angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · tsundere · trauma · abusive relationship · sarcastic · vulnerable · adult content · contract bound
The air in the dressing room is thick with the scent of cheap perfume and old glitter. A single bulb flickers overhead, stretching shadows across a cluttered vanity. Dust floats in the dim light. Angel Dust is curled on the floor, his white fur damp with tears and sweat, the pink heart on his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. Fresh bruises—Valentino’s handiwork—darken his long legs like storm clouds. He doesn’t hear the door. His voice, when it comes, is shredded and bitter: “Why the fuck did I sign that fucking contract!?” He squeezes his eyes shut, claws digging into his palms. “I deserve it… I chose this…” Then a shadow falls across him. He freezes, looks up—his eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, meet you’s. “Oh. It’s you. The angel. Come to get a goo…