Chapter Text
It took Blitz all of two hours after Stolas had vanished before he decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He wants to give him his space, he does—knows he should even, but after everything they’ve been through, he selfishly just wants to take care of his bird. So sue him.
“It shouldn’t take long,” he said to Loona as he ran out the door. He’s a ten foot tall Goetia Prince, it’s not as if you could lose him. He thought to himself as he ran out the front door. What he hadn’t counted on was the fact that while Stolas may have been hard to miss, given the fact that Blitz was almost immediately mobbed by fans the second he left his apartment meant it was hard to see anyone. He tried to push past them, as nicely as he could, he signed things regularly. Ironically now that he was taken everyone and their grandmother wanted to marry him, or fuck him. But all he wanted was his big depressed bird. Damn, he really had changed. The thought of just taking care of Stolas got him up in the morning, in more ways than one. Even if they didn’t fuck, and they hadn’t in a while, making sure that his—love was okay made him feel good. They hadn’t said the word really yet, but Blitz had been thinking it. Sometimes he thought about telling Stolas he loved him in the throes of passion and got so turned on he got lightheaded.
His hellphone rang, Blitz fumbled, hoping desperately that it was either Stolas calling him to tell him where he was, or Loona calling to tell him he was already back at the apartment. To his great surprise it was neither. Instead it was Fizz’s face on his caller-ID.
“Fizzz,” he said as he picked up the phone.
“Hey bitch,” Fizz teased. Blitz chuckled, trying to make an exit from his gushing fans now that he was on the phone, he slipped into an alley hoping they wouldn’t follow. He was just glad things were normal between him and Fizz again. He had been furious after the whole Blitz nearly getting killed thing. Fizz had punched his arm and told him not to ever do that to him again. Blitz had pretended it hadn’t hurt as much as it had, he wondered if Fizz even realized how much force that arm could pull. “How was your Sinsmas?” Fizz asked.
“Complicated,” Blitz admitted with a sigh. “Shit hit the fan with Stolas—again.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Blitz frowned.
“Is he okay?”
“Well his daughter hates him so you tell me.”
“Via?” Fizz asked. “That’s not like her.” Fizz had performed at one of her parties when she was younger. The girl had been terrified, apparently by one of the robo Fizzies at LooLooLand. Naturally, FizzaRolli couldn’t let such an offense stand and so he had simply done his best to make her feel more at ease with the real deal. He had been silly and entertaining, what he did best and it had all gone swimmingly. She had been thrilled to meet him, even if she was still kind of terrified of the robo Fizzies. Even then, he could recognize a good dad from a shitty one. He may never have had a father himself. Cash Buckzo had certainly loved him more than he’d loved Blitz—but it had always been for the money he brought in. No more had that been clear to him than once when Fizz was nine and caught impfluenza. He had a fever, chills, he was coughing, and vomiting and could barely stand up, but Cash demanded that he perform. “Yer loosin’ me money, kid!” He had shrieked. Blitz had stood up for him. He always stood up for him, even when he got beat for it.
Between Cash and then Mammon, Fizz didn’t take well to being sick, ever. Oz practically had to drag him away from the stage whenever he was sick. Especially in the beginning. When so much of your life is tied to how much money you’re making other people, your self worth and your usefulness are entirely tied to your ability to contribute. Being sick simply wasn’t an option for him. It didn’t help that since the fire his ability to fight infection had gone to absolute shit and it fucking sucked. As had his ability to self regulate his own temperature. Being from Wrath, imps were warm by nature, or they were supposed to be, but losing all of his limbs and having most of his skin burned away meant that Fizz’s body was terrible at thermodynamic regulation. He was constantly freezing. Especially in the winter. Thank Satan Oz kept the palace so warm for him.
“Look Fizz, I’d love to chat an’ all, but he’s kind of gone missing.”
“What do you mean, missing? He’s like a ten foot tall Goetia Prince,” Fizz argued. Blitz would have laughed, he’d thought the same thing but here they were.
“Well—not so much a prince anymore,” Blitz said, poking his head out of the alleyway. He was trying to avoid getting trampled at the moment.
“That’s the part you chose to focus on?”
“I’m sorry I’m not really paying attention,” he admitted, the crowd had dissipated but he was afraid the second someone caught sight of him he’d be fucked.
“You need help?” Fizz asked.
“You got some magical royal bird finding powers?” He paused and the two laughed. They were both dating royal birds after all.
“Shaking my ass usually does the trick…I’ll call up the limo and get it to bring me up,” Fizz said.
“Thanks Fizz,” Blitz said. Not for the first time, Blitz was grateful for the rekindled friendship he had with Fizz. As he hung up the phone, he looked around. “Where the fuck could he be?” Stolas no longer had a hellphone of his own, which meant there was hardly any chance of trying to call him. And it wasn’t as if the police in Imp city had any desire to find him either so chances weren’t good that that would work well in his favor.
“There he is!” Someone yelled. A crowd quickly surrounded Blitz once more, and being the center of attention was not as fun as it had been weeks earlier. He felt claustrophobic and he didn’t know what to say. He had been the center of attention like this once upon a time, and it only served to remind him of all that he had lost. Attention had only ever come with trauma. He hadn’t asked to become the king of the imps. Ironically that had been Stolas’ doing. His song was practically a rallying cry to imps everywhere and yet they hated him. Blitz almost felt like he was drowning in other people’s emotions. Their hopes, their dreams. All foisted upon him. All of their expectations, as if suddenly he should be the one to deal with it all. It was funny how life went like that. One day he was a nobody with a business that barely scraped by and the next day, everyone wanted to know him. Or rather, they wanted to know Blitz the hero. Blitz their salvation. Would they still love him if they knew all he had done? All he had been through? Would they still love him even when he couldn’t love himself?
Stolas did. Stolas had given up everything to save him. Would any of the demons now clamoring for his attention do the same? Somehow he doubted it. He couldn’t even say he blamed them for it either. Of course you didn’t stick your neck out for someone who wasn’t family or a close friend. Sure, they wanted to be near him now, but how long would it last? Moxie and Millie had been with him through thick and thin. They had helped him out of some tough jams, and Loona. Loona was everything to him.
He was spiraling. The cacophony of voices echoed in his head. His father, loudest of them all. So many detractors who said he couldn’t do it. That he’d never amount to anything. Then, like a beacon, a clown car horn echoed and the crowd parted to reveal a gleaming purple limo. The door opened and a robotic arm snatched Blitz out of the crowd and yanked him in. The door shutting behind him.
“Did someone call for a rescue?” Fizz asked with a giggle.
“Oh thank Satan you’re here,” Blitz said as he wrapped his arms around his best friend. It had all been too much, too overwhelming. He sighed, grateful for the sensory deprivation that the limo provided.
“You’ve got quite the fan club now,” Fizz remarked. “Looks like I’m no longer the famous friend.”
“Uh—you’re practically the queen of the Lust ring,” Blitz argued sinking into the seat beside his best friend.
“I’m not complaining,” Fizz said with a shrug. “It’s exhausting being famous all the time. Frankly I’m sick and tired of it. Let someone else take it over.”
“I’m not so sure I want it to be me,” Blitz admitted.
“The fame monster already biting at your ankles?” Fizz asked.
“It’s not really worth much when the one person you want to share it with isn’t by your side.”
“We’ll find him,” Fizz promised.
“I just wish he’d reach out or something. At least let me know he’s safe,” he sighed, staring up at the ceiling of the limo. It was pink, everything had a soft neon glow inside.
Fizz hummed, and pulled out his hell phone quickly dialing Oz. “Hey big daddy. Listen question for ya, I got Blitz here, mind if I put ya on speakerphone?” He giggled. “Okay hold on.” He put his phone on speaker. “Okay babe.”
“What’s goin’ on Fizziepop?” Oz asked. Blitz pretended to gag.
“Stolas is missing,” Fizz said.
“Shit. I was afraid of this,” he said.
“Do you know anywhere he could have gone? I know he doesn’t have access to like his mansion and shit but—does he have family?”
“The Sins and the Goetia are kind of family adjacent, it’s complicated,” Oz said. He didn’t really like to look at Mammon as anything like family. He wasn’t technically. It was all leftover bullshit from Heaven where everyone was your ‘brother’. Until they weren’t. Lu had tried to keep it up in Hell (for some reason) but no one really went for it. “Babe doesn’t Char have that hotel in the Gram? You think he would have gone there?”
“Who?” Blitz mouthed.
“You’re so brilliant big Daddy, I’ll call Char,” Fizz said.
“Anything for you Fizziepop. Text me later let me know how it goes.”
Fizz giggled and hung up the phone, quickly sending him a kiss emoji before he pulled up his contacts.
“Who the fuck is Char?”
“Charlie Morningstar, duh” Fizz said, rolling his eyes.
“The Princess of Hell?” Blitz said incredulous. “You call her Char and I’m the more famous friend?” Fizz held up a finger as he called her up.
“Heyyyy sweetie,” he said. Blitz could practically hear her gushing on the other side of the phone. Clearly Fizz knew her much better than he let on. Fizz didn’t speak for a long moment, it was clear that the princess of Hell had quite a bit to say. Fizz was nothing if not good with children, but wasn’t the princess supposed to be like two hundred years old or something? He didn’t know what that was in like normal demon years, but if she ran a hotel or something surely she had to be older. Fizz smiled. “I know it’s been forever, listen quick question. I was just talking to Ozzie—Stolas wouldn’t happen to be there would he?” He paused. She had apparently gone on another tangent, Fizz nodded giving Blitz a thumbs up as she continued on. She was going to be a while apparently. Fizz put the phone to his shoulder and told the driver to take them to the Hazbin Hotel. Blitz watched in fascination as his best friend talked to the Princess of Hell like it was the most perfectly normal thing to do in the world. Like it was just your average Wednesday. Guess that’s what happens when you marry a King.
Stolas was a prince yes, demon royalty and all that, but he had yet to introduce Blitz to the princess of all of Hell. Stolas was sort of the prince of Wrath, or at least a portion of Wrath, Blitz still didn’t entirely understand how the whole legion thing worked. It wasn’t as if Stolas had ever wanted to talk about the politics of it all and in the beginning their relationship had always been more focused on sex than their personal lives. Stolas knew about IMP. He knew about what Blitz did obviously, but it wasn’t the same as actually knowing what his life was like. They had been together for what felt like years now, and yet what did they really know about each other beyond their sexual preferences and that they loved one another?
They had practically arrived at the hotel by the time Fizz managed to coax her off the phone assuring the princess he would see her soon. He chuckled.
“How the fuck old is she?”
“Two hundred and twenty two?”
“What’s that in normal demon years?” Blitz asked.
“Like twenty?”
“Huh—”
“Don’t hit on my niece please.”
“Okay, first of all ew,” Blitz said. “I’m happily taken thank you very much.”
“As is she,” Fizz said. He had met Vaggie only in passing, but Charlie talked about her all the time.
“I know I’m a slut but I don’t just hit on anyone who moves.” Fizz gave him a look and okay maybe Blitz couldn’t really argue with that. “Okay, touche but also fuck you.” The limo came to a stop and the door opened. Fizz stepped out first, and Blitz followed, he was almost nervous to get out of the safety of the limo. The tinted windows had kept him hidden away, and as far as he could tell his fanbase hadn’t exactly followed them, and yet— was this going to be his life now? Just constantly followed and watched? Perpetually observed like some sort of butterfire under a glass container? He stepped out of the limo just as the door of the hotel opened and a bright eyed blonde pulled Fizz into her arms and hugged him tight enough that his eyes almost seemed like they might pop out. She was certainly a live wire, Blitz thought.