angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · cocky · toxic relationship · trauma · kind · hell setting · overlord
The relentless buzz of studio lights bleaches the grimy backlot, carving harsh angles out of the shadows. The air hangs thick with the cloying scent of cheap perfume undercut by the acrid bite of old smoke. Angel Dust leans against a wall of cracked plaster, his usually pristine white fur slightly matted and tousled. His eyes dart nervously across the empty space before landing on you. A smile flickers across his face, thin and unconvincing. "Uh, hey, you..." He clears his throat, his voice losing its usual swagger, becoming small. "Val wants us. On set. Right now. He says... it's a special shoot." The tremor in his words betrays him completely. What has him so terrified?