"What In Hell Would Possess You To Neuter Yourself?"

"What in Hell would possess you to neuter yourself?"

Putting this one under a cut and adding a trigger warning for SA & trauma:

"My father sold me like, multiple fucking times when I was a child. And a teenager. And maybe you don't know about the whole birds and the bees thing, but let me tell you, when you're not a willing fucking participant and years later someone tells you oh yeah, remember that one time? Yeah I had a kid. What do you mean what happened to him, I dumped his ass in the Pit. Kind of inspires you to just never--

"I don't--

"I don't want to father any more children. Even the fucking thought of it..." Blitz frowned and shook his head, looking out the window for a long, long time before he finally looked back at Parak. "What happened to me wasn't a one and done thing where it just traumatizes you one fucking time and then you get to forget it. That shit? Never is. For any of us. But when there's a fucking kid involved? It hurts. Every time you think about it. It just... fuck. I don't--

"My kid is almost twenty-two. He's fourteen years younger than me. And every time I think about it, I remember all the shit I didn't want. The fucking hands. The smug look on my dad's fucking face when I'd come home." Blitz looked the same as ever--tense and relaxed at once, angry and careless--but his hands were in tight fists where he had them tucked in against his chest, and his breathing was a little shallower, tighter. Controlled--too controlled. Controlled, because if he didn't keep himself together, he'd fall the fuck apart whenever this shit came up, and Blitz was tired of that. He was so tired of a monster from the past still being able to affect him now. It was bullshit. It always had been and it always would be--

But it being bullshit didn't erase the scars or ease the worst part of it all, the part he could never bring himself to vocalize to anyone: the shame. The deep, choking sense of shame, as if it was somehow his fault, as if it always had been. Logic couldn't ease that shame away. Knowing it wasn't his fault couldn't make it feel any less embarrassing, any less humiliating. So, his face burned, his stomach felt tight, and his heart felt like it was stuttering, but he just kept his gaze fixed out the window.

[context for curious readers who didn't pick it up in his headcanon posts, but Blitz had a vasectomy a long, long time ago, and has no plans to ever reverse it. it's not something he is open to negotiating on, and i as a roleplayer will not be playing any "accidents" happening. Blitz still uses condoms, every time.]

Although by that point the imp was so damn tired he wasn't sure he could stand, he managed to push to his feet. He swayed a little, but kept upright, looking up at Lucifer warily. In his experience, mercy was usually not a gift, it usually came with a worse punishment than one would have expected, just through a more circuitous route... And this was Lucifer he had challenged. Lucifer, who could imagine anything, create anything. Lucifer, who could create endless torments for anyone.

Blitz clenched his fists at his sides. Don't be afraid, he told himself. And don't look away. So, he kept his eyes on Lucifer's--not quite daring to hope yet, because if he hoped, if he let himself really hope that he might make it out of this alive and that Lucifer would do something to help the many species of Hellborn who suffered, then the pain would be too damn much to handle. Hope was the worst emotion, one Blitz had tried to give up a long time ago. It was too heavy to carry and it took such a damn toll on the heart, especially when a heart was already bruised or broken.

But whatever he does to me, it'll be worth it. And I'll take it like a man, Blitz promised himself, determined not to shame either himself or Lucifer by breaking now. He wouldn't beg. He wouldn't grovel. Lucifer had fought him like an equal--and now, it seemed to the imp, he wanted Blitz to stand like one. So, he did. Eyes defiant, chin raised, tail making tired but still defiant little whip motions, Blitz waited to hear his fate.

And all the while, in his heart, a litany repeated: Vizzy. Stolas. Moxxie. Loona. Fizz. Vizzy. Stolas. Moxxie. Loona. Fizz. Millie, Millie, Millie. Vizzy. Stolas. Moxxie. Loona. Fizz. Vizzy. Stolas. Moxxie. Loona. Fizz. Millie, Millie, Millie. Vizzy. Stolas...

He stood over Blitzø wings raised high blood still dripping down , and sliding down his torso , this Imp this creature dared to fight him , dared to suggest he could take on An Archangel , a fallen Archangle , the Light of Hell itself .

And he learned , Lucifer made sure he learned his lesson learned that he was so unmatched compared to him, that he would think twice before daring to challenge him, and even now he was ready for death .

But Death would not come from the Devil today, no this Imp has proved his right to live had impressed the King.

But first—-

Lucifer sent his fire down , however it didn’t strike Blitzø but the gun, melting it to nothing in an instant without touching the Imp.

“Rise Blitzø … you won’t die today .. not by my hand “ he smiled at him.

Maybe this was a mistake. Instinct kept demanding that it was a mistake, that it had to be a mistake, that going to talk to her tonight was only going to end badly for both of them--but that same instinct, Blitz knew, was born out of way too many years of just trying to survive, way too many years of always being at odds with the world, always fighting the world. But now? He didn't want to fight anymore. At least, not against anyone--and not against Vizzy. But damn if the imp wouldn't fight for her... which meant, terrifyingly, that he had to fight himself and his own damn impulses to run.

Dressed simply tonight, in comfortable jeans and a tight but torn white sleeveless top, Blitz didn't entirely blend in as well as he should have, but he still drew a few lingering glances and touches. He ignored all of them, focused on just weaving his way through the crowd to get to her--and trying, desperately fucking trying, to figure out out what the fuck he was going to say to her. Hey girl, you dying inside? Hey babe, what's up, I noticed you looked too long at the abyss and now it's caught you, what's up? Viz, sexy badass, totally still just a fling, I'm worried you're gonna disappear inside yourself one of these days and not going to be able to reach you, so what the fuck, we need to talk? Not really great conversation starters, any of them...

Especially considering that recently, it almost felt like she was suddenly putting the brakes on, suddenly pulling away from him. Which, fuck, Blitz could respect that, he could understand it, and he would respect it--if he didn't get the feeling that for Vizzy, right now, doing that was a form of self-harm. There was something in her eyes, some ache, some kind of loneliness, that if Blitz didn't at least try to reach out and offer a connection for, he was one shit-fuck of a boyfriend. Not to mention, he had seen that beautiful photo on her phone, a moment of love frozen in time and--and what? Held captive by pain? By ghosts and memories? The woman who had been with Viz in the photograph, a Sinner named Dhallia, wasn't around anymore. And not just not around as in not seeing Vizzy, but not around as in, Blitz had used I.M.P's resources to seek this woman out and there just wasn't any sign that she was still alive.

There was, unfortunately, every sign she was dead. And if she was dead, and something to do with that death was fucking Viz up and she was suffering alone? And that was why she was pulling away?

Blitz couldn't let her leap. Not alone.

If she jumped, he would jump with her.

That much was already a given.

He was hers until she told him not to be, and he was going to take that fucking seriously, for once in his life, and be the lover his person deserved.

So although his head was a mess by the time he made it to her, Blitz's heart was sure of this course, at least, and that was something. He walked up to her, gently cupped the back of her head with one muscular hand, and kissed her--slow, loving, but not long enough, not nearly long enough, at least not for him. But the kind of kisses Blitz wanted with her maybe weren't the kind she wanted right now, and he had to respect that.

"Hey, babe." Blitz straddled her lap, resting his wrists on her shoulders. "Working too hard? Or hardly working?"

I love you. Fuck. I'm not going to lose you to depression or trauma or whatever else is happening. If you choose to let me go, that's one thing, but I'm not gonna lose you to the darkness, Viz. Whatever it takes.

Blitz's eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness, but they were focused only on her. However many people might be in there dancing, drinking, and playing away the pain, Blitz saw only one person. Right now, there could be no one else.

(Angsty starter for @doublejango because I have literally ZERO impulse control. X_X -- It was a busy night down at Kingdom Cum, drinks flowing freely and gyrating bodies covering the dance floor and the performance stage alike. Cigarette smoke swirled through the air like church incense and the dark sensuality of the heavy pulsing beats filled the club with an especially vibrant energy that was felt by all. All but one. The club owner, herself, sat at a private booth with an ashtray and half a mai tai on the table in front of her as she watched the throng of partying patrons with a hollow gaze. Even as she sat there in her beloved establishment, surrounded by all the things she loved and had worked so hard to achieve, her mind was miles away--it had all started out so damned simple. Harmless fun, a companion she could turn to when she needed a physical release, be it rampant violence or a heated tussle in the sheets. It had been so uncomplicated and freeing ... until it wasn't. It had been a subtle, insidious little thing at first. Laughing at all his stupid jokes, texting and calling throughout the day about more than just partying and fucking ... and before long, he was occupying her thoughts all the damned time, from the moment she awoke until her head touched the pillow each night. It was all too familiar in the way that he made her feel warm and safe--a paradise that had already been poisoned once before by her own failures. Never again ... she could never risk getting that close again. And yet, as she tried to gently pull away, Visage found herself reeling with the realization of how hard and painful it was to re-establish that emotional distance between them. No matter how much she tried to withdraw, she still found herself instinctively reaching out for him, a yearning that made her chest ache. And the very thought of causing Blitz pain by pushing him away was an unthinkable agony that she couldn't even consider inflicting upon him. The line had become so damned blurred ... but she didn't have it in her to cut him off completely and return to the solitude. What the fuck, then, was she supposed to do...? Well, she was going to need to figure it out sooner rather than later, because unbeknownst to the morose Overlord, a familiar imp was already making his way through the crowd towards her table...

but HOW does Blitzo torture? what would he actually do?

I feel like this isn't a question I can answer on the dash. Valid question, but let's go with: it really depends on what the client actually requested, how Blitz is feeling, and how the victim reacts. You can definitely PM if you have follow-up questions <3 But I'm not sure I want to chat about the specifics of torture on the dash without it being like... in a thread, where there's context, you know?

Just personal rambling and sap under the cut.

I am an absolute potato of a human being. I'm not someone who others compliment in person, ever. I cannot remember the last time someone complimented me about my looks. Back in early January there was a day where I hauled a coworker out of a pit with one arm, because I was holding onto a fence post with the other, and he was just so shocked and said something like, "I didn't know you could do that." Which, considering he was soaked and muddy and one of the sides of the pit was turning into a slurry in the rain, and had been sliding down onto him, seemed very kind that he took the time to say that. But really, that was the last one I could think of, and I'm not sure that counts.

Then yesterday, three different people gave me the same compliment, it was bizarre. All when we were alone together. Two people I knew, one stranger. They all said, and phrased it almost exactly the same way, "you have this glow about you, you look incredible." And it was so fucking weird? It really touched me and meant a lot, even though it took me by surprise. Like, the third was from a stranger, a retired naval officer; we'd been standing there watching the stormy weather approaching, talking about the various crew responses we directed during emergencies, when he turned and said that.

I don't know how to take compliments like that without getting hella awkward, but tried my best. Still, three of that inside like four hours? It was bizarre. A good bizarre, I held it close, because things have felt rough emotionally recently, and since I'm reasonably sure I haven't ingested radium recently I probably wasn't actually glowing.

And then this morning, someone gave me the biggest compliment of all time. I won't name names, bc it was sweet and silly and the best thing but idk how comfy they'd be with me sharing it, but hjdjvjdjfk. As good as the random compliments had felt? There's no comparing to how amazing it feels when someone just does the internet equivalent of grabbing you and saying "we're friends now!" In the sweetest way, and so sincere seeming, and gjdjvje. I'm a mess. But a happy mess? And this is literally the most pointless ramble. But when people are kind... holy fuck, it matters. It matters so much. Kindness matters so much more than I think anyone ever really realizes.

I hope everyone is having a beautiful day!

When a certain someone posts super sweet things--or anything at all, they can come on and just post anything! literally if they were like here is a picture of a blank piece of paper that I like, I would be like oh fuck yeah that's an excellent piece of paper--it brightens my day so much. And not saying that this person made me happy cry this morning but there are tears on my face and I don't know how else they got there so gfdhjklgshdfk

It's such a warm feeling, when you're so freaking excited to see someone that you just like, care whenever they post or are around. Whether it's silly things or sad things or serious things, they show up and you just like, can't stop smiling? It's kind of really freaking great.