Another scene from Daring Demons by @icannotreadcursive , this one showing Angel and Husk's outfit swap.

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@moonlitwing
Another scene from Daring Demons by @icannotreadcursive , this one showing Angel and Husk's outfit swap.

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Scene from 'Daring Demons' by @icannotreadcursive / Eiiri.
I learned what a train case was for this. (I'd seen them before, I just didn't know the name.) Also, please admire the water jug. I think I captured the translucency really well.
Kaleidoscope
A Hazbin Hotel Fanfic
Three perspectives on that fateful scene in the alley and the immediate aftermath.
Vaggie lets a sinner escape, and is mutilated and cast from Heaven for the sin of empathy.
Lute catches a subordinate in the act of treason, and punishes her accordingly.
David is cornered by an Exorcist, who decides she isn’t done toying with her prey yet.
~
David Augur, like most cannibals, knew what it was like to respawn, so he was not surprised to wake up in the park. He was surprised to wake up on Extermination Day.
He rolled under the bench he had thankfully been next too. It wasn’t much cover – the angels would see him soon – but it might buy him a minute to get all his muscles used to functioning again.
Two days before Extermination, he’d been playing with his sister and their friends in this park. He’d lost their hunting game, and they’d torn him to pieces, already squabbling over who got to eat what. He usually took four days to come back. Extermination should’ve already been over.
Did it change? Were the angels just going to be hunting demons all the time now?
A shadow fell over the bench. One of the angels was diving. David scrambled out of there and ran.
He didn’t know where he was going. Home would be barricaded shut. Everywhere would be barricaded shut. Home might not even exist anymore.
He took a random turn and found himself in a dead-end alley. He curled up and hid his face like that could protect him.
“Go,” the angel hissed at him, taunting. “Run, now.”
Later, he would wonder about that. Later, he would decide the hunt had ended too soon for the angel’s taste, and it wanted to keep playing with him.
In the moment, he ran.
Out of the alley, past another Exorcist. He couldn’t tell how close they were behind him; their wings were too quiet under the screams. Someone else screamed from that alley.
More random turns, and then – the feeling of a snare around his leg. He fell.
Pink light.
“What were you doing outside, young man?” a woman’s voice scolded. “Today of all days!”
“Auntie Rosie!” He threw himself at his Overlord and hugged her around her legs, crying hard. She put one hand on his shoulder and ran the other through his hair. He’d lost his hat somewhere.
“Ssshh … There, there, Auntie Rosie’s got you. I’ve got you.” More gently, “What happened? Why were you outside? And alone?”
She soothed and coaxed the story out of him, petting his hair, plying him with snacks, claws protective on his shoulders as she promised the angels wouldn’t get him. And once the angels went back to Heaven, she walked him home.
~
Lute was alerted to one of her subordinates removing her helmet.
The helmets had layers of tech and enchantment in them. One purpose was to keep track of where the Exorcists were, to ensure a proper sweep of demon territory. Another was to record the Exorcists’ actions and keep track of their kills.
As Lieutenant, she had duties beyond killing any demon who crossed her path. She had to ensure the other Exorcists stayed focused. She flew to investigate, only slowing down to slash a few demons, slicing throats and guts instead of stopping to run them through. The rest were left for her sisters-in-arms.
It was Vaggie’s helmet. One of Adam’s new favourites; the bitch who broke Lute’s record for most demons killed in a single Extermination. (Obviously it was good more demons were dead, but it burned to write commendations for a woman who kept stealing Adam’s attention and didn’t even seem to appreciate it.)
Lute found Vaggie in an alleyway, spear raised, a demon cowering before her.
And then, to Lute’s shock and horror, Vaggie lowered her weapon.
“Go,” she urged it in a whisper. “Run, now.”
It ran. Vaggie didn’t throw her spear through it while its back was turned. She let it go.
She let it go.
Had she been chasing demons out of sight of the other Exorcists so she could claim kills without actually doing her duty?
The fucking traitor! How dare she endanger Heaven this way! Hell’s numbers were already out of control, and who knew how many demons Vaggie let go before Lute caught up to her.
Vaggie turned around and found Lute there. Lute slashed her sword across the traitor’s face, cutting out her eye. She stepped on it for good measure.
“Sinful filth like you has no place in Heaven,” Lute snarled. She pinned her former sister-in-arms under her boot and pulled off the wings that Vaggie no longer deserved. That she maybe had never deserved. She took hold of the traitor’s halo and –
“What the fuck?”
Adam was there. Lute straightened up to attention, yanking Vaggie’s halo off as she did.
Okay, she could admit this maybe looked bad without context.
“She let a demon go.”
Adam’s shocked face became stern.
“Did you get it?”
“… No.” She dropped the desecrated halo to the ground like the trash it was. “I’ll go after it now.”
The angels left.
~
Vaggie had been trying to do the right thing.
Ever since she broke Lute’s record, Adam had been uncomfortably focused on her. She knew her helmet recorded her kills, so she had come up with a brilliant plan to escape his attention.
Take off the helmet after killing a respectable number of demons. Her kill-count would be middling rank, making her record-breaking look like a random lucky day, but she wouldn’t actually endanger Heaven by neglecting her duties.
Hell was louder and smellier without her faceplate’s filters, but fleeing demons still stood out well enough.
She chased one into an alleyway and watched it collapse. She landed, lining up her spear to grant it a quick death.
She looked at its face.
It was child.
A little boy, shaking in mortal terror of her.
Her spear and resolution wavered.
“… Go,” she told him quietly. “Run, now.”
He fled. She turned, so she wouldn’t know which way he’d gone.
That was when Lute struck her.
The next part, in her memories, was both vivid and blurry. Pain. Screaming. Her eye, her wings. Lute’s boot holding her down. Lute saying she didn’t belong in Heaven. She thought she saw Adam.
Lute taking Vaggie’s halo hurt just as badly as her wings and eye, but she couldn’t get the breath to scream again.
And then they were gone. Vaggie was left to bleed.
What … just happened? How had Lute been able to hurt her?
Was Vaggie not an angel anymore?
Was this, Falling?
Time passed, shivering in that alley. Eventually fear cut through the pain; she couldn’t be in an Exorcist uniform if, when, a demon found her.
Vaggie managed to shuck her gloves; her boots; to sit up enough to take her gorget and tunic off. Barefoot, in her tights and undertunic, she used her spear as a walking stick to get to her feet. Shakily, she tossed the uniform into one of the overflowing, stinking trash cans.
Then, her wings, and her halo.
It felt so awful to pick up her wings; to feel feathers under her hands and know they were hers but not be able to feel them on her shoulders.
She threw them in the trash, too, and did her best to stagger away.
She made it to the other end of the alley before she collapsed against the dumpster.
That was where Charlie found her.
Hidden Colours
Exorcist Sugartits, later renamed Snow, found and stole a snowglobe one Extermination Day. She keeps it hidden in her bunk behind a loose board in the ceiling.
Based on [this fic chapter] by Raxaon, on AO3.
Watch out, Niffty's got a chainsaw!
(inspired by Powerpoint Night by SquigglyAverageJoe on AO3)

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Niffty's hair is hard to draw.
Sketch progress and line art:
My brain two days ago: "Alastor and Lute have the same haircut."
That was not quite an accurate assessment. But they both have jaw-length bobs with similar high-low angles at the bottom! So, from the eye-line down, they have approximately the same haircut.
References and line art:
Parallel First Impressions
One of the reasons Vaggie and Angel clashed, in their early days at the hotel, was because Angel Dust reminded Vaggie of Adam, and Vaggie reminded Angel Dust of Valentino.
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Vaggie was trying, okay? She was doing her best to support Charlie's dream, to see what Charlie saw in sinner demons, to believe that they could become better people.
But did the hotel's first guest have to be so much like Adam?
Angel Dust was brash, overconfident, self-obsessed, lazy, crude, profane, had no respect for women, frequently overshared about his sex life, didn't seem to care or even notice if he made someone uncomfortable, and kept saying her name wrong because her frustration was funny to him.
At least this one isn't my boss and doesn't want to fuck me.
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Angel was trying, okay? He was doing his best to play nice, to pay the price the Princess asked of him, to keep this 'free' safe place for him and Fat Nuggets.
But did the Princess' girlfriend have to be so much like Val?
Vaggie was a short-tempered, Spanish-speaking moth demon who frequently threatened him, insulted him, talked down to him, blamed him for shit whether or not it was his fault, and constantly tried to control Angel's behaviour while insisting that he was incapable of change.
At least this one isn't my boss and doesn't want to fuck me.
Real Names
Basic advice for dealing with fairies, demons, and other magical tricksters: never give them your true name, because this will give them power over you.
Husk and Angel Dust have been together for a while, and Angel feels they're ready to take the next step in their relationship: sharing what their names were before they landed in Hell and started going by 'Angel' and 'Husk'. He is caught off-guard by what Husk reveals.
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"Hey, Husk ..."
"Yeah, Angel?"
"We've been together a while now ..."
"I've noticed." The cat demon kissed the spider demon on the nose and readjusted the wing he had draped over the two of them.
"I was thinking, maybe we could tell each other our real names?"
Husk pulled away, just a little, not to reject the idea, but to get a better look at Angel and a better gauge on what he was feeling.
Angel was mostly relaxed. His lower set of hands were fidgeting together a bit, but asking anything about a sinner's life was a pretty big deal down in Hell, and volunteering that information was potentially an even bigger deal.
"Sure," Husk agreed. "Now you've got me curious."
"Ooh, that's dangerous, kitty-kitty." Angel took advantage of the distance to get his top hands up between them and scritch at the fur along Husk's jaw. "My name ... Before I changed it to Angel Dust, my name was Anthony."
"Anthony," repeated Husk. "... Possibly weird question: did you change it to Angel Dust to keep the same first initial?"
"Nah. I just thought it was funny. You know," he gestured vaguely around them, "irony or something, calling myself 'Angel' when I was in Hell."
"Did you ever shorten it to Tony?"
Anthony snorted. "Depended who was around. I was Italian. There were like five other 'Tony's, 'Anthony's, or 'Antonio's in any given room."
"Anthony," Husk said again, slowly. "It's nice."
"Your turn, baby," teased Anthony. "Tell me what name I ought to be screaming in bed."
Husk's ears turned back. "I don't think anyone in the hotel is gonna be comfortable with that."
"... You weren't a 'Charlie', were you?"
"No. My last name was Charles, but my parents weren't the types to saddle a kid with 'Charlie Charles'. My first name ..." He stopped, and cleared his throat. "To be clear, I'm okay with you knowing this, but I don't actually want you to call me this. My name, when I was alive, was Alastor."
Anthony's jaw dropped.
"You and Smiles have the same first name?"
"No," Husk snarled. "Or, well, maybe. I guess that could be how I caught his attention. He usually went after older Overlords." He shook his head. "He took my name along with everything else when I lost my soul. He started using it afterwards to taunt me. Even got Mimzy to call him that, when she's one of the only souls who could say differently."
"Damn."
Neither of them said anything for a while. Then Anthony got a mischievous smile.
"Hey ... The walls here ain't all that soundproof, you know? If your boss were to start hearing me moan what he's been telling people is his name ... think we could get him to give it back, to make me stop?"
That was a terrible plan, but Husk still had to smile back. "He's not a safe guy to blackmail. Probably I'd disappear and we'd never see each other again. It's a nice dream, though ... Anthony."
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I do not actually think this is Husk's former name. I just thought it would be really funny if it was. This started out as just the 'Alastor used to be Husk's name' idea; I came up with the 'surname Charles' part while writing it, after Angel asked if Husk's name in life was 'Charlie' - which would also be awkward for the other hotel residents to hear Angel moaning in his bedroom!
Confelicity
Noun: pleasure in another’s happiness. Charlie overhears a private moment, as Husk helps Angel Dust relax after a stressful day.
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Charlie crossed the hotel’s lobby to the bar. It was late; was Angel back yet? She’d promised not to try and check on him at work again, but she liked knowing he’d returned safely.
Angel wasn’t at the bar. Neither was Husk, surprisingly. Maybe he was taking a break?
She checked the staff break room – empty – and down the hall. Husk’s room was on the ground floor. The door was slightly open, enough to see that the lights were on.
And enough to clearly hear Angel’s voice coming from inside.
“Ooooh, Husk, that feels sooo goooood …”
Charlie pivoted on the spot and went right back to her and Vaggie’s suite, with a skip in her step.
She was going to be great at respecting boundaries this time! Whether those two were dating now or friends with benefits or what, she wouldn’t breathe a word until and unless they were ready to tell people.
~
Angel Dust was melting into a puddle, face down on Husk’s bed, the cat demon straddling his hips and massaging his back. Angel had brought his third set of arms out from wherever they vanished to, so all six shoulders could be rubbed.
“I think this is the best I’ve ever felt when sober and not fucking. Were you a masseuse in life or something?”
“I was a magician,” Husk admitted. “Mostly card tricks.”
“Ah. Magic hands.” He wiggled his hips a little. “Gonna saw me in half next?”
“Pft – hahahaha!”
“I knew I could make you laugh!” Angel giggled as well. Then Husk pressed a little harder on a stubborn knot of muscle, and Angel groaned. “Oh, yeah, right there. Mmm.”
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For my long-time readers: yes I will be circling back around to my Trollhunters and Strange Magic fics eventually. 'Becoming the Mask' and 'Taking the Feisty One' are not abandoned!

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A couple of Owl House memes.
Better Use Of Hawkmoth’s Powers
Because I refuse to believe Miraculous!verse Paris does not have online forums to this effect.
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Nine Things Hawkmoth Could've Done With His Powers Instead Of Becoming A Supervillain, Because Seriously, How Incompetent Does Someone Have To Be To Take 'The Power To Give Other People Superpowers' And End Up The Most Reviled Man In Paris, But Not The Most Famed, Wealthy, And Envied? Clearly He Needs Ideas:
Give superpowers to doctors to let them treat 'impossible' illnesses/injuries.
Give scientists superpowers so they can study inhospitable places like the deep ocean or inside volcanoes first-hand.
Suicide intervention. Someone tries to cut their wrists? Impenetrable skin. Jumping off a building? Flying powers slightly beyond their control make them float down gently. Poison? Immune. Drowning? Guess who just became amphibious.
Disaster relief, helping people escape fires or collapsed buildings and survive waiting for help to reach them.
Start a business of giving people superpowers for an hour and letting them play around in an obstacle course.
Hire himself out to creators of superhero media so they can get live reference material.
Join a theatre troupe as one of their special effects guys.
Mind reading act in a circus or carnival. (He can talk to the akumas telepathically, right? They talk back to him out loud, but it's not like he's actually in earshot. Probably.)
Get some design lessons and take the fashion world by storm with dramatic, literally magical quick-change runway shows.
Witness
Sequel to ‘Motive Speculation’, wherein a citizen of Paris replies to Lila’s interview on the Ladyblog with skepticism. This can be read alone. I wasn’t planning on a continuation but I did get one more idea:
It’s not like Lila got confronted by a superhero in a public park on a nice day when other people might’ve been using said park or anything ...
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Eyewitness:
I saw Ladybug in the park just now. At first I thought there was an akuma and started looking for a hiding spot, but then she went up to these kids on a bench and started yelling at the girl for lying about being her friend. Girl had the same hair as the one in the video. Felt bad for her (more so for the boy with her), but also kinda hope it was the same person – real awkward for Ladybug if she publicly lectured someone who just looks like the person she was mad at.
Seriously? [replying to Eyewitness]:
Seems like an overreaction on Ladybug's part either way
LockNKey [replying to Seriously?]:
"Contents under pressure are liable to explode." With how secret Ladybug keeps her personal life, of course she was going to blow up at anyone claiming to know her out of the mask.
BuddyGuard [replying to Seriously?]:
Maybe it was staged to protect her friend?
Guesstimater [replying to BuddyGuard]:
And/or discourage anyone else from doing this.
Seriously? [replying to Guesstimater]:
Honestly I'd worry about it going the other way and people faking knowing her hoping she'll show up and they can meet her in person
[This thread has been frozen by the Ladyblogger]
Infinity Is A Figure-Eight
SPOILERS FOR RISE OF THE TITANS!
Toby and Jim have been passing the Amulet back and forth between them, time-loop after time-loop, trying to save each other.
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Toby clung to Jim's hand even after it went limp.
"No … please, Jimbo, you gotta wake up. Dr L is gonna be so upset."
"I'm sorry, Tobias." Blinky put all four hands on the Trollhunter's shoulders. "He's gone."
Behind them, AAARRRGGHH bellowed in rage and grief and started throwing things. The Khronisfere bashed into the pileup of cars and rubble Jim was trapped under.
Toby looked down at it. The screen showed him a vision of Jim biking into the canal and stopping by the rubble of Kanjigar's remains. "Come on, Tobes!" he called.
That … that hadn't been what happened. Toby had been alone that afternoon.
The image vanished. Toby finally let go of Jim's hand to pick up the sphere.
"What is this thing even for?! It's supposed to 'make things right', but all it does is – we might as well just have stolen Merlin's time map back in Camelot because it does the exact same thing!"
In sudden fury, he smashed it. It was already half-broken apart from AAARRRGGHH's attack on it; Toby just finished the job.
It would've been better if Jim had been there, when he'd found the Amulet. Jim had always seemed to have a sixth sense for what was going on, the dangers they were about to face. He would've been a way better Trollhunter than Toby.
Toby turned a frangment of green crystal in his hands. There was something about it …
"Tobias, what are you thinking?" said Blinky warily.
"Khronisfere will make right," Toby muttered. He put the crystal into his Amulet. "Only Trollhunter will know."
"Toby –" AAARRRGGHH tried to protest, reaching for him.
His mentors and father figures vanished in a burst of green light, and Toby awoke in his own bedroom. He hurried across the street and –
Jim was there, picking up the trash knocked over by the raccoons. (Or goblins, more likely.)
"We're gonna be late for school, Jimbo," he invented. Every time travel story he'd ever read flashed through his mind. He couldn't let anyone know he was from the future, or it would twist so that he couldn't predict it and keep everyone safe.
"Sorry," said Jim. "I was just busy with the lunches."
In the following months, Toby did his best to stay not-bitter, to be the best sidekick he could be.
Sometimes he slipped – bitterness at Claire seeming to try and replace him (Jim's closeness with her felt different now that Toby wasn't the one busy with Trollhunter duties), resentment when Jim tried to cut him out for his own safety ("I thought since we found it together, we'd always be in this together") – but it was mostly good. He didn't quite recover his closeness to Blinky, but he was closer than ever with AAARRRGGHH.
Then Jim went into the Darklands, alone, trying to rescue Claire's brother, and Toby was sailing uncharted waters.
He knew he had to stay in Arcadia when the trolls left, especially if Claire was leaving with Jim this time around. Somebody needed to help Aja and Krel fend off Morando. He was almost weirdly grateful when that really did end up happening again.
Steve, of all people, ended up going back in time with Claire and Jim and Douxie to Camelot is Toby's place, and Toby could only hope things went more-or-less the same there as they had when Toby, Jim, Claire and Douxie witnessed the First Battle of Killahead Bridge.
Things got predictable again once the Titans became a threat, but Toby was faced with how much he had forgotten between now and before. He forgot the illusion in the roundhouse. He'd forgotten Nomura's death. Strickler died this time, too, but that wasn't something Toby remembered once reminded, so that might have been different. He couldn't find a way for Nari to survive fighting Skrael.
Still, he got to save Jim, this time.
(Up until his realization, seconds before he died, that this meant Jim had the Amulet and the Khronisfere this time around, and was now in the same position Toby had been, of having lost his best friend …)
Overheard in the Cafeteria
Francois-Dupont has more classes than just Mme Bustier’s. Some students from a different class comment in the background as Lila shares stories during lunchtime.
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“Ugh, Lila Rossi’s talking again. That girl is so boring.”
“Boring?”
“Yeah! And it’s that insidious stealthy boring, too. Sure, she’s got all kinds of cool stories to share, but that means she keeps ending up talking about herself, and her classmates enable her and fuel the bad habit because the individual stories are so glamourous. Even if they realize they’re tired of it, nobody wants to be the one to say, ‘okay but can we talk about someone other than you for a while?’ We get it! She’s been everywhere and done everything and met everyone! But can she just for five minutes say ‘that is so cool’ when someone else talks about their plans and accomplishments, without chiming in about how she’s done something like that but better? I know she’s probably trying to participate, not brag, but it still ends up feeling like she’s constantly trying to one-up everybody.”
“This sounds like it’s been building for a while.”
“Yeah ... can we maybe start sitting at a table not so close to that group? I literally did not realize it bugged me this much until about halfway through my own rant.”
“Sure.”
“You’re the best. So, how do you think you did on the science test?”
“Pretty good; I think I at least passed ...”
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Inspired by the fic Marc Being In A Gang Rights, which I found via its TV Tropes page - in Chapter 3, Nathaniel ends up calling Lila annoying since “I've never seen you have a single conversation where the topic is anything except yourself”, (and also because she was lying about being the victim of a recent kidnapping, when Nathaniel had been the actual hostage.)
That particular bit of dialogue gave me this idea, for another fic of “reasons people besides Marinette question Lila's claims, even though they don’t have the inside information Marinette does to confirm Lila is lying and so are willing to give Lila the benefit of the doubt regarding her intentions for making said claims,” to go with my one about people reacting skeptically to Lila’s Ladyblog interview.
#storytelling and conversation are not the same skillsets

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Motive Speculation
A snarky reaction to Lila’s first Ladyblog interview. Alya quickly deleted this comment, but every time she makes another post about Lila, something like it pops up again.
(For anyone wondering, this was not posted by Marinette - I figure lots of people in Paris read this blog to get an idea of what the heroes are up to, and some of them ... question various things that get posted.)
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What kind of moron publicly claims to be a superhero’s best friend? A real best friend of a superhero would be someone the hero could trust to keep their mouth shut! Reply to this comment and vote for what you think is the real story:
a) She’s never met Ladybug and is lying to impress people.
b) Ladybug saved her once, and she read way too much into that and now really does think they’re friends.
c) She wants akumas to come after her so she can meet Ladybug for real.
d) They somehow are friends, this girl’s just got Super Terrible Judgement.
e) This is a poorly-thought-out prank on the Ladyblogger, who fell for it for some reason.
Related to all this, what’s the Ladyblogger’s motive in posting this video?
f) She can’t be bothered to do risk-assessments on what’s a safe story to post. (See: all her attempts to work out Ladybug’s civilian identity.)
g) She hopes Ladybug will confirm or deny the friendship as a ‘clue’ to Ladybug’s civilian identity. (Never mind Ladybug would always say ‘no’, to discourage people from pulling this stuff, and sharing this video might cost the girl that friendship if there really is one.)
h) She’s purposely setting a classmate up as akuma bait so she can get more battle footage.
i) This is a poorly-thought-out prank on the blog viewers.
j) The Ladyblog was created with the intention of gradually building up to a Ladybug-themed LARP for the blogger and her friends, and this is the game-canon’s first big break from reality.
He Was Tall
Marianne’s and Dawn’s respective first sights of the Bog King, to the tune of ‘He Was Tall’ from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. (Song did not make the movie version with Whoopi Goldberg in it, but is on the CD of a different troupe’s production.)
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Marianne
He was tall, very tall, And his eyes were clear and blue. He was broad-shouldered, thin, And his scales a greyish hue. When he strutted across the stage He was like a vengeful god, And everyone else screamed and ran And this was when things got odd. The fireworks were shooting stars; The goblins stole the elves’ guitars; And when he leaned into my space, I drove my fist into his face! Then I was pinned back down against the floor, But somehow felt stronger than before. He was tall, very tall, And his eyes were clear and blue …
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Love-Dusted Dawn
He was tall, very tall, And his eyes were clear and blue. He was slim, very slim, And his wings were narrow too. When he issued commands from his throne, He was like a thing divine, And all the goblins turned their heads, And naturally I turned mine. The chandeliers were spiked with thorns; His chin was, too; his wings were torn; His shoulders were like pinecone scales; My mind was caught by each detail; Then I was floating just above the floor, Feeling fonder than ever before … He was tall, very tall, And his eyes were clear and blue …