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we're not kids anymore.
Cosimo Galluzzi
Product Placement
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Keni
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@yafucknut
OH, THANK SATAN. blitzø rp blog from helluva boss. MINORS AND PERSONALS, DO NOT INTERACT. By the way, that means, DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR A PERSONAL BLOG. written by lye, 24, they/them. RULES. Icons come from here or here.
Annoyed, Roth turned to sneer at the troublesome Imp.
“WHO’RE YA CALLING FUCKFACE, FUCK-“
Before Roth could finish that sentence, a bullet ended it. The passenger window cracked, forming an almost spider web of fractures. Several quick, violent gunshots rang out, just barely missing the cab.
Quickly, Roth starts his cab and slams his foot against the accelerator. Jerking forward, the cabs speeds down the street and turns aggressively. Blitzo probably should have buckled up before hand, as Roth’s chaotic driving was madness. Granted, he was doing his best to lose the trouble.
“Glass bulletproof! YEAH, FUCKING BULLETPROOF. LOOK, look what those motherfuckers did. That’s NOT bulletproof.”
"FUCK! FUCK FUCK, FUCK FUCK FUCK—"
Where's his fucking van when he needs it? Where are Millie and Moxxie? These are questions only the plot can answer for us.
"It's not so bad," Blitzø tries to assure him. It is, though, really bad. And his fault. Not that that latter bit is ever going to be acknowledged by the imp.
"Does this thing go ANY FASTER?"
"But I don't mind being.. tiny." In terms of height, but with her weight, well, that was a different story. Then when Black Star realizes what Blitz is talking about 'where it counts', she can't help but blush while giggling. "That's good. You must get l-lots of folks lined up for 'ya, huh?" She's trying to give a compliment.
THE COMPLIMENT DEFINITELY REGISTERS. Blitzø smiles, sly. He doesn't really know what to do with her energy—forgive him, I'm pretty sure he's got a size thing.
"Oh, don't worry about that, dollface. Did I get you all flustered?"
Oooh great! Just what he needed today, yet another sinner gracing his presence and rambling on like they've never spoken to another person before. What's the big deal? It's not like he's The King of Hell or anything.
Oh wait, yeah, he was.
⸺ ❝ Uh huuuh, yup, mhmmm. ❞
He wasn't listening. He'd rather be anywhere else but here right now.
BLITZØ BLUNDERS ON, OBLIVIOUS TO ANY OBVIOUS DISCOMFORT. He feels as if he can't afford to be uninterested in the literal king of his literal entire life. He, really, is trying to be nice.
He continues on, perhaps foolishly.
"So where's it you're trying to go?"
❝ oh. . . so you uh. . . you kill people, huh ? ❞
if there were any chance at salvaging the conversation, lucifer can be certain it's pretty fucking dead now ; but he's already come so far in trying to relate, it would be impossible to leave the conversation at " i kill people ". a good thing he's wearing gloves, the imp's nervous sweat is being masked by his own.
❝ that's very. . . honest. work, i mean ! very honest ━ work. mhm, yep, ❞
and head nods eagerly in the hopes of looking enthusiastic.
❝ so you're like, mercenaries ? and you're killing. . . sinners ? i suppose that's not unusual, they do bring aha-LOT of grudges with them when they die, so. ❞
OH, FUCK, HE BLEW IT. The imp is fucking dead. He thinks aboout all the things he's going to miss, regret, all the things he cherishes. His very life flashes before his eyes.
But Lucifer seems to...understand? The King of Hell seems to...empathize, sympathize? Blitzø pulls his hand away, wrings both hands nervously close to his chest. He doesn't seem to notice the uncomfortability of his own claws.
"Sinners? Oh—no. No." He doesn't know how to elaborate. "Not sinners. Not Hellborn. Your—your citizens are safe, sir!" He laughs—loud, abrupt, and awkward.
some tragic news hit our local community today. this is just a reminder to be vigilant, safe, and look out for people around you, especially if they're alone at night. distractions welcome. i really just wanted to reach out and say, please be safe.
INDIE BLITZØ FROM VIVIENNE MEDRANO'S YOUTUBE SERIES, HELLUVA BOSS. UNAFFILIATED WITH THE CREATORS, WRITERS, OR ANIMATORS.
written by lye, they/them, 24 years old, eastern standard time zone. full time law student, full time legal employee over holidays.
no god-modding, force-shipping, pressuring for replies.
my default is regular text and a 100x100 icon from here or here. i match small text.
i am currently multi-verse, multi-ship. i welcome all the timelines.
i am comfortable with pre-established relationships, even some degree of assumed pre-established relationships if obvious from canon or it helps you get things flowing, but do not break the force-shipping rule.
no DNIs. no triggers.
triggers generally tagged as "[word] tw" and "[word]" or as "[word] tw /" on posts of first impression/original posts.
if you have any questions, concerns, or needed tags, please message me. if you want to talk ooc, i fully welcome ooc friendships/writing partner back and forths. feel free to ask for alternate forms of communication (i have beef with tumblr messenger).
no rules password or interaction with this post necessary. i know it was long overdue, so i wanted to make it public before i upload it to my pinned post!
"STOLAS just got fucked SO HARD in his BIRDLIKE ASS."
DEATH'S FACE REMAINS UNCHANGED, unimpressed by ill-tempered hellion. ( really? that's the part he takes offence to? not being called a rabid vermin? ) " ah! it talks. " she bends down so that they are face to face. " tell me, lil' imp, youse wouldn't 'appen t'know anythin' 'bout some o' yer kin causin' trouble in the livin' world, would ya? "
HE CAN'T REALLY DISPUTE THE WHOLE RABID VERMIN THING, IS THE ISSUE, AND HE'S WHOLLY AWARE OF THAT.
Fortunately, Blitzø is used to this line of questioning. He's used to PUSHING IT UNDER THE RUG, regardless of how terrified he is of the entity asking the questions.
"If I knew every single thing that every single imp did in hell, or out of hell, well, that would be crazy! That would just be—I mean—HAHAHAHAHA! HA."
@lcftcult
"Yes, yes, I am very small. NOT WHERE IT COUNTS, OBVIOUSLY. You're not exactly, y'know, EIGHT FEET TALL, yourself."
@hellcab
"WOULD YOU HURRY IT UP, FUCKFACE?!"
Never you mind the fact that Blitzø quite literally JUST slammed the door to the cab shut behind him. He pockets, inexplicably, his massive piece, although he assumes Roth isn't going to have a problem with the presence of a firearm either way.
"It is now currently in both of our best interests to get very, VERY FAR AWAY from this location!"
@yafucknut <;3'd !!
to be COMPLETELY fair, barbie had missed her mark entirely. or rather ( having hastily applied the hand chalk before climbing the platform ) fingertips glided right past the parallel bar as the duo swung by. ( WHICH IS A BIG FUCKING PROBLEM.)
THE STEEL SUPPORT BEAM IS COMING RIGHT FOR HER. " oh, FUCK. " that was gonna leave a mark. not that it would have been the FIRST, cash had always referred to crash mats for the circus floor as ' pussy catchers .'
but just as barbie braces for the impact, the mutual grip of the wrist she has on blitzo begins to SLIP -- ( THAT could be much worse, a fall from twenty feet could really FUCK UP a three-foot-nothing imp ) " do not DROP m-- " the flare of anger hardly has time to bloom into full-fledged RAGE in the fleeting seconds of freefall, because the agony of PILE DRIVING THE FUCKING FLOOR never comes.
" you did that on PURPOSE, you SHITASS !! " the teen is SPUTTERING for a dry breath as she surfaces from the vat of STANDING WATER just on the outskirts of the ring. literally. the buckzo family circus fire contingency plan was a literal 50-gallon drum of water. ( THAT'S AN ACCIDENT WAITING TO HAPPEN. )
" get DOWN here so i can fucking KILL you !! "
CLUMSY FUCKIN' GIRL MISSED HER MARK, AND NOW THAT'S BLITZØ'S PROBLEM???? Hey, hey, hey, fuck his life!
"Don't drop you? DON'T DROP YOU? If you're holding onto me, how am I supposed to also be HOLDING ONTO YOU???"
Nevermind the fact that that's entirely possible, and also, probably exactly what was happening. (So what if he got a little scared of her slamming him into the support beam with her? Can you blame the little thing?)
Blitzo finishes the move perfectly, WITHOUT THE EXTRA DEAD WEIGHT—which does take some adjusting to; he realizes, in some level of his consciousness, how used he is to having Barbie around to assist his parabolic arcs through the air. He stands, petulant, on one of the circus's platforms. His hands are on his hips; little mister boy looks as sassy as can be.
"There is NO WAY I'm coming down there just so you can blame me for something that, by the way, is actually your fault, like you always do! You probably needed the shower, so, y'know, thank Satan for that! Free bathtime during rehearsal, huh? Huuuuh?" He leans against the support beam through the platform.
" Nope . Not at all . But I managed ta get outta there quick . Was wonderin' if ya know where ta get weapons since -- well your job an' all . Jus' so I can defend myself if I have'ta . "
"I have my reSOURCES. I might even be able to help ya out, if you can help me out. Say, what did they boytoy of yours do, anyways?"
@rotdame asked: whose . . . deranged, rabid raccoon is this?
"Listen dollface, I don't belong to ANYTHING OR ANYBODY. You GOT IT?"
"I don't wanna be a SUICIDE PUNK GIRL."
"Well, aren't you fucking a prince? It's almost the same thing." Maybe his smile is a bit cocky, but he deserves it. "Other than size, of course. Just saying."
"That is COMPLETELY uncalled for. Besides, do you really think that feathered fancypants tops me? ME?"
" Nah , shoulda listened to your warning though about my ex showing up 'ere . Saw 'em the other day . Tha' wasn' fun . "
"I told ya, sweetcheeks. I told ya! Bet he wasn't happy to see you, was he?"
