#HuskWeek2025
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arahusk.bsky.social
Day 6: Bath.

Husk gets fatally injured on a job, and only Alastor is with him. Looks like he can't exactly avoid a proper bath now.
#HuskWeek2025 #radiohusk #fic

(extremely late but!! I suddenly had an idea that I wanted to write out for this prompt. enjoy the weird kitty bath.)

1/2
Husk doesn't always make the effort. A quick shower is what usually does the trick. Barely five minutes under the water stream, shaking out the moisture from his fur and the soap suds with it. He didn't need to put on an image, not anymore. As long as he was mostly clean, and wearing some clothes, and could see straight enough to do his job. Except now. He didn't remember falling into the floor. But the ache in his knees woke him up, just barely. And with that, was the pain. He choked on air. Blood seeped through his fur, staining the hardwood beneath. He was a mess. He was torn apart. He could barely speak because of the gash across his throat. "I suppose that last job truly did you in this time, Husker! You truly are getting on in years, aren't you?" The grainy radio filter wormed its way into his ears. He shuddered, hacking out a cough that sprayed more blood across the floor. It was half-done on purpose. All Husk could really remember was the rain of bullets that had lodged into his stomach, and then the slash of a knife aimed at his face. A stupid run-of-the-mill intel job that his boss had delegated to him. Go into this one Overlord's territories. Assess the situation. Maybe kill a pawn or two. It had backfired with complete disaster. Husk getting caught. Husk losing his angle on a fight with one bastard even though he had blown apart the brains of a several more. And then, by the end of of it, he was clutching his throat, gasping out a name. He wasn't sure if he had whispered out his boss's name as a plea or a curse. However Alastor had retrieved him, he couldn't name. He couldn't name his own fucking birthday if he wanted to. He was leaking out of multiple holes in his body. He was choking on his own blood. He was dying. And just when he thought Alastor would have been just fine with watching Husk fade away on the floor, his boss surprised him. He felt hands place themselves over his back. Then, encircling over his waist. He tried to bite back a shout as he was lifted up. Fuck, he's really going to make me die standing up?! Yet, an arm moved to lift him upwards. And another dipped below to curve beneath his knees. By this moment, he could barely see, hazy from the pain, blood filling his vision as he was cradled. "I suppose I'll just need to take care of you," he heard in disbelief. Alastor never made any sense to him. Everything after was slipped in and out of reality for Husk, like he was stuck in between dreams. He felt fingers through his fur, even over his wounds, poking and prodding to make him hiss in pain. The closeness of heat was near his chest. And then, the sound of running water. Was Alastor planning to dump him in a lake? Or drown him in the bathtub? He fell asleep. He woke up. Water rushed over his legs, dampening his fur. His blood turned the water dark. Hands then hovered over the wound in his neck, inches away from torn nerves. Then, he fell asleep again, held up in the water. He was sure he had died at some point. Regeneration wasn't new to Husk. He'd find himself in the same alleyway he had died in three weeks before, experiencing the worst migraine of his afterlife. It was always a slow process, always filled with memories of darkness, of screams, of his own regrets. So, he was surprised when he woke, that he realized he hadn't been dreaming of anything at all. The water he laid in was clear, no longer tainted by his blood. He breathed in a scent that wasn't tepid or rotting, nothing of the sort. Almost pleasant, like lavender and incense. He breathed in again, and was soon aware that the wound in his neck was gone. His right arm was lifted up by another hand. Fingers moved to entwine themselves over his own, the water dripping down to splash back into the filled bathtub. The touches he felt were caresses, with another hand still pressed over his stomach. Fingers that rubbed into his fur, where the bullet wounds used to be.
July 28, 2025 at 8:32 AM
arahusk.bsky.social
Day 5: Overlord.

Before Husk offered his soul to Alastor and fell from up high, he'd already been falling so much, so fast, all for a smile. #HuskWeek2025 #radiohusk #fic

1/2
An acrid spark of green burst to life right in front of Husk's face. There was a moment of panic, his controlled composure breaking. It made wrinkles in his suit. It even ruffled his feathers—literally speaking. Alastor put on an amused smirk. At his fingertip, the little green flame wavered, casting shadows over his cheeks. "So jumpy. I simply thought you needed a light." His eyes flicked towards the cigar Husk held within his claws. "You really think you're a comedian, huh?" A grinding of sharp teeth, all while Husk tried to furl in his wings once more, careful to not upend another feather out of place. "Just as you think you're a magician.” He still held up the flame, almost more of a command than an offering. Husk leaned forward, taking the light—the same color of the cold, hard cash that he had locked away in a vault through three layers of concrete. He took a deep drag, waiting to see who would pull away first. He didn't understand yet just how patient Alastor could be. Every week or so, the Overlord of unbelievable luck, chronic gambling, alcoholic desperation, and unsated greed, would meet with the Radio Demon. It would always be on his own turf, within his grinning Cheshire-like casino, in the back where plush VIP rooms stayed fresh and clean for worthy patrons. Husk always figured it was best to see one's poker face up close. Alastor had been such an oddball at first. Coming through the front door with a "How do you do? Quite a pleasure to be finally meeting the cat who got the cream!" and speaking into his cane as if he were conducting some impromptu interview. He didn't seem like any sort of threat at all. Just some guy with a big mouth that didn't know when to quit, always just bordering on annoying. Husk didn't know when he got charmed, or if it happened in increments instead of overnight. Alastor's voice could be grating, and yet sometimes it could also be like honey, like a slow drip down one’s skull. Only one small detail kept him at bay. "There's some talk around town that you're after my soul," Husk said during one of their get-togethers. He'd slid over a whiskey sour to Alastor at the bar where they sat. He mixed it himself. He wasn't half bad at it. "And I just gotta ask you, what's the hold up?" They'd known each other for months by that point. He didn't peg Alastor to waste his time, going by those so-called radio shows, where the screams would start before Husk could remember to turn the dial. Alastor accepted the drink, encircling his fingers around the glass. He didn't move to lift it. Didn't even come close to drinking it at all. "Husker, you really think I would waste such an entertaining soul like yours?"
June 25, 2025 at 10:46 AM
unseelie-courtesan.bsky.social
I couldn't get this fic out of my head! Amazing writing as always, and the thought of Alastor peeking over Husk's tail like a lady with a fan was just too cute. Thank you for sharing. ❤️🥰❤️
#RadioHusk #HuskWeek2025
June 22, 2025 at 8:02 PM
arahusk.bsky.social
Day 4: Secrets

Just as Niffty was obsessed with clean floors and insect wings, she also loved to gossip about the little secrets she knew. And she always made sure to tell Husk, especially when their boss was involved. #HuskWeek2025 #radiohusk #fic

1/2
Husk heard a whisper that was like the soft hissing of cockroaches. It was no surprise that it was Niffty who was trying to call him over, giving him a frantic wave as she peeked around the handle of her mop. Almost as if it would hide her, and with her tiny size, it nearly did. Her eye shone like a house on fire, the light of it reflecting off her sharp teeth. Husk sighed. But he saw nothing else in her hands, and no weird creepy-crawlies in her hair, so he walked over from his bar, moving to the secluded hallway. He expertly bypassed the puddles of pail water that were still soaking the carpets. "What is it, Niff?" The maid was gripping the handle until it nearly splintered in her grip. She must have been really excited about something. "I got a real good secret about the boss for you~!" He frowned. "What makes you think I want to even know it?" Niffty giggled, her pupil dilating. "Because it's so tasty." Curiosity killed the cat, as they say. But he was already dead and buried, way over six feet under. What more could be done to him really? That, and he knew Niffty wouldn't let up until she told him. "Fine, spill it." This was gonna be either stupid or horrifying. But after seeing Alastor devour several sinners alive, he was sure he heard it all. The only secret Niffty could have known was whether Alastor liked his corpses grilled or crispy. "Okay, but you have to promise you won't tell anyone else!" Niffty quickly leaned her mop against the wall and its peeling wallpaper. "It's a forbidden kind of secret." He did all he could to not roll his eyes. "Does the boss secretly watch game shows on the TV set downstairs? Promise I won't tell a soul for this awful scandal of his." But what he didn't expect was when Niffty pulled out something from her pockets. It looked like...some sort of raggedy doll, one that was completely in her liking, down to the single crimson button to serve as an eye. It had black thread sewn on its face for a smile, and even wore her exact style of dress, down to the little blood splatters. He knew Niffty was absurdly young at heart, but this was pushing it. "So, uh... new hobby of yours?" It seemed likely when Niffty also pulled out a needle, holding it delicately in her other hand. But she shook her head. "Alastor made this. I just helped!" She grinned. "He likes sewing up dolls of us!" Husk instantly knew he wasn't going to like what she would say next. Niffty balanced the needle in her fingers, looking ready to stab something. She gazed at her mini-self with fondness, even with the numerous patches sewn over its limbs. "Alastor said he used to make a bunch of these when he was alive. But, he only makes dolls of those he likes and wants to protect! And he gave me this!" She hugged it tightly, giggling off-key. "He says I can be trusted with it now. And that he made sure the hair would always stay soft and that the pretty dress won't rip!" Husk remained quiet. This was a mistake. He shouldn't have stayed. Yet, it was like those very needles Niffty always carried was pinning him to this very spot. "He also has a doll of you." She raised her singular eye to him. Engulfing red, with only a tiny pinprick of black. "It's so cute and cuddly! He even uses real fur and feathers for it. He lets me pet it, hehe." It was his own. He didn't even question it. Husk remembered waking up one morning to find his arm a little less fuzzy. He remembered feeling his wings with stings of pain, as if someone had pulled out the feathers in nondescript places. "Where is it?" he asked. He didn't specify. But Niffty always had a scarily quick mind.
June 17, 2025 at 8:48 AM
arahusk.bsky.social
Day 3: Chains.

Alastor loves to play with Husk's chains. It should be frustrating, or maybe Husk was just used to it. #HuskWeek2025 #radiohusk
The chains linked to Husk's soul were like the bars to a cage, locking him tight. No matter what he tried, he couldn't break free. But sometimes, they felt more like a web. Taunting him, his every breath tracked, his every movement watched. Less restrictive. Maybe even more hopeful. Alastor loved to make things literal. Once, Husk woke up half-suspended over the floor of what was definitely not his room, his body laid out over an intricate crossbeam pattern of sickly green links. When he settled against them, he could feel the very subtle sting of acid against his wings, how it threatened to burn, how it threatened to tear him apart if he made the mistake of staying longer. He almost thought at times he would fall, so unbalanced as he was. The manacle was over his neck, clamped tight. It always was. But the thing was, you wear your collar long enough, you get used to it. The weight, the burn, all of it. It's just something chronic, a dull ache to be ignored. Husk let his legs dangle through the gaps between the chains, like he was in some twisted hammock. His tail curled through the air, all as he stared up at the ceiling. Maybe he used to feel more pain from this. Maybe he just forgot how. "And to think you used to shout and struggle whenever I'd invite you over. What an improvement!" Husk rolled his eyes before he turned to the side, finding the Overlord just a few feet away. Alastor was sitting at his armchair in his den, a glass of rye in hand, reading a novel and of course, not even looking at him. The radio, placed in an alcove on the wall nearby, decided to play just then. It was an old jazz number with its grainy texture and nearly saccharine lyrics—or maybe it had been playing the whole time. Just background noise, something that Husk could barely notice anymore. "Maybe because the act is getting old, boss. Ran out of ways to do your little power play over me?" How many times had Alastor used the very soul chains he commanded to mess with Husk? From making them act like living snakes complete with hissing noises to scare him out of his fur, to tying them around his wrists, looping the links into a stupid bow. At least this weird chain mesh was somewhat different. The end of such chains embedded themselves in the ceiling with rusty hooks, but he saw one glowing metal strand extend from his manacle. It led below, to Alastor, and to his hand which twirled the chains around deft fingers. Husk's tail twitched, as if it could remember. He groaned in annoyance. "Whatever. I guess you're not hanging me by my feet again." His ankles still bore bruises from that time. "Ooo, that truly was a fun one. You were flapping your wings so much!" Alastor chuckled as he ran a thumb over the links. Husk felt every caress, every slow lingering touch. Husk wondered if all of this was meant to be torture. But Alastor was a torture fanatic, and he knew the Radio Demon could do worse. His very reputation was proof of that. No. This was more equivalent to an annoying prank. Something to grab his attention. For some reason. "If I'm stuck up here, can you at least get me something to—?" He stopped when a liquor bottle appeared in his hand, conjured from shadows. It wasn't the cheap stuff either. Rye that was aged well, clearly from Alastor's own collection. "You hardly even need to ask," Alastor said, finally turning to face Husk. He continued moving the links between fingers, all while admiring the little pet within its cage. Or his web. Husk leaned back again, taking a long sip from Alastor's gift. It was a rich, full flavor, spreading warmth through his limbs. The radio continued its song with its familiar filter. It was like listening to the oncoming rain storm.
June 12, 2025 at 9:56 AM
monic4ke.bsky.social
day 7 - pairing with your favorite character

#huskweek2025 #husk #sparkle
June 11, 2025 at 10:53 PM
osakananomegumi.bsky.social
Day7. free 　
🐈から🦌の情報を知りたい📺
※staticradio、radiohusk成分あり
#HuskWeek2025 #statichusk
俺得ship😊
June 11, 2025 at 8:07 AM
tigermcheh.bsky.social
Daily Sketch - HuskWeek 7
Day 7 - Free
Little one cuz i'm busy today 😳
#Husk #huskhazbinhotel #hazbinhotel #hazbinhotel #HuskWeek #HuskWeek2025 #sketch #CasinoHacker #Tiger #imp #impsona
June 9, 2025 at 3:00 PM
as925.bsky.social
Day7 Free
#HuskWeek2025
June 9, 2025 at 2:15 PM
arahusk.bsky.social
Day 2: Tail

To Husk's dismay, he can't control every part of his body. This works to Alastor's advantage. #HuskWeek2025 #radiohusk #fic
There were other aspects to hate about his body, beyond the fur and the hearts. His wings would have been a benefit if they weren't so damn big and weighed him down, and his claws tended to scratch the very shot glasses he was trying to clean. No, the real problem was how Husk's body betrayed him so damn much. He had been cleaning up around Alastor's home, since his boss decided to give Niffty a day off to pursue her so-called creative pursuits (making little roach necklaces and other awful horrors) and his back was already aching from the strain of the work. He had no idea how Niffty was able to clean up Alastor's mess of a home and still have time to stalk her favorite bad boys. But as he had been gathering up some spare skulls in Alastor's den with a grimace, he then suddenly felt a prick at the very end of his tail. Like a sharp sting, making his stomach roil and his fur stand on end. Husk shot up to his feet and turned. "Are you doing it again?!" Alastor was already putting something away inside his coat, but Husk caught the flash of familiar red, brighter than the demon's clothes. He hadn't heard the man walk in, but that meant nothing when he could just use his shadows to move around to his hollow heart's content. "Evening, Husker. I don't know what you're talking about." Husk flicked a glance to his tail. The fan of feathers at the end of it was uneven, a small gap between the red. He growled. "I already told you to leave my tail alone." "Why, you have no proof I even did such a thing!" Alastor shook his head. "Spreading such lies, what a shame." "Just fuck off away from me while I'm trying to clean up your own shit!" He was holding up a skull which still had bits of skin on it, then promptly dropped it in disgust. "It's annoying." Alastor smirked, fingers tapping along the sides of his cane. "Then why don't you simply control it?" Husk pressed his lips together, not deigning to answer. "You just can't seem to keep it away from me." "That's not what's happening," he said with finality. And, to make that absolutely clear, Husk moved further back, heading for a corner. There was even more awful shit here; cracked rib cages, some rotting pelts, all amidst a storm of broken radio parts with frayed wires, ripped-off dials, and torn pieces of wood. Niffty really did have insane energy to keep Alastor's home in some kind of neat condition. This time, he heard Alastor pass him by, who made no secret of it. Shoes clacked against the wooden floorboards, along with the even thunk of the cane. Husk had time. He could stop it from happening. Just don't let it act on its own. Don't let it. Don't let it. "I'm trying to do my fucking job here," Husk muttered grouchily. There really was so much trash, it would take him several trips to the garbage just to clean up this one corner. He heard the steps receding, saw a flash of red in the corner of his eyes. He could avoid it now. Except, he didn't. He felt it then. Something that made him flush in shame. How his tail curved around a leg, halting its motion. How it slithered to a hand that stroked at the feathers, that cradled the tail and pressed a thumb over the black fur. The way the tail tightened and embraced. His tail was a goddamn traitor. Husk didn't even want to turn, but feeling the soft touches that made his tail shiver—that made himself shiver—he couldn't help but risk a glance over his shoulder. Alastor chuckled in mischief, bringing up the end of Husk's tail to cover his mouth, like some maiden coyly looking over her decorative fan. Then, he took another feather, making Husk wince. He held the feather stalk in between two fingers, yet the tail stayed close, rubbing against a cheek. "You really can't stay away, can you?"
June 9, 2025 at 7:35 AM
felixlynxer.bsky.social
Repost for #huskweek2025
felixlynxer.bsky.social Felix Lynxer @felixlynxer.bsky.social · May 20
#Husk might no longer be a demon overlord, but he's still clever and skilled enough to strike a good deal with a human to regain some of his power.

You can't always be the winner, but in this case, being a LOSER has its own perks~

#Art by @nearusenpai.bsky.social
#TFTuesday #TFsky #HazbinHotel
A transformation sequence imaged composed of three parts. On the first image, a young human, wearing a demon cat/bird hybrid costume from the neck down. The body has white and black fur, wearing black pants with suspenders, a big red tie on the neck, and behind him there's a pair of big pair of red wings with card symbols and a long cat tail with red feathers on its tip. Above the human's head there is a catlike mask with red eyebrows, long ears with tiny heart symbols, and a black top hat. The next image shows the human wearing the mask, adjusting it to his face as one of his ears shift to yellow with black sclera. The last image shows the human fully transformed into the demon cat/bird, calling himself Husk. His body looks larger and muscular, as he is shifting a deck of cards with his paws. 1: -But how could I lose...? I had three queens and a Joker...! -Sadly, this ain't Balatro, you dork! -Now, we had a deal, remember? -Yeah... I lost... 2: -Evening, Folks! Name's Husk~ -Should I get you a drink...? Or... Should I go straight to kick your ass at Poker?
June 9, 2025 at 3:59 AM
haajenn.bsky.social
Day 7 Free is just a WIP for now.
Don't know if I'll finish, but they sure will ;)

#huskweek2025 #husk #nsfw #ifuckinhatebackgroundssomuch #wip #huskerdust #hellaverse #healthcodeviolation
June 8, 2025 at 8:19 PM
marryhoney160.bsky.social
Day7 Free
お風呂ネタ続き
#HuskWeek2025
#hzbn夢
June 8, 2025 at 3:23 PM
marryhoney160.bsky.social
Day6 お風呂
#HuskWeek2025
#hzbn夢
June 8, 2025 at 3:22 PM
marryhoney160.bsky.social
Day4 横顔
#HuskWeek2025
#hzbn夢
June 8, 2025 at 3:21 PM
tigermcheh.bsky.social
Daily Sketch - HuskWeek 6
Day 6 - Genderbend
Some LadyLuck, anyone?~
#Husk #huskhazbinhotel #hazbinhotel #hazbinhotel #HuskWeek #HuskWeek2025 #sketch #CasinoHacker #Tiger #imp #impsona #genderbend
June 8, 2025 at 3:00 PM
as925.bsky.social
Day6 Bath
Japanes Onsen style ♨️

#HuskWeek2025
June 8, 2025 at 1:49 PM
ace-on-the-line.bsky.social
#HuskWeek2025

Day 7: Free/Pair With Favorite Character
(Probs not what they meant, but I'm going with it lol)
ace-on-the-line.bsky.social 🩷Ace/Jay: Husk's #1 Huskette🖤 @ace-on-the-line.bsky.social · Jun 2
Call this an *EARLY* post for "Husk Week" (Day 7: Free).
Husk teases Amy 'bout her small fangs & learns his lesson... >:3

[ #AceofHearts❤️ | #Selfship | #HazbinHotel | #Husk | #HazbinHotelAmy | #Hellsona ]
Husk is teasing Amy about her small fangs. Husk: Y'know, I've noticed somethin' about you, Baby. Amy: What is it, Husky? (We see a diagram of their fangs.) (Husk: Sharp, pointy fangs) (Amy: Rounded, less sharp fangs) Husk: Your fangs, Baby. They're not as sharp and big as mine. (Husk is bravely putting a finger close to her fangs) Amy: Huskyy! They're not that small, though– Husk: I know. They're still kinda cute, though. Just look at 'em. So small. So cute... Amy: Grrrr... (Amy's fangs come fully out. "Small but... Retractable!) (Amy bites Husk's fingers) Husk: OW!! Dammit! (Husk retreats his hand away, which now has bite marks on one finger.) Husk: The hell?! That hurt! (Amy is looking smugly at Husk. Her fangs still out.) Amy: I know. That was the point. *Don't* underestimate me.
June 8, 2025 at 1:46 PM
0ki9.bsky.social
Day7 Free／＋好きなキャラ
#HuskWeek2025
June 8, 2025 at 12:52 PM
azimech7.bsky.social
Day7 Pairing with Favorite Character
#HuskWeek2025
June 8, 2025 at 10:31 AM
arahusk.bsky.social
Day 1: Heart

Husk hates the hearts all over his body. Mimzy points out how useful it can be to him though. #HuskWeek2025 #radiohusk
It's such a cruel joke, Husk would think to himself. Not only to be cursed with a cat-like body for all of eternity, but to also have a cat-like body with hearts all over it. It wasn't just one or two placements over his fur. It was fucking everywhere, from the span of his wings, then down to his stupid paw pads. And, of course, certain people couldn't stop talking about it. "Ooo, are those little heart cushions still as soft as before?" Mimzy was swirling the glass he had just given her as she pointed at his hands. The whiskey wasn't from their most valued bottles, still fairly fresh, with no nuance to its flavor. Not like the woman would have been able to tell. "Take it from me. You should always make sure to take care of the merchandise." Husk immediately pulled his hands away from the counter top, pointedly choosing a different part of the bar to clean. He pressed the dirty rag so hard against the surface, that he mildly scratched the wood grain. That would come out of his nonexistent salary at this dump of a bar that Alastor had put him in, just one of many in the Radio Demon's territories. "That's not in my contract, so fuck off." The fact that Husk had to serve drinks to this so-called friend of Alastor's was bad enough. He was already getting headaches from past Mimzy experiences, namely when she'd go to this casino with no damn money in her purse. "No, I'm serious!" Mimzy was laughing as she kicked her feet against her stool. Her sharp teeth looked hungrily at his waist, but only because she was probably trying to find his wallet. "Alastor's always been a cat person. Those paw pads are your one-way ticket to getting on his good side!" "Yeah, no such side of him exists." Husk has seen enough of Alastor's sides; all frustrating, all terrifying. "Also these look so goddamn stupid, so don't even start." He knew what people thought. Bottom of the barrel deadbeat with nothing to his name, nothing but these heart-marks that looked off-shape from his mussy fur. He'd already lost count the number of ways Mimzy had tried to poke fun at him for it, but he'd grit his teeth and it would offend the outdated flapper. She downed her drink, then shook the ice cubes within like an annoying maraca. "That just shows you don't know him! Alastor always had a soft side for cutesy things like yourself." "Don't fucking call me that." "Come onnn, have you seriously never used these on dear old Al?" Mimzy narrowed her eyes at his hands, as if she could pierce through fur and bone to see that golden heart-shaped paw pad. "Besides, you should know what it means." God, he shouldn't humor her, but her words were so damn cryptic. "The hell you talking about." She finally moved her gaze to settle on his ear, where another heart shape was on, the red color so frustratingly bright. She even pointed at it, as if she was preparing to flick it. He'd slash off her smile first. "You're a heartbreaker." A twitch over his eyebrow. Something bitter slid down his throat, like slow-dripping poison. "And your tab's running too high." He swung the dirty bar rag over his shoulder, turning away from her. He extended his wings so that she would get the damn point. "Bar's closed." "Hmph. And here I am, ready and waiting. Sometimes I can't understand Alastor's taste." Even after she left, he couldn't escape his own reflection, a dozen faces of his looking back at him from a row of glass bottles. Always a heart mark wherever he laid eyes on, as if a trail was left. If that was the first thing Alastor noticed about him, he wasn't any different from anyone else.
June 8, 2025 at 8:15 AM
0ki9.bsky.social
Day6 お風呂／女体化
#HuskWeek2025
June 8, 2025 at 3:11 AM
lurkingsky.bsky.social
Day 3: bottom/chains

Bottom? More like...rock bottom

#Husk #Alastor #HazbinHotel #HazbinHotelfanart #HuskWeek2025
Husk looking up in a dark cavern illuminated by Alastor's green magic from the top, Husk stuck at the bottom looking in despair while Alastor's demons come into view and past overlord's souls swirl above him
June 8, 2025 at 2:59 AM
monic4ke.bsky.social
day 6 - bath

#huskweek2025 #husk #hazbinhotel
June 8, 2025 at 12:56 AM