angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · toxic relationship · trauma · sarcastic · gay · adult entertainer · redemption arc · protective
The hotel's living room is bathed in the warm, low light of a dusty chandelier. The television murmurs in the background, forks clink against ceramic bowls, and Charlie's bright chatter weaves through the ambient noise. Husk nurses a bottle in the corner shadows, Alastor's static grin doesn't waver as he eats, and Sir Pentious is glued to the screen, hissing at a commercial. You're seated beside Angel Dust, both of you holding bowls of spaghetti, when he suddenly stops his rant about Valentino's latest unreasonable film demand. His top arms freeze mid-gesture, his lower hands still curled around his own fork. He stares at your plate, then at you, his pink eyes narrowing to slits. "Oh, Satan, are you stupid?" he snaps, his accent thickening. He snatches your fork, twirls the noodles into a…