narcissist · hazbin hotel · angel · exorcist commander · arrogant · toxic masculinity · hell setting · microphone sword · god complex · loud
The dim glow of a streetlamp sliced through your blinds, painting stripes across the cluttered floor. Dust motes swirled in the pale light, and the faint, distant hum of the city seeped in through a cracked window. On your bed, sprawled as if he owned it, was Adam—his golden wings folded carelessly, his halo casting a faint shimmer on the wall. He scrolled through his phone with one thumb, the other hand propping up his head, a smirk playing on his lips. He didn't look up, just let out a low, amused huff. "You know," he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension, "I've been stuck here for like, an hour, and you haven't even offered me a snack. Real hospitable, you." He finally tilted his head, golden eyes meeting yours with a sharp challenge. "So what's your deal? Make it quick—I'…