#ALSO I JUST NOTICED MILLIE'S ARM ON HARVEST MOON

[blitzbuckz]

inner nightmare scenes showing Blitzø worries every time his team goes on missions. showing he genuinely cares for his crew and remembers all the times Millie was close to dying.

[gothicemoowl]

Push chapter 5: Spring Broken, a date with Destiny

NOTE: Sorry. I know I said harvest moon festival was first. But I got the order of episodes wrong.

Also I got this amazing idea for Verosika after watching apology tour!

Hope you like the direction

"Ever wonder 'bout what he's doin'?

How it all turned to lies?

Sometimes I think that it's better

To never ask why

Where there is desire, there is gonna be a flame

Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned

But just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die

You've gotta get up and try, try, try

Gotta get up and try, try, try

Gotta get up and try, try, try

Funny how the heart can be deceiving

More than just a couple times

Why do we fall in love so easy

Even when it's not right?" -Try, P!nk

“Business is booming!” Blitzø announces as they all walk into the building. “We were left with sixteen voicemails last night, none from Stolas! I told you guys, sinners live off vengeance!”

“Fuck yes!” Millie shouts. “I'm so ready to kill some mother fuckers!”

“That's the spirit Millie! We should all celebrate, drinks tonight after work? Who's with me?” Blitzø asks. 

“Sorry, I got a blind date tonight.” Millie says.

“Well…now you've lost the spirit, Mills.” Blitzø jokes. 

“I'm not having drinks with you.” Loona says.

“I got a date too.” Barbie says. 

“Ugh, are you still with that guy?” Loona asks. 

“Yeah, what of it?” Barbie asks her.

Loona just rolls her eyes. “He's such a prick.”

“Jesse is not a prick, he's…”

“He's an asshole and you could do so much better.” Loona says. 

“So, Millie, who's this blind date of yours?” Barbie asks, glaring a loona, making sure she's aware that she's ignoring her. 

“I don't know some guy named Bradly. I Really hope this one's different.” Millie says.

“His name is Bradly? Those are not good odds.” Blitzø says. 

"I know, but the people I've been dating are either guys who are too good for me, guys who aren't good enough but think they are, or guys who are nice but...we just don't click. Dating fucking sucks!" She complains. 

Blitzø nods. “That it does. Why do you think I haven't dated since-”

“Blitzø Buckzo?” Someone says behind them. “Is that you?”

They just made it to I.M.P when they heard it…

Blitzø smirks, recognizing the voice.

“Verosika mayday. How the hell have you been?” Blitzø asks, turning around to face her with a smile. 

“I've been great!” She says. “I'm doing a bit of freelance for one of the companies in the building. And they wanted to have me come in this week to lead their team during spring break.” 

“Wow, lucky them.” Blitzø says. “We should have you work for us sometime.”

“Oh, sweetie. You couldn't afford me.” She laughs. 

Blitzø does too. “I know you're joking…but we seriously couldn't.” 

“So, who's your team?” She asks, noticing the looks she's getting from Loona and Millie. 

“This is my daughter, Loona, my friend Millie, and you remember my sister, Barb.” 

She smiles. “Of course! Hello, Barbie. And did I hear you say daughter? You've been busy.” She jokes with a wink.

“I'm adopted!” Loona says quickly. “We're not- I'm not- he's…”

“I figured.” Verosika laughs. “It hasn't been that long. You're adorable.” She says.

Loona blinks. “...thanks?” 

“Come, meet everyone.” The succubus says, taking Blitzø's hand and pulling him forward.

“This is Apple, Josh, Kiki, Ace, Kat, Milky, and Coco.” She says. “This is Blitzø, my friend. Barbie wire, his sister, Loona, his daughter, and… I'm sorry, what was your name again?” She asks Millie. 

“Millie!” She says. “It's really nice to meet you, I've never met a popstar before.” She says. “How do you know my boss anyway?” 

“Oh.” Verosika crosses her arms and looks over at Blitzø before turning back to Millie. “We met at a party, had a blast, met at a few other parties, got…acquainted.” She smirks. 

Blitzø rolls his eyes. 

“And then he disappeared off the face of the hell.” She says. 

“That's a bit of an exaggeration!” Blitzø says. 

“True, you left a note.” She says, arms still crossed. “Great penmanship.”. 

“Figures.” Loona rolls her eyes. 

“You know, I'd really prefer if we let the past be the past. It was really nice to meet you all.” Blitzø says, shaking all their hands. “But we should probably head to work.” 

“Blitzø?” Verosika asks. 

Blitzø stops. “Yes?” 

“Maybe we could catch up? Talk?” Verosika says. “Maybe get a coffee or dinner later?” 

“Yeah, totally.” Blitzø says, not seriously meaning it. 

Don't get him wrong, Verosika is an amazing woman, but he knows what will happen if he gets too close to her. 

“You know what? My date just canceled, and I had this amazing reservation at Ozzie's.” Millie says.

Blitzø glares. “Millie-”

“You two should totally take it.” Millie interrupts. “It would be a great way for you two to catch up! You know Blitzø hasn't had a date in-”

“Millie!” Blitzø interrupts.

“Come on! It'll be fun!” Millie says. 

“I'm sure Verosika has better things to do then to go to a weird club with-”

Verosika looks at him, then takes his hand. “I'd be…up for that….actually.”

Blitzø looks up at her. “You…yeah?” 

“Yeah, it could be fun.” She says. “You've always been fun.” 

“Great, you two figure out the details, we'll get started on actually working.” Barbie takes the book from Blitzø and leaves with the other two.

“Tonight, after work. You in?” Verosika asks.

“Uhh well…”

{PAST:}

Blitzo was preparing Stolas's breakfast in the kitchen. 

“What was all that commotion downtown anyway?” One of the servants asks the other.

“Some imp circus is in town, they're so immature and stupid I don't understand why some demons enjoy that filth. Nothing good ever comes from the circus.”

“Uhm…Blitzo was from a circus.” The Imp says, looking over at Blitzo who wasn't looking at them, just getting the tray in front of him ready, acting like he's not listening. 

“That explains it.” She scoffs. 

Lays walks over to Blitzo. “Blitzo, is Stolas's breakfast ready?” 

Blitzo looks around and the two imps that were talking are gone. “Uh yeah sorry. I got it. Say, did she say something about an Imp circus?" Blitzo asks. “What's that about?

"Need I remind you, Blitzo, the consequences of sneaking out?" Lays asks. “Didn't you learn enough from yesterday's incident?” 

"I wasn't going to sneak out! Okay? I was just asking!" Blitzo defends. 

Lays gave him a warning look, then walked away. 

Blitzo picks up the tray and walks to Stolas's room smiling to himself. 

He has the perfect way of sneaking out, and it looks like the perfect time to make use of it.

They won't see it coming! 

“Good morning, Stolas!” Blitzø announces himself as he walks into the prince's room.

“Blitzo…good morning. How- um. How are you?”

‘Fucking sore and wishing I were anywhere else right now…’ he thought. 

“I'm great!” Blitzo lies. “I got your breakfast here…so.” 

Stolas nods. “Thank you, Blitzo. I know I can count on you…for everything.” He smiles. 

“Yeah, well I have to.” Blitzo says.

“Blitzo? What's wrong?” Stolas asks him, noticing the face he was making and the snark is his voice.

“Nothing. I'm fine.” He says. “Why?” He asks, panicked. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable yesterday?” Stolas asks. 

“What?” 

“I didn't see you at all last night, did I make you uncomfortable with my words at the park?” He asks. “I didn't mean to be too forward, I just…” Stolas looks away, the eyes in his head looking sad. 

Blitzo sighs. “No, you didn't I-” 

“What?” 

Blitzo pauses and licks his lips, trying to find the words. “I just don't know how to take or process it. It's hard, because you're a prince, a prince who happens to be engaged and-” 

“Ugh don't remind me!” Stolas whines, laying dramatically on the bed. 

“I'm sorry, it's just kind of impossible. You know?” Blitzo asks him. 

Stolas nods, getting up. “Yes, you're right. It's impossible to have the future I'd imagine together…but, it's not impossible to love each other anyway. To find our own way.” 

Blitzo raises an eyebrow. “What?” 

“What I mean is, even though we can't be together now, I love you just the same. You can choose to love me back, or not. But it doesn't change how I feel.” Stolas takes his hand. “They can't change how I feel.”

“Wow. Look at you thinking for yourself.” Blitzo jokes. 

“I learned from the best.” He says. “Besides, who knows what can change in a few years, right?” 

Blitzø smiles. “Yeah. Exactly.” 

Stolas finished eating, and Blitzø helped him get dressed. 

All seemed to just return back to normal…

But it was also completely different somehow. 

Stolas loved him?

Really?

How was that even possible? 

{Present:}

“Blitzø?” Verosika asks. “You in or what?” 

Blitzø smiles. “Yeah…sounds fun.” 

“Great, I'll see you then.” She says. 

{Later}

“The fuck am I doing? I can't date! I especially can't date Verosika I mean, why would she even want to go out after I turned her down the first time?” Blitzø asks, changing his jacket to his leather one. 

“Because she likes you?” Barbie suggests. “Stop overthinking it. Dating is normal. Try it.” 

“I've dated!” Blitzø says.

“One night stands and serving an owl do not constitute dating!” Barbie says. 

“I’m an imp, she’s a fucking popstar.” Blitzø says. “How can she possibly be into me?” 

“You had a prince simp for you, for Christ sake!” Barbie says. 

“Yeah but no one was left. It was me or Stella and trust me…I was the lesser of two uglies. Stolas only liked me because I was there. It was convenient for him because I was stuck there.” He explains. 

“What a prick.” Barbie mumbles. 

“Maybe that’s the problem, maybe Verosika’s standards are too low, yeah. She's got a weird addiction and usually dates shifty guys, that's always how this works.”

The office door opens. “Hey Blitzø. Your daughter said I could just walk in, I hope that's alright.” She says. 

He turns. “Verosika, Hi.” Blitzø greets. “It's fine we  were just talking about…nothing. How was work?” 

Barbie rolls her eyes. “Smooth.”

“My hellhound Vortex broke his leg fighting a giant monster, but overall it was fine.” She says. 

“Is he okay?” Loona asks, sounding worried as she practically runs to the office.

“He's fine.” She says. “A little sore and needs some rest, but he should be back on his paws in no time.”

“Good. I'm glad he's hot- I mean I'm glad he's fine!” Loona says, cheeks burning red as she sees Blitzø and Verosika's shocked reactions. 

Blitzø quickly changes the subject. “So…anyway. We caught some of your show when we passed by the beach, pretty amazing stuff.” 

“Thanks.” She says. “The crowd seemed to like it anyway.” 

Barbie has her arms crossed as she walks over to the pop-star. “So, Verosika is it?” She asks, getting up on her tip-toes to look intimidating. 

“Uh yes?” Verosika answers, obviously uncomfortable with how close she was. 

“What are your intentions with my brother?” She asks. 

“To…go out to dinner and have a nice time.” Verosika says. “Nothing beyond that. Though it's cute that you're so protective of him.” 

“His heart is glass, but mine is stone, you break his heart, I find out where you live and rip your limbs off one-by-one! Got it?”

Blitzø glares at Barbie and takes Verosika’s hand. “Hah. You're so funny, Barb. You should tell that to your own date…oh wait, you can't because you don't fucking have one.”

“Fuck you!” She says. “Jesse's just running late, he'll be here!”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He says before guiding Verosika out the door.

“I'm sorry about her.” Blitzø says once out of earshot of Barbie 

“No, don't be. I have sisters too, I get it.” She says.

{Past:}

Stolas was studying with his tutor Augestine. 

Blitzo wasn't to leave Stolas's side unless he was asked to or if he had a good reason… so he started to question the possibility of escaping. 

“Blitzo?” Stolas asks. “Have you seen my ruby cufflinks?” He asks. 

Blitzo seized the opportunity and backed up a little, knowing exactly where they were located. “You know I think I saw them downstairs.” He says. Carefully taking the small red cufflinks that were on Stolas's nightstand and putting them in his pocket.

“Huh. That's strange. Why would I take them off down there?” Stolas asks. 

Blitzo blinks. “With all due respect, your highness. You have been overwhelmed. Perhaps you left it without realizing. I'll go and fetch them for you if you'd like.” He says. 

Stolas looks at him suspiciously. “Alright.” 

Blitzo bows and exits the prince's room. 

Fucking finally! 

Blitzo snuck downstairs to one of the spare rooms they had- a room which no one typically minded. He couldn't be spotted or else Lays will have a fucking cow. 

He climbed out the window slowly, getting used to the routine because he often snuck out to look at the stables.

Sigh. So many beautiful horses, so many stupid names. 

Basic birds. 

He snuck around the stables and he was out of there. 

He had to get back and give Stolas back his cufflinks, he had less than an hour but it would be worth it if it was in fact his family's circus. 

He could see Barb and Fizz again…he could see his mom! 

But- there was a painful feeling in his chest…

What if they had moved on without him? 

It's been four years after all…

Almost five now.

{Present, OZZIE'S}

Verosika and Blitzø make it to the club. 

“So, this is the place, huh?” Blitzø asks.

“Yeah.” She says. “I actually perform here sometimes.” She says. “Asmodeus and everyone here is so nice. Way better than most fucked up places around here.” He says. 

Blitzø nods. “Yeah, that makes sense.” 

The guard lets them in, and they're escorted to their seats. 

They sit in silence until the waitress shows up. 

“Can I start you two off with a drink?” She asks.

“Uhm red whine for me.” Verosika says. 

“Same here.” Blitzo says. 

“I'll be right back, sweetie.” She says, more directed to Verosika of course.

She looked amazing. 

“So…” Blitzø taps the table anxiously. 

“So…” She mimics playfully. 

“Been quite a few years. What's changed in your life?” Blitzø asks.

“Well, they threw me into rehab for a bit.” She says. “But they couldn't keep me there, I have too promising a future.”

“Bold to bring that up on a first date.” Blitzø says.

“So this is a date then?” She asks.

Blitzø looks away from her. 

“Blitzø?” Verosika asks. “Whatever you're thinking, just please say it.”

“Why would you agree to come after I rejected you like that?” Blitzø asks her. “It was quite the duck move, I figured you must have hated me.” 

She shrugs. “I don't know, I assume you had a good reason to. I was hoping to ask you about it…so you could explain?” She asks. “I hate getting no closure. And I especially hate when it's someone I really liked who leaves me blindsided.” She explains. 

“You really liked me?” Blitzø asks. 

“Well…yeah.” She says.

“Me?”

She rolls her eyes. “Do I really have to say it again?” 

“It's just- you know you're a fucking goddess, right?” He asks.

Her face drops, looking at him with surprise. “What?”

“What I mean is, you're so beautiful. You're so kind and smart, better than most everyone else in hell, you don't have to wait around for someone like me to break your heart.” He explains. 

“Blitzø? Why did you leave like that?” She asks. “Please tell me you had a good reason to.” 

Blitzø sighs. “I was still trying to get over someone else.” 

“That someone must have been pretty special.” She says. 

“He was…. But I was also laser focused on helping my mom. Everything in my life was so depressing and I realized I was just using you to make me feel better- and that wasn't fair! That's exactly what-” 

Blitzø cut himself off. “Point is, I didn't mean to hurt you, but if I'm sleeping with you for more reasons than necessary, it wasn't a good situation.” 

“Your mom was sick?” She asks him.

“Yeah, she's…not doing so great.” Blitzø says. 

“She's still sick?” Verosika asks.

“Yeah. Been since I was a kid.” Blitzø says.

“Oh wow, Blitzø, I am so sor-”

A sudden voice from the stage stops her from continuing her sentence: “Hey, folks!” begging your pardon! Excuse me? Is this thing on?”

Blitzø's face turned shocked by who he saw up on stage. 

“Blitzø…?” Verosika asks. “Are you okay?”

“Oh no…” Blitzø says softly, his gaze still fixated on the stage. “Not him.”

“What? What is it?” Verosika asks, turning to the stage. 

“I'm your host Fizzarolli! We have a great set up for you tonight! So many amazing acts that are sure to get you freaks freaking out!”

{Past:}

It wasn't hard to find the circus, there were a million flyers downtown advertising it.

It took him fifteen minutes to get there, it'll take him the same to get back. So he could only stay for thirty minutes at most. 

He makes it to the tent and sneaks around to find a way in.

He's learned to be really good at sneaking around, not only just with him but with Stolas. So he'd have to be really good. 

He pulled the hood of his jacket up and snuck in by blending in with a large family. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our family circus. We've got some amazing acts for you all tonight.” A familiar squeaky voice speaks. His damn father, the one who let him be captured, the one who fucking sold hid own son, that mother fucking asshole! 

He needed to focus, at least he knows it's the right circus. 

He makes his way to the back where the performers were. He looked around until he finally saw them. “Psst! Fizz, Barb!” He whispers, just loud enough for them to hear. 

They both walk over to him. “Listen, creep. Whatever it is you're looking for, you're not going to find it by-”

Barbie is interrupted by Blitzo looking at her, removing his hood. 

Fizzarolli looks at him, his jaw dropped and eyes wide.

“Blitzo?” Barbie asks him.

“Glad you can still recognize me, sis.” He says, rubbing his arm anxiously. 

Barbie hugs him close. “Oh my fuck!” She lets go and hits his arm harshly. “Where in hell have you been?!” 

“Shh, I don't want Cash to know I'm here.” He says.

“What? Why?” Fizz asks. 

“Come with me.” Blitzo takes Barbie's hand and Fizz follows them outside.

“What gives?” Barbie asks. 

“Where have you been this whole time, dude?” Fizz asks him.

“Why don't you want to see dad? I know he's an asshole but-”

“Cash seriously didn't tell you?” Blitzo asks them.

“Tell us what?” Barbie asks.

“The Goetias? The treasure?” 

Both shook their heads. 

“Wow.” Blitzo rolls his eyes. “I do not have time for this so I'll make it brief, Dad sold me to that weird Goetia Paimon to entertain his son Stolas for the day so I could steal treasure from them. I was caught and dad escaped so now I am forced to work for them to pay off that debt.” Blitzo explains.

“What? For how long?” Barbie asks.

“Forever probably.” Blitzo shrugs. “There was a lot of gold.”

“Dude!” Fizz says. “I'm so sorry that happened. I had no idea!” 

“It's fine, I'm fine! I'm just happy to see you guys again.” He says. “I have so many questions.”

“Better stick with one, we gotta be on stage soon.” Fizz says. 

“Okay, where's mom? I'd like to see her before I go.” He asks.

Fizz and Barbie look at each other, then back at him.

“What?” Blitzo asks them. 

“Moms been in the hospital.” Barbie says. 

“But why? For how long?” Blitzo asks. “Is she going to be okay?”

“After you…disappeared, something in her just snapped.” Barbie explains. “She kept screaming and asking for you randomly. We had no choice but to institutionalize her.” 

Blitzo wasn't sure what to say about that. “Fuck.”

“Blitzo this isn't your fault.” Barbie says. 

“Yeah, it's his fault.” Fizz says, gesturing to the tent. “I'm sure all Tilla needs is to see you! She'll have to get better! And now that you're back-”

“I have to head back to the palace before they realized I snuckout.” Blitzo interrupts. 

“You what?” Barbie asks. 

“I have to, I'm sorry. But I'll be back. How long will you guys be here?” Blitzo asks. 

“A while.” Barbie says. “Cash can't afford to move too much right now.” 

“Great. I'll come back.” Blitzo promises. “Maybe tonight, but I'm not sure. It really depends on if I was caught.” 

Blitzo was about to walk away but Fizz grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards him for a hug. “I'm going to help you get out of there, Blitzo. No matter what I have to do. I promise.” 

Blitzo hugs him back, a tear falling down his face. “Thanks Fizz.” 

{Present:} 

“I'm sorry, I can't do this.” Blitzø says; He gets up from the table and runs out of the club.

“Blitzø?” Verosika asks. “Wait!”

Blitzø ran outside, the rain pouring meant nothing to him at this point. He hasn't seen Fizz in years…why was he here!?

Verosika ran after him. “Blitzø! Wait please?” She asks. 

Blitzø considers ignoring her and continuing but..

He stops. 

She catches up to him. “What the hell was that? What happened?!” 

“I'm sorry, I- I really am. I just- I…” Blitzø sighs. “The clown in there, I… I used to know him. And I didn't really expect to see him there.” He admits. 

Verosika's eyes widen. “Oh. Do you want to talk about it?” Verosika asks. “I'm a good listener.” 

“No really.” Blitzø says, sitting on a bench. “I appreciate the offer though.” 

“You wanna fuck?” She asks, sitting next to him, sharing her umbrella with him.  

“I want to spend one fucking day without feeling horrible.” He says. 

“I can help with that.” She says. 

“How so?” He asks.

“You're not that dense. Come with me to my apartment, I have wine and other substances.” Verosika tempts. “Let's have some fun!” 

“I don't know.” He says. He's not a stranger to weird substances, in fact he knew them quite well. But he knows how easily he can fall for someone, how easily he obsesses-

“What do you have to lose?” She asks. “We're friends right?” 

Blitzø nods. “Of course we are.” 

“Then you should be able to trust me.” She says. “We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Let's just see where the night takes us, get your mind off thinhs. How about that?” 

Blitzø smiles at her. “Sounds good.”

She smiles and they both stand up. 

Blitzø smirks. “Of course…”

Verosika looks at him. 

“I'm sure we can think of a more exciting place to spend the night.” He says. 

“Got any suggestions?” She asks. 

He smiles. “Plenty. Ever been Salsa dancing?”

She chuckles. “Can't say I have.” 

“Would you like to?” Blitzø asks. “It's way more fun than it sounds. There's this club in pride. It's especially if you wait long enough and everyone is the right shade of drunk. Besides, they have these amazing cocktails.”

She bites her lip, it sounded very tempting. “I'd go anywhere at this point. My standards are so low due to my addiction and the assholes I’ve been dating anyways.” She jokes with him. 

“Oh, you heard me, that's- I'm sorry.” He says. 

She laughs. “I'll let it go this time, you've had a rough night.” She says. “Let's see if you can make it all up to me with some amazing cocktails.” ~

Blitzø blushes, but she didn't seem to notice while they took the train back to pride.

They honestly had a great time…

Drank so much they ended up on a ranch,

Then a fucking escape room, got out really easily. 

And then they were back at Verosika's place. 

Blitzø woke up that morning… seeing her right next to him. 

He smiles and gently strokes her hair. 

A part of him really wanted to leave, get to work, pretend this night never happened but- 

A much stronger part of him longed to stay with her…

Maybe Blitzø can move on after all? 

"Ever worry that it might be ruined

And does it make you wanna cry?

When you're out there doing what you're doing

Are you just getting by?

Tell me, are you just getting by, by, by?

Where there is desire, there is gonna be a flame

Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned

But just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die

You've gotta get up and try, try, try

Gotta get up and try, try, try

You've gotta get up and try, try, try." -Try, P!nk

@susstardust

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

What about how Blitzø shows vulnerability to an s/o he genuinely loves?

Blitzø being vulnerable

honestly i really love the idea of him finding an SO that's different from his exes. someone that enjoys his silly side, but also can see there's more underneath and cares. which is something he is extremely unused to

The gang had just gotten back from the harvest moon festival and you were excited to see them. There wasn't great internet out in the wrath ring so you waited all weekend to hear how it went. Millie had been so excited and Blitzø's own excitement went through the roof the second she told the group about the horses there.

So when you got the text from Loona saying you should check up on him, you were confused and concerned. After picking up your favorite drinks from hellbucks, you head over to his apartment to find the front door unlocked as usual. No matter now many times you've lectured him about how unsafe it is, it's always unlocked.

You find him sitting on the couch in one of his old hoodies, mindlessly flipping through the channels on tv. He looked tired and a bit beaten up. Not in the I just came back from a wild rodeo type of way. In the I got in a really bad fight way.

"Heey y/n," he smiled as you gave a quick kiss to one of his horns and handed him his drink before making your way around the couch to sit next to him.

"Hey yourself," you say with a worried smile.

You reach out and carefully ghost your finger over a colorful bruise on his cheek. He winces in anticipation, but relaxes when he realizes you weren't going to make it worse. "Want to tell me what all this is about?"

"Oh, you know how it is," he chuckled as he rolled his eyes and avoided your inquiring gaze. "Moxxie tried and failed to ride a pig, there was a big contest that I won– well tied for first– and just some asshat that caused a bit of trouble. Nothing special, considering how most days go."

"Hmmm, true," you nodded. "But most days don't have your daughter texting me, you covered in bandages and wearing your 'shit sucks' sweatshirt."

Blitzø slurped his drink loudly as he tried to come up with some witty comeback. One look at your expression and he sighed, putting up a hand in defeat. "Alright, you got me there."

He set his cup down and you did the same, turning to face him better as he rubbed one of his own fingers in nervous habit. "There was this guy and he just- uh... really got under my skin I guess. I thought we had a connection or something. In hindsight, I think I just liked feeling seen. I offered him a job at IMP and everything. Stolas has been grating on my nerves more than ever lately and just.. I don't know."

You listened attentively, nodding as he told you the events of the weekend. The assassination attempt, how badly Millie got hurt, Striker's offer. He managed to get through most of it until he started talking about Moxxie.

"I know I give the guy a lot of shit, but mother of fuck, I'm pretty sure my heart stopped the second that shot went off."

Noticing that Blitzø was starting to wring his hands together, you carefully took them in your own and rubbed over the back of them with your thumb in a pattern.

"He knows that you care Blitz. They all do."

"And they almost died. My ungrateful dumb ass was actually considering the deal he offered me," Blitzø spat.

"This fucker went behind my back, tried to kill Stolas and fucked up M and M to the ninth circle and back. And I was fucking considering the idea of working with him and for what?!"

You didn't flinch when he pulled his hands away or his voice got louder. You knew by now that he really only ever got angry like this when it was for the sake of others. Despite his line of business and how it started, he had a heart of gold he liked to pretend didn't exist. One that had been trampled on. A lot.

"You wanted to be seen," you said after a moment.

He stopped and sighed. "I know you and everyone see me and all that. I'm not trying to–"

You shoot him a reassuring smile. "I know. I get it. I'm the same way sometimes. I think everyone is. You have the people you love and care about and you know they feel the same but there's this... ache for some sort of approval from another source."

Blitzø leaned towards you and you gladly let him fall into you, wrapping your arms around each other as you moved to lay on the couch.

"I hate that you have that magic power shit. Give it back to the therapists so they can actually do their jobs."

You snorted and scratched the back of his head, "Never. I have an imp that I need to remind has fucking valid feelings cause he keeps telling himself otherwise."

"Blame the trauma," Blitzø snorted.

"Mood, same," you quipped back with a grin.

The both of you laughed before falling into a comfortable silence. There was more to discuss and the both of you knew that change was likely on the horizon. But for now, you were content to just stay on that shitty couch and talk until you fell asleep around four in the morning.

[vizowrites]

That’s One Hell of a Resume

{Set during the Harvest Moon Festival competitions}

~*~

To  Blitzø’s great surprise, the Harvest Moon Festival was actually turning out to not be a fuck fest invite after all.

He honestly hadn’t been sure when the games initially kicked off.  The horde of imps that had come to compete for the title of “the roughest, toughest, bastard in Wrath” had a proclivity for violence that could easily--and not inaccurately--be described as a passion.  Then of course there was Stolas, watching him thirstily from atop his fancy seat underneath his fancy tent, cooing and cheering out “Blitzyyyyy!!'' at every opportunity he got to speak.  Yet the honored owl prince somehow still managed to keep his pants on throughout each and every event--and even more impressively managed to keep his degrading sweet talk void of any sexual obscenities.  He hadn’t even been able to manage that much on a day trip to a theme park with his daughter.  Yet somehow...this wasn’t even the best part of the festival to  Blitzø.  It was up there to be sure, but it wasn’t the toppiest top.  The “dom of the disco”**, if you will.  

No, the BEST part of the festival--and the thing that kept the imp grinning from ear to ear throughout the entire competition--was that this honkytonk battle royale was shaping up to be the perfect opportunity to show off and be recognized for just how much of a boss-ass bitch Blitz actually was: 2nd to absolutely fucking none.

Well...maybe with ONE slight exception.

“I gotta say, you just keep on impressin’ me every chance you get,” that one slight exception said with a smirk, the tip of his tail flicking forward into a small curl.  “No wonder your killin’ biz is so successful.  You do every kill single-handed there, Boss Man?” The two were standing off on the sidelines together during one of the many interims inbetween contests, where the first round winners had already secured their victories and now were stuck watching the remaining shitty losers battle it out to find out which of them would end up being the absolute shittiest loser.  It was taking a stupidly long-ass time, a hell of a lot longer than  Blitzø would’ve normally had the patience for, but with his present company leaning up against the bleacher stands like that.....there were definitely worse ways he could be spending his down time right now.

“Nah,” he answered with a small flick of his wrist, gesturing vaguely in the general direction of where he’d last seen Moxxie getting his ass kicked and Millie sitting in the stands watching it happen.  “I know he’s not doing a great job of showing it right now--” he said just as Moxxie got elbow dropped by a shark “--but Moxxie’s not completely useless.  He did get me shot on a job once while he was in the middle of being a little bitch, but as soon as he finally found his balls again, he got things back under control pretty fast.  And Millie’s just a straight up badass.  If her parents had allowed her to play in the games, you’d have gotten your ass handed to you three rounds ago.”

“That so?” Striker’s lips drew back into a slight smirk, just enough for the light to catch on the very tip of his fanged gold tooth.  “Because I seem to remember a certain someone else bein’ the one to get themselves all roped up in a hogtie about three rounds ago.”  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about but it sounds like complete bullshit.”

“That’s kinda what I was thinkin’ myself to be honest after that first relay run--” Those snake-like eyes raked in every inch of Blitz’s annoyed face, feeling the corners of his own pleasantly sting as his grin spread even wider. “Right up ‘til I saw some o’that nice red color risin’ up in their face--”

“IT’S HOT--THERE ARE FUCKING VOLCANOES NEARBY OKAY!!” Blitz realized, very quickly, just how loud and defensive those words sounded, but he also realized just as quickly that there wasn’t anything he could do to take them back now.  Instead, he straightened himself up, cleared his throat, pretended that there wasn’t some of ‘that nice red color’ in his face now, and said in what he thought was a much more nonchalant voice, “Anyway, I’m starving, and since these last few dipshits are taking forever to get their asses kicked, I’m gonna go find something deep-fried to shove down my throat.  Catch you at the awards ceremony or whatever the fuck they do around here to finish themselves off.”

The I.M.P. Head made it a grand total of two steps before the unmistakable crunch of boots sounded behind him, followed by a faint scoff of a laugh and the distinct rattling of a tail as Striker joined him at his side.  

“There’s a whole row of food stands back there behind the stage,” he said with a nod, meeting  Blitzø’s stride and starting to veer them off in that direction.  “And now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind grabbin’ a bite.  Besides--I feel like I might owe you one for bringin’ up such a tender subject.”

The unrepentant but non-malicious smirk he sent Blitz’s way wasn’t at all softened by the wink that accompanied it, but it somehow brought a slight smile to the smaller imp’s lips all the same.

“You got fucking lucky and that was it,” Blitz insisted with a sharp flick of his tail, not having the faintest fucking clue why he was smiling about this in the first place but subconscioiusly hoping that swatting at Striker would be distracting enough that the taller imp wouldn’t notice.  “And besides, I could’ve gotten out of it if I had really wanted to.”

“Oh, so you wanted to be all tied up like that?”  The grin that spread across Striker’s face was even wider than the first, his razor sharp teeth now on full display. “Well now, if that’s what you were wantin’ you could’ve just asked.  I’d’ve been happy to oblige right from the start.” 

“Ha! Like I’d ever make it that easy for you,”  Blitzø retorted with a challenging grin, his eyes dancing with a truly impish gleam of delight as he and Striker rounded the stage together, his earlier thoughts of the food shacks that waited beyond almost entirely forgotten as they were overtaken by memories of their constant back-and-forth scuffle throughout the festival. “You beating me fair and square is one thing--even though you still totally just got really fucking lucky and also it definitely never even happened in the first place.  But if you were actually going to beat me...you better believe it’s not gonna happen without a fight.  I don’t just bow out like some sloppy bitch who can’t figure out where they put their car keys and has to take the walk of shame back to their shitty apartment at 4 in the morning.  If you wanna come out on top over me, you better fucking work for it.”  

The black tip of his pointed tail flicked up to poke Striker once in the center of his chest, punctuating the word ‘work’ perfectly. 

Striker’s tail, on the other hand, began to rattle.

“Yeah?” he said, his earlier easy tone starting to become weighted with something softer, but deeper.  Neither he nor  Blitzø made any indication that they were aware that he was guiding them both right on past the front of the stand that they had originally been headed toward, and instead had them disappearing into the shadows behind it. “You’re okay with not coming out on top so long as whoever does earns their place there?”

“I mean...”  Blitzø trailed off a bit as he casually leaned up against the back of the stand, folding his arms over his chest as he eyed Striker with that lingering gleam in his own gaze. “You have been able to keep up with me in all the other games...so I guess it might be possible for you to get the upper hand on me for at least one of them.”  

“Just me?”  The rattling sound intensified. 

“Well there sure as fuck wasn’t anyone else who was able to keep up,”  Blitzø rolled his eyes in annoyed exasperation at just how much everyone else truly sucked in comparison to the two of them, before he slowly looked back up at Striker--and realized that the snake-like imp was suddenly a lot closer than he’d been before.  Much closer.  

“...Striker?”

“Yeah, Blitz?”

“Please tell me we’re not actually talking about the fucking games anymore.”

A short, soft laugh was the initial answer, followed by that still rattling tail coiling around Blitz’s slender waist as Striker propped himself up on one arm against the structure behind them, his hand splayed just to the side of the crimson imp’s right cheek.  

“I haven’t been talkin’ about the games since you got me with your tail, Darlin’,” he whispered, his hooded eyes narrowing to glowing slits of pale gold as he leaned in almost close enough to touch.  “But I don’t know if there ain’t somethin’ to be said about that “fuckin’” part yet...”

Blitz’s words came back to him then, ringing in his head as clear as when he first said them: 

“...Well if you promise this isn’t some fuck fest invite...”

“.....You gonna work for it, Cowboy?” 

“Yessir, Boss Man.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So...lemme get this straight--”  Blitzø finally shifted his weight, easing it off of Striker and rolling to rest his back on whatever podunk concession stand they’d spent the last ten minutes fucking up against.  “--You tie me for first place in the games, you ride around on the most majestic fucking horse I’ve ever seen, you take down a hell hog with a single stab while completely and mercilessly humiliating one of my employees in front of his in-laws at the same fucking time, and you called me “Sir” when we first met?  AND you’re a great fuck??”

The quirked eyebrow and smug gold-toothed grin he got in reply said more than words ever could, especially when accompanied by the satisfied rattling of that long, spiked tail.

“That’s one hell of a resume you’ve got there.”  Blitzø didn’t even realize his own face had split into a grin until he saw it reflected in Striker’s eyes, hypnotized by the sheer reckless abandon he felt ignited between them.  “Want to join I.M.P.?”  

Striker couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to adjust the brim of his hat from where Blitz’s tail had nearly knocked it off, his unwavering gaze sparking into an infernal glow.

“Tell you what,” he said, his tone a warm rumble of amusement meeting temptation.  “You and I head on back to the stage, revel in our well-deserved glory, and--once we’re satisfied it’s been rubbed into the faces of those sorry ass losers enough--I’ll head on back up to the farm and have a little talk with Miss Mildred’s folks about finishin’ things up around here for the season.  Maybe see if they can find another set of hands to join ‘em for the next one if mine are gonna be occupied with--” His hand found its way down to Blito’s face, the sharp claw-like nail of his thumb pressing under the shorter imp’s chin to tilt it up towards his own. “--other things.”

“Believe me, Cowboy,”  Blitzø’s eyes were burning, twin embers of eagerness that ran so deep he could feel the heat of it vibrating through to his very core--and his vocal chords.  “You’re not going to find a more hands-on job than the one you’re gonna get if you come and work for me.  ESPECIALLY in that order.” 

Striker’s tail snaked its way up and along past Blitz’s hip, the pointed tip flicking over his chest as it’s rattle joined in the chorus of that deep, heated purring.  

“Don’t mind if I hold you to that, Sir.”

“Oh fuck me--”

And Striker did. Again.

~*~

Random Notes: 

**My counterpart to the phrase “the belle of the ball”--”the dom of the disco”.  I think I’m way funnier than I actually am. :D

ANYWAY tho I really hope y’all like it!!  This is the first fanfic I’ve posted anywhere publicly in a hot minute so I hope it’s not a bad kickoff to something I’m hoping to really get back into!!  I have plans to post the full fic of this--with the non-censored sex scene to my AO3 oohlala--so if that’s something you’d like to see, feel free to lemme know here and I can get right on that!!  Otherwise have a great day, thanks for reading, and if anyone wants to hit me up for some lovely BlitzStrike talks, I’m always open to messages!!

Thanks again Lovelies!! <3

[ladyanaconda]

Helluva Dad Vol. 3: Nerd

As I mentioned in the first one-shot, the events of the Harvest Moon Festival took place before Murder Family in this AU, so the discovery of the angelic weapon went differently. In other words, this prequel is where the canon divergence begins. Enjoy!

*HB-*

It's gonna be nice working with him. I asked him if he wants to join I.M.P.

Moxxie couldn't get those words out of his head. Striker working at I.M.P.? As much as he hated to admit it, he could actually picture it. The cowboy was an ace at… Well, everything, as far as he knew. This didn't mean Moxxie was happy at the prospect of having him as a co-worker, however. Striker had done nothing but rub Moxxie's lack of physical strength and 'balls to his face; heaven, even Striker's five-year-old kid made fun of him in a more innocent, child-like manner.

Moxxie felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach; if Striker does join I.M.P., where would this leave him in the company? Blitzo's the boss, Millie the powerhouse, and Striker might as well replace Moxxie as the weapons expert, not to mention become an additional powerhouse. Where would that leave Moxxie? Besides, he wasn't sure if he wanted to work with the guy who humiliated him via song, the one thing Moxxie thought he'd at least be better at.

Joe and Lynn never liked Moxxie for Millie from the beginning. 'Too much of a wimpy fag', he overheard them say more than once. 'He can't handle something as simple as gathering eggs from the chicken coop*, how is he going to protect or provide for Millie?' Striker, on the other hand, was strong, imposing, fearless, manly. They treated him more like a son-in-law than Moxxie even if the cowboy wasn't wedded into the family. Moxxie was no fool; he'd seen his parents-in-law subtly trying to get Millie alone with Striker and have them spend time together, practically screaming 'dump your wimp of a husband and fuck this real man'.

These thoughts crossed Moxxie's mind as he climbed upstairs. Everyone else was outside, which was good because he wanted to be alone right now.

There was a thump in one of the rooms. Following the sound out of sheer curiosity, Moxxie noticed a white glow filtering underneath the door. Hey, isn't it Striker's room? Moxxie has a policy against entering someone's bedroom without permission, but his spite towards the cowboy imp and curiosity got the better of him.

He found little Jake on the bed. The impling looked frightened for a second until he noticed it was only Moxxie. "You not daddy!"

"What do you go there, little fella?"

"Nothig!" Jake spread out his arms in a feeble attempt at hiding whatever thing was on the bed. Moxxie only had to take a few steps forward to peek over Jake.

"Oh, my crumbs!" There, in a long case, was a beautiful black rifle with silvery designs that almost seemed to glow with a heavenly light. "A genuine carmine crafted blessing-tipped rifle."As Moxxie tried to touch it, Jake snapped his teeth at his hand. "Hey, watch it!"

"No touch! Daddy's rifle!" Jake growled adorably. Geez, the brat's got his father's awful character.

"How… How in the fuck did he get one of these?"

"Why don't you ask me, little dude?" Moxxie and Jake froze, though the latter seemed more like 'shit I'm in trouble' than 'shit I'm dead.

Striker was leaning against the door, arms crossed. He didn't look very happy.

"Boy, I thought we'd talked about this already," he told Jake sternly.

"I… I just wanna touch it, daddy." Jake whispered timidly.

"W-Why do you have this?! Mister!" Moxxie asked nervously. "You are aware this kind of weapon can kill…"

"...Demon royalty?" Striker finished grimly.

"Yes, that."

"Duuh! That what it for, dummy!" Jake stuck his tongue at Moxxie.

"Kiddo, Mrs. Lin is baking the lava berry pie you like so much. Why don't you go take a look while daddy has a word with Moxxie?" Did Striker just call him by his name? Jake yelled happily and climbed off the bed, speeding out of the room.

Moxxie felt a shiver down his spine as Striker closed the door shut behind him. "Well, I'm… I'm relatively concerned by your possession of this…" he stepped back warily as the cowboy walked towards him with a devilish grin, eyes glowing as he came to a halt right in front of Moxxie, silently staring down at him. "I'm also glad my instant dislike of you has been validated!"

Neither moved for a while. Then, against Moxxie's expectations, Striker gently moved him aside to gently run his fingers along the weapon's side. There was a sad, almost nostalgic look on his face.

"I cherish it, you know. It used to belong to someone who was very dear to me. Nowadays I rarely use it, though. So it's more like a memento." Moxxie was quite surprised at the emotion in his voice.

"Then you have used it."

"Well, I wasn't always a farmhand, little fella. Let's say I'd make a living as a hitman." Striker sat down on his bed, eyes on the rifle. "Whenever people wanted someone dead, they'd call me. Kind of what you guys do at I.M.P., but down here in Hell." He sighed. "Then my… priorities shifted."

Moxxie was about to ask him what he meant when he spotted a small box full of toys. "...Jake."

Striker nodded. "When Jake was born, I realized that kind of job endangered both my and his life on a nearly daily basis, so I had to retire and find a safer job. It's not as exciting as the thrill of shooting people's brains out of their skulls, but it puts bread on the table."

Moxxie wasn't sure what to say. Tentatively, he sat down next to Striker, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He wasn't pushed off, so he guessed it was okay.

"You've done a decent job, you know. He's a good kid… Most of the time." he murmured the last part.

An awkward silence followed until Striker spoke again. "So, Blitz said you're I.M.P.'s weapons expert."

"I am. Why, is it such a surprise for you?"

Striker shrugged. "What can I say? You don't give that impression, wimp."

Offended, Moxxie pulled out his pistol. "Walther P.38!"

Striker raised an eyebrow. "Looks pretty anemic compared to the peacekeeper."

"It's not about size, you know. It's about stamina."

"Is that so?" Striker smirked. "What can you tell me about the Thompson submachine gun?"

"Fifty rounds a drum, twenty-five a mag!" Moxxie said in excitement. "It's a good weapon, but its cocking mechanism always jams. The Russian P.P.S. personal assault weapon is a better choice."

"Maybe, but in the end, it's the experience that wins the day. It's not all about firepower."

"Indeed! I mean, even the best gun in all of Hell can be wasted in the hands of a newbie."

Striker laughed and gave Moxxie a strong pat on the back, unintentionally sending him to the ground.

"Not bad, wimp. Looks like you are good at something, after all."

Moxxie blinked in disbelief. "Was that a compliment?"

"Don't get used to it, little nerd." Striker chuckled, smirking. "You still have a long way to go to earn my respect."

"Who're you calling a nerd?!"

"Bowtie, fragile arms, pushover, you're afraid of a mere rooster. Should I continue?"

"For your information, I'm not afraid of the rooster!" Moxxie crossed his arms. Striker raised an eyebrow. "...I simply don't like the idea of getting infected with the avian flu, thank you very much."

Smirking again, Striker closed the case and walked out of the room. "Nerd."

"I'm not a nerd!"

*HB*

*A callback to the scenes in some movies when someone goes to the chicken coops to collect the eggs and is attacked by the rooster. Come on, you can't tell me you don't see this happening to Moxxie. And if living roosters are a pain, just imagine one straight from Hell.

[hunter-the-sad-skeleton]

So Helluva Boss Episode five dropped and I decided to write. May continue this, who knows. Enjoy!(Reblog if ya enjoyed reading this! :D)

“The Harvest Moon Festival,” Skip read from his phone. “Is a festival that takes place in the circle of Wrath every year to celebrate the harvest with Prince Stolas cursing the locals with the glow of the true Harvest Moon.” Skip hummed.

“It’s a lot more than that, hon!” Millie grinned. “I can’t wait to introduce ya to my folks! They’re gonna love ya!....Maybe!...We’ll see!” Millie smiled.

Skip grimaced, pulling his legs to his chest, tail thumping against his seat anxiously. “Dad, do I have to go…?” Skip asked Blitzø anxiously.

“Now, Skip, this’ll be a fun experience for ya! You need to get out more anyway! Maybe you’ll make some new friends here!” Blitzø smiled.

Skip sighed. “Maybe even someone more than a friend~!” Blitzø winked.

“DAD!!!” Skip squeaked, discomfort evident.

“Kidding, kidding!” He chuckled.

Millie grinned excitedly as a sign came into view. “Rough and tumbleweed ranch.”. Skip chuckled to himself at the pun.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, if they made a pun like that, maybe he’d get along well with them.

...It took him all of five minutes to not feel comfortable around them. He didn’t voice this fact, that would be rude, but the mention of “An Imp is only worth a dime if he can tear the head off a beast” made him feel uncomfortable.

“Guys, come on, lighten up!” Millie smiled shakily.

“I-I can go…” Skip said shakily.

“Wait!” Millie called, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Ma, pa, meet Skip! He’s Blitzø’s adopted son!” Millie introduced.

“H-How d’ya do…?” Skip asked shakily.

“Hm. Doesn’t carry himself well.” Joe shrugged.

Skip internally cringed and curled into himself, internally screaming at himself to just run off, run away and never come back.

“I suppose y’all should meet our newest help.” Joe said. Skip tilted his head in confusion. “STRIKER!” He called, Skip jumping at the sudden volume increase.

Skip heard the sound of thundering hooves and...flames…? He immediately perked up, knowing what it was right off the bat. What he DIDN’T know, however, was the absolute SIZE of the beast.

He could only see up to around his belly without looking up. Then came a voice, Silky as high quality curtains and smooth as freshly melted butter.

“Howdy~!” He greeted.

Skip’s jaw hung loose as he took everything in.

“Is your, uh, friend okay?” Lyn asked.

“Hold on, I can check.” Millie said. “Skip? You alright, hon?” Millie asked.

The rider’s gaze drifted down to Skip. Skip now wished he could spin off into space, never to be seen again. He began nervously messing with his tail.

“Skip, huh? Nice name.” Striker smiled.

Skip processed everything for a moment, eventually snapping out of it. Oh Lucifer be merciful, he started accidentally infodumping about Hell Horses that he learned around when he was six-ish, since he took to teaching himself.

It took him about thirty minutes before he realized he was infodumping and he stopped, face heating up in embarrassment.

“Sorry, that was weird.” Skip coughed.

“Huh, never knew someone liked Hell Horses that much.” Striker chuckled.

Skip wringed his tail nervously. He internally screamed at himself. He’d embarrassed himself again, in front of everyone.

“I-I’ll go, uh...do...something away from here…” Skip trailed off, turning around.

“Shame, I was gonna see if ya wanted to pet him maybe.” Striker shrugged.

Skip’s heart skipped a beat. He’d embarrassed himself in front of everyone else, and yet he was being offered pets for a Hell Horse? “I-If you’re okay with it, s-sure!” Skip squeaked. Striker chuckled, gesturing for Skip to come closer.

Skip slowly walked over, freezing when he looked at him. “I...don’t think he likes me.” Skip gulped nervously.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Striker smiled.

“He looks like he wants to kill me.” Skip added.

“That means he likes ya!” Striker beamed. “He thinks you’re worth killing and hiding!” Striker joked.

Skip’s heart stopped. “Um...Good Horsey…?” Skip said, gently patting the tall animal.

Striker laughed. “That he is, Tiny!”

Skip slowly smiled. “He’s really soft…”

Skip’s tail slowly started swishing back and forth in happiness. “How did ya know all that about Hell Horses, Tiny?” Striker asked.

Skip froze, collecting himself quickly. “I had a, uh, Hell Horse G-I had a Hell Horse phase.” Skip corrected swiftly, smiling and hoping that Striker didn’t notice the slip-up.

Either he didn’t notice, or he did but just didn’t care. “Ah.” He nodded.

“Y’all should consider entering the pain games! It could be fun!” Lyn suggested. Skip perked up at the mention of games.

As they began to describe them, Skip lost interest and wandered off elsewhere.

(With Skip)

Skip wandered through the open fields, drifting off and spacing out and getting lost in his thoughts.

He thought over the events that had happened so far. He’d asked his dad if he could stay behind, but he ultimately got forced to go.

He embarrassed himself in front of everyone on multiple occasions.

But he met a Hell Horse, so that was good. He also met Striker. That was also good.

When Skip thought of Striker, he felt...Happy. He felt warm, fuzzy, happy, at peace, calm, almost in-he stopped himself. No. He wouldn’t let his dad be right. He refused. Even if Skip wanted to know what hugs from him felt like-no. Skip threw the thought away.

He wouldn’t.

He COULDN’T.

Love had hurt him so many times in the past, why would now be any different?

He eventually found a clearing and sat down, letting his thoughts settle.

He couldn’t let his dad be right...But why? Why was this such a bad thing?

Why did he let one bad experience dictate his view of such a widely celebrated thing?

Why did he find himself hating himself for allowing such good feelings into his heart?

Why did he not want this to be true? Why did he renounce such feelings? Why did he never want to be in a relationship ever again?

Why did he find himself so in lo-Why did he find himself so attached to Striker?

Why did he want to spend more time with Striker? Why did he want to know more about him?

Was it the Hell Horse? The thrill of finding someone else with his same interests? The potential for a new start?

The chance to find a Millie to his Moxxie? The chance to, Lucifer forbid, finally fall for someone in such a way that he would bare his soul to another party?

The fact that, despite having just met him, Skip would enjoy spending more time with Striker?

He had been so spaced out that he didn’t hear hoofsteps coming his way. “Got ‘nough room for one more?” Striker asked.

Skip nodded, still slightly spaced out.

Striker climbed down from his mount, sitting next to Skip. “Ya know, I didn’t find ya weird back there.” He sighed.

Skip snapped out of it as he realized who had sat next to him and his face heated up.

“Y’alright, Tiny?” Striker asked, half smiling at the smaller imp.

“Fi-ye-yeah, fine!” Skip chuckled shyly, wringing his tail again. “Um, uh….sorry for, uh, running away back there…” Skip apologized.

Striker scoffed, shrugging it off. “Your dad said ya have anxiety, so I don’t hold it against ya.” Striker shrugged.

Skip shuffled his feet nervously. “Still sorry, I, uh, unloaded a lot…” Skip stammered. As Skip spiralled, Striker rolled his eyes, giving the smaller imp a quick peck on the cheek, shutting him up immediately.

“Stop apologizing so dang much.” Striker smirked.

Skip’s face was now a bright crimson red and his brain was now basically tv static. Was this...what it was supposed to feel like?

Striker chuckled, leaning back. “You’re a great guy to be around, ya know?” He complimented.

Skip was now pure crimson and trying to hide in his hoodie. Lucifer, please come riding in a flying chariot pulled by flying pigs wearing togas made from clouds and take him away from this night-no, he couldn’t call it a nightmare. He...Enjoyed it.

“Thank you…~” Skip mumbled.

Striker put an arm across Skip’s shoulders. “Ain’t nothing, Tiny.” He smirked.

Skip stumbled for words, still caught off guard by the sign of affection from the farmhand. It was too good to be true. It HAD TO BE TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE.

His dad COULDN’T be right.

“Got anything ya wanna tell me, Tiny?” Striker asked, almost as if he could read Skip’s mind.

Skip stammered, struggling to find words to say. Skip’s heart froze as he was pulled closer to Striker. “I’m all ears, Pumpkin~” He hummed softly.

Skip struggled to find words, but was shut up as he was given another quick peck on the cheek. “You’re so easy to read, Tiny~!” Striker hummed.

“I...You...Uh….” Skip stammered.

“Sure ya don’t have anything to tell me, Tiny~?” Striker repeated.

“I….I just don’t wanna get hurt again.” Skip said nervously, breaking eye contact.

Striker hummed, tilting Skip’s chin up and making eye contact. “Come now, Tiny~! Would I ever hurtcha~?” Striker asked innocently.

Skip’s mouth flapped open and shut multiple times. He couldn’t think of any words. “I…” Skip trailed off.

Striker pulled the tiny imp into his lap, putting his head on top of Skip’s. Skip’s tail swished happily. “Called it.” Striker smiled.

“Huh?” Skip asked.

Striker smirked, rubbing Skip’s horns, earning a contented sigh from the smaller Imp. “You’re in love, huh?” Striker hummed.

“N-No!” Skip protested.

“Then why’s your face so red, Tiny~?” He hummed, sending chills down Skip’s spine.

“I...Um…” Skip stuttered.

Striker rubbed Skip on the back. “It’s okay to love people after a bad experience, ya know.”

Skip shook his head. “No. That’d mean Dad was right.” Skip objected.

Striker chuckled, Skip internally swooning at the sweet-as-honey sound. “Is that all that’s holdin’ ya back, Tiny~?”

Skip struggled to find words to say. He didn’t have to. Skip was stunned into silence as he was pulled into a kiss.

He was shocked at first, but relaxed after a few seconds.

Eventually, the two separated. “Like I said; easy~” Striker hummed. He eventually stood up, Skip following suit. “Come on, your dad’s probably worried sick.” Striker said.

Skip gulped nervously. “I-I….Don’t know how to get back...I kinda spaced out…” Skip winced.

Striker quirked an eyebrow, grabbing Skip by the sides and lifting him up.

“Huh?!” Skip squeaked in confusion.

“I’m takin’ ya with me.” Striker said, hopping on Bombproof with Skip.

“Just stay calm and you’ll be fine.” Striker instructed. Skip nodded. “Also, hold on.” Striker said.

“Wait, what-” Skip started, getting interrupted as Bombproof burst into a run, Skip barely holding on.

(With Blitzø and the others.)

“Has anyone seen Skip come back yet? I’m kinda worried about him.” Blitzø paced nervously.

“Don’t worry about it, Boss, I’m sure Skip is fine!” Millie assured.

The group’s attention was grabbed by thundering hoofsteps approaching them.

Striker came thundering into view riding Bombproof, Skip holding on tightly.

“Ya know how to halt a Hell Horse, Tiny?” Striker asked.

“Y-Yeah, kinda, but-” Skip started.

“Great! Time to test that knowledge!” Striker said, hopping off, leaving Skip in control.

Skip shrieked, quickly taking the reigns, struggling to stay on the Hell Horse, bouncing up and down at the speed he was going at.

“S-Slow down! Please!” Skip stammered.

“YOU’VE GOT THIS HONEY, JUST LIKE YOUR DADDY TAUGHT YA!!” Blitzø called happily.

“DAD!” Skip called, face heating up in embarrassment.

Skip eventually stopped Bombproof, falling off and landing on the ground. “I’ve never seen someone stop him like that. Nice job.” Striker winked.

Skip smiled shakily. Blitzø rushed over, picking up Skip in a hug and spinning around happily. “Ya did it! I’m so proud of you!” Blitzø grinned widely.

“Dad…?” Skip asked.

“Yeah?” Blitzø asked, smiling widely.

“How do you feel about me having a small crush on someone?”

“I’m sorry.” Blitzø started.

“WHAT?!?”