Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

It was the weekend, which meant no work to be done at I.M.P. With no assassination contracts lined up, everyone at the office was left with nothing but boredom.

They could have just gone home and relaxed, but Blitz—ever the self-proclaimed leader—decided to try and set up a group meeting. After all, as the founder of the company, he figured it was his duty to keep morale high.

Loona, Anne, Moxxie, and Millie sat around the table, their expressions ranging from confusion to disinterest as Blitz attempted to pitch the idea.

Unfortunately for him, thinking of ways to improve the human assassination business was proving...difficult. I.M.P only targeted humans who had wronged others, and considering Anne was a living human in Hell (an exception to the rule), it made things even more awkward.

The result? A painfully long silence that filled the office.

Moxxie, already unimpressed, was the first to speak.

“Well, this is pointless. Why call us in if there’s nothing to talk about, sir?” he asked in a flat, bored tone.

“Hey, I was just trying to get us all to spend some time together! I didn’t plan on my mind going blank!” Blitz protested, crossing his arms.

Anne, hoping to break the tension, perked up. “How about a sleepover? My friends and I used to have them all the time back home.”

“Cute idea, kid, but not really feeling it today. Sorry,” Blitz dismissed.

“How about an at-home movie marathon?” Millie suggested cheerfully. “That could be fun!”

Moxxie sighed, shaking his head. “Honey, the last time we invited Blitz for a movie marathon, he wouldn’t stop complaining that none of the movies had horses.”

“It’s not my fault that horses are majestic creatures!” Blitz huffed, clearly offended.

Loona, lazily scrolling through her phone, finally chimed in. “I’d rather go to Stylish Occult. That’s my idea of fun.”

Moxxie visibly shuddered. “And we’ve already been there a dozen times. I’m still traumatized by their latest taxidermy abominations.”

As the discussion teetered on the edge of going nowhere, Blitz suddenly slammed both hands on the table, making everyone jolt in surprise.

“I got it! I finally figured out the perfect activity for us!” he declared, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

Anne arched a brow. “What, are you gonna have us do a blindfolded brawl or something?”

“No, but that is going on the idea board for future reference,” Blitz replied, briefly eyeing Anne with a cautious look.

Considering Anne was only thirteen—the youngest among them—it made sense for Blitz to be at least somewhat responsible.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I was thinking...what if we have a crossdressing day? Just for fun! One day, no commitments, just trying something new. How’s that for a group activity?”

Silence filled the room again. Then—

“That actually sounds fun! I wanna try!” Anne beamed.

Moxxie hesitated before nodding. “I guess it would be nice to wear something feminine again. It’s been a while since I dressed in drag.”

Anne blinked. “Wait, you’re a straight guy who likes feminine stuff?”

“Oh, no. I’m bisexual,” Moxxie clarified casually. “Both boys and girls are my type. But, obviously, Millie’s the one for me.”

He shot his wife a loving smile, and Millie giggled, blushing.

Loona, unimpressed, rolled her eyes. “Ugh, PDA alert. I’m bi too, but at least I know better than to act like a lovesick fool.” She fake-gagged, making Blitz chuckle quietly.

Despite being adopted by Blitz at seventeen (and now being twenty-two), Loona had inherited his savagery, and he loved her for it.

Moxxie was about to retort, but before he could, Anne cut in.

“SO! Loona, you wanna try crossdressing with us?”

Loona glanced up from her phone, shrugged, and nonchalantly agreed. Millie was already excited to join in, too.

“Alrighty! Looks like we’re all on the same page,” Blitz said, grinning. “And since we’ve made plenty of money the past few weeks, now’s the perfect time to go shopping. Let’s go get fabulous!”

Millie let out an enthusiastic “Yee-haw!” while Anne giggled.

And with that, the I.M.P gang set off on their very unconventional shopping spree.

The Pride Ring had plenty of stores, and the group made sure to visit as many as possible, picking out outfits and accessories that suited their styles.

After hours of browsing, buying, and debating fashion choices, they finally found changing rooms to put on their outfits.

Blitz and Moxxie were the first to step out.

Blitz wore a slightly curled sandy blonde wig that reached his shoulders, fake eyelashes, a teal dress with a mesh train, a thigh-high slit, and sequins. He completed the look with matching heels.

Moxxie, on the other hand, sported fake eyelashes and long white hair extensions styled in a braided bun. He wore a pale blue blouse with lace cuffs, a short navy-blue skirt, and black heeled boots.

Blitz eyed Moxxie, nodding in approval. “Well, well! You look good with long hair, Moxx!”

Moxxie gave a small, amused smile. “You look nice yourself, sir. Short hair suits you.”

Blitz curtsied dramatically. “Why, thank you, darling.”

“Where are the ladies? Are they done yet?” Blitz asked impatiently.

Right on cue, Millie’s voice rang out. “Hey, fellas! We’re here!”

The two imps turned—and their jaws nearly hit the floor.

Millie had styled her hair into a mini ponytail and wore a black leather biker jacket, a gray V-neck tank top with a skull print, ripped navy blue jeans, fingerless gloves, a brown belt, and gray combat boots.

Loona rocked a backward gray baseball cap (with custom slits for her ears), a black t-shirt with mesh sleeves, a distressed slate gray denim vest, and baggy black pants. She still kept her signature spiked choker, fingerless gloves, and piercings.

Moxxie was half in awe, half smitten at Millie’s look, while Blitz just gawked at Loona.

“Woah. Loona, sweetie, you...” Blitz trailed off.

Loona raised an eyebrow. “I what? Too much black? You know I like goth stuff.”

“No, no! I meant—you look amazing! Like, really amazing!” Blitz said, eyes wide with admiration.

Loona blinked before giving him a rare soft smile. “Thanks, I guess. You look pretty as a girl, by the way.”

Blitz gasped dramatically. “You think I’m pretty?! Oh, Loonie, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Ugh, don’t push it, Da—Blitz,” Loona groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Wait, where’s Anne?” Moxxie asked, realizing she was missing.

“I’m here! Sorry for taking so long,” Anne’s voice rang out.

Everyone turned—and immediately stared.

Anne, in her imp disguise, had slicked her hair back into a short, boyish style. She wore a black tuxedo, a black tie, white socks, and dress shoes, topped off with a black fedora (customized for her horns).

Millie squealed. “Oh my Satan! Anne, you look so cool!”

Blitz whistled. “Damn, kid, look at you! You look sharp!”

Anne laughed, thanking them before returning the compliments.

Blitz grinned. “Alright, group selfie time! Everyone in?”

A unanimous “Yes!” followed.

The gang posed, snapped the photo, and—satisfied with their new looks—set out to strut the streets of Pride, turning heads along the way.

Anne couldn’t help but smile.

For the first time in a long while, she didn’t just feel like an employee.

She felt like family.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Marcy could hardly contain her excitement. She practically bounced on her heels as she waited for Anne to arrive at Stolas' palace. Today was special—she had discovered something wonderful, something she couldn’t wait to share.

A tree.

But not just any tree—a massive one with a purple trunk and reddish pink leaves, drifting through the air like delicate whispers of nostalgia.

Anne would find out soon enough.

With Stolas and Octavia out for a father-daughter day, Marcy was left in the company of the palace's imp butlers. Not that she minded. It gave her the perfect opportunity to surprise Anne.

She didn’t have to wait long.

Anne, being Anne, had chosen the most reckless way to enter—scaling the palace balcony like a certain imp they both knew all too well.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t as practiced.

“Whoa—!” Anne’s yelp rang out as her grip slipped.

Marcy's eyes widened. "Anne?" She rushed to the prince’s bedroom just in time to see her friend dangling precariously over the edge.

With a quick tug, she pulled Anne inside, both of them landing in a heap on the floor.

“There’s a door for a reason, Anne!” Marcy scolded, a mix of exasperation and amusement in her voice. “You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Anne grinned up at her, sheepish. "It hasn’t stopped Blitz from doing this every time. Figured I'd give it a shot."

Marcy shook her head, laughing. "You sure have changed a lot."

Anne blinked. "What was that?"

Marcy stiffened. "N-nothing!" she said quickly, before redirecting, "Hey, is Blitz with you?"

"Nope, I came alone. I remember how to get here." Anne dusted herself off before flashing Marcy a curious look. "So, what’s the big reason you invited me over?"

Marcy’s grin returned. "You’ll see." She winked before turning on her heel, leading the way.

Anne followed, her curiosity piqued.

Before stepping outside, Marcy paused to instruct one of the butlers to keep an eye on the palace.

"Are we going to the greenhouse again?" Anne asked.

Stolas’ greenhouse was extravagant, a botanical wonder filled with exotic plants and roses from all over the demon realm. The first time Marcy had shown her, Anne had been completely blown away by its sheer beauty.

But Marcy shook her head. "Nope! We’re going somewhere better." She turned to Anne with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Close your eyes!"

Anne snorted. "Mar-Mar, I swear, if you lead me into a trap—"

"Just do it!" Marcy insisted, giggling.

"Fine, fine." Laughing, Anne covered her eyes.

Marcy carefully took her hand, guiding her forward. Anne stiffened slightly at the touch but said nothing. Her face felt oddly warm, and she didn’t understand why.

After a few moments, Marcy finally stopped.

"Okay, Anna-Banana. You can look now."

Anne uncovered her eyes—

And gasped.

Before her stood the towering tree, its leaves falling in a slow, mesmerizing cascade. It looked like something out of a dream.

"What do you think?" Marcy asked, grinning.

"It’s beautiful." Anne’s voice was breathless with awe. "But… why are we at a tree?" She tilted her head. "I don’t get it."

Marcy chuckled knowingly. "This isn’t just any tree. There’s history behind it."

"History?" Anne’s brows furrowed before realization dawned. "Wait a second—is this the tree where Blitz and Stolas used to hang out as kids?"

Marcy beamed. "Bingo! I’ve always wanted to find out where their playdates were, and now, here we are!"

The two girls stepped closer, eventually settling beneath the tree.

Pink petals drifted down around them, carried by the soft breeze.

After a moment of quiet, Marcy turned to Anne. "Hey, remember how we first met at the beach as kids? How we became friends?"

Anne smiled at the memory. "Yeah. Helping you protect that sandcastle was the best decision I ever made. I’d do it all over again… y'know, if we find Sasha and go home."

Marcy’s smile faltered.

Anne noticed immediately. "Hey, what’s wrong, Mar-Mar?" She reached over, taking Marcy’s hand gently.

The moment their fingers touched, they both froze.

A sudden warmth spread between them, their faces heating up. For a split second, they just stared at each other, confused and flustered—

Then they quickly pulled away, coughing awkwardly.

Anne's thoughts raced back to something Blitz had said to her not too long ago:

"I doubt you two will stay just friends for long, but hey, I’m happy for ya anyway."

She had brushed it off at the time, but now… now she wasn’t so sure.

Marcy was the first to break the silence. "I just… I just wish Stolas and Blitz could get along better."

Anne exhaled, relieved at the change in subject. "Yeah. Blitz always seems uncomfortable around Stolas. Can’t really blame him, though. Being around someone with that much status? It’d make anyone feel inferior."

Marcy suddenly turned to her. "Wait… are you saying you feel that way around me? Since, y'know, Stolas took me in and all?"

Anne stiffened. "Uh—well… yes and no," she admitted hesitantly. "Yes, because you’ve always been this super smart, talented genius, and I’m just… me. But no, it’s not because of Stolas."

Marcy gave her a soft look. "Anne, you don’t need to be jealous of me. If anything, I’m jealous of you."

Anne's jaw nearly dropped. "You? Jealous of me?"

Marcy nodded. "Yeah. You make friends so easily. You’re confident, outgoing… me? I get nervous just looking at people. I'm basically an introverted bookworm who likes fantasy novels—kind of like Stolas."

She smiled. "But you? You’ve become so bold and outspoken since meeting Blitz and everyone at I.M.P. It’s… kind of amazing."

Anne was stunned for a moment before grinning. "Heh. I guess that is kinda funny. But you’ve changed too, Mar-Mar. You’re still a genius, sure, but you’re not as shy anymore. And hey, you’re a lot less clumsy now—no offense."

Marcy giggled. "None taken. Though… I do still trip. A lot."

Anne burst into laughter. "Classic Mar-Mar. You’re making me take back what I said."

"Stop it!" Marcy playfully shoved her, laughing.

Anne grinned before tackling her into the grass, the two dissolving into giggles.

They eventually quieted, lying back to watch the leaves drift through the sky.

After a moment, Anne asked, "What’s your dream for the future?"

Marcy hummed. "I’ve always wanted to be an artist or a writer. Maybe both! But I also think being a scientist or botanist would be fun." She turned to Anne. "What about you?"

Anne hesitated. "...I don’t know yet. Still figuring it out. But if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that you, me, and Sasha will always be together—no matter what."

Marcy’s heart swelled at that. "Yeah. Friends ‘til the end."

Suddenly, Anne reached out, brushing Marcy’s hair.

Marcy’s face went red. "W-what are you doing?"

"You had a leaf in your hair." Anne plucked it out, but as she did, she found herself staring.

For the first time, she really noticed Marcy. The way her big brown eyes shined, how her short black hair framed her face, the soft olive tone of her skin…

She looked beautiful.

Anne quickly turned away, clutching the leaf in her hand. What is happening to me?

Little did she know, Marcy was already smiling to herself—her fingers brushing the spot where Anne had touched.

She had known for a long time now.

But maybe… just maybe… Anne was starting to realize it too.

Chapter Text

It was late at night in the grand palace of the Ars Goetia, and Octavia tossed and turned in her bed.

Something was on her mind, gnawing at her thoughts, keeping her from sleep.

The 17-year-old avian goth princess sighed in frustration, feeling half guilty, half foolish as she whispered across the dimly lit room.

"Psst! Marcy! Wake up!"

Marcy, her 13-year-old human friend—and unofficial younger sister figure—stirred from her sleep on Octavia’s personal couch, groaning softly.

"What is it, Octavia? You feeling alright?" she mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes. Her short black hair was a frizzy mess from sleep.

Octavia hesitated, then sat up. "It’s… so-so, I guess. But mostly, I just feel… confused."

Marcy raised an eyebrow, now more awake. "Confused about what?"

Octavia let out a sigh, staring at her hands. "It’s about Mother. I know she and Dad don’t get along, but around me, she’s just… ugh, I don’t know."

She shifted uncomfortably, struggling to put her feelings into words.

"Spending time with her is… weird. It’s not like with Dad, who always tries to be there for me or make up for me when he messes up. He tries."

"With Mom, the moments we spend together are just… surface-level. Little vacations, tea times, shopping trips—nice, but shallow. Most of the time, she’s either too busy to talk to me, or she’s lecturing me about not being a ‘traitorous embarrassment to the Goetia family.’"

Her voice had an edge of bitterness as she huffed in frustration. Then, catching herself, she chuckled sheepishly.

"Sorry. I woke you up just to ramble about dumb stuff."

"It’s not dumb at all!" Marcy protested. "You have every right to vent."

She frowned slightly. "Lady Stella… she’s complicated. Hard to read."

Marcy remembered her first encounter with Stella when the swan-like demon had come to pick up Octavia for the weekend. Even disguised as a demon, Marcy had tried to be as polite as possible.

Stella barely acknowledged her. At least she hadn’t insulted her. Yet.

If she ever found out Marcy was human… well, that was a terrifying thought.

"Yeah, no kidding," Octavia muttered.

Then, in a voice tinged with sadness and a hint of jealousy, she added, "You’re lucky, Marcy. Your parents love each other. You have a big happy family."

"I bet your mom is sweet and caring. And your dad too."

Marcy blinked, looking momentarily shocked before her expression turned somber. She forced a sad smile.

"Yeah… They are. I… shouldn’t have run away from home, huh?"

Octavia immediately softened. "Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I wish I had a mother like that, you know?"

She lowered her gaze. "Dad does everything for me, and I’m grateful. But I can’t help wondering what it would be like if I had a mom like him. You get it, right?"

Marcy nodded in understanding.

"Since we’re on the topic of parents, do you wanna hear more about mine? We can go back to sleep if you’re too tired," Marcy offered.

"No, I wanna hear." Octavia shifted closer as Marcy sat beside her on the bed.

Marcy spoke fondly of her father—how he was brilliant, always challenging her with strategy board games and trivia shows.

Her mother was a fantastic baker, and Marcy loved helping her in the kitchen, especially when they made red velvet cupcakes with ube frosting.

"Wait, what’s ‘Ooh-bay’?" Octavia asked, confused.

Marcy grinned. "It’s pronounced ‘oo-beh.’ It’s a kind of sweet potato—well, technically a yam. Most are orange inside, but ubes are purple. They’re fluffy and sweet, perfect for desserts."

"Huh. Never thought you could make dessert with potatoes."

"Neither did I!" Marcy laughed, and the two girls giggled together.

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open, revealing Stolas, clad in a red robe, peeking in.

"Hello, girls. Hope you don’t mind me checking in. Though, I do wonder why you’re both still awake," he said, amused.

"Hey, Stolas," Marcy greeted. "We couldn’t sleep, so I was telling Octavia about my life on Earth."

"Yeah, and we don’t mind you checking in, Dad," Octavia added

"That’s good to know, but I think you two should get some rest. You wouldn’t want to wake up all grouchy, would you?" Stolas teased lightly.

"Of course not, Dad," Octavia rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t annoyed.

"Alright then. Goodnight, Marcy. Sweet dreams, Via." Stolas smiled warmly before closing the door.

As he walked down the hallway, he chuckled to himself, his heart warmed by his daughter's words.

"A wish for a kind mother, huh? Consider it granted."

Stolas had overheard more than just a snippet of their conversation. And now, he had an idea.

Thankfully, Stella was back at her own palace. Otherwise, things might get complicated.

All he needed to do was ask the girls for consent—after all, the plan involved a little magic.

The following day, Octavia and Marcy woke up feeling well-rested.

Octavia, as usual, left her hair a frizzy mess, but she helped Marcy get dressed. After their morning routines, they made their way to the kitchen—only to find Stolas already seated at the dining table.

He wore his usual royal red tunic with gold buttons, a black hat with a crown, and his signature faux fur cape. In his hands, he held the grimoire, its gold-accented blue cover gleaming under the dim chandelier light.

"Good morning, girls! I take it you both slept well?" Stolas greeted cheerfully.

"Morning, Dad," Octavia greeted with a small smile.

"Yeah, we actually slept great!" Marcy said, matching his enthusiasm.

Octavia chuckled at that—Marcy and Stolas had a lot in common.

"Good, good," Stolas chuckled, then his expression turned a bit sheepish. "I, uh… have a confession."

Octavia and Marcy exchanged a wary glance.

"I may have overheard your conversation about mothers last night," he admitted guiltily.

"It wasn’t intentional! I was on my way to bed when I heard you two talking. I’m sorry for invading your privacy."

The girls looked at each other in mild shock, then back at Stolas. They knew he never meant harm.

"It’s okay, Dad," Octavia assured him. "But… what does that have to do with your grimoire?"

A mischievous glint appeared in Stolas' eyes as he stood.

"I had an idea!" he announced dramatically. "I’m not trying to replace your mother, Via, but… I thought it might be fun to, well, become a mother. Just for a day!"

Octavia stared. "Wait. You want to use magic… to turn into a woman?"

Marcy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "Oh my gosh! I LOVE a good gender-swap trope! This is going to be so fun!"

Octavia turned to her. "Gender what now?"

"It’s a thing in stories! When a character magically turns into the opposite gender!" Marcy explained.

Stolas laughed. "Indeed! And, well… would you mind if I tried it?"

Octavia hesitated. The idea was weird… but maybe it could be fun.

After a pause, she nodded. "Sure. I don’t mind."

"Then let’s begin!" Stolas grinned, flipping through the grimoire.

What followed was a day of magic, mayhem, and unexpected heartwarming moments—including a very startled Blitzo.

And, by the end of it, Octavia realized something:

She might have wished for a kind mother… but she wouldn’t trade her dad for anything.

Not even for magic.

Chapter Text

Boredom. No one likes that feeling. But Anne felt it anyway.

Everyone at I.M.P. had found something to do—Loona was hanging out at Stylish Occult, while Moxxie and Millie were off on a date somewhere in Pride.

That left just her and Blitz in his cramped apartment space. Speaking of Blitz, he was in an unusually good mood, completely absorbed in sketching horses with crayons like an excitable impling.

Meanwhile, Anne lay sprawled on his couch, sighing dramatically.

Blitz, without looking up from his drawing, finally spoke. "C'mon, kid. Are you really gonna lounge there all day? Thought you’d at least scroll through your phone or something."

"I want to, but I’m sick of looking at the same stuff! I need something new!" she groaned, tossing her arms in the air.

Suddenly, she sat up, eyes lighting up with an idea. "Hey, Blitz! Can we stop by I.M.P. Headquarters?"

Blitz raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop coloring.

"I know it’s the weekend, obviously, but I’m so bored, and I really want to do some combat training!"

That got his attention. Blitz set his crayons down and turned to face her. His expression was skeptical.

"Are you sure you can handle combat training again? You were sore as hell last week—could barely move without whining."

"I’m fine! I recover fast, and I totally can handle it," Anne insisted. "Come on, please?"

Blitz sighed, rolling his eyes at her pleading expression. "Fine. But we’re keeping it light, got it?"

Anne smirked. "Fine, but you’ll see—I’m ready for advanced challenges again."

Blitz chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh yeah? Wanna bet?"

"Heck yeah!" she grinned, already bouncing up from the couch.

"Alright, alright, hold your horses, kid." Blitz chuckled again. "But first, help me clean up."

Anne groaned but agreed, helping him stash the crayons and loose papers into the TV stand. Once everything was tidied, she rushed to change into her “fancy intern” outfit while Blitz followed suit.

A short van ride later, they arrived at I.M.P. Headquarters.

True to his word, Blitz started Anne off with light training. But the moment he saw how effortlessly she dodged his punches and executed a swift spinning kick to his ankles, he dialed it up to playful roughhousing.

Anne was good. For a human, anyway.

Then came the real challenge.

"Alright, kid," Blitz said, grinning. "Time to fight as an imp."

Thanks to Stolas’ grimoire, Anne had an imp disguise. But when she shifted forms and attempted to fight, things quickly went downhill.

Blitz dodged every move with ease, barely breaking a sweat.

"Don’t force your tail to attack—become one with it," Blitz instructed.

But Anne’s imp tail just wouldn’t cooperate. No matter how hard she tried, it either moved awkwardly or got in her way.

She did manage to master using her imp horns for headbutts and utilized her human reflexes even in her new form, but the tail? A disaster.

Eventually, Blitz called it. "Not bad, kid. Still gotta work on the tail thing, but other than that—good job."

Anne, panting and sweaty, gave a breathy "Thanks."

She gulped down some bottled water from the office fridge. But as she cooled down, her expression darkened.

"What’s with the face?" Blitz asked.

"I really want to master using my tail like a whiplash, but I just can’t! It sucks!"

"You’ll get the hang of it," Blitz assured. "Just be patient."

Anne pouted. Then an idea struck her. A bad one.

"...What if Stolas’ spellbook has something that can help?"

Blitz’s eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, hell no! You are not using that book for this!"

"It’s just a peek!" Anne countered. "Besides, you use the book to run an illegal business!"

"Yeah, and news flash, you’re part of it, so don’t play innocent!" Blitz shot back. "Anyway, no means no."

Anne ignored him. Before he could stop her, she bolted into his office.

Blitz growled and rushed after her, trying to block the dusty safe that held the grimoire.

After some shoving, Anne reached the safe and punched in a code. The lock clicked.

"How did you know the passcode?!" Blitz demanded.

"I didn’t! I just guessed the first four numbers, and it worked!" Anne smirked as she pulled out the grimoire, flipping through the pages.

Blitz groaned. "Please, kid. Put it back. Stolas will kill me if we use it for—"

"Just one small test," Anne promised, already attempting to recite a spell.

Nothing happened.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

Frustrated, she sighed and prepared to close the book—when a bug landed on the pages.

"Shoo!" Anne waved her hand, but the bug refused to move.

Annoyed, she took off her shoe to swat it.

"Anne, don’t—"

THWACK!

The moment her shoe touched the page, a violent explosion rocked the room.

Blitz was sent flying into the reception desk. Anne slammed into a trunk, her vision going black.

Anne groaned as she came to, rubbing her head.

Something felt... off.

Her curls were gone. Instead, her hands brushed against... horns.

Her hands? Red. Gloved.

Her arms? Red, too. With white scars.

Her face? Itchy.

Panic set in.

She screamed.

But the sound that came out? Blitz’s voice.

Another scream followed—her voice.

Anne whipped around—only to see herself, eyes wide with horror.

"WHY THE HELL AM I LOOKING AT MYSELF?!" Blitz—now in her body—screamed.

Anne could barely breathe. "I should be asking you the same thing!"

But then, she gasped, her eyes wide with realization.

"Uh oh. I think.. I think I accidently used my shoe to activate a spell that swaps our bodies!"

Hearing that, Blitz suddenly snapped.

"You switched our bodies?!" Blitz yelled. "I’M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Terrified, Anne bolted to the meeting room, slamming the door behind her.

Blitz kicked it open.

Panicking, she fumbled in his coat and pulled out his gun.

"S-stay back!" she stammered. "I’m sorry, okay?! But you being mad in my body isn’t helping!"

Blitz—as Anne—froze. Seeing himself  whimper was... unsettling.

He sighed. "Fine. I forgive you. But never do that again. Got it?"

Anne nodded quickly, lowering the gun.

"Good. Now, let’s fix this before someone finds out."

They tried reversing the spell. No luck.

They called Loona. Phone died.

They decided to visit Stolas.

But on the way to a mechanic, they ran into Blitz’s ex.

Verosika.

Blitz panicked. Anne—still in his body—was furious at how Verosika treated him.

After a tense exchange (and Anne almost attacking a succubus), they escaped.

But the real breaking point?

Anne started hearing Blitz’s worst fears—echoing in her head.

"You’re going to die alone."

She panicked. Fled.

Blitz found her.

He understood.

They talked. Opened up.

Anne promised to let him handle his own demons.

Blitz, in return, admitted he appreciated how fiercely she defended him.

At Stolas’ palace, he listened.

Instead of scolding them, he forgave them.

He reversed the spell.

Anne was herself again. Blitz was himself again.

And, to Anne’s amusement, Blitz blushed at Stolas’ concern.

After some much-needed tea (and teasing), they headed home—agreeing no one would ever hear about this.

That night, as they watched Suspicion Island with Loona, she asked:

"So... what was that thing you needed help with earlier?"

Anne and Blitz exchanged a glance.

"Eh," Anne shrugged. "Just a mundane weekend."

And with that, the best chaotic day of their lives came to an end.

Chapter Text

“Blitz?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is there a girl outside begging to reunite with her ‘one true love’ in the afterlife?”

Blitzo groaned. “Oh, for fu—” He stopped himself. Right. There’s a kid here. No cursing.

Anne stood by the door, arms crossed, her expression a mix of exasperation and resignation. “I’ve had one interaction with her, and I swear she drained my soul.”

“That’s just a target—don’t let her in!”

A sharp, grating noise screeched from outside, making both of them wince and cover their ears.

“YOU CANNOT SEPARATE US! FOR THE LOVE BETWEEN BLITZY-KUUN AND ME IS STRONGER THAN THIS DOOR!”

Anne let out a long-suffering sigh. “She’s a Wattpad girlie, isn’t she?”

Blitzo blinked. “A what?”

“Going off the Japanese honorifics, I’m guessing she’s also into anime. Probably shoujo.” Anne said matter-of-factly. “Most likely writes smut of celebrities. What’s her name?”

Blitzo spluttered. “Emberlynn. Why does that matter?”

Anne bolted to the computer and quickly typed “Hell fanfiction sites” into the search engine. Unsurprisingly, one of the first results was HellPad.

Because of course, there’s a Wattpad in Hell.

“Did the client mention her username?” Anne asked.

“It’s Sparklekitty666!” the girl outside announced proudly.

“Found her!” Anne clicked on one of the stories under the username, only to immediately recoil, screaming as she fell back onto the floor.

Blitzo frowned. “What the hell did that bitch write about?”

Anne curled into herself, covering her eyes as if it would erase what she just saw. “SO. MUCH. PORN!”

Blitzo rolled his eyes and walked over to look at the screen. “Oh, come on, it’s Hell. There’s way worse down here—AAAUUUGGGH WHAT THE SHIT?!”

Anne shot to her feet. “Run. We have to run.”

Blitzo barely had time to process before Anne bolted toward the window. “Out the window? Are you crazy?”

Anne turned to him, incredulous. “I’m sorry, you’re calling me crazy?”

A beat.

“Yeah, no. That’s fair.” Blitzo admitted. He rushed over, helping her unlatch the window. “On three. We aim for the dumpster.”

“Got it.”

“So, let me get this straight—you jumped out of an eight-story building because the door was compromised by a horny HellPad user?”

Blitzo and Anne lay in their respective hospital beds, heads bandaged, arms in slings.

Blitzo nodded. “Yes. Yes, we did.”

“And why, exactly, did you think that was a good idea?”

“It made sense at the time,” Anne admitted.

The doctor sighed, shaking his head. Of all the days for Buckzo’s usual doctor to be out, why today?

Chapter Text

Normally, Anne wasn't one for assassination missions. Today, though, curiosity won over hesitation.

The client had claimed they were killed by a man-eating beast in Antarctica, something so bizarre it almost sounded like a joke. That alone was enough to pique Anne’s interest.

Blitz, Millie, and Moxxie were just as intrigued, agreeing to take the case and identify the creature responsible.

When Anne asked to tag along, the three imps exchanged uncertain glances.

"Ya sure about that, hon?" Millie asked after a pause, concern lining her voice.

"Yeah, kid, this ain't some episode of Deadliest Catch," Blitz added, folding his arms. "This could be a one-way ticket to an icy grave. You really think you're ready?"

"I'm sure," Anne said firmly, standing tall despite her smaller stature. "I might be too young for a gun, but I can still back you guys up."

It took a lot of back-and-forth, but eventually, they relented.

Fully geared up in thick winter clothing and armed to the teeth—except for Loona, who stayed behind to run the front desk—they set off to Antarctica, courtesy of Blitz's Asmodean Crystal.

The portal spat them out into a frozen wasteland with a jarring lurch.

"Big jump," Blitz muttered, shaking off the dizziness.

They immediately started shivering and huffing. It was brutally cold, even by Hellborn standards.

"Christ on a stick, I'm freezing my little red cock off! Where the hell is that thing supposed to be?" Blitz barked, teeth chattering.

Anne, thankfully, missed part of that profanity thanks to the wind howling in her ears.

"The client said near the research station!" Millie shouted over the gale.

"You mean... that one?" Moxxie asked, pointing to a battered station up ahead. Its door banged loudly in the wind, swinging open and shut.

Blitz exhaled a shaky breath, and they pressed forward.

Inside the station, the atmosphere turned immediately grim.

Moxxie grimaced, stepping carefully over debris. "Oh, crumbs. That can't be good."

"Oh sh—yikes," Blitz corrected himself, catching a glimpse inside.

Anne edged around Blitz to get a look, only to stumble back in horror.

The room was filled with corpses, their bodies mangled in ways that suggested sheer brutality.

"What happened here?" Moxxie whispered.

"That's what I wanna know," Anne replied, voice shaking.

Millie knelt beside one of the bodies, examining the wounds. "These guys were shredded. I’ve seen Wrath beasts do less damage."

"What could've done this?" Moxxie wondered aloud.

Before anyone could guess, a low, guttural roar vibrated through the station walls.

They turned toward the sound just as a hulking silhouette appeared through the snowstorm.

"Uh, that, probably," Blitz said dryly, eyes narrowing.

"Okay, Moxxie, up top! Millie, Anne, cover the doors. I got center!" Blitz ordered.

"Yes, sir!" Moxxie saluted before scrambling up to a higher position, Anne and Millie taking cover below.

The figure became clearer—a massive leopard seal, barreling toward them with deadly intent.

"You got him, Mox?" Blitz called out, voice trembling from both cold and adrenaline.

"Locked on!" Moxxie answered, lining up his shot.

"Sweet, let's turn this ice bitch into Swiss cheese!" Blitz whooped.

Anne stifled a giggle, focusing on the entrance.

Blitz unloaded a barrage of bullets into the beast. They barely scratched it. Moxxie’s first shot missed, but after a breath to steady himself, he squeezed off another round.

The bullet hit true, blasting the creature’s head apart.

"Guess he met his match," Blitz quipped, lowering his weapon.

"Eat shit in Hell, polar slut! Good shootin', Mox! Now let's bounce before somethin' else—"

"Hold it," Millie interrupted, crouching beside the corpse. She pointed to several deep gashes and bite marks that no bullet could have made.

Anne frowned, tracing a finger near one of the wounds. "Those definitely look like bite marks."

"Sh-sh-shit," Blitz stammered, stepping back.

"What? What's wrong?" Moxxie asked, confused.

"This idiot wasn't charging us!" Blitz shouted. "He was running away!"

Millie's face paled. "From something bigger."

Anne whipped her head around. "From what?!"

"Look!" Moxxie yelled, pointing up.

Perched atop a nearby glacier was a penguin, glaring down at them with an unsettling, blood-soaked stare.

Anne froze, half-terrified, half-incredulous. "What the hell...?"

"Drop him!" Blitz barked.

Moxxie fired, and the penguin crumpled lifelessly into the snow.

They barely had time to breathe before dozens—no, hundreds—more penguins emerged from the whiteout, teeth bared.

"Fuck, that's like ten!" Blitz yelped.

"I think it's more than ten!" Anne shouted back.

"Maybe they're nice!" Millie offered weakly, giving a nervous laugh.

"Hopefully," Anne muttered, hope quickly draining from her face.

Blitz read the situation instantly. "They're not! RUUUN!"

He was already sprinting before the words finished leaving his mouth.

The group bolted back to the station, the bloodthirsty penguins shrieking as they closed in.

Inside, Blitz and Anne slammed the door shut while Moxxie and Millie braced it with overturned furniture.

"Sir, can you please get us outta here?!" Moxxie cried, firing through the boarded-up windows.

"Yeah! I don't want to be bird food!" Anne yelled, frantically helping Millie.

Blitz cursed under his breath, frantically fiddling with his wrist crystal.

"Fucking wrist crystal!"

"What's the holdup?!" Millie snapped.

"I can't just—make it go! I'm still learning, alright?!"

Anne caught Blitz’s panicked expression and softened. She remembered how chaotic everything had been with the crystal after the last full moon.

Blitz slammed the crystal on the floor, bit it, shook it—but nothing worked.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it!"

He dropped onto his back, exhausted and furious.

"You can’t brute-force it!" Millie snapped. "It’s from Lust! You gotta caress it!"

"I suck at all that soft shit," Blitz growled, sitting up, frustration dripping from his voice.

"Think happy thoughts," Anne suggested earnestly.

Blitz shot her a look. "Happy thoughts? Seriously?"

"Just try! Pretend you're petting a horse or something!"

"Ok, ok!" Blitz barked. Taking a breath, he tentatively stroked the crystal, muttering under his breath.

"Pretend it's a horse, pretend it's a horse, pretend it's a horse."

Slowly, the crystal glowed—and the portal opened.

Blitz grinned widely. "Well, I'll be damned. Good call, kid."

"Thanks. Now move it before we're penguin chow!" Anne shouted, ushering everyone through.

Blitz dove into the portal, dragging Anne behind him. Moxxie scrambled in next.

Millie, last through, spotted a leaking gas canister near the entrance.

Grinning wickedly, she struck a match and tossed it through the portal.

"Eat this, suckahs!" she shouted gleefully.

The explosion rocked the landscape, scattering burning penguins across the ice.

Everyone in Hell barely caught a glimpse of the fiery blast before the portal snapped shut behind them.

Chapter Text

It was the morning after Stolas had attended a party thrown by Verosika Mayday, one of Hell’s most renowned popstars. The event had taken place on Earth, and its theme had been—if anything—a bit petty.

Somehow, Stolas had returned to his palace, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember how.

The first sensation he experienced upon waking was a sharp, pulsing headache, quickly followed by a violent urge to rush to the bathroom and vomit.

Marcy, startled awake by the sounds of retching and coughing, got up from Octavia’s personal couch and quietly left the bedroom while Octavia remained fast asleep. (For a 13-year-old human learning Goetian magic, Marcy’s hearing was impressively sharp.)

Stella was nowhere to be seen—a relief. The swan was usually off spending time at her brother Andrealphus’ palace anyway.

Marcy first checked the bathroom, but it was empty. So, she made her way to Stolas’ bedroom.

There, she found him not asleep but lying in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling in a vacant, unfocused stare.

“...Stolas?” Marcy said softly, causing the owl prince to jolt slightly as he sat up.

“Who’s there?”

Upon seeing Marcy, his expression softened and he let out a small sigh of relief, offering a faint smile.

“Oh, it’s just you. Good morning, dear.”

“Good morning,” Marcy replied, forcing a smile in return.

But Stolas could sense that something was off. “Is something troubling you, darling?”

Without hesitation, Marcy confessed that she’d heard him throwing up and wanted to make sure he was alright.

Stolas stared at her for a moment before responding, “Well… I did feel nauseous for a short while, but I’m alright now.”

He gave a quiet chuckle before adding, “You’re always so concerned about my well-being, and about Via’s too. I'm grateful for that, truly.”

“Of course I care about you both. You’re my friends, and you’ve helped me so much already. I just want to see you and Octavia happy,” Marcy said as she sat beside him.

“I know, Marcy. But I also want you to enjoy your youth. Don’t worry about me too much. And Via will be eighteen soon—she wouldn’t want you burdened either,” Stolas said gently but seriously.

Marcy fell silent, her mind returning to the day she’d tried using a spell to save Stolas’ life—receiving his injuries in the process. The last thing she remembered was his panicked face before everything faded to black.

That memory still haunted her, if only a little.

“Okay,” she eventually replied.

Stolas reached out, placing his hand gently on her head. “Good girl.”

Just as he lifted his hand away, Marcy asked, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but... who was the incubus that brought you home last night?”

Stolas looked taken aback. “I... I don’t know what you mean. Someone brought me home?”

He pressed a hand to his temple, trying to recall, but came up empty. “I can’t remember.”

He then asked Marcy what she had seen. She explained that she had watched an incubus with white hair, wearing a white tank top and gray pants, guide Stolas back into the palace after stepping out of a portal created by an Asmodean crystal.

“And... what happened next?” he asked.

“You looked dazed. When the incubus saw me watching, he asked me to help take you to your room. He said you were drunk.”

“I was... intoxicated? But why can’t I remember any of this? Not even the party itself…”

Still puzzled, Stolas rubbed his forehead again.

“Maybe there’s a spell that can help you remember,” Marcy suggested.

“Yes... yes, that’s a good idea,” Stolas agreed. He rose and moved to his bookshelves, pulling down his grimoire and flipping through its pages.

Eventually, he found a spell he deemed suitable.

Curious, Marcy leaned over. “A memory projection spell?”

“Apparently, it allows even forgotten or subconscious memories to be viewed visually,” Stolas explained.

“Should we try it?” Marcy asked cautiously.

“It’s worth a shot,” he said. And with that, he recited the spell, focusing deeply.

Soon, glowing memory projections floated around the room in translucent, bubble-like forms.

Some were happy—Stolas meeting Blitz for the first time, Octavia’s birth—while others were neutral or painfully unpleasant.

Stolas and Marcy searched carefully. Then Marcy spotted a projection with a dimmer glow and gently pulled it toward her. Her eyes widened in shock.

“What is it?” Stolas asked, alarmed by her expression.

“You... you should see for yourself,” she said, handing it to him.

He watched the memory play out—Blitz attempting to apologize to him at the party, and Stolas brushing him off, clearly intoxicated.

“I... I rejected his apology,” Stolas murmured, guilt washing over him. It stunned him that Blitz had even attended.

Then, he heard singing.

He scanned the room and spotted the source—a glowing memory of himself singing about how Blitz had hurt him.

Marcy looked disappointed. “Stolas... You told me you wouldn’t go to that party just to hate on Blitz. That you’d take a small drink and leave.”

“I don’t hate him! I could never—”

“Then why sing that song? The brightest memories are the ones you remember clearly.”

“I was upset... but that doesn’t mean I—wait, what’s this?”

He zoomed in on part of the projection he hadn’t noticed before—and gasped.

Blitz had been standing among the guests, hidden in the crowd, his expression pained.

“He was there the whole time…”

Stolas watched another memory—Blitz apologizing again, this time sincerely.

“The point is, I said sorry a lot today, and I didn’t mean any of it. But the one person I did want to apologize to... was you, Stolas,” Blitz had said.

Tears stung Stolas’ eyes as he watched his own cruel, petty behavior.

Before he could hide his face in shame, another unfamiliar voice echoed from a projection.

Marcy recognized it. “That’s the incubus I saw!”

They watched as the incubus knelt before Stolas, praising his singing—much to Blitz’s visible irritation—and invited him to dance.

Blitz let Stolas go without protest, but his face betrayed heartbreak.

Marcy searched again and found another dimly glowing memory. In it, Stolas danced with the incubus, smiling. Then the incubus kissed him.

Worse—Stolas kissed him back.

Marcy respectfully turned away from the intimate scene.

Stolas replayed the memory, searching the surroundings—and there was Blitz, upstairs by the railing, seated next to Verosika, looking devastated.

His face shifted from sorrow to rage as he gripped the rail and yelled something out in anguish.

“Blitz... really does care about me?” Stolas whispered.

The memory repeated.

Then the tears finally fell.

“What... what have I done?”

He buried his face in his hands, guilt and regret consuming him.

Marcy placed a hand gently on his shoulder. He didn’t flinch.

“I did all that to him. I pushed him away. What kind of person am I?” he asked aloud, self-loathing in his voice.

He touched his beak, thinking of the kiss.

“I can’t believe I kissed that incubus... Why was I so foolish?!”

Marcy calmly tried to soothe him. He inhaled sharply and tried to steady himself.

“At least he brought you home safely. He didn’t take advantage of you. That counts for something,” she offered.

To support her point, she sought another memory—and found it. In it, the incubus respectfully left Stolas to rest after guiding him to his room, without further contact.

Stolas relaxed, but the guilt lingered.

“I wish I hadn’t gotten drunk. I wish I could take it all back… apologize for how I treated him. But I’ve probably lost him now.”

“At this point, he might think you’ve moved on. It’ll be hard to explain. Maybe give him space first—think about how you can grow.”

Stolas wiped his eyes and gave a faint smile.

“Yes. You’re right. I’ll become better—not just for Blitz, but for you and Via too.”

He pulled Marcy into a grateful hug. She returned it, relieved he’d accepted her guidance.

After the hug, Stolas reversed the spell, shelved his grimoire, and headed to the door. He paused briefly and looked back at her.

“Let’s call Via for breakfast, shall we? I wouldn’t want to eat without her.”

Marcy smiled. “Yes.”

Together, they went to wake Octavia.

Chapter Text

Tonight had been rough when Blitz came back home from his night out at Ozzie’s with Stolas.

At least Anne helped the imp feel better after a few hours of talking and even some cuddling that turned into a noogie and a burst of laughter.

The night did not end there.

Blitz and Anne were just calming down from laughing when Blitz’s phone began ringing on the couch. Curious, he picked it up. His eyes widened in shock when he saw the caller ID.

“Who’s that on the phone, Blitz?” Anne asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Blitz stood up, expression firm. “It’s Loona. She wants me to pick her up tonight. I don’t think she enjoyed that party, so I’m going to get her right now.”

Anne stood as well. “I can come with you, if you want.”

Blitz hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah... okay.”

With that settled, Anne used her transformation spell and shifted into her imp disguise, red skin, small horns, and a tail. She tied her hair with a blue scrunchie to match the simple blue dress she chose. Blitz briefly went to the bathroom to wash his face.

They then headed out, got in the I.M.P. van, and drove to the Gluttony ring.

The entire ride was silent. Anne and Blitz shared a glance of concern, both hoping Loona was not too upset.

Meanwhile, Loona, wearing a red dress with a pentagram on the front instead of her usual outfit, stood outside Beelzebub’s mansion. She had been invited by Vortex, a fellow hellhound. She did not mind being there at first, until she ran into Vikki, a hellhound who had bullied her at a previous party.

Loona decided it was best to go home and called Blitz.

“So stupid. I shouldn’t have come,” she muttered sadly.

The I.M.P van pulled up a moment later. Blitz rolled down the window. Anne watched as Loona immediately walked over, face still downcast.

“Hey, Loonie. How you doin’? You alright?” Blitz asked softly.

Loona climbed into the van. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanna go.”

“Sorry the party didn’t work out,” Anne added gently.

Loona blinked in surprise, spotting Anne in her imp form. A faint smile appeared. “It’s fine. Parties were never my thing anyway.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re here to take you home,” Blitz said before Anne could speak again.

Before he could start the engine, a male imp nearby noticed him. “He-hey, that sounds like Blitzo!”

“The o is silent, asshole!” Blitz snapped, making Anne and Loona glance at him in surprise.

“I knew it was you! Where you been? You here for the party?” the imp asked.

“N-no, I’m just here picking up my daughter,” Blitz replied quickly.

“Oh, you have a daughter now?”

“Adopted!” Loona snapped, annoyed.

“Oh, come on, you’re already leaving? Things just started. Come in and show us all up again.”

Blitz shook his head. “No, thank you. Loonie wants to head back.”

Before he could say more, a tall hellhound approached, handsome and confident. Loona smiled bashfully. Anne noticed and smirked.

The hellhound grinned. “The hottie next to you wants to leave?”

Blitz growled. “Watch it!”

Loona ignored his protectiveness, still smiling. “I mean… we could stay a little longer.”

Blitz rubbed his temples. “I think we need to go, okay? It’s been a long night.”

Loona gave him pleading puppy eyes. “These people know you. Come on. I wanna give this another try. Please?”

Blitz sighed. “Okay… fine. Maybe just one drink.”

Inside the party, music pounded through the mansion. Lights shimmered. Anne stayed close to Loona and Blitz, trying to blend in with her disguise. They were soon greeted by Vortex.

“Hey, Loona. Didn’t know you brought friends. I’m Vortex,” he said, offering a hand to Anne.

“Anne. Nice to meet you,” she said, managing a friendly smile.

Before long, Beelzebub herself appeared. Tall, radiant, with a crown of flames and a chicken leg in hand. She eyed Anne curiously but smirked. “Well, look at that. Didn’t know Blitz hired someone stylish.”

Anne nodded politely. “Just here to help out.”

Things escalated when Blitz was challenged to a drinking contest. Anne and Loona watched nervously as Blitz drank keg after keg, the crowd chanting his name.

“Come on Blitz! You got this!” Loona shouted.

Blitz finished an entire keg and climbed on top of it. “Who’s the queen now?!”

Beelzebub laughed. “Respect, imp boy.”

Moments later, Blitz passed out.

As the party continued, Loona spent time laughing with a few other hellhounds, including Vortex. Anne sat by her side, occasionally chatting with them. Loona seemed more relaxed than before.

Vortex tapped Loona’s shoulder. “Hey, I don’t wanna be a buzzkill, but your dad… he’s kind of out of control.”

Beelzebub stepped up, looking concerned. “Yeah. He’s wasted and kind of causing trouble. Maybe check on him?”

Loona got defensive, but eventually sighed. “Fine. I’ll check.”

She found Blitz kissing another imp.

“Oh, piss on a dick!” she yelled, yanking him away.

Blitz mumbled apologies while Anne hurried over.

“Come on,” Anne said, slipping under his arm. “Bathroom. Now. Before you puke on someone’s shoes.”

Blitz protested but stumbled along with Anne’s help. She guided him to the nearest bathroom, holding him steady as he finally threw up into the sink.

Loona arrived at the door. “Thanks, Anne.”

Anne shrugged. “He needed it.”

After cleaning him up, they helped Blitz back to the van. Loona drove while Anne sat beside Blitz, making sure he did not choke or fall over.

Back at the apartment, Loona laid Blitz on the couch, covered him with a blanket, and handed him water.

“I had a really shitty day…” Blitz muttered.

Loona sighed. “That why you drank five gallons of who-knows-what?”

Blitz mumbled about dying alone.

Loona softened. “I’ll be there, Dad.”

She draped the blanket over him and turned off the lights.

Anne quietly watched from the doorway, making sure everything was calm, then followed Loona to the hall as the apartment finally fell silent.