Chapter Text
Stolas (my number) > I checked my sources and it is indeed possible for Loona to fight a velociraptor and win. Velociraptors were about 15kg and hunted in groups. A single specimen would not be that much of a danger.
Blitzy > f*ck yeah
Blitzy > tf is 15kg
Stolas (my number) > According to google, 33,0693 lbs.
Blitzy > i cuold fite a groop ov em chicknz bitches wit a pool noodel
Millie owned a black van, the kind that stopped next to you on a deserted road after which you are never seen again. On the list of suspicious vehicles it placed above Moxxie’s black sedan.
They packed everyone into it and took turns picking a song on Moxxie’s spotify because he was the only one who had premium. His playlists consisted entirely of broadway numbers and Loona picked exclusively emo music that reminded Stolas a little too much of his My Chemical Romance phase.
Blitz and Millie blasted a rap number about two twerking best friends that they knew every word to. It would have been cute if Millie didn’t move the steering wheel to the left and right on the beat and caused three near-accidents.
The American Loo Loo Land was identical to the one in the UK that Stolas had visited once, from the flashing neon signs, to the pop tunes that made the ground shake to the claw machines filled with plush animals that stared guilt-trippingly into your soul. Red apple mascots and grotesque animatronics skipped around for selfies and cries of joy (or fear) went up from the rides.
An arrow sign saying ‘TIME IS MONEY, GET MARRIED QUICK’ pointed to the chapel.
Moxie wanted to hire a Michael Crawford impersonator to officiate. When that proved to be impossible, he went off about the exclusion of very talented opera and musical theatre stars and settled for the Elvis. A smooth talking man guided them through the paperwork and told them to get back in ten minutes because the rose petals still had to be swept up from the previous wedding.
They spent that time wisely scavenging for wedding attire in the costume room of the playground. It was officially for kids, but neither Moxxie nor Millie was very tall, so they squeezed themselves into the largest wedding-appropriate costumes.
Stolas and Blitz helped Moxxie into a satin white suit with matching top hat and a cravat. They were trying to cover up a weird stain with a skull brooch when Loona’s voice came out of the women's dressing room, yelling: “f*ck yeah! You look like you’re about to kill a man!” It sent Blitz into a fit of laughter.
The chapel was made of plastic set pieces that did not block the sound from the rollercoasters in the rest of the park. Fizzarolli calling the CEO of MammonCo a cheap Ebenezer Scrooge suddenly made a lot more sense.
The dubious honour of walking Moxxie down the aisle went to Blitz, which meant Stolas would be the best man and Loona would scatter the fake rose petals.
For lack of a wedding gown, Millie wore a long black dress fit for a vampire queen, including a veil that had red patches shaped like blood splatters sewn onto them. She nearly jumped up and down from excitement.
While Loona unceremoniously dumped the entire basket of fake rose petals on the floor, Blitz sang an obnoxiously loud cover of Here comes the bride . Both of them nearly slipped on the pile of petals.
He handed Moxxie over with a wink, and said loud enough for everyone to hear: “If the bride isn’t coming tonight, call me.” Her laugh covered Moxxie’s sputtering protests.
Stolas watched with a big smile as the couple improvised some vows that involved their first meeting (Millie stabbing someone to death with a fork to save Moxxie’s life) and their first kiss (in the armoury of the Allegretti’s, between Moxxie’s sniper rifle collection). The amount of detail to them made him wonder how fake this marriage truly was.
Mox had prepared a love song as well, and went to his knees to sing it. He left Stolas no time to wonder how he’d hidden the banjo under his suit.
“Oh, what a thrill, when the crimson starts to spill… And my Millie goes in for the kill.
She takes away my breath, she's the angel of death… For me.
Oh, Millie…”
By the time he finished, a crowd of random visitors had filled the chapel. Families, bored teens and curious children spilled into the plastic seats to listen in.
Encouraged by the admiration, Moxxie started on a second song.
“ You're my pretty ray of hellfire, and you set my soul alight. I'm a flame with love, for you, my dove.
You're the sweetly-rotten pustule, on my heart as it decays. You're the stench of evil, clinging to my every dying day.”
Teary eyed, Millie pulled him to his feet. “You're the melody in every song,” she sang. “You're the reason nothing's ever wrong. You're the first thing that I think of, when I wake anew to kill again.”
Their voices blended into a harmonious crescendo.
“You're my lovely little monster, and I'll never say goodbye.”
Moxxie strummed the final notes on the banjo, smiling widely.
“I will kill for you, until the day we die.”
To his credit, the Elvis officiant was only mildly disturbed, and had probably heard wilder love declarations than ‘I will kill for you until the day I die.’ As soon as the final syllable was sung, (time was money after all), he pronounced them husband and wife.
The crowd rose to their feet in ravenous applause. Grandparents lifted their children up to see their kiss and someone scooped a handful of rose petals off the floor to throw at the couple.
Loona was on her phone the entire time, scrolling through memes and tiktoks, but Stolas saw her taking a few sneaky pictures when Millie dipped Moxxie for the kiss.
It took half an hour to get out of the chapel. Hordes of people went up to the newlyweds to congratulate them and/or ask whether the marriage had been real. They only left after the Elvis, who probably saw his money evaporate before his eyes, threw them out to start the next wedding.
Still in costume, they went for coffee. Blitz ordered something iced with lots of sugar, and for lack of tea, Stolas asked for the same. Moxxie’s order took ten minutes, and he feared the barista would quit on the spot if it weren’t for Millie glaring murder at the poor employee. Despite the floor length dress and the rose petals that were still stuck in her hair, she was as intimidating as ever.
“So. How’s the married life?” Blitz asked between two slurps.
“I think it’s great!” Millie looped her arm through Moxxie’s with more affection than strictly necessary.
He rested his chin on his hand with a sh*t eating grin on his face. “Isn’t that nice. Are you getting pegged tonight?”
“BITZ!” Moxxie slapped his hand over Blitz’s mouth. “Loona is right there!”
“Loona doesn’t give a sh*t, do you Loony?”
She did not look up from her phone, but held up her middle finger to both of them.
“Calm down honey, don’t let him get to you. It’s our wedding day!” Millie’s hand on his shoulder made Moxxie relax instantly. “While we’re here, why don’t we check out the rest of the park? I always loved this place.”
Moxie did not convinced. He eyed the apple shaped Loo Loo mascot as if it was secretly a criminal on the CIA’s most wanted list.
Blitz and Millie insisted on trying every single rollercoaster, including the ones that looked like they’d been welded together from scrap metal. After Moxxie threw up, he and Stolas decided to keep their feet on the ground and get cotton candy. The sign reading BEE'S STICKY SWEET STUFF was covered in graffiti, but it tasted heavenly.
Blitz triple dog dared Moxxie to go into the haunted house with him, but like a proper married man, he listened to his wife’s advice to sit this one out. Millie wanted to check out some hologram performances in a circus tent instead, claiming that it was a perfect combination of genuine musical talent for Mox to appreciate and a flashy neon light show for her.
Loona was still eating her extra large pink puff of edible sugar, so she went with them, leaving the haunted house to Blitz and Stolas.
The train of carts rode past a vampire and some dr. Frankenstein setup that Stolas insisted was not historically accurate, before coming to a creaking halt. The child in the front cart started to cry, because it had stopped right in front of the snapping jaws of a monstrous frog animatronic.
Blitz bumped their shoulders together. “Wanna go?”
“Go where?”
“Wherever the f*ck we want.” Blitz held up his hand.
It was an offer, a question and a dare. And why not say yes to all of those?
Stolas placed his hand in Blitz’s and let himself be pulled out of the cart. They slipped through some emergency door into another section of the haunted house. Hand in hand, they climbed over the props, setting off animatronics and sound effects, laughing as they went off.
Without the noise of the carts, or the flashing lights, it somehow felt creepier. The cold air brushed against Stolas’s chin as they walked. In the room decorated like a catacomb, skeletons stretched their robotic arms to grab them. There was something that was supposed to be a Victorian psychiatric hospital where a faulty animatronic lay twitching in a half-full bathtub. Based on the smell, Stolas suspected the dirty water was real.
The mummy, a staple in any haunted house, rose from its coffin whenever they moved their hand in front of the sensor. Blitz snapped a selfie giving it a high five.
“That thing must have some crazy abs, doing all those sit ups. I’d say smash to this one, Stols.”
“It’s a pass for me, I’m supposed to be the one tied up.”
Blitz snorted. “You passed on the hot witch too, and she 100% sidehustles as dominatrix.”
The medieval torture chamber was filled with unwilling victims, their distorted faces matching the sound effects of screams and manical laughter. Decay had eaten away at the puppets, turning them green and mottled.
The sound of footsteps made both of them jump.
“There are people here!” Stolas tugged him along to the medieval torture device shaped like a cabinet with spikes. “Hide!”
Could someone get arrested for trespassing in a haunted house? Would the staff confiscate the photos they took? That would be fun to explain to the police. I’m sorry officer, but in my defence that red devil statue was hot, so my friend took a picture of me French kissing it?
“This thing is a f*cking dustbucket,” Blitz cursed.
“I believe this is called an iron maiden.”
“Don’t think the spiders care what it’s called. I think I just ate one.”
“Shhhh!”
The footsteps closed in and they could hear voices.
“This is the eighth time this weekend we’re sent in for repairs,” someone groaned.
“Who cares? We’re paid per task,” the other voice replied.
As the footsteps faded, the door of the cabinet moved.
“sh*t, it’s closing!”
“f*ck!”
They pressed themselves together to avoid the spikes. They weren’t sharp, but still made out of metal.
Stolas’s arms wrapped around Blitz like a hug. His head lay against Stolas’s chest at the perfect height for Stolas to rest his chin on.
They tried to push at the door, but it would not budge.
Blitz shuffled a little closer until their hips pressed against each other.
“It’s too small to turn in this thing. My phone is in my back pocket, can you grab it?”
Stolas reached blindly, poking his fingers into Blitz’s jeans to find it.
“Okay so the password is Horsezarekool69 with a capital H. I need you to call Millie and-”
Stolas’s fingers trembled, and unfortunately not because he was currently fondling Blitz’s ass.He filed that fact away to gush over when he wasn’t at the onset of a panic attack.
“f*ck!” He shrieked and clamped his arms tighter around Blitz to avoid falling against the spikes. The phone clattered to the ground, echoing through the iron maiden.There wasn’t enough space to bend down and pick it up and he’d left his own phone in Blitz’s trailer.
This was the moment for a record scratch, freeze frame, “You probably wonder how I ended up in this situation?” monologue.
Stolas’s breath came in small gasps and the dust filled his airway. He remembered the squeaking, pained breaths of the Shetland sheepdog. Was this how she had felt? Choking and dying but unable to move? His chest heaved and his hands clawed at the metal behind Blitz.
“What if we’re stuck?” He whispered. “We will die here and our real bones will fall out when the next people come in!” Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes. “And they won’t even notice because it will look like part of this attraction! Blitz, we’re going to die and no one is going to find us!”
“Hey, hey!” Blitz’s hand brushed against his face. The texture of his leather gloves scratched Stolas’s cheek. “Just breathe, Birdie.”
“I don’t want to die! I’m going to f*cking die alone and-”
“Shhhh, you’re not alone.”
Stolas squeezed his eyes shut and told himself to name three things he could feel. Blitz’s hair under his chin. Blitz’s glove. Blitz’s hand on his back.
“This thing definitely opens when a ride goes past. And what did we just hear?”
Stolas remembered the footsteps of the technicians. “Two people on their way to repair the ride right now?”
“So?” Blitz urged him on.
“So we will get out whenever it starts up again.”
“Exactly. So we’re chilling in this death coffin. Gotta say, for a death coffin it’s doing a bad job.”
Stolas bit his lip until he tasted the iron twang of blood. It was familiar. Comforting. “Can you say something?”
“Like what?”
“Anything. Something ridiculous so I don’t have to think about dying.”
“Hmmm, alright.” Blitz shifted against him. “This has to be one of my top 5 freakiest hookup spots.”
Stolas laughed and one of the spikes scratched the back of his jacket. “Oh Blitzyyy,” he crooned, “I knew you wanted to nail me down, but this is quite literal.”
Blitz’s laugh reverberated in his chest. He could feel Blitz’s head shift under his chin.
“Hey Stols, wanna hear me rap the entirety of Nicki Minaj’s anaconda?”
“You can do that?”
As it turned out, the answer was yes.
He was pressed against Blitz, chest to chest and he’d touched his ass. A f*cking shame that Stolas’s anaconda wasn’t appreciating it.
After what felt like ages, (though it was an hour at most,) the music died down and the disco lights spilling to the crack on the coffin faded as the ride was switched off. Something clicked, and the door opened with a mechanical whir.
The pair stumbled out of the iron maiden, still clinging to each other.
“We’re free bitch!” Blitz yelled to no one in particular.
With the lights switched off, they had to stretch their arms to make sure they didn’t bump into things. They probably knocked over one of the torture tables with metal instruments, though it could have been the vampire’s dining table full of silverware.
Both stifled their giggles as they stumbled about, holding hands to stay close. The good thing about pitch black darkness, Stolas argued, was that no one would see if you made an idiot out of yourself.
Blitz squeezed his hand. “You okay?”
“I-” Stolas pressed a hand to his chest to steady his racing heart. “I believe so. I’m glad I was not alone.”
They were covered in spiderwebs and nearly got impaled in a ripoff medieval torture device, but Stolas heart hit his sternum for an entirely different reason.
The darkness would hide what he was about to do.
High on adrenaline and the rush of relief, he leaned down until he felt Blitz’s nose touch his own and missed his lips by a lot.
A+ for effort. After all, it was hard to judge distance when he couldn’t see dick.
He meant to try again when an employee in a Loo Loo Land polo shirt pointed a flashlight at them. “You there! No f*cking in the attractions, that requires a VIP pass. And we’re closing for today.”
f*cking co*ckblock, Stolas thought. Can’t a boy get his first kiss in peace? That would have made for a funny story ten years down the line.
My first kiss? Oh, just the usual. We were locked up in a haunted house death trap in an off-brand amusem*nt park.
The employee dumped them in the parking lot with the emotional investment of a fax machine. Millie’s kidnapping van was nowhere to be seen.
Stolas plucked a spiderweb out of his hair. “I think it tore my blazer.”
“Congrats Birdie, now you can say you’ve survived medieval torture and have the damage to prove it.”
Blitz’s phone screen had a crack in it, but it worked perfectly fine to make a call. “Millie! Where are you and your whor*bag fiance?”
“Blitz!” She scolded at the end of the line “he’s my whor*bag husband !”
Moxxie protested something and took the phone. Whatever he said sent Blitz into a rage. “What do you mean you left with Loona! We were stuck in a f*cking torture chamber. Literally.” Blitz groaned. “Christ on a stick, give me Loona.”
Stolas shuffled a little closer to catch what he could from the conversation.
“Yes. Yes. No. Yes, okay. No, I am not leaving you. I’d never leave you Loony.”
He heard something about a traffic jam because of an accident.
Clearly Blitz did not find this an acceptable excuse. “f*ck the traffic jam! Excuses excuses, just shoot ‘em all or something.” One of his eyes twitched.
“You’re a great sniper honey,” Millie said.
“Yeah, start an assassin business or something and start right now.”
Moxie groaned. “Realistic ideas, Blitz.”
Millie again: “Bodyguarding?”
“The two of us make a killer team. M&M’s personal security service. Not bad.”
Blitz shook his phone as if it were one of them. “Just shut up. Alright. Tomorrow is fine, but if anything happens to Loona, Mox, I swear I will f*ck both you and your wife.”
He shoved his phone in the pocket of his jeans. “Those daddyf*ckers left and won’t be able to pick us up until tomorrow morning.”
“Oh.” What was he supposed to say to that? Very understandable, I would forget me too?
“Looks like we’re going to have a sleepover, Stols.”
This had to be a bad time to remember the ass-touching.
Wikipedia: The free encyclopedia
Mammon’s Loo Loo Land, commonly referred to as Loo Loo Land, is a chain of amusem*nt parks in the US operated by the entertainment branch of MammonCo. Its first park opened in Mammopolis and is the largest theme park in the US, spanning approximately 2,100 hectares. It currently has two foreign locations, in London and Hong Kong.
< History
< Attractions
> Controversies
Loo Loo land has faced multiple controversies regarding the safety measures and possibility of endangering visitors. MammonCo has dismissed all concerns and referred to the terms and conditions visitors automatically agree to when entering the parks. Expansion in the European Union was halted due to failure to adhere to the OSHA safety and health legislations.
Additionally, it has faced criticism from Morningstar Inc, the parent company of the Lu Lu World theme parks. Representatives have made allegations of plagiarism, specifically regarding Loo Loo, the apple shaped mascot.
The Hideaway Motel was a crappy place by all measures. The blinds were crooked and prickly weeds grew between the tiles. The owner took Stolas’s credit card without asking for an ID. He simply shoved a pair of keys in their hands and wished them a nice evening.
Stolas leaned over and whispered: “Do you think there’s a chandelier we can take apart?”
Blitz laughed. “Hah! This place wishes. The best we can do is the towels.”
“Never say no to free stuff.”
“Man, I can’t believe it’s been over ten years.”
“Indeed. We turned out to be quite different, didn’t we? I’m no proper Goetia and you do not have your own circus.”
Blitz looked up with a faint smile. “I actually wanted to be a cowboy when I was a kid. Tall boots, my own horse and a flintlock pistol.”
That was new information. Stolas pressed his lips into a smile. “So you’re a yeehaw kind of person?”
“ A yeehaw kind of person? Really?”
“Oh please, I think Millie would take that as a compliment.”
“Shut up, Birdie. I called Millie a badass murder hoe once and she made it her discord status.”
The door to their room opened with an ear piercing creak and revealed a sooty double bed.
Stolas blushed at the implications. What in the fanfic-trope hell? “Would you like me to ask for another room? I can be passive-aggresively British about it.”
Blitz snorted. “It’s fine, I don’t think you’re gonna murder me in my sleep.”
“ What? No, of course not!”
On the list of things Stolas wanted to do in bed with Blitz, murder had to be at the bottom, while various positions from the kama-sutra filled the top ten.
The duvet filled the room with dust when they folded it open and one of the blinds was stuck, but it would do for a night.
They didn’t bring toiletries or pyjamas, so they simply splashed some water on their faces.
The bathroom contained one worn-out red robe that had been washed one too many times. It was too short on Stolas, but still better than nothing. He couldn’t really sleep shirtless.
The mirror showed his heart shaped face with big brown eyes and messy dark hair. The harsh light turned his pale skin into the same shade as the mould from the haunted house. The overall image wasn’t attractive by any means.
He dropped his head in his hands. What the f*ck was he doing? There was no way he was getting some tonight.
Stolas loosened the robe slightly to show some slu*tty shoulder anyway.
When he slipped out of the bathroom, Blitz stood with his back turned to him. Stripped down to his horse patterned boxers and tank top, and the soft glow of the lamp illuminated his silhouette. A patch of white ran over his shoulder blade and disappeared under the fabric.
Stolas wanted to trace it and see how far down it went. He quickly averted his eyes and pretended to study the pattern on the duvet cover. It was some psychedelic houndstooth that only Fizz would be able to wear without looking ridiculous.
They slid under the covers, pretending not to have stared at each other. Their heated cheeks gave them away, which they valiantly pretended not to notice.
The pillows were hard enough to pass for bricks, and Stolas sighed.
Blitz turned to face him. “Going through your life choices to find out how your fancy butt ended up in this sh*thole?”
This close face to face, Stolas could see that part of his left eyebrow had discoloured from the vitiligo.
“Trust me, I know what got me here.” He let out a weak laugh. “Ironically, it started just after I came to your circus. The visit was a bribe. I was told I was engaged that day and wouldn’t stop crying.”
Those mismatched brows furrowed into a scowl. “Weren’t we eight or something?”
“That’s old enough for a Goetia. The legitimate son of Paimon would marry a noble girl. Stella and her brother moved in with us a week after. To get to know each other, they said.”
What a joke that had been. It had been a week at most until he knew enough about Stella to fear her.
“My father is too busy fathering illegitimate children to give a f*ck, and my mother stays in one of our other houses, so the brother ran our household and excused everything his sweet sister did.”
Andrealphus always had proper words and the stiff authority of a grown up. No amount of tears could convince adults that Stolas was more than a crybaby. He needed words of his own. Fancy words. Legal words.
“Last year, my mother had another child. No one expected it. There was something about the wording in the marriage contract, after all, it was written when they thought I was the only legitimate child. It meant my baby sister would marry that ice cold bitch of a brother.”
“f*ck,” Blitz mumbled. He reached for Stolas’s hand and his fingers brushed Stolas’s. “Arranged marriages? I thought people only did that in whiny period dramas.”
Stolas scolded himself from staring. This was the absolute worst moment to appreciate how Blitz looked, laying on his side and looking at him with attentive eyes and tousled hair. He was elaborating on his f*cked up childhood, for Chirst’s sake, not really a topic for pillow talk.
“I caused a scene at my engagement party and now I am here. There was absinthe and a big fire. I am not to return unless I agree to the marriage and its contract.”
The half of Blitz’s face not on the pillow scrunched. “So the whiny bitches from 1800 exiled you? This is why the saying ‘eat the rich’ exists. Or should I say burn the rich?”
“I’m afraid I burned quite a lot of expensive furniture.”
“As you should. f*ck their sh*t up.” He turned back around to switch off the lights. “Good night Stols.”
“Good night, Blitzy.”
Stolas pulled the duvet a little higher. He’d never been scolded as harshly or for that long of a duration before. According to his watch, it had been two hours and forty-thee minutes of lecturing from Andrealphus and the majordomo. After that, he’d been locked in a guest room and shipped off to the US on the next flight from Heathrow. Economy, in a seat without extra legroom. They had even bought Mr. Butler a first class ticket to drive the point home.
“Blitzy?” He whispered.
“Hrmm?” Blitz shifted beside him. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad I’m here now.”
