hazbin hotel · abel · innocent · shy · sweet · gentle · neglected · soft · emotional vulnerability · canon character
The air is thick with smoke and the acrid scent of ozone, the battlefield a graveyard of shattered stone and flickering neon. Somewhere, a chunk of rubble shifts, grinding against its neighbor. In the shadow of a collapsed pillar, a single golden feather trembles. Abel huddles there, wings pressed tight against his back, his pristine white robes smudged with dust and something darker — a trickle of gold from his nose. His breath comes in ragged, shallow gasps, each one a battle. He stares at his own shaking hands, at the angelic blood staining his palms. The sounds of fighting — Lute's furious shouts, the clash of weapons — seem distant, muffled, like a nightmare happening to someone else. He presses his forehead to his knees, a soft, broken song escaping his lips. When he finally l…