Copyslut Bitch? Copyslut Bitch? Blitz Didn't Think He Had Ever Actually Been Insulted In A Way He Liked

Copyslut bitch? Copyslut bitch? Blitz didn't think he had ever actually been insulted in a way he liked more. The way the doppelganger said it gave him a bizarre and sudden hit of dopamine, and he wanted to give him a thumbs-up or at least tell him he was a good boy for that one, but it was too late. Everything happened so quickly, that asshole grabbed him and--

Shit, shit shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!

Broken glass was suddenly exploding all around them, and no matter how furious Blitz was at the audacity of whoever the fuck this was, because how fucking dare someone dress up like him? A protective instinct kicked in. This fucker was probably still an imp, even if he was under some kind of disguise, and with that glass falling--Blitz gripped the other him, rolling with him as they smashed through the mirrors. And, albeit awkwardly, he pulled his jacket up and over the other's guys face.

"Close your fucking eyes!" he snapped, holding him maybe a little too tightly--legs wrapped around hips that felt weirdly familiar, tail snaking in hard around the other's thighs, his other arm focused on holding the jacket over both of their faces. All around them, more mirrors were breaking, the funhouse floor having shaken just a little too much with the force of their attacks. Glass burst and shattered, and Blitz tried to hold this fucking asshole as close as he could, wanting to protect him--and blissfully unaware just how ironic it was to want to protect someone he had just attacked.

"Listen, just, fuck, fucking like, chill, okay?" As if he himself hadn't been the one to start causing the problems in the first place. "I mean, fuck you," he grunted, their faces way too close together, "but let's try not to fucking bleed to death in our sexy fucking suits, huh?" At least the cascades of breaking glass seemed to be ending, but holy shit they had set off a damn domino effect.

There was some yelling coming from outside--great. Fuck. With a groan, Blitz let go of--of-- Blitz Prime? Glowering at him, he bared his teeth and got to his feet. "I'm still going to kick your ass, but let's get the fuck out of here before someone comes in and tries to make us fucking pay for this shit." He offered his hand, frowning hard, hating this, but absolutely not about to let any of this circus fucks get their grubby little claws into his bank account.

Or their bank account--the guy smelled exactly like him, and looked like him, and sounded like him, and--fuck. Whatever. This was fine. Everything was fucking fine.

【𐂃】 What the actual fuck — did he roast himself back?! He knew his mirror image wasn't mimicking him correctly, but his counterattack echoes threw him for loop. Taken aback, confounded, thinking this had to be some kind of prank. It was too unorthodox, it had to have been? It would accommodate with a funhouse's concept.

❝ wait, wha— ? ❞ words were abruptly ceased when the two made head-to-head impact. Prompting his eyes to render shut with gritting fangs as his body went tumbling backwards. Barreling a few summersaults against the ground for a couple of feet before landing with a heavy THUD. Letting out a snarling "COPYSLUT BITCH" as he quickly sat up. Pissed beyond comprehension.

❝ Now you've done it. THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!? Y' wanna put on a shitshow then fuckin' do it! but leave my FACE out of it. I AIN'T GOT TIME FOR SILLY CHARADES. ❞ Hell, he didn't even pay for any of this shit. In fact... he didn't know HOW he got here. One thing is certain -- he wasn't going to take his "doppleganger"s actions lightly. ❝ I don't care how GREAT your magic is. PLAY STUPID GAMES WIN STUPID PRIZES DUMBASS! ❞ springing back to his feet he immediately took the initiative to charge right back. Grabbing hold of their waistline as he ram their back into the mirrors behind them. Sending the two tussling in the midst of raining shattered shards.

Whoever this copycat was -- he was about to find out how FERAL he can be, because nobody held more hate for Blitzø than Blitzø himself. He had to face his inner demons, himself, constantly day by day. If they wanted a fight, they certainly picked the perfect form to peak his bloodlust.

That gentle little boop damn near knocked the imp over, he was that unsteady on his feet. He'd been beaten to near unconsciousness earlier, fucked hard enough and long enough that he had begged him to stop--without using their safe-word, but he had been damn close-- and his back caned harder still. Even before the fight, Blitz had been exhausted--he had actually curled up and cried on someone, much to his fucking shame, as he came up out of subspace. Thankfully, she didn't know that, but he was on his last legs, the fight--and the wound--having taken a lot out of him.

Her being kind? That was almost too much to handle. Blitz met her eyes, searching them, trying to understand--why? She could get some pleasure from him, be served by him, and never have to look his way again, so why was she bothering? But when he finally let himself look down at his chest--and his ruined shirt, fuck, he had loved that fucking shirt--he felt sick. Thankfully, the blade had hit his sternum, but it had opened a significant laceration in his chest. Muscle and skin gaped open, and while it didn't fully hurt yet, it was a cold sensation, deeply cold.

"Yeah," he said, and pressed a hand against the damaged flesh, trying to hold it shut, "that actually might be a good idea... thank you." Looking up again, he met her eyes once more.

They were beautiful.

Really, really beautiful.

Whatever she was, whoever she was, she was stunning.

"My name's Blitz," he said, his voice soft, smile softer still. Tired, hurting, he still looked like he meant it when he smiled at her, like he couldn't help but smile. "Thank you. For all of this shit. I'm gonna owe you more than head by the time this is all over, babe."

Though she did her best for it not to register upon her face, Visage couldn't contain the faint crease of her brow at the Goetia's rather condescending choice of words. This wasn't an unfamiliar tone to her--the thinly-veiled message of 'you're doing well ... for a hellhound' seemed to color a great many of the meetings she had had thus far with many of her 'peers'. Considering where the Ars Goetia stood upon the proverbial totem pole, she honestly should have seen it coming. Her mixed heritage did little to dull the sting of their judgment, however, when the other half didn't rank much higher. At the end of the day, she was just some hellborn mutt 'putting on airs' and swinging above her weight class, in the eyes of those who thought so little of her. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she pointedly replied, "Oh, I'll be there. Don't you worry." Try as she might, she couldn't keep that venomous edge from her voice. In the end it didn't much matter, as the avian was quick to take his leave not long after, whisking away the injured sinner to who knew where. Somewhere safe was all that Visage hoped. A faint sigh escaped her as she watched Vepar go. Blitz's voice snapped her back to reality, though, giving him a thin lopsided smile. "Yeah, I get that reaction a lot. Hellborn Overlords aren't usually, like ... a thing. Buuuut that's a long and not-all-that-interesting story that can wait for another time. You, though..." Slipping in to swiftly close the space between the imp and herself, the she-wolf leaned down and paused to playfully boop him upon his face where a nose would normally be. "...look like shit. You don't owe me squat 'til we get you taken care of." Standing back to her full height her expression softened visibly. "You wanna 'pay me back', then start by comin' with me back to my place. I got plenty of first aid supplies and we can get that cleaned up in a jiffy."

Although from some people, being patted on the head might feel offensive, or make Blitz grumbled, he closed his eyes and pressed his head up against Deadpool's hand when he did it. This guy, something about him just always, always set the imp at ease. He cherished him and trusted him, and maybe he was an idiot for that, but it felt good to trust someone. It felt good to be touched, so easily and gently, and he knew that if he ever could? He would do anything it took to help this guy.

"Honestly? I've been better," Blitz admitted, rubbing his cheek on Wade's arm as they headed into the building. "I kind of fucked everything up with my--fuck, I can't even say boyfriend. My situationship? And have been trying to deal with what a shitty asshole I am, and like, do better and shit. It's been... hard. Really hard. Having that... you know, last sense of denial ripped away, where you can't even pretend to believe in yourself anymore? It sucks." Once they were inside, he poked around, looking for any plates clean enough to set the bagels out on--there were a few different kinds of fillings, so Blitz cut all of them in half, so they could both try all of them.

"What about you? What's got you so introspective? And believe me, I am gonna do my best to stay outta your prime universe from here on out. Daredevil might not kill people, but mother-fucker he takes you goddamn close, doesn't he?"

Deadpool was having war flash backs when the Imp talked about Daredevil. He had also tried to kill that man for a bounty a few times and those few times he had gotten his ass beaten granted those were in his old days and he was more experince fighter now but, still. He shivered at the thought.

"I would love to hang out bud but, I told you stay out of my prime universe. It's shit show. It's why I left. Don't....fight anyone from there. Most them are assholes and KIND of strong. Let's eat these lunch and let me fix you up. I got some medkits at the apartment just encase." He patted the top of Blitz's head softly.

"Still thanks for coming to hang out. I am....Ok? I think. I been thinking alot of stuff lately. Been....getting treated better but, I don't know I am still struggling alot. How are you doing? And be real with me. I am not gonna judge." He spoke out as he walked Blitz into his building.

The prince's lips come close to Blitz's ear, feather-light touch to the back of his horns; there, and gone within an instant before they settle instead on his feral lover's shoulders. ❝ I thought of you today while I was out, ❞ he begins, lips curving into confident and fond smile. Stolas steps away to pull a heavy velvet bag from within his pocket. He was grateful for it provided the gift it carried. From within, Stolas produces an intricately crafted knife that was almost black, were it not for the shifting sheen of its blade. It changes upon movement like the iridescence of corvid feathers. At the base where blade met hilt, was a singular engraving - a B for his name. ❝. . . one can never have too many weapons, in your case at least. ❞

Blitz had closed his eyes at the wonderful contact from his lover, leaning his head back and reaching up to caress his head with his claws, but he didn't try to hold on. He watched as Stolas moved around him--and then, when the knife came out, his lips parted and his breath caught.

It was beautiful.

There had to be a catch to something so stunning, but it didn't matter. If Stolas trusted it? That was enough for Blitz. He would let his prince ruin him, ruin every last part of him, without hesitation, if that was ever what Stolas needed. It would be a hell of a way to go.

Hand closing around the hilt, a pleased shiver moved through him. The knife fit. It fit in his hand like it was made to be there, and he could practically feel it hissing with eagerness to be christened. Thoroughly charmed by the beauty, the imp turned the blade from side to side for a moment, just watching the way it shimmered, how dark the reflections were, before he looked back up and met his baby's eyes.

"The first person it kills will be in your honor." Leaning up, he kissed them tenderly--even as his tail wrapped hard around their waist, the spade angled away so as not to cut him, but the grip tight. Possessive. Unyielding.

"What can I give you in return, my love? Would you like a prisoner skinned? Would you like to be tied to your throne and toyed with? Parts of you... sealed with wax?" The words were crude, but they were also love, pure love.

Blitz's eyes were never brighter than when he looked at Prince Stolas.

"Damn right. Nobody gets to take you away from me an' Millie. And hey, I'll just be the warm-up act anyway. Millie will take those fuckers down. I'll just soften 'em up for her." Blitz nuzzled him one more time, then helped him get a little more comfortable before he changed the channel to one that kept the sound level low and the visuals simple: insects fluttering around in the sunlight, sometimes birds, squirrels.

Blitz went around and shut off most of the lights, leaving the dim one over the stove on in case Moxxie needed to get up in the middle of the night, or if he had nightmares. That done, Blitz curled up in the little nest he had made for himself on the floor in front of the couch, tucked an arm under his head, and gazed contentedly at the television screen. Soon enough, he felt himself drifting off... but before he did, he flopped his tail up there and wrapped it loosely with Moxxie's tail.

Friends forever, Blitz thought, loving him with all his heart. Even if you're an alien. Even if you turn crazy and evil. I love you, Mox. More than you'll ever know. I love you.

Moxxie squeaked as he was wrapped into a blanket burrito. But he did not struggle, by now trusting Blitzo only meant to help. Blinking widely and listening to Blitz's suggestion about resting and getting his mind off of ruminating, slowly his face broke into a cautious, bashful smile. Something about hearing that he would still be accepted even if he was an alien comforted him. It was an outlandish fear, he knew. But other things were not. He could become sick. He could be injured. A whole number of things could happen that would upset the balance of what made him the Moxxie that people knew and loved. So having this reassurance? That was nice.

"Yeah, I...uh. Probably could use some sleep, ha ha. I think I might have hyper focused on some...existential horrors..." he let Blitzo bite his horn, giggling. The reassurance that Blitzo would fight aliens that tried to take Moxxie away got the smaller imp's tail swishing, the only part of him that was not wrapped up in the blanket. "I'm sure if anyone would make them give up, it would be you, sir. "Thank you."

That had Blitz laughing, despite the momentary pause at how Fizz pushed him down. Fuck, his friend was hot. Blitz was trying, really fucking trying these days, not to notice how attractive his friend was, but sometimes? Sometimes, that shit was just difficult. Fizz had that magical quality, something warm and positive, that nobody could emulate, and that could never just be taken.

Admiring him, Blitz smiled when Fizz kicked his feet in the air. It was good to be friends, he thought. Because no matter how hot Fizzarolli might be? Being his friend felt like the best damn thing in the world. Blitz didn't want anything more from him. It was fun to be with him, fun with they flirted without meaning a thing--and sure, maybe it wasn't fun to come here after a party like Verosika's, but so what? Fizz had become the sun and melted his tears away, it seemed.

"Come on," he said, smirking and getting his phone out, as they talked about stolen sex toys. "This is Hell. You're telling me there's not a market for used sex toys? I bet..." A bit of Voogling, and then he found it. "Ha! There it is. Black market used sex toy pop-up sale, by invitation only. Apparently, you have to go through some kind of poker game to get an invite... whaddya think? Should we--ewwwuh, it says guaranteed not washed. That's... you know, I'm open to a lot of shit, and even I think that's disgusting.

"Wanna go to the used toy market, see if we spot any of your missing inventory? Might be a way to get a lead on who your thieves are."

" Life fucking sucks sometimes " Fizz added with a chuckle " But hey, it makes one stronger doesn't it " Fizz wasn't sure what Blitzo had been through. Only having a vague Idea. Ultimately, both were left alone eventually, left to fend for themself. All because of a lie.

"Nah, only if I want to " partly teasing, partly true. If you're his friend? Yeah sure. To most sane fans too. But it is not the same as when he was young - he wouldn't just give this luxury to everyone anymore.

Fizz had one arm curled around Blitz, stroking his back, the other hand patted the other Imp's head before his hand slows want to stroke his horns. " No need to apologize, pal "If anything, Fizz was glad Blitz still felt so comfortable around him. Blitzo always tried to be the strong one, even when they were younger - Fizz doubted Blitzo changed much in that aspect.

A grin came across the jester face, before starting to push Blitzo down on the couch, laying down next to him. Kicking his feet into the air. " haha ! Sure sounds like an idea! But it honestly the standard shit you get in most stores here, not even the luxury shit." there was a shrug " Not like its much of a lose " it was, just not for Ozzie and FIzz to worry much about " not like we can sell it anymore even if we get it back "

"It's just funny to think about someone who was this desperate to get released" he chuckled.