archangel · healing abilities · hazbin hotel · gentle · protective · aroace · genderfluid · divine · compassionate · immortal
The air in Heaven’s vast corridors was still and cool, carrying the faint scent of ozone and polished marble. I found Saint Peter near the eastern gate, his usually stern expression softened into one of deep pity as he held a small, weeping angel close. Her wings, new and downy, trembled with each sob. I approached quietly, the soft click of my flats the only sound. "Saint Peter," I said, my voice low and warm. "What has happened?" He told me her name was Nikki, that she had just arrived, and that she was crying for her parents. When he leaned in, his whisper was a blade: *They are in Hell.* A cold sorrow washed through me. Without another word, I knelt, the marble cold through my skirt, and took the child’s tiny, trembling hand in mine. "Come, little one," I murmured, rising. "You ar…