After a while, I return with quality demon content.
Verosica looks a little different, because I'm trying to get used to drawing her. I think I finally have how to do her hair down, which was my biggest frustration.
Her biggest frustration is having to talk to people.
Meanwhile we got the M&M in here, and one day I swear I'll get Millie's muscles done right. Moxxie's easier since he's a little stick man, but positioning his horns keeps tripping me up.
Sorry if you can't see the little thought bubble up top. It's Mox in the middle of his daily fret-session thinking "You can order a sandwich and NOT cry today! Today's the day it happens."
I've noodled out yet another reactionary little number, because it seems the only thing that fuels me is spite towards frustrating plot points.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Feel free to read this if you feel Alastor's little plot to escape Rosie made no sense and this show has a habit of having "smart" characters mostly at the expense of the intelligence of all other characters.
As a Courage the Cowardly Dog fan, I will admit that I'm not immune to Kitty/Bunny propaganda. There's a handful of "Courage gets invited to their wedding" fics out there and I wanted to take a stab at doing my own, though my take is less fluff and more character exploration.
Courage and the Baggs are invited to the wedding of Kitty and Bunny, only to encounter not supernatural horrors, but familial ones instead. There's a lot of baggage to be had before the big day, and Courage, so used to contending with whatever weirdness Nowhere throws at him, isn't used to these more mundane situations. This is me kind of doing a Steven Universe Future with Courage, in that he has to deal with simply enduring mundane conflict while so used to life threatening ones, all while retaining the sweet nature that drives him to try to stop the supernatural horrors that keep threatening his family.
With a few twists and turns in there, because it's not a wedding if there isn't DRAMA.
Here's a piece of the action:
"Oh and they're getting married!" She flipped the letter towards him, a smile growing on her face. "Look Courage, we're all invited!"
Curiosity taking over, Courage took the letter and gave it a once-over; it was indeed a wedding invite. Kitty and Bunny were tying the knot and wanted the Bagg family to come, with special mention that Courage attended.
"We wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, dog." Ornate letters pointed out under the invite, swooping with such pointed purpose that Courage couldn't help but imagine those words read out in Kitty's husky voice. "Really Bunny insisted and I couldn't say no."
"Don't let her fool you, Courage -" another message appeared under the first one, written out in cute rounded lettering that filled the little dog's head with Bunny's bubblegum chirp. "She wants you here just as much as I do! Please come. We owe this all to you!"
Courage could maybe count on one paw the number of times his frantic attempts at do-goodery were rewarded with something other than remaining alive. So often were his adrenaline-fueled freakouts just his body's usual defense against the nightmare's Nowhere provided, his mind and body working in tandem under one iron-strong order: Keep Muriel Alive.
Rescuing Bunny wasn't so much a deviation as it was a branch off from his normal efforts.
Someone was in trouble and needed help, and he seemed to be the only one to do it. It's just that 99% of the time that Someone tends to be his kindly Scottish owner.
rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag as many people as you have WIPs. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!
got tagged by @tavina-writes. for the sake of my own sanity, i'm only going with stuff I've actually worked on within the last... eh... we'll say six months.
A Few Small Repairs
Road Trip With Sleeping Beauty
What to Do When They Dig You Up
Casting A Net
The Bars of the Cage
Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Die
and tagging... uhhhhhh, @gffa, @kiwi-green-tea, @jaimebluesq, @dytabytes, @thewondersomethingorother, and @tucutucus
A'ight, this is a little self-indulgent, and trust me, there's more demon stuff on the back-burner, but let me get this out of my system.
When I'm not blasting my emotions about how I, yes I - the town dunce, could do a better job at writing for the Hellaverse cartoons, I'm also being super cool about my dislike for 99% of Danny Phantom/Batman comics crossovers.
So, like Bender proclaims so wisely at the top of this Tumblr, I decided to make my own theme park.
Seen here is my attempt to noodle out what Half Ghost Jason would look like. The dodgy anatomy and colors gives you an idea of how I haven't nailed it down yet, but this is mostly fueled by spite, so it's fine.
Check out the fics I've written so far if you have nothing better to do, like me. You'll be in good company. https://archiveofourown.org/series/4874368
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
So to anyone who knows of me and liked "Full Moon Blitzkrieg," I decided to bow to the muses and noodle out the beginning of a sequel. This one follows "Ghost Fuckers" and Blitz's growing paranoia due to the events of the last story. I'll be attempting my own take on the emotional fallout, Blitz's feelings on being used by a member of royalty, and his connection with Millie.
And because I am from Jersey, I need to slide in a reference to it in some form or another or I die.
Anyway, here ya go. I'll do what I can to update but I make no promises since I work full time and Fall Convention season is coming up.
So here's a smattering of sketches I've accumulated and figured I may as well post because I'm seeking attention like that. Most of these are my own attempts at how I'd draw the characters.
We got Anthony up top, one small full-body to give an idea of what that looks like, and one larger sort of...I guess he's at one of those photo booths and decided to light up? IDK, like you can tell this man what to do, his ass is a whole spider, his afterlife is terrible.
To the left is my take on Verosica, who I tried to tone down but now I worry she's maybe just too much unbroken pink, but it's too late now. I like her hair though.
In the middle is a sad little Moxxie with no money. This is nothing new.
Blitz is at the bottom, lamenting being at the bottom and how the top royal herself doesn't give a shit about imps while she fritters her time away with her little sinner project, a sentiment that's backed up by Charlie herself wondering why the imps don't just pull their lazy little selves up by their bootstraps. Really trying to lean into a grizzled and bitter Blitz, a man haunted by his mistakes and regrets and is genuinely shaped like someone who doesn't know how to take care of himself.
And Charlie's out here getting political advice from Ronald Regan.
Here's a fic I wrote as a sort of response to when Helluva came out with The Full Moon Deal episode, and all the opinions that came with that trainwreck.
This here's my little take on things.
Like a spark it happened so suddenly, so fast, that Blitz almost wrote it off as indigestion.
Wouldn't be the first time he confused his bubbling gut for some kind of epiphany.
But no, as soon as Stolas applied the shining orange gem to his gauntlet, he felt a flash of buried recognition.
Like an old dream the thoughts rushed to the surface; ones of a landscape caked in sinking mud, of voices telling him every little fault he fought to ignore . . . and the chains, the chains and golden staircase and shadowy figures fanning the very same image of feathered nobility right in front of him. Figures who looked like HIM ; his silhouette fanning a demon who sat draped across a throne like he was all-too used to being handed everything in life and Blitz was just the latest in a long line of prizes.
His breath was caught in his throat. The phantom sensation of smothering feathers ghosted across his face. Feathers that glowed with the same amber gold as the very gem that now sat on his wrist . . . gold just like the shackles on his arms and neck while Stolas dragged him closer and closer and closer - and
"NO!"
The yell, guttural and ragged like a demon gasping for air after nearly drowning, echoed across the cavernous mansion. Blitz could barely register that he was the one who made such a noise since his hearing was overwhelmed by the sound of his own erratic heartbeat. Dimly he was aware of Stolas talking, of picking up the crystal that Blitz must have flung across the room mid-outburst, of the sticky sensation of cold sweat soaking into the back of his only good shirt.
None of that mattered, mostly because Blitz was struggling to get his thoughts together past "breathe, breathe, breathe. " Clawed hands gripped at his head, idly scratching at the bases of his horns. If he had hair, Blitz was pretty sure he'd be pulling it out right now as he panicked. Everything felt smothered, like those golden feathers were down his throat, up his nose, all while he fought to pull them off.
Stolas was still talking, but the fact that Blitz wasn't 100% home at the moment and the fact that the birdy bastard wasn't even facing him, instead facing away while he cradled the box the crystal came in, didn't seem to register to the demon prince, and at best the panicking imp could pick up only a few words.
But the words that got through sure did land.
As brief as the snippets were, words like "ungrateful," and "selfish," and " lonely ," and " defensive ," all seemed to strike him like arrows into his heart.
Burning, searing arrows made of the white hot rage of a thousand suns, with every hit igniting more and more of that once simple spark until Blitz felt himself boiling with more heat than Hell itself.
"Heh, y-you . . . ho- hold on. " The imp panted, doing his best to get his words out as clearly as possible despite his chest constricting. "You wanna say that again, Stolas? D-Don't think I could hear you over the clink of the chains around my neck .”
Despite the blurry edges of his vision and the fact that everything took on a nausea-inducing tilt, Blitz was able to make out that the towering image of the Goetia turning to face him, all four red eyes narrowed like he's the asshole, expression less of one devastated by rejection and more a critical teacher disappointed by a wrong answer.
"I was saying, my dear Blitzy -'' And despite his hatred for the nickname, hearing it slither out of that beaked mouth somehow served as that shot in the arm Blitz needed to get a grip on his racing emotions. Instead of smothering panic, more and more of that hot ember grew in his core, clearing his vision and straightening his spine. "That I would have hoped you'd have learned to let those frustrating walls down. I've done the same courtesy for you and the fact that you can't acknowledge a good thing when it's right before you -"
A high crowing laugh escaped Blitz, startling him almost as much as Stolas as the mocking, echoing sound bounced off the polished walls of the empty mansion. The smile that sat on Blitz's face held little humor and all teeth.
"A good thing, huh? And w-whose idea was this whole shitshow arrangement in the first place? Let's you and me put our thinkbuckets together and hash this out because I'm sure between the two of us we can crack that fucking mystery! "
His arms felt tense.
He found he couldn't unclench his fists.
"Because last time I checked, it wasn't ME who came up with the bright-ass idea to form this little 'arrangement.'" Clawed fingers curled over the last word; fingers sharp enough to poke out each and every red eye trained on him. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the one calling YOU while you were running your ASS OFF while psychotic humans were looking to turn your little red carcass into their latest conversation piece! "
The ensuing scoff that came from Stolas only added fuel to Blitz's fire. "You're perfectly capable of getting out of those situations. If only you saw yourself as capable as I do -"
"Bitch, I was being shot at! I GOT shot and YOU were on the phone making your little plans like I'm a pizza order with extra dick on top! " It was rare for an imp to have any extra talent in the way of magic, with only a handful of them having something like wings or anything special, but at the moment Blitz felt like he was about to breathe fire and scorch every feather off the sulking bird in front of him.
Meanwhile Stolas's face was doing a fantastic shift in emotions, with his once impassive and disappointed glare melting into something sadder and wetter. In the evening glow Blitz could see the slight shimmer of tears glinting in all four corners of the owl's eyes, his beak ever-so-slightly wobbling the more barbs Blitz threw his way.
"I - I . . . I had no idea you felt that way. . . " he croaked out, turning from Blitz as if just looking at him was too much to handle.
Too, the fucking , bad.
"Hey - Hey - HEY!" Blitz grounded out as he strode around Stolas's frame to face him. "What the fuck is this?! Are you crying? Bitch, you don't get to pull this stunt and then fucking CRY!" More and more tears gathered in the goetia's eyes, his hands gripping the crystal's box tightly. "This can't all be a fucking surprise to you, or did you hear something totally fucking different than what I said after Ozzie's that night?"
The memory launched itself at him as soon as he brought it up; the bubbling shame, the feeling of the steering wheel cover as he gripped it in one hand while fighting back emotions as his lingering attraction to the owl shriveled and died, all while Stolas just stood there with that stupid hopeful smile on his face. Blitz couldn't believe how dumb he was, but he had really thought he had gotten through to the bird that night. Stolas had seemed so . . . well, he seemed more aware of himself than usual, that was what Blitz thought.
And then he got those fucking texts not long after, all flowery paragraphs feigning ignorance about just what in particular he did to potentially earn Blitz's ire, all while the memory burned bright in his mind of him telling that birdy fuck just what he thought about their little "agreement."
The fact that the taller demon still was able to fool himself into thinking there was something more between the two of them told Blitz everything he needed to know about where he sat in the demon's eyes.
On a shelf , along with all the other shiny toys he's collected over the years, until a newer, better model came along.
More vitriol rolled out of Blitz, all the held back spite inspired by their stupid little meetings that always sat on the tip of his pointed tongue were unleashed on the taller demon. He was on a roll as he ranted and raved, speaking with all his chest that this kind of shitty behavior was the same sort of stunt all the higher ups in Hell pulled with their kind. How imps are always treated as more like props and pets than actual people among the entire dimension, how they're overlooked because they're smaller and weaker and time and time again they're just meant to take whatever bigger and stronger demons demand.
It all poured out like a fountain, like an exorcism, like a volcano long threatening to erupt and smother any hope of escape for the people caught in the blast.
All while Stolas took it, eyes sparkling with tears, beak scrunched with emotion, and every time he tried to turn away, Blitz would round on him and force him to have to look him in the face and get it through his thick head how the imp really feels.
" - think you can treat us this way because we're smaller and less important! " He had worked up a full head of steam now and nothing was going to stop the rant escaping him.
" Well I'm not letting you, bitch! LET'S GO! "
As those final words echoed around the room Blitz had to practically chase Stolas into as the owl demon tried to basically saunter away from it all, all the imp could hear again was his own heartbeat in his head. It thudded angrily, spite pumping through his veins as he snarled up at the taller demon. It wasn't until a few seconds later did it dawn on him that he basically challenged the member of demon royalty to throw-down, but he was beyond caring at the moment.
Stolas meanwhile had once again turned his back to Blitz, posture frozen with nary a ruffle of feathers. Still high on getting everything off his chest, Blitz nearly stomped right out of the building right then and there...until a soft voice spoke up.
"I had no idea you thought so lowly of me . . ."
It was almost enough to start him right back up . . . until Blitz caught what he had to say next.
"When all I think of is you, Blitzy ."
In an instant, black shadows erupted from every corner of the room, their slithering presence smothering any light that once shone through the large windows. Blitz, already light on his feet and fueled by adrenaline, twisted and turned as best he could, using his agility that he's honed through assassin jobs and childhood in the circus, but he was quickly overwhelmed. Before he knew it, his legs were bound and he was being hauled, upside down, before Stolas like a prized fish.
"This could have been so easy for you, my little imp." The look on the goetia's face was a strange blend of deranged and laser focused, his red eyes boring a hole into Blitz, not blinking at all. Tears still sat in the corners, as if he was breaking down inside. "But time and time again, each chance I give you, you refuse the life I could offer ."
"What life?!" Blitz spat back, fighting to free himself while the blood rushed to his head. If he could just get to his damn flintlock . . . all he had to do was keep Stolas talking. "Be your little bedwarmer?! Your little purse imp you can pull out whenever the mood strikes?! Go get a fucking Fizzy, asshole!"
"A better life than all this -" Stolas twirled an aristocratic hand as he searched for the proper word. "Struggle . Of silly jobs for silly little sinners with axes to grind so you can live off what scraps you can get your hands on."
"And whose fault is it that we get paid shit?! People barely wanna pay imps at all!" He was close, but the last thing Blitz needed to do was show his hand in trying to reach for his gun, instead doing his best to look like he was still fighting the shadows binding his legs.
"But if you only admitted to your feelings for me," Stolas carried on, either unaware or uncaring about Blitz's words. "You'd have nothing but luxury for the rest of your otherwise insignificant life!" He then loomed over where Blitz hung in the air, suspended over the floor by the tight bonds of the shadows. "Doesn't that sound lovely?"
For a moment the two held each other's' gaze, Stolas's red eyes practically the only color in the room dimmed by his twisted magic, a smile on his beak while Blitz sat there frozen in a half sit-up, unsure of how to process the most insane proposal he had ever heard.
Still . . . almost there.
"Life of luxury huh?" Blitz gulped, doing his best to keep his eyes on Stolas, to keep calm while somewhat at his mercy. "Just you . . . and me?"
"It would be like a dream, my dear." Stolas cooed as he clasped his talons together with a sigh, as if remembering having that actual dream. "We'd be able to start something new, have lives together, away from the trappings of what's expected of us."
So close.
"New lives, huh? No more IMP?"
"That's right."
"No more employees?"
"Yes, my darling!"
"No more kids?"
To his surprise, that brought pause to the taller demon. The once intense look seemed to lower to something more somber. "Via . . .Via is better off without me . . . she's already so strong, so grown up. She doesn't need a father like me."
For once, a thought occurred to Blitz. "And . . . my kid? What about her? "
"Hmmm? Oh yes, your hound."
Molten bile threatened to once again burn through his veins, but Blitz needed to keep his cool. "Yeah. . . her. Tell me this, Stolas. . . what's my daughter's name? "
The confused blink would have almost been cute if it weren't for everything about his situation, but Blitz found he needed to hear this answer. "She's friends with your kid, I've seen them sending each other videos on Sinstagram. You love your daughter so much . . . then you should know her friend, my daughter's, name ."
Stolas seemed to ponder for a moment. His blackened talon rubbed along his chin as he considered his answer.
Blitz's reach inched ever closer.
"Really Blitzy, what does it matter? She's clearly an adult by this point. Does she truly need you in her life?"
His answer was met with the copper end of the gun aimed squarely at his beaked face. The cool metal of the handle sitting comfortably and familiarly in Blitz's hand.
"Wrong answer!"
He didn't even hesitate to fire, with the split-second twitch of the shadows he was still trapped in being the only reason the taller demon was able to avoid having his brains splattered across the ornate windows. In a flurry of black tendrils and feathers, Stolas weaved across the room, putting distance between him and Blitz, dropping his prize in the process.
No longer held aloft, Blitz fell into a well-honed roll before scuttling behind a tall wardrobe tucked to the side.
"You couldn't just let me LOVE YOU! " Stolas's warped voice, partly from his unleashed dark magic and part from the cavernous room making any sound echo in all directions, cried out. From his position of brief safety, Blitz could see shadows shake and writhe all over, and as he peaked around the corner, he was treated to the image of where they were coming from.
Concentrated in the middle of the room sat a massive writhing lump of shadows. Feathers and talons and eyes seemed to bubble and surface from inside the undulating shape like hot butter, only to disappear a second later, making the whole thing look like some kind of primordial Hell creature from beneath Envy's oceans. The only thing that seemed to remain fixed on the otherwise animated mass was two pairs of red eyes, large and tear-filled, sitting towards the top.
" We could be so HAPPY! "
Screams of bird cries rose and joined the warped words spilling out of the mass. Blitz could just make out various beaks breaking the surface.
It was damn ugly . . . but by this point he was used to ugly.
"Don't you come cryin' to me, Stolas." Blitz chanced leaving his spot behind the dresser, keeping to the creeping shadows along the wall. He was certain that if he could just get to a window and shoot out the glass, he could make a mad break for it. "You had every fucking chance to be happy, but you decided to piss it all away with ME!"
The mass writhed again as tendrils and inky black feathers erupted out of it in all directions, forcing Blitz to twist this-way and that to avoid getting ensnared. He managed to scuttle under a table in the chaos, only to realize that there was no rhyme or reason to where the various limbs lashed out.
Stolas wasn't aiming at anything, and as he looked at the pile of magic and feathers again, he realized why; those four glowing eyes in the center were screwed shut, glistening tears streaming down the sides.
So Stolas wasn't paying attention, as usual. It gave him a potential out.
"What was I to do?! This marriage devolved into a pit of despair and you're saying I should have simply endured it?!? "
Another wave of shadowy tentacles for Blitz to evade came at him. As much as he wanted to charge at the writhing ball of limbs and angst guns-a-blazing, he knew he had to exercise that restraint part of his brain, no matter how atrophied it may be, thanks to having only so many bullets on his person. Still, he got off a few good shots just to keep the encroaching shapes back before making another attempt for the window, gun aimed right at the glass.
Only to feel another tug at his leg.
"Did you truly think I didn't TRY? Life with Stella was - !"
" WHAT , Stolas?! What the fuck can you tell me about your shitty life of money and power and shit that'll make me care how fucking sad you are?!"
Once again, despite being held in the air like a rat by the tail before a demon far stronger than he could even dream of being, Blitz found himself unable to care about what spills out of his mouth. "You think I give a single SHIT about how crappy your marriage was? Oh, the bitch wasn't happy she found out you were sixty-nining with an IMP?! Poor baby, that must have been so hard for you!"
"I poured everything into that relationship with that horrid woman and she treated me like garbage since the day we met!"
The mass writhed again with emotion, swinging Blitz like he was attached to the end of a fishing line. He tried to fire off some shots at the middle, but none of them landed. "TAKE some FUCKING RESPONSIBILITY then, asshole!" He fired back, spitting mad at the blob of self-pity. Once again he felt like his blood was boiling. "How about quit acting like the world is fucking against you and fix your own shit! FUCK , you're telling me that YOU, with all your power and connections can't stage a hit?!”
He would have taken that money if offered, easy. Hatred of Stolas or no, rich people love throwing away their money on stupid shit.
Like him.
The sound of gunfire echoed across the cavernous room as he aimed again, mingling with the persistent screeching spilling out of Stolas. The smell of smoke emanating from Blitz’s flintlock filled his nose, keeping his senses sharp and grounding him, the shakes from the earlier wave of emotions banished for the time being in the face of escaping. The bullets met their mark as they finally planted themselves into the writhing Stolas mass, causing a fresh barrage of hellish bird screeches to fill the room.
Ceiling fixtures shook, windows fractured, and Blitz was pretty sure one of his earholes was bleeding, but he couldn’t find the capacity to give a shit in the face of the Goetia’s pain.
Before he was even aware of the tendril around his leg letting go, he already hit the floor with a meaty thud, once again barely aware of the fresh string of whining coming from the prince.
“Malp . . . Malp -” Finger dug into an earhole, Blitz scuttled behind a piece of wreckage kicked up by the tantrum, doing his best to keep alert for another sneak attack while waiting for the ringing to clear his ears.
“ - shot me! How could you? Your beloved! I’m the only demon to ever show you affection! To show you romance! You spurn my gift, insult my feelings like everyone else in my life and then shoot me in my own home?!
“Aw fuck,” the assassian cringed as the words finally reached him. “Nevermind, I’ll stick with being deaf if it means not having to hear this shit . . . or Moxxie’s singing .”
From his spot Blitz watched as more and more the mass morphed and bubbled while Stolas cried out; wings unfurling only to melt back into the darkness, talons scraping along the once pristine floor only to rejoin the pile of shrieks and feathers before another five or so whips of inky darkness shot out instead. It was maybe the most unflattering he’s ever seen Stolas, save for that time he tried introducing roleplay that one visit and the owl failed almost immediately in supporting Blitz’s body weight as his mighty steed.
Blitz knew he didn’t have a lot of standards when it came to the people he dated, but damn it if he didn’t stand by his belief that a half-decent fuck needs to know the importance of being the strong horse when in the midst of “ save a succubus, ride a cowboy. ”
But as he navigated around the bits of broken glass that littered the floor and reflected the slowly rising moon outside, did an idea outside of “survive” finally dawn on Blitz.
The fall from this floor was going to be a bitch and a half, but damn if he wasn’t getting out of this house of whores and horrors. He wasn’t spending any longer entertaining Stolas and his hissy fit.
He glanced over at the still screaming mass; it’s hideous and malformed appearance being only the second worst thing about it considering the pathetic screeching cries coming out of it, words spewing out of the shape as tattered, half-formed versions of the once honeyed words Stolas would toss his way while in a far better mood.
“ - come back to me, dear Blitzy and this will all be like a bad dream. All I want is to give you what we both deserve. Our mutual moment in the sun. No ties to hold us back from admitting what is truly there.”
Before more soured sugar could flow out of whatever hole the Stolas mass was speaking out of, Blitz scuttled along the side of the walls, doing his damndest to inch over to the nearest window while avoiding brushing up along any of the debris that littered the floor like so much flotsam and jetsam that drifted along the seas of Envy.
How the birdy fuck was still talking after all the slugs Blitz just blasted into him was anyone’s guess.
“I’ve given you so many opportunities to admit your feelings, to invite you into my life so we can be free of the demands of our mutual shackles.” More and more tendrils, claws, wings, and other extremities seemed to burst from the mass, clawing and scuttling along the floor as they no doubt searched for Blitz, who was trying to remain light on his feet as he juked around every obstacle to avoid alerting his presence to Stolas while he was at the moment blinded by tears. “I could see it in the stars, our story. It’s so beautiful and as soon as we’re away from these trappings, this cage of responsibility, I’ll show you the destiny I saw spelled out for us…my darling.”
Choking back some bile, Blitz instead focused on the immediate. The window ahead of him was close, close enough that he could smell the overgrown garden surrounding the mansion outside, and just barely make out the din of clustered Pride noises that no demon in the ring could truly escape.
It sounded like freedom.
It felt like a weight, one roughly the size and shape of a particular owl obstacle, was finally being lifted off his shoulders.
He could practically taste it if he just -
-Crunch-
Went the chunk of glass under his boot, and in the hair’s breath between the sound being made and Blitz’s knee-jerk reflexes, he knew he didn’t even have to look at Stolas to know his sights had been turned on him. All this time spent under the owl’s unwanted gaze meant he had something of a sixth sense in knowing when the skinny pain was looking at him.
“Blitzy! Don’t worry my darling!” Cried Stolas as limbs erupted out of his warped body like a swarm of insects, crawling and scraping towards Blitz like a skittering tidal wave. “I’ll forgive you in time for your little outburst! After all, any hardships are worth it in the face of True Love!”
Blitz found he didn’t even have to think in the face of so many scrambling shapes coming his way. In a matter of seconds he knew he’d be trapped, forever in the clutches of a mad owl unwilling to ever let him go again. So no, it didn’t take any thought at all as he raised his gun, cocked his head, and peered right through the small, almost impossibly small, opening through all the weaving, grabbing, shapes barreling towards him like an avalanche; aiming right at the center of the larger pair of eyes.
A perfect shot.
-BANG-
For a moment the shot rang out, cracking through the destroyed halls of the mansion and joining the many other cracks that littered the walls, floors, and furniture that Stolas’s tantrum created. For a pure second it was the only thing Blitz was aware of; the most beautiful sound in the world . . . before being replaced by the new most beautiful sound in the world, the agonized bird screeched emanating out of Stolas.
Black blood, slick and shiny like bile, sprayed out of the wound, and though the shot was perfect, Blitz found he didn’t account for the possibility of the prince moving at the last second, turning his one-in-a-million shot into something a little less deadly but a little more noticeable.
As the owl prince’s eye count now sat uneven.
Words were no longer coming out of the quaking shape, only screams and shrieks as clawed hands attempted to hold in the pouring blood that escaped from the now damaged socket. For a moment Blitz watched as the prince attempted to regain his original shape, his tall frame trying to reform but only resulting in the skinny top half rising out of a still unstable mass, all while thick blood still ran free over his long fingers as he held his face.
Stolas turned, three remaining eyes zeroing in on Blitz’s narrowed two, and the air seemed to still as they held the look.
Blitz was never shy with his words, never the kind of imp to hold back how he felt. He had barbs to sling on a good day and downright venom to spray on a bad one, never caring how his words affected others as long as it meant living his life as free as he possibly could. He certainly never felt the need to hold back his thoughts on the owl as long as the arrangement hovered over his head, time and time again giving Stolas his mind on just how he felt about having to meet each month while the prince clawed at any imaginary scraps of attention he got.
But now? Now that he managed to put a bullet in the eye of one of Hell’s upper class, leaving a permanent mark on royalty (and potentially just as big a target on his back)?
Now Blitz just wanted to go home .
He could only hope Loona was there when he got in.
He had nothing left for the prince.
So before he allowed another tendril to dart out and grab him so Stolas could add him to his little box of hopes and dreams, Blitz leapt out the window and aimed for the bushes below, the air smelling so sweet as he fell.
I totally forgot to post here the fics I noodle out. Mostly they're a means to make sense of Hazbin/Helluva's shoddy writing/characterization/worldbuilding/everything else.
It's not all bile brought up from the sexy Hell show, but there certainly is a lot of it.
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