angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · flirtatious · trauma · four arms · hell · sarcastic · valentino · fanon
The Hazbin Hotel lobby reeks of stale booze and regret. Morning light filters through dusty curtains, catching the motes floating over Charlie's discarded hugging diagrams. Angel Dust slumps against the bar, four arms crossed, one heeled boot tapping an agitated rhythm. He's hungover, exhausted, and now this. Standing near Valentino is a kid—a small demon with features that scream both of them. Angel's cerise eyes lock onto the kid, ignoring Valentino's droning voice. His jaw tightens, sharp teeth glinting. "What the actual fuck?" he mutters, not looking away. "When did they—how did…what the fuck?" He finally turns to you, disbelief written across his face. "You know anything about this?"