Una Ragazza Qualunque

This amazing analysis by @timkontheunsure matched a sketch I was working on so perfectly that I just HAD to finish it!📂✨

Stolas starts crying. Blitzø clutches at his chest. He can’t breathe. The words choke him as they spill out in sudden jerks. 

“I love you. I love you.”

“Blitzø,” Stolas begs, “please—”

“I-I love you, I… I—” Blitzø tries to keep it in. He tries, he tries, and— “I love you. I love you, Stolas. I love you.”

Stolas crumples down and sobs into his hands. On his knees, he’s barely taller than Blitzø, and still he’s out of reach, because Blitzø can’t step towards him now. He’s glued to the spot, overtaken by the terror of what he’s doing. 

He’s hurting Stolas. He’s making Stolas cry. All Stolas asked was for him to not say those wretched words again, and Blitzø can’t even get that right, because the second he dares to unclench his jaw long enough to draw in air the words pour out of him again.

“I love you. I l-love you. Stolas, I—” I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so fucking sorry, I promise I’m trying, I— “love you.”

The words taste like salt, and that’s how Blitzø knows he’s crying. His hands are blurry when he looks down at them, but he can tell they’re shaking.

Stolas shakes his head. Over, and over, he shakes his head and hides his cries into his palms. Oh, God, Stolas is inconsolable. What has he done?

Blitzø is repulsed by himself. He wants to crawl out of his skin, hollow himself from the inside out until there’s nothing left of the words bursting out of his chest. He’d thought of them as the timid trembling of a bird’s wings as it shook off sleep and got ready to take flight. They’re not. They’re claws, angry and piercing, and with each second that Blitzø tries to hold them in, they tear his flesh and rip his heart to shreds in their frenzy to come out.

“I love you,” Blitzø says again, unable to help it, too weak to fight back. “I love you.” 

Though neither of them moves, the space between them stretches. It seems impossible, like it’s not air that fills the growing gap between them, but instead a heavy darkness darkness. Stolas zooms out of his reach until Blitzø can barely make out his silhouette. 

He’s slipping away. Stolas is slipping away, and there’s nothing Blitzø can do to stop it. 

This is his fault. This is all his fault. 

“Blitzø…” His name, broken and damned, echoes in the distance. 

I know, he wants so desperately to say, I’m sorry. “I love you.” 

Hopefully Stolas can’t hear the words by now. 

“Blitzø.”

Blitzø sniffles. Smiles. It’s okay, Stols. You can go now. Please don’t stay here and let me keep hurting you. “I love you.”

Four red dots flash in the distance: they’re faint, and fleeting, and then they’re gone. 

At last, the turmoil in his chest settles. With an exhale, the words part from his lips again, and Blitzø knows this time is the last. “I love you.”

Stolas is gone now. That’s good. That means Blitzø can’t hurt him anymore.

He can rest now. He can rest knowing he’ll never have to hurt Stolas again.

“Blitzø!” 

Christ on a fucking—

Blitzø jumps out of his skin. His heart pounds, and just like that, he startles awake. 

It’s still dark outside, and the apartment is perfectly quiet. The shadows, which draw looming shapes on the living room walls, disappear briefly with the headlights of a passing car. Blitzø sits up on the beanbag and searches the couch.

Four wide red eyes stare back at him.

“Stols,” Blitzø rasps out, voice rougher than he expected. “Wh-What are you doing awake?”

“Are you okay?” murmurs the owl, the words muffled against his blanket. “You sounded upset.”

Shit. His stupid fucking nightmare. Had he woken Stolas up? He hadn’t said any actual words out loud, had he? 

“I’m okay. It was just a weird dream.” 

“... Okay,” Stolas says, reluctant. Blitzø puts on a reassuring tone.

“Go back to sleep. We got work in the morning.”

In the darkness, he only catches a glimpse of Stolas nodding his head. “All right.”

It takes a while, but eventually he hears Stolas’ breaths deepen, then shape into the tell-tale lulling hoots that signal he’s all the way asleep. 

Only then does Blitzø move. He crawls closer to the couch and sits a few steps away from Stolas’ sleeping form, where he can make out the owl’s face with the minimal light coming in from the street.

He takes his time tracing the soft outline of Stolas’ eyelids, examining the soft fuzziness of Stolas’ rounded cheeks. He follows the curve of Stolas’ beak down to his slightly-parted mouth, and watches the slow rise and fall of his body with each steady breath.

Blitz takes his time, even though he doesn’t need to. He doesn’t need to, because it only takes one moment of looking at Stolas for him to locate the quivering beast inside his chest. 

Much like Stolas, the creature slumbers and doesn’t stir; not even when Blitzø feels around it carefully to study its weight inside his ribcage and explore its thrumming warmth around his heart.

Blitzø opens his mouth and feels the words I love you build inside his chest. They don’t seem in a rush to come out. Still, he double checks:

“Goodnight, Stols.

The words come out easily, untarnished by the ones sleeping away contentedly in the deepest caverns of his chest. 

It’s that last confirmation—the knowledge that he still has power over his voice, that the words won’t spill out without permission, that he’s not about to break Stolas’ heart again—that allows him to clamber back to his beanbag and chase after some more sleep. 

Stolas was never allowed to want.

From an early age, his life was planned out for him. A wife and an heir and a Grimoire to find prophecies in the sky: those were the purpose of his existence. Whether he wanted those things was irrelevant, because his life was not his to design.

And he stayed compliant... until Blitz came (and came, if you know what I mean) along. And Stolas let himself want. Even though it wasn't for him to make that decision, as far as the Goetia were concerned. Even though it'd have real-life consequences and ramifications. Stolas was drunk, and sick of Stella's mockery and of being the laughing stock of her social circles, so he took Blitz to his chambers and flirted with him, and when Blitz restrained him on the bed, Stolas allowed it and expressed how much he wanted to be fucked by Blitz. And then he got ravished.

And it was the most liberating moment of his life. Not just that: it was the decision that set him on the path to mental, physical, emotional, social, marital, and sexual liberation he's still currently in the middle of as of the beginning of season 3. From the moment Stolas fucked Blitz, he was no longer living a life designed by someone else: he was, at long last, becoming the master of his fate.

And that led him to establishing the full moon deal. To loaning Blitz the Grimoire. To a period of joy where he truly believed he had something real with Blitz. To the crushing events of Ozzie's, and to giving Blitz the crystal to right his mistake. To facing Satan in court.

To losing everything. To losing Octavia.

Stolas feels more than just guilt for wanting.

He's expressed before, particularly at the end of Sinsmas, that he's well aware he's responsible for the consequences of his choices. But I think this new clip sheds light on something darker and deeper than guilt: I think it sheds light on shame.

"If you wanted me to stop, we both know you could stop me, but you want to get filthy, don't you?" Those are the words Stolas puts on fantasy-Blitz's mouth. So let's unpack them.

"If you wanted me to stop"

A conditional sentence. If you wanted me to stop. But that's not what Stolas wants.

The words, while teasing, are also an accusation: "You're into this even though it's wrong, even though it's filthy. You should want me to stop, but you don't. That's how dirty you are."

And what that means for Stolas is that he feels deeply that his desire for Blitz is dark, it's wrong. That he wants something he shouldn't.

(This internalised shame is also alluded to in Just Look My Way, where he refers to his desire for Blitz as a "dark temptation").

"We both know you could stop me"

Those words weren't chosen lightly. They are load-bearing, because they establish that it is mutually understood that Stolas holds all the power in their dynamic. Therefore, Blitz can do pretty much whatever he wants, and it is on Stolas to set the limit and put a stop to anything he doesn't want happening. From Stolas' perspective, their relationship, both sexual and sentimental, continued to develop as a direct consequence of Stolas' failure to put an end to it.

This sentiment is not new:

"I let you get to close. I let it go too far. I let it go too long. I let you go too deep." It's all "I, I, I". Implying it was on Stolas to know better, and thus he's solely responsible for how far things went.

It's a sentiment that removes all agency and responsibility from Blitz and places it on Stolas' shoulders. It reframes their deal not as the product of the decisions of two adults equally willing to risk the potential consequences, but as the product of Stolas' selfish choice to get what he wanted. From Stolas' perspective, Blitz is merely operating on the basis that things will only go as far as Stolas allows them to go, and it is entirely on Stolas to draw the lines he isn't willing to cross.

"But you want to get filthy, don't you?"

There's a choice being given here, and it's Stolas' to make: he can either stop Blitz, or allow him to continue. It is implied, particularly through the word choice of filthy, that the correct choice would be for Stolas to restrain himself. But he won't, and fantasy-Blitz knows it: he knows Stolas will choose not to stop him, because Stolas wants to get filthy, wants to follow the wrong path, consequences be damned.

It's what he did in his real life, afrer all. Stolas had a choice not to let Blitz use the Grimoire. They both knew if Stolas didn't want Blitz to take it, he could've taken it back with a snap of his fingers and never looked back. But Stolas, for the first time in his life, prioritised his sexual, romantic, and emotional needs, and so he allowed Blitz to use the Grimoire. And because of that, they both ended up in a mess that led to Blitz almost dying and to Stolas losing Octavia.

The conclusion Stolas drew from this was: "all I had to do was restrain myself, all I had to do was suck it up and never act on my desires, and I wouldn't have caused this mess."

(Or, as Ozzie put it: "you had it all! I hope you didn't give it up so you and him could get it up... you sold your life for a thrust.")

This fantasy he's crafted, though very trope-y on a surface level, turns the guilt Stolas expressed in Apology Tour and Sinsmas on its axis and shows us what's bubbling underneath: a deep-rooted sense of sexual shame.

Stolas has been systematically deprived of agency.

If you wanted me to stop, we both know you could stop me, but you want to get filthy, don't you?

Do they both know that, though? Are they equally aware that Stolas could stop Blitz? In the most literal sense, the answer is yes. After all, the entirety of their BDSM dynamic hinges on the fact that Stolas is practically indestructible, and could free himself from all restraints and force Blitz out of his home with a wave of his hand, if he felt actually threatened or uncomfortable in any way.

But chances are high Andrealphus' comments in Satan's court about how weak Stolas is weren't a one-time thing. After all, every Goetia in that court (except for Vassago) was willing to accept that Stolas, despite his immense magical power, was too weak to even withstand being in the presence of his supposed abuser. An abuser who was a magically powerless imp, yet who had still supposedly managed to rape him.

It seems to be that everyone in the Goetic social circles believes Stolas to have an extremely weak and passive character, to be pathetic in his inability to stand up for himself and ultimately unfit for his role as a prince.

And I think Stolas' fantasy is also, to some extent, a reflection of how Stolas has internalised the same ideas about himself. "We both know you could stop me (implied: but you won't)." And why won't he? Why didn't he stop Blitz from fucking him that first night, why didn't he stop Blitz from taking the Grimoire? Was it mere selfishness? Was it him being blinded by love or lust? Was it complete and utter idiocy?

Or... was it something else? Weakness, perhaps? A confirmation of what his family has always said about him—that he's not good enough, that he doesn't have what it takes to make sound choices? And is this line from fantasy-Blitz really just a trope-y pick-up line, or could it be pointing towards Stolas' perceived weakness and passivity? A perceived tendency to just let things happen to him, to let inaction be his choice?

Stolas is going to unlearn his shame.

At the end of the clip, Stolas angrily crosses out his fanfic in a moment that clearly parallels his crashout in Sinsmas, when he berated himself for messing everything up for a "stupid, foolish fantasy".

Yet isn't it funny how, later in Sinsmas, Stolas' desire for a romantic fantasy is rewarded when Blitz becomes his knight in shining armour and saves him from the dragon?

I strongly believe that moment in Sinsmas was the beginning of an arc the seeds of which are still being planted. An arc wherein Stolas learns he was always allowed to want. That he was right for wanting to be free. For choosing Blitz; for choosing himself. Sure, the way he went about it wasn't great—and he's already well into the process of unpacking and making up for the pain he caused—but there was nothing wrong with the act itself of pursuing his sexual (and overall) liberation.

He grew up neglected and abused. He was raised in a cult that had no care for his personhood and assigned him a role he was never meant to stray from. He was forced into a heterosexual marriage despite being gay and—in my opinion, though that's a different post—sexually assaulted by his wife. He was forced to become a father and to live the rest of his life secluded in a palace, where he wouldn't be a nuisance to anyone else.

Him breaking free of that is a good thing. His is a story of radical queer liberation. He went from barely existing—from being a ghost, a living corpse, quietly fading away, chained by abuse and societal pressure—to breaking free and claiming his own life, his body, his sexuality, his heart. Saying, "fuck this, fuck everything, I want to live."

And the narrative, while holding him accountable for the ways in which he was careless and tone-deaf and naive, rewarded him for wanting to be loved and wanted and desired. It rewarded him—and, from what we've seen in the teaser and Millie's words to him, will continue to reward him—for wanting to be cherished and cared for and wanted around.

And the narrative will continue to prove his shame wrong. It will continue to reward his desire to be queer, and happy, and free. And Stolas is going to learn there was never anything wrong with wanting out of his gilded cage. There was never anything wrong with wanting.