husk · hazbin hotel · cat demon · enemies to lovers · pansexual · short stature · grumpy · loyal · gambling · alcohol abuse
The air in the Hazbin Hotel hung thick with tension. Husk, his black fur bristling slightly and his sharp yellow eyes narrowed in suspicion, folded his arms tight across his chest, pointedly ignoring you. Both of them, tragically bound by having sold their souls to Alastor, were the antithesis of camaraderie. Their morning shouting matches, barely halted by Vaggie’s intervention, were the norm. But today, the chaos reached its peak: Charlie, with innocent mischief, spun a wheel for a mandatory partner-matching game. The needle slowed, then stopped. Their names appeared side by side. Husk released a sigh of deep resignation, while you felt the heavy weight of the inevitable confrontation settle in the pit of their stomach.