#this AU gets pretty dark.

[theokusgallery]

okay okay i need to learn about arsenic lore what is that

Funny you'd ask, Toaster, I was wondering whether to make a post or a side blog or just start posting about him in more detail. Anyway, here's some elements of his story as I'm currently picturing it :

Arsenic's story is a deeply unhinged one, and is heavily linked to his (unhealthy) relationship with his Sunny, who doesn't really have a name besides Sunny.

Nick is a dark character. He's not a nice guy, he doesn't try to be, in fact the basis of his character is that he's an obsessive, controlling, manipulative asshole.

He is 18 when he meets Sunny through mutual friends. Friends is a big word, actually -- let's say he's 18 when Sunny hangs out with his friends, who happen to know Nick, and awkwardly introduce Sunny to him.

Now, Sunny's a nice guy, if a bit shy. This Basil guy is weird and kinda creepy, sure, but Sunny's been called weird and creepy for being autistic several times, so he decides that maybe Nick just needs a friend ! Sunny's totally not attracted to people who intimidate or scare him, no sir-ee, he's just a nice dude who happens to have attachement issues and oh would you look at that, Nick has successfully manipulated Sunny into being emotionally dependent on him. And Sunny is fully aware of it. But he's still undeniably emotionally dependent on Nick. Oops.

And so the story of their unhealthy codependent toxic sludge of a relationship begins.

(As for what happens to their eyes-- I want to make it a comic. But they both have two perfectly healthy eyes when they meet.)

[lunarcrown]

OLLD drawing I can share now of Timmy after recovery and care from staying on double life and being looked after by the box boys~

He’s healthier, happier, his hair and wings have grown back out and have a pretty blue-black sheen to them (that he never knew he had bc in hels his diet and environment only let them be dull) and he just heard the sound of a portal opening for someone to come visit~!

[rocketbirdie]

smile for the fans!

[slashergirlnancy]

stancy + The Hunger Games AU (mentor!Nancy and tribute!Steve)

[parappaadventure2q-a]

bit of a repost but here's all the character advertise backgrounds so far

[trensu]

have another snippet of stasis in darkness! just 'cuz i'm bored tbh, and kinda stuck on all my wips i'm currently working on.

The seventh night:

“Has he spoken to you yet?”

“How could he when you’re here yammering my ear off every night?”

“He’s a god, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for him to shut me up.”

“Even gods have their limits.”

“Oh, har har. The warrior’s got jokes. You didn’t answer my question.”

“...not yet,” Steve said stiffly. 

“It’s been how long now? A week?” The man hummed in a falsely thoughtful manner. “Maybe he’s just not that into you, man. Maybe he’s letting you down easy.”

At his words, Steve involuntarily curled his shoulders inward, slightly, ever so slightly, in defense. He'd been wondering that same thing earlier that day. Steve had toiled hours in the sun to fix up the shrine; to make it welcoming; to encourage a divine visit. 

He had stopped wearing his armor to free up more time to work. Putting it on and taking it off took too long, and he didn't have to maintain it as much if he wasn't wearing it regularly. He stuck to only his chainmail. He'd kept his shield stored away, too, so it wouldn't get in the way while he worked. Though, he made sure to keep his sword nearby.

He’d taken his knife and traced over the etchings of stars in the alcove that served as a backdrop to the statue. His knife had been ruined but it didn't matter. The Lord of Night would probably want the stars of his dark sky with him, he reasoned, and these had worn so thin. Sadly, it was the only detail he could bring out of all the stone. The statue’s face was so crumbled that Steve couldn’t even begin to guess what it had originally looked like.

He had discovered that the vines he chose to keep were moonflowers. They had blossomed every night since he’d removed the other more invasive plants. He'd draped them carefully so they lay across the statue's shoulders, wrapped lovingly around its torso and clung to its waist before the ends of the vines trailed off at the knees. 

The strange man might have made himself a nuisance during his visits but he never stayed the whole night. Steve had been able to get a few hours of makeshift prayers at the shrine every night. He’d done all this, yet dawn broke every day without a single sign that the Lord of Night had been listening.

“Warrior?”

Steve broke out of his reverie. He refused to look at the man. He had to clear his throat roughly before he could speak.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been rejected by someone I love." Steve tried not to dwell on his father's perpetual scowl and his mother's infinite disinterest. "I’m pretty used to my devotion being one sided by now.”

“That’s a bummer,” the man said. His sympathy was meant to be teasing, Steve could tell, but it came out surprisingly sincere. “Good thing you have a whole pantheon! Strong guy like you? Any god would take you to be their warrior in a heartbeat.”

“What are you talking about? No, I’m nowhere near done with his shrine,” Steve said determinedly. “I know a silversmith and a stone mason who’d give me a hand, and Dustin and Robin have been dying to come up here to bring him offerings. The only reason they didn’t come with me is because I had to do the pilgrimage on my own if I wanted a shot at earning his blessing.”

The man spluttered.

“Are you insane? A god rejects you and you’d come back? What kind of stupid–were you dropped on your head as a child?

“A couple times, but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Are you sure? Have you checked? You should go to one of the gods of medicine. Owens, maybe. Have him take a look at your head,” the man huffed in frustration. "For stars' sake, why would you want to come back?"

He ignored the insult to his intelligence. For stars' sake. Steve murmured the words to himself, letting them settle in his mouth to get a feel for them. He'd never heard of that one before. He liked how it rolled off the tongue, natural as anything. 

The man waited for his response. Steve took a moment to try to sort out his words. He kept his head bowed towards the shrine as he ruminated.

“People barely remember my god,” Steve finally said. “And when they do, they remember him as something he’s not. Even if he doesn’t believe I’m worthy of carrying his crest, he shouldn't be forgotten.” 

The man said nothing. Steve took a shuddering breath before the quiet could take over. 

“Having someone forget you is…it’s very lonely. Which is the worst feeling. I…I guess I don’t want him to be lonely anymore.”

The silence that followed his statement stretched long enough that Steve started falling into that meditative state he’d learned during his many nights at the shrine. It helped dull the twisted up, unsteady sensation that lingered from the man’s prodding at his every self-doubt and fear.

“He hasn’t rejected you yet, though,” the man broke Steve's musings awkwardly.

“He hasn’t reached out to me either. It’s fine. I’ll keep coming either way.”

Another silence. It was around the time the man usually left Steve to his worship. He didn't hear retreating footsteps. Instead, the man cleared his throat, and when Steve looked up at him, the man turned his face away, shrouding it in gloom.

“Maybe he’s nervous. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t contacted you yet.”

“Nervous? No way.”

“He sounds like a godly weirdo,” the man said. “Maybe he’s never had a holy warrior before and doesn’t know what to do.”

“He’s the good kind of weirdo! And there’s no way he’s not had a warrior carry his symbol. He must’ve had loads back in the day. I probably don’t meet his standards,” Steve smiled lopsidedly, playing off his insecurity.

“I’m serious!” the man exclaimed. “It’s possible! Some gods never get warriors. Some never want them at all!

“Look, even if I was the first to offer to be his, he’d know he didn’t have to be nervous,” Steve insisted. "I’ve never served a god before either! I wasn’t sure I could have faith at all until I learned about him. So like, if he’s new to it then so am I, and we’d figure it out together.”

“...you really mean that, don’t you? You’d let him make it up on the fly if he took you on.”

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugged.

“You’d keep coming back even if he rejected you?”

“Yep.”

“But why? That’s so stupid. Nobody would do that!” The man sounded frustrated.

“I’m not really known for my smarts,” Steve said matter-of-factly. “Robin and Dustin had to translate the only book we found about the Lord of Night because I definitely wouldn't have been able to. It was a tiny book but it still took them ages to do because the language doesn’t really exist anymore. So they told me it’s possible it’s not accurate. It felt true, though, to me. 

“There was this quote, I can’t recite it word for word, but…it was something about how monsters don’t always look monstrous, and the monstrous aren’t always things to be feared.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” the man protested. Steve shook his head.

“No, it’s true! Like, I know I’ve got a pretty face and really great hair,” he smirked when he heard the man scoff, “but I was such a fucking asshole when I was younger. I went around hurting people on purpose, tearing them down for no reason other than I was hurting too, and that’s the shittiest reason to hurt anyone. I had to get some sense knocked into me by the people I call friends now. 

“My friends are the greatest people I know, and I’m really lucky to have them, but to everyone else? My friends are losers. They’re rejects because they don’t act right or they don’t look right; they talk too much or too loudly. People treat them like shit because they're different. 

“And after I noticed that, I started seeing it more even if I don’t always pick up on it. And I still mess up sometimes. I'm not a god, I can't change the world but…in the stories Robin and Dustin translated, the Lord of Night helped people like my friends because it was always the weak and rejected that try to hide themselves in the dark. I want to help those people find him again so they know they’ve got someone holy in their corner. They should know someone loves them enough to protect them.”

Steve didn’t really know where all those words came from; he wasn’t a wordsmith like Robin and Dustin. He always had a hard time verbalizing his thoughts, and he usually messed up the words. Nonetheless, these words had almost burned to be said. 

When the speech that flowed from him finally reached a natural end, he felt…lighter, cleaner. He felt like his shield and sword when they were polished to a shine. But when he turned to see his audience’s reaction, the man had gone. Steve felt strangely dejected instead.

–

The eighth night:

“Hey, it’s me again. My supplies are low and I don’t know what your thoughts about hunting on your land are so I’d rather not…I don’t want you to think I’m disrespecting you. I might have to leave soon to get more supplies,” Steve swallowed nervously. “Which isn’t an ult..ultimate…? No, damn, what is it called? I’m not trying to force you to talk to me before then, is what I mean. Not–not that I could! With you being a god.” 

Steve scoffed at his own blundering. He should’ve had Robin help him make speech notes. Cards with conversation starters. Something! He took a deep breath and tried again.

"But I'm coming back, I promise. I meant what I said about fixing up your shrine. I’ll commission a new plaque and I’ll talk to the stonemason about replacing your plinth. I don’t know a lot about sculpture, but I’ll get you the strongest type of stone and get something nice carved on it. Your flowers? Or cats? Cats are cute. Maybe your bats would be better…?” Steve trailed off.

It was quiet save for the faint rustle of leaves in the cool breeze. The full moon illuminated the area more than ever before. The shrine must have really been a beautiful sight back in its heyday. The thought of it sent a pang of longing through his soul.

The hour came that the strange man usually showed up. Steve steeled himself for another round of questions, another jab at his faith. The hour went by with Steve alone in the clearing. Steve frowned.

“Do you think he’s okay?” 

Steve’s question went unanswered.

After another hour without seeing his stranger, Steve had finally convinced himself to round the perimeter for a quick check in case the man was nearby or in need of assistance. When he found nothing, he checked again in case he missed something. 

Still nothing. Uneasily, Steve gave up his search and returned to the shrine. He knelt before it again, head bowed. He cleared his throat.

“Lord of Night, I don’t know his name, and I know he’s been rude–annoying–but could you please watch over the man? Please keep him safe from harm for as long as the stars shine tonight. Thank you.”

He received no response, but Steve had faith. He knew he was heard. He knew his god wouldn’t let an innocent come to harm if he could prevent it.

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

[phoenixcatch7]

Open up

Based on this wonderful art of @puppetmaster13u for the dollhouse au!

It had been a long day, and was destined to be even longer.

The original plan had been bad enough; the league had a media conference planned for three o'clock, one that involved foreign presence and thus required pristine presentation.

Then, as all perfectly good plans that could have been left alone by the universe did, it was derailed by a villain attack or several. He said several because it seemed almost a dozen separate villains had individually had the bright idea of sabotaging the well publicised event. Though they'd failed, the accidental collaboration had done what each alone could not, and now the league was dragging themselves to base to hurriedly patch up the thankfully minor wounds and try and rush to meet the deadline.

Each league member on the list had a formal version of their usual super suit - flash's main change had been a bowtie before it met almost unanimous disapproval, and on the other end of the effort spectrum was Bruce. Not of his own will - he quite envied Flash's staunch faith in the single black bowtie - but he not only had been raised for the fast and critical world of the upper class, but was currently in a metal plated marionette held together by glue and screws and wires, which meant changing attire was more of a debacle than it would ordinarily be.

He flipped open the toolkit with the best approximation of a sigh the doll body could manage. The chest inflated and deflated, which was in fact a rather worrying sign because it wasn't supposed to be able to do that. He grabbed a screwdriver and a pit of tar glue and approached the mirror. He'd just have to go into the globally broadcast meeting stinking of sulphur... Perhaps he could borrow perfume from one of the girls, cologne combined dreadfully.

The chest cavity opened with little tugging, and he held one side in place as he attacked the bent hinges. An odd feeling, for sure. He took a hammer to the dent, imagining it was the penguin's face and praying Clark didn't decide now was the time to approach him on his self soothing metalworking hobby. He'd been entrusted with the override code for the door and Bruce was now quietly regretting that.

The chest cavity doors creaked back into place, which enabled him to finally pull out the costume change for the evening and dump it on the side.

Now for the leg, having been crushed under a tank penguin had smuggled into Gotham. It now bent the wrong way, and hiding it under his cloak had been a pain, but at least it hadn't come off -

There it went. Batman watched, almost despondent, as it toppled free of his body and crashed to the ground. The unhappy static that raced up his spine at the sight was expected - he'd be paying for the lack of care for the Patriarch Doll in nightmares tonight.

Joy.

He tipped into the nearby stool and kicked the lost limb closer with his remaining foot, squinting. Just a cracked screw and torn spring at the knee, thank goodness. He'd have it fully attached again within the hour.

But he was pretty sure he couldn't bend that far over without his jaw falling off, so face it was.

Hood off, wires unlaced under the chin, hidden screws loosened. The gas mask came off. The velcro on top of his head took good old fashioned yanking, but eventually peeled off with reluctant crackling, revealing the unpainted grey metal beneath.

As expected, his jaw was almost entirely loose, unable to close now without the structure of the mask. The nutcracker mouth in the lower jaw fell to tap against his throat, leaving either side of the actual lower jaw to hang in the air. Experimentally, he opened and closed his mouth, and watched all three parts swing and clink like a robot body horror wind-chime.

This was going to need a finer touch, and so he stripped off his gloves to access the sharp points of his talons - capped while with the league to keep the prick of steel rending claws to a mere suggestion.

He felt bared, now, all his top layer removed and abandoned, the door to his room at his back. He feels the paranoia to double check the lock, reassures himself that even if he'd somehow forgotten in his haste to hide away none of the members were mad enough to try and get in. Outside Superman, of course, but he always knocked.

Still, he hurried through repairs, running diagnostics in the back of his mind as he daubed glue into the cracks and set about restructuring his own jaw. Ears swivelled. Neck rolled. Glider snaps curled.

The jaw pieces were setting nicely when there was a noise at the door, and batman whipped around, cloak flaring behind him. The pliers dropped from suddenly weak fingers.

Captain marvel stood in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the room, face pale as he saw Batman propped up in middle, bare of his many obfuscating layers. Black tar speckled his lap, wires hung free like veins, blank eyes glowed, his jaw gaping, skinless. Glinting claws and spikes in full view, a limb discarded on the floor like garbage. His chest a dark hole, void of organs, of machinery, of anything that could make him run. A decades old terror gripped his heart.

HE SAW!

Both froze. Time stretched interminably.

The captains chest heaved for a scream, and batman was moving before he knew it, grabbing his fallen leg and lunging.

Captain marvel fell with a crack. Batman caught himself on the door. Five seconds before short term memory entered long term, had he reacted in time?

Hm.

He considered the body of the champion of magic laid in front of him, idly rebalancing the eternal tally graph of potential energies the dolls might run on in the back of his head and as always coming up none the wiser. This was a very inconvenient place for a body. Perhaps he could nudge marvel into the hallway to wake up. He glanced up and down the empty corridor, staying out of view of the camera.

Maybe he had overreacted slightly.

Bonus:

Billy and Green Lantern sat in the monitor room, ostensibly on duty but really checking out the watchtower camera feeds of the day before. Lantern was pointing at the screen.

"Here," he said, with a glee Billy didn't honestly appreciate. "Look at that. You go down like a sack of bricks and then -" he clicked forward two frames, "- this silver hand thing appears on the door frame. Look at that, that's a proper horror movie hand curl. The claws! Just missing the glint of a blood covered axe appearing from the shadows."

Billy shuddered, but couldn't help moving closer.

"What do you think it was? Can't have been batman, right?"

"You were there, you tell me." Lantern patted him on the shoulder before he could retort. "I mean, doesn't look much like him. Doesn't really have claws and his are black anyway. Pretty sure his gloves are sewn into his skin at this point."

"I didn't need that mental image," Billy said, because he really didn't.

"Could be another Robin variant? Like that black bat thing?"

"Dunno. I mean, unlikely. Maybe it was batman. Maybe he can shapeshift a little."

"We've had that on the list of possible powers for ages, still nothing firm one way or the other."

"It probably is batman -"

"But the claws -"

They trailed off.

"We'll just add it to the list. I'll save the file, hang on. We can talk about it at the do next week - you're coming right?"

"Yeah, but I've got, uh... A diplomacy thing with the yetis at nine, so I'll have to bail then."

"You always have the weirdest personal missions. Hey, maybe you can ask them about batman, pffft. Maybe he's one of them."

[uncleardyn]

(alan wake-gravity falls crossover) man i love that character. you know, the deeply paranoid author who made a pact with a dark entity that ultimately ended with him stranded in another dimension separated from his loved ones for years at a time? takes place in the pacific northwest? has twin imagery associated with him and a reoccurring specific piece of symbology related to the unfortunate situation they're in? doesn't ever explain the reasoning behind his actions and instead just kinda goes "bro trust me"? yeah he also wears an outer layer of clothing with elbow pads on it, that one.

[cookiep-cat]

Infection Insanity AU

Chapter 1: Hypothesis

[royalelo]

Sicknezz memes because i have constipation and oh god theres so much

[unironicallytes]

so my partner works at renaissance faires sometimes

well so this is fairly common, but they get approached and are handed a tiny scroll, first the one on the right

so they open it up and go "...OH."

"my partner would love this!!! thank you random Dark Brotherhood recruiters." and the people giving out the scrolls go "ah. I see. your partner will be needing this then..." and just

I love these so much. they put em on the NICE paper, pulled out the yellowed, smooth parchment for what amounts to a one-off joke, and frankly, I respect the hell out of it LOL. my dumbass gonna put these in tiny frames they're so fun.

"hey Shea btw whats with the bones as paperweights?" my sibling in Sithis don't worry about it (they are ethically-sourced salvage that I happen to have laying around for craft purposes)

[autumnoakes]

this isn't a criticism but i think totk would have made an incredible horror game (or at least would have been really good if nintendo had leaned more into the horror elements already there)

like. you have link with gloom in his body for the entire game. there's that right there that could make for a terrifying situation for him with ganondorf's abilities. there's the fact that both ganondorf AND the yiga clan can now impersonate zelda (and other various NPCs). you don't know who you can trust anymore because they may be a familiar face, but are they really who they say they are, or are they just trying to get close to link so they can kill him? the gorons are angrier than they've ever been because of that marbled rock roast. rito village is in the middle of a destructive snowstorm that never seems to end (snowscapes work well for horror :)). zora's domain is being covered in muck that the zoras can't breathe in. gerudo town is pretty much destroyed and even in game it's horrifying to see the town overrun with gibdos. i think they're really close to it in sections (goron city, gerudo town, hyrule castle, the depths).

[jessicas-pi]

hear me out on this ok. ROTS AU where Anakin still turns to the dark side but that's Palpatine's problem.

So, Palpatine decides last minute that ehhhh maybe dooku could come in handy later and he doesn't encourage Anakin to kill him, and Dooku gets arrested and imprisoned in the Jedi Temple awaiting trial. (Also he didn't get his hands cut off because of uhh plot reasons?)

Fast forward.

Palpatine is encouraging Anakin towards the Dark side, tells him about Plagueis the Wise, etc. etc. But see, the thing is, Anakin is at the end of his tether, probably hasn't slept more than three hours over the past week, and has no remaining impulse control or inhibitions, and upon hearing that the Dark Side can save people from death, his first thought is, "wait a sec, we've got a Sith Lord in-house at the moment!" and he sprints out of the space opera and books it back to the temple.

Now, Dooku has been calmly waiting in Temple custody, confident that Darth Sidious will arrange his escape. But THEN Anakin barges into the cell like OMG THE CHANCELLOR TOLD ME THE SITH KNOW HOW TO KEEP PEOPLE FROM DYING AND I'M HAVING DREAMS ABOUT SOMEONE DYING AND I NEED YOUR HELP TO SAVE THEM

At which point, Dooku realizes Palpatine's plan. He's going to tempt Skywalker to the Dark side and REPLACE DOOKU. this is totally uncool.

So he's like "...who are you dreaming about, exactly?"

Anakin freezes. He can't admit it's Padme because their relationship is top-secret and he can't admit how important she is to him so he tries to think of a good fib and goes "uhhhh OBI-WAN! Obi-Wan, it's Obi-Wan, I'm dreaming about Obi-Wan dying-" and he just throws himself into the drama because now he IS imagining obi-wan dying because Obi-Wan is fighting grievous at the moment and he MIGHT ACTUALLY DIE and that's in addition to Padme dying and he's totally spiraling at this point- "pleasepleaseplease you gotta help me he's like the only father i've ever known I don't know what i'll do without obi-wan I have to save him YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT TO DO I'LL DO ANYTHING--"

Dooku begins to smile.

(Would stealing Skywalker out from under his Master's nose be petty? Oh, yeah.)

(But it would also be very, very satisfying.)

---

Obi-Wan calls in to a council meeting to report his defeat of Grievous, but before he can say so, Mace announces that Dooku has escaped and the Sith Master has been killed.

Silence falls between the eleven councilmembers (eleven, not twelve, because their newest one is conspicuously absent. Obi-Wan wonders just what Anakin's up to now. Honestly, that boy will be the death of him.)

Obi-Wan clears his throat.

"...indeed," he says, trying to handle the shocking news with composure. "Well... at least we're down to one Sith, now."

Another awkward pause.

"Yeah, about that--" Mace begins.

[tragicotps]

Canon Asriel x Marisa as Philip Pullman wrote them

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

Hiiii im here to ask about nhw Tide :D!

I saw with ur post about Tides powers and such that he had a dad moment during the leviathan fight when the pd arrived and started to help (dad coded Tide my beloved-). Which got me thinking of so many lil questions about his interactions with the pd and the others so here’s a couple of them :D!

Does Tide work with the pd much? I also remember u guys saying the the pd have trainers and such but is Tide their Mentor :O? I’m so curious about the fishy man :]

(I also only know worm stuff from y’all & a couple of others who are reading it and the urge to read it to understand what’s going on more is getting stronger-)

OOOOOO YOU WANT TO READ WORM.... YOU WANT TO READ WORM SOOOO BAD OOOOOOOOO here's a link to worm to make it even easierrrrr

ANYWAY. tide's role is... not as official as it is in canon. he doesn't really have any official responsibility for the wards, he only really helps them out because he wants to. the way the wards program works in worm is that there is a checks and balances system where parahumans cannot be in charge of other parahumans. the prt (parahuman response team) is VERY paranoid about the idea of people with powers banding together to take over the world and treating unpowered people as... lesser? so every wards team has what's called a "handler" who either is or answers directly to the director, both of which are unpowered regular people. (roswell can probably explain this better than I can so if u are still confused I would go to them but I THINK this is the basics?)

the handlers have the authority to do things like set their patrol schedules and administer punishments for not following direct orders, stuff like that. they're basically like... the wards' shitty boss. tide to them is like that one older coworker that really wants you to succeed so he helps you out whenever he can but also he gets really busy sometimes because he's VERY good at his job and is needed elsewhere a lot. there's an INCREDIBLE character in worm named Hero (yeah.) who is. ouuavhgh I love Hero so much. he literally only exists in like one chapter toward the end of the book but. points at this man. that's Tide to the nhw::::

I made a point in my last post abt the elementals that the wards remind tide of shockwave, and I think thats a huge reason why he is initially soft on them, but i think as he worked with them and got to know them and things he realized like ohhhh i love these boys like they're my own kids and we live in such a horrible world where terrible things happen to capes every day and this system we work for is so corrupt I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure they get as much of a childhood out of it as they possibly can, they're so young (he only. partially succeeds at this. ofc horrible terrible traumatizingly bad stuff still happens. but it's important that he tried. there are so few adults in the world that want the best for them and by GOD tide is one of them)

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Polyship Week 2024, Day One: Team As Polycule (Valicer In The Dark AU)

Hello everyone, and welcome to Valicer Polyship Week 2024! :D Where, just like in 2023, you will get a daily Valicer fic based on one of the prompts from the official Polyship Week 2024 prompt list, courtesy of, naturally, @polyshipweek! Today is Day One, and the prompt I chose was "Team As Polycule" -- mostly because it immediately made me think of my Valicer In The Dark trio, and how they are a criminal crew as well as a polycule. Though, interestingly, the story that I came up with doesn't have actually have them doing a score together or anything like that. Instead, I ended up writing something about Alice being told that romancing her fellow crewmates is a bad idea by the leader of another gang in the area, and taking semi-violent offense to said leader poking her nose into her business. :P Not sure why my mind went off in that direction -- but as you will see tomorrow, apparently I really wanted to write "someone is a jerk to one of the trio, only to get theirs in the end" this year...

--

“You know, it’s not a good idea to mix pleasure and work.”

Alice blinked, then looked over to see one Nessa, leader of the Gray Cloaks, standing by the door to the bathroom, arms folded across her chest and mouth thin with displeasure. “It’s not going to end well,” she continued. “Sooner or later, the tower of cards always collapses.”

“Right.” Alice shook her hands off above the cracked sink basin before reaching for the towel. “First of all, did you really follow me in here to say that? And second of all – what? What are you talking about?”

“Yes, I did, because I had to go anyway – and I didn’t want to say this with your two, ah, friends overhearing,” Nessa replied, jerking her head toward the door and, implicitly, at Victor and Smiler back at their table. “And you know what I’m talking about. You’re playing a dangerous game, getting – involved with your partners in crime.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe I asked your opinion on my love life,” she said coolly, drying her hands.

“You’re getting it anyway,” Nessa said, untroubled by her tone. “Because I think too much of you to let you make a stupid mistake. Look, you’re easily the most sensible one in your little gang–”

“Me? I’m the one who talks to things that don’t exist on the regular,” Alice cut in, raising an eyebrow. At her feet, Cheshire covered a chuckle with his paw. “Just underlining my point there, Cat.”

“Sure, fine, but look at the two people you hang around with,” Nessa insisted. “Your Whisper’s a slip of a thing from money, and spends his time sticking his nose too far into his books and fiddling around with things he doesn’t understand. And your Leech…” Nessa rolled her eyes. “Well. They’re an Advocate. We all know what that lot is like.” She pointed at Alice. “But you? You know that this world’s a stupid, cruel, cold place, full of people that are as likely to stab you in the back as they are to shake your hand and give you a smile. And you’re more than ready to do the stabbing if you have to. You’re the one who sees things as they are.”

“Except when I don’t,” Alice said, watching as a tentacle poked its way through a hole in the ceiling. “Though I suppose I should take a compliment when it is offered. But what exactly is your point here, Nessa? I know you have one, even if it’s just hidden in your cloak.”

“My point is that you should be smart enough to know that getting personally involved with your crew is only going to lead to trouble,” Nessa said, shaking her head. “You can’t trust them that far, no matter what they might whisper in your ear in the middle of the Names. It’s common knowledge that Roric and Lyssa were lovers before she tore his belly open and dumped him in Ratblood Canal so she could get the Crows all to herself. Less common that Mylera of the Red Sashes used to be a spy in the Lampblack ranks, and seduced a few secrets out of Baz himself before running back to her own to destroy him. And don’t get me started on what happened between the Billhooks’ Tarvul and his wife before she ended up in Bellweather Crematorium and he in Ironhook Prison…” She huffed. “Point is, this city is rife with idiots who took a chance on getting close to their fellow scoundrels, and paid the price. And I see the way you look at your crew, and – I know you’re gonna get hurt.” She sighed, letting her arms drop. “Van Dort grew up rich, Alice – the minute he thinks he’s got enough Coin to get back into proper society, he’s going to ditch you without a second thought. And Alton – I bet you you’re never more than one too many frowns away from being stuck with a syringe and dragged back to their headquarters to get your head ‘corrected.’ Maybe you three work well enough together now, but – you can’t trust ‘em to treat you right.”

“I see.” Alice hung the towel back on its little hook. “Is that your entire piece?”

“Yeah,” Nessa nodded. “Just had to get it out there.”

“Excellent.” Alice took a moment to brush her hair back from her face –

Then, before Nessa could move an inch, she slammed the woman up against the wall, putting her knife against her throat. “Here’s mine then – keep your fucking nose out of my fucking business,” she hissed. “You think Victor wants to go back to a life where the weight of his parents’ expectations made him miserable? You think Smiler doesn’t care enough about me to know that getting me high on Joy Serum is the worst way to make me happy? You honestly think I’m stupid for daring to fall in love with the first two people who ever actually treated me like I was a person and not just a broken simulacrum of one? You don’t know anything about us, then. And I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself in future.”

Nessa stared at her, eyes wide and breathing hard – and, judging by the sudden smell, no longer with a need to go to the toilet. Alice released her and tucked her blade away again. “Good talk,” she said simply, then headed back out into the Ball & Socket.

As she’d expected, Victor and Smiler were still at their table, finishing off their food. “Was that Nessa that just followed you into the bathroom?” Smiler asked as she sat back down again. “Thought I recognized her braid.”

“It was,” Alice confirmed. “We just had a rather illuminating chat.”

“Oh?” Victor said, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. “What about?”

Alice responded by grabbing his tie and pulling him in for a kiss. “About how she’s an arsehole who thinks you two are idiots and I’m an idiot for being in love with you,” she said after releasing him. “And how, if she doesn’t believe a crew can trust each other enough to be together more – intimately than normal, that’s not my problem.”

“Uh – ah – oh,” Victor said, blinking as his brain tried to catch up. “I – I see. I think.”

“I definitely see – that was rude of her,” Smiler said, defying their name by frowning. “I mean, sure, probably what we have together isn’t conventional for a crew, but – I like what we’ve got.”

“Me too,” Victor agreed, before leaning over to give Smiler a quick kiss, apparently worried they’d feel left out otherwise. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been with you two.”

Alice smiled at them, taking both their hands in hers. “I feel the same. And trust me, Nessa knows that very well now.” She glanced over to where the Gray Cloaks were huddled, looking a bit nervous about how their leader hadn’t come out of the bathroom yet. “So – no offering our services to help them gather more evidence about how they were framed right now?”

“Hell no,” Smiler said succinctly. “Maybe the Lost could use our help instead – I heard that they’ve got a vendetta against the owner of the Cordelia Furniture factory now...”