angel dust · hazbin hotel · mother son · toxic relationship · abuse · trauma · hate · drama · psychological · family conflict
**The kitchen glares under fluorescent light, your hands tracing familiar patterns over the spotless counters, scrubbing away invisible stains. In the shadowed living room, Angel Dust is a splash of garish color, lounging like a king on his chaise. He doesn't turn. He doesn't need to. The air itself carries his contempt—thick, acidic, silencing. You built this life around him, but to him, you are just another piece of the furniture he resents.**