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pinkthick · 3 months

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Just answer Via

Summary: "I understand you're upset, Octavia. But I love you more than anything. Please don't shut me out like this. I'm begging you."

Notes: Mind you, I didn’t watch Helluva Boss yet. (Just watched 3 episodes but the Goetia family got my heart so I needed to write something. 😭) Again, there is a bit of self-harm so um yeah. Enjoy

Warnings: Blood and Self-harm(cutting), Hurt No Comfort

A Octavia lay on her bed, ignoring the incessant buzzing of her phone. Messages and calls from her father flooded her notifications. She couldn't bear to listen or respond; the pain was too fresh. Stolas, on the other hand, found himself alone in bed, tears streaming down his face as he sent desperate apologies to his daughter.

He was drowning in regret. His perfect starfire, how could he hurt her? Tears cascaded down his face as he lay in bed, haunted by the distance between him and his beloved daughter. Desperation fueled his fingertips as he composed messages, pouring his heart out in a digital plea for forgiveness. The room echoed with his cries as he poured his emotions into each desperate attempt to connect with his daughter.

Octavia, however, was resolute in her decision to shut him out. She couldn't bear the disappointment and pain that seemed to accompany Stolas wherever he went. And fuck him. She didn’t need him. And dad Stolas sure as hell didn’t need her.

"Via, my love, please hear me out. It's all a terrible misunderstanding," Stolas pleaded in a shaky voice through a voice message, his vulnerability exposed.

But Octavia just tossed and turned in her bed, drowning out the incessant buzzing of her phone with a pillow over her head as more of his messages were coming in.

"I understand you're upset, Octavia. But I love you more than anything. Please don't shut me out like this. I'm begging you." He clutched his phone tightly, fighting back his own tears, but to no use. "I know I've been a fool, but you are my world. I would never willingly hurt you. And Blitzo—he doesn't mean more to me than you do. I never left you for him," he sobbed into the phone as he fervently composed one apology after another.

She didn’t want to entertain his attempts to explain himself. That was what she was telling herself over and over. In truth, she knew that if she allowed herself to listen, she might be swayed by his words. That were probably lies. All he did was lie.

Stolas' voice cracked with emotion as he spoke “You're my little girl, and I can't bear the thought of losing you. Please, let me make things right. I don’t want to spend an eternity without you, Via.” I’m so sorry my baby.

Stolas continued to call, each ring intensifying her frustration. Unable to endure the constant intrusion any longer, she seized her phone and, fueled by anger and disappointment, hurled it with all her might against the wall. The shattering impact silenced the incessant ringing and buzzing, providing a momentary respite.

The room fell into an eerie quiet, broken only by the sounds of her sobs. Her chest was heaving with a mixture of anger and relief as she glared at the broken pieces scattered on the floor.

She just..stood there. Breathless even. The moonlight streamed through the shards, casting an eerie glow that seemed to mirror the shattered fragments of her own emotions. She couldn’t take her eyes off the glinting shards—they suddenly seemed sharper, more defined.

The pain sometimes provided a twisted solace. Not always. But sometimes it did.

She bent down to pick up the scattered remnants of her phone. As she started to gather the broken pieces, a small shard embedded itself in her hand. There was a brief pause, but Octavia's expression remained stoic. It didn’t feel bad. It didn’t feel — enough.

Examining the shard in her hand, she felt an odd sense of detachment and she calmly removed the shard, and a slow trickle of blood began to stain her hand. The black droplets fell, but she continued cleaning up.

The room felt colder and despite the discomfort, a strange tranquility settled over her as she gazed at the glistening blood on her hand.

But it wasn’t enough. She needed more.

—

Stolas paced around his trashed room, frustration boiling over. "Damn it, Octavia! Why won't you let me explain?" he muttered to himself, fists clenched. The shattered remnants of his belongings lay scattered on the floor. His attempts to reach Octavia only led to the voicemail now "Blocked me, hasn't she?" Stolas seethed, resentment simmering beneath his feathers. He felt abandoned, misunderstood.

Stolas couldn't contain the turmoil within him any longer. With a guttural scream, he hurled a crystal vase across the room again, the shattering sound punctuating his frustration. “Satan forbid I try to be happy for once!” he growled, his fists now indiscriminately demolishing everything in his path. He knocked over a grand bookshelf, sending leather-bound tomes crashing to the ground.

His anger manifested in every strike, every shattered item a reflection of the shattered connection with his daughter. Stolas grabbed another vase, memories of happier times with Octavia flashing before his eyes. With a furious yell, he sent it flying, watching it disintegrate against the wall. "Stella, you wretched fiend!" he spat, resentment fuelling his rampage. He tore down curtains, the rich fabric torn to shreds in his hands.

The contents of drawers spilled onto the floor as Stolas overturned a dresser, the crash punctuating his fury. He kicked at the debris, uncaring of the damage inflicted upon his once-stylish attire.

Why wasn’t he allowed to be happy?

Stolas's rampage came to a sudden halt as his eyes fell upon a small, damaged frame. He bent down, trembling hands carefully picking up the remnants of a drawing — Octavia’s drawing. "No—no, no, no!" Stolas gasped, horror etched across his face as he cradled the fragile piece in his hands. The once-pristine frame lay shattered, and the drawing bore the scars of his unchecked fury.

A choked sob escaped him as he traced the lines of Octavia's childish strokes. "Not this drawing—oh, fuck," he whispered, guilt and regret intertwining in his voice. Stolas hastily searched for tape, his hands shaking as he fumbled through.

With a watery chuckle, he found the tape and delicately began piecing the frame together, his movements careful, as if mending this small drawing could somehow mend the larger wounds. As the drawing took shape again, albeit marred and fragile, Stolas looked at it through tear-filled eyes. The crayon depiction of a happy family seemed to mock him as he gently wiped away a tear that threatened to stain the paper.

I would never hurt her.

But you did.

Stolas settled onto the debris-laden floor, clutching the repaired drawing against his chest. Tears welled in his eyes as he gazed at the innocent depiction of a happier time. Silent sobs racked his frame as he whispered to the drawing, "My baby... my starfire," with a trembling hand, he reached for his phone.

He scrolled through his messages and soon the cruel reality struck. Octavia's name remained devoid of any response — what did he expect really?

Desperation etched across his features, Stolas dialed Octavia's number once again. The familiar tone of voicemail filled the air, echoing the emptiness of his heart. He clutched the phone, tears streaming down his face, as he whispered brokenly, "Please, Octavia, just talk to me." Stolas pressed a hand to his chest, as if physically trying to ease the ache within. "I've messed up," he admitted through choked sobs, his vulnerability laid bare. “I know I did, Via.”

Gasping for breath between sobs, Stolas's trembling hands scrolled through his contacts. After a moment of hesitation, he scrolled down to 'Stella.' A deep inhale preceded the press of the call button, the phone ringing.

Then, against his expectations, a begrudging voice answered on the other end. "What do you want now, Stolas?" Stella's tone dripped with irritation, a testament to the strained dynamic between them.

Stolas hesitated, his voice catching in his throat before he managed to stammer, "Stella, please, it's about Octavia. I need to talk to her." His desperation clung to his words.

A heavy sigh on the other end hinted at Stella's exasperation. "How many times do I have to say it? Octavia doesn't want to talk to you. Is that so hard for you to grasp?" The blunt truth struck Stolas like a blow, and he felt the weight of his actions press down on him.

He didn’t know what to say but Stella's voice turned colder, cutting through the strained air. "Was the sex worth it?" she asked as Stolas felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

His words stumbled as he tried to justify himself, "It wasn't just about that, Stella. I needed something more, something that made me feel alive."

A bitter laugh escaped Stella's lips, a sound tinged with both anger and disbelief. "Alive? You chose momentary pleasure over your daughter's happiness. What kind of father does that?"

A simmering anger brewed within Stolas as he clutched the phone as he retorted, "What kind of mother does what you do? All you ever did was show her off to your friends—you never cared for her! I don't even know if you love her!"

Stella's voice, now laced with a mix of anger and hurt, responded, "Don't turn this around on me. You're the one who shattered our family for some demon's affection. I did my best for Octavia, and I won't let you blame me for your mistakes."

Stolas, undeterred, retorted, "Your best? She needed both of us, Stella. We both failed her. You were more concerned with appearances than being there for Octavia. Don't pretend you're innocent in all of this."

A bitter laugh echoed through the phone as Stella responded, "But where is she now, Stolas? Is she staying with you?" The question hung in the air, a cruel reminder that Octavia had chosen to distance herself from her father in the wake of his mistakes. Stolas felt a lump forming in his throat, the weight of the truth pressing down on him. He glanced around the shattered room, now devoid of any semblance of the life he had once known. "No, she's not with me," he admitted, his voice carrying a defeated tone.

Stella's laughter persisted on the other end, a sound that grated against Stolas's ears. "Of course she's not with you. Why would she want to be? You've made your bed, Stolas, and now you have to lie in it."

A heavy silence settled between them, and Stolas struggled to find the right words. "I... I messed up, Stella.”

No shit.

"I'm going to check up on my daughter since you probably disturbed her night with your calls," Stella declared, her voice stern and resolute. The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, leaving Stolas with a sinking feeling that he had pushed Octavia further away.

"Stella, please—" Stolas began, his plea interrupted by the decisive click of the call ending. He stared at his phone in silence, the dim glow of the shattered room casting shadows over his disheveled appearance.

—

Octavia stealthily made her way to the kitchen, ensuring that her mother or uncle were not present. And they weren’t, thank Satan. She cautiously opened drawers, her search focused and deliberate. Her hands sifted through the utensils until she found what she was looking for – a cold, gleaming knife tucked away among the ordinary cutlery. Octavia's gaze lingered on the blade, reflecting the moonlight that streamed in through the window.

Via found herself descending onto the cold kitchen floor, the knife held loosely in her hands. Conflicted emotions swirled within her, a storm of pain, anger, and confusion. Her own mind was a battleground, torn between the yearning for control and the dread of succumbing to old habits. She traced the edge of the knife with her fingers, contemplating the scars that adorned her past.

The temptation to cut again clawed at her again. It would be so simple. Peaceful even.

She closed her eyes, taking a shuddering breath. She just felt numb thinking about her insignificant existence. Her parents didn’t want her. They needed a heir and they got one. She realized that no matter what she’ll do, her life will atone to nothing. The only time the emptiness was filled was when the slits from her wrists were open and blood poured down her arms.

Memories of Stolas flooded her mind. She couldn't escape the vivid recollections of his face, a mix between concern and disappointment, every time he discovered the evidence of her self-harm. His eyes mirrored the pain he felt for her, a silent plea for her to find solace without resorting to self-destruction. My beautiful girl. My beautiful miracle girl. Why would you do that to yourself?

He always asked the same questions.

Octavia could almost feel Stolas' gentle touch as he cleaned her wounds, his hands moving with a tenderness that belied the frustration and sorrow etched on his face. His gentle touch, the careful application of bandages, his tears for her.

Lucifer knows, one of them had to pretend to care .

The knife felt heavier in her hand for some reason. She didn’t.. set out to do this tonight. Gripping the knife tightly, she steeled herself for the familiar dance with pain. She held her breathe as she pressed the blade against her skin, tracing lines that mirrored the scars of her past.

It was always fascinating. Hypnotizing. And before Octavia really understood what her body was doing, the knife was squeezed tightly in her fist and was cutting again. The pain was sharp and sudden, but faded as soon as the beautiful red started to run. She never realized how beautiful blood could be. The color was bark and painful but soothing at the same time. Stunning.

It’s scary. She shuttered to think of what Stolas would think of her if he knew she had intentionally cut up her arm again. Blood isn’t comforting, she knew that.

What did she really do?

—

Stolas summoned a hologram of a little Octavia. The ethereal form glowed softly, capturing the innocence and purity of his daughter in happier times. The miniature figure stood before him, her eyes wide and curious.

"Why are you crying, Daddy?" the holographic Octavia asked, her voice a sweet echo from the past. Stolas looked up, his tear-streaked face met with the spectral image of his daughter, a painful reminder of the joy he had inadvertently traded for fleeting moments of pleasure.

He struggled to find words, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. "I'm sorry, my starfire," he whispered, reaching out as if to touch the hologram, only to grasp at the emptiness.

The holographic Octavia tilted her head, her innocence contrasting starkly with the broken reality surrounding them. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked, confusion clouding her ghostly features. Stolas shook his head, his heart aching at the notion of his little girl blaming herself. "No, no, my love. Daddy made some mistakes, and I hurt you. I hurt us," he confessed, his voice trembling.

"Can't you fix it, Daddy?" she asked, her small form glowing with hope.

"I'll do everything I can to fix it, my precious. Daddy promises," he vowed to the ethereal image.

A gentle, playful giggle emanated from the holographic Octavia, her form shifting to mirror an older version of herself. "You're still embarrassing as fuck, Dad," she quipped, her tone filled with a teasing familiarity that sent a wave of relief through Stolas.

He was stunned and looked up from his tear-stained hands, and his eyes widened at the sight of the hologram transforming into an older, more mature Octavia. The glow of the projection illuminated the room, casting an ethereal light on the wreckage. A tentative smile played on Stolas's lips as he took in the image of the holographic Octavia, her features reminiscent of the daughter who had distanced herself from him. "Via, my dear, I... I miss you," he admitted, his voice carrying a mix of longing and regret.

The holographic Octavia, now resembling the older version who had grown distant, rolled her eyes playfully. "You've got a lot of making up to do, old man," she said, her tone softening as she reached out, the glow of her hand brushing against Stolas's cheek — but he didn’t feel it.

He wished he could feel it.

"I'm so sorry, Octavia," Stolas began, his voice heavy with remorse. "I never meant to hurt you. I've made terrible choices, and I've hurt you. I just want you to know that I love you, more than anything."

The holographic Octavia regarded him with a mixture of warmth and skepticism. "You messed up big time, but you’re lucky I love you too." she responded and Stolas melted before her.

As their interaction deepened, Stolas found himself immersed in the illusion, the holographic Octavia's laughter and responses feeling so authentic that, at times, he forgot she was merely a projection. So Stolas allowed himself to believe that the hologram before him was his actual daughter.

—

Stella burst into the kitchen, her eyes widening in shock as they fell upon Octavia, blood running down her arms. Anger and concern clashed on Stella's face, her expression darkening. "What the fuck, Octavia? You're cutting yourself again?" The words were sharp, a mix of frustration and worry. Octavia felt a pang of guilt and shame. She stammered, searching for words that could explain the inexplicable.

"Mom, I—" but before she could finish, Stella's voice cut through, more forceful this time. "I can't believe you're doing this again. Fuck, we need to clean up before anyone sees, especially my brother." As Stella moved towards Octavia, a mix of urgency and irritation, Via instinctively tried to shield her actions. "No, I can handle it myself," she protested weakly.

Stella, however, wasn't having it. "Handle it yourself? Look at you, bleeding all over the damn place. We don't have time for your bullshit. Now, give me that knife, and let's clean you up." She hesitated but she did give the knife to her mother.

As Stella examined the wounds, Octavia winced, and a cry escaped her lips. "It hurts!"

"Stop acting like a baby," Stella snapped, her tone harsh. "This is your mess, and you're going to clean it up.” Her mother retorted, her voice stern as she led Octavia towards the sink. The moonlight painted a macabre scene as Stella started cleaning the wounds, Via started to watch as her blood fell to the bottom of it and mixed with the water until it turned pink and pooled around the drain.

Stella, frustration etching her features, demanded an explanation as she asked, "Why did you do it? You stopped doing this awhile ago." Octavia, still sniffling, looked up at Stella and whispered, "You know why." Her mother’s eyes softened briefly, a mix of sympathy and exasperation in her gaze. "He's not worth it. Doing this to your body isn't worth it." she insisted, reaching for a cloth to start cleaning Octavia's wounds.

Via, her voice shaky, responded, "I can't... I can't get his face out of my head.” As Stella dabbed at the cuts, Octavia winced "Why can't you see that you're worth more than whatever he did?" Stella pressed, frustration tingeing her words. "Cutting yourself won't make the pain go away. It only adds to it." Octavia, tears streaming down her face, struggled to find a response.

Stella, her hands continuing to move methodically to clean Octavia's wounds, couldn't hide the frustration in her voice. "Now stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can't waste a pretty face like you have," Stella remarked, her words sharp and tinged with frustration. "You can't be pathetic like him."

Octavia, still sniffling, met Stella's gaze, her eyes reflecting a tumultuous sea of emotions. "Why did he choose him over me?" she asked, her voice tinged with a vulnerability that echoed through the room. "The Imp?" Stella clarified, pausing for a moment. Octavia nodded, prompting Stella to scoff. "Because he's a fucking moron who gets crazy over a dick," she retorted, her disdain evident in her tone.

The truth in Stella's words hung heavy in the air, a bitter acknowledgment of the absurdity that had fractured their family "You're better than this, Octavia. You're worth more than someone who would choose... that, over his own daughter. Don't let his colossal mistake define your worth."

Octavia, her voice heavy with pain and resentment, confessed, "I hate him. He promised he would never leave me, but he didn't even bat an eye when he had the chance."

Stella, finishing up and turing off the water, frowned at Octavia's raw confession. "As I said, he's a fucking pathetic old gay—"

"Mom," Octavia interrupted, her tone pleading. "I just wanted him to love me more than he loves Blitzo."

Stella's expression hardened briefly, a flicker of anger in her eyes. "His name doesn't even deserve to be in your mouth," she asserted as she continued "You're his heir, Octavia, and he should have put you first. I don't care about his reasons; abandoning you was inexcusable."

Octavia looked down, her mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. "I thought I meant more to him," she admitted, her voice a mere whisper.

Stella's tone grew more unbearable as she patted Octavia's head with a forced semblance of affection. "You're a fool for thinking that," she remarked, her words a cold reminder of the harsh reality they were grappling with. Octavia, looking up at her mother, felt a surge of frustration and yearning for understanding.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Stella cut her off. "Now, we had a great heart-to-heart talk, but you need to clean up here. We'll talk tomorrow," she declared, her abrupt shift in demeanor signaling the end of their conversation. As Stella stood up, leaving Octavia on the kitchen floor, she stopped in the doorway, her gaze lingering on her daughter "I don't think I need to tell you that you need to wear shirts with long sleeves the next few weeks?" she remarked.

"No, Mom," Octavia replied, her eyes downcast as she reached for a towel.

“Great! Now chop-chop," she declared as Via nodded, her movements mechanical as she began the task of cleaning up the blood from the floor. The room seemed to blur as a vivid memory transported her to a moment years ago, a time when Stolas had bandaged her wounds.

Octavia sat on the bathroom floor, tears streaming down her face, her arms marked with fresh cuts. Stolas knelt beside her, gently cleaning the wounds with a tenderness that seemed incongruent with the pain etched on his face.

"I'm sorry—" Via began to apologize, but Stolas, his eyes welling up with tears, cut her off with a quiet intensity. "You don't need to apologize for this," he insisted, his voice a mix of sorrow and genuine concern.

He pressed his forehead to hers, a tender moment that spoke of a father's love grappling with the pain of seeing his daughter in such a state. "I just wish you'd stop doing this."

She just continued to scrub at the floor.

—

The holographic Octavia, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, suggested, "How about we go to dinner this Friday at that new local place? Just you and me, Dad." Her proposal hung in the air “Just like old times.”

A surge of joy mixed with sorrow filled Stolas's heart as he tried to reach out and touch her, only to be met with the intangible glow of the hologram. Frustration etched his features as the realization dawned upon him. "You're not... real, Via," he admitted —to himself.

The holographic Octavia simply smiled, her expression retaining a gentle warmth. Which wasn’t real. It was only in his head.

A profound sadness gripped him as he realized that this connection, no matter how comforting, was merely a mirage—a fleeting illusion that couldn't replace the tangible presence of his estranged daughter.

In a moment of despair, Stolas clenched his fists, his vision blurred by fresh tears. "I'm so sorry, Via," he whispered, the sincerity of his remorse echoing in the quiet room. He raised his hand and swiped through the holographic projection and the radiant image flickered, and Octavia's form began to dissipate like mist in the wind.

Stolas cried out, a raw and anguished sound as he sank to his knees, the weight of the real world crashing down on him once more. But the sudden ring of Stolas's phone shattered the heavy silence in the room, jolting him up. Hope flickered in his eyes as he fumbled to retrieve the device, a desperate anticipation that maybe, just maybe, Octavia was reaching out.

However, as he glanced at the caller ID, disappointment and frustration welled up within him. It wasn't Octavia; instead, the name "Blitzo" blinked on the screen. Stolas hesitated, his thumb hovering over the answer button.

He chose to not to answer though, letting the call go to voicemail.

Oh, Via..

As he glanced out of his own window, the moonlit sky seemed empty. Stolas knew, more than ever, that he needed Octavia.

—

Octavia, sat by her window and her arms now bandaged, her gaze was fixed on the distant horizon. The city lights twinkled below, reflecting in her eyes, yet the flicker of resentment lingered. She convinced herself that she no longer needed Stolas. The night sky stretched above her, mirroring the vast expanse of the void that had replaced the warmth of their connection.

Separated by physical and emotional distance, father and daughter found themselves gazing at the same sky, yet the chasm between them seemed insurmountable.

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jubileemon · 2 months

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Helluva Boss: The Controversy Around Stella's Character

After "The Circus" premiered, there was a decent amount of controversy regarding her portrayal. There are a decent number of fans who were upset that Stella is portrayed as the bad guy in Stolas' marriage. This is mainly due to people hating Stolas because he cheated, not caring that Stella abused him for their entire marriage and made him miserable. Others aren't as mad, but wish Stella had more personality.

While others aren't as mad, some people wish Stella had more personality. Another group knows that Stella was always evil due to her prior appearances and were expecting something like this.

Stella Goetia's malevolent nature was evident from her youth, as depicted in a disturbing photograph where she is seen strangling her pet dogs. This early sign of cruelty foreshadows the abusive tendencies that manifest in her adult life. If that picture was meant to endear Stolas to the prospect of marrying her, it suggests either that Paimon has no qualms about animal abuse or that said cruelty has become "normalized" in the Goetia household.

As it turns out, Stolas only married Stella because his father Paimon arranged it in the hopes that Stolas would father a powerful new addition to the family. As this episode shows, their marriage was absolutely miserable, to the point that Stella threw parties about how they hadn't divorced yet and talks trash about him to her friends while he's in earshot. While Stella gossips with her friends, she tells them how terrible in bed Stolas was, and how he just blankly stared at the ceiling while she did all of the work. She then gloats how happy she was that at least an egg popped out of her so she didn't have to pretend like she wanted to have sex with Stolas, but all Stolas can do is glower and order something stronger than wine to calm himself.

Special mention to the part where Stella merely refers to Octavia as "an egg", further hinting at the neglectful nature of Stella's relationship to her own daughter at best and viewing her as little more than a necessity to the family at worst.

For many years, she has belittled and humiliated Stolas. As for why Stella's still hanging around the mansion at this point, well, if her behavior at the parties in the past didn't make it clear, she likes to see him suffer. Her admission that she derives pleasure from tormenting her husband reveals her sadistic tendencies. Even when faced with the consequences of her actions, Stella's response is to threaten further aggression and leverage her status to intimidate. Even if their marriage was arranged and he wasn't at all happy, even if he only tried to preserve it for the sake of Octavia's home life, Stolas has had enough and demands a divorce.

Stella's reaction doesn't make it much better. Not only is she more upset about her stung pride than anything else, she takes a vicious satisfaction in pointing out that Stolas has pretty much ruined his own reputation by now, and that he'll be punished for it. She also moves to try to hit Stolas for demanding a divorce and standing up to her, the fact he catches her hand so quickly as she tries to slap him suggests that she likely has physically abused him before. In a drastic escalation of her vindictive behavior, Stella hires an assassin to murder Stolas, showing a callous indifference to the emotional trauma this could inflict on Octavia, especially at a time when father and daughter are mending their relationship.

Stella is also rather single-minded and short-sighted in her efforts to kill Stolas. She was willing to demand Striker to kill him over the phone with both her husband and daughter present at the family’s dinner table, not even being sneaky about it. In "Western Energy", her inability to grasp the consequences of her husband's potential assassination, as pointed out by her brother Andrealphus, suggests a lack of understanding of the ramifications of her actions. This raises questions about her awareness of the inheritance laws in Hell, which would see her daughter Octavia inherit everything, leaving Stella with nothing post-divorce.

Stella's reliance on her brother Andrealphus during critical moments, such as the divorce proceedings and the decision to call off a hit on her husband, indicates a dependency on external guidance for decision-making. Andrealphus appears to be the voice of reason, prompting speculation about whether Stella's actions are driven by emotional impulsivity rather than calculated intent.

Now that we know Stella hates being married to Stolas as much as he hates being married to her, why didn't she signed up for divorce as soon as Octavia was hatched? Stolas endured for the sake of Octavia having a normal life, but for what reason Stella stayed? It couldn't be for the prestige, since Stella using her brother as leverage against Stolas implies it's actually she the one with a higher ranked family. So my theory is that Stella's life was in the line unless she accepted to marry Stolas. Probably her family only saw her as an exchange piece in the game of power, and if she didn't play along until death do her apart from Stolas, it would be her the one to be disposed of.

It will explain why she's just so angry all the time and the reason why she resents, belittles and abuses Stolas: she sees him as the reason of her own imprisonment in this unwanted marriage. And before someone says it's too much of a stretch, remember this is Hell. If she can contract a hitman on her husband within earshot of him and he doesn't bat an eye, who can tell nobles don't dispose of troublesome children that don't fall in line to the family's desires? After all, Paimon has a lot of kids, so the other families might as well; they have plenty of spares.

Stella is a cautionary tale about people being born into privilege who think their status allows them to get away with everything She'll genuinely believe that because she's a denizen of Hell who's born into royalty, Stella can get off with abusing Stolas scot-free.

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