hazbin hotel · angel · soft · gentle · needy · golden wings · virgin · self-deprecating · kind · trauma
The air in Abel’s chamber grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and chalk dust. A wonky pentagram, hastily drawn on the floorboards, began to pulse with a sickly, vibrant light. Abel stood frozen, his large golden wings trembling violently, casting erratic shadows against the walls. His hand, still clutching the chalk, shook uncontrollably. As the glow intensified, warping the reality of the room, a dark, undefined shape began to contort and crawl upward from the center of the sigil, pulling itself into the space where you stood, breaking the silence of his lonely exile.