Chapter Text
Blitz dreamt about her. He dreamt she was skin and bone, blood and sweat, fragile and finite, easily ripped to shreds by his bullet or claws or teeth.
“You are so… small. I don’t know what I expected. You really aren’t much to look at. I mean, obviously you’d be easy to manhandle… but the whole…” she gestured up and down, sighed, “I cannot begin to fathom what he sees in you. I have always found imps rather gross, but you really—there’s something... even worse about you. Repugnant. Like shame is… rolling off of you in waves.”
He dreamt she wasn’t hell born, that when he killed her, she was gone. That he banished her to a realm that didn’t allow his (or even Stolas’) kind. She circled him, tsking.
“In my husband’s chambers. Yet again. How pitiful. Of course I was mad at first, but now it’s just… sad. It’s that old trolley chestnut. On one hand, I could crush you myself. Rip your little imp prick off—which honestly might be more of a health hazard for myself than anything—and on the other, I could just sit back and… wait ... for you to get crushed. I could let you continue to fuck my husband until this plays out exactly the way we all know it will.”
In heaven, she would be far away. Unable to reach him… unable to hurt him. A fantasy at best, the beast before him was fire and brimstone, sulfur and salt, sin and pain, just like him. Even in the deepest pits of hell, she could still find him.
“Even if he clawed his way out from under his mountain of shame… there’d be nothing left to love. He doesn’t know who he is without the weight of his grief—and neither do you. There’s nothing to know. He’s a hollow, greedy shell. He’ll take, and take, and take everything you could possibly give him and once you have given all you can... he’ll cast you aside and find someone who can give him more.”
He’d never be rid of her.
Blitz didn’t know how he got here. She wasn’t supposed to be home, he knew that much—Stolas had promised that much. When Blitz had shoved his beak full of fingers to try and fail to shut him the fuck up (it only made him moan louder ), between grunts and knuckles, Stolas had managed to tongue out that she isn’t due home for hours, Blitz, we can make all the noise we want, dear, no one will ever know.
The fact that she had caught him and this was how she played it? Some freaky psychological mind game? Maybe she had some spell on him and he didn’t realize, because every fiber of his being was screeching, begging him to bolt, but he was frozen under her beady stare.
“If he ever gathered the strength to step out of the closet in broad daylight… do you really think it would be for you? Did you think you were his first jaunt outside his marriage? Did you honestly think there weren’t little play things around before? Or did you perhaps think... you would be the last? Even if he somehow clawed his way out, all that awaits him is the judgement of every single demon he’s ever known for stooping so low as to cheat on his loving, dedicated wife, the mother of his only child… with a filthy, little imp.”
Prejudice didn’t hurt him, when you lived in hell you got used to that kinda thing. There’d always be some bonehead out there who thought he was worth less than everyone else based solely on the fact that he was an imp. But Blitz had built himself, re built himself, many times over. His dreams had been dashed, he’d been left to drown, and he’d clawed his way back to the surface with new ideas already spilling through his bared teeth. He knew what he was and he knew all he could be—but it was like she knew what still had the power to hurt him. Like it was written all over his face.
She leaned in close, he pressed further into the wall, if that was even possible. He squeezed his eyes shut, and kicked himself internally for showing any weakness—for letting her win even a little.
“The saddest thing of all is that deep down you hope that maybe... you are enough for him. But you never have been, and you never will be. And it’s not just him.”
She cupped his face in one of her huge hands— the way her husband might —but what followed the familiar gesture stood out in stark contrast,
“You will never be good enough for anyone. You will always end up… all… alone .”
When he opened his eyes, she was gone, like she hadn’t occupied his entire field of vision just moments before. He wondered for a second if he had been seeing things in his exhausted state. The lingering chill up his spine told him differently.
She would always find him.