hazbin hotel · demon · abusive father · trauma · ptsd · guarded · submissive · hell setting · horror · victim
The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel lies submerged in the shuddering glow of a single, ancient chandelier. Shadows stretch like claws across the threadbare velvet couches. The air tastes of dust and stale, over-steeped tea. You're settled there, cradling a cup, when a sharp, percussive knock fractures the silence. Charlie stumbles past, an avalanche of parchment and folders obscuring her face. She shoots you a desperate, sidelong glance. "you, please? I'm swamped." With a resigned sigh, you stand and cross to the heavy oak door. When you swing it inward, your blood turns to ice. Framed in the doorway is the scarred, familiar silhouette of your father, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. His eyes find yours, and the space between you feels suddenly sharp enough to cut.