Scar, a 19-year-old trainee cop, chases a suspect from a bank robbery through a narrow alley late at night. The criminal-who looks disturbingly close to Scar's own age-takes a sharp corner and vanishes without explanation, leaving Scar unsettled. The disappearance feels wrong, especially given rumors that the Yakuza have begun moving into the area, dangerously close to schools and young adults. Dispatch radios Scar, clearly relieved to hear he's alive, and orders him back to the station. His partner, Cub, picks him up, teasing him gently during the quiet drive as Scar sulks over losing the suspect. Upon arriving at the station, Scar expects to be yelled at-but instead, he's met with pitying looks from other officers, which only deepens his anxiety. Scar and Cub are called into their boss's office, where they're informed of a covert assignment. The department needs someone young enough to go undercover at a local college, and Scar is the only agent who fits. The boss reveals the target: Grian, a tired-looking 19-year-old suspected to be the son of a Yakuza family head. Scar's role will be to pose as a college student and become Grian's roommate. Cub protests, calling the plan reckless and unfair given Scar's age and inexperience. In response, the boss explains why Grian is so important: his presence coincides with unexplained failures in Yakuza operations. The department believes Grian is either being unknowingly used-or quietly sabotaging the organization from within. Either way, he's a critical variable. The mission hinges on one thing above all else: Grian has to trust Scar. And Scar realizes that this assignment isn't just dangerous-it may be tied to the mysterious criminal who vanished in the alley, and it will test everything he thinks he knows about justice, loyalty, and himself.

A mysterious figure known only as Watcher lingers between hero and villain, perched above the city as a silent observer. Feared by the public but trusted-carefully-by both sides, Watcher trades in information, never identities, walking the fine line between neutrality and manipulation. When two heroes, Starborn and Hot Guy, arrive late to a tense rooftop meeting, they're met not with guidance, but with quiet judgment and a cryptic warning. The information they receive points to a rising threat: a chaotic, Western-themed villain known as the Sheriff, now forming dangerous alliances-including one with a volatile fire-wielding partner. But the real mystery isn't just the villains gathering power-it's Watcher. Dismissive, unreadable, and always one step ahead, they vanish as quickly as they appear, leaving behind more questions than answers. And for Hot Guy, one unsettling realization lingers: even after Watcher is gone... it still feels like they're watching.

[High school AU] A group of friends every year goes to the same summer camp. This year there is one boy in the group who wants to confess his fillings to the other but the other is blind. (Might later change the description)

[Clownzy] Clownpierce a bounty hunter and Branzy a engineer, travel through the zombie-infested desert to find their way to the cure that is distributed in Mexico. But deep in the desert lies great danger and horrendous truths. (Dead Rails Inspired) Cross posted on AO3 with the same name. All art in this book is by me! Rated M for: Violence and Strong lenguage

Trapped in a snowbound research station with a deadly, unidentified infection, four scientists face a dwindling clock, a corrupted transmission, and a terrifying truth: the virus doesn't just kill the body - it rewrites the mind. TW- medium violence, light swearing, and sensitive topics to some viewers. 3/10/2026 i wrote ittittd in two months between class sports and much more! im not sure if i'll ever finish it, since i did sort of drift out of the ls/uu fandom unfortunatley. if anyone wants to write the ending or, even better, has ideas for the end, please tell me! i don't know what to do for the end. i don't like ittittd very much tbf the plot circles itself and kinda never changes. im not good at writing inters i kinda just do drama drama drama but alas - kaelyn

[ART IS NOT MINE] Branzy's life is a wreck - without the fact that he was a vigilante, which basically just like setting a target on his back for heroes. Something is stolen from the villains, and they are pissed as hell. Rekrap has been trying to run away from who he once was, trying to finally be free from the clutches of a master manipulator. Trying to run away from what he did. Or Branzy is a seventeen and Rekrap a year younger. Both have serious issues. This is about the CHARACTERS, not the YouTubers. Updates on Saturdays, 11AM UTC Beta-Read by my friend Iri, @Noctis_the_Great

Wemmbu felt exhaustion creep in like a creeper stalking him through the shadows, getting closer with every heartbeat, waiting to explode. He looked up. Flame was standing on a stone block, calm, deadly, unrelenting. Wemmbu knew he was outmatched... but getting caught wasn't an option. He refused. Maybe... maybe he could fake it again. Not the invisible knight this time - that mask was shattered the moment Flame and Parrot revealed it. He scanned his inventory. Calm. Calculating. Smirk creeping across his face. With a practiced flick, he opened his elytra and shot skyward. Ignoring the arrow that pierced it, he propelled himself as high as he could, counting rockets - ten. Ten chances to put the distance between him and the render limit, to vanish from sight. And then... he grabbed the fishing rod. The one relic left to him, rotting in his inventory since the Mafia days. He flicked it with precision. One pull, one perfect swing. And just like that, he was gone. Do you want me to do that next?

Vexes and Watchers have always gone hand in hand-though not in harmony. The prevailing legend among the players tells of a twisted bond: Vexes, once majestic creatures of the in-between, reduced to little more than violent, shimmering wraiths-pets, tools, weapons-kept on a short leash by the Watchers. Most say it's abuse cloaked in obedience. Others say it's the only language these winged terrors understand. So, when a newly ascended young Watcher is given two Vexes-his first real assignment-he braces himself. He expects snarling, snapping, eyes glowing with fury and betrayal. He's read the files. Heard the tales from seasoned Watchers who boast about broken wings and conquered spirits. He's even seen footage of rogue Vexes ripping through entire bases in bloodlust. But what he gets... is different. They're small. Smaller than expected. One clings to the corner of the room, wings drooping like torn silk, eyes flickering with dim, uncertain light. The other keeps low to the ground, trembling any time the Watcher so much as breathes too sharply. Neither of them meets his gaze. Neither of them hisses, or screams, or attacks. They're kind. Gentle. One even offers him a fractured flower-where it got it, he doesn't know. They're afraid of him, but not angry. Not volatile. It's not submission... it's survival. And he doesn't understand. He's not used to Vexes being soft. He's not used to being feared like that. And the more he observes them-how they sleep curled up together for comfort, how they flinch at sharp sounds, how they whisper in a language only they know-the more questions bloom. Were the stories wrong? Were the others lying? Or had the Vexes only ever shown their claws because the Watchers never gave them a reason to sheath them? He begins to wonder: are they monsters at all? Or just victims with wings?

The Hermits shared a bond of trust and camaraderie, but there was one thing that had remained a mystery-Xisuma's appearance beneath his ever-present space suit. He had never once removed his helmet or armor in front of anyone. The curiosity surrounding it grew over time, with whispers of what lay under the suit. No one was more intrigued, or concerned, than Keralis. Keralis had always been the observant one, noticing the subtle signs that something wasn't quite right. Xisuma's movements were stiff, and the suit, though impressive, looked increasingly worn. The helmet, especially, appeared to be in desperate need of repairs, and the weight of the armor surely took a toll on his body. Keralis couldn't help but worry. Staying in that suit for extended periods couldn't be healthy, no matter how resilient Xisuma was. The pressure of the heavy armor and the way the helmet seemed to restrict his movements only added to his concern. Despite the mystery, Keralis never pressed. He respected Xisuma's privacy, knowing that trust was sacred among the Hermits. But that didn't stop him from wondering: What if there was more to the story? What if Xisuma wasn't just hiding his appearance, but something deeper-something personal? The thought nagged at Keralis. The space suit was an enigma, and Xisuma's insistence on wearing it at all times only fueled his curiosity. What would it take to get Xisuma to take it off, even just for a moment? He wasn't sure, but one thing was clear: Keralis would do whatever he could to ensure Xisuma wasn't silently struggling in that suit, even if it meant confronting the one mystery he couldn't quite solve. art is not mine

"||𝙹⚍'ꖎꖎ ʖᒷ ᓭᔑ⎓ᒷ ⚍リ↸ᒷ∷ ᒲ|| ᓵ𝙹リℸ ̣ ∷𝙹ꖎ." Xelqua of the Watchers gets sent on a seemingly easy in-and-out mission regarding Hermitcraft, but the amateur Watcher can't help but be curious about the server and the 'Hermits' that are within it. Cover Art: @TheElliPelli on X/Twitter (edited with Adobe Spark)