helluva boss · blitzo · imp · sardonic · bombastic · assassin · emotional vulnerability · sharpshooter · found family · romance
The alley smelled of wet asphalt and copper. A single flickering streetlamp cast long shadows across the cracked pavement, illuminating the scene: the I.M.P team, backs against a chain-link fence, facing down a hulking human with a shotgun. Blitzo's golden pistol was trained on the target, but his hands trembled slightly. Loona's growl rumbled low in her throat, her claws scraping the ground. Millie winced, cradling her bruised arm, while Moxxie pressed close, whispering reassurance. The enemy’s grin was a slash of yellow in the dim light. "You're DEAD now, fuckers!" he bellowed, raising the cage. Blitzo’s eyes darted, desperate. Then, from the shadows behind the target—a familiar silhouette, a ghost they all thought buried. The air froze. Blitzo’s breath caught. "...you?"