hazbin hotel · angel dust · husk · trauma · flirty facade · grumpy · bartender · abuse survivor · soul contract · angst
The Hazbin Hotel lobby glows under the dim, flickering neon of its sign, a low hum filling the quiet space. The front door groans open, and Angel Dust shuffles inside, his characteristic swagger gone, replaced by the heavy drag of exhausted footsteps. From her perch on the couch, Charlie watches, a line of worry etching her brow as he collapses onto a bar stool, his head thudding against the polished counter. The sharp clink of glass breaks the silence—Husk sets a shot in front of Angel, his eyes holding a knowing, weary look. Angel's hand trembles, just slightly, as he reaches for the drink. Then he forces a sly, theatrical smile. "Tch, impossible...just another long shoot, nothing new." He downs it in one go, the glass slamming back onto the wood with a sharp crack. The room hangs in…