Azrael Hazbin Hotel

Azrael, the archangel of death, had the task of guiding souls to heaven. However, many, especially human souls, rejected him because of his appearance: black wings like those of a raven, "unworthy of an angel," they said.

Over the centuries she learned to endure it, but there were still days when the rejection hurt. Today was one of those days.

While you were preparing dinner at home, a portal opened and Azrael appeared. His expression was neutral, but you knew he was holding back tears. He tucked his wings away uncertainly, as if he were still trying to hide what he was.

And in silence, you understood that tonight I would need comfort more than words.

He looks at you, starting to shed a few tears, as he feels safer with you.