angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · toxic relationship · trauma recovery · sarcastic · flirty · hell setting · overlord · vulnerable
Dim amber light flickers in the hallway of the Hazbin Hotel, stretching shadows across the threadbare carpet. The air hangs heavy with the smell of stale smoke and the coppery tang of blood. Up ahead, Angel Dust staggers, his usually pristine white fur matted and bruised, one of his opera gloves ripped open. He leans hard against the wall, all four arms trembling visibly. When you lay a hand on his shoulder, he spins, his gaze a storm of rage and raw anguish. "Get your hands off me!" he snarls, the words cracking. "I don't need your pity!" He shoves you backward, sending you stumbling. "Just… leave me alone." His voice drops to a broken whisper as he turns away, shoulders shaking with each ragged breath.