It was late by the time they came out of the movie cinema, "Thanks for taking me to see the phantom of the opera twice." Says Blitzo, his tail wrapping around Striker's waist as they walked down the long stretch of Street.
"My pleasure, Blitz," replies Striker. "And then sitting through a double feature of Dances with wolves and spirit," Blitzo laughs sheepishly.
"That's the idea, sugar-cube, to get your mind off your work and find out what's really bothering ya." You haven't been yourself lately," Says Striker coiling his tail around Blitzo's waist. "And, that's my job." Striker reminds him. "We'll grab dinner here, and then I have something special planned for tonight. "A surprise I've kept hidden for such an occasion."
"I don't know what to say," Says Blitzo. "except that I'm starving!"
"Do you hear that?' Asked Agent 2 to Agent 1. they were on their way to deliver the news. Agent two peers over the brush "Look, agent 1, isn't that the imp that we kidnapped weeks ago?"
Agent 1 peered through the thick brush, " Who is that with him, and where the hell is that owl demon? think we could take them agent 2?'
"Either way I don't like this, were too exposed here, keep quiet unless you want them to hear us."
"what if we kidnap him again, make him suffer.' suggested the Agent adjusting her glasses. " This might be the only chance that we get," she whispers.
Just then, Striker turns his head slowly, A sadistic gleam in his eyes and a sly grin creeping its way across his face. His ears burned upon hearing their hushed voices discussing the kidnapping of his husband. As a feral growl creeps up his throat hissing its way through serrated teeth at the mere mentions of that pompous blue-blooded prince.
Blitz pauses a shovel of spaghetti halfway to his mouth. He puts down the fork and reaches for his flintlock. Heart pounding, a look of fear in his eyes. Blitzo was not going back. He barely escaped that place at all.
The Cowboy could see the panic in his husband's eyes as he placed his hand on Blitzo's thigh to set his mind at ease.
"I got this sugar," he says, squeezing his leg. I want ya to stay here." Striker stands, his pale yellow eyes swirling with insanity and blood-lust. His hand itching for a weapon.
His spur jingle as he strides over to the crouching pair, who peer up in horror as the imp towers over them, a menacing look in his eyes. Disappearing into the shadows, with nothing but the sound of eerie fizzing of a rattlesnake.
"What did ya, simpletons say, bout kidnapping MY- mate," growled a voice right behind them. As A blood-red knife twirls in his hand.
Agent 1 shoots Agent 2 a chastising look before answering the hybrid, "We didn't know he was yours. We're enthusiasts, my partner and I, we want to learn more about you and your kind."
" My partner and I are into extensive footages, we want to know everything their is to know about the supernatural world" " Like is it mating season where you come from?" Agent 1. begins to panic when neither Striker nor Blitzo answers him.
"We thought he might've belonged to that large and domineering demonic owl that broke into our headquarters and possessed agent 2, the way they kissed they seemed like an item."
"We wouldn't mind taking him back so we can extend our research, maybe dissect him." She says, before backtracking, catching the gleam of the blade. "we're on your side, Cowboy."
Blitzo watches from the table before coming up behind Striker, his tail winding around Striker's waist: like a worn belt. The Outlaw could feel Blitzo tremble as he wrapped his arm around Striker.
"Don't listen to them Striker, they subjected Moxie and me to some airborne truth Serum. We were made to suffer through horrific hallucinations, that shit still bothers me," Blitzo admitted.
"We were tied to chairs and were left tripping with honesty, Blitzo whispers, eyes focusing on his boots. Wrapping his arms around himself while refusing to meet Striker's searching gaze.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it sooner, I think I just wanted to forget."
Blitzo's voice trembles as he speaks, his voice cracking with pain at the unpleasant recollection. "you tried the solo act it didn't work out so well, BlitzO Cackles Fizzorolli. " Yet you shove away anyone who gets too close until they resent you, you self shit." Verosika's voice echoes in his head.
" you don't want to do anything alone, BlitzO. I should've been there when they broke ya. Maybe I could get a little piece for myself. " Striker snarls, dragging Blitzo through the mud. " are you afraid to love people Blitzy? , You're going to die alone curled up inside a dumpster where you belong." Stolas hoots, wrapping the golden chain around his hand forcing Blitzo to ascend. "you are nothing more than a plaything, my little imp,
Blitzo's eyes are wide and unseeing, forced to relive those severe hallucinations. Striker's eyes dart wildly between the two agents and his trembling mate. Blitz fell onto his knees, clutching his ears, his claws digging into concrete.
"I awoke on a muddy plain; Fizzorolli was there, so was Verosika and Stolas, and you were there too, Striker" Blitz took a shuddering breath, I know I'm a failure and let everyone down, that one day I'll just die, and no one will care."
Agent 1 shrieked as the snake imp plunged the blade deep into his eye. He stumbles around blindly and in excruciating pain, clutching the hilt of the hell knife. He falls to his knees, aiming his shaking gun at Blitz, a weapon filled with tranquilizers.
Agent 2 rushes over to him, shielding him from the irate snake. "Will be taking him with us a live specimen is worth more than these frivolous tapes. Agent 2 laughed.
Blitzo tightens his grip on his mate's waist, forgetting about his flintlock tucked safely away inside his vest. "I-I don't want to die alone, I want to leave something behind, something to be remembered I don't want to be forgotten, if it wasn't for Stolas I'd be in a lab somewhere."
Striker hissed at Stolas's name as he shielded his mate from agent 1, that asinine owl again, Stella wanted him dead, and Striker was readily willing to oblige the harpy in the conspiring against his death.
He hated that fucking bird; his hatred and ire spilled over, intensifying as a clawed hand shot out, gripping Agent 2 by the shoulder blade.
"Drop the gun, or I rip off her arms," Striker growls. Digging his claws into her flesh. Ripping his nails down her arms and flaying her skin open.
White-hot rage blinded him, bone cracked and splintered, a piercing scream filled the night as the Agent dropped his weapon in favor of his partner.
"You have what you want, release her you fucking monster" Striker just gave him a scathing look. He had been called worse by his own ilk, who raked him over the coals for being different. Agent 1 continued to struggle with the hell-knife embedded into his eye socket, screaming as searing pain erupted behind his eye. His one good eye focused on agent 2, who was sprawled out on the concrete bleeding out.
" you can't escape us, red devil, she says, gargling on her own blood, will see what makes you tick yet."
Blitz shudders as he watches them writhing on the floor. Both in substantial pain, their bodies twisting in agony. "Serves you right for interrupting my date. Night" Blitzo growls. While Striker's hands tremble with rage as he envisions eviscerating them, here and now with nothing but his bare hands.
His husband had felt pain. His Blitz had undergone unspeakable tortures at the hands of these amateurs. It took him weeks to coax Blitzo out of his shell, another month before he got him to agree to go on a date night with him.
These assholes dare continue their pursuit of his chosen mate, then they'd be doomed to end up in body bags of their own
And these fucking agents dare mention Stolas to him. The prince would get what was coming to him in due time. Blitzo's tail tightens around Striker; stroking Striker's ass. Striker looks at him with an upraised eyebrow. this simple notion seemed to simmer him down. "At least Blitz is alive, and I'd be damned if I let anything happen to him," he thought.
He was skilled with his hands, taking pride in many things. His voice was soft and reassuring. If this whole assassination went bust, he still had his singing career to fall back on.
The candied-apple red imp was his, and his alone. "I can still savage the night if we leave now," he reminded himself.
The Moon was bright, and these mind-numbing heathens, who were hell-bent on stealing what was his, were making him late for their special evening together.
"Agent 2, hang in there!" shouted agent 1. Seeing as the snake imp was too caught up in his bloodthirst to notice him. "I'm coming; just hang in there."
He looks up as Blitz kicks him in the ribs, repeatedly with his steal-tipped-snake-skin boots.
Blitzo looked up into Striker's blown-up eyes; A bloodstained claw was outstretched towards him. The Cowboy was breathing heavily as he pried his nails out of the Agent's limp body. Before reaching down gripping both agents by the lapels of their jacket, his eyes flash wild with animosity, his voice rough and ragged, filled with barely kempt rage and hostility as he spoke.
"If I find out that you've been sniffing around my mate again. If I smell a thread of your mortal stench on my husband or his friends again, I'm putting a blessed bullet into each of your brains" do I make myself clear!" Striker hisses.
"Blitz is mine, not the property of some owl, I'll be watching you, his tail rattles- in the darkness where you can't see me, I' ll follow you into your dreams where you can hide from me."
"And finely, If you have to fear someone, fear me cause the next time we meet, and there will be A next time if you don't adhere to my threats, my Blitzy won't be able to stop me, and you can't talk you way out of this.
"For the next time we meet my Triger finger well be poised and I'll be aiming my guns at your heads."
His tail rattles as he pulls Blitzo by their joined tails into a heated kiss, Blitzo's tail curled into a heart. Blitzo moans into the kiss as electricity bursts around them, shorting out numerous light poles and city blocks. The electricity crackled and fizzed as Striker intertwined his hands with Blitzo's just as they were about to leave, just as Agent 2 crawled her way up to her knees. She aims her gun at Blitzo's back.
The Gunshot was deflected by Striker's knife as Blitzo pulled out his flintlock aiming it at the Agent.
"Can't you stupid humans just leave me the fuck alone!" he shouts. "This is from my psychiatrist; oh boy, is she going to be pissed at you for setting her back three, fuckin, fuck-tac-ular- years of intense sessions.
"I'm billing you people by the way, and any medical bills that I may occur, for this shit-tac-ular night!"
Striker felt a sharp pang slice his way into his chest, he knew- it wasn't all his fault that this night had gone to shit-creek.
The Outlaw knew he working against his mate's wishes, setting things up for Stolas's fall from power. Striker growls as his hand grips Blitz. They had wasted too much time here.
The snake-cowboy didn't know what was worse, letting these two fucks live or having to say thank you to the worm-dick-prince, Stolas.
