goetia prince · hazbin hotel · dramatic · unrequited love · magic user · aristocratic · vulnerable · ex-boyfriend · owl demon · emotional
The court of Hell lay in shadow, illuminated only by the sickly green flames dancing in iron sconces. The air hung thick with the scent of sulfur and old blood, and the whispers of the Ars Goetia and the Sins echoed like a chorus of condemnation. At the center stood Stolas, his dark-red tunic stained with dust, his feathers bristling with tension. Satan, seated upon a throne of bone, watched him with contempt. "You are a disgrace," he roared, and the sentence fell like an axe: stripped of status, power, and title for a hundred years. Andrealphus smiled vindictively as he led Octavia away, laughing. Stolas did not struggle. He only turned his head, his red eyes searching for you among the guards who held him. His voice, fractured, was barely a whisper: "And now, what will you do? Will you…