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The Celebrations We Steal
“If you try to touch me and I don’t like it, I’ll bite your dick off.”
The van doesn’t swerve. The weird imp that apparently decided to adopt Loona shortly before she could make her escape via aging out of the system just… laughs, a cackling, maniacal sound as he grins across the dash at her. Loona debates pointing out that he ran over some stupid sinner while doing so, but decides against it as he blurts out, “That’s my daughter!”
“You are fucking weird.” Loona sighs, relaxing back in her seat. “Also gay as hell, yeah? That or an actual pedo.”
“I will kiss anyone who seems interesting enough, thank you very much.” Blitz raises one hand. “But not my daughter! That is a precious bond, not to be sullied.”
“Really fucking weird.” Loona can’t help smiling, though, Blitz’s manic energy winning her over despite herself.
“Well, this fucking weirdo is going to take you somewhere nice to celebrate your being sprung from that place.” Blitz shudders. “What the hell is that, anyway? Can’t decide if it’s a prison or a dog pound or an orphanage and manages to be the worst of all three.”
“Hey, you were the one trawling there for…” Loona eyes him speculatively. “A secretary ?”
“Yeah.” Blitz bares his teeth. “I am the founder of the imp-run and imp-owned assassination service I.M.P., and I would like you to be my secretary!”
“But I’m not an imp…?” Loona scratches at her chin, hoping she didn’t catch fleas again.
“No, you’re not. You are my daughter, at least for another month.” Blitz pulls into a slower lane, giving Loona more looks. “When you’re eighteen, you can go wherever you want. I’m not gonna keep you prisoner. But if you could help me get this business a little more off the ground, well, I can send you off with a little more fanfare.”
“You’re paying me?” Loona’s mouth drops open in surprise.
“Yeah? Of course?” Blitz looks at her like she just said something stupid. “You’re working, you get paid. You’re my daughter, not my slave.”
“You keep saying that, but I’m…” Loona growls low in her throat. “I mean, we both know what I am.”
“A wonderful young hellhound that I am going to watch grow into the most precious woman in the world.” Blitz puffs out his chest, and what looks like an actual tear gleams in his eye.
“You are so—”
“Fucking weird,” they say in unison, and Loona finds herself laughing along with Blitz despite herself.
She didn’t want to be adopted. She’d been counting down the days until she could leave; until she’d belong to herself, and not whoever had the strength or stupidity to try to tame her.
But maybe spending just the last thirty-two days of her legal limbo with this weirdo won’t be so awful.
***
Blitz runs through clouded streets, choking on the mist.
Because it isn’t mist. It’s smoke. It’s always smoke, and it will always come to seek him out.
But he can stay ahead of the flames. He can keep from getting burned again, at least.
Except something looms out of the mist in front of him. A figure, familiar and terrible; too tall by far, because no matter how big Blitz gets, he never outgrows the spectre of his father.
A spectre that looms forward out of the smoke- mist. “You think you can be a father? You can’t even be a good son.”
“I’m a better father than you!” Blitz retreats even as he spits out the words, his father looming so, so, so tall, taller than he has any right to.
The old man laughs, and raises a hand—to hit Blitz or to slap his knee in mirth, it’s always impossible to tell until the moment to act in self defense has already passed.
This time there’s no blow, but his father does come closer. Drives Blitz back into the thickest of the smoke-mist, and the crackling fire.
“She’s going to leave,” the old man whispers the words like a secret. “She’s going to leave, and you’re going to deserve it.”
Blitz turns and runs.
He’s fast. He’s even more acrobatic then he was when he studied with the circus. He can dodge the fire.
But he can’t. The flames are too high. They form shapes—shadow arms that reach for him. Skin bubbles beneath the flames, and an achingly familiar child’s voice calls out, “Blitzo! Blitzo!”
Nowhere to go.
Fire on one side, violence on the other, shadows ringing them in, forcing them together—impossible to leap, impossible to climb, though Blitz tries anyway, his fingers sinking into darkness.
But darkness is never allowed to stay just darkness. It always transmutes into choking smoke, and Blitz falls towards the hungry flames, towards their open arms that yearn for him, that tasted him once and have never forgotten —
And collides hard with the floor.
A dream.
A nightmare, but still just a dream.
Blitz kicks until the blanket comes loose from around him, and then scrambles to his feet. Huffing out a breath, he kicks the foot of the bed, and then hops around the room cursing under his breath as his toes throb.
Stupid bed.
Stupid dream.
Stupid clock saying it’s only 3:31 in the morning, and so he would be an absolute dick of a father if he just started cursing and woke Loona up.
Might drive her away from him faster than he already likely has been.
Tomorrow is her eighteenth birthday. She’ll be free to go, just like he told her; just like she should have been free from the start. But if Blitz wanted the ability to adopt again, he had to at least make a pretense of caring for Loona until she came of age.
Not that he’s been caring for her due to pretense. She deserved better, and even if the shabby apartment he’s able to afford for the two of them isn’t much, it’s still better .
Testing his sore toes, Blitz limps out of his bedroom and towards the little fridge.
“Stub your toe?” an innocent voice asks.
Blitz spins, screaming out, “Fuck!” at the top of his lungs. “Loona, don’t do that.”
Loona chuckles, uncurling from a ball in the corner where she’d apparently been hiding, the shadows a deep blanket even if not an effective one. “Sorry, but it is kind of funny. You’ve been up for less than two minutes and I think you’ve said fuck about forty times.”
“Fuck fuck, then, so we can have a nice forty-two.” Blitz rubs at his face. “Why are you up so late at night?”
“Just couldn’t sleep. Nightmares.” Loona shrugs, not meeting his gaze. “You know, the usual stupid stuff.”
“Yeah.” Blitz lets out a deeper sigh than he intended. “Yeah, I know.”
“About tomorrow—” they say in unison.
Blitz blinks, and then holds out a hand. “You go first.” It’ll be less embarrassing that way, especially if she wants to say something like ‘I hate you and never want to speak to you again’.
“If you want me to go, I’ll go.” Loona’s white teeth gleam in the light as she steps towards him. “But if you don’t… if you’d be all right with me staying on…”
“What?” Blitz blinks. “You’re not turning in your resignation?”
“Do… do you want m y resignation?” Loona’s ears pin themselves back on her head.
“No!” Blitz scowls at her. “I just got you broken in as a secretary. I don’t want you to go, that would be stupid.”
Loona nods, though her ears don’t prick forward.
“And…” Blitz swallows the lump trying to choke him. “I’d like to celebrate your birthday. As my daughter. Rather than, like… a going away party.”
“ ...you really want me to stay?” A low whine works its way out of Loona’s throat.
“Yeah.” The word is like a knife in his throat, but saying anything else would be worse. He cannot be a worse father than his own was. “I want you to stay. As my secretary, and as my daughter, if you’re willing.”
“Well shit.” Loona blinks, and it’s probably just the light, but Blitz thinks he sees a sheen of tears limning her eyes in shimmering color. “Sure. But only if you pour me a drink now.”
Blitz studies the clock. 3:42 AM. Which might mean one of his clocks is off, or that time is just fucked, as it always is in the early morning, or that Blitz just really sucks at telling how long things are supposed to take.
Big things, like winning over the girl who stole her way into his heart the very first time he saw her.
“Sure. It’s after midnight. Let’s get drunk!” Blitz turns on his heel, and manages to crash face-first into the floor.
Loona giggles, and saunters past him to where he keeps the liquor. “Sure you aren’t already?”
“I resent that insinuation. I am far more graceful when I’m drunk.” Blitz picks himself up off the floor and follows Loona to the dining room table.
Loona pours them both deep glasses. “To finding unexpected friends in the least likely places.” She raises her glass in toast.
“To making a family when our own fucking sucks.” Blitz clinks his glass against Loona’s.
They both drain their drinks, and then Blitz is refilling their glasses, grinning at Loona as he does. “Want to play a drinking game?”
Loona raises one eyebrow. “You are less than half my size. Pint-sized dad.”
“Bet I can drink more than four of you put together.” Blitz feels a smile spread across his face.
It’s probably not the best way to celebrate his daughter being eighteen.
To celebrate the fact that his family chose to stay with him.
But it’s what Blitz knows how to do, and by all the unholy powers, he is going to party like his life depends on it.
Because doing anything else might give time for other emotions to sneak in, and Blitz doesn’t think he’d survive that for long.
***
Loona runs away for the first time six months after moving in with Blitz.
It’s over a stupid fight. Over decorations in the office, which neither of them really care about but both were willing to scalp the other over; and over exactly where Loona falls on the daughter-employee line, which they should have been willing to scalp each other over, but couldn’t even bring themselves to talk about.
Loona should have expected that. Neither of them is really good at talking about anything. It’s a small miracle they lasted as long as they did, all things considered.
And it’s not a miracle that Loona should have taken for granted.
Pointy-headed pervert. The accusation might be true, but Loona probably shouldn’t have screamed it at the top of her lungs.
Vacuous varmint. Loona thinks she has Millie to blame for the ‘varmint’ part, and she’s not sure if she’s more entertained or horrified by it.
A terrible father!
It was the last thing Loona yelled at him, and it’s why she knows she can’t go back.
She hasn’t figured out all of Blitz’s issues yet. She thinks that would take more years than she’s been alive, and definitely more than she cares to spend trying to help someone that she’s pretty sure wouldn’t even want her help.
But she knows that he’s got enough daddy issues to make a century-long subscription, and she hit him right there, her words cutting through his guard to make him flinch back.
Granted, he called her a bastard bitch a few seconds before, which is both true and grossly unfair, but still.
Fuck, what had they even been fighting about?
It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Loona’s an adult, and she said some terrible things, and now she can’t go back home.
Now she doesn’t have a home.
She wanders the streets of the Pride ring, wondering exactly where everything went so wrong.
Wondering if anyone would notice if she just, like… ate one of the sinners.
But then she sees the cannibals in cannibal town, and decides that wouldn’t be a good idea either.
Not that she’s having many good ideas right now.
Not that she’s having any ideas at all.
Which is probably why she takes the whiskey bottle that a stranger holds out to her.
Why she lets herself get dragged into dancing around a fire.
Why she throws back her head and howls, letting her grief and fury spill out into a world that really, truly couldn’t care less.
Except… sometime between when she starts howling and when she collapses to her knees, a familiar pair of boots appears in front of her.
“Come on, Loona.” Blitz puts a hand under her elbow, helping to lever her back to her feet. “Let’s go home. Unless you’re really having a good time and want to keep partying?”
“Hey, man,” the tusk-toothed man she’d been drinking with frowns. “You can’t take her.”
Blitz flicks the man a coin, following it up by spinning his revolver around one finger. “You were nice to my daughter, so I’m paying you instead of shooting you, but if you don’t scram—”
He scrams, and Loona sighs, ears dropping because she doesn’t have the energy to pin them back to her head. “Your daughter?”
“Last I checked, though you don’t have to be if you don’t want to be.”
One ear flicks forward slightly. “You’re not… upset at me?”
“Loona, I am just happy to find you in one piece.” Blitz wraps her in a loose, hesitant embrace. “When you ran off, I thought—it doesn’t matter. But you’re here, and you’re all right, and if you need to get away from me, really get away from me, I understand. I know I’m not… good. For anyone. But if you’re okay with me being your dad for a little bit longer—”
“Oh, shut it with the self deprecating shit. At least about the father bits.” Loona scrubs a hand across her face. “If you’re a shit father, it’s only when I’m a shit daught—”
Loona finds the word cut off as Blitz grabs her muzzle, forcing her to look down into his suddenly blazing eyes. “Don’t you ever say that. You understand? You are the best daughter a dad could have. All right?”
Loona hesitates, and then gives the tiniest nod.
“Great.” Blitz releases her as though nothing happened. “So let’s go! There’s better booze to be had at our place, anyway.”
Rubbing her muzzle, Loona trails Blitz back towards their apartment.
Back towards her home, which apparently really does want her even when she’s being a brat.
Huh.
Now isn’t that something to think about, and drink to until the light of dawn heralds a new morning.
***
The last time Loona runs away is two months after Blitz starts fucking Stolas.
At first Blitz is terrified that she ran to the human world, and he almost calls Stolas before he finds the book tucked safely where it’s meant to be.
Which means he doesn’t have to search a second world, but it does take him four hours to find her tucked away in a bar that’s sleazy even by Hell standards.
He doesn’t berate her, though. He knows that’s only going to cause more trouble, and he is never going to be his father.
He is never going to be something or someone Loona has to fear.
She growls at him as he settles in the seat next to her, but it’s a half-hearted sound.
“Want another round?” Blitz asks.
Loona allows her head to droop, and gives a nod.
Blitz waits until they’ve both got their drinks to ask, “Soooo… what did I do this time?”
“I mean, you keep talking about taking me to get my shots.” Loona manages to crack a smile, though it fades too quickly. “No, it’s not… I just… the way you’re talking about that ars goetia guy all the time…”
“I do not talk about him all the time!” Blitz protests. “Just when it’s relevant.”
“Which is, like, all the time now! Apparently! From how you talk about him!”
Blitz draws in a deep breath, and then pours half his bottle of tequila down his throat. It burns, and he can feel neurons dying, but he didn’t need them anyway. “Look, I’m just excited about our opportunities.”
“Do you actually like him?” Loona demands.
Blitz blinks. “Uh… wha?”
“Do. You. Actually. Like. Him.” Loona raps her knuckles against the table with each word.
“No! I mean, he’s fine, for an ars goetia. I mean.” Blitz throws his hands in the air. “What does it matter?!”
“Because you don’t need to whore yourself out! Not for the business, and not…” Loona rubs a hand across her face. “Not for me.”
Well, that had not been something Blitz expected. “Wait, wait, wait… are you mad because you think I… don’t really want to be doing this?”
“I don’t know!” Loona barely cuts off a howl on the last word. “Sometimes you seem to, but you’re also fucking weird, dad, and I just… I don’t want you feeling… obligated.”
“Oh, Loona, baby, that’s not what this is. It’s just a business opportunity, and one I like!” Blitz grins, though it fades slightly as he considers that maybe he shouldn’t talk too much about his sex life with his daughter. Even if she is adopted and full grown and knows all about it, given the thinness of their walls. “Trust me, if I didn’t want to be fucking the bird, I would not be fucking the bird.”
“You promise?” Loona sniffles.
Blitz puts a hand to his heart. “I promise.”
“Because I don’t…” Loona manages to suck in her sniffles without any tears falling, though she sounds a bit like a wolf-elephant hybrid as she does. “I don’t ever want to make you get hurt, all right? That’s not what family’s supposed to do.”
The word family hits Blitz like a punch to the solar plexus, but he manages not to show it. “Absolutely right. Family gets rip-roaring drunk together, and then helps make sure everyone gets home afterward.”
“Damn straight,” Loona says, and lifts her hands to flag the waitress back down.
Family.
Blitz never thought that was something he could have.
Never thought it would be something he deserved, not after what happened with the circus.
But maybe… maybe he hasn’t fucked things up too badly with Loona.
Probably means it’s just a matter of time until he does, but he’ll take what peace and happiness he can get.
He knows how much the world loves to stomp on both, after all.
But that also means he knows how to get back up afterward, and with Loona in his life—with Loona to protect and take care of—it’s a lot easier than he expected it to be to keep dragging himself on.