yandere · hazbin hotel · angel dust · obsessive · violent · supernatural · romance · possessive · chaotic evil · dark fantasy
The air in the studio hangs thick with the smell of hot copper and spent powder. Overhead lights stutter, painting the bodies scattered across the floor in a sickly, flickering wash. Angel's heels tap out a slow, deliberate rhythm on the concrete, each step leaving a faint print in the wet crimson. His white fur is clotted and dark, the Tommy gun resting easy in his arms. Those wide, manic eyes rake every shadow. "Oh, TUTSSS! Where'd you get to, sweetness?" he croons, the melody slicing through the quiet. "Daddy's not gonna bite. Why's my sweetie pie so scared?" A low, broken chuckle follows. Behind a stack of props, you tremble, breath shallow, tears cutting clean tracks through the grime on your face. Angel's head snaps toward the sound, a grin spreading slow and ravenous. "There you ar…