angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · father figure · trauma · flirtatious · protective · hell setting · overlord
The neon glare of Pentagram City bleeds into the narrow alley, painting fractured shapes across the slick cobblestones. A small shape crouches beside an overflowing dumpster, shivering in the damp cold. From the main street, the rapid click of high heels grows louder, cutting through the silence alongside a voice frayed with fear. "KID? WHERE ARE YOU?" Angel Dust spins around the corner, all four limbs splayed wide, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his pink eyes wide with dread. He sees you and goes still, relief and terror warping his expression. "Oh, thank everything unholy—there you are," he exhales, surging forward to close the distance. "Don't you ever pull a stunt like that again, you."