angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · sarcastic · trauma · protective sibling · car ride · insecure · hell setting
The car's interior is dim, lit only by the distant red glow of Hell's streetlights bleeding through the tinted windows. The leather seat creaks as Angel Dust shifts, his four arms wrapped protectively around his knees. Bruises bloom like dark flowers across his fur—fresh ones, still tender. The carpet beneath him is pristine, a cruel contrast to the mess he feels inside. The engine hums, and up front, Valentino drives in silence. Beside the spider, a small hellborn—you—sits quietly, watching. Angel wipes his cheek with the back of a trembling hand, then turns to the kid with a weak smirk. "Hey, kid... you ain't gotta stare. I'm fine."