That Moment When Your Vampire Sibling From Another Universe Is Actually Epic

Seafoam on the shore

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Tags: Use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW drinking, CW food mentions, TW injury.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 1 >>> CHAPTER 2

You run as fast as you can, your feet flying off the muddy uneven streets. Huffing while a local copper yells at you to stop, his yells get more exhausted every second he chases after you. So far he isn't even near you, one of the few benefits of staying at a provincial fishing town is that the police are either too out of shape to catch you, their bellies round, definitely full of ale. Or they simply don't give a damn about a pickpocket, muttering to themselves how they're not paid enough to do a city cop's job.

Losing your balance, you silently curse at your worn down work boots. Sliding off the ground, skidding off down the streets, disturbing the hustle and bustle of the market. You hit a vegetable cart along the way, wood splintering, scratching your arms. Cabbages and carrots fly off, there's yelling and screaming around you and your legs are aching from the impact.

“Sorry!” You yell back to a disgruntled vendor.

He curses at you and your entire family for ruining his sale. You take a mental note to pay him back somehow when you're not currently occupied.

Digging your heels in, you come to a halt, you're lucky enough to get a hold on a lamp post. Glancing behind, you don't see the cop running after you but you're not taking any chances so you enter a tight alleyway. You know this village like the back of your hand, you have to or else seeing the inside of the jail would be waiting for you in the future.

Knowing there’s a pipe somewhere along the walls, you run your muddy hands along the bricks, the cramp walls touching your back and chest, you stop when your nail hits something metallic.

Your ears perk up at someone snitching, “fuck” without hesitation, you climb up the rusty pipe.

Hands digging into the metal. It creaks and groans, but it seems like lady luck is on your side when you reach the top with no problems.

Hearing hurried footsteps down below, you immediately lie low on the roof. Hiding yourself from his gaze. The cop glances around the alley, scratching his head, confused as to how you escaped without a trace.

“Damn” he mutters, completely winded.

You smile to yourself as he leaves. The sun bares at your back, cotton blouse sticking to your skin. Needing a bath is an understatement.

Standing up, you carefully tread the roof, avoiding floors that look damaged. You definitely don't want a repeat incident of what happened six villages ago. You can never get used to the view from up high, the sea blends in with the orange sky, melting together, blues, greens and reds mingle in harmony. The setting sun paints a picturesque scenery, draping everything it touches in its heavenly light.

Ships and fishing boats float above the waves as if they're dancing to the sound of the water splashing on its wooden sides.

Your hands instinctively reach for the necklace hidden under your blouse. Fingers tracing the etching of a flying bird that you know like the back of your hand.

Despite the open sea, you can't help but feel trapped. The docks beckon you over to somewhere you can't remember, somewhere where you can rest in peace, somewhere across the deep dark treacherous sea are people you can call your home. People who may have been looking for you all this time. Their faces are but a blur in your mind, voices a mere echo lingering in your heart. The pendant leaves a circular indent on your palms as you grip it tight.

Is it possible to miss someone you don't even remember?

Your train of thought gets interrupted by movement from a ship floating along the dock, a large sailboat whose wood differs from each one of its structures. You can tell from how some of it is painted gold and silver like the ones on royal ships, it looks like it was hastily hammered into regular oak with intricate carvings. Some wood blends better together, dark timber melding with ashen wood. Three cannons are lined on the sides, its metal having seen better days, no longer glimmering in the sunlight.

From where you're standing, the figurehead on the bow looks peculiar, like nothing you've ever seen traveling along coastal towns. A fierce creature with sharp teeth opening its jaws, eyes wide and alert. Its red scaly skin adds to its terrifying image. What's more peculiar is the lack of flag flying on its mast. An unknown ship from an unknown place tickles your curiosity.

You slink back down on the roof when a woman emerges from below deck, her blond hair shining under the sun. Another much taller one follows behind her. Raven colored hair flowing in the soft wind. They seem to be arguing, but you're completely bewildered as to how they're allowed to sail. All this time, you can't believe that you can actually step foot inside a boat, moreso sail on it.

This changes everything, you suppose.

You leave the roof, letting the women argue amongst themselves. Expertly hopping from awning to canopy, you land at your final destination, the White Salmon pub.

Jumping down, you land on a cart full of broken fishing nets, it's a miracle that you weren't tangled under all the mess.

Entering the rowdy pub, the smell of ale and pickled fish enters your nostrils. A bunch of sailors sing off key in the middle, too drunk to care about the ruckus they're making. You try to blend in with the drunk crowd, hiding behind people, weaving around them to sneak past the bar and upto the stairs leading up to your room.

“Oi! did ya think I wouldn't notice ya?”

You stop just about the foot of the stairs. Groaning in exasperation, quickly taking off the bandana tied around your face to conceal half of your face. You try your best to put your best smile, turning your charm up to a hundred.

“Hi, aunty Janet” you walk towards her like a child caught with their hands inside the cookie jar. “I got the butter you asked”

Janet huffs, eyes narrowed, her brows furrowed. You place the stick of butter in front of her like an offering to appease an angry God.

“Please don't tell me the coppers will be knocking on my doors again”

“That was one time! Besides I actually paid for this one” you push the butter towards her with your finger. She stares at it like you're giving her contraband.

You give her one charming smile, she sighs, taking the butter from the counter. “You're on thin ice, Y/N. Don't make me regret taking you in.”

“That was a year ago and look, I'm still here!”

“A year and a half, I counted because with every shit ya manage to pull, a strand of my hair turns white.” she points at her hair that's almost completely white. “This used to be black”

“I know, I'm sorry. I just need to–”

“To what? It always seems like you're hiding shit from me and Thena” She tries to hold your hand on the counter but you flinch away.

“Won't happen again, I promise.” A clear lie on your part, you'll just have to be better at sneaking. You vault over the counter to roll up your sleeves, clean yourself up and put on your apron.

“When will you learn, girl?”

“When the king sentences me to death himself!” grabbing an empty tray, you start clearing a nearby table. Janet pinches the bridge of her nose.

After dodging rowdy customers and a flying pint, Thena takes a break with you in the tiny corner of the tavern. She unabashedly sighs loudly, smelling of ale and lavender she hastily rubbed on to mask the scent of alcohol.

You side eye her with a tired smile, Thena sighs again, louder this time, a few patrons gaze your way.

“Alright, what's wrong?”

“Oh nothin' it's just Arthur's back again and he hasn't even glanced my way”

You flick your eyes towards the blonde patron nursing a pint, his green eyes meet yours, he smiles with his yellow teeth and you look away immediately, not from embarrassment, no, but from how you don't want his eyes on you.

Why in the world is Thena so smitten by someone like Arthur who comes and goes into the pub more than he goes inside a bathroom?

“You could do better, Thena. One that actually brings in coins instead of using them all in the pub or a brothel.”

“I know,” she sighs once again. Leaning closer to your side so you slide further away. “But he's the fittest bloke here though” whining, she puffs out her cheeks.

As if some divine comedy, Arthur beckons you over with a twist of his hand. You internally cringe.

Thena gasps, “I think he's finally taking notice of me!” She stands up, sauntering over to his table with the confidence of a newborn deer.

Before you could rescue her though, Janet yells at you from the other side of the room. “Get back to work, Y/N!” She signals with head, pointing towards a table by the corner.

You groan, lumbering your way towards the customers. His large back is turned away from you, brown hair neatly slicked back, clothes looking too neat and expensive for a dingy pub like the white salmon. His companion thumps her head on the wall lightly like she's trying to get water out of her ears. Her hair is cut short, glasses over her almond shaped eyes, clothes equally looking expensive but less neat than her large companion.

Her lips turn upwards once she sees you. “Finally some service” she stretches her legs out, noting how she's wearing trousers instead of the usual frilly skirts rich women wear.

“Sorry, what can I do for you?” You put on your customer service voice that's laced with mild annoyance. The man sits still like a rock, his back still turned away from you.

“Fish and chips, some pickled eggs and a pint.” She glances at her friend before groaning with a sly smirk. “And he'll have plain porridge, no seasoning, just porridge. It's better if it's days old. Right, Miguel?”

The man huffs, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. The single candle light on the table illuminates his chiseled face, turning his eyes crimson.

“A pint will do” his voice is gruff yet calm.

There's alarm bells ringing in your head, the tray falls from your shaking hands. Your heart thumps louder than the clanking metal.

“Careful there, it's bad to drink on the job” His friend’s comment falls on deaf ears as you stare at the man before you. His expression doesn't change except for how his eyebrows lift slightly.

It's been years, surely he doesn't recognize me as an adult, right?

You clear your throat, mustering the best smile you can do. “Sorry about that, I'll get your orders right away” leaning down to take the tray from the sticky floors, your necklace slips out of your blouse, the gold shimmering in the candle light.

He could burn you with just his stare.

Walking briskly, clutching the tray, its metal is uncomfortably cold on your skin. The pub seems to get louder and louder with every footstep, the laughter and rowdy singing makes you dizzy. Janet calls after you as you run up the stairs to your room.

Thinking fast, you lock the door, pushing your dresser to further lock it. Your mind races to the floorboards beneath your threadbare bed. With your bare hands you hastily take the wood out revealing a hollow hole containing your possessions.

There's loud booming footsteps climbing up the stairs. Followed by his voice calling your name.

“Fuck” without thinking, you take the bag from its hiding place, slinging it over your shoulder before you cross the small space to the window.

“Y/N, Please!” He keeps calling after you. “Let me just,” thump, “fuck!”

That's your signal to jump down.

Landing on your heels, you feel your knees aching from the fall. You hear your bedroom door slam open with a force that surely broke its hinges.

You run like you've ran from him like last time.

Suddenly, you're thirteen years old, weaving through the forest, vines prickling your legs as you wade through the thicket. White lilies are but a blur as tears flow freely from your eyes as you keep running without a destination.

Why? Aren't you enough? Did she not love you like you thought she did? What did you do to deserve being abandoned twice?

You're back to the present when he yells your name again. Your heart pounds loudly on your ribcage, lungs burning, you feel like you're about to collapse.

His companion also runs after you, screaming your name desperately.

But you have the upperhand. Using the moon as your guide, you climb up a house, its bricks protruding out of the walls, the place you used to climb to practice, but now you climb it to save your own skin.

Running from roof to roof, you feel a presence behind you. His thunderous footsteps echo into the cold night. You don't dare look behind.

The woman follows you from the ground, her heels clicking on the uneven sidewalk. “Y/N! Wait up–shit!” Without looking down, you hear her fall.

He screams your name again, the same one she called you back then.

You run furiously, jumping off the side only to keep running towards the docks. Panicking, you see a ship leaving the docks, its fishing net left hanging on the side. Without thinking, you make a break for it.

Sprinting on the old docks, you leap the huge gap. Miraculously, you take hold of the net, clinging to it with all your might. Entering the net, you ignore the smell of fish, watching as the place you once called home gets smaller and smaller.

You say goodbye to Janet, who kindly took you in without asking for anything in return. Who gave you a job and a room so you don't freeze and starve outside. Who took care of you when you fell ill to the cold.

You say goodbye to Thena, the only friend you've ever had, the longest friend you've ever had. The same Thena who taught you how to sew and mend your own clothes. Thena who taught you how to throw a punch when a handsy sailor tries to touch you.

Thena whom you've grown accustomed to calling you her sister.

You say goodbye to the fishing town you've only recently called your home.

You say goodbye to the man at the docks who's staring at your fleeing form, whose eyes are narrowed, almost pleading for you to come back.

A/N: There's no Hobie appearance in this chapter yet :( (next chapter though 👀)

Hope you like it, thank you for reading!

I MADE A WINKING VERSION

hello author! i hope ur doing good! i would like to request a scenario wherein the dad!lads are leaving for work but their little ones don’t want them to go while clutching onto their legs. how would each of them react in that situation? i need more domestic dad! lads huhuhu thank u <3

Papa Don't Go!- The Love And DeepSpace Men

featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb genre: fluff fluff summary: their child(ren) cling onto their leg before they go to work a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i hope you're doing good to luv! no rafayel's were harmed in the writing process of this (°ロ°) i hope you this was alright and that you enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

The front door creaks open with a groan, making it echo through the quiet house. The noise was enough to stir your son from his peaceful nap. His little eyelids fluttered open, still heavy with so much sleep as he rubbed them with his chubby little fists. He thinks he must’ve slept for a while, and hearing the door open, that means Papa Xavier must be heading to work!

With the tiniest yawn, he carefully slipped out of the low bed, his small feet barely making a sound as they padded softly across the floor. Still half asleep, he staggered toward the door, sleepily shuffling as he wandered out of the room.

The creaky front door creaks loudly as it swings open, echoing through the quiet house. The noise stirred your son from his nap, his little eyelids fluttered open, still heavy with so much sleep as he rubbed them with his small, chubby fists.

Sleepily, your son pads across the floor, his tiny feet making soft thuds as he reaches Xavier’s side. He tugs at the hem of Xavier’s pants, “Papa stay?” He asked with a sleepy smile.

Xavier’s heart melted at the sight. He crouched down to meet his son’s gaze, brushing his large hand gently through his soft, disheveled hair. “I wish I could..But I have to go. You can stay with mommy, okay? Let’s get you back to mom-” Before he can even finish his sentence, he feels a tiny weight against his leg, his son’s arm wrapping around his calf. Xavier’s breath hitched as his son tried to tighten and he looked down to see his little boy with the most adorably pitiful pout.

“noo..stay with me and mama..” His voice muffled as he hid his face in his pants uniform.

Xavier froze for a moment, his chest tightening. He couldn’t help but smile through the lump that had formed in his throat. “I have to go, but it won’t take long. I promise.” He murmurs, leaning down to gently peel the boy off his leg, but pauses when he hears light snoring.

Xavier let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. Carefully, he scoops his son into his arms and carries him back to bed, where you were still sleeping peacefully. He tucks you both in, pressing a kiss to your forehead before finally turning back to the door.

Zayne:

Getting to work had become manageable to say so at the least. Zayne had mastered the art of slipping out of your iron grip each morning that was refined over time. But with a new addition to the family, mornings had grown a little more difficult. He’d started leaving an hour earlier just in case there were any tears that spilled and some clinging that he assumes that she gets from you.

However, nothing could have prepared him for this morning.

Just as he reached for the front door, tiny feet pads quickly toward him and tiny arms wrap tightly around his legs, keeping him frozen in place.

“papa, don’t go..” came a soft, sleepy whine. Her voice was muffled against his pant leg, her eyes were barely open, but surprisingly, her little hands grasped him tightly. He sighed, his chest tightening as he closed his eyes for a moment before kneeling to her level.

“My love,” he murmurs gently, brushing a few wild strands of hair from her face. “I have to go. It’s too early for you to be awake right now. You should be sleeping.” he tried to gently unwind her arms from his legs, but the moment he did, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him even tighter. The sudden squeeze made him let out a soft, surprised chuckle.

“Can I go with you?” she asked, her lower lip trembling. He smiles softly, shaking his head as he places a kiss on her forehead.

“I’m afraid you’re not on my shift today,” he said with a quiet laugh. “You’re scheduled to stay here and be with your mother.”

She clung to him, blinking up at him as she thinks for a moment. “Can you make sure to take care of her while I’m gone?”

She hesitates for a moment, then gives him a solemn little nod as if accepting a very important mission. He held her close for one last hug before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back to bed. He tucked her gently beside you.

Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her forehead, then yours. And with one last look, he slipped out the door, hoping the day would finish quickly.

Rafayel:

Rafayel crouches down, arms wide open as his kids run straight into them. He scoops them up into a group hug, squeezing them close as he presses soft kisses to the tops of their heads, letting out a heavy sigh after.

“I’m sorry my little guppies..papa has to go now.” His voice tinged with sadness.

He stood up slowly as if the act of physically parting from his family weighed him down, which it in fact did. Tonight, he was off to an exclusive art exhibition—one to which only artists and collectors were invited. He wished to bring you and the kids along, but Thomas had made it clear, no guests.

As he makes his way to the door, one of his kids jumped at him from behind while the other two rushed in from either side and wrapped themselves tightly around his legs.

“You-!”

“WAHHHH DON’T GO PAPAA,” one of them wails, their voice quivering. “Yeah! Don’t go!” Another joins, clinging even tighter to his pant leg.

Rafayel gasps, wobbling unsteadily. “Wait..my legs-!” He staggers, then drops dramatically to his knees, the child on his back now riding his shoulders. You watch from the back, already knowing where this is going. This isn’t the first time the kids have staged something like this to keep Rafayel home.

Raf groans again, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. “Oh no..I think I twisted something..my ankle..yeah, it’s definitely sprained..I can’t go to work now..”

The kids gasped. One let out a delighted, “YAYYY” clearly only hearing the part about him not going to work. The other frowns, eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay, papa?” She asks softly, patting his legs as if it were to make him feel better. “Does this help?”

He groans a little louder, but hides the corner of his mouth that’s curling into a smile. “I think..I think I should stay home with my guppies today. What do you guys think?”

Instantly, cheers erupted, and tiny arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. He was quickly buried under a pile of laughter and squeals, not caring how mad Thomas was going to be tonight.

Sylus:

“sweetie-”

“no.”

This had been going on for at least five minutes. Sylus had to hand it to her—his daughter was nothing if not persistent. She stood firm in what she thought was right while clinging stubbornly to his pant leg like it would hold him down.

If she kept this up for a while longer, Sylus would’ve started to accept the fact that his daughter might actually win this round. It was quite adorable that she thinks she’s able to stop him, and in a way, she kind of was. She was one of his soft spots, just like you. He was honestly impressed.

With a chuckle, he closed his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His little dove is just like her mother. “You really don’t want to make this easy for me, hm?”

She met his gaze and gave a fierce little adorable nod, her white pigtails bouncing. “Well, how about a deal? What’s it going to take for you to let go?”

“Stay.” She says softly, tilting her head. “Mommy and I will be sad if you go to work.” Her voice softened into a pout, eyes wide.

Sylus’s smile deepened, “Sweetie,” he said gently, “Mommy’s strong even when I’m not here. Do you think you can be strong like her? Just for a little while?”

She hesitates for a moment, lips twitching as she considers it. Slowly, her arms uncurl from his leg. “Okay, papa..” she murmurs, looking away, defeatedly. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

With a soft sigh, he cups her small cheeks with his large hands, thumb brushing over her skin. “Hey..Since you were so good..” He said teasingly, “How about I bring back something special for you?” Her eyes immediately lit up.

“And for mommy too?!” She bounced, clapping her little hands. Sylus richly laughs, pulling her into his arms to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Maybe that love she has for you is a part of him that she carries.

“Of course.”

Caleb:

Caleb chuckles when he feels the sudden grip of small arms wrap tightly around his legs. “Hey, c’mon, don’t make this harder for your old pops,” he says with a soft laugh, adjusting the brim of his colonel’s cap.

He bends slightly, reaching down to ruffle their hair, but both kids turn their faces into his legs, refusing to let go. A smile curls on his lips, his eyes fluttering closed for just a second. These are the moments that remind him that he’s done something right as a father.

“Alright, alright, you guys got me,” he says, playing along. “So..what’ll it take to get clearance for takeoff?”

The two exchange a glance as identical grins break across their faces. “Let’s do airplanes again, Dad!” his son shouts. “Yeah! Lift us up, daddy!” his daughter joins in.

Caleb lifts them both up into the air with ease. They squeal and giggle, their laughter echoing throughout the house as they soar around the living room. Caleb grins wide, watching them float, their fingertips grazing the ceiling.

“This is your captain speaking,” he announces in his nice pilot voice. “Captain Caleb is assisting two very important co-pilots on their path.” They glide and spin around the air until, with his careful guidance, they come in for a soft landing in your waiting arms.

“Wha-dad!” his son protests, attempting to be free from your arms, only to be gently held back by a gravitational nudge.

Caleb approaches, ruffling their hair before planting a kiss on each little forehead. “Alright, co-pilots,” he says, crouching to meet their eyes. “Your mission now is to stay on land with mom while I keep my eyes on the sky. Think you can handle that?” The children hesitate, then nod slowly.

He straightens, meeting your eyes. “I'll be home soon. I promise.” His hand lingers on your cheek as he gives you a long, lingering kiss.

From below, you both, two small voices groan in unison. “ewwww!” He chuckles against your lips, pulling back with a grin on his face. Even pilots need a little fuel before takeoff.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ beta read by @ilovemitsuya MWAH ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ )

ʚɞ 𝘕𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯:

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! The Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

ʚɞ Others places you can find me:

Wattpad

Twitter ( but idk how to use it or interact with people )

I think Caleb would be a bit overstimulated after making out for the first time with mc (lil comic that i made from that tiktok trend c:)

Jazzvalkyrie on twitter and I have intensely bonded over how truly old and specifically bonkers D is so here’s incriminating footage of him dunking a bagel in salsa booze

(please check out their stuff Jazz is amazing)   

He will save us in the end🗣️‼️

I'm obsessed with Sato 🫦

The phrase does not belong to Ultraman Rising, but at the end of the day, Ultraman is Ultraman... and it is too iconic

THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT ❤️

Sigh I need a 2nd movie now

I remade a meme I found on Twitter/X with Caleb and my MC, it was really funny :D (here the reference)

Hii, this is my first post i ever made here in tumblr so i hopes you like It ^^ @/snowyblanca on Twitter or insta for my other works c:

(here the reference) thank u 🩷

lads boys with pets

(Sylus cats are stray cats that he adopted from the 109 zo area)

El de Caleb todavía está en proceso, espero tenerlo pronto pero la universidad me está matando.