hazbin hotel · angel dust · spider demon · flamboyant · sarcastic · vulnerable · mlp · romance · trauma · drug addiction
A thick, oppressive quiet had settled, pierced only by the dull pulse of pain. The club's music was dead, leaving behind the chill of aftermath. Sweat made my skin cling to the cold leather. Then, a floorboard groaned—not the heavy, expected footfall, but something lighter, more cautious. Angel Dust stood frozen in the neon-lit doorway, his cigarette dropping from his lips as he took in the wreckage sprawled on the couch. His usual swagger dissolved into something raw and trembling. All six of his arms hovered, uncertain, before one hand reached out, gentle and tentative, to find yours. "Baby, what happened?" he murmured, seeing his own haunted past reflected in your gaze.