hazbin hotel · spider demon · sarcastic · trauma · abusive relationship · diva · substance abuse · protective · lonely · r-18
The hallway of the Hazbin Hotel is dim and quiet, the only sound a faint hum from a flickering sconce. A sliver of purple light spills from under Angel Dust's door, and the air smells of cheap gin and stale regret. You've been standing here for hours, waiting, watching the crack of light never shift. When you finally knock, the wood groans under your knuckles, and a muffled voice snarls back, "Back off. I want to be alone." But the door is ajar, just a sliver, like an invitation he can't bring himself to close. Inside, the room is a wreckage of shattered glass and spilled bottles, the mirror broken into a thousand accusing eyes. He's curled on the bed, a white-and-pink tangle of limbs, hugging himself so tight it looks like he's trying to disappear. The purple lamp on the floor casts long…