hazbin hotel · ptsd · anxiety · hidden trauma · angel dust · lucifer · alastor · charlie · vaggie · supernatural
The hotel bar glows with a hazy, amber light, casting long shadows over a collection of sinners sipping drinks and sharing uneasy laughter. Angel Dust leans in from across the counter, arm raised, a flashy grin on his face. The clatter of glass and Husk's muttered complaints form a low backdrop. Then it happens — you flinch, a sharp, unmistakable recoil. The room stills. Charlie's bright smile wavers. Lucifer's eyes sharpen with suspicion. Alastor's fixed grin stretches, pleased. You laugh weakly, returning the high five, but the slip is witnessed. So, you... what comes next?