A/N:

This story is not an attempt to "fix Stella's character" or sanitize her or anything meta like that. If it paints her in a more nuanced light, that is not me saying I know better than the show's writers. The goal here is just to tell an entertaining story with the characters of a fun franchise. That's all, thank you.

"It's too fucking hot!"

A teacup soared through the air like a ballistic missile, crashing against the wall and splashing its contents onto the exquisite wallpaper. The unfortunate young imp dove for cover like a soldier on the battlefield as shards of porcelain whizzed by like bullets.

"How many tries do you need to get it right?! It's fucking tea! This is the second time tonight that you fucked it up! How?!" Stella screeched in exasperation, stamping her feet. The young imp quivered in fear, for he knew the wrong words might send him flying through the manor's walls like Wile E. Coyote.

"I-I don't know, Lady Stella! I don't make the tea; that's the kitchen's job!" he said meekly, feeling that he had no choice but to deflect the blame onto the kitchen staff. Yet, instead of calming her, it only fueled her rage further.

"Excuses, excuses! That's all I ever hear from you!" Stella chastised. "Every time my tea is off, it's you! Every time I'm served the wrong wine, it's you!" Stella stepped closer to the imp, towering over him like a titan. Her eyes flashed with a dark intensity, her countenance exuding an aura of power and authority. "Is this some pathetic attempt at a joke? Do you think you're funny? Did Stolas set you up to this?!"

She reached down, grabbing the imp by his curved horns, before hurling him just as hard as she had thrown her Tupperware. The imp crashed through the wall, tumbling onto the tiled kitchen floor amidst a shower of debris. "FUCKING GET IT RIGHT BEFORE I COME IN THERE MYSELF!" Stella shrieked.

"Eh, Lady Stella?"

The Avian demon whipped around like a feral animal. "WHAT?!"

A much older, stout-looking servant stood before her with a professional and stoic expression. "I've received notice that your parents wish to speak with you," he said matter-of-factly.

Stella went slack-jawed before throwing her head back. "UUUUGGGGH! Fucking now?! Of all the fucking times, what the fuck do these fucking goddamn bastards want?!" She yells, her fury finding a new target.

"They refused to elaborate but demanded you be there no later than 30 minutes from notice. It seemed quite urgent. Shall I arrange a ride?" The butler asked.

Stella turned away from him, reaching into the pockets of her gown to pull out her emergency makeup kit, touching up her appearance.

"Noooo, I think I'll just walk," she drawled, rolling her eyes. "Or better yet, I'll take public transportation. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK? Have it here in thirty seconds! Make sure the seat warmers are on, too!" She bellowed, storming through the main chambers like a maelstrom of wrath.

Her poor husband was unfortunate enough to be in the trajectory of said maelstrom. He watched her angrily stomp past him, making a beeline for the door.

"Hm. Off to meet the parents?" Stolas asked casually, cross-legged in his seat as he flipped a book page. "Do tell your brother Andrealphus I said hello," he added sarcastically.

Stella chuckled dangerously, looking back at him. "Oh, I'll tell him just how well you're doing. Try not to fuck any of the imp servants while I'm gone," Stella snarked, her voice dripping with contempt as she yanked open the door and stepped out into the rain.

Stella lifted her dress slightly off the ground as she descended the stairs. "Thirty fucking minutes! It's fucking preposterous! And in this fucking weather, too!" Stella shouted, hurrying through the front gate. Her butler hurried beside her, holding an umbrella over her head, leaving himself uncovered.

The rain pattered against the polyester barrier as he opened the car door for her. The luxury automobile was warm inside, and three glasses of dark-bodied wine awaited her. Without hesitation, Stella grabbed the first glass and downed it in a few gulps, then grabbed the second and began sipping it as the car started up and began its journey through the stormy night.

"Mh…This is Réserve du Roi, correct?" Stella asked pointedly. The elderly butler nodded, not taking his eyes off the road. "As instructed, Lady Stella. Pulled from Stolas' wine reserve, also as instructed," he said.

Stella relaxed in her seat, an exhausted sigh escaping her beak. "I swear to fuck, you are the only competent imp in this entire fucking circle of Hell," she grumbled, resisting the urge to rub her face tiredly.

The imp driver nodded once again in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Lady Stella. I am undeserving of your praise," he said in the stoic tone he always spoke in.

"I'd hardly call it praise. Simply an acknowledgment that you're not shit at your job," Stella corrected. Before he could apologize for his misinterpretation, Stella stopped him. "You say that Mum and Father refused to elaborate. Did they not tell you anything at all?"

"Apologies, Lady Stella. They explicitly stated that the matter was not to be shared over the phone and was not for the ears of a lowly servant such as myself," he said.

Stella let her head rest against the window, feeling the vibrations gently buzz against her feathered head. A thick dread settled in Stella's stomach as she watched the rain swirl outside the window. Something wasn't right. She couldn't help but feel like something terrible awaited her at the end of this trip.