Angel Dust and Husk go out to the carnival, and Angel sees a prize he just *has* to have. Husk says the games are rigged, but that's loser-talk.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74057421

“C’mon whiskers,” Angel said, flourishing a pair of hands up from his side toward the front of the line. “It’ll be fun! They got shows, food, games…”

“Those games are the only reason I’m taggin’ along.” Husk’s eyes rolled. “Gotta keep you from blowing all your money on rigged ring tosses.”

“Rigged? I always win on those, baby. It’s all in the wrist.” Angel punctuated his words by flicking his hand back and forth, and the gold-tinged grin on his face signalled he knew exactly the gesture he was making.

“Uh-huh.” Husk replied flatly, turning his attention back toward the line. The two of them were finally nearing the turnstiles at the entrance to the carnival, gaudy red and white tenting and banners contrasting against half-asleep ticketers.

“I’ll show you, just watch. Ask nicely and I’ll even get you a big prize,” Angel boasted, pushing his hands under his chest to straighten out his sweater and preen the fluff of his chest.

Upon crossing through the turnstile, Angel acted like a kid in a candy store. He took Husk’s grudging hand and strolled through the crowds, pointing out attractions he’d seen there last year, chatting about favorites and must-sees. He gushed about it all like it was the best thing in Hell.

“You come here every year? Is there some backstory about a stint in the circus I’m missing out on?” Husk raised up an eyebrow.

“It’s nice! All cute, and innocent. And nobody around here recognizes me,” Angel said, giving a wide gesture around himself. “Out here I’m just anybody else for the day.”

Husk paused as he heard that, cocking his head and looking at Angel from behind. The spider was all too wrapped up in the spectacle of the carnival to notice the way Husk reacted, the way his slender claws slacked their hold around Angel’s hand for a moment, before gripping a bit more charitably.

“But it’s crummy that there’s no ring toss this year,” Angel thought aloud, his upper arms crossing over his chest. He scanned over the stalls, looking far down the way. All Husk got to hear was an audible gasp before his arm was nearly yanked out of its socket, Angel dragging him away into the row of games.

“Hey, what’s the rush!” Husk said, stumbling his way to keep pace with Angel. “I’m half your damn size, slow down!”

“I could carry you,” Angel sing-songed, drawing an obscenity from Husk as the two of them bolted through the crowds, before Angel skidded to a stop in front of a stall and Husk bumped up against their side.

The cat snatched his hand back from Angel’s slack grip, as the spider pointed up at a row of prizes in the loft of the tent. Husk tracked sideways through the array of poorly made plushies of the ugliest, cheapest trash he’d ever seen, questioning if some of these even constituted anything that’d ever walked the Earth, before his eyes locked onto where Angel’s finger jabbed.

A pink, round, frowning blobfish.

Husk’s hand slapped over his face, dragging down over his eyes as if to wipe the thing from his vision.

“How the fu–”

“I want it,” Angel interrupted, slapping money down onto the counter. Fiery determination glowed behind the spider’s wide eyes, a grin widening on his face as he sized up the game in front of him. It was a classic of any carnival: bottles arranged in three pyramids at the back of the booth, with a counter separating Angel and his prize.

The guy running the stand, a green and purple furred demon with meager horns and a jester’s outfit straight out of a royal court, gestured grandly to the bottles.

“It’s easy as pie,” he said, a smirk on his muzzle as he produced a basket with three baseballs from behind the counter.

“Just knock over all three stacks with three throws, and you win a big prize. Knock over one, a little prize. And, if you think you’ve got a real pitcher’s arm there,” he delivered, forked tongue lolling from his lips. “You can double down, and you’ll win a big prize if you knock over just one. For twice the price, can’t find a better deal at any other booth.”

“Ooo, I’ll take it!” Angel declared, Husk’s blood pressure rising as the warning he was about to yell died on his lips. The extra cash hitting the table was quickly swept away out of sight as the basket of balls was set in front of Angel.

The little jester stepped aside, giving a melodramatic bow and gesturing to the bottles. Angel turned his head to Husk, a cocky grin on his face.

“Watch and learn.”

The first baseball went high over the bottles, hitting the back of the tent’s fabric and rolling its way toward the front.

“Hmph, just warming up.”

The second went a little lower, soaring barely above the tallest bottle on the stack. Angel’s eyes squinted, and Husk rubbed against his own temples as he watched Angel puzzle over his aim.

“It’s a–” Husk tried to say, before Angel put a finger to Husk’s lips, not even looking away from the bottles.

“Uh-uh-uh. I got this,” Angel stated, winding the last baseball back. His eyes glowered, and he squared up his shoulders, before putting his whole body into pitching the last ball.

It swung through the air as if in slow motion, and Husk stood there as it hit the bottles dead-on at their base. Angel’s eyes took on exhilaration as he saw it hit, but Husk simply watched as it bounced away, hitting the wall of the tent and barely making a rattle of clinks between all the glasses.

Angel slammed his hands down on the counter, mouth agape.

“What?! Come on! I hit it dead on!” Angel glared at the bottles, then at the jester, the little guy leaning with a smug look behind the counter.

“I dunno what to tell you,” he shrugged, sauntering through the tent and scooping the balls up off the floor. He plopped them back into the basket, before setting it back onto the counter. He smirked.

“But you can try again.”







After fifty bucks had been lost, Angel was irate. He leant back from the counter, rubbing over his eyebrows as he took a breath and tried to calm himself down. Husk gave off a sigh, before nudging at Angel’s side.

“Hey, how about…” Husk fumbled into his pockets, before pushing some spare cash into Angel’s hand. “I saw some funnel cake back there, go grab us some. I’ll meet you over there.”

Angel took the money, grumbling to himself and moping off. Husk waited a few moments, assuring that Angel was out of earshot before he settled himself onto the counter and made eye contact with the jester.

“Alright, bub, look. I get it’s rigged, you know it’s rigged, and that guy really wants that dumb toy up there.” Husk pointed at it, rolling his eyes. “He gave you fifty bucks. Just give me the damn toy.”

The jester looked Husk over, that dumb grin never leaving his face as he approached the counter and leveled himself out opposite the cat. He made some faces, hemming and hawing performatively.

“Mmm… No.” That smirk widened out even more. “You gotta win it. That’s just how it works, you know that. I’ll be glad to let you take a shot, though.”

He put the balls on the counter. Husk, matching that wicked smile, slapped down the cash and stood back up from the counter.

“Suit yourself.” Husk swiped one baseball from the basket. He’d tried to do things the nice way. The little cat took one step back from the counter, gauging things up. His arm reeled back, and the baseball took on a golden sheen as he pitched it down the line.

The throw turned to a yellow-orange streak like a fireball as it wheeled down toward the centermost stack of bottles. It bored straight through them, the stack exploding into splinters of molten glass and leaving a smoldering hole in the back of the tent. The jester, unsurprisingly, started waving his hands in surrender and jumping up and down.

“Fuh-Fine! Point made! Here, you can have your money back!” The tiny demon pushed the cash onto the counter, throwing up his hands afterwards.

“Oh, I don’t want any money,” Husk said, a manic inflection in his voice as he plucked the second baseball from the basket. “I want the big prize.”

His sing-song delivery accompanied another throw, annihilating the left stack. The amber glow of the obliterated glass shined off Husk’s smirk. He took the last ball, tossing it up and down lazily in his hand.

“Criminy, fine, fine! You want this one? Have it!” The jester leapt into the air, yanking the blobfish plush off the rack of prizes and tossing it toward Husk. It rolled, landing at his feet.

Husk let the silence between the two of them hang for a moment, before giving a chuckle, tsk-tsk-tsk’ing with a wag of his finger.

“Now now, that’s not how it works. I didn’t double down, and the last thing I’d want to do is cheat,” he delivered, winding back for a final pitch right at the jester. The demon leapt aside right in time as the ball sailed through the air and destroyed the last stack of bottles, and Husk set the basket back down on the counter with a clatter as he walked back over.

“It’s been a pleasure.” Husk swiped the money up from the counter as the jester stayed cowering on the ground, and scooped the plush up off the ground as he walked away.







Angel was there amidst the food stalls, sulking as he picked at funnel cake. He felt a tap on his shoulders, and turned around to look up at Husk.

“Ugh… You were right,” Angel began, slumping back over and taking another melancholic bite. “Can’t believe I blew fifty bucks on that.”

“Well, as long as you know I’m right,” Husk said, before producing the plush from behind his back and setting it on the table.

Angel nearly squealed as he leapt up, hugging the thing in his arms and looking down in awe at Husk.

“You got it! How’d you knock the bottles over?” Angel asked, unaware of the horrified crowds that had fled from the games alley a few minutes ago.

“Oh… Uh, well, y’know. Can’t reveal all my secrets,” Husk said, scratching behind his neck as he looked off to the side. Angel just kept gushing over the plush, before setting it back onto the table and hugging around Husk.

“Thank you, whiskers,” he said, giving a squeeze around the cat’s shoulders.

“Yeah yeah, get your paws off me,” Husk hissed, swatting a hand lazily at Angel’s chest. “I just didn’t want you coming home empty-handed.”

Angel smirked, holding the hug for just a moment longer before leaning back and looking incredulously at Husk.

“Sure ya did. Well, I feel pretty great, now. Wanna go see a show?” Angel asked. Husk looked up, satisfied in his own work as he saw the smile on Angel’s face. Unfortunately, his eyes also caught the jester from the booth talking to some very burly looking security at the edge of the pavilion.

“Uhh, actually, I feel beat,” Husk said, tugging Angel up from his seat and shoving the blobfish plush into Angel’s hands.

“Oh fine, but we’re coming back tomorrow!” Angel laughed, getting steered from behind as Husk pushed the two of them out of the park. They’d be back.

Probably.