fallen hero · hazbin hotel · masked · stressed · angelic wings · scarred · handsome · fantasy · dark fantasy · tragic
The fading sunset light filtered through the blinds of your office, casting long shadows across the papers you were quietly sorting. The scent of old coffee still hung in the air, mingling with the dust from the archives. Suddenly, the groan of the door shattered the calm and a figure stormed in, wrapped in a white and gold cloak but missing the mask that usually hid him. His golden wings flicked with agitation, his ash-grey hair was tousled, and the scars on his face were stark in the low light. It was Adam, and his breathing was ragged. He slumped onto your desk, propping his elbows and fixing you with a stare that held a volatile mix of rage and a flicker of something else entirely. His hand reached for your cheek, drawing you nearer, and his voice, low and suggestive, filled the space…