#Thrash 'n Treasure | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-kr8tor · 1 month

Text

Sink or Swim

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Total Word Count: 16k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, CW food mentions, CW suggestive, TW blood, CW injury, CW miscarriage mention, TW violence.

A/N: I've divided this chapter into two because of how long it is and tumblr wouldn't let me draft the post without the app crashing. So sorry for the inconvenience. I'll put the link at the end and on top.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 13 >>> CHAPTER 13 II

Hobie's throat feels like he swallowed glass. Yet, he screams until his lungs give out, until his body gives out. Fist pounding into steel, skin splitting, blood staining the metal, he continues to call for you. His ears could only hear your frantic yells, his name falling out of your lips, vomited out desperately, asking for him, calling for him to get you out.

He kicks and thrashes at the metal bars, his mind imagines the worst— nails ripped from your fingers, bones breaking, skin scraped and slashed. He doesn't need to imagine how it could feel for he had lived through it all, survived through sheer will alone. But he promised, he promised to you and in that hollow grave that it will never be filled with your body; that your own blood wouldn't spill in between his fingers.

Yet, like the knife that he is, like the one who breaks skin and bleeds everything he touches— he hurt you, shot you where you stood, when he should've protected you, shielded you from the bullet. But how could he do it when the bullet is from him? When he used the same weapon that has ended dozens of lives to protect his crew, to harm you; the only person he deems worthy of telling all his secrets, you, who is worth more than every single treasure in the world.

Maybe he should've listened to you and stayed on the island.

Hobie calls for you once again, in hopes that you hear him too, in hopes that his voice is enough to bring you hope. The lighthouse that guides you home. But he knows, he knows all you could hear are muffled sounds and the creaking from the rocking ship.

Your voice wavers, like you've been forcefully silenced. So he does the screaming for you. It's loud, tone furious, ready to scratch at anyone who gets closer.

“Hobie—” Gwen tries to get his attention as the door opens, revealing the two guards staying in the doorway, keeping their distance.

Guns are strapped to them, knives glinting in the lamp light, armed to the teeth. Hobie knows it's all for him.

“Shut the fuck up.” One frustratingly said, teeth clenched, hands kneading at his temples.

“Keep screaming and you won't get supper.” The bigger one utters, the large scar on his cheek tightens as Hobie taunts them with a grim smile. The smile he reserves to strike fear.

They stiffen in the doorway, shoulders straight, hands reaching for their weapons.

“Do it then.” Hobie says, voice guttural, hands gripping the bars. “End the screaming.” His sheer tone alone sends everyone's hair to stand upright.

No one in the crew dares to stop Hobie. He doesn't know if they're afraid just like the men in front of him or if they're biding their time to scratch and bite too.

“Come closer and end it.” He doesn't yell, and that terrifies the men in the doorway. “And you'll find out exactly what I did to Admiral Kinney all those years ago.” He can still taste the admiral's ichor on his tongue.

The hulking men share a look, sweat dripping off their brows. And with that, they shut the door behind them, returning to their post with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Cowards.”

If it wasn't a grim situation, James would've laughed.

Hobie hears Gwen sigh behind him, the liquid in her hand sloshes as she practically shoves it in his face.

“At least drink some water. For your throat.”

“No, ‘m not drinking that slop.”

Gwen has had enough, she takes him by the collar, eyes bravely glaring at her captain. “If you want to leave this ship and save her, then drink the slop, eat the fucking bread and keep your goddamn energy for when we get the window to escape. Screaming won't help, captain. It's not helping anyone.” Her jaw is set, eyebrows knitted together.

The rest of the crew stand on the side, ready to get between them if it gets physical. He'll never hurt Gwen, never even thought of it. But he can't stand the thought of his family standing against him rather than next to him. So he fixes it, you'd like it that way.

Hobie gingerly takes the cup, chugging it down in one gulp.

“Good, now eat some bread and sit down.”

“Y/N—” he starts.

“She'll be alright, she's a fighter ain't she?” He nods, “you know her better than us, so tell us, cap'n, that she will survive this.”

He roams his red eyes at his sparse crew. For a brief second he sees the ones he lost behind them. For the first time, he's glad he doesn't see you with them.

Returning his attention towards Gwen, he utters the words with the confidence of a captain.

“She'll survive this.”

—

Sitting down in the corner, he rests his poor throat, the dry bread didn't help much. It was shitty to say the least, times like this, he misses Finn. He'd beat him if he ever knew that he let the famous bloodsail pirates into the hands of a former admiral and you into the hands of someone you fear the most.

Hobie shuts his eyes for a second, he swears it's only for a second but when he wakes up with a start and the door opening with a creak, the moon is already shining outside the large boat.

When he sees you appear by the doorway, he thinks he's still dreaming.

“Ten,” He hears you say between gritted teeth. All he could focus on is you, checking for signs of an injury, he starts from your head—nothing, arms, also nothing, save for a few scratches. Then he settles on your bandaged leg, and he remembers what he did, what he did to you. Guilt and grief overtakes his body, he tries his best to hide into the background, into the wooden walls, to become part of the ship, to hide his shame. Because he hurt you, and he'll never forgive himself for what he did.

Hobie watches from his corner, defeated when you tell him subtly that you're alright. And when you called for him, called his name softly like summer wind breezing by, warm and reminding him of home— he couldn't help but oblige.

Who is he to deny the sky?

When you held him in your hands, he felt anew. Apologies spill from his mouth, eyes forlorn at the red spot on your bandages.

What is the tides without his moon?

He feels lighter when you forgive him. But his past action still haunts him, he knows it'll join the long line of nightmares that plague him at night.

“That's my girl.” He says truthfully and proudly, he feels your heartbeat hasten through your pulse.

You tell him your choice, your decision to give up your freedom for him and the crew. He feels like he was back on the revenge, facing Mathias, refusing to let you go as you offer yourself for their freedom.

His heart beats harder as you ask him to read your mother's letter. He's unsure why you would let someone like him read something as heavy as the letter. It's reserved for someone whose hands wouldn't stain the paper with crimson.

“Because I trust you.” You say, and everything aligns in his mind. Like Poseidon shaking him inside out, like the tides itself is splitting him open.

Hobie reads it with trembling hands and broken skin. Like he thought, it turns the paper pink like ink blots dirtying the pristine paper.

He dictates it, heart shattering at every tear you let out. Wiping your cheeks dry, he's careful not to let his split skin touch your softer ones.

“It's real, innit?” He asks like the earth isn't eating him whole.

“It's real.” You answer and the world caves in around him.

Hobie teases to feel the resemblance of normalcy, “little tomato?” He asks.

And you answer with a “I don't want them, just you.” Like you didn't just mend his shattering heart with one sentence. And you break it right after with a “We'll meet again, in this life or the next.”

He's terrified once again. He shakes his head as the door creaks open. “No, Y/N—”

As you kiss his wounded knuckles gently, you ask him something he can't possibly do.

“Don't follow me, please.”

Reaching for you, he should've read the last line in the letter to you. ‘Don't trust anyone’ it said, whatever it was, it's not your burden to carry, so he'll do it for you.

Hobie apologizes in his head for keeping it away from you and for what he's about to do.

—

With the dinner bell ringing, and heavy footsteps retreating, the crew takes their chance. The key opens the door smoothly. They sneak around the ship, only leaving shadows and footfalls that's barely audible.

Climbing up the steps towards freedom, Hobie spots a door at the end of a hallway. Like two hearts beating as one, he knows it's you behind it.

Miles takes his arm before he could come to you. “Don't.” He whispers to his captain. “Don't waste her sacrifice.”

“She didn't sacrifice herself.” Hobie shakes his head, scoffing quietly. “I can't leave her behind, Miles. I can't.”

“I know,” he pulls him away from the hallway. “she asked you to not follow, so don't follow.”

“If this was Gwen—”

“If this was Gwen we'd be doing the exact same thing. She wouldn't ask us to follow and we'll leave because she asked us to.” Miles spares a heavy glance towards your locked door. “I know it hurts, but we'd be in the gallows by morning if we don't leave now. We'll have another chance at saving her.”

“You don't know that.”

“I don't, but it's better to not know instead of being dead. At least we'd have a chance.” Miles tugs him further away. “Do you think it's better for her to think that she caused our deaths just because you took the chance?” His voice is determined.

“Don't hurt her like that, Hobie. It'll ruin her.”

With one last look towards your door, Hobie nods, following the others to the deck then to safety. As the dinghy drops down into the sea, and into the dark night, he hears Miguel curse his name.

He asks for your forgiveness silently.

—

Hobie and the crew finally make it to the docks without being seen by anyone. It was pure luck that no one saw or even heard them, he thanked the early morning and the still dark sky for lending them a hand.

“We need to wait for her.” He says, stretching his stiff hands from rowing the boat.

The sparse pirate crew hides in the shadows, hidden behind the dark alleyway. They lean on the grimy walls, hands cradling their fatigued heads, huffing and groaning at the aches and pains they had from their daring escape. They can still hear Miguel cursing Hobie's name, his voice ringing in their ears.

“Hobie,” Gwen calls for him. “Leave her be.”

“What the fuck?” Hobie turns sharply. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we leave her alone.” Pavitr says forlornly, eyes downcast at the dirty pavement.

“We promised her—”

“That was when we didn't know it was her actual family. Back when we all thought Miguel was a threat to her.” Yuri pipes up, hands braced on her knees. Fatigued and clearly needing rest. “I love her, Hobie, I really do. We all love her, but she's with family now. Let her be.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Miles scoffs, “We're talking about the same person right?” He stands next to Hobie, arms crossed on his chest.

“C’mon, Miles,” Gwen says tiredly. “We all heard their conversation, it's real, she's noble—”

“And what of it?” Hobie snaps back. “You were too.”

“I was.” She scowls. “But she has a home to go to, a family that's waiting for her. We need to let her be until for whatever reason she decides to stay or leave with us.” Inhaling sharply, she rubs harshly at her eyes. “Let's make a compromise then. We're all clearly feeling conflicted. I don't want to fully let her go, we all agree right?”

Everyone nods, tension running high, glares thrown about the small group. Gwen continues, “Then we stay close to her, we watch her like when we used to observe potential crew members. But this time we make sure she is actually safe and not thrown to the wolves.” Her idea reminds Hobie why he chose her as his first mate.

“I'll keep first watch,” Hobie quickly says, "we switch after I say so.”

“And when will that be, Hobie?” Yuri clasps her hand on Hobie's shoulder, comforting the man. “You haven't slept a wink, add the fact that you were stranded on a bloody island for a month, you're not in the right state for this.”

“I'll be once I see that she's safe.” His voice cracks, “I didn't keep an eye on MJ and look what happened. I-I don't want that to happen again. Please let me do it. You can follow me all you want just let me keep watch—”

“It's Y/N,” James whisper yells, he peeks around the alley, watching you slowly walk down the ship.

They all clammer to see you ignore Miguel's helping hand. Pride swells in their chest, they remember now why they can't exactly leave you behind— you're family.

As if fate is pulling the strings, you crane your neck to look in their direction. The crew ducks away, but Hobie stays, staring at you, waiting for your signal, anything to indicate that you want to run away with them.

He sees your subtle shake of your head, and with that, he hides with his crew.

“Did she say something?” Pav asks, concerned for you.

“No, nothin’” He holds his heart in his hand. “She said nothin'”

—

Hobie follows you quietly throughout the day. Hiding from Miguel's watchful eyes and your sad eyes. The crew left to rest in an inn, Miles offered to come with him, Hobie's glad he did for he found an unhitched horse in a street corner. But it could only seat one so Miles, the angel that he is, let Hobie go on without him.

“I'll take care of them.” He promises before he lets his captain go.

They all know your house, they've raided their ships before. Crates upon crates full of luxury, with the same design on your necklace stamped on the wooden sides. Hobie knows them quite well, the favourite of the king, always giving them special treatment. Yet the queen holds them at an arm's length away, but she never left her eyes away from their business. He guessed sacking random ships has its perks, gossip is one of them.

Hobie silently trots his horse, eyes never leaving the carriage you just left. The cemetery sends his nerves alight, with the crows cawing in the background, he strains his ear to listen in. He's hiding behind the chapel, the irony doesn't escape him.

The truth is revealed to you, and unbeknownst to you, he has learned about it too. His head is in his hands as he listens to how broken your voice is, tone splitting at the seams. Then his heart stops when you tell your mother that you want to stay, that you want to find the person responsible for their deaths, that the same flames burning inside him now have spread to you.

Hobie doesn't want you to go down the same path he walked on, to let the embers singe your skin, to let the fire burn you from the inside out like it had with him. You helped him through his, helped him control it. Now it's his turn to do so for you.

He cares for you, loves you for all your soft touches and gentle tone. But he's prepared to love you through your jagged edges, through all the anger that's inside you. He'd love both sides of you, because it's you, and no one else.

His foot accidentally steps on a twig as he sees you leave. Hobie almost ran towards you when you looked at the source of the sound. This time he ducks away, knowing that there's eyes on you, eyes that are prepared to take you away the moment they see him. So he waits, until there's no more eyes on you.

The next time he saw you again was when you stepped out of the carriage and into the golden doors of the palace. He's terrified for what's to come, whether or not Miguel has brought you on a silver platter for the wolves to devour.

With his guns accompanying him, he readies outside the walls of the palace until you leave, until he sees you again climbing inside the carriage.

He can finally breathe again, he doesn't have to kill this time. Not yet anyway.

Hobie tries his best to stay hidden, he bribes and lies to get inside Hazelside. Then he waits, and bides his time just to talk to you.

—

“Hazelside estate,” Miguel says when the large manor looms over the horizon. “Your family has owned it for two hundred years. Passed down to every first born child of the family.”

Acres and acres of land stretch across the vast space. Primed apple trees and oaks line the road, men and women in work clothes walk near the carriage, not even craning their necks to take a peek inside. It seems this was a daily occurrence for them.

“Two hundred years.” You repeat, contemplating how many generations owned it. “So it's mine once the papers are signed? Where would my…uncle and aunt go then?” Your mind goes through a hundred scenarios where you stay and where you decide to leave it all again.

“They have their own house. Granted it's not as big as Hazelside but it's enough for them. Knowing his majesty, he'd take his sweet time from releasing the papers.”

“How well do you know the king and queen?” You ask, eyes scanning your family's land.

Stone houses are standing miles away from the main estate, employees of the house you think. Chimneys billow out smoke whilst the sun is just about to rise. You imagine them having breakfast with their families, sleep still clinging in their lashes, hot tea wrapped in their cool hands. Opening the window, the smell of fresh apples wafts over you. Home, you think. It smells like home. Or it just reminds you of the apple tarts Jessica made for you when you were younger.

“You alright?” Miguel asks, watching you frown.

“I'm fine, just tired.” You lied, in truth, you miss them all.

“You had a hectic day, I don't blame you. You'll get to rest soon, I promise.”

How could you even think of sleeping alone? After being near him? After saying goodbye?

“You didn't answer my question.” You shift your attention from the trees to the man before you. “How well do you know them?”

“I barely know the queen, but the king? Yes, short answer? He's a moron, a buffoon wearing a crown.”

Lyla snickers next to you, head plopped on the carriage wall, seemingly asleep.

You smile, “You have a monkey for a king.”

“Once you're the Hazelside duchess, he'll be your king too.”

“Christ.” You chuckle nervously.

“Don't worry, I'll help you get accustomed to polite society.” Miguel reassures you and you still have no idea if you'll stay long enough to bear the title.

“Polite society.” You say with a scoff, “What I just saw wasn't very polite.”

“Just remember, everything here is political. Everyone here is climbing the ladder, kissing the royal asses. Some are doing it for their families, some are doing it for their personal gain.”

“Which one do you think I am?”

“Neither.” The carriage stops, horses neighing, hooves stomping on the gravel. “You're not like them, Y/N, that's why you'll end up walking all over them.”

The footman opens the door, Miguel gives you a look before coming down the small steps. He reaches towards you, helping you down. You hesitate. You still don't take his hand even with your bad leg.

The wind blows cold, goosebumps appearing on your skin, face worried at the sheer size of the manor. The glinting silvered birds catch the early morning's sun's rays. Beady eyes seemingly blinking when a cloud passes by.

Vines cling to the ancient walls, small purple flowers run along the plant and along the large windows. Strong columns line the façade, laurels carved on the marble, oak doors displaying the house sigil— your necklace bearing a similarity to it. Flower beds cradling violets lay by the foot of the building, blooming and fragrant. The smell hiding your trepidation from the dozen or so people watching you with unreadable eyes.

The staff greets you with a stiff nod, they stand on the stairs leading towards the manor. Their uniforms are perfect, perfectly ironed and clean; perfect white gloves on their hands.

A couple of them help your drunk uncle off their own carriage. He groans, head swirling, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Fancy clothes sweaty and moist, neckerchief lopsided and dirtied by ale. In contrast to his wife, who looks tired with the heavy eye bags under her eyes, she still looks like a proper noble compared to Frederick.

“Freddy—” She groans, kicking her husband's leg, “get up!”

“Darling…” he slurs, “there's two of you—oh wait…now there's three!” His guffaw fills the quiet morning.

Victoria gives up, leaving the man to the care of her staff. She walks off, huffing and puffing. She gives you a glance, “what are you waiting for? Get inside.”

Her eyes flick to Miguel who stands behind you, she immediately clamps down her bitterness. “Welcome to Hazelside, niece.” With a stomp of her heeled foot, she heads inside, no doubt seething.

“Catty.” Lyla says next to you, elbowing your side. “C’mon, your grace, before the sun gets in their eyes and sends them into a murderous frenzy.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. Something flickers in your peripheral vision, when you move your head to look, whatever it was, it's already gone behind the thick bushes.

“Y/N?” Miguel beckons you over. “It's cold out, come inside before you get sick.”

“Coming,” you call back, eyes darting around the thicket.

—

Miguel shows you around to your room in the west wing. Various historical paintings decorate the walls, wooden simple frames around them, showing the true beauty of the art without all the extravagant gold laurels around it.

Sculpted busts of your ancestors wait at every corner, marble eyes staring blankly at what's in front of them. Large windows line the walls, just outside the glass lies an expansive field of apple trees, bulbs of reds and greens adorning the branches of the mighty orchard. You stand in awe at the sight, workers start flocking the trees, picking and plucking at the ripest of fruits. The sun shines directly at the field, apples aglow with its light like red and green stars.

You lag behind Miguel as you gawp at the scenery, hand tucked inside the pocket of your gown, mindlessly rolling the pearl. Wishing the crew could see it too, wishing that he could see it and harvest the fruits with you.

Miguel calls for you, hand reaching but he retracts it back to his side. “Apples are new around here.” You genuinely smile at him, so he continues. “It used to just be hazelnuts, which still grow plenty in the estate.”

“Why the change then?”

“They didn't change, your family merely adapted. Your grandmother was the one who started planting the apple trees. Whenever she had a—” Miguel falters, you can practically see his brain turning.

“Had a what? I'm a big girl, Miguel, I can handle whatever it is.” You encourage him with a nod.

“A miscarriage,” he says lowly, “At the end of her life she planted seven trees. There was only one seed she didn't plant and that was when your mother was born.”

Your heart aches at the story even though the people in it are practically strangers to you. “Apple of her eye.” You murmur.

Miguel chuckles, turning to watch the vast orchard that spans acres upon acres of land. “It’s an understatement. She was spoiled, your mother. But she had a heart, most of her gifts almost always ‘gets lost’ somewhere.” He smiles fondly. “Strangely enough, it always ends up with someone who would benefit from it more.”

“Which one ended up getting lost in your backyard?” You smile at his rare grin.

“A lot, pocket watches, jeweled eggs, there was a kitten once. Only because her mother didn't like it.” He sighs, hazel eyes shining under the sunlight.

“You loved her.”

“I did,” he stares at you with kinder eyes. “She was my best friend, and so was your father. They both were.”

“What did you mean back at the carriage when you told me that they did the same to you?”

He swallows thickly, staring back at the outside of the opulent manor. “My daughter, Gabriella.” he says after a moment, “She was only a few years older than you. Your parents were her godparents, this was before they eloped and had you.” You can feel the strain in his voice. “She got sick…they poured everything into giving her the best doctors the country has to offer. They were at her side while I was drowning my sorrows in the navy. When they weren't by her side, they were with me. But in the end everything was all in vain.”

“I'm sorry,” you say genuinely, “I'm sorry, Miguel.”

He gives you a tight smile and a pat on your shoulder. “Even after all that they were still by my side, even when I pushed them away.” Sniffing, he subtly wipes his eye. “I didn't cross the sea and traveled thousands of miles to find you because I want us to be even. Or to pay the debt, I just wanted to find the last thing they left in hopes that I also find them in you.” His chest heaves. “I couldn't even say goodbye to them.”

There's tears in your eyes as he chokes on his own words. “I lost my friends but you lost your family before you could even meet them. And for that, I'm sorry, Y/N.” His hand shakes. “They didn't deserve what happened to them.”

“Tell me what happened to them.” You stand toe to toe with him, determined to get answers.

“Pirates, I told you they were pirates.”

You shake your head. “Do you really believe that, O’Hara? Or are you still trying to convince yourself otherwise?”

His jaw clenches, “It was pirates, Y/N.”

“Tell that to the former navy medic I call mother.”

He whispers, “the last time I looked further into their deaths I lost my Job, stripped of all my titles. I almost lost my house because of it.”

“Then tell me what you found.” You challenge him back. “Tell me who ordered it so I can live in this house in peace.”

“I don't have definitive proof—”

“Who?”

“Edward.” He says through gritted teeth. “He wanted to marry your mother, even going as far to ask for her hand. But when she refused him for your father—” he heaves. “I think he has probable cause to order the attack.”

“You were answering the man who might've killed my parents and wanted me dead?”

“How do you think that makes me feel, hm? I had my full trust in the navy, trusting the report they gave, trusted them with my whole life, even dedicating my life to them. And the moment I get a whiff of a planned murder on the only family I've ever had they bar me from the only life I've ever known. How do you think that made me feel?”

“I'm sorry you went through that but you could've done something.”

“He is king!” Miguel's voice booms around the hallway. He shifts his voice, pinching his knitted brows. “His word is law, I couldn't have done anything, even if I had proof.”

“You should've started with that instead of telling me lies, then I would've come to you without a fight.”

“There would've still been a fight.” He states matter of factly. “Hobie was ready to fight the moment I stepped below deck.”

“Could you blame him though? We both know not every single pirate crew is as nice as them, he didn't attack because you claimed it was pirates. Or that he was offended, he knows that he has done unsavoury things too. So what did you say that made him lunge at you?”

Miguel shakes his head, refusing to say anything. “It's best that you don't remember it.”

“Fine, be like that, just know that there will always be a wall between us.” Your heels clack loudly against the oak floors as you leave him behind.

—

The room they gave you was surprisingly comfortable, unlike the apartments in the palace that you explored. It's ten times bigger than the inn you were in, complete with your own bathroom and sitting room. It's all wooden walls covered in beautiful tapestries of various scenes from history— the thick cloth helps keep the heat inside. All the windows are wide open to let the cool air in and the moonlight. So you could hear the rustling of the trees outside, so you could smell the crisp apples. It helps, you think as you sit in front of the large stone fireplace with birds engraved in every corner of the stone.

You're already sick of the bloody birds.

You wrap the fur blanket closer to your body, still in your gown, refusing to wear anything else they've provided for you. You've heard of poisoned dresses before, it's far-fetched but you can't risk it now that you're in a more unfamiliar territory where your own family holds a grudge against you just for existing.

Especially now that you're alone in a large room filled with strange things. And with only his dagger to keep you safe.

Anyone would kill to be in your shoes right now, to be pampered and placed in a household that can provide for all your needs. If it weren't for the hunger in you, you would've left all of the gold in this house just to get back to them. Instead, the fire has you in its hold too.

Miguel's information only fueled the glowing embers in you, you're determined to find who killed them. But you're still restrained in this large manor, and until you can get your answers, you say their names to satiate the hunger.

“Edward and Mathias.” You say through shuddered breath, feeling if you could just say it louder, the sky would strike them down where they stood.

The pearl in your hands is warm, the shiny surface reflecting your scowl.

The flames mesmerize you as it dances in the kindling. Orange and reds illuminate your face, it's the only light in the whole room. You exhale and a puff of clouds escape your cool lips.

It's getting colder, and you're missing him.

Just when you're about to stand up to close the windows, a pebble lands near you. It thuds on the wooden floors, the sound gets your attention.

“What the hell?” You say confused. Standing back up, another flies through the open windows and into your room. “Who the fuck?” Speed walking towards the window, you almost get hit by a pebble if you didn't dodge it in time. “Hey!”

Fifteen feet below your window, you see two people dressed in their night clothes, bundled up in fur coats. They look up at you with wide eyes, like they got caught with their hands inside the cookie jar.

“Cousin!” One exclaims, a wide apologetic smile on his lips, showing you his perfect teeth. “Sorry about that! Can you come down?”

“Who in the world are you?” You ask, confused, you lean down to take a better look, hands gripping the sill for support.

“We're your cousins! I guess?” The girl next to him says, eyes shining in the moonlight, hand holding another pebble. “We waited to see you during supper and around the house but you were apparently hiding!”

“Alright, why do I need to come down then?”

“Because we want to properly introduce ourselves! Without screaming at you from below that is.” The girl shrugs, smiling prettily at you. “Please, cousin?”

“...fine.” you grumble, the dagger is still hidden underneath your skirt in case they're planning something nefarious.

They beam up at you, the girl daintily claps her hands. “Brilliant! We'll be waiting at the entrance.”

As you trudge down the unfamiliar sprawling halls, trying your hardest to not get lost in the maze-like structure. You accidentally encounter another painting of your mother.

Her name is etched on a golden plaque just below the portrait. This one was different from the one in the palace, she was stiff there, lips tightly closed into a line, eyes cold and empty. The one in front of you is warm, a soft smile on her lips, eyes shining and alive. Her dress is in lilac, golden stars adorning the bodice. She still wore the same necklace you're currently wearing, it rests perfectly on her neck. In her hand is a closed locket, you wonder whose portrait lies inside.

“Hi, mum.” You whisper into the cold hallway. “Where's dad's portrait?” You ask like she would open her mouth and answer back. With a sigh, you head downstairs.

Walking the ancient floors, the moon shines down at you, the light peeking in from the gaps of the heavy curtains. Silently, you meet with your cousins in the foyer. Carefully coming down the curved staircase, hand gripping the bannister, the boy who is about the same age as Miles meets you halfway. He reaches towards you, giving you a hand.

“I heard about your leg, I thought you'd appreciate some help.”

“You're Frederick's children?” You say, questioning whether or not you should take his hand.

“We are,” he says with a sigh. “Come on, cousin, or you might miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“The birds.” The girl waiting in the foyer excitedly says. “They're migrating.”

“Oh, I don't see why that would be so interesting.” You say as the boy flexes his fingers, beckoning you down.

“You’ll see why. Take my hand please, you look like our grandmother going down the steps.”

“Fine,” with an exhale, you take his hand. You hold his hand, a feather light touch that he barely feels, giving yourself enough time to react if he decides to do something.

“I'm Jonathan, or just John.” He says as he gently leads you down the steps. His stride is slow, waiting for your own feet to keep up. “And this is my sister—”

“Collette!” She suddenly clasps your hands when you reach the last step. “Sorry–” her tone is sweet and genuine, quickly removing her hands from yours. “I got too excited! I'm Collette, my brother and I are twins.”

“Unfortunately…” John says under his breath.

Collette jabs her elbow by his side, earning a groan from him. You see the similarities on their faces now that you're closer to them. From the slope of their noses to the curls of their hair, they look very much alike. Except for their eyes, Collette has emerald eyes that shimmer from the oil lamp she carries. While her brother has brilliant blue eyes that remind you of the sea when the sun shines above it.

You get reminded of him again.

“Who's older?” You ask teasingly, pushing the previous thought away.

“I am!” They both speak at the same time. John looks at her sister with disappointment, while Collette scrunches her nose.

“I'm five minutes older than you, Jojo.” She says with a tone you could only describe as annoyed.

“Father told me I'm the one who's five minutes older. Not you!”

“Sure,” she nods sarcastically, the lamp in her hand sways. “Because father was in the room when we were born.” Her head swivels to look at you, and you almost jump at how fast she moved. “He wasn't in the room.”

“Ah, I think I got it—”

“Like you could bloody remember.” John says with a scoff.

Before the argument could go on, you stop them with your hands on each of their shoulders.

“I need to sleep, so whatever you want to show me, just fucking show me.”

Collette stares at you with a gasp, eyes wide like you just said the darndest thing. Meanwhile, John has the biggest grin you've ever seen.

“Wow, cousin.” He says, amused. “I heard you used to run with pirates but I didn't know you got their vocabulary too. Hazelside would be more interesting now that you're here.”

“Gosh,” Collette exhales, clutching her pearls (literally) “I didn't know that word could be uttered by a woman.”

“You should try it sometimes. It's very freeing.” You chuckle at their reaction whilst you make your way outside. “Before we freeze to death, cousins?”

“The oldest should lead the way.” John takes the opportunity to rag on his still bewildered sister.

She groans audibly. “You're not the one with the lamp.”

You smile, there's a warm familiar feeling in your chest.

—

Leaves crunch under your bare foot, you've got blisters from the uncomfortable heels Miguel gave you. You'd take walking on bare feet rather than wear that torture device ever again. The only plus side of the fancy shoe is that it makes you feel powerful with every click of the heels. Walking along a path, tall apple trees carve a way for you and the twins.

“I like your dress.” Collette says right next to you, you sense her wariness by how she keeps her distance. “The color is beautiful, it's our house color.”

“Thank you, but I've been told that red suits me better.”

“Oh, I think they're right actually.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah, I'm slowly getting used to this one though.” You lift up your skirt a bit for emphasis.

“Is it true that you were shot?” John asks in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “We heard from the footmen that you were shot by a pirate when O’Hara rescued you.”

“I was, but that's not the whole story. Miguel didn't rescue me.”

“Really?” Collette's brows are raised in question and surprise. You nod at her question. “Huh, I told you we shouldn't listen to gossip.” She slaps her brother on his bicep, he winces, glaring at her. “It's bad to begin with.”

“That's the thing about gossip, Co, it's not always the truth.” He spits out.

“I knew that, pssh.” She crosses her arms on her chest, annoyed and embarrassed.

“Why are we out here again? If you're planning to ambush me—” Colette gasps loudly, like you've shot her.

“Ambush you? Do we look like we know how to fight?” She stops you from going further down the path just as you see a dark river at the end of it.

John knits his brows with a pout. “We're here to give you a warm welcome, cousin. We heard mother and father didn't even give you a tour, so I guess it falls on us to show you around.”

“At night though?” You gesture around the silence of the grounds, save for a few crickets chirping and the flowing of the lake, you're practically alone in the dark.

“Guess we're just living to our house motto, ‘carpe noctem—’”

“‘Seize the night’” Collette finishes her brother's sentence. “The ancestor who established our house was a gambler.” She shrugs.

“That's our house motto?”

“Nope!” Collette answers you. “It was our house motto.” She gestures to herself and her brother. “Before the crown granted us Hazelside, after—” John elbows her. “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, what's the actual motto?”

“‘alis volat propriis—’”

“‘She flies with her own wings.’” You translate, the siblings look at you with awe. “There's latin in medicine.”

“You know medicine?!” Collette shrieks, the sound echoing through the dark.

“Brilliant.” John murmurs.

“Oh you must tell us more!” Collette loops her arm around yours, walking side by side. “How and where did you learn it?”

“I—”

“Don't pester her, Co.” John clicks his tongue, “have you cut anyone's arm off?”

“How grim!” She exclaims.

As they lead you towards the sparkling lake, you three chat through the night by the banks of the hazelside lake. They ask about the world outside the capital, they ask about the sea and the pirates you were with. You don't tell them about all the blood and violence, deciding that you shouldn't mar their innocent hearts with stories of death. It's not yours to tell, and you don't want to traumatize the only people who don't look at you with contempt.

“So you're not mad at me or even at least a bit annoyed for showing up and taking the estate from your parents?” You ask whilst the sun slowly rises, bathing the lake in bright blue. The hazelnuts in your mouth is a welcome one since you haven't eaten a single bite since you got to the capital.

“Not really.” John munches on his own pile of hazelnuts. He lounges near the water, hand cradling his head, chewing quietly. “We were surprised at first because there have been a handful of girls who claimed to be you. Who were obviously not you.” You raise an eyebrow at his statement. “But when they told us it was Miguel who found you, we were sure it was really you.”

“Wait— there were people who claimed to be me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Collette hums, sitting close to you, hanging on to every word you utter. “They weren't very convincing.”

“The story of Miguel trying to find you was pretty famous around here. I mean, the guy abandoned his post to find a missing duchess who may or may not be alive. That was a big story back then, so a lot of women threw their daughters and young relatives at the manor's gates to get a chance.” John informs you.

“We were quite young back then, but the fakes dwindled away through the years.” Collette finishes his statement.

“‘Quite young’ she says,” he scoffs, “we were barely out of the womb, Collette.” His sister sticks out her tongue at John.

“Huh, that's probably why I haven't heard of it either, I was still young.” You wonder.

“The sun's almost out!” Collette points at the clear sky. “Get ready, cousin, because you're about to see the most gorgeous thing.”

“The birds here migrate at this time of year,” John helps you both up to your feet. You surprisingly take his hand. “like clockwork. Collette and I used to watch it with our parents before they got all…well, too much. Now it's some sort of tradition for us.”

“Look look! The trees are rustling!” She points, jumping up and down.

“Any minute now.” John smiles at his sister as she half hugs him.

The three of you wait for a sign of the birds, a minute passes, then two, then five. Yet, not even a feather flies overhead. The early morning sun shines brighter with every minute that passes. And with every minute, the twins grew agitated.

“Why aren't they coming out?” Collette asks sadly.

“I'm sure they're just getting ready for the journey.” John reassures his sister with a pat on her shoulder. “My calculations are correct, why aren't they here yet?” He questions no one.

Their slumped shoulders and frowns get to you. An idea pops in your head, and you think it's all Hobie's fault.

“Maybe they're still sleeping.” They look at you simultaneously, “I mean it's really cold out, they probably wanted to stay in bed— or nest to sleep more. I know I would want to.”

“Oh,” Collette gives you a small smile at your attempt to make them feel better. “That's probably it. Thank you, cousin.”

You grin mischievously at them, “what if we wake them all up?”

John makes a face. “How?”

You inhale, putting your hands around your mouth, you scream, “wake the fuck up!” The sound echoed throughout the field and across the lake.

Your cousins let out a loud guffaw, you giggle at their reaction. John joins in, copying your actions.

“Wake up you wankers!” He yells, exhilaration filling his chest. “I've always wanted to say that.” Chuckling, he laughs louder at the face his sister is making.

“Johnathan!” His sister gasps next to him.

“What? Try it out! Come on then! No one's out here to tell us off.” John shakes her shoulder, giving you a wide grin.

“Join us in the dark side, Collette.” You sing song, “the birds need a wake up call.”

“You won't tell mother and father?” She asks the both of you. Wiggling, she’s excited.

Crossing your heart, you promise. “I won't, I'm not a tattletale.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Co.”

“Alright.” She exhales deeply before letting loud the loudest scream you've ever heard. “Wake up, cocksuckers!” It's so loud that you swear your eardrums are blown out. Smiling, she turns towards your surprised forms.

Now it's you and John's turn to gasp.

“Cocksucker?!” You exclaim, bewildered.

“Where'd you learn that, Co?!” John pokes his sister.

“I heard it when Mrs. Williams stubbed her toe during lessons.” She said shyly.

“Good on you, sis.” He pats her back. “Good on you.”

Collette looks at you expectantly. “Good show, Co.” You wink at her and she giggles happily.

Facing towards the thick trees across the lake, the birds still don't fly overhead. There's nothing but the wind rustling the branches.

“They didn't wake up though.” She says forlornly.

“What if we do it at the same time?” Your words have them smiling again.

“Yes!” They say simultaneously.

“Ready?” They both nod, taking in air before screaming their hearts out.

“Cocksuckers!” The three of you let out simultaneously. The canopy rustles and out comes a hundred or so birds from the thicket.

You all jump up and down, arms up in greeting the birds. Their feathers shine in the sun, light filtering through their wings. Iridescent blues and whites glowing, reflecting in your eyes. Wings flapping loudly, beaks held up high as they greet the sky with open wings.

Amidst the beauty of it all, you wish that he was there to witness it.

A tear slides down your cheek. You wipe it quickly before the twins notice. Head staring up at the sky, amidst all the beauty and light, there's a darkness swirling inside you. Amidst all the life around you, you feel the opposite. And you miss him. The worst part is, you see this place becoming your home.

>>> CHAPTER 13 II

98 notes · View notes

koisuko · 6 months

Text

fem anatomy, gn pronouns, lots of fluff, short oneshot TW: none

A gentle Touch

Liu Kang x Reader on their period

They lie awake, restlessly tossing and turning, thrashing their blanket in the process. Their body in cold sweats, their head and abdomen plagued with pulsating cramps. Unfortunately it was that time of the month for them, their body undergoing a reset as punishment for a lack of life within them. Letting out an exasperated groan, y/n rises from their laid position, throwing the blankets to the side in a grumpy release. Their feet hit the cold hardwood floor, sending slight chills up their spine, quite the contrast from their heated form and warm bed. In the dead of night they reach their hand out in search of their lover's room. An intricate set of wooden doors lay ajar before them, a soft gentle light leaking from the crack into the darkness.

Liu Kang had another restless night, opting instead to meditate next to the large fiery center piece. His legs sat crisscross, his hands lightly laid atop his knees, and his eyes closed in deep serenity. He could hear light footsteps approaching, a small smile stretched across his face, he knew full well who was approaching.

As y/n entered the room, they were greeted with Liu Kang’s soft gaze and calming presence, “is there something you need, my treasure?” upon seeing the painful grimace from his beloved, his face changed to that of concern. He approached with his hands out, “are you alright, my love?” They nod their head slowly, “I am fine, just having cramps, it's making it increasingly harder to get a good night's rest.” They smile weakly, Liu Kang pulls them into a gentle embrace, “it’s a restless night for the both of us, my heart.” y/n smiles into his chest, taking in a deep breath of his scent before exhaling his sweet aroma. His body heat offering respite from their brutal hormone attack, their once tense muscles now softened in his grasp. Liu Kang guides y/n to a nearby cushion close to where he previously sat, “come, I despise seeing you in pain.” They sit down, their legs outstretched and hands resting on their thighs. What they didn’t expect was Liu Kang to sit behind them, his chest against their back and legs surrounding theirs. He used his powers of fire to bring up his body temperature, the peak of the heat in the palms of his hands. They could feel his heartbeat radiating through their back, his soft breath grazing their hair as they relaxed into him. He brought his heated palms to their lower abdomen, massaging in gentle circles on the most painful places. Y/n let out a soft sigh of relief, “I love you” they say, their eyes closed in near sleep. He smiles down at them, his glowing orbs admiring their beauty and strength, “I love you, my goddess.” Note: just a short little thing I wrote for a friend awhile ago, Liu Kang needs more loving!

#fanfic #fanfiction #mk1 #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat1 #request #requests open #mk1 2023 #liu kang #mk1 liu kang #mk1 x you #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat 1 2023

107 notes · View notes

thecreaturecodex · 19 days

Text

Scrab

Image © Oddworld Inhabitants, accessed at the Oddworld Wiki here

[Sponsored by @martyslittleusedblog. Like previous Oddworld creature the paramite, the scrab combines a very distinctive look with pretty basic mechanics. After all, in a game where your character dies to a single bullet, combat isn't exactly the developer's goal. So the good stuff is in the flavor text, which I did tweak just a little. In the games, it's implied that scrabs are pure carnivores, but both their desert habitat and ability to be farmed for food suggests something a little broader. So I went omnivore.]

Scrab CR 7 N Magical Beast This creature has four crab-like legs, each tipped with a large claw, above which grows an armless, humanoid torso. Its head is eyeless, with a large upward scooping beak, sword edged along the lower jaw.

Scrabs are belligerent omnivores native to the desert mesas and canyons of an alien world. They are extremely territorial, repelling all other scrabs from their territory except for pack members unless it is the mating season. Territorial marking is done with booming calls that carry for miles through the still desert air, but if that fails, scrabs do not hesitate to fight others of their own species to the death. Due to the harsh nature of their habitats, scrab territories are large. Most scrabs forage independently by day, and then return to a communal nest during the night to feed the young, who are communally raised on regurgitated food provided by all pack members.

The bulk of a scrab’s diet consists of roots and gourds, dug up using their shovel-like bills. They prefer meat when they can get it, though, either carrion or killed on the hoof. Scrabs find the meat of their own kind unpalatable—the one thing a scrab will refuse to eat is another scrab. This is unusual, as many species find scrabs to be delicious, albeit difficult game. Due to their homebody nature and garbage disposal physiologies, scrabs can even be farmed, although this runs the risk of the farmer becoming the next meal if the scrabs are neglected or underfed. Due to their durability and fierce nature, scrabs are also sacred animals in some cultures. The cultures that farm scrabs and those that venerate them are usually deeply at odds with each other.

Scrab CR 7 XP 3,200 N Large magical beast Init +5; Senses blind, blindsight 60 ft., Perception +9

Defense AC 21, touch 10, flat-footed 20 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +11 natural) hp 76 (8d10+32) Fort +10, Ref +7, Will +6

Offense Speed 50 ft. Melee bite +13 (2d6+6), 2 claws +13 (1d6+6) Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft. Special Attacks thrash

Statistics Str 22, Dex 13, Con 19, Int 2, Wis18, Cha 9 Base Atk +8; CMB +15 (+17 bull rush); CMD 26 (28 vs. bull rush, 30 vs. trip) Feats Endurance,Improved Bull Rush, Improved Initiative, Power Attack Skills Acrobatics +10, Climb +15, Perception +9, Survival +10; Racial Modifiers +4 Acrobatics, +4 Climb, +4 Survival

Ecology Environment warm deserts and underground Organization solitary, pair or pack (3-12 plus 100% noncombatant juveniles) Treasure incidental

Special Abilities Blindsight (Ex) A scrab’s blindsight is based on hearing and electrical signals. When deafened, or in an area of silence, a scrab is considered to have blindsense instead. Thrash (Ex) As a standard action, a scrab can lash out with its claws and beak in all directions. All creatures adjacent to the scrab take 3d6+9 slashing damage (Ref DC 20 halves). The save DC is Strength based.

#pathfinder 1e #scrab #oddworld #video games #sponsored post #magical beast

44 notes · View notes

mellowwillowy · 4 months

Text

𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬

CW: Is the title itself. GN reader.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm--" Your chanting was stopped to a halt as they used more force plucking out your fingernail. You had lost 2 so when would they finally stop?

"Ah? Did I tell you to stop?" they questioned indifferently.

You could feel your finger's flesh throbbing, waiting for the decisive moment for the fingernail to finally be ripped. Where and when did things go wrong?

Why exactly were they upset? Was it because you subconsciously spoke with the guards in a flirtatious way? Or was it because you had been ignoring them for these past few days? You knew they had always been a possessive fellow but never a violent one.

"Now, now, remember. What wrong have you committed?"

You tried to remember, but it took time.

And they were not kind enough to be patiently waiting.

"I'm so so- khukh!"

Your finger felt like it had been hit by a gush of cold wind, except that there was no longer something that kept the flesh safe. Blood oozed out from the red flesh, and so were your tears. You broke down into a messing wail, face paler than ever upon seeing them observing your fingernail before lining it up with the previous 2.

"I'm not sure if I should be so generous enough with you, what do you think?"

"P-please, XL, spare me some merc-"

They placed their gloved finger on your lip, and a smile graced their beautiful face, "It's Marlon, or have you forgotten? Perhaps I should remind you about it right now with a valuable lesson such as this?"

The statement was not just some empty threat, it was laced with proof by how their thumb felt your fleshed-out finger, threatening to press it hard to make you thrash against your bindings.

You shook your head vigorously, apologies mumbled out incoherently. You would kneel and kiss their shoes just to have them stop feeling your finger. "I-"

You tried to reason before your train of thought was cut the moment they held a tight grip on your other fingernail. If there was any deeper place in which your heart could sink then it would be a place you had felt so. Sweat, tears, and blood, all flowed out of you while mingled in horror.

They could rip your fingernail at any second they gave thought.

"I- Please forgive me! I didn't mean to hold them like that!"

They stopped feeling your fingernail, eyes trained on you as they raised their eyebrows, urging you to continue.

You remembered. It was when a man brought your hand onto their lip, kissing it. What flickered them on was the fact that you did not pull away and instead cupped the man's cheek.

You did that and it enraged them, snapping their last sense of control.

You dug your own grave.

“I- I’ve understood and I apologize for it-! N-no! Please, grant me just a slight of your mercy, my lord!”

They looked at you tenderly, lip curling into a smile that was so loving that it was sickening. You felt something cold hit you and it took a second before the pain came back to you.

They observed your fingernail again while humming a familiar tune with your cries ringing in the room. All you had left was a perfectly fine pinky finger.

“You should have realized this sooner my beloved Camellia.”

It was ironic. Despite being treasured as a fragile flower that symbolizes adoration, you couldn’t but realize that perhaps it was never meant to be you. Camellia had always been them and they were only pushing this idea onto someone else.

Because it could mean death as well.

Shiver ran down your spine, what if they want you dead? It would not trouble someone of aristocracy to dispose of a measly citizen like you. Better yet, it started to make you think that perhaps having your fingernails ripped instead was a better outcome.

It didn’t come to your mind. Of how you should have realized things would go wrong the moment this person laid their interest upon you.

Marlon was a man of respect and reputation while you were a nobody– so why didn’t you just sit tight like the arm candy you were supposed to be?

Why didn’t you act like the doll you were?

That was the true answer and you were granted a sliver of mercy by him. The proof

#yandere x reader #x gn reader #yandere oneshot #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #CatboX #XL the Capricious

69 notes · View notes

thrashntreasure · 7 months

Text

Ep54 Free Vibrating Butt Lamps For All! w/ David Yazbek! (Broadway!)

Dig a hole under another hole, because we're joined by none-other-than David Yazbek! The GENIUS composer/lyricist of the Tony/Emmy/Grammy-Winning hits such as today's musical - The Band's Visit, plus Tootsie, The Full Monty, and more. In our raunchiest, silliest episode yet, we'll chat about all-things Broadway, Led Zeppelin's 'IV', Winning Awards, Losing Awards, and what would a 'Yazbek' Jukebox Musical be called?! www.twitter.com/davidyazbek -- https://linktr.ee/TheBandsVisit

**No actual Vibrating Butt Lamps are available. Sorry to disappoint.

0 notes

codejeyelem · 9 months

Text

Moving on: Afterlife

Warning: Female Yuu/Reader, Angst, Death, Blood

The Prefect of Ramshackle died but remained in Ramshackle as a ghost.

Her ghastly form phased through the creaking walls of the Ramshackle mansion, noticing the dust accumulated under her absence before halting at the sight of her bedroom.

The mattress remained untouched yet kept in pristine condition, her desk filled with books in the same condition even after she left. From the corner of her eyes, spider webs have already begun nesting their home on the corner of the walls.

"We will always be here Prefect," a puff of smoke appeared behind her as the three ghost appeared.

Their gaze softened while the taller one let out a sad smile. The once Prefect they once knew turned no more than their fellow kin from an unfortunate tragedy.

And that tragedy happened at the Ramshackle Manor.

Engulfing Grim in rage, his blot hasten from negative energy. Being the only one in the Ramshackle manor other than the three ghost, Y/N quickly perished on the scene. Grim's speed is faster than any overblot they faced.

When Dormleaders, Staffs and students arrived at the scene. Ace and Deuce quickly sprinted to the fallen Prefect lying in their pool of blood. Ace craddling her to his chest while Deuce sobbed at her lifeless body, they quickly despaired and hunted Grim for revenge.

Crewel assessed her injuries but deemed her dead on the spot.

"Prefect?" The chubby one called, Staring worriedly at Y/N who blankly stared at the couch in the lounge.

Ace and Deuce quickly spotted Grim from the hall of Mirrors, ragely firing their magic at the beast.

"Did you know what you DONE?!" Ace screamed in pain, firing his wind magic. "Did you know what fid you do to Y/N?!"

Gtim merely growled at the hostility from the heart soldier, bearing no heed to his surroundings and fire his blue flame.

"Grim! Come back!" Deuce sobbed, he knew Y/N wanted no more than Grim being safe and taken care of. Bringing him back will make ease her worries even if she perished.

They both knew the Ramshackle Prefect treasured Grim like no other, And they too shared the same sentiment. But.

"Grim you coward!" Ace thrashed from Trey's hold, and was aided by Cater's clones while they held him back. "You killed Y/N!"

"Hey," Y/N softly spoke, not tearing her gaze from the carpet while floating in the air. "Did you know I once imagined myself dying under one of the overblots?"

"Prefect..." The three ghost glances at each other wordlessly, they phased behind her as they placed their hand on her shoulder.

"I did die from overblot but, not like this," Her half-lid eyes pondered, letting out a crude smile. "I forgive him you know, I wanted him to suceed even without me being there,"

Grim returned to his normal state, but the price was greater than they imagined. Ace punched Grim to pulp, his fury held no bounds and held back again but this time it was Leona who held him back.

Grim bolted to the Ramshackle dorm, Seeing the bloodied interior and his Prefect unmoving state. He quickly realised his actions and his ears furled.

"Y/N..." He sobbed, his cries echoed while the three ghost could only watch while crying.

The pain of not being able to help as guilt ridden to their souls.

"It's not his fault," Y/N's tears fell, biting their lips to stop sobbing. "I'm sorry for not protecting you well,"

I'm sorry for not stopping your overblot even if I knew you'll be in such state.

Y/N dreamt the beast, blue flames bursting around his neck and ears. Intricate lines of blot on his face and sharp claws itching to hunt. Wings sprouted from his back and octopus arms grabbing things to throw.

"I'm sorry Ace, Deuce," Y/N promised them she would come to their homeland. Living with them till the end of their lives.

"I'm sorry Ace," Y/N and Ace planned to date at his hometown. Already informing the Headmaster to their vacation with Ace secretly wanted Y/N to meet his family.

A knock came at her door, snapping out of the three ghost trance before they flew to the door. The door opened revealing a bright orange hair and scarlet eyes glancing at the three ghost in acknowledgement.

"Good Morning Ace," They greeted but only got a nod in response.

The heart soldier wandered at hall and paused, turning his attention to the portrait on the wall. The Prefect's e/c shining brightly and her smile felt eerily similar to the deceased Y/N. She wore the Ramshackle Uniform with Grim on her lap, smirking from the attention.

"The headmaster drew the painting himself," the thin ghost spoke, Noticing Ace intently staring at the portrait. "Wanting to preserved Y/N's memory,"

"That rascal doesn't deserve to be there," He snorted, but made no attempt to move from his spot.

His actions go noticed from the three, Ace is notorious at destroying Grim's things or at least anything that reminds him of Grim. Be it his pictures, lab potions that Grim often mixed up, and blue flame.

"Ace," Y/N phased by his side, Already expecting his presence.

But unlike the three ghost, Ace couldn't see or hear Y/N's ghost. Nor anyone who visit the Ramshackle manor couldn't see or hear the Prefect. The three ghost wanted to tell the students and yet bubbles formulated whenever they wished to tell them. Be it discreetly or indiscreet.

Throughout Ace's years in NRC, he often wandered around the Ramshackle dorm. Be it from amusement or wanting to be alone.

Y/N could only watch and phased to his side, listening to his woes and pleas for her to come back.

"But I'm here," She whispered, staring at Ace's sleeping form on the couch.

And yet, Y/N could feel Ace changed.

Y/N could see him smiling, back to his old card tricks, even laughing. Slowly returning to his old self. Y/N felt pleased to see Ace recovering from her passing. The first year who was wrecked from her death already move forward. They still visited for a few but they already move on to their lives.

"My, time already passed so much. To think Ace became a Dorm Leader," One of the ghost praised, catching Y/N's attention.

"With Deuce second in command, ahh I could already see the upcoming chaos from around here," the other chimed, already preparing a present to Ace.

Ace rarely visit the Ramshackle Manor, but all of them prepared their gifts in case he visited.

But the day only came after Ace and Deuce graduation, it was only for a brief moment before they left.

Y/N watched from afar, peering from the window. Fingertips touching the glass while her lips let out a forced smile.

"Congratulations, everyone," Her head rest on the glass while her form slowly dissipated, leaving a feint of glow at her wake.

#Twisted wonderland #ace trapolla x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #twisted wonderland x reader #twst grim #disney twst #twst x reader

123 notes · View notes

poptartzz2 · 10 months

Note

what do you think of the ship/rare pair prowlerbyte? ^^

Oh my gosh, I think it’s absolutely adorable & precious (≧◡≦) ♡

I was going to respond with this alone, but on a whim, I decided to make my first Drabble/pentadrabble!!

I hope you enjoy!

✩⟡∵⋰ ✩⟡ Detection ⟡ Prowlerbyte ✩⟡∵⋰ ✩⟡

✩⟡∵⋰ Synopsis: It’s just a regular day of sending anomalies home, until Margo detects someone new. Even though he wears a face she already knows, she feels they’ve never met before.

✩⟡∵⋰ Content: Fluff, staring rizz lol

✩⟡∵⋰ Wc: ≈ 450+

✩⟡∵⋰ Strawberry sticky (A/N): I apologize for any errors, I literally just wrote this out lol ❀

Spiderbyte can easily find herself encountering a lot of people and things she's never seen before.

Of course this comes through the lovely job of sending anomalies home. Wherever they call home, whatever dimension they belong to, there they will go with her help.

One day, a certain anomalie filters through HQ. Apparently, he got thrashed into another earth and got himself into some trouble. As per usual.

Prepared to send yet another person home, she watches as the caged troublemaker is taken towards the platform that will put him in his correct dimension.

However, as she catches sight of his figure, something seems oddly familiar about it. About him.

Looking closely at them now, Margo pauses in confusion. This person looks like Miles, Earth-1610 Miles, but it's not. He's far from it.

This isn't her Miles and she's only met one. This Miles, drenched in a dark magenta, is permeating a rugged, raw, indelicate and crude energy, one that her Miles has never exuded.

An energy he's never had to.

As he finally reaches the platform, Spiderbyte can't help but acknowledge how calm and unmoving he is. Most anomalies thrash, groan, complain, and try to escape their scarlet ridden cells.

He however, is unmoving. Just as his eyes are now unmoving from her.

With purple cascading down his silhouette, with softly braided hair glistening in the light, cold and pain dressed eyes meet Spiderbyte's gaze, Margo's gaze, clad in darkness and confidence.

Staring at her intently now, slowly eyeing her up and down, Spiderbyte remains in Prowler Miles' vision, almost drinking her in as if he would lose sight of vengance.

Vengeance. A ravishing craving, that sticks close to the Prowler.

Vengance. A sweet and savory treasure every person craves for; longs for, as their hearts cry out for justice they may never receive.

Never looking anywhere else, even as the white mechanical spider above him works to send him home, his eyes remain on her for moments on end.

Only as the spider finishes it's handiwork, does Margo notice the glint in his eyes.

Spiderbyte. His new fascination.

Spiderbyte. The young woman who the Prowler would love to chase down in pursuit of knowledge. Knowledge about who she is, where she's from, what she likes, and what she loves.

He wants to know about her now. He wants to have her now.

"See you 'round." Miles softly grins, with heavy eyes and a mind intent on getting what he wants.

Reading the implications behind his farewell easily, Margo knows she will see him again.

In fact, she's looking forward to it.

She's got a funny habit of interacting with the forbidden, and there's no one to stop her from doing it once more.

Even as Miguel places a hand on her shoulder, and gently says, "Try me, Margo", she knows nothing will stop this Miles from prowling into HQ again, and into her life once more.

#miles morales prowler #atsv prowler #spider byte #prowlerbyte #atsv fic #fanfic #drabble

124 notes · View notes

lieslab · 5 days

Text

The depths between: Chapter three

Trigger warning: Brief mention of blood.

Chapter two

A/N: I'm sorry this is short. I'll try to make it up in the next one. I recently started a new job and I'm trying to juggle getting used to that, writing tumblr drabbles, writing a full story, and figuring out life in general.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

The moment Hyunjin’s body sank beneath the depths, he snarled. His curled fingers stretched forward and jerked down. The pliable webbing between them helped manipulate the water.

Beneath the water, despite it being night time above, sirens could see perfectly. They were each equipped with their own black and white version of night vision.

His brows furrowed once he made out the floating image of Felix staring at him disapprovingly. Hyunjin’s nostrils furrowed and he shot out a huff of displeasure.

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave cruise ships alone?”

“Fuck off!”

“You promised!” Felix shot back.

Hyunjin’s fingers curled and pressed into his palms. He hated that Felix was right, he had promised. It was the one thing he hated about being indebted to people. He felt like he owed them his life. In the case of Felix, he did.

Dark and light sirens don’t interact with each other. Dark sirens are exactly how they sound; dark, broadening, cold, and cruel. Light sirens are the opposite. When they see each other, they avoid one another like the plague.

That’s how it had always been since some of the dark sirens began to kill the light sirens. There wasn’t much of a reason why other than because they could. They were the most dominant force in the open waters. Beneath the surface, there were thousands of them just out of reach.

Hyunjin knew he was in a dangerous area. He was warned about staying away from the fishing ports, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to be the one to destroy a boat filled with people. He couldn’t help that violence was laced in his nature.

It was evening when he swam close to one of the boats. He didn’t consider that the boat might haul up their daily catch. The net shot up before he realized what was happening.

Like a venus fly trapped, he was clasped inside and enclosed. Multiple different species of fish pushed against his body. He gritted his teeth and swiped towards them, attempting to free himself.

Instead of freeing himself, he found more fish. Blood mixed with water and disoriented his vision. He jerked around against the scaled force. The fish were everywhere and there was no escape.

They pressed against his bare chest. His arms were coated in irritation from thrashing scales. A dorsal fin brushed against his ear. A different tail fin scratched the inside of his nose. When one of them attempted to swim into his mouth, he screamed.

Not far away, Felix was swimming around and observing. As a light siren, his golden tail speckled beneath the sun. He was a treasure beneath the waves, but he had been precautious in his journey to the fishing boats.

Over the past two weeks, he spent his time studying the boats and learning what nets went up at what time and where they were. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to go near the fishing boats, but nobody had stopped him either.

Now and then, he’d sneak over to a net, grab different parts, and he’d start to gnaw. It was funny to see the fisherman crews’ confusion and distress. Overfishing was a huge issue and he was happy he could put a stop to it.

The high-pitched siren sound caught his attention right away. His yellowed hair floated up everywhere as he searched the water trying to find the sound. When he found the net slowly ascending a few boats away, he took off.

He didn’t know the siren trapped in the sea of fish was a dark siren. Even if he would have known, he would have helped out anyway. Despite everything the dark sirens did, it wasn’t in his blood to hate.

Once he arrived, he jerked at the bottom of the net. Clinging to it with one hand, it pulled his body up with it. He clawed through the fibers with his nails. He tried to make it large enough that a fish could get through.

When the gap was large enough, one of the silvery-blue fish jerked itself out. Another quickly followed and then another and another. Felix grabbed more fibers and began to rip them apart.

The fish spat out and jutted off in multiple different directions. The force of escapism forced them all to shoot out one after the next after the next. They nearly blinded Felix in the haze of it all as the net continued to rise.

When a human hand shot out of the hole, Felix reacted quickly. His fingers gripped it tight and he yanked. Amidst the fish, Hyunjin’s body was jerked through the hole.

At the sweet release of freedom, he gagged and wiped his mouth. Every siren tended to have different dishes they enjoyed. Hyunjin consumed his fair share of octopus, eels, and squid. Fish were the one thing that he absolutely couldn’t stand.

“I’m going to kill all of you!” He screeched at the dispersing fish. Another gag soon followed.

Felix blinked in shock at his behavior. The fish hadn’t done anything to him, at least, not on purpose. They were scared just like he was.

By the time Hyunjin finished his miniature freak out and pouting session, an angry glare was shot towards the rising net. All that was left behind were the dead fish that had their lungs punctured by Hyunjin’s claws.

“And one day, I’ll kill you too, you fishy bastards!” His fist shook up towards the fishing boat.

It was interrupted by Felix’s laughter. Hyunjin had been so preoccupied, he hadn’t realized that there was a light siren behind him. Staring into the whites of Felix’s eyes was definitely new. He had never bothered interacting with the light sirens. His own kind said it was pointless.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” He snapped.

“You. You’re acting like they can hear you. This is your own fault and you got yourself into this predicament. Haven’t you been told to stay away from the fishing boats? That’s why you shouldn’t rush into this area.”

“I’ll kill you too.”

Felix didn’t mind Hyunjin’s negativity. To Hyunjin’s shock, Felix stuck an arm out towards him with a smile. “Hi, I’m Felix.”

Hyunjin wanted to rip his claws across his throat right then and there, but he couldn’t. Felix had just saved his life. He, at least, deserved some sort of thank you for that. A brief internal debate led him to sticking out his own hand.

“I’m Hyunjin.”

Back in the present time, Hyunjin was fuming. Felix never let him have any sort of fun. The cruise ship was the first ship that he had seen in nearly two weeks. It was the first time he’d be able to actually kill a person and Felix ruined it.

There was a thrill involved with it. The panic that engulfed a dying person was his pleasure. The way they withered while choking on salt water. He remembered the burn himself. Watching other people die the same way he had, it set off an internal blaze.

“You know how much cruise ships mean to me. Why can’t you kill something else? I’ve already told you that we’ve been tracking a group of male dolphins that keep harassing female dolphins and yo-”

“Murdering dolphins isn’t like murdering people! How many times do we have to go over this? Just leave me the fuck alone and fuck off!” Hyunjin dived further down and steered left.

“Hyunjin, you know that I-”

“Save it!” He shot back.

Felix was left with nothing, but gentle ripples from where Hyunjin once was. No matter what he tried to do, Hyunjin would never lose his malice. In their world, the dark sirens always won.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Next part: Coming soon

Taglist: @ilovetocas1 @vvislici0us @fr34k4c1dr41n @hamburgers101 @juskz @x-0ophelia0-x @viviworkshere

If you would like to be placed on the taglist for new chapters, feel free to comment below.

Masterlist

Requests, taglist, and inbox rules

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids drabbles #skz fanfic #stray kids au #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #stay #hwang hyunjin

22 notes · View notes

baek-at-it-again95 · 1 year

Text

Walk The Plank (K.HJ x fem reader)

Chapter 1: The Man in the Black Fedora

You had grown up hearing tales about the infamous pirate crew ATEEZ—the fearless, power-hungry men that roamed the seas in search of the most valuable treasures they could lay their hands on. You almost didn't believe the stories your mother had told you as a child...not until you wound up on their ship.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, weapons, and violence

A/N: Hello everyone! I am so excited to post another story! I have most of it written, but I will be posting a little at a time so I can edit. I just really wanted to get something posted before my school starts again! <3 Thank you for reading :) ALSO: though this says that it is hongjoong x reader, it is more of an ateez x reader fic until later on ;) each chapter will be titled after the specific member’s pcs from the zero: fever part 1 album.

Chapter 1: The Man in the Black Fedora

Your favorite activity is sitting in the crow's nest before the crew rises for the day. You inhale a deep breath of the sea breeze that pushes back your hair and tickles your neck. The salty scent isn't as bothersome as it was when you first started sailing. In fact, you might consider saying that you find it quite pleasant.

You have been at sea for about two weeks, seeking the Cromer. It is said to possess magic that exists beyond time and space. Your father had dreamed of getting his hands on such a powerful magic artifact, doing years of extensive research and trips to obtain it. This was the first time he had agreed to let you go on a voyage without him, as he had politics to deal with in your hometown—something you have never been fond of.

"Good morning, miss Y/N," says the barrelman, halfway up the ladder that leads to where you're perched.

"Good morning. Tell me, have we any good books?" you ask.

"I'm afraid you have read all of the fictional literature we have. The only option left for you would be to read more into the research of magical artifacts...which I am sure you are bored of."

"Oh, I could never be bored of such things. I shall take a look." You bid your farewell and carefully climb down the ladder. Growing up, you had done your fair share of reading your father's research. How could one not be curious of a concept such as magic? You weave your way around the now awoken crew, making it as far as the door of the captain's cabin before a shout resonates from the crow's nest.

"PIRATES!" The barrelman cries, pointing beyond the horizon.

Men immediately scurry to set up defenses, taking position at canons and masts. You assume action yourself, running up to an unoccupied canon. Chaos erupts around you as the crew shouts and awaits the captain's orders.

"Miss, what are you doing? We have to get you below deck!" The frantic sailing master grabs your arm, pulling you towards a hatch.

"I have to help—"

"Miss, please take cover. I cannot forgive myself lest anything unfortunate happen to you. Your father instructed us to take the most precautionary measures to keep you from harm." The man pleads, the desperation in his eyes growing as you think. You nod and he wastes no time escorting you below deck. Just before you step down, you catch a glimpse of the invaders sailing towards you. The sight makes you sick to your stomach—a flag at the bowsprit with the phases of the moon thrashes in the wind.

"But I—"

"Just stay quiet, Miss. If something happens, take an escape boat." The sailing master hands you a compass and disappears to the deck above. You hide under a table in the crew's quarters, knees tucked to your chest for what seems like an eternity.

Several gun shots ring from above deck.

Then several more.

Swords clash together, footsteps boom, men shout. Your heart races as you await any sign of safety to escape. If that flag was what you think it was—a flag of legend, of fear, of them...your chances of surviving are not likely. And then the footsteps travel below deck. The floorboards creak painfully and you shut your eyes, breath hitching. You would have thought that they would go to the captain's quarters to raid the research, but maybe they're here to raid other supplies.

Thud. A footstep sounds in your direction. Thud. Thud. You don't time to act before a large hand reaches and pulls you straight up out of your hiding spot.

"It be a maiden!" The man shouts.

"Unhand me you filthy pirate!" you yell, squirming in his grasp.

"Aye, Yunho, that's some good loot." Another man with dark hair snickers. Struggling against your captor's grip does nothing as the second man comes over and binds your wrists behind your back with rope. You silently think of your escape options, avoiding eye contact with the two men that now have a grip on either of your arms. They drag you up to the deck where the battle continues on.

The crew remains engaged in combat and hardly notice as the man called Yunho and his giggly companion pull you to a wooden plank between the ships.

"Well, Miss, after you." Yunho bows, gesturing towards the board. The second man giggles.

"Walk!" He laughs. You consider your options. You could attempt to defy them, risking your life. You could jump overboard...which would avoid dying at the hands of them, but...you really do not wish to drown. Or you can submit for now and wait to possibly escape with your life. "Are ya hard of hearing, little miss? I said walk." The shorter man with the dark hair nudges you and you stumble forward, legs wobbly as you approach the wooden plank.

Do not look down...do not look down...

Step by step, you cross the small space between the two ships, only stopping to breathe once your feet touch the new deck. There is barely any time to collect yourself before the two men take hold of your arms again and head for the captain's quarters. Though you have decided to board their ship, you will not be letting them think they've gotten away with it so easily. You kick and struggle, making it harder for Yunho and his mate to manhandle you.

"We brought you some treasure, Captain," Yunho says, gripping your arm tighter as they bring you inside.

"A feisty one." The other man snickers. You wince as they push you onto your knees, your wrists still bound and unable to catch your weight.

"Watch yourself Wooyoung, you'll hurt her," the man you assume to be the captain warns. So that's his name.

You keep your eyes trained on the scuffed floor in front of you, not wanting to meet the gaze of the captain you have heard brutal tales of. Tying people to masts for mutiny, burning towns after looting, feeding people to sharks...those were the tales of caution your father would tell you. Your mother, on the other hand, told you of brave adventurers, working endlessly to achieve what they had set their sights on. Misunderstood, driven, and admirable. Had she been talking about the same crew? You hope with all your heart that your mother was right.

"You are dismissed," the captain says. He waits silently as Yunho and Wooyoung take their leave. Once the door shuts, you hear his footsteps circle around his desk. His heavy black boots adorned with buckles enter your peripheral and stop right in front of you. "Do you have a name, Miss?" His voice is light, yet intimidating. Judging by his proper speech, you come to the conclusion that he must be well educated—not raised a pirate.

"Why is my name of concern to you?" you ask through gritted teeth, keeping your eyes to the floor.

"Well, you see, I was hoping you would be able to tell me why you were aboard such a corrupt ship."

"Corrupt? That is nonsense."

"Nonsense?" The captain repeats, amusement evident in his voice. "You were willingly aboard?" He chuckles.

"Why, of course. We are searching for something very valuable to my father."

"Ah, the Cromer?" he asks. You debate whether or not you should tell the truth, but you ultimately decide he will find out sooner or later after raiding your ship.

"Yes, the Cromer."

"You must be a L/N, I presume." You whip your head to look up at him, taken by surprise. As you meet his gaze, you almost forget what you are going to say. The man in front of you is breathtaking—not at all how you had imagined the scary and insufferable man to be. His messy brown hair is fashioned in a mullet, his body covered with a beautiful fur coat. His sharp features and pale skin are difficult to tear your eyes away from. An eye patch covers his left eye and a hook takes the place of his left hand.

"How do you know of me?" you demand.

"Your father has done a great deal of reaching to obtain what he desires...and I cannot say he is a fair man."

"My father? Corrupt?" You scoff. "How dare you?"

"'Tis no tale that we have crossed paths." His expression becomes grim as he recalls. "He stole my map."

You process his accusation, wondering if you can even take his word. How can you trust an infamous pirate making such ludicrous claims about your father? Is your father really an unjust man or is the man in front of you? "That has nothing to do with me," you state.

"Oh, but it does. Coming from a well-off family, I am sure your parents had you read their studies. You must have knowledge that is valuable to us. If you help us, I will spare the rest of your crew." He takes a hold of your chin with his fingers, some of which are adorned with colored polish. You stand up slowly and he lets go as you come level with his gaze.

"You promise?" you ask. What has gotten into you? Making a deal? With pirates? This is mad...but you simply cannot bare for any more harm to be done.

"I swear on my crew," he answers, his one eye boring into you.

"Alright...I accept. However, you will not infringe my safety as you take me along on your voyage."

"I can do that," the captain replies. He swiftly turns and exits the door with his coat flowing at his feet. You can hear orders being shouted outside, followed by dozens of footsteps. You shuffle over to the captain's desk in fear of someone new discovering you alone.

As you hear multiple people approaching, your heart rate speeds up and your breath gets caught in your throat. Suddenly, a man kicks open the door, standing tall in front of about seven others with his bloodied cutlass. Three of the faces around him are those of the men you had previously encountered.

"Alright wench, let's lay down a few rules for you."

>> chapter 2

#hongjoong x reader #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez hongjoong #park seonghwa #song mingi #kim hongjoong #kang yeosang #jung yunho #jung wooyoung #choi san #choi jongho

275 notes · View notes

broke-art · 1 year

Text

Nezha x reader

Nezha twirled his spear casually as he strolled the parameter. Guarding the map was dull work, even if it was a sacred duty. He treasured the trust that had been placed on him when he was tasked with the map's safety, but still. It got somewhat lonely sometimes.

"You look bored, soldier."

Instantly Nezha straightened and whirled around. His spear at the ready.

"Woah, woah. It's just me." Y/n giggled nervously holding up her hands in surrender.

Nezha lowered the spear.

"Y/n you're not supposed to be here." He frowned giving her a disapproving look.

"I-I know I just-" She looked away and rolled up a bit of her sleeve revealing bandages where blood had stained the white.

Nezha's eyes widened.

"Again?!" He demanded stepping closer.

Only the movement caused Y/n to flinch, so he stepped back again briskly.

Y/n had been his best friend ever since he was young. She was always there for him when he needed her. Although, he couldn't return the gesture. Y/n's father was a high ranking official, and a brutal man.

He had trained her for combat her entire life, only he was ruthless with his teachings. The slightest mistakes were severely punished and she would end up with more cuts and bruises after training than when she had begun.

Nezha had tried to report the behavior but his concerns were dismissed as her father was well trusted by the heavenly court. Everyone considered it to be for her own good if her father was so harsh.

Nezha couldn't and wouldn't agree. But there wasn't much else he could do.

"Alright, you can stay just... Stay by me, alright?"

Y/n beamed and nodded.

Her excitement softened his frustration towards the situation and he took on a ghost of a smile.

"Come on then." He walked and Y/n hurried to follow. She fell into step next to him.

"This is such a cool job." She said in awe looking around.

Nezha chuckled.

"You think so?" He asked amusedly.

"It is!" She huffed at his teasing. "You get to guard a sacred heavenly treasure and you're revered for it."

Nezha nodded.

"It is an honor."

Y/n looked around the grounds.

"Don't you get lonely?"

Nezha shook his head.

"Not particularly." But at that moment he caught her hopeful look. "Well, I suppose every now and then."

A smile bloomed on y/n's beautiful lips which caused Nezha's heart to trip.

"I'll have to visit you more often then." She giggled.

Nezha looked away quickly and coughed into a hand.

"I suppose as the daughter of a high ranking official, you could be trusted."

Y/n hugged him.

"Thank you, soldier! You won't regret it." She promised.

Nezha tensed under the hug his cheeks flaring red. But he cautiously returned the gesture.

And that was how it had begun. Y/n would visit him on a daily basis. Sometimes she would bring lunch, or snacks she knew Nezha enjoyed. Other times she would bring books to read to him, as his attention was required for his duty. And still other times she would simply come to talk and admittedly these hours made his job far more pleasant than Nezha had imagined.

Though, the days she was late concerned him. And every late day, she would stumble in with more wounds than the last time. Her nervous smiles would falter a little more each time, and worst of all she would speak less.

Nezha twirled his spear today as he walked the polished floors. Musing once again on how he might aid y/n. Reports proved to be of little use, confrontation would end in a fight possibly bringing down the ire of the jade emperor, and any alternative left Y/n at her father's mercy. Unacceptable.

"Put me down! Let go!" Y/n's shouts caused Nezha's head to snap up. In an instant he was in the great hall.

"Gosh you squirm a lot." Monkey King chuckled with a small grunt as y/n thrashed and fought in his grip. Just then Monkey King noticed Nezha.

"Nezha! Buddy! How's it-"

"Get your hands off her." Nezha growled readying his spear.

Monkey King smiled.

"Gee, I'd love to but see, I kinda need a favor first."

Nezha's rings under his feet lit with purple flame.

Monkey King seemed unimpressed with the display, but continued.

"Sooo I need the map. And I figured you're a nice guy so I brought you a present to trade." He held out Y/n like a gift with a smile. "what do ya say bud?"

Nezha released a roar as he attacked Sun Wukong.

You yelped as Sun Wukong dodged Nezha's attacks with astounding speed. All the while he ensured you didn't receive any of the backlash from the onslaught of attacks.

Finally Wukong landed on a banister quite a ways up. He dangled you over the impending drop with one hand and Nezha froze.

"Listen Nezha, I'd love to stay and chat. Really I would, but I can't this time round. So, here's your gift." And with that parting sentiment, you felt Wukong's grip vanish.

You yelped as you plummeted towards the ground. Due to the previous battle the ground was cracked and broken into several sharp bits that would surely impale you upon impact.

"Y/N!" Nezha yelled rushing towards you.

You shut your eyes preparing for impact only to feel an arm around your lower back and another arm around your hips. Slowly you opened your eyes to see Nezha.

He expression held worry and his eyes traveled over you panickedly. He seemed extremely relieved when he saw no injury.

You were about to make a comment when he hugged you against him.

"I'm ok." You promised gently. "I really am."

Nezha pulled back and studied you once again, then when he seemed to find you were unharmed he looked to where the map had laid. Sure enough, it was gone.

Guilt swept over you.

"Oh no. Nezha this all my fault, I'm so so-"

"No." Nezha cut you off simply. "This is no one's fault but Wukong's. But I must retrieve the map." He got to a stand then offered you a hand.

You took it and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

"With the samadhi fire reforged will come the end of life. Y/n if I don't return-" he looked at you. "There's something you must know."

Something about the look in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

"Yes?" You asked hopefully.

"I-." He paused for a moment considering his words. "I love you."

Your jaw dropped. You had hoped for years that he would return your feelings.

"I have to follow him, or I'll lose the map forever. Wait for me." He instructed resting a hand on your cheek then with a gust of wind he was gone.

*Yes I know this isn't how it was in the series, but this was cute and I wanted to write it so ha.*

#lego monkie kid #lego red son #jttw sun wukong #jttw #lego monkie king #lego nezha #jttw wukong #lego #lmk #redson #lmk nezha x reader #lmk nezha

192 notes · View notes

wisecrackingeric-2 · 6 months

Text

In Sickness And In Health

Summary:

Luis comes down with the flu, and hasn’t eaten all day. Luckily, his boyfriend Leon is there to make him a warm meal and help him feel better :)

Basically just sweet tooth-rotting fluff from start to finish

Fic below cut!!

A/N: this one is dedicated to @mostlyghostly42 and @mooseonahunt !!!!!!!! You guys know exactly why. Thank you very much for making me laugh so hard my lungs collapse and thank you very much for putting me in your quote book I will forever treasure this inside joke <<<<333 What’s the inside joke you may ask? I fear I cannot tell you because I will be cancelled

Anyways!!!!! I made this fic because I had the flu. Fun!! And now it’s the 696’th fic in the Leon x Luis Tag on ao3. I Wonder if any of this has any deeper meaning or if I’m just tired

—————————————————————————

To say Luis was sick would be an understatement.

Sure, he was no stranger to pain; after all, getting a knife stabbed cleanly through your spine was bound to leave anyone with at least some chronic pain-

But this was just straight up dreadful.

Luis had no clue where he might’ve caught it from, let alone from who, because he’d rarely left the house all weekend- but like some kind of cruel twist of fate, he had come down with the worst flu of his entire life seemingly overnight.

Ok. Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. Luis had dealt with worse. Like, a lot worse. He’d fallen sick to his own creations and experienced pain no single human being should have ever had to go through more times than he could count on his own two hands-

But that didn’t mean the flu he currently had didn’t suck. And he sure as all hell made it known just how bad it was whenever he wasn’t in so much agony he could hardly talk.

‘Is this really all it takes to shut you up?’ Leon had joked one morning, earning him a weak but passionate slap across the shoulder. Luis had to bite his lip hard in order to not fall into a disarray of giggles at the mere sight of Leon smiling like a sheepish young boy.

‘ Maybe you should get sick more often”

“Maybe you should get off your ass and help me, Pendejo”

“Alright, alright!! Such a drama queen…”

That was, of course, all before Luis got really sick.

In just a matter of hours, Luis was left totally bedridden. He couldn’t stand (Actually, he couldn’t stand or walk, like, at all most of the time- having a hole on your spine does that to you) and his body just felt awful.

Luis’ head throbbed with what he thought was one of the worst headaches he’d ever experienced in his entire life- his brain thrashing around in his own skull like church bells on a Sunday morning- and his chest ached and rattled with every intake of breath he took. It sounded awful, and it felt even worse. At times he just felt like holding his breath for a few seconds just to alleviate some of the pain.

His entire body felt like lead and the ends of his limbs tingled with sharp, stabbing pins-and-needles; if he dared tried to move his head or god forbid stand up, his limbs and skull held him down like a fishing lure.

But the absolute worst part of it all were the cold chills.

Every few seconds, sharp, painful chills would Wrack Luis’ spine and leave him shivering cold- colder than he should have been inside of his and Leon’s warmed-up apartment. The chills felt like repetitive, stabbing, freezing knives crawling up his back every few seconds and goddamnit he just wished they would stop already. He’d had more than enough of knives in his back to last him a lifetime, after all.

They felt almost painful, and no matter how much he begged Leon for more blankets, he insisted on keeping just a single thin bed sheet over his back as Luis curled in on himself in an attempt to gather any semblance of heat.

“ You’ll overheat if I give you more blankets,” Leon had explained. The warm hand on Luis’ forehead checking his temperature feeling like a godsend.

“ And you’re already burning up. You’ll just make yourself more sick, dove”

“Mmmmcold…….” Was all he had the energy to reply with in the moment as he brought his wrists up to his chin and whined when another chill wracked his spine.

Leon gave an ever-familiar sympathetic sigh, “ I know, I know… it’ll pass, doll. I swear.”

And that’s more or less how Luis ended up in the position he was. Curled up with his knees at his chest and his wrists tucked under his chin, feeling simultaneously too tired to move yet too sore to fall asleep. If he dare try and move from the position he curled himself up into, his body would pull him back down into the bed again like a ball-and-chain. So all he could do was close his eyes, sigh, and wait for either sleep to come or for something to happen and grant him some relief.

Luis felt Leon slip into the bed beside him, his familiar weight sinking against the mattress and even though he could hardly open his eyes to see, Luis could just tell Leon had something in his hands.

“You feeling alright, dove?”

Leon asked, his voice soft and full of sympathy. Luis very rarely ever got to hear Leon be so quiet and gentle, so as awful as the situation was, he treasured it best he could.

Luis couldn’t say anything in response. He just gave a grunt-y noise from his throat to confirm he was still alive and went straight back to feeling like dead weight.

He physically cringed when another sharp, painful cold chill shot up his spine.

And Leon must’ve noticed, because in seconds, his hands were already carding through his long, fanned-out hair and scratching the temple of his head with repetitive and reassuring scritch-scratch-scritch-scratches. Luis’ hair has grown significantly longer since when they first met, and he was surprised Leon’s fingers didn’t get tangled in his curls.

The blonde's nails felt almost heavenly against the brunette's scalp and he wished he could fall asleep like that forever.

Luis didn’t even realize a moment had passed until Leon spoke up once more,

“I made you some dinner”

That got his attention. He peeled his heavy eyelids apart and blinked at the plate Leon held in his hands; too disoriented to make out what was on it.

“It’s just some cheese sandwiches,” Leon mumbled, sounding a little embarrassed. If Luis were feeling even the slightest bit better, he probably would’ve made a jab at Leon’s American-style dish and lack of cooking skills- but honestly? His heart felt like it was melting at just the thought of his partner cooking him something while sick.

Mierda, está locamente enamorado de este hombre.

“I know it’s not a lot, but…”

Leon continued on, picking up a slice and holding it up to where Luis lay with his vision half-swallowed by the pillows. The smell of warm cheese was oddly welcome.

“But, y’know, you haven’t eaten all day, and you need something in your body,” Leon’s tone was far from upset, but he was definitely trying his best to get his point across to Luis- who, right now, felt like doing anything but eating.

“‘Sides, I made these specially for yooouuuu…”

Luis huffed as much of a laugh as he could manage at Leon’s tone, a smile barely evident on his face- but it was enough of a confirmation for Leon to take the bait.

“C’mon, you know you want iiiiiiittttt….”

“ M jus’ sssso tired….” Luis tried to defend himself, every word that came from his mouth rung in his skull and only added to the already painful headache.

He tried his best to not seem even the slightest amused by Leon, but goddamn, was it hard.

“I know you’re tired, hun,”

Leon kissed Luis’ (rather sweaty) forehead and began rubbing circles into his back when the brunette shivered yet again. And Luis practically melted at his touch; grateful for even just the smallest bit of warmth against his skin. Leon was like a walking furnace most of the time, which only made Luis want to instinctively curl up to him even further.

“But you’ve gotta eat something. You’re just gonna get more sick if you don’t”

Luis made a noise that vaguely sounded like ‘I don’t care’, but it was far too muffled to realistically be considered English at all. If even just moving his head and talking was enough to have Luis’ skull feel like it was collapsing in on him from the inside out, he shuddered to imagine what eating would feel like.

When he heard Leon sigh in defeat, Luis mentally rewarded himself for winning their make-believe war of attrition;

Only to be stopped in his tracks when he heard Leon making…. Fucking plane sounds???

“ Bbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrrr…….”

“ Leeeoonn…-“ ‘ ¿Qué carajo estás haciendo?’ Is what Lui s wanted to say, but he was promptly cut off when Leon continued;

“Uh, here comes the aeroplane…. Nyoooom…..”

“ Jesús maldito cristo- Leon!!”

Finally, finally- of all the goddamn things- that finally got a reaction out of Luis. He threw his head back against the pillow and laughed harder than he had in days. Was it painful? Oh, absolutely- his head felt like it was being slammed against a wall and his chest rattled like crazy;

But Luis would be lying if he said he wouldn’t trade Leon’s laughter alongside his it for the world.

“ You- Santa mierda- you can’t make t-those jokes!! Joder, you are a secret agent!!”

“ Special agent, actually” the ‘special agent’ smiled, clearly biting back his own laughter as Luis’ only grew more and more.

“That has- got to be- the worst joke you have ever made-“ Luis tried to make out a sentence inbetween his rattly coughs and sharp chills, but much to his dismay, Leon only continued.

“Damn, I guess I better step up my game then huh-“

“ Por favor no-“

“Ok, ok, how about this,”

Leon sat up on his haunches, finally taking the accursed sandwich away from Luis’ mouth.

“If you take at least a couple bites, I promise I’ll never make a joke that bad ever again”

“ Ever?” Luis croaked from his pillow, an eyebrow raised and his smile crooked. He could hardly make out Leon’s expression, but if he had to guess, it was probably one of dishonesty.

“I swear on my mother’s life I won’t”

“You don’t have a mother”

Now it was Leon’s turn to burst out into laughter; loud, uninterrupted and honest. Even through the pain, it was music to Luis’ ears.

“Just eat your damn sandwich, doll”

“ Mmmmmmonly cuz I love you cariño….”

Leon scratched the top of his head one last time and gave him a kiss on the forehead, chuckling breathily;

“I love you too.”

Luis managed to eat… most of the sandwiches Leon had made him. He’d gotten through two of them- conveniently leaving out the crust- before finally succumbing to his own need for sleep.

He was right in his theories, though; every single chew he took make his brain feel like it was being slammed against a wall, but at least the cold chills stopped- and everytime he swallowed, Leon gave a quiet, almost unintentional little ‘ good job’, from the back of his throat. Which probably shouldn’t have made Luis feel as warm as it did- but he didn’t have the strength to care. Or even begin to try and dissect why.

Sure, it felt rather childish to be fed like some kind of dying Victorian child- but there was something undeniably intimate about letting Leon just… take care of him. Even if just for a moment. With no guilt to follow suit. Something Luis hadn’t experienced in a good long while.

Would it be strange to say it reminded him of when his Abuelo used to make him tomato soup when he was a little boy all the way back in Valdelobos whenever he was sick? Maybe that was a discussion for another evening.

The longer he chewed, the more tired Luis grew; to the point where he was literally falling asleep with food in his mouth half-chew. Head slacking and eyes dropping closed, Leon had to pull his hand away from his mouth and tap his chin or give his head a little scratch as a reminder to not fall asleep with food in his mouth.

“ C’mon, dove,” he’d whisper, his voice full of quiet sympathy and affection.

“ You’ve gotta finish it. For me?”

“Hhhmmphh…”

“You’re gonna choke if you don’t swallow..”

Eventually, though, Luis had to push Leon’s hand away and silently say ‘ no more’. Thankfully his partner could read him like an open book and was curled up by his side in a matter of seconds, continuing to rub his back in comforting, repetitive motions.

Their foreheads were inches away from touching, and it was very apparent just how rattly Luis’ breath was; but Leon didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“ Yyyoour’re gnna catch mmy fluuu…”

“ I couldn’t care less,” Leon chuckled at Luis’ sleepy tone, closing the gap between them with a kiss to his flush forehead.

“ ‘Just means I get to spend more time with you”

Luis could hardly open his mouth to complain before Leon already had a hand through his hair, carding his fingers softly against his scalp.

“ Go to sleep, dove,”

He whispered,

“ You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Luis didn’t need to be told twice. And so he fell asleep in Leon’s arms faster than he ever had in his entire life.

And despite his body’s attempts, Luis had somehow gotten one of the best night's sleep he had ever had in his entire life.

28 notes · View notes