Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once a month, on the full moon - that was the deal.

In the beginning, Blitz had expected it to become a chore despite how well his and Stolas's first sexual encounter had gone. After all, the imp liked being the one to call the shots- to decide the where, when, and who. To his surprise, though, the full moon never loomed over him like the obligation it was meant to be, and he found himself anticipating these visits more and more.

Unfortunately, tonight was not his night.

Blitz hoisted himself over the balcony, staggering a bit when his feet hit the ground, Stolas's fancy magic book clenched between his teeth.

The imp knew he was allowed to use the front entrance, but he had already gotten way too comfortable around Stolas, and walking into the Prince's home as though he were a guest instead of whatever he really was would have just complicated things further. So, when Blitz's usual method of carrying the book with his tail had made his lower back start to cramp, the assassin had to improvise.

He took the book from his mouth and tucked it under his arm, annoyed that he had to catch his breath from a climb he'd made over a dozen times before. Even worse, the queasy feeling in his stomach that had been coming and going for the last few days had returned. The imp was starting to wish he had canceled. Stolas wouldn't have minded, and they could have easily rescheduled, but he was too stubborn to back out now.

Instead, Blitz took a moment to compose himself before pushing the bedroom doors open and stepping inside.

"Ah, there you are, darling." 

The imp followed Stolas's low, sultry voice to the bed where the owl lay stretched out on his side, head propped up on one hand. Hooded ruby eyes glowed in the low-lit room, Stolas's tail fanning out behind him as he slid one of his talons down the length of his stomach, slipping between his now parted thighs.

Despite his exhaustion, Blitz's pulse quickened; the sight of the owl shamelessly teasing himself sent warmth radiating from his chest down to his groin.

'I can do this real fast,' he thought, actually meaning it this time.

Despite the usual adventurous nature of their sexual encounters, Blitz knew he'd get no complaints from the Prince for giving it to him fast and hard, even if he happened to doze off afterward before another round. He knew Stolas would join him rather than wake him up, which Blitz was grateful for since he desperately needed a good night's rest, especially if he had any chance of fighting off whatever was making him feel like shit.

So Blitz focused on the growing need between his legs as he tossed the book on the dresser and quickly undressed, spurred on by Stolas's breathy exhales as the owl continued to touch himself.

The Prince keened at the sight of the imp's naked body, and Blitz wore a seductive smile as he approached, their eyes locked as he pounced onto the bed. He snatched the owl's wrist, ending the self-pleasure as he pinned it against the mattress. Then he swung his leg over Stolas's waist, pinning the Prince's other wrist against the opposite side.

"Hey there, Birdie," he leered down at the horny owl, his low, husky voice already making the other demon shiver beneath him, "Daddy's a little impatient tonight."

And that was as good as a warning Blitz would give; the pinprick white pupils in Stolas's lower eyes and how he felt the Prince's pulse quicken from his grip on his wrists felt like permission, as did how slick the owl's cloaca already was as he slid in without much resistance, Stolas moaning his approval.

Before long, they had settled into a steady rhythm, Blitz thrusting in and out of Stolas's tight warmth as the owl whined in pleasure, canting his hips up as he pleaded for more, more, more . Blitz moved his hands to grip the taller demon's waist, his tail wrapping around one of Stolas's legs as he increased his speed, breaths coming in short bursts as the pleasure mounted when a non-sexual heat suddenly flushed through his entire body.

Beads of sweat gathered at his temples, and his vision blurred around the edges, his stomach protesting his every movement as he stubbornly kept pace.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Soon Blitz began to feel faint, the hold he had with his tail loosening even as he tried to tighten his grip on Stolas's waist, who, still unaware of his lover's predicament, grabbed the imp's horns with both hands. The forceful tug that followed was too much for the lightheaded assassin, and the room spun in a dizzy blur before his eyes rolled back and gravity pulled him down into feathers and darkness.

The next thing Blitz was aware of was the feeling of someone gently but urgently patting his cheek and a worried voice saying his name.

He groaned as he forced his heavy eyelids to open, blinking at Stolas's anxious face above him. Any relief the imp might have felt at the Prince no longer looking like a blurry mess was immediately eclipsed by the realization of what had just happened.

"Fuck."

The single curse had the owl sighing in relief.

"Oh, thank Lucifer. I was so worried, Darling. Are you alright?"

Blitz pulled away from the hand still on the side of his face, ignoring the Prince's warning to take it easy as he pushed his tired body to sit up. The imp was relieved that neither the room nor his head was spinning, but the queasiness in his stomach lingered, as did the concern on Stolas's face.

"You fainted," the owl informed him, "gave me quite a fright, but you were only out for about a minute."

Blitz covered his face with both hands to poorly muffle a long groan because hearing he 'fainted' made the assassin feel like a much bigger pussy than if the Prince had told him he'd 'passed out'.

"Shit, that was my bad," it was the closest to an apology Blitz could manage as he reached over to try and push Stolas back down on the mattress. He flashed what he hoped was a convincing, confident smile and said, "Let me make that up to you, prince-y."

The owl shook his head, looking troubled.

"No, no, none of that," he gently chided, brushing away the imp's hand. "You're clearly not feeling well."

Blitz rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine," the imp insisted, choosing to overlook his nausea. "Work was just shit today, and I haven't been sleeping well," all of which was true. "Besides, we got a deal."

Mentioning their arrangement felt wrong even before Stolas winced and looked away.

"Blitz, I—" the prince's voice sounded choked, and he paused to quietly clear his throat before continuing, "I think it would be best to postpone tonight's activities."

Blitz pushed aside the feelings of inadequacy the words invoked and scoffed with false confidence.

"What? Worried I can't still get you off?" he asked, smirking as if to welcome the challenge.

Stolas's gaze was frustratingly soft when he looked back at him.

"That's not what I'm worried about, Dear."

The gentleness was too much for Blitz, and with a determined glint in his eyes, he shifted on the bed and lunged at the unsuspecting demon, pinning him down on the bed by his shoulders. He purposely dug his claws in and Stolas gasped in pleasure at the sudden rough treatment, the little white pupils reappearing in his lower set of eyes.

Blitz smirked.

This is what they were supposed to be doing. 

This is what made sense.

"Now, let's—" He felt a sudden churn in his stomach and shut his eyes tight, clenching his teeth as the nausea made his mouth water unpleasantly.

Shit.

"Blitz?"

Stolas's voice sounded worried again and Blitz growled in frustration.

'Fucking hell, you have got to be kidding me!' He thought as he pulled away from the owl and scrambled to get off the bed, ignoring the cry of his name. 

Blitz spotted a small wastebasket next to the polished dresser and frantically rushed over, falling to his knees and immediately expelling the meager contents of his stomach.

When he finally finished heaving, he spit and coughed at the sour taste lingering in his mouth, staring down into the trashcan as he caught his breath.

He tried not to flinch at the gentle touch beneath the spines on his back as Stolas knelt beside him, having already pulled his robe back on. 

The owl offered one of the bottled waters they kept nearby, and the smaller demon silently accepted, rinsing his mouth out, and then finishing the rest of the water before tossing the empty bottle in the trash.

"Are you feeling any better?"

Blitz winced at the gentle question, feeling so unworthy of the kindness in Stolas's voice that the words felt like nails scratching against the chalkboard of his mind.

"This....this doesn't fucking mean anything," he insisted, "I can still-"

"No." came the gentle but firm reply, "You are not well, and we will not continue our usual activities tonight."

Blitz shut his eyes, wishing the words didn't make him feel like an even greater failure, but knowing the owl was right. The mood was ruined, and there was no salvaging it. Even with his stomach beginning to settle, the imp was too tired to make any more attempts.

"Yeah," he quietly relented, opening his eyes but still too ashamed to look at Stolas. "I'll just get my fucking clothes and g-OH!"

Blitz was completely caught off guard as the owl swiftly lifted him into his arms and began carrying him back to the bed. 

"What the fuck, Stolas!"

He barely had time to squirm before the prince gently placed him on the mattress and pulled the cover over his waist before pressing the back of his taloned hand to the smaller demon's forehead and humming thoughtfully.

"You don't seem to be running a fever."

Blitz frowned and leaned away from the gentle touch.

"I'm not sick," he stubbornly replied.

"The contents of my waste basket would say otherwise," Stolas retorted, causing the imp's face to flush with warmth.

"Yeah, well... I'm fine now," Blitz sulked, arms crossed over his chest. "If you don't want me to fuck you, then I should just go."

For some reason, this seemed to sadden the owl.

"The only thing I want is for you to rest," the royal demon replied, "Even if you don't feel ill, you are still clearly exhausted, and I wouldn't feel right about you driving yourself home."

"Just open a portal then," Blitz griped, although he still made no effort to get off the bed, "I'll come back for the van tomorrow."

Stolas fidgeted, appearing unsure.

"I'd feel better if I can keep an eye on you," he confessed at last. "Just in case."

Blitz regarded the Prince with confusion. 

"So, what? You want me to spend the night? No sex?"

The owl nodded without hesitation.

"That's precisely what I'm suggesting, yes," he replied, pausing for a moment before adding in a more thoughtful tone, "Although I would feel much better if a doctor were to see you as well."

Blitz scoffed.

"Oh, fuck that," he said, "No way am I paying some crackpot to tell me I got the flu or some shit. Waste of fucking time and money."

"I'd be more than happy to cover the bill," the prince offered, gazing down at the imp with a pleading expression. "If nothing else, it would ease my concerns over the matter."

Blitz sighed.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

The owl met his gaze with stubborn silence.

After a moment, Blitz plopped back onto the bed with a loud groan.

"Uuugh, Fine!" He relented, turning onto his side, but still facing the Prince, whose entire demeanor had already brightened. 

"I'll go tomorrow after work," he declared, masking the sudden self-conscious feeling with his usual gruffness. "Is that okay with you, Your Highness?"

The owl was unbothered by the other demon's moodiness.

"Oh, Blitzy, that would be wonderful."

The imp huffed, not sure how to handle Stolas's obvious relief.

"Stop being weird and get your feathered ass in bed," he muttered, effectively ending the conversation as he closed his eyes.

Stolas happily did as requested, pulling the cover over himself as he snuggled down on his side of the bed to admire the imp. Now that he was paying closer attention, though, the Prince could see the bags under his lover's eyes that spoke of restless nights and stress, and his smile slowly slipped away.

After several minutes of concern and contemplation, Stolas gave in to the temptation to reach over and gently run his fingers along the curve of one of the imp's horns and down the side of his face. When Blitz’s yellow eyes blinked open, revealing drowsy confusion, Stolas immediately pulled his hand back, feeling guilty for disturbing Blitz's much-needed rest. However, the smaller demon simply looked at him with drooping eyes for a moment before sighing softly and shuffling across the sheets until he was up against Stolas's feathered chest, draping one arm lazily over the stunned owl.

 "S'just the flu," Blitz mumbled, words quiet as his eyes slipped closed, "M'fine." 

Stolas's heart swelled with affection, and he cooed as he wrapped his arms around the imp and pulled him even closer.

"If you say so, my dear." He replied, voice soft and content as he nuzzled the space between the smaller demon's horns. "Just rest."

Blitz let out a tired breath, trying not to dwell on how little he minded the cuddling, even as his traitorous tail curled loosely around his companion's leg and he surrendered to the pull of sleep once more.

Chapter Text

Blitz stirred, feeling the blanket's warmth over him and the sheet's softness against his skin as he curled up tighter on his side. He sighed, blinking his eyes open to find Stolas gazing at him from across the bed. The prince had his chin propped on his hand, and his beak was curved into a gentle smile. There had been a time when awakening to the owl's stare would have Blitz flinching back, but now there was a softness in Stolas’s ruby eyes that just confused the imp, and he found himself unable to look away.

"Good morning, dear," Stolas greeted softly. "How are you feeling? Better, I hope."

The words pulled Blitz out of his daze and he broke eye contact as he sat up with an exaggerated groan, stretching his arms overhead.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just peachy," he replied, giving a lazy wave. Then he glanced at the bedside clock and jolted at the time.

 “Fuck, I’m late!”

He scrambled off the bed and hurriedly put on the clothes he had worn the previous night, feeling pleasantly surprised that he wasn’t dizzy or off-balance. The aches in his body had also dulled significantly.

Maybe all he had needed was a good night's sleep.

"Must you run off so soon?" Stolas asked, standing next to his bed in his robe now, "We could have breakfast together if your stomach isn't-"

"No time, Bitch," Blitz abruptly cut the other off as he stooped to put on his boots, "Daddy's got work to do."

When he straightened back up, he caught the frown on Stolas's beak and the owl's slumped shoulders.

Fuck.

Blitz could usually brush aside any guilt about leaving by reminding himself that he had rocked the Prince's world the night before, but he had certainly not done that last night.

No, instead of showing Stolas a good time, Blitz had passed out before getting him off, thrown up, passed out again on his bed, and was now refusing a breakfast invite.

Blitz sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked off to the side. 

He had done nothing to earn the night's rest he had gotten, and he definitely did not deserve breakfast (not that Blitz had much appetite, anyway). The least the imp could do was show he was grateful- even if indulging in these softer moments with Stolas was risky.

"But, I... appreciate the offer," Blitz said at last, his tone sincere though he didn't meet the other's gaze, "And... you know, thanks for letting me stay the night and shit."

There, he'd said it.

And he'd meant it.

When Blitz looked back up, Stolas was smiling again. 

"You don't have to thank me. I'm always happy to have you here," the owl said, walking around the bed to stand before the imp and gently touching Blitz's face. "It really is such a treat waking up to you."

Stolas's words seemed as earnest as always, yet without the lustful undertones they would have held in the past. Even his touch wasn't as demeaning or possessive as it had felt at the beginning of their arrangement.

Then again, a lot had changed since then, and even more seemed to have changed since their disastrous date at Ozzie's.

Blitz would have been concerned if the Prince had been giving him less attention since then, but that wasn't the case. The attention was just different now. The gazes were softer, the touches more tender, and there had been considerably less dirty talk from the owl outside of the full moon. Even his text messages had taken on a more casual tone, often wishing Blitz good morning or asking about his day. 

It was confusing, and Blitz was trying hard not to let his guard down.

And yet he kept fucking up.

Staying the night without sex, snuggling, and even now, as the owl leaned down to give one of his horns a soft peck, the imp was sure he was blushing. The gesture felt more intimate than if Stolas had slipped his tongue into Blitz's mouth.

"Oh-kay," Blitz's laugh was a little too loud and nervous as he pulled away, "That's enough domestic bullshit for one morning," he looked around the room as he backed up towards the balcony. "Now, where's that damn book..." 

Said book floated toward him, surrounded by Stolas's magic.

"I managed to finish my duties while you were still sleeping," the owl informed him. "I left a portal open in case you needed me, although I hated to leave you for even a moment, especially since you were so delightfully clingy."

Blitz snatched the book out of the air, pretending to ignore the Prince's teasing words as he turned to leave.

"Do message me after your trip to the doctors if it's not too much trouble," Stolas said, following close behind Blitz as the imp tried to make a hasty retreat, "You do still intend to go, don't you?"

Blitz threw his head back with a groan.

"Said I would, so I will," He griped, "Now stop being such a fucking mother hen- shits weird."

Stolas chuckled good-naturedly, bidding the imp farewell.

"Until next time, Dearest." 

Blitz hoped Stolas didn't notice how his tail perked up behind him as he hurried away.

'Dearest? Fuck, that was a new one.'

The drive to work was torture. 

Blitz had thought he was doing better. However, his fast driving, combined with the road's sharp turns, had him fighting off waves of nausea, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that the scars on his palms ached. When he finally made it to his destination and parked, Blitz exhaled deeply and leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, waiting for the queasiness to pass. Feeling shaky, he exited the van, tucked the book under his arm, and entered the building. It wasn't until he reached the door marked I.M.P. that he straightened up and took a deep breath.

'Showtime.' 

Blitz grabbed the handle and flung the door open with more energy than he had. 

"Morning, Fuckers!" 

Loona remained focused on her magazine, her feet propped up on the desk, ignoring the entrance, while Millie sprang from the couch where she and Moxxie were sitting and greeted him with a bright smile.

"Good mornin', B!"

Moxie rose to stand beside her, arms folded across his chest, looking less than impressed with the taller imp.

"I was wondering if you'd join us today, Sir."

Blitz's smile faded as he gave the younger imp the finger while Millie softly nudged her husband's side.

"Moxxie, be nice," she chided gently, her eyes twinkling playfully, "You know the full moon is ah... busy night for him."

Moxxie's lips quirked up at her teasing remark, his stiff posture instantly relaxing. Even Loona lowered the magazine she had been hiding behind to join in.

"Guess that explains why he's late," she remarked, a smirk on her face as she looked over at Blitz. "You've been putting in that overtime, huh, boss."

M&M exchanged amused looks as they tried to stifle their chuckles, and Blitz rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, all of you," he replied, trying to appear his usual self as he walked further into the room, "Never mind that this fine ass is what keeps us all employed."

Moxxie curbed his smile, “Sorry, Sir, but you must admit that three hours late is a little excessive even for the morning after a full moon."

"Blah, blah, blah! The point is, I'm here, and so is the fancy-ass book," Blitz replied, lifting the book slightly, "So enough chit-chat; let's get to killing something."

"Are ya sure you don't wanna eat first?" Millie asked, "Mox made some muffins for everyone."

She lifted a plate from the corner of Loona's desk and extended it towards him. The smell assaulted his nostrils, and Blitz flinched back and gagged, his nausea surging back violently.

Millie pulled the plate back, her brows knitting together in confusion and worry at his reaction.

Moxxie rolled his eyes, assuming Blitz was poking fun at his baking skills.

"Really, Sir, if you would just try—"

The thud of a book abruptly hitting the floor cut off his sentence. Blitz had let go of the Grimoire to clamp both hands over his mouth, his gaze frantically searching until it landed on the wastebasket next to Loona's desk.

He rushed towards it and dropped to his knees, retching up nothing but water and bile.

Loona made a noise of disgust and quickly got up from her chair to back further away. Moxxie and Millie exchanged worried looks as they watched their boss gag again, heaving without anything left to expel. Neither protested when Loona grabbed the plate of muffins, strode to an open window, and chucked it out, headless of the sound of screeching tires and cursing that followed on the street below.

Millie's gaze stayed fixed on Blitz as he leaned back to breathe, his shoulders drooping with exhaustion.

She gave him a moment to compose himself before speaking.

"B?" she started, knowing he wouldn't like what she had to say, "I think you might have come down with somethin', hun."

Blitz let out a humorless chuckle, not bothering to look at her.

"Gee, what gave me away?" he asked, rubbing his face and groaning.

"Sir, if you're ill, you could have called in," Moxxie said, "If we all get sick, then productivity will-"

"What Moxxie is tryin' to say," Millie gave her husband a quick warning look before turning back to Blitz with a gentler voice, "is that we're worried. We've both noticed ya seem tired lately. Maybe you should take the day off and getcha some rest."

"And visit a doctor as well," Moxxie chimed in.

Blitz let out a sigh as he rose to his feet—the restful sleep he had gotten seemed like a distant memory now.

"I already told Stolas I'd go after work," he sulked, "So you can all get off my case about it, okay?"

Before Moxxie or Millie could question just what had led him to make such a promise to the Prince, Loona spoke up.

"You should go now."

Blitz looked over at his daughter with mild surprise, but the hellhound simply shrugged as she settled back at her desk.

"You haven't smelled right for weeks," she stated.

'Weeks?' he thought, 'I've only been sick for a few days.'

"Wait, what do you mean by 'smell'?" Blitz straightened up, looking insulted. "For your information, I bathe nearly semi-regularly, young lady."

"Look, there are only two hits for today," Loona pointed out, ignoring his offended tone. "The other stooges can handle it while you figure out what your deal is."

Blitz blinked, surprised and then touched by her persistence over the matter.

"Oh, Looney," he felt unexpected tears come to his eyes, "Are you worried about your dear old dad?"

Loona emitted a low, warning growl.

"That's not what I said," she replied, a mix of irritation and embarrassment. "I just don't want you puking all over the office; it's gross."

"She's right, Sir; it's quite unsanitary."

Blitz's mood soured instantly with Moxxie's unnecessary input, and a frustrated frown took over his face.

"Ugh, fine! I'll go to the fucking doctor," he grumbled, picking up the book and placing it on Loona's desk, "But they're just going to say it's the flu and send my ass home; just watch."

Blitz was regretting going to an actual hospital. 

Still, the cheap clinic he usually went to when a work injury was too severe was packed with sick, injured fucks, and the waiting room had somehow smelled even worse than usual. 

So, here he was.

The place wasn't as pompous as the hospitals in Sloth, thank fuck, and it seemed to employ a fair number of imps, hellhounds, and sinners, so he didn't have to deal with everyone staring down their noses at him, but this was taking way too fucking long.

First, they wanted him to fill out paperwork before he was seen. Blitz had hastily scribbled in his first name only, crossing out the 'O' since he'd forgotten to leave it off, and then bullshitted his way through the rest of the form. After completing it, he glared threateningly at the nurse as he handed it back, none too subtly opening his jacket enough to reveal his gun and daring them to turn him away. 

After that, a different nurse escorted him to another room, where they recorded his weight, height, temperature, and blood pressure. They asked some basic questions, took a throat swab to test for various illnesses, and then sent him to another room to wait.

Twenty minutes later, the doctor met with him, asked even more questions, drew some blood, and had Blitz piss in a cup (after he had chugged two bottles of water to manage it).

Now, he was fidgeting in a chair as he waited again, wondering if this was how a regular visit should go or if something was seriously fucking wrong with him.

'It's just the flu.'

Blitz jumped at the quick double knock on the door before a plump, slightly older imp doctor entered; the same fucker that had asked him all those personal questions from before, the one who the assassin had snapped at to mind his own goddamn business.

The doctor was now smiling pleasantly, and it was unclear to Blitz whether he was entirely over the imp's previous outburst or if the guy was a sick fuck who was about to take pleasure in telling Blitz that he was dying.

He was surprised when the answer was neither.

"I'm what now?" Blitz asked, sure he had misheard. There was no way he could be—

"Pregnant, Mr. Blitzo," the doctor repeated cheerfully, and Blitz was so stunned that he didn't even correct him on the name.

Instead, he waited for the punchline, the catch, anything. But after a moment, he realized the doctor was actually fucking serious.

Blitz leaned back in his chair.

"Wow," he said dryly, "And here I thought the lack of piss smell meant this place wasn't full of fucking no brain hacks."

The imp doctor looked startled by his response.

"I...beg your pardon?" he said, frowning in confusion.

"I'm not pregnant," Blitz stated, his tone and expression falling flat. "It's not possible. So, either you and your staff are fucking idiots, or the chart you're holding belongs to the whore across the hall."

The elder imp's frown gave way to raised eyebrows and a soft "Ah, I see," as if understanding Blitz's response at last.

"It's exceedingly rare these days," he began, speaking slowly yet professionally, "but some male imps, like yourself, can indeed—"

Blitz felt his temper flare as he held up a hand.

"Gonna stop you right the fuck there, doc," he said, beyond pissed that the older imp had assumed his ignorance on the subject. "I don't need a fucking biology lesson, okay? I was told a long fucking time ago that I can't get knocked up regardless. So whatever fucking scam you think you're pulling here is not going to fly with me, you got it, shitstain?"

Once more, the doctor looked surprised.

"I didn't realize that this news would upset you," he remarked, his voice tinged with regret, choosing to overlook Blitz's derisive snort. "But I can assure you that there is no mistake. We've run several tests, and the results are all the same. You're about a month along."

Blitz scowled, shaking his head in denial and exasperation because even if he wasn't infertile like he'd been told, Stolas was the only one Blitz had fucked for longer than he'd like to admit, and there was no way the Prince had knocked him up.

'He doesn't even have a fucking dick!' 

As soon as Blitz thought this, though, another voice countered. 'But he has a fucking daughter, dumbass,' and the imp froze as he realized he knew jack-shit about how that worked.

And being a month along would align perfectly with the last full moon.

So,…. not impossible after all.

'Pregnant?'

Blitz gently rested a hand on his stomach, leaning back in his chair again. 

'Pregnant.'

"Sir, are you alright?" The doctor's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked, feeling strangely hollow despite having something growing inside him.

"I'm....just feeling a little sick," he said, barely able to recognize his voice. It wasn't a lie, but it certainly wasn't the whole truth.

"Ah, I can give you something for that before you leave," the doctor offered, clearing his throat before speaking in a more impartial tone. "May I ask if you're considering termination?"

"Termination?" Blitz echoed, his brow furrowing as he tried to grasp the meaning through the haze clouding his mind.

"It's not uncommon, particularly in the early stages, to consider an abortion," the older imp explained, voice having softened just slightly. "Given your reaction, it's understandable if this is an unwanted pregnancy."

'Unwanted'

The hand on his stomach clenched into a tight grip over his shirt as Blitz recalled gazing through the bars of a cell at a seventeen-year-old Loona.

'Good riddance if you ask me.' 

A sudden, fierce protective instinct took hold, even as his rational mind reasoned that termination was probably the best course of action—his ticket out. Blitz could tell everyone it had just been the flu as he'd originally thought. No one would even have to know, no one but him.

Nothing had to change.

"Of course, I understand if this is something you need to think over and discuss with your partner first," the doctor said, oblivious to Blitz's racing thoughts.

'Partner?'

Fuck what would Stolas think? 

Their arrangement was never supposed to go beyond sex; Blitz knew he was just a fun distraction for the Prince, regardless of the owl's strange demeanor these last few months. 

Would Stolas decide he was more trouble than he was worth and end their deal?

Then what?

"Sir? Mr. Blitzo?"

Blitz looked up, his focus wavering.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, finally acknowledging the previous words, "I'll need to... to talk with my... yes."

The doctor's expression remained unreadable, yet his tone was sympathetic. "I'll get you something for the nausea and some prenatal vitamins before you go," he said, patting Blitz on the shoulder—a gesture the dazed imp scarcely registered. "You can schedule a follow-up appointment with the nurse outside or take a few days to consider your options and give us a call." 

Blitz nodded as he rose from his seat, his legs supporting him despite feeling unsteady.

His hand was still on his stomach.