Chapter Text
The weeks after the Anti-Blitzø party had been hell.
Literal hell.
And sure, Blitzo already lived in Hell—but this? This felt like a whole new level of suffering.
He spent most nights staring up at the cracked ceiling of his apartment, unable to sleep, replaying every single word he’d exchanged with Stolas over and over again like some kind of self-inflicted torture.
"Did you really never love me?"
The owl prince’s voice echoed in his mind, sharp and relentless.
And the worst part?
Blitzo knew the answer.
He had loved him.
He’d just been too much of a coward—too fucking broken—to say it out loud.
Moxxie and Millie had tried, more than once, to drag him out of his office at I.M.P., but Blitzo barely even looked up from his desk anymore. Even his insults had lost their bite. No edge, no fire—just empty words falling flat.
It was like someone had drained everything out of him.
Loona noticed too.
His daughter—usually glued to her phone and fueled by sarcasm—had started watching him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. The looks she gave him weren’t annoyed or bored.
They were worried.
By the third week, the symptoms started.
At first, it was the nausea in the mornings. Blitzo brushed it off as shitty eating habits and stress. Then came the exhaustion—real, bone-deep fatigue that had him dozing off at his desk, something that had literally never happened before.
More than once, the others found him slumped over paperwork, snoring softly.
“Boss,” Millie said one afternoon, her voice gentle in that way that always caught him off guard, “you sure you’re feelin’ alright? You look… different.”
“I’m fine,” Blitzo muttered automatically, not even lifting his head. His voice sounded dull—even to himself. “Just… dealin’ with emotional bullshit, okay? Gimme some space.”
Space didn’t help.
If anything, things got worse.
Smells became unbearable. Moxxie’s cologne, Millie’s coffee, even the ever-present sulfur in the air—everything made his stomach churn.
And the mood swings?
Yeah, Blitzo had always been a mess, but this was something else entirely. One second he was fine, the next he was locked in the bathroom, crying for no goddamn reason.
“Fuckin’ depression,” he muttered to himself, wiping his face with cheap toilet paper. “This is what I get for lettin’ people get close.”
Loona was the one who finally snapped.
Blitzo had been sprawled across the couch one Tuesday afternoon, feeling like he’d been run over by a flaming garbage truck, when she planted herself right in front of him, arms crossed.
“Okay, nope. We’re done,” she said flatly. “Get up. We’re going to the hospital.”
“What? No.” He waved her off weakly. “I’m fine, I just—”
“Dad.”
That stopped him.
Blitzo froze.
“You’ve been acting weird for weeks,” Loona continued, her voice sharper now. “You don’t eat, you sleep all the time, you throw up every morning—and yesterday you cried over a dog food commercial.”
“It was a really emotional commercial—”
“Now,” she snapped. “You walk, or I drag you. Your choice.”
…Yeah. He didn’t argue after that.
Thirty minutes later, Blitzo sat in the waiting room of Pride General Hospital, bouncing his leg anxiously.
“This is stupid,” he muttered. “I’m just depressed. Don’t need a doctor to confirm I’m a fuckin’ mess.”
“Mhm,” Loona hummed, not even looking up from her phone.
When they finally called him in, Blitzo felt something twist in his gut—nerves, maybe.
The doctor was tall, thin, with curved horns and a calm, practiced smile.
“Mr… Blitzø?” he read.
“Blitzo. The ‘o’ is silent.”
“I see. I’m Dr. Belphegor. What seems to be the problem?”
Blitzo shrugged.
“My kid thinks I’m dying. I think I’m just emotionally wrecked.”
“Let’s go over your symptoms.”
So he did.
Nausea. Fatigue. Mood swings. Sensitivity to smells.
The doctor listened, asked questions, took notes—and slowly, his expression shifted into something more thoughtful.
“Have you been sexually active recently?”
Blitzo blinked. “Uh… yeah. Like, a month and a half ago. Why?”
“Male or female partner?”
“…Male.”
Stolas flashed through his mind—feathers against dark sheets, soft sounds in the quiet.
Blitzo shoved the thought away.
“I’d like to run a few tests,” the doctor said.
“…For what exactly?”
“Just to rule something out.”
Fifteen minutes later, Blitzo was back in the office, tapping his fingers against his leg, anxiety crawling under his skin.
When the doctor returned, something felt… off.
“Mr. Blitzo,” he began carefully, “your results are back.”
“Yeah? Am I dying, or—”
“You’re pregnant.”
Silence.
Blitzo stared at him.
“…What?”
“You’re approximately six weeks along,” the doctor continued calmly. “And based on your hormone levels… it appears you’re carrying twins.”
The world tilted.
Pregnant.
Twins.
Six weeks.
Six weeks ago—
Stolas.
“That’s not— That’s impossible,” Blitzo said, his voice cracking. “I’m— I’m male, I can’t—”
“Imps are capable of pregnancy regardless of gender,” the doctor explained. “It’s rare, but not unheard of. Especially when powerful magic is involved.”
Magic.
Goetia magic.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Everything clicked into place all at once.
The nausea. The exhaustion. The emotional wreck he’d become.
“Mr. Blitzo?” the doctor asked. “Are you alright?”
No.
No, he really, really wasn’t.
He was pregnant.
With Stolas’s twins.
Stolas—the same demon who had just broken his heart into a thousand pieces.
Stolas—who probably never wanted to see him again.
How the hell was he supposed to tell him?
How the hell was he supposed to tell anyone?
“I— I need air,” Blitzo said suddenly, standing up too fast and nearly stumbling.
“We should discuss your options and prenatal care—”
But he was already gone.
Out the door. Down the hall.
Running.
Loona looked up the second he stepped back into the waiting room—and immediately froze at the look on his face.
“Dad… what happened?”
Blitzo just stared at her.
Twins.
Pregnant.
Six weeks.
“I…” The words stuck in his throat.
How do you tell your teenage daughter you’re pregnant?
How do you tell her it’s the babies of the demon prince you just pushed away?
How do you even begin to explain that your entire world just flipped upside down?
“We need to go home,” he said hoarsely.
“Now.”
Loona didn’t argue this time.
She just stood, watching him carefully as they walked out together—into a future that had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
Because if there was one thing Blitzo knew for sure—
This changed everything.
The drive back to the apartment was dead silent.
Loona drove the I.M.P. van with both hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly, her knuckles pale as she kept glancing at Blitzo through the rearview mirror.
Blitzo, meanwhile, sat slumped in the passenger seat, staring out the window without really seeing anything.
The red glow of the Pride Ring blurred past in streaks of neon and fire, but his mind was somewhere else entirely—stuck, looping, breaking apart over the same words.
Pregnant. Twins. Six weeks.
Six weeks ago.
The last time he’d been with Stolas—before everything went to shit. Before Ozzie’s. Before the Anti-Blitzø party. Before he realized just how badly he’d fallen for that stupid, pompous, beautiful owl prince.
“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
Loona didn’t say anything—but she pressed a little harder on the gas.
By the time they reached his apartment building, the silence had grown heavy enough to choke on.
Loona turned off the engine but didn’t move right away, her hands still resting on the wheel.
“…You gonna tell me what the hell happened in there?” she asked finally, her voice quieter than usual.
Blitzo closed his eyes.
“When we get upstairs.”
The elevator ride felt like torture.
Each passing floor made the weight in his chest heavier, tighter—like something was closing in around him. His thoughts spiraled faster the closer they got.
How do you tell your kid you’re pregnant?
How do you tell her they’re his?
The apartment door clicked shut behind them, the sound sharp in the silence.
Loona dropped onto the couch, arms crossed, fixing him with that look—the one that said she wasn’t going anywhere until she got answers.
“Okay,” she said. “Talk.”
Blitzo lingered near the door like he was considering bolting.
His hands were shaking. He shoved them into his pockets.
“It’s… complicated,” he started.
“Dad.” Her voice cut through him instantly. “Don’t. Just—don’t. What did the doctor say?”
He swallowed.
Really looked at her.
And yeah—there it was. Real worry. Not annoyance, not sarcasm.
Fear.
“He said…” Blitzo cleared his throat. “He said I’m not sick. Not like we thought.”
“…Then what?”
The words stuck.
Saying it out loud would make it real.
“I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
Loona blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“…What?” she said, her voice going a little high.
“Pregnant,” Blitzo repeated, the word coming easier now, like something breaking loose inside him. “Six weeks. And… it’s twins.”
Loona went very still.
Blitzo watched every emotion flicker across her face—shock, confusion, disbelief.
“…How?” she started, then stopped. “I mean—you’re… you’re a guy.”
“Yeah, apparently that doesn’t matter for imps,” Blitzo muttered. “Doctor said it’s rare, but not impossible. Especially when there’s…” He grimaced. “Powerful magic involved.”
Something clicked.
Loona’s expression sharpened.
“Powerful magic,” she repeated slowly. “…Like a Goetia prince?”
Blitzo didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
“…Fuck,” Loona whispered, dragging a hand down her face. “Dad… are they Stolas’s?”
The name hit like a punch.
Blitzo’s knees nearly gave out, and he dropped into the chair across from her.
“…Yeah,” he said quietly. “They have to be.”
Silence stretched between them again.
Loona’s gaze never left him, her mind clearly racing—putting everything together. The nausea. The exhaustion. The mood swings he’d brushed off as depression.
“Shit,” she muttered. “That explains a lot.”
“Yeah,” Blitzo huffed weakly. “Guess I wasn’t just losing my mind.”
“You kinda were,” she shot back, but there was no bite to it this time. Just… understanding.
A pause.
Then, softer—
“You really love him, don’t you?”
Blitzo shut his eyes.
There it was.
The truth he’d been dodging, buried under sarcasm and self-sabotage.
“…Yeah,” he whispered. “And I fucked it up. Completely.”
His voice cracked.
“And now this…”
“Does he know?”
“No!” The answer came out sharp, almost panicked. “No, and he can’t. Not after everything. Not after how we ended things.”
“Dad—”
“No, Loona, listen!” He stood abruptly, starting to pace. “The last thing he thinks is that I never loved him. That it was all just sex. How the hell do I walk up to him now and go, ‘Hey, by the way, I’m carrying your kids’? That’s insane!”
Loona leaned forward, elbows on her knees.
“…You’re gonna have to tell him eventually,” she said. “You can’t exactly hide this forever.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re gonna start showing. Because they’re gonna be born. Because they’re his, and he deserves to know.”
Blitzo stopped pacing.
“…Deserves to know?” he echoed.
“That’s not about you and him,” Loona said firmly. “That’s about them.”
Her voice softened just a little.
“And about what you want to do.”
And there it was.
The question he’d been avoiding since the doctor’s office.
Loona looked him straight in the eye.
“…Are you keeping them?”
Blitzo froze.
Everything inside him seemed to go quiet all at once.
Because yeah.
That was the question.
The real one.
Are you keeping them?
“I…” he started, then faltered.
The truth?
He had no fucking idea.
He was Blitzo.
A disaster. A screw-up. A guy who ruined every good thing he touched. Who pushed people away before they could leave him first.
He’d barely been holding himself together these past weeks.
How the hell was he supposed to take care of two lives?
But then—
He thought about Loona.
About the day he found her. Angry, defensive, hurting. About the impulsive decision to adopt her—and how, despite everything, it had been the best thing he’d ever done.
He thought about the two lives growing inside him right now.
Part of him.
Part of Stolas.
His kids.
“…I don’t know,” he admitted finally, his voice barely audible. “Loona, I don’t know anything right now.”
Loona nodded, like she’d expected that.
She stood, crossed the room, and rested a hand on his shoulder.
“That’s okay,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to figure it out tonight.”
Blitzo let out a shaky breath.
“But you do have to think about it,” she added. “For real.”
“…Yeah.”
A pause.
Then, softer—
“You’re not doing this alone, okay?” Loona said. “Whatever you decide… I’m here.”
And for the first time since the doctor’s words shattered his world—
Blitzo felt like he could breathe again.
Not much.
But enough.
He still didn’t know what he was going to do.
Didn’t know how he was going to handle this, or if he’d tell Stolas, or how the hell he was supposed to be a parent again when he still felt like a mess.
But he wasn’t alone.
And maybe—
Just maybe—
For now…
That was enough.
Somewhere between them, the question still lingered.
Unanswered.
But not quite as terrifying as before.
Are you keeping them?
Time.
He needed time.
And maybe… just maybe—
He’d find the answer.