goetiahybird

[goetiahybird]

My papa and son just mucking around:

“Howdy y’all.” A.J.’s body shifted, morphing into a perfect replica of his grandad—down to the cocky smirk and mismatched pupils. He even planted his hands on his hips in a way that screamed Blitz. But then, just to really drive it home, he put on the thickest, most exaggerated Texan drawl imaginable. “I’m Blitz, the rootin’-tootin’-est imp this side of Hell! Yeehaw, partner!”

Blitz visibly recoiled, like he’d just been sucker-punched by the universe itself.

“Did you just…?” His voice trailed off, caught somewhere between shock, horror, and the slow realization that he was about to need so much therapy.

“Oh, it’s not big deal,” A.J. huffed, waving a dismissive hand. “I don’t pry into your stupid personal lives—”

“What the—?! This is so fuckin’ weird!” Blitz blurted, looking around like he was searching for an emergency exit that didn’t exist. “It’s like lookin’ into a goddamn mirror—except my grandson is starin’ back at me pretendin’ to be some cowboy reject!” His eye twitched. “You even got the attitude! What the hell kinda genetic curse is this?!”

“Genetics, bitch!” A.J. threw his arms out dramatically, like this was his Tony Award-winning performance.

“Please make it stop.” Blitz groaned, clutching his horns as if that would somehow help his spiraling sanity. “Why—why—why did you have to inherit your mother’s shapeshiftin’ abilities?! WHY?!”

Then A.J. doubled down on the Texan act, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat and grinning like he was about to break into a honky-tonk song.

“Well, howdy there, partner! I reckon we go wrangle up some varmints, eat some barbecue, and do a lil’ bit’a good ol’ fashioned square dancin’—yeehaw!”

Blitz screeched like a dying kettle and looked like he had been personally slapped:

“MY ACCENT IS NEW JERSIAN, NOT TEXAN, GODDAMN IT!” He threw his hands up, completely losing it. “This is—this is a violation of—I dunno—HELL LAW! Completely—oh shit, I sound like Stolas when your mother does a Shakespearean version of him. You really are your mother’s son.”

Blitz visibly recoiled, like he’d just been sucker-punched by the universe itself.

He could see it now—his husband, ever the dramatic ass, tilting his head with that insufferably smug yet endlessly endearing smile. Stolas would rest a hand against his cheek, feigning deep contemplation before oh-so-affectionately teasing him with that lilting, melodic voice Blitz secretly loved more than anything.

“Oh, darling, what’s wrong? You seem so bothered by this whole ’Texan and New Jersian accents are the same’ thing. Almost like how you insisted that Shakespearean and Received Pronunciation were the same—oh, but surely, accents don’t matter that much, right?”

Blitz groaned internally, rubbing his face like that might somehow block out the imaginary sass radiating from his husband’s voice.

Okay, okay— shut up, (affectionately) , Feathers. You made your damn point.

And, ugh, Stolas had a point. Not that Blitz would ever admit that out loud. It was just so typical of his fancy owl to store away every dumb little argument for moments like this, just to throw it back at him with that annoyingly adorable grin. And, damn it, Blitz loved that stupid bird. Even when he was being a know-it-all pain in the ass.

Still.

Texan and New Jersian were not the same. Just like RP and Shakespearean weren’t the same. There was a difference, damn it!

Meanwhile, outside the door, Snow Dust—who had been trying so hard to keep quiet—let out an involuntary snort. She slapped a paw over her mouth, but the damage was already done.

She wasn’t sure what she thought she’d get from eavesdropping, but this? This was so much better.

Realizing she wasn’t going to get any deeper answers from lurking in the hallway, she sighed and pushed open the bathroom door. Angel barely had time to react before she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

[goetiahybird]

10 posts!

[goetiahybird]

Preview of “The Hybrid”

“Well, yes, but what were you expecting? Just because we agreed to use your DNA doesn’t mean he or she will be full imp,” Stolas pointed out, distracted as he continued adjusting the egg. His hands twitched as he nudged it again. Then again. Then, unsatisfied, he started fussing with the blankets, fluffing them, readjusting the nest. Blitz watched him with an arched brow.

“So… what, you in nesting mode now?”

Stolas tsked in frustration. “It’s *off-centre!*”

“Babe.”

“I think it needs to be higher. Is there anywhere we can put it?”

“Like where?”

“I don’t know, a barn.”

Blitz blinked. “Why the fuck would we put it in a barn?”

“Because I’m a barn owl, Blitz! Why else?” Stolas threw his arms up, exasperated. “It should be higher!”

“And we’re protectin’ it from what predators, exactly?” Blitz snorted.

Stolas shot him an indignant glare, feathers puffing slightly, before letting out an irritated, territorial squawk. Blitz raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay! I’ll find somethin’ higher, Your Highness. Geez.” He muttered under his breath as he turned to search for a better spot. “Don’t argue with a territorial owl, got it.”

[goetiahybird]

Tell me your married without telling you’re married

[goetiahybird]

[goetiahybird]

This is what happens when I get caffeinated or drunk

Angel’s consciousness flickered, pulling him back into a world that felt all too familiar. Axel stood in the dim, warped landscape, the sights and sensations gnawing at the edges of his mind like an old wound. Then he saw her—T.J. Standing there as calm and poised as ever, her coal-black hair framing a face that once held his heart in its grasp. The demon he had loved. The devil who had killed him

“Why?” His voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

T.J. tilted her head, her upper eyes narrowing curiously while her lower pair glimmered with a fiery red gleam. She raised a hand in an elegant gesture and spoke with the exaggerated theatrics of someone reciting lines on a grand stage.

“Ah, but pray, thou must enlighten me, dear sir,” she said, her voice taking on a smooth, melodious cadence. “For thy question dances upon the winds of ambiguity. Dost thou wish me to pluck the answer from some ethereal void, or shalt thou furnish me with clearer musings?”

Axel blinked, completely caught off guard. “What?” he muttered in disbelief, rubbing a hand over his face. “What the hell are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed. “Why the hell are you talking like that?”

She gasped theatrically, placing a hand upon her chest as though mortally wounded by his words. “Good heavens! Thy tongue drips with cruelty most unkind! Must thou mock mine eloquence when it dost come so naturally?” She sighed deeply, shaking her head with dramatic flair. “Alas, I suppose subtlety is oft lost on those ensnared by mortal impatience.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” Axel groaned. “You’re worse than your father. You’re not just dramatic—you’re like him after five drinks and a full moon.”

T.J. smiled faintly, her expression almost smug. “Oh? Thou flatterest me most grandly. Perchance I shall take this as a compliment to mine artistry.”

“Don’t,” Axel snapped, his tone hardening. His hands balled into fists as his emotions broke free, spilling out in a torrent of grief and rage. “Stop dodging the question! You know what I mean! Why? You, the Goetia princess—the woman I married. We had Angel… Aria… You were supposed to love me. So why the hell did you kill me?”

T.J.’s smile faltered, though she maintained an air of cool detachment. “Ah, so the veil lifts, and at last thou dost speak plainly,” she murmured. “But dost thou truly seek the truth—or merely a villain to bear the weight of thine anguish?”

“Don’t twist my words!” Axel’s voice cracked as tears filled his eyes. “You were calm—so fucking calm! I begged… I screamed for you to stop! You didn’t even flinch. You didn’t hear me, did you? Could you? Could you even hear me?”

For a moment, silence stretched between them. T.J. studied him with a solemn intensity, her dramatic airs slipping away like a discarded mask. She stepped closer, her voice soft yet resolute.

“I heard thee,” she finally said, her gaze steady. “Every word. Every plea. And those screams shall haunt me long after this world crumbles to ash. But there are burdens one cannot flee. Choices one cannot undo, no matter the sorrow it leaves in its wake.”

Axel recoiled as if struck, shaking his head in disbelief. “You heard me… and still did it anyway. You still think you were justified—don’t you?”

“I think,” she answered quietly, “that we both are prisoners to the weight of our past. I think neither of us can find peace while these wounds remain unhealed.” She met his gaze, her lower eyes gleaming like embers in the dark. “So I ask thee now, Axel: What is it thou truly seekest from me? Retribution? Repentance? Or merely someone to blame?”

Her words echoed through the stillness, heavy with regret and truth. Axel stood frozen, struggling to find the answer even as the grief clawed at his heart.

[goetiahybird]

Sis? That you 😂

The Lost Princess AU. By drawingrebecca

(Poster 1)

[goetiahybird]

I love the fact that any jazzy or slow R&B music go with this scene

Truer love is hard to find~✨💗

BYE I’LL SEE YALL UNTIL SEASON 3 NO ONE TALK TO ME *SOBBING VIOLENTLY IN A CORNER* ✋😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[goetiahybird]

Like Father Like Daughter

Mood.

[goetiahybird]

“Okay I’m pretty sure Pops broke Dad during his time as commoner— I’m so sorry for you Via but at least Dad is trying I guess?”

Stolas attempts modern slang by zerna on twitter

[goetiahybird]

Probably me actually— how CUTE would I look with glasses? 🤭

[goetiahybird]

Don’t worry Dad. You’ll be okay

much love from your future daughter xoxo

Hey uh ... how're you doing Stols..?

@blitzomantic

Not the best....