Chapter Text
Unfortunately for the heartbroken, life does not end after heartbreak.
No, life carries on going because life doesn't give a flying sh*t about the people it hurts because life is a f*cking bitch.
Not that Blitzø is heartbroken, no, that would imply he has a heart and he doesn't, of course not, ha ha ha, f*ck you very much. And life after the break up (that's not actually a breakup because they weren't even a thing in the first place as he keeps telling everyone) is like death by a hundred thousand tiny little excruciating cuts only without the sweet release that dying would actually bring.
Basically, it f*cking sucks balls.
It is incredible though, how much he hadgrown to enjoy Stolas' presence in his life and how much the Goetia had filled the quiet parts without him even realising. Now the absence of him stands out glaringly obvious.
Case in point, he can't even look at his calendar because seeing the next full moon pencilled in and his crude little sex illustrations makes him want to cry. It does help that Loona tried to obliterate it, bless her heart, but he can still see it under the thick black marker. He still knows it's there.
Using his phone is impossible because all he sees is that stupid selfie that he made into his phone background. The one he took of them when Stolas was asleep and curled around Blitzø like he never wanted him to leave. The one he can't bring himself to change even if he feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest every time he looks at it.
Even the absinthe on their modest booze shelf is untouched because he cannot stomach the smell of it when he still remembers how it tasted from Stolas' beak the very first time they slept together. It's the only bottle on the shelf that is untouched, he's drained the rest ten times over.
And he's only resorted to the booze because every time he uses the Asmodeus crystal, he wants to die. Because oh yeah, Stolas didn't even let him self-sabotage his business successfully and must have slipped it into his pocket when he was yelling at him. Or worse, he probably portalled it into his pocket later and heard Blitzø ugly crying on his sofa. That considerate f*cker. This one is actually kind of a double whammy because every time he gets the crystal out and sees the expressions on Loona's or Millie’s or Moxxie’s faces, it makes him want to be violently sick. And often he is, because of the ransacked booze the night before.
But what really kills him (without doing him the mercy of actually killing him and putting him out of his misery) is the lack of calls and texts.
He didn't realise quite how much he'd gotten used to Stolas messaging him or ringing him. How the owl was always asking him about his day or sharing little jokes or his thoughts about the latest Hell-a-Novela episodes (he loves that messy bitch Gabriela) or even when he indulged Blitzø and listened to him gush about his horse shows. No one else listens to him talk about his horses. He misses it and the soft way the owl would stroke his horns as Blitzø rambled, a soft expression on the other demon’s face. He hates to admit but he misses hearing about Octavia's antics and the funny little selfies Stolas used to send him. And he definitely misses the sexy ones becausehot damn that owl knew how to take an artistic nude. He hadn't realised just how much he loved those little moments until they had been cruelly ripped away from him.
So yeah, Blitzø is not coping well because it's all gone now and he is f*cking miserable.
But life goes on because life is a f*cking unrelenting bitch.
He does find that he falls into a bit of a routine. Wake up from the sweet, sweet oblivion of sleep and immediately feel the fresh unbearable agony of his heartbreak as he remembers yet again, all that he's lost and precisely why he f*cking deserves to lose it. Get ready for work and steadfastly do not look at his danger zone thong washed and thrown in the corner of his room. He can't bring himself to wear it anymore not since he chose it out, especially for the last full moon. Have breakfast with another sprinkle of pure unadulterated pain and a dash of self-loathing as a treat as he remembers he didn't get a morning text from Stolas. That he won't get any more morning texts from the prince ever again.
Go to work where he is greeted by three concerned faces and promptly shuts himself in his office because he simply cannot deal with that on top of everything else. He hears them whisper their concerns because he smells like booze and he looks like ass, but he can't bring himself to care. They have jobs now, lots of them. Business is finally booming so they go out in the field and kill some people and once they're done, he comes back to cry in his office because he'd rather use the bloody book than that f*cking crystal any day.
He checks his texts even though he knows Stolas won’t have sent him anything, why would he? He's probably off living his best life, hot owl summer and all that. His employees pretend not to hear him sobbing and he pretends he's fine until they can clock off and go home so he can drink himself into unconsciousness. Wash. Rinse Repeat.
He is coping. Barely.
The first full moon after the non-break-up was the hardest. But he is forever grateful for the way Loona invited (or threatened, he’s not one hundred precent sure) Millie and Moxxie over. How they all squished onto their tiny sofa with takeaways and crappy action films that they made fun of all night because the dialogue is abysmal and the combat is ridiculous and they would know, they're the professionals. How he fell asleep between Loona and Moxie with Millie's feet in his lap and how that is the closest he's been to happiness since Stolas ended their purely transactional f*cking.
He is grateful too for Fizzarolli now that his oldest friend is back in his life. Though he could do without the pitying looks and the almost constant attempts to convince him to talk to Stolas, he puts up with them because he enjoys having his oldest friend back in his life. He finds that they've immediately slipped into old patterns. Plus it gives him a break from Loona's worried stares and makes her think he's getting out, doing something productive to prevent a good, old menty b.
The point is, that he is coping and it is getting slightly easier to breathe at least. Though he knows that his feelings for his Goetian prince are still there, he finds the loss of him easier to cope with as he adjusts to his new normal.
And that's his life for weeks after the completely not a break-up. It's all he can do until one cantankerous little owlet crashes through his office door and breaks the monotony of his depression routine he'd fallen into.
(She might be the first demon to finally actually use the f*cking door, yay.)
Octavia bursts into the I.M.P office almost two months after Stolas gave him the crystal with tears staining her face, breathing heavily and visibly panicked. They all stand there for a second blinking and stunned. She is the last person Blitzø expected to see.
Well, second to last.
He doesn't imagine he'll ever see Stolas again. His grief threatens to rear its ugly head at the thought, but he manages to wash it down as his Overprotective Dad mode activates at the sight of the girl in distress.
Normally this is instinct only activates when he sees Loona, but apparently, this now extends to Octavia too. He's not sure whether it's the fact he feels like he knows her, having listened to so many of Stolas' stories about her, or maybe it's just because she reminds him so strongly of her dad, in the way she speaks and the way she holds herself. Maybe it's guilt for the sh*tty circ*mstances he's put her in for ruining her parents’ marriage - and hey, wouldn't that be handy and completely destroy his therapist's argument that he's actually a psychopath cause honestly f*ck that guy.
Whatever it is, he knows that he wants to kill whatever the f*ck jackass has upset her. She's important to Stolas and despite everything that has happened between them, that still means she's important to him.
His chest aches at the thought, it's a searing agony that never goes away, never eases up and clouds his every thought, breath and movement. It's been weeks and he still feels it as fresh as the day it ended. But he can quash it a little when he's in Full Dad mode.
So, he rushes over to Octavia without really thinking about it, checks her for visible wounds, makes her sit down, gets her a drink of water and waits patiently for her to calm down enough to tell him what's wrong. He fights the urge to brush her feathers out of her eyes and also the one that tells him to hug her. He's not sure she would appreciate it and he doesn't want to risk pushing her away when she so clearly needs someone.
He can feel M&M staring at him like he's been possessed by an angel or a cherub or whatever the f*ck is up there walking around Heaven like they're the f*cking sh*ts and he's pretty sure Loona is videoing this, no doubt for emotional blackmail purposes so she can throw it in his face at their next argument. But he can't find it in himself to care.
Octavia is in pieces. She needs someone and for some f*cking reason, she came to him.
Blitzø is not going to take that lightly.
“Come on sweetie, it's okay, we'll help,” Blitzø says, voice soft and eyes gentle as she looks at him. She looks so young and helpless. He touches her arm gently, a silent comfort. She doesn't flinch away.
Her breathing calms a little and she looks up at Blitzø with fresh tears in her eyes. He feels his heart stop as she speaks, “It's my dad… he's been taken.”
And Blitzø's world comes crashing down for the second time in as many months.
