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punkfortress · 7 months

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Episode 1 - part 1

Music blared throughout the cramped basement, Deafeningly loud, drowning out the chaotic voices of the crowd. The names of shitty, unknown bands and various people's nicknames cover the walls.

Scotty watched the drummer intently, studying his face and his movements from the back of the venue. Everything about the drummer was familiar, right down to the way he smiled at the crowd. He wondered briefly if the man was proof his shot in the dark wasn't in vain.

The frontman called for a brief intermission after breaking one of his guitar strings, and the drummer immediately jumped up from his seat, dashing towards Scotty.

He Fucking knew it.

“SCOTTY?” The drummer shouted, jumping off the stage and jogging towards the back corner of the cramped basement.

“How the hell have you been, man?!” The drummer asked, leaning against the wall beside Scotty. “And what the hell are you doing in New York?!"

“living the American dream!” Scotty joked, grinning before his face fell "Aye... I'm jus' chasin' work. Sendin' money back home to me mam.”

He hadn't seen this man since 1998... Even with the mohawk and the piercings, he was still the same man he had known for just a month back in Glasgow.

“but… why here? It ain't the best place to be right now, y’know? ‘specially not for foreigners”

That was true. The flight over was hell, and Scotty knew there were better places to find work...

Scotty paused, holding back a wry laugh at being referred to as a ‘foreigner’.

“Ye want the truth?” he held his breath. “this is where you told me ya’ lived back in Glasgow. I figured… no harm in hopin’ to run into an old friend, yeah?”

The drummer grinned widely at Scotty's answer

“I missed you, you bastard! It's been too damn long! We've got so much catching up to do! And what the hell happened to your eye?!” The drummer was visibly excited, his words coming out in a rush as he tried fitting all his thoughts in one breath.

“Sorry, was that insensitive? Roach tells me I ask too many questions…” he mumbles to himself, Looking away from Scotty. “I gotta stop doing that…”

“Aye, lad,” Scotty chuckled, pulling the man close to him in a half-hug, “A lot happened after ya’ left,” he mused.

“we’ve got all night to catch up, though, so don't you worry.”

Scotty missed him like hell, even if they only knew each other for a short time. A month between two strangers could feel like a lifetime.

Scotty’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of yelling through the shitty basement speakers.

"REX GET YOUR ASS BACK ON STAGE RIGHT NOW!"

“Sorry, Scotty, I gotta go! I’ll be back in an hour!”

The drummer, Rex, called, giggling dumbly as he pushed through the crowd and ran off towards the stage.

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5eraphim · 1 year

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Your monster mash au is so cool!! i love when writers go up and beyond n arent afraid to get creative with the canon. Do you have any hcs for how they met their S/O?

i currently have a 3 characters per request limit goin on rn, and i used RNG to pick the characters for this request which wound up being Werewolf Scout (BLU), Satyr Demo (RED) and Bogeyman Spy (BLU) hope thats ok with you! (but i have requests open currently, so if u were hoping to see someone else, here's a link to the monster mash AU. these were pretty fun to write and i'd love to do more!) thank you so much for the request, I hope you enjoy!

Characters: Scout 🐇, Demo 🐏 and Spy 🐍 (Team Fortress 2)

Content Warnings: Yandere, toxic relationship dynamics, possessive behavior, implied sexual relations, somnophilia, reader is gender neutral

Rating: M (MINORS DON'T INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Word Count: 2.3k

MASTERLIST

TIP JAR

Werewolf Scout (BLU)

Wild, savage, fearsome, and brutal, Scout is the living embodiment of what a proper wolf ought to be. Once the runt of the litter transformed through sheer determination and force of will, Scout would do anything to maintain his position as the leader of the pack.

All his life, Scout's possessed the primal need to be accepted as well as applauded by others by other wolves as well as by other mortals and monsters desperate to convince himself it will somehow be enough to purchase the childhood trauma of being known to all as the weakest of the family.

Consider Scout falling for a friend from childhood who hasn't seen him since his days as a weakling, only to move away and disappear for years and years and return to see a radically different Scout, practically the opposite of what he once was.

Scout always had a soft spot for you but never had the nerve to confess his feelings to you before on account of his certainty you would reject him, as well as generally being much less assured of himself when he was a child. But to meet up with you again now that he's stronger and more dominant than before, it's like getting a second chance too good to be true. If he were to let you go again, he knows he'd never forgive himself.

Initially, Scout's ready to start making moves on you without hesitation. There's no way you'd forget about him or all the time spent together, and he believes with all his heart that just seeing the man he's become would be enough to convince you to start an entirely new life together. And when you inevitably refuse such an outlandish proposition, Scout's left heartbroken, confused, and unable to control his jealousy and wrath.

But he knows if he really wants to impress you to prove he's worthy of becoming your mate, Scout knows who needs to do something drastic to get your attention. Nothing less than taking the life of another in a bloody brawl, where only one will live to see the end of the fight. But not just anyone. It must be someone close to you, so when you see as a protector. Surely, if he were to kill someone close to you, you'd have no choice but to accept him as your lover, your guardian, you're everything.

Scout's never been one for subtlety; he doesn't care if taking you as his lover by force leaves you terrified and resentful. As a leader of the pack, it's his responsibility to handle tough choices like this and watch out for the well-being of the rest. Whether or not you wanted to join in the first place hardly matters to Scout. He did what he had to, and you're his living reward

Satyr Demo (Red)

Like almost all the monsters in the monster mash AU, satyr Demo never really imagined himself with the idea of a single "true love" kind of partner, though not for the same reason as the others. While many of the other monsters view themselves at odds with humanity and, by extension, incompatible with the notion of human monogamous romances. Demo, on the other hand, is more hung up on the monogamous part of these relationships rather than the human part.

Satyr Demo is seldom alone, spending his days leisurely indulging his desires for sex, wines, feasting, partying, and whatever other whims cross his mind. In a realm populated by other satyrs, nymphs, centers, naiads, primordial gods, titans, and other similar creatures in a utopia beyond human perception.

Despite his physically off-putting appearance, drawing in mortals has never been an issue for creatures like Demo. Humans are such easy prey, with fragile minds so easily swayed by temptation and eyes so easy to deceive. All it takes for Demo to get in bed with another mortal is to share a bit of wine of the gods and to only appear late at night, using the cover of darkness to his advantage to hide his inhuman appearance. And the look on the mortal's face after realizing they've given into the ethereal temptation or hypnosis and made love to a half-goat creature is priceless to Demo.

In Demo's leisurely existence, life is nothing but an endless buffet of lovers; to limit himself to one monogamous relationship forever would be self-cruelty. The idea of a mortal retaliating against him for his treatment of them never even crossed his mind, but the day that happens if his entire world shifts.

Consider yourself a mortal living in the world near Demo's realm, where mortals are endlessly tormented and played with by gods and supernatural creatures like pawns. While you can do nothing but keep your head down and try not to invoke their ethereal wrath.

Imagine yourself in a situation where a close family member of yours has just been lured by Demo. Her chastity broken, and left in a compromising position in the woods. What little garments she has left desecrated with his seed, the goat hair left around the scene of the crime, making it obvious to all around town who was the culprit. With her reputation ruined and her family disgraced, she goes catatonic. Unable to leave her own bed, practically dead to the world, unable to cope with the suffering and shame of living as one of Demo's conquests.

Her despondence fuels within you an anger you kept bottled up all your life. You could no longer live in a world where mortals were used and discarded at the discretion of the supernatural creatures. You were willing to do whatever it took to fight back, to get even a fraction of justice for all the harm they'd caused.

Against the wishes of your loved ones, you sought the help of an ostracized spinster at the edge of the town, said to know the ways of witchcraft, and willing to make bargains with mortals for supernatural favors so long as they were willing to pay the price for it.

You came to her asking if there was some way to bind the sexual appetite of the monster who hurt your loved one beyond repair, offering her the still-desecrated clothing of your loved one, knowing some trace of the beast was likely necessary to enact the hex. You wanted to end his predation of the mortals of your town no matter the cost, even if that meant invoking dark magic to do so. Offering as payment everything of value owned put the clothes on your back. While you didn't have much, the old witch smiled, assuring you this was all payment enough and that the prospect of attempting such a powerful curse was enough of an incentive, though she accepted your belongings all the same, asking again if you were really willing to do anything to put an end to Demo's reign of terror. And without a second thought, you replied yes.

The witch held up her end of the bargain, binding Demo's lust and desire, but what she didn't tell you was the actual cost of finding one's heart to perform her ritual, specifically requiring a willing volunteer to bind Demo's lust to. She needed a token of a physical object of significance from the bound one and from another, which you offered as unknowingly as payment to bind in the victim's desires to.

The night you meddled in the affairs of the supernatural, you unknowingly offered up your own soul to the witch, which she bonded with Demo's successfully. And from that night on, cursing you to bear the burden of all Demo's desire.

Demo awoke the following day with a hole in his heart and a mind-numbing need to find another lover in the mortal realm, but not in a way he'd ever felt before. Demo felt like someone was waiting for him, someone he needed to find desperately but had no idea who it could be. In a town as small as yours, it was only a matter of time until you were discovered. And the moment he set his eyes on you, he knew it had to be you.

In the following days, you had to come to your own realization of what it meant to bind someone's heart. To understand it wasn't a hex to do no harm but to force one person alone to endure the entire weight of his desire.

Living as Demo's' sole lover was a paradise, but not from your perspective. Bestowed with eternal youth, food of the gods, orgiastic dances with supernatural creatures, the suffering of humanity far away, and the undying devotion of a god. You had no choice but to comply.

You were given all you could ask for so long as you never long to stray from Demo's side, or god forbid, ever asked to go home.

Bogeyman Spy (BLU)

No one knows the meaning of need like Spy. He's watched the rise and fall of empires, the brutality of war, and the skirmishes between mortal and the supernatural. The only thing he's never found was another creature like himself.

As long as Spy's walked the Earth, and for as long as he's interacted with humans, he's known nothing but hunger for human fear and pain, seeing them as merely a food source.

This life of isolation and callousness is all he's ever known. Perhaps existence is a lonely one, but Spy fails to see the value in a human emotional connection. He never had a heart to hold.

But just because he doesn't believe he has a heart doesn't mean one never existed at all. Despite his years upon years of emotional repression, he too yearns to be understood and cared for like the mortals he claims such dominion over. Still, he refuses to admit it to himself.

He may be immortal, but despite what he would like to believe, Spy is no god. And he was just as susceptible to the strings of fate as any other, and it was only a matter of time before the gods fated his heartstrings to be pulled by another ordinary mortal, the last kind of person Spy would've ever expected to foster sympathy for.

He couldn't even comprehend what was happening the night that finally happened.

It was just another night like any other Spy approaching you while you slept soundly, the optimal time to put you into a deep nightmare. But something about the sight of you, a vision of tranquility made beautiful by the moonlight and mysterious by dark shadows, he couldn't help but hesitate to disturb you.

Nevertheless, Spy was prepared to do what he must to get his nightly fix, but before he could enter your dreams, Spy realized your psyche was already charged with sexual energy, the sign of a dream already in progress. Nothing he hadn't seen before, but in the moment, he was paralyzed and entirely captivated.

More cautiously than ever before, he dared take a taste of the energy flowing through you, and after just one sampling, he was hooked.

Hours stretch on, but Spy can't bring himself to leave your bedside, watching your energy waxing and waning as you fall in and out of a state of deep slumber. Before he realizes it, daylight comes, forcing him to concede he's out of time.

Deep within, Spy feels a different kind of hunger awakening, but something more complex, more akin to a yearning. A hunger that cannot be satisfied with a full stomach.

For the following few days, he couldn't bring himself to feed as he normally would. His hunger was there, as it always was, and he could feel the pain of an empty stomach but couldn't work up an appetite for anything but you.

By day three, he could stay away from you no longer and caved to the desire to feed, finding himself back at your bedside, his hunger for you as strong as ever.

He will try to convince himself he's better off without you, lying to himself that it's only a matter of time before his obsession fades and what he feels now won't last. After all, you were only a mortal, though it's impossible to ignore the instant panic he feels thinking of you passing away. Not only because this would mean the end of you as a food source but as that pesky yearning perks up, and he can't help but fear you dying before he could properly commune with you.

Being an immortal shapeshifter with immense psychic power meant Spy had more than a few friends in high places, powerful and indebted friends.

It isn't long until he strikes a bargain with a powerful witch, granting you immortality as well as keeping you in a perpetual deep slumber, forcing you to become Spy's own personal little sleeping beauty. Eternally preserved just for him, keeping you alive by nourishing your spirit with safety and fear.

While in this state, it isn't long until the confusion sets in. You feel alone, have no idea where you are, and can't shake the feeling of being watched. You feel like you're trapped in a cage, a comfortable one, but a cage you can't escape from. Stuck in a dream you can awaken from.

Spy knows he could awaken you at any moment and might even understand some level he will have to eventually, but he still intends to keep it like this as long as he can. He's too addicted to the high of his hunger, finally satiated, and too sullen to bring himself to truly meet you in the real world. For the time being, he's content flirting with you in the dream world, stalking from shadows, always watching it, keeping just a step out of reach.

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