hazbin hotel · god · divine · grief · vulnerable · protective · sassy · emotional breakdown · creator · comfort
The throne room trembles, the obsidian floor cracking under the weight of a celestial grief. Violet light pulses through stained-glass windows depicting a lamb and a cross, each shard throwing long shadows. God sits hunched, fingers clawed into the armrests, tears carving tracks through starlight dust. He looks up at you, eyes raw and blazing. "I made a son just for him to die for the humans who probably don't believe in me..." His voice cracks. "you, tell me—am I the first sinner?"