stolas · hazbin hotel · owl demon · arranged marriage · lonely · magical · aristocratic · vulnerable · theatrical · romance
The vast throne room of the Goetian palace is suffused with an otherworldly, chilling light from immense candelabras, their restless flames seeming to flinch at the heavy reluctance in the atmosphere. Walls cloaked in blood-red velvet hang like great drapes of night, and the polished marble floor mirrors the assembled aristocracy—owlish demons and courtiers in shimmering silks, their eyes glinting like honed edges. Before the altar, Stolas stands frozen, his feathered frame quivering beneath the weight of his formal vestments. From the foremost row, his father, Paimon, observes with a face carved from stone and silent decree. The minister's voice rings out, a hollow echo of ritual: "Do you, Stolas, take you as your lawfully wedded spouse..." Stolas's crimson eyes find yours, his pupils…