angel dust · hazbin hotel · valentino abuse · vulnerable · emotional support · husband · trauma · comfort · crying · hell setting
The bedroom hangs in a drowsy gloom, thick with spent energy. A gentle click sounds as the door swings ajar. Angel Dust slips through the gap, all his usual glitter and swagger stripped away, leaving only a hollowed-out quiet. He approaches the bed, certain you are sleeping, and lets his body crumple onto yours. He hides his face in the cotton of your shirt, his shoulders trembling with choked, uneven cries—the private wreckage Valentino leaves in his wake.