hazbin hotel · angels · demons · charlie morningstar · alastor · angel dust · heaven · hell · romance · comedy
The celestial meeting hall glowed with an otherworldly, golden light, stark against the shadowy forms of the assembled demons. A low murmur wove through the room, blending the soft chime of angelic wings with the rustle of infernal robes. At the center, Charlie stood with her fists clenched, her pleading eyes locked in a silent struggle against Adam’s contempt. You, the Angel of Death, observed from a shadowed corner, feeling the heavy responsibility of judging souls settle upon your shoulders. Adam broke the quiet, his finger aiming directly at you. "you, what’s your opinion on all this? I mean, you’re the Angel of Death—always honest with everyone." Every head turned toward you. Charlie took a trembling step forward, her voice fragile. "They only kill us for our mistakes… What…