#useful to know for blinkie making!

[glittergroovy]

fig. 1 - Anti-aliasing

Semi-transparent pixels along the edges of letterform outlines to smooth jagged edges. Anti-aliasing is usually desirable at large point sizes (16 points or above).

fig. 2 - Rasterization

Converting an image from vector to raster (pixels or dots)

source

[a-lunarcentric-heart]

in which people interact with my stuff that I barely even put effort into (looks at the dividers)

anyways here's a quick "tutorial" (made for PC) on how to make them, because I know you can make better ones than I did:

Open up pixilart

Go to "Blank Canvas" if not already there in the set up screen

Change the width to 520 x 20 (you can use whatever you want, that's just what I used!)

Just create! I would reccemond making the pixel size on the draw tool higher.

Text tool: There is a text tool that you can use, I would say to use size 10 if you want to use it.

GIFs: If you want to create an animation, use the "gif frames" button at the bottom of the screen.

To save/export, press "Save drawing" at the top of the screen, and either save as a .pixil (to work on later) or save as a png/gif (for exporting).

that's it! I'm really bad at explaining so I apoligize if this is hard to read

Examples: [FLASHING LIGHTS/ BLINKING WARNING]

[rebootgrimm]

guys I made a thing :)

if you use it please credit (just my username works fine)

[anothermonikan]

I'm putting way too much effort into this self-intro post like. who is going to look at this even. aughhh

[fibfoolingart]

the lords in black were summoned, but if the lakeside mall was a shorter walk than the high school

i was thinking ab how the lords’ “holding court in their form” seems influenced by being summoned in a high school, and what they might look like if they were summoned in the mall instead.

so instead of jocks and theatre nerds, we get: a mall goth, a food court employee, an unattended sticky child, a mall cop, and an ancient mall walker.

further explanation (semi pete’s pov) of what role they take and the kind of feelings they evoke below the cut:

pokey is a mall goth. but not the kind built on personal freedoms or anti-establishment grit. pokey feels like a mall goth curated by the algorithm, tiktok trends and a thousand-dollar amazon cart. his hair’s professionally dyed, his boots unscuffed. but that’s not really what you notice. it’s the presence he radiates, this quiet, sharpened confidence that only comes from belonging. you’ve never worn black lipstick, never cared for goth music, but still… something about him makes you wish you did. makes you wish you could walk beside him. his blue is familiar (not like richie’s warm teal, staining your fingers in a cramped bathroom) but in a painful way. it’s the blue of dart frogs and stovetop flames. of winter skies so empty and flat they feel like a threat. and when he looks at you, really looks, you’re not just alone. you’re individual. and it hurts.

nibbly is probably the happiest food court worker you’ve ever seen. or maybe he’s just grinning. a grin that stretches too wide, showing every tooth. too wide to be safe. nibbly’s the color of intestines, of pus-pocked acne, of grease shimmering over something bloody. his uniform might’ve started as the same highlighter pink behind every counter, but now it’s muted, aged by years (or eons) of absorbing grease. it almost looks like nibbly himself has been steeped in oil: hair clumped and sticky against his face, his shirt, your food. his visor is dull pink, his eyes cloaked in shadow. he holds a tray out to you. your hands twitch to take it. it feels like you’re supposed to relieve him of it. it’s your order. even if you didn’t place one. even if you don’t know what’s on it. you just… know. and somewhere deep in your stomach, you get the sinking feeling that it’s not the food he wants to eat.

wiggly is a paragon of snotty mall kids. sticky, unsupervised, and terrifyingly confident in the way only children who've never been punished can be. he’s also unmistakably green, crusted around his nose and mouth, fossilized under his fingernails, soaked into his shirt. and he hates you. not in the vague, bratty way. this is something deeper. something personal. every unattended kid in a mall dreams of crushing you like an ant. but when this kid looks at you, you understand that he can. he holds himself with more than reckless confidence. he’s not just sure no one will stop him. he’s sure you can’t.

blinky is a mall cop whose issues with authority transcend the stereotype. he doesn’t resent power, he needs it. he deserves it. He’s compensating for it, breathing down, your neck, keeping constant vigilance. you’ve seen him before. every mall has one. maybe it’s the flickering security cameras blinking orange in the corners. maybe it’s the static whisper of the walkie-talkie on his shoulder. maybe it’s just the way you feel watched before you’ve even walked inside. his sunglasses hide his eyes, but somehow you know. he’s looking at you. you haven’t done anything wrong. not really. but he knows. he knows what you would do. and he’s waiting for it.

tinky is still walking. he’s been walking since the fountain ran. maybe since the mall opened. maybe since before that. his tracksuit used to be tan. now it’s yellow, sickly, rusted, corroded by sweat and time. his skin, his hair, his eyes, everything about him is yellowing, wilting. creased with the dusty, moldy hue of things forgotten in the dark. his walk is slow. wheezing. bones grinding under paper-thin skin. but he doesn’t stop. he never stops. he laps the fountain, again and again. when he looks at you (eyes jaundiced yellow under the cloud of curdled milk cataracts) you feel it. not fear. not pity. recognition. you wonder if this is your future. if this is all that’s left for you. just the suit. the steps. the orbit.

but also their designs might still be the same bc the summoners are still high schoolers, and the lords are just mirroring them lol

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [8] - Diplomacy

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: The first day of work can be stressful.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning.

Word Count: 4381

Series Masterlist

Well.

This was exactly what the first day of school used to feel like.

You couldn’t stop the sigh leaving your lips as you stared up at the Capitol Building, trying to ignore the anxiety churning your stomach. You knew you were supposed to go in, but somehow your legs refused to listen to you, so you exhaled slowly the way your therapist had taught you to get at least some sort of—

“It’s not too late to change your mind.”

You jumped out of your skin, then pressed a hand over your chest and glared at Bucky.

“What did I say about sneaking up on people?”

“In my defense, you looked pretty out of it already.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And as I said; not too late to change your mind. We can still leave.”

“Right,” you said with a laugh. “So we just forget about the Congress and everything and go away?”

He grinned. “Mm hm.”

“Where?”

“Brooklyn.”

You tilted your head. “Except that Brooklyn elected you as their representative, I feel like they’d ask what the hell you’re doing there.”

“You make a good point,” he said and thought for a moment. “Okay, new plan.”

“I’m listening.”

“We get new names and identities, move to a small town where no one knows us, and grow old and gray there in peace. We never check the news, ever.”

Your heart skipped a beat but you tried to focus. “Do we have to change Alpine’s name too?”

“I don’t think she’d let us,” he said, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “She missed you, by the way.”

This was not flirting.

This was just friendly. That was it. Two friends talking.

About running away together.

“I missed her too,” you said. “How does she like your new place?”

“She doesn’t,” he murmured before turning to glance at the building. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?”

“Yes.”

You repressed a laugh and bumped your shoulder against his.

“Come on,” you said as you started walking with him next to you. “Today is your day, and you’re gonna be very busy.”

“Yeah, the schedule was pages long,” he said. “I have meetings with people I don’t even know about.”

“Think of it like your debutante ball,” you told him. “They all want to see if you’re the right fit for them, how much dowry you have, and if they can bed you.”

“Please talk to me about something else.”

“Okay. “You shrugged your shoulders. “Onto some heartwarming news; I told Max to go fuck himself last night.”

Bucky frowned. “Hold on, he’s still calling you?”

“I called him,” you said. “He got the apartment after I prepared my boxes and stuff, and I paid the movers extra so that they would move everything without me being there, but apparently Max went through my boxes even if he refuses to admit it, because Blinky is not in any of them.”

“Who’s Blinky?” He paused for a moment. “Or what is Blinky?”

“Blinky is my childhood plushie,” you said. “It’s a fox plushie with one eye, the other eye fell off on the first day, that’s why I named him that. I took him everywhere I moved, and guess what? Max refuses to give him back.”

“Well, that’s interesting information.”

“I know, right?” you asked as you both walked into the building and held up your IDs to go through the security even if Bucky didn’t need to do that. “He claims he hasn’t seen him, but I’m so sure he hides him somewhere in the apartment.”

“You have a toy?”

“It’s a plushie.”

“It’s a toy.”

“It’s a plushie—you know what, I’m not going to stand in the Capitol hallway to argue semantics about my nostalgic childhood plushie with you,” you said while Bucky grinned at you. “You have one thousand things to do and so do I, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That wiped his grin off his face. “Wait, tomorrow? You’re not gonna be around?”

“I’ll be gone all day.”

His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Birdie, no—”

“I have the orientation, I’ll have to meet everyone and stuff, and apparently there’s this tour… It’ll be chaotic. Kels will be with you though, and Caleb as well.”

“But it wouldn’t take you all day,” Bucky tried to convince you as if you were the one who planned the schedule. “What are they going to do, make you tour the place twice? Just tell them you have stuff to do.”

“This is my stuff to do.”

“So you’re leaving me alone with these people?”

You tried not to laugh at the look of betrayal on his face.

“These people are going to be your colleagues,” you reminded him. “So you need to make friends with them. You don’t need me for that.”

“I do need you for that, actually,” he argued. “I don’t…I don’t make friends.”

“Fine, don’t make friends with them, just be civil. You charmed half of Brooklyn, remember?”

“Because you were there.”

“You’ve been through literally the hardest things anyone can go through—”

“To repeat, none of those things required making friends. Or socializing for that matter.”

“You’ll be fine, and I’ll drop by the office if I can,” you assured him. “But remember. Diplomacy. That’s the currency here.”

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

You took a step to leave, then turned around again to look at him.

“I feel like this goes without saying when it comes to diplomacy, but do not glare at or threaten anyone.”   

Bucky stared at you as if you had just asked him whether Alpine could fly and you pursed your lips, then rolled your shoulders back.

“It’s gonna go great,” you muttered to yourself as you started walking again. “Diplomacy, here we come.”

                                      *

Okay, you expected today to be chaotic, but you did not know it would be this chaotic.

It felt like for the whole day you had been running to one place or the other, and by the time you had found some time to yourself, it was way past lunch time. You had about half an hour until the next item on the schedule so you figured you could drop by Bucky’s office to talk to Kelsey and Caleb and see how Bucky was doing so far.

When you entered the office, most of the team was busy with either their phones or laptops, but Caleb and Kelsey were watching Bucky’s closed door, having a discussion in whispers. You tilted your head, then made your way to them.

 “Is everything okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Caleb asked. “My orientation lasted all day.”

“Mine will too, I just got a break—what is happening?”

Kelsey licked her lips. “Guess who asked for a last minute meeting with Bucky.”

“Who?”

“Amos Drexel.”

Your stomach dropped and you gawked at her. “Sorry?”

“I think you guys are the only people who know this person.”

 “I’ve been memorizing everyone’s faces and names and titles since the election night,” she said. “And trust me, people know who he is. People in high places, if you know what I mean.”

“Kels, he’s just a consultant.”

Kelsey scoffed. “He’s not just a consultant, Caleb.”

“A lobbyist.”

“Lobbyists come and go, this guy has been bribing and extorting the politicians for like, decades. He has half of them in his pocket.”

“I feel like I would’ve heard about him,” Caleb said and Kelsey shook her head.

“He’s too smart for that,” she said. “It’s easier for him if the public thinks he’s just a consultant. But trust me, every single politician here knows about him.”

“What is he doing here?” you asked, your heartbeat getting faster as you stole a look at the closed door. “I checked Bucky’s schedule this morning, he wasn’t there.”

“As I said, last minute meeting,” Kelsey said. “What was I supposed to do when Drexel wanted to see him, ask him to reschedule? I squeezed him in.”

“If he tries to bribe Bucky, I feel like he might kill him.”

“Obviously but that’s not the point,” Kelsey said while you grabbed her penholder so that you could do something with your hands. “The point is, if Drexel is here, it means he wants to—”

You dropped the penholder as soon as the door opened, and you ducked under the desk to gather the pencils as he passed by the desk.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barnes.” You heard him say as he walked out of the door and you put all the pens into the holder, then got up from under the desk, letting out a breath.

Bucky looked absolutely furious as he glared in the direction he had disappeared into before his eyes found yours, his gaze softening in a second. You gave him a tightlipped smile and put the holder on the desk—

And the rest of the room turned to the door again.

“Almost forgot.” His voice reached your ears, making your whole body tense up. “Honey? Your mom wants to know if you’re free for dinner next weekend.”

Oh.

Oh he had planned this.

Of course he did. He knew every schedule in this goddamn place, and he knew the moment you had a break, you’d come straight to Bucky’s office.

You forced yourself to ignore the whole team and Bucky staring at you, your cheeks burning in humiliation as you turned around to glare at your father who was standing by the door with a calm smile on his face.

“Make sure to text her please,” he told you. “Have a great first day.”

Then he walked away, leaving the whole office in a stunned silence.

You could feel the tears of frustration burning the back of your eyes but this was neither the time nor the place. You blinked a couple of times, clenching your jaw and then made a beeline into Bucky’s office with Caleb and Kelsey rushing after you. Kelsey closed the door behind her and you licked your lips, taking a deep breath.

“I can explain that—”

“He’s your father?” Caleb asked and you cleared your throat.

“Well…”

“Why is your surname different?”

“How is he your father?” Caleb and Kelsey asked at the same time and you cleared your throat.

“I’ve been asking the same question to my mother for ages now.” You tried to joke as you stole a look at Bucky who was just watching you with an unreadable look on his face.

“Your father is Amos Drexel and you still have roommates?” Kelsey asked, motioning at herself and Caleb, and you shook your head fervently.

“I’m broke.”

Caleb scoffed. “Oh come on—”

“No, I am.” You pulled your phone out to open up your bank app, then showed the screen to them. “See? Totally broke.”

That seemed to have snapped Bucky out of the haze he was in. “Wait, you need money?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head fervently. “No I don’t.”

Caleb stared at your phone screen. “How is that even possible?”

“I got myself a separate bank account when I was eighteen,” you said. “I wouldn’t touch his money with a gun to my head, I know where it comes from. And before you ask, I won’t touch it when he dies either, it will go straight to charity.”

“And he’s okay with that?”

“Not at all but he ignores it, just like he ignores how I’ve been begging him to disown me for years,” you said and turned to Bucky. “Please say something.”

Bucky just held your gaze for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“Your surname is different?”

“I changed it to my mother’s maiden name the day I turned eighteen,” you said. “You should’ve seen the paperwork.”

Bucky pointed at the door. “Birdie, I just told your father to go to hell.”

“You—” Kelsey’s eyes widened. “You told him to go to hell?”

“With different words.”

“What words?”

Bucky raised his brows, then motioned at her and you. “You two are here, I can’t exactly say what I said.”

“Bucky how many times must we tell you that people can curse around—” Caleb started but Kelsey cut him off, throwing her head back to look up at the ceiling like she was asking for help.

“Jesus, we’re not gonna last a term.”

“Would he assassinate him?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No one is going to assassinate me, Caleb.”

“Hypothetically, would it even count as assassination if he killed you?”

“No.”

“I was going to say who died and left you in charge of assassinations, but I think everyone in this room knows the answer—”

“Bucky, I don’t think you understand,” Kelsey insisted. “Let’s say you’re Aragorn, this guy is Sauron!”

You made a face.

“He’s not Sauron, his power does have a limit.” You paused for a moment. “He’s Saruman at best.”

“Thanks, that makes it so much better—”

“Can we have the room?” Bucky cut her off and Kelsey and Caleb exchanged glances, then left the office. You could feel the anxiety churning your stomach but you swallowed thickly, keeping your eyes on him.

“Bucky…”

“Why not tell me?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Would you have hired me?”

He frowned. “Of course I would.”

“And how would that go? Here’s my resume, oh by the way, my father bribes and extorts politicians for a living?” you asked. “See, I don’t think you would.”

“So your solution was to keep it a secret? Even after we—” He stopped himself. “Even after we started working together?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I couldn’t just tell you,” you said. “Listen, I wanted to work in politics, and…”

“And you could’ve easily got a job here,�� Bucky told you. “You didn’t have to wait until I got elected.”

“Do you think that’s why I’m doing this?” you asked. “Bucky, I don’t want to work for a politician who is only gonna hire me because of my father, he stands for the opposite of everything I believe in—”

“And it’s been like that from the beginning?” he asked, making you pull back. “From the first minute we started working together?”

When the realization crashed down on you, it tightened your throat like a fist.

“You don’t believe me,” you muttered, biting inside your cheek and he let out a breath.

“Birdie, listen—”

“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “The next time you accuse me of working for my father, or—or having anything to do with his corruption, I will walk away, Bucky. I’ll pick one of the many job offers being thrown at me from someone who’s not in my father’s pocket -surprisingly, there are still some of those- and I’ll go and work for them. So I guess the question you should be asking is, do you really want that to happen?”

With that, you stormed out of the office and made your way to the stairs without sparing anyone a glance, your heart still pounding in your chest.

                                                 *

Well needless to say, as far as first days went, that one was not so good.

You had gone straight home after work without dropping by Bucky’s office again. Caleb came home an hour after you, and Kelsey was the last one to arrive, and they had a lot of questions.

At least they had both brought booze and snacks.

And now, way past midnight, all of you were sitting on the floor, still drinking and snacking but the air felt much lighter.

“I just want to say, Birdie,” Caleb said. “Even if your father is a demon sent from hell to bribe politicians, we love you.”

“Aw, thanks Caleb.”

“Can I also point out that,” Kelsey said, reaching for some chips, “it sure is weird that we have a TV, a fucking gramophone—”

“No badmouthing my gramophone, Kels.”

“But we don’t have a couch?”

“We’ll buy a couch,” you said, throwing a piece of chocolate in air to catch it with your mouth. “Like, next month. When we can afford it.”

“Maybe we should let your father know his daughter doesn’t have a couch, so that he can send us a gold one.”

You shot her a look and she grinned.

“These jokes will continue, just so you know.”

“I know, I know…” you muttered and pointed at the TV. “Swipe left.”

“No, swipe right!” Caleb told Kelsey who tilted her head, still holding her thumb over her phone screen. You had connected her phone to the TV and for over an hour you were going over the ‘options��� for her as Caleb had put it, and even though you’d had doubts at first, this turned out to be much more fun than watching political news.

“I mean he does give off fuckboy vibes, Caleb.”

“I don’t give a shit, he has a dog,” Caleb said. “One of us has to find someone with a dog. Birdie already has Bucky, who has an asshole cat—”

“I don’t have Bucky, and Alpine is a pretty princess.”

“And I’m a dog person,” Caleb said, pointing at the picture on the screen. “Maybe he’ll bring over his dog.”

“You make a good point,” Kelsey said as she swiped right, and all of you made a face at the next picture on the screen.

“Left!”

“Do you guys think I’ll have to work for someone else?”

“I think Bucky would rather resign himself than fire you,” Kelsey stated and Caleb nodded, taking a fistful of jellybeans into his palm.

“She’s right,” he said. “Do you want the green ones?”

“Yes please,” you said and held out your hand so that he could put the green jellybeans in your palm, and you popped them in your mouth. “And if he doesn’t trust me anymore?”

“That’s why he looked like a kicked puppy when I told Kels you were already home within his earshot?”

You let out a whine and downed your drink. “It’s gonna be so weird when I see him tomorrow.”

“Just pretend nothing happened,” Kelsey said, making Caleb scoff.  

“I’m sure it’s a very healthy approach to disagreements in a relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship,” you said sulkily as the roar of a motorcycle outside reached the apartment. “He’s in a relationship with Hazel fucking—swipe right on this one Kels—Brooks.”

“Who hates your guts because she knows Bucky likes you.”

“Right,” you said with a laugh. “Because Bucky would ever leave his hot, successful, billionaire girlfriend —who is, if I may repeat, super hot— to be with me.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

You flailed your arms. “We don’t even have a damn couch, Kels!”

“Then he fucks you on the floor, who cares?” Caleb exclaimed as he poured more wine into your glass, and your phone buzzed on the floor. You picked it up, sitting up straighter the moment you saw the text.

From: Winter Is Coming

Hey. Are you awake?

“What the…” you muttered and turned the screen to Caleb and Kelsey so that they could read the text. “Is this a ‘you up’ text? Is Bucky sending me a you up text?”

“The man has to google half of the things I text him, but he’s sending you a you up text, sure.” Kelsey scoffed a laugh. “See, told you things would work out. That’s gonna be an apology text, text him back.”

You sent a quick yes, your heartbeat getting faster as Caleb grinned.

“He’s so lying in bed thinking about you, aw!”

“He’s not doing that— ” You started but you were cut off when your phone buzzed in your hand.

Do you mind stepping outside for a minute?

“Holy shit!”

“Caleb, stop shouting!”

“He’s here?!”

“Oh my God, oh my God…” You jumped on your feet, fanning yourself. “What do I do?”

“Well, you calm down,” Kelsey said, getting up as well. “And you go outside.”

“How do I look?”

“You look great.” Kelsey pulled your top down a little and wiggled her brows. “For good luck.”

You took a deep breath, fixed your hair, and rushed out of the apartment to make your way downstairs, then you stepped out of the building to find him leaning against his motorcycle. 

Goddamn it.

You were supposed to be angry at him, but somehow the butterflies in your stomach refused to listen to you.

“To repeat,” you said as you walked down the stairs and approached him. “I have a doorbell.”

“It’s 2 a.m.” Bucky replied, his eyes fixed on you, making your heart skip a beat. “I figured Caleb and Kelsey would be asleep.”

“Nope, we’re picking guys for Kelsey,” you said. “So what brings you here?”

Bucky paused for a moment and licked his lips.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “About today…”

“Listen, I know you’re gonna say I should’ve told you but you need to understand—”

“I’m sorry.”

That made you stop talking and your eyes snapped up to his, a confused frown pulling your brows together. Bucky gave you an apologetic smile and cleared his throat as if he was willing to get the words out.

“I don’t like it when people hide things from me, and I…” He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes from yours for a moment. “I trust you a lot, so when you—”

You shook your head fervently. “Bucky, I would never betray your trust.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” you insisted. “Because I need you to know that. I would never go behind your back and do anything to—to hurt you in any way.”

That soft light appeared in his blue eyes. “I know.”

“It’s just not who I am.”

“I know, Birdie.”

You bit inside your cheek.

“And I’m sorry too,” you muttered, pressing your palms on your eyes for a moment before dropping your hands. “I swear, something evil comes out of me whenever someone so much as mentions me being anything like him. Especially when I spent years trying to prove that I’m not.”

“I get that.”

You looked down, shifting your weight from one foot to other, then raised your head to smile up at him.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked. “You can help us pick guys for Kels, and there’s wine and snacks.”

“Tempting offer,” he said. “But I’m actually here to drop something off.”

You frowned as he reached into the box behind his motorcycle. “What? I’m pretty sure I got all the files—”

You stopped talking the moment you saw what he pulled out of the box, a gasp leaving your lips and your hands shooting up to your mouth.

Blinky.

He held out the worn out plushie for you and you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before you reached out to take it.

“Wh—how?”

“It was on my way.”

You pulled your brows together, looking down at the fox plushie before raising your glances again.

“My old apartment, which is in New York,” you said slowly, “was on your way to your home, which is in DC.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a mischievous smile.

“Well okay, it wasn’t,” he admitted. “I just got back to the city, that’s why I texted you at this hour.”

You could feel your heart melting in your chest. “You went all the way to New York to get my childhood plushie back?”

“I still think that counts as a toy,” he pointed out as if it was crucial information. “But you said it was important to you, so…”

Don’t kiss him.

You can’t kiss him. He’s your boss, he has a girlfriend, he does not see you that way, do not kiss him.

“And if anything, I’d been wanting to talk to Max for a while now, so the toy was basically just an excuse.”

“It a plushie—” You changed directions mid-sentence. “What do you mean you talked to Max?”

The look on his face was too innocent. “We just had a conversation, that’s all.”

“About?”

“About him not making anything difficult for you. Or something along those lines.”   

The warmth swirled in the pit of your stomach, making you feel lightheaded as you beamed at him, a giggle climbing your chest.

“Bucky.” You breathed out. “I don’t know what to say...”

“Oh it’s nothing, really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you said. “It’s—it’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

That made his head snap up, his eyes searching yours while a proud smile pulled at his lips like your praise meant the world to him. It could’ve been funny if you weren’t trying so hard to control yourself from kissing him; the deadliest assassin in the world, the infamous Bucky Barnes who barely smiled at anyone, who could strike fear in anyone’s hearts with a mere glare, now had the same expression of an excited puppy who was given a treat.

His throat bobbed and he blinked a couple of times like he was trying to pull himself together, then gestured at his motorcycle. “I uh, I should go.”

You were painfully aware that you were pouting. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said. “And hey, I’m sure you’re needed inside too. Can’t have Kelsey choose the wrong guy.”

You huffed out a laugh, hugging a plushie to your stomach and nodded.

“See you tomorrow,” you said quietly and took a couple of steps but then turned around to look at him.

“And…” You cleared your throat, your heart pacing in your chest. “Thank you. It means more than you know.”

His voice was soft: “Good night Birdie.”

He waited until you were in the building to ride away and you pressed a hand over your chest before climbing the stairs to enter your apartment.

“Hey,” Kelsey said. “How did it—is that a plushie?”

“Bucky got you a plushie?” Caleb asked, confusion clear in his tone and you looked down at the plushie, then back at them.

“Guys, we have a problem,” you rasped out, your voice weak even to your own ears. “I think I’m actually falling for him.”

Chapter 9

[spr1ngpvrinbwunnie]

In what ways can we annoy 👁️ 📺 the doctor once he's comfortable having us around?

Since he's always watching us and his minions loves us more than him, I think it's only fair that he receives our rebellious bratty affections too

For science of course ✨

Oh, absolutely. If The Doctor is going to haunt every screen, command an army of little gremlins, and act like a smug, untouchable mastermind, then it’s only fair that we annoy the hell out of him in return. After all, what’s the point of being his “favorite” if we don’t make him suffer a little?

So, for science, here are some of the best ways to mess with The Doctor once he’s comfortable having you around:

1. Name His Minions Stupid Things

The Critters? You nickname them like they're Pokémon.

“This one’s Greg. That one? Mr. Chompers. Oh, and this little guy? He's my emotional support nightmare.”

The robotic bodies? You give them absurd names based on their appearance.

“Hey, Steve! Get over here!”

The Doctor: “They are NOT named—”

“Shhh, Steve is speaking.”

Bonus: If you call one of his bodies “Blinky” because of the eye on the screen, he will stop talking to you for an hour out of pure spite.

2. Purposely Misquote Him

Any time he says something intimidating, twist his words into something embarrassing.

The Doctor: “You cannot escape my sight.”

You: “Aww, so you admit you’re obsessed with me?”

The Doctor: “THAT IS NOT—”

Bonus: Do it in front of his minions so they start believing it.

3. Stare Directly Into the Nearest Camera and Make Awkward Eye Contact

Since he’s always watching, just… stare.

Don’t blink.

The Doctor: “What are you doing?”

You: “Just making sure you’re still there, buddy.”

Extra points if you slowly inch closer to the camera like a horror movie character.

Even MORE points if you whisper:

“Can you feel me staring into your soul?”

“Boo.”

"Guess what? I unplugged that camera. You're talking to NOTHING right now."

4. Draw Silly Faces on His Screens

If there’s a dusty screen, draw a dumb face on it.

If he possesses a monitor, immediately draw a mustache on it.

The Doctor: “Remove that atrocity immediately.”

You: “Sorry, can’t hear you over how handsome you look with this curly mustache.”

5. Pretend You Can't Hear Him When He's Talking Through a Bad Speaker

If his voice glitches out or sounds weird over an old speaker, pretend you can’t understand.

The Doctor: “—ou under—tand me?”

You: “What? I think you said something about spaghetti?”

The Doctor: “No, I sa—”

You: “Did you just ask me to unplug you? Got it.”

The Doctor: “CEASE.”

6. Replace His Intimidating Dialogue With Cutesy Nicknames

The Doctor: “You are mine.”

You: “Okay, possessive much, Snugglebug?”

The Doctor: “…WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?”

You: “I said, ‘Okay, Professor Cuddles, chill.’”

7. Hug His Minions Right in Front of Him

The Nightmare Critters already love you. Show them extra affection just to rub it in.

Hug one of the robotic bodies and go, “Wow, you’re so much nicer than your creator.”

The Doctor: “…Excuse me?”

You: “Shhh. Steve is my best friend now.”

Bonus: If you pet Yarnaby like a cat, it will immediately vibrate aggressively in approval.

8. Keep Saying “What’s the Magic Word?”

Any time he orders you to do something, act like a strict kindergarten teacher.

The Doctor: “Move to the next room.”

You: “What’s the magic word?”

The Doctor: “…Obey.”

You: “Nope, try again.”

Extra chaos: Make him say “please” in the most reluctant, soul-crushing tone possible.

9. Randomly Poke the Nearest Camera

Whenever you pass a camera, just boop it.

The Doctor: “…Stop that.”

Boop.

The Doctor: “I said STOP.”

Boop.

(He eventually shuts the camera off just to make you stop.)

10. Throw Something at One of His Bodies and Blame it on the Minions

You: [chucks a random item at his robot body]

The Doctor: “What was that?”

You: “Uh… Yarnaby did it.”

The Doctor: “That is the least believable lie I have ever heard.”

Yarnaby: [Vibrates aggressively, confirming guilt.]

11. Walk Into a Room and Say “I Know What You Did” Without Any Context

Doesn’t matter what he’s actually doing. Just say it.

The Doctor: “…”

You: “Yeah. I saw that.”

The Doctor: “…Elaborate.”

You: “You know what you did.”

Bonus: Do this while looking directly at a camera, then leave the room without another word.

12. Pretend You Found His “Secret Diary”

You: “So, I found your diary.”

The Doctor: “I do not KEEP a diary.”

You: “Really? Then who wrote ‘Dear Diary, today my minions ignored me in favor of my human and I felt deeply betrayed’?”

The Doctor: “…You INSOLENT—”

13. Leave Sticky Notes on His Screens with Passive-Aggressive Messages

“Your eye looks extra evil today. Good job!”

“Blink once if you have emotions.”

“Reminder: Stop being ominous for five minutes challenge (failed).”

“If you kill me, who will annoy you?”

14. Mess With His Voice Recordings

If he ever leaves an audio log, alter it.

Edit his voice so he sounds adorably squeaky.

The Doctor: “WHO DID THIS?!”

You: “Oh wow, your voice sounds SO CUTE. You should keep it.”

15. Summon Him Like a Ghost

Stand in a dark hallway.

Look into a broken screen.

Say “Doctor, Doctor, Doctor” like it’s Bloody Mary.

The nearest screen flickers to life.

The Doctor: “WHAT are you DOING.”

You: “Summoning you.”

The Doctor: “…I hate you.”

[y1ling-laozu]

Trollhunter Claire except there is a misunderstanding and the antagonists still think Jim is the trollhunter

•

Strickler, after seeing the amulet on Jim’s bag: 😨

Jim who retrieved the amulet from the teacher's office after coach Lawrence took it from Claire during P.E. because he wants an excuse to talk to his crush: Bye Mr. Strickler 😊

•

Bular, seeing Claire in armor and being confused for 0.2 seconds because he was told that the trollhunter was a boy and that looks like a girl but also humans are weird and he can't bring himself to care about them and their gender:

Bular: JIM LAKE JUNIOR

Claire being so confused about this BEAST suddenly yelling what she's pretty sure is the name of one of her classmates that she forgets to keep running for her life: Huh??

Blinky: young lady Claire, if you care about your life even one bit, PLEASE KEEP RUNNING

•

Claire being smart and hiding her face while breaking into the museum so that nobody is able to see her, so no one knows that she's the trollhunter yet.

Nomura, finally getting away from the goblins and immediately seeing Jim and Toby walking on the street: THIEVES!!!!!

Jim and Toby: Where? 😮

Jim and Toby:

Jim and Toby: US???

(They still get the police called on them and Jim gets grounded because Barbara thinks that not only did he break the law, he is also lying to her face)

•

Claire after confirming for 13735468656th time that Jim isn’t a changeling: Why does Bular know his name???

•

NotEnrique, seeing Claire with the amulet, knowing damn well that's not fucking Jim Lake jr: Well, that’s going to be a problem.

NotEnrique: Not mine to deal with though, I wonder how long it will take them to realize that she is the trollhunter.

•

Jim: *sigh* another dull birthday.

-15 minutes later-

The Stalkling:

Jim: WHAT THE FUCK IS THATTTT????

•

Claire after Bular called her young Atlas, knowing that Strickler calls Jim that, and now realizing that A. Strickler is a changeling and B. They think Jim is the trollhunter: 😧

Bular, who still thinks this is Jim Lake jr, assuming that her reaction was only the realization of Strickler being a changeling: nailed it.

•

Strickler: I know.

Jim: You know what...?

Strickler: I know you know.

Jim: What??

Strickler: You didn't know I knew, but now you know. I know.

Jim: ???

•

Jim: Mom I don't like him, you should stop seeing him, he freaks me out.

Barbara turning and walking away: Jim I really expected better from you, I'm disappointed.

Jim: Mom he was mean to me every time you left the table 🙁

Barbara immediately turning back to Jim: he was WHAT

•

Strickler, after Barbara almost fought him, threatened to take his spleen?? And made him apologize to Jim for making him feel threatened: Well played trollhunter, well played...

Jim: Hm?

Strickler: Nothing, Young Atlas, nothing at all...

Jim: Okay...

•

I just think it would be really funny (read: devastating) if Jim always suffered because of the trollhunter mantle even when he has NOTHING to do with it 😭

Also Claire is a very protective character, so realizing that someone else has been getting hurt because of something related to her would be devastating for her

What do you mean Jim has been getting hurt because people thought he was Claire? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HER AMAZING SWEET ROMEO ALMOST DIED DURING HIS BIRTHDAY BECAUSE SOMEONE SENT HIM A STALKLING THINKING HE WAS CLAIRE???

I think it would actually break her heart with guilt, especially after realizing she has feelings for him

[cornfieldsrambles]

YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO INFODUMP PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT WIGGLY'S SIBLINGS???? THAT HE APPARENTLY HAS????

omg ok SO

Meet the Lords in Black. Charming, aren't they?

Yes, Wiggly does indeed have four brothers who all do different things, so I'll cover them one by one, in order of introduction (since we've already met each of them in Nightmare Time at least once). BTW Nightmare Time has a fuckton of lore in it that I won't go into here, so even though I am about to spoil significant parts of it for you, I do recommend watching it, it's really good and if there's enough interest they might make a third one!

(Also you might notice they're all in doll form in this picture. This is how we knew them up until NPMD introduced us to what I call their Tumblr sexyman forms. Which are rad as hell by the way.)

So you already know Wiggly. That little green fucker, Wiggog Y'Wrath, the Capitalist Cthulu who does uwu-speak and starts a cult by invading people's minds. This will become a bit of a reoccurring theme with these guys. He's also the only one to successfully start an apocalypse, and the only one to have attempted to birth himself into our reality. (Or is he? We'll get to that...) He does seem to have some kind of dominion over the other LiB, as whenever all five of them show up there's always emphasis placed on him, like in NPMD where he does most of the talking while his siblings occasionally butt in.

Now for Bliklotep. Blinky seems to have slightly lower-scale ambitions than Wiggly, but don't let that fool you. Eyeball Boi is still incredibly dangerous. He runs an amusement park, WatcherWorld, deep within the Hatchetfield Witchwood. But it's not for the amusement of the patrons. Oh no. It's for Blinky's own amusement. Once you step inside, every insecurity, every shred of potential conflict will be ripped to the forefront, turning people against each other to the point of trying to kill each other until he's fully infected their minds. It's implied that, if not all, but a significant chunk of the workers at WatcherWorld were once patrons before having their minds taken over by Blinky. He's also implied to be the thing in Trail To Oregon that Jack Bauer sees during his venom-induced hallucination, as Blinky is referred to as "The Watcher With 1,000 Eyes", which is exactly what JB says he sees? Making Blinky the only LiB to induce a Starkid crossover. My headcanon is that the Dikrats founded Hatchetfield. But regardless.

Next up on the roster is Tinky. T'noy Karaxis, the Time Bastard. You may be wondering about that one line in NPMD where he recognised Pete as a Spankoffski, and said he "could have the whole set in his toybox". Has Tinky gone after Pete's relatives?

Well. Um. You know Ted, right? Yeah, his name is Spankoffski. He's Pete's big brother. We actually got the surname reveal before the brother reveal, lol. And that's not the only reveal we got about Ted. Our boy Teddy Bear has this whole entire tragic backstory and it turns out he gets fucked over in literally every timeline! Isn't that fun?

So, to summarise an entire episode: Tinky makes travel fuckery happen, Ted wants to go back in time to fix his life, accidentally goes back to before the time machine was created and gets stuck in the past, literally. Tinky is watching and laughing at the whole thing, then shows up to blow Ted's brain to smithereens with his weird little magic box, the Bastard's Box, where he stores all the people he toys with. Anyway Ted eventually catches up with the present by aging, except now no one knows who he is, he's... actually I won't spoil that. But once he dies he ends up eternally trapped and tortured in the Bastard's Box. Yaaay.

Fast forward to Nightmare Time 2 and we get introduced to Nibbly, in possibly the most unexpected way imaginable. He's revealed to have been behind a whole episode literally right at the end of said episode, and even though it was kind of foreshadowed, it hits you like a freight train in the best way. Remember when I said Wiggly was the only one who tried to birth himself into reality? That was kind of a lie. Nibblenephim can sort of do that anyway. Every year, he can possess a bunch of carcasses and create a living form to walk the earth for one night. He also has a cult of followers who provide him with the carcasses, as well as a sacrifice to feed on. There's a little more to it, specifically with how the sacrifice is chosen, but again, I'm trying to spoil as little as possible. Go watch Nightmare Time. Nibbly also seems to have a "pig" motif, and his theme song, The Nibbly Ditty, is a banger, easily my favourite of the three LiB theme songs we've heard so far.

And finally, we are introduced to Pokotho, in the very last episode of NMT2.

Except no. We were formally introduced to Pokey there, yes, but we've seen his apocalypse already. Long before NPMD, before Nightmare Time, even before Black Friday.

Yeah, remember me saying that Wiggly was the only one to successfully start an apocalypse? That was also a lie! Pokey already did that, and he did it without ever showing his masked face. Remember The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals? The blue spores that came down in a meteor and turned everyone into singing zombies? That was Pokey's doing! That's his blue spores! That's his apocalypse!

This also provides an explanation for why blowing up the meteor didn't work. Emma and Hidgens were right about the hivemind thing, but wrong about the location of the central brain. It wasn't the meteor - the meteor was just the vessel which carried the spores to Earth. The central brain was sitting safely up in the Black and White, laughing as Paul blew himself to smithereens. The central brain was Pokey, the Singular Voice, the most uncompromising of his brothers. The one who hates every voice that is not his own, hence the hivemind and making all of his zombies speak in HIS voice.

Anyway in NMT2 he's happily collecting musical zombies by taking on a human form and infiltrating a fighting ring of superpowered children until he has enough to kickstart another apocalypse. (Don't question it, we're almost done). He also calls himself Otho, not Pokey, making him the only LiB to have two different abbreviations of his name. Hannah is also there (remember her? Lex's little sister?) and she is like incredibly important to this whole thing, she has a super powerful mind, but that's a whole other thing.

But I did mention Hannah for a reason. Because you said "Wiggly's SIBLINGS". And while the Lords in Black are always referred to as brothers, they do have one more sibling. A sister. A Queen in White. And her name is Webby.

Yep, Hannah's imaginary friend isn't imaginary, who could have guessed? She's benevolent, always trying her best to combat her brothers' antics, but given that there's one of her and five of them, this is a bit of an uphill battle. Webby doesn't have a full name that we know of, nor does she have a doll. We don't know much about her. And she may not be all-powerful - but then again, neither are her brothers.

Infodump concluded. Hope this helps, it was very fun to write.

[uvobreakmylegs]

We'll Never Know the Place

title is from a Fever the Ghost song that felt appropriate for this piece

Part 2 (Phinks x reader)

Chrollo x Cute Hunter!reader

Warnings: death, torture, gore, body horror, mentions of captivity, implied kidnapping

Word Count: 7.9k

“You don't need me for this.”

Chrollo paused in his step, taking a moment to glance over his shoulder as he looked back at you. Feitan halted as well, having been making his way out of the room, and you felt the way he watched you, his expression no doubt turning to one of concern and displeasure at the fact that you were already kicking up a fuss.

Despite having both of these particular men staring at you, you didn't meet the gaze of either; your attention was on focused solely on the unknown male in the chair that sat in the center of the room.

He was slumped forward, his short, dirty blonde hair covering his face somewhat while the blood that had dripped down from his neck stained the bare skin of his torso. It had gone on to soak into the material of his pants before it ultimately created a puddle on the seat of the chair beneath him and dripped off the edge as it continued to pool below. He was only able to lean forward to a certain extent as his wrists were firmly secured to the arms of the chair by way of two pieces of thick rope that kept him firmly attached and thoroughly unable to get away from whatever he had been put through. Which had undoubtedly been a lot, based on what you had heard before and from what you could see now. There were several fingers missing on both of his hands, you noted, as well as something that was off with the skin of his left bicep that appeared to be blackened. A glance at his legs revealed that one of them had been broken severely as it was bruised and bent beyond belief.

There was more damage – there was always more damage with the things Feitan did to people – and while you didn't want to know what it was, the things you could smell clued you in to what he had done to this man. A distinct burning smell, combined with an odor so foul that it made you want to vomit.

The man was dead. Obviously, as you wouldn't have been brought in otherwise.

You had known this was coming, too. After hours of hearing him scream and cry and beg for the pain to cease, you knew what would be happening once Feitan stepped into the main room where the troupe was gathered and whispered something into Chrollo's ear. That had been followed by a quick nod of acknowledgment by Chrollo before he ordered the torturer to end the man's life. You knew that, not long after, the head of the troupe would stand and tell you to follow.

You knew what he expected from you, and there was absolutely no part of you that wanted to go through with it.

“You don't need me for this,” you repeated.

Chrollo stared at you over the fine white fur that lined his coat, his gaze unyielding and his presence as oppressive as ever.

Then he spoke your name, his tone stern.

“I would have thought by now that you knew how useless of an effort it is to try and get out of this,” he continued.

“Insisting on using my ability is stupid,” you argued. You stepped backwards despite knowing Feitan was right behind you. He was watching you carefully as well, likely poised to grab you if you made any attempt to run.

You weren't going to do that. But you would argue with Chrollo.

“Shizuku is right outside,” you continued, “Blinky is better suited for this. It'll take literally a second if you have her do it. Just use her and leave me out of it.”

Chrollo observed you silently, his gray eyes watching as you tried to convince him that Shizuku was the better option for what he wanted. Your argument wasn't just a way of a bullshitting to get out of what you didn't want. You knew that you were right. More importantly, he knew you were right.

But those cold eyes remained impassive no matter what you said.

“I brought you here for a reason,” Chrollo told you, “now I need you to do your part.”

His tone was a tad more dangerous that time, and that was enough to put the fear into you as you tore your gaze away and looked to the side, your fists clenching hard enough that the way your nails were digging into your palms was starting to cause you pain.

“….. I don't want to,” you answered.

“That's a shame,” he said.

He then turned so he faced the body of the man as he said “but I'm afraid this is the last chance you'll get to do it of your own volition before I'm forced to make you do so.”

“……”

There was little other choice than to do it before it got to that point, you told yourself. Otherwise he would give that order, and a sharp pain would form in your skull, getting worse and causing you absolute agony until you did as he had told you. Nor would it end there, as your defiance going that far would mean trouble for you once the troupe's business had finished and you were left alone with Chrollo again. You hated the way he was able to control you, but there wasn't anything else you could do. It was a lose-lose situation.

With a frown on your face and your eyes cast downward, you steeled yourself before you began approaching the man's body, your clenched fists shaking ever so slightly as you made your legs walk you forward.

I hate this

You kept your gaze downwards as you walked by Chrollo, keeping your eyes only on what was directly in front of your feet, not wanting to make more eye contact with him than was necessary. A small bit of defiance that did little to affect him, you knew, but it was all you could do.

How childish, you could hear him say in that subtly mocking tone that you were all too familiar with.

I hate you

After a few moments, you heard Feitan's footsteps walking out of the room before growing quieter. He had stayed when you had spoken out, his warning gaze heavy upon you as you had felt him silently urge you to do as Chrollo had said. Now that you were getting down to business, he was gone, having returned to that main room to sit with the others.

He knew what Chrollo was making you do, as did the rest of them.

I hate every last one of you

They were aware of those feelings of yours as well, and for certain members, it bothered them deeply. They didn't like how upset you became with them, nor how emotional you would get when Chrollo put your abilities to work. But no matter how much it bothered those members, all of them were in support of their boss.

None of them would ever come to your aid. All because in their minds, you were the one who was in the wrong.

The burnt odor coming from the man was stronger when you moved closer to him. Once you were standing directly in front of him, you were able to confirm that the darkened mark on his bicep was, in fact, a burn mark. The sight had you biting your lip in disgust as you thought of the agony he had gone through at the unfortunately creative hands of Feitan and the wide variety of pain he had no doubt experienced before his throat was finally slit wide open.

Hopefully with everything else that had happened, that final slicing of flesh wouldn't have been as painful.

Hopefully.

A cursory glance about the room revealed the moderately sized wooden box that Feitan had been using as a table that was stuck in the corner, as his tools were lined up neatly on top of it. Almost all of them were covered in blood. When you narrowed your gaze, you saw bits of flesh that were still stuck to the metal.

Chrollo already knew what you were thinking.

“Take care of whatever is left over of him over there,” he began, “but you're to do nothing that alters Feitan's tools.”

…. Damn. It looked as though that stunt of yours from last time really was a one time only thing, much to your disappointment. But it wasn't that surprising.

If Chrollo was ever to make a mistake, he only made it once.

Turning your attention back to the man's body, you kept your focus on him while Chrollo stood behind you, watching your every move as you prepared to use your nen. Thoughts of what would work best in the environment and how much you needed to alter came to mind, but first….. First was to make him more presentable. To give him at least a little bit of dignity in death. Because at the end of the day, he was a person who had a life, goals and ambitions, all of which had been snuffed out for the sake of whatever it was the troupe was up to now.

Was it possible that he had been just as bad as Chrollo and the others? Or potentially even worse? Yes.

But you still wanted to show some kindness.

You began by undoing the ties around his wrists, and immediately you found that the rope had been wrapped so tightly that the skin in that area was raw and bleeding, some of it even scraped away against the harsh material that bound him. How much had he attempted to break those bindings while Feitan was removing his fingers?

It didn't matter, you told yourself, because you were undoing them now. Once both pieces of rope were untied and laying on the ground beside him, you placed his hands upon his lap which allowed you to hide the stumps of his fingers somewhat. Though that action caused him to lean too far forward and you were forced to adjust him before he fell over onto the floor. You quickly grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him so he would lean back, and that made his head roll backwards as it followed the pull of gravity.

Now not only did you have a good look at that awful gash in his throat, but also the lifelessness in his unblinking eyes and the way in which his slack jaw hung open.

…. You could fix this. While you couldn't do anything about his throat, you could fix the way his expression looked.

Placing both of your thumbs over his eyelids, you gently pulled them shut. Then, while you kept your thumbs pressed over his eyes, you exerted a tiny bit of your nen that spread over the lids. When you pulled your hands away, his eyes stayed closed. You did the same with his jaw, locking the joints in place so his mouth would no longer hang wide open. When that was done, you stepped away, and the nen you had infused into those places on his face stayed strong. With his face looking like that, it was as though he was sleeping.

Even though that illusion was quickly shattered with one glance towards his throat, that felt better to you.

The other person in the room was clearly of a different opinion.

“You're wasting effort, love. No one who cared for him will know what you did,” Chrollo told you.

You frowned.

“He was a person; he deserves respect, even if it's just this much,” you answered.

“He was a person who existed outside of the troupe,” Chrollo corrected, “therefore he isn't important.”

“Maybe not to you.”

Damn it. Your voice was already starting to crack.

Chrollo noticed that as well and wasted no time in pouncing on your vulnerability.

“You haven't even begun and you're ready to shed tears?” he asked.

“With the things you make me do, what do you expect?” you responded bitterly.

“I expected that you would have grown used to this.”

“Maybe if being involved in this awful shit was something that I actually wanted,” you said, “but I still don't, and I never will.”

He didn't respond that time. Instead, as you were looking at the body of the unknown man and trying to figure out if there was anything else you could do for him, you heard movement coming from behind you as Chrollo walked to the side of the room. What he was doing was obvious when you heard the sounds of chair legs scraping against the concrete floor before they were lifted into the air, and then again moments later, when they were placed a few feet from where you were standing and directly in front of the dead man. An aged chair creaked as Chrollo settled down upon it, and suddenly the full intensity of his gaze was upon you once more.

“Whenever you're ready, love.”

“….”

There was no more stalling to be had, then. Nothing more you could do to put this off. Chrollo probably felt as though he'd been generous in allowing you to take your time and do what he felt were pointless actions in rearranging the man's body. After all, the troupe was still in the middle of a job, and he wanted you to get on with it so they could continue with the current loose end being fully tied up.

If you took any longer he would invoke that pain on you again.

With a deep sigh, you activated your hatsu.

Revival Gardener

In moments, your nen had conjured up your watering can. Moderately sized and brightly colored, it stood out among the gray rock and rotting wood of the abandoned room. The can itself was a pastel yellow and adorned with pink accents, topped off by the two handles that were shaped to resemble cartoonishly cute hearts. It was very likely that if there was ever a magical girl character with abilities that were focused on gardening, your watering can would surely be in her inventory. The light purple packet of seeds that was also adorned with hearts fell into your palm after the watering can, and you figured that would likely also be something she would use, though you wondered how her abilities might differ from yours.

Maybe she would've been smart and would have some sort of ability that was more effective in combat.

As interesting as it might have been to consider the show about a hypothetical magical gardening girl, you couldn't focus on that forever. Definitely not with Chrollo staring down your back. Placing the empty watering can on the floor next to you, you adjusted the packet in your hand, both sides of which were left blank, and reached into your pocket for a pen as you looked to the man again.

His body, his clothes, the chair, and the blood that had been dripped and spattered across the floor. Four things to make note of. Another glance over at Feitan's tools and the blood and gore that covered them, not to mention the blood trail that led from them and back to the body. You would need to make sure you covered all of that area as well.

With all that Revival Gardener was capable of, it sadly wouldn't be a difficult task.

Holding the pen to the packet, you began to write:

Male human body

Adult's clothing

You were about to write down shoes when you stopped to double check yourself. It turned out he wasn't wearing any shoes, so that wasn't something you needed to bother with. You continued with the list.

Wooden chair with rope

Human blood

….. That was it. After double and triple checking what was before you and what you had written down, that was all you needed to change. You flipped to the other side of the packet which had yet to be filled in, and you paused a moment as you decided what you would write.

During that time, you didn't hear anything from Chrollo. He stayed silent as you wrote on the packet, but you could tell that his gaze was still on you. You didn't need to turn your head to confirm that.

After a moment of pondering, you decided to write the word “lavender”. The area the building was in was appropriate for it, with dry temperatures and lots of sunlight. That would grow well here.

With the decision made, the pen went back into your pocket, and you ripped open the packet before dumping the entire thing into the watering can. The seeds, the packet and the words you had written all broke apart within the space of the can, transforming into liquid that began to swirl about within your conjured creation, emitting a soft purple glow as it filled the can to the brim.

When the water stilled was when you could begin, and now with the can in hand, you looked again to the dead man. Exhaling a shaky breath as you clenched the the handles tightly, you took a few more moments before lifting the can above him, and with a tilt of your hands, you proceeded to pour the contents upon the poor man's body. He was quickly soaked from the water while the blood was washed down all over him, pooling in that same place in the seat of the chair. The chair was soaked as well; you made sure of that as you walked around it to make sure you covered every inch.

The body, the clothes, the chair, the blood. All of the blood. You needed to take a few steps back as you covered the floor in the unending water, making sure that you got every last stray drop.

All of it needed to be changed.

The man still looked as though he was sleeping as the water ran down his face and caused his hair to stick to his forehead. The blood from his neck washed down fast, however, joining the growing puddle beneath him that now had the water mixed in.

You then walked over to where Feitan's tools sat and poured the water over them. Though the box and the tools were quickly soaked as well, those items would remain as they were once this was over.

The last thing to be done was to cover the floor where the blood had dropped between the tools and the chair, and just like everything else, the water soon engulfed it.

When you returned to the body to make sure you had gotten everything was when the conjured water finally ran out.

With that, the first part was done.

You took a step back, staying behind the body while your watering can vanished. The second half of the process was going to begin soon, and you needed to watch all of it.

Chrollo chose then to speak once more.

“Come sit with me, love.”

You looked over to him and frowned when you found him motioning to an empty chair that sat beside him. The temptation was there to refuse and insist that you would stand for the rest of it. But just like everything else, this wasn't something you could get out of no matter how much you protested.

You remained silent as you walked around the body and took your place by Chrollo's side, your eyes immediately going back to the man while you gripped at your knees while you desperately hoped that, just once, Chrollo would refrain from saying anything further. Even though you knew that was incredibly unlikely, both due to the fact that there was a fair amount of time that needed to be filled out before you could leave this room, and because there was no way Chrollo would overlook your continued resistance.

Still, you dared to hope that he might, just this once, keep quiet while you suffered.

But of course that didn't happen.

“You know that it doesn't need to be this way, love,” he began.

You frowned again.

“You're right; it doesn't,” you agreed, “and yet you're dead set on forcing things to be this awful.”

You then cut him off before he could speak, saying “don't bother telling me that I'm the one making things difficult. I'm sick of hearing it.”

Chrollo let out a hum in response. Hearing that only had your frown deepen while your hands clutched at your knees harder, all the while you kept your gaze focused on the body. There was no change to be seen as of yet. But that would take a little while, as it always started internally before spreading out beyond.

Right now the man still looked like he was sleeping.

“Have our discussions become so stale that you immediately know what I'm going to say?” he asked.

“They only ever go around in circles. Honestly, I would've thought you'd be sick of the same conversations over and over,” you said.

“Be sick of them? Never.”

Chrollo leaned forward on his knees as he gazed at you, and from your peripheral vision, you saw the serious look on his face as he told you “if it's a chance to help you, then I'll gladly have the same conversation tens of thousands of times.”

“You're not helping me.”

“I am, love. You just aren't able to see it yet.”

“Because kidnapping me and making me dispose of your victims is such a great way to help someone,” you sarcastically answered.

The man's body shifted somewhat as he slouched back in the seat, though even now he still appeared to be asleep.

“I'm putting your abilities to good use,” Chrollo countered, casting his gaze towards the body as well.

“They weren't meant for this.”

“And yet they work quite nicely.”

“Shizuku's ability is more effective.”

“So you've said.”

Chrollo leaned back in his seat as he continued “but Shizuku isn't the one that I'm worried about.”

You scoffed.

“You're trying to say that you're worried about me?”

“I am.”

You shook your head.

“That's a lie. You're not worried; you just want to control me,” you said.

“That's not true.”

“How is it not? You took me away from my work when I didn't want to go with you and you used one of your stolen abilities to make me do what you want. How is that anything other than you controlling me?”

“Because it's for your own good,” he answered.

“I think I know what's good for me.”

“And I say that you don't,” said Chrollo, “the others are in agreement with me.”

Because all of you are monsters

You couldn't say that part. Because even though you knew it to be true, there was no way you could bring yourself to voice such a thing. You had grown up with Chrollo and most of the others, after all. All of you living together and finding those little scraps of happiness within that city of junk and decay.

Even though you hated the people they had become and you made that feeling of them clear, there was still some affection you had for them, for the children they had once been and who were now nowhere to be found.

The man's body twitched, arms and legs moving in response to your nen.

Already there was bile building up at the back of your mouth. You hated how you now recognized that as being a sign that his nervous system was in the process of changing. Just how many times had you been made to do this now? You could count them if you really wanted to, but once again you kept yourself from doing so. The exact number didn't matter. The fact that you were being made to do this at all was awful enough.

Chrollo had paid no attention to the current condition of the body, his focus back on you as he asked “have we already reached the point where you ignore me? I thought we had a bit more banter to go through before that happened.”

Your scowl remained on your face as you replied “for someone who claims to be worried about me, you sure do take a lot of time to mock me.”

“I'm afraid that can only be blamed on you, love. I care about you deeply, but you make it difficult when you kick and scream at me in an attempt to test my patience.”

Hearing that made you bite your lip in frustration; he was making it sound like you were a child throwing a tantrum. That alone was enough to make you want to hit him. Not that it would do you any good, even if, in the moment, it might have been slightly satisfying.

But just like you had told yourself before, the repercussions of such an action would come fast and harsh once the troupe dispersed.

…. Maybe that was pathetic of you. That you, a Hunter, would allow something as simple as pain be enough to give him leverage over you. Weren't you supposed to be stronger? After passing the trials of your exam, how was that enough for him to control you?

Then again, you hadn't taken the exam in the hopes of proving your strength or even in the hopes of becoming stronger. Getting that license was simply the easiest way to achieve your goal.

The chair beneath the man groaned and the legs began to buckle, bending slightly forward while green began to appear in the blood soaked wood. The ropes that had been left on the floor were also being overtaken by the green color, and upon the surface of the floor that was marred by his blood, small sprouts were starting to appear.

With the way the front legs had bent forward, the man's body lurched over, his upper half leaning against one of the chair handles. Despite the change of position, his face was still largely facing towards you, and the sense of peace you had tried to grant him by shutting his eyes and mouth was still there somewhat, even with the awkward position his body was in.

You hated this. You hated that you needed to watch the body of this unknown man being slowly taken over. If you tore your eyes away for too long, the change would stop and you would be stuck in this place with Chrollo for that much longer, which he would definitely chide you for.

Though you doubted he would mind all that much.

“Who was he?” your voice whispered, your nails digging into your hands again as you were having a difficult time with the sight before you.

“No one of importance,” was his response.

“I want to know anyway.”

“You don't need to,” Chrollo said firmly before he added “if you wanted to know his name you should have made that a condition for your hatsu.”

“I didn't make it a condition because Revival Gardener wasn't meant for things like this” you replied.

“I know. Your reasons were far more pointless.”

That last part stung.

“It wasn't pointless. I was helping people,” you said.

He had the nerve to sigh deeply at that.

“Love,” he began, “you chose to become a Cute Hunter.”

“I was helping people,” you insisted.

“What were you helping with? The official role of a Cute Hunter is to maintain the beauty of people and keep them looking younger. Was helping others maintain their vanity so rewarding?” he asked, the disdain slowly but surely creeping into his voice the longer he spoke.

“You know what I was doing. You know wasn't anything like you're saying and you know how much it meant to me,” you said.

You turned your head so you could give him the full extent of your glare as you again insisted “I was helping people.”

“You were growing flowers out of trash,” Chrollo said, “such a thing is hardly life changing and I guarantee there were few who even noticed what you were doing. All of us agreed that it was a waste of your talents.”

“But it wasn't. It isn't.”

He was wrong. The troupe was wrong. It wasn't a waste. They were simply incapable of understanding because of the path they had chosen.

Chrollo shrugged at your response, saying “feel free to cling to those beliefs of yours while you still can.”

“You say that like you think-”

The words coming from your mouth were lost when the man's body moved again, this time in the way of a full body jerk as something inside him gave way to the life growing within him. Whether it was because of that movement or simply something you had done wrong when you had applied your nen earlier, you couldn't say.

But regardless, his eyelids and mouth snapped open, and with him still facing towards you even now, you were greeted with a horrific sight.

His eyes were gone.

All that stared out at you through the empty sockets were the green of the leaves and the soft purple petals of the lavender flowers that continued to grow and fill the space within the man's head. His tongue was gone as well, though his teeth still remained, sitting among the stems and leaves while his gums were being consumed, slowly but surely revealing the bone of his jaw that sat beneath.

Now with his mouth once again hanging slack and open, the flowers began to make their way out into the open, the plant life now poking out at the edges of his mouth. That seemed to have caused a chain reaction, for the plants began to make their way out of his injuries as well. The stems and buds were now hanging out of his neck wound, reaching down his bloody torso where they were met by the ones escaping through the cavities left by his missing fingers, all mingling together as the flower buds grew rapidly. Lavender was blooming in that burnt section of his arm and on his broken legs and spreading out just like the rest of the plant that had found its way to the open air.

Empty sockets continued to stare at you as the flowers continued to grow, reducing what once had been a man into nothing more than a human shaped terrarium.

All the moisture had left your mouth as you stared back. You were left unable to speak as you began to tremble within your seat.

Mercifully, Chrollo remained silent during this time.

When the change began to affect his bones, his neck was fast to break. His head quickly bent over to the side as his skull began to lose it's shape.

And upon seeing that, the horror of it all overwhelmed you.

With a hand over your mouth, the floodgates of your emotions opened wide and you began to loudly sob.

This wasn't the way things were supposed to be.

A woman in a sharp business suit and her long hair tied up in a bun looked about the trees that surrounded her in bewilderment, her mind clearly racing as she wondered how this forest had come from nowhere and if she had somehow gotten lost on the way to her intended destination.

“Are you alright?” you called out, causing her to jump as she turned to face you.

“Ah – yes! I just…..”

The woman looked about again as she said “I got mixed up somehow and ended up here. I must not have been paying attention when I was driving.”

“Where were you trying to go?” you asked.

“The abandoned strip mall,” she told you.

“The one that was built on a former garbage dump?” you clarified.

She nodded.

Your hand went to the back of your neck as you said “well, most of it's gone now, but I can take you to see what's left of it, if you want.”

The woman's eyebrows furrowed, but she followed anyway when you beckoned her. Through a moderately sized collection of trees, bushes and a few open glades filled with wildflowers, you led her to the other end of the newly formed forest, and the both of you were greeted with a mound of dirt, concrete and aged garbage, most of which had fossilized. It was large, standing high over both of your heads. That was more in line with what the woman had expected, but she again looked behind herself to see the lush greenery that was clearly present in a place that it shouldn't have been.

She looked to you as she began with “you said… You said that this was what was left of the hill?”

You nodded.

“The same one that used to be a dump that was covered over and had built the mall on top?” she asked again.

Again, you nodded.

The woman looked to the greenery and then to the remains of the old dump site before she looked at you again.

“How?” was her bewildered question.

You nervously clasped your hands together as you began to answer.

“I'd heard about it not long ago,” you told her, “that the structure was abandoned years ago because of the methane coming from the ground and the way it had been sinking, and that it was still sinking into the garbage underneath it. When I learned that nothing was being done about it, I thought I could help.”

Realizing that you hadn't actually answered her question, you added “I'm part of the Hunter Association, and I figured that my skills would be able to fix this place. So I changed the buildings and what was underneath it to this.”

You gestured to the forest as you explained “it took a long time, but I think it's turned out well.”

The woman didn't look any less shocked after you finished speaking.

“You can just….. Do that?” she asked.

You nodded.

The woman continued to stare at you in disbelief, and the longer she looked at you like that, the more you began to worry that she was upset.

Then she spoke again.

“Can I hug you?”

The request was unexpected, but you smiled as you nodded to her. The woman quickly pulled you into a hug, and she held you tightly.

“Thank you so much,” she said, “I've been trying for so long to get the city to do something about that place but they always put it off, saying there were more important things they needed to take care of. They were content to let that place rot and fall apart, and I didn't think anything would ever be done.”

“Thank you so much,” she said again, “you don't know how much it means that you've gotten rid of that junk hill.”

You smiled again as you hugged her back, and a warmth bloomed in your chest as you heard her words of thanks. What you wanted most was happening: this had been your most ambitious project in your role as a Hunter, and before you were even finished, it was making a difference.

If you could do that for this woman, then the thing you wanted most could surely happen:

You could change Meteor City.

Your sobs continued to wrack your body as you watched the man's skin fall limp, held up only by the lavender flowers inside of him. He had been reduced to a skin suit, an unnatural looking thing that few would guess had ever been a real, living and breathing human. The chair he sat on was now beginning to lose it's shape as well, and slowly, the suit of skin began to lower further and further onto the floor as the wood of the chair was also absorbed and transformed.

Once all of the bones had been completely taken over, the skin began to do the same. It started in the areas where the skin was already broken, spreading from there like a disease. You watched helplessly as the last of that unknown man was eaten up by your hatsu, as his skin was broken apart and changed from flesh into plant.

You couldn't help but cry as the thought repeated in your head: this wasn't the way things were supposed to be. Your hatsu was never meant to be used in such a way, never meant to be perverted like this. All you had wanted when you became a Cute Hunter was to help people by way of giving them small pieces of joy as you turned trash into something as simple and beautiful as a flower. Even if it was something small, it was worth it to you.

Why did Chrollo find that so objectionable?

The pieces of the man's skin that still remained reached lower to the floor as the chair gave away completely. His blood soaked pants were vanishing quickly, the rope that had once sat by his side was long since gone, and the trail of blood that had led up to the box with Feitan's tools had been replaced by a long and scattered line of flowers.

It wouldn't take long now until everything about the man – his actual body and the things done to him – would be gone completely. No one who hadn't been here would be able to guess as to what had actually happened.

All they would see was a large patch of lavender growing within the abandoned building.

Though the man was nearly gone now, it didn't make it any easier on you, as your tears still fell as you focused on the parts that were still there: the last remaining bits of his skin and his dirty blonde hair that still stuck out at the edge of the growing patch of flowers. It had spread out far enough that it had reached where the two of you sat, and when you felt the petals brushing against the edge of your shoe, you pulled up your feet.

As much as you wanted to console yourself by saying that there was some comfort in the man's body not being allowed to decompose or rot, you knew it would do little to ease your distress. You weren't a good enough liar to convince yourself of that.

Chrollo's feet had stayed where they were when the flowers had extended out towards him, drawing his gaze down to the floor. After a moment of consideration, he reached down to the space in front of him, finding a stem of lavender and grasping at it. Then without even the smallest ounce of force, he plucked it. Sitting back up, he examined your creation, twirling it as he did so and causing the flowers to spin in his fingers.

“The end result is beautiful, love, I will give you that,” he told you, “but ultimately your reasons for your ability are far more superfluous than I know you would ever want to admit.”

You had bitten your lip to keep your mouth shut, though it didn't stop the way you sniffled while you continued to cry as you watched the last of the man's strands of hair turning green and sprouting up flower buds.

“One day you'll see that it was a good thing that I stepped in.”

Again you didn't respond, but you stiffened when you felt him lean towards you and felt his fingers tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. The apprehension of feeling his touch turned to disgust when he placed the flower he had pulled into your hair, tucking it in with the hair he had so gently moved only moments before.

Cruel.

That was all he was.

When the last strands of dirty blonde hair were gone and all that sat before you was the lavender, you knew it was finished. Just as Chrollo had wanted, you had done 'your part'. With no trace of the scene of bloody torture from before, you could now leave the room.

You attempted to do so without another word, but no sooner had you stood up, Chrollo ordered you to sit.

With no other choice, you did just that.

Chrollo's hand traveled to your lap in order to clasp yours, and the squeeze he gave you felt like it was meant to be encouraging, though you knew it was performative. Just like everything was with him.

“I know you think that I enjoy seeing you in distress, love,” he began, “but I need you to know that it couldn't be further from the truth. Your well-being is something that I care about deeply.”

“…. You have a funny way of showing that,” you mumbled, not having the strength to speak louder.

“Think of it as rehabilitation.”

“It's not, though,” you said, shaking your head, “I don't need to be fixed.”

“And once again, you're simply wrong, love.”

“…..”

When you pulled your hand away from his, he chose not to react. Nor did he say anything when you pulled the bit of lavender out of your hair and tossed it to the floor where it was quickly hidden among the rest.

“Can I go back to the other room already?” you asked bitterly.

Chrollo hummed as he took a moment before answering you, as if to rub more salt into your wounds by treating you like a child that needed to ask for his permission before you did anything.

You had pointed that out, once, calling him out on how degrading it was as well as insulting.

“Well, you aren't much different now than how you were as a child, are you?” he had spoken in response.

“Even now, you haven't grown past clinging to your princess dresses and playing make believe that you can force the world to match your idealized fantasy.”

You had slapped him for that. Hard enough that there was blood that dripped briefly from the corner of his mouth and a bruise that had stayed for several days after.

He didn't do anything to you for that. Not immediately.

It was when the job was over and the two of you were left alone in a location of Chrollo's choosing that he retaliated, using that ability that made your head feel like it was splitting in two as he forced you into doing things that you didn't want to do.

Again, the question surfaced: what kind of a Hunter were you that you allowed pain to keep you from fighting back?

…. One that had decided that 'Cute Hunter' was the direction to go in.

The slight self-deprecation of that thought wasn't lost on you. And it wasn't lost on you that it had come from Chrollo, his opinion sneaking its way into your brain without him needing to say anything or even knowing your own internal dialogue.

I hate this, you told yourself again.

It was the only thing you could say because it was the only thing you could do.

“It seems as though we're finished here, so I suppose you can leave,” Chrollo finally told you.

Without another word you stood and all but ran out of that room, having no desire to ever enter that place again and not wanting to risk Chrollo giving you more orders while you were still within earshot.

Chrollo himself remained seated, again gazing at the miniature field of lavender.

It wasn't right, you thought as you wiped away more tears.

Things shouldn't be this way.

Heading back to that main room where everyone else was gathered – because you'd be brought back there anyway if you went somewhere to be alone – your return was noted by all of the troupe, questioning eyes going to your form as you entered and made your way back to the spot in the corner you'd been occupying for the majority of your time here. Those questioning gazes didn't stay that way long, as one look at your tear stained face told them all that they needed to know as to how your corpse disposal had gone.

You had completed it. Everyone knew Chrollo wouldn't have let you leave without doing that. But as they continued to watch you, seeing the way you curled in on yourself and held your knees to your chest after you had taken a seat on the floor, all of them could tell that it hadn't been easy for you.

They couldn't understand it.

As they watched you obsessively and angrily wipe away the tears that you didn't want them to see, those members who had grown up with you were again at a loss as to why you cared so much about someone you didn't know. That, after the things you had experienced alongside them with your childhood in Meteor City, you had somehow managed to turn out so differently from the rest of them.

A few moments passed before Phinks got up from where he was sitting, and with his hands in his pockets, he began to walk towards you, no doubt with the intent of offering some kind of comfort. The harsh glare you sent him when he came close had him stopping in his tracks, and he floundered for a moment before turning around and returning to his seat, the awkward and disappointed look clear on his face as he did so.

You didn't want their pity or their comfort. You didn't want to be around them at all. No matter what they said, the childhood friends you had once had were nowhere to be found, not here or anywhere else in the world.

It was easier to tell yourself that the day Sarasa had been murdered, all of them had died along with her.

For the rest of this job, not another word would be said to you. You had done what was wanted of you, and so your role ended there. All you had left was the end of the job when Chrollo would force you to leave with him, making you follow him like a puppy. The troupe would part ways and then you might see a few of them sporadically between heists, but the majority of your time would be spent with Chrollo, and the head of the spider would return your reality to the one where your world revolved around him and him alone. Your abilities that you had wished to be shared with the world would be only for him, and again you would be forced to languish while you remained in his company, feeling a bit of yourself breaking apart day by day.

Maybe one day he would be successful.

Maybe one day he would manage to brainwash you and you would no longer find what they did so objectionable. Maybe a new version of yourself would emerge, one that had died just like they had with Sarasa, and you would walk around with them like a zombie, committing the same foul acts they did and feeling nothing while doing them. Maybe you would tell yourself the same things they must have, that all that mattered were those within the troupe, and in that way you could callously disregard the lives of others.

That wasn't today, though.

Eventually Feitan would return to where the body had been, no doubt needing to take a bit of time as he pulled the purple flowers that embraced his tools off one by one.

Eventually Chrollo would return to that main room and give instructions to the members that he had deemed necessary for the current job, and he would do so without casting a single glance in your direction.

The rest of the troupe would follow his lead, continuing with the job. Business as usual.

But at the back of their heads, they would remain hopeful for you.

Because if there was anyone who could fix you, it was Chrollo.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Finally getting around actually designing the human characters in this crossover! Starting off strong with Hiccup :) I hate drawing his armour so I already know I’m going to hate drawing Astrid in Claire’s armour as well.

I thought it would be too boring to just slap Hiccup in Jim’s regular armour, so I used some of the early concept art to tweak the armour to make it unique to Hiccup. I’m definitely going to change more of it, but I added the characteristic chunky boots that all Httyd characters seem to have as well as his chunky arm thingies in his OG design :)

Also coloured and half rendered Hookfang and Stormfly. Dunno if I’m going to have the energy and motivation to do the same for the others but this is just to get the idea of the design across. HUGE thank you again to @quiverymango for having my back with inspiration for these designs, I owe my life to you and I will never get tired of reading your tags <3 feel free to throw as many ideas as you want at me.

I got a bunch of vague ideas for the humans that I need to solidify, as well as the actual lore. Yes not going to be super in depth since I forgot a lot of details for both media, but just like the basic idea and roles of each character. And yes, I WILL be keeping Blinky and AAAARGH in the cast 🫵 I can’t get rid of the divas.

[northboreas]

Highlights from TGWDLMR's Final Countdown stream for those who missed it:

- The stream began with more behind the scenes interviews + some bloopers, with people like Paul Gabriel, James Tolbert, and Juliet Park speaking about TGWDLM.

- Nick Lang confirmed that there will be 16 Preformances for four weekends, doubling TGWDLM's run so everyone will get the chance to go see it. The show will be preformed in Los Angeles at the El Portal!

- Q&A time! First question was "What does the blue slime in TGWDLM taste like?" and the Langs said "It tastes like terror, horror, absolute divinity & godhood."

- "So like a wildberry celsius." - Matt Dahan

- Nick and Matt confirmed they've had many ideas for Charlotte Sweetly NMT stories. Most notably one where Charlotte kills the president and it's revealed she's always been an undercover assassin that CCRP experimented on. Hoooooly shit.

- "Every single character down to the Greenpiece Girl has a story written for them."

- To the question of would Ted commit to Charlotte if he was ever asked, Joey Richter said "Yes. 100%. Ted's whole arc in TGWDLM is realizing, 'Oh shit, I love this woman.'" Nick then confirmed that Charlotte wouldn't want or reciprocate that commitment.

- "How does Pete get infected in TGWDLM?" "When he had JUST spoken to Steph for the first time, he goes to beanies, gets his hot chocolate, drinks it, and dies. OR. Steph and Pete are walking to school together, Steph dies right in front of him, and then he dies."

- When asked about what happened to Steph's mom, Nick and Matt alluded to how Solomon Lauter had used The Black Book to become the Major, and that "The price for making a deal like that would be the thing you love most."

- The Langs know who Lex's father is, It's no one we've met yet. But they said Lex wouldnt be happy with the answer.

- "Does Ted regret becoming a sleezeball?" "I think Ted regrets everything about his life."

- "Who's your favorite LiB?" Matt and Paul said Pokey, Joey said Tinky, Lauren said Nibbly, & the Langs also said Nibbly because of a story they wrote that they havent shared yet.

- "The Lords in Black are immortal, and so they never gain wisdom. They're petulant children. Spoiled, petulant, everlasting children." - The Langs talking about the LiB.

- Nick lang has never heard of Ao3, but apparently Joey Richter has

- SAGE CAMEO !! DIANE CAMEO !! NEMO CAMEO !!!! SO MANY CAMEOS BECAUSE ITS THE FINALE !!!

- Mariah Rose Faith did 7 canonballs before joining the stream

- After more people joined they did tarot readings for the cast & for people in the chat! (If you're seeing this, Happy Birthday Elliott Bang!)

- Most notably: Corey Dorris got The Hunter [Max], The Alchemist [Hidgens], and The Fool [Ted]

- Matt Lang got The Watcher with a Thousand Eyes [Blinky], The Witch [Miss Holloway], and The King in Black [Wiggly]

- Nick Lang got The Collector [Sherman], The Merchant [Frank], The Man in Great Haste [Man in a Hurry!]

- Joey got The Artist [Ziggy], The Blade of Truth [General MacNamara], and The Father [Bill]

- "Lauren, I've got something I need to tell you, I'm pregnant” -Joey Richter out of context

- Nick Lang also pointed out that Corey got the Ted card for his reading and Joey pulled the Bill card. Billted shippers how are you feeling?

- Last but not least, some (paraphrased) writing advice from the Langs:

- "Tell your story to as many people as you can, you'll work out the issues as you tell it. An audience is the other half of the process. Without an audience, your story isnt done. When you show others, you might realize your work is better than you think it is."

- "If you want to be a writer, you actually have to write. When we were growing up, we never put pen to paper. Every single writer has to go through that period of knowing they'll never know what theyre doing until they actually do it, you have to try. You'll eventually figure it out. The sooner you can start, the better."

- We ended the campaign by counting down the last seconds, and we managed to raise 642k, with 9,575 backers. It has been a joy and an honor to have watched this project get funded in real time and to see everyone's excitement for TGWDLM's return.

- Thank you to everyone who donated, and thank you to Starkid for continuing to do insanely cool things. The apotheosis is officially upon us!

[idledearest]

Hatchetverse - OFFICE LORDS & QUEEN (Design Concept)

BONUS: Tinky and Blinky without glasses

WIGGLY

- Looks like Paul but green and with unkempt hair. Also if Paul was even more snarky & sarcastic, slightly more intimidating, and an even bigger asshole. Just less passive in general. He can hide it well though, after all he's sly and calculated. He's got high leading office businessman charisma, the type to get all the good deals. Comes off as manipulative and condescending.

POKEY

- The co-worker who listens to music on max and ignores everyone on purpose. Worst part is, people can hear whatever it is he's listening to. Impatient, standoffish, easily annoyed and highly dramatic. He looks like Bill if he had Solomon's personality and demeanor. The most unapproachable of the bunch. Embodiment of eye-rolls and side-eyes. Definitely the type to look at someone with full disgust and judgement and will make a show of it.

BLINKY

- He's definitely the office gossip. The kind who always looks over people's shoulder and take a peak at people's computers or phones. Also the one who stalks people's social media and uses their info as blackmail. Definitely an eavesdropper and the one standing around and watching. May also have zero filter in what he says, sometimes making people uncomfortable; To his enjoyment.

TINKY

- This guy definitely gives off "Pepe Silvia" energy. Has watches on both wrists, maybe even pocket watches hidden in his pockets. Very messy and disheveled in terms of appearance. He's a very skilled (and demonically fast) accountant though. If "running on nothing but 5 shots of espresso" is an office worker. Definitely the flirt or a charmer of the office; Thrives off of compliments and boasts about and uses it against people.

NIBBLY

- The guy who ALWAYS steals people's lunches and will not feel guilty nor shame for it. Always has a bag of pastries and drinks from any cafe. Will bite and snarl if asked to share. The type who always forgets to turn in work yet doesn't get fired (of course his brothers are biased for each other). His things are everywhere and take up space.

WEBBY

- The one everyone (unfairly) hates. "We used to work with her. Then we fired her." statements from co-workers (brothers). Gives off "mom of the office" energy. Very sweet and patient. And a pushover; The type to stay after hours to clean after everyone (or do the work everyone dumped on her). Looks out for the office type of deal.

🩵💜💛🩷💚🤍

so sorry about this long ass post i just wanted to get all the details i had while designing their outfits HAHAHA this genuinely took way longer than it should because i kept passing out so much 😭

just so everyone knows, i designed these outfits as a concept to what they could potentially wear if they were summoned in an office like ccrp AND what their actors and actresses could wear on stage. so it's like a stageplay costume design concept kind of thing too. so at least all of them ,excluding webby, has the “fuzz” texture on their outfits. reasoning as to why webby doesnt have fuzz is because she’s most likely the only one to fully present as the most human out of all of them to be more approachable and welcoming; not garish and uncanny like her brothers.

also yes, i finally found out curt had bright yellow eyeshadow as tinky so i added it. i gave tinks a stubble too cuz idk i want a 9-5 job reflecting on his face HAHAHA.

[mis-anthrapologistic]

[long post] random simplyplural inspo

cw: vague s/h warning in the first pic

our current custom fields:

* lyric / quote

blank field for a divider or graphic

* bday or forming date

* age

* appearance (verbal description)

* faceclaim (picture)

* other names

* prns & sexuality

* species

blank field for a divider or graphic

* role

* symptoms held

* activity (how often they front)

* complexity (fully formed or not)

* hierarchy

* subsystem

* relationships (internal & external)

* headspace location

blank field for a divider or graphic

* source

* pseudomemories or source memories

* source quotes

blank field for a divider or graphic

* weirdly specific opinions

* likes

* dislikes

* playlist

* irrational fears

* fun facts

blank field for a divider or graphic

* sign off

* fronting triggers

* reviews (that other alters leave about them)

* miscellaneous

* badges (stamps, blinkies, etc)

* credits

other random field ideas:

* mbti or other personality types

* talents & hobbies

* how to tell when the alter is at/near front

* handwriting, typing quirks, etc

* "this" or "that" type questions (cats or dogs, introvert or extrovert etc)

* other titles to refer to the alter as

* associations

* which alters helped fill out the profile

* stereotypical tropes?

* what types of dysphoria the alter experiences (height, gender, voice, etc)

* kins/synpaths

* what they would be bullied for in middleschool /hj

* "life written by: ___" (favorite writer, music artist, etc. basically, "they get me" or saying that their work is very relatable.)

* fursonas, oc's, etc

* how to make the alter feel more comfortable when they're at front, or if you're meeting them for the first time

* neopronoun or xenogender hoards

* what they would most likely be arrested for

* wishlist of things the alter wants to buy?

* if you're into things like danganronpa, then feel free to add a SHSL talent field :3

☆

we don't regularly add anyone on simplyplural, so we don't have that many privacy buckets. however, we do have one for all source related fields (faceclaim, source, mems, quotes, etc).

we also have a privacy bucket for the pronouns and sexuality field in case we ever add anyone we know irl.

for each of our role groups, we always include a definition for the role in the description/info box for those who may not know the term. ^_^

☆

other things we to do make our profiles a little bit more fun:

* silly quotes or references for the bios! we usually do twitter or tumblr references.

* over-use and abuse the description box for the groups. we always leave little notes, jokes, gifs, or extra graphics in ours.

* we have an info page at the top of our alter list where we include basic info about the sys. we also added a basic dictionary of system terms in the custom fields and some userboxes!

* make tons of silly groups. if you're running low on inspiration, check out those sorting memes where characters are put into certain scenario categories (hard to explain, but do you know what i'm talking about?). like... what characters would do in a fire, watching a horror movie, etc.

* also, groups for subcultures‼️

* get people outside of your sys to leave reviews about the alters to add to the "review" field! bonus points of they write it like a professional review or add "__/5 stars".

* we don't read fanfiction, but if you do, i recommend adding a section in the custom fields or groups for a hyper-specific AO3 tag or something!

* don't worry if your account isn't always super aesthetic. seriously, it's okay. your account layout has nothing to do with how valid you are. just make sure you have fun. :p

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

ROUTINE

hybrid!formula one x male!reader

request: requesting about hybrid!drivers (dog!mick and bunny!charles, + any others you want to add) and their post-race routines?!

summary: your boyfriend has a very specific post-race routine.

warnings: mentions of ferrari's interesting strategies (charles), mild angst to comfort (lance), very very mild implication of logan's mistreatment (logan), non-hybrid friendly scheduling (oscar)

contains: charles leclerc, lance stroll, logan sargeant, mick schumacher, + oscar piastri

word count: 1,065

bunny!charles leclerc:

charles was quite a clingy boyfriend, but his post-race routines were fairly simple. he doesn't need material things or even for you to do all that much. he does all of his team duties first. he may be a clingy bunny, but he lives and breathes ferrari and will never ever ever do anything to disappoint them.

once he's finished in the media pen, doing his team debrief, and congratulating or commiserating with each and every single one of his mechanics and engineers, he'll meet you in his driver's room. you should be sitting on the little sofa, with a nice soft blanket or a nice cold drink (with a straw—his bunny teeth are very sensitive) depending on the weather. he'll come over and flop down on your lap. charles makes the cutest squeaky-humming noise whenever you hug him.

he'll want you to massage his ears (they get quite sore being pressed flat to his skull during races) while he tells you absolutely everything. some details are more "important", like his view of incidents and penalties during the race. sometimes he'll rant about his team's strategies, and you were the only one who would ever hear him say a negative thing about the scuderia. sometimes he'd just ramble for a solid 30 minutes about things he noticed around the track, like a pretty flower. you're often the last couple to leave the paddock.

cat!lance stroll:

he hates doing media, so he'll rush through interviews to get back to you. lance is at the point cats get to where they're so tired and frustrated that they're more than ready to draw blood. if anyone tries to drag him into an argument post-race they will regret it. for most people, it's common sense not to mess with a cat hybrid when they're tired. unfortunately many people in the world of formula one are somewhat lacking in common sense.

by the time he gets to you, lance is often overstimulated and angry and has maybe even used his claws. it doesn't help his reputation, but he can't help it and you can't blame him. not when you've seen how insistently people ignored his boundaries. he'll let out a sort of angry, screaming meow of frustration when you start cuddling him. don't be deterred—it's just a vocalisation. he knows you respect his space when he needs it, but he still puts up token resistance so you know he's letting you do this. he'll melt into your touch soon enough.

unlike some other drivers, he will not want to talk. he's so overstimulated that even hearing you talk will grate on his nerves. just scratch behind his ears and maybe play fight with him a little to help him get out the excess energy. eventually he'll get reallyyyyy blinky. that's how you know he's ready to go home and take one of his beloved naps with you.

lynx!logan sargeant:

big ears, big heart—logan's the cuddliest feline in the paddock. most lynx hybrids were very very heat intolerant, but since he grew up in florida, he's got a little bit of extra immunity. no matter where in the world you are, logan will want cuddles all the time.

he loves you so much and he absolutely does not fit the solitary stereotype of his species. honestly, if he could be within arm's reach of you 24/7, 365, he'd basically just be a happy purring kitten. forget formula one, logan would just as happily spend all day as your personal heater and lap cat. post-race, he'd quite like to just curl up on your lap and either tell you all about his race or listen to you talk about just about anything.

after a little debrief in his driver's room, you'll go back to the hotel/apartment and have a proper cuddle, with the fan cranked up. sometimes he's perfectly happy to just lie with you in silence. if he's had a bad race or bad weekend, though, he'll prefer to watch a sitcom or something else lighthearted. you may or may not manage to turn the tv off before you both fall asleep

dog!mick schumacher:

he's generally pretty high-energy after a race. in stark comparison to the others, he gets adrenaline rushes that extend for a couple hours beyond the actual race ends. he does interviews, team debriefs, gets head pats from all his mechanics and also several other drivers, meets about two dozen extra fans, and does several cute lil tiktoks with his team before he even gets back to you.

even after all of that, he's still got leftover energy. item number one will always be running around with him and (ideally) playing fetch to tire him out. it'll probably take hours, a lot of zoomies, and a full weekend debrief for him to finally settle down. he shouldn't, but mick will feel guilty for being so much work for you (he's not) and will insist on making and bringing you your comfort beverage and snacks. he's a sucker for a good rom-com while snuggling in bed after a race. belly rubs are mandatory.

koala!oscar piastri:

the cuddliest cuddler to ever cuddle, and the clingiest boyfriend to ever cling. the second he's out of the car oscar is basically climbing into your arms no matter what. he doesn't care whether you're bigger or smaller than him—you will have to give him at least a piggyback.

poor baby's so sleepy. he's usually borderline nocturnal afterall! and on race weekends he has to be out and functioning all day and he barely even gets any naps. if you're bigger than or roughly the same size as oscar, you should be prepared for him to just hook his arms around your neck and whine until you pick him up. if you're smaller, expect him to be dragging you with him to media and almost falling asleep with you on his lap during the team debrief.

once he finally gets to retreat to his driver's room with you, oscar will munch on a few special koala hybrid snacks with eucalyptus before promptly falling asleep on you. his whole post-race recovery routine is based around getting a few solid hours of sleep. in an ideal situation, with his head on your chest so he can listen to your heartbeat as he dreams.

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: i love hybrid!drivers so much (special thanks to @babybearnation for helping me come up with lynx!logan. amazing idea ty)

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[paepaerest]

doodle dump and human designs for a particular AU work in progress

These were made in our lord 2024 but only a few months ago, who knows if most of these designs have been revamped lol and here are some thoughts!

Dictatious - I wanted to edge-ify his design in the most simplest way and also make him look kinda endearing. I kept some of his troll form's features (ie: like his weirdly-shaped jawline, "stubble", hair,) and tried to replicate it in his human form in a way that would work, yet make him not look too trollish or too indistinguishable. Excessive piercings as a bonus and a frankenstein-hairdo, he's definitely a nosferatu freak and listens to type o negative/the cure.

Gunmar & Bular - Gunmar has two colored versions where he's in a yellow phase so he wears a yellow shirt and dyes his hair yellow, change his eye-contacts... Vice versa with blue, this change is very prominent and important to the plot but also, not going to lie Gunmar, it's a little gay. I couldn't imagine him with a lighter-skin tone or it would've looked a bit off (as well with the rest of his colours), so I managed to play around with his iconic troll colors while sticking true with how I wanted him to look like. Bular, oh my goodness I was reading The Secret History of Trollkind and there was a panel where Argh had done him some damage to his right upper lip, kinda badass. Had to add it onto his design, as it is very important to the storyline. If you've noticed, I tried to shape their hairstyles to look similar to their troll horns.

Ursuna - I'm a little bias towards her (you'll see a pattern with the others, lol) and she's not going down without feeling pretty. I wanted her beauty to balance with her charismatic 'leadership' and make her someone you'd least expect to be a villian, or already suspect she is one. Yes, she'll do drag. Yes, she is mother. No, I do not support her actions.

Angor Rot - His hair-do following the same inspiration from his troll form's horns, I imagine he'd style his own hairstyle and give himself braids. He's a true entrepreneur, and still is very magical! He carves voodoo stones etc etc, call him a false prophet or call out on his facade... nothing is going to happen, lol (Still, pack up & move out to a new country for good measure!) Someone put him in a retirement home, he is TIRED.

Gremlin - I spy with my little eye, the random french guy behind Gunmar & Bular. He is specifically the gremlin who draws a moustache onto his face while he trolls around with an alphabet kid's toy. (Yeah he has experienced death once)

NotEnrique/Rique - I don't know, I wanted to make him a normal guy. Who looks like a kid, but is actually almost in his 30's with a heavy boston-scottish accent ? he's a punk.

Draal - He has a new design now, but I thought it'd be nice to bring up his older design. Adidas pants, that says it all. Over-competitive and an over-achiever. He doesn't care about trends, just wears whatever is comfortable and it happens to be a brand clothing. I wanted to give him a fur-coat to resemble his troll form's spiky back, and keep his cool prosthetic arm. He's like the Costco guys with his dad but angrier

Kanjigar - A friend said he looked like he'd live in the suburbs. I see it. An arguably good father (that part seems to be controversial), I wanted to give him a Walter White vibe, while he is supposed to represent the Police.

Argh/Arthur - Big guy, build is a little wider and heavier, still has a muscular build, overall he's changed since. He used to have a slimmer, more muscular build when he was still working under Gunmar, call that an improvement. I got inspired by other people's human designs of Argh and HAD to design how I would see Argh. (I had an Argh/Blinky ao3 binge-reading phase, kiwibird being one of them aaah)

Vendel - A majestic wise old man, managed to keep his hair that long for over a decade. Gave him a skirt, he's kinda giving irish I think. In my defense, he had red-hair when he was younger. (Shown in The Secret History of Trollkind or The Felled !) Treatable hunchback and skin cancer, he and the hospital bill are opps. Does a lot of good for his community.

Speaking of fanfics, i plan to reread the one that heavily influenced me!!! and to know where I'm getting at please read below: the real thing