"Damn Right. Nobody Gets To Take You Away From Me An' Millie. And Hey, I'll Just Be The Warm-up Act Anyway.

"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."

Well, shit. Being immediately confronted by a sexy stable-hand with a sword wasn't exactly the welcome Blitz was hoping for to this world, but he could work with it. He took the man in at a glance--okay, two glances, there was a lot to like there--as he stepped out from around a corner.

"Oh, you know. Just your worst nightmare," he growled, a grin spreading across his face, absurdly sharp teeth glittering--but when a horse leaned over and lipped at one of his horns, Blitz lost all of his bullshit attitude and completely, completely forgot about the handsome man he could have had a wonderfully homoerotic fight with. Because this! This was a real horse! An actual horse! Not a fire-breathing, flesh-eating, razor-claw-having Hellsteed, but a horse-horse! Eyes lighting up, he turned to start petting the creature, making happy little sounds as it snuffled right back.

Wait. Guy. Asshole, don't forget about the guy, Blitz thought, while cooing at the horse about how beautiful and perfect it was, and what a good doggy, and did it know it had the best hooves in all the world? Trailing off, he looked over his shoulder at the human again, then sighed and stopped petting the horse.

Holding his hands more or less up, Blitz walked closer. "Don't worry. I'm not here for you. I mean, maybe I am, you match the description, but not the location. So just put down the sword, nice and easy--unless you wanna do some gay shit, which I mean, I'm always here for that--and relax. I'm looking for Caleb. He broke some woman's heart, hurt her so badly that she's given up on hope. And that's what got me called in." He had been hired by the Duke of Loss, a powerful Ars Goetia, who had felt the wife's heartache across the multiverse and been moved by it, but that seemed like more information than really needed to be shared right now.

"So, what's it gonna be, Sexy Claws? You gonna get in my way? Or you gonna tell me where that fucker is so I can kill him and get outta here?"

Hans was snoring on the stables when he heard some noise in the nearby bushes, he came out, hand on the hilt of his sword "Halt!" he commands

"Who's there?" He looked bedraggled, after a year of working as a stable boy he had aged two, he went from prince charming to prince charmingly rugged. Full beard, fuller arms, more toned chest, and shorter temper.

He thought this was another of his brother's jokes and was ready to retaliate.

@doublejango

DJ just leaving this to let you know you are incredible

sshhhh, come here, i love you friend. mine now <3

Does Blitzø prefer to be the big spoon or the little spoon?

The big spoon, always the big spoon. Given how pokey he is, it's the safest for whoever he is sleeping with, because he's less likely to accidentally hurt them that way. With spines on his head, horns that absolutely could be a deadly weapon if he needed them to, or if he just forgets and fucks up with the tip of a horn in a dangerous spot like against someone's throat, and spines on his shoulders that he prefers don't get squished or pressed on? He's hard to cuddle from behind.

That being said, he really does enjoy it when someone manages to get comfortable behind him and he trusts them. But given how rarely that happens? Blitz prefers to be the big spoon. He likes to hold his lovers close and listen to them breathing, listen to their hearts. He likes to know, really know that they are safe, and the only way to be sure of that? Is if they're in his arms, where no one can get to them without him knowing, where the world will never be able to sneak in and steal them away.

....Blitz is fine and absolutely not terrified of losing people, what do you mean?

It feels like a shameful, selfish thing to want, but goddamn does Blitz crave that anyway. He will fight for the people he loves, he will fight for fun, he will fight for himself. He'll absolutely refuse to remember his own safety if one of his family is on the line. Fighting is safety for him. As long as he can fight, the world isn't so terrible. So when he can't? Snuggle him. Snuggle him, and teach him that maybe, once in a while, he doesn't have to fight to be loved.

All of that being said... if he's exhausted, like genuinely exhausted, dehydrated, and in all around poor condition, the spines between his shoulders will flop more easily to the side without hurting him so much. They're the only ones that aren't deeply anchored in his muscle or to bone (their structure is very different and they have a huge blood supply, and quite a few nerves especially around the base), and so at times when they're limp, he would love to be the little spoon. To just be held for a while, when he can't be the one to do the holding?

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.