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the-kr8tor · 6 months

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Mudwood Manor

Pairing: Fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mention, TW Blood, CW injury.

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Part I >>> Part II

You lay awake alone on the plush mattress that's not your own. Morning light filtering through the curtains, shining warmth right on your cheek. Your hand roaming around the soft fur of the blanket as the clock ticks slowly to eight. Eyes above the detailed swirling patterns on the bed's canopy, mind drifting back to the home you've left just a few days ago.

Tick.

Taking the ad for this house-sitting gig went better than you thought it would be. Thinking the house you would be watching over will just be a regular house in an urban subdivision. Not an estate full of ancient history situated in the middle of nowhere with only an elderly dog as a companion.

Tock.

At least it's better than your dead end job that makes you feel your soul is getting sucked with every hour you stay on the eighties musky carpeted floors, tapping away your entire life on the grainy screen of the corporate issued computer. The pay's good, better than what you were getting before anyway, even though it's only five months of house sitting it's way above your salary grade. You thank whatever entity out there that blew over the newspaper that literally landed on your lap while waiting for the bus stop, the 'help wanted' page open and glaring right at you. You only wish the job's longer though.

Tick.

The house being nice is an understatement, all oak and narra floors, fixtures and furniture made of the same wood. No sign of modernity in the entire estate. Even the kitchen is in an old style, well except for the coffee maker and microwave. Every hall and wall is covered in oil paintings, portraits of people dressed in old garb keep watch of your every move. The house creaks and shrieks during the late hours of the cold autumn night, always prompting you to keep your eyes tightly closed in an attempt to tamp down your curiosity.

Tock.

It's secluded enough that the air here feels crisp and cleaner than in the city. Trees whisper in the wind, moss clinging to its trunks. You suspect the house is as old as the woods that surround it. With vines curled and looped around the house's exterior and curved stained glass windows decorate its walls. Mudwood Manor they call it for every time it rains, mud gathers around the estate, threatening to swallow you like quick sand.

Chime!

The old grandfather clock's hand reaches eight, the sound echoes around the large room you've settled in. With an exhale, you reluctantly sit up, feet cold from the icy floor. Yawning, you wipe the sleep off your face, bones crying out in protest.

Lumbering your way through the usual morning routine, you change out of your pajamas even though no one else would see you in it, you still wear your usual day clothes, always feeling like you have to dress appropriately in this opulent house. If jeans and a jumper is considered appropriate in the massive estate.

The bathroom is no different than the rest of the house. With the large stark white bathtub in the middle of its tiled floors, twin sinks covered in dark marble, golden faucets squeak open as you turn the knob to brush your teeth. The entire bathroom is as big as your flat back in the city, you scoff at the extravagance of it all.

You like to think the owner of the place fits well with the manor, as eccentric and elegant as their home– all pearls and gold rings, silk and cashmere on their body. But alas you've never met him or them personally, only talking details on the telephone, his gruff voice vibrating against the receiver. They leave the key under the large mat after you've driven three hours to get there. The only clue you have of them actually existing is the instructions they've left you. The note now pinned on the fridge stocked full of food that could last you the entire five months, not to mention the large pantry that could feed an entire village.

You've got everything you'll ever need to survive five months alone. The thought scares you for a bit, but with the silence, fresh air and an entire library of books that you've never thought you could read in your lifetime, the loneliness isn't all bad, the place calms you down; if not for the bouts of sadness, you could see this place as your home for the time being.

The old border collie waits for you in the kitchen, mismatched eyes staring at your form, her tongue lolling on the side, greeting you with what you see as a smile.

"Morning, old Nellie" you greet back with a quick pet on her fluffy head, taking the time to scratch behind her ears. She wags her tail happily, while her eyes are closed in content. You've decided to talk from time to time so that you don't lose your voice, which Nellie appreciates the chatter.

You feed Nellie her breakfast first before fixing one yourself. She eats it in glee. The instructions written in neat cursive jumps at you every morning before opening the fridge.

You can't help but read it again.

1. Do not let anyone in.

You thought that was reasonable enough, it's not your place to invite people in here anyway.

2. Do not wipe the salt line on the doors and windows.

Now that's weird, you've always thought, but to each their own. The salt probably helps with keeping out the smell or rodents. Right?

3. The house is old, the sounds at night are from the metal pipes and scaffolding. Nothing to worry about.

Creepy, it's not like the place needs an extra creep factor added in it.

4. Feed Nellie three times a day without fail. Take her on walks around the estate every morning and before the sun sets.

That's alright, taking care of pets was part of the deal anyway. And it doesn't hurt that Nellie's a good dog to hang around with.

5. Do not in any circumstance go to the woods.

6. Wear the necklace at all times.

Your eyes drift over to the simple circular metal necklace sitting on the counter top, scoffing, you chose not to wear it just because an eccentric millionaire tells you to.

7. Only eat and drink the food I have provided.

You don't think you want to meet the owners now with how creepy they are just based on his instructions. Possessive much?

8. Be wary.

A shiver runs down your spine by just reading those two words.

You shake it off, opening the fridge, nothing piques

your interest this morning. Huffing, you have a hankering for fresh bread, alas you've eaten the last loaf yesterday. The strawberry jam inside the fridge mocks you. You recall on your drive to the manor you've passed by a small village, you're sure the place has a bakery or even a café in it. You crave a different scenery, and to use your voice other than for talking to Nellie.

Turning around, you put your hands on your hips, smiling at your companion who licks at the last bit of food in her bowl.

"What do you say for a stroll, Nellie?" She tilts her head in question, ears perking up, tail wagging excitedly.

—

You've never felt more isolated from civilization while walking towards the village, no houses run along the bumpy road, just miles and miles of trees with its aging wood, wild violets swaying around its trunks. The tall grass makes it hard to see the path. Mist blanketing and moistening the soil.

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it would be, now you're absolutely starving after walking for almost an hour. Nellie wasn't complaining though, for an older dog she seems to have so much energy in her. The village has clearly seen history, with its cobblestone streets, iron lampposts and ancient bricks. The fog thickens, blanketing the roofs of the village like marshmallow fluff.

You tie her leash around a lamp post, petting her fluffy head, you instruct her to sit and stay. She obliges, staring happily at you through her blue and brown eyes.

"Good girl, I'll be back in a flash" you make a mental note of buying her a treat for being such a good sport while you drag her from the manor.

Entering the shop, the bells chime signaling your arrival. Freshly baked bread wafts your senses as various meat is on display over at the counter, waiting for your perusal. You smell the soup of the day, judging by the aroma, you deduce it being butter squash soup, your stomach rumbles at the thought.

The modest shop has quite a few people in it. They chatter amongst their friends whilst eating breakfast and drinking their morning tea. Another patron enters behind you, she greets everyone by name, while the others immediately greet her the same. Well, except for a group of strangers sitting at the far end, they pay her no mind at all. It's a small village, you never doubted for a second that everyone would know every person that lives here. You've anticipated it actually, so used to being alienated from the crowd, you haven't noticed the old woman beckoning you over with a smile.

"Bonnie?" She calls for the third time.

"Oh! Sorry, I was thinking what to order" you move closer to the counter, the chill from the cold cuts display seeps through your jumper.

"You're the new caretaker at the old manor I presume?" She grins sweetly, showing her smile lines around her lips.

"House-sitter, I'm only here for five months" you're wary about telling her vital information, but she's an old woman. What's the harm in telling her that?

"Oh, I see he's going for a quick business trip this time. He would usually take an entire year away, y'know" her thick accent makes it hard for you to understand some of her words. Nonetheless, you don't miss the vital information about your mysterious employer. "But I don't gossip" she chuckles, "what will it be, deary?"

"You know Mr. O'hara, the owner?"

"Aye, known him since he was a lad. Good kid he was." She shakes her head. "There I go gossiping again, what are you havin'?"

You want more answers to feed your curiosity, but you don't want to pester the poor woman. "A BLT with cheese if you have them, lightly toasted and some of the soup, please." she nods, heading over to her station to prepare your sandwich when an older man chides in your conversation.

"Oh please, Orla y'know stopping yourself from gossiping just hurts you more" he laughs from his belly, white beard bouncing as he guffaws with his friends sitting him with.

"This" Orla, gestures from you to her. "Was a private conversation, where's your manners?"

"Don't know where I last put it!" He laughs again, shaking the wooden table in front of him. "Miss, let me guess, O'hara gave you those crazy rules?"

You perk up at the mention of the list. "Yeah, he did. How'd you know?"

He shrugs while the other patrons listen in, "he does the same thing to his other caretakers, there's a 'be wary' one, right?"

"Yes, it's really creepy"

The old woman pipes up, talking over her shoulder as she slices your sandwich. "It's a necessary evil after what happened to his daughter"

"What happened to his daughter?" You ask with trepidation.

"Don't tell me you actually believe that, old woman?" The older man argues back.

"Believe what?" You feel like there's an inside joke you keep missing.

"She was taken by them." Orla, turns around with your soup packed in a tupperware. You look at her questioningly.

"Bullshit if you ask me" the old man mumbles behind his mug. He sees your confused look, "she's talking about the fae" you thank him with a nod.

"It's true!" She wraps your sandwich inside foil, carefully putting it inside the paper bag. "There's no logical answer on where she is! Now it's just O'Hara in that massive estate."

"Kid just ran away, that's all!" Another older man argues back.

"Pssh," Orla swats him away with her hand, he turns away with a scoff. She turns back towards you, ringing your order up in the cashier. "Just do what his list says and you'll be fine" she says it like a warning to never stray far from the rules.

"Why do you think it's the fae?" You give her the payment she needs.

Humming, she clicks her tongue. "Just know it's them."

"Okay, um thank you" drifting away, she holds your arm back, taking your attention again.

Orla looks at you with wide eyes. "You know about them, yes?"

"Yes, like don't eat their food or you'll get stuck or don't give them your name or say thank you. I've heard the folk stories"

"Not just a story. The wood sings and they crave an audience." she lets go of your arm, your breath hitching, goosebumps appear on your skin.

You shake the thought, or try to at least.

The door chimes as you leave. Nellie lays on the pavement, tail wagging as she sees you come back to her side.

"Hi, got you something" she stands up, barking at you in excitement. "Okay, okay, here" Chuckling, you take a slice of bacon from your sandwich, giving it to her.

Nellie carefully takes it from your hand without biting your fingers, she chews happily.

"Good?" You scratch behind her fluffy ear. "Let's go back" untying her leash, you juggle the sandwich and her lead with your hands. The horror stories you've been told in your youth echoes in your mind, as your soft footfalls on the moist pavement. Wind rushes past you, pushing you back towards the manor.

—

Arriving inside the gates of Mudwood Manor, you gaze at the large brick building. It casts a shadow over you, its stature imposing. Fading bricks and trellises crawling with overgrown vines that's starting to wither and turn dark with bits of oranges and red still clinging to its last life. The large red door of the main entrance adds to your uneasiness. You attribute the fear from what the deli owner told you, the woods don't look much better. Tall trees with leaves so thick it blocks sunlight from hitting the undergrowth. From where you're standing, darkness seems to prevail inside. The thick fog added to the eeriness of the scene. It drapes over the treeline like curtains, swirling smoke falling down to the tips of your shoes, hiding something behind you can't quite see.

Just staring from the woodland edge gives you a sense of belonging with every second you stand idle. You have no idea why this feeling encapsulates you. The wind tries to push you towards the dark, flashes of autumn colored leaves swirl past. Eyelashes fluttering in the wind, your lips part as you listen to the flora dancing in the wind, as if it beckons you over. Daring you to cross the edge.

You wake up from the trance as Nellie growls at a squirrel taunting her from the ground. She pulls at her leash, the rope taut, your hand aches at the burn. You let go of the paper bag, half eaten soup spills over the grass, now holding the leash with both hands, you struggle to control the border collie.

"Nellie, calm down!" You yelp in pain when Nellie lunges, escaping your hold. The rope leaves angry marks on your palms, skin aching from the piercing pain. Nellie runs, following the grey squirrel into the woods. You can hear her barks fading in the distance. "Nellie! Come back!" You yell but it's futile as the old dog disappears from view.

"Fuck!" Without thinking, you run after her, legs carrying you further into the thick trees. The fog parts, opening the way. Eyes roaming the moss covered soil for her footprints. "Nellie!"

You're gonna lose your job, the thought makes you run faster. Tripping on a rock, you land on your already injured hand, dirt and grime sticking to the angry gashes, blood mixing with soil. Ignoring the pain, you push through the thicket.

Running, muscles aching, there's a stitch on your side as you stop to catch your breath. Hands on your thighs, you inhale and exhale. Nellie's footprints are barely visible under all the green and orange. Standing to your full height, your heart thumping like a drum under your ribcage. Eyes widening at the darkness that envelopes you, whirling around, fear overtakes your entire being.

You're lost.

Everywhere you look, identical trees fill your vision, cold seeping into your bones, smoke escapes your parted lips. Fingers turning stiff, you turn around when you hear Nellie's familiar bark.

"Nellie! Come here, girl!" You clap your hands to get her attention. "Nellie!"

Another bark echoes out in the dark, with only bits of sunlight filtering through the thicket, you let your other senses guide you to the sound. Speed walking, dry leaves crunch under your shoes, you call out to Nellie again. Narrowly avoiding a tree root protruding from the ground, you step over it so you don't land face first into the moist soil.

You stop when silence permeates the woods again. Standing still, a ring of mushrooms at your feet, you breathe heavily. "Nellie!" Frustrated, you yell again.

Instinctively stepping past a mushroom, you move your neck around, eyes roaming, looking for her white and black fur. Your palms land to your clammy forehead, wincing when you graze your injury.

"Fuck!" You stop circling around when the woods seem to expand right in front of your eyes, moving, flinging away, adding to the acres of wooded land. Vision focusing and unfocusing as the expanse extends further away. Fear once again blankets your nerves. Your mind claws at you to keep running.

"Lost?" A deep voice asks behind you. Alluring, tempting you to answer back.

Your blood suddenly runs cold. Primal fear makes your heart leap out of your chest.

Light suddenly appears behind you, your shadow gets taller and taller until it finally leaves you. Alone, you don't dare look behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up despite the warmth radiating from behind. Trepidation howls inside you.

Blood rushes in your ears, knuckles tighten, nails digging into skin as crimson drips on the tall grass below.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, curiosity wins over you.

You dare look behind.

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clemleur · 10 months

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relief - hobie brown

being a spider person can be a lot of work for hobie sometimes and between fighting the high powers, destructing capitalism, and fighting off powerful enemies, hobie ends up neglecting himself at times

that’s why one night when he walks through the door, bruised and tattered, with those big brown eyes of his nearly overflowing with tears, and he is begging for you to take care of him, you do

and oh do you take care of him

tying his hands behind his back with your softer silk scarves, knowing he won’t bother to try and break free, and sitting him down on the bed so you can take care of him right

soon enough, his eyes are rolling back into his head while your hands are wrapped around his cock, stroking to the music of broken moans and high noted whines

his hips buck up every now and then but he knows you’ll make him feel good without his help. so while he repeats the mantra of “be good” to himself, you make him feel good

and just when he thinks you’re done after hes cum once, he sees you slide your panties off quickly and position yourself above him, slowly sinking down onto his already sensitive cock

this is when he becomes completely complient to you, letting you ride him with his face in your hands, stroking away his tears from pleasure and submission

hes whispering “please” and “i love you” against your stomach repeatedly and you can’t help but feel bad for how fucked out and dependent he looks, so you do him a favor and ride a little faster which ends in him cumming deep inside you and you making a mess over his cock

#this is jujis fault #blame fae #it’s all fae’s fault IM INNOCENT #hobie brown #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x reader #sub!hobie brown

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rexlroze · 2 months

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Character: Fae! Hobie

Farie/Fae AU — 11hrs 24mins

I'd like a piece of his wood. :3

I think I honestly rushed this during the shade etc, I have some criticism about it but overall; I like it, and proud of it. I mean it's all about improving and practicing until you excel at it so yeah.

Rose thorns for piercings, ruined clothes he stole. I completely forgot about the leaf styled cape until i was done with the normal cape style then I turned too lazy to remake it so eh, we're just gonna turn hc that R made the silky ahh cape for him.

This piece was definitely leaning more towards my creativity which eh, yeah. I tried🙂

@the-kr8tor Are you happy with your half-grooted Hobie? Srsly tho, Hope ya like it. I srsly haven't seen any Fae! Hobie art so yeah. The idea had been brewing for a while but I got a little nudge to make it by @hobieszeze !! Thanks for the lovely motivation you got me for drawing this — I might work on what we talked about but dunno😵‍💫 (Sorry to disappoint)

'nyways, peace✌ I have served.

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #TF #The fall #fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #fae! hobie #RexlRoze #RexlRoze's Art #RexlArt #hope you enjoy #Hobie fanart #The fall fanart

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quirkybtsarmy · 2 years

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Here we go guys... The first chapter of the series!!! Woo!!! If it's bad, I'm sorry...

SPELLPROOF: 01

Pairing ot7 x reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Talks of mistreatment, abuse, torture. (I don't know if there is any more warnings.)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own BTS. This fan fiction is just for fun!

There are many magical places around Earth. Some more prominent than others. However, there is one place where the magical beings reign supreme.

Seoul, South Korea

This is where everyone can be who they want to be. Lizard people walking around? Happens daily. Succubus flying through the sky? Just a regular Tuesday. Centaurs owning businesses? Yep. That too. So you won't see anything out of the ordinary.

Well. Until you meet a certain group of men. This group is called...

The Bangtan Coven.

Made up of 7 different men with 7 different personalities.

You have the leader of this group of Misfits, if you will. Kim Namjoon. The Vampire. Folks say that he is a killing machine because of his ancestors blood lust. When in actuality, he is a big softy who can be seen riding his bike around or chilling in the local library reading a book and drinking Kim Seokjin's tea.

Then we have Kim Seokjin. Witch or Warlock. Whichever tickles your fancy. He is what people would call the second in command. Only in this Coven, they don't have roles. They just assign people certain thing. In this case, Seokjin (or also known as Jin) is the healer of the group. He can tell if something is wrong with someone just by looking at their auras and can make any potion or elixir with just one read of a recipe. He also has a weird familiar...

Min Yoongi. The Merman. He likes to keep to himself. Some people think he is plotting to kill Namjoon and take over the Coven. Others think that he is with the Coven so he doesn't have to deal with the Merfolk's politics. In reality, he just wants to have a place where he can be loved for who he is. And he has found that with the boys.

Jung Hoseok (or also known as J-Hope or Hobi) Fallen Angel. Whether this ball of sunshine walks into a room, you KNOW that your mood will be turned upside down in an instant! There are rumours about how he fell to Earth but they'll be uncovered in a little bit.

Park Jimin. Fae. Prince. Yes, you read that right. Prince. He can charm his way out of any situation. He also looks good in anything. Even a garbage bag, he'd still look like a Louis Vuitton model walking down the runway.

Kim Taehyung. Demon. This man is sexual desires in a person. I'm not talking about Taehyung. Obviously. He's a puppy that everyone loves! Even Yoongi will smile at him most days! I'm talking about V. His demon ego. At nighttime, when Tae falls asleep, V comes out to play.

And now we get to the last member. Jeon Jungkook. The youngest member or maknae. Witch-werewolf hybrid. This boy is a whole can of worms. There has been so much that has gone on in his life and it. Is. Terrifying to look at.

The Coven was the talk of the town when it was first introduced to the supernatural community. People didn't expect men to be in a Coven by themselves; let alone 7! But overtime, through hardships and everyday viewing in the normal world that a 7 male Coven can exist, the Coven is a normal thing to see.

Now our story begins...

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

The sun shone bright into the leader's bedroom. The black curtains didn't do a good job at keeping the sunlight out, but the sunlight isn't that bad. But Namjoon woke up anyway.

Namjoon sat up and stretched his arms into the air, cracking his bones in the process.

'Jeez, I finally had a good sleep for once...'

He looked at the bedside clock. 10am.

'Good time to wake up. I should probably get the boys up as well.'

Namjoon got out of his bed which was covered in purple sheets and walked to his mirror. His eyes were glowing red. He sighed.

'if I don't feed now, I'm going to scare someone.'

Namjoon got a brown dressing gown and walked downstairs into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Namjoon"

Namjoon jumped slightly, then giggled, showing his dimples.

"Good morning, Yoongi." Namjoon said while walking over to Yoongi and giving him a hug.

'He's getting better with affection... That's good.' Namjoon thought to himself.

Namjoon sat at the breakfast bar while Yoongi served him some eggs and bacon with his special smoothie which has Bloodberries* in it. Yoongi leaned up against the cupboard, the light coming from the skylight making the scales on his arms shine bright like diamonds.

'His scales look better... even though he hasn't been having enough water lately... 'Namjoon thought.

"Is anyone else awake?"

Yoongi shrugged.

"I think Jin is in the greenhouse tending to the garden and also checking on Jimin" Yoongi said while sipping his water, "Jungkook is with Bam, and Taehyung went into Hobi's room. Probably making sure that his wings are healing properly."

Namjoon nodded while eating his food.

"You should probably start getting packed for the trip."

"Yeah. I probably should. Don't worry about cleaning up. I'll do it. Jin looked a bit scared when he woke up. You should check up on him." Yoongi then started to clean up the kitchen.

Namjoon then walked out of the cabin into the backyard.

The forest looked amazing as it always did. Different types of trees growing in a different variety of sizes. You can thank Jin and Jimin for that. There are even families of foxes that run through their garden now and again. The Coven likes peace and quiet as they can go around their business without having to deal with the stresses of daily life.

Authors note: *sigh* if only I could live in that cabin...

Namjoon walked down to the greenhouse where Jin was currently was tending to the plants. His familiar was also there.

"Good morning, Jin!"

Jin turned from the plant he was currently tending to (which was a bloodberry bush, obviously) and smiled at Namjoon.

"Morning, Joonie! How was your sleep?" Jin said while going up to Namjoon, giving him a brotherly hug and taping his finger up against Namjoon's chest; a sign that something was wrong.

"it was good. Did... Something happen?"

Jin's face paled.

"I... I saw... Something... That terrified me."

Namjoon walked Jin to a bench and sat with him.

"What was it?"

Jin stared off into space for a little while before continuing.

"I think ... I saw our mate."

Namjoon gasped silently. "How?"

"I don't know. But they were just... Standing there. Amongst the trees with their back to me. When they turned around to face me, I woke up. Terrified RJ too."

As if on cue, RJ the alpaca walks into the green house from Jimin's room.

Oh! Hello Mister Namjoon. I see you are with my master. Are you well rested?

"Hi RJ. I'm doing ok. Do you know about Jin's dream?"

About your mate? I have heard. Jin screamed! Which I'm still surprised that you or the others didn't wake up.

Namjoon looked at Jin with concern, but Jin conjured his book of recipes out from a pocket dimension and was reading about how to tend certain plants to distract himself from the dream like vision he had in the early hours of the morning.

'I'm going to check on Jimin. Could you go and check on Tae and Hobi for me?"

"Yes, I can do that. Hopefully it can distract me from that dream..."

Jin walked out of the greenhouse with a sad expression.

"I hate it when this happens..."

He told you that this would happen from day one, Mister Namjoon. This is what happens to Warlocks. When they sleep, either they have a dream, a nightmare or a vision of the future. Anyway, Im going to talk to Bam. See how Mister Jungkook is going on with his... Ailment...

"Thank you, RJ. I really appreciate it."

No problem! Its what I'm here for.

Namjoon stands up and goes to the door that RJ came through moments earlier and was about to turn the door handle when;

Wait! I need to tell you something. About Jimin. And possibly about all of you.

Namjoon pauses from turning the door handle and turns to RJ with a confused and slightly concerned look on his face.

Jimin's condition is getting slightly worse day by day. I, alongside Master Jin, have been giving him potions to help with the pain but... I don't know how much longer it will last for, Mister Namjoon. You might want to brace yourselves for the upcoming days. We don't know how long he has left... If you do see your mate, it will give him a bit of a shock. Be prepared.

RJ bows his head in respect, then leaves the greenhouse to accompany Jin with his duties. Namjoon holds back tears when he turns around to open Jimin's door to his sanctuary.

Jimin's sanctuary is filled to the brim with flowers, plants of different varieties and even insects. In the middle of the room is a fairy house covered in different types of flowers.

Namjoon walks to the fairy house, bends over and taps 3 times on the front door with his fingernail.

A few seconds later, the door opens and a tired looking pixie-sized Jimin walks out yawning and rubbing his eyes.

Jimin waves at Namjoon. Namjoon giggles at Jimin's sluggish movements.

"God morning, Tinkerbell"

Jimin sticks out his tongue, flies to the ground next to Namjoon and shifts into his normal size. Jimin sways slightly.

"Mmmm. Why are you waking me up..."

Jimin put his head on Namjoon's chest, the latter giving Jimin a big hug.

"We have a camping trip, remember? We get to spend time together which isn't in this house or forest."

Jimin looks up at Namjoon with sparkles coming from his eyes and wings, despite looking thin and pale.

"Really?! I'm so happy!" Jimin wiggled in Namjoon's arms while showing off his iconic eye smile.

"Yeah! Can you get to the main house by yourself, or do you want me to help you?"

"I can do it. I'll just be a little slow... That's all..."

Namjoon let's go of Jimin and let's the boy stand in his own.

"All right then. I'm going to get Jungkook and then we can all get ready and get this trip started!"

Namjoon leaves the greenhouse with Jimin and goes into the cabin where Yoongi is sat with Jin, Taehyung and Hobi at the dining table eating eggs and bacon.

"Is JK up?" Namjoon asked the group.

"I think so. I heard Bam bark a few times so it's possible." Tae said with a slight smile.

"Right then. I'll bring him downstairs the new can get going!"

Namjoon walks out while the other boys continue their conversation.

"If you say my laugh sounds like a window cleaner again, I swear to heaven above-"

Namjoon enters JK's room quietly without disturbing him.

' I don't want to listen to Jin rapping today.'

Namjoon looked up at Jungkook, alerting Bam to the new presence. Bam left his position from in front of Jungkook and sat in front of Namjoon.

Hiya, Mister Namjoon! How are you feeling today?

"I've been okay. How about the boy?"

Bam looks at Jungkook for a second, then looked back at Namjoon.

I'm... Not entirely sure. Sometimes he's cheerful. Sometimes, he just states at something.

Which Jungkook is currently doing. He is sat slouched on his bed, looking out of the window, rocking back... And forth... Like he was in a trance. His black wolf ears and fluffy wolf tail won't stop twitching. Sometimes, he would let out a whining/humming sound. Namjoon looks even more worried.

Namjoon approaches Jungkook and crouches in front of his brother.

"Hey, Bunny. How are you feeling?"

Jungkook stops his previous actions, then slowly drifts his gaze down to Namjoon's redish-brown eyes. And said a sentence that broke Namjoon's heart.

"Will my mate ... Like me...For me?"

Namjoon was in saddened shock. Why would Jungkook say that?! He has said many things over the years. But this? This was terrifying. Namjoon sat next to Jungkook on the bed, pushing the youngest's head into his shoulder and putting an arm around him. Bam sat in front of Jungkook again and put his head on Jungkook's lap. Jungkook pets Bam's head while listening to Namjoon.

"Hey... They are going to LOVE you."

Namjoon can't say anything else. Everytime he tries to, it falls on deaf ears. Jungkook started to fiddle with his fingers and his ears started to twitch again.

"But I always have this feeling that when they are in our lives, they will end up like... Her..."

Namjoon closes his eyes to hold back his tears.

Her.

The woman that only wanted Jungkook for his body and not anything else. If Jungkook didn't comply, he would get beaten, tortured or starved and locked in the basement. She also did another thing to Jungkook that he won't talk about until he is ready.

Namjoon stroked his hand over Jungkook's neck where there was burn marks from a shocking collar that the woman used on him. Jungkook flinched, looking at Namjoon with panic in his eyes.

"I'm scared too. We all are. Jimin cried crystals last night. Yoongi didn't have his bath so his scales aren't that sparkly as they usually are today. Tae almost had a demonic fit. Jin blew up his witching room but RJ cleaned up the mess. I almost threw up my breakfast this morning. We all are terrified but we will let this person in with open arms and let them know our fears. I know this is a big ask, but can you try and forget ... Her... And think about our new mate? For us?"

Jungkook stays silent, then shows Namjoon his bunny smile.

"Ok, Joonie. I'll give it my best shot!"

Namjoon beams at Jungkook. "That's my bunbun." He then pulls JK closer and ruffles his hair (which Jungkook OBVIOUSLY hates- note the sarcasm) and leads JK into the dining room to talk to the boys about the camping trip.

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

After a few hours of talking and finishing packing their bags, the boys put their bags into their car and took a road trip to the forest. RJ and Bam joined as well. The trip didn't take long since Jin got impatient and couldn't handle the maknaes bickering about who will sleep with who. So he conjured up a portal and drove through it and magically took the boys to the campsite.

The boys got out of the car. Well... Not all of them... Yoongi crawled out of the car, dry heaving, while RJ and Bam trotted off to play with each other.

"Ugh... Why can't I get used to teleporting?"

"Would you say that you are a... Fish out of water?" Jin said while doing his signature laugh.

Yoongi glared at Jin. "SHUT UP, YOU GOOFY LAUGHING MOTHERFUCKER!"

"GoOfY?!?!"

Namjoon facepalmed while Jin and Yoongi bickered.

'Im living with fucking 5 year Olds, I swear...' Namjoon decided not to intervene and went to the others to see if the boys were done with setting up the campsite.

They set up everything VERY quickly. Was it quick? Namjoon looked up... It was nighttime already...

Well, that was quick... Oh! That's why. It's the Magic Forest. Time is different here. Namjoon keeps forgetting that.

Namjoon sat down next to Jin, who has decided to stop bickering like an old, married couple with Yoongi, and looked at his boys. Jungkook who was laying on the ground with Bam on top of him and also laying on Taehyung's legs, the latter was stroking the youngest ears and was giggling every now and then at JKs whining. Hobi is sitting next to Yoongi talking about... Anything. They always do that. Jimin was talking to RJ and putting flowers into his wool. Namjoon smiled. He was at peace.

"Do you think we will find our mate?"

...never mind...

Namjoon looked over at Jin, who was sipping some herbal tea. Namjoon sighed.

"I hope so. But we need to find them quickly."

Jungkook suddenly sat up and was looking over Namjoon and Jin's shoulders, panic in his eyes.

"What is it, Kookie?" Taehyung asked while holding JK from behind.

Jungkook's ears perked towards where he was looking and his breathing started to hick.

"Our mate is here"

Everyone stood up in relief and panic.

Then 2 sounds made them panic internally.

A metallic clang...

And a blood curdling scream...

--------

*Namjoon doesn't like to bite people so he eats Bloodberries instead.

And the first chapter is DONE! WOO! Cliffhanger. Who is it? What happened to JK in the past? We will find out who was in the woods...

In the next chapter!

If you have any questions about this story, please ask me!

Authors Note!: You probably have now realised that I have changed certain things in the story. I have changed their relationship from romantic to familial. I watched the 2022 Fiesta video and Namjoon talked about how the boys were a family. I kinda felt... Guilty in a sense that I put them in a relationship. I'm not saying that being gay/bisexual is a bad thing! You guys can write whatever you would like about them. I'm just slightly changing my fanfiction. It will still be the same storyline, but it's... Different... I just confused myself. ANYWAY! I hope that this doesn't turn anyone away from this.

Author Emily OUT! 💜💜

#bts poly au #bts series #bts fanfic #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #bts polyamory

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the-kr8tor · 4 months

Note

PLEASE, PLEASE FAE HOBIE X READER PLEASE I NEED IT AGAIN YOUR SERIES KILLED ME EVEN IF I LOVED IT AND I NEED MORE FAE HOBIE X READER. I NEED POSSESSIVE FAE HOBIE X READER PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (IVE BEEN WAITING FOR YOUR REQUEST TO BE OPEN PLEASE I BEG OF YOU MORE FAE HOBIE HES PLAGUED MY THOUGHS BC OF YOU.)

IT CAN BE ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING WITH FAE HOBIE (BESIDES ANGST I HAD ENOUGH OF THAT WITH YOUR SERIES/HJ /PF)

I UTTERLY NEED TO KISS AND JUST NEED FAE HOBIE. YOU GOT ME OBSESSED WITH FAE HOBIE GUENGUENAHJFSBIAHDNSHSNFUD 🩷🩷🩷

Hi, bestie! I blacked out while writing this (a side effect of writing for fae Hobie 🤣🤣 he does things to me) I tried my best at making this as fluffy as possible but if you want it fluffier pls feel free to send another prompt! (Fae Hobie still has my heart) thank you for requesting!! 🫶

Pairing: Fae! Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, Fae AU, Fae! Hobie Brown, a bit of hurt/comfort, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You definitely remember planting your tulips just yesterday. At first it was your cabbages growing large just after a few days of planting, then the tomatoes and now the tulips. The colorful bulbs sway in the breeze, the fragrant flowery smell relaxes your bones. Yet you can't help but feel creeped out by the weird phenomena.

You just moved in recently to a quaint town that's settled right on the edge of a dense woodland area. You've heard of the stories when a human has captured a fae’s attention, and it looks like this is the case for you. All the stories don't always end well for the former. But if the extremely fast growth of your garden says anything, it's that this particular fae means well. Hopefully.

So as a thank you to the kind entity, you place a bowl of milk and honey right under where your tulips are planted. You've even left a plate of salad all made from the crops you've lovingly planted and bloomed after just a few days of planting. You think for a second that maybe the soil under your feet is healthy and bountiful but there's no harm done if there isn't any mythical creature helping you. The worst case is a raccoon eating your offerings.

Bewildered is an understatement, your eyes are the size of dinner plates once you see something shimmering on the ground. Whatever you did, the fae seems to like it. They left a crown of daisies on your doorstep the next morning, the petals are all adorned with flecks of gold. The flowers run like silk under your fingers.

You look past your garden to the woods, the fog swirls around the edge. In your vision you see the mist form and shape into a tall slim figure. Your hand tightens around the crown of flowers, hands shaking in disbelief.

You didn't go out that day.

More gifts appear outside your home, tiny trinkets woven carefully to create something beautiful. A bouquet of flowers on your windowsill, a figurine of a spider made from vines that's left hanging by the large oak in your backyard. They all appear outside your house so there's no cause for actual fear. If only you stop feeling eyes on you whenever you go outside.

A friend from the city visited you one day, telling you how much they've missed you, gushing on how much you've missed while away. They ask if you ever feel lonely out in the outskirts of the country you could always come visit them.

The same eyes you feel outside can be felt in your bedroom that night.

Whatever latched on to you seems benevolent, watchful, yes but not evil or controlling. You've gotten used to the presence after a few months of living at your cottage. You've even started talking to them during the day when you have no one to turn to. You tell them stories of your almost forgotten childhood and your old life where the houses are made of glass and grey stone, where they stood high above, almost touching the heavens. They've never responded, always listening and ever present.

He wants to respond though, tell you tales of old, where the flowers used to sing and dance, where the woods reigned supreme above all. He misses them, yes, but he misses your voice more. Is it possible to miss your touch too even though he's only imagined it before? Perhaps your hands feel like the finest silk spun upon his skin, your fingers weaving through his like a glittering river, waking him up from his centuries of stagnant waters.

He's seen you laugh and cry, and tend to your garden like it’s your own children. He wants nothing more but to join you in harvesting your bounty, to converse with you and listen to you mumble about your day. Gradually he appears behind you when your back is turned, watching as you make your dinner, observing you plant something new. Then in a flash, he vanishes when you turn around. Leaving you feeling empty

You enter the gates of your garden with tears in your eyes, words barely coherent by your sobs. Kneeling in front of your tulips, you grasp the grass underneath, pulling and ripping out the blades. A sudden hand circles around your wrist, warmth enveloping you in a crashing wave.

He appears just behind the tulips, your eyes soften when your vision focuses on his handsome and otherworldly face. He doesn't know what's gotten you upset but what he does know is that it'll be alright for now on. Because he's—

“Here, ‘m here” His voice calms you down like a thick blanket in the winter.

Without hesitation, you embrace him, the smell of sandalwood and flowers almost stops your heart. You grip him tight, his strong arms envelope you securely, his face nuzzled right between the space over your neck. You do the same, already feeling at home on his skin.

“You're here. You’re real, aren't you?”

“As real as you” he leans back to look at your tear stained cheeks, wiping it with his thumbs. “And here to stay if you want me to”

“Please” you lean on his touch.

He nods, placing a weighted kiss on your forehead. Suddenly you know his name. You call it sweetly amidst the tears, it feels welcome on your tongue.

For the first time in years, Hobie smiles and chuckles, kissing you atop your eyelids with a promise to never leave your side.

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the-kr8tor · 3 months

Note

could u maybe write smth about what being with fae!hobie is like?

Fae! Hobie HCs

I made it into a hc thingy, I hope that's okay, hope you like it! Thank you for requesting! 🫶

Pairing: Fae! Hobie Brown x gn! Reader

Fae! Hobie doesn't trust anyone easily but when it comes to you he's full on willing to tell you everything.

He'll be courting you when he's absolutely sure about you and that you won't cause any harm to his abode/home.

Get ready to receive so many handmade gifts from him, like a lot. It would start off with tiny trinkets that fit on the palm of your hand. Then as time goes on you start receiving huge bundles of flowers on your doorstep that you're certain aren't in season.

Once you actually start a relationship with him, always be ready because fae! Hobie will be at your place the moment you get home. If he can't visit you that day then he'll leave your favourite flower on the table with some bread and pie that is still suspiciously warm.

You don't eat it of course, knowing that you'll truly be his after consuming it.

He lives little notes full of adoration too with cookies (why won't you just eat his little gifts 😞)

He's still Hobie of course, so he'd still tease the crap out of you. He'd make your apartment full of flower petals, engulfing you in its flowery scent. Fae! Hobie would also conjure vines on the floor so you would trip and fall in his arms.

Also I'm imagining Fae! Hobie with technology, like you'd teach him how the stereo works one time and you come home the next day to him jamming to all your music.

Of course there's a learning curve to it but after watching you use all the electronics in your house, he got it eventually. But he still prefers nature and his abode, technology is just his guilty pleasure.

Hugs!!! He's fantastic at hugging you, like you'd be cuddling in bed and it's hot? Fae! Hobie's got you, he'd regulate his body temperature so that he's your personal ice pack or heating pad when needed.

He's magic, he keeps telling you every time you get surprised by his abilities.

Sometimes he'd just lay down on you to feel your heart beating and to just bask in your warmth.

If you decide to visit his abode, he's absolutely thrilled to have you as his guest. He won't say it to your face of course, like if you ask him if you can visit, he'd shrug and say “alright” but inside he's already planning how to make you comfortable in his abode and what food to put out. (Why won't you eat it though 😞)

He would love to accompany you outside of your home and outside his abode but he tells you other humans aren't ready for him. (He just doesn't want to be perceived by anyone else but you. Also the cars and the smoke they emit scares him)

Flowers! There won't be a lack of it in your presence. Whether it's in your hair, clipped to your clothes or inside a vase, there's plenty of it courtesy of Fae! Hobie.

You're in the city and Fae! Hobie misses you dearly? He'll send a raven with a note and a flower in its beak just for you.

You like having silver jewelry because it looks good on you? Forget about it because it hurts Fae! Hobie and he would most certainly not let a simple jewelry prevent him from touching you even though it burns his skin. So you take the initiative to sell all your silver.

Kisses! He doesn't like kissing you outside of your home, saying that the plants and fauna in his abode are always watching so he prefers to smooch you in your place.

The kisses are all so sweet too, the feeling of it still lingers on your skin and lips hours after he kisses you.

Fae! Hobie isn't obsessed per se, he's just protective of you. After seeing cruelty committed by other humans for centuries, who could ever blame him when he gives you a protective charm?

If only you would eat his food then you'll forever be under his protection.

#hobie thoughts #fae! hobie brown #fae! hobie headcanons #x reader #fae! hobie brown x reader #fae! hobie x reader #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction #hobie fluff #request done #fae! hobie brown x gn! reader #hobie brown x gn! reader #hobie brown x reader #the kr8tor's creations #fanfic #cw food mention

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the-kr8tor · 3 months

Note

Can i request fae hobie and reader? Maube where it doesnt happen in the fall, like totally separate universe. Like i deadass need to seem him as a dad with kids and with reader happily man😭, you dont gotta do it though dw dw.

Fae! Hobie with kids you say? I gotchu, angel 🫶

Pairing: Fae! Dad! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Fae AU, Dad AU, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Juniper runs happily in the field, green dress swinging wildly, tall grass parting for her, little daisies kiss her feet as she sprints away from her younger sister. Poppy whose smaller legs make it hard for her to keep up, her curly hair frames her chubby cheeks, a toothy grin brings light in your laughter while you watch them chase each other on the grass. The tiny bundle gurgles in your arms, his golden eyes stares at you expectantly like he's asking you why you're laughing.

The sun beams down at your little family and the bubble that Hobie made to keep you and his family away from prying eyes and dangerous people. The large oak tree provides shade for you and your newborn, soft fabric lay under you for comfort. You've settled deep in the woods, miles and miles away from the nearest soul. Hobie has done a great deal to protect you and his children, keeping everyone inside his realm safe and sound. And he'll do anything to keep it that way, with every means necessary.

You tilt your head, cooing and nuzzling your nose on top of Bear’s head. The name wasn't much of a choice per se but you and Hobie couldn't pick a suitable name so you both nicknamed him in the meantime always calling him your ‘little bear’ the both of you got so used to calling him ‘your bear’, you two just decided that it's his name now.

A large hawk flies overhead, a breeze following past, fluttering the grass and the leaves. The girls stop playing, pointing and yelling at the bird.

“Dad’s back!” Junie yells, she runs towards you, all smiles and giggles. She was your carbon copy when she was born but now that she's older there's more of Hobie you see in her everyday. From her height to how she scrunches her nose when she laughs.

“Dad's back! Did you see?!” She bounces up and down, tiny ribbons decorating her thick curls. “Mum, did you see?” Junie breathes heavily from her run.

“I did see, baby. Where's your sister?” You peek behind her, noticing that Poppy isn't following close.

For a second your heart falls from your chest until you see Hobie carrying her in his arms, tiny hands waving wildly in the distance. You can breathe again.

“Come sit down, Junie, drink some water.” she plops down next to you.

“‘m not thirsty.” Stubborn, like her father.

“Even if you're not, you still need to drink because you've been sweating a lot.” You wipe her moist forehead with a towel. “See? Go drink, my flower.” With a huff, she does what she's told. Definitely Hobie's daughter, alright.

A shadow casts over you, Bear smiles, blowing a milk bubble from his lips.

“Hello there.” You smile up at Hobie and Poppy who's currently clambering down from her father.

She settles next to you, greeting Bear with a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Hi mummy.” Her auburn eyes smile at you. Poppy, the sweet heart that she is, presses a loud smooch on your temple.

“Hello, my star, go drink water for me? Please?”

“Okay!” She half crawls towards her sister and the picnic basket. You think this one takes after you more.

“Hey you—” Hobie falls on the blanket with a thud, fatigue marring his chiseled face. “Everything okay?” you roam your eyes over his body for any signs of a fight. Heart clenching at the thought, thankfully you find none.

You trace the muscles on his arm, goosebumps rising on his skin where your fingers have touched him. You find that it's the only thing that could do that to him.

He sighs, despite the tiredness he still finds it in him to smile at you. “Everything is as it should be.” Sitting up, he takes a peek at the new addition in the family. “Little Bear, have you been good?”

“Hobie,” your tone is serious. “The barrier—?”

“It's staying strong.” He flicks a fallen leaf off your shoulder. “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”

You nod, feeling the lump in your throat disappear. Laying your head on his shoulder, you breathe him in, drowning in him.

“Bring me next time? I worry when you're not here.”

“Once you're better,” he promises. “For now, focus on resting.” Hobie holds the back of your head, kissing the crown of flowers the girls made you. It crinkles under the weight of his lips.

“Dad!” Juniper screams for her dad's attention. “Look! Poppy and I caught a lizard!”

He chuckles, right hand cradling Bear's head casually. “Careful, that one breathes fire.” he teases.

“Ack!” Junie lets it go while Poppy laughs. The tiny lizard skidaddles out and into the tall grass. “aww, bye mr. Lizard.”

“Come sit with us, froggy.” Hobie pats the space next to him.

Junie quickly makes her way to him, instead of sitting next to her father, she takes her seat on his lap. The sudden weight brings an ‘oof’ from Hobie. She giggles, embracing her father as a half apology.

Poppy pouts, a copy of Hobie when he wants a cuddle but doesn't want to ask directly.

“There's a seat right in the middle just for you, rabbit.” Hobie scooches a bit, her pout morphs into a grin, baby teeth peeking out from her lips.

You notice her blue overalls are getting smaller on her, mentally making a note to make a new one for her. She's growing so fast, it's what you expected since she takes after her father. It makes you excited to see Bear grow up, you wonder whether he takes after you or Hobie.

Poppy loops her arm around yours while she wraps the other one around Hobie's. She kicks her feet happily, laying her forehead atop your arm. She hums a familiar tune.

You look over her head to peer at Hobie, finding that he's already staring at you. Mouthing an ‘I love you’, you watch as his tiredness fades, replaced by a bright genuine smile.

He answers with a hand behind your neck, pulling you closer, chastely kissing with the promise to protect the family you two made.

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Text

Crimson Clover

<<< PART III

You choose to live.

With your broken fingers, you gingerly pick up the loaf. Bringing it to your bloodied lips, you take a bite.

It tastes like light, light amidst the dark. It comforts you, sealing your wounds, bones magically unbreaking, moving back to its sockets. You swallow it with a sigh.

For a few minutes your pain finally subsides, leaving only a dull ache in your ribs. Standing with the help of the table, you sit on the head of the table. His chair.

You sit, eyes closed, back against the cold marble.

“You chose to stay” Hobie says in a broken voice, cloak torn to shreds, black blood seeping out from his side.

“Hobie!” You run towards him, limping slightly. Taking his shoulders, he looks for any indication of your previous injuries, finding none except for the blood drying on your skin and clothes. “I couldn't–I couldn't leave you, I can't”

Hobie nods with understanding, he knew this was a possible outcome, seeing it chosen by you a hundred times before.

“Are you okay?” Bringing him to his chair, he sits with a groan. “I knew you'd be alright” you cup his cheek, wiping the marks left by the entity on his perfect skin.

There's a gnawing in his heart, is this better for you?

He exhales a shaky breath, bloodied hand holding your own. “You're staying?”

You nod, a sad smile on your face, tears trapped in your eyes. Is this better for him?

“I am” bringing your face closer to his forehead, you breathe him in, the same scent you're familiar with since you've first met him, from the past to the present. You're sure it'll be the same in the future. “You won, right? That thing won't come after us?”

“For now. Nothing ever dies, love.” He leans away, knuckles caressing your temple. “‘m sorry that I've trapped you here with me.”

Did you choose right?

You tell him your name, your true name in a hush whisper. Hobie hides his face on your shoulder, lips over your thumping pulse.

Your hearts beat as one. He'd love and protect you, fighting fate herself until he can't. Until your mortal death, then the cycle begins anew.

A/N: Anndd we're at the end! Thank you so much for joining me on this ride! Much love to all of you ❤️❤️❤️

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Text

Scarlet Leaves

Pairing: Fae! Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader

Word count: 9.6k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader, Smut implied, CW food mention, CW spiders, TW arachnophobia, CW vomiting, CW religious images, CW death, TW violence, TW blood, CW gore, CW injury, TW animal injury/harm, CW body horror, TW Suicide.

This chapter tackles dark themes, read at your own discretion.

A/N: if there's any warnings I forgot to add, please tell me so I could add it in. Endings are linked below, same warnings apply.

Navigation

The Fall Masterlist

PART III <<<

You open your eyes to the colour green, the grass under you grazes your legs, a delicate emerald fabric over your palms. Your skirt the same shade as the grass below you, camouflaging your form, not knowing where you or the ground starts or ends.

You're drowning in green, but you don't mind as the wind blows cool air behind you, a breath of reprieve from the searing heat of summer. Your fingers expertly fill in a tattered hole in the fabric, dainty daisies littered all over the cloth, all lovingly interwoven within the sea of green.

Pink dahlias accompany your side as your previous companion is nowhere to be seen. Too busy with your needlework, you haven't noticed where he went. Wondering where he went, you Look up from your handiwork, gold fills your vision, brilliant brown dotting around it, rescuing you from all the viridescent.

“Where did you go?” The voice is your own yet foreign in your ears. Tone soft and gentle like the air gliding behind you. You can't control your own body, like an audience watching a scene unfold.

“Out” He leans back, lips in a sly smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. His hands hide behind him, vines dance under his skin.

“We are out, web weaver.” You gesture around the hill, the tall oak standing proudly next to you in a protective stance. “Were you scaring the villagers again?”

“Only the hunters, love” he kneels before you, taking his hand out, laying a lily right behind your ear. The heart under your ribcage beats rapidly. “And the occasional children, someone needs to teach them not to wander off.”

He beams at your bewildered face, heat rising to your cheeks. “Where did your tongue go?” Ramping up his teasing, he plops his head over your lap, crushing his cloak under him. “I think I am quite fond of the view from down here”

You stifle from rolling your eyes, scoffing, you feign anger. “You just ruined my work!” Trying to pull the fabric from underneath him, he laughs loudly at your predicament. “You are an absolute menace, web weaver”

He smiles up at you like you've held up the moon just for him. You'd be lying if you weren't looking down at him all the same. Silence fills the area, the wind carries the sound of birds chirping as he holds up his knuckles to your cheek, wiping at the sweat clinging to your skin. Like muscle memory, you lean towards his touch. Closing your eyes, you savour it, akin to a man dying of thirst finding an oasis in the middle of the desert.

Humming happily, he retracts his hand back only for him to slide it down towards your hip, a provocative action but you don't protest or even move. Instead, you let him rest his large palm over the cotton of your blouse, quietly wishing there isn't any barrier between him and your skin. He feels it too, the lightning passing through your body to his immortal coil. Exhaling, he straightens himself out, expelling any compromising thoughts.

In your disappointment, he lifts his hand off your form. But he couldn't completely part away from the contact, he opts to hold you by the hem of your blouse, mindlessly playing with the cloth. You're completely enamored by him, and he too is the same for you.

A question appears in your mind, judging from the current state of your relationship with the being before you, you're sure he would answer.

“Why do you call yourself ‘web weaver?’ Did someone name you that?”

“Why? Do you not like it?” he dodges the question.

“Just curious” there's disappointment hidden in your voice. “It is a long title, you need a nickname or something similar or one that fits you”

“So, you do not like it? I am willing to take other names, if you have other suggestions”

“Quite the opposite, I am partial to ‘web weaver’ and I do have some ideas”

He leans to his left, face dangerously close to your stomach. You smile shyly, lifting your hands to bravely hold his jaw, gently scratching his nape with your nails. Surprisingly enough, he doesn't fret.

“Tell me” purring, voice tantalizingly sweet. He sighs in content.

“Hobart”

He cracks his eye open a smidge, bright eyes peeking through. “Hobart?” Testing the name on his tongue, he repeats it once again.

“Hobie for short, I have always liked that name. Sounds…modern”

“Is that the only reason?” His arm loops around your waist whilst you continue to cup his face affectionately. A breeze passes by, carrying a dandelion flying freely.

If someone would come across the scene, they would've thought a pair of lovers are enjoying the sun together; not an otherworldly being and a regular human who has found herself uncharacteristically attached to the living myth before her.

“It is a strong contender, the same goes with the name ‘Gabriel’ I suppose”

He scrunches his nose, an act so human you forgot for a second what he really is. “I prefer the former. You have thought it through, clever.”

“It has been eating at me, I cannot keep calling you web weaver or my tongue will get tied”

“Hobie it is then” his thumb presses softly on your skin.

You grin, sunshine making your eyes sparkle in delight. “That was easy”

“You thought I would put up a fight?”

“Yes, because you always do. It took me days just to convince you to let me mend your cloak”

“Yet, I still said yes” Hobie reaches up to cradle your face, swiping at the sweat stuck to your eyebrow, he slowly pulls you down towards him.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, frozen in elation. “You said yes” you said against his lips, yours only grazing his, the friction enough to spread goosebumps all over your arms. “Hobie–I”

He hums, eyes flickering down to the plush of your lips.

“I might love you, and I do not think I can manage it”

He meets your glimmering eyes full of love, “I will, if you cannot, I will manage for the both of us”

Hobie meets with your lips in a chaste manner, you swear your heart stopped beating. He pulls away for a second “Because it is you, and only you, my–”

You wake up covered in sweat, blades of grass right under your healing palms. His cloak protects you from getting poked by the grass. Your eyes look up at the mysterious light floating above Hobie’s abode, providing an eternal morning.

“You're awake”

Sitting up by your elbows, you look at him sitting a few feet away from you, legs crossed over the other, hands occupied with cutting a blood red apple.

“I didn't notice that I fell asleep” the cloak feels soft under your touch, reminiscent of the dream you had. Wind rustles past softly. You narrow your eyes suspiciously, “you didn't have anything to do with that, right?”

“Do you think of me so cruel?” Hobie points at the ground next to you with his knife. “You tired yourself out from making those” The wooden handle looks old and worn out, but the steel still has its shine, a sharpness that could cut bone.

Looking down, you see a pile of crowns made from daisies. All woven by your hand, judging by how your palms smell of flowers. There's one that's not yet completed, the circle broken, edges unconnected.

Picking it up, you rattle your sleep deprived brain on why you started making a bunch of them. You don't even know how to make daisy crowns in the first place.

“How–? Did I make these?”

“Mm-hmm” he replies, mouth full with an apple slice.

“Huh?” you lay back down, admiring your handiwork under the light.

“Hungry?” Hobie tosses an apple at you without warning.

The fruit bounces and slides before it reaches your waist. You look at him with a knowing look.

“Right,” you roll it away, back towards Hobie. “I'm good.”

“It's literally just an apple, no tricks” with a flick of his hand, the apple rolls back to you.

“Sure,” sarcasm rolls off your tongue. You play a game of catch with him.

“I can't lie, remember?” The apple rolls back and forth.

“No,” you emphasize the word with a roll of your eyes.

“You trust me enough for you to sleep here but you can't trust me with a single apple?” He rolls the fruit in between his palms. Brown eyes stare at you teasingly. “You have a weird way of measuring faith in people”

“Accidentally sleeping here doesn't condemn me to a life here. An apple does”

“Because you know the stories so well with your offerings of honey and milk” his smirk grows wider with each banter.

“It was outdated information”

“Thought you humans have a way of accessing infinite knowledge” he lays down, the light shines on his perfect skin. Facing you with a soft smile, his hand still on the apple that's held to his bare chest.

“We do, but that doesn't mean the information is still accurate after centuries. Some things change”

“Not all” He looks away from you, eyes fixated on the sky above.

After a beat of silence, the name still rattles around in your mind's eye. The dream seems so vivid you could still taste his lips on yours. You chance it, hoping he doesn't slice you to bits with the knife near him.

“Speaking of” you nervously lean to the side, facing the being in front of you. With an apprehensive exhale, you bravely ask him. “I've read a book in the manor’s library. A book about the fae” you lie once again.

“I'm guessing a story book then?”

“No, it looks…old and less storybookie”

Hobie raises a confused eyebrow. “Storybookie?”

“Y’know, it doesn't look like it was written for children. No pictures, just a bunch of words.”

“Words too big for you?” He chuckles at his own joke. Still avoiding your face.

You ignore his comment with a silent scoff. In your quest to get answers for your so-called dreams, you place a lilt in your voice, hoping it gets his attention.

“Hobie”

His face slowly turns back to you, big brown eyes staring at you intently. Lips slightly parted, he awaits for your next words, hanging onto every breath.

“There's a name there, it's only mentioned once so it's intrigued me”

“What name?” The space between you gets smaller and smaller with every second that passes.

“Web Weaver. Do you know what it means or who held it”

“Why do you think I would know?”

“Because,” you gaze at his eyes, there's anger pooling in them. Yet you continue on, your heart rattles loudly under your rib cage. “I just know”

The fierceness fades in his eyes, replaced with yearning. “It was my name”

“Was?” You breathe a sigh of relief, relieved that you didn't anger an ancient being. “Why web weaver?”

“How does it feel to be human?” He questions back, you're enamored by his gaze on you and you only.

“Don't dodge the question” The gap between your bodies is now an inch away, so close you could see the vines under his skin, blue flowers blooming among the thorns.

“I fear you won't comprehend the answer to your question” his old world vocabulary peeks out. Hobie whispers to you so you're the only one in the world that could hear his voice.

“And you won't understand mine. Guess we're even.”

There's a shakiness in your voice. Not from fear, but from realization. Talking to him gives you warmth, warmth to bask in, to comfort your soul, to love till your dying breath. You've never been more besotted in your entire life and you've only known him for a few weeks, weeks that feel like years to you.

There's excitement blooming in your chest even though your gut tells you there's danger ahead. Perhaps that's the reason why you're excited— the danger thrills you down to your bones.

Goosebumps appear on your arms despite the heat, Hobie leans over you, blocking the light, engulfing him in a halo. You're seeing God peer down on you.

He gently caresses your arm, laying your goosebumps back down and you keep forgetting to wear the necklace around him.

Your fingers twitch, itching to dance along his skin. There's a raw emotion behind his eyes, one that you can't decipher. Hobie pulls away, standing up, reaching down to you. Your hand connects to his, and you swear you hear tiny bells chime from somewhere.

“Why do you let me hang around you so much?” you stand toe to toe with Hobie, hand still in yours.

“You're in a questioning mood. It's the same reason why you keep coming back here”

Heat rises in your cheeks, you don't even know why. “It’s just—most people would have left by now”

“Not a regular person, remember?” He squeezes your hand just before he releases it. Turning away from you, Hobie addresses you over his shoulder. “Or have you forgotten already?”

You don't answer, not knowing what to say. Sometimes he makes you forget that he's a being beyond comprehension, a man more human than anybody you've come across. Then you get reminded he's not, that he's unfathomable to someone like you.

—

Exiting his domain, the fresh crisp autumn air greets you back. There's patches of ice left on the soft grass from when it rained last night. The sun slowly sets in the west, orange and pinks swirl in the sky. Leaves crunch under your trainers as you trudge the thicket. You've acclimated yourself with the woods, but it's still unfamiliar, your red ribbons tied around the trees help you in finding your way out.

You look up with a fond smile on your lips, watching how the sunlight peek through the leaves, letting the cool air kiss your cheeks. There's scurrying under the grass, birds chirp their night song. Your hands glide along the tree trunks and the silky ribbons, using it to guide your way. Your vision is suddenly cleared from treetops, the heavens in full display just for you.

You find yourself on the foot of a hill, one that looks so familiar yet strange. Not remembering this hill as part of your usual trek out, your mind is confused on how you got there in the first place. Trudging up the incline, you grab a long stick to help prop you up.

“Wow”

Breathing out, reaching the top, you watch the sunset bathe the hill in its heavenly glow. You chuckle softly to yourself, you can't remember ever seeing a magnificent sight like this in the crowded city.

“Pretty” you spot a large oak standing tall and forlorn just along the edges. Its tree trunk is dark with no leaves growing along its branch. It looms overhead, ancient and alone.

You expect its leaves to rustle when a wind passes, you're mesmerized by how grim yet beautiful the tree is. It’s alone and sickly, but it stands tall despite the elements and time ravaging its wood.

You decide to continue walking back to the manor now that the sun is merely minutes away from saying goodbye. Soon it'll be dark, soon there will be no light to guide you.

Carefully walking, you feel gravel under your feet, craning your neck down, you see no grass or any greenery. Just a circular patch of death, the soil is black, a deep contrast from the viridescent and orange around you. It matches the oak tree in a poetic eerie way.

You step away from it, the scorched earth sends shivers down your spine just from standing over it. The smell of burning wood hits your nose abruptly. A sense of dread and fear around it, turning your stomach inside out.

“There's something wrong here” You whisper above the wind. Promptly hasting your steps back towards the manor without looking back, afraid something else might gaze back.

—

As the weather grows colder your relationship with Hobie has gotten warmer. The dreams get more vivid, images of fireflies flying in the dark, bumblebees buzzing in your ears, Hobie’s sweet caresses and alluring voice makes it more enticing for you to stay asleep and forever live in the dream. Thanks to Nellie’s morning wake up call, you wake in time.

The strong feelings towards him all feels weird at first, there's always a push towards him, controlling you to call his name and yearn for his searing gaze. There's a mysterious longing, an affection that's completely unfounded. Perhaps the dreams helped you in realizing your emotions towards Hobie. Whatever it is, it has you in an iron grip, refusing to let go. It seems it has the same effect on Hobie too, there's always an immediate response the second you call out to him in the thick woods. His eyes never leave yours, how his touch would linger everytime your skin connects.

There's that electricity flowing between you both, something that makes sparks appear when he holds you. With every tentative touch there's affection behind it, soft smiles bring a promise. You want him to make a home inside your heart, stay there until he's molded himself in your arteries, until your veins run with him.

It's not all desire though, there's a profound need to be near him, to talk well into the night, share stories from almost forgotten memories. Conversing with him until your voice is hoarse from all the talking and laughter. You could just start talking about the surrounding woods and the next thing you know you're well off chattering about your deepest emotions like you're chatting with an old friend you haven't seen in years. You find making him laugh is the best part of your day.

You've grown to look forward to the banter every time you've finished your daily work. Dare you say the favourite part of your day is entering the woods. At first you would only go whenever you're bored or needed company from the isolation. Nellie’s the best at not making you feel so alone, but you still need someone who answers back. The once a week visit turned into twice a week, then to every other day, until you arrange your so-called meetings with him every single day.

It's basically routine now, but you don't always come to him, even though your soul screams to be by his side. That's why you're out in the woods with a basket of autumn flowers and berries you've foraged, it's the closest thing to being with him, to silence the raw hunger without indulging yourself by calling his name.

You have to slowly acclimate yourself by spending the entire day without ever seeing him. You've found him addicting, from his voice to his very presence.

And you're in withdrawal.

You dread being alone again when your contract ends. You'll find it hard to live day to day, still too used to your routine at Mudwood manor. So you're back in the thicket, so close yet so far from him with an excuse to go out and forage for… you don't even know, you just needed an excuse.

The wicker basket grows heavier in your arms the more you forage further into the woods. Which might not have been your best idea, especially when more eerie sounds enter the thick brush, eyes seem to wander around your form, watching, learning your movements. But you wanted to get out of the manor at the same time to be close to Hobie, and escape from the stifling stares of the paintings.

You could go to the small village, but you don't feel comfortable roaming even though you've been in the estate for almost five months. The villagers’ whispers and narrowed stares just get to you, even if you try not to.

You wanted to still be close to home.

But the grounds around the estate feels empty too, with crumbling foundations from ancient buildings that haven't been maintained and exposed to the elements, its brick and wood façade crumbling with just a gust of strong wind. The only building still standing inside the estate's land is the mausoleum, and you're not too keen to hang around the dead quite yet.

The place that you've found yourself most free in, a place where you feel safe in— the woods. You have A sense of belonging within the grove. Especially knowing that Hobie is one call away just in case something much worse decides to come after you.

You know he'll be there.

Rolling around the black cherry like berry in between your fingers, you keep finding your train of thought always leading towards him. Just the mere idea of him seems to relax you, bringing you a sense of peace that you've only felt while with him. You know it's wrong, wrong to feel this way towards the fae. A being that with one twitch of his finger could strike you dead, or make you fall to your knees. Which he hasn't done, not yet anyway.

You don't feel alone in the world anymore. With his company and Nellie's, you haven't smiled this much in a long time. The job was supposed to be isolating, unforgiving to the human need to socialize. With them in mind, it doesn't seem so bad, you should thank them both before you leave and end your contract with O’Hara, which is coming up sooner rather than later.

Taking a handful of berries, you stuff them inside the basket, the juice rubbing off on your palms. Bringing it closer to your mouth, tongue sticking out to taste it. A hand stops you from tasting the sweet nectar, webs wrap around his wrists, crawling towards your hand.

“Don't” you look at with questioning eyes, Hobie’s voice stern and commanding.

“Hello to you too”

“D’you want to kill yourself?” Hobie lets go of your hand, grabbing his cloak to use it in wiping your hand clean.

“No?” you watch closely as he gently cleans your hand free of juice.

“No? You're not sure?” He quirks a brow, still wiping every crevice of your palm.

“It was a question because I wasn't trying to kill myself.” You savour the skin on skin contact.

“Good, you're just stupid then.” You glare at him. “The plant's called ‘Belladonna’ or ‘deadly nightshade’ if you're more familiar with that name”

“Oh” you look down at your basket full of what you've thought to be blackberries. “Shit, I didn't know. Maybe I should've brought that book with me from the library”

“You should've.” Hobie finally lets go of your hand, already languishing the lack of contact. “What're you doin' here? Haven't I warned you enough about the things roaming around here?”

“What are you doing here? I didn't know you could even leave your abode”

“I can, only briefly” He leaves out the part where he feels a stinging sensation whenever he's outside, it's annoying at best, still, it pains his bones just to step outside.

“Are you okay?” You notice the sweat glistening on his forehead and how his eyebrows are subtly knitted together. “You look…” human? Sick? “Tired”

He tilts his head slightly. “You worried ‘bout me?”

Rolling your eyes, you decide to quip back. “Nope, you just look extremely ugly right now” a massive lie on your end. He could be wearing a trash bag and he would still be inhumanly handsome.

“I didn't know I had a mirror for a face” Hobie takes you by the sleeve of your coat whilst you gape at his roast. He chuckles softly at your reaction, brown eyes crinkling in happiness.

Entering his abode, more flowers have sprouted since you've met him. Flowers that don't usually grow in this weather: dandelions, daisies and watercolor roses sway in the wind. The willow tree stands greener and stronger than before. The table still sits in the middle of the glade, food from his realm lay forgotten, swept to a corner of the table. The food you've left for him is the centerpiece. Bread you've made from ingredients you've found in the pantry, fruits cut in misshapen pieces, butter from the fridge and an empty thermos of tea. The place looks and feels more homely. More human.

You drop the basket of poison right near where the ‘other’ food lay discarded.

Flopping down on a chair right next to his, you breathe in the warmer air, eyes closed, basking in the otherworldly warmth. Your skin glimmers in the light, a soft smile on your lips, head hanging over to the side of the marble chair; your neck in full display.

Hobie stares, swallowing the lump in his throat, knuckles tight. His instincts, his innate desire to defile you, to sink his teeth in your skin, biting, taking. Instead, he doesn't, you deserve so much more than that, deserving of affection and care that borderlines on love. Love that exceeds expectations, love that transcends through time. You're more than his desire.

You're sacred in his eyes.

The chair to your left scrapes along the grass, he sits next to you, he hasn't sat on the head of the table since you've decided it was alright for you to sit on a chair instead of just standing around.

You lean your head towards him, eyes cracking open, your smile growing wider.

“Hello there” you whisper the words to him like a secret only to be kept between you two.

Hobie blinks slowly, smile slowly spreading, he finds yours infectious. “Hello yourself, making yourself at home?”

“Mm-hmm, I want to savour it”

“Savour it? You can always come back here whenever you want”

“I know that, Hobie. My contract’s up.” You sharpen the knife. “I only have a week left here” then you stab him right through his heart.

He inhales sharply, sitting up right. The wind stops breezing past, stilling. Light slowly fading.

“Alright, this is goodbye then?”

“Of course not, I can always visit. Sure the drive is far and long and I'll technically be trespassing. But I can always visit”

“Don't come back” he says it softly, pleading almost. “It's better if you don't visit” Hobie stabs you with the same knife.

You try to find the humour in his voice, finding none but a straight faced Hobie, none of the life you're used to. “Why?”

“Because it's better”

You sit up, anger and confusion mixing together. A foul concoction. “Better for whom exactly?”

“For the both of us” He speaks monotonously. The knife twists in your gut.

“You know it's not, we both know it's not” you scoff. Shaking your head, hiding the tears collecting in your eyes.

“It is and I know”

“Yes, because you're all knowing and better than me” You spread your anger before him.

“I am” His eyes swirl into gold, no colour brown that you fell for.

You shake your head, standing up quickly, the chair falls, cracking the marble. “Okay then” masking the shaking of your voice with a clear of your throat. “Goodbye Hobie, it was… nice, yeah nice”

Not bothering to look back, you cross his threshold, leaving his abode. He gazes at his feet, forlorn yet there's no regret in his heart.

“it’s better for you” he tries to convince himself.

—

You stomp angrily inside the manor, the door bangs loudly as you close it with much frustration. Silent tears flow out, you sniff, rubbing it off with your sleeves. “He doesn't deserve my tears” you mumble.

The ringing sound from the living room makes you jump, “fuck!” The landline rings excessively, annoying your already angry state. You walk over to it, “I'm coming, christ”

“Hello?!” You answer the phone with hostility.

“Hello? Y/N?” Miguel's voice replies back, you regret your angry tone immediately.

You compose yourself. “Hi, Mr. O’hara. Sorry about that, I keep getting prank calls” A half lie, the phone rings in the dead of night every other day, good thing you're a night owl and you answer the empty calls. You're almost always reading through the night or annoying Nellie. Still, you find it weird that no one answers back.

“Are you okay?” Miguel sighs. There's a loud screeching sound in the background.

“Yes, are you okay? There's a weird sound on your end”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” There's shuffling in the background. “There, I'm in a quieter place. Is everything alright with Nellie and the house?”

“Yes, everything’s in tip top shape” you cringe at yourself.

He sighs, “Alright, good. Something came up and I gotta stay here a couple more weeks. Are you okay with that? Of course I'll add it to your salary, if not then it's okay.” There's a muffled clanking sound behind him.

“Yes, of course that's alright. I can't leave Nellie yet anyway” The said dog perks up from her sleeping position on the leather settee, wagging her tail, fluffy ears down.

“Thank you, Y/N. I'm off, thank you again”

“Of course, Mr. O’Hara” you click the phone down. Sighing, lumbering your way towards Nellie.

You lay over her dramatically, face full of her fur, hands mindlessly petting her, she huffs in return, letting air out her nostrils.

“Oh, Nellie, it's just us now, old girl”

She barks timidly in return.

“Yeah, yeah, I know it's my fault. Shouldn't have been there in the first place” you cuddle closer to her, she doesn't protest, wagging her tail from under you. “I'd be lying if I don't miss him” murmuring the words, your eyes start growing glassy once again.

“Fucking asshole”

—

It's been a week since you've seen him. Everytime you walk along the edge of the woods with Nellie by your side, you can't help but yearn for his presence. Purposely stopping by, a chance to see him again, even just a simple sign that he wants to see you again. Alas you don't get a trace of him, the woods are eerily quiet in your absence, there's a darkness permeating inside, spreading, echoing, longing.

Nellie tugs you away by her leash, with a bark she guides you back towards the manor. You look over your shoulder, a sudden scent of death whizzes behind you. Goosebumps rise on your skin, a shiver down your spine, perhaps it's a good idea to stay away for a while.

You sleep restlessly, waking up in intervals. Nellie helps though, she now sleeps on the foot of your bed. Her soft snores lull you to a rare dreamless sleep.

“Wake up”

Your ears perk up at the sound of a chair moving across hardwood floors, then almost immediately the scraping stops. Alarm bells start to ring out in your head. The first thing you grab is the nearest and sharpest thing inside the room, silently uncapping the fountain pen, the sharp tip glistens in the moonlight. You tiptoe over to your bedroom door.

Slowly opening it enough to peek through, your heart sinks down to your stomach at the sight of torch lights moving around the ancient walls of the manor.

Hushed whispers can be heard from downstairs, they creep and snicker, tamping down any loud noise whenever they bump into furniture. But you heard them, holding the fountain pen with an iron grip, you close the door as quietly as you can, locking it right after.

“Why are you shushing me? There's no one here” a gruff voice yells out. Making you stop in your tracks, Nellie fully wakes up, alert, wide eyes staring at the door then back to you.

“Still, shut the fuck up!” Another man whisper yells, “this place is old, we might wake up the dead”

“Idiot, you still believe that? What are you five?” A male unfamiliar voice chides in.

There's three of them. Your lips wobble in fear, knees threatening to give out from under you. Your room is on the third floor, too high up to jump down, if you decide to risk it, you would most definitely break your legs or worse. And how would Nellie get out if you survive the fall? An older dog like herself wouldn't make it if she fell that high up.

So you decide on a split second decision, it's either the bathroom or the wardrobe. You surmise that if they would get inside, they would check the bathroom first; giving you ample time to run downstairs and get to your car. So you make time to grab your key inside the drawer, pocketing it inside your sweatpants.

You make your way towards Nellie, grabbing her by the collar, there's no time to be polite but you still guide her as gently as you can– taking her towards the large wardrobe. She doesn't protest, letting you lead her inside. Sitting down next to her, closing the double doors– its hinges creek, you cringe at the sound, loud enough for them to hear the squeak. Once closed, you move the coats back in its place on the rack, acting as another barrier between you and the doors.

You hope it's enough to protect you and Nellie.

She sits down obediently, eyes trained outside. Your hands ache from how hard you're gripping onto the pen.

“Nellie” you whisper, “stay quiet, please.” With shaking hands, you pet her by the ear. “They might not even check here” you reassure yourself. Nellie stares you down, a face you've never seen her make before.

She scooches closer to you, protecting your body from the outsiders. Her fur warms you, calming you a little. Nellie huffs once footsteps walk up the stairs, every step acting like a death knell, counting down to the inevitable.

You pray to every deity there is, your mind wishes that Hobie’s with you, he would know what to do. You desperately need a bright idea for an escape, anything will do in hopes of ever seeing him again, to live through this nightmare.

There's footsteps in the doorway.

“It's locked” the doorknob rattles, tears start forming in your eyes, blurring your much needed vision.

“Move, I'll open it” voice muffled nonetheless frightening you with how close the sound is.

Covering your mouth, body trembling in fear, silent tears flow freely. Your hands tremble, the pen leaving indents on your palm, angry marks sears into your newly healed wound, opening it once again, your life flowing out of you.

Bang!

The sound makes you flinch, whimpering as Nellie looks on. The door is in danger of opening from the harsh kick.

“Christ! You're being too loud”

“We're in the middle bumfuck nowhere, no one's gonna hear”

Bang!

Metal hinges fall on the hardwood floors, scraping towards your hiding place.

“One more, hurry up! The good stuff must be inside”

“You wanna fucking do it yourself? Get off my back”

Bang!

You tamp down a scream when the large door bursts open, falling harshly on the floor, Nellie covers your entire body with hers, stance at the ready. A bundle of nerves sit on the bottom of your stomach, clinging, waiting with baited breath.

One whistles out, “Big fucking room, search the place, the safe must be in here”

“You fuckin' search it, you're not the boss” he seethes, voice fading towards somewhere. “I'll look through the other rooms, you stay here”

The other intruder clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Look who's acting like a boss. Asshole”

Heavy footfalls march towards the bathroom, you shiver, heart thundering inside your chest. Your soul is familiar with the feeling, anticipating your fate.

The doors to the bathroom creek open, you hide your frightened face on Nellie's shoulders like a child hiding behind their mother's skirt. Soft fur tickles your cheeks, you hold onto her, anchoring yourself.

“Goddamn, these faucets must've cost a fortune.” Judging from his footsteps, he seems to leave the bathroom “I don't have time to dismantle those. Now, where in the world is that safe” you hear boots thump on wooden floors, getting closer and closer towards the wardrobe.

Clutching the sharp pen, you wipe your eyes free of tears with your sleeve, brows furrowed in anger, lips trembling.

Right before the wardrobe doors split open, Nellie lunges, growling like a woman scorned. Her large canines bare at the man clad in black. With a quick movement, she aims for the jugular.

Blood gushes out, spraying your face with hot crimson. Nellie's snout covered in the same shade, her mismatched eyes wild with anger. Her body growing larger by the second, paws as big as your head, claws digging into the man's torso–shredding his skin down to his bone.

You hear a woman whisper “Run!” In your ears.

With a pained yelp, the man gurgles, slowly drowning in his own blood, Nellie's fangs still buried in his neck— a sea of red coating the polished floors.

Sparing Nellie one last look, she devours the man, sounds of tearing flesh playing over and over in your mind. A knife glistens in the moonlight, stabbing your protector in her stomach, a last ditch effort to escape.

Running away, pen still in your grip, you run into another man, crashing your body into his.

“What—?” He holds you by your shaking shoulder, dark eyes full of bad intention.

You don't waste time in lifting the pen, stabbing him in between his ribs. Blood leaks out, dripping into the carpet. He staggers back in surprise, still holding onto you, his back hits the bannister in a second, losing his balance.

He takes you down with him.

Air escapes your lungs as you plummet down to the foyer, closing your eyes, you brace for impact. A vision fills your mind, a memory perhaps, a memory that's definitely not your own. Or maybe one that you don't remember.

You fall simultaneously with your other self, the smell of salt and sea fills your nostrils. With your hands tied behind your back, the large stone weighing you down, helping you sink further and further into the deep. Bubbles float above you as darkness swallows you whole. Lungs filled with saltwater. You don't fight the current because it wouldn't have mattered.

It would always end like this.

You hit the ground in an ugly crunch of bones and skin, groaning, gore staining your head. Iron wafts your nostrils. The once clean home is now dirtied with crimson and shattered wood. There's ringing in your ears, hands and back filled with shards of glass from the vase that used to decorate the foyer. Chrysanthemums litter the floors, petals crushed– bloodied and broken.

You spot the open door, cold entering inside, the full moon beckons you over. Crawling to it, glass pricks your forearms, staining the antique carpets. Legs pulsing in pain. With one eye open, ichor gushing out from your forehead– you have one place in mind to seek sanctuary. Someone to help you in your injured state.

“Please” you can barely recognize your own voice, begging to get to safety, pleading to whoever is watching over you to let you live.

Just this one time.

“Liam!” A woman yells from the second floor, fast footsteps echo out in the estate. She grabs you by the foot, dragging you back inside, away from escape.

“You fucking bitch!” her shrill voice dampens your screams of protest.

You try kicking her with the last of your strength, but to no avail. Her razor-edged nails dig into your skin, your palm slides over to a sharp shard of glass, you immediately bend at the waist, stabbing it into her hand.

She yells, letting your foot go. The woman slowly took the shard out of her hand. Flesh opens up, muscle peeking through the wound. Heaving, she has ember in her eyes, you have fire in yours.

As you stand up on your feet, glass and splinters leaving jagged edges over the soles of your bare feet. Lips parted, your eyes catch a glimpse of the man you stabbed taking slow strides in front of you. Bloodied hand now holding on to the weapon you used. Scarlet flowing freely over his mad eyes.

He spits out blood, platinum hair covered in his own gore, teeth stained with crimson. “You weren't supposed to be here”

“You should've left while you had the chance, girl” the woman holds her own hand, trying to stop the bleeding. “or at least not cause problems for us. You had to be a hero, huh? No matter, we can handle you” she brandishes a knife big enough to butcher you.

The man beside her snickers, “And to think I was about to help you, I was the nice one y’know” he drops your bloodied pen, replacing it with rope from his belt.

“Fuck you” gritting your teeth, you curse at them with calmness you never thought you still had.

“Feisty, oh we'll have our fun with you!” She hits you with the butt of her knife, you flinch back, enough to lessen the impact, but the pain still leaves you blind for a second.

Doubling over in pain, she takes the chance to kick your stomach. Bile rises up in your throat, acid comes out of your battered mouth, smearing the floors. Now on your knees, the man tries to kick your spine but you're not going down without a fight. You take his leg just before it collides with your back, holding it, twisting it down with your whole body until he falls flat on his face.

“Bitch!” Knuckles hit your cheek, your nose cracking under the pressure.

You lay in a fetal position, shielding your head with your stained arms, ichor spread around you, seeping out of you, covering you. They kick and hit as a punishment, numerous voices laugh in your ears. The soft soil on your back, staining your clothes, tire tracks left on your skin, lower body nowhere to be seen. The blood stained tracks on concrete, your vision disappearing.

With your last strength, you time the kicks where they stop for a brief second near your face, grabbing her ankle, you bite a chunk of her Achilles heel. She falls on her back unceremoniously, screaming and cussing.

You spit out her flesh, showing off your bloodstained teeth with a cold smile at her partner.

“Fucker–!” He lifts up his boot, ready to strike you down.

A flash of black and white and then he no longer stands before you. His body flinged away, Nellie biting his head off in one feral bite. Head rolling to the soles of the woman.

“What the fuck!” The lone woman yells, a grave mistake she would soon learn.

Nellie sharply turns her head, fangs in full display, claws tapping on the floor, stalking her prey. Her once soft fur is all sharp and upright in fury. She pounces on the intruder, her entire body hiding the deed from you. You could only hear her screams and skin tearing into a bloody mess. Blood flies out of her like leaves blown away by the wind.

With one last squelch of skin and blood, Nellie stops growling, silence envelopes the entire manor.

“Nellie?” You breathe out, throat scratching like nails on a chalkboard.

She looks over her massive shoulder, fur covered in shredded clothes and guts. Her eyes are the only indication that she's the same dog you used to walk around the manor, the same one who sleeps by your bed since you got her back. The same Nellie you've grown to care for.

“Come here” you reach out to her with your shaking hand, she taps it with her snout, warmth

coating your palm. “You saved me, good girl” she nuzzles her head, huffing out in content, tail wagging in delight.

Bang!

A gun goes off, Nellie whines, dropping her dead weight right in front of you. Her essence flows out of her like a rushing river. She shrinks back to her normal form, an old border collie lay before you, whimpering in pain, eyes pleading for help.

“No!” Your voice breaks, hands searching her fur for the wound. Tears slide down your cheeks, leaving a trail of skin free of blood.

Looking behind you, another man stares at the sight in horror, intestines decorate the ancient walls, stray teeth litter around the floors like petals. Blood paints the halls of the great manor. His companions lay dead, bodies growing cold.

“You!” his voice shakes, the barrel of the gun pointed over your temple. He slaps you with the butt of his gun, you fall back down on the gore filled floor.

Everything hurts, your head pounding like a drum, arms stinging, nose aching, your lungs fight to inhale air. The beautiful chandelier you admired is your only audience to the grim scene that unfolded. And the only witness to your impending demise. You try to reach for the keys inside your pocket, resulting in the man stomping hard on your fingers, your bones crack under the pressure.

The man spits maliciously at your pain enveloped form, with a blink an older woman does the same.

“Witch!” She points her crooked finger at your tied form. The spectators scream in agreement. Faceless crowd jeering for your demise.

Snow covers the hill you were once safe in, snowflakes stick to your wet lashes, wood and timber at your feet, the thin white shift you wore doesn't shield you from the cold; in spite of the weather, you're warm. The searing heat burns your skin. Flames rising up, melting the ice underneath. The smoke burns your lungs, coughing, eyes stinging from all the tears you've shed.

“I am innocent, please!” You plead to deaf ears. “Spare me!”

One throws a rock at your shaking form, it hits your bare shoulder, the fire grows closer, it licks up your feet, scorching, burning. You screech in agony, calling his name, hoping he appears despite knowing he won't, can't.

“Hobie!” You feel yourself turning into ash. The growing life inside of you savagely ends abruptly.

“Hobie” clinging to life, your lips forming his name, instinctively calling for him. A whisper, a prayer just for him.

Furious wind rushes inside, the burglar shields his face with his arms, his face mask falling off his face. You crumple further into yourself, whimpering from all the searing pain.

Suddenly, the air stills, the sound of splitting logs, creaking and lumbering, you can smell morning dew through your broken nose. Spiders skitter onwards, black and red dots crawling all over the man. He screams in fear, trying to shake them off as the arachnids march on. Numerous more enter, engulfing his entire body. He hits the walls in an attempt to kill them off, they scatter away like dust, running away when the sound of nails scraping on wood can be heard.

He looks relieved for only a brief moment, then despair fills his entire being. Fear clutches your heart, eyes glued to the sound. There's a lull in the chaotic moment, silent as a monastery.

Lithe fingers slowly furling over the door frame, nails as dark as death itself emerge. Bones creaking, trees cracking, breaking apart at its roots. Your soul sings whilst you feel your heart stop, green whizzes past in a flash.

He stands there, an enormous stature, cloak draped behind him, an ocean of green, a flash of red in his eyes— his hand wrapped around the man's throat, nails digging and drawing pinpricks of scarlet. The pistol falls on the ground, metal striking the wood. He gasps in terror as you watch on with wide eyes.

You witness a myth come true right in front of you.

Spider legs unfold behind him, ripping his cloak, it twitches, the sharp ends poking and prodding at his victim. With a quick movement, Hobie impales the man with his eight legs, right through his torso, neck, legs, groin and eyes.

A life ends once more, a waterfall of warm ichor flowing down, spreading across the hardwood, staining your already blood-soaked clothes.

Hobie lets the corpse go, falling loudly and mercilessly. The corpse's dead eyes stare upon yours. The image would forever stay with you.

He kneels before you, spider legs retracting into his back; fury subsiding in his golden eyes, brown mixing in. Humanity seeping through him like the blood coating his hands. You observe through half lidded eyes, his scent masks the death around you.

Hobie hovers his knuckles over your ruined skin, he avoids the angry gashes of broken skin.

“Clover, what are you– what have they done to you?” For the first time since he saw you last, He feels helpless, a childlike fear under his otherworldly eyes. “I'm so sorry”

You wheeze out a reply. Crimson coated hand reaching out for him. He cups it gently, gore blending together. A vision of him holding you amidst the dark, flushed skin upon bare flesh, fluttering body under his, lips over your neck, nipping and kissing, passion rolling out in waves, love hanging in the air. Desire fulfilled.

“Hobie–” a raspy breath escapes, you don't recognize your own voice anymore.

“Don't talk, I've got you” carefully and effortlessly, he carries you.

You yelp, everything burns, your joints, your skin, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. Yet, his searing warmth comforts you, the familiarity brings a small smile onto your lips.

“I’m right here” his voice wavers, each step heavier than the other.

In that moment, you know everything will be alright.

Holding on, you paint his chest with blood that might be yours. The cold hits you, consciousness fading.

“Well? Your name?” He asks pensively.

“Rose”

“Poppy–”

Snowflakes drop to your eyelashes, melting over your skin.

“Dahlia–”

“Violet–”

The stabbing pain in the back of your skull persits, your life dripping onto fresh snow. Dirtying the earth.

“Iris”

“Fern”

You feel your legs go numb, Hobie's eyes forlorn, his bones ache, yet his grip stays strong.

“Lily–”

“Daisy, my name is Daisy”

He smiles, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Clever one, I welcome you, my name is–”

“I know you” whispering your words, Hobie stops in his tracks. Flicking his eyes down, he sees a sight that breaks what is left of his heart.

“I-I know you” you repeat it for yourself, trying to comprehend it all. Tears unknowingly let out, broken fingers brushing across his jaw.

“You do”

Swallowing a lump of blood stuck in your throat, you mumble out, trying your best to speak. “How–?”

“That's not important, you need to get better or–” he releases a sharp breath, “the food inside the abode can heal you, but it has consequences.” Hobie pleads with you with just a single look. “Do you understand what it means?”

You nod weakly. “Nellie, she's—”

“She'll be alright, that dog has gone through worse.”

You believe him, hoping that she's alright, wishing that she'll be back on her feet and waiting for you back at the manor. There's only hope now for you as the light behind your eyes dim.

You now enter the woods, your limbs grow weaker with every step. Hobie’s searing heat is the only thing keeping you awake. Your blood stains his torso red, the once green colour of his cloak now dirtied with coagulating blood. His own agony makes it harder for him to walk, stabbing his muscles, arms shaking under your weight.

“I’ve got you, I've got you” He repeats it like a mantra. “Stay awake for me, please” Hobie peers down, observing how your blood doesn't stop from gushing out, how your lungs fight to exhale air.

You have questions rushing through your mind, the answers will bring light to your very existence. You don't even know who you are right now but the pains and ache makes your thoughts foggy. At this rate you'll die before you get the answers you need.

Hobie stops abruptly, a snap of a twig from behind makes him whirl towards the sound. Then you smell it, flesh decaying, the smell of burning hair. There's something or someone shambling behind the trees, the rattling sound of chains being dragged along the path turns the blood inside your veins into ice.

Panic settles in Hobie’s stomach. He's frozen under the eyeless gaze of the entity.

He suddenly becomes the prey.

Its skeletal figure continuously drips thick dark blood onto the grass below, its bones chatter in the wind, long fingers pointing at you, bringing the large chains strapped on its wrist above, weighing its lithe arm down.

You were never welcomed here.

An image of a tall man converges with the ugly thing, suddenly, Hobie's right next to him. His entire body covered and trapped by thorny vines, pricking his skin, drops of ichor fall like dew drops on the soil.

The other being turns his head towards Hobie who struggles against the binds. The deer skull hides the fae’s face from view, his dark hair cascading around his bare shoulders. Tiny bells ring on his staff as he grabs Hobie by his jaw, sharp nails digging into his flesh.

“You bare the greatest sin” his voice a mere whisper yet as loud as an ocean wave crashing along the shores. “for what? A pet?” He turns towards you, dark eyes flicking down to your stomach. “An abomination, an affront, a mistake” the being spits venom.

“Now, she must be punished as do you” he turns his neck with a snake-like movement back to Hobie. “You've cursed her, Web weaver. Only by her own hand can cut the ties. Then and only then, she may be free from the binds you have put her in”

Hobie’s eyes are laden with fear and anger, his mouth covered by the same vines, unable to speak. His panicked eyes meet yours, tears freely flow from the brown you love.

You bravely stare at the fae next to him, fury settling in your soul, horror hidden behind the fire in your veins. He tilts his head, a sinister smile on his thin lips. There's flowers in your lungs. With a small wave of his fingers, you get flinged back.

Condemned to a deathless death.

Its jaws unhinge, a guttural high pitch sound blows your eardrums. Hobie kneels, letting you down on the moist soil just before the monster lunges for you.

Blades of grass stab your injuries. You stare up at the familiar ball of light, your fingers clutch the grass when a wave of pain hits your skull.

“Hobie?” Sobbing, you don't see him next to you. “Hobie?!” in your desperation, you yell for him.

There's an ache behind your sockets, memories flash by, once your own, centuries of despair, death and yearning. And you've lived through every single one. You feel remorse for all the lives you've lived, all the hatred and confusion that stems from the first life, from simply loving someone out of reach.

Crawling on the earth, if you bring your ears to the ground, you hear his shouts and struggle against the creature. Your soul begs for you to help him, but how could you do anything in your state? You barely feel your legs now, your right eye shut completely closed from the injury.

With your one good eye, you see your trembling broken fingers ahead of you, desperately clawing at the grass.

Finally reaching the table, you grab its leg. The table shakes briefly, a berry falls, bouncing in front of your eyes. A loaf of bread follows it on the grass.

You have a choice layed out in front of you.

You want to correct everything that your past selves couldn't. But will you be brave enough to do it? Or will you stutter like the others?

Your mind struggles to choose, taking a handful of nightshade would break the curse that's befell you all those years ago. No more struggling, no more pain and death for the next you to bear.

The cycle could finally end with you.

Or you take a piece of bread from his table and continue to live on. Who wouldn't want to live? Your body dies but your soul lives on in a different variant of you. After eating it would bind you to Hobie, you could love him till your time ends and another begins.

Why is it your problem to break the curse? Why not the next one or the one after that? Is it your responsibility to break the wheel?

Is it bad to want to live with the love of your life?

With one bite and you'll stay in this realm, even if the curse looms over your head, forever waiting for your death, whether by time's hand or another vile thing that plucks you from the garden of life. But you get to stay with him, experience what your former selves have.

Then the cycle would continue on unbroken.

Hobie will win against the creature, you're sure of it. And he'll be back here to pick up the pieces of you. You're alone in this choice.

Which one will you choose?

>>> Nightshade

>>> Bread

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

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Severing Ties

<<< PART III

You choose to break the cycle despite your human need to live.

The berry tastes sweet, you would've thought it to be a regular fruit if not for the bitterness swimming in your tongue in a cruel aftertaste. You let it coat your mouth.

Sobbing, you gather enough strength from the growing numbness in your muscles to prop yourself up on the edge of the table. Finding more of the deadly belladonnas sitting perfectly still. You take more, and more, until there's a handful inside your mouth. Your muscles shake, eye blurry not from the tears. There's a growing fever in your bones.

You manage to sit on Hobie’s chair, lethargy in your whole body, heart beating faster and faster. Heat from the poison enhances the pain from your wounds. Sweat doesn't cling to your skin even with the searing fever.

You can't feel your tongue anymore.

There's panicked hands roaming your face, convulsions rocking your entire body. Your muscles twitch involuntarily.

“It's alright,” Hobie softly says, holding your body close to his, cradling your head on his chest.

You can't feel the grass underneath you.

You'd think you're hallucinating, but with a heavy kiss on the crown of your head you know you're not.

“Hobie” your words are a slurry inside your mouth.

“Shh” he rocks you gently, tears collect on your head like rain.

You feel the stickiness from the black blood on his side. But he doesn't seem to care with you in his arms. Hobie's been in the same situation a thousand times before but it has never felt this way, knowing this is your last goodbye.

You forget you're dying for a brief beautiful moment.

“I'm right here with you” Hobie knew that this would happen, that you'd choose to cut the ties binding you to this realm, that you'd fight fate herself. “You'll be—” he can't say the word, because he can't lie, especially to you.

“I-I wish I could tell you my name” with broken fingers, you cup his neck, just on his thumping pulse.

He's afraid.

“Don't” Hobie kisses your temple, once “don't” twice.

“After this,” you wheeze. “P-please, forget me. You have to forget me”

“I can't, if I i did I wouldn't remember who I am”

He leans away, you could only see his silhouette, it's enough to bring a smile to your lips.

“Always so stubborn”

With an exhale, you succumb to the poison.

The wheel now lay broken with Hobie gripping you tightly. Thread cut in the middle. He felt you leave.

The woods claim another life.

Would it be wrong for him to think that you should've stayed? He always thought you'd one day choose this, but does it have to be so painful for you?

Hobie was always ready for you to go but it doesn't mean it hurt him less, he knows you well enough that you'd understand and for the sake of the both of you, end the chains of burden that has connected you with him for centuries.

Gone are the days of him waiting for another you to wander back to the woods. Gone are the days of him eventually falling for you. You're gone, you left no trace of you, or your love for him except for your corpse that's barely recognizable under your injuries and an imprint of your soul forever in him.

Your paths will never cross again.

It's been days since your final death, his grief turned into fury. Anger that stays in his guts, residing there until its hunger is satiated. Compelled to hurt the being that brought you through the pain and sorrow of living a thousand lifetimes only for you to fall for him over and over again, and to die the most painful ways in the end of the cycle.

Fate is cruel, but nothing is more cruel than a lover scorned.

As Hobie lays you down on a field of flowers you've once named yourself after, he leaves one final kiss over your cold cheek. He stands up with one last look over to your corpse, feeling you stand beside him like always, but he finds an empty space.

A space where your soul should be.

The fire inside him rages, turning around to face the dilapidated arch, he hungers for revenge.

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the-kr8tor · 4 months

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After the Fall

Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, set after 'The Fall'. The aftermath of either endings you chose. TW blood, TW gore, TW Death, TW animal injury, CW implied violence, CW body horror. Fae au lore

A/N: Surprise! Have a lil something that's been eating at me since TF ended. The series is a must read for you to understand this one 🫶

Navigation

The Fall Masterlist

The large doors dance in the freezing blizzard. It's sound clunking and banging against the ancient walls of Mudwood Manor. Miguel wades through the ankle deep snow, the ice freezing him to the bone, the snowflakes pricking his skin instead of the gentle kiss it usually brings.

The fog obscures the Manor, but before he even steps inside, he knows there's something wrong, from how the wind howls right in his ears, whispering death and blood. After living in the cursed place since birth he just knows. It's just like that morning again. He dreads going inside his own home.

Something horrific lies inside.

The smell hits him first, the rot and decay of flesh and bones. His boots thump loudly in the dead quiet, he doesn't want to disturb whatever awaits him inside or it might just wake up.

He walks on something soft, the squelch sending shivers down his spine.

His eyes stay ahead of him like an army man, his hand shakes as Miguel finally sees the once pristine Manor.

There's dried blood on the walls, painting the oak in a morbid artwork. The sharp pieces of his mother's old vase lie across the floor, dotting it like sharp edged stars.

There's a hand, a kneecap, and a head turned home for the maggots right next to his father's armchair.

His heart pounds against its confines. Palms sweating on the leather straps of his bag. Even the strong stomached would empty out their dinner after seeing all the gore laid out in front of him.

Miguel's eyes search for you, the picture from your resume serves as his reminder of what you look like. Carefully moving along the bloodied mess, he looks under a mauled body for you.

Nothing.

On the couch there's only a severed arm on the expensive leather. He hopes that you still live, that you're still hiding somewhere, thinking that these people were still after you.

He sees a gun on the ground crawling with black spiders.

Miguel knows you're not here anymore.

But he still hopes, prays that you're hidden beneath the floorboards or inside the wardrobe. So he yells your name, his voice bouncing off the gut filled walls.

Nothing.

He screams again, his tonsils hurt but he continues to yell again. There's scattered teeth near his boots. Again. There's a fountain pen covered in dried blood, the finger prints still dirtying the silver. Again. There's bloodied fur on the ground next to the gun. Nellie

He changes course. “Nellie!”

Nothing.

“Fuck! Come on old girl, where are you?!” Miguel hears metal clinking upstairs.

He jogs up to the stairs, avoiding coagulated blood on the narra. There's dog footprints on it, hope blossoms in his chest.

Your bedroom doors are open, burst at the hinges. The smell is much worse in the smaller space. A splattering of blood decorates your floors. A body lies cold, the face completely gone, unrecognizable.

Miguel hears a whine from your bed, he turns around to see Nellie curled around herself, eyes big and watery, her snout covered in gore.

“Nellie” He says softly, walking over the corpse to get to her.

She whines sadly, huffing yet her tail is straight and alert.

“You're alright now, girl. Nothing’s gonna happen” Miguel sits on your bed carefully so he doesn't disturb the sheets you've left.

Nellie whines again, nuzzling the sheets that still smell like you.

“It was her again, huh?” He pets Nellie behind her ear, Miguel feels the matted fur. “You alright?”

It's not his first time encountering death in the manor, he'll bury the dead and scrub the floors and walls clean but he'll still know that blood was spilled in his family home, crimson once flowed between the gaps in the floorboards like a river. He'd know that you once lived here, and that he was too stupid to ignore the signs. Miguel's mind races with what ifs but he could only cling to Nellie who's been here before him, and who will be here after he leaves this life.

Nellie closes her eyes painfully. She's still hurting. She feels you in the trees, she still smells your scent that's slowly fading away but she can't feel you anymore. She can't feel your soul anymore.

She failed. Again.

She should've tried harder this time, warned you, hell, even bit you just so you could stay away. But her aging mind prevents her from doing that. Centuries of sorrow and blood have fogged up her mind, her vision wasn't what it once was. Her claws are not as sharp as before. But she had hope this time, hoped that you'd stay away from the woods, hope that you won't fall for him once again.

But hope is a fickle thing, she shouldn't have relied on it.

As if Miguel knows what she's thinking, he whispers. “Not your fault, it was destined. But I'm still sorry. I don't know what happened here or what has become of her but…you can rest now, I'm here and when you wake up we'll wait, then you can try again”

She nuzzles against Miguel's hand. Remembering the day she first met you, all kind eyes and soft touches, you had heart and she's willing to protect that no matter how long it takes. Whether you've finally decided to break the cycle or you chose to continue once again like the hundred versions of you have done before you. She'd shield you, help you in finally ending the rotten fate that has befallen you.

Until you fall again, she'll be there.

A/N: to all the lovelies who read TF, thank you! This one is for you 🫶

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the-kr8tor · 6 months

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The Fall

Pairing: fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 18.8k

Synopsis: You've never thought taking a house sitting job would land you somewhere a human shouldn't be in.

Tags: Fae! Hobie, Fem! Reader, no specific physical description of the reader, TW blood, CW injury, horror elements, TW gore, Fae AU, specific warnings will be added to every part.

A/N: This fic contains dark themes, reader discretion is advised.

*I don't consent to having my work translated published on other platforms and copy pasted on any Ai software*

*all pictures are sourced from pinterest*

Navigation

Masterlist

Part I - Mudwood Manor.

Part II - He Beckons.

Part III - Scarlet Leaves

Ending I - (???)

Ending II - (???)

After the Fall

Sent by the readers:

TF memes by @hunx147 (spoiler warning ⚠️)

1 2 3 4

Fae! Hobie fanart by @rexlroze

Spotify playlist

Reblog banner by @/cafekitsune

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rexlroze · 2 months

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WIP:3

TW — Nudity

Almost done with this sh' except the fuckin' groot jeans. Then I have to make the damn props 'n sh and color shade etc etc blah blah blah.

Here's a juicy view (TW);

@the-kr8tor I have something inappropriate to say (again)

#atsv hobie #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #fae! hobie #wip #RexlRoze #RexlRoze's Art #RexlArt #Juicy view #tw nudity

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rexlroze · 2 months

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WIP

I think I'm most likely losing my brain with this one.

WHAT ARE THOSSSEEE?

I've gone over 7 different styled pants and they all look hideous. 🙂

@the-kr8tor Are you happy with your half-grooted Hobie, hm? Are you? HUH?

#Fae! Hobie #WIP #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #spider punk #atsv hobie #hobie brown x reader #RexlRozeArt #fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #the fall #fanart #Fae! Hobie Fanart #work in progress #TF #I'm losing my shit over here #RexlRoze's Art #RexlRoze #RexlArt

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the-kr8tor · 10 months

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the-kr8tor's Masterlist- Hobie Brown/Spider-Punk

*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*

🕷️ Spider-Man across the spiderverse 🕷️

♥️ Hobie Brown/ Spider-Punk

I'll keep saving you over and over again.

Hobie Brown night-time Headcanons

Snow and Piercings

(Un)Lucky

Spider-punk x blackcat! Reader Drabble

Hobie catches you wearing his mask

Silk & Cologne (Hobie x silk!reader headcanons)

Hobie meets your cats for the first time

Hobie nurses you back to health (ft: the cats)

Under the clock tower (time loop au)

Alternate ending

You stay the night at Hobie's for the first time

The Morning after (part 2 of the fic above)

Heatwave (ft: the cats)

Hobie takes you web swinging around the city

The one with the baby

Speed Drive - 500 celebration fic 🎉

Sparring with Hobie

Birthday Blues -Dad! Hobie

Bad Idea, right?

In Pursuit of Blood: A trip down goblin lane

Mr and Mrs Smith AU: When Jane met John

🌹 Series Masterlist 🌹

Thread the Needle- Hobie Brown x fashion student! Fem! Reader 🧵🪡

The Fall- Fae! Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader 🍀🕸️

Between the Devil and the Sea- Pirate! Hobie x fem! Reader ⚓🌊

♥️Request Masterlist (Hobie x reader)♥️

-REQUESTS ARE CLOSED- PLEASE CHECK MY RULES-

🌹 Fluffy Fridays Request Masterlist 🌹

-Requests for fluffy fridays are closed- check the rules here-

🧵 Thread the Needle one shots 🪡

🍒Request Masterlist II (Hobie x reader)🍒

💙 Request Masterlist III (Hobie x reader) 💙

🍼 Dad! Hobie/ Twin AU Collection 🧸

Reblog banner by @/cafekitsune

#hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider punk x reader #atsv fanfiction #hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #masterlist #the kr8tor's creations

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the-kr8tor · 6 months

Text

He Beckons

Pairing: fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), TW blood, CW injury, CW gore, TW death, CW body horror, CW arachnophobia.

The Fall Masterlist

Navigation

PART II >>> PART III

Your mind almost breaks trying to comprehend everything all at once. It all screams at you, at the same time the quiet deafens your ears.

The first thing you've noticed is the wind, or the lack of it. There's no leaves rustling in the wind, no howling from the harsh blow of it; like it's forbidden for the wind to come inside, it stills, forever lingering outside. The air is stale, everything around you seems to be stuck in time. Idle and waiting for something that will wake them again.

Is this a dream?

Slowly moving your head to look over your shoulder, frightened, knees threatening to give out from the fear of the unknown.

Not knowing what's behind you is much more terrifying than bracing yourself to be braver and just look.

With trepidation, you dare look behind.

You feel like lighting has struck you dead on. Feeling it curl from your fingertips up to your heaving chest. It stops where your heart is, for a second you feel it stop beating, blood coagulating inside, choking and killing your body. But your soul, your soul has never felt more alive. You feel it lifting away from you in glee, fingers reaching out to him in a way you couldn't control. Then it snaps back to you like a taut rubber band. Life returns to you in a second, eyes adjusting to the light, you take all of him in all his glory.

Him.

Human in all physicality yet primordial in nature. He takes your breath away, skin smooth, free from any imperfections, glistening in the light like polished copper. Standing tall, his hand beckons you over in a come hither gesture. Arms covered in fine webs, more beautiful than any jewel you've ever seen. You don't move, still as a rock. He tilts his head at your defiance.

His torso in full display, save for a singular vine placed horizontally on his chest, its leaves mirroring the ones clinging onto the estate's walls. Muscles prominent under the deep green of his cloak, collar reaching up to his neck, its edges stop right under his jawline. It's pinned together by a blood red spider frozen in time, holding it willingly just for him. His unusually tall stature sends shivers down your spine. He towers over you, height far too tall for a human to have.

Sauntering over to your frozen state, your eyes drift over to his legs, the entirety of his lower body is covered in tree bark. With every foot step, he leaves wild flowers in his wake. Small, colorful and something that's not of this world.

Your lungs seem to forget how to breathe with how he looms over you, casting a long shadow, blanketing your entire body. He faces you towards him with just his pinky atop your shoulder, it's enough to send electricity right through you.

"I asked you, it's rude not to answer" there's a deep rumble in his chest, almost like a purr after he notices you bravely staring deep into his eyes.

Gold swirls in his eyes like an ocean wave, you feel like drowning in its waters.

Eyes shifting down, you see him smirk, tiny vines and leaves dance under his skin. Moving and breathing like a living thing in itself. His face looks like it was chiseled by the Gods themselves, fine marble cut to perfection.

He takes your chin in between his fingers, lifting it slightly so you could look into his eyes once again. You see something dark shift in his stare, swallowing a lump in your throat, you feel his searing gaze on your neck as it bobs up and down. His scent enters your senses, he smells like morning dew over a hill after rain poured over it overnight. Flowers, you surmise, mixes in with the scent. From his touch to his narrowed gaze, it overwhelms your very being.

Not a dream.

You feel something stirring inside your gut instead of just fear. Excitement perhaps? Or is it your mind playing tricks? Whatever it is, it's pushing you towards him like a puppet on strings.

"Are you alive in there?" There's cotton in your mouth. "Do you even have a tongue?"

With a shaky breath, you speak. "I have a tongue"

Pointed ears perk up at the sound, you notice the chip on the shell of his right ear. Thorns piercing the skin decorate his ears.

"She speaks" He lets go of your skin, stepping back to take you in. Flicking his eyes back to your face, he smiles in satisfaction.

With measured steps, cloak dragging across the grass. His eyes never leave yours as he rounds over a long table full of sweets and wine inside intricate glass pitchers.

Was that always there?

Sitting down at the head of the table, a tall chair made of marble with moss and engraved spiders decorating it. The large weeping willow looms over the entire table, providing shade from the mysterious sunlight. He gestures for you to sit right next to him. Your knuckles tighten as you fight with yourself.

Will you oblige?

Better judgment wins this round, you gawp at him like an animal cornered by a hunter. Afraid that if you lift your gaze from him for a second, he'll appear right in front of you and devour you whole.

"Who are you?" Your question echoes in the glade, you feel a blade of grass kiss your leg.

"Y'know I could ask you that myself, you're the one who barged in, hm?" He leans on the table, hand placed on his cheek nonchalantly. "May I have your name?" The sentence whispers right into your ears.

A trick, You purse your lips from forming your name.

He clicks his tongue after a beat of your silence. "Fuckin' hell, you're not very good at talking, huh?" His words are weirdly human, sounding like someone you would have encountered anywhere.

"I'm not giving you my name" knitting your eyebrows together, you briefly flick your eyes over to a dilapidated arch in the far right corner. You're sure that's the exit from this dreamscape.

Smiling, webs form around his arm right in front of your eyes. Nails as dark as death and sharp as a knife scratches at his cheek.

You've had enough of his charade, you lunge at the arch, running as fast as you can. Barely making it, your body stands still right in front of it.

"What–?" Your feet feels like it's stuck in a rat trap, unable to keep running. Looking down with a gasp, you see sticky webs cling to your jeans, tightening around your ankle, threatening to cut off blood flow.

"Not what you think it is, love. Trust me you're better off here" he moves his legs over to the arm rest, his back lounging over to the other. His hand absentmindedly stirring at the tea cup on his lap.

You yelp when a web pinches your skin. "You can't keep me here" bravery helps enunciate your words.

"'m not tryin' to, you're free to go. Didn't invite you in, remember? A bit rude of you, innit?" He drinks loudly from his cup, watching your face contort from pain into anger.

"Give me your name and I'll tell you mine" you seethe.

He laughs loudly, a booming sound like thunder clapping. "Shit, you've got some cobblers on you, tell you what." He sits up, throwing the delicate tea cup over his shoulder, it bounces right on the grass with a thud. "I'll say mine, just because I like anger on you better than fear" he winks, tilting his head, placing his hand over his chest.

"Got a lot of names but I prefer Hobie the best." He points with his long finger at you still stuck on the ground. "Now, your turn"

"Release me first," you say through gritted teeth. "Hobie"

He exhales at the sound of your voice uttering his name, lashes fluttering close for a split second. "'m not the one doin' that, placed that there just in case people like you decide to run into that entrance. Just like I said before, not good for either of us"

Hobie waves his hand, and just like that, the webs dissolve at your feet, releasing you. He waits with a tap of his nails over the wooden table.

"My name's–" you stop yourself, what will happen if you actually tell him your name? Will you get stuck here? Breathing heavy, you spot clovers growing on the foot of his chair. You've got a better chance with a lie.

"Clover, name's Clover"

"Well, clever Clover." He stands up to his full height, all seven feet of him. A large spider crawls over his chest. Alarm bells start ringing in your head. "What are you doin' here?"

Slowly craning your neck up to meet his eyes, you stop breathing while his stare bores a hole right through you, like a God looking down at his acolyte.

"I'm looking for a dog" you say in a small voice, toes clenching inside your trainers. Previous bravery gone.

"You're not gonna find her here" tilting his head, he picks up a stray leaf that fell right on your shoulder. Hobie twirls it in-between his fingers, noticing your slightly shaking form. "Are you afraid?"

Your neck aches, muscles shaking under your head. "No"

A half lie in itself, you're afraid of the uncertainty, not of the being before you. There's a strange familiarity between you, something you can't quite name.

"That's the difference between you and me, I can't lie." Grumbling, he crushes the leaf in his hand. "Trust me, dog's not here" Hobie brushes his knuckles over to the smooth skin of your cheek.

You flinch back but you stand your ground. "Did you take her?"

"What would I do with that dog?" Narrowed eyes, he chuckles darkly.

Still toe to toe with the otherworldly being, you even out your breathing, "Where is she then?"

Hobie shrugs, "dunno" he turns around, making his way back to his seat. "Why don't you sit down and have a cup with me?" Tempting, the sweet fragrant smell of grapes beckons you over.

You scoff, ignoring the temptation. "No, I'm leaving" you walk towards the arch again.

Lighting fast, Hobie takes you by your arm, wind rushes past you with how quick he moved.

"Don't. Do. That." His voice booms like a gong signaling your own death. There's a storm raging behind his eyes. Yet your body and soul flutters in his hold.

He steals your breath, eyes angrily looking behind you, at the dilapidated arch, the most normal thing in the entire glade. The wind whispers past your ears, listen, girl.

Guiding you away, his hold on you tender yet stifling. Hobie sits you down on one of the chairs whilst you watch him closely, looking for a sign that he might start attacking you with his claws. Instead of striking you down while he has you in his grip, he folds his knee, kneeling before you. Cloak pooling around his feet, drowning in green. Now leveled with your gaze, Hobie's eyes soften, releasing his touch over you.

"Don't go over there, that's not the way out" his voice soft, concerned and full of fondness. Without a second thought, he takes your hands, cupping each one in his large ones, avoiding his sharp nails from scraping your palms. Weirdly enough, you let him.

The ache in them wanes for only a moment.

Your heart pounds under your ribcage. "I need to get out of here" leaning over, you stare deeply into his eyes, pleading. Perfect eyes swirl into brilliant brown, liquid gold mixing within the pools.

As if waking from a trance himself, Hobie lets your hands go quietly, only lingering over to your fingertips for a brief second. You feel the history under his calloused fingers. He stands up, looming over you once again. Gold glimmering in his sockets, mouth agape. Face full of hidden loneliness.

Wordlessly, he puts both his hands over to the chair's armrest, your breaths mixing together in harmony. Then he pushes the chair over, and like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, you fall.

Darkness once again envelopes you.

Back hitting the moist grass, you sit up by your elbows. The sun slowly setting, the heavens above cries as large droplets of rain fall harshly on your skin.

Gasping, you return to reality. "What the fuck?" Your voice merely a whisper against the loud pelting. Eyes fighting to stay open whilst water spray on your face, you find yourself back on the edges of the woods.

A thick mist covering it all, hiding behind the curtains as it draws back down over the woods.

Not a single tree or blade of grass can be seen from the outside. You only hope Nellie's alright inside.

Standing up from the wet soil, you groan, trying to get your foot out of the mud. You take a deep breath, hands shaking from what transpired. His face stamped permanently in your brain like a song you can't get rid of, repeating over and over again.

—

The rain knocks roughly against the windows, fogging up the glass as you sit on the alcove. A stark difference from the marble chair you were on just a few hours ago. The warm cup tethers you back to reality, scalding hot on your bandaged hands.

Watching over the woods, your brows knit together, trying to recall what just happened to you. It seems like you've found yourself in a folk story, a story where parents tell their children so they stay away from the dark woods. Either that or the isolation is getting to your head already. But you doubt it, you've always been alone, so called friends ignoring you once they get what they've wanted from you. Exes leave you high and dry just before anything could get serious enough. It's safe to say you're used to being alone, used to your voice being unused for months on end. But you can't help feeling like life has passed you by.

That's why you took this job, because you're naturally a solitary person; even though you don't admit that it gets lonely sometimes and the silence at the end of the day makes you weep for the life unlived. It gets worse with every passing birthday you've celebrated alone in your home, there's a longing, a hole in your heart that you can't find anything to fill it with. You thought this job would be it, if people can't provide it, why not a change in career, right? You thought if you did a good enough job, Mr. O'hara would hire you permanently. Well, that's down the drain until you find his dog, wherever Nellie is right now.

Once the rain stops and the ground solidifies, you'll make your way back to the edge of the woods to try and get her back home. Until then, you'll sleep and rest. She's just fine, she probably knows the woods better than anyone.

As the night drags on, your eyes grow heavy, back sliding down on the cushion to sleep. Folded in half, you succumb to the sandman's call. Drifting, you hear fabric moving behind you.

"Hi"

You flinch back from the whisper in your ear, their breath tickling the shell of it. Yelling in surprise as you glimpse someone running outside your room, blue cloth whizzes past the hallway in a flurry. Feet skittering, a giggle making your heart skip a beat in fear.

"H-hey! You're not supposed to be in here!" Your socked feet hit the icy floors, cold seeping inside the fluffy material. Running after the culprit, you almost slip and fall over the handrail, vertigo almost making you sick as you look over the first floor. Your head turns towards the sound of thudding feet on the spiral stairs.

Following the sound from above, you spot the intruder standing on the stair landing. Dark curls in a neat ponytail, staring blankly ahead.

Your breath hitches in your throat as she looks up. Her smile marred by blood coagulating inside her mouth, empty eye sockets gazing up. Gasping, you fall to your knees, hiding yourself from her petrifying gaze. The wood scratches at your already injured hands, blood seeping out from the gauze.

She giggles again, running out of the house, she yells excitedly, "come find me!"

Your palms turn clammy, goosebumps erupt over the once smooth skin. Her small voice echoing in your mind like a siren calling you over. Despite better judgment, you stand up from your position, running after her in an attempt to stop the incessant ringing in your ears.

Busting the doors wide open, wild wind enters the abode, pushing you back inside. Your eyes sting, fighting the stabbing air with your arm protecting your face.

With a blink she appears right in the middle of the open field, the tall grass dancing at her feet. Nonexistent eyes watching you. Different voices call out to you in whispers. Both warnings and temptations.

"Run away" "Please help" "Come here" "Enter" "don't take her!" "beware" "Be wary, be wary, be wary, be wary" "My baby!" "Where is he?" "Don't be like her" "Listen to the wind, girl" "over and over and over" "tis not a place for you" "Punished" "Worse things" "turn around" "let me in!"

"I'm right here"

They overlap with each other, screaming louder whilst you fight off nature. The girl raises her arms for you, veins blue, thorns protruding out of her skin, ichor once again drips down on the grass, staining the entire field. A sea of blood red sways wildly in the gust of wind.

Your feet are swallowed by mud, hindering you from reaching the girl. You continue on, treading through the muck. You have no idea why but your mind is telling you she begs for your help, and only you could provide it.

Struggling, legs aching, the thick sludge slowly swallowing your bottom half, now rising up to your thighs, it's cold and prickly on your skin.

"Hang on!" You scream through the noise. The pained howls of the dead get louder and louder as you try to reach her. The mud now up to your chest, crushing your lungs. "Almost there!"

Your fingertips graze her palms, sighing in relief, the soil now clinging to you like second skin. "I've got you!"

Just before you take a hold of her, she suddenly gets flinged back towards the woods, into the dark void while you listen to her screams.

"No!" Your cry is muffled by dirt choking you, tongue tasting the bitterness, iron filling your lungs. The ground devours you whole, shouts silenced. Your hand only remains over the soil that has hardened. Burying you alive, suffocating, fingers stiff, twitching for a minute before you join the dead.

You wake up gasping for air. Body almost falling off the alcove. Coughing, you can still taste the earth on your tongue.

On wobbly legs, vision tilting, heart pounding, you run towards the bathroom, your hip landing painfully on the door. You're sure it'll bruise.

You don't even bother turning the lights on, feeling for the sink, hand sliding along the cold walls, memory guiding you towards it, you don't waste time opening it when the cool metal hits your bandaged palms.

You guzzle water directly from the faucet, trying to get the disgusting taste out of your mouth. Coughing violently, you finally get rid of the lingering taste with a final spit. Splashing cold water on your sweaty face, the warm water sticking to your lashes, you blink awake.

"Fuck" you watch the water swirl around the drain inside the basin. Evening out your breathing, you look in the mirror.

Instead of pristine tiles, the woods appear behind you, with every blink, glowing eyes materialize, staring relentlessly at you in between trees. Something else watches you, an ominous presence hiding amongst the benevolent ones. A shadow reaches out, clawed hand encircling your neck.

With a quick movement, you flip the light switch open. You're back inside the opulent bathroom, body shaking in fear.

"Not real, not real" you tell yourself whilst blinking back tears. "Not real"

—

Your hand tightens around Nellie's food bowl filled with dog food, it's been a full day since you went outside, too anxious to even look out the window. Yet you stand on the large porch, staring daggers at the soil. Your dream still frightens you, seemed too real for your brain to just come up with it. You can still feel the sludge choking you and the girl's bloodstained hands calling you over.

With an uneasy step, you stand on the moist ground. Sniffing from the cold, you shake the bowl, calling out to Nellie. Roaming around the estate, careful not to go over the edge of the woods this time, you find yourself standing outside the family mausoleum. The large concrete doors wide open, inviting you in.

The single skylight allows sunlight to filter through, highlighting the farthest center tomb, its engraving almost illegible from the wear and tear of time. A carved rose lay on top of the marble, its stem snapped right in the middle. Twin inverted torches sit on either side, guarding the person in their eternal rest.

You can't look away, the headstone seems to get closer and closer to you the longer you observe.

"Fuck no" backing away, you shake your head. "Nellie! Come girl before I lose my goddamn mind!" Your voice is carried by the wind.

You have an urge to go to your car and drive home, alas you've signed a contract, leaving now will definitely get you sued.

The sun slowly sets in the horizon, still no sign of the border collie. The cold freezes your bones, breath creating clouds with every yell of Nellie's name. You sit on the steps of the porch, dejected, huffing while shaking Nellie's blue bowl.

"I'll never find that dog like this" going back inside, fighting a sneeze creeping up your nose. You drop her bowl haphazardly on the floor, tin clanking on the floor, spilling dog food.

The metal necklace lay untouched on the counter, you have an idea but you don't like it one bit.

With a shaky breath, swallowing your fear, you take the necklace, closing the clasp around your neck. "I'm stupid and I'm gonna die" opening the fridge, you take a carton of milk and a jar of honey. "Can't fucking believe I'm doing this. This is stupid and I'm talking to myself."

Even with your mind full of apprehension, you find yourself outside, feet tethering off the edge of the woods. Armed with a torch, spool of thread and a bag full of milk and honey, you venture forth into the growing dark.

"Nellie!" Frustrated, you yell.

The light from your torch searches the ground for any signs of Nellie. Eyes flitting back and forth from the ground to the tree where you've tied a red string to its low branches. You're not getting lost this time.

"Nellie–!" You suddenly get flinged back, landing hard on the grass. Hobie looks down at you with a look you can't decipher. "Oh shit"

"You shouldn't scream in the woods, love. Something else might find you first"

"Like you?" You aim your frustration at him, regretting it almost immediately.

"Good thing I was first then, hm? There are worse things in these woods than me." With a helping hand, he reaches down for you. "Well?"

With a grunt, you hold his hand, not missing the familiarity of his skin against yours. Your heart beats loudly at the contact. Tugging you up effortlessly, his hand lingers for a second as if savouring the connection.

"I need your help," noticing his smaller stature, still taller but more human than before, you don't mention it. "Please"

"Blunt as always" turning his back, he saunters over back to his chair. You spot daisies stitched on his cloak, noticeably not a part of the original design.

"Can you help me find her, please. I'm worried"

"Worried about her or worried that you'll get in trouble for losing her" he raises an eyebrow.

"Both, she's a good dog, she doesn't deserve to get lost in these woods. And not losing my job helps too" you bravely take a step forward, the edge of the long table bumps your bruise.

"She's not the one who's lost" Hobie stares at you intensely, you stand on opposite sides of the table, watching eachother, learning and acquainting with every twitch of muscle and exhale.

Hastily taking out your offerings, the carton of milk sloshing as you place it on the table, the jar of honey banging loudly on the wood.

"Will this be enough?"

You jump back ever so slightly when he laughs loudly. A thunder strike sounded out. Slapping his knee, doubling over in his chair.

"What?" Hobie wipes a tear, chuckling through his words. "Milk and honey, really? Where'd you learn that?"

"Stories" you stand confused, finger playing with your bandages.

"From what? The thirteenth century?"

"Maybe" you say in a small voice, humiliated by the otherworldly being laughing at your face. Mumbling out quietly, "you probably don't even know what year it is"

"Tell you what," Hobie leans forward on the table, arms crossed over the other, lips curled into a smile. "I'll help you, for a price of course"

"If you want my first born you'll be waiting for awhile"

"Not that" he shakes his head.

The anticipation thrills you, ears waiting for what he asks.

"Just a thank you from you is all I need"

You blink in surprise, a second after that, realization hits you. "Oh" you're already thinking of a way to deceive the deceiver.

"Deal?" Hobie tilts his head, waiting for your answer.

"Only if she comes back home" you lay the condition. "Alive and well"

"'course and she will" he sits up comfortably.

"Deal"

He hums in satisfaction, "Sleep and old Nellie will be back" with those words, Hobie waves his hand, taking you back on the estate grounds.

Landing on your chest, the ground greets you once again. You groan out in annoyance. "Will you stop doing that?!"

You swear the wind laughs at you.

—

You wake up with slobber all over your face. Nellie standing on your bed, tail wagging happily once your eyes open.

"Nellie! Holy shit!" You hug her neck, nuzzling her wet fur. "Oh you're so dirty! Where have you been, old girl?" Petting her, she barks in reply.

"Yeah? You okay?" You scan her for injuries, finding none, relief finally washes over you. "Guess I have to thank him now, huh?"

Nellie sticks out her tongue, tilting her head in question.

"You hungry? Come on!" You and Nellie race each other downstairs.

—

"Hobie? I'm here to hold up my end" you wander the woods, fingers looped around the thread. "Hello?"

You hear shambling in the distance, chains rattling, rotting flesh fills your nostrils.

"Augh" covering your nose with your jumper sleeve, you continue calling out for Hobie.

Long arms appear behind you, enveloping your entire body. Your scream gets cut off with his large hand over your mouth, nails digging into your skin, leaving indents.

You're back in his abode, eyes looking up at his furious glare towards the pained moans. His arm protectively around your waist, you can feel his tensed body behind you; the spider on his cloak gazes down upon you, legs twitching at the sight of you.

The sounds finally fade after a moment, Hobie takes his hand away from your lips, turning you to face him, you find an angry slash on his chest with an identical one on his palm.

Without thinking once again, you take his injured hand. "What happened?"

"Necklace, don't mind that." He takes his hand back to his side. "Didn't I tell you to stop yelling in the woods?"

You ignore his question "What was that?"

"Something worse than me" he brushes his knuckles over the indentations he left on your skin. "You came back" you don't flinch away.

"We had a deal. I'm here to hold my end"

"Everything comes back here eventually" his eyes glazed over, Hobie fixes your collar, fingers grazing on your neck, he doesn't mind the sting from the metal. He comes back to his usual self, taking a precise step back. "What do we say then?"

"I-" his eyes shine knowingly. "I appreciate the help, Hobie"

Chuckling, he shakes his head. "Clever as ever" you dance around each other like a well choreographed waltz.

"I am, aren't I?" You smile at your own ingenuity.

"You are." He copies your smile, hiding sadness behind it all. "Go home, Clover"

There's a sick longing in you. Biting and gnawing your insides, you have no idea if it's him doing this to you or there's something else making you feel this way.

"Will I see you again?" You blurt out, surprising yourself.

"Can't stop you, do what you want" Hobie once again turns his back to you. “You do know what I am, right?”

“Yes, you're an elf right?” you joke, earning a deep chuckle from him. Beaming at Hobie, satisfied with his reaction, you clear your throat. "Alright" you bid goodbye.

He looks over his shoulder, "Call my name in the woods and I'll send you back here" your heart soars at his comment. "Just don't yell it next time, not in that context anyway"

Hobie snaps his fingers just before you could reply back a quip. You land more softly this time. Eyes bright, looking up at the orange sky with a fond smile.

—

Once the dishes are cleaned, Nellie is fed and asleep, all surfaces dusted, doors locked, you lay on the soft bed, mind still reeling from the past events. The canopy swirls in your tired vision, making your eyes slowly shut close to slumber.

You dream of him that night, vision warbling, noises muffled like you're underwater. He looks at you with a youthful smile, head tilted, waiting, dying for you to answer back. Hobie looks almost the same, yet his eyes sparkle with anticipation, no longing underneath.

The air is warm and comfortable like a welcome embrace from a loved one, none of the biting cold that you're used to. Carnations and poppies dance without a care in the world.

Instead of the growing familiarity of the glade, you stand on a hill in the middle of the woods with him leaning on a large oak. Your long cotton skirt brushing along your legs, fingers clutching on the puff of your long sleeves, corset tight on your ribcage, his face stealing what little breath you have.

"I asked you, it is rude not to answer"

Your mouth moves on it's own, "My name is–"

A/N: sorry this update took so long 😔 ms rona was kicking my ass. Thank you for reading!

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