#they stay underground and pull you under if you walk over them

[carnivalls]

random question but does the world of terras town have any sort of religion

swear i've been sitting on answering this one for literal months now i'm. so sorry! wanted to be in a more tt mood again before replying (i'm still not fully but nostalgia is hitting hard on this friday night. btw).

also yeah! so since tt exists as a refraction (and opposition) of the town right above it, its no surprise that its religion also has similar (and skewed) foundations. considering lev's hometown is largely christian (& catholic), aka structured around a man dying for them, surprise! tt's is all about a woman being killed by them. which actually fits into their general day to day beliefs and attitudes more than you'd think.

so, just as lev's world has Our Lord, tt has Our Lady. and god in their case came from the earths, her divine body both one with the sand and also somehow sleeping deep within it. and in popular mythos, this is how the people of terras also first came to be: chewing and tearing their way free from her flesh, and thus becoming imbued along the way with a small spark of her divinity (aka, their magic). but subsequently, for each new person 'born', god grew weaker, until eventually self preservation rose and she woke up, with the aim to swallow them all back down again and re-become whole. this is the point where the people of terras proceeded to band together and kill her to maintain their lives. bonding activities fr

anyway it's no real surprise that as a result religious virtue in tt is based less around humility and fearing your god, and more about personal pride and surpassing them. terran religion is meant to uplift the self, promote determination and senses of justice, and encourage unity in the face of greater evils, since they are literally all each other have in the middle of this cut off dreambubble wasteland. these beliefs also tie though as to why the council & upper classes in terras generally suppress or hand wave away most religious affairs - last thing they need here is the lower classes to start being like oh shit right, we are so powerful actually, we can take on those corrupt bastards in charge if we all stick together haha!!!. it's not like they'll discriminate or outright prohibit religious displays or holidays, since that tends to only breed fiercer devotion and encourage the unwanted behavior, but for each religious holiday, some other follow up festivity or something will be made to sort of remind people of their power in particular. yk. power that you can actually see and touch and fear. not the general sense of power that allowed us all to hypothetically kill a god once upon a time. so. it's also why they encourage the vitriol and suspicion people in the lower classes have for each other.

unfortunately these attempts have also sort of largely worked, since there is not a lot to be proud of when you're fighting from day to day to survive to the next - or a lot to trust when your neighbor seems keen to stab you in the back. religious people exist in terras, but they're not that frequent (esp amongst The Masses), and are also usually dismissed more as optimists.

anyway past this, there's also some other branches off this primary faith - main sub groups include people who maintain that the Lady willingly let herself be killed instead of being gloriously defeated, and that there is no honor to be found in that kind of victory and that terras town citizens should be repenting for the original sin (sounds more familiar right?) vs people who maintain that the Lady wasn't ever really killed, only pushed back into slumber, and that one day she'll rise again to swallow them all - and that the people of tt must be ready to band together when that happens and truly defeat her for good etc etc. most people in tt find the former group whiny, if not downright heretical if they too are religious (who are you to try and shame us for our proudest and core tenet?), and the second cringe as fuck, plus slightly hererical if we are being picky (the whole point is that she's fucking dead dude).

oh and also there's the breakers. right. forgot about them. they are not connected to religion so much as they are like... the science of terras town, but they're a cult so i guess they sort of count in this section too. basically their full title is the barrier breakers, they think terras and the upper world need to be unified in a great rapture, and that the first sign of this happening will be the two planes 'swapping blood.' & they are going to love lev ❤️

[moondirti]

sorry, this was born out of a need to indulge myself featuring: gaz, ballerina!reader, stalking, intrusive thoughts, delusion, mentioned SA and kidnapping

Kyle first spots you on the Piccadilly line in London's underground.

He's usually wary of public transport – would really rather walk the hour from Knightsbridge to Hammersmith than risk the inevitable unsavoury interaction bound to happen in an overcrowded tube – but it was late at night, he'd just spent his day sitting in a hotel lobby gathering intel for Price, and the idea of ducking down narrow streets in the blistering cold was the last thing he wanted coming to fruition. That's how he ended up in a (thankfully empty) train car anyway; hoodie up and hands stuffed deep into his pockets, thumb brushing over the handle of a switchblade.

He's focused on the shady character stretched across three seats adjacent to him when you happen to prance in. Perhaps prance isn't that accurate an account either, but it's hard to attribute much else to you when you're dressed like a character from one of his sister's childhood storybooks. Angelina ballerina, or something of the sorts – mismatched leg warmers, knitted bolero sleeving a black camisole, basketball shorts over nude-coloured tights, and dance booties that look like little puffer coats for your feet.

The duffel bag slung over your shoulder concerns him briefly – it's hard to look at carryalls the same after serving the military, he finds – but the tired look on your face pacifies any suspicions he might have of your intentions. Wouldn't be wise to execute an offensive when one of your operatives is weary, especially given they're the only agent in sight. Regardless, he's hit with a distinct trepidation that takes a while to name.

You slide past the figure he'd been observing early, hop over Kyle's boots as well, fingers clasped over your behind as if to protect yourself from any wandering hands. The feeling rippling in his chest worsens, yet it's only as you slot yourself onto a far-away seat is he able to recognise it.

You shouldn't be here this late. This isn't the place for you.

With your hair neatly pulled away from your face, he's given full reign to ogle at your darling features. Round cheeks. Hydrated lips. Pretty thing. His molars grind against each other. There are no doubt men on this train that'd want to take advantage of that. Press your mouth open with a thumb on your tongue, rub themselves raw just to see cum decorate your lashes and drip over your brow. Barrack talk, the type of shit he hears floating between his comrades-in-arms when missions drag a little too long. Perversion brought on by desperation.

The intercom dings, and the lady with the soothing voice announces their arrival to Hammersmith. His stop, yet the thought of getting off and abandoning you is enough to keep him stuck to his seat. His stomach upturns as possibilities occur to him like frames in a technicolor film; none pleasant, all ending with you tied up in the trunk of some random van. Some part of him recognises his paranoia, the ridiculousness in his attachment to a perfect stranger (which chides him in a voice eerily similar to Price's, all gruff vowels and whispered consonants), but it does not change the fact that when the doors open to his station, he does not move.

Yeah. He stays on so long as you do – which fortunately is not an extensive length of time. You collect your stuff one stop later, standing to wait at the door once the lady announces Acton Town. He doesn't get up until you're a few seconds out though, slipping through the closing panels of the entryway to follow a few paces behind your heel. Up the escalator and down the block.

The night air nips at his nose, chilling his knuckles so they creak if he curls them. Are your nipples knotted under your layers? Or would they need the help of his fingers to perk up? His throat stiffens. He shakes the thought from his head.

You make a turn. Kyle stops for a second, breathes in, before veering left behind you. Heading towards the west part of town, now. It's a good place to live, all things considered. Still, he wonders if you deadbolt your doors, if you keep yourself safe online. You seem smart, but there are people who won't rest until they get their way. People like the one's he deals with at work – amoral men with biceps that could crush your head. Rotten, horrible men who are only rotten and horrible to cope with the tasks assigned to them. Depraved enemies, depraved friends. Only difference between the two being which flag they fight for.

You throw a look over your shoulder, shoulders shrinking as you wrap your arms tighter across your chest. He looks around, seeking the threat you seem to be so put off by. Nothing but brick-and-mortar storefronts and flattened cigarette butts.

He's compelled by the urge to shush you, to scratch your back as he tells you that there's no need to worry. He'll walk you all the way home. Make sure you get nice and situated, listen for the tell-tale lock of your deadbolt, watch for the dimming of your light. He'll stay until you fall asleep, then walk back to where he came from, take the returning line to Hammersmith – so when he flops back down into his own bed, he'll be reassured by the knowledge that you're safe a mere 4 miles away.

Might take a shower before then, though. Your arse looks great when you're speed-walking like this, pronounced even behind the loose material of your basketball shorts. He hopes the image remains as vivid when he's attending to the heavy mass between his legs later.

Kyle halts right in his tracks.

What is he doing?

You're nearly running now, shrinking away from him at an exponential rate, and duck another corner when you look back to see that he's no longer in pursuit. Completely out of sight.

His Captain’s voice comes to life once more, echoing in the part of his brain he has yet to compartmentalise.

You draw the line wherever you need it, Sergeant.

[shintaru]

Make me sweat, make me hotter | Joker

Nsfw headcanons ♡ taglist ♡ m.list

Warnings: cream pie, unprotected sex, slight choking & spanking, not proof read

Joker has an upcoming fight with another undefeated fighter. This fighter is from the underground fighting ring in England considering how famous he is Wooin & Joker take it as an opportunity to make some money. You overhear Joker telling Wooin he wants 30% of what’s received. “With how much we will make you could have more, this guy is famous” Wooin responds, Joker doesn't reply, he just stays silent. The silence between the two doesn’t last long when you hear Wooin burst out laughing saying “this will be fun” rolling your eyes at your boyfriends crazy friend you head back to the room where Joker prepares for his fights.

The room has a few lockers, a bed for fighters to rest and be patched up after a match, some chairs and a table and lastly some boxing equipment. You’re cleaning his gloves for the match when he walks in. “Are you ready for your match? It starts in a hour an a half” you reply. You can tell with his lack of responses that he’s in his head about this match. He appears calm on the outside he can hide his emotions well besides anger other than that it’s hard to know how he’s feeling. But you’ve known him long enough to know when something is up.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask him. Once again he doesn’t reply. You sigh and walk behind him. You rub his back and say “you know I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong” he stands up turning to face you. “Sleep with me” he says almost demandingly. “A nap before the match sounds good” you reply. “No, I don’t want to take a nap, I want you to have sex with me”

He replies. You burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting that” you say hoping he won’t take offense to your laughter. You give him your consent and he practically drags you over to the bed.

Joker pulls you into a surprisingly soft kiss with how eager he seems to get you under him. Pulling all your clothes off you start to lay down but he interrupts you saying “I want you to sit on my face” you can feel the heat rushing to your face the thought of that position is so embarrassing. You’ve been with Joker for a few years but you still get a little shy in bed. Knowing this Joker doesn’t ever push you into things you don’t want but sometimes he likes experimenting with new positions.

You don’t even know how he got you here. You’re gripping the headboard with your head thrown back moaning his name. A name not many get to call him. Your thighs are caging his face beneath you his hands are on your hips gripping them tightly holding you in place. He is sucking on your clit dragging his tongue over your most sensitive parts. Earning many moans and praises from you. He picks up the pace a little, making you moan. “J I’m close” you tell him. He guides your hips back and forth on him so now you’re grinding on his face. Grabbing and pulling on his hair you cum on his tongue with a loud moan. “Hajun” is all you can get out feeling him clean up the mess you made all over his face.

He then tells you to get on your knees. You do so watching him undress admiring his toned well built body. He is now in nothing but his underwear standing in front of you. You help him take his underwear off looking up at him towering above you. You take his cock in your hand feeling his thickness. He tells you to suck on his cock. You lick the precum off his tip slowly taking half his length in your mouth. He doesn’t like how slow you’re going you can tell by the way his eyebrows furrow. He grabs the back of your head with both hands fucking your face at a relentless pace having you deep throat his length hardly being able to breathe. Tears streaming down your face, you’re grabbing his thighs looking up at him hoping he’ll slow down so you can breathe. You’re gagging on his cock but still taking all of him in the bavk of your throat. He does one last thrust cumming in the back of your throat and pulling out. He makes you swallow all of it.

You attempt to wipe your face, probably doing a horrible job. Joker helps you stand, taking your thighs in his hands he lifts you up placing your thighs around his waist. You wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss him, sticking his tongue in your mouth you feel him switch to holding you up with one arm. With his other arm he takes the tip rubbing it across your folds making you moan into the kiss. Pushing his tip in making you drag your nails between his shoulder blades for sure leaving scratches. He places his hands on your hips pushing you down on his length once he’s all the way in he picks you up by your thighs bouncing you up and down on him. Breaking the kiss you moaning “hajun”. He lets you cum first. Feeling you clench around him and tighten your grip on his shoulders he continues fucking into you.

“Slow down” you tell him, needing a little break after your orgasm. He doesn’t listen, picking up the pace making you cry into his shoulder. You feel his cock twitching inside you and you know he’s close with on the last thrust he releases his load inside you. You know he’s not satisfied yet, sex with him only ends after multiple rounds.

Carrying you to the edge of the bed he sits down pulling you onto his lap. Lining up with your entrance he tells you to ride him. You push his tip in sliding down on him all the way. You’re bouncing up and down on him moaning. He is leaving a trail of kisses all down your neck occasionally sucking on the skin leaving a few hickeys. Taking your breast in his mouth he sucks on your nipple and fondles with your other breast until you aren’t going as fast as he likes. He slaps your ass really hard causing you to yelp out loud. His grip tightening on your hips slamming you up and down on his cock while thrusting in and out you. “Fuck, just like that so close” he says under his breath by your ear. His voice pushing you over the edge you feel another orgasm washing over you.

Without pulling out he flips you over so your underneath him, without warning he is thrusting in and out of you with a relentless pace chasing his own climax. His fast rough pace causes his dick to repeatedly hit your cervix making you cry and moan his name. His hands are placed beside your head gripping the sheets tightly reading under his arms you scratch all down his back. you’ll feel him cum again pushing your legs up as far as they go resting them over his shoulders. Caging your head between your knees he will once again pick up his rough relentless pace as you moan his name.

Taking your legs off his shoulders spreading them further apart he leans back watching his cock disappear into you. With one hand wrapping around your throat he tells you to cum one last time for him. You squirt on his cock and he cums once again watching his glistening cock go in and out of your hole fucking your mixed juices back into you.

He leans down kissing you, switching you both where he is lying behind you with his arms around your waist pulling the blanket over you both. With thirty five minutes to spare you both fall asleep

Dedicated to @inosukehana @cozyunderworld

[rosieofcorona]

All We Do Not Say

Hi beloveds! I have crafted a soft little Gale fic for you because it's my firm belief that everyone's favorite wizard deserves all the warmth in the world. 😌 Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

There was a time in his life that Gale could sleep anywhere, provided he had a good book and a space to sit down. 

In Waterdeep, he might wake in his armchair or on his balcony with the weight of an ancient tome still resting in his lap, or at his desk, his cheek pressed against parchment. The smell of it, of ink and lignin, would bring him back to his senses before his eyes were fully open, and he’d recall what he’d been studying, and begin reading again. 

At home, in his tower, he could do this night after night and still feel mostly rested come morning. 

But he is far from his tower, and farther each day.

Perhaps it is the orb that keeps him up as of late, with its insatiable, unnatural hunger, or perhaps it is the tadpole that wriggles and pulses impatiently inside his skull. Or it could, he supposes, be the simpler and less curable matter of aging– an affliction that seems, on occasion, more frightening than either of the others. 

Whatever the cause of his recent insomnia, it pulls Gale into a rather distressing cycle– he cannot sleep, so he cannot focus, so he cannot read, so he cannot sleep. 

Instead, he finds himself offering to keep watch over camp in the evenings, if only for the distraction. The far-off gibbering of a newborn gnoll, the crunch of foliage under goblin feet, an animal scream– each night a fresh and distant horror calls his mind away from greater threats, from illithids and tadpoles and gods.

It’s an odd remedy, he knows. But the alternative is lying awake in his tent, turning death over and over in his mind until the thought is worn smooth as a river stone. 

It works well for a time, keeps his mind on the present and off of some vague, future doom.

That is, at least, until they reach the Underdark. 

Deep beneath Faerûn, there is something profoundly disturbing about the lack of…well, everything. They find no grand cities or quaint little villages, few animals and even fewer people. 

No trees, no light. No sky. 

Most nights spent underground are so quiet that Gale may as well stay in his bedroll, staring up at a canopy of fabric, dark as the velvet earth above them. 

He thinks, It is like being buried alive, without even the stars to bear witness. 

On these nights he can feel the stones in his head turning over.

Even so, come the evening (or what he guesses is evening), Gale volunteers to stand sentinel for the fifth time in a tenday. 

He always asks them after dinner, when his companions are most likely to agree, after his cooking has warmed them and filled their bellies and made them want nothing more than to close their eyes and dream of somewhere, anywhere else. 

Tav is the only one who protests with any frequency, the only one who seems to notice that the circles under his eyes are half a shade darker than they were yesterday, when they were half a shade darker than the day before. 

Even on nights when she convinces someone else to take his place, he will relieve them after Tav has gone to sleep. 

It starts the same way every time. 

Gale walks the perimeter in an infinite loop, looking for life in the darkness, illuminated only by the fire in the center of their camp. It makes him feel like a distant planet, nearly untouched by the sun. How strange to think that he’d once felt like the sun itself. 

He continues in his orbit until the subterranean cold gnaws at his limbs. It bites down hard on his nose and ears and fingers, chases him back to the fire, back to the light. 

Hypnotized by the flames and their radiant warmth, he does not hear the quiet stirring in the tent beyond his own, doesn’t hear the soft approach of nimble feet. 

A voice comes to him out of the darkness.

“I hope you’re not keeping watch again.” 

“Mystra,” Gale gasps, startled, the goddess’s name invoked in equal parts a prayer, a curse.

“Forgive me,” Tav says, through a laugh she cannot help. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If it were anyone else he might be annoyed, or even a little embarrassed– but the sound of her laughter bubbles like seafoam over sand, rushes over and around him. Coupled with the relief that she is not some dreadful creature of the Underdark, he finds it difficult to feel anything besides affection. 

“It’s quite alright,” he recovers, with a shake of his head. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

“Then I really hope you’re not keeping watch.” 

She is teasing him now, just lightly, a familiar spark of warmth behind her eyes. 

It is the same look she gives him when she brings him a new book, or when he cooks for her, or when he tells her about Waterdeep. It is the same look she gave him earlier in the day, when she had offered to brew him a tea that might help him to sleep.

Gale has trouble remembering the last time another looked at him this way, so interested and inviting and earnest. 

Perhaps, he thinks, another never has. 

“Are you alright?” Tav asks, when he’s been quiet for too long.  

“Of course,” he says with the sincerity of a promise, offered with a smile that he hopes will be convincing. “Just lost in thought.” 

There is a part of him that doesn’t want to leave it there, that wants to share his every thought with her, his every terror, every dream. She must know that there is more to it, must’ve learned by now to recognize when Gale isn’t telling her everything, but he is grateful that she doesn’t press him, never presses him. 

Instead she breaks into a grin and says, “You’re lucky I’m not a bulette.” 

“I’m lucky they’re not so light-footed. What are you doing up, anyway?”

“The cold always wakes me, sooner or later,” Tav sighs. “If I’d known it was so godsdamned frigid down here, I might’ve nicked a fur or two from the Zhent.” 

It’s Gale’s turn to laugh, though she’s only half-joking. 

She’s drawn near to him, to the flames, her palms outstretched, her fingers spread wide as if to grab hold of as much warmth as possible. 

“But it’s alright,” she continues, “So as long as I’m close to the fire.” 

“Any closer and you’ll be in it, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can help.” 

Tav tilts her head and quirks an eyebrow in a curious little expression. “Can you?”

“If you’ll allow me.” 

Gale turns to face her fully, and she mirrors him out of instinct. 

“Hold out your hands to me,” he says. “Palms together, just barely. Like you’re praying.” 

“Like this?” “Like that.” 

The spell is one his mother taught him, among the first he’d ever learned. 

He still remembers that winter in Waterdeep, when the snow fell hard and fast. When the ice in the harbor kept the ships at arm’s length and the frozen streets shone like glass. He was young then, six or seven, but even now he can feel his small hands in Morena’s, warmed by a word and a touch. 

Warm and fed, she used to tell him. That’s how you show someone they’re loved. 

Gale cages Tav’s hands lightly in his own, the way he might hold a butterfly. He pushes all thoughts of winter away and calls to mind the rippling heat of summer, an orchard grown fat with peaches, the silvery shimmer of sweat on skin. 

The rose-petal flush of a cheek cradled in a hand, her cheek, his hand…

“Calor aestas,” he says quietly, when the image comes into clear view. He feels the cold melt from her fingers, hears the comfortable sigh that follows. “Better?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Much.” 

She is looking at him now with an intensity he has not seen since the night he first showed her the Weave, all that time ago. The night he saw her thoughts laid bare, had all but felt her lips on his. 

Had she seen them now, the visions he had conjured? Had she felt him pull her close in his own mind?

Tav clears her throat softly and he comes back to himself, his heartbeat thrashing wildly in his chest. He realizes with some urgency that he has not let her go and pulls back suddenly, but not without reluctance. 

“I hope,” he swallows, trying to compose himself. “I hope it helps you sleep.” 

“Do you want me to stay up with you?”

Yes, he thinks selfishly, Yes. Stay up with me, stay close to me, always. 

He shakes his head instead. “You should rest while the spell holds.”

“And how long is that?”

“As long as I’m able to concentrate.” 

He will think of her hands and their pull on a bowstring, their pluck of a lyre, their grip on a sword. How they weave her own magic, how they cradle a book. How they felt clasped in his, soft and cold. 

A focus worth holding, at last. 

“Only if it’s no trouble,” she says. 

“None at all.” 

Gale is grateful that he manages to stop himself, for once, from saying the rest of the thought as it enters his head. I would think of you anyway, magic or no.  

Tav takes his hand in hers again, this time to squeeze it fondly.

For a moment, he feels that if he were to die just now– from the orb, from the tadpole, in the jaws of a hungry bulette– it would all have been worth it, for this. 

“Thank you, Gale.”

Her smile is warmer than any summer he remembers, brighter than any star he can name.

[aziraphales-library]

Hii!! I want to thank you guys for recommending and going thru the work to "provide"?

Anyways thank you so so much for helping

Do you have any fics about Crowley getting a dangerous job or smth (like a spy or bodyguard etc)?

I would amuch do appreciate it if Aziraphale could be in it too someway. Also I don't really mind if it's a human pov or not.

Sorry for such a long message, bye bye! <3

Hello! Here are some fics in which Crowley has a dangerous job...

fell in love with the fire long ago by midnightdragons (T)

The EMT was a handsome older bloke, with soft, curly blonde-white hair and warm blue eyes that were soft and crinkled at the edges. His cheeks were round and flushed with red, and he looked rather frazzled, but in a way that somehow looked so utterly gorgeous. White gloves were pulled tightly over his hands, contrasting the dark color of his uniform, and spectacles balanced on his nose, slightly fogged from the smoke nearby, though they were, for the most part, out of range from the smoldering church. “Hi.” Crowley, who was caked in grime and smoke and debris and who was wearing a dirty, unwashed firefighter’s suit and who was barely able to speak in a voice louder than a raspy, hoarse croak, thought that perhaps he had died and gone to Heaven. Would’ve believed it, too, with this angel before him, if the adrenaline wasn’t starting to wear off, giving way to dull, throbbing pain in his skull. “M’Crowley,” he introduced himself, rather stupidly. “Anthony Crowley.”

Crowley is a firefighter; Aziraphale is an EMT. A First Responders Human AU one-shot of their 'first' (whumpy but fluffy) meeting, inspired by artwork (link in A/N & artwork included)!

A Walk on the Wild Side by Sani86 (M)

Crowley has been working as a game ranger at Engadini Game Reserve for... well, more years than he cares to count. A new manager threatens to upset everything with his plans to turn Engadini into a prime eco-tourism destination. But the new chef he appointed for the lodge might just make it all worth while. Meanwhile, Aziraphale - the new chef in question - can't stop staring at the lanky red-headed game ranger who moves like a snake. Unfortunately, romantic entanglements of any kind are strictly against the rules, and could cost them both their jobs. How long can they fight the undeniable attraction between them?

This Way For Up by brutumfulmen (M)

Called onto the scene of a cave exploration accident, Crowley struggles against increasingly grim odds to save a young scout trapped deep underground. All while keeping everyone, from a nervous troop leader to Crowley himself, calm in the meantime.

For His Eyes Only by AFrenchFanWriter (M)

Anthony J. Crowley has been an MI6 spy for 10 years, completing successful mission after successful mission under the guidance of his quartermaster, Aziraphale Fell. But this life is starting to take its toll on him as he is getting older; and when, one day, his past comes back to haunt him, Crowley realizes that it might be time for him to hang up his gun and face all the things he has left unaddressed… (Yep, it is basically a James Bond/Q AU!)

The Infernal Bodyguard by Santillatron (M)

Alistair Zira Fell is a popular author. Loved by everyone he meets. Well, almost everyone. Someone is trying to hurt him, and right now, he needs a bodyguard. Anthony J. Crowley is the best, although he doesn't work with celebrities. He has three rules. He never gets too close, never stays once the job is done, and Never Gets Involved. But this isn't a thriller. This, is a love story.

The False and the Fair by Princip1914 (E)

Growing up in the shadow of West Virginia’s Eden Mountain, Aziraphale Wright always expected to work for the family coal mining company. Anthony Crowley, the son of a down-and-out miner, was going to become a pilot and leave town forever. Now, thirty years later, neither of their lives have gone as planned, and an unexpected inheritance brings them back into one another’s orbit. Aziraphale hopes that they can move beyond their shared past, and a high school arrangement that ended in disaster, but he has secrets of his own that threaten their fragile reconnection…

- Mod D

[fandomzwriterk]

Can you write about the female reader teasing Smoke while cuddling? 😁

A/N: I’m collecting all the Mortal Kombat fans like Pokemon cards now and I couldn’t be more prouder

Warnigns: GN!Reader gets kidnapped + blood warning + The Lin Kuei brothers fight each other + fluffy content at the end

Smoke x GN!Reader

“This is the dumbest idea we’ve ever had.” Bi Han growled

Shang Tsung, Quan Chi, and Bi Han walked around the underground grave, looking around as the other Lin Kuei foot soldiers started building a camp to stay in. They weren’t leaving this place anytime soon.

“Well they’re our bargaining chip so they’ll come soon.”

“My brothers are not idiots.”

“Yet I know one of them is going to slip up.”

Shang Tsung and Quan Chi left, Bi Han staring at the cage Quan Chi built to keep you contained. You had two guards always watching, your leg tied by a chain so you wouldn’t even think of escape, frozen extra solid by Bi Han’s ice. He scowled at you, noticing your dirty and poor living condition. You still had open wounds all over you, pathetically covered in pieces of cloth, staining them to the point you could see the blood underneath.

“You are a pathetic excuse of a Lin Kuei soldier. I know they’ll come for you, Tomas always does.”

Some time earlier…

“I can’t climb that. What do you expect me to do? Have Kuai pull me up with ropes? Have Tomas carry me?”

You remember the scowl on Bi Han’s face, much like the one he gave you now. He hated you, you always knew that. You just never expected he’d hurt his brothers the worst way possible.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Tomas shouted as he lunged at Quan Chi

Kuai Liang and Bi Han were fighting Shang Tsung, both trying to incapacitate him so they could bring him back to Liu Kang.

“Then why don’t I do this?” Quan Chi replied darkly

Quan Chi’s dark magic opened up under the ground, four ropes of it grabbing your arms and legs, holding you down to the ground. You struggled, but Quan Chi had strong mental power and hold of dark magic.

“This is pitiful.”

One flick of his hand and Kuai Liang and Bi Han got sent into the wall while Tomas was grabbed by one more of the dark magic ropes. He tried stabbing it, smoking away, nothing worked. Quan Chi tied down Bi Han and Kuai Liang on their knees in front of Shang Tsung, being held back by animated corpses.

“Work with me, and I can make the Lin Kuei great and feared again.”

You saw Bi Han’s eyes scan around at each of you in the room, resting them on you as you were helplessly tied down by the magic.

“Bi Han I swear on the Elder Gods if you do this-“

“And what if I did?”

“You wouldn’t hurt us, we’re your brothers, and Y/n is practically like our family too.”

“She’s family Bi Han! Don’t destroy what Father worked so hard-“

“Father was an old man who lost his mind, and I’m glad I left him to die. Now, I’m going to make sure both of you are without the distraction once more.”

Bi Han was let go, standing up as he walked over to you and crouched in front of you.

“You have no place in our family, even if you care about Tomas. You are nothing, and you always will be.”

He kicked your face, feeling the actual strength he’d been holding back from you in practice. It was painful, painful as hell. He kicked you once more, blood falling from your mouth and your eyes almost shut, but you could see his eyes staring at you with years of hatred. He was going to make everyone suffer his wrath, even his own family.

“You mother fucker!”

Quan Chi’s grip on Tomas loosened as he sent a smoke bomb out. Through the thick fog you could see Tomas move to help Kuai Liang up, starting to make his way to you.

“Get her out of here and into the tomb. She’s more valuable alive.”

Tomas and Kuai were fighting Bi Han as Shang Tsung and Quan Chi dragged your body down the cold stone hallway, as you could only watch as the room became smaller and smaller the more you got dragged away.

“You are a shame on the name of the Lin Kuei! Both of you! I am your Grandmaster and you listen to me!”

“I’m not listening to your shit anymore Bi Han! I’m going to end your reign of terror right now. Give her back now!”

“Tomas were outnumbered.”

Animated corpses crawled from under the ground, slowly going to surround both Tomas and Kuai, moving them to the edge of the stone balcony. Tomas could only fight in fear as he watched you get dragged away.

Now…

“Oh I’m going to get out of here Bi Han and when I do, I’m going to make sure you suffer for what you did to your brothers.”

“Ha! Not by the grace of the Elder Gods you won’t. You have no chance of even making it out of this room alive. You’d be dead before you could even think of fighting back.”

You wanted to curse him out, call him a bastard, but you knew words weren’t going to do anything now. You could see his smug expression while he crossed his arms, staring down at you like a dog in the streets.

“It’s been five days, I doubt they’ll be coming for you.”

Five days… this had been hell on Earth for you. Little did you know, somebody was making his way inside. Eventually, Bi Han followed Shang Tsung and left you alone with two foot soldiers. Even if you tried to escape now, the chain on your ankle would stop you. Your body felt weak, feeling faint at the loss of blood that seeped into the dirt you sat on. So, you closed your eyes, praying someone would save you as you fell to the ground.

“Hey! Y/n! Tomas over here!” You heard

Your hearing was starting to sound like you were going underwater, the pain slowly drifting away and you felt lighter, feeling calm as your eyes remained closed.

“No no no no! Y/n! Wake up!”

Through the darkness and light feeling, you could feel someone holding you, putting your body against their chest as they stood and picked you up, walking fast as more voices began to speak.

“Liu Kang!”

“Time to go! Right now!”

You felt the person holding you tightly, their grip never letting go as you felt warmth start to touch your skin. You still felt faint, but the warmth was brining back the sounds you could hear. After some time, you opened your eyes, staring at a white ceiling as you felt your body stiffen up while you tried to sit up. Your vision was blurry, slowly becoming clear as you blinked. You looked down, Tomas’ head laid on top of your hand, feeling the fact he was holding it too. He seemed tired. Had he been looking for you? As if he could hear your thoughts, he looked up, eyes red and puffy from crying. He jumped into you, hugging you like his life depended on it.

“You’re okay. Thank the Elder Gods.”

His grip tightened, holding on to you like it would be his last. Tomas pulled back a little, staring into your eyes as he brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. For the first time since you’ve met him, you could finally see his smile. You could see him, the real Tomas, who wasn’t hiding anything from you. You put a hand on his cheek, seeing all the worry and hurt in his eyes. He loved you, more than you could ever know.

“I’m okay Tomas. I’m okay.”

“Good. Cause your dumbass had me worried!”

“Eh?! What does that mean?”

“You are such a dumbass for getting caught.”

“And you’re an even bigger dumbass for letting me get caught.”

You booped his nose, something you often did as kids whenever you teased each other. It was an old habit that even now, as a young man, Tomas still loved.

“But seriously… did Shang Tsung do anything to you?”

“No… I didn’t really see him. It was mostly Bi Han that was around.”

Tomas frowned, moving to sit next to you as he helped you lean against the wall on your medical bed. His silver hair was a mess, having been fluffed up by smothering you. Your hand reached up, trailing along the side of his face, admiring the small scars on his face while you fixed his hair.

“There. Now you look cute.”

“Hm I think I’m always cute… according to you at least.”

“Oh you are so getting when I’m better.”

You leaned against him, head leaning against his shoulder. Your hand drifted, grabbing his hand in yours.

“I promise to never do anything like that again.”

He turned his head, staring at you with his silver-blue eyes, a smile on his face.

“And I promise that while I’m around, nothing is going to happen to you my love.”

A/N: I feel like I did TERRIBLE on this but I’m glad I could do your request☺️ I like writing for everyone!

[topazy]

Hunted

Pairing: Liam Dunbar x reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 6.04

You were thankful Scott’s mom hadn’t returned from work yet; you didn’t want to be there when Melissa McCall discovered the large black scorch marks on her ceiling or when Liam went to a party in her house. You were collecting red cups and other trash that was scattered across the living room and tossing them into a black bag.

Realizing you’re the only one cleaning, you drop the bag and say, “I’m gonna need some help if we want this done before Scott’s mom gets home.”

Hearing multiple heartbeats racing in the next room, you go through and see Scott, Liam, Mason, and Corey staring up at the ceiling. You walk towards them and gulp down, “That’s where the ghost rider came in. It looks like it was burned.”

“Usually you'd find charred spots like that on the ground after a violent thunderstorm.”

Scott’s eyes widen as he processes Mason’s words: “That's how the Ghost Riders got in. He rode the lightning.”

Liam tenses, “If they can use lightning to pass the mountain ash...”

“We can’t hide from them. Nowhere is safe.”

“What about the others?” Corey asks. “It's my fault they're marked.”

“Hey, it’s not. We are all still learning about the ghost riders.”

“We'll find a way to protect them. All of them.”

Although Scott was determined to save everyone, you still doubted it could be done. Breaking the gloomy atmosphere, you pull two black bags out of your pockets and shove them at Mason and Liam. “Come on, we better clean this place before Melissa kills us.”

Scott gives you an appreciated nod.

—

Frustrated, you shove your phone into your bag before going to join Liam and Mason in the library. You hadn’t heard back from your dad in a couple of days and were starting to become worried.

The first thing you notice sitting across from Liam is the frown on his face as he stares at the book in front of him. You felt bad for Liam; he still blames himself for what happened at Scott’s party. “The k-index quantifies the horizontal component of the earth's magnetic field.” He bites on the end of his pen, looking lost in a deep thought, before asking, “What’s a k-index?”

“It’s a scale that meteorologists use to measure thunderstorm activity,” Mason explains. “So, a k-index value less than twenty meters means no activity, and above thirty-five is severe.”

“How bad is it?”

"Well, your average storm has about ten thousand lightning strikes. In the past three months, the average storm in beacon hills has been five thousand.”

“What’s it reading now?”

Mason types onto his laptop and brings up what he’s looking for: “It’s at fourteen. We’re clear.”

“If a spike in the K index means more lightning, we could know if they're coming.” Liam says, sounding unsure.

“That’s good. As long as it stays low, we’re good.”

Just as the words leave your mouth, Mason’s computer starts beeping. A few students turn and glare in your direction as he struggles to turn it off. You can’t see the screen, but sensing how anxious they are both becoming, you know it’s something bad.

“What’s wrong?”

Mason gulps down, “Oh, this is really bad.”

Under the table, Liam links his fingers with yours, attempting to comfort the both of you the best he can.

—

You pace back and forth up the hallways of Beacon Hills High School. You keep glancing back over your shoulder, waiting to see someone standing there. You didn’t know how to describe it, but you just had a feeling that you shouldn’t be there alone. Someone else was supposed to be with you, helping you.

Stiles.

That could maybe be the answer if you knew who Stiles was.

Liam and Hayden had managed to get everyone who was at the party, aside from three lacrosse players, into the underground tunnels. Your uncle Chris and Malia were staying with them underground to keep them safe.

Since the majority of the lacrosse team and coach were in the boys locker room, you couldn’t go in to help try and persuade the players to leave. Hearing familiar footsteps, you turn and see nobody, yet you have the feeling someone is standing right in front of you.

“Stiles,” you whisper. “Stiles, can you hear me?”

“Lu, who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you mumble. Turning back around, you met a confused-looking Mason’s eye. “Where’s Scott and Liam?

“They are playing the game.”

—

You sit beside Mason on the bleachers, cringing as coach becomes more and more angry. The Bulldogs had scored three times, and your school's team hadn’t had one goal all game. You weren’t happy about Liam being out on the lacrosse field, but they reasoned it was the only way to keep the other players safe.

“What are you doing out there?! i'm gonna kill the three of you!”

“Look how red coach’s face is,” you whisper. “He looks like he’s gonna blow.”

“This is the worst ga—“ Mason doesn’t finish his sentence when he notices Scott and Liam looking at him from across the field. “But of course we have bigger things to worry about.”

Over the cheers and boos of the crowd, you hear someone saying your name; they were calling for you. Suddenly sensing who it was, you stand up, and Mason takes your hand to gain your attention. “What is it? What do you hear?”

“My dad's here; he’s with Parrish. He needs to talk to me.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“Find Hayden first, and then I’ll meet you inside. Liam and Scott will call if anything is wrong.”

You sprint from the bleachers towards the high school just as the light rain becomes heavy, soaking your clothes almost immediately. You burst through the doors. “Dad, dad?”

Derek appears behind you and pulls you into him. “We need to go.”

“What?”

“Kate’s coming. We need to go now.”

“But I—“

“The ghost riders are afraid of hellhounds, which is why I called Parrish.” Placing his hand on your back, Derek starts moving you towards the exit. “I’m parked outside. Soon as Liam is here, then we are leaving.”

“Liam is coming?”

He pushes the main doors open and says, “Liam will stay with you while I come back and help Scott and Chris with the ghost riders.”

On the opposite end of the hallway, you hear Hayden and Mason’s voices; they sounded panicked. You spin back around, “Somethings wrong!”

A brunette woman overtakes your friends while running in the hallway but is shot by one of the ghost riders bullets and disappears. Turning into his hellhound form, Parrish is shot by one of the ghost riders. The flames surrounding his body turn green, and he falls back, but is only momentarily stunned before getting back up.

The ghost rider turns its body to face in your direction and aims its gun at you. Growling, Derek shoves you forward just as the bullet skips past where you stood seconds before.

Parrish grabs the ghost rider from behind, giving Hayden and Mason a chance to run by it without being attacked.

You go to run outside but are pulled back. “There’s more out there, fuck.” Being faster than you, Derek takes hold of your hand and keeps you beside him. “Go to the nearest classroom and lock yourselves in.”

Mason’s eyes were widened with feet and adrenaline; he looked as if he were going to throw up. “The science lab is just down the next hall!”

The four of you make it to the classroom. Mason slips and falls. Derek, let’s go of your hand to help him up. Just as you’re about to step inside, a black cord tightens around your ankle. You sink your claws into the side of the door to fight against the ghost rider trying to pull you backwards.

You let out a piercing scream, “Dad!”

The ghost rider pulls on the whip, dragging you along the floor. Expecting to be shot, you squeeze your eyes shut, but they quickly open when the pressure around your ankle disappears. Derek had cut the cord with his claws before lunging on top of the ghost rider.

“Dad!”

Hayden yanks you backwards into the classroom. There’s a bright flash of lightening, then the ghost rider disappears.

[whosthere54]

Another thing I wrote because you deserve it

I don’t think I ever posted it so here you go <3

(I’m not that happy with this one, and it’s pretty short, not exactly too in character, but some season 1 PrisonDuo is good for the soul /lh)

-=+=-

Centross was back in the Ominous bane base. He doesn’t usually stay for long, just wanting to grab some extra materials he’s *sure* Sherb must have somewhere in the underground space.

He eventually made his way towards the extra rooms they kept in the back. Sherbert insisted they had needed them “just in case”. He’d never understood the logic behind that, not until maybe Athena staying there.

As he walked through the dark hall, he paused as he noticed the Alchemists door was cracked open. There was a soft light coming from their room, a glow seemingly from their brewing stands. He creaks the door open slightly, wondering what they would be doing awake at this hour, when he actually sees the bird.

They were asleep, head resting against their arms over their alchemy notes. There were various ingredient strewn about in different pans, some differently shaped bottles set aside next to the brewing stands. He considers leaving them like that, he really does, in fact he turns around to just walk away.

He turns back, running his hands over his face with a heavy sigh before walking towards them. He observed them for a moment, their messy hair with their goggles still on, jacket discarded on the floor so their tank top is revealing their purpled skin, head resting against their arms with their nose tucked under so you could only see their closed eyes.

He picks their jacket up, folding it neatly and placing it on their desk beside their brewing stands. He takes off the jacket he’d been wearing and places it carefully over their shoulders. They relax just slightly so the jacket settles neatly over them. He smiles at them fondly for a moment, before shaking his head with a soft smile. He lightly ruffles their hair, muttering a quiet “Idiot bird” before leaving.

——

They woke with a start. The things waking up all around them, annoying chatting starting up as usual.

They roll their eyes and lift their head, tilting it just slightly as they register the unfamiliar weight.

They turn to find Centross’s jacket around their shoulders, short circuiting for a moment before shaking their head.

They smile just barely, muttering “That idiot.” before getting up. They glance at their jacket a moment before adjusting his over their shoulders and continuing their potion work.

——

They end up switching jackets before leaving the room. They can’t let anyone see that they’d kept it on, of course.

The things bully them anyway.

Next time they see him they throw it at him- “take your jacket you *idiot*” -before walking away as he laughs and pulls it on.

Maybe they smile, but nobody would ever need to know that now would they.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Little Fawn

Summary: Y/n faces the consequences of ignoring her grangran's advice.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: here's something short for all my lulu girlies ❣️

(also thank you @clairebear08 and @berryzxx for helping with lulu's perfume eheheh 🤭)

Anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Do not leave the home at night or walk the streets alone at night. Especially in the middle of the night.

That's what everyone said, including Y/n's own grandmother, who had taken her in after her parents death when she was only a child.

They had been killed by the very being Y/n had always been warned against.

Vampires.

Even thinking about them sent a chill down Y/n's body.

She hurried her pace, pulling her coat tighter around herself, keeping her eyes downwards, glaring at the worn and chipped cobblestones under her feet as if they had caused her a personal offence.

She was already in a bad mood because of her friend, who had forced her to stay long after she was supposed o have returned.

Y/n worked in a local restaurant as a chef. Creating intricate art in food from raw materials brought her immense joy.

That was one of the things Y/n had inherited from her mother. Both of them had loved cooking, and always gave their best into whatever they created.

Y/n paused at the mouth of an alleyway, considering her options. She could either take the long but used route, where she could see that people were mingling on, or take the shortcut, which right now, looked abandoned.

Y/n knew her grandmother always yelled at her to not come home late at nights, and if she had to, to not take the road where not many treading.

But...

Who was going to tell Y/n grandmother?

Y/n turned on her heel, speeding her pace as she started up the lightly inclined alley.

Completely missing the sign that said read-

Body found. Do not tread. Supernatural presence suspected.

•○🌑○•

The alleyway was usually was filled with people and bustling crowd, eager to get wherever they were going to. At the very least, it would still be filled with the chatter from the nearby homes and restaurants.

But tonight, it felt eerily... quiet.

It was so silent Y/n could practically hear the breathing of the earthworm six feet underground.

I need to stop exaggerating so much. Y/n thought to herself as she walked briskly down the street. She had already covered half the distance now, just half more and then she would be home, safe and sound.

Y/n started to think about the book that she had been reading about food and wondering about how she could help her restaurant grow when the sound of a metal scraping against the ground came from behind her, making her stop in her tracks, every part of her body freezing.

Silence, thicker than her brother's thick skull descended over the area, and a shiver wound its way up Y/n's spine. She willed her legs to move, to take her back home, but it seemed like they had developed a mind of their own. They did not move, even as every pore and cell in Y/n's body screamed at her to run.

It was either that, or there was an abomination staring at her.

Y/n knew it could be the other option, but she always liked to think of herself as an optimist, and so, she just hoped that her brain was toying with her.

Even as all the signs pointed to it being otherwise.

The scuff of a boot sounded behind Y/n, letting her know that she was not alone. The scent of a sweet musk mixed with undertones that reminded her of fall surrounded Y/n until she was drowning in it.

Good thing, right?

No.

She felt their presence just as the person was right behind her, their breath fanning over Y/n's neck. Y/n suppressed a shiver, trying to lean away.

No matter how positive a person, right now, all positiveness in Y/n went right out her ass.

A vampire was breathing down her neck. And Y/n did not know what to do.

She also did not have the small device that her grandmother had brought her on her, having considered it an unnecessary weight.

Oh how she condemned herself right now.

Y/n tried to lift her hand, finding it very easy to do so. Experimentally, she lifted her leg, and she could... move.

But now she did not want to, knowing it would do her no help but get her killed faster.

I should have told grangran that I love her.

That was all Y/n could think of as she turned, slowly.

Her eyes met gold and russet, the brutal and cruel scar drawing her gaze. The high cheekbones, the ethereal beauty did not really register, because Y/n was too busy wondering how those fiery strands of hair would feel between her fingers.

"Hello fawn." The deep voice of the man- vampire- shot right to Y/n's heart and flowed though her bloodstream.

Y/n began to look towards his eyes, then stopped herself as her grandmother's sayings swirled around her mind.

Whatever you do, never meet eyes with a vampire. It's like giving them invitation to bite.

So Y/n focused on the red locket that hung from his neck, staring at the thing intensely as she finally faced him fully.

She felt him smile. "Hmm. Interesting. You know not to make eye contact." He laughed a little. "I wonder who taught you that. Knowing how secretive the information is, you should not have known it."

Y/n's blood turned to ice.

What is he talking about?

He chuckled again when Y/n ignored him. "Oh fawn, you are so adorable." She glanced up at that, even as she tried not to. It was like someone was forcing and controlling her.

She still did not look into his eyes, so she was proud of herself for that.

She watched his lips curve into a sadistic smirk, and light glinted off of something sharp as he ran his tongue over it.

His canines.

Y/n sucked in a sharp breath, hey eyes flying to his.

She realised her mistake then, her eyes going wide.

"No..." She whispered, unable to look away from his eyes as she took a step back. Those beautiful fucking eyes.

His smile grew wider, delight rolling off of him.

"Oh my fawn. Don't be scared." His smile said something completely different, something akin to run.

Y/n watched him advance, continuing to retreat. The cruelty on his face made her blood chill but boil at the same time.

She jolted when she realised she... liked that look. Like he was going to rip her apart but at the same time let her light up the world in flames as he stood by, cleaning his nails.

She liked that knowing that, and it was so utterly wrong.

And, oddly enough, Y/n wasn't complaining.

He stepped closer, his eyes shining.

"I will take good care of you my fawn."

One second, he was standing a little distance away, the next, he was standing toe to toe with her.

And the next, his teeth sunk into flesh like hot knife on butter.

•○🌑○•

General Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe

Lucien Taglist: @mirandasidefics @fell-in-luvs

[an-au-blog]

Franky and Robin rarely have the opportunity to go on proper dates. Sure, lounging on deck and having brunch together is nice, but it's not a proper date.

So he promised her, that when they reach the next island, he'd take her dancing. She said that he doesn't need to and that she wasn't one for dancing. But he insisted.

They finally spot the island both of them start getting ready. Franky fixes his hair and Robin does her makeup. It's almost sunset when they drop the anker. They each head out to town for their own thing. Franky goes around town and comes back to puck Robin up after a few hours. He's rented a weird-looking motorbike and bought her flowers. She leaves them on the ship but it was a nice gesture.

They drive around a bit and Franky parks on top of a hill where they could see the city from the top. All the little lights and people roaming around. He brought a little snack he stole from Sanji before heading out.

Once they walk down into town they enter a small corner shop. Robin is a bit confused until Franky nods at the owner and turns to tell Robin that "I've been asking around for the coolest underground club here," the owner took the further in and opened a closet door with a stairway downstairs. There was music and lights coming from the room. "It's literally under ground, wow!" Franky exclaimed and Robin couldn't help but find his enthusiasm extremely charming.

They got a light cocktail as a start off and then danced for a bit. That is until they heard a familiar voice shouting "YOU!"

They turned to see Sanji on the verge of angry tears (out of jealousy, don't worry, he'll get over it). Brook, Nami, Usopp and Luffy were behind him. (The rest stayed on the ship)

At first Franky was sad he finally had the chance to take Robin out properly, but now it couldn't be just the two of them... But then he saw her having fun with the rest of the crew. She pulled him aside and gave him a peck on the cheek, thanking him for doing this for her and telling him she's happy and not to worry. That was all he needed to know.

[harleyquilt]

Kuroneki x Touka ficlet - Training Troubles

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kaneki lands on his back with a heavy thud. He gasps and coughs while turning back to his front, noticing Touka walking towards him. Bowing his head, he holds a hand up, trying to catch his breath.

“Hold on,” he breathes. “Give me a second.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs his collar, dragging him back up and onto his feet. She gives him a light shove, eyes scanning over his body.

“You don't have a second to spare when you're in battle.” She says, poking his chest. He winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “You have to be quicker, move faster, and never show any compromise in your movements.” She tilts her head to one side. “Understood?”

He nods, defeated. “Yes yes.” He sighs. “Let's leave it here for today. I'm exhausted.”

Touka's brow twitches. “Stop whining.” She takes a step closer, her irises fading into a predatory red. “We're done when I say we're done.”

“T-Touka-chan–”

Before he can make any kind of protest, Touka swipes his feet with her leg, knocking him back down onto the ground. He yelps, struggling to push himself up, and Touka presses him back down with her foot against his chest. He lies flat, feeling the sharp point of her glaring eyes. There's even a faint impression of a smirk on her lips.

“You're being unfair, Touka-chan.” He mutters, grabbing her ankle. “I'm starting to think you're enjoying this.”

“Gross,” she shakes her foot free, raising It up over him. “There's nothing fun about this.”

She stomps her foot down and Kaneki rolls to one side, feeling the impact of her attack reverberate through the ground. He stumbles onto his feet, raising his fists. Touka scoffs, tilting her chin up. She rushes towards him, grabbing his face, and in his clumsy attempt to apprehend her, he wraps his arms around her body and pulls her down with him as he falls back onto the ground for a third time. Her body lands against his and it takes them a moment to realise what has happened.

Kaneki winces, expecting Touka to throw a fit once she notices their current position, but cracking open one eye, he's surprised to see her completely still. Rigid even. Looking down, he sees her peering back up to him, her eyes wide and her lips parted. Despite her aggression moments ago, she now looked unusually innocent, her hair untidy and her cheeks dusted with a growing blush. And after admiring this rare sight, Touka's face twists into a shocked disgust, and she slaps his chest with her fists, forcefully untangling her body from his.

“What's wrong with you, creep?!” She yells, scrambling back onto her feet. She crosses her arms and turns her back to him, cursing under her breath. “Idiot, you're a stupid idiot. Idiot!”

Kaneki swallows, trying to collect himself, and leaning back against the ground, he places an arm over his eyes. Even now, he can feel the warmth of her body against his. They've never been so close before and it left his mind scrambled. He sneaks a look over to Touka, who continues to huff and puff out muttered insults, and he's reminded of the pressure of her foot against his chest. The feeling lingers, even now. He quickly shakes his head and pulls himself back onto his feet, his face warm.

“This is your fault.” He mutters, though Touka can hear it clearly enough.

“What?!” Touka turns back to him scowling. “Do you want me to kill you?!”

They continue to squabble about who's at fault as they make their way out of the underground space, neither unable to meet the other's eyes. Within an instant, their perceptions of each other have warped into something indescribable, their feelings shifting into something more vague, more intense, more complex than anything they've felt before. And it stays with them for a long, long time to come, this moment between them forever etched into their minds.

[songbirdsanctuary]

This is a rewrite of an old fic of mine.

Warnings: Someone gets punched, panic attack

Word count: 1,392

The underground hum of Redstone engines filled the cavernous chamber where Docm had toiled tirelessly on his latest project—a massive tunnel bore. But Scar and Grian had come by, and he saw that they had blown it up.

"Scar! Grian! What in the world were you two doing down here?" Docm's voice echoed through the cavern, laced with frustration and anger.

Scar and Grian sheepishly walked further into the chamber, guilt written across their faces as they surveyed the damage they had caused. "We just wanted to test it out," Scar mumbled, avoiding Docm's gaze.

Docm's temper flared at the sight of his painstaking work reduced to rubble. "You blew up my tunnel bore!" he roared, his voice reverberating off the walls.

Grian winced at the intensity of Docm's anger, his heart pounding with a familiar sense of dread. Memories of past betrayals flooded his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. His breath quickened, and his hands started to shake.

"Doc, calm down," Scar interjected, placing a hand on Docm's shoulder in an attempt to defuse the tension.

But Docm's fury had reached a boiling point, his vision clouded by a red haze of rage. Without thinking, he lashed out. Scar jumped away fast enough not to get hit, but Docm's fist connected with Grian's jaw with a sickening ‘crack’.

Pain exploded across Grian's face, but it was nothing compared to the shock of betrayal that pierced his heart. He staggered backward, the world spinning around him as he struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Panic seized him, and he clutched at his chest, gasping for breath.

The memory of Sam's manipulation flooded back with terrifying clarity. Sam had always been a master of control, using subtle threats and occasional violence to keep Grian in line. Whenever Grian had tried to stand up for himself or step out of the boundaries Sam set, the consequences had mostly been swift and brutal, like a punch to the gut, a slap across the face, but some of them were long and torchures,—Sam had been relentless in making sure Grian knew his place. The physical pain was always fleeting compared to the emotional scars, the constant anxiety of anticipating the next blow or cruel word.

Now, as Docm's punch landed, it wasn't just the immediate pain that overwhelmed Grian; it was the resurgence of those old fears, the sense of helplessness that he thought he had left behind. His vision blurred with tears, and he felt as though he was suffocating under the weight of his past.

Scar rushed to Grian's side, concern etched on his face as he helped Grian steady himself. "Hey, hey, it's okay," Scar murmured, his voice soothing. But Grian couldn't stop himself from yelling in fear, his voice rising in pitch as he backed away. "No, no, no! Stay away!"

"It's okay, Grian, it's okay," Scar repeated, trying to calm him down, but the words barely penetrated Grian's panic.

Grian's breaths came in shallow, rapid gasps as tears streamed down his face. The pain in his jaw throbbed, but it was the terror that consumed him. He felt trapped, cornered, just as he had so many times with Sam. His mind raced with thoughts of betrayal and hurt. "No!" he cried, trembling uncontrollably.

Scar tightened his grip on Grian's shoulders, his touch firm yet gentle. "Grian, listen to me. You're safe. Doc didn't mean it. He just lost his temper. You're safe now."

But Grian's mind was a whirlwind of fear and memories. "He... he hit me. Just like Sam," he choked out between sobs. "I trusted him, and he hit me." The betrayal was a fresh wound layered over old scars, and it left Grian reeling, struggling to differentiate between past and present.

Scar's eyes softened with understanding as he pulled Grian into a hug, holding him tightly. "I'm here, Grian, and Sam isn't here. Doc made a mistake, but you're not alone. I'm here, and I won't let anyone hurt you."

Grian clung to Scar, his body shaking with the force of his sobs. Slowly, the warmth of Scar's embrace began to penetrate the cold fear that gripped him. The steady rhythm of Scar's breathing, the comforting pressure of his arms around Grian—it all worked to ground him, to pull him back from the edge of his panic.

Minutes passed, though they felt like hours, before Grian's sobs began to subside. He took a shaky breath, his grip on Scar loosening just a fraction.

With Scar's support, Grian turned and began to make his way out of the chamber, leaving Docm alone with his thoughts. As the echoes of their footsteps faded into the distance, Docm sank to his knees, the weight of his regret crushing him like a tidal wave. He had forgotten about what Grian had told him about his past, about Sam's abuse and the deep scars it had left.

Docm's mind replayed the scene over and over, the moment his fist connected with Grian's jaw, the look of sheer terror and betrayal on Grian's face. He remembered the way Grian's eyes had widened in shock, the instinctive step back, and the heart-wrenching panic that had overtaken him. Docm felt his stomach twist with guilt. How could he have forgotten something so important?

The memories of Grian's confessions came flooding back to him. Grian had trusted him enough to share his painful history, the years of manipulation and violence at the hands of Sam. Grian had been so vulnerable, opening up about the times he'd been hurt, the constant fear he lived in, the way Sam had chipped away at his spirit with every act of cruelty. And now, with one thoughtless action, Docm had brought all that pain rushing back.

Docm clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "How could I have done this?" he muttered to himself. He had prided himself on being a protector, someone who stood up for his friends, not someone who inflicted pain on them. But now, he had become the very thing he despised.

He thought about Grian's reaction—the tears streaming down his face, the way he had clutched at his chest, gasping for breath. Grian's cries of "No, no, no! Stay away!" echoed in Docm's mind, each word a dagger of remorse. Grian's terror was palpable, a raw wound laid bare, and Docm knew that he was responsible for reopening it.

The depth of Grian's fear struck Docm harder than any physical blow ever could. He had seen Grian face mobs, traps, and rival players without flinching, but this—this was different. This was a fear that ran deeper than any physical danger, rooted in past traumas that Docm had carelessly unearthed.

As he knelt there, Docm's mind was a maelstrom of regret and self-recrimination. He had wanted to create, to build, to bring his friends together through his projects. Instead, his anger had destroyed not just his work, but a part of Grian's trust in him. The realization was almost too much to bear.

"I-I'm so sorry, Grian," Docm whispered into the empty chamber, his voice thick with emotion. He knew his apology couldn't undo the damage, couldn't erase the fear he'd seen in Grian's eyes. But he had to say it, had to start somewhere.

Docm resolved to make amends, to earn back the trust he had shattered. He would work tirelessly, not just to rebuild his tunnel bore, but to rebuild his relationship with Grian. He had to show Grian that he was not like Sam, that he was someone who could be trusted, someone who valued their friendship above all else.

Hours passed as Docm worked, his hands moving on autopilot while his mind remained fixated on Grian. Each brick he laid, each piece of Redstone he placed, was a step toward redemption in his eyes. He would not let this mistake define him. He would learn, he would grow, and he would make sure that Grian never had to fear him again.

As dawn broke over the horizon, casting its golden light upon the world below, Docm made a solemn promise to himself. He would always strive to be better, to learn from his mistakes, and to never again let his anger drive him to such reckless actions. He owed it to Grian, to himself, and to the friendships he held dear.

[jester-w-n0n4m3]

I finally got to write something, I hope it'll be good food :3

Most likely there are military inaccuracies to some degree

Tw: fire, claustrophobia, crushed by boulder, major (?) character death, English isn't my first language

How tf do I write static in radio dialogue?

Hungry flames crackled and popped around the abandoned mines, thick, black smoke filling the air. He coughed, leaning on one of the walls to stand properly.

He got shot in the leg and fuck did it sting like hell. But he couldn't stay still for too long, he had to get out, find a way and reunite with his team.

Wouldn't be the first time he avoided death, the soldier certainly wanted it to be the second time he did though. Reached for the radio, realizing it wasn't working with how deep underground he really was.

"Mierda." Calupoh muttered under his scarf, going onward to find a way out.

There certainly was one somewhere, one that wasn't blocked.

Calupoh made his way through the caves, barely bigger than him. The smoke was enough to make him dizzy, along with the blood he might've lost in his leg.

Whatever, he could handle it. Just a bullet. Not the first time he'd been shot.

"This is Delta 4-5 to Bravo-6, Price do you copy?"

Static.

He tried again, as he walked, more to keep something to not let the voices swirl and be louder than any of the fire or crumbling ceilings.

"This is Delta 4-5, does anyone copy?"

"Th-... Bravo-6 ... Cal-"

It cut off. But there was hope, if he was getting a response, it meant he was closer to being to the surface.

And that was hope he was going to cling too as he stumbled and tripped once or twice on the rocky ground.

"Captain?"

"... -ody muppet ... NOT- ... OUT!"

Then it cut off, Calupoh left with his thoughts in the dark that was stabbed by the light of fire.

But now, there was a different light, the sun's. The Lt found an exit.

Not wasting time and without a second thought, Calupoh sprinted towards it, not noticing how there was a rumble sound from the walls and ceilings.

A thud.

A cough.

Maybe even a gasp from the weight of heavy boulders and rocks on top of him. Calupoh could swear he heard a couple bones breaking, whether in the spine or legs, didn't matter because it hurt too much to think.

Half buried in what was the cave entrance before it collapsed.

He could see the silhouettes of a couple soldiers far away, he thought it was them, his team.

"Bravo, do you copy?" Calupoh coughed as he talked into the radio, now hoping it would actually work now that he was outside.

And yet, there was nothing, the same crackling and static that was in the cave, the same fragmented bits of his Captain's voice being heard from it. He couldn't understand anything on the comms, and before he was able to really think about coming up with something to get unstuck, a man stood over him.

Calupoh's vision was blurry, squinting his eyes with how bright the sun was.

There was one thing, though, the man held a gun pointed right at him.

"Price?" The masked Lt mumbled, thinking that it was his captain in front of him in that moment.

The soldier didn't reply, just looked at Calupoh as if judging him, coming to a decision.

'Price' pulled the trigger.

Everything went black in a second, a pool of blood now around the damaged body of a masked Lieutenant's head.

[lavendarlily]

ectoberhaunt day 10: occultism @ectoberhaunt

mccultism

words: 1698

read it on ao3

cw: death but it's funny

*THIS IS CRACK. like i lost braincells writing this. enjoy.

it's just an innocent summoning ritual.

Sam pulled up in front of Danny’s place, honking her horn twice to let them know she’d arrived. He and Tucker, with Cujo swaddled under Danny’s arm, emerged from the front door, and rushed down to the street. 

With her sunglasses lowered, Sam rolled down the window so her friends could hear her. “Get in the car bitches. We’re going culting.”

Danny scoffed at her poor joke and climbed into the front seat, Cujo on his lap, with Tucker sliding into the back. 

“Hey!” Sam protested. “Cujo goes in the back - I don’t want him jumping on the steering wheel.”

“That was one time! And I made us intangible before we hit the grocery store!” Regardless, he tossed Cujo towards Tucker, who yelped as the pup assaulted him with slobbery licks.

Turning his attention back to Sam, Danny lowered his voice. “Do you have the goods?” 

Sam wiggled her eyebrows and motioned towards the empty seat in the rear. On it sat multiple fast food bags stained with grease.

“Where’s my milkshake?” Tucker complained.

“Ice cream machine was broken.”

Tucker growled in dissatisfaction. 

Sam began driving the familiar route towards the Nasty Burger, Danny raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“What are we doing here? We already have the food.”

“Alright! I can get my milkshake!” Tucker yelled from the backseat. 

“We’re picking up Valerie from work,” Sam answered, then turned to Tucker, “and you stay in the car. We’re not staying long.”

Pouting, Tucker closed the car door and replaced his seatbelt. 

The other passenger door opened and Valerie appeared. She scooched the fast food towards the middle and slid in. 

“Hey guys,” she greeted. “Thanks for picking me up, Sam.”

“Any time, although I’m surprised you wanted to come.”

Valerie shrugged. “Nothing better to do, honestly.”

“Fair enough.” 

Cujo jumped into Valerie’s lap excitedly, Danny watching through the rearview. He blushed when their eyes met in the mirror and quickly looked away. If anyone else in the car noticed, they didn’t say anything. They were good friends like that. 

The drive was fairly long - the spot was a good forty-five minutes out of town. Sam passed the aux cord to Valerie, to Danny’s displeasure (he’d been banned from dj-ing road trips). The car was alive with chatter between the four friends, making the drive fly by. 

They eventually pulled up to an empty park. It’d been abandoned by the nearby town after a fire had ravaged it, and the town didn’t have the money to rebuild. It had since become a spot for hookups or drug deals, or in this case, a summoning ritual. 

The four headed towards a dilapidated bridge that hung over a dried creek. Walking under it, there was an entrance in the walls to an underground cave system. Danny transformed and went first to scope it out, making sure it was safe for the others. Upon returning he phased his friends down one at a time so as to avoid the dangerous descent. 

While Danny could see just fine, the others were lost in the total darkness. Tucker fumbled around until he found his friend’s arm, then broke it in half with a loud crack.

“YOW! What the fuck Tucker?” he yelled, a bright green glow simultaneously radiating from the wound and promptly lighting the cave. 

“Chill, you’ll heal in like two minutes. We need light.”

Danny grunted. “It still hurts,” he grumbled.

Ignoring the boys, Sam set down her backpack and began pulling out chalk and candles. 

“Light these,” she ordered Valerie, who was currently trying her best to wrangle Cujo in her arms, handing her a box of matches. She passed the dog off to Tucker and started on her task. Meanwhile, Sam used the chalk to draw a near perfect circle complete with a large “M” in the middle. 

Danny sat sulking in the corner, rubbing his broken arm. Cujo leapt out of Tucker’s grasp and bounced over to his beloved ghost boy, excited by the sight of the bone sticking out of Danny’s arm. 

“ Don’t bite that oOowowwWWw!!!! ”

Tucker shrugged and started helping with placing the candles. Each point where the “M” touched the circle was decorated with 1-2 candles and a variety of french fries, nuggets, and cheeseburgers. 

“Tucker! Don’t eat those!” Sam yelled at the boy, who had several fries sticking out from his mouth.

“I’m hungry. Can’t be doing cult shit on an empty stomach.”

“You’re always hungry.”

Tucker glared and swiped a nuggie. 

“Danny! Get over here. We’re about to start,” Sam yelled across the cave. Cujo let out a yarf! at her voice and bounded over, jumping up excitedly at her legs. At her look of disgust, Valerie reclaimed the pup in her grasp.

“One sec- I just gotta- OOF! There we go.” Danny had successfully repositioned the bone, skin immediately regenerating and healing the wound, and rejoined the group. He examined the summoning circle before them.

“Looks good. Just one last thing.”

Danny took Cujo from Valerie’s arms and placed him in the middle of the circle.

“Danny!! What-”

Cujo lifted his leg. 

Danny clapped his hands together. “Now it’s ready.”

They sat around the circle in a seated position, hands joined. Sam had an open book in front of her, and began rehearsing the lines. 

Magic forces

Yellow and red

We reach out to you

Beyond the dead

We call upon you

Ronaldus McDonaldai

To hear our voices

And cross the divide

Your loyal followers

McCultists for life

Summon you now

With our lasting cry! 

At this point, all four voices came together.

Ronaldus McDonaldai, Ronaldus McDonaldai, RONALDUS MCDONALDAI!

With the final cry, their voices echoed around the chamber.

And nothing happened.

The four all exchanged looks. “Did we…do something wrong?” Valerie questioned.

“I followed the instructions so carefully!” Sam whined, then glared at Tucker. “Maybe it’s because someone-”

A giant WHOOSH cut Sam off, as green fire and the smell of burning fast food engulfed the cave. 

The group screamed.

In the middle of the circle was a friendly looking clown in red and yellow garb. He blinked once, then twice, taking in his surroundings. 

Sam leapt up and bowed. “Oh Great One. Thank you for answering our call. We are the McCultists. Please bless us with your wisdom.”

The remaining teens echoed Sam. “Please bless us with your wisdom,” they repeated in unison.

The clown stared straight ahead. “Burgir.”

Sam cocked her head in confusion. “Burgir?”

“Magdonal. Burgir,” the clown recited. 

Sam looked at her circle of friends, eyes wide. They all had blank expressions on their faces, also unsure of what to make of their idol’s words.

“Great Ronaldus McDonaldai. We do not understand. What do you need of us?” she tried again.

The clown’s eyes narrowed and his mouth scrunched into a scowl.

“Burgir.”

“We don’t-”

“Burgir,” he repeated, and began violently shaking. “Burgir. Burgir. Burgir .”

The clown’s scalp split like a caterpillar in metamorphosis. The outer layer of the being peeled away slowly, revealing a featureless black body, only a mouth visible. Its limbs were disproportionately long, its lengthy fingers resulting in the hands to resemble forks. 

“B̶̔͊ͅͅu̷̧̐͐̈́̍͛r̴̗̅̕ģ̶̟͍̓̈ì̴̡̧̮̥̞͍r̵̡̞̟̗̒̌.” it hissed, then lunged at the teens.

They all screamed, and ran off in separate directions. All except for Cujo, who ran right up to the demon, wagging his tail. The demon grunted, picking up the dog and placing him on its shoulders, then ran after the teens.

It caught Tucker first - clearly upset that the boy had eaten part of the offerings. The demon unhinged its jaw, mouth growing to the size of its body, and swallowed Tucker whole. The same fate was met for Valerie and Danny, who despite their best efforts and combined supernatural powers, could not destroy the demon. 

Sam had just made it to the crawl space that led to the exit. She’d squeezed most of her body into the crevice when she felt something grab at her ankle. She screamed as the demon pulled her out, the dirt scratching at her body as she slid. 

The demon dangled her in front of its face, analyzing the being responsible for its awakening. 

“Please,” she pleaded. “What have we done to upset you, my Lord?”

“B̷̢̨͍̣̘̤̝͎͓̠͓͔̰͇͚͎̫̭͓̝͓̰̈́̑̒̒̎̋͌̑͂͗̋̎̾̐͛̍́́̒͂̀͋̾̈́͘͘̕͝͝͝͝͝ǔ̷̧̝̦̫̳̥̮̖̱̙͓̠̪̖͓̱̗̟̳͉̠̦̰̝́̃̄̎̎̋͘͜͜ͅr̷̨̳̙̦̟̭̘͂̆̑̊̊͑̃̉̅͐͌̈̃̀͆̽͘g̸̨̯̣̞̤͚͍͍̘͓͙̮̰̾̌̀̀͜ĩ̵̡̛̛̦͚͍̩̠̦̥̲̖̪̤̯͇̍̈́̾̒̅̔͋́̾̌̇̀̋̊̚͝ȑ̶̢̧̨̩̳̜̹͚͇̭͎͙̠͙͔͇͙͙̪̈́̐̓͐̂̋̓̈́͗͜͝,” it said, then swallowed her whole.

“M̶̙̈́̊m̸̧̀̊m̶̧͚̖͆͆.̸̣̾ ̵̨̱̺́B̴̻̼̑͒̈͜é̸ͅe̷͈͗͛̓f̴̝̱̈́̍ͅy̴̺̕̕.”

———————

Sam rubbed her eyes, groaning at the hard surface she’d found herself on. She slowly opened them to see her friends all in the same state of confusion. 

“Where are we?” she asked, looking around.

“Hi! Welcome to Maccers Prison. How can I help you?” a cheery voice appeared. 

In front of the group floated a ghost in a black visor and apron with a yellow and red insignia threaded into the fabric. 

“Prison?” Valerie questioned.

“Maccers?” Danny echoed. 

A ruckus from behind startled the teens, and they turned towards the commotion. A rabid miniature poodle in a fedora was running around with nuggies flying from their grasp as a blob ghost chased them, screaming for them to release the nuggies. In the corner, a woman laughed maniacally as she typed away on her computer, while a small group around her begged through tears for her to stop, something about her Torturing the Boy. Across the room a pirate was sparring with another dog-like creature, characterized by an exceptionally blocky appearance. 

“Is this…Hell?” Tucker asked.

The ghost that had greeted them brought their fingers to their mouth and let out a loud whistle that caught the attention of the other inmates. Their heads all snapped up.

“Hey! We’ve got some fresh beef over here. Care to give them their orientation?” 

The collection of beings simultaneously grinned, and moved in on the newcomers. 

“Maccers. Maccers. Maccers. Maccers. Maccers. Maccers,” they chanted. 

The teens scrambled up and looked for an exit, any way out. There was no door to be seen. Cornered, Sam pounded on the walls, hoping that by some miracle there was someone on the other side who could save them. Danny attempted to wail, but instead of his deadly cry, he made a sound like that of a squeaky toy. 

Their screams for help slowly dissipated as they became unwilling members of the Maccers Jail for eternity.

**playlist credit to @hannahmanderr & @duchi-nesten

[n3kk1tty]

Beast's of Santa Carla

(Beasts of Santa Carla is a AU of the Lost Boys. It involves adult themes, poly relationships, and is definitely not made for the underaged. If you don't like poly content, queer representation, shipping of the boys together or heavy sexual themes and violence. This story is not meant for you and that's okay. This story is made solely for my own enjoyment and anyone else who's along for the ride. )

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

If people thought the vampires were bad in the murder capitol of Californian then they would be in for a huge surprise for all the other creatures from the other side roaming around. From the succubus burlesque club to the witch shops selling god knows what. This town was riddled full of things people thought only existed in fantasy. It wasn't hard for this place to swallow people whole or pull them into this underworld.

Santa Carla was in fact a natural crossroads for the super natural and had long been established as a Pardoned territory for demonic kinds to hunt live and thrive. A underground society built under another a thin mocking of humanity's own social constructs held together by a mutual understanding , respect, and rules.

Rules set in stone such as not hunting in others territories. The board walk was strictly for Max and his pack of feral vampires and that's where they were supposed to stay. Everyone knew that a lot of what Max did was taboo in Vampiric society but with everyone too busy governing their own groups no one stuck there nose where it shouldn't be.

That was until Max's unwillingness to properly teach and watch over his boys led to whispers around town that there was a group of human boys planning to make a move trying to kill off the vampires. Anyone who knew of Santa Carla's underworld knew that you don't break the balance by killing off people especially not whole groups belonging to the underbelly. This was a pardoned city after all, humans were fair game but the supernatural were most definitely not.

Like in nature prey needed predators to keep the population in check, to keep the balance. To kill off a chunk of predators in a town overflowing with visitors and wash ups all drawn to its pull all the time would completely throw everything into chaos. Disrupt the whole ecosystem. The first place secrets go to die in Santa Carla was the burlesque house. With so much alcohol, drugs, and succubi pheromones swirling in the air you'd be lucky to leave with the clothes on your back let alone all your secrets.

Intoxicated people talk and they spread rumors quickly. So when you have a drunk warlock saying he heard kids in the comic shop researching how to kill vampires you don't take it lightly. You might as well have walked in and said you were lighting all of Santa Carla on fire. This whole ecosystem worked because humans didn't know or didn't care that the supernatural were in this place. The succubi knew the vampires wouldn't treat this seriously even if they told them. I mean human kids making a threat sure didn't sound like anything to be worried about.

They were creatures of the night, strong talented hunters. Max barely even made sure those boys were properly washing their own asses let alone their safety. A warning would be useless but it only takes just one person saying someone pissed in the pool for everyone to think someone did or is going to. It couldn't hurt to offer protection so nothing would occur. The boys were strong and usually kept mischief to themselves but if even one of them got injured or let alone killed then that's all it would take for all hell to break loose.

Living in a cave left too much opportunity for someone to sneak in during the day. They needed someone to stand guard out there while the boys slept just to make sure. If it turned out just to be a rumor then all that happened was some poor demon got stuck on babysitting duty but if it wasn't then this could be what makes or breaks the balance of Santa Carla in the time span of a day. The council quickly held a meeting selecting the best person for guard duty. Knowing the vampires wouldn't be too keen on having a baby sitter this all had to be kept on the secretive side even from Max.

The danger very well could be coming from inside the group itself. It didn't take a telepath to know the vampires were having trouble converting their last few members. Having fledgling vampires running around angry about being turned along with whispers of how to kill vampires was sure pointing to something bad. So the council decided to choose a demon who barely needed rest and was talented enough at providing all protection and care that could be needed without getting caught.

If anything the council wanted the demon to always be close enough to the boys for safety while others behind the scenes worked on taking out the boys who just painted the world's biggest target on their backs. This little rumor was either gonna end with three dead kids or five dead vampires and dead vampires was an outcome no one wanted. This is how a hybrid got stuck on baby sitting duty.

To be continued... ( Chapter 1 )

( this is just a little Au I had cooking in my noggin. I hope at least this can fuel a few others craving for lost boys content or imagination for new ideas.)

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

i know they're not in the game yet but:

-avatar x dan hibiki

OR

-avatar x poison

please?

Can I do Avatar x Poison? I think she’s super cool. And sorry for the long wait! When people request something outside of sf6 I do a deep dive into their character to get a feeling of their personality. also, I didn't know if you wanted a fic or hcs soo...here are some hcs.

You’ve probably seen Poison in the background of street fights or seen her staying close to the Mad Gear Gang.

When you ask to train under her, she’ll laugh in your face and tell you to keep walking. She’s in it for the big leagues and doesn’t have time to babysit you.

But you kept coming back every time she shooed you off, so Poison would ask for you to spar against Hugo to see what you got.

Turns out, you have a lot of potential. Perfect for her Pro Wrestling organization.

She'll be your promoter alongside with Hugo.

So you better be ready, because she’ll whip you into shape. Literally.

Speaking about the big guy, you don't have to be best friends with him but you do have to play nice. Or else, you wouldn't work out for her down the line.

When teaching you some of her moves, she actually gifts you a whip of your own. Of course, it's nothing too extravagant, but it'll get the job done.

She’s not only smart, but she’s street smart. So she knows her way around the underground scene.

Poison runs on her own time, so she’s busy planning the next big thing for her and Hugo’s wrestling career.

She has the mentality that if you drag her down, she’ll leave you behind. So as her pupil, you need to keep up.

What? Do you like her? Maybe she'll give you a chance if you can give her publicity and make her a butt load of money.

If you try to kiss her when she’s chewing gum, she blows a bubble in your face to stop you.

If you smoke cigarettes, she’ll lean in close to you with an unlit cigar and light hers with the end of yours.

Don’t piss her off though, or else you’ll get a cloud of smoke blown in your face.

When Poison flirts with people, it’s usually meant as a taunt to tell them they’re beneath her. And she’ll do the same to you when you first get to know her.

Do you wear makeup? Because she would touch it up after she gets too rough with you when sparring. Poison would pull your face close with one hand and apply your lipstick with the other. Then give you a smooch for good luck.~

She’s also the type to move around at night. So she is more accustomed to the nightlife.

She’ll even take you to the club and chat with you over a drink.

No? You don’t drink? Boo. She’ll still get you a virgin mojito and call it a day.

She can get quite handsy when she’s drunk, but it's more affectionate than anything else.

She will pull you to the dance floor and dance with you all night long.

You asked her once if she’s ever fallen in love. And after a moment of silence, she told you there was this one guy, but he already had his heart set on someone else.

Poison didn't talk to you for the rest of the night.

She's a woman that comes with a high price, so how far are you willing to go for her?

When she kisses you, she pulls you closer by wrapping her arms around your neck.

And no, she has no shame if anyone sees her with you. They need to mind their business if they don't want to be wheeled out on a stretcher.

She's stronger than she looks, so she doesn't need you to stick up for her. Actually, she may take that as an insult. She's had her fair share of creeps so she knows how to deal with them.

Poison gives you small items that would benefit her in the long run. Hey isn't this jacket nice? Well, it also has the logo of her organization on it, cool right? Aw, don't be like that, she thought it would look cute on you. Plus, it's free advertising.

She would also invite you to hang out around a 24-hour diner to share milkshakes and burgers with you like they do in the movies. It's not an everyday thing, she does it after you make her a lot of money after collecting bets on your fight.

What's your deal anyway? You obviously know how to fight, so why come to her?

Huh? You want to learn about true strength? Well if you ask her, it's about squashing your opponents and coming out on top.

Poison also likes rock music, so if you didn't know. Now you do.

Her ideal date is to get tickets and watch the band members from the side of the stage.

The loud music and the energetic crowd are like ecstasy to her. And when you get her a matching band shirt with you, she'll play it off as you acting like a loyal dog. But you could tell she felt differently when you caught her playing with the hems of the shirt all night long.

Maybe you weren't so bad hot stuff.

ayesha x righteous