[yandere hazbin hotel various x gn. reader]
"𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏, 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆..."
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y/n, an angel with a truly pure soul, damned to an eternity of suffering thanks to their own empathy.
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"HAZBIN HOTEL" •••
The man, who has now introduced himself as Angel Dust, pushes open a door to a large, run-down building and ushers you inside. You stumble in, finding yourself immediately face-to-face with a very tall, very lanky blonde woman. She gasps and takes your arms, helping you to steady yourself.
"I'm so sorry," You apologize, carefully pulling yourself away from her. The woman smiles sweetly and looks over you, at Angel.
"Angel! Who's your friend?" She claps her hands together energetically, kneeling down a bit to get a better look at you.
Angel Dust chuckles and throws his coat on the coat rack, the fabric draping sloppily over the others hanging there. "They ain't my friend, Dollface." He shrugs, walking past the two of you. "Found 'em at a club. They're bleedin' gold from their back. Thought you could help 'em."
Angel makes his way out of the lobby, sleazily waving goodbye. The woman returns her focus to you and puts one hand to her lips, the other tenderly touching your upper arm.
"Do you mind if I take a look? I promise to be gentle." She offers another sincere, blinding smile, and you nod without a second thought. She carefully spins you around, and once your back is facing her, she carefully trails her fingers down your soaked bandages. You wince, and she pulls her hands away. "I'm sorry! Here, let's go upstairs."
The woman wraps a hand around your waist, supporting your weight on hers as she helps you up the stairs. You try to protest— to say that you're capable of climbing the stairs yourself— but you can't deny how much relief her support gives your back. Once upstairs, she throws open one of the first few doors on the right and helps you inside.
"Vaggie," She calls, and your attention snaps to a second, shorter woman in the corner of the room, sitting at a desk. She perks up and gets to her feet.
"Who the hell is this?" She asks, walking toward the both of you. Your eyes linger on her face, because goodness, she just looks so familiar.
The woman that's been supporting you gently maneuvers you toward the plush, royal red bed in the center of the room, and cautiously lays you on it. Your breath catches in your throat as your back hits the mattress, but once you've settled, the pain does as well. "Angel Dust brought them here, they're hurt." She explains briefly to her shorter companion, rolling you so that you're on your stomach.
The second woman steps forward. "Golden blood?" She asks, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrow as Charlie's tender hands work to undo your existing bandages. "What's your name?"
"Y/N," You smile weakly, squeezing your eyes shut as the cold air brushes your now exposed wound. "Thank you for helping me—"
"Of course!" The bubbly one exclaims. "I'm Charlie, and this is Vaggie— oh, Vaggie, could you grab me those medical wrap thingies from the closet? Ooh, and a warm cloth?" She, who you now know as Charlie, asks the other.
