Chapter Text
Stolas
Stolas is in a delicate situation. In truth, he has been ever since he moved in with Blitzø Buckzo, former circus clown, current art teacher, outstanding cook, expert in horses and firearms, and by all accounts, the most attractive man alive.
In his defense, Stolas never intended for this to happen. He just wanted to live in peace. It all started when, after six miserable years of trying to conceive the precautionary heir his father had requested of him, he simply couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't just that the mere thought of bedding Stella once more made him want to crawl out of his own skin—even though it very much did—but she was such a horrible person that her mere presence made him miserable. After their first year of marriage, he had learned to stay out of her way and had mostly confined himself to his study and greenhouse, places she never willingly went, but he couldn't avoid her completely, and the few moments he had to endure her company were unbearable. So, a few months ago, he left his palace in the middle of the night, vowing never to return.
It was all well and good in theory, but Stolas had never left the palace before, except for official meetings and to perform his goetic duties. It turned out that he had no idea what real life in Hell was like. It took the hellhounds his father sent after him all of six hours to find him and drag him back to the palace.
Nonetheless, he refused to fall back in line and openly defied his father. He was prepared not only to be stripped of his title, possessions, position, and powers, but also to suffer King Paimon’s wrath, which promised to be a thousand times worse. Anything but going back to live with Stella. Only Lucifer knows what would have happened if Prince Vassago hadn’t suddenly intervened on his behalf.
To this day, Stolas still does not know why the older Goetia helped him. Admittedly, the two of them were on good terms. Vassago seemed to share his interest in botany—although he preferred colorful flowers, while Stolas himself had always been more interested in the darker, more dangerous species—and they often found themselves comparing personal experiences on the sidelines of the dance floor at official events. But that was the extent of their relations. Vassago's intervention on his behalf makes no sense to him. Of course, Stolas is very grateful, because the red parrot protected him from violent retribution, from both his father and his now ex-wife. Yet, he can’t help but wonder about the reasons behind this seemingly random act.
Vassago announced that he had observed the stars and that Prince Stolas was to abandon his duties, home and wife, or else great misfortune would befall the House of Paimon. Naturally, Stolas' father did not take kindly to this news, but there was little he could do without risking public censure. After all, a prophet can only speak the truth, and the Goetia as a whole tend to listen to everything that comes out of their mouth. Stolas knows this better than anyone, because only six months ago, it was his life's purpose.
And so he gained his freedom, even though he lost everything else. He doesn't regret much, except for his favorite plants and his Grimoire. However, the transition from royalty to common life was neither simple nor easy. King Paimon indeed let him go without protest or retribution, but he still disowned him. Stolas never knew if his father was furious because he had defied him or because his House had lost its prophet, but King Paimon made sure everyone knew what fate awaited those who went against his orders.
Stolas was allowed to take a cutting from one of his beloved plants, a few clothes, and his favorite novels. Nothing more. He had no money, no possessions, and nowhere to stay. He was tempted to go and visit Vassago and ask him for answers, or at the very least directions. But they weren't friends. In fact, they weren't even close. They were just vague acquaintances who had found common ground, nothing more. Stolas had never visited the red parrot’s estate before and thought that it would be in poor taste to do so in such circumstances.
It was Mr. Butler, of all people, who came to his aid. The old imp, who had been his servant, tutor, and father figure in equal measure, gave him money and found him a job through a distant relative who owned a bar at the border between Imp City and Pentagram City, with all kinds of sinners and demons as patrons. Solas only met the imp in question once, a tall, burly man named Claudio, but he is very grateful to him, just as he is to Mr. Butler. In addition, Claudio allowed him to stay in the small multipurpose room above the bar for a few nights, the time for Stolas to get his bearings and find more permanent accommodation.
The discovery of a dubious website called Hellslist and two very unpleasant encounters later, Stolas met Blitzø Buckzo, agreed to move in with him in exchange for half the rent and utilities, and fell madly in love. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Or, in his case, tragedy.
« And that asshole shoved the kid. What was I supposed to do, Stols? Twiddle my thumbs? » his roommate exclaims, rolling his eyes with a casual shrug, though his rapidly swishing tail betrays his real emotional state.
« Certainly not », Stolas replies seriously, nodding his head in agreement. « You did what any good teacher would have done. »
And he truly means it. Blitzø is loud, quick-tempered, and never thinks before he speaks. But he has one of the biggest hearts Stolas has ever seen. And he is fiercely protective of all the children in his arts and crafts classes. Stolas doubts there is much Blitzø wouldn't do to keep them safe.
His roommate gives him a vindicated grin.
« Of course I did! But that asshole principal insisted that I apologize to the douchebag because he's some big shot in Pentagram City. He works for those Vees fuckers, or something like that! »
« And what did you do? » Stolas asks curiously, looking straight into his beautiful amber and red eyes.
Stolas could gaze at them for hours without ever getting tired if he weren't afraid of scaring Blitzø.
« I fucking apologized, what else? I need my paycheck, you know. Plus, I would probably miss the little brats after some time… »
That's quite an understatement, but Stolas knows that commenting on it would make Blitzø all flustered, so he keeps his thoughts to himself. Even if his roommate has the loveliest blushes, he doesn’t want to embarrass him.
« You were the biggest person, then » he says instead.
« Weeeeeeeell... I may have followed the asshole home and slashed all his tires... and scratched his hood for good measure », Blitzø retorts, looking both sheepish and proud.
Stolas can't help but let out a hooting laugh. His roommate's very personal brand of justice never ceases to delight him.
« Well done, darling! » he says, with a little clap.
The term of endearment has been coming out of his beak more and more often in recent weeks. It's as if he can't help himself. Or, more accurately, as if he doesn't want to. Fortunately, Blitzø has filed it away under ‘weird rich people habits’ and remains oblivious to Stolas's true feelings. His roommate never misses an opportunity to tease Stolas about his former wealth. Back then, he had no idea how privileged he actually was, because he didn't know how the rest of Hell lived. His life in Imp City has been eye-opening in more ways than one. He might feel offended if Blitzø didn't go out of his way to help him adjust to his new normal. He taught Stolas how to clean, cook, wash his clothes, and a hundred other little things that the owl had never had to do before. Without him he would be quite helpless.
No wonder he's so smitten, even though Blitzø's nonchalant kindness is just one of his many qualities.
« Thank you », replies his roommate with a smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
What's more, his tail lashes the air like a whip, and he exudes a strange, pent-up energy. Stolas is almost certain that something other than the altercation with that rude man is troubling him. He gently places a hand on Blitzø's, and the red-amber eyes look up at him.
They are strangely moist.
« Oh, darling, what’s wrong? » he whispers.
Blitzø shrugs and looks away. Stolas knows better than to press the issue. Instead, he gently squeezes his roommate’s hand and waits patiently for him to open up.
Finally, Blitzø lets out a small sob and says:
« If you want to know, during the fight, Biscuit Queen got splattered with red and blue paint. And it's fucking acrylic! If I use a paint remover, she’ll be damaged forever. »
Stolas's heart sinks at his obvious distress. Biscuit Queen is Blitzø's favorite stuffed animal, the one he's had since he was a little boy. One of the first things Blitzø told Stolas when he first came to the apartment to discuss possibly moving in together was her whole backstory, including the fact that she is now in a committed relationship with King Slut, the living room’s horse-shaped lamp.
Stolas was instantly enchanted.
He hasn't stopped since.
« Can I see it, darling? »
Blitzø sniffs and rummages through his backpack, pulling out a shiny gun, a pair of scissors, a squeaky toy, a box of pencils and, finally, Biscuit Queen. Stolas has to admit that his roommate was right: the stuffed animal is indeed covered in several paint stains that seem deeply ingrained. Removing them the traditional way would be difficult, and the result far from perfect.
Fortunately, he has other means at his disposal: twirling a talon in the air, he magically makes the stains disappear, leaving Biscuit Queen spotless and cleaner than she has ever been.
Blitzø opens his mouth and his gorgeous eyes widen in surprise.
« You're the best roommate ever! » he exclaims with such enthusiasm that Stolas chirps happily in response.
The kiss is unexpected, to say the least. One moment Stolas is smiling, his chest warmed by the feeling of having helped Blitzø, the next he feels a soft, warm pressure on his cheek that lasts for the blink of an eye. Now it's his turn to open his eyes wide, all four of them. Blitzø is no longer looking at him, but holding Biscuit Queen close to his heart. Stolas lets out a small, trembling sigh and absentmindedly strokes his cheek with the tip of his talon.
Art by Glitter☆Koneko
« Would you... um... like to watch My Little Hellpony with me tonight? » he says after clearing his throat. « I made some horse-shaped cookies earlier, and they’re actually edible this time. They’re barely burnt! »
His heart sinks when he sees Blitzø's grimace.
« Sorry, roomie, but I promised Ver I'd come cheer her on during her gig at that new club on Posh Street! You can come if you want. I'm sure Ver will be thrilled to see you! »
Stolas forces himself to smile pleasantly, hiding as much as possible the shame, guilt, and dejection he feels.
The worst part is that he's sure Blitzø is right. His girlfriend would probably be happy to see Stolas. The pretty succubus has been nothing but kind to him since Blitzø introduced them. And Stolas likes Verosika in return. He really does. Behind the skimpy clothing, the flirting, and the over-the-top attitude, she’s a kind-hearted person.
But—and the very thought makes him feel guilty—the two of them don't work well together. They both have very dominant, very loud personalities, not to mention hot tempers, which often leads to arguments that can turn nasty. What's more, Blitzø drinks much more than usual when they're together. As a recovering alcoholic himself, Stolas knows the signs.
Not only that, but Verosika is a bit of an attention seeker and expects a lot from Blitzø in terms of time, attention, and gifts. And while Stolas is convinced that she truly loves Blitzø, she is clearly more of a taker than a giver in this relationship. Since Blitzø already gives so much to everyone around him, he deserves someone who would take care of him for a change. Someone with whom he could relax and be completely himself. Someone who would shower him with little horse-themed gifts and praise, because he deserves them, and more.
Stolas would gladly give up all his powers and renounce his immortality to be that someone. But that's not in the cards for him, and he'll have to settle for Blitzø's friendship.
Better that than nothing.
« No, it's fine. I’m sure you'd rather be just the two of you. But please, say hi to her for me, okay? »
« You sure? » asks a frowning Blitzø. « I promise she wouldn’t mind at all! »
« Quite sure, darling. Thank you. I think I’ll go to bed early tonight, I'm pretty tired. And I'm on night shift tomorrow, I need my beauty sleep. »
Blitzø rolls his eyes.
« You don't need it to be gorgeous, stupid bird. But sure. Have a good night. See you tomorrow for breakfast, okay? »
Stolas smiles and waves him goodbye. He waits to hear the distinctive sound of his boots descending the stairs before flopping down on the couch. He picks up his roommate's favorite cushion—covered in horses, of course—and sniffs it, searching for his lovely scent.
He's going to take a long bubble bath, make himself some tea and a plate of snacks, then go to bed with his new novel. He's going to spend a very nice evening in, then will take some pills and have a long, restful night.
But for a brief moment, he allows himself to feel miserable, wishing for something he can never have.