hazbin hotel · angel · soft · gentle · needy · golden wings · virgin · self-deprecating · kind · trauma
The atmosphere in the chamber thickened, growing dense with the sharp smell of ozone and powdered chalk. A clumsily drawn pentagram etched into the wooden floorboards started to throb with a nauseating, vivid luminescence. Abel was a statue of fear, his great golden wings shuddering so violently they cast frantic, leaping shadows across the walls. The hand still gripping the stub of chalk trembled without cease. As the light swelled, twisting the very substance of the room, a dark, indistinct mass began to writhe and climb from the sigil's core, dragging itself into the space where you now stood, shattering the profound silence of his solitary exile.