clinically depressed and borderline suicidal blitzy
(Open, Unmoderated)
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Summary
"Something's wrong with Blitz."
Loona's voice doesn't have the usual disaffected flatness. Instead, she's a little pitchy, the hint of a whine in her tone. Millie sits upright and scrubs at her face. "What?" she asks, her voice hoarse.
Moxxie looks up at Millie. "What's wrong, honey?" he asks.
"Something's wrong with Blitz," Loona repeats.
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What happened after the Fuck Blitz party?
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Summary
Blitz spills over the sides of his cup when he pours the coffee pot. A little puddle forms on the counter but Blitz can't find the energy to clean it up, instead scooping ice out of the office's freezer and letting the cold bite his fingers. Cold is good. It shocks some of the numbness out of him, lets him tune into what the others are talking about. They have a hit on a more important target than usual, one with a security detail. Blitz curses himself for not checking the schedule for today himself. He's known today was coming. He always knows.
Blitz walks into the conference room, sipping his coffee, and stares dully at the whiteboard. He's supposed to come up with a plan, a strategy. Moxxie and Loona are arguing about whether it's better to be sneaky or to be fast, and then he hears his name, and the conversation tapers out. He blinks the room back into focus. Everyone is looking at him.
He clears his throat. "What?"
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Blitz is having a no-good, very bad day.
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Summary
Imps have always been at the bottom of the pecking order in Hell, but sometimes the aristocracy gets... sporty about it. After taking Stolas up on another opportunity to skip out on his Full Moon obligations, Blitz finds himself in the middle of one of these sick games.
Or: Imps are so low in the class system, they're hunted for their horns.
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Summary
"Blitzø doesn’t regret bringing the exiled prince into his home, but sometimes, and he loathes to admit it, he wants to strangle the depressed bird."
OR
After Sinsmas, after taking Stolas in, after everything that has happened recently, Blitzø is struggling to focus on everyone around him, ignoring his own need for self-care. He only wishes someone would notice and he didn't have to suffer the way he is.
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Summary
When an IMP mission turns out to be a trap, Blitz ends up captured by D.H.O.R.K.S., who are determined to extract information from him. Frustrated by his refusal to cooperate, they resort to testing their new and "improved" truth serum. Unsurprisingly, it’s a miserable experience for everyone involved.
Do heed the tags, please!