#hellvua wallpaper

Blitzo and his love for horses... 

“And what’s that riding him?” asks Blitzo. 

“That’s a cowboy, Moxie answers palming his face with his hands. They needed to get out of wrath before Blitzo decided to use his paycheck to purchase riding lessons from Striker. 

“Saddle up Blitzy” 

“Not so fast,  ya ditsy blue-blood”  who do you think your fooling?” growls Striker. Stepping out of the shadows.  “oh Lucifer, here comes another one thought Octavia wishing her dad would just leave the fire imp alone.  But, no he had to embarrass her. 

“Step away from the imp” growls the snake imp coming to stand behind Blitzo. A clawed hand rested on his shoulder. “I’m going to have to burn those, thinks the cowboy. his grip tightening on the scarlet devil’s shoulder. Blitzo winces as he is forcibly turned. Striker wraps his tail around Blitzo’s waist.  If the prince wasn’t careful he’d insight an Alpha fight. 

Striker flexes his claws, his arm draped over Blitzo’s chest he pulls the imp closer.  “This here is my partner and mate what do you think your trying to start?” growls the Cowboy, shoving a clawed hand down Blitzo’s shirt. He could feel Blitzo’s heart beating rapidly.  their was a blush to his cheeks. Striker just rattles off a growl before scooping Blitzo up, and throwing him over his shoulder. “Next time, Stolas you won’t be so lucky” he growls. 

Night was falling over Wrath as Bombproof settles into the dewy tuffs of long crab grass. While the cowboy and the city imp gather wood, before settling down on a large log.  A bonfire is lit underneath a blanket of darkness. Striker takes out his guitar and strums a few chords. His  tail slithers against the log searching for Blitzo’s.  Who was impressed by the cowboy.

The wrangler continues to serenade Blitzo  watching the bonfire rise: crackling and snapping, sending embers dancing across the skies.  For once in his life Blitzo felt at peace.  it was just the two of them, underneath one sky. Striker’s tail slither across the the dense log searching for Blitzo’s.  If he could make this work, if he could get Blitzo away from the Goeita’s control. More night like these were possible.   Striker purrs as Blitzo scoots closer to him, listening to the cowboy's voice was soothing it brought a sense of peace to the city imp, one he could never replace. 

Blitzo finds himself caught in a one-sided relationship with Stolas. A young noble prince. Coming home one night through the sleeting rain, Blitzo wonders across an unconscious wild man. He takes him home and cleans him. Mending his wounds. And silently observes him for the night, hoping the brazen imp pulls through. Throughout the night he ignores the constant ringing of his cellphone.

He knew he was caught in a dead end with Stolas, yet he hadn’t the means to break free. He doesn’t want to lead the prince on, knowing he was the side piece. Blitzo contemplates breaking it off with Stolas, while taking care of the unconscious man before him.- what in Lucifer had him throwing caution to the side and letting in a total stranger into his shabby three-bedroom apartment. Blitzo had breeched the topic, not wanting to get in between him and his family. The scarlet devil had walked away from that night limping: his torso and chest were peppered with hickies and welts -

Meanwhile, Striker, the wild imp, was looking for his mate. A lover who had disappeared when the poachers had entered their little village. In the Jungle's heart. ” At least he is wearing pants this time,” Blitzo thought, draping an arm around his eyes.

It had been over several days since he had found Striker and taken him in, the Boss imp recalls trying to dress Striker for the first time. He ended up chasing him around the apartment building. Screaming at the top of his lungs. “For the love of Lucifer, they're just pants!”

Striker still, sniffing Blitzo’s neck. ”Watchya doing? Blitzo laughs. “That tickles, Blitzo exclaims as Striker hisses seductively into his ear. ” Pants on!” Blitzo snaps. adamant about dressing the feral imp. Striker tails coyly flicks from side to side. ”Don’t make me chase you around this bed. Come on, daddy’s got work to do! Blitzo cries. ” We’re expecting company,” the Boss imp went on saying. “They’ll be here any minute”

Fine! You stay here Blitzo says watching as Striker’s  tail bristles as he gets into a pounce position.  “I’ll be home at five Blitzo announces backing up and out of the room “Do not scratch my walls!”

_ Moxie’s voice could be heard on the other side of the door. As the specialist escorts his boss to his office. Moxie had been with him since he was eighteen. The older imp practically raised Blitz. After finding him in a cage near the dumpsters. A decent sized cut on his forehead. He was a child and someone out there was treating him like an animal. It took years of recovery, but Blitz was doing better. _ During long stretches of time, Striker flip through some old beat up album hidden beneath the bed. He traces his finger around Blitzo’s face, growling and cooing at the pictures he finds scattered throughout the enormous book.

He growls, his tail flicking from side-to-side, flipping through the album, finding scratches on photos the more resent the pictures became.

He cocks his head to the side, sniffing a picture of Verosika, his eyes wonder to a picture of Fizzorolli something was off about that imp. There was a hidden darkness lurking behind a pair of laughing eyes.

Blitzo was being hunted by Stolas: he ran through the scorching hot deserts of Wrath the volcanic ash fell from the skies. Slipping into an open mouth cave where the low hanging stalactites dripped water.  The Tiny Lizard was alone.

“Now what do we have here?” Hisses Striker.  Blitzo tilts his head to the side. What hellish Au had they landed themselves into.  Stolas was a large owl with a crown on top of his head. he hadn’t been expecting to run into the snake.  Now he was trapped. His tail curled. As Striker slithered into the shadows before coiling around the tiny red and white Lizard. 

It was your average day in Loo-Loo land, Blitzo was looking around for his best friend Fizzorolli. When a stranger approached him, he hadn’t seen this cowboy around before and the young imp wondered if the snake was lost.  

The time traveler tilted his hat, his golden tooth gleaming in the hot noon sun. 

“Are you alone little imp?” 

Blitzo looked around, he had a bad feeling about this. His sister was in the big top, practicing on the trapeze wires and  Fizz, was trying to find a sugary snack for the trio to devour. 

His Momma was gone along with Lord Mammon. his father wasn’t allowed into the amusement park. 

“No! Blitzo answers looking around.  Striker cocks his head to the side and looks around. 

“I see no one here little one, and you remind me of someone dear to me child” 

Blitzo was beginning to get nervous, he didn’t like how close the cowboy was getting. 

“you want to see some tricks mister” Blitzo asks stalling for time or until the stranger took the hint. 

Striker bent down, biting his lip now would be a good chance to snatch him up and take Blitzo back with him. he could groom the child into his own design creating the perfect partner.  he could picture Blitzo all grown up, without IMP’s influence on him, he’d be a killing machine only answering to one code. 

The Cowboy’s. 

The Cowboy reached down intent on picking up the tiny devil and leaving when Blitzo yelled for his friends. 

Fizzy... Barbie... don’t let him take me” Blitzo cries squishing the cowboy’s face. 

Fizz bounds out from the concession stands,  cartwheeling over to his best friend and slamming a fist into the cowboy’s face.  Striker snarls taking out a gun and firing out the tiny demon. 

Fizz cackles spinning chaotically and ramming his head into the cowboy’s stomach.. the snake snarls venomously.. 

Striker turns, Just in time: to meet both Tilla’s and Mammon’s murderous stares.  Tilla had just signed on... unaware she was selling her children into the limelight.  that she had just sold Blitzo and Barbie to a devil of a man... 

Striker clutches his monogramed cellphone: nearly cracking the case. It had been months since the harvest moon festival and the botched assassination attempt. 

A guttural growl scratches at the back of his throat, as he thought about the last time he ran into IMP. He needed to see him, to convince him that their partnership was absolute

That Blitzo was just chasing dreams. 

He needed to wake him up, open his eyes to the hell around him. 

Blitzo’s phone number stared back at him, in bold black letters.  It would be too risky to leave a voicemail. 

But he needed insurance: and those two leeches, he calls employees would suffice The cowboy would have fun, torturing them before ending their Miserable  lives.  

He’d read about, the catastrophe that was the illustrious House of Ausmodeous.  Not doubt, Blitzo was hurting: and licking his wounds.  

In the end, he caved dialing that familiar number.  He thought about hanging up once or twice. 

But he was glad he didn’t. He could hear, the imp pick up. Blitzo took a shuddering breath. 

“Who--who is this?” he asks.  the cowboy grits his teeth, suppressing an irritable hiss and  hating the brokenness in Blitzo’s voice. 

Blitzo’s heart freezes in his chest, it felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. 

“How did you get this number?” he demands. 

“Ride or Die Blitzy, side with me and together will unite hell- underneath an imp pantheon 

“That rich pompous ass, is living on borrowed time, stringing you along darlin”  “I don’t want to talk about-” he couldn’t even say his name. 

“He hurt ya bad, didn’t he sugar-cube?, lets start with him and work our way up the ladder, after I put a bullet in his head, there will be nothing stopping us from pursuing the throne”  

“Striker its late- I was wondering-

“if you want to pick this up in the morning?”  Striker finished. 

Blitzo looks around, his eyes sore from crying. He took another shuddering breath realizing he didn’t want to be alone tonight and if Striker was offering a partnership- if that partnership was still on the table then he wouldn’t be so lonely. 

What could one little night hurt, after all- his own family had left him alone tonight. Loona was gone and Moxie and Millie were to involved with one another to come check on him. 

“Actually Striker, I was wondering if you could pick me up, I don’t feel like driving anywhere tonight-and I don’t want to be alone” he admitted.  Striker’s eyes widened he was halfway out the door, whistling for his stead.