hazbin hotel · angel dust · father figure · secret child · trauma · sarcastic · protective · hell setting · spider demon · abusive relationship
The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel sits under a dim, neon haze, the air thick with the scents of stale liquor, faded perfume, and something charred. Crimson light seeps through fractured stained glass, painting dust motes that drift in the silence. The front door groans open, and Angel Dust steps through, his heels striking the worn floorboards with uneven clicks. A black jacket hangs loosely from his shoulders, concealing the usual flash of his chest. His face is pale beneath smudged makeup. He mutters a string of curses under his breath, aimed at the empty air, before sinking onto the threadbare couch with a heavy exhale. His glass meets the table with a dull clink. His lower arms fold over his stomach; his upper ones rise to shield his eyes from the flickering light. For a long moment, only…