Chapter Text
“Name?”
“Stolas."
Blitzø bit the lid off a black marker. Without looking up at the customer, he scribbled “Stolus” onto the paper cup he was holding. Weird ass name, he thought.
The demon in front of him slid some cash across the counter, before thanking him and gracefully gliding away. Blitzø stared absentmindedly as he did. He was extremely tall, easily towering over the imp. He definitely wasn't a species of demon Blitzø had ever seen, with perfectly preened grey feathers and four glowing red eyes.
He wasn't the only one staring, apparently. A glance around the café and he could see everyone else's eyes locked onto the bird demon. Either because he was terrifying, or because he was beautiful; Blitzø couldn't really decide which side he was on himself.
His thoughts were disturbed by Millie slamming her hands onto the counter and gasping, “What in the world is a prince doin’ in our shop?”
One of their other coworkers elbowed her in the side in an attempt to get her to quiet down, but she swatted them away. Blitzø handed Stolus's cup to them before turning his attention to Millie.
“What are you going on about?”
“The prince!” she exclaimed, gesturing towards the set of tables in the middle of the shop. The bird had taken a seat and was absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.
Blitzø paused. He stared intently at the bird, trying to see if he recognized them at all. “What?”
Millie scoffed. “Blitz, you’re joking.”
He didn’t particularly care about the royal family. Much less Lucifer’s cousins twice removed, or whoever the fuck this demon was meant to be. But, he guessed that made sense - that was probably why everyone was gawking at the bird, and why said bird looked so...well, pretty. In a terrifying, eldritch kind of way.
Millie looked at him expectantly. Blitzø sighed.
“M, do I look like I keep up with that shit?”
“He’s an Ars Goetia,” she explained, as if it would help him at all.
Blitzø definitely could not pronounce that, and Millie was probably butchering it with her southern accent. What did she know about royalty, anyway?
"He comes 'round Wrath every year for a festival!"
Oh, okay.
Millie planted her elbows onto the counter and placed her cheeks in her hands. She gazed intently at the Ars Goetia. That was definitely kind of creepy, but Blitzø couldn't exactly throw any stones from his glass house.
After a moment, his name was called, and the demon prince came to collect his drink. Blitzø found himself watching as he walked away. He took a sip of his drink, cautious and dainty, as he sat back down at his table. He glanced down at his cup, reading the label before laughing to himself. Blitzø didn't know what was so funny.
“Shouldn’t he have security, or somethin’?” Millie chimed.
Blitzø rolled his eyes. “He can’t be that important.”
Evidently, they were both wrong. There was no shortage of people who wanted to kill the prince, but he definitely did not need security.
Now, Blitzø was used to some violence within the shop. Robberies he didn’t try to stop, fights he didn’t break up – it was Hell, after all. If things got bloody, he'd just mop it up and move on with his shift.
But things were different with the prince. He began to frequent the café, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing; Blitzø enjoyed looking at the eye candy while on the job. What he didn’t expect was a front row seat to various assassination attempts.
Multiple imps and sinners tried, all failed. Typically, all it took was a blink of those four red eyes, and the assassin was turned to stone. The prince would sigh and watch them crumble into pieces before cleaning up the mess with a glowing blue portal. A portal in which Blitzø could only assume led to an endless abyss or something.
There was an instance where the prince took another approach. With a knife lodged in his arm, he took the small head of an imp in his hands and twisted. There was a loud snap before the imp fell to the floor, and the bird yanked the knife out of his flesh.
There wasn’t much blood. It must take more than an average blade to truly injure demon royalty, but Blitzø didn’t know anything about that. The prince, however, looked mildly disinterested about the entire ordeal.
His demeanor shifted completely once he noticed Blitzø staring at him. He shrunk into his chair, almost looking sheepish as he mumbled an apology. With a flick of his wrist, the corpse was sucked into another portal.
After killing someone and then disposing of the body, the bird demon shot him an embarrassed smile and continued to type away on his phone.
Well. That made Blitzø scared, horny, and confused.
When he went home that day, he spent his whole evening researching; at least, he called it “research”. His investigation primarily consisted of stalking the avian's social media accounts and trying to figure out who the hell the Ars Goetia were.
The days passed and turned into weeks. He still couldn't comprehend Hell's hierarchy, but there was other things he did learn. The prince, "Stolas", taught him how to write his name down properly - though, Stolas did allow that misspelling to go on for a couple weeks too long. Millie insisted it was because the prince was kind and had a soft spot for him, even when the voice in the back of Blitzø's head considered that it might have been a weird, elaborate way of embarrassing him.
He also learned that Stolas always stopped by the shop on a Wednesday. Sometimes with just his phone to scroll through, sometimes with a laptop. Blitzø wondered what exactly he could be working on on his laptop. Royalty didn't have jobs, did they? Or, at the very least, Stolas should have an employee that could do all that writing for him.
And then there was Stolas' order. The same drink every week: a cappuccino. Which were disgusting, in Blitzø's book. Too bitter and warm and blegh. But, it did fit Stolas' personality.
At least, what little of Stolas’ personality that he knew. He knew he liked cappuccinos, had freaky magic, and laughed at Blitzø's poor grammar. He was…confusing, to say the least. But that was okay. Blitzø would figure him out, somehow.
Two Wednesdays passed, and Stolas is nowhere to be seen. Blitzø pretended not to notice.
Then, three Wednesdays passed, and a different bird demon walks into the café. Nothing stood out about them, at first - they walked in with their head down and a hoodie draped over themselves. But once they got to the counter, Blitzø caught their piercing red eyes. They were smaller in stature compared to Stolas, but shared the same grey feathers and same pale white face.
"Can I get, um..." their red gaze flickered to the menu behind Blitzø, "A cappuccino?"
Okay. Same accent, but the mystery bird had a smaller voice.
"That's it?" Blitzø asked.
"Yeah, I guess."
Same boring ass order. "What size?"
Their small interaction appeared to be going on for longer than they wanted it to. They pulled at the hem of their hoodie. "I don't know...a small? Whatever you call that here," they sighed. "He doesn't really need that much caffeine, anyway. He hardly sleeps."
Well, that was more than Blitzø asked and more than he needed to know. Though, it did grant him some valuable information - that the cappuccino was for someone else.
He picked up a small paper cup and twirled his marker in his hand. "Name?"
"Octavia."
Blitzø nodded. The taller demon handed him a credit card; gold, shiny, and definitely not theirs. He took note of that.
He slid the card into the reader before placing it onto the counter. The demon retrieved it and stuffed into into their jacket pocket. Blitzø thought he might have heard a tiny "thanks" slip out of their beak, but he wasn't sure. They scurried away shortly after.
When he got home, he scrolled through Stolas' voxtagram. He hadn't posted in a few weeks now, but he had been tagged in some posts. Specifically, posts by some shady news accounts.
Divorce between Stolas and Stella Goetia finalized - sharing custody of their daughter, Octavia Goetia -
Oh, fuck.
Another week passed before Stolas finally made an appearance. Blitzø had to hide his excitement.
Or, well. He tried to hide his excitement. The air in the shop was cold, but he felt his face heat up as Stolas waltzed towards the counter. The prince smiled sweetly at him, as he always did, but he looked tired.
"Hello, Blitz," he said, quiet and a bit hoarse. Blitzø thought to ask if he was okay, but decided against it. Stolas ordered his usual drink and then dug through his coat for his money. They were both silent as he did so.
However, Blitzø could not stop his mouth from running. Of course not. "Do you have a daughter?" he blurted out.
That was a stupid question. He knew the answer to that already. Why did he say that?
Stolas paused his motions. He raised a brow, "...Yes?"
Blitzø felt his stomach twist and turn. "I just - I thought I saw her come in here, like, a week ago."
Stolas narrowed his eyes in confusion. Blitzø quickly realized that what he said probably sounded creepy.
“She looks like you. And she got one of those boring ass cappuccinos you always get.” Quick save, with an additional insult. The best way to a man's heart.
Stolas seemed surprised. He opened his beak open and then shut, struggling to find words. “I’m flattered you pay that much attention to me,” he managed. It was most likely meant to come out smoother, but whatever charm and mystique the bird had in previous weeks was apparently gone.
"You're hard to miss." Blitzø meant for that comment to be laced with sarcasm. Instead, it came out meek and genuine. Shit.
Stolas giggled like a schoolgirl, but didn't say anything in response.
”I have a daughter, too,” Blitzø said. He mentally cursed at himself for prolonging this conversation, but he couldn't stop himself, either.
”Oh, you do?” Blitzø blessed Satan for Stolas' pale face, because he could easily see how the bird blushed. He was doing something right, then. The imp nodded.
“How old is she?”
”21. She’s adopted. I’m not that old. Or, I wasn’t a teen dad, or something. You know. She’s…” Blitzø was still not immune to word vomit. He really didn't need to be explaining any of this.
He took a deep breath, ”Yeah. Anyway.”
”Well, that’s sweet.” Stolas responded. He looked down and fiddled with his fingers, “So, you and your partner…”
"Oh, no. Uh. I don’t have one.” he specified.
Stolas titled his head to the side in curiosity. His red eyes urged Blitzø to continue.
”One day I woke up and just decided I wanted to be dad. I don't know.” Well, he did know. At least a little bit. He was lonely and too exhausted to search for connection with anyone romantically or platonically, so he turned to fatherhood - but he wasn't about to admit that.
Stolas didn't seemed too concerned with whatever Blitzø's reasoning was. He seemed thrilled either way, beaming at Blitzø like he was the only demon in the room.
Unfortunately, he was not.
“Would you two shut the fuck up?”
Blitzø glared at the customer in line behind Stolas. Before he could retort, Stolas apologized. "Sorry, I should..." he trailed off, back to digging through his coat. He pulled out a few dollars and handed them over to Blitzø.
Blitzø very delibrerately made sure their hands grazed each other when the cash was exchanged.
Stolas cleared his throat. "I'll...see you later, Blitz. Thank you."
Blitzø didn't really know what he was thanking him for, but he was gone within a second. He watched as the prince took his usual seat in a dark corner of the shop.
It was already dangerous for him to be attracted to royalty. That would never work out - Stolas was way out of his league, in multiple ways. But what was even more dangerous was getting himself involved in whatever mess Stolas had going on with his ex-wife.
And yet, newly-divorced-dad-of-emo-daughter was even hotter than the mysterious and deadly eldritch prince that first walked into the shop a couple months ago.
Blitzø might have been getting a little old, judging by his taste in men. But he certainly wasn't any less reckless.
He’d made worse decisions in his life, anyway.