I'll Never Lose You

by Syrengoes

Summary:

During the events of S2E6 (“Oops”), Stolas catches a glimpse of Blitzø in the ransom footage—bound, bruised, and taken with Fizz. The prince refuses to stay out of it.

Chapter 1

Summary:

Stolas books a meeting with Ozzie, only to find that his meeting would not turn out the way he would have liked it to. Not in the slightest.

Notes:

(Heavily recommended if you haven't already that you watch S2 E6 of Helluva Boss before reading this fic).

Stolas was sure Asmodeus was saying something, but he was just looking at his hands in his lap, wondering if this was even a good idea. He didn't have a whole lot of good ideas recently—Ozzie being right there reminding him of a particularly bad one which wasn't so recent, but still a decision nonetheless. Or the time he had tea with Stella and Andrealphus. Had he declined the invitation he wouldn't have had to spend those nights in the hospital. Those lonely, grueling nights.

His daughter wasn't allowed to visit, he guessed. Stella was always strict with her. So he had to just lay there. No one to visit, to care for him, just the dull flowers that the other goetia were quite obviously forced to send. He didn't recognize a single name on the cards, though he probably should have.

Getting drunk at those dreadful parties never allowed him time to know anyone, not that he'd want to anyways. He was always the laughing stock, after all. The failure of the goetia family, if there ever was one. The thing that hurt him the most, though, is that Blitzø didn't even bother visiting him... Nor rescuing him. He could only manage to send some smaller employees, some which Stolas forgot the name of.

Stolas jolted upright as fingers snapped right in front of his eyes. Asmodeus leaned over the table, getting his full attention. "Hey, birdy babe, you alright? You seemed like you were dozing off for a sec there." Asmodeus asked.

Stolas wasn't sure if he was genuinely concerned or he just wanted to get back to his work and be done with this meeting. Probably that. "I apologize, your highness." He said, knowing he didn't know him well enough to actually call him by name. They'd met in the past, just at parties or meetings. Never personally, not even now. They'd also met at his club in the lust ring, but... Well, that night resulted in a lot of drinking.

"I just, you see," Stolas started, unsure of where to take this to sound convincing enough. It wouldn't be out of pure pity that Asmodeus would grant him this, but he'd try anyways. "This imp has a business he runs. He needs to access the mortal realm to carry out his work." Stolas looked at Asmodeus to make sure he was paying attention—the sin was devouring cookies, but nonetheless, Stolas continued. "I know some of your demons are the only ones who can traverse freely, and legally, and I was wondering if you could assist me in..." Stolas reached to the side of his hip, the grimoire summoning magically. "...Finding some way he could too?" Stolas said, placing the grimoire and sliding it slightly down the table.

"Oh, hmmm, Stolas..." Asmodeus replied, his face taking a more serious tone. "My heart bleeds for you, but my partner, uh... Business partner, Fizzarolli, hates your imp guy. Blitzø, right? Yeahhh... Haaaates..." Asmodeus said slowly drawn out, crushing something imaginary in his fist to make it more clear.

Stolas furrows his eye brows with a frown. "He does? But why?" Stolas asked, sounding curious. Blitzø has never told him anything about Fizzarolli, he never told him much about himself in general... Asmodeus shrugged. "Dunno, not my story to tell. But trust me, I would help if I could, but, I can't. Sorry." Stolas frowned, understanding, but didn't have time to say it's alright or I understand to the sin before his phone chimed with a notification, frog noise, Stolas thought.

Asmodeus stood up with a smile on his face, walking further away and opening up the chat to a video message, which he pressed on and let the phone from his hands, letting the phone magically float towards Stolas, flying past and levitating above the table, where the video message opened up in a cloud of smoke above it.

The video only opened up to reveal… An imp? This was definitely not Fizzarolli, Stolas thought. He hadn't seen him much, but he definitely remembered him at Ozzies. "Hello, Asmodeus!" The imp started, hands behind his back. He was dressed in a sharp black suit with red stripes, with a red-cravat styled tie at his neck. On top of that, he wore a fedora with holes cut out for his horns, with a striped red lining around the base.

"You don't know me, but you don't need to," The imp continued, a shit-eating grin on his face. "All you need to know is that I have your little jester here with me." The imp said, as Fizzarolli appeared in the background, being manhandled by... Stolas's eyes widened, pupils appearing and trembling for a moment before clearing his throat and calming down. His shoulder and leg particularly burned for a moment, though he wasn't sure if it was actual pain or not.

He can't hurt you, he's weaker. He wouldn't catch you off guard again. Stolas's thoughts mingled in his mind, though his heart still raced. This was Striker, no one else. He decided to focus more on the video message, and try to calm himself. Ozzie growled, trying to tear down the video message with a lunge, but only finding the smoke sifting through his fingers, the video continuing as Crimson walked around Asmodeus. "If you want him back alive, you will give me exactly what I want." The imp said, stopping and looking at the camera.

"Do you have any idea... Who you are FUCKING WITH?" Asmodeus said, his blue mane turning pink and burning brightly in flames as he raised his voice. Stolas walked around Asmodeus, speaking to him "Err.. I think it's a video recording..." Stolas said, raising a finger.

"Ya probably just asked if I knew who I'm dealing with, and oh yes, I know." The imp in the recording said, turning to the camera. "The weakest and most non-threatening of the sins. The king who will do whatever it takes to save the most worst kept secret in hell." The imp said, smile growing wider as he taunted Asmodeus who's fists were clenching. The imp walked over to Fizzarolli, who was tied up and sat down, his back against a wall. "We both know you won't risk anything happening to the clown." He said, grabbing Fizzarolli's chin and forcing him to look at him.

As the camera panned to Fizzarolli, Stolas caught a glimpse of something in his eye... Red skin with white burns... It couldn't be. Why would they be together? Blitzø hated Fizzarolli, as he had been told a couple moments ago. There was no universe in which... Stolas's eyes widened, looking at the insignia on the other captured imps forehead. The one he had carressed in the past, the one he looked at with so much sadness when they were together in bed, this... This was Blitzø.

Pupils appeared in his eyes, shaking violently as his heart started to race and race. The room becoming blurry, and his breathing becoming extremely uneven, as the unnamed imp continued. "So be a good little bitch boy, and do the thing." He said, sitting at a desk. "My lawyers will be over shortly with the contracts of demands. You have until the witching hour to sign it." He said, immediately laughing manically. "Now cut." He said, only to grow angry when the person recording did anything but. "I said cut it ya fuckin-" The recording shut out, the smoke fading and the phone falling on the table.

The room began to tremble violently as Asmodeus’s flames blazed brighter and brighter, engulfing his mane and every inch of his body in roaring fire. Stolas’s feathers darkened, shifting to deep black and blood-red hues, his form growing larger and more imposing. Clutching his head with both hands, he trembled uncontrollably, fear coursing through him. Together, their roars echoed through the building, shaking its very foundations.

 

As far as kinks go, this was one of Blitzø's favorites. Though, this was probably the wrong place, and wrong time for it. He rolled his eyes as he watched Fizz try to struggle out of his much more tied up body, his arms being more restricted by duct tape it looked like. "Oh chill out, jester. Christ on a stick, it's like you've never been tied up before." Despite saying that, Fizz still struggled against the tape, making some sounds Blitzø would have found hot if he wasn't in this situation. He sorta did. "Sure, but not by a bunch of psychos and a piece of shit!" Fizz said, falling on his face.

"Am I- Okay... Am I the psycho, or the piece of shit?" Blitzø asked, knowing the answer, but the jester still responded "Both!"

"Yeah, that checks." Blitz said, sitting down against the bars of the cage suspended in the air. I mean, a shark cage for two imps? Give him a fucking break. He might as well get comfortable while he watches this bitch get emotional about nothing. "How is this happening!? I was just supposed to get some gas station milk and rehearse some juggliiiing!"

Blitz looked at the pathetic scene, Fizz sniffling on the ground of the cage. "Oh relax, I'm sure your royal chicken ain't gonna let anything happen to his peppy little fuck doll." Blitzø said in a sarcastic tone. 

"Oh, playing that card huh? Okay... What about you?" Fizz said, getting on his knees and shuffling closer to Blitzø so he could look at him. "Seems your tastes have gotten more... 'Regal', lately." Fizz said, laughing a bit with a punchable smirk on his face. "Yeah well unlike you I fuck who I want, when I want. I'm not gonna be tied down to some blue-blood asshole." Blitz said, a frustrated look on his face.

"You coulda fooled me the way prince was cozying up to you at Ozzies." Fizz said, wrapping his tail around him and putting on puppy eyes to mock Blitzø. 

"Hey! Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his fancy ass mattress, it's nothing, you know..." Blitz inhaled, what the fuck was that feeling whenever he talked about Stolas that way?? It's not like he was wrong. Stolas was everything he hated and more. So what was that feeling in his stomach? Worse than a fucking gunshot or getting stabbed, that was for sure. "It's nothing else."

"Then why were you even there?" Fizz said, raising an eyebrow at Blitzø who was sweating now. "Oooother very important reasons of course!" Blitz straightened up. It's true, he had been there for nothing else. The very important reason was Millie and Moxxie, and to spy on their lovey-dovey asses. Some would call it stalking, but Blitzø didn't do it THAT frequently, it wasn't as bad as stalking. "Whatever, I don't actually care." Fizz turned around, trying to break at his tape, more quietly this time. "I mean Stolas is just a loud, thirsty, bitch who loves the feeling the thrill of getting dicked down by the lower class. It's a novelty to him."

Fizz didn't bother turning around. "Literally just said I don't care." 

"And THEN! He'll call me and try to see how my day was, and he'll pretend to care about me, and comment on my photos, and, laugh at my jookes..."

Fizz sat up with a grin. "Oh, that right there is your clue it's all bullshit." Fizz said, hoping his sarcasm would shine. "I know right?!?" Blitz said, clearly not picking up on it. Fizz rolled his eyes and shook his head as Blitzø continued.

"He's just a fake, privileged asshole!" Fizz got up in Blitzø's face. "Sound's like you just hate him for bein' a prince. Because no one, and I mean NO ONE, pretends to care that much for a cheap lay." Fizz grinned as he tried to get the point across through Blitzø's thick ass skull.

"Point is... Fizz stared with a deadpan expression as he continued his nonsense. "Royal demons don't give a shit about guys like us. They're all the fuckin' same." Fizz suddenly got defensive in his tone. "That's not!" He said, pausing. "A-always... true." Fizz muttered, looking away and blushing slightly. "But, I guess you're right." His smirk returned, looking at Blitzø. "They can't all be the same if SOME have taste, and SOME wanna fuck YOU."

Blitzø got defensive. "Can we talk about something other than my sex life?? Satan's taint, does fucking that lust guy make this what you're all about now??" "You brought it up asshole!" "Will you two shut the fuck up already?!" They both paused at an annoyed sounding voice from the top of the cage.

"Bicker like a couple of teen skanks..." Striker said, hopping down on some crates to the side of the cage and leaning on them towards it. "As far as I'm concerned," Striker grabbed onto the cage with velocity, making it shake. "You two are BOTH embarrassments to our kind for meddlin' with blue-bloods to begin with." Striker glared at both of them, then settled on Blitzø. "But at least loud-mouth here has the sense to only fuck his rich bitch, instead of bein' a little purse dog."

Blitz rolled his eyes. "Oh great, the fuckin' supremacist is on my side, wonderful." "Neither of you filth bags know what you're even talkin' about," Fizz started, unintentionally moving towards Striker with his back to him. "If you think you're any superior to ANYONE, then you're no better than any royal-" 

Fizz yelped quickly as he got grabbed from behind by Striker, holding him tightly against the bars of the cage by his throat. "DON'T. You. Dare, finish that sentence, clown." Striker said, ready to crush his pathetic little throat. It would be so easy to just-

"Hey! Hick-for-hire!" Crimson called out to him, stopping him in his tracks. "I said watch em', not fuck em'. Keep ya hands off the merchandise!" Striker grimaced, giving one last squeeze to Fizz's throat before pulling away and dropping down on the floor below the cage. "We got a fuckin' problem, and I need you to come help me. All you're fuckin' good for anyways." Crimson said, walking away with his hands behind his back and a cigar in his mouth as Striker begun to follow him. "Ever heard of mouthwash, FUCKFACE?!" Fizz shouted after him, him not even bothering to look back.

"Ugh, just give it the fuck up Fizz... We're gonna be here for a good fucking while." Blitzø said, resting his head on the bars. Fizz looked at Blitzø, calming down a bit from the panicking. It was true they were gonna be here for a while, so... "You look fucking sick. What? Got a case of the common cold right now?" 

"I'm fine, just heartburn, or nerves, or some shit." Blitzø responded quickly and somewhat angrily. "Uh-huh. And the shaking?" Fizz responded, deadpan. "I'M. FINE." Blitz barked, sitting up so harshly the cage rattled. Glaring at Fizz with a scowl.

Silence passed in the cage for a moment, before Fizz said quietly, sounding done with Blitzø's shit. "You think he'll come for you, don't you?" There it was. That feeling shit in his stomach again. Really, is it like a fuckin' magical spell Stolas put on him? That must have been it.

"...No, of course not." Blitz muttered, looking away. "Why the fuck would I think that of an asshole?" He swallowed. 

...But he did. 

Notes:

I really hope you enjoyed the start to this fic, and maybe are as excited to see the rest of it as I am to write it!! This is actually my first fic, but I think I've read enough to know enough about the characters and genre. It'll probably be a shorter fic, but I can't give any guarantee's on how many chapters there'll be. Considering it's my first fic, I won't go for anything big though.

This idea came to me in a dream, (not joking!), and I wondered where this small change could take the story! I tried to stay true to the scenes in this first chapter. Small changes here and there, but for the most part this first chapter is almost 100% canon with no divergence, (don't worry, the next few chapters stray a TON away from the original story.)

Anyways, I am extremely excited to see where I can take this, and I'm hoping this can open up a whole lot of possibilities of me writing in the future!

Kudos and Comments are appreciated!!! ♥♥♥

Chapter 2

Summary:

Stolas decides to take matters into his own hands while Asmodeus is stuck signing papers.

Stolas grabbed the table violently, trying to brace himself, lest he fell over entirely. His talons dug into the polished wood, leaving deep gouges. His vision collapsed inward, darkening at the edges until the room blurred into meaningless shapes. The white pupils in his ruby eyes had not diminished in the slightest, seeming to grow ever larger. 

I should have seen it- no... I should have... I- 

He gasped, but each and every breath was like a dagger, piercing his very soul. When did the walls get so close to him? He was incased as if he was in some sort of tomb, the air squeezing out of him as he was crushed.

So utterly worthless... I- I Can't even protect him...

Stolas's talons fled to his skull, threading through his feathers as he shut his eyes tight, praying for the torment to end. It didn't seem to help calm down his hammering heart, his uneven breaths, his stomach feeling sicker and sicker by the moment.

He could hardly hear the muffled noise that was to the side of him. It persisted, but had not shined even a little bit over the agonized screaming in his ears, begging for help. With that and the ringing rattling his brain, he thought he might vomit.

Stupid. Careless. Useless. 

You had let this happen.

You failed him, as you always do.

With him, and everyone else.

"Stolas."

Once again that muffled voice shot out, but it hadn't breached his mind, rattling with thoughts of what could or already had happened.

"Stolas, look at me."

A large but gentle hand rested on his shoulder, while his body flinched instinctively, he didn't register it internally. The screaming was still too loud, the walls were crushing him into nothingness. As much as he tried to flinch away, the hand was firm and unmoving.

"Hey, hey... You're spiraling, birdie. It's alright, breathe with me."

Stolas could finally hear him the tiniest bit, but as he tried, Stolas couldn't. The air wouldn't come, even if he desperately wanted it to. He shook violently, his entire frame rattling, unable to be calmed down.

"I can't-" he choked out, his voice cracking. "I-I'm so foolish... How could I let... I let him—he's going to die, because I-" His words collapsed into a sob, his eyes becoming glossy and his beak quivering as tears flowed down his face.

"Stolas." Asmodeus's voice cut through once more. "Hey, stop. Look at me."

How in gods name could he? So many things were in his vision, the tears blurring, Blitzø's face flickering across his crimson eyes like a projection, face swollen, lips bloodied, and trembling. He had been screaming for help, and the only thing that stood behind him was Striker, sharpening that angelic steel knife.

"I should've been there..." Stolas gasped, clutching at his chest. "I should've noticed, I- I should have paid closer attention..." His ribs ached even more with the attempts to breathe in air. "I-I'm useless. I can't even protect the one person I- I..." 

Stolas couldn't get the words out, the sobs were much overpowering his speaking. Even if he did say he had loved Blitzø, which he did, he knew the sentiment wasn't shared. That small chance that it maybe had been was the reason he had come here, but it seemed less and less likely as he thought about it.

"Stolas..." Asmodeus moved closer, voice slicing through the haze of thoughts and rising panic. "Listen to yourself, you're drowning. Please, breathe with me-"

"I deserve to drown!" Stolas cried, voice breaking as he stumbled back away from Asmodeus, nearly losing his footing. He held his head with both hands, threading through his spiked feathers as his tears raked his cheeks. "I always fail him... I'm never enough for anyone... I'm never..."

Asmodeus closed the distance quickly, holding Stolas' shoulders firmly as he dipped down on a knee to make eye contact.

"Stolas, enough. You ain't thinking, baby. It's the fear speaking for you. Now please, breathe with me. Just try."

Stolas trembled uncomfortably, chest heaving. "N-no... I can't.. I can't..."

Asmodeus squeezed him gently. "Relax, birdy... One breath at a time, not all at once. Just one."

Stolas tried so hard, he really did. But the moment he inhaled, his lungs clenched painfully. A strangled sob tearing out of him.

"No- I ca- I can't.. I can't do th-" 

"You can."  Asmodeus interrupted, insistent on calming Stolas down. "I'm right here. You're not alone." Asmodeus said, guiding Stolas's hands away from his head and holding them between his own. His talons were shaking so violently the room seemed to shiver with him.

"Now please, please just look at me." Asmodeus said softly, looking at Stolas with furrowed eyebrows and a frown.

Slowly, Stolas did. His eyes shimmered with panic, and flashing guilt, but he focused. Breathing in and out, raspy, but taking one at a time. Tears slowly started fading from his red eyes, along with the white pupils that appeared whenever he had strong emotions. The room returned to normal, the images in his head fading, and the screaming in his ears dying out. 

"That's it..." Asmodeus murmured. "There you are, baby." 

Stolas sagged forwards. His breaths were still uneven, but they no longer hurt to inhale, not like the sharp pain he had felt earlier. His shaking legs gave out, and he fell against Asmodeus's chest. "I-I'm sorry..." Stolas trembled against him. "I'm so... Gods, I shouldn't have... I didn't... I'm so sorry..."

Asmodeus frowned, letting Stolas lean on him and guiding him to sit on a chair, the same chair and table they had started their meeting at. He looked at Stolas, still shivering and trying to wipe his tears away frantically, not wanting to show weakness at all. Asmodeus winced, it reminded him a bit of his own childhood. Being the weakest, Asmodeus was always pushed around by his siblings, especially Mammon. He hated to admit that green piece of shit was stronger than him, and that he couldn't do a single goddamn thing about Fizz's contract. Fizz wouldn't let him even if he did try, anyways.

Stolas tried to compose himself as well as possible, but his talons would not stop trembling in his lap. "I shouldn't be seen like this..." He murmured. "I'm a mess... I'm worthless. I-"

His breath hitched, tears welling again. He could only lean forward, sobbing into his hands as his face got increasingly soaked from crying, his feathers flattened and limp. Asmodeus only sat across from him, waiting with an understanding expression.

After a few minutes, the sobbing stopped. Stolas sniffled, looking down. His shoulders hunched like he was trying to fold in on himself. He looked so small. Despite his height, despite his title, despite everything. He looked much unlike the confident and regal prince he had pretended to be all these years.

"I apologize for having to see me like that." He said, sitting up slowly and wiping a tear from his eye. His two sets of eyes looked swollen now, extremely strained from crying so hard. 

Asmodeus shook his head frantically. "You shouldn't have to apologize, sugar. That looked like some traumatic shit."

Stolas giggled a tiny bit, forcing a smile and looking up at Asmodeus. "Thank you... For, this." 

Stolas had thought Asmodeus was just another sin, one who would not care about anything other than his business, money, and title. He was much more than that, Stolas now saw. If it was possible for a being to be this strong, but also this kind, how come his family hadn't? How come he'd get beaten, or slapped on the back of the head, or be told to cease his 'bitch crying' for every little mistake he made? How come he was forced to marry despite being only ten, and have his entire life already chosen for him from the beginning? How come he was punished for trying to make his already chosen family work? For trying to give his daughter a normal life?

The truth was, Stolas deserved it. He deserved every last little thing happening to him. Had he been a normal goetia, his life would have been going fine right now. Every little choice he made led him to this miserable existence, every miscalculation, every tear, and every slap. He had proclaimed a holy weapon one day, and he would've done it. One click, and it would have all been over. Done with. A pathetic mistake like him didn't really deserve to have any reason to live, anyways.

...Other than Blitzø. 

Blitzø. That's right. Blitzø. How had he forgotten?

He wiped away the last of his tears, though stains still were riddled on his face and throughout his feathers, his eyes still swollen. 

Stolas stood, his legs still shaking a tiny bit, his knees almost giving out beneath him. "I need to... I need to go, I need to... He's still out there... He could be-" Stolas grasped at his head again, pulling at his feathers to try to even out his thoughts.

"Stolas." Asmodeus said, standing over him and looking down at him. "You're not thinking straight, just sit down again, take a second."

Stolas was opening his mouth to argue, to get angry at Asmodeus for not wanting to go sooner, but... He could admit when he was wrong. He slowly walked back over to the table, sitting down.

Asmodeus stood in front of him. "You aren't useless." Asmodeus said, frowning. Stolas only looked away, at the floor, at anything other than the thing in front of him, his pupils showing really where he was looking. He was useless, he was nothing more than a pile of sh-

Stolas's eyes widened as Asmodeus grabbed his face, gently but firmly, forcing him to meet his eyes. "You are not useless, Stolas. We'll get them back. Just think for a moment, okay birdy?"

His breath finally evened out, composed now. He nodded. "Okay... I believe you." He said, his voice still a murmur. 

Asmodeus smiled. He was doing this more for Fizz than he was Stolas and Blitzø, but... Something about seeing the owl finally calm down after so much convincing made him happy. He was still angry about Fizz, but seeing the bird calm down made him calm down a little too. 

"You can see him, right? Something in your eyes tell me this has happened before."

Stolas nodded without saying a word, thinking back to the last time he had a panic attack like that. It was when he was bathing, popping a bubble to check on how he was doing. Cornered, at gunpoint, no one to help him. He was about to die. Stolas took a minute before possessing the souls down there, it had always been easy to do that with humankind. Their minds were so easy to manipulate, to enter.

Stolas focused, opening the grimoire with magic and flipping to a page as he closed his eyes. Images of constellations floated from the grimoire, glowing a bright purple. Most of the constellations were known, like Scorpius and Ares, but one changed in a particular bright light, floating higher than all the other ones and reshaping itself quickly. First, it had gone to a figure holding what looked to be a knife, zero features on it. Then, it shifted to a figure holding a cigar, and then... 

Asmodeus's eyes widened. "There! There they are!" He said urgently, causing Stolas to open his eyes and focus on the image, making it bigger and clearer. More than just a constellation now, a full image of what it was. A warehouse, green sky above, sharks guarding the front gates and side entrances, along with the roof. Inside, two imps sit in a cage, one with completely white skin, and one with splotches of white...

Stolas knew this was where this was. Where he was.

There was still time, how much of it? That was the thing Stolas didn't know.

Stolas stared at the image hovering over the grimoire, the purple hue reflecting in all four of his eyes. "There." He said, voice trembling slightly, talons curling on the edge of the table. "He's still alive... They're still alive... Thank lucifer..." The relief in his voice was extremely present. They now knew where they were, and more importantly that they were safe. They could do this. 

Stolas had fumbled with the grimoire as the door opened without warning, rushing to close the spell. When he successfully did so with a poof of all the magic in the air fading to a purple smoke, they looked to see who it was who had just opened it. A... Shark? Greed shark, no doubt, but he was small, smaller than most greed sharks. His skin was colored grey, with a suitcase in his hand. He was wearing what looked to be an expensive suit. "Mister, uuhhhh...." He took out a small sheet of paper from the his pocket, putting on reading glasses and squinting his eyes. "Auzz...Modeyus." He said, butchering the name entirely.

Oh right... The lawyer he sent over. They had completely forgotten about that. 

Asmodeus blinked slowly, looking at the shark with a deadpan expression. "...Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

The shark looked between the two demons, he was clearly pretty old, and well... Slow. This was going to be grueling. He didn't show any change in his facial structure as he looked at Stolas's panic-wrecked face, or Asmodeus's barely contained rage, the flames on his mane nearly reaching the roof.

He cleared his throat, shuffling his papers that he had in his free hand, suitcase in the other. "I've been sent from the..." His eyes squinted as if they were reading something, and he continued as if that were the case. "Greed Law Firm... These contracts are to be signed without hesitation... Uh... This is disputing a... Mr Fi... Fiz... Uuuhh...." He said, with excruciating slowness and a monotone voice.

He squinted harder, angling the paper, like that would help him read.

"Fizzyrolly."

Ozzie's eye twitched.

Stolas raised an eyebrow.

"It's Fizzarolli." Asmodeus snapped. "And you're about five seconds away from GETTING PUNTED BACK TO GREED IN A LUNCHBOX!" He said, flames growing brighter and voice becoming distorted as he towered over the shark.

How the shark didn't even react a little bit surprised Stolas. Was it just... Not being scared? Or was it old age? Probably that one. At least Blitzø wasn't on the contract, Crimson probably didn't even know the imp had any relationship with Stolas.

…Even if that relationship was, well, not really a relationship.

A couple minutes later, they found themselves in the back of Asmodeus's office, watching as the shark sat behind the desk and opened up his suitcase, many of the papers falling out because of how overstuffed it was. Most of the papers that fell had Crimson's family crest stamped onto them, and the lawyer just shoved those papers under the table with a whistle, collecting the paper that had a "Greed Law Firm" stamp on it and placing it on the desk.

Stolas didn't exactly own the greed ring, not even close. But come on, really? The "Greed Law Firm"???? He didn't know if the shark nor Crimson had any idea of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.

He was running out of time. The more seconds he took here reviewing these stupid made up contracts, so many present that if he wasn't there he was sure Asmodeus would just get bored and sign them without looking, the more Blitzø might have been hurt, tortured... Stolas shivered once again.

Leaning over to Asmodeus, he whispered: "Could you please read these over and not sign anything without making sure you understand it?" He talked to Asmodeus like a child, but frankly being a sin didn't mean you were proficient at paperwork. He just needed him to buy time. "And don't sign anything. Seriously. Do. Not." 

Asmodeus nodded, crossing his arms as if he was a bored teenager. 

Stolas spoke up, out of a whispering voice. "Alright, well. It has been fun, but I must go. My wife is expecting me back." Stolas said, hoping that would serve as a good enough excuse to leave. If anything, he would NOT want to go to his wife after this. He didn't say anything to Asmodeus as he left, knowing Asmodeus was counting on him. He gulped, shaking slightly, but quickly correcting it. He needed to be strong for this.

As he stepped through the portal he had created, he took one last look at Asmodeus. He was in for a long day, Stolas thought. They both were. The portal closed behind him. As he entered the other side, a green sky above him, overlooking a warehouse, he knew. He knew he'd get them back, whatever it took.

---

Striker sharpened his angelic steel knife, making it extra sharp. He loved the screams as it tore into people, but the more important part was efficiency. Truth was, he was bored. Real, real fuckin' bored. At least those fuckin' disgraces shut up finally, looked like the mouthy one was sleeping. Was that even a good descriptor? They were both fuckin' mouthy. Didn' matter which one. 

All this time waiting allowed himself to realize just how stupid this all actually was. At first he thought it might be fun, 'shake down some royalty', as Crimson had said so vaguely. So, naturally, he thought it would be someone low ranking. Maybe an earl goetia, that woulda made sense, right? He wished Crimson actually noticed the look on his face when he was told it was motherfuckin' Asmodeus he stole from.

He didn' know what Crimson was actually expecting of him, kill a sin? Did he mean the one that'd been around since the start of hell? Sure, he was the weakest, but it didn' mean he was fuckin' weak! This is all not even mentioning he'd lost his goddamn holy weapons when he was attacked by that sex fiend and his lil' girlie. He could only grab his knife and one gun before he retreated, which wouldn't work against the thing that could blast him out of existence with a blink. He missed that damn lasso.

But the pay was good. Really good. Probably the best he'd ever gotten, even more than that whore. Order to kill someone, then you call off at the last minute, not even paying a good amount for it. It was a joke. The worst part was that it was a blue-blood he was workin' for. He musta been fuckin' drunk when he decided that.

All the contracts were shoddy, too, and they sent an old ass rasin to sort them out. He was sure Asmodeus wasn't stupid enough to sign those, not in the slightest. So best case scenario, Asmodeus somehow signs it and they get to keep the jesters head on a wall, which would still make him come after them considering there was nothing saying they could control him. Worst case scenario, he comes here, destroys the entire warehouse with a flick of his fingers, along with annihilating everyone in it, while still gettin' his peppy little purse dog.

He was a hired gun, but he frequently questioned the smarts of the people who hired him. Still, like he said before, the pay was good. So he followed Crimson like a puppy dog, and did as he was told. Even if he could kill every last shark and imp in that fuckin' warehouse without breaking a sweat.

A loud, guttural snore came from inside the cage, and Strikers eye twitched. Of course. "Wake the fuck up! Ain' no time for a snooze-fest!" 

Blitzø slowly woke up, smacking his lips. "Uughhh... If you're gonna kidnap us at least get us some fuckin pillows, this blows." Blitzø said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "And another thing, where's my coffee?? Zero fucking stars."

Striker dragged his blade down the whetstone, slowly this time as if he was trying to prove a point. "I should really get paid extra for havin' to listen with your bullshit." He muttered.

Blitzø pressed his face against the bars "Wow, customer service really IS dead..."

Fizz groaned. "Nice one spurs for brains, you got him awake. I was intent on being quiet, but now you fucked us all." He said, looking at Blitzø who was now gnawing on the bars with his teeth, as if that would do anything.

Striker's eye twitched so hard it damn near riddled his entire jaw. He pointed the sharpened holy blade towards Blitzø. "If you don't shut your mouth, I'll make sure ya don't need sleep ever again."

Blitzø smirked. "Damn, already getting kinky on me?" Blitzø's smile grew even wider. "Because, I mean, really. I've had bowel movements scarier than this."

Striker's hand rested on his worn gun holster, but he took a long and slow breath through his nose, settling on resting it on his lap instead.

Fuckin' Satan, he shoulda chosen the other job—the one where he only hadda kill an overconfident incubus and burn down a strip club. Easy money. But nooo, of course he had to have dollars in his eyelids, and now he was babysittin'  the most insufferable, ADHD ridden imp he'd ever had the displeasure of meeting, in a damp warehouse, while waitin' to get demolished by a sin.

Yeah, this was a fuckin' great place to be right now. At least the jester wasn't speaking.

Blitzø had the most shit-eating grin on his face, while Fizz just sat there with a deadpan expression.

"Really stellar gig you got here, cowbell. Bet your mama's proud." 

Striker didn't pay him any attention, yet his teeth clenched so hard his jaw popped.

Blitzø just cackled, kicking his feet against the bars like it was a fucking carnival ride. "Come on Strakeer, you're killing the fuckin vibe. At least toss in a radio or something, maybe some snacks. Or—ooohh, maybe one of those little minty things you get at really nice restaurants?"

Striker turned the knife around in his palm. Maybe stabbin' himself in the leg would get him out of this. Blitzø was starting to give him a fuckin' migraine. "Satan above... I swear, if he weren't worth more alive... I don't even fuckin' know why we're keepin' you."

Blitzø gasped dramatically, he would have put a hand to his chest if he wasn't still tied up. As much as he once again did like this kink, it was starting to cut off oxygen a little bit. He was pretty used to the feeling, though. "Woow, objectification?? And you ain't even buying me dinner first."

Blitzø was laughing like a maniac. Striker rubbed his temple so hard he was sure he'd leave a dent. Every single waking second in this warehouse felt like a punishment, for every sin he'd ever committed, or thought about committing, or might commit someday.

Striker sneered, scanning the warehouse to make sure Crimson wasn't round', before lowering himself from the top of the cage, boots clanking against the metal as he landed on the edge of the cage.

Before Fizz, the closer one of the two, could react, Striker pulled out his knife and carved across his face.

Fizz fell backwards on his ass with a strangled cry, cursing as he clutched his cheek and groaning in pain as he pulled his hand away from the wound, only to find his hands completely covered in black. 

Blitzø's grin immediately faltered, followed by a genuine worried frown on his face. It was quickly overshadowed by anger. "FUCKING COWBOY PIECE OF SHIT!" 

He lunged at Striker, who was in front of the cage. His arms were bound, sure, but he still had his teeth, and by fucking Satan he was biting off that hillbilly's fingers one by one.

He had confirmed that was easier said than done as a heeled boot drove between the bars, slamming into Blitzø's ribs with a crack that echoed in the warehouse. He hit the floor hard, clutching at his chest and wheezing for air.

"What I wouldn' give to crawl in there and finish the job proper." Striker glared at them, a malicious smile on his face. "What's wrong, 'Blitzy'? Don' got any comebacks now?" He chuckled lowly as his tail lashed around.

Striker's grin widened as no response came, only the groaning of both Fizz and Blitzø. "Real fuckin' shame," Striker twirled the angelic blade in his hand. "You two ain't half bad when your mouths are shut. Almost tolerable." 

Blitzø just bared his teeth at Striker, spitting up black on the floor of the cage. "Fuck you."

"Oh? Sounds like jester here wants to go for another injury. I can gladly grant that request." Striker said, leaning in with his blade once more. Fizz shielded his face, but just as Striker was about to strike, his communicator buzzed in his pocket.

A guttural groan was let out of Striker's throat as he answered it. "Yello? Yeeaahhh, sure boss. Uh-huh. Yup, be riight there." Striker inhaled, looking up at the roof as he closed his eyes and threw the communicator against the wall, shattering it. He'd just get a new one.

"Yeah! Run! Fuckin pussy! Can't even finish the job, working for a rat!" Blitzø yelled after him as he dropped down, only sneering and not bothering to look back at them when he walked away, his tail lashing like a whip.

Satan, he needed to get paid a shit ton more for this.

 

Blitzø turned to sit with his head on the bars. He clutched his chest, feeling the broken rib. He'd had them before, this wasn't any different. 

As he turned over to look at Fizz who's knees were drawn up to his chest, Fizz averted his gaze, putting his face in his knees, trembling. The gash across his face wasn't small, looked like it dug into bone, and it was burning. Angelic steel was made to kill royalty, so using it on a fucking imp? Way overkill. 

"That uh..." Blitzø gulped. He felt anxious to continue. "You... You okay?" He said tentatively, taking his time.

"Oh, yeah. Just fucking dandy. I'm in a cage with my worst enemy, one who just ticked off a inbred dickwad so much that he put a gauge in my fucking face. I'm great." Fizz just tucked his face further into his knees, his hands stretching around his entire body. "Just fuck off."

The silence was really loud as Blitzø took that in, his chest tightening with pain. He couldn't tell if it was from his cracked ribs, or from Fizz. Not like he didn't deserve it, obviously. It was silent for a while, Blitzø alone with his thoughts even if Fizz was right there.

Why was Fizz even here? He didn't deserve this. Blitzø deserved this. He deserved to get kidnapped, punched, spat on. All the shit he's done had his karma in the dumps, so why was Fizz here? Didn't seem fucking fair.

He'd been the one that caused that fire, and yet Fizz was the one who got all of his skin burned off, his horns splintered from an explosion. Blitzø walked away with what? A couple blotches of white skin? 

Blitzø opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. 

"I..." He started, his voice cracking a little bit. "If that cut gets infected I mean- You could, uh..." He trailed off, not knowing how to finish the thought without sounding pathetic. "...It could get worse."

Fizz didn't even lift his head, he didn't move a single fraction. "What part of 'fuck off' do you not understand??" He said, voice muffled by his knees. 

Yeah... Blitzø probably did need to learn that sayings meaning. 

Notes:

Had to redo most of this chapter, I really wasn't happy with it... Can't say that won't happen for any future chapters, but I'll try to make sure to revise my work more often. 😓😓😓

Aside from that, I must say that I love writing angst. Like I said, it's my first fic, but... Something about it is so fun. Wasn't particularly bad angst, but don't worry, that'll come later.

I was hoping I got the panic attack semi right in the first part of this chapter. I did a shit ton of research on the subject beforehand, and I wanted to make it look somewhat realistic while also having a bit of that Helluva Boss over exaggeration.

Hopefully I won't have to rewrite any more chapters!! I have the general overlay of this fic down now, and It'll take a bit for the next chapter to get out, but I hope you all will enjoy it.

Kudos and comments are appreciated!!!! ♥♥♥♥♥♥