Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So, my first oneshot book. tags and contents will be added and updated as I go.

This is how things would work out:

What I will do:

• Fluff
• Canon/canon romantic or friendly relationship
• Sick fic
• Dark past fic

What I will not do:

• (anything to do with canon/canon sexual activities)
• Pregnancy fics

Contents:

1. Thunderstorms- Moxxie is terrified of thunderstorms. Thankfully, Millie is there to comfort him.
2. Last Chance- Striker wants Moxxie and Blitzo to forgive him, but can he earn their trust after the attempted murder of one Imp and the threat of killing the others lover? Apparently not. So, in order to regain their trust and earn forgiveness, he leaves behind a weapon Moxxie had found at the Ranch in the Wrath Ring.
3. Growing up- Blitzo and Loona take on the world as a father and his 6 year old daughter. (WIP)
4. Deep Scars- Moxxie hated talking about his past, but after a Nightmare regarding his parents' deaths, can he finally open up to his wife, or will he forever be haunted by the guilt of witnessing his parent's deaths? (WIP)
5. Forced- We all have theorized Stolas and Stella's marriage was arranged, but what if Stolas forced Stella to become his wife instead? (Requested by Anonymous)
6. Brothers- While the I.M.P are staying in the Wrath Ring for the Harvest Moon Festival, they all, plus Millie's family, discover the reason behind Moxxie and Striker's tension between each other. (WIP)
7. Bombproof and Striker: The Imp and the Hellhorse- Striker finds a young Hellhorse colt while working on the fields at Rough an' Tumbleweed Ranch.
8. Fearless- Harvey regrets what he did to Moxxie, and visits his and Millie's home to apologize.
9. The Assasination of the Assasin- Chase, Stolas's bodyguard and a professional Hitman, is hired by Michael, Moxxie's Father, to kill Moxxie.

Chapter Text

Thunder rumbled loudly throughout the underworld, threatening to shake the buildings with enough force to tear them down.

Moxxie laid awake, tired eyes widened in fear as streaks of lightning lit up the blood red sky. He shivered, whimpering as he urged himself to sleep. Millie was fast asleep beside him, gently snoring.

"Tonight of all nights," He sighed. "Why did it have to forecast a thunderstorm?"

"Mmmmhhh..." The white-haired Imp anxiously turned to his lover as Millie's eyes fluttered open as she rolled over to add him. "Moxxie....?"

"Sorry honey." Moxxie meekly apologised. "I couldn't sleep."

"The storm keepin' ya up, huh?"

".... Yeah....." Moxxie sighed. Millie pulled him close, gently running a hand through his snowy locks. Moxxie purred and closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of his wife's own purrs.

"Its alright to be scared, baby." Millie Whispered in her husband's ear. "I know you hate thunderstorms."

The pair laid there in silence for a while before Moxxie turned to his wife, his gleaming golden eyes glistening with tears. "I love you." He said.

"I love you too, baby." Millie replied. The pair pressed their foreheads together, going in for a heated kids, only for Moxxie to pull away, growling.

"Sir, we know you're there." He hissed.

The aforementioned Imp, Blitzo, was stood outside the window with his phone in-hand, grinning from ear to ear. "Fuck off, Moxx!" He giggled. "Pretend I'm not even here!"

"While you're standing there recording us?" Moxxie barked.

"Yep."

The next morning, Moxxie and Millie entered the office to find a large cake on Loona's desk, coated in ruby red frosting and poorly spelt words the pair could barely under. "Sory fr last nite." Covered the cake in black and pink icing. 

Moxxie rolled his eyes at his boss,s poorly spelt cake. He turned to his wife. "He made us a cake?"

"At least he's apologising. C'mon," Millie picked up the cake. "Why don't we take this to our office and keep it safe until we finish the job?"

"I guess so." Moxxie shrugged. "But I still do not understand the boss's concept of giving us a cake to apologize for watching us. He does it regardless of the fact I have to chase him halfway across the city each time."

"Oh, lighten up, Moxx!" Moxxie and his wife turned towards the source of the voice, finding their boss in the doorway to his office. "This company is like a family to me. You all are like family."

"For the last time, sir, we are not a-" Moxxie began, only for Millie to cut him off by putting her hand over her husband's mouth. Moxxie huffed, glaring at his wife.

"Of course we're a family, sir!" She claimed. 

"Thank you, Millie." Blitzo beamed happily. "At least someone sides with me." He glanced at Moxxie, frowning.

Moxxie removed Millie's hand from his mouth. "Sir, with all due respect, we are really not a-" This time, the phone rang. Moxxie growled as Millie walked over to answer it.

"Hello, I.M.P..... Yes, we can.... Yep, and we'll get our payment after delivering the bodies?.... Of course, see you soon sir." Millie put the phone down, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

"Another kill?" Blitzo asked.

"Three kills in one."

"Great! Triple the money, here we fucking come, baby!" Blitzo cheered. He ran I to his office and grabbed his flintlock from his desk. "Grab your gear, team! We going to the Human World!"

Chapter Text

Striker grumbled under his breath as Bombproof cantered towards the I.M.P office. "You’re seriously making me come all the way here from the motel?" He hissed at the Hellhorse, tail rattling ferociously.

Bombproof nickered in reply. He stopped right outside the office, and Striker dismounted. "Fine, wait here." He trudged inside, sighing as he entered the elevator. He pressed the button for the first floor and the elevator took him upstairs. Once he’d arrived on the first floor, he stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall towards the I.M.P office doors. He faltered, hand raised towards the knob. He took a deep breath and turned the knob, letting himself inside.

"The fuck is it this time?" Barked a familiar voice. Striker immediately recognized it at Blitzo's hellhound, Loona.

"Another client?" The vermin answered, equally as confused.

"Can’t be, we’re just about to shut up shop for the night." Blitzo spoke next. "And I think Moxx would like to actually go home to baby his wife now."

"Sir, please refrain yourself." Moxxie growled. The pair of Imps turned the corner and found the one person they’d never expect standing in the doorway.

"STRIKER?!"

"The fuck do you want?" Blitzo hissed. The trio of Imps were sat in the meeting room, with Blitzo and Moxxie sitting opposite Striker at the table, beside one another.

"I want to apologise, and earn your forgiveness and trust again." Striker sighed.

"You want us to forgive you?!" Moxxie yelled angrily. "You do realise you could have killed me, you almost killed the Ars Goetia Prince and you got my wife hurt in her own family’s ranch."

"Making things too real, Moxx." Blitzo grumbled. He picked up a spray bottle and sprayed the contents in Moxxie’s face.

"You're both probably still holding a grudge against me for the events at the Harvest Moon Festival, but I'm sincerely coming all the way from Wrath to ask for your forgiveness."

"No way!" Moxxie growled. "Not after everything you did!"

"I'm with Moxxie on this one." Blitzo sneered. "How do you suppose we can just let you off the hook after everything you did?"

"Because I can reveal who paid me to assasiate that pompous Goetia." Striker stated. 

"And that is?" Moxxie raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Stella Goetia."

"The whore married to Stolas, who hates his guts and mine." Blitzo hissed. "Fucking hell, now I'll have to tell Stolas who hired you."

He walked away, leaving Moxxie alone with Striker. The pale pink cowboy removed his hat, setting it aside on the table. 

"Look, Moxx. I understand you still hate me, but-"

"Striker, stop." Moxxie cut him off. "I've heard enough of your bullshit. I'm not going to forgive you for what you did to me and Millie. You practically threw us aside while to seduced our Boss, almost persuading him to go along with siding with you to slay Overlords."

"C'mon, Moxx. I knew Blitzo had the raw potential for something greater than being an assasin-for-hire." Striker groaned. "Plus, my employer wanted that pompous Goetia dead, so I had no choice if I wanted to get you, your wife and your rodeo clown of a boss outta the way."

"Excuse me!" The Imps turned to the doorway, where Loona stood with a pissed off look on her face, phone long forgotten. "The fuck, you prick?!"

"Didn't mean nothing by it." Striker gulped as the teenage Hellhound advanced on him. Moxxie had leapt from his seat, hands immediately reaching for his handgun. 

"I wouldn't do anything if I were you, Partner." He grinned. "Loona here is pissed off. You do not wanna cross her when she's pissed off."

"We get it, fatty!" Loona barked.

"Geez, okay." Moxxie rolled his eyes, loading his gun and aiming it for Striker's chest. "We want you gone, Striker. You are to never come back here to beg for forgiveness, or come back here looking for a job."

"Sure, whatever." Striker raised his hands, walking towards the window. "I'll get going, it's clear you fellas don't want me here." He opened the window and leapt out. 

Moxxie and Loona watched as he and Bombproof took off. Loona then slammed the window shut, locked it, and turned back to Moxxie. 

"Thank fuck, he's gone."

"Yeah." Moxxie nodded. "Thanks for that, Loona."

"Don't mention it." Loona shrugged, then scowled. "Seriously, don't." She glanced to one side, raising an eyebrow. "Fucker left something behind." She then left the room. 

Moxxie walked over to the object Striker had left. He found it was an identical briefcase to that which he'd used at the Harvest Moon Festival. Curious, Moxxie picked he case up, laying it on the table. He unlocked it and opened it. Sitting inside the padded interior, sat the very same Carmine-crafted blessed-tipped rifle Striker had tried assasinating Prince Stolas with.

"He won't be needing this anytime soon."

Striker growled. "Fuck. Now what do we do, 'Proof?" The Hellhorse nickered. "We lost the gun, dumbass. The I.M.P got it. What do I tell Bosslady?" Bombproof nickered again. "Nah, I can't do that. They'll find out I'm there." Bombproof huffed, as if rolling his eyes, and continued to run.

Moxxie locked the weapons locker, where he had carefully placed the Carmine-crafted blessed-tipped rifle. He smiled, satisfied before locking the target room's door and joining Blitzo in the lobby. 

"Took you long enough, Moxx!" Blitzo cackled. "C'mon, we're all heading to the bar, I think we deserve a nice drink after today."

"What about Millie?" Moxxie asked.

"We'll go back to your place and grab her." Blitzo answered.

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Positive. Now, grab your stuff and we'll hit the road."

Chapter Text

Stolas walked through his large, pristine castle, glancing at each painting that decorated the walls. As he walked, he came across a particular picture of himself and Stella on their wedding day. The Ars Goetia Prince smiled warmly as he thought back to those days.

Stolas stood in the ballroom, grasping a glass of wine in his talon. He glanced around the room, eyes locking in place as he found his chosen bride. He walked towards her and wrapped his arms around her. "Be my bride, Stella. Join me in unholy matrimony as we both gaze upon the stars, our places in Hells Heirachy as the Ars Goetia Prince and Princess."

"Stolas, no." Stella whipped around, ripping his talons from her shoulders. "I am not going to marry you."

"Oh, but you will." Stolas smirked. He glanced around the room before taking Stella by the hand and leaving the room. "Stella, I know you wouldn't like to be my bride, but I'm afraid you have no choice, my dear."

"No choice, of course I have a choice, you idiot!" Stella snarled.

"No, my dear. I have already arranged our marriage. Your parents have agreed to it."

"They would never agree to me marrying lowsome filth like you, Stolas." Stella pulled away, arms over her chest. "I'm sorry, but I am still against it. Find another bride." She walked away, but Stolas pulled her back harshly. "Stolas, let me go!"

"Not until you become my bride." Stolas seethed. "Until you realise you truly need me, you are to stay in this room alone, Stella." He threw her against the wall here turning and leaving. He closed the door and locked it.

"No! Stolas, you can't do this!" Stella barked angrily, clenched fists hitting the hardwood door. After a while, Stella's hands began to ache so she stopped and leaves against the door, sliding to the ground with tears in her eyes. "He can't do this.... He just can't...." She sobbed.

A few days past since the ball. Stolas came by to check on his soon-to-be bride, who had, since the ball, been confined by Stolas himself, to a large bedroom with a round bed, desk, closet, personal bathroom and balcony. The doors to the balcony had been locked to prevent Stella from escaping until she'd agree to marrying him. 

Presently, Stolas gently knocked in the door before unlocking it and stepping inside. Stella laid on the bed, curled up in a ball with her knees against her chest. She trembled with each intake of breath.

Stolas melted at the sight. He sat on the bed beside her, and gently laid down, wrapping an arm around her torso.

Stella immediately sat up, having been woken up by Stolas's sudden appearance. She backed up, fear evident in her wide pink-ish red eyes. 

“What the fuck?!” She yelled.

”Thiught you needed some company from your soon-to-be husband.” Stolas grinned.

”No thank you!” Stella growled. “Now fuck off and leave me alone!”

”You know I won’t do that, Stella.” Stolas stood up and closed the gap between them. “You are going to be my wife, which means I can get as close to you as I want.”

”No!” Stella pushed him back with all her might. “I will never become your bride!”

”Oh, but you are.” Stolas grinned. “The wedding is in three days. Every overlord and each member of Hell’s Heirachy will be there to see you and I get married.”

”This is insane...” Stella muttered. She closed her eyes and growled. “You are the most insane man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting, Prince Stolas.”

”I know.” Stolas shrugged. “Most demon royalty has already said that to me. Even King Lucifer himself dislikes me.”

”No shit, Sherlock.” Stella mumbled. Stolas shook his head.

”Regardless of the fact you dislike me so much, may I remind you we need to leave? We have a very important ordeal to attend.”

”We?” Stella raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes, my dear. You and I are both to attend.” 

“What is this “ordeal”?”

”A Press Conference. You and I are going to announce our relationship, publicly.”

”No. You can’t make me do this!”

”I can and we are.” Stolas bit back. “Get yourself washed and into a fresh new pair of clothes, my bride. I will see to it the butler to collects you.”

He promptly left, this time leaving the door unlocked. Stella tested the knob, finding the door had, in fact, been locked with a sort of barricade. She growled and decided to follow her “Husband”‘s orders. 

Fifteen minutes passed before a knock on the door resounded through the room. “Ma’am, the Prince sent me to collect you for him.” A voice spoke.

”I'm coming, just a second.” Stella told the voice. 

“Okay. I will wait out here for you, Ma’am.”

Stella rolled her eyes and knocked on the door. The barricade was removed and the butler, a silver-coated hellhound wearing a black tuxedo and white bowtie, stepped inside.

”Are you ready, Ma’am?” He asked.

”Yes.” Stella sighed. She followed the butler out of the room and through the halls to the main palace doors, where Stolas stood with his crown and suit on.

”Ready for the Press, my bride?”

”I guess so...” Stella nodded. Stolas took her by the hand and guided her towards a pristine black limousine.

The press conference felt like drain as Stella sat beside Stolas, bored out of her mind. Stolas had been talking to the journalists for over an hour about how they “met”, how the “wedding planning” was going and “who would attend”. 

“Stella?” 

Stella lifted her head to face Stolas. “What?”

”Are you not enjoying this?” He asked. Stella shook her head boredly. “Oh, I didn’t know. We’ll be going home soon.”

”Good.” Stella huffed. “I’d rather anywhere but here."

"We'll be done soon, don't worry, my dear." Stolas smiled warmly. Stella nodded, flinching when Stolas's hand grabbed her own.

Years passed like a few mere seconds in Stella's eyes. Soon enough, just two years after her and Stolas's wedding, the couple had their daughter, Octavia. Now, their little Starfire was a teenager, caught amongst her parents bickering.

Late one evening, while Stolas was with Blitzo on a "date", Via approached her mother.

"Mom, why do you and Dad always fight?" She asked. Stella, who had been sipping a glass of rosé, spat out the beverage. she turned to octavia, eyes widened. 

"Why do you ask, my owlet?"

"Since I was young, I've always been able to hear you two bickering." Octavia answered. "You're leaving Dad, aren't you?"

"No!" Stella insisted. "Darling... mine and your father's relationship.... its complicated."

"How so? Like Dad and the Imp?"

"Kind of." Stella took a deep breath. "Before you were born, I was forced to marry your father."

"By who?" Octavia asked, sitting beside her mother.

"Stolas forced me himself. He locked me in one of the bedrooms of the palace to make me fall for him in that way. when I still told him I wouldn't marry him, he told me the three days from then, we would officially be married in front of Hell's other royals and the Overlords."

"What did you do?" Via frowned, brow furrowing and anger towards her father.

"I couldn't do anything. Stolas didn't give me a choice. I had to marry him regardless." Stella shook her head.

"That's terrible, Mother." Octavia shot from her seat when the door opened and Stolas entered, dressed in his crimson robe.

"Good evening, Stella, Via." 

"Hey Dad..."

"Good evening, Stolas."

Chapter Text

When Moxxie heard the dreaded sound of hooves on dirt, he knew immediately who was coming. He barely heard Joe call a name before a tall Imp with pale pink skin, wearing a cowboy hat, flannel shirt, jeans and leather vest, riding a hellhorse came into view. Moxxie's eyes narrowed in resentment as the newcomer dismounted his horse, approaching his wife.

"You must be the famous Mildred. Heard some good things about you from your folks, little lady."

Moxxie immediately recognised the voice. There was no way he was going tocspend the next 24 hours with that fucker.

Striker soon approached Moxxie. "We meet again, brother."

"Fuck off." Came Moxxie's response. 

Striker rolled his eyes. "Now, is that any way to treat your dear older brother, Moxxie?"

"You're only a year older, Striker!" Moxxie hissed. "It's bad enough I'm stuck around you until my team and I leave at dawn tomorrow, but it's even worse I'm sitck with you, in our in-laws ranch."

"I thought you'd actually relax a little now you're away from all the city life." Striker sighed. "We'll, guess I thought wrong about you, Moxx."

"Shut up and get back to work." Moxxie growled. 

"Fine. See you at the games, brother." Striker moved away and approached Blitzo as Millie sided up beside her husband.

"How's it you know Striker? He clearly knew you by name?" She asked.

"Its complicated." Moxxie told her. "Striker and I.... Well, we're brothers."

"Brothers?" Millie' eyes widened.

"Yeah." Moxxie nodded, following his wife into the farmhouse. "I really didn't expect to see him here, much less be anywhere near him here at the Festival."

"Why not? He's your brother." Blitzo piped up from behind Moxxie. The married couple turned to their boss.

"He's an asshole, that's why." Moxxie grumbled. 

"An asshole? Why, I'm offended." Striker joined the conversation, grinning towards his brother. Moxxie growled.

"Fuck off, prick." 

"Suck a dick, kissass." 

"Asshole."

"Momma's boy."

"Alright!" Millie stepped in between her husband and brother-in-law. "That's enough. Settle this tension at the Games." Both brothers glared at her before resuming their staring contest.

"Mildred's right." Striker suddenly stated. "We can settle this at the Pain Games. I know how much h you used to like them as a kid."

"I was forced to compete with you every year. You practically dragged me to the Games at one point." Moxxie hissed. 

"Dragged, brought long... So what? Same thing."

It was an hour before the start of the Harvest Moon Festival. Striker and Moxxie were outside, helping set up the last few required items.

Striker watched his brother struggle to lift a large crate of pumpkins. "God damnit...." He muttered under his breath. "Give it here." He approached his brother and lifted the crate with ease. 

"Thanks.... I guess." Moxxie raised an eyebrow, confused as to why Striker was helping him. 

"Do you remember the day I told Mom and Dad I was signing up for the war?" Striker suddenly asked, dropping the crate and leaning against the fence beside him.

"Of course I do, dumbass." Moxxie rolled his eyes, joining his brother. "I remember Mom and Dad screaming at you for joining Lucifer's army. I could even hear all the bickering over my music."

"You did love music, even as a kid." Striker smirked. "Anyway, Dad said if he'd ever suspect one of his kids to join Lucifer's army, it would have actually been you."

"What? Why?!" Moxxie barked.

"He said you needed to learn how to be a real man. He also said if you didn't sign up, he'd do it himself and force you to go. So, when you ran away, all Dad could do was agree to send me in your place. That's how I met 'Proof."

"I kinda wondered how you met Bombproof." Moxxie nodded. "

"The war... Fighting the angels... It was hard, y'know?" Striker glanced up at the sky, eyes staring blankly towards the glowing Pentagram. "I almost died three times, all three at the Angels hands. But, I pulled through, because I knew you'd wanted to see your big brother alive in one piece."

"But then, you decided to do AWOL for ten years after mine and Millie's wedding." 

"Yes, but I had my reasoning. I was starting my first day as a professional Hitman. The client wanted an Overlord slayed after years of slavery at their hands. Fucker got away, but a certain Radio Demon killed him himself."

"Wait, you saw Alastor?!" Moxxie gawked. "And you lived to tell the tale?!"

"I'm still breathing, aren't I?" Striker joked, nudging Moxxie a little. The smaller Imp chuckled. "Games are gonna start soon, best get a move on."

"Right behind you."

The first hurdle to cross was the wall. Striker and Moxxie glanced at each other, each exchanging competitive, eager glances. 

He's so going down. Both brothers thought. 

The gun went off, signalling the start of the race. Striker launched himself forward, leaping over the wall with practiced ease. He turned and looked down as his brother struggled to climb. "I wanna win... But then again, all I care about at this point of getting my little brother back." He whistled, throwing his tail over the side. "Moxx, grab my tail has I'll pull you up!"

"You sure?" Moxxie called, grabbing his brothers tail. Striker nodded and pulled him up. The two brothers then leapt off the wall, landing on the dirt on the other side. 

Chapter Text

"So, build a new fence for the hogs, repair the shed, harvest the corn and wheat and clean out the Hellhorse stables. Got that?" Joe asked, shoving a piece of paper into Striker's hands. The farmhand nodded.

"I won't let you down, bossman." 

"See to it you don't." Joe huffed. He walked into the house as Striker turned to walk into the fields. He began his chores until he sound of a hellhorse nickering caught his ears. He was in the middle of repairi the shed, almost hitting his finger with the ha,mer in his hand, when he heard the sound. He dropped the hammer and walked off to investigate. He found a young colt, fir as dark as far and mane and tail as red hot as lava, clinging to the cliffside like a lifeline.

"Hold on, little fella. I'll get you in a sec." Striker called down to the colt. He received a scared whiny as he ran off to find some rope. Once he'd found a strong enough rope, he ran back to the cliffside and knotted it up like a harness. He thre it down to the horse. "C'mon, fella. Climb inside and I'll pull you up." The horse hesitated for a few moments before slowly stepping inside the makeshift harness. Once the horse was secured by the role, Striker pulled on the rope, straining to help the colt to safety. He slowly lowered the rope after a short while of struggling, and looked up to find a tractor nearby.

"That'll work." He grinned. He raced towards the tractor and drive it back to the cliffside. "Here we go." He tied the rope to the tractor and began to pull the colt up.

It took a while, but finally the colt was saved. Striker turned off the tractors engine and rushed to untie the colt. "There you go, fella. All safe and sound."

"Striker!" The farmhand turned around to find his employer's oldest daughter, Sallie May, running up to him. "You saved the little guy."

"Couldn't just leave him hanging, could I?" Striker tipped his hat, patting the colt's side. 

"Whatcha gonna name him?" Sallie May asked. 

"I dunno. His mane and tail are like fire." Striker shrugged. "And he didn't take a hit when he originally fell, had when I pulled him up. 

"Hmmm." Sallie May hummed. She then clicked her fingers, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What about Bombproof?"

"Bombproof, eh?" Striker raised an eyebrow, then turned tovthr horse. "What about Bombproof, fella? You like that?"

The colt nickered in agreement. Striker chuckled and turned back to Sallie May. "He likes it." The young farmer grinned. 

"He sure does." Striker nodded. "Bombproof, it is."

Over the next few years, Striker had taught and ridden Bombproof until he'd been fully trained and loyal to the rattlesnake-imp. Within those few years, Sallie May came out to help, grooming the Hellhorse and handing him troughs of leftovers from previous meals. Finall, it was time to show Joe and Lin what he and Bombproof could do.

"Eh, Striker!!" Joe yelled from the front of the farmhouse. Striker grumbled and mounted Bombproof before making the Hellhorse run. When he'd arrived, he didn't expect his employer's daughter, Mildred, to be there with her friends. "I see you're ridin' that ol' Hellhorse of yours."

"Yep. Bombproof and I are still going strong, bossman." Striker nodded, dismounting. He approached Millie, grinning. "So, you must be the famous Mildred. Heard a lot of good things about you from your folks, Lil' lady."

Millie giggled before Moxxie stepped up. "Excuse me, Mister! How dare you flirt with my wife!" 

Millie ceased her giggling and put a calming hand on her husband's shoulder. "Honey, it's alright. He wasn't tryin'a flirt. If he was, I'd have slit his throat already."

"But-" Moxxie was cut off my Millie pecking him on the lips. 

"Why don'tcha head on inside with Blitzo and Loona and get our stuff unpacked?" 

"I guess so." Moxxie nodded defeatedly before turning and walking towards the couple's luggage. He grasped the handles and dragged the cases towards the door, but the bags would not budge. He tried again, straining his muscles as he tugged at the luggage. "Crumbs, what the fuck did Millie put in her bags?"

Joe watched his son-in-law struggle. "Oh fuck me." He wolf whistled as one of his eldest sons, Rocky, walked around the house. "Rocky, help your brother-in-law with his bags."

"Sure thing, Pops." Rocky nodded, walking over and grabbing he bags from Moxxie with ease. The smaller Imp let go, tumbling to the ground. "Gotta build muscle in whose matchstick arms, Moxx. Won't be any use to anyone without your strength."

"I don't need strength!" Moxxie called after him. "I've got my guns!"

"Whatever." Rocky rolled his eyes, walking into the house. Sallie May chuckled at her brother-in-law as he picked himself up. "Y'know, if you enter the Pain Games, I'd surely bet on you dying."

"You, like the rest of your family, hate me." Moxxie grumbled, dusting off his clothes. "To me, you betting on my death really does not surprise me."

"Really?"

"Yep." Moxxie nodded firmly. "I may not be a strong, beefy dickhead, but your sister has the strength enough for both of us."

"Alright then. Let's see how you do at the Games alone since Mills is banned from competing after causing 15 separate funerals at the last Harvest Moon Festival."

"I only caused nine!" Millie barked, tackling her sister.

Striker smirked as he watched Moxxie and Blitzo preparing for the Games. He expected the Boss of I.M.P to compete, but it took him by surprise when the "thespian" Imp joined in.

The gun, which signalled the beginning of the race, was fired and all the Imps raced the finish line, climbing over the wall and leaping over the hellshark puddle. Moxxie, unfortunately, had no time to jump over and quickly fell into the hellshark-infested water. The shark mauled him, shaking him around like a ragdoll.