#whats their polyship name??

[devondespresso]

Wiggy Wednesday🧠🪱 - A Robin (Buckley) Hood au

tagged by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @shares-a-vest and @hotluncheddie Thanks guys!!! 💕🫂💝

continue-the-game tags at the bottom, you guys absolutely don't have to read this whole thing for it, it won't hurt my feelings cause this thing got long sgnxgnxnh

💚>> EDIT: @carolperkinsexgirlfriend expanded on the aro robin thing and its literal perfection!! <<💚

tbh the past few days ive felt like i was loosing my spark a bit (could be a medication thing now that i think about it) so the plans for today are to rewatch some really damn good motion pictures, feel some emotions probably, and go from there.

having said that, i was able to put together a fun little idea about Robin Stranger Things as Robin Hood, Steve and Little John, either Vickie or Chrissy as Maid Marian. Chrissy would fit the secretly badass princess type very well, thinking princess peach in the mario movie, while vickie would be slightyyy more tough girl princess, thinking fiona from the first shrek. I'm not like a huge fan of slapping character names into roles just because, so i think most antagonists would be of the robin-hood-world and some might get left out. Dustin and Erica would be there, possibly as merry men, or i also think itd be cool to mix another vaguely-medieval story that fits the kids group better, have it be something in the backstory or future or something like a story living in the edges of this one. Eddies also an easy fit as the minstrel and could be tied to chrissy's story too if you want

im not planning on writing anything for it, but the story ideas that are jumping out to me rn are mostly characters meeting/origin stories. Steve and Robin meet early on in her outcastery, Robin in jail for stealing and Steve also locked up close by either for something outrageously stupid or something definitely illegal but for the sake of his little brother and friends. They swap stories and then swap even more jokes and fun banter. Either Robin loops him in on her plan to break out, or Dustin and Erica come to break Steve out during her escape and they all team up. Maybe a little part where they visit Dustin and friends, let him know Steve's fine even tho him and Robin are fugitives, maybe Dustin tries to follow them but they have to send him back until he's old enough to move out, an emotional "we're not gone forever" talk, concluding with Robin and Steve heading off to camp in the woods and figure out what's next. maybe robin comes out here, maybe steve had confessed and whatnot similar to the show, maybe robin just needed to establish that she's not into him before they started adventuring just the two of them. Maybe she mentions her future plans, to stay firmly on the laws bad side, maybe to reunite with the lady she found at the edge of palace gardens, something that would make the road alongside her rougher than his already will be, and Steve chooses to join her anyway.

also a romantic subplot with Chrissy or Vickie.

if its chrissy, i think itd go similarly to the disney movie (relative to vickie's anyway), chrissy has her princessy life and through circumstance (maybe an archery contest, maybe they run into each other, probably a combination of run-ins) they meet and are into each other, maybe Robin crossdresses and after she's revealed to be a girl Chrissy's head over heels, maybe Chrissy runs away, maybe robin wins her favor, lots of fun princess tropes to play with.

with vickie, i keep leaning into the Fiona-style angle where she very much doesn't care to be in a royal setting, not rejecting femininity just spinning the princess archetype on its head. So maybe she's a runaway, maybe she rescued herself, or maybe she faked her death or something extreme, and she runs into robin (maybe robins disguised and she looks extra rougish, maybe vickie had only heard bad stories about her) and they fight. if vickie wins she notices in her victory robins actual personality, realizes shes not aggressive like expected and they talk, and if robin wins she does a mercy thing, maybe disarms her to get enough time to run off and vickies like 🤨mysterious🤨 or they spark up conversation. Maybe part of Robins group comes in either ready to defend her or diffuse the situation and their appearance soon splits the fight. lots and lots to play with. one way or another vickie tags along or joins the group, she and robin fall in love, yippee

aaaand third option: polyarmory, where chrissy joins the group first, they run into vickie second, and the three of them fall in love.

fourth option: aro robin (lol get it. cause. arrows.) who picks up princesses (plus steve too) like its her job and those princesses fall in love

r*nance (* for search because this isn't exactly abt them, NOT to be a dick about it) could work too ig but its not my jam so im not diving into that angle

i also love the idea of expanding robins relationship with any of the kids (Dustin and especially Erica, because scoops troop has solid character dynamic potential thats barely touched. Robin and Max too, and it'd make sense to bring in Lucas too with his ties to both Erica and Max)

if this gives anyone else brainworms and you want to write it, absolutely go for it, i know im definitely not going to sit down and write scenes or anything for it, and if you're comfortable tag me so i can read it!!

_

for Wiggy Wednesday im tagging (no pressure ofc): @starry-eyed-steve @marvel-ous-m @lightoftheseraph @pearynice @puppy-steve

@tinytalkingtina @dreamwatch @flowercrowngods @withacapitalp @writing-kiki

@queenie-ofthe-void @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @eriquin @hairstevington @sunflowerharrington

@imfinereallyy @sourw0lfs

[vvickydisc]

before you is yuri, yaoi and het but ill never tell you which is which

[pageofheartdj]

Angel Dust: Imma spend a day with dommy daddy. Get to know him closer~

Husk: Please do not fuck Charlie's dad.

Angel Dust: We'll see about that 😏👉👉

*later*

Husk: Well. You are alive, so that's reassuring. So how was it?

Angel Dust: *stunned* Husk. Husk, Huskie. He is an absolute dork and a fucking sweetheart what the FUCK.

Husk: Uh.

Angel Dust: *grabs Husk's shoulders and looks at him with a familiar glint in the eye* Need.

Husk: Angel-

Angel Dust: He is a King of Hell and I wanna ruin that man, Husk.

Husk: Ah fuck.

[moths-in-hats]

Moodboard: chris x derek x jordan

For @teenwolfrarepairevents character of the month

[zeddpool]

I have no explanation for this, just that I've shipped some of these since I was 8 years old

Fantastic Polycule for your consideration

[bluerose5]

Look, look, look. All I'm saying is, we needed more of that same energy from Origins and 2 when the protag had opportunities to have a threesome (and potential foursome in Origins). I'm not even gonna look at Inquisition because as much as I love that game, a lot of the mature content felt kind of watered-down(?) in comparison to the two previous games. Anyways, all of this to say that the option should have definitely been there with Anders, Nathaniel, and Hawke.

[sillydeimos]

Ship requests.... Polycombat

-💻🌌

is polycombat specifically status quo, and if so does it include doc because its kinda confusing to me still

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Polyship Week 2024, Day Two: “Blorbo Has Two Hands” (Soulmate AU)

It's Day Two of Valicer Polyship Week 2024, "sponsored" by @polyshipweek, and today's prompt is "Blorbo Has Two Hands!" This prompt, as per PolyshipWeek's write-up on the matter, is all about "The rallying cry of polyshippers everywhere: Why have a love triangle when you can have a trio of lovers instead?" and how the polycule makes love, not war. This is naturally an excellent prompt, but I wasn't sure whether I was going to use it or one of the other ones when it came to writing a story for Day Two --

Aaaand then Wednesday, November 6th happened. And after rather a lot of time spent staring at the prompts with no inspiration because I was still feeling kind of numb inside over the fucking election results, I came back to the list right before going to bed, looked at "Blorbo Has Two Hands" again, and thought, "You know what, I can probably do something with that and my Soulmates AU -- specifically, someone doubting the trio are all actually soulmates because multiple soulmates isn't a common thing in that verse." So I drafted out a story about Smiler, working at a bar post-the trio fleeing England to avoid the wrath of Kelman, the wrath of Victor's parents, and possibly the wrath of the police after Alice killed Bumby, getting harassed by a customer who didn't believe them when they said that both they and Alice were Victor's soulmates -- only to get proven wrong when said soulmates showed up to find out why Smiler was suddenly feeling so upset. It was pretty rough, but I figured it worked for the prompt --

And then I went, "Hang on...didn't I just do something like this yesterday?" For indeed, this story was rather similar, at least in general theme, to the "Alice vs Nessa" Valicer In The Dark tale I wrote for Day One. But given my mental state at the time, I couldn't come up with anything better for Day Two. So I left it be and gave myself a choice -- either try to write a different story later, or lean into the theme and do a Victor-POV story of some jerk inserting their nose into the polycule's business and getting theirs for Day Three.

...given the story I'm about to present is the "Smiler gets harassed by a customer about whether or not multiple soulmates is a thing" story, you can probably guess what I chose. XD For now, here is your Day Two story! Sorry it took a bit to get there! XD

--

“So – Mister Van Dort over there is your soulmate?”

“Yup,” Smiler confirmed, smiling over at the table where Victor was currently involved in what looked like a rather intense conversation with Alice, his hands flying all over the place as they spoke. “We met at one of his parents’ parties – ended up in the same corner together, started commiserating over the fact that we both hated stuffy social gatherings, went to formally introduce ourselves by shaking hands, and – well.” Smiler grinned down at their own hands, currently drying a glass. “Suddenly the party was that much better.”

“I see,” their current customer – a fellow named Robert, who apparently ran a woodworking shop in town – murmured, nursing his third whiskey. “And Missus Van Dort is – all right with that?”

Smiler tilted their head. “Er – yes. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Robert raised an eyebrow at Smiler. “Because – she’s his wife?” he said slowly, as if they were an idiot. “And would likely want to be her husband’s soulmate?”

“Oh, there’s no problem there,” Smiler said brightly, putting away the dried glass. “She’s also his soulmate.”

Robert blinked at them. It was a pretty long blink. “What?”

“Alice is also Victor’s soulmate,” Smiler repeated obligingly. “We’ve got a bit of a thing going on.”

“You’re – but – that’s impossible,” Robert insisted, leaning heavily on the bar.

“It’s not,” Smiler said, mentally preparing their usual speech. “It’s rare, yes, but–”

“Balderdash,” Robert cut in, putting a finger in Smiler’s face. “People can only have the one soulmate. Otherwise, what’s the point of them?”

Now it was Smiler’s turn to blink. “What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about how the whole point of a soulmate is that they are the person that the universe has ordained as the most important one in your entire life,” Robert said, warming to his topic. “The relationship beyond which all others pale. The one twinned to the very center of your being! If you were given more than one, then – then it would cheapen that bond. Make it – make it lesser. It wouldn’t be about finding your perfect match – it would be about finding someone you just kind of like more than the rest. A person only has room in their soul for one soulmate. It’s simple fact.”

“It’s not,” Smiler insisted. “There’s been studies done on the bond, and–”

“Oh, studies,” Robert said derisively, grabbing his drink and taking a big swig. “Yes, everyone appreciates a study. As if any scientist really knows how to measure a soul.” He looked Smiler up and down. “And what do you know about studies? You’re a bartender.”

“My father’s an alienist,” Smiler said, wrinkling their nose against the bitter taste in their mouth produced by even obliquely mentioning Kelman. “And I study chemistry in my spare time. I’m not an idiot just because I pour drinks for a living.”

“No – you’re an idiot for letting your soulmate get married to someone else,” Robert retorted, attempting to poke Smiler’s arm – they jerked it out of the way just in time. “Shame on you for that. He’ll never be able to be a proper husband to his wife if you’ve already taken up that space in his soul! Everyone knows that people who have soulmates that are just friends have to remain single. It’s the natural order of things!” He took another drink. “Cruel of you both to lead that poor woman on. She should be off trying to find her actual soulmate, not being – taken advantage of by two horrible monsters like yourselves.”

Smiler opened their mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Closed it again. Where the hell were their words right when they needed them most? Alice had once said they could talk their way out of a murder scene while holding a bloody knife, and now they couldn’t refute one drunk?! One deeply annoying drunk who’d hit pretty much every nerve in their body, sure, but… “I...you…”

“Smiler?”

Smiler and Robert both looked over to see Victor and Alice approaching, wearing identical expressions of concern. “Is everything all right?” Victor continued, picking at the knot of his tie. “You – you feel quite upset about something.”

“Very deeply annoyed indeed,” Alice added, giving Robert a suspicious glare. He smartly shrank away. “Is this fellow bothering you?”

“Yes, but he might not be for much longer,” Smiler said, smirking. “You were saying about how people can only have one soulmate?”

Robert looked between the three of them, visibly processing the fact that Alice too had felt Smiler’s emotions. “I – but – she – you?” he stammered, clearly having trouble collecting his thoughts.

“All three of us,” Smiler said, leaning on the bar. “Two romantic bonds and one platonic one, and all very real. And even if we weren’t all soulmates – so what? I think Victor would still have enough love in him to handle both his wife and me.” They put on an innocent stare. “Unless you’re saying that nobody can care about anyone but their soulmate? Because that sounds like a pretty lonely and miserable life to me.”

Robert stared at them for a moment more. Then he reached into his pocket, plonked some coins on the bar, and fled out the door. The trio watched him stumble away on wobbly legs. “...so I guess he didn’t believe you when you told him we were all soulmates,” Victor finally said.

“He did not, and decided to give me a big old lecture about it,” Smiler said, scooping up the money and counting it. “Okay, good, this is what he owed...anyway, it was all about how ‘multiple soulmates cheapens the bond’ and ‘if your soulmate is your best friend you need to remain single’ and nonsense like that.” They shook their head as they put the money away. “Who comes up with those things?”

“Arses,” Alice said succinctly.

Victor and Smiler both snorted. “Well put,” Victor said, then laid a hand on Smiler’s wrist. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t feel at all that having both you and Alice as soulmates has cheapened anything. If anything I feel – I feel blessed. I had trouble believing sometimes when I was younger that I was worthy of one soulmate, let alone two.” A bright smile split his face. “And now look at me. Tied forever to the two most wonderful people in the world.”

Smiler beamed, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I feel exactly the same. Two bonds just means twice the love to spread around.”

“Well said,” Alice said, putting her hand over theirs. “Hopefully someday people will understand that better.”

“Mmm. Until then…” Smiler leaned in and gave Victor a quick peck, before shooting Alice a grin. “I’ll just enjoy what we’ve got.”

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

I have finished opla and i must know: what are all the ship names

[alien-slushie]

So I had this really funny/sweet Fairy Tail fanfiction idea. It definitely happens in early fairy tail before even the 7 year time skip or very soon there after, also it's LuVia(lucy x juvia) but hear me out!

Lucy is tired of Juvia thinking she's after Gray. She just wants Juvia to stop thinking she's a love rival so that they can become closer friends. So one day while Juvia is going on about Lucy being a rival Lucy cuts her off.

"The truth is Juvia, I'm not your love rival. I'm Gray's! This whole time it's you I've been in love with!"

And the whole guild is so confused but also so intrigued and invested.

"I haven't said anything because your love for Gray is so strong, and I'd be more than happy just being your friend, if you'd have me!"

Juvia gets flustered and flees. She has a lot to think about.

It would either end with platonic Juvia and Lucy becoming friends, Juvia kicking Gray to the cub and fawning all over Lucy, or Juvia fawning over both Lucy and Gray in polyship sort of way.

Ngl the last option is my favorite because Gray and Lucy have such a good friendship and the idea of them dealing with Juvia's huge amount of love together is the best thing ever to me. Also, Juvia seeing Natsu as her new love rival is amazing!

[nejackdaw]

Now That You've Lost Tomorrow (is yesterday still a friend?)

4.2k words of the Celann backstory in my head

Under the cut for length; not NSFW. Also leave my Jimminy Cricket ass alone, I was thinking about Disney narrators when I started this lmao. It wasn't supposed to be an actual piece send help

Ahem. (Tw animal death) (tw gore) [Minor edits made 8/28/24 and 12/27/24 (spelling)]

Born in the Northmoor of Breton High Rock, Celann aged to be a fine man. With a lively, happy home, he was a handsome, good natured jokester with a penchant for bringing smiles wherever he went. Be it through mischief at home, exaggerated peacocking (resulting in clumsy accidents) in front of his beloved fiancee, charitable work through the town, or the song on his lips, he was an easygoing presence that had endeared himself to the people around him. Life was good and grand: he had an easy, do nothing guard job in a happy little town to bring in coin, plans to settle down and start a family, and wanted for nothing between it all. But things started to change when his elder sister prepared to set off on her apprenticeship–dark winds blew in that he, that none of them, would ever recover from.

It was an adjustment for everyone with Jehanne recently absent; she'd been gone only a week, but the absence of fabric scraps and 'come look at this for me's, the messily kept tomes and quills that dripped ink, the prospect of not hearing another "you're being ridiculous, it's been weeks! Come join us for dinner!" and her high pitched, victorious cackles as she raced away, knowing she'd magically cleared up everyone's schedules by asking–she'd only been gone a week, but it felt an awfully lot longer than that. Celann kept up with his guard work in her absence and Charlotte, ever interested in his sister's seamstress and design work, had taken up the hobby when she wasn't keeping the ledger at Garnier's, insisting someone had to be leaving fabric in a house somewhere in Jehanne's absence–to balance things out, obviously, as all good magic is supposed to be.

Time passed this way for another week or so as everyone tried to reassure themselves that everything was fine; it was a large change, but they'd known for months, and they'll settle into this new normal soon and everything would be fine. But suddenly news came whispering through the streets of strange shadows passing by windows at night, shadows with no one to cast them, and soon enough the guards were being asked to look out for missing pets, small cats and birds that must have gotten loose.

Small cats and birds that were found far from their homes and butchered, torn apart but not eaten.

An uneasiness settled over the town as more and more of the creatures turned up, and "killer" was on everyone's lips. After a few weeks of disappearances and gory resurfaces, they began tapering off until they stopped entirely. Like any predator: from small prey to large–the guards instructed woodsmen and hunters, trappers and fur traders to keep an eye out in the woods for anything that didn't look like an animal had gotten to it first. It took only two days after the order was given for a horrified hunter to return with news of a torn, gaunt elk carcass, black with rot around the edges of the worst wounds. Next it was a boar, then a doe–then nothing once again.

Celann was tasked with joining patrols, increased in the wake of the animal attacks until investigators, who so far had found no leads towards what everyone assumed to be a fledgling serial killer, could find some hint as to what had been happening. Everyone waited anxiously for the inevitable first victim.

It came only a month after the shadow appeared.

Following loud, panicked shouts, Celann stumbled into an alleyway to find something hardly recognizable as human. It was pale, even for a corpse, and gaunt like the beasts had been–ripped apart and stained black at the edges, wounds rotting prematurely. He covered his mouth and looked away as he desperately fought against the thick, burning bile at the back of his throat, side stepping into a puddle of dried blood to let a more senior guard pass by.

When everything had been documented, after the corpse had been covered and the area sealed off–more for the townspeople's sake than the scene's–and they were given permission to leave, Celann headed immediately to the blacksmith, grateful for the harsh, painful way the smell and smoke of the forge cleaned the blood and rot from his lungs. He left with three sturdy daggers, weapons he grimly pressed into his family's hands as he made them swear to carry it with them. The protests died on all their lips when they saw the fear in his eyes, each taking it with the same gravity Celann presented it with and solemnly promising they would.

After only three days, there was another disappearance; another corpse, butchered and rotting unnaturally. He'd never possessed the same gift for magic most of his people did, but Celann knew enough–knew to fear the third and what it would bring, because there was no way this terror was only a man and threes were either a blessing or a curse. In the end, it was both.

When he stumbled on the third victim, it hardly occured to him that the man had anything at all to do with the last horrifying, supernatural month. He wasn't torn open like everything before, the ground wasn't coated in blood and viscera. He looked almost like someone who'd been lucky and gone in his sleep somehow–but when Celann knelt down to check if he was alive, he startled to see familiar jewelry and recognized the gaunt corpse of the book seller from around the block. His wedding band sat at an angle around a finger too small for the old, tarnished metal, and when Celann reached for his wrist to get a better look he touched something slimy and cold.

He distantly registered someone from the patrol calling out his name as he stared down at the red on his fingers, a steadily growing urge filling him with every beat of his heart to smear it off on the rough stones beneath him until his own blood ran hot and quick and erased the feeling forever. He clenched his fist instead–looked over at the boots beside him and pretended he hadn't just terrified himself as a second guard knelt with him to inspect the body.

It was Simon who found the most important thing the body had to tell them; Celann was busy wiping the blood off on his trousers and trying to get his mind working right again. A frantic tap on his shoulder got his attention and he looked up into Simon's wide, terrified eyes before slowly turning his head to see what he'd found. The gloved hand gripping the corpse's jaw slowly retreated, shaking, and Celann looked down to see two frighteningly neat holes at the side of the neck.

They shared a long, quiet look before Celann reached out again for the merchant's hand, praying desperately he didn't dig his fingers into disgustingly smooth, exposed flesh again as he avoided gripping the wrist to turn it around. Torn and bloodied, but the black edges were smaller this time. Cleaner, neater, less noticable.

They raced away burdened with news of a vampire preying on the town, searching desperately for the commander and whatever investigators they could find.

/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/

The city was placed under curfew immediately after the news arrived, and patrols were focused for the dark and evening hours. Everyone was required inside and with at least one companion; a vampire could easily overpower a pair, but the hope was that, with no lone targets, it would resent the effort it would take to target anyone else. Guards were similarly paired and ordered not to stray from one another–the only souls out in the night needed to be vigilant. Celann thought about the daggers he'd bought his family, thought about Charlotte taking Jehanne's room at home without him there in the night to share their bed. He wondered what good those knives would be, what good his sword would do him, if the beast got insistent.

Heavy tension hung over the town for weeks after the news arrived. Curtains were drawn and lights were left burning outside as people hoped the creature would pass them by. Every sound was investigated.

After a week, after two, after a month… there was nothing. No pets, no woodland beasts, no disappearances.

The dread started to lighten as time passed, and after four weeks of no new attacks, the townsfolk had, to a degree, returned to life as normal. They were still sure to make it home before night properly fell, still kept a light on, but as the days went by there seemed to be a collective feeling that it had all been a nightmare, some trick of Vaermina.

Celann noted three absences with every pass through the town.

Nightmares didn't claim lives, and he worried at how quickly everyone let themselves believe any danger had passed. The bookshop was closed for a week, what with the owner being dead; he and Lotte liked to buy each other occasional gifts from there, and the darkness in the windows–always warmly lit and welcoming before–never failed to stir a sense of dread in him.

But then a second month was passing without any sort of attack, patrols returned to normal, and even Celann let himself relax. With how often the beast had attacked before, there was no way it would sit and wait for months. The town had been on alert and anything it would have hunted locked inside, but even the forests nearby had been spared. It had surely moved on at this point to easier prey, or either fled in order to avoid detection, he reasoned.

That reasoning was why he accepted the promotion offered to him: an easy, quiet job out at the watchtower, not too far from town and coming with a pay increase; he'd be replacing someone who quit, understandably, in light of the vampire attacks while they had been happening. The new station was a bit of a trek from the gates, at the edge of the forest, but the road was usually quiet enough and the pay was enticing so he agreed. Fresh air, new faces–it sounded like a nice change of scenery, anyway.

It took a few mornings–early, dark, quiet–to adjust to all the rustling, and Perrette teased him for it, but they got on well and she explained their duties simply and easily. They arrive at midnight and they're relieved around breakfast, and spend their downtime chatting or pretending they weren't falling back asleep. Celann never bothered her when she did, and she returned the favor when he was half asleep, half awake, never quite able to properly sleep in the tower.

It was early, a week or so after he'd started, and he was tired; he'd been resting with his head pillowed on his arms at his desk, lost in that dark, semi conscious haze. There wasn't anyone out at this hour, with the moon still so high, and he paid no mind when he hadn't heard Perrette for what should have been a suspiciously long time. She was probably playing cards and he was just resting, after all, not falling asleep like his coworker did. If anything popped up they could handle it.

Just resting is why one eye opened blearily at a sound outside, a sound Celann had only half heard and had already forgotten by the time he was looking at candlelit paperwork. He kept it open a bit longer, listening for any other sounds, then let his eyes close again, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. Nothing, just the dark and the quiet–but as the seconds passed something settled heavy in his chest, had suspicion creeping into his head, and he sat up to look around.

Nothing. Just the dark and the quiet. He slowly stood from his chair and breathed deep, waking himself up as he glanced around the inside of the watchtower. Perrette wasn't at the window, there was no humming or the sound of cards, like he'd expected. The deck was, however, still out on the windowsill, game partially through, and when he moved closer he spotted a few that had blown outside. A familiar dread settled over him as he looked down at them, caught in flower stems and other growth that kept them from blowing farther away.

The moon was still high. Perrette was not here. She was not with the cards she carried in a little box as a gift from her lover, hand drawn with curling letters on the back. It was quiet. It was… unnaturally still, Celann realized. He stared out through the window at the road as his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. He listened. Something moved in the undergrowth behind the station and he quietly crept his way to the–open–back door.

A black hare greeted him at the threshold, a bloody, mangled carcass with its white ribs exposed to the moonlight. The smell of rot hit him and his face twisted; his sword scraped against the sheath as he drew it.

Vampire.

Celann didn't know where Perrette was, what had happened to her, but he doubted the beast would leave a display if it wasn't waiting. It hadn't left. He stared out into the woods and swallowed, listening and hearing nothing. Nothing. His heart beat a terrified rhythm behind his ribs as he stepped outside, stepping carefully over the carcass and into the night, heading hesitantly for the woodline.

He'd hardly stepped through, heel snapping dead leaves and trampling plants–sound, something BURSTING forward, a scream–

He managed to put an arm between them, elbow digging into their chest, pain, hot, claws and yellow eyes. His heel slid back in the dirt as the creature strained against him, screaming and snarling and gnashing bloody teeth inches from his face. The hot smell of blood and decay hit him in the face and suddenly there was a fist in his hair, pulling painfully and jerking his head to the side–it vanished as soon as it appeared and Celann watched the vampire stumble back, face twisted in betrayal.

His own twisted to mirror it as he stared at the disfigured visage of his sister.

Jehanne.

She was clutching one of her hands as if injured, and he noticed a small, circular brand pressed into the heel of her palm. The shape of his earring, a small piece of silver resting by his jaw.

Those two moments stretched into forever then minutes suddenly blurred–claws, pain, BEGGING, being thrown, his shoulders slamming into a tree.

Celann blinked blood from his eyes and raised himself onto a shaking arm, catching his breath as he reached for his sword. He noticed she'd torn through his sleeves; the cloth was dark and sticky with blood, and he could feel the edge of his mouth throbbing, the skin around his lips torn open with a nasty downward swing of her claws. Jehanne was pacing agitatedly, glaring down at him and spitting to herself as he pushed himself to sit in the undergrowth. His head was throbbing dizzyingly, shoulders on fire from the impact, and he could feel something hot and wet snaking its way through the short hairs at the back of his neck.

Celann staggered to his feet, leaning against the tree for support, and let out a shuddering breath as he held his sword in front of him. Trying to evaluate.

She wasn't uninjured herself, not that it did him any good; he'd mangled one of her wrists and she'd still thrown him like a doll. He'd cut and sliced and stabbed and she was standing all the same, and they shared a mutual look of despair. Some mix of emotions flashed across her face, faintly illuminated by what moonlight breached the canopy, bright eyes wide as her lips were parting and she was clawing at her face, fangs glistening, then– "But we're family!" she wailed

The world went quiet.

Realization hit him, then. Cold blood. The world became the woman in front of him. He couldn't let her leave. Horror. Couldn't let her live. Agony. She'd kill them all. Kill her first.

He wondered how many times his sister must have crept past their windows, how many nights she must have watched him from the forest. Family. She'd kill him if it meant turning him, kill them all if he couldn't stop her.

Jehanne took a step forward and spread her arms invitingly, one wrist hanging at a sickening angle. Another step when he didn't immediately move, a sweet smile on her face, then lunged–steel and blood and pain and screams. He couldn't hesitate, couldn't go easy anymore. Blood flew from his blade as he drove it into her heart–vampires need to be stabbed in the heart–once, twice, a third time. He staggered back and tensed, waiting for her to somehow still be moving, dizzy with blood loss and buzzing with adrenaline.

He distantly watched her head slump against the ground, face half pressed into the dirt; glowing yellow eyes went dim and returned to a familiar brown. He watched, paradoxically, as she regained some color, despite being dead. Dead. He looked at glassy eyes and felt far away. Trees and green growth and blood splatters came back into view, but it was someone else's view, someone else's eyes. They laughed, whoever it was, desperate and manic, and dropped his sword as he stared at his sister's corpse. Something was screaming about it, somewhere inside him, but it was far away and muffled, a mile away.

Celann stumbled on suddenly weak legs towards the nearest tree and let himself collapse to the ground against it, staring at her face until it blurred. Everything blended together, and all he knew was that he was cold. He distantly remembered he was bleeding, but the thought vanished almost instantly into the gentle fog that was clouding his mind. He shivered, he thinks, and then thinks nothing else as he sits on the forest floor beneath the moon for hours.

He doesn't register Perrette stumbling out of the watchtower, only partially realizing she was yelling at him at all, even as she knelt beside him. He came back to himself when someone was snapping incessantly in his face, when irritation managed to stir him into some faint awareness. Simon was kneeling in front of him, eyes wide with fear as he gestured at the people around him. They descended upon him, quiet and gentle as they hauled him to his feet, and as he was half dragged, half helped back to town, all Celann really noticed was that it was morning. The sky was a pale, misty yellow–sunrise. Morning. The night was over. The night was over but he would live with what happened in the dark forever.

/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/

He had nightmares every time he managed to fall asleep, shepherded into the temple to be healed and watched over. Breathing was difficult and he assumed he was dying; he was only a little concerned at how okay with that he was. A stranger visited him on the third day after the Incident and the priestesses allowed her to feed him something from a vial, some liquid miracle that ended the worst of the night terrors and let him breathe easy.

There had been a newly made vampire den nearby, she explained when he woke again, and Jehanne had likely been taken the day she stepped out onto the road. Her voice was factual as she informed the temple they'd all been taken care of, but there was sympathy on her face as she looked down at the shadows under his half vacant eyes. She hunted vampires–and other daedra–she'd said as she left; there was something he didn't like in her tone, something knowing, as she closed the door behind her and told him she'd be staying in town for a month or two.

He was sent back home later that afternoon, back to he and Charlotte's house, but everything felt… strange. He felt like he was intruding on his own space, in his own house, in his own bed. Lotte was being patient, but the pain in her eyes when she looked at him sent a spike through his heart. Blood. Breaking bones. He supposed he deserved it after what he'd done, though even he could tell she very genuinely didn't think less of him for it. But she handled him gently and he missed her smiles, missed making her laugh. That solemn look didn't belong in her eyes.

His parents visited twice, to make sure he was healing alright, but there was a distance between them that had never been there. They'd raised Jehanne for 26 years, their daughter, you killed our daughter, what kind of man kills his own sister? It was never said, of course, but he could see it in the tension on their faces and the stiff way they held themselves near him.

They declined both times to stay for dinner.

Celann couldn't move on. His family thought he was a murderer, his fiancee was no longer living with the man she'd gotten engaged to. Something in bim broke when he thought about it, that they were supposed to be married in a few months. He'd been over the moon about it, wouldn't stop talking about it to anyone who listened, even if they weren't really, but the hush that had fallen over the house as Charlotte gave him the space he'd started needing felt like an ill omen.

Two months passed of feeling like an outsider in his own life and he was saying goodbye to her. She refused to break off their engagement, said he felt guilty and was being stupid, and as he tried to promise not to darken her door again she told him for better or for worse came before the wedding vows and if he didn't at least write to her on his trip with this mystery woman she'd find him and drag him back home like a runaway boy.

It… hadn't been what he'd planned on. He hadn't planned on returning or writing at all, had planned on removing himself entirely, no longer the man she'd intended to marry and pained at how she was caring for him. He hadn't told her about meeting the woman from the temple, either–but people talked and Lotte was good at listening, and he wasn't as surprised as he could have been. He had mixed feelings about the indefinite engagement, but if it was what she wanted he'd let her have it, like she was letting him leave because he needed to. They looked after each other like that.

Perrette, on her part, when he found her at breakfast, immediately told him through a mouthful of jam and toast where the woman from the temple was before standing and pulling him into a hug. She pressed a small wooden box and a dagger into his hands before wishing him well and telling him to hurry, because the stranger had been packing her things last she saw and getting ready to leave.

It turns out she had left, hours ago, but Celann found her waiting expectantly outside the gate just off the road. She was sitting with her own breakfast with a second placement set up for him, and he once again didn't like the knowing look in her eyes as he sat down. She explained, eventually, that she was with the Vigil of Stendarr, and had been sent with two others to investigate rumors of vampires in the area. Jehanne had been an opportune victim, out alone on the road so early in the morning; the vampire had been trying to start a clan and needed bodies to fill the seats.

He'd almost been one of them. It was a matter of hours, apparently.

Again, she assured him they were all dead and asked if he intended to join her and her companions on the road–if he had seen what chaos and danger creatures like vampires pose and wanted to take up arms against them. He didn't answer, and she didn't demand he give one; they ate together in silence again and she didn't comment on the way he'd glance back at the gate every now and then. The guard on duty would give a little wave each time, a sad look on his face, and so Celann looked less and less until he didn't look again at all. He was leaving, after all; something deep in him was different, had shaken him out of the life he'd had, and he was moving on. There wasn't room for whatever he was in the space he'd made for himself anymore.

A few nights later he would untie the ribbon around that little box Perrette had given him, far away from town, and open it to find a clumsily hand drawn set of cards with little messages penned in her handwriting on the back. He turned the fool around to see a scribbled portrait of himself amongst the scrawled decoration; the back of every queen was a rough sketch of Charlotte. He put them gently back in the box, retied the ribbon, and ignored the look Freyja gave him as he slipped it back into his bag.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, again, without a body next to him.

"For those who cherish memories of loved ones, their compassion often conceals the beast. Our compassion compels us to destroy it."

[jackalsraised]

reading thru the baldurs gate 3 char pages since i havent left act one yet like wtf do you MEAN that happens to wyll??????

[xjulixred45x]

I just have a question: WHY DONT WE CHOSE BOTH?

Malleyuu and Aceyuu parallels are the funniest thing ever. Twst said you have 2 options: Teenage bully who can only admit he loves you under the pretense that you assume he's just teasing (he does this often), or Fairy Prince of the dying race who feels a kindred spirit in you because he's so sheltered that he's also basically a newcomer to this world. The other 20 aren't even options for some reason?? 😭

[forsworned]

˗ˏˋcoddling ft. poly!tf141ˎˊ˗

꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ i can't stop, someone stop me jmvksnvjsvn

꒰warning(s)suggested polyship, fluff꒱

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋrequests are openˎˊ˗

"Owwwchhh."

She whined, pouting as she fixated at the pad ofher index finger that was now embellished with a fresh papercut. Johnny chuckled as he gently took her small finger between his large ones and pressed it to his lips. Her lips twitched into a pleased smile as he continued to pepper her finger with kisses. The sound of Simon groaning sent her into a fit of giggles.

"Jealous much?" Johnny teased. Simon only shook his head and rolled his eyes at the mushy display of affection.

"Y'coddle 'er too much. All o'ya." He gestured to the rest of the boys before flipping the page of his book, The Code of the Warrior.

Kyle scoffed. "Y'mean us being sweet to our lass?"

Price crossed his arms, amused with Simon's blase approach on things. Always having a hardened exterior until [name] melted him like a popsicle on a hot pavement. "Aye, maybe y'should take a pointer or two from us."

Simon gave them all a deadpan look before returning back to his book. [name] narrowed her eyes at him before a devilish grin stretched across her lips.

"Si?"

"What?"

"Can you get me an orange?"

"Get y'r own bloody orange."

"Please."

"No."

She pouted at him and continued to stare him down until he felt her gaze burr holes into his brain. He sighed as he slipped a finger into his book to save his place and grabbed an orange from the fruitbowl in the kitchen. The boys surveyed the way Simon caved in so quickly to her request.

As he turned around to come back to his place on the couch, he realized that she was positioned next to the place he was sat at previously. She fluttered her eyelashes up at him with a cutesy smile when he plopped back down onto the cushion. He proceeded to hand it to her.

"Here."

"Can you peel it for me?" She urged. "Please."

He narrowed his eyes at her, feeling his temple twitching at her bratty behavior. He deeply inhaled as he quickly peeled the orange, the citrusy scent filling in the living room as he made a small pile of the peel on the coffee table beside them. He popped a slice into his mouth before handing it to her.

"Bloody hypocrite!" Johnny barked out a laugh.

"Jus' admit that y'enjoy coddlin' 'er too!" Kyle exclaimed, pointing at Simon who didn't seem to give two fucks that he had been caught redhanded.

He ignored their jeering and jesting as he played with the strands of her hair as she enjoyed the orange he peeled just for her. She giggled as she peeked over at Price who was looking at her in admiration, satisfied with the tactics she was implementing to bring Simon out of his shell while simulatenously getting a rise out of Kyle and Johnny.

He shook his head at her with a doting grin while mouthing, "Little minx."

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Puppy Love 2: Fanfiction

Cherri: Hey, Fuckheads! (Waves her phone in the air) Didja see that someone's been writing cringy fanfiction about the hotel and its occupants?!

Angel: What?! No way! Send us a link to the page! I gotta see this!

Cherri: (puts the user link in the Hazbin group chat)

Angel: Whoa-ho-hoa! What's with some of these ships?! NifftyDust?! Who pairs me with Niffty?! They also got me with Pen's Egg Bois!

Niffty: Awwww, I was hoping it would be with that bad boy at the club! Oh! I'm in a polyship with the Vees!

Cherri: Ha! StaticRadio is another big one for this writer. Never would have thought Vox and Alastor would be a mutual pining.

Alastor: (glitches out) What did you say???? (Peers over Cherri's shoulder) Oh, Zestial and Carmine are a ship, and they also put me with Rosie. That's not so bad.

Cherri: (reading one of the three Explicit rated works) Even if Rosie is pegging you with her ex-husband's dick?

Alastor: (Wendigo screeches echo through the hotel)

Husker: Why am I the hotel slut????? This guy's got me paired with literally everyone in the hotel!!!

Charlie: ......Everyone?

Husker: Even you, Princess. (Slams a bottle of Everclear) I need to forget I ever read this.

Lucifer: WHO PAIRED ME WITH SERA?!?!?!?! Who the Unholy Hell is Carmilla Carmine?! I'm paired with her, too!!!

Cherri: Awwwww~ I'm mostly paired up with Pentious..... okay, there's one for Angel. (Shrugs) Eh... Not the worst, but still not my thing.

Charlie: They can't be that bad, right? (Checks the page) I'M PAIRED WITH LUTE AND EVE?!?!?!?!?!?! (Scrolls feverishly) I DON'T HAVE A SINGLE WORK WITH VAGGIE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Hazbins: (pause)

Angel: Wait a minute.... (scans through the ships) There ain't a single one of us paired with Vags.

Charlie: (plasters her face to Angel's) Who IS she paired with???

Angel: Some bitch named Emily? (Scrolls) Looks like about half of these fics are Vaggie and Emily.... With one rated E fic, too..... (Taps random fic) "Emily knew this could only end badly, but the way the fallen angel stared at her with a smoldering eye made her go weak at the knees. The two reached out and..." What the fuck??? (squints) "Passionately held hands"???

Charlie: (eyes bleed red as she scrolls up to the Author Name) Who's writing these?

Vaggie: (finally bothering to open the link and reads the page username) "Em-Emmie-E"

Charlie: (eye twitches, and she roars so loud that all of Pride can hear) EMILY!!!!!!!

-Meanwhile: In Heaven-

Emily: (watching Hell like it's the latest episode of Days of Our Lives and taking notes)

EMILY!!!!!!

Emily: (fumbles her notebook) Oh, peach crumble!

[the-zapped-part-timer]

I'm glad that I've grown from disliking Ami and Eva, like geez. What was wrong with younger me? I didn't hate them. I just didn't really like them... I think I just hated women for some reason (gee, I wonder why *eyes family life and self*)? Maybe because Rippen and Larry were my first gay ship... or ship in general that I really cared about. I'm sorry ladies, I didn't mean to take it so personally!

I grew to really enjoy what little screentime we have with them. They deserved more time damnit! Like Eva got two episodes while Ami got one and what basically felt like a cameo in the last episode with Eva.

Anyways I'm gonna think about all of them... living as happily as they all can in the most dangerous world imaginable with the others.... mmmm... the potential.

Mmmmm.... polyship Rippen, Ami, Larry and Eva.... nice thoughts