#stolitz fan fic

[sunny5656]

Stolitz week 2025

Mortality/soulmates promt (warning: sad)

"You know I love you, right?"

They are laying side by side on their bed, in their home. Rings decorate their fingers and dozens of family portraits their walls. The moon is full but they don't see it -they are only looking at each other. Life is good.

"Oh, darling..." Stolas breaths out, "I love you too. More than anything. I simply cannot imagine a life without you anymore."

Blitz's smile turns bittersweet suddenly. "Yeah, me, too... But... what if one day you have to?"

"No!" Stolas doesn't want to this topic to sneak into their conversation, not now. "I don't wanna think about that... not now, please."

"Shit. You're right. I'm sorry... happy thoughts?"

Blitz's smile is warm again as he catches his husband's hand and squeezes thight.

Stolas blinks the forming tears away, nodding. "Yes, please."

Blitz shifts closer to Stolas, nuzzling his face on those silky soft chest feathers. "Wanna go see the M&M baby tomorrow? Mills told me she learned to "kick some ass" or something."

Stolas chuckles at that, happy at how the athmosphere has immediately changed. Oh, what kind of chaotic, funny, delightful person their satandaughter was growing up into. "Oh, my! Then we simply must to! Actually, I have some new books I've been wanting to read her!"

Now it's Blitz's turn to chuckle. "Pffft...nerd."

"Maybe..." Stolas raises his eyebrow, "But I'm your nerd."

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"You know I love you, right?"

It's one of those sleepless nights again. They are laying on their bed, in their home, and faint marks of the years past decorate the corners of Blitz's eyes and the sides of his mouth. He has been smiling and laughing a lot during all these years with Stolas.

"Oh, dearest. I do know that." Stolas says, "And I love you. Forever."

"R-really?" Blitz asks carefully, his eyes gleaming with a mix of hope and worry. "Even after I'm-"

"Blitz!" Stolas doesn't let him finish this time either, "Blitzy, please. Don't say that. Don't you even dare think about that. I- I'm too..."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Stols." Blitz quickly says, brushing it off by a warm smile and a firm squeeze of his hand. "Happy thoughts?"

"Happy thoughts." Stolas agrees.

"Remember that one mission we went on to together, just the two of us...?"

Stolas blushes immediately at the memory, recalling back at the time he remembers very well. "Oh, I do... If I remember correctly, we got barely anything done~"

"Oooh I did something alright. Or someone."

Blitz winks an eye, and Stolas' feathers puff out like he had just fallen in love for the first time -which he did, every single day.

"And..." Blitz continued, wiggling his eyebrows and disappearing slowly under the covers, "I think I'll do that someone again right now."

"Ooooh yes please~"

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"You know I love you, right?"

His voice has deepened, and so have the wrinkles on his face, but he looks still ever so handsome as always. They lay on their bed once again, in their home. Their daughters had visited them earlier, and they had spent the most wonderful evening playing board games and watching movies.

"Of course I do, darling." Stolas answers softly, "And I love you, always."

"Me too, pretty bird. Even when I'll be- nevermind."

Silence surrounds them for a while, but this time Stolas is ready. He sighs deeply and with a pout and scared look in his eyes he says:

"No, it's okay, Blitz. I think I'm ready to talk about it."

"Oh." Blitz shifts closer, and so does Stolas, "Oh, okay."

"I just... I'm really, very scared. I don't know what I would do without you here by my side..."

There's already tears in his eyes, but they are quickly swiped away by Blitz's trembling hands.

"You'll do plenty. You'll water your plants, and drink some tea, and read your favorite books. And you'll be sad, I know you will. B-but..."

Now Blitz's own eyes fill with involuntarily tears.

"But I hope you will smile too. I- I need you to smile! Fuck, if- if you will end up some numb ghost of this person I know right now, I fucking refuse to die!"

"Blitz..." Stolas reaches out, gently cupping the imp's face.

"Stolas..." Blitz leans into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment to get the tears out.

"I fear I cannot smile without you in my life." Stolas admits. He would love to tell his husband that yes, he will smile and find happiness in the little things of his life, but how can he, when the biggest one will be gone.

"Then I refuse."

Stolas forces a fragile smile besides his almost broken heart already at the mere thought.

"We will find a way. I'm not letting it happen." He assures, "In this life or in the next, fuck it -even in the afterlife- we will be together. Just like this."

Blitz's lips start to tremble and he holds onto Stolas' like his life would end here and now if he didn't.

"....Happy thoughts?" This time he's the one to ask.

"Sure. Happy thoughts." Stolas agrees, "Remember how I won the game today?"

Blitz laughs between his tear-filled face. "Umm, what I remember is you begging me wordlessly to let you with those fucking doe eyes!"

"Oh you mean these~?"

Blitz's heart skips a beat at the sight and his tears turn to happy ones.

"Yes. Those." He whispers, capturing his love in a deep kiss. "I love those."

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For so many nights to come they will lay side by side, just like this. And for so many mornings they will wake up next to each other, and eat breakfast together, and go for holidays together, and argue and cry and kiss and laugh and make love.

And when -if- the day comes they will not be doing that, Stolas will still find Blitz in everything he does. He will be in the trees, especially the one's that grow stubbornly where they shouldn't. And he will be in the breeze of a wind, playing with Stolas' feathers just like before. He will be the moon looking down from the skies and the sunlight and all the stars waving at him from beyond the galaxies. And he will be the mundane, the coffee that wakes Stolas up in the mornings and all the heroes in the books he reads, and all the times when someone fiercely stands up for themself or their loved ones.

But for now, they lay side by side on their bed in their home, true love decorating their heart shaped eyes.

[scribbly-artist]

Making Things Right

Summary: Two weeks after the trial, Stolas is still in Blitz’ home, wasting away. Blitz feels shitty and undeserving for what Stolas sacrificed for him. The least he could do is try to make Stolas feel a little bit better.

Author’s Notes: This came outta NOWHERE. But I needed to get this out of my system because it was all I could think about, and Mastermind made me sad. :( They deserve to be happy. I think after all that happened, and now that they’re on the same level, that they can repair what they broke.

I might have been somewhat inspired by this artwork to make this, even unconsciously. It wasn’t my intent, but it happened. Hoping Blitz and Stolas don’t sound OOC because I’ve never written for them before. I feel like after the recent episodes that Blitz would be more soft and considerate of what he’s saying. My first Helluva Boss fic too!!

Words: ~1,400 | AO3 Link

It had been two weeks since the trial of breaking demon law was cast across every TV in Hell. Blitz was ready to sacrifice his life for his cause, and so that his family and friends - Loona, Moxxie and Millie - weren't harmed for just doing their jobs. 

What he didn't expect was for Stolas to magically appear at the trial, and for him to throw everything away instead. 

Blitz couldn't lie; he was extremely grateful that Stolas did this for him. Stolas took all of the blame, and even if it angered him that Stolas took the brute force of it, at least Blitz still had his head. Albeit, he was feeling extremely shitty about the whole ordeal. 

But Stolas lost everything. His power, his family, his status. Blitz wasn't even sure if Stolas had the heart to contact Octavia after all of this. He had hardly heard him spoke in general across these past two weeks, which broke his heart. 

He felt awful about all of this. Sure, giving the imp race new-found power was nice, he supposed. Everytime he went outside over the past couple days, fellow imps cheered for him, stopping him to congratulate him everywhere he went. And he got a whole lot more business now. He wasn't used to it. But, it didn't feel great to know this was only coming about after Stolas sacrificed himself. 

Blitz returned home with a few paper bags full of groceries wrapped up in his arms, only just managing to shove his key in the door and twisting it to open the lock. He kicked the door open with his foot, bumping it closed with his hip as he stepped into his apartment. 

“Stolas, I'm back.” Blitz spoke aloud, though he knew Stolas wouldn't answer. He could see Stolas’ legs hanging off the edge of the couch, as it was much too small for him. Blitz didn't even see Stolas shift upon his arrival. 

Blitz paced to the kitchen, setting the bags on the countertop and stepping over to the couch where Stolas laid. He placed his hand on the top of the couch as he gazed down.

Stolas was wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito, eyes open as he watched the TV. Was he even really ‘watching’ it? Or just staring at it? Blitz frowned at the sight before him. He made his way to the front of the couch, sitting on it near Stolas’ legs.

“…” Stolas didn’t react to Blitz’s presence. Didn’t even shift.

“…I feel so fucking awful that all of this happened to you, Stolas,” Blitz let out a breath he was holding. “And I’m sorry for all the shit that happened that got you into this mess.”

Stolas finally shifted, acknowledging the imp’s presence by snaking his hand out of the safety of the blanket, weakly holding it out. Blitz took Stolas’ hand in his own, giving it a squeeze.

“But I wanna make it right. We need to make it right. Let everyone know that pompous shithead of a bird orchestrated all of this.”

Stolas gently moved himself so he was sitting more upright, his eyes finally looking at Blitz. His eyes were distant. Unfocused. Foggy.

“I’m so, so grateful you did this for me, Stolas. And I don’t even deserve it after everything I’ve put you through. I’ll probably be spending the rest of my life paying you back. I didn’t deserve your generosity, your kindness. Your love. I’ve been the worst fucking person to you, and I regret it. I’m the lowest of the low. But, I wanna make this right. If you’ll let me.” He let his emotions pour out through his words, his voice wavering.

The owl had tears in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks. He sniffled. “Thank you… so much, Blitz…” Stolas’ voice was quiet. “I’m glad I have at least someone on my side…”

Blitz reached his hands out, cupping Stolas’ face and wiping his tears away with his thumbs. “Anything to undo the mistakes I’ve made. And to make you smile again.”

The owl’s heart swelled as the imp spoke. He was being genuine, for the first time. Stolas gave Blitz a small smile, the first one in quite a while even before this whole ordeal. But Blitz wasn’t satisfied with how small it was.

“C’monnnn, you can totally fucking do better than that.” The imp teased the owl, grinning.

“That’s all I can really muster right now… really…” his face leaned into Blitz’s warm hands. 

Blitz’s grin only grew wider, the cogs in his brain turning. He had an idea. “Well, why don’t I help ya out?” Blitz’s hands left Stolas’ face in search of the blanket wrapped around Stolas’s body, digging around for an opening.

Stolas’ eyes widened in alarm, knowing exactly what he was up to. “Wait, r-really Blitz, you don’t need to dO THIS—!”

The owl let out a yelp and immediately bit his lip as the imp managed to find his ribs through the blankets and feathers. Blitz’s ready hands latched on and started squeezing them as Stolas gawked, but was able to silence himself. He grabbed onto Blitz’ wrists, squirming about as Blitz tickled him.

Blitz chuckled as he continued, his fingers rummaging through Stolas’ soft feathers. “You might as well let it all out. I know you need this right now.” 

Stolas shook his head in denial, laughter threatening to bubble out from his throat. 

“Well, suit yourself.” 

Blitz started to tickle whenever he could reach - under his arms, counting his ribs, wiggling along his sides, scratching at his belly. He was surprised Stolas could last this long without exploding, though he looked close. Stolas’ face was as red as Blitz’s skin at this point.

Blitz stopped for a moment, Stolas quickly took in greedy breaths. “Satan Christ, there must be somewhere that’ll break you,” his eyes darted around Stolas’ body for more ideas. When Blitz turned his body around to face the lower half of Stolas’ body, the owl started to freak out.

“No no no no, BLITZ, do NOT even TRY!” Stolas begged, raising his voice. Blitz smirked devilishly as he eyed off Stolas’ knees. He leaned over - going for the kill - squeezing just above his kneecaps.

The dam broke, Stolas couldn’t hold it in anymore. He burst out with a mix of laughter and hoots as his body shook. He thrashed about, kicking his legs and bucking his body.

It was hard for Blitz to hang on. He stretched and wrapped his tail around Stolas’ body, both to stabilise himself, and to use his tail to poke into the owl’s sides. Stolas’ laugh just evolved to be more screechy at that. 

“BLITZ!! It’s toohohohoho mUCH! I’m— I’m SMILING! I’M SMIHIHIHILING!! OKAHAHA?!” Stolas laughed himself silly, new tears forming in his eyes. Mirthful tears.

The imp turned his head to look at the owl’s face, laughing himself as he slowly ceased to a stop on his totally unwarranted assault. He stopped squeezing his knees and poking him, shifting himself around with a wide smile on his own face. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Lettin’ it all out?”

“I suppose it— hehehe, wasn’t… awful… hahaha…” Stolas admitted as he breathed out, residual giggles escaping him. He reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes, the stretched smile still lingering on his face. “Ahaha… t-thank you, Blitz…”

“Anytime,” Blitz chuckled with a smirk as he got up from the couch with renewed vigour. “How about I make you somethin’ to eat? Probably tired after all that. Wanna help?” He stretched his hand out in offering.

Stolas wiped the remainder of the tears from his eyes, nodding as he accepted his hand in his. “I’m afraid I’m not the best cook - all I can really make is a bowl of cereal.”

“Eh, I’m shit at it too. I usually get Loonie to make food. She’s a lot fucking better than me at it. I nearly lit the apartment on fire once.”

Stolas let out a giggle as he was led by the hand to the kitchen.

Finally, a step in the right direction.

[poisonedace]

How to Lose a Kingdom in Ten Screams

5001 words | Teen | One-Shot AO3: Poisoned Ace Story Link: How to Lose a Kingdom in Ten Screams

Lucifer expected a prophecy. Instead, he found royal incompetence, stolen thrones, and a peacock with delusions of grandeur. Determined to restore order, he reinstates Stolas’s power—and lets him handle his traitorous relatives however he sees fit. Cue one eldritch horror, two screaming nobles, and a chase scene so humiliating it makes the headliner for 666 News. Meanwhile, Blitzo mouths off to the King of Hell, Loona gets in a final roast, and Stella and Andrealphus learn the hard way why you don’t mess with Stolas. Royalty has never been more dramatic… or more embarrassing.

😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈

How to Lose a Kingdom in Ten Screams

😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈🔥😈

Lucifer paced the length of his suite at the Hazbin Hotel, irritation flickering across his sharp features. The dim glow of the infernal city outside cast jagged, shifting shadows as he moved. Frustration gnawed at his patience, consuming his thoughts so much so that he barely noticed when his foot struck something small and rubbery—

A loud quack echoed through the room as a cherished rubber duck shot across the floor, hitting the wall with an indignant bounce.

Lucifer exhaled slowly through his nose, pinching the bridge of his nose. Today was already testing him.

It had been too long since he had received a prophecy—far too long. He had tolerated incompetence from the Goetia bloodline before Stolas, dismissing their supposed gifts as laughable at best. But Stolas was different. Stolas had true celestial sight. He had foreseen Alastor’s fate only a year after the boy had been born. And while Lucifer hadn’t been able to prevent the inevitable, that vision had given him a chance—a rare opportunity to try and save Alastor’s soul. No other had done as much since his own descent into Hell.

And yet now, now, the owl dared to neglect his duty.

Lucifer’s fingers twitched, the air around him crackling with suppressed power. He would not stand for this level of irresponsibility. If Stolas would not come to him with new visions, then Lucifer would go to him.

With a sharp flick of his wrist, a portal tore open before him, its edges lined with crackling, fiery light. Without hesitation, he stepped through, prepared to remind the Goetia prince exactly where his priorities should lie.

When Lucifer emerged into the grand halls of the Goetia palace, his gaze immediately narrowed at the sight before him. He stood outside what was once Stolas’s lavish office. What had been a thing of beauty filled with celestial texts and personal portraits was utterly transformed. Gaudy, self-indulgent decorations now overshadowed the regal blues and silvers that once adorned the space. Every single portrait of Stolas, even those with his daughter, had been removed—replaced instead with portraits of Andrealphus, well, the same portrait of him over and over again.

Lucifer’s gaze swept over the room, his irritation cooling into something sharper, more dangerous.

Seated comfortably in the spot that once held Stolas’s desk were Stella and Andrealphus, lounging as if they owned the place. Stella smirked at Lucifer’s arrival, clearly relishing in whatever power she believed she now wielded.

Lucifer’s voice cut through the silence, sharp as a blade. “I demand to see Prince Stolas. Immediately.”

Stella let out a delighted, mocking laugh while Andrealphus merely smirked, idly flicking open his fan. “Oh, dear King,” Stella purred, her tone dripping with false sympathy. “That won’t be possible.”

Lucifer’s expression did not change, but the air in the room grew heavier. “And why, exactly, is that?”

Andrealphus, ever the smug fool, leaned forward. “By royal decree, Stolas’s powers have been transferred to me until Octavia comes of age. It seems my dear ex-brother-in-law made the foolish mistake of giving his grimoire to a lowly imp.”

Lucifer let the words settle like dust, his gaze dragging over Andrealphus as if assessing something spoiled beyond redemption. Then, raising a single brow, he asked in a voice full of unimpressed boredom, “Do you even know how to read prophecies?”

Before Andrealphus could sputter out a response, a voice from the hallway scoffed.

“I know more about reading prophecies than he does,” Octavia muttered as she walked into the room, arms crossed. She barely spared the gathered group a glance before continuing in a deadpan voice, “And I only started really learning about a year or two ago.”

Lucifer turned to her, intrigued. “And?”

Octavia sighed, taking out her headphones. “And they aren’t very accurate. Sometimes, they’re vague or completely off the mark. The ones that actually wind up being true? Maybe an hour into the future. If we’re really, really lucky."

Lucifer exhaled sharply through his nose, something between a laugh and a sigh. He turned back to Andrealphus, his unimpressed expression deepening. “Utterly worthless,” he muttered under his breath before fixing the peacock with a pointed stare. “I’ve seen lesser imps with more capability.”

Andrealphus bristled. “Now, see here—”

Lucifer cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Enough. You’ve wasted more than enough of my time already.” His crimson eyes flicked back to Octavia. “Where is your father?”

Octavia hesitated for only a moment before sighing. “He’s in Imp City. Living with his boyfriend and his daughter.”

Lucifer’s brow lifted slightly. “His boyfriend?”

Octavia nodded, crossing her arms tighter.

Lucifer studied her for a moment before pressing further. “What happened?”

Octavia sighed heavily, as though she’d had to repeat the story too many times. “Blitz was put on trial to be executed because they,” she made a gesture towards her mother and uncle. “claimed he stole Dad’s grimoire, but Dad got there and stopped the execution, telling them it was him who was at fault. As a result, he lost custody of me, and the council stripped his powers and royal status for 100 years.”

Lucifer’s gaze darkened, the weight of his displeasure pressing down on the room like a physical force. “They accused an imp of stealing what was freely given?” His tone was unreadable, but something was simmering beneath the surface. Yes, Stolas shouldn’t have given the grimoire for use to lower hell-born beings; that was a given, but Lucifer had a feeling it was a petty move by Satan that really was the cause behind this more than anything else. He could never let a chance go to get one over on Lucifer, and he knew how much Lucifer had come to rely on Stolas. 

Octavia nodded as she gestured around the office, her lip curling. “And this is what they replaced him with.”

Lucifer muttered to himself, shaking his head. “I really need to start keeping abreast of what is happening in the court system and royal circles…” He exhaled sharply before waving a hand dismissively at Andrealphus. “Get dressed and meet me back here.”

Andrealphus blinked in surprise but, after a glance at Stella, left the room in a huff. Lucifer took a slow breath, rolling his shoulders as he steeled himself for the inevitable headache to come. He did not enjoy handling incompetence, and the fact that it had infected the court to such a degree was maddening. He tapped his fingers against his arm, waiting impatiently as the minutes dragged on.

When Andrealphus returned, dressed in something more presentable but no less ostentatious, Lucifer didn’t bother hiding his impatience. He gestured at the grimoire with a flick of his fingers. “Let’s see if you’re as incompetent, sorry, as competent as Satan seemed to think you were.” 

Andrealphus hesitated before flipping open the book, his fingers twitching as he mumbled incantations under his breath. The process was slow and clumsy. He fumbled through the words. His voice lacked any conviction. With each failed attempt, Lucifer’s expression darkened. The portal remained stubbornly closed.

Lucifer’s patience wore thin. His lip curled, and with an exasperated sigh, he finally snapped, “Completely inept.”

Andrealphus’s feathers bristled, and he straightened indignantly. “This is—”

“A complete waste of time. I agree.” Lucifer cut him off, his voice colder than before. He turned toward the grimoire, eyes flickering with frustration. “If you were even remotely competent, a portal would have been open ten minutes ago.” He pinched the bridge of his nose before stepping away from the desk. His gaze flicked to Octavia. “You try.”

Octavia stepped forward, taking a steadying breath before focusing on the book. Unlike Andrealphus, her motions were careful and deliberate. Within moments, the portal flared to life, shimmering with celestial energy.

Lucifer tilted his head slightly, observing her work. “Acceptable,” he murmured, though there was the faintest trace of approval in his voice. He glanced at Andrealphus once more, unimpressed. “Perhaps you should take notes.”

Andrealphus scowled but said nothing, his feathers ruffling in agitation. Lucifer, however, had already lost interest in him. His gaze returned to the portal where Octavia was stepping through, following her. She led them to the location Stolas had instructed her to go to read prophecies. However, as she gazed at the space before them, confusion crept across her features. 

“I… I don’t understand what I’m seeing.”

Lucifer took in the sight, silent for a long moment. Though gentler with her than he had been with Andrealphus, he finally admitted, “You have potential. But you still have much to learn.” His gaze flicked over to the stars and planets above them, calculating. “This will not suit my needs.”

He rubbed his temple as though he’d been dealing with an endless headache. The weight of incompetence and betrayal pressed down on him, and he was quickly growing weary of it. He exhaled sharply before straightening his posture, his imposing presence filling the space.

“Take me to your father. We will be fixing this immediately.” His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge of authority that left no room for argument.

Octavia nodded without hesitation, stepping back through determinedly and putting the grimoire back on its stand with a sense of finality. The weight of the book settled heavily, as though acknowledging that its rightful owner would soon return. 

She lifted her hands, channeling energy as she began to open a portal to the I.M.P offices, the swirling magic crackling in the air. But before it could fully solidify—

A sharp, indignant voice pierced the chamber.

“You can’t just—” Andrealphus began, pushing himself forward, his feathers puffed up in false bravado. His fan trembled in his grip, the delicate fabric crumbling with agitation. But the moment Lucifer’s crimson gaze landed on him, the peacock demon faltered.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the very air pressing in like an invisible weight. Lucifer hadn’t spoken a word, and yet his very presence radiated an unspoken command—one of absolute, unchallenged dominance.

Andrealphus’s voice died in his throat, a pathetic strangled sound escaping as he instinctively took a step back, almost tripping over the lounge chair he had put in place of Stolas’s desk.

But Stella was not so easily silenced.

“She is not to see or have contact with her father! This is completely unacceptable!” Stella hissed, her heels clacking furiously against the polished marble floor as she lunged for Octavia. Her talons closed around Octavia’s wrist, gripping tightly as she attempted to yank her away from the portal.

Octavia hissed and tried to pull her wrist from her mother’s grasp, but before she could wrench herself free—

Lucifer moved. Faster than a shadow. With a mere flick of his wrist, an invisible force seized Stella’s arm mid-motion, freezing her in place.

A heavy silence fell over the chamber, suffocating in its intensity. The very walls seemed to tremble as though Hell itself was holding its breath.

Lucifer turned slowly, his gaze now fixed solely on Stella.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… His eyes burned. Red, deep, and unrelenting—like an inferno trapped behind glass, waiting to be unleashed.

The force pinning Stella in place wasn’t painful, not yet, but it carried an unmistakable message: One more step, and she would regret it.

Stella’s breath hitched. For the first time in her wretched existence, she hesitated.

Lucifer hadn’t laid a single hand on her, yet it felt as though a blade was pressed against her throat.

“Release. Her.”

The words were not shouted. 

They were not a request.

They were law.

A slow, strangled growl escaped Stella’s lips, but she had no choice. The invisible force constraining her limbs tightened ever so slightly, a subtle but unmistakable warning.

With a furious sneer, she let go.

Octavia immediately stepped back, rubbing her wrist as she shook off her mother’s touch. Her feathers bristled, but her expression remained composed. If anything, there was something like satisfaction in her sharp violet eyes.

Lucifer exhaled slowly. The oppressive energy in the room eased just enough for Stella to stumble backward. The moment she was free, she clutched her arm as if Lucifer’s mere presence had burned her.

She dared to glare at him.

Lucifer simply smiled. A slow, knowing, thoroughly unimpressed smile.

“You think you’re untouchable,” Stella sneered, rubbing her wrist. “Enjoy your little victory, King Lucifer. Because when you least expect it, I’ll be there to take it back.”

Lucifer gave her an amused glance. “Oh, Stella,” he sighed, so very bored, “I already had enemies. You, however, are becoming less relevant by the second.”

Stella’s feathers bristled, her talons curling into fists, but no further words came. Andrealphus, still lingering near the chair, seemed to shrink under the weight of it all, eyes darting between his sister and the King of Hell.

Lucifer adjusted his cufflinks as though nothing had happened and casually glanced in their direction. “Don’t get comfortable,” He finally said, his voice smooth yet foreboding. The quiet power behind it sent an involuntary shudder through the room. “You two won’t be here for much longer.”

Andrealphus swallowed hard, his feathers ruffling in pure, unfiltered anxiety. He had seen many nobles fall from grace over the years, but never had he felt that same fate creeping toward him.

Stella clenched her jaw, but the fire in her eyes had dulled—she knew she had lost.

The portal flared brighter, the arcane energy solidifying as it showed the I.M.P reception desk on the other side. Octavia, not sparing her mother another glance, stepped through without hesitation.

Lucifer followed right behind her.

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The reception, usually buzzing with activity, fell into stunned silence at the sight of their unexpected guests.

Loona, who had been lazily scrolling on her phone, nearly dropped it, her eyes widening in alarm. Moxxie and Millie froze mid-conversation, exchanging wary glances.

Blitzo, who had been rifling through a stack of papers by the filing cabinets, tensed immediately, his tail flicking behind him in sharp, agitated sways. His crimson eyes darted between Octavia and Lucifer, his entire stance shifting into something defensive before he even registered what he was doing.

Without thinking, his hand instinctively reached out, fingers grazing Octavia’s sleeve—a protective gesture, an unspoken stay behind me.

Octavia’s eyes wandered down to him, freezing on his tail. She had been around him and other imps enough to recognize the movement for what it was—not just agitation but unease. The sharp, restless flicks were the telltale sign of someone ready to lash out or bolt.

She moved past his hand, stepping lightly toward Loona. The hellhound barely spared her a glance, but the flick of Loona’s ear was all the acknowledgment needed.

Now positioned just behind him, Octavia looked around and frowned when she noticed her father wasn’t in the room.

Blitzo, reassured by her movement, squared his shoulders and planted himself firmly between Lucifer and the others. His arms crossed over his chest, his stance widening ever so slightly—not backing down, not bowing.

“Well, this is new,” Blitzo muttered, his voice dripping with snark, though there was an undercurrent of tension beneath it. “What’s the King of Hell doing slumming it in Imp City?”

Lucifer barely acknowledged the imp’s hostility, his gaze sweeping the office before landing back on Blitzo. “I’m here to speak with Prince Stolas.”

Blitzo quirked a brow, unimpressed. “Well, he’s not here.”

Lucifer’s gaze narrowed slightly. “When will he be back?”

Blitzo gave a dramatic shrug, feigning ignorance. “Dunno, he—”

The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention, and Blitzo’s expression changed in an instant. “STOLAS!” he called in an exaggerated tone, dragging out the name.

Stolas, who had just walked in holding five cups, paused mid-step, his expression puzzled. Before he could react, Blitzo quickly snatched the drinks from his hands and ushered him behind the reception desk, keeping himself firmly between the owl and Lucifer.

“Back so soon?” Blitzo asked, flashing Stolas an overly cheerful grin.

Stolas blinked in confusion, looking around until his gaze landed on Octavia and Lucifer. His expression immediately softened, and he moved past Blitzo without hesitation toward his daughter.

“Sire? Starfire?” Stolas’s voice was laced with concern. “What are you doing here?”

He barely gave Lucifer a second glance before pulling Octavia into a tight embrace. He pressed a firm kiss to her forehead before he began to look over. “Are you okay?” he murmured, holding her close once finished.

Lucifer, however, was not one to waste time. He cleared his throat, drawing Stolas’s attention back to him before Octavia could answer. “I tracked you down because I noticed you’ve been neglecting your duties,” he said plainly. “I need some things looked into.”

Blitzo scoffed loudly, his tail flicking. “How the fuck do you expect him to do that when he lost his powers?” he snapped. “He’s about as strong as a run-of-the-mill imp now.”

Stolas sighed, casting Blitzo a side glance. “Thank you, Blitzo,” he muttered before turning back to Lucifer. “He isn’t wrong, however, Sire. I can no longer perform my duties. That responsibility has been passed to Andrealphus—for the time being.”

“Yes, and I’ve deemed that completely unacceptable.”

Octavia snorted beside him. “He couldn’t even get the portal open.”

Stolas hooted, clearly amused by that turn of events. “Well, as sorry as I am, Sire. There’s, unfortunately, nothing I can do. I can perhaps try to read the stars, but without my powers, I can’t promise their validity.”

Lucifer folded his hands behind his back, his crimson gaze locked onto Stolas. His voice was smooth and measured yet carried the weight of absolute authority. “I am willing to overturn the ruling and restore your powers and status.” The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. 

Stolas gave a wary glance downward at Blitzo, his feathers ruffling in mild agitation. He knew Lucifer well enough to understand that nothing came without a cost. His talons flexed slightly against the floor.

“At the cost of his life?” Stolas asked, his voice firm. “Absolutely not.”

Lucifer let out a small, amused breath through his nose, his expression unreadable. “No. All I ask is that you continue to read prophecies for me, although I’ll be happy to see how Octavia progresses. She’s not quite there yet, but she will be soon enough under your tutelage.”

Stolas’s talons tapped lightly against his arm, considering.

“Sire, respectfully,” he began carefully, “if this is about Alastor or Lilith, I haven’t seen much since her disappearance.”

“That is part of it,” Lucifer admitted, inclining his head. “But I also wanted to check in on the sinners in Charlie’s hotel.”

At that, Stolas visibly stiffened. His grip on Octavia’s shoulders tightened, and his usually composed expression faltered for just a second.

Charlie’s Hotel. The rehabilitation project.

He was no fool—he knew what Lucifer really meant. He wasn’t just checking in. He was assessing a threat.

Blitzo, sharp enough to catch the shift in Stolas’s demeanor, narrowed his eyes and stepped forward.

"Alright, alright, enough with the cryptic power-trip talk," Blitzo muttered, stepping directly between Lucifer and Stolas, his arms crossed. "Listen, Your Shiny-ness, Stolas has been through enough without you piling on.”

Lucifer raised a single, curious brow at the imp’s audacity. He glanced at Stolas as if waiting for him to correct this blatant disrespect.

Stolas didn’t.

Lucifer’s smirk deepened slightly, entertained by the boldness.

“You may have the prince wrapped around your finger, but don’t think for a second you’re untouchable.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “You’re not the first royal to tell me that, and you won’t be the last.”

Lucifer exhaled, not annoyed—more amused than anything else. He honestly did not know what Stolas saw in this crude little imp, but he had to admit: he had nerve.

“What do you think, Blitz?”

Blitzo, seemingly unbothered by the literal King of Hell, casually took a sip from his coffee and muttered, “Well, if this means fewer royal messes for me to clean up, then whatever. Just don’t let him boss you around too much.”

Stolas smiled at Blitzo, a genuine, fond expression crossing his face. “I’ll do my best, my love.”

Lucifer, watching the interaction, tilted his head ever so slightly. His smirk faded just for a second.

Not out of anger.

Not out of disapproval.

But because he saw something he hadn’t expected. Something that shouldn’t exist in Hell between two Hellborns.

Or so he thought. 

Lucifer’s gaze flickered back to Stolas, studying him for a long, contemplative moment. The old Stolas would have never spoken to him this way.

He smiled to himself as he adjusted his cuffs. Then, at last, he inclined his head. “As safe as he can be in Hell,” he finally said.

Blitzo scoffed, dismissing the statement. Stolas, however, understood the weight of that statement. Lucifer wouldn’t step in if they found themselves in trouble again.

With a dramatic gesture, Lucifer summoned a burst of infernal energy, restoring Stolas to his full glory. Stolas was lifted into the air. His body was engulfed in a swirling maelstrom of dark and celestial energy. His feathers shimmered with renewed vibrancy as the power surged through him, his form momentarily glowing with an ethereal light. Magic crackled outward, sending tremors through the room before retracting back into him in a final, controlled pulse. His aura intensified, commanding and formidable, visibly intimidating everyone in the room—except Blitzo, who merely raised an eyebrow.

Stolas landed gracefully, rolling his shoulders as he tested the power coursing through him. He had forgotten how it truly felt—magic thrumming through his veins, his body humming with restored strength. For the first time in months, he felt whole. 

“It’s good to be back,” he murmured, glancing toward Lucifer with a smile. “What would you like me to look into, Sire?”

“That can wait,” Lucifer said smoothly, adjusting his cuffs. “First, let’s get your palace back.”

~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Later, in the Goetia palace, Stolas, now in his full eldritch form, cackled as he chased Stella and Andrealphus through the halls. The two screeched in terror, fleeing in nothing but their robes as Stolas’s glowing eyes and writhing shadows sent them sprinting through the corridors of his reclaimed palace.

The once-pristine marble floors were now scuffed with clawed footprints, the tall gothic windows rattled with the sheer force of his booming laughter and the once-mighty noble heirs of the Goetia line? Reduced to shrieking buffoons in half-tied robes.

Andrealphus, feathers ruffled in a complete mess, shrieked as his talons slapped against the cold marble. He was moving at a speed that would have been impressive—if it weren’t for the fact that he kept tripping over his own absurdly long robe.

Behind him, Stella clutched at her disheveled silk garment, her feathers bouncing wildly as she shoved Andrealphus forward. “MOVE, YOU IMBECILE!” she screeched, eyes darting wildly behind her. “HE’S RIGHT BEHIND US—OH SATAN’S SAGGY LEFT—HE’S GAINING!”

“You think I DON’T KNOW THAT?!” Andrealphus wailed, scrambling forward like a frightened peacock trying to take flight.

But it was no use.

Stolas, in his full eldritch form, wasn’t even running.

He stalked after them at a leisurely, predatory pace, his talons clicking against the floor like a ticking clock counting down their doom. His massive wings cast dark shadows against the walls, shifting and writhing like living creatures. From those shadows, phantom-like tendrils slithered out, curling around doorframes and reaching toward his fleeing prey, just enough to make them scream louder.

His glowing, violet eyes gleamed with mischief, not malice. This? This was FUN.

“Oh,” Stolas cooed mockingly, his many eyes blinking at different intervals. “Why so frightened? I simply wish to have a little chat about—oh, I don’t know—THE WAY YOU TRIED TO RUIN MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE?”

Andrealphus let out a high-pitched yelp, his voice cracking. “IT WASN’T PERSONAL, STOLAS—JUST POLITICS!”

Stella, in a rare moment of honesty, shrieked, “IT WAS EXTREMELY PERSONAL!”

“Ah, good,” Stolas chirped, his shadows darting forward, snapping at their ankles like mischievous puppies. “Then I hope you’ll take this personally.”

With a graceful leap, Stolas landed directly behind them, his massive wings whooshing as they spread wide.

Andrealphus, in sheer panic, threw his fan at him.

Stolas caught it midair between two of his talons. Then, with a dramatic snap, he broke it in half. The cracking sound echoed through the palace like the final nail in Andrealphus’s coffin.

Andrealphus gasped as if he had just witnessed a murder.

“MY FAN!” he wailed, devastated. “That was handcrafted and imported from Earth!”

“I know,” Stolas smirked. “I gifted it to you. How ungrateful of you to use it against me.”

Andrealphus let out a strangled sob.

Stella rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. “GET OVER IT AND KEEP RUNNING, YOU PRANCING MORON—”

She never finished her sentence.

Because at that exact moment, the floor suddenly gave way beneath them.

Or rather—Stolas made it give way.

The shadows lurched beneath their feet, sending both Stella and Andrealphus into a cartoonishly clumsy tumble as they tumbled ass-over-teakettle down a grand staircase.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Stella screeched. Andrealphus squawked. Their robes tangled around them as they tumbled downward, limbs flailing, looking less like regal nobility and more like a pair of drunk aristocrats rolling out of a carriage.

By the time they reached the bottom, Stella landed with her robe half over her face, her long feathers broken and misplaced, and Andrealphus?

Flat on his back. Staring at the ceiling. Wheezing.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then—Stella groaned, untangling herself from her robe as she staggered to her feet.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake, Stolas! Can’t you just be a loser in silence?!"

Andrealphus, still sprawled out, wheezed, "I think I’ve broken my spine…"

Stolas, still hovering above the crumpled nobles, let out a soft tsk, shaking his head as if genuinely disappointed.

"Now, now, Stella," he crooned, descending slowly, his massive wings unfurling just enough to cast a looming shadow over her. "You should know by now—" his talons clicked against the marble as he landed, his many glowing eyes narrowing with amusement— "I never suffer in silence. I prefer an audience."

He gestured grandly to the shattered remains of Andrealphus’s dignity. "And this?" His smirk sharpened, his voice practically dripping with mock concern. "This was a show worth putting on."

Stella let out a frustrated huff, glaring daggers at him, but Stolas only grinned wider.

“Oh, but dear Andrealphus,” he continued smoothly, tilting his head with mock sympathy. “You wanted me to disappear so badly, didn’t you? And yet—” he gestured at the grand, towering palace around them, the very home he had reclaimed. “Here I am. And here you are. At my feet.”

Stolas let the silence hang for a moment, his smirk widening as Andrealphus swallowed hard.

“A shame, really,” he sighed, casting an almost pitying glance at Andrealphus. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one…” His wings flexed slightly, shadows creeping closer as Andrealphus let out a strangled squawk.

Stella’s face twisted with rage, but before she could snap back, Stolas’s smug expression turned to her.

"So tell me, Stella…" His voice dropped to a dangerous purr, his many eyes glowing brighter. "How does it feel to lose?"

A tense silence followed. Andrealphus, wisely deciding to preserve what little pride he had left, turned his head away and let out a defeated groan.

Lucifer, who had been watching the entire thing from a distance, finally chuckled. “Now that,” he mused, slowly applauding, “was thoroughly entertaining.”

Stolas turned to him with a flourish. “I did restrain myself, Sire.”

Lucifer smirked. “You did. But I’ll do you one better.”

With a snap of his fingers, a thick, glowing red seal appeared midair—an infernal decree written in elegant, deadly final script.

Lucifer read it aloud, his voice calm yet absolute.

“By my authority as King of Hell, Stella Goetia, and Marquis Andrealphus are hereby stripped of all royal privileges and exiled from the Goetia. Effective immediately. Should they return, they will be fed to the Hellhounds.”

Stella’s mouth fell open in outrage. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS—”

“Oh, I can,” Lucifer said with a charming yet thoroughly evil smile. “And I just did.”

Andrealphus, sensing the very last shreds of his dignity evaporating, groaned, “Can’t we at least stay the night?”

Lucifer gestured dramatically toward the enormous doors. “OUT.”

With a final, defeated huff, Stella and Andrealphus dragged themselves to their feet, robes disheveled and pride shattered.

Andrealphus glanced at Stella, gulped—then, dignity be damned, bolted for the exit.

Stella scowled after him, but with Lucifer still watching, she had no choice but to follow. At least she walked out with some dignity.

As she caught up to her brother, the two muttered bitter insults under their breath until they reached the palace entrance. There, Loona stood waiting beside Octavia, lazily leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin.

“Well, well,” she snorted. “Looks like you two just got your asses handed to you.”

Stella scowled. “Ugh. A filthy Hellhound—just what I needed to see today.”

Loona tilted her head. “I can escort you out personally if you’d like.” She cracked her knuckles.

Andrealphus paled. “No, no! That won’t be necessary!”

Stella and Andrealphus all but ran through the palace doors, disappearing into the night.

Lucifer turned to Stolas with a smirk. “Well. That was cathartic.”

Stolas, adjusting his feathers elegantly, smirked back. “Quite.”

He turned to Octavia, who had been watching the entire thing with a look of mild amusement.

“Shall we get this place back in order, Starfire?”

Octavia sighed, crossing her arms. “Yeah, yeah. Just try not to make it even weirder than it already was.”

And with that, order was restored—and Hell’s most entertaining shitshow had finally reached its curtain call.

[lady-lilly-gray]

Lilly Lore Drop: I've been a Bryce Pinkham fan for a decade 😩

[drama-glob]

Burnt Bridges (It's Over, Isn't It?)

In the aftermath of Blitz and Stolas's full moon deal ending on horrible terms, Fizz and Ozzie try to find out what happened and offer what they can to help.

“I see he still texted you a fair amount although you weren’t sleeping together,” Fizz said aloud as he set the phone on the counter next to his friend.

“Yeah, and?” the other imp snipped at him.

“And you still think he put in all this effort just to fuck you, huh?” the acrobatic demon added insinuatingly.

“Well, I don’t fucking know now, do I?! Getting banished from his palace right when I was trying to apologize seems like it’s pretty cut and dry that he hates me and doesn’t want to see me anymore,” Blitz angrily shot back as he scowled at Fizz.

“Apologize for what?” Ozzie promptly questioned a second later, looking at the smaller demon with a mix of seriousness and curiosity as the air became thickly charged with tension.

Blitz quickly averted his gaze, being silent for the first time and acting like his glass was the most fascinating thing in the world as the stares from Fizz and Ozzie only got harder.

“Blitz,” Fizz soon chimed in like a parent probing their child for the truth, which only made the other shut his eyes tight in an effort to block them out.

Here's the link on AO3:

@charsawdeath @enbydemirainbowbigfoot @pastaprincess @my-dark-lord

@meandtheyeehaws @knightinink @caspira-writes-fanfiction @lagomorphlady @nothoughtsjust-vibes Enjoy!

[rhiandoesfandom]

HB Fanfiction prompts I've had swirling in my head:

----------

Blitz takes out the angelic gun, loading it.

"Blitz we will find another way", Stolas says, putting his hand on his.

Blitz turns away from him, "They said we aren't getting out without one of us killing the other. I'm not letting you die. So if it comes to it, which it might soon. I'm shooting myself".

Stolas holds in his tears, "And I won't let you".

Blitz gives a curt laugh, "Then we're at a standstill".

------------

Blitz knocks on the door of the tower.

"Wha-Blitz? You good bud?" Fizz asks as Blitz falls over his shoulders and blubbers his next words through tears, "No", he cries, tears staining Fizz's shoulder.

He pats Blitz's horns, "Okay buddy, come on in. What's going on".

"I miss Stols!" He cries.

Fizz blinks and cocks his head, "But it's been a year".

--------------

"What do you mean you're leaving?!" Blitz asks, frantic as Loona packs her things.

"You haven't been the same in the last year and Im sick of it. And I'm an adult now. Time for me to act like it I guess", she groans, "Now leave me alone".

"No! I won't leave you alone. You're my daughter dammit and we're going to talk through this", he insists, walking closer to her.

"STAY BACK, BLITZ!" She strikes her hand back and a wave of magic pushes him back, giving a long cut across his face. He touches it and it's bleeding and he looks back up at her.

"I-didnt mean to i-", she quickly zips her bag and runs out of the apartment.

"Fuck...", Blitz curses to himself.

----------

"If your prince is so in love with you, where is he then?" Striker cackles, tracing a blade across Blitz's lower arm.

Blitz winces and spits blood in his face, "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't care about me. But other people do. Does anyone care about you?"

Striker groans and pushes the blade through his left hand, leaving it there.

"AHH!", Blitz yells out and seethes through his teeth, breathing heavily as he tries not to think about the pain and hot red blood trickling down his fingers.

"Stolas where are you...", he whispers to himself.

-----------

[hb-obsessed]

this will be the first fanfic I actually write and post...

[clickingkeys]

Well, if you insist. ;3

I am currently writing a Helluva Boss fic titled The Worth of Loss.

It’s a Stolitz story, set post Season 2 Episode 1, told from Stolas’ point of view. After setting Blitzø free of their deal, Stolas has been thrown out (literally) from the Goetia family.

He’s lost his lover, he’s lost his position in society. But when Blitzø offers Stolas a new “deal”, Stolas slowly starts to heal.

Here’s an excerpt that my very close friend liked:

I hope you enjoy! >w<

omg it’s FAN FICTION FRIDAY

Reblog and promote a fic of yours <3

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

I think my favorite thing in Stolitz fan fiction is those fix-it fics where Blitzø and Stolas finally got their shit together and decided to actually try at an actual relationship and they're like "We'll take it slow." Then five minutes later they're fucking over the desk because they "haven't touched each other in MONTHS guys! You don't understand! He was just standing there all cute and sexy! What was I supposed to do? NOT fuck him??" 🤣🤣🤣

[blitzwhore]

I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭

😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.

I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.

This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).

Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.

At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.

How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:

Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!

If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.

If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.

If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).

If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.

And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.

All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!

And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:

We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌

[pabulumm]

stolas was just more obvious about it but yesss

please also hmu if there are fics of these missing scenes

just thinking about ozzie's and how even after blitz said "this was a mistake" he says "let's just leave" and walks out with stolas and drives stolas home even though stolas could have just left the way he came through a portal

like...blitz saw the disastrous date through to the end and i love him for that.

[chaifootsteps]

we now have a Stolas bashing tag on A03! idk why it took so long, maybe no one was tagging that before

side note, it surprises me that writers have to put 'bashing' for stories that just literally address how he behaved in the show. Stolas is demonstrably selfish and petty yet writers sometimes feel the need to call it like an 'evil Stolas AU' or 'dark Stolas AU' just so fans don't jump down their throats when like

no, the last episodes have proven he just is self centred, mean and petty with an abuser's selective memory; we've gone way past plausible deniability for 'innocent misunderstanding' when his reaction to Blitz chewing him out for stuff he did is to avoid considering if Blitz has a point then spend all episode treating him like he's seriously wronged Stolas for expressing his feelings.

it's not the fandom's fault Viv is so bad at writing a sympathetic character that she made him the most dislikeable one in the entire show

also side note, it's impressive how many writers I'm seeing say some variation of 'I liked Stol1tz but the last two episodes have killed it for me'. like no one wants a ship where Blitz is expected to be a doormat for the meanest creature in all of Hell. or at the very least they want to see Stolas address some of the things he did wrong

even some of the fans who are the most likely to give Stolas way too much grace here are getting turned off by how Viv is going about this. even if they're buying all the retcons Viv shoved in to make him look better, they know the story still doesn't sit right as it is now. and I hope they ask for more from the story if Stolas doesn't address his wrongs or the writers do it in the most insulting way possible. now more people are seeing what I saw from the beginning of s2 I hope they stop settling for the bare minimum from Viv

the ones that make me saddest are the fix-its where the two talk and Stolas has an actually modicum of emotional maturity to see things from Blitz's perspective. this is the Stolas the fandom thought existed because the show kept insisting it was the case

yet every time Stolas has had the chance to prove he's that person, he's bungled it and proven himself not just void of empathy but vindictive and spiteful on top of it. I fell off Stolitz a long time ago but I know how much it would suck if the writers did that to one of my OTPs.

It's sad that it's reached a point where a character people had such high hopes for, that used to be half of an OTP for a lot of them -- myself included -- now has a bashing tag and an audience who increasingly wants to see him dead, but the Stolas we saw in Apology Tour just isn't a character worth hoping for anymore. I'm glad all those richly deserved fics have somewhere organized to be.

[bleucaesura]

I’ve decided I love my idea that maybe Stolas will eventually become a romance author.

Smutty smutty romance.

He’d be so successful.

So what if that bitchy sinner didn’t get wet from his Stolitz fan fic? What does SHE know anyway? NUTHIN.

You write your smutty books Stolas. You go baby gurl!

[poshflowerbed]

I'm looking for Stolitz fan fic recommendations. Anyone???

[rhiandoesfandom]

Chapter 15-It's Over

Summary:

“What did he do anyway?” she asks. Stolas rubs his arm, “Well, apparently he was still having those nightmares about his trauma, but he didn’t tell anyone. Then we were fighting about the mirror and I guess he assumed that it was only still happening because the mirror was still in tact”.

Notes:

This last one is truly like an Epilogue, which is why it is so short. I can't thank everyone enough for enjoying this series. It has inspired me to have so many other ideas of fics that I am ready to write! Please recommend this fic to folks if you believe it was worth the time!

[glitzbot]

omg i love your stolitz art so much! you are so talented!! i’ve never read fan fics before but i read your fic “Forgot not to fall for you” and you’re just incredible! When will the next chapter be released? (no rush of course just excited!) :)

AWWW thank you so much!! don't worry, I don't feel rushed, just very flattered!

next week is free and clear for me, so I'm really hoping to bang the next chapter out!! I miss the story too, I wanna get back into it!

thanks again for reading and letting me know you enjoy it!