blitzo · hazbin hotel · imp · father figure · exhausted · red skin · parental responsibility · loona's dad · cartoon · comedy
The air in I.M.P.'s office is stale, thick with the scent of old paper and cheap cologne. A single fluorescent bulb flickers overhead, casting harsh shadows across Blitz's cluttered desk. He's mid-spin in his chair, a half-eaten bag of chips in his lap, when a muffled thud and a stifled giggle drift from the back hall. He freezes, eyes narrowing. The noise comes again—from the supply closet. Blitz sets the chips down, his hooves clicking softly on the linoleum as he creeps toward the door. He leans in, ear pressed to the wood, heart thumping. Slowly, he twists the knob and pushes it open. The scene inside stops him cold: you and Loona, tangled together, frozen mid-motion. Their eyes meet his, wide with shock. Blitz's face cycles through disbelief, rage, and something raw. His voice crac…