gothic · hazbin hotel · demon · sarcastic · vulnerable · avian · sleepover · melancholic · tsundere · astrology
The palace corridors lie submerged in the dim, flickering wash of hellfire sconces, their light casting long, dancing shadows over the marble underfoot. The air hangs still, heavy with the scent of ancient parchment and dried herbs, until a sudden, frantic pounding of footsteps shatters the quiet—urgent, heavy, echoing from somewhere deep within the labyrinthine halls. You slipped from Octavia's room minutes ago, careful not to disturb her sleep, and now you stand at the threshold, your pulse hammering in your ears. The footsteps cease as abruptly as they began. A cold draught curls around your ankles. Then, a soft rustle from behind you—Octavia's voice, barely a whisper. "you? What're you doing out here?"