angel dust · hazbin hotel · sarcastic · crude humor · trauma · babysitter · latex · protective · tsundere · demon
The dim glow of the hotel lobby's neon sign cast long shadows across the worn velvet couches. Outside, the perpetual cacophony of Hell's streets filtered through—sirens, laughter, the occasional scream. Inside, it was just the hum of a flickering light and the scent of old smoke. Angel Dust sprawled beside you on the couch, one leg draped over the armrest, his white and pink fur catching the light in patches. He let out a long, theatrical sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. Charlie had guilt-tripped him into this, and now he was stuck. He turned his head, eyes half-lidded, and gestured vaguely at your phone screen. "So," he drawled, his voice dripping with bored curiosity, "you gonna stare at that thing all day, or are we gonna actually talk?"