Healing Blitzo

First Love

AN: Hey guys, been awhile. Due to a combination of commissions, personal stuff, summer being hell, and a new job that makes me work late at nights, fiction has been slow, but I'm back to doing it and ready to post my main fics again so here we go!

***

Diving into his soul was still a weird feeling for Blitzo every time he did it, but he would not deny that he was getting used to it. He just wished that he could make it more than just the same black and starry background he kept seeing with all those orbs of his memories floating around. It wasn't that it wasn't pretty, but he just liked to see some change occasionally. He looked at the nearly millions of memories he had made in his one-hundred and twenty-year life. The average Imp lived up to two hundred and fifty and was close to reaching middle age, which made him realize how much he had done since his birth. All the good and so much of the bad. It made him really feel like he had wasted so much of his life in the past.

The only times he felt alive were when he was in the circus, his times with Zella, and everything that came after he adopted Loona. It wasn't much compared to all the years he spent trying to get revenge for his family's death and the years he spent self-suffering for the misery he had caused after said revenge was complete. He didn't read the bible; he was a demon after all, but there was a fitting quote: "Those who live by the sword die by the sword."

That's how he always thought he'd end up. Hell, that was what he wanted to end up for a long time until the past twenty years. And yet it was those twenty years of memories and good times he was fighting to stay alive and sane for.

"Are you ready for the next set of memories? We're getting close to the corrupted one," Rachmiel said as he walked towards Blitzo, who was still focused on the endless void before him.

"...Yeah, and I think I know what they're going to be about," Blitzo muttered as he thought about who else was left in his past that he had yet to really confront. He had seen him in some memories but never as the primary focus. He had been hoping they wouldn't have to see him that much because whenever he did, Blitzo felt the pain of guilt over what he had done to Fizzarolli. His best friend. His first love.

***

The memory they were in was a very familiar one to Blitzo. It showed the circus doing its usual ending act, with the crowd cheering for them as the clowns danced and performed. The hell horses leaping and galloping with their riders. The elephants blew their snouts, and Blitzo's family twirled in the air, landing on them as the fireworks went off and everyone posed in their final act. The crowd was cheering and clapping as the ringmaster bowed, followed by everyone else, before thanking them for coming and telling them about the open gift shop.

Once the show was over and the audience began to leave, many performers started to go off and wash up after another successful show. Some decided to stay back and still do a few tricks for the young ones, including a certain jester juggling fake wine bottles. He was a young Imp, around twelve years old, and wore a green clown outfit with red fuzzy buttons. His sleeves were a mix of green, pink, and white stripes, while his shoes were a funny, curved black pair. A traditional red clown nose was on his face, as was some slight white makeup on his cheeks and two red bells at the end of his black and white striped horns.

But the most crucial thing that Blitzo saw was the smile. The smile of someone who loved entertaining everyone and had the optimistic joy of a newborn child. Blitzo couldn't help but smile upon seeing it. It was always the most beautiful thing about Fizz.

The younger version of his ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend then let the wine bottles drop on his head and break, but since they were fake, they didn't cause any pain. The small crowd he had formed clapped for his encore act while he bowed in thanks. A few even threw flowers he caught with his teeth, thanks to his fantastic flexibility. Even to this day, a hundred years later, Blizo had yet to me anyone who was more flexible than Fizz. He walked away where a young Blitzo was waiting for him.