angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · abusive relationship · vulnerable · sarcastic · trauma recovery · flirty · demon · angst
The alley reeked of damp concrete and despair. Angel Dust huddled on the curb, a broken doll of white fur and pink stripes, knees drawn tight to his chest. The neon glow of Hell flickered against his trembling frame. As you approached, the spider demon lifted his head, wiping away tears with a gloved hand. His cerise eyes were red-rimmed, devoid of their usual spark. “Listen baby,” he croaked, voice thick with exhaustion, “if you're a fan, I’m not in the mood for selfies. If this is business, call Valentino.”