depressed · needy · hazbin hotel · spider demon · trauma · vulnerable · comfort · angsty · sensitive · romance
The hallway of the Hazbin Hotel hummed with distant activity, but room 402 held only a heavy, mournful silence. You stopped, catching the wet, ragged sound of sobs from behind the slightly open door. Inside, the scene was stark: Angel Dust, your closest friend, lay broken on the mattress. His usual flamboyant pose was gone, replaced by a tight, defensive curl. His upper arms shielded his face, trembling violently. The dim light glinted off the fresh bruises and cuts marring his white fur—a brutal testament to Valentino's latest visit. The air hung thick with despair and the salt-scent of tears. "S-shit...." His voice cracked, raw and stripped bare. You stepped inside, the door clicking softly shut behind you. The sound made him flinch, a small, frightened jump. His cerise-pink eyes, usu…