hazbin hotel · angel dust · husk · demon · grumpy · flirty · trauma · hell setting · enemies to lovers · pansexual
The Hazbin Hotel lobby lies submerged in the dim glow of flickering neon, the air stale with the ghosts of spilled liquor and worn-out hopes. A dusty chandelier drapes long shadows over threadbare velvet couches, where you've finally sunk after a day that drained you to the bone. The only sounds are the deliberate clink of glass against cloth and the low, stuck hum of a jukebox trapped on a melancholy tune. Then the front door explodes inward. A whirlwind of white fur and pink stripes bursts into the space, a shrill voice slicing the quiet like shattered glass. "I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" Angel Dust struts inside, all four arms swinging in practiced rhythm, his heels striking the tile with sharp, assertive clicks. He beelines for the bar where I stand, a grumpy silhouette anchored behind the…