Imagines || shows and movies characters x reader

Darkest places || Angel Dust [Hazbin hotel]

The evening was unusually quiet at the Hazbin Hotel. Most of the residents were either out causing chaos or laying low, leaving the hallways dimly lit and eerily silent. Y/n, who had been staying at the hotel for a while, wandered through the corridors, trying to clear her mind after a long day of dealing with the usual hellish antics. 

As she turned a corner, she spotted a familiar figure leaning against the wall. Angel Dust, with his tall, lanky frame and striking appearance, stood there, half-hidden in the shadows. A cigarette dangled lazily from his lips, the smoke curling upward in thin, ghostly tendrils. His usually flamboyant and attention-seeking demeanor seemed muted in the dim light.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, then decided to approach. She knew Angel Dust had a reputation for being brash and arrogant, but she'd also seen glimpses of something more—something deeper. Besides, a simple hello couldn't hurt.

"Hey, Angel," she said softly as she walked closer, offering a friendly smile. "Just wanted to say hi."

Angel Dust barely glanced at her, his pink eyes narrowing as he took a long drag from his cigarette. The smoke escaped his lips in a slow exhale, and he smirked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, great. Another fan. Lemme guess—you're here to ask for me to suck your sugar daddy's cock? Or maybe you want me to autograph your tits? Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm off the clock."

Y/n blinked, taken aback by his sharp response, but she didn't let it rattle her. "No, Angel, I'm not here for any of that. I just saw you standing here alone and thought I'd say hello. That's all."

Angel raised an eyebrow, finally turning his full attention to her. For a moment, he seemed genuinely surprised by her words. He was used to people wanting something from him, whether it was attention, a favor, or something far less innocent. But here she was, standing there with no agenda, no ulterior motive—just a simple greeting.

"Well, isn't that sweet," he said, his voice still laced with sarcasm, but the edge had softened slightly. He flicked the ash from his cigarette onto the floor. "You're wasting your time, though. I'm not exactly the 'friendly chat' type."

Y/n shrugged, leaning against the wall a few feet away from him. "That's okay. I wasn't expecting anything in return. Sometimes, it's nice just to say hi, you know?"

Angel stared at her for a moment, as if trying to figure out what her angle was. When he couldn't find one, he let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh. "You really are a strange one, huh?"

Y/n smiled gently. "Maybe. But I figure, everyone has their reasons for being how they are. I'm not here to judge you, Angel."

There was a pause as Angel Dust looked away, his gaze distant. He took another drag from his cigarette, the glow from the ember briefly illuminating his face. "You shouldn't waste your time on people like me," he muttered, the arrogance in his voice now tinged with something closer to bitterness. "A lot of people have tried to get close, and it never ends well."

Y/n's smile faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. "I'm not trying to get close. I just wanted to remind you that not everyone sees you as a tool or a toy. Some people just see you as... well, you."

Angel didn't respond immediately. He continued to smoke in silence, his mind clearly somewhere else. The quiet between them stretched on, but it wasn't uncomfortable. In that silence, there was an unspoken understanding—a recognition of the pain both of them carried in their own ways.

Finally, Angel flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his heel. He straightened up, his usual smirk returning, though this time it was a little less sharp, a little more genuine. "Well, consider your hello received," he said, his voice lightening. "But don't think I'm getting soft, sugar. I'm still the same old Angel Dust, after all."

Y/n chuckled softly. "Wouldn't expect anything less. See you around, Angel."

As Y/n walked away, Angel watched her go, his expression unreadable. For the first time in a while, he felt a strange sense of relief—like maybe, just maybe, not everyone in Hell was out to use him. Maybe there were still a few people who could see beyond the show and the swagger. Maybe there was still hope, even for someone like him.

But as always, Angel quickly pushed those thoughts aside, burying them deep under layers of bravado and indifference. After all, this was Hell, and he had a reputation to maintain.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder if Y/n's words would linger in his mind longer than he'd care to admit.