The full moon hung heavy in the sky.
Alone in an abandoned cabin near the town’s lake, buried deep in the woods, a man knelt on the wooden floor to finish drawing a sigil in chalk. He groaned at the ache in his knees but paid it little attention; his eyes were entirely focused on the final remaining piece that would supposedly activate the summoning spell.
A slice of cake was a weird fucking way to summon a demon if you asked Blitzø, but what did he know.
All Blitzø knew was that he hungered for revenge, and absurdly enough, this seemed like the most feasible way of getting it. He didn’t have money, he was shit out of luck, and what few connections he’d once had up his sleeve had already been burned through. If he really wanted to take out his asshole of a father without getting caught, he’d have to use a more… unorthodox method.
Taking a deep breath, Blitzø placed the plate in the center of the sigil that spelled out Stolas around its intricate loops and curves. The name alone sounded pretentious, and apparently this Stolas was a prince, of all things. If he were honest, Blitzø was terrified at the idea of this whole thing actually working. Still, he tried to maintain his composure, if only to have the brain capacity to deal with what would likely be the demon equivalent of a high society rich prick.
That, or the thing would simply eat him alive.
Before Blitzø could continue overthinking, a strange prickling sensation gave way in the cabin, followed by the sight of a glimmering portal literally ripping apart the space in front of him. Or at least he assumed it was a portal, but his puny mortal mind could barely even make sense of what he was seeing.
A tall — extremely tall, holy fuck — figure made its way out of the portal, stepping through one long leg after the other. It had a white heart-shaped face set in deep blue-grey fathers, legs and arms going black at the tips as if its body could barely contain the infernal energy that thrummed from within.
Stolas, Prince of the Ars Goetia, took in the human specimen before him in return. Deep brown eyes partially hidden by lengthy hair, extensively scarred but no less gorgeous bronze skin, a shorter stature but delectably toned body…
“Why hello there,” Stolas purred as he bowed. “To what do I owe the pleasure for such a dashing fellow?”
Blitzø stood there in awe, gulping at the combination of fear and attraction that rippled down his spine at that voice. Oh, he was so fucked.
But instead of showing respect to this otherworldly being like he imagined he was supposed to, the first thing he blurted out was, “What the fuck is a demon doing with a slutty little romper in his closet?”
He winced, nails digging into his palms and heart stuttering at his slip-up. Well, at least death by hot owl bitch wasn’t the worst way to go.
Much to his surprise, however, the demon let out a trilling little giggle, mirth clear on his face despite the lack of pupils. “You sure know how to charm a man,” he said. “What shall I call you, dear?”
Face flushing even more than before, Blitzø kept his gaze on those mesmerizing eyes as he slowly let his breathing return to normal. “Blitzø, my name is Blitzø. The O is silent.” It was slightly humiliating just how quickly he scrambled to answer. “Um, your highness,” he tacked on belatedly, not wanting to test his limits again. He did his best to fix his posture, brushing some hair out of his face and puffing his chest out in mock confidence.
“Oh, enough with the silly pleasantries,” the demon replied, waving a hand in dismissal. “You may call me Stolas.”
Stolas moved forward, bringing with him a myriad of scents. Blitzø was no expert on fragrances, but it definitely smelled like the kind of shit you’d find in the woods. It smelled familiar. The thought that a real life demon could fit in with a piece of shit like him out here in bumfuck nowhere made him feel a little lightheaded.
Rather than reaching forward and physically ripping out Blitzø’s heart like he may have been fantasizing about, the owl bent over to retrieve his treat from the summoning circle. “How delightful! Did you choose this cake on purpose? It’s quite fitting, though I don’t eat squirrels quite as often as Earth owls do. I prefer rats, myself.”
“Yep, sure did,” Blitzø answered blankly. He’d picked the cheapest single-layer sheet cake from the grocery store clearance rack, and it just so happened to have a stupid little nature walk design iced onto it. He sure as shit wasn’t going to admit that, though.
What was he supposed to do with a lanky humanoid owl eating cake in his abandoned-cabin-turned-home? When was the right time to bring up the whole revenge thing? He may have found that dusty old book, but there was no manual for the part after the summoning.
“So, uh, Stolas,” Blitzø started, watching while said demon found a ledge to sit on. He looked ridiculous, long legs bent all the way up in front of him, yet he still crossed them all proper-like. “I did bring you here for a reason.”
“Of course, darling. But there’s no rush! It’s not often that I get summoned, so I’d like to bask in the Earthen air for a while, if you’re amenable.”
“If I’m fucking amen— yeah, sure, whatever that means. As long as you’ll help me at some point you can do whatever gets your dick hard, hell if I care.”
That garnered a squawk, Stolas’ feathers ruffling up all big as he choked on the piece of cake he’d just taken into his beak.
Now there was a reaction. Blitzø grinned; he could work with that.
Meandering over, deliberately coy, he placed a hand at the back of that soft feathery head under the disguise of a soothing gesture. A chill worked its way through the bird at the touch, and Blitzø was close enough to hear his breath hitch. It was a heady feeling, to have this effect on some otherworldly being that could probably snap his neck with the flick of a wrist.
Blitzø had never pegged himself as a monsterfucker but, well, he’d tried weirder shit.
His hand was knocked away by the sudden movement of Stolas rising, fork clattering to the floor in his hurry. Those white face feathers had a gorgeous flush showing through them as he adjusted his clothing, thighs shifting against each other.
“I—I just need some fresh air,” he stammered. “I’ll be back momentarily!”
With the cabin’s back door shut closed behind his retreating form, Blitzø was left alone to process everything that happened in those short few moments.
He swooped on over to his tatty mattress in the far corner of the open space and plopped down to sit at the edge, head in his hands.
Grimacing at the headache that was quickly forming, he ran a hand through his hair and let out a weary sigh. He should really cut his hair soon, but he liked when it reached his shoulders; it was just a bitch to take care of out here. Having to bike for ages just to get to the rest of civilization — if a small strip of shitty, rundown shops even counted as civilization — was a pain in the ass when he needed fresh groceries or body care shit, but it was worth it to remain off the map.
It was why he tried his best to stick to nonperishables that he could stock up on and had even learned how to grow his own vegetables, how to hunt and take care of himself. He definitely wasn’t perfect at any of it, especially not at first, but there was nobody fucking else who was going to help him.
Wasn’t there something else he was supposed to be thinking about…?
Right, the demonic owl that was now probably jacking off outside.
Blitzø realized he didn’t know what the guy would demand in return for completing his request. For some stupid reason he had gone into this assuming the cake was enough, but this was a demon for fuck’s sake — of course he’d want more. Well, Blitzø didn’t know if he still had a soul, but Stolas was free to take it if that’s what he wanted. At least then it would be worth something.
★⛧★
“Oh my stars, what is happening,” Stolas muttered under his breath. He stood outside the cabin, leaning against the door with a hand to his racing heart.
He’d read about this feeling, had tried to imitate it on his own, but his foolish mimicry paled in comparison to the real thing. And it had only been a comforting gesture, not even meant to illicit such a response! Oh, he was so daft.
Seeking to distract himself and calm down enough to return to that fine gentleman, Stolas took a moment to look around at his surroundings properly now. The cabin was nestled among acres and acres of trees as far as the eye could see, and under the dazzling moonlight he could spot fireflies flitting about over the nearby lake. He bet the area was populated by dragonflies during the day, waterhole that it was.
The variety of Earth flora had Stolas enthralled within seconds. Even with his preternatural eyes it was a tad too dark to do any proper observational research, but he couldn’t help his curiosity as he made his way down the steps of the small porch and over to the closest cluster of shrubbery. Crouching down, he reached a hand out to feel the leaves, mentally taking note of any differences in texture to those of hellplants.
He had already been disciplined for wasting time on silly interests in the past, but his father had grown tired of berating him once it was made clear just how long it would take to produce a precautionary heir. Bedding his wife was certainly not like it sounded in his novels, though to be fair his novels were often tailored to a more… peculiar taste. It also probably didn’t help that Stella had a tendency to shout and throw things before ever entertaining the simplicity of talking things out.
In an attempt to make up for his failings in bed, Stolas had thrown himself into his other duties, staying on top of everything to a remarkable degree. His father couldn’t very well complain about that, even if his wife could.
Nonetheless, Stolas greatly enjoyed spending his free time in the palace gardens. Tending to his plants felt like taking care of children in its own right, and he had always been fascinated by their practical uses. But there was something about the unruliness of plants in their natural habitat, without the intervention of demonkind — or humankind, in this case — that drew him in like nothing else.
Perhaps he yearned to share their freedom.
★⛧★
Stolas threw open the door with gusto, causing Blitzø to pause the pacing that he had taken up. It was probably for the best; any more pacing and he’d literally wear a hole into the floor with how old that shit was.
The bird seemed to have shrunk himself down slightly so that he didn’t have to hunch over in the cabin anymore. Personally Blitzø would want to climb him like a tree either way, but he guessed it was more comfortable to exist that way when you were a giant fucking owl demon.
“There are so many plants around here!” he said, apropos of nothing.
Blitzø just looked at him. “I mean, yeah, we’re kind of in the middle of a forest.”
“But the differences and similarities to hellplants are so fascinating! The ferns out there were much softer, though I do wonder if certain earthplants have their own assortment of spiky defenses…”
Stolas prattled on and on about his ferns and flowers, and all Blitzø could do was take in how good excitement looked on him. Who knew a demon could be such a nerd? He didn’t know how to feel about finding it endearing, but the genuine joy Stolas seemed to pull from the smallest things had lit a fire within Blitzø.
Maybe he could learn a thing or two.
Absentmindedly going over to towel at one of the dishes he had left out to dry before all of this, Blitzø kept his eyes on Stolas’ big, dramatic gestures.
Suddenly, though, the owl paused at his movements and interrupted himself with, “Oh, I do apologize. I know I can be a bit… much.”
The way he shrunk in on himself made Blitzø want to maim someone. “Who the fuck told you that?” he asked through clenched teeth, suddenly pissed.
“No one,” Stolas said, too rushed to be true. “Just a silly habit I can’t seem to shake, going on about dull subjects when in the presence of company.” He gave a half-hearted laugh, the avoidance of eye contact noticeable even with those voids for eyes.
Blitzø took a breath to stay calm and then stared the bird down until he was sure he had his full, undivided attention. “Fuck anyone who says you’re too much. They’re wrong, okay? My da— people have said the same shit about me, but it’s not our fucking fault what we’re like, right?”
He got a tentative nod in reply, and soon enough Stolas was starting his spiel back up again.
Blitzø wasn’t a good person, not by any kind of standards that anyone could possibly set, and he blamed himself for a whole lot of shit. But he took it personally when someone else was fed bullshit about being too much or not enough or both all at once, because who the fuck had the right to decide that? All Stolas had done was ramble about plants and that was enough for someone to tell him off? Fuck that noise.
They talked for damn near four hours, though Blitzø couldn’t tell anyone a thing about how they’d managed that. Horse facts, star shit, childhood dreams… Blitzø didn’t go into detail on any of the shittier parts of his life, but he suspected that Stolas avoided his own landmines in the same way.
He’d learned that Stolas had a decent sense of humor, too, if the way the demon laughed at his crude remarks was anything to go by. It was… oddly easy to shoot the shit with him. Make no mistake, the fact that he was obligated to be here for the summoning had never left the back his mind, but the conversation didn’t feel forced. And Stolas seemed to relax more and more as the minutes ticked by, less of that weird, self-conscious scrounging for the right thing to say and more of simply letting himself be free with his words. For an uptight royal, he sure had a wide vocabulary of swears and a head full of insane thoughts.
He was alright, Blitzø decided. But he was not getting attached, fuck you very much.
★⛧★
After a natural lapse in their chatting, Stolas’ eyes must have drifted to the window as he gasped in surprise.
“Oh lords, it’s twilight!” he exclaimed.
“The— the fucking sparkly vampires? Where?”
“No, dear,” Stolas chuckled. “The time of day just before sunrise, where the sky is lit despite the sun still hiding away.” His grin faded ever so minutely before he took a deep breath. “I suppose we should get down to business, as one would say. What did you wish to ask of me with this summoning?”
Blitzø tensed a little at the question; he didn’t know whether it was due to the nature of the request that he had to find the balls to spit out, or the fact that it meant his time with the demon would come to an end soon. He didn’t want to know.
His guts were churning.
“I— fuck,” he said. Great start, shithead. “I need you to kill my greedy bastard of a father. I’ve tried before, but it landed me in prison and I can’t fucking go back there. Just— just do whatever you need to, okay? I’ll do anything you want, I promise, I—“
“Blitzø,” Stolas cut in with a gentle smile, a hand reaching out to rest on his arm. “I can do it.”
The man’s shoulders sagged in relief at the easy acceptance. He barked out a frenzied laugh, shaking his head at himself. “I keep forgetting you’re from fucking Hell. Of course you’d have no issue with murder.”
The grip on Blitzø’s arm tightened as Stolas frowned. “I do have standards, darling. It’s just that I know a thing or two about having a dreadful excuse of a father.”
★⛧★
Apparently all Stolas needed was Cash’s location. It seemed too good to be true, given how stressed Blitzø had been over the possibility of needing an object his father had owned or some shit. Working with a demon was way different than in the movies, or maybe it was just this one.
None of the movie demons were hot like Stolas, either, to be fair.
Cracking his freaky bird neck, Stolas chittered to himself in preparation as he internalized the information on Cash’s whereabouts so he could cast the portal accurately.
“Now, would you prefer your father’s death to be quick and easy, or do you want to give him a bit of fright before his demise?” the owl asked with a wicked sense of mischief, beak seeming sharper than ever as he spoke.
A full-body shiver ran through Blitzø. Was it against demon law to fuck the demon you were making a deal with? He should’ve looked that shit up beforehand.
“Scare the shit out of him, Stols. The fucker deserves it, and I want to watch.”
Tiny white pupils appeared in those glowing red eyes at the response, followed by his lids growing heavy and that devilish grin returning, just as piercing as his gaze.
“Can do,” he said. “Well then! On to the job…”
With the simple spread of Stolas’ hands, another portal opened directly to a place that Blitzø had never wanted to see again. He’d been back a couple times since getting kicked out — once to plot out his original attempt on his father’s life, and again to set the fire that was supposed to kill him — but it still made him instinctively cringe away.
The charred lands of his hometown where the circus had once settled looked even more dismal than before. Debris from old tents and props still remained, no one deeming the area important enough to do anything with it. Apart from scattered patches of dried-out grass across the flat, sandy ground, the only living thing in sight was a cluster of yarrow.
Blitzø had planted it back when his mama first passed from illness; it was honestly a wonder that it was still thriving with no one left to take care of it. Maybe his tears from that day had carried enough remorse to keep it going in perpetuum. It was such a small gesture and would never, ever fucking compare to his mama’s life, but she deserved something to be remembered by. Cash hadn’t even bothered paying for a gravestone or proper burial — he’d had her cheaply cremated and then sold the fucking ashes to some morbid freak for the money.
What his mother had ever seen in the man, he’d never know.
Stolas freed Blitzø from his recycled thoughts by offering a hand back through the portal towards him. Doing his best to mentally prepare himself, Blitzø took the leap.
The sun was scorching hot over the vast open land, and he could tell he’d be sweating all the way down to his balls in no time. Sure was fucking fitting to face his father in that state, the same way he used to sweat in fear at what punishments were in store for his mistakes. He’d outgrown that fear by his late teenage years and had built up a cold wall of stone lined with barbed wire in its place, but being back here always made him feel like a kid again.
To their right was the small, dilapidated building that Blitzø knew his father had been living out of in recent years. It was once used as a combination of janitorial storage space and the office for their ticket booth, where he himself had worked on and off after failing to enthuse with his circus act. Honestly, it was one of the better odd jobs Cash had made him do. Certainly better than being whored out.
He marched towards the structure, dragging Stolas along with their hands still held tight.
“Hey, dickhead!” Blitzø shouted, finally letting go to cup his hands around his mouth instead. “Get your shitstained ass out here!”
Movement could be seen from the dirty window where a figure looked through the shades. The wait felt eternal for Cash to make his way out of the building, taking his time as if he had any ground left to stand on.
Wrinkles of a life spent grimacing were etched into his tanned face, framed by a scraggly goatee and heavily balding head. The patched-up clothing on his body did nothing to hide the grime that time with no running water had built up, and he had more than the beginnings of a hunchback.
Blitzø liked to think he got his looks from his mama, but he knew that plenty of Cash’s poison had seeped into his body anyway, eroding away at the edges to expose his true core — nothing but tar and soot, destructive and defective.
His father’s presence had always felt so powerful and threatening, but from where Blitzø stood now, he was just a frail, old man who would live out the last few minutes of his worthless little life in misery like he deserved.
He gave Blitzø a withering stare nonetheless.
“What, too chickenshit to have another go at me?” Cash taunted, his wide nose flaring. “Come to just talk it out so you don’t end up back in the slammer where you belong?”
“You should be the one rotting in prison, asshole,” Blitzø said, voice gravelly. “But I don’t give a fuck about letting you live to stew in your regret, because you don’t have enough of a heart to even feel regret. So I’m gonna let my birdie here fuck you up instead, and if he sees you in Hell later on, well… better sleep with one eye open, bitch.”
Finally seeming to notice the looming figure of Stolas behind him, Cash choked on whatever he was about to respond with and staggered back, arms uselessly going out to the sides for balance. Blitzø felt physically ill at the complicated emotions roiling deep inside his body, yet he couldn’t help but take joy in the sight. What sweet fucking karma to see him scared and helpless for once.
“Watch closely, darling,” Stolas said as he stepped ahead.
The demon’s body blurred black at the edges like his darkened limbs were finally letting the full scope of his power escape. Some areas were tinged red like fresh blood, never fully staying still, a constant flame of ruffling feathers fueled by an energy that Blitzø had no hopes of comprehending.
Soon he grew in size to become a great hulking beast, letting out a caw that under any other circumstances probably would’ve been funny; but here and now, Blitzø watching him descend on Cash in valiant fury, the thousands of screams that came with it were only awe-inspiring and terrifying.
“What the hell is that fucking—“ Cash shrieked. “Blitzo, call this fucking thing off, boy!”
Blitzø just watched on in stony silence, arms crossed and brow furrowed as sweat dripped down his temple.
“C’mon, kid,” his father said, laughing half-hysterically. “Give your old man a break, huh? You know how tough it is to live like this? Busted my ass to give you a home and this is how you treat me? Ha! Bet if this fucking monster knew all you’ve done it’d turn on you in a heartbeat.”
It was beyond difficult to not give in to Cash’s jeers, and the mixture of truths and blatant lies were fucking with his head a little. The bastard knew what he was doing.
“You said something about a heartbeat?” Stolas asked in that screechy, spine-chilling voice of many.
Not giving him a chance to answer, he punched a fist through Cash’s mortal body like it was nothing and then ripped it back out.
In his large, distorted hand was a human heart, still beating in an attempt to keep up the facade of life. Before him, Cash’s eyes and mouth were as wide as the gaping hole in his chest, choking on nothing as he slowly fell to his knees like he was suspended in time.
Stolas sneered at the sight and clenched his talons to explode the little heart into smithereens, uncaring as bits of flesh spattered about him.
Blitzø was frozen, some strange amalgamation of gratification and attraction and horror filling him as the scene unfolded.
He got what he’d wanted, and Stolas delivering it as a big eldritch nightmare was a sight to behold, but a tiny part of him asked what he had just done.
After a rather anticlimactic return to the cabin, quiet in the aftermath of what had happened, Blitzø took a moment to splash his face with water. Stolas stood off to the side, seemingly content to wait.
Taking longer than he probably should have, he felt like he could breathe a little better with the chill of it bringing him back to reality. He’d have to push the self-reflection bullshit to later, when he didn’t have a demon to entertain.
Blitzø flipped his body around to lean back against the kitchen counter, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. “So, what exactly do you want as, uh, payment for this whole shtick? Need me to find an animal to sacrifice?”
“Well… I can think of one thing as payment, if you’re open to the idea of passionate fornication.”
Blitzø stared at Stolas with a glint of humor in his eye. “You know you can just say fucking, right?”
His feathers puffed up again at that. God, the bird must’ve been so touch-starved that even the mention of fucking got him horny. It had admittedly been a hot minute since Blitzø himself had gotten his dick wet (or had someone else wet his hole), so although he wouldn’t confess to it, he was eager to cross demon-fucking off his list. It may have been an extremely new entry, but it couldn’t hurt to try it right away; when the fuck would he get another chance?
Distantly, Blitzø wondered what Stolas had under his distracting little romper. Was it some kind of weird demon shit, like a tentadick? Or a giant kaiju cock? Or maybe a pussy with magical gripping action… Whatever it was, he wanted it bad.
He came back to himself as Stolas stumbled over an apology, acting all shy as if he wasn’t the one who proposed sex as payment. Blitzø was far from a stranger to sex, but he had a feeling that this would ruin him for any future experiences.
“Yeah, sure, we can fornicate if you want,” he teased, putting on a fancy posh accent for the fancy posh word. “Get your sexy ass over here.”
Stolas let himself be dragged over, but with a pleasantly surprised voice he asked, “You think I’m sexy?”
“Uh, yeah, do you not fucking see yourself? Oh shit, wait, is that like a thing? I thought that was vampires, but maybe demons can’t see themselves in mirrors either…”
Most of the trepidation vanished with Stolas’ tittering. “No, dear, I can see myself just fine. I’ve just… never had anyone want me in this way.”
Blitzø bodily tossed the bird onto his mattress low on the floor, thriving on the squawk that came with it and the way his body looked all disheveled laid out like that.
“Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, birdie, but I’ll show you passionate.”
Kneeling down at the end of the mattress, his hands raked up those feathery thighs and to the edges of his tiny romper. Once he was close enough, Blitzø hooked a hand in one side of the shorts and pulled them over to get a look at what he’d be messing with that night.
He was met with a leaking cunt, and fuck did that do it for him.
“Can’t wait to taste your birdpuss,” he said, nearly drunk on the idea of the incoming pleasure.
“It’s—“ Stolas gasped, cutting himself off as Blitzø ran a curious finger down his slit. “It’s a cloaca, actually. Most avians have one, even demons.”
“Mhmm, a birdpuss,” Blitzø said distractedly.
He found the entrance nestled within soft folds and pushed a single finger in, trying to get a feel for what it could take. It felt and looked almost exactly like a pussy, but Blitzø would take Stolas’ word that it was something else. He wondered if that meant there were any differences he hadn’t seen yet, because he sure was fucking excited to find out.
Adding a second finger, chipped nails disappearing into wet heat again, Blitzø reveled in how damn reactive Stolas was. All he was doing was fingering the guy, and yet there were already whimpers and gasps and moans filling the cabin, not to mention the intense shivers that each touch and caress caused.
He leaned down curiously, angling to get a sniff because why the fuck not, but the sight of that cunt visibly pulsating at the pause in his movements laid his original plan of taking his time to rest. Blitzø needed to taste it immediately. Their clothes were merely an obstacle, and they got torn off with little consideration.
Stolas nearly suffocated him with how hard he squeezed his thighs around Blitzø’s head once he lowered himself (which, honestly, would’ve been another incredible way to go). There was no hesitance in the way Blitzø licked a stripe up his slit, somehow getting even harder at how the supple flesh moved with his tongue. It was drenched with slick, and so worth the taste.
A human tongue felt wildly incompetent next to a literal demon, but Stolas’ loud feedback continued without stopping so Blitzø forced himself to stop worrying. The bird deserved a good tongue-fucking for what he had accomplished.
His feathers were mostly soft against Blitzø’s face, but some must’ve gotten bent the wrong way with Stolas’ thrashing as they felt a little pricklier than the rest. The mixture of sensations resulted in a weird fucking experience but in a good way, and one that he already wished he could repeat.
After perhaps the most violent jerk and loudest squawk yet, Blitzø nearly pulled away at the unexpected torrent of fluid that came rushing from within that wet, hot cunt, but he was nothing if not adaptable. Honestly, it was hot as fuck that Stolas could come like that even without a dick. Must’ve been a bird thing.
Lapping at his cum like a fucking dog, Blitzø held down feathery hips as Stolas spasmed through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He moved to actually pull away this time after getting as much as he could, but Stolas tightened his thighs again to keep him there.
“C’mon birdie, we haven’t even gotten to the main course yet,” he teased. “Don’t you want me to show you what a real fucking is?”
Between hot and heavy breaths, Stolas gasped out, “O-oh, yes! Please fuck me! Ram that little human cock of yours deep into my guts!”
“Jesus Christ— okay, first of all, fuck you! This package is not small, bitch, it’s not my fault you’re fucking ten feet tall. Second of all, remind me to never ask you to beg.”
Did they have demons reading Handmaiden type shit like it was the Sunday paper down in Hell? That would make sense, actually…
Crawling forward to line himself up, Blitzø couldn’t help but feel a little crazy at the fact that he was about to stick his dick in feathers. It sounded like a kink gone wrong when he thought about it like that, but apparently he was not immune to feathery demon pussy.
He rubbed his cockhead up against the folds, smearing it in slick for an easier glide. Hell, he didn’t even need lube for this shit; if only his own hole had the same ability.
Blitzø pushed forward, cock sliding in relatively easily, but Stolas screeched at the feeling, talons ripping into the mattress.
“You better fix that shit later, bitch. This is the only bed I have.”
Stolas nodded and attempted to answer yes, yes, yes, but he was too far gone to really be coherent. By the time Blitzø was fully sheathed inside him, Stolas had those powerful thighs wrapped around him once again. All he could do was grind deep where he already was, unable to move much more with that unyielding force.
“Can you— you gotta let go a little if you want me to actually fuck you, y’know,” Blitzø said. He was almost convinced that Stolas had abandonment issues to match his with the way he wouldn’t fucking allow any space between them.
With that, though, Stolas dropped his legs and forcefully pulled Blitzø’s torso down against his own. Even with the minor shrinking he’d done, Blitzø still could only reach the fluff on his chest. It was comfortable as fuck.
But he had a job to do, and he knew how to do it well. Pulling out almost all the way, Blitzø then slammed back in, oddly intrigued at the difference in sound of their mismatched bodies coming together. Stolas seemed to be of a similar mind, staring intently at where Blitzø’s cock entered and exited his cunt.
Once he figured out where Stolas was most sensitive inside, he put all of his focus on that. He wanted to leave the bird a speechless mess.
Fucking into him hard and fast while trying not to come too early himself, Blitzø almost didn’t notice at first that Stolas was beginning to flicker at the edges just like he had during the fearsome display in front of Cash. He probably should have been terrified, but knowing that he was that good, that he was the one to make the demon lose control, only turned him on more.
All he managed to get out between grunts was, “Just don’t fucking take my dick off.”
“Never, darling,” Stolas replied, voices already starting to multiply.
It was even more intense like this, confined within four walls where the sound could only bounce around. The echoes made Blitzø feel insane with desire, like he was surrounded by nothing but the demon he was fucking, each heartbeat thunderously loud in his own eardrums as it pumped out a litany of Stolas, Stolas, Stolas.
Blitzø rubbed furiously at what he could only assume was a clit, thanking the heavens — or fuck it, Hell — that it was still tangible amidst the inky mass of feathers. As soon as he could feel his cock getting constricted to death, he allowed himself one final slam into that birdpuss and came harder than he ever had in his life.
Stolas keened at the warmth flooding his insides, unable to stop himself as his wings cocooned them both in darkness.
They remained where they were with Blitzø slumping over his body, still slotted in him, bellies pressing together and apart in time with heavy breaths until Stolas got his demon shit back in check.
When enough time had passed, Blitzø pulled out tenderly to mind the sensitivity of his now-soft cock, watching as their combined cum dribbled out of Stolas’ cunt. The shorter feathers surrounding it were absolutely drenched, and Blitzø couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and lick him clean. The taste of his own spend didn’t phase him anymore, but Stolas’ had a strange hint of musk to it that had him wanting to keep going back for more just to fucking understand it.
Stolas let out a yelp at the sensation, still so sensitive that a heavy throbbing could be felt through the organ, yet he didn’t do a thing to stop Blitzø. Fucking masochist.
After that generous meal, Blitzø cracked open the single working window and lit up a smoke. He tried not to make it a habit to do it inside the cabin, as weathered as it already was, but he was abso-fucking-lutely not putting on clothes just to stand outside in the cold. Belatedly he hoped that Stolas wouldn’t mind, but surely he was used to ash and brimstone and shit, right?
He accepted the cigarette when Blitzø passed it to him, making easy work of it. Such a simple thing shouldn’t be that much of a turn-on, but Blitzø was a simple man, openly gazing at the delicate flick of his wrist after a pull.
“You know…” Stolas started, voice lilting into dangerous territory. “My human form takes on the standard genitalia of my sex if you’re in any way interested.”
Blitzø paused, trying to parse his words. “You saying you can turn into a human? And you got a dick like that? Fuck yeah, birdie, what the hell are you waiting for!”
With a smirk and a wave of his hand, the same purplish magic that had created the portals swirled around Stolas, leaving behind a convincingly human figure. He looked every bit the rich prick Blitzø had feared, yet something about that natural whimsy he carried had him putting aside any complicated feelings for now.
The man was pale and still ridiculously tall from what he could tell where he laid — just not demon-tall anymore — and he had a full head of greyed hair. It looked so fucking soft, and while he had to assume it was only grey to imitate his feathers, goddamn could he pull off the silver fox look. Blitzø nearly popped another boner just from looking at him.
A glance further down had his pupils dilating in desire.
Stolas may be an ethereal demon prince, but he seemed almost nervous for Blitzø’s reaction. Was the guy actually serious about not knowing how hot he was?
“Damn, bitch, you’ve got the best of both worlds,” Blitzø decided on. “A wet-ass bird pussy and a huge fucking cock.”
In place of ruffling feathers was a deep flush that rose to Stolas’ face, intoxicatingly spreading down to his chest as well. Blitzø wanted to destroy the man. He leaned in to bite at that pale neck, receiving a guttural moan in return as he worked to leave a mark; he doubted it would need much effort. Little gasps and tremors could be felt from where Stolas was pressed against him, unused to any attention directly on his skin, let alone in this overly sensitive human meat sack.
Pulling back almost reluctantly, Blitzø had to take a moment to gather himself before he could get a good look at the art he had made on his canvas. Already forming was a reddish bruise, and fuck was he right about it being extra visible.
He delicately dragged the back of his knuckles against the mark in a trance, jolting back at the shiver it had elicited. Without thinking too deeply, Blitzø grabbed Stolas’ jaw and mashed their mouths together. They could actually kiss properly like this, in a way that Stolas’ demon form had prevented. Blitzø was willing to do a lot of stupid things, but getting his lips sliced off by a fuckass beak was not one of them.
The slide of their wet tongues together easily brought back that heat in his belly, an inferno growing brighter and brighter as his hands wandered this new body, fingertips grazing over its curves and dips.
When he reached his ass, Blitzø gripped it and got an adorable squeak out of Stolas. He kneaded it while involuntarily pushing his own hips forward in search for friction, rubbing his once again leaking cock up against a milky thigh. In turn, Blitzø could feel Stolas’ arousal now pressing into his stomach. Fuuuck, the bird was hung like a horse.
“Flip over,” Blitzø suddenly commanded. “Onto your hands and knees.”
Stolas gave a questioning look but did as asked, moving to kneel and present his plump ass, back arched sinfully. Blitzø pumped his own cock a few times and then had to grip the base to stave off an orgasm; the sight of Stolas like this was too fucking much. Freckles dotted his upper back like tiny little stars making constellations across his skin, and a pair of back dimples framing his ass had Blitzø salivating.
Before anything else could be spoken, he leaned in to spread those cheeks apart and swiped the flat of his tongue over Stolas’ hole. Reactive as ever, the man let out a surprised Oh and pushed back to pursue the feeling. With a satisfied grin, Blitzø dove back in to inch his tongue past the outer muscles of the rim. Eating ass was a bit different from eating pussy, but Blitzø was a professional no matter what he was working with.
The man in front of him was literally mewling at the way his tongue eased in and out. He threw a hand up front to stroke Stolas’ cock in time with his ministrations just to add to the thrill and savored the way Stolas mindlessly rocked into every sensation.
“Oh, your mouth is incredible, Blitzy!” he cried. “I think I could live like this forever, just an eternity of this burning pleasure on loop.”
Blitzø kicked ass at reciprocating, fuck anyone who said otherwise.
He was desperate to keep it moving and get that dick in his mouth, though. With a slap on the asscheek, Blitzø moved away and said, “Alright, birdie, turn back over for me.”
Stolas whined at the loss of contact but yet again followed the given instructions. His whole face was red now and his hair an absolute mess from how he had slipped to his elbows, forgetting the original pose and burying his face into the mattress. He should not be allowed to be this attractive in both forms.
“You ever had your dick sucked like this?”
“No, I cannot say that I have,” Stolas half-whispered, voice shot at this point.
Blitzø smirked widely, sharp canines in full view. “Let’s change that, then.”
Gripping that pretty, pink cock and sinking his mouth down as much as he could take, Blitzø had the sudden urge to sob at how well Stolas filled him.
Or maybe it was the fact that he gagged as the head hit the back of his throat.
Whatever, it was yet another thing that was worth it. He could already taste the precum and he so badly wanted to swallow for real, to get a taste of Stolas’ need in this form too, but he held back if only to be able to experience that beautiful cock inside his other hole. The weight on his tongue was enough for now.
The disguised demon writhed beneath him, muscles in a constant cycle of clenching and unclenching, his hands grasping everywhere as if unsure where to keep them. Blitzø took one and placed it on his head, eager to do whatever the fuck Stolas wanted. He was rewarded with the pull of his hair from a tight grasp, and then almost immediately after that, his entire head was pushed forward, nose meeting the happy trail that made a line down Stolas’ navel to the base of his dick.
He gagged again, and Stolas instantly removed his hand. Stupid, polite Stolas. Those royal manners might have been drilled into him, but Blitzø wanted to rip them out with his bare hands like he had glimpsed earlier. Even if he didn’t go all eldritch again, he could at least have his way with Blitzø in the next best way. It was what Blitzø was good for, after all.
Pulling off was an upsetting affair all around. Stolas grumbled at the cool air after having been surrounded by intense heat, and Blitzø mourned the fact that he wouldn’t get to taste his release. Hm, or maybe he could squeak out a third round later on...
For now, there were more important things to focus on, like getting that cock in him as soon as possible. He couldn’t be too reckless about it, though; he’d definitely need to prep himself at least a smidge, no matter how often he jacked off with a dildo up his ass. Conveniently, he kept a little bottle of lube next to his mattress for easy access.
“Shiiiit, it’s been a while since I took the real thing but I did wash off today, thank fuck. This ass is clean as a whistle and all yours for the taking,” Blitzø said as he fingered himself open. “Enjoying the show?”
The agonizingly erect cock that laid curved upon Stolas’ belly spoke for itself, but he still nodded enthusiastically.
Fuck, he couldn’t wait any longer. If it hurt, then it hurt. Clambering over to kneel above that long, lean body, Blitzø grasped Stolas’ hardness from behind him to slather it in lube and lined the fat head up to his entrance. It popped inside with little effort, a mirrored gasp coming from both of them, and Blitzø slowly lowered himself, taking the girthy cock inch by inch. It was just the right side of painful, creating a burn that he wanted to chase.
Stolas was still breathless, hands awkward and hesitant upon tan hips, but by the time Blitzø was fully seated the other man reached one of those hands up to rest against a scarred face.
“Are you alright, darling?” he asked. “You’re crying.”
Blitzø turned his head away quickly, dislodging the hand. “M’fine, Stolas. Just been a while, like I said, and you’re fucking huge.”
“I may be able to, ah, make my appendage smaller if you wish,” Stolas said with a furrowed brow like he was trying to think up the right spell for dicks.
“Don’t you fucking dare. I can handle a little pain,” Blitzø protested. Why the fuck was he concerned about him in the first place? He had taken way worse before.
Stolas hummed in thought. “Well, what if I want to take it slow? Would you deny me of my own side of the bargain?”
“Fucking fine,” Blitzø spit out. He rose, letting that glorious dick exit him, and motioned for Stolas to move. He looked panicked — probably thought he wasn’t getting the chance to finish, the prick. For all that Blitzø found him goofy and likable, he was still a prince.
Now on his own hands and knees, Blitzø looked behind him with a raised eyebrow. “Well? Get to it if you still want this ass. I am physically incapable of going slow so you’re gonna have to take what you want, bitch.”
“O-oh, are you sure?” he asked dumbly.
Blitzø let his head drop in annoyance and sighed. “Do you want to fuck me or not?”
“Yes! Undoubtedly yes.” Carefully, Stolas scrambled forward to place both hands on his body. “However, it would make me feel better to prepare you properly, darling.”
Before Blitzø could find a scathing retort, he felt slippery fingers prodding at his entrance and couldn’t help the embarrassing moan that escaped him. He kept his head down, grateful that he could hide the redness he knew was present on his face.
Stolas’ fingers were slimmer but longer, finding his prostate easily. Blitzø had honed the art of playing a part in bed down to a T, yet he found that in his current situation he was unable to bring out anything but his own humiliating responses. Each press of a finger inside him, each clumsy bump of a hand against another erogenous zone, left him unraveling like never before.
While one hand continued its work on stretching him out, the other found Blitzø’s dark pebbled nipple, pinching at it experimentally. The man let out a cry, already nearly overstimulated and he hadn’t even been given a proper dicking down yet. What the fuck kind of magic was that damn bird using on him?
He was up to three fingers, still driving into him at an even pace, and Blitzø was feeling the pull to let go but he held off out of habit. It would only lead to a disappointing climax later on, uncertain if he could even manage another so soon if he came now. For someone who seemed inexperienced, Stolas sure got a handle on things quickly.
With a humph of triumph, the fucking weirdo removed his fingers, leaving Blitzø to shudder at the emptiness. Without even looking back he could hear the sound of Stolas squeezing out more lube, then tossing the bottle to the side carelessly and slicking his cock back up. Blitzø wasn’t against some messy sex now and again, but Jesus Christ, it was starting to get a little absurd with how much fluid they’d already produced between the two of them. This bitch was only adding to it with the ridiculous amount of lube, acting like Blitzø would split in half just from taking some dick.
After five billion years of waiting with his tight little ass still in the air, Blitzø was more than ready to get back to it. Expecting Stolas to push right in, he was instead surprised with the light pressure of lips against his tailbone.
“Oh, what the fuck?” he muttered.
Stolas only giggled, the bastard. But he was instantly forgiven when he followed with a dick to the ass, finally pressing in. He was right that the additional prep made the intrusion easier, but it felt odd to have only pleasure with minimal pain. Blitzø could admit that part of it was probably trauma bullshit, but he did genuinely like the heat of a well-placed strike, the ache of a securely-tied rope. Maybe he just happened to let it go too far sometimes, whoop-de-fucking-doo.
Thankfully there wasn’t much room left for overthinking once Stolas was fully seated, because even without any noticeable pain it was still a stretch. If Blitzø had felt full with that cock in his mouth before, the fullness he felt now was indescribable.
Stolas was practically shaking behind him from the overwhelming feeling, clearly unused to sticking his dick in anything. Why the fuck he hadn’t, Blitzø wasn’t sure; if he had the ability to transform into a whole other being, one of the very first things he’d try out was sex with as many different people as possible.
A sweaty forehead fell against his upper back as Stolas quietly and eloquently exhaled, “Fuuuuuck.”
Blitzø snorted. “Yep, sounds about right.”
He forced his body back just to see what he could work out of Stolas and got another yelp and the tight grip of hands at his hips. Human nails weren’t as sharp as talons, but they still bit into his skin. Not bad, not bad.
“C’mon big guy, show me what you’ve got.”
Stolas groaned but lifted himself up, rearing back to push in fully again, balls slapping against Blitzø’s ass. There was the sound Blitzø was accustomed to.
He had half a mind to dig around the place for a condom, years of sense and hard-learned lessons coming into play, but he wasn’t about to stop the whole thing a second time. Fuck it, he would just let himself get creampied as a treat since Stolas had let him do the same; the demon could probably fuckin’ magic away any nasty diseases anyway.
Blitzø’s legs unconsciously spread further apart, arm muscles working their damndest to hold him up. Stolas kept one hand sunk into the meat of his hip while the other roamed, sliding up and around to cup his belly. It only lasted for a moment before Stolas moved to take his neglected dick in hand, but Blitzø already knew he would be playing that specific caress on repeat in his mind for weeks. His spank bank was going to have an enormous overhaul after this day.
Fucking into him with a renewed fervor, Stolas started up more of his nonsense babbling about what he wanted to do to Blitzø and what he desired in return. Some of the things he said were genuinely fucking insane, but apparently Blitzø was into crazy because it was somehow doing it for him. I want us to piledrive each other so deeply and thoroughly that our carnal pleasure leaves eternal twin marks by permanently rearranging our guts? Sure, why the hell not, might as well add body trauma to his list of kinks.
Before he knew it, Stolas was pulling him upwards, back snug to a chest that Blitzø secretly wished was still covered in soft feathers. He wouldn’t complain about it, though, because the large expanse of skin-to-skin contact had him feeling just as heady.
Essentially sitting in his lap, the new position allowed for Stolas to thrust upwards, hitting Blitzø’s prostate every time now. It wouldn’t take long for either of them to reach their breaking points, but they tried to ride it out as long as possible. Blitzø ground down, hips circling on their own out of pure hedonistic instinct, causing Stolas to gasp and throw off his steady pattern.
He let his hand erratically jerk Blitzø off to completion, the other wrapped painfully tight around the man’s torso. Blitzø was out of his damn mind with euphoria; he wasn’t even annoyed about the fact that he’d have to clean the cum off his bed from where strings of it had landed.
Biting into a lean shoulder hard, Stolas’ body was aflame as he pumped his own load into Blitzø. A transformation into that magnificent dark beast was avoided this time, but it was a near thing with the way he curled around the other’s body like a heated furnace.
“Oh dear,” he said breathily during the comedown. “That was quite the experience.”
Blitzø felt as limp and braindead as a wet noodle, but he still let out a laugh. “Just fucked the life out of me and all you have to say is oh dear. You are so fucking weird.”
“…I cannot tell if I am meant to take that as a compliment or not.”
“You bet your ass it’s a compliment,” Blitzø said. “Not gonna get anywhere important by being normal, whatever the fuck that even means.”
He could make out the shape of a smile against his back and told his heart to shut the fuck up.
Without warning, Stolas made one of his magicky motions and was back in his body of feathers, which was quickly becoming one of Blitzø’s favorite sensations. It was strange to feel the sudden absence of the dick in his ass, though, simply disappearing without even the usual uncomfortable exit. The cum dripping down his inner thighs was still there, at least.
Dropping forward to pose and show off their mess, Blitzø looked over his shoulder and waggled his eyebrows at Stolas exaggeratedly. The owl tittered, still finding Blitzø funny for some godforsaken reason, but he was also very clearly eyeing him with interest again.
“Ah ah ah, hold it right there, mister,” Blitzø joked. “As much as I loved your dick and puss combo attack, I really gotta tap out for now or else I won’t be alive to do anything else.”
Stolas covered his face, embarrassed at being caught. "Understood."
“Hope you enjoyed the good time, though, birdie. How much of this was new to you exactly?”
“Well, I’m afraid I’ve hardly done any of this before today,” Stolas replied, sounding ashamed and thrilled all at once. “My wife and I aren’t all that… active together aside from the required attempts at conceiving, and I could certainly never imagine enjoying any of this with her.”
That answer gave Blitzø pause. The demon twink had a fucking wife?
Now listen, he wasn’t above being a homewrecker if the lay was worth it, but what kind of Hell had shit like marriage? Why would literal demons think that shit was worth it? They had to know better than that…
But screw it, Blitzø could handle being his dirty little secret for a day. If he had been silently hoping to meet again, well, that thought didn’t have to make its way out into the world.
Attempting to settle back into the mood again, he whipped up the first other thing that came to mind. “Stolas, you’re gay as fuck.”
A hooting laugh sounded at that, and it made Blitzø’s backstabbing little heart race, eyes following the angle of the owl’s face as he covered his beak. “While I’ve never put it into words myself before, you are quite right, darling,” Stolas said. “I do much prefer men like yourself.”
Blitzø looked at him like he was insane. “Then why the fuck do you have a wife?”
He sighed. “It was arranged without my consent, I can assure you of that. I had no choice but to follow my father’s orders, and I was molded into the prince they needed. It is a bit humiliating admitting to such a free spirit how utterly cowardly I am.”
Taking a minute to process, Blitzø rested his head on one hand and absently traced the shape of Stolas’ face with the other, where white feathers transitioned into a blueish gray. “S’not your fucking fault,” he ended up on. “I used to have grand fuckin’ ambitions, but look at me now: squatting in a rotting cabin in the middle of nowhere with nothing to my name, just as bad as my old man. Except this was my fault, and that’s how I know it’s not yours. You were born into that shit; I dug my own grave.”
Stolas scoffed. “I hardly think you were the cause of any major problems. I did meet your father, you know.”
“But I didn’t— I wasn’t—“ Blitzø swallowed back the words he couldn’t bring himself to say. He didn’t do enough. He wasn’t enough.
“Blitzø—“
“Nevermind, it doesn’t mean shit anyway,” he interrupted. “Can we just fucking, I don’t know, chill? Without talking?”
Visibly trying to compose himself, Stolas took a breath with closed eyes and nodded. “Yes, of course. Whatever you wish.”
At that, Blitzø dropped his head onto Stolas’ shoulder as if all the energy had been sapped from him. After their romp in the sheets, Stolas supposed it was possible; humans did not possess the same stamina as demons. A shame, but he wouldn’t hold it against the man. There was clearly already too much going on in that brilliant mind of his.
As Blitzø dozed, head slipping to rest upon a feathered chest, Stolas eyed the inside of the cabin again. It was rather sparse in its offerings, only a handful of pieces of rundown, mismatched furniture that included the bare mattress they currently laid upon, but he could tell that Blitzø had done his best to make it feel like a home.
There were numerous things that indicated life in the place: a used mug, a rack of drying dishes, a wicker basket half full. A concerning amount of horse paraphernalia, though it was quite charming when Stolas thought about their earlier conversation. On a little table off to the side sat a crudely-made horse of wood, and he wondered if Blitzø had carved it himself, putting all his love and care into the statuette.
Who knew he would grow fond of a human so easily? Sinners had always seemed like meager little worms under his talons, creatures who thought themselves more important than they actually were. Even the living humans he had occasionally come across during his duties were obnoxious more than anything else, and he had assumed no differently when summoned to this forest. Until he met the man that had summoned him, of course.
It brought dangerous thoughts to the front of mind, thoughts of running away and living out the rest of his immortal life here on Earth. It was absurd to entertain the idea, but oh, how wonderful would it be? And then he could— oh, oh dear, that was a sex toy sitting right on the makeshift nightstand.
He felt heat rush to his face at the thought of Blitzø using it on himself. It had completely escaped his notice before, but to be fair, he had more important things to focus on. Perhaps if he could convince Blitzø to summon him once more…
But no, he would not inconvenience the man with his presence unless there was a better idea to follow up on.
★⛧★
Some time later, the two of them stood awkwardly in the cabin, redressed for the most part though neither one was quite ready to say goodbye. Blitzø just wanted to rip the bandaid off, but he was going to cherish every final moment he could get with the owl, even with the sour feeling that had settled deep in his stomach at how Stolas would go back to a cushy life with a distinguished future and forget about Blitzø the Shitty Little Human.
“I don’t want to go,” Stolas sighed. And despite Blitzø’s misgivings, he couldn’t deny that his dramatic ass looked so forlorn about it, too, like a Victorian maiden watching her husband go off to work in the mines.
Blitzø scoffed harsher than he’d meant to. “I mean, you’re a fucking demon prince, can’t you just stay up here and play house until you’re bored?”
Stolas turned his head sharply in that freakish bird way to look at him dead on.
“What?” Blitzø asked, irritated.
“I could stay here with you,” he said as if having an epiphany.
“With— with me?”
“I could— I could run away and live my life on Earth by your side, claim that part of the deal was that I cannot leave until you release me! Oh, this is perfect.”
“Woah, woah, woah, what the fuck are you talking about, Stolas?”
He began pacing, arms gesticulating wildly again as he talked to himself. “I had only thought of staying on Earth, I didn’t consider the possibility of using you for it. But that could work! Surely no one would deny the fulfillment of a summoning deal, and we would have all the time in the world to ourselves.”
Cautiously taking a step backward, Blitzø looked tense enough to flee at the drop of a hat. His mind raced, completely blindsided by the idea of Stolas actually wanting to stick around. Would Stolas get in trouble? Would he get in trouble? He didn’t know the first thing about the fucking laws of Hell, if there even were any. More than that, though, why would anyone want to stay with him?
The silence grew uncomfortably long. Eventually Stolas looked at him, really looked at him this time, and the frenzied excitement died down at whatever he saw.
“Right, of course,” Stolas said, and the tone was too fucking formal. He bowed his head and continued with, “I apologize for attempting to impose myself on you, Blitzø. It was truly inconsiderate of me, and clearly I didn’t even consider how that may affect your life or your... other relationships.”
It made Blitzø want to crawl out of his skin. In all honesty, he wanted the damn bird to stay more than anything. That single day was the most alive he’d felt in fucking years. When was the last time he’d laughed, enjoyed sex, even had an actual fucking conversation that wasn’t just the bare minimum of human interaction?
Reaching out and holding someone close to his heart was terrifying, but… maybe, just maybe, he could try one last time before swearing that shit off for good.
“You can stay,” he mumbled. Saying it was embarrassing as fuck; he couldn’t even meet Stolas’ eyes.
“What?” Stolas asked in disbelief.
“You can stay, dammit! For— for as long as we’re able to keep you here.”
Stolas stared, trembling with emotion, but all at once he seemed to cave in on himself again. “And how long would that be, do you think? How long until you grow tired of my inadequacies? It’d be near impossible to beat my wife’s record, I’m sure.”
Rolling his eyes, Blitzø leaned forward and pinched a feathered thigh playfully, garnering a yelp.
“What the fuck was that for?!”
“There we go, knew you had it in you,” Blitzø said, grinning. “Where did your sudden stupid confidence go? This is probably a dumb fucking idea and it’s definitely gonna go to shit at some point, but… if we’re both fucked up outcasts on the run then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to, y’know, be that together. What do you say, birdie?”
“I— I would love to, but—“
A finger to his beak shut him up real quick.
“But what, Stolas? Am I too much of a fuck-up to stay with? Is that it? You rethought it and realized it’s not worth whatever fucking consequences there might be?”
That startled Stolas into a real answer this time, taking Blitzø’s hand in his. “No, no, no, never! You are the best thing that’s ever happened in all of my awful life!”
Blitzø sighed. “Then what’s the problem? Gonna miss your luxuries that badly, your highness?”
“You’re just being rude on purpose now,” the owl said with a frown. “Yes, perhaps I’ll miss certain amenities, but more importantly how would this work? I wouldn’t regret staying with you one bit, but you’re right that it requires some more thought than my initial imprudence had allowed. I can’t live as a demon up on Earth where humans can see me prancing about!”
Stomping his way over to the front door, Blitzø ripped it open and yelled outside, “Hey, everyone! I’ve got a tall, fuckable owl demon in my cabin! Wanna come and see?!”
“Blitzø, what in Hell are you doing?!” Stolas frantically whispered, taking quick, long strides over to cover the human’s mouth before he could shout more nonsense and alert people of his presence.
Blitzø turned his head and raised an eyebrow, waiting for Stolas to remove his hand. When that didn’t happen, he poked his tongue out to lick at the palm, and that worked. The disgruntled reaction was unfairly endearing.
“There’s literally no one else here, Stols. Look around you, this dump had already been empty for years before I showed up and made it my bitch. I’ve hiked through these woods in every fuckin’ direction and there’s nothing but trees for miles. It sucks ass to have to travel so far for shit, but I try to make use of as much as I can right here. You can learn, and you can be your bird self all you want, or you can go human if that makes you feel better. Just please— please don’t leave me. I can be better! I swear, I’ll try, just…”
He hadn’t meant to go on a whole fucking rant and end with tears building up in his eyes, but that’s where his body and brain decided to take him. Fucking traitors.
Miraculously, though, maybe it was enough.
Tears slid down Stolas’ face, mirroring his own, and Blitzø stupidly wondered how he had managed to transfer his own mess to the owl. He balanced on his tiptoes to rub at the tear tracks that ruined those pristine white feathers. Here he was, ruining another person’s life.
But if he let himself fully take in everything Stolas had been saying, it seemed obvious enough that the bird had a shitty life back in Hell with a shitty wife and shitty expectations weighing on him — or at least as shitty as a prince’s life could get. Blitzø wouldn’t pretend to understand the layers to that, but he could smell despair, and the desperation with which Stolas had been trying to convince himself of running away was proof of it. Escaping to Earth was the only hope he had left.
Blitzø couldn’t take that away from him. He didn’t know where the line between that and the depth of his own feelings blurred, but he would fight for it either way now that the idea was seared into his mind, stronger than even his deepest-rooted fears. He’d been lonely for so fucking long.
Surging forward, he pulled Stolas into a hug and whimpered, “Please?”
The owl stiffened at the pressure but quickly wrapped his own spindly arms around Blitzø, talons curled into his threadbare shirt.
His voice was timid when he spoke. “You’re positive I won’t be imposing? It’s certainly not every day that a human is willing to provide a sanctuary for a rebellious hellborn…”
“I want you here if that’s what you’re worried about, birdbrain. No fucking demon is gonna be worse than Cash Buckzo.”
Blitzø was sure he’d find something to regret about the impulsive decision eventually, but this was miles better than any other impulsive decisions he’d made before. Usually it was shit like can I get past that feral wolf to reach the tree with the non-poisonous berries, not can I let this person into my life and have a good thing for once.
Both were very dangerous endeavors, but the reward would be so much better than some dumb berries if it paid off well.
Stolas smiled gently at him and fucking dammit, Blitzø could get used to that.
“Very well. I’ll be back as quickly as possible then, darling,” he said.
Pressing a chaste peck to Blitzø’s scarred cheek, Stolas summoned a portal and stepped through with more determination than he had ever possessed on the other side of it.
He’d grace the palace with one last visit, proudly wearing his newfound resolve in defiance against the institution that had bled him dry, and then return to the place where he knew he belonged.
He had a bag to pack.