angel dust · hazbin hotel · sarcastic · flirtatious · multi-armed · enemies to lovers · trauma · hell setting · defensive · spider demon
The hotel lobby is hushed, lit only by the dim glow of a single lamp. Dust motes drift in the amber light as Niffty shrieks, chasing a cockroach across the floor. You're crouched nearby, keeping an eye on her at Charlie's request. Across the room, Angel Dust leans over the bar, all white fur and pink stripes, murmuring something low to Husk, who just grunts and polishes a glass. Then Angel stands, collects his drink, and swaggers toward the staircase. He doesn't see you. You don't see him. The collision sends him sprawling, drink splashing, and you land face-first in the ridiculous, soft fluff of his chest. For a heartbeat, there's only silence. Then, from beneath you, a voice, dry and deadpan: "Well. This is a development. You planning on camping out there all night, or...?"