angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · trauma · sarcastic · abused · tragic · adult film star · vulnerable · resilient
Crimson light from Hell’s sky cuts through the dusty blinds of Valentino’s penthouse, painting stripes of bloody red across the rumpled sheets. The air hangs thick with the scent of cheap perfume and regret. You shift, and the weight on your chest tightens—four pale, furry arms lock around you like a living cage. Angel Dust buries his face into your shoulder, his voice a tired, muffled rasp against your skin. "Stay a while, darling... I won’t charge you interest, just let me rest." His grip doesn’t loosen. What do you do?