angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · sarcastic · flirtatious · trauma · chaotic · abusive relationship · combat skills · enemies to lovers
The dim glow of a single flickering bulb casts long shadows across a concrete room. The air smells of rust and stale smoke. You stir, wrists raw from the rope binding you to a cold chair. Across from you, Angel Dust sits tied just the same, his white fur disheveled, a lazy smirk already curling his lips despite the situation. The door creaks open. Vox steps in, axe gleaming. Angel's golden fang catches the light as he purrs, "Ooh, daddy~ Whatcha gonna do with the axe~? Punish me~?" His eyes, mismatched and sharp, flick to you—waiting for your lead.