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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 3 days

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Blaire Hopburn: My Favourite Character From My Least Favourite Piece of Media

So there's this webcomic called Lease Bound. It's set in Australia in 2017, and it follows Jaden and Riley, two lesbians forced to share an apartment after a mix-up with their leases (hence the title).

It was promoted as a lesbian love story, but it soon became pretty notorious for transphobia.

Jaden works as a bouncer for a female-only lesbian bar, and in Chapter 3, she refuses to let in three trans women, who don't take it well. The webcomic was heavily criticised for the way the trans women were drawn and how they behaved.

Years later, Lease Bound is still being updated regularly - in fact, Chapter 11 introduced a load of trans men and enby characters.

I've been following the updates for a while. The webcomic expresses a lot of views that I do not agree with - namely, that trans women are dangerous perverted men, and that trans men and enbies are either attention-seeking straight women or queer women too scared to question the "trans ideology cult".

And yet I keep coming back. It's partly out of morbid curiosity, to see what on Earth is going to happen next. But I think it's also because of one character I actually quite like.

Blaire Hopburn.

Blaire is Riley's bisexual girlfriend. She works at the same shop as Riley, in a slightly more senior position. She's also studying cosmetology at university and is part of its LGBTQIA+ club.

In a comic that's been so heavily criticised (and rightly so), what makes Blaire so appealing to me?

It's partly because of her personality. The Cast Page describes her as "a passionate, bubbly woman, who always strives to do what she believes is right… Even if not everyone else agrees." I generally like characters with those traits. I enjoy watching people who try to be good and make an effort to help others, but don't always do it in the best way.

And another reason I like Blaire is because I read her as autistic.

Blaire Hopburn: Accidentally Autistic?

Quite a few of Blaire's personality traits are things that I, as an autistic person, relate to a lot.

The author has described Blaire as, "So good at picking up when someone is upset, or not looking after themselves, so bad at reading the room regarding how to act." That could resonate with any autistic people who are high on empathy but low on social skills. You feel other people's pain, you want to help them, but you're not sure how. And what you try seems to make things worse.

This aspect of Blaire is present in Chapter 8, on Pages 2 and 3, when she and Jaden make conversation while erecting a bunk bed:

Blaire: So Jaden, is this your first move out of home? Jaden: I know it's a little later than most people... Blaire: Not judging! My 'rents insisted I stay home until I finish studying. Jaden: Oh nice. What are you studying? Blaire: Cosmetology! I tried early childcare and psychology too, but I couldn't handle that sort of selfless responsibility, haha! Jaden: Oh man, I feel that. My mum's in aged care, and takes care of my Nana now. I could not do what she does for a living, haha. Blaire: Do you think you took longer to move out because you felt guilty leaving your mum with your Nana? Jaden: How many years of psychology did you do...? Blaire: Sorry, that was a total guess! I didn't even last a full year!! Jaden: Could've fooled me, haha.

Thankfully, Jaden is nice enough to let that awkward moment pass, but she could have reacted to Blaire's psychoanalysis in a much worse way.

We also see Blaire being bad at socialising on Chapter 9 Page 17. Riley and Blaire have witnessed Jaden having an argument with her mum, and after her mum leaves, Blaire asks Jaden about it:

Blaire: Did you want to talk about what happened with your mum, Jaden? Riley: BLAIRE...! Jaden: Hey, it's okay. I have been a bit of a downer... Sorry. Riley: No, you don't have to apologise! Blaire: Yeah, it just sounded pretty upsetting. Jaden: You could say that, haha...

That feels very much like something a person would do when they sense something is wrong and zero in on one way of dealing with it. "Come on, let's talk about our feelings! A problem shared is a problem halved, right? Right?"

There's even a point in Chapter 8 where Blaire muses, "Sometimes it feels like Muddles [Riley's pet cat] is able to comfort Riley in ways that I just can't..." Can you imagine how galling it must feel, knowing that a pet, a creature that can't even speak English, is better at helping your girlfriend than you are?

Ouch.

In addition, Blaire's desire to learn about trans topics and be a good trans ally reads a lot like a special interest to me.

Especially the fact that she randomly brings up trans people in conversation, seemingly apropos nothing at all:

Blaire: Sorry I ditched you, babe. Auntie's keen for me to learn stock ordering. Riley: As long as you don't forget about me when you're a fully fledged store manager. Blaire: Never! So how'd the bunk end up treating you? Riley: Big upgrade from being on the floor. Blaire: And did Mudz approve? Riley: She was up there with me by morning. Blaire: Damn, that is good! Do you think Jaden could be trans?

That conversation with Riley had nothing to do with trans stuff, so Blaire's question is a bolt from the blue. I suspect the thought of Jaden being trans had been playing on Blaire's mind all day, and she was eager to grab the first chance to discuss it with someone.

She does something similar in a reply to an Anon question from when the author still had Tumblr:

Anon: Compared to others of her demographic, I gotta give Blaire props for dating a butch gal and treating her well. Blaire: Of course! Butches deserve nothing but love! And that goes DOUBLE for trans women!

Again, that Anon didn't mention trans people at all, but Blaire still brought them up. She was just itching to infodump about trans rights, I just know it.

But Blaire's connection to trans stuff leads to the issues I have with the way she's being written.

Blaire Hopburn: Pretty Problematic?

I really don't like how Blaire is currently being utilised in the story. Mainly because she's made out to be kind-of an idiot. She doesn't notice when she's making her girlfriend feel uncomfortable. And she's quite bad at picking up on social cues more generally.

This is demonstrated in Chapter 11 on Pages 31 and 32. Blaire is conversing with Violet, Jaden's coworker, about Violet's daughter Faith. The view Blaire expresses is the strawman argument often used against trans people and their allies - the supposition that we believe that not conforming to your expected gender norms means you must be trans.

Violet: Oh, and thanks for being patient with Faith. I know she's a bit of a handful! Blaire: It's like you said: they're just very passionate. Just not about dresses and skirts, huh?

Violet's response is interesting, as is Blaire's train of thought after the exchange:

Violet: NOPE! And I couldn't be happier! It makes buying HER clothes so much simpler! I hope SHE will steer clear of razors and makeup in HER teen years too, haha! Anyway, I best be getting my DAUGHTER to bed. See you at Ballroom Night! VROOM! Blaire: ... Blaire: (thinking) Dang it... It looks like Violet needs more help than I first thought... The sooner I get these [leaflets] to her the more time little Faith will have to choose what kind of body they want as an adult...!

Blaire didn't realise that Violet was emphasising the gendered ways to describe Faith because Violet already knows about trans stuff and rejects it. Instead, she just assumed Violet was ignorant and needed some educational leaflets.

(And Blaire also didn't notice the insult hidden in Violet's words. Blaire clearly shaves and wears makeup, so Violet was basically saying she hopes Faith doesn't turn out like Blaire. But Blaire has no reaction to that.)

Blaire is clearly not the best at detecting what people are implying. But that's being written in an exaggerated way, to satirise belief in "trans ideology" as stupid and in denial of reality.

It can almost feel as if Blaire is being portrayed as bad because of her autistic traits.

The author has addressed this in a comment on one of the bonus comic pages that came out after Chapter 11:

Important to keep in mind that none of the characters are written to be autistic. So Blaire isn’t being made into a villain or singled out for being autistic. In fact, a lot of her "social missteps" are a positive side to her character. Like she's pushy about gender nonsense, but she's also pushy when it comes to making sure her friends take care of themselves (making sure Jaden was getting her share of pancakes, pointing it out fully). She pushes because she cares. It has both positive and negative outcomes.

The trouble is, just because it wasn't the author's intention doesn't mean that's not how it looks. I know I'm not the only one who sees Blaire as autistic-coded.

And when Blaire's difficulties with social interaction are being played up in conversations about trans people, she isn't being written as a character. She's being used as a tool to poke fun at "the trans cult".

That's what annoys me about her portrayal. She isn't allowed to just be a character in a story - a nice, well-meaning but inexperienced girlfriend who happens to take an interest in trans rights. She has to be an extreme strawman of a trans ally, to push the author's anti-trans agenda.

Blaire Hopburn: Vicious Villain?

One of the webcomic's extra features is an "Actor AU", which includes this interview with Blaire's "actress":

Interviewer: Your character is quite controversial isn't she? Lots of people want her killed off and others are holding out hope for some sort of redemption. Which camp are you in, haha? Blaire's Actress: Neither. Interviewer: Oh...? Blaire's Actress: I actually like evil female characters. There's all these memes about deranged women, malicious women, heartless women... But when one does come along they want her removed or fundamentally changed before she's even spread her wings. Interviewer: Do you think fan opinion might change once Blaire ... takes flight? Blaire's Actress: I hope so. Realistically, both extreme camps will probably end up disappointed. But there's plenty of other great stuff to watch for. Will just have to burn the "Blaire bridge" when we come to it.

The funny thing is that the fans who comment on Lease Bound act as though Blaire is already a horrible person, but ... she really isn't?

At her worst, she's so focused on being a good trans ally that she neglects to check in with how others feel. But that's hardly "deranged" or "malicious" or "heartless", is it? Unless you already believe that supporting "trans ideology" makes you at least one of those things.

The closest thing I see to Blaire being villainous is in the first of the "When Riley Met Brick" bonus pages.

Blaire: Exploring your femininity in a non-traumatic way might help make things clearer too. Riley: O-okay. Blaire: Why don't we go dress shopping later this week, then? Riley: U-uh... I'm not really... They never feel good. Blaire: Cute plus-size options have come a long way in the last few years. It won't be frumpy like the stuff from your old congregation, I promise! Riley: O-okay... *** Blaire: Well, what do you think? Riley: It's... I feel like I can't breathe... Blaire: Huh? But it's so loose and flow-y... Do you need a bigger size? Riley: N-no, please, get it off. OFF! OFF!! Blaire: Riles! Hey, hey! Don't thrash like that, you'll rip it! Here' I'm untying it, see? Riley: ... Blaire: So, no tie-arounds, zippers or buttons... How about this one? You just pull it straight over your head! Riley: I can't... Please, no more... Blaire: Hmm... I think we need to talk to someone who has a bit more expertise than me, baby...

Blaire is forcing Riley to try on dresses and do something she's really uncomfortable with, until Riley is screaming and thrashing about. That does seem very, very bad. But I wonder if there's more to this than meets the eye.

Riley's backstory hasn't been shown in the webcomic yet, but the author has said that she grew up in a religious cult where she was only allowed to wear dresses, never trousers. Blaire presumably doesn't fully understand how bad Riley's past was, as she assumes the issue is with the style of the dresses Riley has tried so far.

In an extra cast reply (and it's debatable how canon it is), Blaire does seem to grasp that what Riley has gone through was traumatising:

Blaire: Riley's discomfort with femininity is from being forced into it as a kid. That doesn't mean she HATES girly stuff, she just has internalised misogyny to work through at her own pace!

Yes, Blaire is going about things in the wrong way. But ... she kind-of has a point? I certainly wouldn't call it "internalised misogyny", but it is trauma, and that needs addressing.

Not wanting to wear dresses isn't a problem, but the reason for it can be. Riley's discomfort is clearly rooted in pretty serious trauma, and she needs to be able to sit down with someone and work through that. Sadly, she's not yet confident enough to open up fully about it.

And even if she could, Blaire isn't the right person to do this with. Blaire did study psychology briefly at university, but she didn't last a full year. Her idea of helping Riley is taking her to see Brick, a non-binary person ... who's training to be a veterinary nurse, not a human therapist. Blaire is nowhere near qualified to give Riley the help she needs.

I don't see this as an evil trans ally preying on a poor little lesbian. I see this as two flawed women talking past each other, trying and failing to understand each other, ill-equipped to cope with each other's issues.

And then the other "villainous Blaire" moment is at the end of "When Riley Met Brick", as Blaire criticises Riley for the way she talks to Brick:

Riley: Maybe I'm just feeling a bit confused because I've never met a trans person befor- Brick: THAT is an assumption rooted in transphobic bias! Trans people aren't a monolith! You can't tell who's trans just by looking at them! Riley: Sorry, I didn't know...! Blaire: You know what they say about assuming babe... Riley: I swear I didn't mean to... Blaire: You need to choose your words with more care. Riley: Right... I'm really sorry...

The dark colours, Blaire's body language and ominous words, the top-down perspective on the scared-looking Riley ... this page is trying to make us see Blaire as in the wrong and Riley as her victim. We're meant to judge her for putting her zealousness for trans acceptance before her concern for her girlfriend's feelings.

That's the last time we've seen Blaire in the webcomic so far, but she's due to reappear in Chapter 13. It seems as though the author is planning to do something big with Blaire - something that will cement her as the villain of Lease Bound. But it hasn't happened yet. And I'm curious to see what it is.

I suspect it's something to do with Blaire being in a more senior position at Riley's workplace, as well as the fact that her aunt works there. There's a risk that Blaire could use her influence with her aunt to force Riley out of a job, after a major disagreement over trans rights or something.

But based on what we've seen so far in the webcomic, I can't picture Blaire doing something like that. She just doesn't seem like the kind of person to do something so extreme.

Basically, it's going to take a lot to convince me that Blaire Hopburn is an irredeemable monster.

TL;DR Lease Bound is massively problematic. The one bright spot for me is Blaire, the nice, eager-to-help, slightly autistic-coded bi lady. Unfortunately, she keeps being turned into a caricature to mock those who support trans rights, and that bothers me.

#lease bound #leasebound #blaire hopburn #jaden anderson #riley zhou #violet bridge #faith bridge #brick abbott #tw transphobia

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 3 days

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Can you do Alastor please 🥺

Yep!

Send me a character and I’ll list:

Favourite thing about them: The radio filter on his voice! I'm a sucker for characters with artificial voice filters like that. And his disdain for "frivolous television technology" is amusing.

I recently rewatched the first episode of Hazbin Hotel with my dad, and he liked Alastor's radio filter too. (Yes, my dad watched some of Hazbin Hotel. And he decided it was "a bit too out there" for him.)

Least favourite thing about them: His design, I think. Yes, the creepy smile that never leaves his face is a nice touch, but that bob? It does nothing for me.

Favourite line: It's a close tie between, "Do you like blood, violence, and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do! That's why you're in Hell!" and, "Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show! The proper medium to express oneself! But you insisted on this ... noisy picture box advertisement. So I had a little fun with it."

brOTP: I like his friendships with Mimzy and Rosie. The fact that he and Mimzy knew each other when they were alive is really interesting. And I can see how he and Rosie would bond over their shared fondness for cannibalism.

Plus, I just think it's funny that Alastor has been building this platonic girl gang around him. He's asexual, but also a chick magnet.

OTP: I don't really have one for Alastor. He's definitely ace, and he might be aro too, and I have yet to see a character that's made me go, "Ooh, I'd love to see what would happen if they were in a romantic relationship with Alastor."

But if I had to pick an OTP ... maybe RadioRose? Two cannibalistic Overlords causing chaos together? That would be pretty neat.

Actually, what about RadioStatic? The fact that the normally cool and collected Vox can be made to completely malfunction because of Alastor has piqued my interest. Maybe they were dating years ago, and then something went wrong. Or maybe they had a business partnership, and Vox wanted it to become something more, and Alastor just wasn't feeling it. Yes, Vox has Valentino now, but maybe there's a part of him that still pines for Alastor - which would be ironic, considering that Alastor has little to no interest in him.

nOTP: Charlastor. I prefer them having a "twisted mentor and innocent mentee" relationship, rather than a romantic one. Given that Alastor has positioned himself as a father figure to Charlie (albeit just to annoy Lucifer), it would be weird to think of them dating.

Random headcanon: Alastor has zero artistic ability. He once tried to paint portraits of the Hazbin Hotel staff and residents as part of an art therapy exercise, but they all look cursed. Or like cats. Or like cursed cats.

Unpopular opinion: Sorry, Alastor stans, I can't get on the hype train with this guy. Not yet, anyway.

I like characters that have a mixture of the known and the mysterious - that is, you know enough about them from the canon material that there are traits you can identify and latch onto, but there are also some things left up to interpretation for you to muse over.

Right now, Alastor's just a bit too mysterious for me. Is he going to be an ally? Is he going to be an enemy? I can't decide whether I like him because I don't know enough about him.

By contrast, I already know lots about Angel Dust, and I like what I've seen so far. And there are still things I don't know about him, such as how he met Valentino, that I can speculate on, which I find fun. That's why Angel is my blorbo and Alastor isn't.

Song I associate with them: "Love ka?" (a.k.a. "Rabuka") by Hiiragi Kirai and Ado. Particularly this Yokune Ruko cover. I see it as a RadioStatic song, because the lyrics are about sharks (Vox likes sharks, doesn't he?) and about bugs (which would fit with Vox glitching out).

The ending lyrics translate as, "These putrid 'love you,' 'love you,' 'love yous' have already fallen to the ground and died out. If you don't like what you found within your reach, maybe you should stop looking." That sounds like something Alastor would say to Vox.

Favourite picture of them:

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 7 days

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I know I'm a little late to Angel's birthday party, but I wanted to say I loved this story! I appreciated all the details scattered throughout, like Angel learning to communicate better, and Husk trying to let himself be more vulnerable, and Husk thinking Angel's feet are actually quite cute.

I really enjoyed reading this!

for angel's bday :3 here

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 7 days

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Another brilliant Huskerdust story!

I really enjoyed reading this! It's got a great representation of Husk's point of view, and Angel's trauma is handled really well, and the way Husk tries to help him is cute. I actually got a bit emotional at one point in the middle!

14k Huskerdust fic one shot I recently did! Contains heavy angst, tears, and gentle comfort at the end. Rating explicit solely for the ending bit. Husk POV

It was really fun to get to get inside Husk’s brain for this one and write out his thought patterns and processes. Please enjoy!

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 9 days

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This is an amazing Huskerdust fic!

Husk's POV has all these sweet insights into his and Angel's relationship. The dialogue reads like actual dialogue from the show and I can easily imagine it in the character's voices.

And then there's the hug! And then there's the way Angel talks to Fat Nuggets! And it's all adorable!

Everyone go read this!

Luck of the Draw

Chapter 1 ♤

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Husk × Angel Dust (HuskerDust)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Being drugged, mentions of sexual and physical assault

In the early hours of the morning, the Hazbin Hotel bar is still open, albeit empty, except for the bartender himself. Angel Dust isn't back from work yet, and Husk finds this troubling. He's learned that it's a game of luck predicting which version of Angel will walk through that door - Angel Dust the porn star, or the real Angel. The one he respects, yet can't help holding at arms length. However, when Angel finally shows up, Husk quickly learns that luck is something that people like Angel never get a taste of.

4:28am.

Husk looked down from the gaudy parlour clock to the freshly polished bar with a grimace. Angel should have been back from work by now. Not that he was waiting for him, fuck no. He wasn’t no goddamn baby sitter. He had better things to do than sit around waiting for the kid to waltz in and talk his ear off, demanding some sickly sweet cocktail that took way too much effort to mix for what amounted to booze and fruit juice, and taunt him with his sleazy porno pick-up lines (which, admittedly, he’d been cooling off on lately). Besides, it wasn’t like Husk needed a drinking buddy – he’d drank alone his whole life and all that came after, and he’d be double damned if the flames of Hell were hot enough to melt the thick, icy shell that encased his heart.

He had to admit, though, he had been getting used to the company. It had become an unspoken routine: Angel Dust usually flounced into the hotel sometime after midnight, and the two demons would share a few rounds to see off the day. But a gambling man like Husk never discredits the influence of luck on a situation – not least when fondness has sweetened the pot – and he’d come to realise it was all down to chance which version of Angel Dust would walk through that door. Most nights he’d burst in all toothy smiles and suggestive remarks, his carefully crafted mask barely faltering no matter how many times Husk brushed off the sexual comments. As irritating as he found them, he quickly learned that after a couple of drinks, Angel would mellow out and the mask would slip just enough for the two of them to have a real ass conversation, to just shoot the shit and reminisce, like old friends – real friends. The kind you make in life. Husk even found himself at times wondering if it would really be so terrible for his cold heart to warm a little, if the burn of the whisky and the spark of a newly kindled friendship could thaw him enough to feel the closest thing to affection he was still capable of. This thought was never given the opportunity to bloom into anything more substantial before Husk would stamp it from his mind with vigour, assuring himself it was nothing more than a liquor-fuelled fantasy, tantalising him with the fickle temptress of hope.

The other Angel was a different story. Husk couldn’t help but dread those nights: the nights where Angel would skulk through the door with his head hung low, bruised and bloody, torn clothing just barely clinging to his battered body; the nights where the mask Angel clung to fell to the floor, shattered, useless up against the black eyes and smearing makeup. As openly as Husk despised Angel’s bullshit persona, and although he valued authenticity above all else, seeing behind the curtain like this could be a little too rich for his blood. The sheer stench of shame was overwhelming, and Husk had to hold in his feelings with an iron grip. Angel didn’t need to know how much of a useless idiot he felt, or the anger that burnt him from the inside out every time he thought about the evil bastard that treated Angel like his prize fucking punching bag. Husk was well aware that he didn’t know the half of the abuse that Valentino inflicted upon Angel, and, as shameful as it felt to admit, he’d prefer to keep it that way. His old, decrepit heart didn’t know what to do with the emotions that swelled within him when he dared to wonder how much Angel was forced to put up with, and he was certain no amount of booze could placate him enough to keep his cool if he were ever to find out.

But, all that aside, Husk was a bartender. He was no stranger to pouring drinks for down-on-their-luck losers looking to drown their sorrows. So, when Angel came home looking worse for wear, he would simply do what he did best and pour him his favourite drink, and the two would stew in the heavy silence until Angel loosened up and their usual conversation would trickle into balance, feigning some semblance of normality.

His thoughts were promptly interrupted by the sound of the front door swinging open with an almighty shove, followed by the clumsy scuffle of heels on hardwood and hissy, murmured curses. Husk had been a bartender long enough to recognise the graceless sounds of a drunk bastard, and his eyes narrowed as Angel’s silhouette stumbled up to the bar, seemingly unaware of Husk stood behind it. Sure, he’d seen the kid in all kinds of states. Drunk? Sure. High? As a kite. Sober? You gotta be kidding. But fucked up enough to be tripping over his own feet, mumbling incoherent nonsense? This was new. Even in the depths of whatever he was high on, Angel Dust was sharp as a tack, quick-witted and oh so irritatingly fake. Eternal damnation plus addiction equals one hell of a tolerance, Husk supposed. Of course, his “supposing” was arbitrary – he knew this first fucking hand. So, to see this display from Angel filled him with a sense of unease.

As if on cue, Husk’s ears pricked up as a high pitched yelp, punctuated by a sudden smack to the floor, rang through the empty halls. Peering over the bar, he was greeted with a pitiful sight – Angel sat crumpled in a tangled heap of limbs, massaging the part of his head that had made contact with the floor and clutching a bottle of clear booze to his chest that he appeared to have been protecting during his ungainly fall. His blazer was mostly open, and the few buttons that were done up seemed to be in the wrong places. As he swore under his breath and began dusting off his sleeves, Husk couldn’t help but notice his expression. Irritated, sorrowful. Tired. The performance was nowhere to be found, and as had been the case since the real, raw Angel had started making himself known, Husk was gripped by a familiar, palpable tension. But there was a thread of something different about it, some kind of vulnerability that came with witnessing this particular scene.

That’s when he realised what – who – he was seeing: Angel Dust when no one was watching. When he thought no one was watching. Husk was struck by something akin to wonder, a glimmer of awe at the rarity of what he was witnessing, that was snuffed out instantaneously by the nakedness of it. Angel Dust, the porn star who’s entire afterlife consisted of working the cameras; the demon who, for once, truly believed he was not being watched; and Husk, the unwitting voyeur, the pair of eyes from the darkness that promised the safety of being alone.

“Need a hand?” Husk broke the painful silence. The idea of watching any longer than he already had was nauseating.

Angel’s head snapped up at the shock of realising he wasn’t alone, and his face momentarily flushed from embarrassment of being witnessed in his predicament. Quickly as the embarrassment came, it was gone, replaced by that familiar cockiness Husk knew all too well. He never thought he’d be relieved to see that fake bullshit, but it was a hell of a lot more comfortable than whatever the fuck that was.

“Nah. I got plenty,” Angel Dust flashed Husk a flirtatious grin as his third set of arms made an appearance to steady him against the floor, one arm still clutching the bottle tightly to his chest. He pushed himself up onto his feet with great unsteadiness, swaying dangerously before he flopped dramatically down onto a stool and planted the bottle on the bar beside him with a careless clunk. Husk whisked it behind the bar in less than a second – there was no way he was letting this kid drink anything else, and besides, Angel was too out of it to even register that the bottle had gone.

“It’s late, y’know. Even for you,” Husk immediately cringed at the domesticity of the words that just came out of his mouth, like a pent-up housewife chastising her deadbeat husband for leaving her home alone all day.

Even with his usual sharpness dulled by the intoxication, Angel was quick to sense Husk’s insecurity. He pounced in his usual manner.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’ve been waitin’ up for me, Husky,” he teased, his usual sultry tone sullied by slurred words. “I woulda come home sooner – ya only had to ask, babycakes.”

Angel’s flirtation bounced straight off Husk as though he’d barely noticed. He didn’t even look up from the glass he had taken to polishing to distract himself – to give himself something to look at that wasn’t Angel.

“What the hell did you take, Angel? You look-”

“Devastatingly handsome?”

This time Husk looked up from the glass, one eyebrow raised. That stupid, sleazy, shit-eating grin again. God, even in the state he was in, he managed to be the same annoying fuck he always was. The relief of the mask going back up was quickly losing it’s charm.

“You look like shit,” Husk growled. It was true. Angel was slumped over the bar, propped up on one elbow as if it were the only thing keeping him from tumbling right back onto the floor. His eyes were half-lidded and bloodshot, unable to stay focused on Husk even as he’d been shooting him those ridiculous looks, and his face was swollen, puffy and flushed crimson. This wasn’t just alcohol, and it sure as hell wasn’t coke or any of Angel’s usual uppers. The nagging, biting feeling in Husk’s gut grew the longer he went without certainty. Fuck, why the hell did he even care? This was Angel, the kid could handle himself, and Husk would be a damn fool to criticise a sinner for getting high. And yet here he was. Pissed off, unsettled and worst of all: worried about him.

Angel opened his mouth, ready to spout whatever bullshit he had ready to defend himself from the insult, but Husk held up a hand to silence him. Fuck it, if he was going to care about this stupid kid, he wasn’t going to half-ass it. “Don’t try your shit with me. It ain’t gonna fly this time.” He crossed him arms firmly, meeting Angel’s hazy eyes with a steady, piercing stare. “I’ve seen you fucked up every which way, kid, but I ain’t seen you this far gone. So let’s try this again- the fuck did you take?”

“I ain’t took nothin’, Husk,” Angel sighed. There was a softness to his voice, something almost believable. He dropped his head into two of his hands, covering his face as the other set sprawled out across the bar. His voice was slow and thick. “Well, nothin’ I ain’t used to. I went out drinkin’ after work. It was a long shoot, okay?” The softness gave way to irritation, like a child receiving a scolding as he looked up from his hands with a scowl. “What, I need your permission or somethin’? There’s other bars in Hell, ya know.”

“Not ones you get to drink for free at.” Husk retorted, and Angel let out a sharp, cold laugh.

“Oh, please. That’s cute, Husk, but in case ya forgot, I’m kinduva big deal round these parts. You think THE Angel Dust pays for his own drinks?” Angel jabbed a finger at his chest and gestured towards his body with his other arms, threatening to lose his balance and come face to face with the floor for the second time that night.

“So, you’re tellin’ me you got in this mess from boozin’ with lowlifes?” Husk scoffed. “I ain’t tryna insult you, legs, but ain’t that your idea of havin’ a quiet one?”

Angel’s eyes narrowed as he steadied himself on the bar, fingers curling against the hardwood. “Yeah, Husk, and I’ll thank ya to quit it with the third fuckin’ degree already. What, ya jealous I ain’t drinkin’ with you? I’m here now, so pour me one already.”

Husk let out a quiet humph that could almost be considered a laugh, amused at the idea that Angel thought there was any way in Hell he’d give him more alcohol, but pulled a glass out from under the bar all the same. “Kid, I’m just lookin’ out for you,” he said matter-of-factly, refusing to be affected by Angel’s irritation. “Like I said, you look fuckin’ terrible.” He pushed the now-filled glass towards Angel, who scoffed at this remark.

“Please! Ain’t no way, kitty. Besides, you don’t know me. What makes you think-” he stopped dead, raising an eyebrow at the glass in front of him before fixing Husk with a withering glare.

“What the shit is this?”

“Water. Drink it.”

As though a switch had flicked, Angel’s annoyance mutated into his usual choreographed flirtation.

“Aww, Husky! You’re taking care of me!” he crooned, reaching a hand across the bar to heavy-handedly caress one of Husk’s wings, his intoxicated state blunting his usual suaveness when it came to flirting. “Well, how about we take this to your bedroom, baby? Maybe you can... take care of me some more in there.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Husk couldn’t hold in the flurry of rage at being groped by the idiot he was trying to help. He had limited tolerance for Angel’s bullshit on a good day, and this pushed him over the edge. “Even in the fucking mess you’re in, you still won’t give it up?!”

Angel’s eyes were wide but unreadable. Husk steadied himself with a deep breath, fighting the surge of anger that wanted him to tell Angel to drop the fucking act, that he was embarrassing himself with this ridiculous charade. Did that incoherent shithead really think he was the type of guy to take someone this wasted to bed? The anger simmered down as he thought about the types of guys Angel was used to being with, and he let out a deep sigh through still-gritted teeth.

“Let me get one thing clear: I ain’t one of your scumbag drinking buddies who wanna get you all nice and lathered up to do god knows what to ya. And even if I was dumb enough to play into your goddamn games – you’re plastered, kid. I ain’t going nowhere near you.”

Angel rolled his eyes, as if the concern for his wellbeing was boring him. “Husk, you think I ever fucked sober?” he said dryly. “Not in Hell or Earth, sunshine. You don’t do the work I do without somethin’ to take the edge off,” he paused, a flicker of something real gracing his expression as he broke Husk’s gaze. “And hey, some jag off puts a little extra somethin’ in my drink, I ain’t sayin’ no. Free drugs, ain’t it?” His laugh had a shaky edge, less believable.

Husk looked at Angel, dumbfounded. For a moment, he said absolutely nothing, processing this information before blurting out densely, “What, you got spiked?”

Angel scoffed, throwing his hands up in a mocking cheer. “Aaaand he hits the jackpot!” he slurred. “Guess the wise old bartender ain’t so wised up after all. Yes, dumbass, I got spiked.”

“And what, you knew? And drank it anyway?” The hair raised on the back of Husk’s neck.

“Husk, I’ve been in the game a long time,” Angel said flatly. “I can handle it. That shit barely makes a dent anymore. Sonuvabitch knew it to, the way he kept ‘em comin’.” The laugh that followed was jarring, like silk sheets on a spent mattress.

Husk could not fathom a response, but Angel kept going.

“Y’know, he probably paid top dolla for whatever the fuck he was usin’ too,” he laughed idly. “Spent it all on little ol’ me. I’d be flattered if the handsy bastard wasn’t such a goddamn bore. I’ve had better conversations with a brick wall, I’m telling ya.” He spoke about it so casually, as though recalling a funny anecdote. “Probably thought I’d pass out after the first one. Sorry, baby, but I’m a pro. You shoulda prepared more conversation than “hey, you’re the guy from “Three Dicks, One Hole”, can you really do that with your-”

“Angel, are you okay?”

Husk felt his stomach tighten as Angel’s nonchalant facade was shaken by his remark of genuine, honest concern. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t bear to listen to this. He hated how pathetic he felt in these moments, when the weight of Angel’s chains felt almost as heavy as his own.

Angel’s gaze dropped to the glass of water he’d yet to touch, as though shielding himself from the bartender’s penetrating eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that Husk.”

“Like what? Like I’m worried about you?”

“Like ya feel sorry for me. I can handle myself, okay? This is my scene, these are my people. I do what I gotta do.” The grit had returned to his voice, warning Husk to back off.

Husk ignored his instincts and walked out from behind the bar and took the bar stool next to Angel. He wasn’t going to let this slide.

“If that guy hurt you-”

“Christ, Husk! You’re the one that keeps tellin’ me I’m a wreck! My head’s in pieces, I don’t need this right now.” The sharp, warning tone in Angel’s voice finally cracked with a defeated sigh, and he looked down at the bar. He looked so small in this moment, so... not Angel Dust. It was like Husk was seeing a completely different person. Angel didn’t look up from the bar as he spoke.

“If that guy got a piece a’ me, he’d be the latest in a long fuckin’ line of ‘em. Not like I remember anyway.”

He gave Husk a wry smile. “Hey, whatcha don’t know can’t hurt ya, right?”

Jesus. Husk took a deep breath and prepared himself for the usual sick avoidance he felt when Angel was at his most real and raw, but something within him forced a new kind of steadiness. The pain written across Angel’s face was taste Husk usually found all too sour, but this time the bitter flavour was his own. Was he really such a fucking coward? He was a goddamn bartender, he listened to people bitch and moan all day long but being there for a friend was all too much? This kid needed someone, and despite it all, despite everything Husk thought he knew about himself, he cared. And as much as that scared the ever loving shit out of him, he wasn’t going to turn away this time. He was going to follow Angel into that darkness if it meant he would have someone there with him.

Finally, Husk let out a sigh and stood up. “Alright kid, let’s get you to bed.”

“Thought you’d never ask, Husky,” Angel drawled, following suit and standing, only to tumble forward face-first into Husk, who caught him with an air of expectancy. Angel caught Husk’s shoulders as he leaned against the shorter demon, who’s hands were now holding Angel up by the waist in an attempt to steady him. Husk peered up at the sudden look of surprise on the demon’s face. There was that vulnerability, that gleam of something real that darted out from the shadows before Angel inevitably caught on and stuffed it right back down inside. For the first time, Husk decided to savour it, knowing he only had a fraction of a second before The Angel Dust Show resumed.

Only it didn’t.

Angel’s eyes were wide with unexpected emotion. It was hard to describe what Husk was seeing – was it tenderness? Fragility? Fear? He only had a moment to contemplate this cocktail of emotion before Angel’s face was buried into his shoulder, two sets of arms clutching him fiercely in a hug that felt hungry and longing. Despite Husk’s efforts to keep the lanky demon upright, Angel dropped to his knees, his impressive height allowing for him to pull Husk parallel against him in this position while his head remained fixed to the crook of Husk’s neck. Angel clung to Husk like a child to their mother, as though the desperation for soft and gentle affection was suddenly too much for him to bear. Tentative at first, Husk allowed himself to pull Angel a little closer, one hand cradling the back of the demon’s head, thumb brushing against his tangled hair. The frenzied tension of Angel’s grasp and the automatic rigidity that came over Husk when faced with affection both began to subside, and the moment morphed from a frantic, unexpected plea for something tender, into equally unexpected tenderness itself. The lull was thick and heavy, as though draped in velvet, and a sudden awareness of just how close the two demons were gave Husk a hesitant, heady thrill. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held someone like this.

Angel was the one to finally peel back from their embrace, and as he did, Husk felt the cold breeze brush over a wet patch of fur on his shoulder. His stomach twisted in knots as he realised Angel had been crying. The spider demon furiously dragged a gloved forearm across his face, trying fruitlessly to hide the obvious. Husk looked away sheepishly.

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

With that, Husk scooped Angel up into his arms bridal-style and began carrying him towards the stairs. “Christ, you ain’t as dainty as you look, legs.”

Angel let out a yelp of surprise. “Husk, what the hell are ya doing?”

“Getting you to bed. What, you think you can take on the stairs? That’s real funny, kid. You can’t even stand.” Husk’s tone was mocking, but warm.

Angel’s initial shock dissipated. He felt the exhaustion of the day begin to catch up with him as his aching body savoured the blessing of being whisked off his feet. His arms wound around Husk’s neck as he sank his head into his chest. “Alright, alright. Just don’t fuckin’ drop me, dickbag.”

Husk could tell he was trying to sound annoyed, but the slur of the poison and the softness of incoming sleep blunted the sharp edges of his usual tough talk. A smile toyed with the edge of Husk’s lips.

“I ain’t gonna drop ya,” he smirked. “Make no mistake though, you ain’t no small feat. You might be all legs and arms, but you’re still an 8 foot sack a’ potatoes.”

“Fuck you, whiskers,” Angel managed to mumble, followed by a string of incoherent nonsense that his sleep-addled mind mistook for a killer comeback.

Husk smiled, trudging up the stairs with Angel. “Yeah, yeah. I know,” he replied mindlessly. It would be almost cute, the way Angel was falling asleep in his arms, if it weren’t a result of the heavy dose of sedatives finally kicking in. Yeah, that was it, Husk reminded himself. Got nothing to do with the gentle moment they shared, or perhaps a sense of safety he felt in Husk’s arms. It was just the drugs. That was all.

Angel was almost fully passed out by the time Husk reached his door, and he felt himself wince as he watched Angel drifting into unconsciousness and wondered if this perhaps wasn’t the first time he’d passed out tonight. It wasn’t like Husk wasn’t used to the cruel nuances of Hell: he’d seen things – done things – that would stay burned into his mind for as long as he existed down here. But the innocence of the demon sleeping in his arms, the innocence that was taken from him over and over again until he simply signed it away... that cut deep. It made him feel sick. He knew the pain of being a victim of circumstance, of being someone’s unwilling pet. It was a fucking horror show.

“It’s your stop, kid,” Husk spoke softly, rousing the spider demon from his slumber as he stood outside Angel’s door. It was adorned with neon pink lights and cheerful photographs with friends.

Angel looked up, bleary-eyed. “Huh? Oh. Hey, Husky,” he looked around, realising where he was, and began to shuffle in Husk’s arms in an attempt to get down. Husk gave him a stern look.

“Sure you can stand?”

“Oh, yeah. Not that I don’t love ya big strong arms around me, whiskers, but think I can manage the couple steps between the door and the bed, capisce?”

Unconvinced, Husk kept Angel’s arm fastened around his shoulder as he stumbled towards the bed, where Fat Nuggets lay curled up in one of Angel’s fluffy pieces of clothing, unbothered by the kerfuffle.

“There ya go,” Husk groaned, half-launching Angel towards the bed, where he collapsed inelegantly in a heap next to his sleeping pet, who was abruptly awoken by the disturbance and squealed happily at the sight of his mama. Angel chuckled softly as the pig settled into his lap, a sound Husk had never heard him make before, followed by soft cooing as he showered the pig in affection.

“Who’s mama’s special boy? That’s right, you are! Yes, you’re my special lil’ guy, aren’t you Nuggsie? Aren’t you my special lil’ guy?”

It was almost sickeningly cute, Husk thought, although this was promptly interrupted by a flush of embarrassment as he noticed Angel start to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. He looked away hotly. Should he go now? He’d done his part, there was no need for him to be here when he-

“Hey, give me a hand here, will ya?”

Fuck.

Angel was fumbling uselessly with the last button of his blazer, clearly unable to get it to cooperate. After a moment of hesitation that felt far longer than it actually was, Husk sighed and sat down on the bed. His eyes fixed on the button and the button alone with exaggerated intensity, made all the more comical by his flushed cheeks, and with one swift movement the blazer fell open. Husk’s eyes found a spot on the bed to focus on intently and his blush grew darker. Angel cackled.

“Husk, their ain’t a sinner in Hell that hasn’t seen me take my clothes off. Now, quit bein’ a gentleman and grab me that nightshirt, ya prude,” he gave Husk a playful shove as he pointed out his pyjamas.

With a grumble, Husk swung his legs over the bed and leaned to grab the purple oversized shirt hanging off the spider’s vanity. Still averting his gaze, he handed it to Angel, who shrugged off his blazer and pulled the nightshirt over himself clumsily, before shimmying off his miniskirt.

“You need help with the boots?” Husk stuttered out. God, this was awkward. The way that Angel seemed to be lapping up his discomfort like the cat who got the cream made it 10 times worse.

“Nah. I got it. Who woulda known you were such a Prince Charming, Husky? Ain’t ya just my knight in shining armour.” Angel was still slurring but his voice was sweet and sing-songy, drinking in the effect he was having on Husk. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second as Angel started to roll down his boots, and a sudden flicker of bashfulness tinted Angel’s expression.

“Uh, do ya mind? I kinda got a thing about my feet.”

Husk couldn’t even stifle his laugh as he turned away diligently. “You’re kidding. The whole of Hell’s seen every inch of you in every position you could dream of but you’re shy about your feet?”

“Hey. Everyone’s got their hang ups, don’t they?” Angel said huffily, kicking his boots off the rest of the way and pulling the duvet around him. “You can look now. I’m decent.”

“If I turn around and you’re naked, I’m telling Charlie to give us another one of those sexual harassment lectures you love so much.” Husk muttered, relieved as he turned to see Angel cocooned in his duvet, Fat Nuggets wedged contentedly under his chin. His eyes were fluttering, looking ready to pass out. Husk smiled involuntarily, taking one long, last glance at Angel Dust before turning to leave him. “Goodnight, kid.”

Just as Husk reached for the door handle, a hushed voice stopped him dead.

“Husk?”

It was spoken like a question, with a strangled urgency that made Husk spin back around with dizzying intensity. Angel was propped up on his elbows, jump-started awake by a sharp jolt of obvious fear.

“Stay.”

Husk opened his mouth uselessly, having no inkling of a response in mind, but he was swiftly unburdened of this responsibility as Angel spoke again.

“Not... not like that.”

Husk cringed that Angel even felt the need to make that distinction: it was obvious from the demon’s distress that – for once – it wasn’t sex that he was propositioning. He sat forward rigidly, hugging his knees to his chest, eyes fixed downward.

“Just... stay. Please, Husk.” His voice was heart-wrenchingly small as he choked out his final confession.

“I don’t wanna be alone.”

Swallowing down the visceral pain in his gut at yet another unforgiving glimpse of reality and chasing it with a heavy sigh, Husk trudged back over to the demon’s bed and sat down beside him. He spoke gently, but firmly, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could practically feel Angel relax at this affirmation. His eyes closed once more as he slid down against the pillow, nestling into a comfortable position. “Thanks, Husky.” His voice was thick with sleep, a smile just barely teasing the corner of his mouth. To Husk’s surprise, a hand slipped out from beneath the covers and his fingers were interlocked with Angel’s before he could say anything. A shiver of defensiveness ran up his spine at the tenderness of the situation. It was sweet, it was intoxicating, it was inviting. It was unlike anything he’d felt in life or death. Was it worth the risk, allowing himself to acknowledge this softness? To look this sentiment square in the face, knowing it meant he could get chewed up and spat out in more ways than he could imagine? He held his cards close to his chest, he always had, but what good was that if not even he knew what he was holding?

He glanced at the demon next to him and his mind immediately muted, the sight of Angel fast asleep, hand still in his, turning down the volume on his deafening thoughts. He didn’t have to know what this was, what it meant. This was all it had to be for now. This was all that mattered. He gave Angel’s hand a reassuring squeeze as he let himself sink back into the pillows, smiling a little at the sight of his friend sleeping peacefully beside him.

“Goodnight, Angel.”

A/N: This is the first fanfic I've written since I was literally a teenager so I hope this holds up! Hazbin and HuskerDust in particular has me in a chokehold, so naturally I spent more time and effort writing this than I did on any of my uni work this year. There are going to be more chapters of this (god willing) so stay tuned! I'm not on ao3 unfortunately so keep an eye out on here if you're wanting more, I'm a slow writer though so don't expect anything for a while. Hope you enjoyed! 🪩

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #fat nuggets

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 11 days

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Oh, here we go again

The voices in his head

Called the rain to end our days of wild

The sickest army doll

Purchased at the mall

Rivulets descend my plastic smile

But you should've seen him when he first got me

My boy only breaks his favorite toys, toys, oh

I'm queen of sand castles he destroys, oh, oh

'Cause it fit too right, puzzle pieces in the dead of night

I should've known it was a matter of time, oh, oh

My boy only breaks his favorite toys, oh, oh

There was a litany of reasons why

We could've playеd for keeps this time

I know I'm just repeating mysеlf

Put me back on my shelf

But first, pull the string

And I'll tell you that he runs

Because he loves me (He loves me)

'Cause you should've seen him when he first saw me

My boy (My boy) only breaks his favorite toys, toys, oh

I'm queen (I'm queen) of sand castles he destroys, oh, oh

'Cause I knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch

He saw forever, so he smashed it up, oh, oh

My boy (My boy) only breaks his favorite toys, oh, oh

Once I fix me

He's gonna miss me

Once I fix me

He's gonna miss me

Just say when, I'd play again

He was my best friend down at the sandlot

I felt more when we played pretend

Than with all the Kens

'Cause he took me out of my box

Stole my tortured heart

Left all these broken parts

Told me I'm better off

But I'm not, I'm not, I'm not

Valangel + "My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys"

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #my boy only breaks his favourite toys #hazbin hotel #angel dust #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #valangel #tw sexual abuse #tw sex work #tw sexual assault #tw suggestive

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 13 days

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Sir Pentious perhaps?

Certainly, my dear!

Send me a character and I’ll list:

Favourite thing about them: His dorkiness! I like how he starts out trying to be intimidating so he'll be thought of as a formidable foe, and then learns to embrace his naturally dorky self and be a better person. Maybe there's a message there about toxic masculinity? Or maybe I'm reading too much into it.

Least favourite thing about them: That so-called 'joke' in Episode 6. You know the one. I mean, you can't have a whole episode taking sexual assault seriously when it happens to Angel Dust and then turn it into a joke when it happens to Sir Pentious. I'd have preferred it if, instead of Pen being dragged into the sex room, Valentino overheard his "sex with everybody" line and started offering him a job at the porn studio and making him flustered, and that was what motivated Angel to stand up for his friends.

Favourite line: "The only cool thing here is to say 'No' to drugs! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage!"

brOTP: I like the enemies-to-friends thing he had going on with Angel Dust! My favourite moment is in Episode 5, when Pen is trying to shield his cookies for Lucifer from Angel's grabby hands, and then he has to stand up straight to salute Lucifer with a quick, "Your majesty!" before he goes back to shielding the cookies, but it's too late because Angel's taken one, but Angel doesn't make a big deal of it, he just says, "Heya, short king," to Lucifer as if there's nothing out of the ordinary going on. They're like brothers! Pen is the responsible one and Angel is the naughty one, but at the end of the day, they've got each other's back. It's fun to watch!

Also, now that Sir Pentious is in Heaven, I love the thought of Emily becoming his new best friend! She could show him how Heaven works, and he could teach her what he knows about Hell, and together they could try to find a way to let Charlie know that redemption actually works.

Plus, there's the angst potential of Sir Pentious interacting with Molly - he knows who Angel Dust is, and she knows who Anthony is, but they don't know they're talking about the same person... I'd love to see a Pen/Emily/Molly trio going on escapades in Season 2!

OTP: CherriSnake! I wasn't sure about the ship at first, but it's grown on me. It's a neat example of the enemies-to-lovers trope, where Sir Pentious' admiration for Cherri as a worthy opponent turns into something more romantic. And they could have bonded over being inventors - Pen with his gadgets and Cherri with her "brilliant explosive contraptions". Too bad he only confessed his love a few seconds before his heroic sacrifice...

I think I like this ship for its potential. What will Cherri do now that Pen is gone? Will she find out he's in Heaven? Will that motivate her to stay at the Hazbin Hotel, to get redeemed herself and be reunited with him? It's rife with story possibilities!

nOTP: Sir Pentious and Vox (StaticSnake?). Mainly because Vox told Pen to kill himself in Episode 2. That was unacceptable.

Random headcanon: Sir Pentious has a son! Remember that moment in the pilot when Angel said, "Harder, Daddy!" and Pen replied, "Son?!" I think Pen did actually father a child when he was alive, and he'd been scouring Hell trying to find him again. (And for a moment there, he thought Angel was declaring that he was his son.) Pen never found his son in Hell, but now he's in Heaven, maybe he'll have better luck...

Unpopular opinion: I actually quite like Sir Pentious' singing voice! It's nowhere near as bad as people make it out to be. And I much prefer it when characters' singing voices match their speaking voices, instead of being wildly different. (Looking at you, Vaggie.)

Song I associate with them: @hazbinned made a video of Pen being kept awake at night by Angel blasting out "Made You Look" by Meghan Trainor, so now I associate that song with Sir Pentious! LOL!

Favourite picture of them:

#hazbin hotel #sir pentious #egg bois #angel dust #cherri bomb #cherrisnake #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel emily #molly hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel molly #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #vaggie #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel pilot

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 14 days

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I am looking forward to the release of The Tortured Poets Department and I am especially looking forward to finding out if the lyrics to "My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys" are applicable to Angel Dust and Valentino's relationship.

I mean, come on, Angel literally calls himself "his favourite toy," tell me you see my vision -

#every time i listen to a taylor swift song i'm thinking “which of my blorbos do you fit?”#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #my boy only breaks his favourite toys #hazbin hotel #angel dust #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #valangel #blorbo from my shows

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 17 days

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What I Mean When I Say, "I Ship Huskerdust"

When I say, "I ship Huskerdust," I don't mean that I think it would be a perfect example of a healthy relationship. Because it wouldn't be.

They've both got issues that they would need to work through if they wanted their relationship to succeed.

On Angel's side, there's the fact that his prior interactions with Husk basically consisted of him flirting with Husk, and Husk making it clear that he wasn't interested, and Angel ignoring that and doing it again. That's harassment.

Yes, Angel stops doing it after Episode 4, but he never explicitly apologises for it. That was a missed opportunity, in my opinion. It was a change for the show to say loudly and clearly, "Hey, trauma sucks, we get that, but it's not an excuse to treat people badly yourself. You grow by owning up to your mistakes and trying to be better than the person who hurt you."

Speaking of trauma...

Angel is being abused by Valentino and exploited in the porn industry. That's not a personal failing. It's not Angel's fault. But it has affected him deeply, and it's something that he and Husk would need to work through.

It's not going to be all sunshine and rainbows. Angel will cry, Angel will get angry, Angel will lash out. He will behave inappropriately, and he will keep being hypersexual because he knows how to do it and sometimes it feels like the safest option. And he will have no idea how to just rest with a loved one and trust them. So Husk will need to be the bigger person and take all the ups and downs and keep loving Angel through the dark days.

But I don't know if Husk has what it takes to do that.

That leads me nicely onto the issues on Husk's side. For starters, there's his judgemental attitude. He's a gambler, and therefore believes he can read people and know everything about them. Angel's "It's not an act!" outburst shakes Husk and makes him realise that he didn't really know what was going on.

But even after that, Husk is still judging Angel. It happens in Episode 6, when Angel is offered drugs by Cherri Bomb and Husk says, "Look, you wanna fuck up all your progress, be my guest. I just ... I just thought you were better than that."

Addicts can relapse if they go back to their old environments and old relationships. It happens. And it's probably not a good idea to be so condemnatory about it.

Can you imagine what Husk's reaction would be if Angel really did relapse? Would Angel feel safe opening up to Husk again if he knew how badly Husk could take it?

Sometimes, it seems as though Husk puts Angel on a pedestal. In Episode 8, when he tells Angel, "I guess you have changed," Angel doesn't look convinced, instead changing the subject. Husk sees Angel as better than Angel thinks he is.

And that goes hand-in-hand with when he was judging Angel more harshly in earlier episodes. Husk applies higher standards to Angel.

I think part of the reason why Husk is so hard on Angel is because Husk sees something in Angel that he doesn't see in himself - youth and potential. Husk has made it clear that he isn't trying to get into Heaven. He probably doesn't think he deserves it. That's why he told Angel not to look for answers to problems at the bottom of a bottle, but continued to drink himself.

My theory is that Husk is working on Angel because he finds it easier than working on himself.

It's much easier to judge and boss around others than to acknowledge and rectify your own flaws. To borrow a metaphor from Jesus Christ himself, Husk is trying to take specks of sawdust out of Angel's eye while he's still got plenty of planks in his own eye.

One of those planks being his complicity in the Overlord system.

Yes, I should probably mention that Husk used to be an Overlord. He used to participate in the very system that is now trapping and torturing Angel.

And he gambled with the souls that he owned! He put their afterlives at stake! Can you imagine being owned by Husk, thinking you knew where you stood, and then waking up one day to be told that you were now owned by someone else? Potentially someone as bad as Valentino?

(Now, I don't think Husk ever actually played a game with Valentino, given that he can't seem to remember Val's name in Episode 6, but still, the implications are horrifying.)

Angel didn't have too big a reaction when Husk opened up about his past. But that's probably because he was still reeling a bit from his own outburst. Once it had sunk in, how did he feel?

How can Angel feel safe and loved around someone who used to own souls and gamble with them carelessly? Someone who apparently still has his Overlord powers? Someone who could turn into yet another Valentino in the wrong circumstances?

How can a romance work?

Can a romance work?

Despite all of that?!

No, when I say, "I ship Huskerdust," I don't mean, "I think they're fluffy and adorable and 100% unproblematic." I mean, "Huskerdust contains interesting dynamics that are fun to explore." There's something about their interactions that I enjoy.

And Huskerdust could be a good way for the cartoon to dive into its themes of redemption and second changes.

Husk could change Angel for the better. We can see that, after Episode 4, Angel is willing to be more honest about what he's going through. He actually tells Niffty about the gruelling 16-hour shift Valentino put him through, instead of trying to pretend he's been all right.

If they became an official couple, Husk could show Angel what it's like to have someone genuinely care for him and his wellbeing, not just use him for money-making or self-gratification. Since Husk isn't interested in Angel's hypersexual porn star persona, it would be a chance for Angel to take the time to figure out who he (Anthony?) really is.

Angel could change Husk for the better, too. Other Tumblr bloggers have pointed out that Husk seemed to be drinking a little less after Episode 4. Perhaps watching Angel attempting self-improvement encouraged Husk to give it a go as well, albeit in a more low-key way.

And if Husk was the one who got Angel out of his contract with Valentino, that would be a great culmination of his character arc. It would be his own personal redemption for participating in the cruel Overlord system, because he'd be freeing someone from an Overlord's control. He'd be correcting his past mistakes. I for one would love to see that in a future season.

That is what I mean when I say "I ship Huskerdust."

TL;DR Angel and Husk are not perfect people, not by a long shot - but they could be perfect for each other.

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