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xinxiaogato · 2 years ago

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— live to tell the tail

summary. you unfortunately lived in a universe where general gorou had found out ms. hina was… himself. and just your luck: gorou’s first impression of you was a crazed devotee of the ms. hina fan club, but you had only been in the wrong place at the wrong time. will you live to tell the tail?

love interests. gn!reader x a watatsumi general, an inazuman vagrant, the balladeer, and the kreideprinz.

warnings. infinite pet puns, referenced character death, weapons, swearing, blood, alcohol, harassment, and mentions of war.

word count. 2,252

chapter fourteen ⌇ the leash i can do

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you could still recall the bewilderment you felt from meeting the traveler for the first time that fateful day, and there had been so much you wanted to say to them. so much you wanted to thank them for.

but as the muscle in the traveler's jaw went taut when shigeru’s zest came seeping out, you knew it wasn’t worth piling stuff onto their plate.

“homesick?”

gorou had noticed you ogling at the enthusiasm practically radiating off the recruits, which pulled you out of your woolgathering. you whispered in surprise, “how did you know, sir?”

“just a guess,” he intuited.

the general unceremoniously plopped down on a wooden crate and heaved a sigh that deflated his whole body. you were meaning to ask him if you did an okay job today, but unsure of the right timing, you timidly took a seat on the barrel beside him.

“my life wasn’t so hectic as it is now,” gorou said after a long silence, the strain in his voice quite palpable. “i was a regular soldier from a small village, like those people you just trained.”

your eyes followed his line of sight to the men in question, who were more or less goofing around and brawling with each other in the dirt. picturing gorou as one of them—blithe and carefree—was a bit heartrending, as he was probably reminiscing about the same thing.

“but when the captain of my unit fell during a special operation, i had no other choice but to step forward as the new leader,” gorou went on, a myriad of emotions displayed on his face. “i’m now the general of the army, and it’s my calling in life to give others strength…

“but i sometimes just want to be a little kid curled up in my mom’s lap as she berates my siblings for being too loud again.” gorou threw a sheepish smile your way. “things are peaceful now though, so i can’t be too nostalgic.”

you wondered why this young man had chosen to confide in you. was he encouraging you to open up about how you were feeling?

“...i’m actually from mondstadt, so i miss seeing my family, too.”

the last word came out croaky. you thought about what your father must have gone through under the possession of the fatui and whether you could have done more to help him.

in actuality, if your father hadn’t persisted on moving with you to inazuma for your dream job, he would be alive and well.

but the longer you dwelled on this fact, the sicker your stomach felt. you decided to bury your forebodings for now.

“mondstadt?” gorou parroted like you just dropped a bombshell on him. “since when did you arrive here?”

“...hmm, it’s been about a year,” you weighed up, picking at the fraying ends of your haori overcoat. “i unfortunately got to inazuma right after the sakoku decree was implemented.”

walking through the streets of ritou, which teemed with people from all walks of life, had made it clear to gorou that the citizens from mondstadt, liyue, fontaine, sumeru—they embellished pride within their hearts for their hometowns and wore the clothes crafted by tailors from their respective regions. merchants from the land of commerce arrayed themselves in traditional tangzhuang, and researchers from sumeru academia donned shawls made of pashmina.

however, his eyes swept over your kimono, which showed no signs of your alleged place of origin.

not wanting this conversation with you to grow stale, gorou blundered out, “reader… um, is there a reason you opted to wear inazuman attire?”

your fingers paused on the loose threads you had been toying with.

“...i still wonder that as well,” you replied. “a year ago, i arrived at the port in a dirndl, which is a folk-style dress from my hometown. at first, i didn’t feel scared to be in a new place since i spotted some adventurers from the guild’s mondstadt branch. y’know, in their super bright green clothes…

“...but their stares were just as cold as the officers’ from the tri-commission. i guess the tension between foreigners and the shogunate was already on the rise. the sakoku decree was executed by the raiden shogun right after, and settling down in inazuma got way harder for me. because of my clothes…”

because of your clothes, they were telltale signs that made you the elephant in the room—getting called names, having others ignore you more times than you could count, being the butt of every joke…

and all the nonnatives were financially struggling because of the mandate. shop owners would leer at you and ask if you even had enough money to buy their goods.

so although the storm barrier around the nation was officially quelled by raiden ei, its strength was no match for the resentment you felt while the decree was enacted. the inazumans’ perception of outlanders stuck knives into your heart, yet all you could do was seethe quietly every day, wishing for a better tomorrow.

but whilst dredging up the past now, you didn’t really feel as angry as before.

finally, you told gorou, “because of my clothes, i was not treated very well, and although i wanted to be a proud mondstadter… someone reasoned with me that it would be better off borrowing their sister’s wardrobe.”

that someone was hotaru, who could no longer tolerate how people were conducting themselves in your presence. his last straw was when a shogunate officer dropped their fisherman’s toast on your shoes near shimura’s restaurant and told you to clean it up because they assumed you were a maid on your way to work.

gorou’s tail was thumping against the crate he was sitting on with fluctuating intensity throughout your lamentation. now, it was incredibly still. his whole body was incredibly still.

yet he felt like he was going to implode any second.

you couldn’t tell what thoughts were streaming through gorou’s head, however, because his face was stoic.

you swatted at the air like you were getting rid of an annoying pest. “sorry, i didn’t mean to dampen the mood, but let’s let bygones be bygones.” nowadays, you were a super glamorous and successful celebrity person with fans on their hands and knees asking for your hotaru's autograph.

gorou, however, did not share your sentiments about these bygones and simply said what was on his mind—a trademark habit of his that kazuha had pointed out to him before. “reader, i think you should wear your dirndl again.”

…

“what, do i not look good in a kimono…?” you asked in magnified alarm, hand over your heart.

gorou violently shook his head. “h-huh? hang on, i didn’t mean that!”

although you had only been joking, the pink hue glowing in the general’s cheeks made your eyes twinkle like mad. you couldn’t help but bend toward gorou and tease his heart—partially as payback for what he did to your heart last night. “or are you excited to see me in my dirndl?”

“you’re wrong!” gorou cried out.

“oh, so you aren’t excited…”

“no, reader, i think you would look great in anything!”

he did not mean to say that.

“wait�� d-don’t take that the wrong way! i… what i meant was…!” gorou’s eyebrows meshed together. has the spirit of lady yae possessed you!? “reader, i deeply apologize! it wasn’t my intention to speak out of line. you can…”

his ears drooped in defeat. “y-you can file a report to the tenryou commission…” he murmured.

you spontaneously cracked up to put an end to the farce, which seriously threw gorou for a loop. “i’m kidding, general! it was just funny to see a different side of you.”

scarlet blooming on his cheeks and arms folding across his chest, gorou let out a small “hmph!” with a voice laced in contempt before collecting himself. “in any case… i can’t fathom the shogunate’s audacity to act that way toward you. those officers shouldn’t even be employed right now if they are capable of such indecency. if i find those people…! grrr…”

this man did not just growl.

“...people can change,” you reasoned. “after all, those officers were only complying with the raiden shogun’s decree.”

“i know, but…” gorou shifted on the crate to directly lock eyes with you. “that doesn’t justify how they must have made you feel… you deserve to wear whatever you like. speak however you like. be whoever you like. even if you’re registered here as an ‘outlander’, you’re equally as human as the next person.”

…preach, sister hina.

you didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to see that he truly befitted the nation’s beloved advice columnist. the fondness you felt for gorou’s visceral yet genuine reaction was second to none, but you noticed his antagonism of the officers was stark in contrast to how thoma had viewed them.

months ago, the kamisato clan’s housekeeper resolved an issue between you and an officer, who kept pestering you for an i.d. card because the guy swore he had never seen your face before. to return the favor, you carried boxes of gunpowder and mortar tubes to naganohara fireworks with thoma and learned that he hailed from the free city as well.

but in spite of thoma’s highly esteemed standing as the “fixer” of inazuma, the yashiro commission representatives tittle-tattled about him whenever they thought he wasn’t nearby.

“we have people like that to thank for the decline of the samurai spirit in this day and age.”

“i heard he’s mondstadt born and bred… just saying.”

“what do you think miss kamisato even sees in that guy?”

you had asked thoma what he did to ward them off, which had him replying with a light shrug, “i don’t mind their words. if you let their negativity get under your skin, it gets harder to remember all the good people who have helped you in the past, and i think they are what is most important in life. i really only care about how my close friends and i view me.”

those parting words of wisdom left no doubt in your mind that the kamisato clan was in good hands. yes, you still regularly wore the traditional clothes of inazuma to appease your overprotective boss, but thoma’s advice had genuinely struck a chord with you.

afraid that gorou may hunt down some unknowing officials, you planned to relay to him that you didn’t really give two boba balls about what the shogunate thought now, but gorou was suddenly up on his feet.

“reader, you deserve a proper welcome,” he emphatically declared, one hand outstretched toward you. “after your training is over, i want to invite you to my hometown on watatsumi island. the people there will love you; i’m sure of it!"

your eyes darted from his face to his hand and then back to his face in sheer astonishment. “s-sir, that’s so kind of you…!”

you tentatively curl your fingers around his and stand up from the barrel, feeling a bit jittery on the inside. words almost completely eluded you until you managed to pull yourself together. “um… so you like mountaineering, right? since the sakoku decree has been annulled and all, we should travel to dragonspine someday! it's the mountain range near the city of mondstadt, and the summits there are suuuper high…! oh, wait.”

quickly, you fell into deep thought while still holding his hand, and gorou cocked his head expectantly.

“it is super cold though,” you brought into consideration. “it’s not going to be so easy for us to live, laugh, love in those conditions. does the fur on your ears and tail help keep you warm?”

your other hand subconsciously lifted to touch the fluffy ears atop the general’s head. gorou felt his body waver between reeling back from your touch and yielding to it.

his free hand shot up to capture your wrist, but as soon as your fingers interlaced with his silky fur, a shiver ran down his spine.

“wow, so soft…” you mumbled.

“w-wait, reader…!”

across the field were a few lingering novices, their minds completely enraptured by the idea of becoming full-fledged watatsumi soldiers. the one with a taper fade as his hairstyle noticed you gleefully ruffling the fluffy ear of the general, who was (strangely) not backing off.

taper fade chortled, “reader must have caught wind of the rumor. do you think the general would let us rub his ears for good luck, too?”

“hey, who is reader by the way?” asked long fringe bangs. “i thought general gorou would be training us, not him training reader to train us…”

“not so sure,” taper fade contemplated. “judging by the way gorou kept secretly looking at reader during yesterday’s meeting, i thought they were his significant other, but i overheard a senior say that reader is here ‘undercover’ for her excellency. whatever that means.”

“undercover?” disconnected undercut scoffed while spinning an arrow around his middle finger. “who would’ve thought? they really do look so... normal though. i guess that’s why madam kokomi chose them.”

his eyes flitted away and latched onto the training dummy near you and gorou. a lightbulb flicked on above his head.

“hey, you two wanna make a bet with me?”

the last thing you were expecting to see past gorou’s head was disconnected undercut aiming his bow straight at the canine general himself.

“get down!”

“huh?”

without a second guess, you shoved gorou to the side, and a profusion of pain exploded in your right shoulder.

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#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #gorou x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #fluff #crack #comfort #angst #stella writes — !#live to tell the tail

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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

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Rivalries Of The High Seas

Requested By Anon: "Pirate AU, enemies to lovers."

AU: Pirate

Pairing: Captain!Rosé x Fem!Captain!Reader

Word Count: ~ 7,375

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major Injury (Inflicted On Reader), Dangerous Situations, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Anon, thank you for this one! I've never seen the movie you mentioned in your request, but you did well in explaining what you wanted to see here. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

PS ~ Captain Rosé could step on me and I'd say thank you

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Death isn't a new thing to you. It isn't some far-off, enigmatic fear capable of tearing down your psyche anytime the topic is brought up. In fact, you're faced with the harsh realities of it almost everyday, given your ranking. Even still, when you woke up this morning, you hadn't expected for the day to consist of you meeting your end.

Your hands remain clasped together tightly, bound to the rickety wooden chair you've been securely strapped into by layers of rope and chains. Your wrists burn as the rough material pulls against your skin, surely leaving dark marks by now, but that's the least of your worries as you eye the bandits standing before you. Their faces hold smug grins, cheeks pulling back in eerie smiles to reveal crooked teeth. "I won't give you the pleasure of seeing me beg for my life. I accept my fate." You say bravely, holding your head high.

"How noble, Captain." They sneer, leaning far too close for comfort. You fight the gag that works its way up your throat at the smell of them, the wicked stench burning your nostrils as it invades them.

"Even if you escape now, the rest of my crew will come for you." Rosé finally speaks from behind you, sitting in the same state as you as she glares at the surrounding men. Her fingers futilely pull at your shared restraints for the millionth time, brushing along your wrist in the process.

"It's cute that you think that matters. We'll be long gone by then."

Her head lightly pushes against yours as she leans back in her chair, seeking to evade the man when he enters her personal space. For some reason unbeknownst to you, your blood boils at his actions -- though Rosé is your enemy of sorts, seeing that she's a rival captain herself, you can't help but want to keep him away from her.

The vile creature parts her legs with an evil smirk on his lips, his filthy hand groping her thigh as he runs his fingers along her beautiful skin. She whimpers in protest, growing afraid of what he'll do to her in her captive state. Had she been unrestricted right now, she would've most definitely cut his hand off, forever reminding the world of his misdeeds.

"Just get it over with!" You shout angrily, voice hoarse from all the screaming you've done today. You've grown tired of the game they've been playing for over an hour, flipping between beating and ridiculing you relentlessly.

"Alright, alright," their leader chuckles, putting his hands up as he approaches you. He instructs his men to be on standby, ready to gather around the two of you and hoist you into the air. They wait for the all-clear to throw you overboard and into the chilly sea below, full of creatures you've seen during your fateful adventures over the years. There are certainly worse ways to go, and you attempt to come to terms with what's about to happen. Perhaps this is a poetic end for you -- being laid to rest in the place that you've spent most of your life and made countless memories.

"Keep those eyes on me as you fall. I want to remember what it looked like to take down the infamous Y/N L/N." You narrow your eyes at their leader, grimacing as they scan over his greasy, jet black hair and tattered overcoat. Aren't the "bad guys" supposed to at least be stylish? He's a sorry excuse for one if so.

"Kiss my ass." You utter, spitting at him. He lunges forward, just like you expected -- seriously, why are men so predictable? -- and takes the collar of your shirt between his fingers. He delivers a swift blow to your left cheek, only allowing you a second to recover before pulling your head back up to give the same treatment to the other side.

You can feel Rosé tense behind you, doing all she can to reach for you and offer comfort.

With a pained groan, you spit out a mouthful of fresh blood and raise your head to look at him again. "You know, you're not nearly as observant as you think you are." You smile, ignoring the pain that shoots through your busted lip. Before he has time to react, you raise your foot in one motion, swiftly connecting it with his crotch. How could they neglect to tie your feet? That's practically Pirate 101.

He doubles over in an instant, lungs void of the air necessary to speak another insult in retaliation to your act and body incapable of any further movement. His men make the decision for him, taking this moment as a sign to follow through with their plan and throw you over. Shouts and cheers pierce through the air above you as you make your quick descent, not even having time to say a goodbye to Rosé or offer a final word to the universe.

Cold water immediately rushes over your heated skin as you plunge into the waves below, its frigid temperature almost taking what little breath you managed to store away in your lungs. Aided by the water's altered state of gravity, you're able to work your hips past a few of the loosely tied ropes that rested against them.

One thing you admire about Rosé is her quick thinking. She's smart -- while you distracted the leader, she took the opportunity to pry off some of the restraints that required more time and effort, just like you hoped she would. Her slender fingers inconspicuously wiggled their way out of the ropes before freeing you from them as well, and the bandits were none the wiser. Her previous actions make this part all the more easy, and after spending a while on the final ties, the two of you kick off of your chairs and head for the surface. It's a struggle, no doubt, with the way you have to fight to bring the chains up with you and keep them from pulling you further under. But eventually you reach the surface, once again filling your lungs with that miraculously fresh air that they so desperately craved.

The saltwater stings as it flows over your face, getting in your eyes and rushing over all the wounds you've accumulated. Rosie sputters from beside you, struggling a bit to keep her head up, so you extend an arm for her to use to push herself up. You tell yourself you're only doing it -- that is, making sure she doesn't drown -- because she'll be useful in helping you survive. Deep down, though, your intentions extend further than that.

Once you find a steady rhythm with the waves and the fear of drowning subsides for the time being, you scan the horizon line. "I see land -- over there." You say, using your head to point to what looks to be an island in the distance. "We'll swim when we have the energy and float when we need rest, okay?" She nods in response, and the two of you get set on your way.

-----

Huffing from the pure exhaustion coursing through your bodies, you manage to drag yourselves onto shore before collapsing. The sand serves as a good place to lay, almost cradling you the longer you lay there. Tiny, rippling waves -- the aftershocks of much bigger ones -- lull into shore, fluttering past your ankles before being pulled back in by the tide. They lap against your skin, remedying your racing mind with their rhythm. Minutes pass in this cycle, setting you in a state of comfort before you remember everything you'll have to do before nightfall.

Once gaining enough strength, you raise your head and peek over at your rival.

She's sleeping. Of course. You can't blame her, but the sun -- once blazingly hot, perched high up in the sky -- is now setting, giving you a preview of the darkness that the night sky will hold. She turns, rolling her head towards you in her sleep, and you almost smile -- a light dusting of sand sticks to her puffed-out cheeks, and the bridge of her nose holds a small sunburn, making her look sunkissed and blushy. Y/N, stop that, you command yourself, shaking your head at your thoughts. She's your enemy, and she's the reason you're even in this mess in the first place.

"Wake up," you nudge her, reverting back to your previously tense demeanor. The anger you possess for the situation you're in is returning en masse, wiping the pleasant thoughts of Rosé from your mind.

She groans, keeping her eyes tightly shut as she attempts to ignore you. "Roseanne, we have to get up." Your voice is strong, commanding her just like your crew. Your crew, you think to yourself. Some of them were killed by the bandits while others were thrown into the prison chambers of your ship, left at the mercy of your enemies until they decide what they want to do with them. Your people are inventive and strong -- they'll likely find a way out of the sticky situation and reclaim victory. For now, though, you're left to worry about their fates as you attempt to survive on this island. If the elements and animals don't kill you first, the gorgeous woman beside you most definitely will.

"I'm up!" She all but shouts, following another prodding from you. Her eyes flutter open and she instinctively raises her hand to wipe her face -- you catch the chains before they can make contact and harm her, and she sends you an appreciative look. "Guess I forgot about these…" she shakes her arms, jiggling your restraints in the process, "Oopsie."

"Come on." You say, standing up and pulling her along with you. Her dilly dallying is making you impatient, and it only increases your levels of irritation. You don't have time to waste.

"We have to break these," she states the obvious, searching the shore for a decently sized rock.

A sarcastic gasp slips past your lips as you look at her. "You don't say! I was thinking we'd just leave them on." She turns to glare at you, narrowing her eyes as she stops walking. Dear god, there's no time for this. With a mumbled "here we go", you allow her to continue.

"You know, we wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you."

"Me?!" You shout, completely taken aback. "Quite the contrary, Rosé. You're the one who led them to us!"

"If you would've accepted my offer, none of this would've happened. But you refuse to team up with anyone else. Look at where that got us now." She motions around herself to the island, expression settling back into an annoyed scowl as her eyes settle on you again.

"It's not my fault that my crew is more trained than yours; I had no reason to merge our teams."

"An agreement would've solidified our strength!" She yells, stomping her foot into the sand. Her boots managed to survive the long trip here, but their material is completely soaked.

"I'm responsible for my crew, and my crew only. I had no decent reason to bring yours in with mine. It's just a liability and more mouths to feed." You say evenly, clenching and releasing your jaw a few times.

She begins to fire off her rebuttal, but you tune her out for the most part and start walking further inland. She has no choice but to follow, and she does so while adamantly complaining. You throw occasional jabs to her arguments in order to keep her moving, and your plan works well. She's too busy bickering with you to notice that she's doing exactly what you want her to.

"...and you're so arrogant, Y/N! I mean, really. God, you're infuriating."

"Are you done yet?" You ask, cocking your head to the side while you simply blink at her. She squints at you, about to give you another piece of her mind, but you glance down at the rock you led her to and she closes her mouth.

"You can keep screaming at me or we can break these chains. Your choice." You shrug, pursing your lips. She cuts her eyes at you, but agrees with a huff, nonetheless.

The two of you work together to find fittingly sized rocks, taking turns dropping them on your restraints and methodically working them against them. Eventually the chains give way, allowing your hands to wiggle out of their strict hold. You're the first to free yourself; once you're done, you find Rosé struggling in silence, refusing to ask for your help.

"Here," you offer, extending a hand to her. Doing nice things for people without gaining something for yourself isn't something you do often -- you've been raised differently; grown more independent and self-serving after your time on the sea.

"Oh, now you want to work together?" She quirks an eyebrow.

You put your hands up with an amused grin. "I don't have to help, feel free to do it alone." You stand, dusting the sand off of your clothes as you begin to walk away and investigate the island. She calls out behind you, annoyed shouts getting further and further away as you just smile and continue your journey.

------

"Ah, glad you could join us again." You smirk, adding some kindling to the small fire you managed to set up during her time away.

"Shut it," she bites back, glaring at you.

"Tough crowd," you laugh, raising your eyebrows. For once, she doesn't say anything back. She busies herself with removing her shoes and socks, setting them next to the source of heat to dry before disappearing into the tree line. She returns a few minutes later, carrying with her a few different branches. Some of them are forked at the top, and she arranges them into a sturdy structure beside the fire as well. You try not to focus on how strong she looks as she does it, her muscles glistening in the fading evening light with a sheet of sweat.

To your surprise, she begins stripping.

First her overcoat, which she drapes across the branch acting as a beam between the forked ones, and then her vest. She wrings them out individually, and you watch as the materials drip with what water hadn't already evaporated yet. The loose linen undershirt that she wears remains on, and you're thankful for that -- had she taken it off as well, you likely would've passed out. The blush on your cheeks deepens as you feel her eyes on you, and you keep your gaze trained on the fire.

"Well? Are you planning to stay in those clothes all night?" She asks, running a hand through her hair to fix it and get some of the sand out.

"If I didn't know better I'd say you're trying to get me naked, Rosie." You play, smiling harder when you see her roll her eyes and look away.

"You wish," she scoffs, though you can see her stealing glances at you as you remove your clothes. She admires the shadows that the fire casts over your body, the flames dancing as they offer their beautiful warmth. The two of you go way back, having grown up as frenemies due to your professions, but she's always had a soft spot for you. You piss her off to no end, and yet somehow she can think of plenty worse people to be stuck with.

After catching her staring, you decide to tease her. You flex your muscles, making sure to be extra and really make a show of it. She blushes, hiding behind her hands to escape the situation.

"Awww, somebody's shy." You say, chuckling at her.

"Am not," she protests, though her sheepish grin sells her out.

"Prove it," you challenge, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Teasing her is one of your favorite pastimes.

Tired of the games, she gathers all of the courage she possesses and stands, slowly sauntering her way over to you. Your eyes take in the sight of her, and she smirks; she works hard to stay in shape, and she knows she looks good. Countless weeks spent at sea, working alongside her crew on long voyages has left her with artfully tanned skin and a physique to die for. You go to compliment her, but she stops you before you have the chance, pressing a finger to your pursed lips. She trails it lower, blazing a path across your jawline and chest, stopping at your ribs. Your breath hitches, and she definitely feels it. You curse yourself for being so easy, already knowing what's coming.

"Who's shy now, sweetheart?" She purrs out, smiling victoriously.

How she's capable of switching demeanors so easily baffles you, but it ensures that no interaction with her will be boring, if nothing else.

"Yeah, yeah," you grumble, pushing her away to break the growing tension. She's looking at you with some glint in her eye that you can't quite place -- all you know is that if she keeps doing it, things might escalate to a place neither of you are prepared for.

You clear your throat and step around her to adjust your clothes on the drying rack. "You can go ahead and sleep. I'll stay awake and keep the fire going."

She nods with a slight frown on her lips, though you don't see it. "Alright. But wake me up when you get too tired, okay?" You assure her you will, though truthfully your body is aching for sleep right now. The beating you took earlier did its worst on you, leaving your skin bruised and muscles knotted. She deserves to rest, though, and you're okay with giving her the first shift of it. Besides, your mind would surely keep you awake for the better part of an hour -- at least it'll be used to its fullest with her.

What you don't realize, however, is that when she lays down beside you, cuddling into the sorry attempt for a bedroll that you threw together, she merely pretends to fall asleep. Likewise, when she settles her head in your lap, searching for a more comfortable place to lay it, she's fully conscious. She lazily smiles when you run your hands through her hair, wrapping the locks around your fingers in mindless patterns before releasing them and starting over. It's soothing, and soon enough she calms her eager heart enough to slip away to dreamland.

--- A Few Days Later ---

"Wakey wakey…" Rosé sing-songs, hovering over you. The two of you have settled into this familiar rhythm over the past few days, spending the daytime searching for food and supplies and taking shifts to sleep through the night. You've almost always ended up taking the latter opportunity, though sometimes Rosé would force you to rest first if you needed it badly enough.

"Mmm," you groan in disapproval, rolling over. The sun is far too bright, and your upgraded bed situation is much too comfortable to offer any valid reason for you to leave it. Rosé knows how difficult it is to get you up, but she's learned some very useful tactics.

"Y/N…" she drawls, voice like honey as it releases your name with care. Her lips are next to your ear, teasing you as her warm breath fans across your neck. You audibly swallow, not prepared for that in the slightest, and slowly peek your eyes open. She raises a hand to shield your face from the unforgiving sun, and you smile at the domesticity of the act. She looks like a dream -- her hair is fanned out, swaying peacefully in the calm breeze that rolls in from the sea, and she's grinning that killer smile down at you. Her previous sunburn has turned into a tan now, making her look even more irresistible somehow.

"What do you want to do today?" You ask, lacing your fingers together as you put them behind your head. They work as a cradle, cushioning your head from the sand.

"I saw some berry bushes on the north side of the island. They didn't look like any poisonous kind I've studied about, so maybe we could check them out?" She suggests, sitting back on her knees with a quirked brow.

"Sounds like a plan." You smile lazily, gazing up at her. A light pattern of freckles paints her cheeks, and you can't help but grin at how adorable she is.

"What is it?" She asks skeptically, squinting at you.

"You're just too cute for your own good, is all." You sigh, content as you stand up and tug a blushing Rosé behind you. She closes the "door" behind herself, sealing off the entryway to your humble abode. It's a panel of leaves and sticks, built to be sturdy yet lightweight and easy to move. She built it herself, and a sweet smile works its way onto her lips as she remembers the praise you sent her way after she presented it to you.

--------

"If you don't slow down then I'm gonna slap you," she says, peering up at the trees that loom high overhead. In her distracted state, she neglects to look where she's going.

Her rambling is cut short by your hand darting out in front of her, effectively stilling her movements and words. You glance at the ground, prompting her eyes to follow the path they made and widen upon realizing what you just saved her from. An animal -- some wretched cross between a scorpion and pincher beetle -- continues its trip across the downed log that lays in front of you, menacing in its appearance.

"Thank you," she breathes out, leaning into your side as you hold her and direct her away from danger.

"Do me a favor and don't die, okay?" You quirk, scrunching your face up at her humorously. She shoves you, holding up her middle finger as she walks ahead and blazes a path for the two of you. You chuckle, grinning stupidly as you follow after her.

--- 3 Hours Later ---

"Take cover," you shout to an imaginary army, seeking refuge behind the base of a large tree. Rosé chuckles maniacally from behind one of the berry bushes, her fingers lightly stained from the juices that are running down her palm.

"Nice try, Y/N. But you can't escape… CAPTAIN ROSÉ!" She shouts, surprising you as she charges in your direction, pelting you with berry after berry. You squeal, evading as many of the makeshift missiles as you can by darting behind different greenery. She eventually catches up, snaking her arms around your waist and preventing you from getting away again.

"NO!" You exclaim, slumping further into her arms in defeat after your attempts to escape prove futile. She spins you around to face her, pressing your back up against the nearest tree as the two of you practically double over with laughter. She looks ethereal, with how she shines in the sunlight that sneaks its way through the canopy of tree tops above you. Her eyes are almost closed from how hard she's smiling at you.

A sharp growl breaks the happy moment, perking your ears up and causing your heart to race for a different reason entirely. You glance around the tree, protectively stepping in front of Rosé to shield her from any new threat. An animal -- something you've never seen before -- bares its teeth, snarling aggressively as it sets its sights on you. Your blood runs cold in your veins, stopping your heart momentarily as your brain attempts to formulate a plan on the fly. With only a few precious moments left before it attacks, you glance around for anything to double as a weapon without making any sudden movements.

Rosé is clutched onto you from behind, and you can feel her heart beating wildly. You have to protect her, no matter what.

"On my count, I want you to climb into this tree. I'm going to try and defend us." From what little knowledge you've inferred in the past couple minutes, you doubt the animal is capable of climbing well; it doesn't have the body or feet for it. You fear it is capable of running quickly, though, so the tree is likely your best bet.

"What? No, I'm going to--"

"Roseanne, please, for once, just do as I ask. Trust me." You plead over your shoulder, noting the slight tremble that runs through her as another roar echoes out. Your eyes remain trained on it, never backing down for a second.

One steadying breath later, you shout, "Now!" and swoop down to pick up what helpful materials you can. You charge at the animal, taking the offensive in order to keep as much distance possible between it and Rosé. You successfully jab the sharpened stick into its side, causing it to wail in pain. In an instant it grabs your arm, wrapping it's paws around you as it lunges forwards and tumbles to the ground on top of you. A scream leaves your lips as you watch its teeth dig further into your flesh, garnering deep crimson blood to spill from your developing wounds. You protect your neck with your other arm, only breaking this rule to reach to your side and retrieve the heavy rock you brought along as well. It connects with the side of the animal's head, only making it whimper before loosening its grip the slightest bit. You weren't prepared for it to be such a tough enemy. You use your strength to roll it over and sit on top of it, keeping your arm in its grip to ensure that it stays occupied. Your fingers dig into every sensitive part of its body you can reach, performing the defense moves you've spent your life practicing to use. With a glance at Rosé, you find her safe in the tree, just like you wanted.

"Run!" You shout, willing to keep the creature distracted in order to give her time to escape. Before you can see if she listens to you, it's nails claw into your abdomen, scratching painful designs into the previously smooth skin. It performs another death roll, and you barely have the strength to shank it in the side again. It howls, rearing back to go for your jugular before its movements are abruptly cut short. An unsettling crack rings out above you, and you open your eyes after not receiving the fatal blow you had been expecting. The animal scampers away from you, limping off further into the forest until it's out of sight.

Rosé drops the large branch in her hand, the end of it lightly stained with blood. "Go..." you weakly mumble, eyes beginning to flutter closed as you notice how much blood you've already lost. You feel cold, and you have to fight the shiver that runs through you.

"I've got you, Y/N." She whispers, cradling your fragile frame in her arms as she picks you up and begins the journey back to camp. "You did good." She reassures, having no idea how much you needed to hear that before falling unconscious.

---------

After gathering the medicinal plants and resources that the two of you have accumulated so far, she returns to the fireside, settling down beside you. She raises your shirt enough to have access to your wounds, but not far enough to expose you. Temperate water meets your bloodied and broken skin, rushing over the sensitive areas as she gently cleans them. Once dry, she mixes the materials into a sort of salve to rub on them before laying the plants on them in place of bandages.

The crackling of the fire works with the crashing of distant waves to serve as background noise, making the night far more peaceful than the day had been. She allows you to continue resting, knowing you need all of it that you can get.

About an hour or so later you wake with a start, hands reaching out as if you were right back in front of the animal. Your dreams were plagued with images of the nightmarish beast, and you're having trouble adjusting to the fact that they were all in your head. They felt so real. Rosé is by your side in an instant, brushing your hair out of your face with one hand while caressing your thigh with the other -- it's one of the only places that made it out of battle relatively unscathed. Your panicked eyes find hers, glazed over with tears as you pull her flush against your body, glad to know she's okay. Her warmth reminds you that she's here, that she's real, and that she's safe.

Memories of your fight come flooding back, filling your mind with the terrifying things you witnessed and reigniting your fight or flight response. You remember that she didn't listen to you -- she put herself in harm's way instead of leaving you behind, like you asked -- and you grow angry. Muttered phrases of disapproval leave your lips as you push her away, stumbling slightly when you try to stand on your own. Although confused by your erratic behavior, she reaches out to assist you, only to be met with a harsh refusal from you.

"Stop!" The word comes out as an angry shout -- louder than you originally intended -- but you can't find it in yourself to apologize right now. You find your footing after a moment, holding your side as you walk away from her.

"What's your problem?" She shouts, marching after you. She refuses to let this go without a fight, seeing as how she has plenty more questions than answers now.

"You could've gotten hurt, Rosé, and I could've handled it on my own." You say over your shoulder, continuing on your journey away from camp. Her relentlessness is quickly getting on your nerves.

"Clearly you couldn't! You needed help; why are you denying that?" She stops now, crossing her arms angrily with her brows furrowed. The fact that you're still so set on clinging to your pride is pissing her off.

"You should've left me there! I can't have you getting hurt because of me." You turn around now, setting your jaw. Is she really this blind? This has nothing to do with your pride. Her eyes meet yours, the pools overflowing with confusion as they scan over your face in search of clarification.

"I can handle something happening to me; I've made my peace with that. But if something ever happened to you because of my incompetence…" you shake your head at the mere thought of that, momentarily too overwhelmed to continue, "...I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I care about you, idiot." You add that last line before turning around, not bothering to wait on her reaction. Part of you is scared to, honestly, and the day has been far too eventful for you to handle a potential rejection on top of everything else.

She says nothing, leaving the air around you void of her beautiful voice, and you don't know whether to be thankful or disheartened.

You put more distance between the two of you, leaving a stunned Rosé in your wake as you find a place to sit along the shoreline. Your temper -- more precisely, the fear you hold that presents itself as anger -- reared its head tonight. You didn't mean to snap at her like that, but the possibility of her getting hurt because of you makes your blood boil. That would be unforgivable, and you wouldn't be able to live with yourself. You felt helpless earlier, quickly running out of the strength required to keep her safe.

Salty tears manage to break past your line of defenses, much like Rosé has managed to do with your heart. She's torn down every wall you've ever put up to protect yourself, and now that she's there you don't know how to cope. You've had people you considered close before, but none of them have mattered like she does. You've never been so afraid of losing someone.

A soft hand on your shoulder makes you jump slightly, pulling you from your thoughts. Speak of the devil.

"Hey." She says simply, sitting down beside you. You turn your face away, not wanting to let her see you cry. "I'm sorry for fighting, okay? But I'm not sorry for helping you. I care about you, too, and I'll be damned to just leave you like that." She doesn't say anything else, doesn't try to make you look at her -- she just sits there, waiting for you to be ready to do so on your own.

She's waited on you since you were teenagers, so she figures she's capable of waiting a bit longer now. Both of you are aware of the love you hold for one another; this is just the hardest part -- finally admitting it.

"I can't lose you," you whisper, eyes full of tears that occasionally roll down your cheeks once gravity finds its footing. You turn to the front, still too emotional to look into her eyes.

"Ditto. That's why I did what I did."

Your knees are raised and pulled in close to your body for security, your arms wrapped around them to keep them in place. She reaches over to rest her hand on yours, wordlessly coaxing you into looking at her.

"I…" You pause, voice breaking with the emotions you're still reeling from.

"I know." She says, resting her forehead against yours.

"I love you, too."

She pulls you in, making sure to be gentle and not injure you any further. She raises your head to press her lips against yours, tasting the faint hint of wildberry that still rests on them from earlier. It's slow and new, giving you a break from the intensity you've been dealing with the past few days. You tilt your head to the right, letting out a whimper as her fingers graze a bruised spot on your ribs. She gives you another peck before pulling away, determined to stop herself while she still can. You're addicting, and she already can't get enough of you.

A beat passes between you, giving you time to sort the thoughts rushing around your mind. "I've always loved you." You admit, pulling back to look at her. Tears well in her eyes, shining brightly in the brilliant moonlight as they threaten to fall.

"Ever since we commanded our own boats for the first time. Mine was better, of course," she laughs at that, smiling despite herself, "...but I knew you were different then. I've spent all these years being too stubborn to let myself have you."

She takes your words in, her heart pounding victoriously in her chest at your confession. "I knew when we were still training together. You always made things better for me then; I was so thankful to know you. Even if we teased the hell out of each other."

You grin at the countless memories that come to mind. "Do you remember that night at the docks, after we graduated from our classes?" She looks up, searching her memory vault. "When you kissed me?" She asks. You nod, looking down with a bashful smile.

"I knew we wouldn't see each other for a while, so I wanted to make it count."

"You made it really hard to say goodbye, you know?" She says, her eyes softening as she looks at you.

"I know. But you get half of the blame."

She tuts at you, nudging you playfully. You hiss in pain, causing her to bring a hand up to cover her growing smile. "Oops. Sorry, not sorry."

"If I wasn't hurting so bad I'd tackle you right now."

"Oh, I'm so scared." She laughs, mocking you.

"That's it," you declare, ignoring the pain that shoots through your body with all the moving you're doing. Her laugh practically heals you anyway, so it's not hard to push it from your mind. You press her into the sand, rolling over to straddle her hips and pin her hands above her head.

"Woah, tiger. Don't hurt yourself." She raises her head as much as her restrained state will allow, coming dangerously close to your face.

"You're such a dork." You tut, leaning in to capture her lips once more. She mumbles out a, "you love it, though" against you, and your heart can't help but soar.

- A Few Weeks Later -

A soft melody rides along the airwaves towards your ears, persuading you to wake up from your cozy slumber. You cuddle further into Rosie's tempting embrace, smiling at the way she pulls you impossibly closer. Her throat wiggles as she hums out a familiar tune from your childhood -- one of the songs you used to dance together to.

"You big softie." You coo, resting your chin on her chest to look into her eyes with a smile. She grins, finally peeking at you through her lashes.

"Good morning, beautiful." She says, her accent coming through adorably. She pulls you up to her lips for a kiss before rolling you onto your back.

You sigh as she leaves open mouth kisses to your neck, dragging her lips over the skin there lazily. She takes her time, leaving marks here and there to show the world who you belong to. Her hands skim over the warm skin of your abdomen, finally free of the intense wounds you've been recovering from. Only small scars are left now, serving as a testament to what you endured.

"Mmm, I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat." She chuckles at that, her head falling forward to rest against your shoulder as her body shakes with laughter.

"You're thinking about food while I'm kissing you?" She grins, propping herself up on her arm to look down at you lovingly.

"What can I say? I'm a hungry girl." You kiss her cheeks, ghosting your lips over hers. "Although," you tease the corner of her mouth, "...you're looking pretty tasty right about now. I might just eat you instead."

She squeals as you crawl on top of her, pretending to bite her skin as you tickle her sides.

"I surrender!" She shouts, finally giving into you. You kiss her one last time before pulling away and practically dragging her out of the structure.

"I'll get started on cooking the fish if you grab some water." You offer, rustling through your handmade crate for the skewers you use to prepare food.

"Alright," she nods, kissing you on the cheek before grabbing your canteens and setting off towards the freshwater spring not far from camp.

"Be careful!" You call out after her, smiling when she turns around to face you with her hands in the form of a heart.

---------

"Good job baby. That was delicious." She compliments, leaning back against the log you use as seating beside the fire. She almost always opts to sit in the sand and rest against it for some reason, but you're long past questioning her at this point. Rosie's… unique.

"They don't call me Chef Y/N for nothing." You quip, holding your head higher with a sense of self-importance.

"They don't call you that anyway."

"Hey," you pout, slapping the back of her head with no real force. "Let a girl pretend, would you?"

"Fine, my apologies." She smiles again, and you can't help but do the same. You've lost count of how many times she's made you laugh over these past few weeks, and although you hope to be rescued sooner rather than later, the thought of being stuck here with her for a while longer doesn't seem all that bad.

"You're doing it again," she trails off, wiggling her voice up and down to tease you.

"What?"

"Looking at me like a lovesick puppy." Her eyes shine in the warm, tropical sunlight, pools of rich amber that you wouldn't mind getting lost in. They match the color of whiskey almost perfectly.

"Not my fault. Have you seen yourself?." She scoffs, but blushes nonetheless. You lean over to press a kiss to the top of her head affectionately.

Your attention is stolen away all at once as you hear the words you've been imagining ever since you arrived on the island. "Land, ho!" Multiple voices bellow out in the distance, prompting you to search for their source. Collective cheering can be heard, and you swiftly stand -- as if that simple act will miraculously enable you to see better.

"We're coming, Captain!" Jisoo, your second in command shouts, seemingly hanging off the bow of the ship -- your ship. A squad of others follows behind, maintaining a tight formation as they make their way to shore.

"Us too, Captain!" Someone calls from one of the neighboring boats, apparently one of Rosé's crewmembers. She waves back excitedly, and you bite back the smile that tugs at your cheeks.

Eventually they reach land.

"Y/N!" Your scout, Lisa, shrieks like a schoolgirl, running into your arms eagerly. She was the first friend you ever made during your training years, long before you met Rosé, and you were truly worried for her.

"Ah, Lisa. Jisoo." You look between the two of them proudly, glad to see them alive and well. "What happened?"

"We managed to defeat Captain Crusty's men--" she stops to explain when she notices your brows furrowed in amused confusion, "--that's the nickname we gave the bandit leader. Anyway, we defeated them and repaired the ship enough to make it back to shore. They did some major damage, though."

You nod, satisfied with their story, until you remember that they didn't come alone. You subtly motion your head to the other crew, and Jisoo gets the memo. "We found the rest of these pea-brains back at the docks and they insisted on coming along."

"Hey, it's not like we wanted to be stuck with you either!" Jennie, Rosé's second, hits back, defending herself and the rest of her crew. "If your moron captain would've listened to Rosé we wouldn't be here, and we wouldn't have lost anyone in the process."

"Quiet," Rosé warns, stepping in front of her to block the two sides from each other.

Despite knowing it isn't technically your fault, Jennie's words do hold some truth. You feel guilty for all the senseless violence you could've potentially spared your people from enduring, and the what-ifs weigh heavily on your mind and heart.

"So long as I'm still in charge, no one will disrespect Y/N or her crew. Are we clear? I won't take kindly to any of you going against me." It's a heavy warning, and her tone makes it clear that she'll be true to her word. They know better than to test her. Her eyes scan the group of misfits, all looking bewildered by her sudden change of heart. It must be a bit jarring for them, after being such bitter enemies with the others for so long. Regardless, scattered nods and grumbles of acceptance leave them before they all scurry away to get started on their tasks, looking like scolded children.

You send Lisa and Jisoo along with the rest of your crew to go ahead and board again, seeing that you have no real equipment to pack up this time. It feels wrong to leave the island -- the place that brought you back to Rosie and allowed you to open your heart to her -- without something to remember it by. So, with a whispered, "Wait here," you run back to camp to snatch something.

You return soon after, a huge smile plastered on your face. "You're bringing our door?" She laughs, tilting her head at your strange choice.

"Duh. Good to know your eyes still work, I was getting worried." You tease, giggling as she pinches you.

"Come on baby; let's go. Last one there has to clean the poop deck."

"Get back here!" She yells, chasing you into the chilly water with a smile. Whether she loses or not doesn't matter much to her -- she finally has you after all these years, and she can't wait to see where the future will take the two of you.

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not-equippedforthis · 6 months ago

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AWWWW wish we had heart-shaped lollies, those sound so cute akghskga yay for bouquet!! <33

you have to pay even if you dont go?? what the hell?? most of ours are mandatory, specifically the subject-specific ones, but some (like the skii trip) are optional and open to everyone. if you cant go you dont have to pay i dont think? idk what happens if you dont go actually

ayyyy free ticket! i feel you though, theres nothing to really? see? i feel like there used to be a big movie to see every year but now almost everything in the cinema feels really dull. last time i went was to see across the spiderverse (THAT MOVIE IS INCREDIBLEEE) and super mario bros cause there was a cheap deal and a friend invited me along. we usually just buy snacks from tesco and sneak them in cause its cheap LMAO (why is theater food so expensive?? im not paying 5 quid for a bag of popcorn)

ohh man, im sorry to hear that. it sucks when everyone feels like theyre drifting away :[[ i have a pretty close circle but even that feels smaller and weaker lately - people are going with their SOs or just finding other people. its difficult :/

yesss, true: theyre simultaneously harder and easier to maintain i feel. im in a server of online friends that used to be really lively but now its honestly kinda dead: we still talk sometimes but it was so much more active a few years ago :[

!!! <33333

AAAAA thats such a good idea!! i should start taking pictures too! ive been really wanting to make friends with crows for ages now? theyre very intelligent and remember your face and sometimes bring you things, id adore having a little crow friend. shame is theres not very many on my street or garden :[ theres a little robin that comes to our garden often though! maybe if i see the guy i can get a photo

aaaaahhh, i see i see. for us you pick your destination anywhere and it prices based on that? theres different train companies but its roughly all the same really. london is split into zones, and you buy a travelcard based on which zone youre going into and that also accounts for the tube line. its pretty expensive too but i looveee the underground and trains so i love taking them (when i have the money....)

SAMEE!! a large portion of my closet comes from charity shops: i just have better luck finding stuff i like there? also, sustainable!! i got a really cheap little kalimba from a charity store recently :]] you can find so many silly little trinkets its great! i have experience w crochet and basic sewing but ive never made clothing before, that sounds really cool!! ive considered it

MOTION SICKNESS GANG i feel you, i cant sit backwards on trains or i feel sick and i cant read in cars either akgbsng. also god yeah theyre LOUUDD. if you ever visit london prepare yourself for the victoria tube line (its light blue on the map). you cant carry a conversation with the person next to you cause the entire tube is screeching at you

BIG HOMODJFZ godddd, england has some of the worst place names too. theres a set of roads called 'upper dicker' and 'lower dicker'. if you look on google maps at england for 2 minutes youll find at least one town with a stupid ass name. wooden overcoats made up an island called 'piffling' home to 'piffling vale' and if that isnt the most accurately british-

im gonna have to look up big homo on google maps later- i gotta see how small this thing is. as a brit i am accustomed to tiny shitty ass beaches. i actually dont know much about belgium to be honest (my only....association with it is that poirot is belgian....thats it really) so i might have a little nosey around to see what its like <33 i love faffing about on google maps its my favourite wasting time activity DJBGSG

hiya <3

how are ya? i like the new theme :)

i cant really think of another question to ask rn, so just tell me about anything you want? (or not if you dont feel like it ofc)

HELLOO!! <333333

thank you so much!! i love changing it around skfbsng

iii have been incapable of talking without mentioning wooden overcoats (new podcast i started listening to a week ago and have almost finished) because its so underrated and silly and heartfelt and hilarious and charming AUGH i love it so deaaarlyyyy it ssooosoosso

how have you been??? i also cant think of questions FJGBSN but i want to know anything

#'youre easy to talk to' has me sobbing THANKY TOGUJTU #LIKEWISEE!!! :]]#sorry i take ages to reply i just havent been feeling great lately haha #conversation is. effort.#but these are easy <3333 #i very much enjoy talking to you!!

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magalidragon · 4 years ago

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fire on ice | a crackish Jonerys drabble

Soooo... @moggett reblogged this post and well I felt compelled to write a drabble for one of those prompts so I give you this crack fic-- a funeral home meet cute!

I give you....FIRE ON ICE! And this is also partially @youwerenevermine‘s fault, lol, because we literally had same idea for one of the prompts.

“Thank you so much Mr. Snow.”

Jon nodded politely, solemnly, his gray eyes the perfect amount of sympathetic, sad, and he hoped the right amount of ‘normal’— lest people think him a total fucking creep—while he shook the hand of the Greatjon Umber, whose son Smalljon Umber had unfortunately encountered the wrong side of a chainsaw while out trimming trees.

Greatjon began to go into a tale about his son—who by all accounts had been a horrible person—speaking like he was the second coming of Aegon the Conqueror for all his ‘talents’ and ‘successes.’ “Hmm,” he murmured, walking him slowly to the door. “He sounds like quite a man your son, thank you Mr. Umber, we will speak later regarding tomorrow.”

“Of course, thank you again Mr. Snow.”

The door shut loudly behind him, Jon slumping against it, relieved. He glanced at his cousin, who had emerged from the basement, shaking her chopped bob out of its messy little knot atop her head. “He gone?” she demanded.

“Aye.”

“I had half a mind to sew his arm on backwards.”

Jon closed the doors to the viewing room where Smalljon rested in repose until tomorrow when he’d be taken to the Karstark’s castle for the final funeral and ultimate burial in the crypts, as was custom for the Northerners. He clicked his tongue. “Arya, be nice.”

“Remember when his wife died, and he squeezed my arse?”

“Aye, I remember.”

“Thought so.” Arya checked her phone. “Your beloved texted me. We have another on the way. This one fell from the Wall. Ygritte said he’s a fucking mess.”

He made a face; he hated that she referred to his ex-girlfriend as his ‘beloved.’ “Will you stop calling her that?”

“She works for the morgue Jon, what were you thinking?”

“It’s hard to find women in this line of work.” He heard the bell ringing on the other side of the old stone house that served as their place of business and home—the five-floor monstrosity he knew people in town referred to as ‘Castle Black.’ He did wear a lot of black. Came with the territory. He waved off Arya. “Just make sure you finish up with Mr. Lannister before the end of the evening.”

“The rich dude who died on the shitter? Yeah, no thanks, that’s all yours.”

“Do you want to take this one? Where the fuck is Robb anyway?” Robb was the master of this shit, not him. He was better with the dead.

Arya walked away before he even could try to play ‘Dragon, Wolf, Lion’ with her or answer as to where her eldest brother happened to have gone off. Guess it was all him. He caught his reflection in one of the mirrors in the hallway, adjusting his black tie at his neck and raking fingers through his curls. It did nothing to tamp them down. He schooled his expression, solemn, and pushed through the dark wooden doors from the funeral home side of the floor to the entry way. He let them swing back and folded his hands in front of him.

“Welcome to Three Wolves Funeral Home, may I help you?” he asked, voice gentle; you never knew who might be waiting to speak with you on this side of the building. He’d been accused too often in Robb’s post-services discussions of being too cold.

The woman standing in a dark red dress with long black overcoat was not someone who appeared to be in mourning, but then you never really knew, some people were good at masking emotions. Her silver hair was in an elegant, braided knot at the back of her head and she had large black sunglasses folded in her hands, gazing at the table with various brochures for caskets.

She turned, blinking wide violet eyes at him, her lips crimson, face pale. “Good afternoon,” she greeted him, eyebrow arching. “I’m inquiring as to your crematory services.”

“For yourself?” he blurted, before he realized how it sounded.

She smirked, while he flushed, thrown off by her stunning beauty. He tried to school his expression again; she could very well have been there for her husband, boyfriend, or other, he did not need to stumbling through this. He wished Robb was there. “That would be interesting, wouldn’t it? Well, I can assure you I’m not here to burn myself alive, but you know…” She inspected her hand, a couple rings on them glittering gold. She grinned up at him. “I have heard stories my ancestors were immune to flame.”

His throat constricted. “Apologies. Can I help you?”

“Your crematory services?” she wondered again, walking by him and into the showroom, running a finger over an ebony casket.

“Ah…I am afraid Three Wolves does not offer such services. We can, however, assist with selecting one, urns, and preparing a memorial service.” He wondered what she was doing; she was now leaning down to look underneath a massive white casket. No one really cared what the underside looked like. He gestured towards the office. “We can speak in private, if you wish?”

The woman shook her head. “No I’m fine, thank you. Just doing a little bit of research.”

“For a relative?”

“Something like that.” She wore very high heels, which clicked loudly on the hardwood. She glanced sideways; eyes shrewd. “Are you one of the Three Wolves on your sign out front?”

“Yes, Jon Snow, I’m the mortician.” It sounded so creepy like that, but it was the truth. Robb handled the hand shaking, the business side. Arya was their resident makeup artist—she could do wonders with faces practically taking them on and off—but he was the one who handled everything else.

“Hmm, yes I heard of you.” The woman offered her hand. “Dany.”

“Jon,” he repeated, like an idiot. He was put off by her beauty, rather disarming. He swallowed hard again. “Nice to meet you. Is there…”

“This was enlightening Mr. Snow. I’ll be back.” Dany wiggled her fingers, waving, striding out decisively. “See you later.”

What the seven hells was that about? He spun on his heel, about to ask her what else he could help her with, when the front door slammed shut, bell ringing on her exit. He heard the door from the services wing open, Robb walking in. He scowled. “Where were you?”

“Talking with the Umbers, heard it went well, did we have a customer?” Robb adjusted his tie, eagerly seeing dollar signs. “Where are they?”

“They left.”

“Damnit Jon!”

He rolled his eyes, storming by. “I’ll be downstairs.”

“With Tywin Lannister? Better make him look good, the Lannisters are paying through the nose for this.”

“Aye,” he said idly, heading downstairs and to his ‘lair’ as Robb referred to it. He shook his head, preparing in the locker room, putting on scrubs and his protective gear. When he tugged on gloves, walking over to the block of freezer drawers, he rolled his eyes again, making another face. He was better with dead people anyway.

-----

A couple of weeks later, Jon saw the beautiful silver-haired woman again, this time from the front step of the funeral home, while Arya sat on the railing, Robb in shocked horror as the sign went up across the street.

Dracarys Funeral Home and Crematory Services

“How did this happen? We had the run of things here!” Robb exclaimed.

Arya cracked her gum. “Want me to get info?”

The silver haired Dany waved from the front step of her home. “Hello Starks!”

Jon shook his head, appalled. “I thought she was just asking because someone died…like they all do.”

“You didn’t think that she was scoping the competition?” Robb shouted.

“I told you I’m better with the dead than I am the living!”

“Oh leave him alone,” Arya chided. She rubbed Ghost’s ears—his great white wolf—gazing across the street again, shrugging. “Maybe we can make this work. Jon, you were the one who met her, maybe you can get some more info. They do crematory, we don’t. Maybe we can make a deal or something.”

Robb nodded, poking his shoulder. “Go over there, find out more.”

Jon sighed. He really didn’t want to do this. “I have that Wall guy to deal with.”

“Jarl will keep, go find out more.”

He slid away from the column, clicking his tongue for Ghost to follow him, the two of them crossing the street and up to Dracarys. He entered into the front room, seeing that everything was a shade of black and red. He glanced at Ghost, who was scanning the space with his bright ruby eyes, white fluffy tail wagging slowly. “What do you think?” he mumbled.

The walnut wood stairs creaked in the back, drawing him towards the door leading away from the showroom and sitting area. He peeked into another part of the old house, just like how their business was set up, with a viewing room and seating area. He moved to another door, which was open, leading down a set of stairs.

A massive black cat yowled from a sunbeam near the door, hissing at Ghost and running off. Ghost didn’t bark but took off after the cat. He sighed, calling out. “Please don’t kill her cat!”

He went down the stairs and pushed open a set of swinging double doors, pausing at the sight. It was state-of-the art and he scowled at some of the fancy equipment he’d been trying to convince Robb to upgrade to for the last year. He ran his tongue over his teeth, arching a dark brow at the woman who had been wearing head-to-toe designer when he’d met her and now was in black scrubs and protective gear, leaning over a dead man, a kit of makeup and brushes next to her.

“Jon Snow,” she called.

“Daenerys Targaryen.” He used her full name. The proprietress of the competition, he would not refer to her as Dany. “You could have told me you were moving in across the street.”

“And you would have shown me around? I think not.”

He stepped closer, curious at what she was working on. His eyebrows flew to his forehead. “Greyscale, huh?”

“Hmm,” Dany murmured. “Yes.” She looked up, grinning. “I saw you coming over, decided not to stop you from finding me. You’re not squeamish.”

“No I’m not.”

“They call you the King of the Dead.”

It wasn’t the worst thing he’d been called. “And you are?” he retorted.

“The Dragon Queen, I suppose you could call me. Or at least, that’s what they called me at mortician school.” She selected another brush, grinning. “I’m offering a service that your busines does not Jon Snow, that’s all.”

“The North doesn’t burn their dead.”

“I know, but many in the South do. There’s plenty of them moving up here.” Dany stood and pushed the gurney with the greyscale man into the freezer, closing the door. She removed her gloves and gear, walking by him, and began to wash up. She tossed a serene smile over her shoulder. “I think we can make this work Jon Snow. Don’t worry about it.”

“Robb isn’t used to competition.”

“And you?”

He shrugged. “I work better with the dead.”

“So do I.” When she finished, she studied him for a few seconds, which unnerved him. He tore his eyes from her, wondering what she was doing. She approached him, hands on her hips. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

He frowned, nose wrinkling, surprised. “Coffee?”

“A hot beverage, sometimes served with milk and sugar? Other times with various accoutrements like cinnamon or chocolate?” Dany’s smile softened. He saw then how gentle she actually was, how soft. It was comforting and he wasn’t even grieving. She must be very good at her job, he thought. He was numb, unsure how best to reply. She patted his arm, stepping by him. “Come on, I’ve got a lovely blend from Braavos.”

In the kitchen on the third floor of her house, where he assumed, she lived, she prepared the coffee. He wondered where Ghost had gone. “This how you get all the competition?” he managed to get out. “Ply them with coffee?”

“Just you.” Dany sat down across from him at a small bistro table in a large bay window, with a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance. She passed him the mug of coffee and used a small ceramic pitcher to pour milk into her coffee. Lifting it to her lips, she smiled again, warm and eyes dancing. “You intrigue me.”

He sipped his coffee—it was very good—a small smile on his lips. “You are an interesting one, Dany…if that is your real name.”

“Only my friends can call me Dany,” she mouthed.

“And we’re friends?”

“Well I hope we’re not enemies.”

Jon figured he’d have to wait it out and see for certain, but he didn’t think enemies was the best word for it. He was not good at this sort of thing, so he chose to continue drinking his coffee. He set the mug down on the table, sighing and cocking his head, a slight furrow to his brow. “I’m not good at this.”

“I know,” Dany shrugged. “But I am.”

Well that was that then, he figured, smiling at her.

-----

“So where did you two meet?”

Jon wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, as one of Sansa’s friends from King’s Landing had cornered him, trying to get info on Robb. “Where did I meet…?” he echoed, playing dumb.

Margaery Tyrell frowned. “Where did you meet Daenerys? Sansa didn’t tell me. In fact, she’s being really weird about things. Won’t even tell me what Robb does for a living.” Her eyes lit up. “I like a challenge.”

“Um, well…”

His wife of the last two hours emerged at his side, looping her arm through his. “We met at a funeral home,” she said, smiling at Margaery’s wide-eyed, horrified expression. Dany gazed up at him, love shining from her beatific face. “In fact, we contemplated holding the reception there, but figured everyone might think that a little weird.” She smiled even wider. “Also in the future, please keep the Fire on Ice Funereal Services in your thoughts for any funereal needs!”

Jon stifled a snort, glad to be rid of the odd questions. He smiled down at his beloved. “We didn’t actually consider the reception there or…did you?”

“No of course not, I don’t want to mix business and pleasure.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we did?”

“Nah, I came to scope out the competition and this really cute guy who couldn’t look me in the eye without blushing wandered in.” Dany rose on her toes, pecking his cheek. She patted her hand against his chest. She beamed again. “Best decision I ever made. I could have sent Viserys.”

At the mention of her annoying older brother, Jon shivered. He squeezed her close. “Very well then. Let’s at least try to figure out a better story, you’re scaring people.”

“Well it is the truth.”

Jon shook his head, but smiled anyway, his arm around her and hers around him, both of them walking off into the crowd of guests. He even thought that he overheard someone say the King of the Dead had found his queen. He kissed her temple, sighing. He certainly did.

THE END

#jonerys #Jonerys au #Jonerys drabble #worst prompts challenge ACCEPTED #I blame Erika for this one #crack fic totally

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vampiric-daydreams · 5 years ago

Text

Inkling

Jasper x Reader

This is Part 2 of the Jasper miniseries. Here is Part 1.

Summary: After the negative events of the last few weeks, Alice offers an explanation that just doesn’t seem to add up. You believe there is more to the mysterious family that meets the eye.

Word Count: 2,540

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @scuzmunkie @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oi-itsemily @cacti-succulents-andlesbians @aw0kenangel

A/N: There’s less Jasper in this chapter because a few things needed to happen in this part to keep the ball rolling. As the series progresses, the prerogatives of the Cullens will make more sense.

The buzzing chatter surrounding you broke the silence as you sat alone in a local café. It had been raining all day, and the people of Forks sought the solace of a sweet hot chocolate. You shifted in discomfort. Your socks were moist with dirty water you’d collected from splashing through a large puddle on your way in; and the pouring rain made your sleeves cling to your arms. You sat shivering at a corner table, goose bumps scattered across your exposed skin. The welcoming scent of coffee beans comforted you as you waited for your own hot drink to arrive.

A glare from a boy studying on the table beside you caused you to stop fidgeting with the sugar stick between your fingers. “Can you stop tapping?” he asked.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. You put the stick of sugar back in its place and took a deep, steady breath. You rarely met strangers, but lately you’ve been in a weird head space. An anonymous note in your locker had brought you here, requesting a meeting.

“Here you go,” the waitress said as she placed your scalding drink in front of you, the steam swirling from its surface. “And sorry for the wait. It’s always crazy here on these stormy days.”

“Thank you.” You weren’t in the mood for small talk right now. On top of this mystery meeting, you had gotten nowhere with the Cullen stuff. Everything had gone back to normal at school. No glares. No staring. No interacting of any kind. So, when Alice Cullen herself strutted through the door and straight towards you, the shock nearly knocked you over.

Her heeled boots clicked on the wooden floor. Stylishly dressed in an all-black ensemble with a trendy overcoat and a navy-blue scarf; her designer bag hung lavishly from the back of her chair as she slid into her place across from you. She smiled. “Thank you for coming, (Y/N).”

“What- seriously?” It came out louder than you intended, and the boy at the neighbouring table glared at you a second time. You whispered harshly, “I thought you guys were happy pretending I didn’t exist. Or do you have a new assumption to harass me about?”

Alice’s perfectly arched eyebrows formed a frown. “Actually, I came to apologise for our behaviour. Can I buy you a toasted sandwich or something?”

You scoffed. “A toasted sandwich won’t change my mind. What the hell was all of that? Actually, no. Never mind. I’ve been banned from talking to any of you, so I should leave.” Without letting it cool, you sculled your drink. The heat burned your throat as you tried not to wince. You couldn’t make a fool of yourself in front of a Cullen. Not again. You grabbed your phone and your keys and pushed your chair back.

“(Y/N), please. You deserve an explanation for everything.”

“Damn right I do!”

“Please sit and give me a chance to give you that. You’re welcome to leave, but please at least let me start?”

You plopped back down in your chair like a grumpy child and slouched. “Fine. Start.”

“Jasper was the first to notice. He noticed not long after the school year had started, but he mentioned nothing to us. Not that he needed to, he had no intentions - no offence.” You rolled your eyes. She swallowed. “But when Edward saw the way you looked at Jasper, he put it together. He’s gifted at reading people, and he felt you were getting too attached–”

“That was no-one’s assessment to make.” Your tongue still burned from your drink.

Alice nodded. “You’re right. It wasn’t. But Edward sees things in people… Often his own opinions and ideals surrounding certain topics will cloud his judgement. He mentioned his interpretation to Emmett in passing, who repeated it to Rosalie with different details. By the time I’d heard any of it, it sounded like you were plotting to separate us, which was why I was upset. I’m sorry, (Y/N). If I had known you had no intentions of actually breaking us up, I would have made them stop. No, I should have made them stop regardless of what I thought. Being a family for so long, we’re protective of each other. But I shouldn’t have let it reach the point that it did.”

The sugar stick once again found its way to your fingers as you stared at the girl in front of you. “Why are you telling me this?” It just didn’t sound right, despite Alice’s insistence.

“Because I’ve seen how hurt you were by it, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself or believe you’re not worthy of receiving love. We behaved like a bunch of callous bullies. We’re sorry and so is Jasper.” A hard prick stabbed at your chest.

“It’s whatever. There isn’t anything we can do about it now. What’s done is done, right?”

“Jasper wanted to come and apologise to you in person, but he was afraid. He’s quite empathetic, which is why he couldn’t bear to talk to you yet. Even Edward-”

Edward. “He was right, in a way. While I had no intention to do something that would hurt you or make Jasper leave you, I certainly thought about what it would be like if he was mine. It just seems like a big jump to make.” Alice’s brown eyes twitched as they widened. “He assumed I thought about something and then launched into action against me–and you say he’s good at reading people? It just all seems a little weird.”

“Yes, our parents had a word with Edward about jumping to conclusions like that. He just didn’t want to see me get hurt. Jasper in particular feels terrible about how he handled everything.” You feigned interest as she tried to deflect your attention with Jasper’s name. “He thought reminding you of his love for me would make you change your mind about him, and when that didn’t work his first instinct was to shut you out. This should be coming from him, not me, but please understand that he regrets how his behaviour translated. And (Y/N), we all want to apologise to you. You’re allowed to talk to us, you know. We don’t bite. And the others are too ashamed to speak to you themselves without being approached first. Will you give us a chance to make it right?”

If you were ever getting a shot at finding out what they were hiding, this was it.

You smiled sweetly, “I’d prefer it much better if we did that.”

Alice returned your smile, her kohl-lined eyes lighting up. “Remember, there’s no rush. After what happened, you don’t owe us anything. Take as long as you need.”

You nodded your head. “I will.”

For the first time in weeks, you arrived at school with a smile and something to look forward to. From the moment you entered the campus, you took the precaution to not actively think about your intention to dig deeper. It still seemed ridiculous, and you were sure you’d be cringing at yourself later on–but the circumstances were just too weird to you.

You spent the better half of the morning surrounded by your friend group, not ready to branch out and find the Cullens just yet. If they were as sorry as Alice had made them sound, they could stew in it for a while longer. You had already planned which order you intended to approach them in, too. Emmett would be first, as he seemed the least threatening. Next was Rosalie, and lastly Edward, who was the root cause of all of this.

You weren’t ready to go anywhere near Jasper.

The bell rang, and your group said their goodbyes as they went to their lockers. You fumbled with the combination lock on yours and gritted your teeth when it wouldn’t open. “Pretty sure the code hasn’t changed since yesterday,” a deep voice sounded from your right. Emmett. This was wrong; it was supposed to be you approaching them.

“Well I’ve had a rough few weeks.” You shot back. His wide smile faltered for a moment before shrinking away.

“I’m sorry about my contribution to that.” He spoke softer than usual. His eyes were the same warm gold as Jasper’s. Were they biologically related? Wait. No thoughts on campus.

“Yeah, the entire thing really sucked for me.”

“I didn’t want you to feel the way you did. I knew it wasn’t right. That excuses nothing, but I don’t want any bad blood between us. I’m really not that kind of guy.” His expression seemed genuine.

“You could have fooled me.” It came out before you could stop it. “Wait, no. Emmett I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair-”

“No, I get it.”

“No, you don’t. You did nothing. You didn’t even glare. I can’t be this mad at you.”

“I did nothing. That’s the problem. I let it blow out of proportion and by the time it got there, I couldn’t reign it back in. Alice gave you an idea of what happened, right? If I had kept my mouth shut after speaking with Edward, none of this would have happened.”

“If you had relayed the correct details and factored in Edward’s theatrics, none of this would have happened.” Rosalie appeared what seemed like out of thin air. You were sure you hadn’t seen her hovering nearby. Her warm brown eyes met your nervous gaze. You hadn’t been ready for any Cullens yet. “I’m sorry, too. You did nothing to warrant that reaction from us. I’m sorry for allowing myself to jump to those sorts of conclusions before you had even decided anything.”

If you had blinked, you would have missed Emmett nudging Rosalie with his elbow. No thoughts on campus. At least one storm was ending. Rosalie’s welcoming smile was not a sight you’d ever thought you’d see; and it was a clear sign that the discomfort would be over soon. But there were things - subtle things that didn’t always add up.

“I guess we’re cool then,” you said. You looked up at the couple properly. Although they didn’t compare to Jasper, they were both so attractive it was frustrating. It was the first time you’d seen them up close. Rosalie had the healthiest-looking flaxen hair you’d ever seen; and they both had such amazing skin. Neither of them had a single blemish to show. In fact, you recalled that Alice had pretty flawless skin as well—and Jasper’s complexion always looked so perfect. It was as if it blessed their entire family—which was even stranger because… Stop, just in case.

They were both smiling. Emmett reached out his hand for you to shake. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

“Thank you for letting us apologise,” said Rosalie, as the last bell rang and the hallway emptied. It wasn’t like they’d given you much of a choice.

Jasper had done nothing specifically to attract your attention. All he did was stroll over to his locker. But even just walking, the way he carried himself, how almost seemed to glide, never failed to knock the wind out of you. You caught his attention though, by staring, and he immediately looked at you. His bored expression suddenly drenched in regret. The negative feelings from the last few weeks consumed you; the humiliation, how repulsive you felt you were to him. There was an empty feeling in your chest, and as his apologetic amber eyes beckoned you over to him. Your legs moved before you could stop them.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk yet,” Jasper pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket. “But if you change your mind, call me?”

You clenched the paper tightly as it transferred from his fingers to yours, and your heart fluttered. Your mind went blank as you tried to respond. Open-mouthed and wide-eyed, you resembled a fish. Quickly, you turned away from him and walked back in the direction you came from. Your cheeks were burning as you continued to walk; thankful as you rounded the corner for not stumbling, but less enthused to see another Cullen in front of you. Alice. Again.

You knew it would continue to hurt you if you compared yourself to her; but she just looked so damn good all the time. If any of the Cullens were devastatingly beautiful, it was Alice - with emphasis on ‘devastating’. And the worst part of it was how nice she was trying to be to you. It was easier to soldier on when you could pretend she didn’t exist.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” She smiled kindly, eyebrows raised. You looked at her forehead, her skin didn’t wrinkle. It never did. She must have had some work done.

“S-Sorry, Alice,” you stammered, “I’m in a hurry.”

You picked up pace and rushed by her, taking refuge in the bathroom. She didn’t follow. You let out a sigh. You had come close to thinking again. You still scoffed at the idea that they could read minds or something, but you continued to guard your thoughts, anyway; and when you saw Alice’s eyes, one nearly slipped out. They were definitely much lighter yesterday, like chocolate - you were sure of it. Just then, they looked almost black.

It was driving you crazy. Tears began forming, but you refused to let them fall. Not over this. Not over something you were imagining. Jasper’s eyes flashed in your mind. That rich golden colour… When you’d first started liking him, you recalled Googling if his eyes were even possible and learning they were, but that they were rare; and for Emmett to share them as well was strange.

You bolted out of the bathroom and grabbed a random student passing by. She jolted from the shock of it. “Which of the Cullens are biologically related?” You sounded so aggressive, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

She chewed her bubble gum a few times and gave you a dumbfounded look before frowning at you. “Jasper and Rosalie Hale, obviously. What the hell is wrong with you?” She jerked her arm out of your grasp and shot daggers at you.

Unrelated, both with a scarce eye-colour. They seem to know what you’re thinking. They all look the same; pallid and tired-looking, yet alluring. You couldn’t stop yourself from going over the details.

You sprinted out into the parking lot, nearly knocking a guy down the stairs on your way. Before you could restrain yourself, you’d pulled a pen and a notebook out from your backpack and your hand began writing.

Wednesday. Alice, brown.

Thursday. Alice, black. Rosalie, brown. Emmett, gold. Jasper, gold.

#jasper miniseries #vampiric-daydreams #twilight fanfiction blog #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagines #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight reader imagines #reader insert imagine #reader insert #vampire fanfiction #midnight sun #twilight #jasper x reader #jasper hale x you #jasper whitlock x reader #cullens x reader

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vanishingpod · 3 years ago

Audio

Hey there from Team Vanishing Act! We’re a comedic audio drama just about to finish out our (first?) season, so there’s never been a better time to jump onboard!

We’re a self-described globetrotting mystery-farce set in the 1930s about a French magician who vanished a theatre full of audience members (and himself) for his final trick, and a thrown-together group of quirky, outlandish, and occasionally horrible group of people who are searching to find out how he did it. Also, there’s a duck.

We’ve been compared to shows like Victoriocity, Wooden Overcoats, ars PARADOXICA, and Bleak Expectations, with some of the ragtag-bunch-of-misfits-turned-found-family antics of EOS 10 and Wolf 359 thrown in for fun.

Some other fun things you might like:

🎩All the theatre kid inside jokes you could possibly want (you want zip zap zop jokes? we’ve got zip zap zop jokes!)

🎩A next-level chaotic Odd Couple duo consisting of a perpetually grumpy German set designer/director and a sunnily-dispositioned American con man who immediately decides to be his best friend

🎩A duck named Devorah who may or may not be psychic but will definitely murder you (while wearing a cute lil hat!)

🎩a narrator slowly descending into an existential crisis of epic proportions

🎩Honestly kind of a banger of a theme song?

🎩The most ridiculous accents you ever did hear

🎩A character literally named Rudyard so that in the writers room we could do our Antigone Funn impressions

🎩The line “left is just right from backward”

Check us out on our website (vanishingpod.com) or on all socials @vanishingpod! Spotify link here.

#the vanishing act #victoriocity #wooden overcoats #bleak expectations #eos 10 #wolf 359 #ars paradoxica #audio drama #fiction podcast #1930s #old hollywood

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strangeradventuresofp · 4 years ago

Text

emotions (klaus x reader)

We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals - 1

warnings : implied sexual assault, swearing

word count : 3984

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

A/N : hey so !!! i’ve wanted to write a canon fic for so long but it took me a while to establish a story line and i haven’t completely finished it yet but i hope you like this!! kinda long and it’s basically just the first episode as in introduction but i rly hope you enjoy it!!<3 xo p

On the 12th hour of the first day of October, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got eight of them.

~~~

Your eyes flashed with horror as you looked down at the man in front of you, sprawled out on the path. His limbs were mangled and the pool of blood beneath him rapidly increased as it leaked out of his body. Glancing down, you noticed that upon your shaking hands were red stains, and your mouth turned dry while you walked away, shoving your hands in your pockets. Hopefully no one would find him, and if they did hopefully no one would find your fingerprints on his skin, after all, you didn’t even remember doing it. You felt bad, perhaps he didn’t deserve to die, only be injured. Your mind battled with itself as you remember how he had touched you and cornered you into the alleyway. How his fingers dragged and raked across your flesh and grabbed mercilessly at your clothing. He deserved it.

Murdering people wasn’t new to you. You had been forced to do it when you were a child, in an attempt to create an emotional disconnect from a young age. You didn’t hate doing it. Some people deserved it. You just hated that most times you didn’t know you had killed someone; you had lost control and adrenaline consumed your entire body and mind.

The door to your apartment faced you as you pulled up short, checking every pocket for your keys, trembling still as you managed to push them into the lock after numerous previous tries. You used your elbow to push the handle down, hauling open the door with your body weight, kicking it closed. The bag you carried dropped to the floor at the sound of the door closing, and you made straight for the bathroom, ready to wash away the awful day that you had had.

It wasn’t long before you stepped out of the shower, drying your body off and changing. A towel was still in your hands and you continued to pat down your hair as you trudged into your living room, feet grazing along the wooden floor. The noise of the TV droned in and out of your ears, combing through your dampened hair.

“…Little bit of rain potentially, later in the week…” The refrigerator door opened when you pulled it, your fingers reaching out for a carton of orange juice. The glass filled as you poured in the juice and began drinking from it.

“We’re going now live to a breaking story,” you lowered your glass from your lips before dragging your tongue across them, picking up what was left as you turned towards the TV. “Moments ago, police reported the death of the world’s most eccentric and reclusive billionaire, Sir Reginald Hargreeves.” Your heart startled at the words, and you felt unsure of whether to be relieved or not. Although he was your Father, he was never a Dad to you. He had created a robot, Grace, which you were expected to call Mom, and she looked after you, because Reginald could never be bothered. You often thought of what your ‘biological mother’ would be like and maybe you would have felt more comfortable if you had never been adopted. Obviously, you knew that was untrue. She had given you away for a suitable compensation, although she had never meant to give birth in the first place. But, you really enjoyed the thought of having a completely different life.

You had hardly spoken to any of your siblings for a while. Once in a while you received a call from Diego, just checking to see how you were. Sometimes Vanya phoned but it was very rare. Allison was always too busy with her movie, you wondered if she would even turn up for the funeral. Klaus hadn’t been seen in a long time, and Luther was still on the moon. You had been close with them when you were younger, but now it felt weird to be so intimate with each other’s lives after you had all left the academy; talking felt forced and uncomfortable so you avoided it at all costs. It was going to be different again after the funeral. You would all be expected to keep in touch, something you honestly didn’t care to do. Though it might be nice to see them again, you cringed just imagining it.

Soon, you shuffled off to your bedroom, turning out all of the lights on the way there. As you lay down, pulling the blanket over your body, you sighed, pinching in between your brows before closing your eyes and willing yourself off to sleep.

~~~

The pavement scuffed your shoes as you lazily made your way from your cab to your childhood home, breathing deeply while the cold air hit your face. Just as goose bumps prickled your skin, you found yourself wrapping your fingers around the metal gate, your feet stepping up the concrete stairs, face to face with the door. Suddenly you remembered how small you still felt against the mansion’s profile. Your nose burnt as you took one last deep breath, thrusting open the entrance, stepping inside.

Your eyes immediately scanned every inch of the lobby, and they rolled as you noticed that everything was exactly the same. The chandelier still hung at the same height, gently swinging left to right, right to left. The lights were still very dim and still flickered occasionally. The windows behind the staircase still allowed light to gleam through the ornate balustrade. The pillars holding up the second floor were still separated by wooden archways. The circular table still stood in the centre of the space; its feet lay on the partially patterned floor. The rest of the floor was still filled with the ugly black and white tiles that remain dull even after being polished. Nothing had changed.

Slowly, your feet took you into the living room, your eyes darting around to scan for something different once again. The fire still roared in the fireplace. The fireplace was still surrounded by the mantelpiece, Five’s portrait dangling high above it. The couches were still the same red, the table, the stools, and the bar, even the contents of the bar hadn’t changed a bit.

“Miss Y/N.” Your head whipped around as your eyes met those of who the voice belonged to, and you smiled.

“Hey, Pogo. How are you doing?” Your question brought a smile to the chimpanzee’s face and he moved over towards you, leaning on his walking stick. He hadn’t changed, either, apart from a few tufts of hair beginning to turn grey on his chin. He still possessed a set of glasses, a red overcoat with a purple waistcoat, and a red and blue patterned tie. He owned other ties, but that was always your favourite. You leaned down to hug him, which he returned immediately, pulling away after a few seconds.

“Is anyone else here?”

“I am aware of Master Diego's presence, although the others I haven’t seen, yet.”

“Thanks, Pogo.”

~~~

“What exactly are you looking for?” Luther spun around to see you leant against the door frame of your Dad’s bedroom, with your arms folded, brows knitted together. “They’re all locked. Diego already checked.”

“No forced entry, no sign of struggle. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Diego’s figure moved past you, entering the room that Luther seemed to be inspecting, leaning down slightly to get a better look as he neared him. “Oh, you got big, Luther.”

“Understatement.” You snorted, chipping in.

“What’s the secret, huh? Protein shakes? Low carbs?”

“What do you want?” Luther frowned as his arms were brought up slightly, gesturing his confusion as to why Diego was teasing him. His brows furrowed more as Number 2 stretched for his back pocket, silence filling the room for just a moment. He held a creased, folded piece of paper in his hand, extending his arm out to Number 1.

“The autopsy report. I broke into the coroner’s office.”

“Well, that was stupid.” Your hand found its way to your hip as you stared in disbelief at him, who was now sitting down, way too comfortable. He shrugged at you, before continuing.

“Surprise, surprise, Dad’s death was… normal. Just boring old heart failure.”

“Yeah, so?” The larger boy asked as he scanned over the piece paper after opening it.

“So, stop looking for something to prove that it wasn’t.” Luther’s eyes looked over to you, annoyance clearly present in your voice. “He’s dead. That’s it. No mystery.” You pushed yourself off the door frame before walking down the hall, hearing Luther and Diego mumbling to each other still, not knowing exactly what they’re saying, and not exactly caring. They were annoying to listen to, one always trying to outdo the other. The truth was, Diego didn’t like being Number 2, and Luther liked being Number 1 too much. He always thought that because he was Number 1 it made him the leader, but it didn’t. It was something that irked all of you, but Diego felt it the most. You couldn’t stand their pointless bickering when you were children and you certainly couldn’t stand it now.

It had been a few years short of a decade since you had left the academy, but it honestly felt like you hadn’t been gone at all. You had expected some sort of a change to have been made, but then again, you expect too much. The interior design was outdated and sickening to look at. It reminded you of everything that had happened when you were children.

Stepping along the hallway, numerous paintings, all very similar, caught your eye. The famous family portraits. The first contained all of you, apart from Vanya. She wasn’t ever included in things like that. The way her eyes turned sad whenever your Dad told her there was nothing special about her broke your heart. The second was the same, excluding Number 5; taken after he had jumped through time and not returned. It had been 16 years, more or less, and he still hadn’t returned. You often wondered if he was even alive, wherever he was. It was safe to say you had a fear of losing people after what had happened to Five. The third contained five of the children, Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus and you. It had been taken a few weeks after Ben had passed – something you hated to remember; it made your entire body ache.

You peeled your eyes away from the paintings, looking down. Tears glossed over your eyes as your mind flooded with thoughts about what had happened that day. It was horrifying. The way it happened had been completely erased from your memory. It all happened so quickly. All you can remember was seeing his lifeless body spread out on the floor. Your Mom had tried to save him, but in the end, there was nothing she could have done. Pogo had sat you all down in the lounge and broke the news to you. That day was one of the most miserable.

“Y/N? Hey, are you okay?” You hadn’t even realised you had started crying; not expecting to get so emotional, it was never a good thing for you. Looking up through misty eyes, you saw Klaus, frowning instantly, moving away when he stepped towards you. “Still mad at me?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously while you rolled your eyes, angrily swiping at the loose tears that had fallen onto your face.

He hadn’t changed. His hair was the same length and texture. His facial hair looked as if it hadn’t grown the tiniest bit. His eyes were still that gorgeous green colour and were paired with slight bags underneath. He still wore those pants with the gaps in the side that you loved to wear, and the battered sneakers that you would have thought were his only pair of shoes. A bushy coat wrapped itself around his shoulders, hugging around the top of his body and the shirt he wore ended just below his belly button, exposing a thin strip of his flesh.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fi—“

“I said I’m fine!” Klaus winced, nodding slightly before strolling down the stairs, glancing up at you after every couple of steps.

Huffing, you walked into your old bedroom, lying down and closing your eyes, calming down as you focused on your breathing. You hated that it still got you so riled up after so long, groaning in frustration as you tried not to think about it. You clenched and unclenched your fists every few seconds, breathing in sync.

Children behave, that’s what they say when we’re together.

A smile slowly crept onto your face as you heard the familiar words, sitting up. It was something you and your siblings listened to often, when your Dad wasn’t around. Smile turning to a grin, you stood, moving your arms and feet in time with the music. Nothing mattered at that moment. You weren’t thinking about Five, or Ben, or Klaus. You weren’t thinking about anything, just losing yourself in the music.

I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.

I think we’re alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound.

The music stopped as quickly as it had started as everything suddenly went dark, the sound of thunder clapping so loud, as if it was outside your door. Gasping, you threw your door open, rushing downstairs as fast as you could, opening the door to the courtyard, eyes widening at the sight of blue electricity. Soon enough, your siblings joined you outside, confused looks plastered on all of your faces. Diego stood protectively in front of you, Luther by his side, Allison holding his hand.

“Don’t get too close!” Allison exclaimed, worry coating her voice.

“Yeah, no shit.” Diego replied, brows furrowing at what stood in front of you all.

“Out of the way!” Klaus came running out of the house, pushing past all of you, holding a fire extinguisher in his arms, attempting to spray what looked like a temporal anomaly, or a miniature black hole, one of the two. He rolled his eyes as it did nothing, throwing it instead, watching as it was consumed by the blue.

“What is that gonna do?”

“I don’t know. D’you have a better idea?” You reached out, latching onto Klaus’ sleeve, pulling him back to where you were standing. He looked over his shoulder, flashing you a smile before looking forward once again. Just as you clutched his wrist, a boy hit the floor, wearing a suit that was much too big for him, the electricity fading away quickly afterwards. He groaned, stood, and dusted off his suit, and your jaw dropped, feeling your heart miss a beat.

“Does anybody else see little Number 5 or is that just me?” Klaus questioned as you lunged forward, pulling Five into a tight hug, a couple of tears escaping your eyes as he returned the embrace. He looked exactly the same as he did when he left so, had he not aged? Was he permanently going to stay a 13 year old, now? So many questions raced through your mind at a lightning speed, but you really couldn’t care. Your brother was finally home.

Shortly after, you had all made your way in the kitchen. You perched on the side of the table, beside Klaus and the rest of your siblings, watching Five collect the things to make a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich, a cutting board and knife already laid out on the table.

“What’s the date? The exact date.” The boy abruptly asked, and a couple of your siblings turned to look at each other in confusion.

“The 24th.”

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.” His eyes flickered for a moment, as if in concern, but you shrugged it off after realising nobody else had noticed.

“So… Where did you go?” Your voice came out a lot more nervously than you had meant it to, afraid of what his answer would be, in case he said something bad.

“The future. It’s shit by the way.”

“Called it!” Klaus looked up at you after yelling out and you frowned, almost as if scolding him for speaking when it wasn’t his turn. As the others spoke, you watched Five intensely, with a burning curiosity about what he saw in the future, wondering how bad it could actually have been. After all, Five didn’t look like he had done too bad for himself during whatever it was that he went through. But something about him was off. His eyes looked dull, like he’d been traumatised by one thing or another, like he had seen it all. Your body shivered imagining all the things that he could’ve seen.

~~~

The rain pattered on the concrete whilst you advanced once again into the courtyard. Looking around, you noticed the statue that stood in the centre and looked to the floor, sighing as Klaus gently pulled you along by your sleeve, an awkward but genuine smile passing between the two of you. Being mad at him was the least of your worries right now.

“Did something happen?” Your mother held her umbrella, a smile plastered on her seamless face, the same smile she always wore. Her eyes glanced around at you and your siblings, whose eyes also gazed around to look at each other. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped your own umbrella tightly, angry at her for even asking the question. Your jaw clenched and your other hand balled itself into a fist before Klaus nudged you subtly and you relaxed, his eyes searching yours as a look of distress fell over his face, a cigarette hanging limply from his lips.

“Dad died, remember?” Allison tilted her head at your mother, watching her terrifyingly realistically happy face fall into one of sympathy. Diego turned to face her in alarm as her red lips turned downwards.

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

The sound of footsteps allowed you to look away from your Mom, instead watching Pogo as he joined you and your siblings in the courtyard. Luther held your Dad’s urn and looked towards the chimpanzee just as Klaus sparked up another cigarette, this one looking just as miserable as the last.

“Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.” Number 1 took a deep breath at Pogo’s instructions, waiting a few seconds before extending his arm up to grasp the lid of the urn, taking off the lid. The metal scraped against itself as Luther dropped the lid-holding hand to his side, tilting the urn 180 degrees. Klaus cringed and you could barely hold back a giggle when the ashes all fell to the floor at once and Luther awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other as Pogo started to speak, but before he could finish, he was interrupted.

“He was a monster.” Your eyes darted to Diego, knowing he was right, but wanting to hear the rest of what Pogo had to say. Klaus let out a breathy laugh and the chimpanzee looked hurt, to which you frowned in empathy. “He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego, stop.” Knowing he was right but knowing it wasn’t the time made your voice waver as you spoke.

“My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it.” Turning your head to look at Klaus, silently begging him to help him shut Diego up. He took a drag of his cigarette before flicking his eyes to you, subtly shaking his head, causing you to look around at your other siblings as your Mom said something, locking eyes with Luther for a brief moment before looking away again. “Look, you wanna pay your respects, go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.”

“You should stop talking now.” Luther warned, allowing you to snap your head up to him, watching the two of them, grasping tightly onto the bottom of Klaus’ coat, sharing a frown with Five before turning to view the scene they had created once again. “Diego, stop talking.”

“He couldn’t even stand the sight of you!” The two began to fight, and your hands tightened around the fabric in anxiety before loosening against your will, earning a look from Klaus after he had decided to egg on the fight happening before you. Trembling, you followed Five inside, whipping your body around when you heard a loud thud of something hitting the concrete, tears welling in your eyes while you watched Ben’s statue fall, hurrying inside before any tears spilt. Your feet reverberated in the empty hall, gasping as Luther came hurrying past you.

“Are you okay?” You hadn’t expected an answer from him, frowning when you saw him seizing his left arm, a cut hiding beneath his hand. Your body rotated, eyebrows puckering when you saw Diego and your mother step through the door. “What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing bad.”

“You hurt him, Diego.”

“Do you kids want to make cookies?” Storming away at your mother’s request, you fished through your pockets to find your apartment keys, shoving the umbrella on the floor after closing it, leaving as fast as you could, not caring to slam the doors once you had left. Pulling up the hood of your coat, shoving your hands in your pockets, walking away from the house you used to live in. You felt as if your feet were thundering on the pavement, afraid that if you stepped in the wrong place that you could cause the pavement to crack under the pressure.

You only ever saw your siblings at Weddings and Funerals, although you heard that none of you had attended Allison’s wedding. But, then again, what did she expect when she held it in L.A, as if all of you could afford to travel there simply for a wedding and then travel back afterwards. You had no idea why your siblings just couldn’t get on for a few hours at the very least. The tensions irked you like nothing else. You were siblings; you should act like siblings, not enemies.

~~~

Loud, rapid knocking on your apartment door woke you from your sleep and you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose before throwing off the blankets, standing, trudging over to your front door. The knocking stopped and you wrapped your hand around the handle, looking out of the peephole. Opening the door after not seeing anyone, you stepped out to look into the corridor, shrugging when no one seemed to be there.

“You should have locks on your windows.” You let out a squeal as a voice spoke out from behind you, whirling around to see your brother stood in front of you.

“What? How did you—“

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Is that blood?” Glancing down to his red-stained arm, he shrugged off your question before you frowned, standing. “Five.”

Minutes later you joined him back in your lounge, with a first aid kit held in your hands. After pulling his sleeve up, you winced, taking a few minutes to clean his wound before bandaging up his arm, closing the first aid kit as he opened his mouth to speak.

“When I jumped forward and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it.”

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thewidowsghost · 3 years ago

Text

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 10

3rd Person POV

Quirrell, however, must have been braver than Harry, Ron, and Hermione had thought. In the weeks that follow he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he had cracked it.

Every time they pass the third-floor corridor, Harry and Ron would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy is growling inside.

Whenever Harry passes Quirrell he gives him a small smile, and Ron started telling people off for his stutter.

Hermione and (Y/n) had more on their minds than the Sorcerer's Stone. Hermione had started drawing up study schedules and the two had been color-coding all their notes. Ron and Harry watch in amazement as (Y/n) launches into some complicated Potions thing at Hermione's request and the brunette begins jotting down notes.

Harry and wouldn't have minded, but Hermione kept nagging them to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Hermione snaps.

"That's not ages," (Y/n) pipes up, "that's like a second to Nicholas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminds her. "Anyway, what are you four studying for, you all ready know it all!"

"What are we studying for?" (Y/n) exclaims. "Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into our second year? They're very important, we should have started studying a month ago."

"I don't know what's gotten into me," Hermione chimes in.

Unfortunately, the teachers seem to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione and (Y/n). They pile so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It is hard to relax with Hermione and (Y/n) next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with them, trying to get through all their extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Ron bursts out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library windows. It is the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky is a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there is a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Harry, who is looking up "Dittany" in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, didn't look up until he hears Ron says, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffles into view, hiding something behind his back. He looks very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'," he says, in a shifty voice that gets their interest at once. "An'what're you lot up ter?" He looks suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," says Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St —"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looks around quickly to see if anyone is listening."Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," says Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone, apart from Fluffy -"

"Don't rope me into this," (Y/n) says, not looking up from her potions notes.

"SHHH!" says Hagrid again. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, studens aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

"See you later, then," says Harry.

Hagrid shuffles off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" says Hermione thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?" Harry wonders.

"I'm going to see what section he was in," says Ron, who'd had enough of working. He comes back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slams them down on the table. "Dragons!" he whispers. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons!Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him."

"But it's against our laws," (Y/n) comments, still gazing down at her notes, Snape had told her that he was giving her a more advanced exam than everyone else's. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709."

"Everyone knows that," Ron agrees. "It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden - anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got of wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" asks Harry.

"Of course there are," says Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles have spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth is Hagrid up to?" wonders Hermione wonders aloud.

. . .

When they knock on the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they are surprised to see that ll the curtains are closed. Hagrid calls, "Who is it?" before he had let them in, and then shuts the door quickly behind them.

It is stifling hot inside, and (Y/n) rolls up the sleeves of her shirt and Fang jumps into her lap.

"So - yeh wanted to ask me something?"

"Yes," says Harry, seeing no point in beating around the bush. "We were -"

"Not me, just to be clear," (Y/n) interjects and Hagrid glances gratefully at her.

"Wondering," Harry continues, "if you could tell us what's guarding eh Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowns at him. "O' course I can't," he says. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts — Is'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might want to tell us," Hermione begins."But you do know, you know everything that goes on around here," she finishes in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitches and they can tell he is smiling."We only wondered who had done the guarding, really," Hermione continues. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Hagrid's chest swells at the last words and Harry and Ron beam at Hermione, (Y/n) scratching Fang behind the ears.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that . . . let's see . . . he borrowed Fluffy from me . . . then some o' the teachers did enchantments . . .Professor Sprout — Professor Flitwick — Professor McGonagall —" he ticks them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell — an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?" Harry asks.

"Yeah — yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Harry knows Ron and Hermione are thinking the same as he is. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything — except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" asks Harry anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," says Hagrid proudly.

"Well, that's something," Harry mutters to the others, (Y/n) rolling her eyes. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry," says Hagrid. (Y/n) notices him glance at the fire, and she looks at it, too.

"Hagrid — what's that?" But she already knows what is. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, is a huge, black egg. She nudges Fang off her and crouches in front of the fire.

"Ah," says Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's — er . . ."

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" (Y/n) asks, studying the black egg.

"It must've cost you a fortune," Ron pipes up, crouching beside (Y/n).

"Won it," answers Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" wonders Hermione.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," says Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library — Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit — it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the eggi n the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here — how ter recognize diff'rent eggs — what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

Hagrid looks very pleased with himself, but Hermione doesn't look pleased at all. "Hagrid," she exclaims, "you live in a wooden house!" But Hagrid isn't listening. He is humming merrily as he stokes the fire.

. . .

So now they have something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he's hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighs, as evening after evening they struggle through all the extra homework they were getting. Hermione had started making study schedules for Harry and Ron, too. And it was driving them nuts.

Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig brings Harry a note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: It's hatching.

Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut, but Hermione wouldn't hear of it.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?" Ron asks.

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing -"

"Shut up!" Harry whispers.

Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. (Y/n) turns to give him a glare and the blond scampers off, reminding (Y/n) of a little ferret.

Ron and Hermione argue all the way to Herbology and in the end, she agrees to run down Hagrid's with the other five during morning break. When the bell sounds from the castle at the end of their lesson, the three of them drop their trowels at once and hurry through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greet them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out," Hagrid ushers them inside.

The egg is lying on the table. There are deep cracks in it. Something is moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it.

The five draw their chairs up to the table and watch with bated breath.

All at once there is a scraping noise and the egg splits open. The baby dragon flops onto the table. It isn't exactly pretty, Harry thinks. It's spiny wings are huge compared to it's skinny jet body, it has a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.

It sneezes, a couple of sparks flying out of it's snout.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmurs. He reaches out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snaps at his fingers, showing pointed fangs. "Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!" exclaims Hagrid.

"Hagrid," says Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid is about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face - he leaps to his feet and runs to the window.

"What's the matter?" (Y/n) asks.

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains - it's a kid - he's runnin' back up ter the school."

(Y/n) bolts to the door and looks out. Even at a distance there is no mistaking him.

Malfoy had seen the dragon.

. . .

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the last week made Harry, Ron, Hermione and (Y/n) very nervous. They spend most of their free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

"Just let him go," Harry urges.

"I can't he'll die," Hagrid says. "He's too little."

They look at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week, smoke furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There are empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," says Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mummy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron mutters in Harry's ear.

"Hagrid," says Hermione loudly, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bites his lip. "I — I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

Harry suddenly turns to Ron."Charlie," he says.

"You're losing it, too," said Ron. "I'm Ron, remember?"

"No — Charlie — your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

"Brilliant!" exclaims Ron. "How about it, Hagrid?"

And in the end, Hagrid agrees that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

The following week drags by. Wednesday night found Hermione, Harry, and (Y/n) sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appears out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's Invisibility Cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

"It bit me!" he says, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There is a tap on the dark window.

"It's Hedwig!" (Y/n) says, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"

The six of them put their heads together to read the note.

Dear Ron,

How are you? Thanks for the letter — I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.

Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's till dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love, Charlie

They look at one another.

"We've got the Invisibility Cloak," says Harry. "It shouldn't be too difficult - I think the cloak's big enough to cover three of us and Norbert."

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other five agree with him. Anything to get rid of Norbert - and Malfoy.

There was a hitch. By the next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey - would she recognize a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

Harry, Hermione, and (Y/n) rush up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed.

"It's not just my hand," he whispers, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me — I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me — I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

The other three try to calm Ron down.

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," says Iliana gently, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sits bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

"Midnight on Saturday!" he says in a hoarse voice. "Oh no — oh no —I've just remembered — Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

The others didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep.

. . .

"It's too late to change the plan now," (Y/n) murmurs to the others. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl."

"This could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert," Harry adds. "We'll have to risk it, and we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

They find Fang sitting outside with a bandaged tail when they go to tell Hagrid, who opens a window to talk to them.

(Y/n) crouches beside the large boarhound, scratching behind Fang's ears.

"I won't let you in," Hagrid puffs. "Norbert's at a tricky stage — nothin' I can't handle."

When they tell him about Charlie's letter, his eyes fill with tears, although that might have just been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot — jus' playin'— he's only a baby, after all."

The 'baby' bangs its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry, Hermione, and (Y/n) walk back to the castle, feeling as though Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.

. . .

They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came to say good-bye to Norbert if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do.

It was a very dark, cloudy night, and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid's hut because they'd have to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against teh wall.

Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," says Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate comes ripping noises that sound to (Y/n) as though the teddy is having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobs, as Harry, (Y/n), and Hermione cover the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and step underneath it themselves."Mummy will never forget you!"

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew.Midnight ticks nearer as they heave Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another— even one of Harry's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier.

"Nearly there!" Harry pants as they reach the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Then a sudden movement ahead of them makes them almost drop the crate. Forgetting that they were already invisible, they shrink into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other, ten feet away.

A lamp flares.

Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, has Malfoy by the ear. "Detention!" she shouts. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you —"

"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter and (Y/n) (L/n) are coming — they've got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on - I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seems the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air, did they throw off the Cloak, glad to be able do breathe properly again. Hermione does a sort of jig.

"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"

"Don't," (Y/n) smiles warmly at her sister. "You know that's my thing."

Chuckling about Malfoy, they wait, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks come swooping down out of the darkness.

Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They show Harry, Hermione, and (Y/n) the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all help buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harry, (Y/n), and Hermione shake hands with the others and thank them very much.

At last, Norbert was going . . . going . . . gone.

Harry and Hermione slip back down the spiral staircase and (Y/n) grabs the Invisibility Cloak. She darts down the stairs when she hears a noise coming from the end of the hall and throws the Cloak over Harry and Hermione.

As the figure steps out, Filch's have looms suddenly out of the darkness. "Well, well, well," he leers at (Y/n). "You are in trouble, aren't you.

Harry and Hermione watch in shock and horror as Filch grabs (Y/n)'s upper arm and begins dragging her down the corridor.

Word Count: 3574 words

#hermione granger x sister reader

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godess-ofthe-underworld · 4 years ago

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Love Finds A Way (sequel to See You Again) {A Harry Hook x Reader story}

Part 3

At 6 o'clock Hadley rushed her way from the art room to Evie's dorm. She was late to help with Chad. She busted into the room seeing Chad already standing on the pedestal, adorned with his royal blue and fake fur cape.

“I'm so sorry Evie! We ran late with art club.” She said as she dumped her books on the bed and went to stand by Evie who was pinning fake fur around the edge of the cape. “ What can I do?”

“ can you pin the rest of the fur around the bottom?” Evie smiled

“ Of course!” Hadley skipped to the table, said hi to Doug and grabbed a pin cushion. She crouched down behind chad and started to pin.

Chad would not stop moving as he danced around on the pedestal. Hadley began to grow frustrated as the pinning was taking longer than it should have. Evie could tell her friend was getting upset and tried to get Chad to settle down.

“What about peacock feathers? Yeah I bet you know one is gonna have those at cotillion.” Chad exaggerated.

“Chad!” Evie gained his attention and he finally stood still long enough for Hadley to be able to stand up and finish pinning up the sides. “ When I look at you, all I can think of is… king!” Chad gasped and Hadley had to hide her snicker with the pins she was holding between her teeth.

“And fake fur.. fake fur says it all!” Evie gestured to the cape.

“ Loud and clear!” Doug deadpanned causing Hadley to giggle harder.

Just as Hadley pinned the last inch of fur to the top of the cape Jay appeared in the door way calling for Chad.

“Why did Coach make him Capitan instead of me?” Chad questioned. “ I'm obviously better.” He paused before saying “ King Chad though. I do rather like that. You know who else would like that?”

“Who?” Hadley mumbled through the pins in her mouth.

“Audrey.” He choked.

“She would” Evie smiled.

He sniffled as Jay called for him again.

He hopped down off the pedestal and before he could get out of arm's reach, Hadley plucked the cape from his shoulders.

The three chuckled as Chad left with Jay.

“Someone is clearly having some trouble dealing with his break up with Audrey.” Hadley chucked as she sat down at the sewing machine to start attaching the fur.

“I've been doing the numbers and after we collect from all the girls for their gowns and Chad's cape…” Doug stopped typing and showed Evie the screen. Her eyes widened.

“Hadley you need to see this!”

When Hadley saw the number on the screen she let out a short screech.

“No wonder people work!”

“What are we going to do with all this money?” Evie looked to Hadley who shrugged.

“Well, I think in the next few years, you'll be able to afford that castle you always wanted.” Doug laughed.

“Just as long as it has a best friend wing!” Hadley laughed as she went back to sewing.

Just across the ocean on a small island a boy of seventeen clad in a red leather overcoat, white ripped up t-shirt, black pants, pirate hat and wielding a silver hook; strolled through the streets. Some people ran as he neared them and others just watched and glared as he took something only to toss it to the side not a moment later. Harry Hook, son of Capitan Hook, whistled as he made his way through the Isle, looting as he went. He sauntered his way down the wooden planks of the worn out dock leading to Ursula's Fish and Chips.

He stopped outside as a girl in a tattered dress sat on the edge of the docs by the door fishing. Using his hook he picked up a string of three dead fish glaring at the girl who shrunk away from his icy gaze. Harry slammed the saloon doors open, making the crash loudly against the wall, and placed his sword in the 'sword check’ barrel. As he made his way towards the back of the shop he threw the fish at a passing waitress who looked after him in disgust. He threw a crew member out of his way as he jumped over the long table reserved only for Uma's crew.

Speaking of Uma, she came out of the back clad in a dirty apron and her pirate gear carrying a silver tray lined with “food”. Harry flicked the small TV on behind the table as Uma dropped the tray in front of him.

Uma growled as the screen showed Mal being interviewed from that morning.

She picked up a pile of mush from Harry's tray and threw it at the TV.

“Poser” she sneered, shaking her hand of the mess.

“Traitor!” Harry yelled leaning against the table watching the screen.

When no one reacted, Uma grew agitated .

“Hello?!”

After that, everyone lining the long table threw something at the screen, some missing and causing Harry to duck away before it could hit his head.

“What I wouldn't give to wipe the smiles off their faces. You know what I mean?” Harry announced as he wiped sludge off the screen with his finger.

Uma turned to Gil, son of Gaston, the only person who hadn't thrown anything and glared at him.

“Gil!” He jumped when Uma yelled in his ear. “ You wanna quit choking down yolks and get with the program?!”

Gil swallowed his mouth full of food “ yeah. What they said.”

Uma huffed out a laugh “ that little traitor. Who left us in the dirt”

“Who turned her back on evil.” Harry added.

“ Who said you weren't big or bad enough to be in her gang.” Gill added getting more food from the serving window.

Both Harry and Uma stopped what they were doing to glare at the blonde haired boy.

The whole crew looked stunned as Gil brought up the reason for a long lasting feud between Mal and Uma.

“Back when we were kids. Come on you guys remember, she called her shrimpy and the name just kind of…”

Uma held Harry back as he was about to lunge at Gil.

“Stuck.”

Uma rolled her eyes as Gil shrunk back and turned back to Harry.

“ That snooty little witch. Who grabbed everything she wanted and left me with nothing”

“ No. She left you that sand box and then she said that you could have the shrimp…”

“I'm gonna need you to stop talking!” Uma shouted slamming her fist on the table, interrupting Gil again.

“Look, we have her turf now. They can stay in Bore-adon…” Harry pointed at the TV.

“Harry, that's her turf now! And I want it, too. We should not be getting her leftovers.” U a growled. “Son of Hook, Son of Gaston, and me, most of all, daughter of Ursula. What's my name?” Uma turned to Harry.

Harry pulled the hat off his head and kneeled down and whispered “Uma.”

“What's my name?” She turned to Gil.

He choked down the mouthful of food and mumbled “Uma?”

(Uma)

This is all hands on deck

Calling out to lost boys and girls

I'm gettin' tired of the disrespect

We won't stop 'til we rule the world

It's our time, we up next! (next, next)

Our sail's about to be set (set, set)

They ain't seen nothing yet!

Tell 'em who's in charge

So they don't forget

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Say it louder!

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Feel the power!

No one's gonna stop us

Soon the world will be ours

What's my name?

What's it! What's it!

Say it loud!

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

All eyes on me, let me see 'em

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

What's it! What's it!

Say it! Say it!

(Uma-ah-ah-ah!)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

Uma!

I'm the queen of this town

I call the shots, you know who I am

I don't need to wear no fake crown

Stand up to me, you don't stand a chance

It's our time, we up next! (next, next)

My crew's as real as it gets (gets, gets)

The worst is now the best

And leaving us here

Will be their last regret

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Say it louder!

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Feel the power!

No one's gonna stop us

Soon the world will be ours

What's my name?

What's it! What's it!

Say it! Say it!

[Harry]

You know what they say

Bad girls have all the fun

Never learned how to count

Cause I'm number one

Ready here we come

We always get our way

It's a pirate's life, every single day (Hey!)

She's the captain, I'm the first mate

Enemies seasick can't see straight

Call 'em fish bait, throw 'em on a hook

Uma's so hot they get burned if they look

(Uma)

It's all eyes on me, let me see 'em

I see your eyes on me boys, hey!

You know what my name is

Say it, say it louder!

Hook me!

(Ha, ha!)

Ho! Woah!

Come on!

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Say it louder!

What's my name?

What's my name? (Uma)

Feel the power!

No one's gonna stop us

Soon the world will be ours

What's my name?

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

All eyes on me, let me see 'em

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

What's it!, what's it!

Say it! Say it!

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

Ooh, say it louder!

(Uuuuuuma, Uuuuuuma)

Ooh, say it louder!

What's it! What's it!

Say it! Say it!

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

(Uma, Uma, la la Um-)

(Uma, Uma, la la Uma)

Uma!

Uma stood up from her throne on the table. As she walked across the table laughing with the rest of the crew, a large purple and black tentacle snapped at them from the back of the restaurant causing them all to duck and scream.

“Shut your clams!” Ursula's voice sounded through the small space.

“Mom!”

“These dishes ain't gonna wash themselves.” Ursula ignored her daughter and retreated the long tentacle back.

“It's fine. It's fine. Because when I get my chance to rain down the evil on Auradon, I will take it! They're gonna forget that girl. And remember the name…”

“Shrimpy!” Gil shouted and slammed his fists on the table.

Uma looked to Harry who nodded his head and escorted Gil from the shop.

When Harry walked back in the TV was still running, showing Mal from that morning, only now there was a girl blocking Mal from the camera. Harry stopped and let a long breath out as he stared at Hadley, her hair on fire like the rest of her.

“Miss you everyday, haddie”

He shut the TV off and went to resume his rounds around the isle.

Summary: You would think that six months in Auradon would do any villain kid good. Well, not Hadley. After the events of the Coronation, Hadley's mood took a downward spiral; and for one reason, guilt. She'd broken a promise and left her best friend on the Isle of the Lost. How will she handle seeing him again when certain circumstances bring her back to the Isle? Will she finally tell him what she really feels?

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in Descendants. Hadley and the plot between her and Harry are mine.

Tag list: @unded-bride

WOOOOO! Part 3!!! hope you enjoyed this part please like and comment for part 4. As always you can read the illustrated version over on my Wattpad (@phelpsphan)! please message me if you would like to be added to the tag list!

#harry hook x reader #Hades #daughter of hades #mal jay carlos evie #harry hook

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