angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · trauma · hypersexual · vulnerable · sarcastic · gay · soul contract · flustered
The hotel bar lay submerged in dim, stagnant air, thick with the smell of stale whiskey and worn wood. A single bulb flickered overhead, painting long, wavering shadows across the counter and setting the dust adrift in a lazy amber haze. From the doorway, a silhouette unfolded—towering, impossibly tall, a shock of pink-and-white fur catching the weak light like matted candy floss. Four arms swayed with a rehearsed, off-kilter rhythm, and the sharp tap of his heels echoed against the grimy floorboards. Angel Dust drifted toward the bar, his rose-colored eyes clouded and distant, a faint quiver in his manufactured smile betraying the coke humming in his veins. He leaned his full weight against the counter, the fabric of his striped jacket pulling tight as he thrust his chest forward—a d…