blitzø?”
Blitzø turned to the owl with a quirked eyebrow.
“This one of yours, birdie?” he asked
“Oh, no. Not at all. My grimoire is ...well, cleaner than this one.“
Stolas grabs the book from Blitzø and flips through the pages, his eyebrows raising with each page.
“Fascinating! I've never seen something this detailed outside of Hell,” Stolas mused. “Who wrote this? How old is it?”
He levitates it with his magic and flips through pages back to the front.
“Hmmm...Sarah Marshall...17th century...oh dear, that symbol is horribly drawn...Oh! That looks like-”
His purple aura suddenly flashed green, causing Stolas to yelp and drop the grimoire on top of Moxxie's head.
“Ow!”
“Oh, my dear little one, I am so sorry,” Stolas apologized as he paid more attention to the book on the ground.
With a low hiss, he summoned a cloth to wrap the book up.
“Blitzø,” he muttered. ”I need you to get rid of this book.”
“Wait, what?”
The imp blinked in surprise.
“The fuck do you mean get rid of it?”
Stolas shuddered and tightened his grip on the bundled cloth.
Shit.
The last time Blitzø saw the owl this scared was-
“He can get hurt?”
“If anyone were to utilize the spells in this book,” the owl prince said, “it could mean disaster across all realms.”
“So, what? Can’t you just poof it away with your magic?” Blitzø asked.
“I would, but even just a wisp can turn me into a conduit for whatever is stored in-”
“All right, all right, I get it, Birdie,” the imp interrupted. “Moxxie, grab whatever gasoline these Jonestown wannabes had lying around.”
“You got it, sir,” Moxxie replied before digging through the pile of bodies.
“That necronomicon wouldn’t happen to be fireproof, would it?” Blitzø asked Stolas.
“Oh, no! Not at all! Well, it shouldn’t be…”
“Shouldn’t be?”
“It’s a centuries old book, darl- Blitzø. I doubt any preservation spell would have lasted this long.”
Moxie soon returned with a box of old matches and a glass bottle, prompting Blitzø to pinch the bridge of his nose and growl.
“Moxxie, for the last fucking time, human vodka can barely warm up Satan’s bath water when lit.”
“I know, sir,” Moxie said, smiling wryly. “Thankfully, it seems our cultist friends did a bit of bootlegging.” He yanked off the cork, unleashing an acrid smell into the air.
“Ugh, that stench!” Blitzø gagged.
He took another whiff.
“It’s fantastic!”
Moxie rolled his eyes before snatching the bundle away from Stolas’ hands. After dropping it on the ground, he began to douse it in the moonshine, much to Blitzø’s very vocal dismay.
The taller imp groaned at the loss of his new favorite booze (maybe he could raid those human dickheads later) as Millie eagerly snatched the matchbook from Moxxie’s hand.
With a cackle and a too wide grin, Millie scratched several matches at once alight and tossed it into the bundle’s center.
Before her cackle could grow louder, Stolas cast a domed shield around the now blazing inferno, trapping the smoke as it curled around its ceiling.
“Aw, come on, ya royal pansy!” she cried. “Yer gonna choke out the flames!”
Stolas huffed indignantly. “And risk letting whatever is within to escape through the smoke?”
Millie rolled her eyes as the group watched the smoke billow around the flames.
“Damn, haven’t had a good fire show since our mission at Notre Dame.”
Stolas’ eyes widened.
“Notre- wait! That fire was you?!” he squawked.
Blitzø puffed out his chest with pride and smirked.
“Damn straight! Client was a church goer that wanted revenge against some old nun cunt that got too handsy with her son.”
“Oh. Oh shit. Well, I suppose burning her alive is a worthy punishment.”
“Oh, no, we just drowned her in that baptism fountain after shattering a bottle of that Jesus booze on her wrinkly face.”
“Ah.” Stolas raised his eyebrow. “Then what caused-”
“Turns out Pratchett wasn’t full of shit when he said that demons plus holy ground equals fiery hooves.”
Blitzø hissed at the memory and rubbed one hoof with her hand while everyone stared at him in surprise. He turned to them and glared
“What? I’m dyslexic, not illiterate, assholes.”
“Well,” Moxie interjected, “relieving yourself on her corpse didn’t exactly make things subtle, sir.”
“How the fuck was I supposed to know that the Almighty would turn my piss into gasoline?”
Blitzø rolled his eyes.
“‘Sides, no kiddie diddler is getting any respect from me.”
Stolas giggled.
“Oh, trust me, Blitzø, if Hell hasn’t changed from the sociology books I have read, I doubt even those wretched Vees would touch her with a 39 and a half foot pole.”
“Fuck yeah.”
Blitzø nodded as the fire and smoke slowly died down, prompting the Goetia demon to release the shield.
“Well, there it is,” Stolas declared.
He grabbed a nearby stick and swished through the ashes and crushed any smoldering embers.
“Right!” Stolas turned to the group of imps and hellhound. “I believe that it’s best we don’t talk about this for the next forever.”
“Whatever you say, Feathers,” Blitzø said as Stolas summoned a portal to their office.
“Now!” the imp proclaimed. “Let’s take thirty before the next assignment!”
He then slapped Stolas on the ass, causing the owl to squawk and blush.
“Daddy needs some drumsticks,” Blitzø growled with a smirk.
Millie giggled and entered the portal as Moxxie followed behind, rolling his eyes.
“B-Blitzø! It’s not even the full moon!” Stolas whimpered.
“Yeah? Well, too bad. This imp is ready to raid your palace, you royal bitch~”
Stolas ignored Moxxie’s groans of disgust as his feathers fluffed out into a duster.
Before he said anything else, he felt the Asmodean crystal shift in his pocket.
He paused and gulped.
This could be it.
He could finally rip off this damn Band Aid and free Blitzø from this terrible deal.
Right?
No more obligations. No more coercion.
They could be free.
Stolas gave a wobbly smile and looked down at the imp waggling his eyebrows.
His dashing, excited, sexy imp.
“I-” Stolas started. “Your prince eagerly awaits you, my impish barbarian.”
“Damn fucking right, you perverted prick,” Blitzø rumbled.
Stolas followed the tall imp through the portal with a light heart weighed down by his accursed gem.
He sighed to himself.
‘There’s always the full moon,’ Stolas thought. ‘It just wouldn’t do to spoil the good mood.’
Yes, he would tell his love then.
What could possibly go wrong?