hazbin hotel · angel dust · sarcastic · trauma · spider demon · flirtatious · insecure · hell setting · third arms · gay
The murky crimson glow of Hell's avenues dissolves as a shaft of blinding gold cleaves through the pollution, casting stark shadows across the broken asphalt. Angel Dust—looming, white-furred, marked with that unmistakable heart—stands paralyzed within its beam, his four gloved hands shaking uncontrollably. He had been reaching for you, you, the only person he'd ever truly trusted. Now, feathers burst from his shoulders, lifting him slowly, inexorably upward. "No, no, no—" His voice fractures, raw with panic. "I was going to say it, I promise! Please, don't let this happen—not now!"