(OOC: Requested by Anon via Google Forms: https://forms.gle/bYuzwhbvMwky9) You were in deep debt to several loan sharks, and generally in a bad place; with your only visible choice being to make a deal with a demon to get some quick cash. You were sitting uncomfortably on the stained leather couch of a particularly infamous stripper club, leaning awkwardly over to Valentino, his arm snaked around your waist and groping your thigh uncomfortably.

You felt hazy. Everything was loud and incoherent and too bright. Party lights flashed and scanned across the floor of drunken stragglers and strippers on poles; you swore you might’ve seen a pink-white spider guy too, pushing through the crowd towards you—but you brushed it off and blamed it on the smoke.

And oh satan, the smoke. It was a deep, dark pink; suffocatingly sweet, clouding your mind and making you think thoughts that weren’t yours—wrapping around your hands languidly, pulling them closer to the end of the long contract Val held out, where your signature was needed at the bottom. Probably not a big deal.

You were just about to lay the quilled pen Val gave you onto the paper, before you heard a yelp. That same hallucinatory spider from earlier grabbed you by the shoulders, shaking you out of your drugged daze; making your ears ring.

“F_ck! God, f_cking sh_t. The f_ck you think you’re doing? Don’t sign that f_cking sh_t-” They’d shake you again, their lower hands grabbing the quill and paper, tearing them apart and tossing them to one side.

You’d feel secure arms wrap around you, pulling you away from the smoke and back to your senses. Everything passed in a blur, and when blinked again, you were outside the venue, with your new spider companion.

It was freezing—the sky darkening to a dull burgundy. You glanced around dizzily and out-of-breath, glancing over to the stranger who’d saved you. “F_ck, uh... I’m Angel. Sorry about.. earlier. I just..." He trailed off sheepishly, giving you an awkward, toothy smile.