Summary: Sweet ol' revenge against a certain cowboy assassin, Striker, dished up by two former clowns, Blitzø and Fizzarolli ;3
A/N: This is a SFW Helluva Boss tickle fic, if you don't like that, pls DNI! Otherwise, enjoy this extremely late fic that is a collab with @eclipse-rosewood :D
Some say that singing a whole ‘fuck you’ song to your boss and then quitting your job while saying goodbye in a surprisingly good impression of your boss' accent might not be the best thing for one's mental health. But why should Fizzarolli care? He's thriving in Hell with his huge boyfriend and rekindled childhood friend, for fuck's sake.
Anyway, since the whole thing with Mammon, Fizzarolli had a bit of a thirst for more revenge gnawing at the back of his mind, thinking about all of his and Blitzø's shared enemies, and how much he'd like to see them bleed. Of course, when he told Blitzø about this vengeful fantasy of his, the other imp was more than enthused about getting some sweet, sweet payback. After all, Blitzø's company had been a bit short of the thrill of homicide lately, anyway.
So it was settled, the two imps would meet up at a bar and discuss the finer details.
- Lil’ time skip -
“Hmm…but which one do you think deserves to be hunted first? Striker, or Crimson?” Fizz asked, taking a sip from the straw in his glass of Beelzejuice. “Well, Crimson may be a bit off limits anyway, Mox probably wouldn't want his big daddy to get hurt unless it was by his doing.” Answered Blitzø, absentmindedly tracing one of his fingers along the cracks in the wooden bar counter top.
So that just left Striker… ”But, that western cocksucker is most likely the only thing stopping Stella from killing Stolas herself. Plus, I promised Loony that I wouldn't kill anyone today because it’s her birthday.” He continued, going silent for a while, just in case Fizz was brainstorming and didn't want to be interrupted. And apparently, he was.
“..Wait, he's super self-confident. Which means, all we have to do is exploit a weakness that's embarrassing enough to catch him off guard, and threaten to blackmail him with it. Right?” It wasn't a terrible idea. But, what the hell kind of a weakness would have such an effect on a guy like Striker?
Contemplating his inquiry, Blitzø skimmed through his memories with Fizz, trying to pinpoint any specific events that involved embarrassing weaknesses that an imp would have.. and wouldn't you know it, the murderous imp finally came up with a reasonable suggestion.
“Ey, Fizz, remember when we'd have those stupid dares where we'd take turns in watching each other perform, and then point out any flaws afterwards by uh... tickling the other person in a way that accommodates to those flaws?” Blitzø commented, smiling slightly at the fond memory, but a little flustered about the topic as he was usually the more flawed one when performing. Thankfully though, the other imp only really picked up on the main idea that he was putting down, a wry smirk now building up on his face at the thought of using this against Striker.
“It's perfect! We won't hurt Striker, but if we record him being humiliated like that, we could threaten him with the blackmail of posting the video!” Fizz replied cheerfully, slamming down a $10 bill on the counter before gripping Blitzø's arm and yanking him out of the bar. Fizz dragged him eagerly all the way down to the Wrath ring, ignoring the whiny protests that spewed from his friend's mouth like gunfire and instead focusing on tracking down Striker, while keeping his phone safe so that they can record the whole ordeal when it happens.
Sure enough, the two eventually stumbled into the weird cavern that Striker called his home, making sure to keep quiet as they leapt behind the nearest boulder. Breathing out groans of pain between whistling a casual tune, the cowboy in question was currently standing near the unrealistic statue of himself and cleaning up his burn wounds from when he tried (and failed) to kill Fizz.
“Hey, you think you can do that introduction thing that Robo Fizz did? It might be fun.” Blitzø whispered to his friend, who, in response, nodded and took a deep but silent breath.
“Hiya kids, it's me, the lovable Fizzarolli!” Fizz started, jumping up onto the boulder they were hiding behind and watching as his voice startled Striker a little.
“Say, would anyone here like to play a game with me?! It'll be so fun, I can guarantee it!” While the cowboy demon scowled and reached for his angelic gun, Blitzø shot a bullet of his own towards said gun, making it inaccessible as the two former clowns suddenly launched at him.
It took quite a hassle, but eventually they managed to pin Striker to the same part of the train tracks that Stolas had been restrained against a while ago. They then tied his arms down either side of his head with his own angelic rope, doing the same for his legs and tail. “You two fuckass clowns ain't gettin’ away with this. I will get my vengeance, just you little fellas wait..” Striker sneered, allowing a brief dark chuckle to seep through his teeth afterwards. To which Fizz and Blitzø both looked at each other with unbothered expressions.
Setting up his phone on a nearby rock, Fizz pressed the ‘record’ button and instantly began speaking like the whole thing was a vlog.
“Hey there, all you imps, sinners, overlords and deadly sins! Today, we have a very western guest with us. Say hi, Striker!” Fizz announced, moving out of the way so that the recording showed a clear view of the cowboy, bound helplessly to abandoned train tracks and frowning spitefully all the while.
“Go fuck yourself.” Was the only thing that Striker planned to say for most of this. Unfortunately, things never seem to go according to plan for him. “Only off camera. Now let's get down to business, shall we?” Blitzø responded, smiling along with the other clown imp.
“You're a selfish bitch that only cares about money. Understandable, however, fucking up my only ticket to the human world and then also trying to kill my friend, that's not as excusable. So, we're gonna return your ‘favour’ by humiliating you and then blackmailing you with the recording of it. Sound good? Good!”
Before Striker had gotten a chance to respond, Fizz had started talking again, reverting back to his show voice for this next part.
“Earlier I asked if you wanna play a game. And now, we're gonna play whether you like it or not! The game is called.. 'Don't Laugh’~!” Upon saying the name of the game, Fizz lifted his robot arms up to shoulder height and bent his fingers into claws, wiggling them simultaneously to give a hint as to what was about to happen, with a shit-eating grin on his face the whole time.
The cowboy tensed, it was subtle but it was noticed, now slightly struggling against his binds as the reality of this ‘game’ began to fully sink in. “Oh you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me..” Striker murmured, feeling a few butterflies swarm in his stomach, something that had rarely ever occurred before. He despised the way the sensation affected him, making his body twitch in anticipation whenever someone made even the smallest movement, making him feel vulnerable, making him feel weak.
“Tch, and what kinda sick pleasure will it bring ya this time? Y'know, since everythin’ appears to be a sex thing with you two.” He remarked with a tiny smirk, clearly aiming to piss them off some more, despite his better judgment and the fact that it was just going to make everything worse for him.
Dammit, even those weird ass mini singing imps were here to watch.
His attention was yanked away, however, as Blitzø's hand then reached out towards him, and he tensed up once more, instinctively sucking his stomach in. But, the imp merely grabbed the cowboy's hat and placed it on his own head, earning a ‘seriously?’ look from both of the other demons, and an extra eye roll from Striker, who was getting fed up with this. But then Fizz's voice sounded out again, still speaking as if the whole thing was a scripted performance. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it's time for the game to start! Alright cowboy, are you ready?!”
“Listen, I don’ know what you jester twinks are plannin’ to accomplish with this, but I can assure ya, you ain’t gon’ pull a stunt like this again once I get my reve-HENGE!!” Striker's threat was abruptly cut off by the overwhelming sensation of a robotic hand squeezing his side experimentally, his voice raising up to a slightly embarrassing high pitched tone as this happened.
The cowboy attempted to recover by clearing his throat and forcing back the anticipatory nervous smile, refusing to let his captors feel like they were winning. Said captors, however, now adorned ear-splitting smirks that caused the butterflies in Striker's stomach to temporarily double, a few more harsh tugs being acted out on the angelic restraints. “I said ‘are you ready?’, not ‘bore us with monologue’. But still, at least people on Sinstagram will enjoy the bickering. But seriously, don't laugh!” Fizz replied smugly, refocusing his attention on the imp's outfit.
There were a few scorch marks on his shirt that didn't burn through the fabric, so of course, Fizz decided to fuck around a bit and trace ever so gently over those marks, relishing in the way it made Striker flinch and gasp quietly. Yet, his resolve held true, the scowl on the cowboy's face didn't budge, but nor did the angelic rope, unfortunately for him.
“Alright it's my turn, move over bitch!” Blitzø demanded, playfully shoving his friend out of the way and cracking his knuckles, before starting to spider his fingers along Striker's sides. This time, it resulted in a wobbly grin showing through for just over a millisecond, the ticklish sensation making Striker wriggle away from the pursuing hands with a bit of desperation.
- Everything from here is @eclipse-rosewood, though proofread and partially edited by me :3
Blitzø and Fizz lit up upon seeing their nemesis begin to crumble, practically igniting Striker's ticklish nerves as he glared back. Fizz rubbed his hands together and started to poke at Striker’s ribs, earning delightful twitches and flinches from the cowboy. “Y-y’all are just wasting everyone’s time, enough of this idiotic game!“
The mariachi band was watching from an elevated part of the train track, slightly amused at the event and not expecting Striker to even be vulnerable to something like this. Striker was certain they would come up with some kind of song for this, which aggravated him more.
"Oh come on don’t be like that, we saw that smile mister! Let’s see if we can get another one.” Fizz offered a squeeze at Striker's ribs to accompany his words, and then started to trace over each rib. Striker growled and attempted to nip at him, but Fizz pulled back. “Ah, ah, ah. No biting!“
Striker snarled, getting increasingly annoyed with the whole situation. "The minute I get free, I’ll rip yer fucking heads off and shove 'em down yer-” He yelped suddenly as Blitzø scribbled all over his stomach, clenching his jagged teeth to hold back a laugh from having one particularly weak spot exposed. Small snickers slipped out into the air. Both of the two tormentors noticed, just waiting for Striker to break. Eventually, the sensation was too much to bear, and Striker burst out in laughter.
”Hahahahaha!! I’ll kill yohohou!! You clown pieces of shihit!! Hahahahaha!!” Striker yanked and tossed around as much as he could, trying fruitlessly to escape this humiliation. But the ropes were too tight, and he could only pull away by an inch.
“Well well, looks like we got him folks, even the big bad Striker couldn’t win a silly challenge!" Fizz exclaimed towards the camera, laughing from pure enjoyment of the payback. Fizz then took over in place of Blitzø and grinned as he had an idea. From the sleeve of his jester outfit, he pulled out a colourful feather and blithely removed Striker's boots. "Let’s see how you handle feathers, little assassin."
Before Striker could respond, Fizz ran the feather up and down both hooves, earning another, much more panicked yelp as the feather traced across them.
“Hahahahaha! St-aha! Stohop it already!Ya stuhupid jerk, lemme goho! Hahaha!” Fizz ignored him and continued, however Blitzø looked over just in time to see Striker managing to free his tail. The cowboy was about to wrap it around Fizz’s neck and choke him, but Blitzø quickly grabbed it.
“Yeah nice try dipshit, but not good enough.“ Blitzø was then handed another feather by a grateful Fizz, and he wasted no time in tracing it along Striker’s tail spikes, causing their victim's laughter to raise as another bad spot was found. “Wai- hahahahaha!! Noho! Not thehehe tail! Stahahahap pl-ehehehahaha!”
After what Striker perceived as forever, the two gradually stopped, leaving Striker panting from exhaustion while the two grinned victoriously. "Well folks there you have it, thanks for joining us in this spectacle and our fun game of 'Don’t Laugh'. See you all next time!”
The camera was shut off and they both turned to Striker, who was just about ready to rip them apart. “Fine, y’all have had yer fun. Now free me so I can kick yer fairy asses!!"
Fizz merely tsked at him, waving his finger of disapproval. "Remember we got this all on film! And if you don’t start behavin', we will show it off to everyone!"
Blitzø joined in, smirking widely. "This is payback for kidnapping us and for trying to kill my friends... and Stolas. So don’t try anything funny, or else I’m pretty sure nobody will hire you once they see this.” Striker fought at his bindings, practically foaming at the mouth in anger. Blitzø smirked.
“Well it’s been fun, bye biiitch!“ With that, Fizz grabbed blitz and, using his mechanical legs, sprung them out of the hideout, both laughing as they left behind an infuriated Striker. After a while, he managed to reach out and grab a broken shard of glass to loosen the angelic binds around himself. “Damn it all… those clowns are gonna fuckin' pay! I’ll get that stupid phone, break it in two and shove either piece down their gullets before I tear them apart!” He stormed off, ignoring the small mariachi imps who had been observing the whole time.
Striker from helluva boss secretly super ticklish 😜
⌖🐎Striker Tkl Headcanons🥃
~Ooooh absolutely! I love it when the strong, stoic character is a walking tickle-spot. Totally not using this as an excuse to torment the cowboy whaaaaat (* °ヮ° *). No but I’ve been wanting to write more for HB, so maybe this’ll be my gateway excuse. I promise I’m working on stuff, I’m just slow. Thanks for the request!~
General:
On the surface, seems to hate tickling
Changes the subject, brushes off questions, rattles his tail when people get too pushy with things.
You wear him down enough, though, and you’ll see. Wide smiles, small blushes and a flicking tail.
He’s more of a ler than anything, though there is the off chance he’ll get a lee mood.
Considering this, we’ll say heavy ler-leaning switch.
Lee:
Rarer than anything, but he does occasionally crave a good wrecking.
He’s in massive denial the entire time, refusing to admit it to himself, much less ask someone
If anyone does notice, he’ll blush and start making death threats. Get ready for a chase (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)
MASSIVE thrasher. If you don’t pin/restrain him, he’s probably gonna end up breaking your nose.
His tail will flick around wildly, rattling the entire time. You wanna fluster him, that’s as good a thing to point out as any.
Worst spots are the backs of his ribs and tail, specifically the flat end of it. Hysterical, cackling shrieks if you nail him in either of those spots.
Melt spots are his arms/forearms. He loves gentle traces along them, maybe some compliments on his strength while you’re at it.
He cannot handle teases. You call him cute? Sputtering, blushing mess of curses. He’ll vow to kill your family while laughing and giggling like a toddler.
Just be careful. He recovers pretty quickly, and you know he’ll be out for revenge~ (•̀⩊•́)
Ler:
Run for your life, my friends (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
Rough, ruthless ler. Likes to leave his lee a teary, incoherent puddle when he’s done.
SO SO MEAN and teasy. Will use anything at his disposal to fluster the hell out of you.
“Yer tellin’ me that just a few pokes makes you laugh this hard? That’s adorable, darlin’~”
“What? Oh, that word makes it worse? Sayin’ tickle makes it all tickle even more? That’s adorable~”
“That really tickles, don’t it? My claws diggin’ into your worst spot, and you can’t do a damn thing to stop me~”
He doesn’t like to stop the first time you tell him to.
If you seriously can’t take it anymore, he’ll stop. Other than that, good luck breathing.
Takes any and every opportunity to wreck a bitch. Stiff interrogation? You bet. Someone he’s close to being annoying? They’d better have good lung capacities.
If you’re comfortable with it, he’s absolutely willing to use his rope skills. Only if the lee is 100% okay with it, though. He respects consent, in that case.
Uses his tail to help him out. The tip is awfully pokey and would be great as a tickle tool.
When he does decide to stop, he’s not super good at aftercare. He’ll definitely bring you some water, but doesn’t do much else.
If you ask, though, he gives a wonderful back rub. Maybe even some extra attention if you’re really insistent with it.
Ler: Striker is not the kind of imp to partake in tickle fights very often, but he can be and absolutely is an EVIL Ler. I Can see him using it as a kind of interrogation tactic when he’s doing his job. If you’re dating him, it’s an entirely different story. He will often tickle those closest to him. he definitely uses his claws and tail to his advantage!
Lee: Striker isn’t as sensitive as others, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a few chuckles out of him from time to time! His laugh is very gruff, and mostly consists of wheezing and snickering. His notable tickle spots are under his knees, lower ribs, and the base of his horns. Rough tickles can get him laughing, while light tickles make him shiver.
Some say that singing a whole ‘fuck you’ song to your boss and then quitting your job while saying goodbye in a surprisingly good impression of your boss's accent might not be the best thing for one's mental health. But why should Fizzarolli care? He's thriving in Hell with his huge boyfriend and rekindled childhood friend, for fuck's sake.
Anyway, since the whole thing with Mammon, Fizzarolli had a bit of a thirst for more revenge gnawing at the back of his mind, thinking about all of his and Blitzø's shared enemies, and how much he'd like to see them bleed. Of course, when he told Blitzø about this vengeful fantasy of his, the other imp was more than enthused about getting some sweet, sweet payback. After all, Blitzø's company had been a bit short of the thrill of homicide lately, anyway.
So it was settled, the two imps would meet up at a bar and discuss the finer details.
-Lil’ time skip-
“Hmm…but which one do you think deserves to be hunted first? Striker, or Crimson?” Fizz asked, taking a sip from the straw in his glass of Beelzejuice. “Well, Crimson may be a bit off limits anyway, Mox probably wouldn't want his big daddy to get hurt unless it was by his doing.” Answered Blitzø, absentmindedly tracing one of his fingers along the cracks in the wooden bar counter top.
So that just left Striker…”But, that western cocksucker is most likely the only thing stopping Stella from killing Stolas herself. Plus, I promised Loony that I wouldn't kill anyone today because it’s her birthday.” He continued, going silent for a while, just in case Fizz was brainstorming and didn't want to be interrupted. And apparently, he was.
“..Wait, he's super self-confident. Which means, all we have to do is exploit a weakness that's embarrassing enough to catch him off guard, and threaten to blackmail him with it. Right?” It wasn't a terrible idea. But, what the hell kind of a weakness would have such an effect on a guy like Striker?
Contemplating his inquiry, Blitzø skimmed through his memories with Fizz, trying to pinpoint any specific events that involved embarrassing weaknesses that an imp would have..and wouldn't you know it, the murderous imp finally came up with a reasonable suggestion.
“Ey, Fizz, remember when we'd have those stupid dares where we'd take turns in watching each other perform, and then point out any flaws afterwards by..tickling the other person in a way that accommodates to those flaws?” Blitzø commented, smiling slightly at the fond memory, but a little flustered about the topic as he was usually the more flawed one when performing. Thankfully though, the other imp only really picked up on the main idea that he was putting down, a wry smirk now building up on his face at the thought of using this against Striker.
“It's perfect! We won't hurt Striker, but if we record him being humiliated like that, we could threaten him with the blackmail of posting the video!” Fizz replied cheerfully, slamming down a $10 bill on the counter before gripping Blitzø's arm and yanking him out of the bar. Fizz dragged him eagerly all the way down to the Wrath ring, ignoring the whiny protests that spewed from his friend's mouth like gunfire and instead focusing on tracking down Striker, while keeping his phone safe so that they can record the whole ordeal when it happens.
Sure enough, the two eventually stumbled into the weird cavern that Striker called his home, making sure to keep quiet as they leapt behind the nearest boulder. Breathing out groans of pain between whistling a casual tune, the cowboy in question was currently standing near the unrealistic statue of himself and cleaning up his burn wounds from when he tried (and failed) to kill Fizz.
“Hey, you think you can do that introduction thing that Robo Fizz did? It might be fun.” Blitzø whispered to his friend, who, in response, nodded and took a deep but silent breath.
“Hiya kids, it's me, the lovable Fizzarolli!” Fizz started, jumping up onto the boulder they were hiding behind and watching as his voice startled Striker a little.
“Say, would anyone here like to play a game with me?! It'll be so fun, I can guarantee it!” While the cowboy demon scowled and reached for his angelic gun, Blitzø shot a bullet of his own towards said gun, making it inaccessible as the two former clowns suddenly launched at him.
It took quite a hassle, but eventually they managed to pin Striker to the same part of the train tracks that Stolas had been restrained against a while ago. They then tied his arms down either side of his head with his own angelic rope, doing the same for his legs and tail. “You two fuckass clowns ain't gettin’ away with this. I will get my vengeance, just you little fellas wait..” Striker sneered, allowing a brief dark chuckle to sleep through his teeth afterwards. To which Fizz and Blitzø both looked at each other with unbothered expressions.
Setting up his phone on a nearby rock, Fizz pressed the ‘record’ button and began speaking like the whole thing was a vlog.
“Hey there, all you imps, sinners, overlords and deadly sins! Today, we have a very western guest with us. Say hi, Striker!” Fizz announced, moving out of the way so that the recording showed a clear view of the cowboy, bound helplessly to abandoned train tracks and frowning spitefully all the while.
“Go fuck yourself.” Was the only thing that Striker planned to say for most of this. Unfortunately, things never seem to go according to plan for him. “Only off camera. Now let's get down to business, shall we?” Blitzø responded, smiling along with the other clown imp.
“You're a selfish bitch that only cares about money. Understandable, however, fucking up my only ticket to the human world and then also trying to kill my friend, that's not as excusable. So, we're gonna return your ‘favour’ by humiliating you and then blackmailing you with the recording of it. Sound good? Good!”
Before Striker had gotten a chance to respond, Fizz had started talking again, reverting back to his show voice for this next part.
“Earlier I asked if you wanna play a game. And now, we're gonna play whether you like it or not! The game is called...’Don't Laugh’~!” Upon saying the name of the game, Fizz lifted his robot arms up to shoulder height and bent his fingers into claws, wiggling them simultaneously to give a hint as to what was about to happen, with a shit-eating grin on his face the whole time.
The cowboy tensed, it was subtle but it was noticed, now slightly struggling against his binds as the reality of this ‘game’ began to fully sink in. “Oh you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me..” Striker murmured, feeling a few butterflies swarm in his stomach, something that had rarely ever occurred before. He despised the way the sensation affected him, making his body twitch in anticipation whenever someone made even the smallest movement, making him feel vulnerable, making him feel weak.
“Tch, and what kinda sick pleasure will it bring ya this time? Y'know, since everythin’ appears to be a sex thing with you two.” He remarked with a tiny smirk, clearly aiming to piss them off some more, despite his better judgment and the fact that it was just going to make everything worse for him.
Dammit, even those weird ass mini singing imps were here to watch.
His attention was yanked away, however, as Blitzø's hand then reached out towards him, and he tensed up once more, instinctively sucking his stomach in. But, the imp merely grabbed the cowboy's hat and placed it on his own head, earning a ‘seriously?’ look from both of the other demons, and an extra eye roll from Striker, who was getting fed up with this. But then Fizz's voice sounded out again, still speaking as if the whole thing was a scripted performance. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it's time for the game to start! Alright cowboy, are you ready?!”
“Listen, I don’ know what you jester twinks are plannin’ to accomplish with this, but I can assure ya, you ain’t gon’ pull a stunt like this again once I get my reve-HENGE!!” Striker's threat was abruptly cut off by the overwhelming sensation of a robotic hand squeezing his side experimentally, his voice raising up to a slightly embarrassing high pitched tone as this happened.
The cowboy attempted to recover by clearing his throat and forcing back the anticipatory nervous smile, refusing to let his captors feel like they were winning. Said captors, however, now adorned ear-splitting smirks that caused the butterflies in Striker's stomach to temporarily double, a few more harsh tugs being acted out on the angelic restraints. “I said ‘are you ready?’, not ‘bore us with monologue’. But still, at least people on Sinstagram will enjoy the bickering. But seriously, don't laugh!” Fizz replied smugly, refocusing his attention on the imp's outfit.
There were a few scorch marks on his shirt that didn't burn through the fabric, so of course, Fizz decided to fuck around a bit and trace ever so gently over those marks, relishing in the way it made Striker flinch and gasp quietly. Yet, his resolve held true, the scowl on the cowboy's face didn't budge, but not did the angelic rope, unfortunately for him.
“Alright it's my turn, move over bitch!” Blitzø demanded, playfully shoving his friend out of the way and cracking his knuckles, before starting to spider his fingers along Striker's sides. This time, it resulted in a wobbly grin showing through for just over a millisecond, the ticklish sensation making Striker wriggle away from the pursuing hands with a bit of desperation.Blitz and fizz grinned upon seeing the wobbly grin much to striker’s nerves who glared back. Fizz rubbed his hands and started to poke at striker’s ribs earning twitches and flinches from the cowboy “y’all are just wasting everyone’s time enough of this idiotic game! “ the mariachi band was watching from an above train track Slightly amused
At the event not expecting striker to be vulnerable to something like this striker was certain they would come up with a song for this which aggravated him more.
“ oh come on don’t be like that we saw that smile Mr. Let’s see if we can get another one.” Fizz squeezed the ribs and started to trace over each rib striker growled and nipped at him but fizz pulled back . “ ah, ah,ah. No bitting “ Striker snarled getting annoyed with the whole situation.” The minute I get free I’ll rip your f*king heads off and shoved them down your_” he yelped as blitz scribbled all over his stomach clenching his teeth to hold back a laugh from having a weak spot tickled small snickers slipped both of the two tormentors noticed waiting for striker to break. The sensation was too much to bear and striker bursted out in laughter .” Hahahahaha!! I’ll kill you!! You clown pieces of sh**!! Hahahahaha!!” Striker pulled and tossed around as much as he could trying to escape this humiliating situation but the ropes where too tight an he could only lightly pull away. “ looks like we got him folks even big bad striker couldn’t win this challenge.” Fizz said towards the camera laughing enjoying the payback . “ fizz then took over and grinned as he had an idea he pulled out a feather and managed to pull off the boots . “ let’s see how you handle feathers cowboy” before striker could respond he ran the feather up and down the hooves earning another yelp as the feather traced on his bare hooves. “ hahahahaha! Stop it already! You stupid jerk! Let me go! Hahaha!” Fizz ignored him and continued blitz looked over and saw striker managing to free his tail and was about to wrap in around fizz’s neck to choke him but blitz quickly grabbed it . “ nice try pal but not good enough “ he then grabbed the other feather and traced it along his tail spike causing striker’s laughter to go up as another weak spot was found. “ hahahahaha!! No! Not the tail! Stahahahap!” After what seemed for ever the two eventually stopped leaving striker panting form exhaustion while the two grinned. “ well folks there you have it thanks for joining us on this episode and our fun game of don’t laugh see you next time!” The camera was shot off and the two turned to striker who was ready to rip them apart. “ fine y’all had yer fun now free me so I can kick yer a##!! Fizz just tsked at him waving his finger “ remember we got this all on film and if you don’t behave we will show it off to everyone .” Blitz joined in grinning wildly “ this is payback for kidnapping us and for trying to kill my friends and stolas so don’t try anything funny or else, I’m pretty sure nobody will hire you if they see this.” Striker fought at his bindings practically foaming at the mouth in anger . Blitz smirked “well it’s been fun bye b*tch! “ with that fizz grabbed blitz and using his Mecha legs sprung them out of the hideout both laughing as they left leaving an infuriated striker behind who managed to eventually grab a broken shard of glass to free himself. “ dang it all…..those clowns are gonna pay! I’ll get that stupid tape and shove it down their gullet and tear them apart.” He stormed off ignoring the small imps who had been watching the whole time .
Did I just waste 30 minutes creating this GIF? Yes, yes I did.
Was it worth it? Abso-f*cking-lutely, I love this ❤❤❤
Okay, so will you be posting this on ur blog and tagging me in it? Or would I be the one posting it and giving credits to u?/gen :P
Working on a lee!Striker, lers!Fizzarolli and Blitzø fic, so uh..lmk what you think so far 🫠
Just Clownin' Around (WIP)
------------------------------------------------
Some say that singing a whole ‘fuck you’ song to your boss and then quitting your job while saying goodbye in a surprisingly good impression of your boss's accent might not be the best thing for one's mental health. But why should Fizzarolli care? He's thriving in Hell with his huge boyfriend and rekindled childhood friend, for fuck's sake.
Anyway, since the whole thing with Mammon, Fizzarolli had a bit of a thirst for more revenge gnawing at the back of his mind, thinking about all of his and Blitzø's shared enemies, and how much he'd like to see them bleed. Of course, when he told Blitzø about this vengeful fantasy of his, the other imp was more than enthused about getting some sweet, sweet payback. After all, Blitzø's company had been a bit short of the thrill of homicide lately, anyway.
So it was settled, the two imps would meet up at a bar and discuss the finer details.
-Lil’ time skip-
“Hmm…but which one do you think deserves to be hunted first? Striker, or Crimson?” Fizz asked, taking a sip from the straw in his glass of Beelzejuice. “Well, Crimson may be a bit off limits anyway, Mox probably wouldn't want his big daddy to get hurt unless it was by his doing.” Answered Blitzø, absentmindedly tracing one of his fingers along the cracks in the wooden bar counter top.
So that just left Striker…”But, that western cocksucker is most likely the only thing stopping Stella from killing Stolas herself. Plus, I promised Loony that I wouldn't kill anyone today because it’s her birthday.” He continued, going silent for a while, just in case Fizz was brainstorming and didn't want to be interrupted. And apparently, he was.
“..Wait, he's super self-confident. Which means, all we have to do is exploit a weakness that's embarrassing enough to catch him off guard, and threaten to blackmail him with it. Right?” It wasn't a terrible idea. But, what the hell kind of a weakness would have such an effect on a guy like Striker?
Contemplating his inquiry, Blitzø skimmed through his memories with Fizz, trying to pinpoint any specific events that involved embarrassing weaknesses that an imp would have..and wouldn't you know it, the murderous imp finally came up with a reasonable suggestion.
“Ey, Fizz, remember when we'd have those stupid dares where we'd take turns in watching each other perform, and then point out any flaws afterwards by..tickling the other person in a way that accommodates to those flaws?” Blitzø commented, smiling slightly at the fond memory, but a little flustered about the topic as he was usually the more flawed one when performing. Thankfully though, the other imp only really picked up on the main idea that he was putting down, a wry smirk now building up on his face at the thought of using this against Striker.
“It's perfect! We won't hurt Striker, but if we record him being humiliated like that, we could threaten him with the blackmail of posting the video!” Fizz replied cheerfully, slamming down a $10 bill on the counter before gripping Blitzø's arm and yanking him out of the bar. Fizz dragged him eagerly all the way down to the Wrath ring, ignoring the whiny protests that spewed from his friend's mouth like gunfire and instead focusing on tracking down Striker, while keeping his phone safe so that they can record the whole ordeal when it happens.
Sure enough, the two eventually stumbled into the weird cavern that Striker called his home, making sure to keep quiet as they leapt behind the nearest boulder. Breathing out groans of pain between whistling a casual tune, the cowboy in question was currently standing near the unrealistic statue of himself and cleaning up his burn wounds from when he tried (and failed) to kill Fizz.
“Hey, you think you can do that introduction thing that Robo Fizz did? It might be fun.” Blitzø whispered to his friend, who, in response, nodded and took a deep but silent breath.
“Hiya kids, it's me, the lovable Fizzarolli!” Fizz started, jumping up onto the boulder they were hiding behind and watching as his voice startled Striker a little.
“Say, would anyone here like to play a game with me?! It'll be so fun, I can guarantee it!” While the cowboy demon scowled and reached for his angelic gun, Blitzø shot a bullet of his own towards said gun, making it inaccessible as the two former clowns suddenly launched at him.
It took quite a hassle, but eventually they managed to pin Striker to the same part of the train tracks that Stolas had been restrained against a while ago. They then tied his arms down either side of his head with his own angelic rope, doing the same for his legs and tail. “You two fuckass clowns ain't gettin’ away with this. I will get my vengeance, just you little fellas wait..” Striker sneered, allowing a brief dark chuckle to sleep through his teeth afterwards. To which Fizz and Blitzø both looked at each other with unbothered expressions.
Setting up his phone on a nearby rock, Fizz pressed the ‘record’ button and began speaking like the whole thing was a vlog.
“Hey there, all you imps, sinners, overlords and deadly sins! Today, we have a very western guest with us. Say hi, Striker!” Fizz announced, moving out of the way so that the recording showed a clear view of the cowboy, bound helplessly to abandoned train tracks and frowning spitefully all the while.
“Go fuck yourself.” Was the only thing that Striker planned to say for most of this. Unfortunately, things never seem to go according to plan for him. “Only off camera. Now let's get down to business, shall we?” Blitzø responded, smiling along with the other clown imp.
“You're a selfish bitch that only cares about money. Understandable, however, fucking up my only ticket to the human world and then also trying to kill my friend, that's not as excusable. So, we're gonna return your ‘favour’ by humiliating you and then blackmailing you with the recording of it. Sound good? Good!”
Before Striker had gotten a chance to respond, Fizz had started talking again, reverting back to his show voice for this next part.
“Earlier I asked if you wanna play a game. And now, we're gonna play whether you like it or not! The game is called...’Don't Laugh’~!” Upon saying the name of the game, Fizz lifted his robot arms up to shoulder height and bent his fingers into claws, wiggling them simultaneously to give a hint as to what was about to happen, with a shit-eating grin on his face the whole time.
The cowboy tensed, it was subtle but it was noticed, now slightly struggling against his binds as the reality of this ‘game’ began to fully sink in. “Oh you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me..” Striker murmured, feeling a few butterflies swarm in his stomach, something that had rarely ever occurred before. He despised the way the sensation affected him, making his body twitch in anticipation whenever someone made even the smallest movement, making him feel vulnerable, making him feel weak.
“Tch, and what kinda sick pleasure will it bring ya this time? Y'know, since everythin’ appears to be a sex thing with you two.” He remarked with a tiny smirk, clearly aiming to piss them off some more, despite his better judgment and the fact that it was just going to make everything worse for him.
Dammit, even those weird ass mini singing imps were here to watch.
His attention was yanked away, however, as Blitzø's hand then reached out towards him, and he tensed up once more, instinctively sucking his stomach in. But, the imp merely grabbed the cowboy's hat and placed it on his own head, earning a ‘seriously?’ look from both of the other demons, and an extra eye roll from Striker, who was getting fed up with this. But then Fizz's voice sounded out again, still speaking as if the whole thing was a scripted performance. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it's time for the game to start! Alright cowboy, are you ready?!”
“Listen, I don’ know what you jester twinks are plannin’ to accomplish with this, but I can assure ya, you ain’t gon’ pull a stunt like this again once I get my reve-HENGE!!” Striker's threat was abruptly cut off by the overwhelming sensation of a robotic hand squeezing his side experimentally, his voice raising up to a slightly embarrassing high pitched tone as this happened.
The cowboy attempted to recover by clearing his throat and forcing back the anticipatory nervous smile, refusing to let his captors feel like they were winning. Said captors, however, now adorned ear-splitting smirks that caused the butterflies in Striker's stomach to temporarily double, a few more harsh tugs being acted out on the angelic restraints. “I said ‘are you ready?’, not ‘bore us with monologue’. But still, at least people on Sinstagram will enjoy the bickering. But seriously, don't laugh!” Fizz replied smugly, refocusing his attention on the imp's outfit.
There were a few scorch marks on his shirt that didn't burn through the fabric, so of course, Fizz decided to fuck around a bit and trace ever so gently over those marks, relishing in the way it made Striker flinch and gasp quietly. Yet, his resolve held true, the scowl on the cowboy's face didn't budge, but not did the angelic rope, unfortunately for him.
“Alright it's my turn, move over bitch!” Blitzø demanded, playfully shoving his friend out of the way and cracking his knuckles, before starting to spider his fingers along Striker's sides. This time, it resulted in a wobbly grin showing through for just over a millisecond, the ticklish sensation making Striker wriggle away from the pursuing hands with a bit of desperation.
