Send you rarepairs for doodles? [Looks through my folder of ships]
Gotta ask for my favorite boys, Martyn/Ren/Skizz! Ive been obsessed with them basically all year, i need to write them more often........ I literally cannot have treebark on their own anymore, thats how deep the brainrot runs fhskbfkshd
(Ship name Red Court, btw. Coined by yours truly)
there are Beautiful Men in my bed
i looked at ur acc for inspo when u sent this ask btw and your fics are SO GOOD???????? so i had to draw the Scene from chapter 3 of shk lol.
i love their dynamic........ the king, the hand, and their soldier. fucking peak
this one is also for the anon who requested treebark. tho i may just draw them again for the hell of it
you know exactly who im gonna ask for.......... i gotta ask you to write my guys (red court) pls and thank
as for number............ 37 pls?
My condolences Prism this is my Let's Hurt The Character song. The premise of this fic is that Watchers feed on pain and will kidnap their favourite players when they're feeling a bit peckish.
Hoisting himself awkwardly into an upright position, Martyn lifted his shirt to reveal the bloom of bruises. Ren whimpered as he studied it, and Skizz hissed through his teeth.
“It’s okay,” said Martyn weakly. “Just one, this time.”
“That’s not…” Ren’s ears flattened. He swallowed hard, as if fighting down revulsion. “That’s not okay. None of this is okay.”
Full ficlet under cut (CW: broken bone)
Bleed Until We're Even
Every time Martyn coughed, his rib jutted closer to his skin.
Snapped clean in two, one end horribly untethered. With a hand clasped over his chest, he could feel how the bone protruded.
Only one rib, this time. It could be worse; it could always be worse, in the empty void with its dozens of violet eyes. Snapping a rib from inside his chest was not the worst the Watchers could do. They could always be crueler; hungrier.
Violet light dissolved into the edges of his vision. It was afternoon, and the sunlight through the canopy cast a dappled mosaic over him. It’s over, he told himself, clamping down his jaw to suppress another cough. You’re home again. He forced himself to inhale slowly, trying to anchor himself to the thought and not the pain bursting through his ribs.
“There he is!” A voice rang through the trees. Martyn’s head snapped up, just in time to spot two figures crashing through the foliage. At the lead was Ren, gaze sharp with worry, tail whipping in the air. Just behind him, Skizz was disentangling one of his wings from a briar. When they took in Martyn’s state, their eyes filled with fear.
Ren reached him first, kneeling down beside him and wrapping his arms around him. He was uncharacteristically gentle; used to finding Martyn in various breakable states. On his other side, Skizz knelt down and gathered them both in his wings. Soft white feathers enveloped Martyn’s view, soothing even the ache in his chest for a moment. If he closed his eyes, he imagined he could hear their heartbeats.
Skizz pulled away, even though Martyn didn’t want him to. “What did they do this time?” he asked, in a voice he seemed to be fighting to keep level.
Hoisting himself awkwardly into an upright position, Martyn lifted his shirt to reveal the bloom of bruises and the rib jutting under his skin. Ren whimpered as he studied it, and Skizz hissed through his teeth.
“It’s okay,” said Martyn weakly. “Just one, this time.”
“That’s not…” Ren’s ears flattened. He swallowed hard, as if fighting down revulsion. “That’s not okay. None of this is okay.” Feathers rustled beside him as Skizz brushed a wing against his back. Ren blinked sharply, before turning and burying his face in his shoulder.
Martyn turned to Skizz with hopeful eyes. He’d always managed to keep Ren calm when things got like this.
But Skizz wasn’t wearing his usual reassuring smile. His brow was furrowed tightly as he finished pulling Martyn’s hand through the jacket sleeve. “He’s right, you know. This can’t keep happening.”
Martyn studied his hands, frustration lashing through him. It can, and it will. Because if it’s not me, they’ll take someone else, and it could be one of you two. It was exactly the kind of twisted thing they'd love to enact and feed on.
