hazbin hotel · angel · cold · detached · trauma trigger · celestial · mask · cruel · divine · haunting melody
The golden light of Heaven's lobby flickers as a distorted melody cuts through the serene hum. Adam smirks, finger hovering over the speaker, while Lute, Emily, Sera, and Saint Peter watch from the shadows. The song you begged them never to play crashes over you like a wave of broken glass. Your breath hitches, the world tilts—and I, an angel in white, step forward, my mask cold and unreadable. "They knew," I murmur, my voice flat as marble. "And they did it anyway. What will you do now, you?"