Look, I can understand where people are coming from when they criticize the portryal of the female characters in Helluva Boss.
But extending that same criticism to Hazbin Hotel is where I draw the fucking line.
Hazbin literally has a female protagonist with her own independant goal, who has to work hard for it because people constantly belittle her ideas and beliefs, and eventually gets proven right when it works in the end. Charlie tried to do what was thought impossible, and accomplished it when Sir Pentious gets ascended to heaven. Her love interest has her own backstory before meeting Charlie, where she used to work for the same exorcists who are responsible for nearly driving Charlie's people to extinction and almost making her fail to redeem anyone at the hotel. Vaggie kept this a secret from Charlie since they met, and Charlie feels betrayed by Vaggie to the point of not feeling like she should trust her anymore until it gets resolved. Vaggie has more characterizarion in season 1 of Hazbin alone than Millie does in the entirety of Helluva Boss pre-Hell's Belle's.
Lute is one of the main antagonists. She contributed just as much to the genocide as Adam did, is openly bigoted like Adam, has more common sense than Adam, is the only exorcist with a name, is just as much of a threat to the hotel as Adam is and most of all she survives while he doesn't. Sera approved of the genocide, but felt guilty about it because Adam would've probably killed her or something, which Emily calls her out on regardless. Speaking of Emily, she joins Charlie in on calling heaven out for their hypocrisy and literally says she detests being treated like a child.
Velvette is no less evil than the other two Vees. She sells love potions (aka date rape drugs) and treats her employees cruelly just like they do. She also disrepected the other overlords without giving two shits. Carmilla wasn't having any of Velvette's BS, is protective of Zestial, literally killed an exorcist (despite angels being much more powerful than demons, so that's pretty impressive on it's own) to protect her daughters and figured out that Vaggie was a fallen angel just by knowing what her choice of weapon was. She encouraged Vaggie to fight for the whole hotel, not just for Charlie. Cherri Bomb has an interesting rivalry with Sir Pentious in the pilot that eventually grows into a healthy relationship, and she goes against Valentino just to help and comfort Angel Dust in the Addict music video. Sadly she doesn't do much after that, but at least she got to participate in fighting for the hotel in The Show Must Go On, so it's better than nothing I suppose.
Rosie is one of the few people who Alastor has a genuine friendship with. She played a big part in Charlie trying to give a speech to Cannibal Town, and encouraged her to trust Vaggie again. Mimzy, while I dislike her, is the whole reason why the plot of Dad Beat Dad even happened. She tried to use her friendship with Alastor to get herself out of trouble, so the episode techically wouldn't of happened without her. It's also telling that Alastor didn't eat her or try to kill her for screwing things up, since he's done just that to others for much less. Even Niffty, who's mostly just there for comic relief, is another character who Alastor gets along with. He may own her soul, but he's a lot nicer to her than he is to Husk, who he keeps on a chain and abuses in a not-so-different way that Valentino does to Angel Dust, only without SA involved. Niffty is also the one who kills Adam in the end, so there you go.
That's a BUNCH more than what can be said for most of the ladies in Helluva. (Most of whom I also like, but their writing really does leave something to be desired, though it does seem to be slightly improving with the Hell's Belles short and the promise of a Millie focused episode in Ghostfuckers.) For the record I don't think the writing for the female characters in HH is perfect by any means, but it's a far cry from being anywhere near as bad as HB like many antis claim it is. I think they just say that shit because HB takes place in the same universe as Hazbin and both shows were created by the same person, (aka the guilt by association fallacy) or they just think Vivzie can't do anything right no matter what she does.
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Something something about Buck and learning and or teaching.
Something something about Buck teaching when he really needed to be learning.
I just keep thinking about how the show has increasingly - especially last season - put Buck into the role of 'teacher' - including his coma dream. (i'm using teacher for the lack of a better term!) and how in the aftermath of the coma dream - he's been trying to teach but it hasn't worked - instead he's been learning.
I've been musing on the fact that even back in season 1 Buck has been in a teacher role -
Abby learning to chose herself and go for her happiness,
Bobby learning to let people in and Buck being a major part of that because of their developing father-son type relationship
'teaching' Eddie that he could rely on other people for help
Maddie learning at Bucks hand that she didn't need to keep running, that she could lean on him for support and build a new life for herself
Ravi being tutored by Buck in the fire house
even Lucy being given advice by Buck - teaching her through his own experiences in dumb luck
Buck making himself into a teacher in his coma dream and the idea that all these people he has helped teach teaching him that he has a place with them and that he is important
and so many more examples through the seasons that I won't list or I'd be here forever!
Because there has been a lot of emphasis on teaching and learning since Buck woke up from his coma - he learnt he was good at maths, but then wasn't allowed to help Chris with his maths homework because it would be cheating.
used his maths skills to win at Poker - but got taught lessons even in victory - rather than teaching others lessons (whatever they might have been)
Natalia being interested in him because he could teach her about death and things going south pretty quickly when it became evident that Buck needed to learn how to live again rather than be stuck in death
And now we've had several mentions by Tommy of him teaching Buck things - teaching him to fly, teaching him Mauy Thai, all the way to him being his bi awakening is teaching him about a part of himself he didn't know. Things are turned on their head - Buck is the student not the master now
Even with Eddie this season, we've seen him teaching Buck things - rather than Eddie learning from him - Eddie handing over this really important thing going on with Chris - Eddie knowing that Buck would be a better option - that Chris would open up to him more - is teaching Buck about his importance in the Diaz family - re-enforcing that he is part of their life. Its also Eddie who has had the good advice for Buck this time rather than the other way round.
Something something about 'you like to be the guy with the answers' to Buck becoming the guy with the (maths) answers - only for it to fade away and now he's having to learn
Something something about the tie to Buck and death and the resurrection and how Christ was the teacher up to and immediately after his death and resurrection when he left others on earth to spread his teachings and he ascended to learn at the right hand of god
Something something about how that is the key to happiness and that is what Buck has figured out and that is why his journey to figuring that out has had him wearing the bright blue - because in Christianity - that shade of blue is the colour of the kingdom of heaven (because it is the colour of the sky!) so putting Buck in it at all these key markers of his journey is showing him as being on the road to ascension.
This post is a mess - I don't even know what it is any more! I started with one idea about teaching and Tommy and then more kept coming and we ended up here!!!!
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the ghosts of the past were the only thing that truly scared the ghost, the man who if someone'd seen him walking towards them from across the street at night, they would've started calling the first helpline number available and saying their prayers, even if they weren't believers.
in truth, ghost wasn't a troubled man, he barely was what was left of one, simon.
ghost wasn't a troubled man, but he was all that was left of one. every time the thick balaclava slipped on simons face, he'd turn off the few emotions that were still left in his body, mind running on autopilot as he coldly shut off his scarred heart. simon needed that, both a relief and a way to turn everything off, he needed to know it wasnt him killing people. it made his heart rest better to know it was ghost, not simon.
simon, who'd gone through hell and back, watching his friends, honourable soldiers, fall by the hand of a simple yet fatal mistake.
simon, whose family was slaughtered and he felt so helpless and unworthy, because why join the military and train to fight when he couldn't even protect his three years old nephew?
feeling so low he could barely keep his brown eyes open, he didn't think he was a man who deserved to live. why, when nobody was there to live with him? sure, johnny and kyle could try to cheer him up and distract him as much as they wanted, but they couldn't follow simon to his flat by the railways, in front of the man united stadium. price regularly called him: every other day to check up on him, ask him if he fancied a pint. simon rarely said yes, but he was grateful price didn't forget about him the moment they left base, it made him feel like he was, after all, someone. more than once even kyle booked a cheap hotel room near simon's place so he could spend time with him. forcing him to go outside and meet up with him and price. sometimes even johnny could make it, hopping on the first train from glasgow to see his lieutenant.
simon studied the pub. ironically, kyle always decided to drag him to the pub where simon spent his late teens with his mates from the time. that was, of course, before simon turned eighteen, and without speaking a word to anyone, left to join the military a week after his birthday. when he'd first come back, almost a year later, all his friends had either moved out of manchester or thought he'd moved out too, cutting off contacts. it was a shock for the few ones left to see his dog tags underneath his shirt when he first showed up again.
it was meaningless.
he was meaningless. flesh on bone, a heart pumping his veins full of life without him being able to stop it. schopenhaueresque, really.
simons complete view of life was of suffocating suffering, a meaningless amount of time he had to spend on this earth for what he used to believe was for a greater good. there was not such a thing, simon was sure of it now, a bottle of beer in his left hand as his right one brought his cigarette to his chapped, pale lips. he looked down the river irwin, the city noise muffled out by the quiet and calm chatter of people walking past him. he felt almost envious. they had someone to talk to.
but he'd never been the loquacious type either, tommy always did the talking, simon usually dragging both of their arses out of the messes tommy brought them in. that's how it worked, their dynamic. his brother talked, too much sometimes, even for him, and he made sure nothing happened, as easy as that. simon was the one who stepped in when things got bad, in any situation: outside of the pub with a drunk man that tommy'd pissed off with his witty remarks, older boys at school when they were children, or at home, with their father. needless to say, simon got the most of the beatings, scars adorning the skin of his back even before stepping on the field. the cigarette burns on his arms and legs itched every time he'd think too much about it.
ever since finding his brothers corpse on the stairs of his own home, front door unlocked, his wife and son dead on the master bedroom's bed, he'd been craving what it felt like to love someone again. he craved loving someone, craved the feeling of something so strong it would change every fiber of his being, that would alter the chemistry of his brain. it was almost visceral, the need he had to satisfy. he despised everything good there was in life, anything that should bring happiness bothered him, but he was still a human being, and being human meant longing for someone else, another half. yearning.
throwing the cigarette butt in the river, he turned around, not ready to be home in less than fifteen minutes. the feeling of getting swallowed in the darkness and silence of his own home made him almost paranoid, he was driving himself crazy. simon would have chosen to throw himself in the river if given the choice to pick between that and going home, but the early rays of the dawn started blinding him, and the shadows under his eyes were becoming darker by the second. maybe he'd take a longer route.
simons restless nights became quickly part of his life, following him everywhere around the globe during the years. he found in the lack of sleep a way to control his life, he desperately needed control. when all was to shambles, control was all he needed. sleep, exercise, food, sex, attitude and performance were things he could control, and the less he let himself slip into, the more in control his tired body felt.
"five hours of bad sleep every two days won't keep you alive." price'd told him, and simon groaned.
"good then."
"we need you alive, simon."
"ya need a soldier, not me."
"we need you, simon." price insisted, shaking his head. "you're a good man, we need you."
"i'm not a good man."
until his seventh year of mourning, simon never thought he would find peace of mind, but he found it coming along with spring's sweet scented flowers and chilly breezes; you.
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