#striker just takes killing jobs from anyone. hes after stolas and blitz

[hearts401]

space aus r so fun. i need striker to be a space cowboy

[sadhornydemons]

Rapid-Spoiler-Season-Speculation: Mastermind/Sinmas

Mastermind:

After a bout of angst filled episodes, I'm theorizing that this one might be the nice change of pace: fun, filler episode/calm before the storm.

Not to mention, a nice mixup of two villain groups.

The Cherubs mention they are waiting for I.M.P. to return to Earth, but the D.H.O.R.K.S. seem to have a portal to get to them faster?

Robot? Robot with a skull chest emblem? Well, if they already have a Loona Fursuit, I guess they could just be into making freaky shit now. Could they send it through the portal? In which case,

There's a massive battle going on in the Lust ring.

Blitz is missing from these scenes until this one where he appears to be at the Pride ring.

Where the crystal portal is finally shown, see previous example:

D.H.O.R.K.S. appear defeated (but still alive? Well, it's not like IMP kills humans for a living..oh, wait) and Blitz is grabbing the card off their desk.

End of screen captures/speculation for this one, but I feel like events have to be running gradually in the background of the last few episodes for the doo doo to really hit the fan in the last:

Sinmas:

First, let's talk voice actors. Harvey Guillén came in fairly recently, but has been confirmed to voice Vassago. Now, they can always work around voice work to be added later, but I'm really leaning towards his character not appearing until this last episode.

Jason LaShea voices Andrealphus, assuming this shot is from the finale:

I think it's likely that Andrealphus, being a minor character, only appears in one or two episodes. With that in mind, let's assume the following scenes, which share the same background images, also take place in Sinmas:

We see at least one Sin, confirmed members of the Ars Goetia, and several sporting crowns. Aka the higher ups & royalty of Hell. And Stolas is missing. Oh, but Andrealphus states he will summon him.

(Off topic, but does anyone in hell know/care that Stolas's ex wife tried to have him killed? Paparazzi mobbed his hospital when he was hurt, but no one followed up on that news story?)

Likely the same scene, "You are a disgrace." Unknown character states. Whom? Ozzie? Stolas? The demon who took the last blueberry muffin from the snack table?

"Where is Stolas, anyway?" Well, this is the only image of him that appears to be from the finale:

1) Is that a blessed weapon sword?) 2) Is that a Gabriella hair stripe or an 'I was frozen today!' Anna-inspired white stripe?)

Which matches up with this:

And either Stolas left the refrigerator open for 4 solid episodes resulting in his mansion freezing over or his in-laws are relatives of Elsa's and favor home renovations.

Okay, buckle up sluts, MASSIVE SPECULATION TIME:

What would cause Stolas to move out?

Or rather, what would force Stolas to move out?

Andrealphus wants his money and property, Stella just wants him dead, but she has to follow her brother's wishes. Andrealphus tells her, "I say we bid our time. And wait for the chance to gain the upper hand."

And they might had had it all along.

You know, I wanted to say that Blitz fully and unprompted, spelled out, in detailed terms, how he was using Stolas's item to gain access to the mortal world immediately upon meeting Striker, but in watching it again:

Striker seemed to already know? So, either, Stella knew and told him or he did his research (if the IMP commercial from the pilot is still canon, they basically broadcasted it). But Blitz does go a step further and literally job interviews the guy, likely giving him even more info in the process.

Stolas even states, more than once, that they're not suppose to be using the book and that it's 'less than legal' even in hell.

So far, Stella has only been attacking Stolas. Striker knows Octavia is Stolas's main weakness, but hearing all the 'Blitzy' mentions during torturing, maybe he'll relay that there's another way they can exploit him. After all, Stella just thinks of him as any interchangeable Imp.

Stolas stated before that he would not leave Octavia, so maybe this was the reason he returns to the palace? But not soon enough, considering...*

The voice over does not match the scene, but it is as follows:

"You never loved mother and you don't love me, you love HIM!"*

Back to the image, is Via a fast learner or does she have the Grimoire? During the Loo Loo Land flashback, Stolas, having studied the book for a decade at that point, still needed it to travel to other planets.

And IMP seemed to be using the crystal in the last episode..

And if that's not complicated enough, let's get back to the Hell High Council meeting,

It sounds like they're discussing Stolas, before Vassago asks, "Where is Stolas, anyway?" Before demanding that they summon him, "at once!" Fortunately, this parrot's suppose to be a good guy, since unfortunately it seems like Stolas is in real more trouble.

Is it the illegal spellbook loaning? The (still alive?) D.H.O.R.K.S. having him on film? Satan help him if someone also managed to record him twerking on stage at the Verosika Mayday show.

We'll have to wait and see, but Stolas appears to return to the mansion with Blitz afterwards.

< / End MASSIVE SPECULATION >

Well, that's what I came up with. We've got 6 more months to go, and as the episodes do FINALLY get aired things might become more clear.

[cmyk-anaglyph-honeycomb]

Some ideas for if I were to rewrite helluva boss. (ugh another 1k word post. I either don't say shit or vomit words) Please ignore grammar mistakes, wrote this on my last hour of work at 10pm.

Was thinking about I would change HB if given the chance and these are my thoughts.

- Main location would be in on earth not hell. Having IMP navigating around human society would be more interesting as they tried to keep themselves hidden.

- This way they could have their harsh personalities and have extras still react strongly. (The amount of pearl clutching in the show makes no since given that 'its hell and demons are supposed to be good people.) It would likely take place in a town that's close to a larger city. Or just somewhere rural.

- Stolas, Moxxie and Luna would be human. Gonna explain working backwards.

- Luna would have the same backstory but she gets adopted earlier in life. She's raised by a demon, probably homeschooled, and picks up on Blitzo's mannerisms. Now she's getting older and wants to mingle with people now. The problem, humans aren't accepting of that behavior and she's an outcast. Most people in town openly avoud her. Her struggle with Blitzo is that despite him rasing her, she wonders what would have happened if he left her on the streets and maybe adopted and raised by other humans.

- Blitzo having her working in IMP to show her that people aren't actually all that great. But Luna has more of a problem faking good behavior. (Her relationship with Moxxie is better because he is teachering her about people. Luna will go to Moxxie for questions rather than Blitzo. He and Blitzo have a strain relationship due to this. Doesn't help that Bliz will make things up when he doesn't know, which will screw Luna over socially)

- Moxxie keeps his backstory but instead of the mob, he's born to a cultist family. Not like in S1E1, but a more large scale. His mother got in young and fell for one of the high ranking members. Overtime it got too much and when Moxxie is really young, his mother tries to leave. She is killed for this and Moxxie lives in fear. It is framed like an accident.

- The Millie shows up after being summon by Moxxie during a rite of passage ritual or something similar. Since he summoned her, he's the one that get to request something of her. He asks that everyone forgets he exists/thinks he died with his mother.

‐ The request is granted. But Moxxie has nothing to his name. The streets in the city are too harsh, so he stays in town, scared and keeping his head down. Maybe takes up odd jobs to stay afloat. Crimson comes in later, fining revords of Moxxie, and starts investing. Maybe he summons Striker.

- Stolas is the next leader of the cult. Handed sown from his father. Chosen blood or something. He summons a demon bride, Stella, to bring in the anti-christ. He goes along because he feels like he has no choice. But like Moxxie, he's wanted out for a long time.

- He happens upon Blitzo and is delighted to find that at least this demon is pleasant. Their relationship starts as just a break from things. Blitzo is still a low level demon. He shouldn't even be on earth. How he got there is a mystery, but he can't go back to hell. If anyone find out, then he's dead.

- Blitzo still has to eat (or maybe just feed Luna) and Stolas can't hide him, so he gives Blitze the magic book. Not to get from hell and back, but to trasport himself around earth. His clients contact him online or through the phone. Moxxie joins in cuz he's getting desperate. Millie's been working within the cult since being summon by Moxxie. She enjoys his companyso they stick together and grow close. She gives him a sense of safety, and he's teaching her about humans. She becomes softer overtime because of it.

- Moxxie would be more sensitive to killing, so hewouldbe the one to use the book, he's more trained in magic anyway, and would stay in the office to transport everyone.

- Luna uses traveling around to get practice interacting with people. She doesn't have to see them everyday, so failing has less of a sting and lingering embarrassment.

- Octavia is half demon, half human. She's a teen whose confused on what to do with herself. Stella is ruling a section of hell, she doesn't have the time to be a parent or the interest. For the first time Stolas feels like he can connect with someone of his family without all the expectation. He teaches her about the cult, but make time for nicer things. He teaches her about life.

- Octavia is conflicted about her role in the cult. She's part demon but isn't taught their cruelty. She feels isolated and sufficated. Then by one chance outing she meets Luna. Some who understand. Someone to open up too.

- I'm not sure how Stolas and Blitzo's romantic relationship would develop, but I like the idea of them being less hesitant about it when their daughters become friends.

- Blitzo is hiding on earth because of a huge messup. Maybe something that injuries Fizz, gets his mother killed, and gets Barb to hate him. But unlike the show he is fully at fault. There's no way to apologize or take it back.

( Maybe he tries to take a stash of souls/their energy to make himself more powerful cuz he's tired of being at the bottom. But it goes wrong and they get released. They end up in heaven, tipping the scales and setting hell back centuries. Satan himself wants to throw Blitzo into the void.

It could be why they cult is so important. The more it grows, the more souls willfully signing themselves over to hell. If it goes wrong Stella has a lit to lose. If she finds him, and Stolas, things will get ugly. But they can't leave the town. Maybe something about concentrated demonic energy that lower level demons need to survive. The cult and its mass of demons us enough for IMP to be around but it doesn't stretch that far.)

- Ozzie (and Fizz), Beelzebub, Mammon and the other Sins appear when IMP need to do work in other locations, near hotbeds of other cults or demonic activities.

[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

[musekicker]

So basically this drabble is parts of episode 5 if fusion were a thing. Naturally spoilers for episode 5. And warnings for a lot of swearing, which is natural for this fandom but still warning for it.

The games were as fun as Blitz hoped for. All the competition and sheer chaos that was promised in the event was there.

Even better, there was Striker.

Not only did the guy have a cool horse but Striker himself was interesting. They got along so well that more then once during the games the two had nearly fused right then and there in front of a large crowd. A sort of natural reaction to how in sync they were feeling.

As much as that would had been quite the show, Blitz had not given in to that urge. He was more interested in showing off his own induvial talents at these games.

It almost didn't matter by the end of it as the both of them had came in first place at the games.

All in all, a good fucking day. At least it was until Blitz caught Striker in Millie's parents house, at the window with a view of the stage in the festival and just about to kill Stolas with a heaven blessed weapon, 

Well, that couldn't stand.

Blitz let Striker know as much, his gun aimed at Striker. On his end, Striker didn't seemed concerned. More like amused. Which honestly pissed Blitz off more.

But then Striker starting moving forward and Blitz backed up a bit before he knew it. Then Striker began talking. Of things like how he and Blitz were superior to most of their kind. Or how Stolas just used Blitz as a play thing. That Blitz could do so much better.

Striker was just throwing out a flurry of words that were both partially truth and things that Blitz had not ever thought he would be hearing out loud from anyone. Blitz was struggling with so many things with these words. So busy in his own head he didn't realize he was being directed to the wall until his back was to it.

Now Striker had Blitz up against the wall, hands braced on the wall on either side of Blitz's head. Looking up into the eyes he could feel the urge to just drop the gun aimed at Strikers chest.

Was that some unknown power of Strikers? Or was that all him?

Striker, noting the hesitation continued on.

"Fuse with me." Striker said.

Blitz looked up at Striker with a questioning look.

"Come on Blitz." Striker said, sounding almost amused by Blitz's clear confusion.

The tension in the room suddenly seemed to rise. Up to higher levels of it until something would soon snap.

"You know that we nearly fused more then once during the games. So I know you wouldn't be adverse to fusing with me." Striker said.

Blitz didn't even attempt to act like that wasn't true. Striker clearly had felt the same way during the games, given how he had grinned at Blitz each time it nearly had happened. Always pushing a bit closer and closer to the edge of actual fusion.

"Together we'll take down this blue blood. Both our fingers will be on that trigger. And then we can be the most dangerous thing in hell." Striker said.

"That's... a good fucking pitch." Blitz said.

"Been work shopping it." Striker admitted.

In the moment it was tempting. 

Blitz couldn't deny there was something about Striker that made him want to just throw everything and run off with this guy.

Not that he was going to, as tempting as it really was. Not with Loona and his employees in his life.

Thankfully he did not have to distract for very long. Moxxie showed up, gun aimed at Striker. Too bad the fucker even got the upper hand back quickly. Enough so that Blitz tried to call Loona. When he realized she was going to be taking her time, Blitz took matters in his own hands, or rather foot when he kicked up at Strikers leg.

More fighting, and Blitz fought just as viciously as Striker. It was after Blitz slammed him across the face with his horns did Striker realize he would not be able to continue his job. But there was still a way that Striker could get at the very least one thing he wanted.

"Should had said you wanted to dance, darlin." Striker said, getting a hold of Blitz's arm during the battle.

There was a interesting belief about fusions. The strong ones often learned their fusion trigger actions fast. Some of them danced, some held hands. Some even jumped into the others arms.

Striker knew those things would not work with his and Blitz's fusion.

"What the fuck are you-" Blitz started to say.

Striker pulled Blitz close, chest to chest, and in one, swift action slammed his lips up against Blitz's. The fusion started to form immediately. 

"Sir!" Moxxie cried, far too late to stop the fusion.

Smoke was swirling in the air. Bright, swirled, green eyes were suddenly visible in the smoke and then the smoke cleared.

The new fusion form stood tall, it's form clad in a long, black coat, that seemed to move in the wind though they were inside and there was no heavy breeze present. The coat went up far enough that it, a hat, and a red scarf hid the face of the fusion. All except those green eyes.

Other details were the two sets of horns. One Blitz's horns and one Strikers. The tail meanwhile was longer then normal and whip like as it moved.

The new fusion looked down at his hands a moment, seeming surprised this had worked. Then a small laugh.

"I feel like our name is Outlaw." the new form said, looking down to Moxxie.

Moxxie's eyes went wide at the appearance of this fusion. With Blitz fused with him like this, Moxxie could not shoot. Not if he didn't want to risk killing his own boss.

"Oh crumbs." Moxxie said.

The fusion should had fallen apart. That was how fusions where all parties were not agreed worked, right? Yet here Outlaw was, still walking towards Moxxie with menace, tail lashing the air.

"Time to take you out for good, vermin." Outlaw said.

Outlaw suddenly stopped in their steps, clutching one arm and shaking.

"No. We are NOT fucking doing this!" Blitz's voice cried from the Outlaw form.

Blitz was trying to get free of the form. The Striker part of the fusion however was not easily letting Blitz go. 

"You think you can fight your way out of this? Not happening." the Striker part of the fusion said.

Moxxie considered running for help at this moment. But he also feared if he left Outlaw would just leave, taking Blitz with it. So he just stood there as he didn't know how to help his boss with this battle.

Outlaw suddenly straightened up and was no longer shaking.

"Now now. Behave." Outlaw said, clearly no longer in odds with itself. At least not in a way that was visible to Moxxie.

Now Outlaw's attention was back on Moxxie. The fusion summoned two guns to it's hands. Jet black things with hellfire glowing inside the barrels. Moxxie would be more impressed by the guns if his life were not in danger right now.

"Sir.. sir please. You don't want to do this." Moxxie said.

Outlaw laughed.

"You think you can reach him? Good luck. I've got my claws in him and I'm not letting go." Striker said.

The guns were aimed at Moxxie. Moxxie very well would had died right then if the door to the room slammed open, nearly hitting Moxxie.

Loona was here.

"Okay I'm here. What do you want?" Loona grumbled.

She looked around the room before seeing Outlaw. Outlaw turned on Loona, eyes narrowed. Loona, sensing ill intent right away snarled and readied to attack.

"Loona wait! Blitz is in that fusion!" Moxxie cried.

That was enough to stop Loona in her tracks.

"What?" she asked.

 The moment that Outlaw trained their guns on Loona the shaking from before happened again, this time more intense.

One arm gripped the other, pushing down and forcing at least one of the guns to face down to the floor.

"No! You will not hurt my daughter!" Outlaw roared, in two different voices rather then one.

Then Outlaw slammed themselves against the wall, forcing the other hand to drop it's gun. It took about a minute more of shouting, sometimes in one voice and sometimes in two. And it took a lot more frantic action of fighting with ones self.

In one final slam against the wall, fusion had finally fallen apart. Loona and Moxxie hurried over to Blitz.

"Are you okay?" Moxxie asked.

Blitz sat up grumbling.

"Just help me up to blow a hole in that fuckers skulls." Blitz snarled.

Sadly when the three looked to where Striker was last, he was already gone.

"Shit." Blitz growled.

Blitz started to his feet and stumbled. After that forced fusion and fighting it so hard, Blitz was just drained.

He let Moxxie help support him to his feet.

"I need a nap." Blitz grumbled.

As he, Moxxie, and Loona exited the room Blitz could only think of two things.

The first was how easily Striker had been able to trap him in the fusion for that long. 

And the second and most worrying though. 

This was not over.

[ambrial-blog]

I.C.U.:

When the Boss imp doesn’t wake and winds up in the I.C.U. following the event of truth seekers. 

Everyone is left in a manic state. Forced to take refuge in the human world, Stolas, Moxie, Millie and Loona take Blitzo into a human-ran-hospital. mistaken as a pet- and told to go to the veterinarian. Stolas persuades the doctor to take on as a secret patient. 

His life utterly depended on it. 

The Head nurse, who resembles a female Atilla the Hun, greets them with a dour expression on her face, like she had just at a lemon. 

Loona growls at her, tense her claws biting into her hands. She delivers morose news. Blitzo had been hiding a heart murmur from them for some time. The murmur had exploded into renal heart failure. 

Saddled with the disturbing news that Blitzo might not be coming home, the four demons sit beside themselves wrapped up in their own dark thoughts. 

One of the last things she had ever said to him echoes in her head. Now she might never get to tell him how she feels. How could he hide something like this from them?. 

Did he try to tell them, and they weren’t listening? 

The Goetic prince asks to see him, but the nurse is abdomen about following the rules and allowing one in at a time. 

  Moxie stood up counting head and then gave the nurse a quizzical look. While the rest looked at each other and then back at the nurse. 

The nurse carries on saying that his husband is in there with him and reassuring no-one that he is taking care of things. 

“And who exactly is his husband?” asked Stolas, interrupting Moxie, who was about to ask the same question. 

“I don’t have his name answers the nurse while flipping through her charts, but he must hail from Austin Texas. He is a southern gentleman. she acclaims.

 “If I wasn’t married”- she went on a tinge of pink flushed her cheeks. 

“I thought you said Blitz was an animal?” inquires Millie, throwing the nurse a skeptical look. 

The nurse shakes her head. 

“Its Striker!”.. he is in there, probably finishing the job! snarls Moxie, his fists clenched, eyes screwed shut. 

He lied to us... he never told us about his heart murmur and now-

“How could he lie to us? We never asked about him about this-, we just took him for granted.” 

“Like he’d always be there, like he’d always bounce back” Loona looks up with tears in her eyes. Springing from her chair, her hands coming to grip the lapels of her white coat. A look of surprise on the nurse’s face. 

“It will be okay, the nurse reintegrated. “He is in excellent hands, the lord’s hands,” she says. 

“Crap! She’s christen,” Loona glowers. 

“It is all up to the cowboy. I’ve checked out his records and their emasculate. at least someone knew of his condition and if anyone could help that poor thing pull through, it would be him,” she says. 

“But he’s lying. He doesn’t care about Blitzo! Moxie barges in. he is an assassin for hire.. he’s here to kill him! Do you understand, ma’am? 

“Possum, if that Texan wanted to kill him, he’d done so by now.  I think I can spot a budding romance a mile away. 

“Oh yea, the last romance you had was a bull!” snarls Moxie

The nurse pinches the bridge of her nose, my shift is ending shortly shorty, and if you're here when I get off.. “the unspoken threat hung in the air. 

-

Why is he hiding these types of problems? Aren’t we family! Stolas remained quiet. He wanted- no, needed to see Blitz to hear his voice. The man was blaming himself. He should have never allowed Blitzo near his grimoire, maybe things would have been different if he was more acclaim to tell the demon no. 

We wait for the shift turnover and then we go looking for his room. Both Blitzo and this unnamed cowboy have some explaining to do. quips the owl.

“He has a name your highness, he has tried to sway Blitzo at the harvest moon festival and now- he’s planning on finishing the job”  Moxie’s voice cut through his thoughts. 

“And you're sure it is my little imp he is after?” inquires the prince. Moxie gulps Blitzo was trying to distract him at the fall festival. His true target is you, sir,” Moxie answers, his voice trembling. 

Stolas stares blankly out into the dark corridors of the hospital. He had his qualms about his wife. 

Secret meeting, hushed phone calls late at night. Something was going on. The prince had suspected his wife to be a part of of his assassination. They were growing apart any now-. 

Nothing screamed louder than the need to be by Blitzo’s side. 

“What have I done? I’ve endangered them both. My starphire and my little imp,” 

His lower lip wobbles.

“Blitzy, when did I lose you?” he wonders. 

-

The Harvest Moon Festival wasn’t their first meeting. Apparently, when Blitzo stole Verosika’s credit card and maxed it out on shitty horse-riding lessons was. 

They hadn’t exchanged names or anything-  and Striker wasn’t his instructor: Derringer was- a gray-skinned snake imp cowboy who had taken a liking to the city imp. 

Derringer was an old family friend. Blitzo’s uncles, Riff-Raff, and Scarecrow owned a ranch here in Wrath where the harlequin was staying. 

The peach-skinned cowboy lived up a mile from one of Blitzo’s uncle. he was always helping, carrying bushels/ barrels of hay over his shoulder. The Ring Marcs and Remington’s were constantly feuding and or fighting over something..  

Blitzo was no exception. Drake would often gloat to one brother about how Blitzo’s uncles were thinking about giving him away. And the shadow-serpents were keen on taking the scarlet imp for themselves. Riff-Raff wanted money. He was always squabbling with his brother. 

If it wasn’t for Rattle, and Natalie, the brothers would have lost their farm and acres to the king of greed.  

“Were not selling Blitzo, and that’s final snarls scarecrow”  

“Blitz, will have to choose” he doesn’t have to marry Derringer, he could marry Drake or Draimen. 

“I’m not selling our nephew!, so you can sleep better!” snarls the older brother. Ramming a pitchfork into the ground and wiping his brow. 

“We might not have a choice, brother. Mammon can be very persuasive and he is a stickler about life debts” 

“It’s not Blitzo’s serving out” 

“Cael is dead! They found his rotting ass out in the dunes of the desert. Some say he was headed here when he died” 

“Blitzo doesn’t belong here” Riff-Raff counters. 

“He does, and I’m finished with this conversation,” Scarecrow snarls.

“Then we should put the imp out of his misery!, he was born with a heart defect!

“Shut up, you speak another word of this, and you're no brother of mine” Scarecrow warns. 

“I want to see him taken care of as much as you do. He can’t thrive here! he’ll die here! Is that what you want, Scar?

-

Blitzo hated being the topic of a crude conversation between his two uncles. He knew he was unwanted on the farm. That his only friends were the RingMarc brothers and the Remington Brothers. six serpents who didn’t want Blitzo to go anywhere. 

-

Blitzo didn’t have anywhere else to go, but he couldn’t stay in wrath. He hated when his uncles fought. Blitzo needed to make things right. He was seventeen, and he was itching to leave. He had taken one of his uncle’s horses out of the stable. Firelight neighed, nudging his hand looking for a sugar-cube Blitzo would often sneak her. 

But the imp hadn’t expected his horse to get spooked. Firelight took off running into the open fields towards Remington farm. Striker looked up from where the fields parted to see a runaway horse barreling its way towards him. Blitzo had a fearful look on his face, his eyes wide as he held on tight. The loud ruckus brought a crowd.

Striker held out his hand to calm the devil and his horse, his hat was tipped to the sun, his arms outstretched as Blitzo fell into his arms. Striker’s tail wound itself around the red-skinned devil’s waist.

He looked up at the porch where his mother stood towel drying her hands and calling for her boys. 

“I guess will set another plate,” she smiles

“Shitty, horse riding lessons, huh?” Striker smirks, winking at the scarlet devil.

“Something like that,” Blitzo answers. 

“After dinner, there is a giant swing out back. My brothers are gone on a drive with my dad. It’s just you and me, sugar-cube,” 

-

It had been years since Striker had sprung the question on him, getting on one knee in front of a roaring crowd during the pain-games. A year where Stolas himself was absent for the harvest moon festival, but his daughter was the one- ushering in the accursed glow from the true harvest moon. 

-

Moxie probably blocked it out, and Stolas had trouble believing it himself. But the city imp was married to a country bumpkin. Who, after all these years, was still feuding with the Ring Marcs. 

-

“Sugar-cube” Striker’s voice purrs into his ear. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving your side until you're feeling better. Until this whole thing passes and we get to go home. “Mom has been asking about you, he says, wiping the tears from Blitzo’s eyes, so had Adrian, Malachi and Remington. Auri is still asking for your hand in marriage. Vesper made you this tiny wooden horse. And I have the staff eating out of my hands. 

“your the world to me, Blitz, so don’t give up on me darlin,” 

-

[vizowrites]

OOOH I GOT A GOOD BLITZSTRIKE IDEA FROM EPISODE 6!! So you know that blitz had a I'm assuming was a illusion with poorly drawn moxxie and striker, etc yea that but striker just came to save the day! Da da daaaaaa (I am morning drunk-)

I made a post about just how badly I needed this exact thing in my life so THANK YOU SO MUCH for sending it to meeeeeeeeeee!! <3 <3

Now normally I'm all for the AU idea of Striker joining I.M.P. and just kind of automatically jumping in as an official member of their unofficial family, but I have to say for this.....I actually kind of like it better if I stick more to the canon here. Striker's not a member of I.M.P., he's still got his angel weaponry and the bounty on Stolas's head to settle after the mishap at the Harvest Moon Festival, and--most importantly--hasn't crossed paths with Blitz [or any of the others for that matter] since.

He hadn't been expecting it to happen when it did that night, either.

There wasn't much on Striker's mind other than his target as he slithered his way through the servant's quarters entrance of Stolas's manor house, entirely uncaring of the numerous cameras and other security features that he passed along the way. He had it on good faith that they would just happen to be disabled that night--a pissed off royal birdie had told him so. He'd also been told exactly how to navigate his way through the house undetected, exactly which rooms to avoid, and exactly where he would find the "cheating prick" at this hour. What he hadn't been told--and what he'd deliberately chosen not to ask--was just what the Goetian Prince would be doing by the time he made his soundless entry into his study. There was a small part of him, somewhere deeper than he usually cared to try to reach, that couldn't help but think of a certain impressive imp Boss that might be involved. There was an even deeper part of him, though, that felt the sharp sting of conflict as he found he couldn't make up his mind on whether he was hoping to see said impressive imp Boss there or not, considering what he would probably be doing.

His tail unconsciously flicked once, causing Striker to coil it tightly around himself in order to prevent what would have become a full blown rattle otherwise. This was ridiculous. He was here for one thing and one thing only: he had a job to do.

A job he was fully intending to enjoy.

A slow grin spread across his face as he shrugged the strap of his angelic rifle down from his shoulder, catching the weapon effortlessly and feeling the warm sting of its power against his fingertips. He really was going to enjoy this, he thought to himself as he silently crept into the study, taking advantage of the many outrageously sized pieces of furniture casting shadows around the room to stay hidden.

Just one shot. He just needed one shot.

The flickering glow of what he presumed to be firelight seemed to beckon him, encouraging him, and before he knew it he had the butt of the rifle pressed firmly into his shoulder and his right hand hovering just beside the trigger--ready and waiting to take aim and fire. All he needed was one glance now, just enough to see where exactly Stolas was in the room, and then it would be over. The fact that he couldn't hear the owl demon moaning in ecstasy strangely pleased him at his core, confirming that he in fact wasn't enjoying the company of his favorite plaything tonight. Good. It meant he didn't need to spare a second thought for who else might get caught in the crossfire. Anyone else honestly wouldn't matter.

.....He tried to distract himself from thinking about that thought too deeply by finally taking his glance, trying to focus back on the one who didn't matter to him at all.

Instead, he found himself looking straight at the one being that did.

"Blitz--" The half-whisper caught in the back of his throat, thankfully stiffling the majority of the sound as Striker's eyes went wide. He didn't know how the hell Stolas was doing this--he didn't know this was something the Ars Goetia could do--but somehow, in the middle of what he'd previously thought was just a fireplace casting the twisting forms of light and darkness across the room, was a strange mirror-like orb that seemed to be reflecting an image to the Prince sitting across from it in one of his high-backed chairs.

An image of Blitz, tied to a much smaller chair, struggling as some strange green something started to pool beneath his feet.

What the flying fuck was happening?

"Oh darling, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Stolas cooed from across the room, completely oblivious to the hitman staring at him as he watched the scene unfold before him as if it was his favorite daytime drama. "Let's be extra careful about what we say from here on out, shall we? You're not going to be very happy with me if I have to come down there and take my book back from your charming daughter. Especially since that's going to delay her rescuing of you by quite a bit."

Striker didn't know what to do. There was a part of him that felt the unmistakable urge to just raise his weapon and fire, to carry on with the plan just as he'd intended and figure out the rest from there. But there was that other, deeper, part of him that had frozen, leaving him unable to look at or think about anything other than the imp that was now spilling his guts out in whatever room he was in as easily as if he'd just been sliced open.

And the vermin was there with him--apparently tripping balls as he slumped into his own chair and started mumbling incoherently.

Perfect.

"Now just what is happening here?" Stolas murmured, his voice catching Striker's attention--that urge flaring up in him again, and yet, before he could think about whether or not to actually take aim at him, he instead watched as Stolas lifted his hand from beneath his chin and gave a little wave over the orb. The image within shifted, rippling as if it were made of water, and when it finally settled again it was of something new:

Moxxie, now freed from his bonds, making his way up a marble staircase lined with candelabras towards a cape-wearing Blitz playing piano.....and they were both singing.

What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening??

"Ooohh my," Stolas chuckled delicately from behind his curved fingers, amusement sparking in his glowing crimson eyes as he watched the scene unfold. "Your little underling here has quite the imagination now, doesn't he? Well if his truth is this entertaining--" He lifted his hand once more, his fingertips hovering over the unnaturally glowing scene. "--I really must see yours now, Blitzy."

Don't--

Striker didn't know why he felt such a sudden surge of protectiveness for Blitz's privacy of all things in that moment, but seeing the image ripple again as it began to change had him biting his lip hard enough that he could feel it start to bleed. Just what the fuck was this asshole doing? Did he just get himself off to spying on Blitz like this?? At times when he's clearly in trouble and needing help that isn't prying into his drug-induced hallucinations??

If he'd been a better person, he would have killed Stolas then and there just to make this stop. But since he wasn't, his curiosity stilled his hands for another few moments as the window into Blitz's vison settled into view.

He didn't like any part of what he saw.

The memory of himself referring to Blitz as a "rodeo clown of a boss" came back to him with the viciousness of a bite, causing him to tense as he watched as Blitz--stumbling around in a clown costume--started getting tormented by voices and swirling figureless masses of color. The first to solidify was Moxxie, spewing bullshit that honestly Striker could barely care to keep up with, except for the fact that it was so obviously berrating Blitz for.....something. Just what the hell did Blitz care what that little baby dick had to say? He knew he was better than that.

.....Didn't he?

Striker felt his grip on the rifle loosening as he sank back fully onto the floor, his pale eyes glinting and his tail starting to vibrate hard against his shirt. He tried to muster up every ounce of his self control, willing it to stop before the rattling sound tipped off Stolas--only for his tail to go utterly still as something very similar lashed its way around Blitz's throat and threw him to the ground.

And there he was, staring at himself.

"But you don't want to do things alone Blitzo!"

Hearing himself--not himself, that wasn't even his fucking voice--say that made his blood run cold with rage. How fucking dare whoever was doing this impersonate him like this! Using him to torment Blitz like this! And Blitz was seemingly actually buying it--wait, Stolas had called this Blitz’s “truth”.  Did this mean.....was this what Blitz thought of him?? What the fuck!? Since when the hell did Blitz ever hear Striker call him "Blitzo" once before in his life?? Never! He wanted to grab Blitz by the shoulders and shake him, screaming right into his face that he would never say his name like that when he knows damn well that the O is silent! Okay, so he might’ve called him “Blitzy” when they parted ways because he was bitter over Blitz choosing to stop him from killing Stolas instead of running off with him to take down Overlords--and that was his bad.  And yeah, he might've been trying to get on his good side to have an easier shot at killing Stolas, sure, but...that didn't mean that the things he'd said to Blitz weren't true! He really did want to be partners!

The scene changed again, another set of stairs, and Blitz frantically climbing up them to try and escape the figures that were literally haunting him--Striker feeling that cold burn spread in his chest at the sight of being one of them.

Though nothing could have prepared him for the tidal wave of feeling that would crash over him in the moment he saw just who was waiting for Blitz at the top of those stairs.

Stolas.

You Daddy Fucker.

"Are you afraid to love people, Blitzy?"

Striker's fingers clenched so hard around his rifle that he thought he was going to snap it in two, his pale gold-green eyes fixed on the sight of Blitz crawling on his hands and knees up that glowing staircase, as golden chains fastened around each of his wrists and around his neck. The rest of the voices were lost to the roar of whitenoise now ringing in Striker's ears as he watched Stolas pull Blitz willingly onto his lap, holding him by that chain attached to the collar at his throat.....

"Oh Blitzy--!"

And when he heard that erotic gasp and saw that look on Blitz's face, he finally couldn't take it.

The next thing he knew, he was back in the hallway, making a beeline for the room that he'd been instructed to go to only after he'd finished the job. Oh he was going to finish it all right. He was going to finish it slowly and painfully. But there was something even more important that he had to finish first.

He honestly didn't remember what he'd said when he stormed into Stella's room. He didn't know how long he had been there and he had no idea how he got away with being there for any amount of time without her calling for security to run in and tackle him to the ground. Most of all, he had absolutely no idea what the hell kind of reason he could have possibly given for her to locate the party of imps on Earth and open him a portal to get to them--but whatever reason he gave must've been a pretty damn good one. The next thing he knew there was a glowing blue door literally opening in front of his face, revealing a blood soaked room and the now united beings of Hell trapped between a steel door and two human fuckers who were pointing pistols at their faces.

At Blitz's face.

The shots rang out one after the other, followed by the distinct meaty thuds of two bodies hitting the floor. Striker didn't particlarly notice the fact that the portal had closed behind him the minute he stepped into the room, rendering him just as trapped as the others, but he also didn't particularly care. That bird bitch was still going to get exactly what she wanted when he got back--he would make sure of it. But for now, at least, it was enough just to be able to stride over to that face--full of disbelief and shock--and cup it tenderly in his palm.

"You ain't gotta do jack shit alone, Blitz," he said, and the sincerity of his own voice shook him from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. "You're not alone, Blitz."

He didn't know it until much much later, but hearing Striker say those words to him had made Blitz feel as though he'd just been handed the keys to his chains.

[vizowrites]

ANGST TIIIMMEEEE!!!!

So-- we have Blitz's fear of being left/abandonment issues. He's scared Striker will leave him because he manages to fuck up everything good in his life. At least, that's the mindset he is in. But what if Striker and Blitz get in a really bad fight, decide to sleep on it and deal with it in the morning, only for Striker to wake up the next day and see that Blitz has up and left? After all of the validation and reassuring he'd always stay by Blitz's side, only to be left by said imp? It absolutely breaks Striker to the point he can't live with himself for losing something so meaningful to him. I can only imagine the cries he would let out when he gets a voicemail the next day at 3 in the morning from Blitz (who bought another burner phone cause he left his smartphone at home) saying he needed space and was on his way back to Striker.

If you think about it, at one point Blitz stole Verosika's credit cards and ran off to a completely different ring in hell when he broke up with her. It only makes sense that running would be his first instinct when it comes to rough roads in a relationship or even commitment. (So I could also see this happening if Striker proposed to him and Blitz would want to run off and avoid the topic.)

What are your thoughts?

This is fine. I didn't need those feels today anyway. :'D

OKAY BUT NO THIS IS HORRIBLY BEAUTIFULLY FANTASTIC AND THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS AHHHHHHH!! For as much as I'm loving the fluffy stuff and the smutty stuff with these two, there really isn't anything quite like when they're hurting.

The thing I love the most about these two and their relationship is that I truly do think that they have a ton of things in common--and specifically distinctive character traits that make this exact scenario not only possible but fascinating to think about. We all know that Blitz's insecurities and self-destructive tendencies have been extensive enough that there's an entire show being made about them (lol). And Striker--from what we've seen of him so far--seems like the "tumbleweed" type who just kind of moves around from place to place as needed for his hitman jobs, not really giving much of a shit for anything other than being the one to come out on top. They both want to be treated with respect and be in positions of power that are "higher" than what most other imps get to experience in Hell, and they both are willing to go to the extreme in order to make that happen. However, the thing I think is most interesting about them is where they differ--where Striker seems perfectly content to go about doing this on his own and keep the spotlight on himself, whereas Blitz, though he makes it clear that he's the Boss, needs to be part of a partnership. And yet it's always Blitz who's the first one to up and run when he thinks that things might be starting to crash around him, whereas Striker seems much more set in his mind to stick things out to the end no matter what [as shown by his calling Stella to straight up admit that he failed to kill Stolas the first time around, but assured her that he's going to keep trying to get it done instead of just taking her blessed weapons and running off somewhere]. For being the one who's always working solo, Striker fucking commits to doing exactly what he says he's gonna do. Blitz, on the other hand, freaks himself out too easily--probably because he seemingly lost his initial partner-in-crime, his twin sister Barbie Wire, back in the day--and probably doesn't want to go through losing his "other half" if you will all over again.

Now of course this isn't an exact translation here because Barbie Wire is Blitz's twin sister and people like Verosika and Striker [and I've even heard some interesting theories about Fizzeroli] are romantic interests, BUT I think that there is a distinct overlap there when it comes to this idea of losing someone that's supposed to be closer to you than anyone else in the world that does explain why Blitz is the way he is when he hits that wall of turning his tail and running. And let's be real here, Striker is not an idiot. He knows this about Blitz [whether or not Blitz ever gives him the full backstory about Barbie] and I'm sure that's why Striker's gone out of his way to assure Blitz that no matter what shit hits the fan, he's going to be right there with him to scrape it off the walls. He doesn't want Blitz to be afraid that in ten years, Striker's just going to be another Verosika fighting with Blitz over a parking space. He also sure as hell doesn't want Blitz to think that he's just going to be content with obliviousness--either turning a blind eye or just enjoying the bliss of ignorance--about the deeper aspects of Blitz's life the way certain feathered Princes tend to do consciously or subconsciously. He wants, so badly, to make it abundantly clear that he loves Blitz more than anything and is committed to their relationship in a way that no other previous partner in Blitz's life has ever been.

.....So of course his heart is completely shattered to pieces when he wakes up the morning after that fight and Blitz is nowhere to be seen. And if it's the morning after he proposed and he found Blitz gone--the scream he would let out would be truly, hauntingly unholy.

The same string of thoughts hit him one after another, like bullets from a firing squad: He's not surprised. Is he suprised? He shouldn't be surprised. Yes he fucking should, this is different! Blitz wasn't supposed to want to leave him! What did he do to make Blitz feel like he had to leave him? Sure he said some stupid shit--he's usually better spoken than that--fuck, why did he have to be so shit with words at the times that it really mattered?

He does this to himself for hours, racking his brain with everything he said--all the stupid angry things you say in the heat of a fight / all the fumbling cheesy things you say when you're trying to find words to explain that you want to spend the rest of your life with the person standing in front of you. Striker knows how to charm and he knows how to manipulate, but he's never ever been good at expressing sentimental feelings with words. And with Blitz--it always feels like it isn't enough. He thinks he knows what he's doing, and he tries so so hard to make Blitz feel safe and secure and happy. Satan, he's never wanted to see another being happy as badly as he wants to see Blitz happy. He knows it's terrifying and downright dangerous to admit outloud but.....at least to himself.....he can admit that he would do anything to make Blitz truly happy. Anything.

He loves him.

~*~*~

When Blitz finally does make it back, he's not at all prepared for what he finds. Striker looks every bit like he's just been running himself ragged in circles since Blitz left, and his tail is rattling intensely behind him. The sound of it makes Blitz flinch--it's his least favorite one out of all of Striker's rattles: thin and sharp like shards of broken glass. It's the rattle he makes when he's extremely agitated about something, and not in the angry way.....but in the hurt and worried and frightened way.

For a moment they just stand there looking at each other--well, Blitz looking everywhere but at Striker's eyes, and Striker's eyes unable to look anywhere but right at Blitz's face. Neither say a word. Neither of them move.

"I thought...I t-thought I was different," Striker finally manages to say brokenly, barely able to keep himself together enough to speak.

Blitz still doesn't say anything for a moment, and there's that familiar terrified spark in his eyes that makes Striker think that he's going to bolt on him again--this time right in front of his face. Instead, Blitz takes a slow, hesitant step towards him...and then another...and then, as carefully as if he were walking across a landmine instead of across their living room, makes his way over to Striker, though he still can't quite bring himself to meet his eyes at first.

".....You are different," he whispers faintly after a long stretch of silence, and, just when Striker thinks that he's going to have to tilt Blitz's chin up just to look at him, Blitz not only lifts his eyes to meet Striker's...but he reaches out to take his hand as well. He squeezes.

And that's when it clicks.

That's when Striker knows.

He might not have been the first one that Blitz has ever run away from.....but he's the one and only person that Blitz has ever come back to.

He is different.