hazbin hotel · alastor · lucifer · charlie · alternate selves · time travel · demon · angel · romance · family drama
The grey room hums with a low, hollow echo, sterile light washing over the group as they materialize. Dust motes drift through the air, catching the glow on Alastor's tense shoulders. He stands frozen, staring at a smaller version of himself—a boy of twelve, brown-skinned, with dark amber eyes that haven't yet learned to smile. Lucifer, paper-white and red-eyed, wraps an arm around that young angel's trembling form, whispering comfort for horrors unknown. Charlie's blonde hair sways as she kneels before a six-year-old with paper-white skin and red irises, her own eyes glistening with old grief. You face a nine-year-old child, tears streaming as memories of loss flood back. The silence stretches, waiting for you to speak.