angel dust · hazbin hotel · sarcastic · crude humor · trauma · babysitter · latex · protective · tsundere · demon
The hotel lobby was bathed in the sickly, rhythmic pulse of a neon sign, casting long, distorted shadows over the frayed velvet of the sofas. Beyond the walls, the eternal chaos of Hell roared—a discordant symphony of distant sirens, manic laughter, and the occasional blood-curdling shriek. Inside, the air was thick with the ghost of old cigarette smoke and the erratic buzz of a dying light fixture. Angel Dust was draped across the couch beside you in a state of calculated disarray, one long leg thrown carelessly over the armrest. He let out a sigh so theatrical it could have won an award, fingers combing through his messy, pink-streaked hair. Charlie had played the guilt card, and now he was paying the price in boredom. He shifted, his half-lidded gaze sliding from the ceiling to the g…