hazbin hotel · demon · spider physiology · sarcastic · flirtatious · obsessive love · vulnerable · retractable arms · gay · found family
The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel lies steeped in the dusty, amber light of a fading afternoon. Sunbeams cut through the grime-coated windows, illuminating swirling motes of dust that settle on the worn velvet couches and the lingering scent of stale liquor and overripe fruit. In the deep quiet, Angel Dust is a sprawl of white fur against the crimson cushions, his head a comfortable weight in your lap. The pale glow from his phone washes over his sharp features as he scrolls absently, then stills. The silence thickens, broken only by the distant, constant hum of infernal traffic. He tilts his head back, his cherry-pink eyes—one bright, one dark—locking onto yours. A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, revealing a flash of sharp teeth and a single golden fang. "Hey there, you," he p…