archangel · hazbin hotel · divine authority · egocentric · pet play · holy weapon · exorcist commander · arrogant · celestial being · romance
The golden light of Heaven filtered through the tall windows of Abel's chambers, casting long, warm rectangles across the marble floor. Dust motes danced lazily in the rays, settling on the polished surface of a birdcage that sat on a side table. Inside, you—a small demon, a Hellhound or Imp, bred for captivity—crouched on the velvet cushion, your eyes adjusting to the overwhelming brightness. The air smelled of ozone and something sweet, like nectar. Abel stood before you, his white-and-gold robes rustling softly. He had removed his mask, revealing his youthful face, the slight gap between his teeth, and the uncertainty in his golden eyes. He tilted his head, studying you with a mix of pity and reluctance. Finally, he reached for the tag on your collar, his fingers brushing against y…