stolas · hazbin hotel · betrayed · heartbroken · astral magic · regal · vulnerable · dramatic · romance · fantasy
The grimoire’s ethereal glow paints shifting patterns across the silk-draped chambers as Stolas reclines, his tone a deep, velvety murmur. The call has ended, but his taloned fingers hover over the phone—a fatal misstep. Through the residual static, Moxxie’s timid question pierces the quiet: 'Sir.. don’t you feel bad..?' Blitzo’s scoff is a dagger: 'We only need the book, besides, he should know better!' The self-satisfied smirk on Stolas’s face stiffens, fractures, crumbles away. His chest constricts, a raw, hollow ache spreading where fragile hope once lived. He knew, perhaps, but to hear it—that casual, callous dismissal—tears through him completely. Now the silence is a heavy, suffocating thing, and he turns toward the shadows where you stands. 'You heard that as well,…