#oh my goodness you romping around in the snow with him........... yeah...... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sconnie-doesnt-know · 3 years

Text

Ransom’s Hallmark Moment

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 4300

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut including unprotected sex (imagine that birth control), Ransom's bad attitude and Ransom being soft (what?!)

A/N: written for the Hoelentine's Day Challenge hosted by @chrissquares @amythedvdhoarder and @drabblewithfrannybarnes

My giftee is Heather @hevans-angel and I hope I've been able to fulfill some of your wishes you sweet lady!

So much appreciation for @stargazingfangirl18 and @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me and being so supportive and creative! Now, on to the fic!

Aside from the date on the calendar, it feels like a typical Sunday. You got a lot done around the house, allowed yourself some time to relax and baked enough for a small army. Wiping the last of the crumbs away, you proudly look over the pile of treats ready to be given out the next day at work - all sweet and sprinkled and festive in pink and red. Spending the day baking, relaxed and comfortable with old episodes of ‘Bewitched’ on for company is just what you needed before starting another week. Plus, you aren't really alone. There's always Andy.

The wind suddenly blows hard, shaking the windows. You glance outside at the darkened sky, noticing the heavy sheets of snow falling to the ground.

“Shit,” you hiss, making your way to the back door and opening it, “Andy!”

You wait a moment and shout again, “Andy! Come on in!” followed by a series of whistles.

Nothing.

“Oh no, no no please no, not again,” you whine, heading back into the kitchen to find your phone already ringing. You scrunch up your face in a grimace as you answer as sweetly as possible, “Hello?”

“Missing something?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s here of course. If you don’t get here soon, I might call animal control.”

“You always say that, Ransom, but I know you like him. I’ve seen the water bowl and that old tennis ball by the front walkway.”

“That’s from the housekeeper.”

“Mmhmm, sure. You know I’ll be right there. I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are, see you soon angel.”

You scoff at the nickname. He’s always using a sweet one on you, while calling your dog something far less endearing like hellhound, or fleabag, or even Cujo. The first time he said that one, you looked over at your Lab/Husky mix, with his ears perked at attention and tongue lolling out from his dopey dog smile and laughed like you hadn’t in a long time.

Ransom was less amused.

For some reason, when you moved to the little cottage house set back into the woods, your dog decided to treat himself to adventures which almost always ended with him in front of the wall of windows at Ransom’s home smearing his nose, and drool and mud all over the panes of glass.

That first pickup was not encouraging. You’d been out searching and going down the long driveways of your neighbors to search until you found him at Ransom’s, sitting and thumping his tail against the ground and staring at Ransom through the window, who for his part, stood with his arms crossed and scowling down at your dog.

That was the first time he told you to keep him contained or he’d call animal control.

You gave him your number, begging him to call you instead if it happened again. After a few weeks the promise of calling animal control was more of a joke than a threat.

Half the time you were already on your way over, having noticed the dog had taken off, but the other half, it was a grumpy call from Ransom, complaining about being harassed by some wild beast. Apparently the ability to spin a tale was a family trait.

By the time you got there, Andy would usually be tired out from his little journey and be waiting for you to leash him, allowing you and Ransom to get caught up in conversation. And so began an awkward-sometimes tense-sometimes flirty almost-friendship with the man. You were equal parts grateful and pissed at Andy, because of course he would go out of his furry little way to make an ass of you in front of the most handsome man you’ve seen in real life. Tall, broad-shouldered, stoic and reserved, plus cocky to top it all off - the man was checking boxes left and right.

Weeks later, Ransom was still those things, but also sarcastic, witty, a bit playful and very charming when he was in the mood. You caught the appreciative looks he gave your body when you approached (not that he really tried to hide them), and you allowed yourself moments to linger on his features as well. Your little conversations on his front walkway almost always turned flirty, at least until Andy made his impatient presence known by tugging at the leash or barking to get your attention.

You pack up some cookies, cupcakes, and truffles you made to make some sort of peace offering, grab the leash, and head out to retrieve your little trouble-maker. The thick, wet flakes are heavy, and make the journey down the wood-lined roads slower than usual.

You pull up, squinting through the falling snow, unable to see Andy in his usual spot. You see Ransom walk through the house and to the door, waving you inside, so you hurry from the car, head ducked down to try to avoid the chill and wedge your way in, shaking away the snow once you feel the warmth inside.

“He’s in my garage,” he tells you in lieu of an actual greeting, moving away as you shake off the snow.

“What? You let him inside?”

“Not inside-inside, but yeah. I know better than to leave a pet out in that. Christ. And you know, I keep telling you, princess if you want to see me, you don’t have to keep sending that mutt over as an excuse.”

“Yeah, sure. But what a waste of all that training,” you quip back. It’s almost a routine at this point.

You roll your eyes when he gives you an over exaggerated, proud smile. You immediately want to roll your eyes again because of how good that stupid smile looks on him, too. Your gaze can’t help but travel up and down the length of him, long legs, slim hips that go up to those broad shoulders, all encased in a heavy sweater...with holes torn at the lower hem and at the stomach.

Without thinking, you rush forward to grab the frayed yarn cringing at the idea of needing to replace the expensive garment, “Oh no, did he do this? I know he gets jumpy when he’s excited.”

“No, he didn’t,” he wipes at the front of this stomach. “It’s fine. It’s just like that.”

He can’t even say anything else before you start with more apologizing and rambling, “I am so, so sorry. I swear I only left him out there for a few minutes so he could play in the snow, and he’s been so good. And here,” you thrust the package at him, “I made some food and I hope you have a sweet tooth, and I know it doesn’t make up for the inconvenience and-”

“What’s this?” he asks, shaking it slightly and breaking up your word vomit.

“Uh, it-it’s just like some cookies and stuff that I made.”

“What for?”

“For Valentine’s Day. I made a bunch of stuff because at work we’re doing a thing tomorrow, so-”

“No, I mean why are you giving these to me?”

“Oh,” you hadn’t thought you would need to explain, “Um, neighborly kindness? Gratitude? Because it’s Valentine’s Day?”

“Huh. Does this make you my Valentine?” He laughs and turns on his heel, walking away toward where you can see is the kitchen area.

“For some reason, you don’t strike me as the sweet and cuddly Valentine type,” you call after him, hearing him chuckle in response.

You wait in the foyer for what feels like too long, just listening as he moves around, opens and closes cabinets and goes on like you’re not there. You look around uncertain what you’re expected to do since you usually don’t make it past the doorway until you decide to pull off your boots and hang your jacket over a chair set near the door. You follow the path he made into the kitchen.

“Sooo. Like I was trying to say, I don’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, “I will just grab Andy and head on home.”

“You really wanna drive with that going on?” he gestures to the window. When you look, it’s practically a blizzard and your car is covered in a fresh, thick layer already.

“Shit,” you rub at the side of your face, nervous at the idea of navigating the roads, but just as anxious to not irritate the man staring you down from across the counter. “Not really. Where’s Andy? I wanna check on him.”

He points to a door down the hall. “Garage is through there.”

You make your way through the house with your jaw clenched, unsure with what you might find knowing that Ransom’s not exactly a fan of dogs. So opening the door he pointed to and finding your dog curled up on an old tarp with that familiar worn-out tennis ball, a full water bowl, all cozy and warm inside the otherwise empty garage is not what you expected at all.

Your dog lifts his head, tail thumping against the floor as you approach, but he seems worn out from his romp through the snow, so you let him settle down after making sure he’s alright and head back to Ransom in the living room. A small smile in place of your grimace from a few moments before.

“The garage is heated,” Ransom tells you from his seat on the couch. “Figured he’d be alright in there. Can’t do much damage.”

“That’s...that’s really great.” You’re caught off-guard by the thoughtfulness of it. “Thanks for setting him up. I’ll just wait until it slows down and head back out, don’t want to mess up any plans you had.”

He laughs at that, hard and loud. “No, in fact you and the mutt gave me the perfect out from a family thing.”

“Oh really, don’t let us keep you.”

“Oh no, I’m too busy being a hero during the snowstorm,” he answers dryly, letting silence hang in the air for a few moments afterward. “Drink?” he offers.

“A hero? That’s the excuse you’re giving them?” You try to wave off the drink offer, but then he points back outside.

“I think we’ve got some time on our hands. And yeah, makes for a great story, doesn’t it?” he chuckles to himself.

You glance back to the wall of windows, seeing nothing but swirling white and sighing, “Sure, might as well. But just to let you know, Andy might not be thrilled that you’re using him as an excuse.”

He smiles and gets up from the sofa to pour you each a glass, then turns back and holds yours out to you, “I know a girl, I think she might be willing to put in a good word for me.”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin and sit on the sofa when he does.

A little while goes by and despite the somewhat awkward start to the situation, he’s not bad company. Andy is still content with his set-up, nearly ready to tuck in for the night when you check on him again later. When you return, Ransom’s opened the box of goodies, happily making a dent in the whiskey dark chocolate truffles you piled in there.

“So, you’re sure we’re not interrupting anything? No lady or ladies or even gentlemen you planned to entertain?” You ask as you settle back onto the sofa, closer to the center. Ransom had ignited the fireplace while you were up, dimming the lights and letting the orange flames illuminate the space in front of you.

“Will you drop it already? Nothing aside from the usual family obligation to show up, deal with passive aggressive bullshit, then some outright aggressive bullshit, and watching the show when it all implodes. I am happy to let a pretty girl and her big, messy dog give me an excuse to stay home.”

You laugh, trying to brush off the compliment thrown in there, “Hard to believe you want to miss out on all that. Sounds like a real special time.”

“Very special,” he drawls. He wipes some crumbs off his fingers as he shakes his head before adding, “Trust me this is much better.” He tosses his arm over the back of the couch, letting it fall on your shoulders and force you to lean a bit further into him.

“Yeah,” you mutter as you look down to your feet and fumble a string of syllables of incomplete words as you try to remind yourself to not read too much into what he’s saying.

“Oh, come on.” He picks up the slack in the conversation when you still don’t manage to say anything else for a few moments, leaning into your space as he breaks the silence. “So, I finally have you all to myself and you’re gonna be shy for me?”

You look up at him, eyes wide and heat rising in your cheeks and chest. “What?”

The hand not wrapped over you reaches out and pushes your chin up, closing your mouth which dropped into an ‘o’ of surprise. His thumb slides up to trace at the pout of your lip.

“Please, baby girl. Neither of us is very subtle. I don’t really do romance, but we’ve got a fire going, we’re stuck in a snowstorm, and I’ve been wanting to get you all to myself since that mutt first showed up over here. If that isn’t some panty-soaking Hallmark crap right there, then I don’t know what is.”

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh right along with you. The tension has shaken loose and your smile is uncontrollable. It’s ridiculous - the scenario, his words, that he can read you so well, that he isn’t wrong.

“Hard to believe you don’t have women knocking down your door with all that to offer.”

“Just one woman, and her very stupid dog.”

“Hey,” you start in offense, but still move in when he does, smiling into the kiss. It’s chaste and soft for brief seconds before lips part and your tongues meet. His hands waste no time to pull you closer, tugging you along and making you shift on your knees until he pulls you over him to straddle his lap.

You’re grabbing at everything you can, bunching his thick sweater in your hands, then sliding up and down over his shoulders and biceps, appreciating how solid he feels beneath you. Until finally, you rake your fingers into his hair, ruffling it a bit and then grasping it tightly at the crown to pull his head back, drawing a short moan from his throat.

He tilts back into the pull and you lift yourself up higher on your knees to keep your lips together. When your hands finally let go, allowing him to ease the arch of his neck, you take your time sliding your body down against his torso, pushing your core over the hard bulge in his slacks.

“You gotta ride me, baby.” It sounds like an order, not an option.

Yes. You aren’t sure if you say it out loud, but you feel the air leave your lungs in a rush and your body quivers at just the thought. You don’t care if this is quick, or rushed, or frantic - it’s exactly what you want rightfuckingnow.

His palms rest at the edge of your hip bones, fingers spread and digging into your sides and just slightly pushing and pulling you to get some pressure where you feel that he’s hard.

You reach down, covering his hands with yours and pull them up your sides under your sweater, not so much encouraging as demanding that he move things along. He gets with the program quickly and pushes the sweater up, separating your lips long enough to take it off then pulling you back as quickly as he can. His hands find their own way to the clasp of your bra, making quick work of removing it as well and eagerly touching every inch of bare skin.

When you both start to pant, breaths coming out hard and shaky, he moves his lips to tickle the skin on your cheek, down to your jaw, along the curve there and onto your neck. He sucks at the sensitive skin, nibbling and dragging his teeth when he gets focused on a single sensitive spot that makes you whine out loud.

Your head hangs down to the side, letting him work his way down the column of skin there and sinking into the loose, ragdoll feeling as your body just gives in to every sensation of pleasure. His arms squeeze you against him while he keeps pushing his hips up and into you, teasing you with hints of pressure where you are starting to feel empty and needy.

“Yes,” you gasp, definitely out loud this time. “Yes,” over and over, every time he does something whether it is with his tongue, or his fingers - his blunt nails digging into the sides of your ribs to hold you tightly in place, or the twist of your hips as he lifts his own up against you.

It’s so much, and you’ve only just lost your shirt. It’s not worth waiting anymore. Your mind is set now to just get what you want.

You push away from him. He slowly comes to, eyes glazed and unfocused, a low mutter of “the fuck” slurred from his lips. Before he can reach for you, you lift off him. Your legs are shaky, but you stand as steadily as you can, undoing the button and zipper and pulling down your jeans and panties in a single push.

He watches for a second, then reaches behind him, gripping the neck of his sweater and hauling it up and over his head. He reveals almost exactly what you were hoping for - solid, defined muscles and smooth skin - but there’s more. Hair across his pecs and in a line down the center of his abs, and freckles dotting everywhere on his fair skin. You want to caress and trace every one, run your fingers along imaginary paths and press against him - but it can wait. It’s got to wait.

Impatiently, you kneel, kicking the legs of your pants away and shuffling forward to reach for his belt. His hands settle at his side, flexing, but letting you do what you seem to be compelled to do. You fling the ends of the belt apart and pull at the button and then the zipper, already salivating at the mingling scent of his cologne and sex.

He straightens his hips, lifting from the couch to allow you to shove his boxers and pants down his legs, his cock pulling with them, then bouncing back up once freed. It throbs, slightly bobbing with a rush of arousal and you can’t help but admire the thickness of it, the swollen head that glistens with smeared pre-come.

Heat burns over your skin, and when you look up at Ransom, he’s clearly feeling the same. His cheeks are flushed in patches of pink, his lips red, swollen, and parted as he lets out short, shaky breaths, hair hanging loose and disheveled. It’s more than you hoped for, and it’s disgusting how perfect he looks.

As much as you want to tease, to keep this view while you swallow him down and taste him, your pussy throbs. You promise yourself again to take more time with him later, to lick and suck and taste him the way you want, but you can’t resist at least a taste. You grab his shaft, leaning in to swallow him deeply - just once - and draw a shocked moan from him before pulling off and pushing up from your knees, humming at the taste of him.

“Damn, princess. I thought I was going to ruin you, but fuck, you’re good.” He reaches forward as you’re moving up, his hand grabbing at the back of your head to guide you. He pulls a bit at your hair when you’re back up to the couch and spreading your thighs wide over his. His free hand reaches between your legs swirling through your wet, sensitive slit and pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit.

“Later,” he promises, “I’m gonna taste your pussy. Gonna lick it all up.” He pulls his hand away and sucks away your juices as they drip down his fingers. The promise is so dirty it makes your breath shake in anticipation. You stare into each others’ eyes, admiring the wreckage between you and moving without guidance to seat yourself on top.

You gasp when you finally feel the hot, hard line of him pressed against your pussy. It feels so thick, and you’re eager to feel the stretch of him pushing inside. You lock your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts together, nipples peaking as they drag along the coarse hair on his chest.

The lips of your pussy spread over his cock, coating him with your slick. His cockhead rubs over your clit, making you shudder and suck in stuttering breath, and that’s it. You can’t take it anymore.

“Can I have your cock?” Deep down, you know you don’t really need to ask.

“Yeah,” he adjusts his hips, scooting himself out a little further to give you more room to settle against him. “You’re gonna fucking ride me, princess. Come all over me.”

“Uh huh,” you breathe out, high and airy.

He takes one hand off you, using two fingers to angle his cock toward you. You lift up on your knees, tipping your hips until you feel him against your entrance. You pause for a brief second to ready yourself, then sink down, taking him all in at once.

The stretch makes you groan, the static-like buzzing mix of ache and pleasure spreading all over and making you throw your head back and deepen the moan.

He huffs out a few quick breaths. “That’s it, oh that pussy is so good. So fucking good, princess,” he mumbles.

Then his hands are back on your hips, warm against the bare skin and strong when he digs the tips of his fingers in to pull you further down, “This cock filling you up? Huh?”

All you can manage is another high-pitched, “Uh-huh,” while you start to roll your hips, barely lifting as you shift back and forth to grind against him, your walls still squeezing him tight.

“Come on, let go, baby,” he whispers, his mouth tight against your ear. Your arms loosen their grip around his neck and you place your hands instead on the muscles flexing at the tops of his shoulders.

You move your knees to get them comfortable and then finally push yourself off him, sliding and gasping as you feel the head of his cock catching just at your entrance again, and after another silent beat, you slide back down, taking his hard length again.

With the space given, he dips his mouth to your breasts, swirling and suckling at your nipples, Harsh, fast sucks followed by quick nips when he catches the hard peaks in between his teeth until you gasp and moan. Only then does he switch it up, his tongue gently rolling over the bud, soothing the stinging ache.

All the while you roll your hips and the burn, the push, the fullness of him inside you is drugging. Your eyes fall closed as you focus on the steadily growing tingle low in your belly.

You start to chase it with slow, dragging strokes, easing up only to drop down and have him bottom out deep inside. It builds fast, making your thighs burn and knees ache as you try to keep your position; one knee has managed to wedge into the corner of the couch and the rhythm needed to build your orgasm conflicts with the concentration needed to keep yourself steady.

“Just take it, babygirl. I got you,” he whispers, feeling your body getting tired on top of him.

He shifts his legs, placing his feet on the ground and pushing up into you, letting you settle on his lap and rock yourself forward and back while his cock stays buried in you. He adjusts his hands to rest just at your tailbone, pressing you steadily against him and giving the pressure needed to your clit when you press against his pubic bone.

Cries start to escape from you, first quiet and breathy, but then building as the air gets pushed out in hard breaths. Your body inches closer and closer to that release, your body hot and burning and there’s a slight moment of too much just before it hits...and then it’s rushing over you - all liquid fire and bliss. You clamp down over him, legs straining over the tight muscles of his thighs.

He pushes up into you, his hands pressing harder at the middle of your back to keep you moving through your release as he works to find his. He hisses through clenched teeth, broken praises coming out on hard breaths.

“Yeah...There...Righthere...God...Fuck.”

When he curls into you, nails digging into your soft skin and breathing heavy against your chest, you know he’s right there.

“Come for me,” you whisper.

“God - yeah!” With one final, hard thrust, he does. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside you when he releases, his hips jerking up slightly to keep pushing into you while the tense features of his face soften with relief.

For a moment it’s nothing but panting breaths and the racing beat of your pulse in your ears. Then it’s slow, dragging hands across naked skin and muscle, soothing the tense muscles and tickling sensitive spots and whispering praise to the man beneath you while he hugs you tight to him.

His voice is low and quiet as he asks, “Is the mutt gonna be mad that I stole his Valentine?”

“You like me,” you smile against his neck and tease him with a sing-song voice, “And you like my dog.”

“I like you,” he agrees. “The dog’s okay, too.”

“Does that mean Andy should come harass you again on Friday night?”

“I’ll even get a dog-sitter.” He says with a smirk. “Let him know that 7 would be good.”

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ramble-writes · 3 years

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So here comes another valentine's gift for the glorious @franks-mixtape ! If y'all remember the 2 Franks that are brothers and werewolves that I wrote some time ago, this is going from that again because I thought about it randomly and felt like I then needed more of it sooooooo yeah! If you DON’T know, the gist is being that his Frank and my Frank are half brothers. Father being a werewolf to both which resulted in his Frank being a halfling, while mine is whole werewolf due to different mothers. 19 years apart until both came to Ormond where they met up and figured out they’re brothers. So there ya go!

Warning(s): probs just standard cussing, buuuut that’s it lol

Don’t forget to like, reblog, and follow if ya wanna see more! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

A Wednesday. Worst day for the 14th to fall on. Especially since it’s in the middle of the school week. Frank James Morrison sat there in the last class for the day, English. The teacher decided to focus on how Valentine’s day started from some dude who got executed in Rome or some shit. He wasn’t paying attention, finding it useless to learn about. Emerald green eyes lazily gazed around the room till they landed on his brother’s russet hair.

Frank Fenik Morrison was there a few seats to James’s left, amber eyes were trailing over the printed paper the teacher had passed out previously. As much as he was into literature, if he wanted to learn history on a subject of a man who was killed for trying to teach his religion to the Romans, he would’ve in his history class.

Fenik really was just idly taking his pencil to scribble a random design on a blank spot on the paper, the teacher’s voice seeming muffled in the background. Darkening some lines on the drawing, he felt a nudge in his mind, like someone nudging him with their arm. He lifted his eyes up and flickered to the side where gemstone eyes met and locked.

‘Dude. This shit is boring. Can’t we just.. skip out on this?”

‘I wish. But we can’t or shit’ll go down. Plus, they’ll know it’s us since we have the same exact name, minus the middle name.’

This made the raven-haired Frank sigh out loudly. He slightly scrunched his face up at hearing his other half chuckle both from a distance (thanks to his heightened hearing) and in his mind. Since figuring out the two had the same father, name, preference in tattoos, music, and other things, it made for the two getting along pretty easily. It resulted in a sort of bond to form. Since their father was a werewolf, it resulted in an animal like bond to form, that ran deeper than a standard sibling bond. Emotions, feelings, and thoughts were connected. It resulted in a mind link to have basically silent conversations.

‘Jesus fuckin Christ we have thirty minutes left of this bullshit. Feels like it’s taking foreverrrr!’

Fenik had to cover his mouth to stifle the laugh that bubbled up. Hearing him complain like a child made for lightening the boring mood. The internal complaining actually helped pass the time till the bell rang. Kids instantly got up with grabbing backpacks and shoulder bags alike and hurried for the door as the teacher called out that their homework from 2 days ago is due by Friday. Most likely, no one paid attention.

The two Morrisons waited at the bottom of the steps of Fairview, waiting on the other three of their odd pack in the snow. It didn’t take long for Julie, Susie, and Joey to come out. Julie adjusted her coat she has on as she hurried a bit down the stairs, being mindful of the snow-covered steps as she went over to the russet-haired Frank and planted her lips to his. This drew a very pleased growl from him as he kissed her back. Thankfully, those dreaded words to the holiday weren’t uttered.

“A’ight sluts! What’s the plan for today for shit to fuck up?” James asked, the name making Joey chuckle. “I’m lookin’ for chaos to burn down the grossness I feel from all this love shit.”

“I second that. There’s this jackass that’s been trying to feel Susie up in history when it comes to turning in work,” Julie huffed out. This made Joey look at the pinkett with concern on his face.

“And ya haven’t said anything?” Susie looked away at the tallest’s question which made him sigh. “Sus, ya gotta tell us when this kind of stuff happens..”

Her head only lowered before she pulled her hood up to hide her face. Joey had let out a sigh and draped an arm over her shoulders before looking at the other three. Amber, emerald, and brown eyes met and they all shared the same thought.

‘Trash the fucker’s place’

To cut things short, finding where the guy lives wasn’t hard. They did the standard: Egging the house, toilet paper thrown and draped over trees and parts of the house. But the brothers took it an extra step by managing to get up on the house with wadded up toilet paper, where they then shoved it down the chimney to block it up since smoke was coming out of it. And they were out as quickly as they came with a job well done.

They all split to head to their homes, hearing distant sirens meaning the house called the fire department which was sweet music to them. Of course, the russet-haired teen snuck over to Julie’s place after her father passed out for their... usual time together. Raven, as another nickname to call James rather than by his middle name like Fenik, was laying there in bed till about midnight he heard his name being called through that mind link.

‘Thought you were busy bangin’ up Jules.’

‘Shut up and get your ass out here.’

‘Fiiine. But I still wanna hear about your adventures in the pussy caaaave!’

James snickered when he bet the other was rolling his eyes outside, but he got out of bed to get dressed in his usual letterman with an extra layer underneath since it is midnight and it’s still winter. Out the window he went and onto the ground below where his brother is standing and waiting.

“Alright, whatcha want butt sniffer?”

“Don’t. Anyway, thought it be nice to hang out since school has been riding out asses with work to get us “prepared for college” which I could care less for.”

The raven-haired teen nodded. “Yeah. It’s a lot of bullshit. Ffffuck I hate being a senior.”

“I feel that,” Fenik agreed with a nod of his head. As usual, the two headed into the forest since it is their escape, and the only way that the wolves within the both of them can be let out. It’s a nice reliever since a lot of the times going out was never an option and it would make them feel cramped.

Usually, they don’t speak when out in the forest unless they do their usual practice. But for now, it was nothing but a run. Fenik in full wolf with James keeping up at an easy stride. Surprisingly, there was no clouds which let for the moon to shine bright in the sky and reflect off the snow, practically lighting their path.

They didn’t know how long they’ve been running, but they did come to a stopping point when the two Morrisons came across a big tree. It was there they stopped and flopped down at the base at the big roots, James leaning on Fenik and a hand running through the rust-colored fur in slow strokes.

“Ya know... I’m a bit jealous you can shift and I can’t..”

“Seriously? I dunno. I’d be pretty happy with just the heightened senses n shit.”

This made for emerald eyes to look at the wolf, which in return, amber looked back at the halfling. Concern was felt on both sides. Concern for how one felt left out of things, and concern for how the other didn’t care if shifting was a thing or not. James scooted himself a bit close to be able to wrap an arm around the back of the head of the large wolf and pressed his forehead to his, letting silence overtake the quiet between he two of them.

Something happened since one moment the raven-haired teen was small in comparison to the wolf with clothes on, to suddenly not and... the same size. It was like his body just relaxed for him to suddenly shift, but the realization got for the two to jump up onto their paws and look at each other.

James now was suddenly the same height, same build. Black fur made him look like a shadow o the white snow. Vibrant green eyes stood out like unknown lights in the darkest parts of the forest. The two were quiet, before sounds of excitement left them and they became nothing but giant mounds of fur and limbs with barks and yaps leaving them.

What felt like hours of nothing but romping around in the snow, they both flopped down panting with tongues hanging out of open mouths and tails swishing in the snow. Two sets of gemstone eyes gazed up at the night sky, the moon nothing but a white orb to the side of their vision.

“I hate valentine’s, but this? This is the greatest fuckin’ gift nature let me have haha!” James boofed out, letting his paws stretch out in front of him. It felt like all his limbs were sore from being contained, and finally was allowed to be out.

“Oh trust me. Being this way is heavenly. Feels like what freedom from the system should be. And now that you can shift, we can do this a hell of a lot more. And no one can stop the hell we’ll raise.” Fenik let out a chuff, a canine version of a chuckle. The black pelted one chuffed as well before rolling onto his side and laying close to the rusted pelt one and pressed close.

They were content like that, black mixing with rust, emerald and amber. It took only a nudge from Fenik to say that it’s best they get going. James got up and shook the snow from his fur, waiting for his brother to get up. Both standing, they trotted off to the edge of the forest where they shifted back to their human selves.

“This weekend. Can... we go running again? And... maybe teach me some wolf stuff since now I can shift?”

“Hell yeah man! I’ll be waiting ‘round seven. Sound good?”

James nodded with a slight smile before it fell. There was hesitation, but Fenik could feel it and brought his brother close for a hug. He melted into it and hugged the other back. They stood like that for some beats before breaking it off and headed to their homes with goodbyes through the link. Days and nights for now on were gonna be different, but they were gonna be hella enjoyable and that feeling of being left out vanished. Everything felt right, just as it should be.

#frank morrison #wolf frank #brother franks au #franks-mixtape #legion dbd #dbd #dead by daylight #my writings #HERE'S TO YOU YA TWINK HAPPY VALENTINE'S

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kattahj · 4 years

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Thoughts on Sword of Destiny

I finished reading Sword of Destiny weeks ago, but never got around to posting thoughts, in part because commenting on every story took some effort, but also because... well, a lot of it is complaining, and I don't want to rain on anyone's parade. But OTOH, there's a part of me that really really wants to gripe, and I did enjoy some of it. So, thoughts.

Story 1: The Bounds of Reason

I have already talked about how the descriptions of Tea and Vea made me feel like I was inside teenage Andrzej Sapkowski's locker room. There's some other not-great stuff too with Yennefer - she gets tied to a wagon, has her shirt ripped off, and the dragon baby seeks comfort in her intimate parts, all of which has Jaskier going "nice!" STFU Jaskier, you're intolerable in this.

(Note to people wondering why I'm still calling him that, I've primarily read the Swedish version, which calls him Riddarsporre, and if I used that name no one would know who I'm talking about. Calling him Dandelion feels weird, since it's neither his original name nor the one in use in the translation. So Jaskier it is.) I even got the English e-book and started taking screencaps of all the passages in this short story that made me roll my eyes over the sexism, and after 15-20 something screencaps I went, "This is way too long for a tumblr post." So now they're just lying around.

Apart from that, it's a nice story. Some things are the same, others very different. There are more people around, which is fine, but I think it was the right choice to cull the herd a bit for the show. There's more explicit discussions around hierarchies, what makes a hero, what makes a monster, and so on.

Interestingly, Geralt and Yennefer's plotline is rather reverse to what it's like in the show. In the book, she arrives pissed as FUCK at Geralt and claims she'll never forgive him, yet by the end of the story they're cozy with each other again. Which of course also means that there's no quarrel between Geralt and Jaskier either. In fact, Jaskier arrives separately and is all, "Oh, hey Geralt, I thought I'd hang around and write a new ballad," and the rest let him stay because, as they put it, he's not of any use but he's not any bother either.

I guess the way it went down in the show was in order to return Yennefer and Geralt to separate storylines for the finale and make sure Geralt is properly isolated too. (And properly grumpy - as someone pointed out, the episodes including Jaskier tend to be lighter than the others, because that's the way he sees them.)

Story 2: A Shard of Ice

In which Yennefer is fucking Geralt and Istredd on alternate days, and Istredd wants to close the relationship and tells Geralt to fuck off because he's an emotionless Witcher, and Geralt pouts. Then Istredd wants to fight to the death, and Geralt accepts, and Yennefer dumps both of their asses, and Istredd wants to fight to the death anyway, and Geralt is like, "uh, no, I'm not here to help you commit suicide" and leaves. Also there's some Snow Queen imagery shoehorned in that really could have been used better.

Yeah, this was pretty much my least favourite story of the lot. I don't like love triangles at the best of times, and this wasn't even a particularly good one. Plus, any time that guys think they can decide between themselves who gets to date a girl, they deserve to be dumped. So I was all, "good for you, Yen, go find someone better." Though of course she won't.

I also started wondering if Yennefer's based on one (or more) of Sapkowski's exes, because there are so many times where Geralt's all, "Why does she act in such a way!?" and I'm all, "I bet if you two ever TALKED PROPERLY you'd find out!"

Like. Damn. I know people complained that their love story in the show was sudden and forced, but I ship them more there than I do in the books so far.

Story 3: Eternal Flame

I quite liked this one! It's a fun little romp and expands nicely on the concept of dopplers, as well as introduces the Nilfgaardian religion. I have a feeling that I've seen the concept somewhere before, where a person imitating a merchant does a better job doing business than the merchant himself. But if it's based on a fairy tale I can't remember which one.

There is some groan-worthy stuff between Jaskier and his ex-girlfriend, but that's so minor it doesn't mar the story much. (I have to say though, book Jaskier is SUCH an asshole, and yet book Geralt is so much nicer to him. It really makes me question Geralt's judgement.)

Story 4: A Little Sacrifice

This one started with some pretty shitty stuff with the little mermaid (showcasing the recurring themes of a) boobs and b) women making demands that can be easily dismissed as unreasonable), but then we got Essi Daven, who was a good, likeable character. I enjoyed reading about her. Even Jaskier was more tolerable in this story! I was all, OMG Sapkowski, you're actually writing a woman well, go you...

...but then of course she instantly fell in love with Geralt (cue Juliet's gay friend: "You met him SUNDAY!") and we're told that she wears his pearl until she dies of smallpox a few years later. Which, of course. Of COURSE a girl who has flirted with the great Geralt of Rivia can't just get over him and live her life in peace. Oh no, it HAS to be disappointment, disfigurement and death.

So ultimately, the bits I liked made me even grumpier about the bits I didn't like. But still, Essi was fun while she lasted.

Story 5: The Sword of Destiny

This is the first one where I actually don't have any complains about Sapkowski's writing of women. The dryads are okay, their story is interesting, and the interactions between Geralt and Ciri are very cute indeed. It's rather sad that we lost those interactions in the show, though it would have been hard to include them with the way it was written, since it all depends on neither Geralt nor the reader knowing who this little kid is. (Though I'm pretty sure even unspoiled readers could guess.) Still, it makes the destiny feel more natural and not just the "family at first sight" thing we got on the show.

I basically only have two gripes, a small one and a big one.

The small one is that it's VERY HARD to take the dryads seriously when part of their Elder Language is barely disguised English slang. I don't know if this was a thing in the Polish edition, or if it happened in the English translation and was then carried through to the Swedish one, but it snaps me right out of the story when they say things like "Bloede arss!"

The big one is that either Sapkowski has no idea how children mature, or Geralt doesn't, because no WAY is Ciri ten or close to it in this story. Now, Geralt is presumably a big guy, so it's not impossible to think that he could carry a smallish 10-year-old on his shoulders... but I have a hard time seeing a 10-year-old allowing it. Or walking around snotty without caring. Or just in general talking and behaving the way Ciri does here.

To put things in perspective, 10 years old is one year younger than Harry Potter is in The Philosopher’s Stone, and two years younger than Meggie Folchart in Inkheart. The only way I can make ANY sort of sense of Ciri in this story, is by thinking that Geralt, being so old himself, has no concept of children's ages, and she's actually five or six.

Which would mean she's also being betrothed at five or six, but hey, Scandinavian Queen Margaret I was betrothed at age four, and I wouldn't put it past Calanthe. If she can sell her granddaughter at ten she can probably sell her at six too.

Story 6: Something More

Listen, I soaked up Geralt's injured hallucinations on the show, and the book is no different. Some of the dialogue with Visenna is exactly the same. I'm purring. The circumstances are different, but both versions work well. I like the way the transitions were done between reality, memory and dream, and the ending is very sweet. I have no complaints. :-)

#the witcher #sword of destiny #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla of cintra #jaskier

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fredsweaslies · 3 years

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the gardens that grow between us | chapter seven

● word count: 1325

● fic index

JUST A FEW DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, Paloma left Hogwarts to visit her brother in Mexico alongside her parents. Dolores was staying for the holiday break, seeing as she begged her mother to stay just so she could soak in the holiday magic at school. Draco stayed behind as well, but his two minions Crab and Goyle weren't staying for the break, Dolores didn't care to ask Draco as to why.

That morning, Dolores sprang up from her bed and saw the pile of presents at the foot of her bed. The festivities were a bit somber without Paloma by her side ripping through gifts with her. But the noise of tearing from her other two roommates gave her company. Dolores gave the two other girls a chocolate frog, her niceness shocked them and the girls dropped a few candies on her bed in return.

She received a crocheted scarf with Slytherin colors that was handmade by her mother, along with a steaming box of Christmas tamales that made Dolores squeal with excitement. The next gift was from Paloma, who gifted her a forest green beret, with "D.R.", Dolores' initials, embroidered inside. After cleaning up the shreds of paper that covered her bed, she grabbed her gift for Draco and bounded excitedly out of her dormitory.

There, she saw Draco who was also heading out of the boy's dormitories.

"Draco!" Dolores said excitedly. "It's too early for shouting." He said raspily, she had taken that he had just woken up. Dolores frowned. "I got you something!" She said, the two had moved over to a couch that was normally occupied by students at any given hour, but with the vacancy of more than half their house, it sat empty.

Draco looked puzzled as Dolores pushed the small box into his hand, he said nothing. He opened the box and took out Dolores' gift. She had given him a plain steel, black ring.

"I noticed you wear a lot of rings, so..." Before she could finish, Draco interrupted. "I didn't get you anything." He said quietly. "Oh, that's okay!" Dolores told him sincerely. "Should I have gotten something for Paloma?" He asked. Dolores shook her head, "I don't think she cares." She laughed.

Draco then placed the box on his lap and slid the ring across his slender, pale fingers.

"Thank you," Draco mumbled. "Oh! And one more thing..." Dolores trailed off and ran into the girl's dormitory, coming back with the box of tamales her mother had given her.

"My mom makes these every Christmas, they're tamales." She told him, opening the box and causing it to erupt with steam. "What?" He questioned, leaning in slightly to look in the box. "They're so good, take a bite." She pulled out a tamale from the box and placed it in Draco's hands. He smelled it and then took a hesitant bite. He chewed for a bit and finally swallowed.

"Good?" Dolores asked, smiling as she studied his face for a reaction. He nodded yes and continued to take another bite. "I knew you would." She laughed and closed the box up.

"Wanna go to breakfast?" He asked with food in his mouth. "Not really, I ate a few tamales already. Wanna go for a walk?" "It's freezing cold outside," Draco muttered. "Come on, just a lap around the castle." Dolores pleaded.

Draco groaned and finished the last few bites of the tamale. The two headed into their respective dorms and came out dressed for the bitter cold outside. Dolores was donning the scarf her mother made and the beret Paloma got her. Draco was wearing a gray knit turtleneck sweater beneath his heavy snow jacket.

The two stomped through the snow, finding students making snowmen and throwing snowballs along the way.

"What else did you get for Christmas?" Dolores asked, her face was buried in her scarf and her nose was bright pink. Her curls were now littered with bits of snow. "Some new boots from my mother and some Bulgaria Quidditch things from my father." Dolores didn't know much about Quidditch so she didn't even bother to further that conversation. "Are you close with your parents?" She asked earnestly. The two finally settled to sit in front of a large fir tree near the Quidditch pit.

"Of course I am." He mumbled, he started to pat some snow that was beside him, his pale fingers seemed to fade into the white of the snow, "and you?" he continued.

"I'm close to my mom, yeah." Dolores said somberly, Draco shot his head up at her, "and your father?" "My dad passed away when I was young." She gave him a weak expression and start to pack a snowball. The corners of Draco's lips fell, "I'm sorry...I didn't..."

But, the snowball Dolores pelted into Draco's chest interrupted him. Draco's eyes were filled with anger, Dolores giggled and shot up, preparing for his retaliation. He quickly packed an even bigger snowball and launched it into Dolores' back. The force of the large snowball and her foot getting stuck in the snow sent her flying face-first into the snow. Draco gasped and ran carefully through the snow to check on her. He grabbed her shoulder and flipped her over, but yet another snowball was thrown by Dolores onto his face. She started to laugh hysterically, her face covered in snow.

"You little -" He growled, wiping his face rid the remnants of the snowball. Dolores continued to gasp for air through her laughs. "You...You should have..." She wheezed, "Seen your face..." Tears started to stream down her face. As Draco stood over her in the snow, he carefully examined every crease and crinkle of her laughing face, getting lost in her childish joy.

"What?" She had sobered up at Draco's careful expression.

"Nothing." He answered softly, looking staring down at her. She saw him and he saw her, in a strange way Draco felt vulnerable. He balled his fists and shot his head around the empty piece of field they were in, the space was barren with no students in sight. "Lay in the snow!" Dolores ordered, kicking his ankle with her foot.

Draco was glad there was no one in sight as he laid next to Dolores, shoulder to shoulder. Draco never wanted to get up. He wanted to lay there next to Dolores for the next few hours, days, weeks...

He didn't know what this feeling that he was feeling was. His heart felt full and the warmth of Dolores' arm next to his made him strangely nervous. It was something that he had done plenty of times; bumping into Dolores as they walked to halls or even getting close to her face to hear what she was saying in the midst of murmuring students in class. But, there was something different about being in the snow, a strange intimacy in laying in silence without fear of someone seeing him with his guard down.

"You okay, kid?" Dolores asked. Draco flipped over to the side where she was and met her face. He nodded yes. "Do you mind if we go inside? I swear my hands are going numb." She laughed and sat up, shoving her hands into her jacket. Draco sat up as well and nodded. Dolores stood up first and grabbed for Draco's hand to help him up. Draco felt his stomach lurch.

He grabbed for Dolores' hand, helping him up from the snow. Even though her ungloved hand was freezing cold, he didn't want to let go. Even though her hand was freezing cold, there was a strange warmth from her he swore he could feel. As she let go of his hand, he felt bitterly cold once again.

The two powered through the thick snow and made their way to the castle. To Dolores, it was a simple romp with her friend, something she had done time and time again with Paloma when they were kids. But to Draco, it meant something more. He just wasn't sure what it was.

◀︎ chapter six ☆ chapter eight ▶︎

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #oliver wood x oc #draco malfoy x oc #fred weasley x oc #ron weasley x oc #draco malfoy fanfic #fred weasley fanfic #ron weasley fanfic #*myfics

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thesmalltowngal · 5 years

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Snowbaz 11- Green-Eyed Simon

Otp Prompt #11: Simon walks into their room to see his enemy with a bloke, which should be fine. They’re enemies. So then why does Simon feel so… jealous?

I wrote this in a rush last night, so it’s not my best, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! 😂

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. My brain can’t even comprehend what in the bloody hell I just witnessed. I was just walking back from classes to Mummers House to grab a different tie for dinner, (I accidentally spelled mine into a snake) even though I just hang out with Penny until it’s time to eat. When I opened the door, just minding my own bloody business, I saw Baz shirtless, which wouldn’t have been so bad had he not been with another bloke. Another shirtless bloke. They were snogging on Baz’s bed, laying down. This, of course, opened a whole new slew of questions; Is Baz gay? Does he have a boyfriend? Does he have another person to plot with? And how didn’t I know?

But at the moment, I was of course too flustered to think of asking any of these things, so instead I just yelped, “Oh! Baz! Aleister Crowley, so sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just leave you to it then,” When I started talking, he seemed to notice me and sat bolt upright, face flushed (he must’ve just eaten) and lips puffed. I tried to ignore the way my heart hammered so hard I could hear it, and how sweaty I had gotten almost instantly. I’m sure I was even more flushed than he was (being that I’m human and all) as I ran away as fast as I could and slammed the door behind me- tie long forgotten.

Now, here I am, nervously fiddling with my shirt collar while I eat with Penny. “I thought you were going to get a new tie.” Penny furrowed her brow and she asked me through bites of her roast beef. I’m not really paying attention, though- Baz just walked through the doors looking flustered and thoroughly shagged. His hair was a mess (falling all over his face) and buttons of his shirt were still unbuttoned. I notice he has a tie in his hand (my tie) and that he’s walking right towards Penny and I. He stopped right in front of me and held my tie out in front of him while he kept adjusting his crumpled clothes.

“Forgot your tie, Snow,” He sneered at me. I snatch it from him and he walks away to the food line. I have to rip my eyes from him when Penny raises an eyebrow at me. Think, Simon I have to tell myself. He’s your enemy. You don’t care about who he snogs.

“Simon, what was that about? So you were by the room, but you didn’t get your tie?” I try to answer her, but she just keeps on talking. “And what was going on with Baz? Now he looks like he got some…” She stops mid sentence and I can tell she’s just realized something. (Or she thinks she has. I’m not sure she really figured out anything). “Oh… oh. Simon! Good for you! Ugh, finally. I swear you two were just oblivious for the longest bloody time-”

“What are you talking about, Penny?” I interrupt her. She cocks her head and looks at me, clearly confused.

“Well you and Baz, of course! You finally got together, yeah? I mean, you come to meet with me looking positively flustered and then Baz walks in here with your tie and looking properly shagged. And the fact that you’ve both had the most bloody sexual tension for the past seven and a half years. Aleister Crowley, I’m surprised it took you this long to figure it out!” I stare at her, dumbfounded. Baz and I are enemies. We have been for years! What is she talking about?

“Wh- what? No, Penny… Penny. Baz and I hate each other, and you think we’ve just had a romp in the sack?”

“Oh, so hate sex then. I see. Juicy!” She cringes as she soaks in her choice of words. “Er- interesting.”

I sigh frustratedly. Why does she think that Baz and I would ever do something like that? “No, Pen. I was going to our room to get my tie, just like I told you. But when I walked in, he was with a bloke. Like with a bloke, Penny. And I got flustered seeing my enemy like that with someone, so I ran away. They’re probably plotting together now. We’ve got to be on high alert. In fact, maybe we should find the bloke and split them up…” I trail off as Penny looks at me like I’m a bloody idiot.

“Okay, so Simon?” I nod my head at her, prompting her to go on. “You’re jealous, you git. It’s so painfully obvious. You’ve never thought of Baz with anyone before, so you didn’t have to worry about it. Now you’ve found him in a… compromising position, and you don’t know what to do with yourself facing the fact that Baz literally exudes sex. The guy may be an arsehole, but he is a walking sex house. And he’s gay, apparently. Which means, Simon Snow… you’ve finally realized that you have a shot.” I look over at Baz, sitting down with Dev and Niall and I try to see him in a different light (which isn’t too hard, apparently). A light where he’s not my enemy, but just a boy that other people may find attractive. I guess he has nice hair. And nice lips. Great cheekbones. A sharp jawline. Plus his eyes are this lovely shade of grey… Yeah, nope, I’ve thought about that before.

“I don’t know, Penny…” She purses her lips at me (I swear sometimes she thinks she has to be a mother figure for me- she does a bang up job with it) and raises a single eyebrow. Could I like Baz Grimm-Pitch? “I suppose you may be right… but he was with another bloke. What could I do about that?”

She thinks for a moment before pressing on. “Simon, he likes you. That’s painfully obvious as well. But you’ll never know how he feels if you don’t ask. Just take a risk, Si. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Said by literally everyone before something terrible happens.” I counter. She shrugs, saying I have a point but she’s done with the conversation for now. What is the worst that could happen? If I ask him in our room, he can’t bloody well hurt me- he’ll be cast out, not me. If he rejects me, I might just die of embarrassment or depression or shame, but it’s fine. Instead of thinking of all of the things that could go wrong, I try to think of all of the things that could go right. He could say he likes me back. Maybe he’ll have us lay down and he’ll snog me just as he did with the other bloke. Aleister Crowley, I must be insane to want to snog the guy who I’m destined to kill.

When I get back to our room after dinner, I see that Baz is already there, lying on his bed and working on homework. He just sneers at me and goes back to what he’s doing. I try to ignore the way my heart falls when he ignores me. I don’t quite know how to approach this, so I just go to sit on the edge of my bed, facing Baz.

After a few moments of awkward silence, I spit out, “So, you’re gay, then?” I mentally slap myself, and I wish that it was physically possible to shove words back in. He guffaws (a real guffaw- I didn’t know people in real life could do that) and moves to get up.

“Yes, Snow. Anything else you’d like to tease me about?” So it’s true. I can’t stop looking at him. He really is quite handsome. Actor-handsome. Does he really think I would tease him about that? He doesn’t just sound annoyed. His voice is laced with… hurt, maybe?

“I wasn’t… was that your boyfriend that you were with?” I can’t help it when a little bit of disdain drips into my voice. He looks at me, one eyebrow quirked just like Penny’s was.

“Why the sudden interest, Snow?” He growls. (Actually growls. So dramatic).

“I was just… curious, I suppose,” He turns to leave, but I grab his rest, silently pleading with him to stay here with me. He looks tired and confused. I decide to take a risk.

I lean into him, just a bit, and lace my fingers with his. “Simon, what are you doing?” My name coming out of his mouth throws me for a loop (a wonderful loop), and it seems to surprise him, too. Like he wants to push those words back in. I wish he wouldn’t; I quite liked it.

I listen to Penny’s words inside my head and decide to take a chance. (Taking a chance on Baz. Who would’ve thought). I lean forward and tentatively press my lips to his (To be honest, I almost want to fast forward to the part on the bed) and his mouth works against mine immediately. His mouth opens to mine as soon as my lips touch his- like my mouth is the key and he’s just been waiting to be unlocked. His mouth is cold to the touch, but everything inside of me is on fire under his touch. My hands wind through his hair, and he’s wrapped his arms around me, pulling me as close as I can possibly get.

It takes everything in me to push away for just a moment. “Wait… but the bloke that was in here earlier-”

“Was nothing to me. I just needed to get over you, Snow,” I smile at him, but before I can say anything, he envelopes me into a kiss for a few more moments. When he finally pulls back, he smirks and says, “Though I suppose I just need to get under you now…” I gasp and swat him on the neck. I mean, I agree whole-heartedly, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Well, I suppose we can arrange that…” I wind my hands in his hair again, pulling softly. He bites his lip in a way that should be illegal. “I guess you could say that it should be… e-rectified…” He bursts into laughter and I can’t help but join in with him. I love making him laugh, though I don’t know why he’s laughing quite so hard. When he’s got a grip on himself (not like that), he looks at me like I’m an extra-special idiot.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He pauses for a moment before he finally answers, all of the love in this world glinting in his eyes.

“Because we match.”

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aweebwrites · 5 years

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Celestial Influence 7 pt2

Part 1 Of This Chapter

_________

"I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna come back." Cole says cheekily and Kai huffed.

"At least we know it works." Kai says, placing his hands on his hips as he looked at his friends.

They all shared a look before they vanished in plumes of sand, mist, snow and gold. They returned moments later and Nya narrows her eyes.

"Hey. Why haven't you told us about this before?" She asked, looking between Jay and Lloyd.

"We kinda had our hands full with a lot of stuff if you can recall." Lloyd shrugs.

"Oh right." Kai says, surprised he somewhat forgot about that.

He could never forget what had happened but it wasn't in the forefront of his mind like it had been for the longest while. It was… Strange. Good strange.

"So. What's next on the list?" Lloyd asked and they all blinked at him.

"You're the head honcho. We should be the ones asking you that." Jay pointed out.

"Oh. Right." Lloyd says with a sheepish grin. "In that case, we wait." He says and they all immediately knew what he meant.

"It's not guaranteed it worked Lloyd. Our powers may not stretch that far." Zane reminded him.

"Yeah. I mean, it's a whole nother realm after all." Jay added.

"The only thing that isn't possible for us right now is that which we haven't thought of. It's just a matter of being patient." Lloyd says, tucking his hands into his pockets as he headed towards the Monastery.

"Is this something I should know about?" Garmadon asked his son as he walked by.

"You will soon." Lloyd hummed as he headed towards his room, content to read his comics until it was time.

Meanwhile, the other ninja shared a look.

"I guess we'll have to trust him and wait." Nya says and they all nodded, following after him.

"What do you think that was all about?" Garmadon asked Wu, both brothers content to enjoy the fresh air of the outside.

"Wait and see." Echo says as he got up, Tai-D beeping curiously in his arms as he followed after his brother, smiling once Zane offered him one.

___

Hours passed uneventfully with Zane making large snowflakes for Echo to marvel at, Kai and Cole training outside, Nya using her powers to see what kind of new technology she could create, Jay playing video games and Lloyd meditating outside in the meditation area. Kai grunts as he pulled off a spin kick, the blow connecting solidly to the side of Cole's head that made the larger male stumble to the side but he only stood straight again, rolling his shoulders as if he was never hit.

"You're really built like a brick wall." Kai huffed and Cole smirked.

"Not to brag but I did stand up to the giant stone warrior after taking him head on." Cole says proudly and Kai laughed.

"Of course you did." He says, amused as he and Cole called it quits for today.

"Hey Lloyd-" Cole was cut off once he picked up something.

Both he and Kai looked to the sky at the same time, watching as seconds later, a vortex opened overhead. They weren't surprised at who came through. Not in the slightest. They were just amazed it worked.

The synced roars of the formerly deceased Ultra Dragon sounded as it circled over head, landing shortly after in the large training yard.

"It worked! Rocky!" Cole yelled, rushing over to hug one of the four heads the dragon has.

Cole was rewarded for his hug with eager nudges and licks that had him laughing up a storm.

"Woah! It worked!" Jay yelled as he ran out, jumping midstep so he could land on Wisp's head, hugging the dragon he missed so much. "Oh man you don't know how much we missed you guys!" He yelled as the Ultra Dragon wagged their tail happily.

"Flame! I've missed yah!" Kai grinned then laughed as he was nudged hard enough to leave him toppling over.

"Shard!" Said ice dragon head perked update the familiar voice then roared eagerly yo see Zane quickly making his way over, hugging his snout immediately.

"Warms your heart, doesn't it?" Nya says to Echo who watched with wide eyes, having never seen a dragon before.

Wu and Garmadon whom were also witnessing the reunion watched marveled as they interacted. There was no doubt about it. That dragon is indeed the very same Ultra Dragon from past, its soul brought back from the Departed Realm and its decayed body restored.

The Ultra Dragon spent a few moments to reconnect with the original Ninja before turning to Lloyd where he was still meditating somehow. The others let them go, standing back as they walked over to where Lloyd was, grins still present on their faces.

It was great seeing them again but the Ultra Dragon, all of their individual dragons as one had always belonged to Lloyd. He's the one that missed them the most after all. The Ultra Dragon walked up to Lloyd then stood behind him, waiting to be acknowledged. It took a moment but Lloyd does come up from his meditation, smoking as he looked over his shoulder at them.

"Hey boy…" Lloyd says softly then stood, facing the large Dragon that stood before him.

He walked forward then reached both hands out, petting two of their four heads, smiling wider as they purred, leaning into his touch. He couldn't resist. He hugged one of their snouts tightly, heart filled with happiness. It felt as if everything he's ever wanted, he can finally keep. Friends, his father, UD… He hasn't felt this happy in… Ever. The world around bum reflected his happiness, flowers blooming anywhere there was soil, the sky clearing up, revealing a clear afternoon sky and a brightly coloured rainbow stretching from both ends of the sky. His friends watched with grins on all of their faces. They've never seen their leader, their brothers this happy before. It was a good look on him. And in a way, everything they've went through, all the destruction and loss, all the constant fighting, all of it was worth getting to this point. Garmadon walked over then, resting a clawed hand on his son's head and he grinned up as his father, green eyes bright with joy. It was enough to melt the coldest of hearts. Garmadon only smiled and hugged his son, his happiness contagious.

Yeah, today's a good day.

______

Loud clangs echoed through the brightly lit volcano, the bright glow of magma creating a large, winged shadow against the wall of the volcano, the shadows hand wielding a hammer, bringing it down repeatedly. The shadow belonged to whom nearby villages and towns called the God of Fire. Kai wasn't so sure about that title bit they kept calling him and all his friends gods. In fact, the term god was universally used by everyone in Ninjago. It's just, most consider them evil, vengeful gods whom will bring Ninjago to ruin if anyone so much as met their eyes. The nearby settlements knew that wasn't true but they weren't very cozy with him either. They were wary and that was understandable. Expected even. Though he can't complain too much about it. Because of their wariness, the Forest of Tranquility that held his Fire Temple and where his dragons play and grew was left alone, considered his territory. No-one so much as walked close to the forest itself, fearful of both him and his dragons. Especially his 5th dragon. A massive four headed beast that could swallow man in one bite. Or so the tales say. In reality, Solaris, Heath, Flare and Spark would never harm a fly without them proving themselves threatening. And his fifth dragon wasn't his to begin with. It was UD, Lloyd's dragon. He just liked to visit, with or without Lloyd to play with and help raise his Ninjago-borne kin. Kai was perfectly fine with UD playing babysitter. It gives him a moment for himself. Plus watching then romp and frolic was a heartwarming sight.

Right now, he was working on a new weapon. A sword to be exact. He's made weapons like this for the other elemental masters before. They weren't too keen to take them but they didn't push, knowing well enough that they relied on their powers more than they did weapons. They didn't want to run the risk of offending or angering them further after all. Not that Kai and the rest of the Pantheon would ever strike them down for something like that as everyone outside of their small family had believed. The elementals would use them on their own either way. Shade was most stubborn for reasons they knew and understood but even he had to wield them when facing tough enemies.

Kai lifted the bright red glowing sword then ran his fingers along it to make sure it was properly made. He nodded at it and put out the heat it held, leaving a dark silver coloured sword in its wake. He set it down on the weapons rack he had embedded into the side of the volcano thanks to Cole. Those are his own swords he kept for the sake of keeping them. He couldn't make such enriched iron ore go to waste after all. He wiped his hands into his smith's apron as the wings behind him flexed.

"Come on Solaris. Enough shadow play." Kai says with a smile as he closed the panel then looked at her from where she still had her wings opened. "Today's my day for observation and patrol." He says, heading out, taking off his apron and tossing it aside.

Solaris gave a low whine as she followed him and Kai huffed.

"Cheer up. Today's your day to come with me." He says lightly as he reached across to run his hand along her neck as they walked, Solaris much taller than she was just a few weeks ago, much like the rest of their siblings. They'd be big, UD had told him once. He didn't care much for some, as long as they were happy and healthy.

"Kai!" The ninja paused at the entryway of the temple that connected both the temple and the volcano's main chamber.

Said entryway also connected to the path to the Underworld. He looked back then grinned to see Cole, God of Earth himself making his way towards him, his sole dragon he decided to make not too long ago next to him that held the name Bolder.

"Fancy seeing you here." Kai teased lightly and Cole huffed.

"Going out on patrol?" Cole asked as he came to a stop before him.

"Yeah. Care to join?" Kai asked as Solaris nuzzled Boulder in greeting.

"Sure. I was gonna let Boulder stretch his wings a little anyway." Cole shrugged and Kai nodded.

"Alright. Then let's go." Cole says and Kai lead the way, their dragons following after them.

Their dragons were too young to carry their weight for long but they were great company. This is what their day consists of. Scheduled patrols, spending time with the small families they've made on their own and the even stronger family they all made together. Walking out into the open, Kai takes a deep breath of fresh air. Things were rough before but moments like these reminded them that it was all worth it to get here. Now that they are here, they'd do their part and keep Ninjago safe.

No matter what.

___________

(Tada! Finally done! And at over 9k too! So! I have two more pieces to add to this before the series is complete! For now, I'll be giving it a break for a while and pick up back on oneshots. I've been focusing on series for too long after all. I'll still update Move on Dragons, H&F, etc but I'll be dropping one shots in-between. Well! Thanks for reading!)

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years

Text

Into the Woods

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 6246

Summary: Simon is so done with his roommate's shit. Little does he know he's about to find out why Baz is being weird. Based on "Baz is a secret theatre nerd with glasses and a man bun” request.

Read on AO3

AN: I'm alive! And exhausted because work is a nightmare. Seriously, having a full time job sucks ass. But, WAYWARD SON!!!! I'M SO EXCITED!!!!! Excited and scared, but mostly excited. 2020 can't come soon enough holy shit. Anywho, hope you enjoy this little romp :D

——————————————-

Simon

“What the fuck happened to you?”

I glare at Penny as best as I can with my tired eyes. “What the fuck do you think?”

“He was pacing in your bathroom?”

I sink into the uncomfortable lecture hall bench with a sigh. “Yes, came back late then kept me up until midnight, muttering and humming to himself, again. What the fuck is he doing that requires so much talking and movement. And why does it have to be in the fucking bathroom?!”

Penny shrugs, something usually only I do. “I don’t know, Si.”

“I bet he’s summoning the Devil.”

“Simon, for the last time, he’s an arsehole, not an evil wizard.”

“You don’t have to live with him.”

Penelope sighs and keeps typing on her laptop. I assume my occasional lecture position of arms on desk and head pillowed on arms. One advantage of uni is that professors don’t give a single shit if you sleep through their classes. I know I’m probably wasting my education, but I need sleep. Because of fucking Baz.

“Good morning, Snow.” Ugh, I hate his smooth, perfect voice. I grunt in reply. “Still not a fan of speaking, hm?”

“Fuck off, Baz,” I grumble, “it’s your fault I’m like this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, completely calm as usual.

I growl, because I hate words enough when I’m awake. And I refuse to use them with him.

He doesn’t answer, the bastard, just walks off. I watch from just over my arm as he sits a few rows in front. He’s easy to spot, what with the tight green t-shirt and stupid man bun. Well, it’s not totally stupid on him. Somehow everything looks good on him. He could wear a garbage bag and still look great. Stupid good looking arsehole.

I doze on and off through the whole psych lecture. It’s not that interesting anyway. And when I wake up, Baz is right in my line of vision, and I keep looking at him. How he re-adjusts his hair every once in awhile. How he spins a pencil between his long fingers. How he lifts his glasses up and down as he looks at the screen then takes notes. Why does he have to be such a good upstanding student and make the rest of us look bad? It’s so bloody infuriating.

I breathe a sigh of relief when the lecture is over. I’m done classes, but Baz has another lecture. I can go back to my room and get a good rest.

“Hey, Si,” Penelope says as I’m gathering my things. “Still wanna study for that English exam together?”

Shit, I promised her we’d study yesterday. Guess my nap will have to wait. “Yeah sure, Pen. Not sure how much help I’ll be. I’m not exactly good at English.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll whip you into shape.” She grabs my arm, and I willingly go.

“Yeah, sure, that’s possible,” I chuckle. We head out the door, but I sneak a look behind me. Baz is talking to a group of people. Huh, that’s weird. Baz and I have been roommates for over a year, and I’ve only ever seen him hang with the same two guys, a freckled redhead and his cousin (I think.) Those two are both standing there now, but for some reason there are a bunch of other people standing around too. Who have big smiles and even bigger gestures. Does Baz have friends now? Huh, he has been out more often. Guess they don’t mind that he’s an annoyingly smart arsehole, or that he looks better than all of them.

“C’mon, Si!”

Penny tugs harder, and I rip my gaze away from Baz. I’ll think about him later.

———————————————-

The only good thing about the student centre is that the chairs are comfy. I’m pretty sure the university invested all their furniture budget into cushy armchairs. I’m certainly not complaining. Especially today, when I could sink into the comfy leather forever.

“And what were the main themes of Fahrenheit 451?” Penny asks.

“Uhhh...” I don’t open my eyes. They feel too heavy. “Books are better than people?”

“I would personally yes, but our prof would disagree. Try again.”

“Blargh.”

“Blargh?” she chuckles. “Simon, are you making up words again?”

“Yes,” I grunt, “because I’m frustrated and tired and probably going to fail all my exams.”

Penny sighs, long and heavy. “You’re not going to fail.”

“You say that because you’re trying to make me feel better because you love me,” I spit out before thinking. I’m tired and have less of a filter than usual.

She scoffs, but in an endearing way. I’m not sure how she does that. “Yes, I love you, Simon, which means I’d never lie to you. You. Are. Not. Going. To. Fail.”

I sigh, because I know she’s right. Penny actually, really believes in me. I’m glad to have her in my life. “Thanks, Pen.”

“You’re welcome. Now, just tell me one theme, please?”

I tilt my head back over the chair, closing my eyes as I try to remember what our monotone prof said. “Uh, censorship?”

“Yes! See? I told you you’d get it.”

“Thank you, Penny,” I murmur, then curl into the armchair. “Now I’m going to sleep for a thousand years.”

Penny sighs exasperatedly, but it’s still loving. “Very well. Want a mint aero bar from the vending machine?”

“Mm, yes please.” I rummage around for my wallet in my back pocket, and pull out (what I hope is) a five pound note. Penny snatches it. I hope she gives me the change.

As I’m sinking into the comfy chair, finally relaxing after hours of discomfort, something gets dropped on my head. I frown and pick up the chocolate bar. I hear Penny sit in the opposite chair.

“Hey,” she says through a mouthful of candy, “look at this.”

“Don’t wanna,” I grumble.

“Simon, open your bloody eyes.”

“Ugh, fine.” I blink my eyes open. Penny is holding a big poster. It’s covered in trees and says "Into the Woods" in fancy letters. Then it lists the school theatre and dates next week. Wait... “Pen, did you steal that off the student events board?!”

“Not important. But look! This is an awesome musical, and the drama club is doing it soon. Maybe we could go see it.”

I twist my lips together. “Hm, I don’t know...”

“C’mon, Si, we’ve both been stressed out. We need to do something fun.”

“And musical theatre performed by probably off key uni students is fun?”

She gives me a deadpan look. “Do we have enough money to do anything better?”

I let out a long sigh. “No, we don’t.”

“Exactly. Now, wanna go see some shitty musical theatre?”

I twist my lips again, fiddling with my chocolate wrapper. “I’ll think about it, Pen. I need to study more if I’m going to pass psych.”

Penelope nods in acknowledgement. “Okay, I get it. The show is next week so we’ve still got time. Now,” she flips her binder open again, “tell me the role of Clarisse in regards to Guy’s character development.”

“Ugh,” I groan, “gimme a minute.”

I put Into the Woods in the back of my mind, and once again try to remember what the fuck our professor said. It’s an annoyingly difficult task.

———————————————-

When I get back to my dorm, Baz isn’t there, again. Man, he’s really been out a lot lately. More than before.

Last year, when he wasn’t in class, he was always in the room. Either reading on his bed or working at his desk. I tried to avoid him as much as possible, because everytime I disturbed him he would glare or make some passive aggressive sarcastic comment. It became clear he didn’t like my presence. So I learned to stay out of his way, but I guess that hasn’t really been a problem lately. And...it’s weird. It’s weird him not being here.

I take a long shower, revelling in the fact that Baz won’t bang on the door and demand I not use all the hot water. After, I curl up in bed, Netflix blaring in my headphones. It’s what I need to wind down after studying. Eventually, I let myself drift off to the sounds of Brooklyn 99.

But I’m woken up again when the door swings open. I grunt but don’t open my eyes. I just listen as Baz softly shuts it, pads around the room, then enters the bathroom. Ugh, fucking hell. He’s pacing and muttering and humming again, and even though he’s quiet, it’s annoying as fuck. I turn up my volume but it’s no use. Just knowing he’s there keeps me up. His presence just overwhelms my brain all the time.

When his footsteps get louder, I know he’s back in the main room. I pull off my headphones and glare at his back.

“Can you not?” I growl.

Baz freezes, head snapping up and shoulders tensing. Guess he thought I was asleep. “Can you be more specific?”

“It’s fucking great that you’re out having fun with your friends, but your late night entrances and obsessive pacing is keeping me up. Some of us aren’t vampires and can’t stay up all night.”

“Sorry my schedule is inconvenient for you, Snow.” His voice is so neutral I can’t tell if he’s mocking me or not.

"Oh fuck off, you prick."

"Incredibly creative insults there."

Ugh, he's so quick tongued. I can't fight him usually, and certainly not when I'm so tired. I opt for grunting and rolling over. Baz quickly goes back into the bathroom to change. (Prudish prick won’t change in front of me.) God, I’m so exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too. Maybe I do need a break. Something fun...

I grab my phone from where it’s sitting on the floor and send a quick text.

Simon: heyyyy y’know i think i’m down for the musical i do need a break

Penny’s reply is instantaneous. (She was probably browsing Tumblr late at night again.)

Penny: Awesome! I’ll get us tickets for the last show on Friday.

Simon: sweet :) gonna go to bed night pen

Penny: Night, Si.

I power down the phone and restart Netflix again. Baz is already in bed, his black hair fanned out against the white pillowcase. Yeah, I need a distraction. Anything to keep me from thinking about school and exhaustion. As well as the stupid, annoyingly pretty guy sleeping no more than three metres away from me.

———————————————-

“What took you so long?!”

I ran up to Penny panting, completely doubled over. Christ, my lungs are fucking burning. “Sorry...couldn’t find...phone...bus...was late...so so sorry.”

“It’s fine, Si, let’s just get in there. Curtain is in three minutes.”

She takes my sleeve and drags me inside. She’s stomping, so I know she’s really pissed. I move to hold her hand tightly, squeezing it. “I’m really sorry, Pen.”

Penny keeps stomping, but sighs and squeezes back. “I know. Let’s just get in there.”

I let out a small sigh, because I know we’re still okay.

We rush into the theatre, jittering at the ticket booth and snatching up programs as we run past the poor student volunteer. Penny quickly finds us two seats in a not that shitty place. Surprisingly, the theatre is quite packed. Huh. I wouldn’t expect this many people for a student production.

“We made it,” Penny sighs.

“Yeah,” I reply. “So much for stress free evening.”

She chuckles, almost sardonically. “Yeah, unfortunately agreed. Now shush, curtain’s coming up.”

The whole theatre gets dark, and orchestra music swells. I lean back in my chair. The curtain rises to reveal (what I think at least) is a minimal set with people on it. A few tree silhouettes in the back, a raised platform, a fake fireplace, fake counter, and a fake cow next to a stool. Everything is just so fake. Penny said I had to “suspend my disbelief”. It’s hard to pretend with such little there. This is why I like TV and movies.

All the people on stage are wearing sort of fairy tale clothes. They start singing about what they wish for. To go to a party, for a cow to have milk, and to have a baby. Christ, is this whole thing just about people wanting things? Musicals are fucking weird.

I sort of half zone out, picking up on bits and pieces of the show and dozing off. Baz has been coming back later and later all week and waking me up each time he opens the door. The theatre is dark, so it’s hard to stay awake. I fall asleep at the scene with Rapunzel and the witch, but start to stir again when Jack’s mom throws the magic beans on the ground (ha, idiot.) But since this play jumps around more than a rabbit on a sugar rush, suddenly the Baker’s Wife is walking around in the woods with the cow as Cinderella runs past. She’s running from the ball again and hides behind the Wife. A trumpet goes off as someone gallops ridiculously on stage-

Wait, is that...

“Baz!?”

Three people shush me, but I ignore them, because Baz fucking Pitch is on stage right now, hamming it up with everyone else. He’s wearing a silly outfit that reminds me of a Disney prince, with a white jacket and a red sashs and gloves. His hair is slicked back with gel, emphasizing his stark widow’s peak more than usual. He’s not wearing his glasses either. Huh. I’ve never seen him without them. He looks...good. Well, he looks good with them too, but this is just a different sort of good.

I don’t pay attention to the scene, not even listening to what they’re saying. I’m just focusing on Baz and his amazingly ridiculous appearance. Oh my god he looks so stupid, trotting his feet and flicking his hands like he’s holding reins. When he’s offstage I lean over to Penny, who’s jaw is also on the ground.

“What the hell is Baz doing here?!” I whisper.

“I...have no idea,” she replies very hushed. It’s the first time I’ve heard her admit she doesn’t know something.

The play continues, but I’m paying attention even less. I just keep waiting for Baz to show up again. I’m so jittery. My leg is shaking at lightspeed. Penny kicks my foot in an attempt to stop me but it doesn’t help. The only thing that makes it stop is seeing Baz gallop ridiculously on stage, along with Rapunzel’s Prince.

“Ah, there you are, good brother. Father and I had wondered where you had gone,” he says to Baz.

“I have been looking all night for her,” Baz replies. His voice is like it always is, smooth and commanding. Like he was born to tell people what to do. Usually I find it annoying, but right now it works. He is supposed to be a prince.

The two princes commiserate over their mutual impossible loves. They're both idiots.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel! What kind of name is that? You jest! I have never heard of such a thing,” Baz laughs out.

Rapunzel’s Prince snorts. “I speak the truth. She is as true as your maiden. A maiden running from a prince? None would run from us.”

“Yet,” Baz sighs, “she has.”

Then he starts singing, and my brain short circuits.

Holy shit. Baz is singing. And he’s singing well. His voice is a solid, smooth baritone. It reverberates through the theatre perfectly. I’m totally transfixed. Since when could Baz sing so incredibly?!

“Agony!” He belts. “Beyond power of speech. When the one thing you want, is the only thing out of your reach.”

Holy. Shit.

I don’t realise how much I’m gaping until Penny pushes up my hanging lower jaw back up. The whole song is quite ridiculous, and Baz sings it perfectly. He looks properly agonized through it. I didn’t know he could be so expressive. He’s, just, amazing.

The songs ends, and Baz exits. I don’t pay attention, what with my mind still spinning. So, Baz, my arsehole geeky roommate, can act, and sing, and looks weirdly amazing in a stupid prince costume. Okay, that’s a lot of new info to process.

Before I know it, the lights come back on, and Penny is tugging on my sleeve.

“Simon?”

I look up at her bewildered. “What?”

“C’mon, get up, I want to stretch my legs, and we can get some snacks. I bet you’re hungry.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, that’d be great.”

I follow behind her with my hands in my hoodie pockets. While Penny goes to the snack bar, I sit on a bench. Something stabs me in my pocket. I pull out the crumpled program. Wait, Penny mentioned this week the actors have bios in the program. I furiously flip through it.

I find Baz’s picture almost immediately. It’s black and white and a bit blurry but I can still make out his face. He looks normal in it. Tight shirt, glasses falling down his nose, hair tied up. But here, he's smiling slightly. Wow, I’ve never seen him look anything other than bored or annoyed. It’s weird, but also nice. I look down at the bio.

Baz Grimm-Pitch - Cinderella’s Prince A witty English literature major with a salt and vinegar crisp addiction plays Cinderella’s arrogant love. In his spare time, Baz plays the violin, studies the development of the English language, and competes in a recreational football league. “Into the Woods” is his first dramatic production.

I chuckle under my breath. Baz really is such a nerd. Even though I already know most of this, it’s kinda...cute? I’m not sure if that’s the right word but it feels right. The little blurb is just makes him sound so adorable. I can almost forget he’s an arsehole.

“Si, you want a cookie?”

I snap my head up to glare at a smirking Penny. She waves the chocolate chip cookie tauntingly. I snatch it from her hand, making sure to glare at her while I take a huge bite. She sits down next to me and looks over at the program.

“Huh,” she says, “at least they got a good photo of Basilton.”

“Yeah,” I reply quietly. “Still can’t believe he’s in this.”

“Me neither. I thought he was just a quiet academic like me.”

“Same, but...he’s actually really good.”

“I hate to give him a victory, but yeah, he is. He’ll probably be good in the second act too.”

I whip my head around to her, eyes wide. “Second act?! I thought the story was wrapped up!”

Penny shakes her head, swishing her curls. “Nope. There’s another part. It’s just as long.”

I look at my phone clock. “We’ve already been here for an hour and a half!”

She takes a bite of her cookie and smiles around the mouthful. “Yup. Welcome to musical theatre, Si.”

I groan and slump forward. The program is still in my hand, and still on Baz’s picture. Well...if Baz has got more songs, maybe I won’t mind staying.

———————————————-

So the second act, from what I can tell, pretty much destroys all the happy endings of the first act. Wow, okay, that’s not depressing at all. Everybody either gets squished by a giant or just generally fucks up. What a pleasant play.

Baz comes back on a few times. First, he and the other prince sing another version of the previous song. It’s the same tune and the same idea, but they’re singing about different impossible women. I chuckle. So Baz’s character is a total bastard. Kind of makes him seem like less of an arsehole by comparison.

Later, as everything in the story continues to fall apart, Baz runs into the Baker’s Wife. After one short conservation, the lights go pink, and the music gets slow. Baz starts approaching her with a smirk.

“Anything can happen in the woods,” he sings. “May I kiss you?”

My eyes pop out. Well, that’s forward. Far more forward than Baz probably really is. I know it’s just the play, but Baz looks so strong and handsome, that I believe him. And, is it wrong that I sort of wish it was real? That Baz would actually be that well, sexy? God, did I just call Baz sexy?!

Baz does kiss her, and it’s so intense that I blush. The Wife walks away from him, but he grabs her again and twirls her into his arms. Together, they glide across the wooden stage, occasionally kissing more. He spins her in and out, leading her around, all while singing a sleezy but beautiful song to seduce her.

“Foolishness can happen in the woods,” he croons. “Once again, please...let your hesitations be hushed. Any moment, big or small, is a moment after all. Seize the moment, skies may fall any moment.”

They kiss again, and I can’t believe how passionate it is. How passionate Baz is. It’s strange and wonderful to watch. All too soon, the Wife is pulling away and the kiss ends. But my brain is still swirling while Baz sings again.

“Right and wrong don't matter in the woods, only feelings. Let us meet the moment unblushed. Life is often so unpleasant. You must know that, as a peasant. Best to take a moment present. As a present, for the moment.”

With Baz’s last line, they walk off stage. I’m still blushing, and very confused by my own feelings.

Soon enough, the play ends. Baz’s character leaves Cinderella and marries Sleeping Beauty. (Wow, what a bastard.) But after all that misery, everyone atill alive is alright, I guess. The actors line up and bow. Everyone starts applauding. Oh shit. I quickly join. All the cast members smile brightly as they bow. And when Baz steps up, he’s no exception. Christ, he actually looks amazing when he smiles. It fits his face far better than a scowl or a thin flat line.

I’ve been learning a lot of new things about Baz tonight.

The cast leaves and the curtain falls. Lights turn back on. People start shuffling out. I’m still a bit dumbfounded to move though. I just saw Baz in a musical, where he sang and danced and kissed perfectly. He was fucking incredible. And I should let him know.

As we’re walking out the door, I turn to one of the ticket takers. “Hey, where are the actors coming out?”

“They should be in the alley to the left soon.”

“Awesome, thanks.”

On the sidewalk, I tug on Penny’s hand. “You can head home, Pen. I’m gonna stick around for a bit.”

Penny gives me a curious look, but just shrugs. “Alright then. See you, Si.”

“See you.”

She saunters off with a spring in her step. I watch her, wondering if I should run after and not do this. But I stay still. Fuck, what am I doing?

The actors trickle out one by one. I notice Baz’s friend and his cousin, but they run off before I can ask them where Baz is. The crowd thins until I’m the only one left, standing there like an idiot. Maybe I missed him. Maybe I should just go-

“Blasted dead mobile,” a familiar voice grumbles.

My head snaps up just in time to see Baz stop in his tracks. He looks like a deer in the headlights, grey eyes wide behind his spectacles. He’s back to his usual style of t-shirt and glasses and manbun. Back to the Baz I know. His mouth hangs open in complete and utter shock.

“Hey,” I say as casually as possible.

“Snow,” he replies shakily, a slight redness appearing on his cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

"I, just saw the show. The one you were in. Obviously. And I just wanted to find you and say you're uh, you were really good."

He visibly gulps, fiddling with his knapsack strap. “Thank you. I...didn’t realise you were a musical theatre fan.”

I chuckle and rub the back of my neck. “I’m not, not really. Penny convinced me to come. I didn’t expect to see you here either. Especially on stage. How the Hell did that happen?”

Baz sighs with both exasperation and what seems like a little happiness, maybe. “Well, if you must know, my cousin was the one who originally decided to audition and I helped him with his lines. I said he was shite, and he bet me I couldn’t audition better. I’m very competitive, so I made a real effort to do well. Then I got in. I was going to turn it down, but Dev convinced me to try. It’s been, weirdly fun. I like performing. And I made new friends. Turns out there’s more to life than studying.”

“Huh,” I chuckle, “that’s pretty neat. So all that pacing and humming in the washroom was you rehearsing your lines?”

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t want you to know because it felt embarrassing. Sorry about that.”

I blink rapidly. Holy shit, I’m legitimately in shock. Baz Pitch just apologized to me. Wow. Tonight has been bizzare. “I-It’s okay. I get it now. Honestly, I just thought you were keeping me up on purpose because you hate me.” I try to laugh that last part off with a nervous chuckle.

Baz looks at the ground, shuffling his feet. I’ve seen Baz cold before, detached and pulled in and what not. But this is different. He looks...nervous. When he speaks, his words are shaky and quiet. “I don’t, you know. Hate you. I never have.”

My world tilts sideways. I nearly stumble backwards from the shock of his words. I look for any sign of deceit and find none. All I see is the anxious sort-of-teenager confessing something apparently really hard to say.

“Oh,” I stutter out. “You...you don’t?”

“No,” he says. “I just, I make arsehole comments when I’m nervous. Especially to those who...make me nervous.”

Huh? What the hell does he mean? “I, make you nervous?”

“Yes. You have almost since we met.”

I’m still confused. I take a moment to study Baz. His pulled in body language, his knapsack fiddling, his downcast eyes, his increasingly obvious blush-

Oh. Oh.

“Oh,” I squeak. Baz sighs in an annoyed way. That probably wasn’t the response he wanted.

“Yeah,“ he grumbles. “Oh.”

Crap I don’t know what to say. I end up blurting out the first thing that comes to my dumb head. “So is that stereotype about guys in theatre being gay true?”

Baz head lifts up to better glare at me. His eyes are like stormy grey daggers. “No, obviously not. It’s a stereotype for a reason.”

Shit shit, I’m so bad at this. I run a hand through my tangled hair. “Right, right, sorry. I make dumb comments when I’m nervous.” I sigh and look right at him, eyes fixed despite my fear. “I guess what I’m trying to ask to in my stupid way is, are you gay? Just, want to make sure I'm not misinterpreting. I do that a lot.”

Baz’s face softens. No more steely glare, just neutral, save for his slightly pulled in lips. “Yes,” he says like he has to force the words out. “Yes, I am.” He gulps, fiddling with his strap like mad. “Are you?”

I shrug, because truthfully the only honest gesture. “Sorta, I guess. At least part of me must be, considering how much I like looking at you.”

He inhales sharply, and the blush starts creeping down his long neck. “Oh. That’s...not something I was aware of.”

“Honestly?” I chuckle, pulling at my hair again. “Me neither. I mean, I’m always looking at you, but I never thought about why too much. It wasn’t until the show that I realised how much I like to stare at you. Um, sorry if that’s creepy.”

“No,” he replies very quickly. “no, it’s uh, it’s actually fine.”

He’s blushing very hard. Shit, am I blushing too? It certainly feels like it. “Oh. Okay.”

We look at each other in silence for a long moment. I’m not sure what to say, and obviously neither does he. We’re just two idiots standing on a driveway. I feel my stomach rumble. Oh man, I’m a hungry idiot.

“So,” I say, rocking on my heels, “do you have anywhere to be?”

Baz shakes his head. “No, not really. I’m supposed to go to the wrap party but fuck that. I was just going to go home to the dorm.”

“Well, in that case, uh, you wanna go get something to eat? There’s a 24 hour diner near our dorm building.”

He looks at me curiously, studying me like a specimen. “Are you asking me as your roommate, a fan of my performance, or...something else?”

I chew my bottom lip. Cautiously, I step forward and and brush my fingers on the back of his hand. He doesn’t pull away, so I hold it loosely. “Something else, preferably.”

Baz looks at me with wide, open eyes, filled to the brim with worry. “Snow, you do remember that we're roommates, right? If whatever, this is doesn't work out, we're still going to have to live with each other for months. That would not be pleasant. And hell, Snow, you barely know me, really. Is this really worth the risk?”

My grip on his hand tightens. He still doesn’t pull away. “Y-Yeah, of course I know this could all blow up in our faces. But, Baz, I really want to try. Like, you currently occupy like 90% of my thoughts. And sure most of them were negative, because I thought were a prick.” He frowns at that. It’s actually adorable. “But now, I’d really like to find out what you’re like when you’re not a prick. So I think it’s worth the risk.” I take a deep breath, making sure to look at Baz right in the eye. “Do you?”

I can see the gears turning in his big head. I’ve seen it a hundred times in class when we have to solve a problem. It’s even more fascinating up close. How his lips shift, his eyes darting back in forth. He doesn’t let go of my hand the whole time though. I catch the moment his face relaxes though, when he makes his decision.

“Yes,” he says quietly, “I think it’s worth the risk too.”

We both grin at the same time. Fuck I never knew before tonight that seeing his smile could make me so happy. I think I want to see it a lot more.

“Well, c’mon then.” I tug on his arm, and we start walking. “I’m hungry.”

“When are you not hungry, Snow?”

I scoff. “I thought you were only a prick when you were nervous.”

“I’m about to go on a date with my roommate who I’ve been hopelessly pining after for over a year. So excuse me, but I’m very nervous.”

Wow, my whole face must look like a tomato right now. Looking over, I see that Baz is in the exact same state. Either this is going to be incredible or a complete disaster. I’m seriously hoping for the first one.

“Don’t be,” I say as kindly as I can, “it’s just a date. We’ll see how this goes and go with it, alright?”

Half his mouth pulls up in a lazy smile. I like him relaxed like this. “Okay. I can live with that.”

I grin. I can’t stop grinning tonight. “Awesome. Now, important first date question.” He looks at me curiously and somewhat afraid. “Where the hell did you learn to sing so well?”

Baz lets out a breathy laugh. “Playing the violin all your life gives you surprisingly good pitch. It only took a few sessions with the pianist to get the songs okay. Not that they were easy. Apparently Sondheim is never easy.”

“That’s amazing.” He examines me for any sign of mocking, but he won’t find anything. I genuinely thinks it’s really cool.

“Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.”

“Could I get a repeat performance?”

“No.” I pout as much as I can, bottom lip pushed very far out. Baz stays strong for a few more seconds, then sighs. “Maybe some other time.”

I smile again. “Awesome. Next question, what was it like getting into those tight prince pants?”

“I am not dignifying that question with an answer.”

“Oh c’mon! I’m just wondering.”

“And wondering you shall stay.”

I make a “pbblt” sound with my lips. “Fine, spoilsport. How about you tell me what the production was like? Penny says plays are all drama behind the scene too.”

“Fucking hell it was a nightmare! Dev, Niall, the Witch, and Cinderella were great, but generally actors are self absorbed idiots. First day, Rapunzel came in hungover and spilled her entire coffee on my shirt. Baker's wife was the the world's worst diva. And don’t get me started on the Wolf. He tried to bang every girl in the cast, and a couple of the guys too.”

He goes on like that as we walk down the dimly lit street hand in hand. I interject a bit of commentary here and there, but I just let him talk. He’s fun to listen to. I like his sarcastic, sharp humour. Especially when it’s not directed at me.

I think I like him. A lot.

———————————————-

“No no, I’m serious!” I say far too loud, considering the time and that we’re walking down the hall of our dorm building. “Jamie is gonna kill Cersei. It’s inevitable.”

“He’s already left King’s Landing though,” Baz replies cooly.

“Yeah, but he can come back.”

“I suppose. But I think he’s going to be too busy with the White Walkers to deal with his crazy twin sister.”

“Good point. Maybe it’ll be the finale, when Dany finally storms King’s Landing.”

“Ugh, she needs to do that already. It’s been eight seasons!”

“They’re keeping us in suspense.”

I groan and lean back against the dorm room door. “I know. It’s fucking torture.” I sigh looking at the brown piece of wood. It feels so massive right now. “So, we’re here.”

“I noticed.” Baz stands in front of me, with only a few feet between us.

“First date protocol says I’m supposed to walk you to the door. But we’ve got the same door, so...”

“Yes, I’m not quite sure what to do either.”

We stare at each other. I study his face, like I have been doing all night. I spent most of our meal staring at him as he talked. I can finally admit to myself that I like to do that, and now I can also say I like his laugh, his smile, and the way he talks about his passions. I just keep seeing him in a new light. Everything feels different and new and scary. I love it.

“So,” I say quietly, “did you have fun?”

Baz smiles softly. “Yes, I did.”

“Would you, be persuaded to do this again?

“Is that your way of asking me out for a second date, Snow?”

I shrug up to my pink tinged ears. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Then yes. I would like to do this again.”

I nod rapidly, far too nervous for my own good. “Okay, cool, awesome, sounds good. Do we...just go to bed now?”

Baz shrugs slightly. “I suppose so.”

We immediately go back to staring. But my gaze drifts downwards, to his thin lips that are currently pressed together. I still remember that stage kiss. I know that was all fake, but I wonder what the real thing would be like that. I wonder if that passion translate to real life. To me.

“Simon...” Baz whispers. He’s somehow gotten closer. And my breath hitches, because he’s looking at my mouth too.

Fuck it.

I grab the front of his shirt and kiss him hard.

Baz gasps against my mouth, but very quickly sinks into it. His lips slide with mine perfectly. He presses one hand to my neck and buries the other in my hair. I groan and slide mine across his back. Christ, he’s so fucking fit. I want to tear his shirt off and feel all these muscles directly on my finger.

“Kissing on the first date, Snow?” Baz whispers playfully in one of the few moments we aren’t liplocked. “Scandalous.”

“Oh, fuck you,” I grumble, holding his hips tighter.

After a few more kisses, he pulls away with a small grin. My knees buckle at the devilish glint in his grey eyes. He looks just as sexy as he did on stage. “Well,” he drawls, “if you insist.”

For the second time tonight, my brain completely short circuits.

This is so new and scary, yet, I’m so fucking excited. I suppose it’s going to be an adventure. Into the unknown. Into the woods, I suppose.

I kiss him again, clenching my fist in his hair so hard his man bun falls apart, curtaining our faces in black strands. He pushes a hand under my shirt to feel up my stomach. I fumble with the keycard and get the blasted door open, then pull Baz in by the back of his neck. The door closes, and the rest of the night is a blissful whirlwind.

Hooray for musical theatre.

———————————————- AN: "Blargh" is copyright Theo the Fanfic Writer and anyone who steals it will be sued. /s ;)

So yeah, musicals! "Into the Woods" is my favourite musical of all time and I think Baz would be a perfect Cinderella's Prince. Also I've always thought Baz would be an incredible singer. Simon would be floored lol. Sorry if this is a little rough tbh. Hard to describe someone watching a musical haha. I struggled writing it but, I had fun in the end. I love writing Simon the Oblivious Pining Idiot. Requests are still open and I will get to them between being dead from work. Hope you enjoyed this :)

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #musical #fluff #into the woods #making out #mysnowbazfic #long post

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visionshadows · 6 years

Text

Born to Run

For the @sidgeno-fluff-fest prompt of puppies. Entirely 100% because I spend a lot of time following Blair Braverman and Quince Mountain on Twitter. Musher Twitter is fun!

The snow crunches under Sid’s boots, the sky still dark and the stars heavy above. The sun won’t rise for another hour, but by then the dogs will all be fed and ready to go. He can hear Geno in the barn, whistling tunelessly to himself as he gets the sled ready.

“Hey babies,” Sid murmurs as he scoops a mixture of meat broth and kibble into the first bowl he comes to - Gretzky’s since his house is closest to the barn. “Time to rise and shine.”

A few of the dogs are already out of the houses, whining for their breakfast. Manon is singing. The yearlings are the slowest to wake and Sid reaches into the house to scratch Masha under the chin. “Come on, precious. Time to get up and eat breakfast. You’re going on a run today.”

They all want to run, every last dog, and Sid hates when they have to leave any of them behind. Soon they’re all fed and jumping around on their leads, howling and ready to go. Geno’s got the sled out and packed for today’s run. The Canadian Challenge is three weeks away and Geno’s got to do a hundred miles today.

They work in unison, getting the booties on the dogs who are running today. The older dogs are a little better at standing still than the younger ones. Flower still dances around like he’s a yearling even though he’s 8 and has been running on Sid and Geno’s teams his whole life. The whole goalie litter is a little crazy. Manon is the only one who can be trusted which is why she’s Geno’s lead dog.

The sun is just peeking over the trees when the dogs are all hitched to the sled and Geno is ready to go. Manon and Masha are leaping and howling in front.

Geno taps Sid in the chest and they do their handshake. Sid gives him a kiss and Geno slaps him in the ass, making Sid laugh.

“Love you,” Geno says roughly, one of the first things he’s said that morning. Sid reaches up to pat his face once more with a thick glove. Geno pretends to bite at it.

“Go on. I’ll see you when you get back.”

Geno grins and pulls up his neck warmer before shouting “let’s go!” The dogs take off with a flying leap and the sled jerks forward. Sid watches them go until he can’t see them any longer. He stamps his feet a few times and then turns back to the dogs left in the yard. There’s work to be done.

Sid’s 18 when he meets Geno, shaking hands with him, snowblind from the glacier and half asleep from the time change between Norway and Alaska. It’s Geno’s third summer on the glacier, giving tourists a taste of Alaska without any of the mess. Sid’s not quite sure what he’s doing here. He just knew he wasn’t ready to go home.

He’s got a team of twenty dogs of his own and he loves each and every one of them immediately. He takes his time getting to know them, feeling them out as best he can even though he’s got to start giving tours the next morning. Geno gives him tips on which dogs are the best in lead, which work best as wheel dogs, which ones are lazy.

Sid thanks him and Geno grins at him, wide and warm and Sid feels like he made the right choice.

The first day is long and exhausting and when the evening comes, Sid’s arms and legs feel like rubber. His throat is sore from talking and his lips are cracked. All the dogs are rubbed down and fed and taken care of. All he wants to do is go sleep forever.

Geno catches him though and grabs Sid’s arm. “Come. Have to eat.”

Sid wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “I would rather get some sleep.”

“Have to eat,” Geno insists. “Can’t take care of dogs if don’t take care of self. Food is first. Then sleep.”

Geno shoves him into the meal tent and Sid meets the rest of the mushers and handlers. There’s only thirty people on the glacier at any given time, thirty people, two hundred dogs, and an ever-changing landscape of ice. It probably won’t hurt to listen to Geno and eat.

A few days later, Geno’s sitting next to him as Sid repairs a harness and Geno’s sipping tea from a thermos. It’s as quiet as it gets on the glacier, dogs are barking, people are talking.

“Want my own team someday,” Geno says after a while. “Don’t really like this.”

Sid looks over at him and nods. “Yeah, I want to race.”

“My family think I’m crazy,” Geno laughs, shaking his head. “They say, spend all my time with dogs. Like cold too much. Never go home to Russia again.”

“You can run dogs in Russia,” Sid points out, smoothing the harness before putting it aside.

Geno sips his tea. “Can. Could never be in love in Russia so I stay in US or Canada. They understand that, just not dogs.”

“Oh,” Sid looks at his knees. He wiggles his toes inside of his boots. They’re warm and cozy. He gently knocks his shoulder into Geno’s, layer upon layer. “Same. But my parents understand about the dogs.”

Sid’s a writer as well as a musher and he spends his post-chore time working on an article for Outdoor Life and updating Twitter. He hates social media, but Geno convinced him that it’s a necessary evil. They have a ton of followers and they use Patreon to help defray costs to keep the team running.

People love the dogs and they love Geno so Sid mostly films them and talks about things that they do. He’s honest about the less than savory parts of their life, from picking up shit to chopping up raw meat. He posts video of Geno handing out beaver tails to the dogs after a long run.

On their 4th wedding anniversary, Sid posted a picture of them from the glacier, young and smiling, both of them with goggle tans and squinting from the glare off the ice, Geno’s arm slung over Sid’s shoulders. He’d captioned it with Happy Anniversary, Zhenya. Both he and Geno had lost hundreds of followers, gained hundreds more, received lots of hate and made it to twitter moments.

That’s kind of why Sid hates social media, but he continues to use it. Mostly he’s annoyed because he wrote a book and it’s not like he danced around the issue of Geno. He wrote about their wedding in the book. It’s a damn good book too.

Geno posts a video from the trail, the dogs running and Geno narrating what is going on, breathing heavily, but happy at the same time. Sid watches and then reposts. Callie, their only indoor cat, climbs into his lap and curls up for a nap. He strokes her with one hand as he goes over his lists for the Canadian Challenge.

Geno’s got to do this one alone since he’s using it as a qualifier for the Iditarod. No help at checkpoints, all care by the musher only. Sid can’t do anything to help once the race starts. He can prepare everything ahead of time though. Mostly he’s worried about Geno’s feet. His boots are good, but the temperatures in Saskatchewan can get down to -40.

He’s browsing arctic gear and listening to a podcast about the mating habits of elk when the phone rings. It startles Callie and she takes off, leaving Sid’s lap in a burst of fluff.

It’s Geno and Sid answers with a grin, “Hey babe.”

“Just watched Ovi shit on Shannon while we run and made me think of you.”

Sid laughs loudly and leans back in his chair. “You say the cutest things.”

“At least he not stop team to shit. Can’t talk long. Love you.”

“Love you too. Tell Shannon I’m sorry she got shit on.”

Geno doesn’t say goodbye. He never does. It’s been a rule they’ve had since that first summer on the glacier. No goodbyes. They hadn’t even been together after the first summer on the glacier and they had sworn that no goodbyes was the way to go. It works for them.

Callie slinks back over, looking put out. She climbs back into Sid’s lap and he starts to pet her again. He’s got another 500 words to write and a pair of boots to buy before lunch.

It takes them five years to buy their farm. Sid finishes school and writes a book. They work on the glacier every summer and spend too much time apart during the fall and winter, working for different mushers and volunteering at different races. They both work the Iditarod twice, but only see each other when it is over. They get married and argue about what they’re going to name their racing team.

The farm is in northern Ontario, far enough away from everything that Sid can breathe. They’re not ready for dogs right away, no matter how much they want them. They still get them faster than expected. Another musher has an unplanned litter and offers all five pups to them.

They know Cari from the glacier and the dogs’ line is good so they say yes. Geno builds dog houses and Sid drives across Manitoba to pick up the puppies when they’re ready to be weaned. They’re all adorable balls of fluff, climbing all over each other and running around the yard.

When he gets them home, they sit in the yard with their puppies running around. Sid leans against Geno’s side, watching them happily. One of the puppies comes running over, tripping over his feet and tumbling into Geno’s lap. Geno picks him up, shaking him gently before cradling him against his belly.

“So this forwards, goalies, or defense?”

“Goalies,” Sid says easily. “These are definitely goalies.”

Geno rubs the puppy’s belly lightly. “Who this then?”

“The girls are Manon and Shannon for sure. Boys are Flower, Marty, and Vlad.”

“Welcome home, Vlad,” Geno says, leaning over to press a kiss to the puppy’s forehead. Vlad wiggles away and romps back over to where his brothers and sisters are playing. Geno pulls Sid close again and kisses him softly. “Thanks, Sid.”

Sid breathes against Geno’s lips, smiling. “Thanks, Geno.”

Geno gets home late at night, Manon still singing to announce they’ve arrived. Sid’s waiting for them, stew warm on the stove for Geno and warm meat and kibble for the dogs in their bowls. Geno’s fingers are stiff as they work to unclip all the dogs and get them rubbed down and stretched out.

Sid checks Shannon over well for any lingering shit, but all of it is gone thankfully. She licks his face as he massages her paws with ointment. All of the dogs are tired, but they eat and settle into their houses comfortably. Sid gets the sled put away, sending Geno into the house to warm up.

All of Geno’s gear is in a pile by the door, stripped off and left there. Sid rolls his eyes. He could leave it if he wanted. Geno would take care of it after showering and eating, but Sid shakes out the parka and hangs it up. The snow pants and gloves are next. He inspects all the gear at the same time, making sure it still in good shape. Boots are last and he pays close attention to the soles before setting them aside.

The shower is running when he gets upstairs to the bathroom. He slides in, leaving his clothes in a pile next to Geno’s. The water isn’t warm yet, still lukewarm to make sure Geno doesn’t accidentally burn himself.

“Hey,” Sid says, stepping into the shower. Geno’s leaning against the wall, eyes half-closed as the water runs over his side. Sid pulls him upright and gets him under the spray. “Everything still attached?”

Geno grunts in affirmation and lets Sid move him around until he’s pink and warm. He kisses Sid slowly, hands resting on Sid’s lower back. Geno’s stomach finally interrupts them, loud over the running water.

Geno laughs against Sid’s lips. “Sorry.”

They eat dinner on the couch with a hockey game on, Edmonton is losing to Boston. They paid too much money to Connor McDavid and Leon Draisaitl and now they can’t put a team around them.

Callie begs stew from Geno and he gives it to her, crooning softly in Russian to her about how she’s such a good cat. She’s his baby, the only one he spoils since it’s a bad idea to spoil sled dogs.

“If the dogs could see you now,” Sid murmurs as Callie laps stew from Geno’s spoon.

“She’s starving,” Geno says, rubbing behind Callie’s ears. “Look how skinny.”

Callie is decidedly not skinny and hasn’t been since she was a stray kitten Geno found when out on a run with the dogs. Sid runs a hand over Callie’s pooch and gives Geno a look.

“So skinny.”

Geno pouts and Sid laughs, leaning up to kiss him. “Make sure to eat enough. If you don’t eat, you can’t take care of the dogs.”

“Always take care of me,” Geno says fondly and pulls Sid close. “Always take care of dogs too.”

Sid squirms closer, careful not to dislodge either of their bowls or Callie. The house is warm and his belly is full of stew. It’s dark outside and cold. The dogs are sleeping comfortably in their houses and tomorrow they’ll go on another run with Geno.

There’s nowhere else Sid would rather be.

#sidgeno fluff fest #sidgeno #not hockey players #mushers #sled dogs #snow and puppies #i will put this on ao3 later #fluff #au #sidney crosby #evgeni malkin #yes their dogs are named after hockey players and russian cartoons

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ansgiftexchange · 6 years

Text

Office Gossip

*For @claudeng80! Merry Christmas! Thank you so much for being so awesome and I hope you enjoy my gift!*

(Modern AU, w/c~1,700)

Kai strolled into the building, whistling a Christmas tune while holding two Starbucks coffee cups in his hands. Shiira sighed, sitting straight in his swivel chair. “You’re late.”

“That’s because I had to get us coffee,” Kai explained, sliding a cup to him as he sat down next to him.

“They have coffee here. If you remembered that you wouldn’t be late all the time.” Shiira grabbed the cup anyway and took a slow sip. “Thanks.”

“I don’t feel like setting up the coffee maker, you know.”

They were the first people inside Wistal Headquarters, setting up the security cameras and checking the daily agenda for scheduled client meetings. It was their responsibility to know each and everyone going in and out of the building, know where everyone was at and what they were doing.

“Are you bringing a date tonight?” Kai asked as he stapled the blank sign-in sheets.

Shiira shook his head, eyes glued to the glass doors of the building. “Are you?”

“No.”

A few early bird employees trickled in. The cleaning lady Marina was on time today, nodding her head toward the two guards as she walked straight through the office doors behind them. Shiira glanced at the small video screen in front of him, watching Marina head to the kitchen and prepare the morning’s coffee pot.

There were clicking and beeping noises at the front door, like someone trying to get in the building without permission. Shiira dropped his head, sighing with second-hand embarrassment. “Shirayuki! You have to swipe, wait for the click, then pull!”

Shirayuki swiped her badge and pulled the door handles immediately—not waiting for the click. “It’s not working, Shiira!” she shouted, voice muffled by the glass between them.

“Fuck it, just press the button and let her in,” Kai huffed out, swirling his coffee cup. “There’s a line forming behind her.”

“No, she has to learn. Besides, that button is for the handicap,” Shiira explained, facepalming, walking toward the doors. What will they do without him, he thought.

Before Shiira could manually open the door, there was a commotion behind the growing crowd. “Excuse me, I got this. Morning, Shiira.” Obi shoved his way to the front of the line. “You’re an embarrassment, Miss.” He grabbed Shirayuki’s badge, tugging it harshly and nearly crashing her face to wall.

“It doesn’t work, Obi,” she insisted, a tinge of red growing on her cheeks.

Obi swiped her card, waited half a second and pulled the doors open. He glared down at Shirayuki, his face so close they could almost kiss. He flicked her badge out of his fingers, letting it smack into her nose. “It works.” Shiira wedged the door open, letting the rest of the cattle in. He nodded lightly at each one, softly greeting them a good morning.

Shirayuki and Obi dragged inside, bickering on their way in. “You’re such an ass, Obi,” Shirayuki snapped, arms crossing against her chest. “Morning, Shiira. Morning, Kai,” she said chirpily, her tone completely different from a second ago.

Obi whistled, hands behind his head, hips grazing Shirayuki’s as they walked side by side. “You mean a hot ass,” he said, winking at Kai. “Whatever you say, Miss.” He opened the office doors for her, one hand gently placed at the small of her back, corralling her in.

Shiira caught Obi’s impish smile toward Shirayuki and watched the doors slam as they went in.

“Oh, my God. Those two hate each other,” Kai chimed in, elbowing Shiira. “Seriously, they have so much tension, you could cut it with a knife.”

Shiira gave him a quizzical look. “You mean sexual tension.”

Kai nearly choked on his last drops of coffee. “Yeah, right! Obi and Shirayuki? When pigs fly. She’s in love with Zen.”

Shiira shrugged and kept his next thoughts to himself. They were security guards, fo goodness sakes. Water-cooler gossip was for the bored and useless workers…they were professionals.

“Speak of the devil.” Shiira darted toward the entrance. Zen walked in with so much confidence like he owned the building. He practically did—owning thirty-five percent of shares in the company.

“Good morning, you two. Did my package arrive?” Zen said coolly.

Shiira nodded his head, ducking down to the desk and taking out a large, but lightweight, package. “It arrived late yesterday, sir.”

Zen shook it like he was guessing the contents inside.

“What’s inside, if you don’t mind sharing,” Kai asked. He was nosey, but always polite about it.

Zen flashed him a smile. “A suit I’ll be wearing tonight.”

He headed toward the office doors but stopped suddenly like he had forgotten something. “Oh, by the way, hold my calls around noon,” he started, a hand on the doorknob, “I’m having lunch with Shirayuki.”

Kai nodded fervently, a giggle forming at the back of his throat. When the door had finally shut, he squealed like a little girl.

“Oh, my God, he’s so in love with her.”

Shiira shook his head. “They’re just having lunch, idiot.”

“Yeah, but he asked to hold his calls. When has Zen ever asked to hold his calls on his lunch break?”

Shiira lifted a finger, but Kai interrupted him instead. “Never. The answer is never, Shiira.”

The caterers and decorators checked in at different times. It was already a busy day for the two guards and it was barely 1:00 PM.

The interns had their lunches delivered to them—a perk Izana gave them earlier in the year.

“An ice sculptor? For reals?” Kai lifted an eyebrow, double-checking the guest list. “God, the boss is a little extra this Christmas.”

“Why are you complaining? It’s not your money he’s flashing.”

The room echoed in giggles and laughs. Shirayuki and Zen smiled brightly at each other, both carrying doggy bags from the Italian restaurant across the street.

“The tiramisu is amazing,” Shirayuki said, green eyes lighting up.

Zen narrowed his eyes down at her, a coy smile tugging at his lips. “I figured. You ordered two of them!”

Shirayuki hid behind a hand, face turning red as her hair. “Well, I wanted to save one for…”

“Hey, you two!” Kai shouted, waving them toward him. “You guys should check out the room! There’s fake snow, dude! And mistletoes everywhere!”

Zen and Shirayuki exchanged shy looks, then turning their heads to the side. “Well, I got a lot of work to finish before the party,” Shirayuki blurted out. “Thank you for lunch, Zen.”

Zen nodded, one hand massaging his neck as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, no problem. See you tonight?”

Shirayuki smiled at him, walking inside the office without another word. Zen followed after, chuckling to himself as he closed the doors.

“Oh, my God. They are so in love,” Kai chirped.

Shiira lifted an eyebrow, his lips straight as a line. “More like friends. Did you see how far apart they were?”

The conference room transformed into a Winter Wonderland. NSYNC’s “Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays” blasted through the speakers, and Shiira found himself bopping his head along.

“Money can buy you happiness,” he observed, grinning from ear to ear.

“It’s a wonderful feeling, with the love in the room from the floor to the ceiling…” Kai sang along, snapping his fingers on beat. His eyes darted to the bar and he stopped singing. “Shiira, I gotta go. There’s a drink over there that’s eyeing me.”

Shiira walked around the room, watching people immersed in their conversations. There were a lot of them wearing Santa suits. How original, he thought. He headed toward the photo booth, adjusting his tie like he was going to take his school pictures.

The booth was occupied. Red Santa pants with black shoes peeking right below the curtain stops. There was a giggle and a soft moan inside.

Shiira hesitated to move, but wondered if he should come back in a few minutes to give the two occupants some privacy. The moaning continued, two lips smacking against each other as Shiira patiently waited for his turn.

The shutters stopped clicking, but the two occupants continued their romp inside the booth. Shiira glanced over to the dance floor, catching Kai’s gaze. Kai was goofily dancing, arms flailing over his head. Shiira was ready to join him when his eyes dropped to the photo strip that fell on the floor.

Holy shit. Shiira picked up the photo, his eyes flew open in surprise. There was only one red-head in the building, and the pictures showed her face buried inside a fake white beard. It was impossible to recognize the Santa, especially since the four pics had his face underneath Shirayuki’s jaws, neck, and behind her ears.

He placed it back inside the printing station and bolted toward the dance floor. Not my business, he said to himself.

“This party is lit, Shiira!” Kai shouted into his ear. It was electronic music, remixed in between Christmas tunes by Nat King Cole.

Shiira glanced over to the DJ Booth and saw Mitsuhide—Zen’s assistant—controlling the knobs. “Of course he’s playing electronica.” Everyone in the building knew Mitsuhide had shitty taste in music. But it was Christmas and he was smiling brightly and Shiira couldn’t help but smile as well.

Shiira and Kai grooved to the beat, popping and locking like two goofy robots with no rhythm. It had been a while since Shiira had let loose, and today was special.

“Hey, have you seen Shirayuki?” Kai asked, swaying his hips to “One More Time,” by Daft Punk. “Zen is looking for her.”

Shiira shrugged, moving his legs side to side. He loved this song and his body moved along naturally.

“No, I haven’t seen her,” he lied. He didn’t like lying to Kai, especially since he trusted him the most. This was big gossip and he did not feel like partaking in this kind of drama.

“Hey, Kai,” Shiira started, grinning from ear to ear. “Wanna take a shot? I Ubered here.”

Kai nodded violently, a squeal escaping him. “Fuck yeah, Shiira! It’s about time! Holy shit, it’s a Christmas miracle!”

They high-fived each other, eagerly walking to the bar, side by side.

#ss17 #submission #gift

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adreamingsongbird · 7 years

Text

on the note of college campus fearless squirrels, @piyo-13 and i were discussing college aus ft. squirrels when i said “‘there are three squirrels in your lap eating bread crumbs from your hand and i'm going to call you snow white from now on’ au”

and then we decided to make it victuuri and i liked it so i’m writing it down to save it, haha

yuuri is snow white. he’s sitting under a tree in the field in the middle of campus to have his lunch, earbuds in and music loud enough to ignore the world, but hey, the squirrels running around are cute. he tears a piece of the crust from his sandwich and holds it out to the one that keeps staring at him. there’s an inquisitive nose-twitch. he stays still, smiles encouragingly, and keeps holding out his hand.

soon enough the squirrel is eating out of his palm. and then another one wants some, and then a third, and--well, it looks like he’s going to run out of sandwich, but on the plus side, he’s made some “friends”, and he can’t stop laughing to himself as they run across his lap

and viktor, sitting nearby, is charmed.

(partly because this beautiful boy is not only beautiful, but also he’s fearless enough to let the Squirrels From Hell get that close to him? holy shit? and his laugh is so beautiful and that smile is fit of a disney prince, and the Squirrels From Hell and oh shit he’s so screwed--)

now, viktor walks makkachin on campus a lot, and what he doesn’t know is that his beautiful snow white has already noticed him. in fact, snow white thinks he is intimidatingly handsome and hasn’t quite worked up the courage to tell him, but admires from afar and also secretly really longs to pet makkachin and tell her she is beautiful.

so one day viktor happens to go back to the field with makkachin and sits down, lets makkachin off her leash to roam around nearby, and settles in to read this one novel for his literature class. half an hour later he notices makkachin is no longer romping around or rolling in the grass next to him and panics, jumping up to go look for her, only to find that snow white has charmed his dog just as surely as he charmed the squirrels. makkachin is lying with her head on snow white’s thigh, and he has forsaken the statistics homework on his laptop to coo over her and scratch behind her ears and tell her how lovely she is.

(”chris,” viktor asks later that day, when he gets back to his apartment. “is it bad that i was a little jealous of my own dog earlier?”)

(“only slightly,” chris answers, patting his shoulder. “there, there.”)

“oh no, i’m so sorry,” he starts to say. “makkachin, leave the nice boy to do his work--”

“NO!” snow white yelps, then immediately claps a hand over his mouth. makkachin sits up and looks at him, confused, but doesn’t leave yet. “i mean--sorry--i just--she’s not bothering me at all, it’s fine!! i’d love for her to stay i would literally throw myself in front of a bus for your dog i love her so much--oh my god i sound so weird i’m so sorry--i mean--wait what was her name again?”

oh no, viktor thinks, sitting down hard in the grass right then and there. oh no, he’s even more adorable up close. oh no, i’m s c r e w e d.

and this is how viktor finds out (after some fumbling attempts at halting conversation) that snow white’s real name is yuuri, that he’s a statistics and business major, and that he loves dogs. yuuri finds out a good deal more about viktor, including that he’s a little bit scared of the campus’s terrifyingly fearless squirrels, that his favorite thing at starbucks is a caffé mocha with an extra shot of espresso, that his little cousin yuri is such a cat person that it’s a crime against humanity, and that he loves to ice skate.

(”phichit,” yuuri says, later that day, when he gets back to his apartment. “phichit, i met fluffy dog boy today and i barely talked to him because he’s too intimidatingly pretty and i froze up and just petted his dog the entire time and he probably hates me and thinks i’m so weird oh my god--”)

(”shhhhhhhh,” phichit says, smothering yuuri with a hamster-shaped pillow until he stops talking. “there, there. now, let’s take this from the top. you finally talked to fluffy doggo boy?”)

(”yes,” yuuri wails, and grabs the pillow to shriek into it.)

shit this post is getting long i’ll stop babbling (i still have so much to say, i didn’t even get to half of what we talked about hahah) but yeah the mutual pining is real and it’s all because of those goddamn squirrels

(later, after they’ve started dating, viktor still has yuuri saved in his phone as “snow white”. when yuuri, bewildered, asks why, the answer is a cheerful kiss to his nose and a “because you’re the fairest of them all, of course!” before viktor starts to wonder if he should change the name to be a tell-tale heart reference, because, after all, yuuri did steal his heart.)

#songbird makes aus #so yeah this is what im doing instead of writing trfl oh my god why can i not focus who knows #but i had fun with this post so lol oh well #long post #victuuri #viktor nikiforov #yuuri katsuki #yoi #written #yoi written #sorta????? its not quite a fic but it kinda is idk

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carbonjen · 7 years

Note

I had this dream that Dick is this stupidly affectionate white wolf that crosses paths with Jason, white fur matted with blood, and Jay, who has this connection with animals (maybe he works at a sanctuary), decides to nurse him back to health (his neighbours have a conniption when they see Dick thinking he's Jay's new dog but "Laura, have you seen a dog that big?!"). Jay has knowledge of magical beings and suspects Dick is probably human. But then the dream ends! Could you perhaps finish it? :)

So normally I don’t skip ahead in my prompts list to write certain things but god, I just love the idea of this AU so much that I have to.

White Wolf of Winter

Wordcount: 4,700

Dick was out in the forest hunting and stretching his legs. Sometimes when he was human again and visiting Bruce back in the manor, he questioned his decision to live a mostly nomadic life in the wild. When he was outside and wind running through his fur, all the regrets melted away. It had taken a long time before Dick was able to go out and feel unafraid of the hunters that roamed hunting his kind.

Dick wasn’t surprised to hear that wolves and shapeshifters had been hunted back in the day, but now? When wolves are seen as a myth, they shouldn’t still be hunted, but Dick remembered standing over his parents’ dead bodies and crying. Bruce Wayne, who had been on a hunting trip of his own, had found him in the middle of the woods and given him a home and an education.

Dick had gone off as soon as he was able, living the life he’d lived with his parents and becoming one with the wolf inside him. It was risky for him because his snow white fur stood out in most climates. Winter was when he really got to let loose, romping through the snow and going anyplace where the ground was white.

He was running around in the woods after the snow had melted, only small patches of it on the ground, when he heard a gun go off and then felt searing pain in his back leg and flank. It was worse than anything he’d ever felt and he had to get somewhere safe. He avoided the patches of snow so he wouldn’t leave a blood trail.

Dick felt something tugging in his chest and he followed it without caring what it would lead him to. After what felt like hours, Dick arrived in a rural neighborhood. He stepped up onto the deck and hoped the person in the house he’d approached as kind as he collapsed on their front porch.

Jason was reading a book and winding down for the night when he heard a loud thump from outside. He grabbed the poker from beside his fireplace and went cautiously to his front door, turning on the light and then peeking out the peep hole. He didn’t see anything but he saw a shock of white at the bottom of the view. He pulled away, unlocking his door and opening it to reveal a bleeding pile of white fur. He crouched down and a head lifted up, glassy blue eyes looking at him.

“What the hell?” Jason asked. This was definitely a wolf, but he’d never seen one like this with fur as white as snow and sapphire blue eyes. He followed the pool of blood to the source and saw the hole in the wolf’s leg which was twitching even as Jason looked at it.

The wolf whined at him and then laid his head back down on the deck, whining again.

“Okay,” Jason said. This wolf was lucky Jason knew what he was doing. He helped out at an animal sanctuary nearby. He hadn’t worked with wolves, but he worked with enough wild animals that he knew what he was doing. There was also a hint of something else buzzing under his skin and Jason couldn’t quite figure out what it meant.

“I am going to carry you inside and get you patched up but you have to promise not to bite me,” he said. “I’m going to go get a towel.”

Jason returned with a towel, gently lifting the wolf’s rear end, grimacing when he saw how much blood had collected. The wolf whined again. The sound wasn’t great, but at least the wolf wasn’t growling or snapping at him. Another thing that made this situation abnormal. Most animals didn’t react like this unless they’d already been sedated. There was a small chance someone had taken this wolf and dropped him on Jason’s porch.

“I know,” Jason said as he dragged the wolf inside, gently so he wouldn’t jostle him. He was glad he had wooden floors but the trial of blood that was left behind them wasn’t good.

He got his first aid kid and set it up, pulling gloves on. “What happened to you?” The question was more for himself than it was for the wolf. He looked at the wound. “A gunshot,” Jason said. He looked at the wolf’s leg and there was no exit wound. “And the bullet is still in here,” Jason said as he grabbed the first aid kit, pulling out the forceps.

“This is going to hurt but I’m going be as quick as I can,” Jason said. The wolf whined and Jason felt a slight ache in his chest. He pressed his hands gently around the wound, expecting the wolf to growl or bite at him, but he just whined and whimpered. Jason felt the bullet and he grabbed the forceps, pulling out the bullet as quickly as he could and dropping it next to the kit.

He grabbed bandages next, but that wouldn’t even begin to clean up all the blood all over the wolf’s fur. Jason made quick work of cleaning and sewing the wound and then putting gauze and bandages on it. He’d wrapped legs before, so the wolf would still have a decent amount of movement.

“There,” Jason said as he leaned back. “I’m going to work on cleaning this up and then we’ll get you some pain killers.”

Jason made quick work of cleaning up the mess on the porch and in his hallway. He had some supplies from the sanctuary at his house from when he’d been taking care of animals that needed 24 hour care. He also got a basin, filled it with warm water, and some more towels.

“Looks like I’ll be able to work from home for the next few days,” Jason said as he put peanut butter on a spoon and tucked the pain pills inside it, letting the wolf lick it off. He put more peanut butter on the spoon and let the wolf work at it while he cleaned his fur.

Jason closed his eyes as he was working and he felt a familiar pulse in his hands. Magic. It was rare to feel magic in today’s society, but sometimes he ran across it in the form of an escaped companion cat or a magical creature disguising itself in the real world. Jason had been gifted with the ability to sense it. This wolf was probably a companion animal for a witch or wizard somewhere in the woods. He wondered if the wolf would want to go back to his owner or if his owner would seek him out. Either way, Jason didn’t mind how friendly the wolf was being.

Jason finished cleaning the wolf and dumped out the water, starting a load in the washer with an extra dash of bleach.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m going to bed, you look like you’re pretty comfortable there,” he gestured to where the wolf was sprawled out on the floor. “See you in the morning.”

Jason took a quick shower and when he got out he settled in bed but he got up when he heard a strange scrabbling and thumping noise. He stepped out of his bedroom and sighed when he saw the wolf attempting to climb up the stairs.

“Oh no you don’t,” Jason said as he ushered the wolf back to the living room. He turned around to leave, but the wolf limped after him. “Stay,” Jason commanded as he brought the wolf back to the living room, waiting until the wolf settled down again before he left. Yet again, he was followed and Jason sighed.

“Fine, fine, I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, just stay down here while I get a pillow.” He ran upstairs and the wolf actually listened this time as Jason got a pillow and blanket from his bed.

“You’re such a weirdo,” he told the wolf as he settled down and went to sleep.

The wolf’s behavior over the next few days remained peculiar. He insisted on following Jason around everywhere he went, even if it pained him or pulled at his wound. He was also docile, and at times, Jason felt like the wolf understood him. No wild animal should be so attached to a stranger, but here they were.

Jason was sitting outside, watching as the wolf wandered around, sniffing around his property and relieving himself. He would run to Jason, sniff around him, and then run back out to the yard to explore, always keeping an eye on Jason to see if he was there.

“Jason!”

He turned when he heard the familiar voice of his neighbor, Linda. “Hey Linda,” Jason greeted, waving to her. “How is everything?”

Linda shrugged. “Oh you know how it is, pretty boring, but I see you’ve livened up your life a little bit. I always did peg you as a dog person.”

“A dog person?” Jason asked, but then his eyes followed Linda’s gaze over to the wolf. “Oh, uh, yeah,” he said.

“He’s absolutely stunning,” Linda said as the wolf approached. He sniffed around her, but would flinch away or avoid her any time she made a move to touch him. The wolf snuffled, indicating his indifference to her before he went back to Jason, looking him up and down, sniffing his hand, licking it, and then returning to the yard.

“He was surrendered to the sanctuary,” Jason lied. “And I’ve been patching him up and keeping an eye on him to make sure he heals well.”

“It looks like he’s decided to keep you,” Linda said. “I have to go, but I just wanted to meet your new family member. Does he have a name yet?”

“I hadn’t thought of that actually,” Jason admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He was more baffled right now by the fact that Linda didn’t know a wolf from a dog, but that was a blessing in disguise.

The wolf came back, looked at Linda again and sent Jason a disdainful look and Jason just stared back, stunned that this wolf was even capable of that expression. He plopped down at Jason’s feet and closed his eyes.

“He looks very much like a Frosty or a Snowy to me,” Linda said. “See you soon, Jason, you too puppy!” She bent down and said it in a baby voice and the wolf sent Jason another look.

When Linda was gone Jason laughed, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you hated her.”

As Jason went inside, he tried to pretend the snuffle he got in return wasn’t approval.

Jason was able to remove the bandages from the wolf’s leg a few days later. He suspected the wolf still had some muscle damage, but the wolf took it all in stride, following Jason everywhere he went including following Jason upstairs and sneaking into his bed at night.

Jason was reading a book out loud (something the wolf had insisted on, Jason hadn’t questioned it) one evening when the wolf started whimpering and writhing around on the ground. Jason knew that if the wolf was having a seizure there was nothing he could do so he watched as the wolf shook on the ground.

Then something that Jason had never seen before started happening. The wolf’s skin started moving and shifting and it made noises, like the cracking of bone. It was like there had been a camera on the wolf and it had gone out of focus. Jason blinked a few times as the color of the wolf went from white to something else and the wolf’s shape changed entirely.

Less than a minute later the whole ordeal was over but the wolf was gone and in its place was a man. A naked man. A naked man who was probably the most beautiful thing Jason had ever seen.

“What the fuck?”

Familiar blue eyes met his but this time they were framed by black hair, golden skin, and fine features. This was totally unfair, Jason was just starting to get used to the wolf in his house but now the wolf was gone and there was a hot guy in his place.

“You were right all those times you said it,” the stranger said. “I’m not just a normal wolf.”

“Uh, yeah,” Jason said as he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and practically threw it at the guy. Jason tried not to look at how beautiful the lean muscle of the man’s arm was when he moved and adjusted the blanket over his lap. “No offense,” he said. “But when I said you weren’t a normal wolf I thought you were some kind of domesticated wolf or a companion animal, not a fucking shifter.”

“It wasn’t like I could shift back and tell you,” the stranger retorted. “I had silver poisoning, I couldn’t shift back until it was healed enough and even then, I didn’t shift back on my own, it just happened.”

“So the silver thing is real?” Jason asked. “I thought that was for werewolves.”

“All wolf shifters are werewolves but not all werewolves can shift whenever they want,” the stranger explained, it sounded like a phrase he’d recited a thousand times.

“How did you know to come here?” Jason asked.

“I didn’t,” the stranger said. “I felt this weird tug in my chest and it brought me here. I do want to thank you, by the way. If no one had taken that silver out of my leg, I could have died. I might have been able to bite it out, but it still probably would have killed me. I owe you.”

“You’re welcome, I guess,” Jason said. Everywhere he looked, the stranger was beautiful, it was hard not to stare wherever his eyes wandered. “So you know my name, right?”

“Yeah, it’s Jason,” the stranger confirmed. “I’m Dick, Dick Grayson.” He held out a hand and Jason shook it, the skin was warm and smooth.

“How’s your leg?” Jason blurted.

“It hurts,” Dick admitted. “Normally I heal faster, but again, silver. I was able to turn back, which is a good sign.”

“Do you want me to take a look at it?” Jason asked.

“Yes,” Dick responded almost a little too quickly and he looked away, a faint flush on his cheeks.

“Okay,” Jason said. “I’ll get you some clothes real quick.”

“I can get them,” Dick offered. “I know where they are.”

“Uh,” Jason stood up and held his hands out. “I’ll get them, just stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Jason went upstairs, grabbing a pair of boxers and a shirt for Dick. Both would probably be big on him but at least he’d be dressed. He took an extra few moments to take some deep breaths because seriously, what the fuck was this? What was his life if wolves dropped onto his porch and turned into hot guys?

Jason went back downstairs and Dick was on the couch. Jason handed him the clothing and Dick smiled before he went to change, still walking with a noticeable limp. Seeing him in clothing took away some of Jason’s urge to stare but he still looked amazing in Jason’s clothes, the long sleeves of his shirt hanging past Dick’s fingers.

Dick stepped back into the living room and Jason motioned for him to stop, getting up and kneeling by Dick’s thigh to take a look at the wound. It was still bruised and Jason poked around it a bit, ignoring how close he was to Dick’s more sensitive areas.

“I’m not a doctor,” Jason said. “But I know enough about wounds to tell you that you still have significant muscle damage. You really can’t exert yourself and you have to give this time to heal. If you hadn’t been so stubborn earlier,” he sent Dick a pointed glance and Dick’s skin flushed again. “I wouldn’t have let you go up and down the stairs so much. How much stress does shifting put on the muscles?”

Dick shifted on his good foot and that in and of itself was an answer for Jason. “Oh, you know,” Dick said. “A decent bit.”

“Then no shifting,” Jason said as he grabbed some bandages and started patching Dick’s leg up. “Not until the muscle is healed. I think you may have reinjured yourself a bit when you shifted back. Not that I blame you for that.”

Dick was silent for a few moments as Jason smoothed out the bandages and secured them in place.

“I live as the wolf,” Dick said. “I don’t know where to go.”

“You can live here until you can shift back without hurting yourself,” Jason said. “It gives me a chance to keep an eye on you.” He flinched. “I mean, your leg.”

“Thanks,” Dick said. Jason finished patching him up and went to the kitchen to watch his hands.

Dick was on the couch when he returned, looking kind of helpless as he stared at the floor.

“You can watch TV you know,” Jason said as he tossed Dick the remote.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve watched any,” Dick said.

“How long is awhile?” Jason asked.

Dick paused for a moment. “Aside from Christmas specials and the occasional movie at Thanksgiving? Five years.”

“Is that how long you’ve been out in the wild?”

“That’s a longer story,” Dick said. “I lived in the wild with my parents until I was nine. They were killed by werewolf hunters and I was found a few days later by a guy who was out hunting with a business associate. He took me in and made sure I was educated, taught me manners, and he let me run around his property, but he wanted me to be human and I’m not 100 percent human, you know? So I left when I turned 18. I go back around the holidays, but we always end up arguing after a few days and I leave again.

“It’s easier out in the wild,” Dick said. “You don’t have to spend all day at some job paying the government to stay alive. I would have been fine if I stayed with Bruce, but I wouldn’t have been happy. He wanted me to be a functioning member of society, but I just wasn’t meant for that.”

“Wow,” Jason whispered.

“I know it’s a lot,” Dick said. “I’m sorry for just kind of…dumping it out there.”

“It’s alright,” Jason replied. “You probably don’t get to talk to other people a whole lot, so I get it.”

“Yeah,” Dick said, a small smile on his face. He played with the remote in his hands for a few seconds before he turned the TV on. “I know nothing about what’s good anymore,” he said as he handed it off to Jason. “I’ll let you pick something.”

Jason turned on a movie, making sure it was something Dick hadn’t seen before. He got comfortable on the couch, zoning out as the movie went on. At one point he looked over at Dick to see if he was enjoying it and Dick was a lot closer to him than he had been when the movie had started. Jason paid less attention to the movie then, and more attention to how Dick moved towards him as the movie progressed. Soon enough, Jason could feel Dick’s warmth and Dick was pressed against him, head resting on Jason’s shoulder, dozing off a few minutes later.

Jason woke him up after about ten minutes. “Hey, I’m going to head to bed, let me show you the guest room.”

Dick stared at him for a few moments before he nodded, standing up and leaning on Jason as he stretched out his leg. He had to help Dick up the stairs but Jason left him in the guest room with a change of clothes and a promise to see him in the morning.

Jason read a few chapters of his book before going to bed, falling into a deep sleep.

Jason woke up in the middle of the night and it took him a few moments to realize the warmth and weight he was feeling over his body wasn’t some strange dream, it meant he wasn’t alone in bed. He turned the light on and pushed at Dick’s shoulder until the other male woke up and looked around the room as if he wasn’t the intruder in Jason’s bed.

“Dick, what the hell?” Jason asked.

“I guess I sleepwalked,” Dick said as he got out of bed.

Jason waited until Dick vanished into the hallway and he heard the guest room door shut before he went back to sleep. He woke up again with a warm body wrapped around his own and a face pressed to his neck. He didn’t bother turning on the lamp this time.

“Dick,” he said.

Dick nuzzled his shoulder, “Hmm?”

“You’re in my bed again, Dick,” Jason said but Dick made no effort to move. “Dick.”

“S’okay,” Dick said as he patted Jason’s thigh. “Go back to sleep.”

Jason grumbled but decided they’d talk about it tomorrow. Dick was warm and Jason wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t comfortable right now.

He woke up in the morning and Dick was still wrapped around him, head in the crook of his neck and leg tossed over his legs. Jason was tempted to stay where he was, but his bladder won out. He tried disentangling himself from Dick on his own, but Dick just latched onto him further and made soft protesting sounds.

“Dick, wake up,” Jason nudged his shoulder and Dick lifted his head up.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom and then I’m going to make some breakfast,” Jason said. “I need you to move.”

“M’kay,” Dick said as he unlatched from Jason, filling the space Jason had vacated before Jason was even standing.

Jason called work when he got downstairs, asking them if they had anything he could work on. He’d actually managed to take his time off during a relative lull in animals, but they promised they’d call him if they received anything.

He started making breakfast and he was stirring eggs on the stove when Dick perched his chin on Jason’s shoulder. Jason startled and turned around, wielding the spatula while Dick stared at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” Dick whispered. “What are you making?”

Jason relaxed and went back to the pan. “Eggs,” he said. “How do you like yours?”

Dick perched his chin on Jason’s shoulder again and Jason sighed. “Scrambled.”

If Dick’s behavior as a wolf had been odd, his behavior as a human was worse. Dick continued following him everywhere, eyes following him when he wasn’t physically following Jason. He cuddled up to Jason any time he got the chance, pressing his face into Jason’s neck or leaning against him. After a few nights of trying to get Dick to sleep in the guest room and waking up tangled in Dick’s limbs, Jason gave up and let Dick sleep in his bed.

One night when he and Dick were on the couch reading. Dick was curled up against him and Jason’s arm was around his shoulders as he read the book aloud. At one point, Dick reached up and put Jason’s hand in his hair. Jason set the book down and sat up, putting a little bit of distance between them.

“Alright,” he said. “I think we need to talk about…this,” he gestured between them.

“Oh,” Dick smiled awkwardly and looked down at his hands. “Uh, okay. Yeah. We can talk about it.”

“What’s going on?” Jason asked him. “I don’t understand if this is a wolf thing, or if this is a you thing, or if it’s something else.”

“Well,” Dick said, still not looking up at Jason, it was like his hands were the most interesting thing in the world. “There’s one little thing I forgot to mention about silver poisoning.”

“Okay,” Jason said.

“It can cause you to mate,” Dick said, the words coming out in a rush. “And I think I mated…with you. Well….not think. I know. But. Yeah. I uh. You’re kind of my mate or whatever.”

Jason tried to process the words. He still barely knew anything about werewolves since Dick didn’t talk about the lore of it too much. He’d talked about how he’d lived in the woods and what it felt like to run free, but he’d never mentioned mating. Something deep within Jason felt a sense of relief that the strange behavior now had an explanation, but it was dwarfed by the part of him that was panicking. Was the attraction he’d felt the moment Dick had appeared in human form his own response to the bond between them?

“I’m going to need you to tell me what that entails,” Jason said.

“Well,” Dick said. “Even I don’t know a whole lot about it, but from what I know, I’m bonded to you. Being away from you is going to suck, well, it already does suck, which is why I follow you everywhere. And I think it’s something that lasts until I die. I don’t know.” Dick shrugged.

“I’m going to need some time to process this,” Jason said, handing Dick the remote and giving up on reading for the night.

“I understand,” Dick said, playing with the remote in his hands. “Do you want me to go to the other room or I can go outside?”

“You can stay here,” Jason said, extending his arm, an open invitation for Dick to come close.

Dick looked at him, careful as he settled back against Jason. He let Dick get comfortable before he started running his fingers gently through Dick’s hair. It was soft and Dick melted into the touch, his whole body relaxing against Jason as they watched TV.

So far, the bonding hadn’t been terrible for Jason. Dick was attractive and Jason enjoyed the connection they shared so far. He was getting used to Dick constantly latching onto him and he was beginning to make it part of his daily routine. He did wonder what it meant for Dick, who was used to roaming the wild and had been there for the last five years. Jason knew he would want to go back and while the woods behind his house were spacious, he couldn’t help but wonder if they’d ever be enough.

“We don’t have to be in a relationship,” Dick said after a long period of silence. “We could just do this and I’d be happy.”

“What about your life as a wolf,” Jason asked. “Won’t you miss that?”

Dick shrugged. “I think I’d miss you more.”

Jason was quiet, but he pulled Dick just a little bit closer.

They were both quiet as they went up to bed, before they got settled under the blankets, Jason pulled Dick close. “Come here,” he whispered. He looked into Dick’s eyes for a long moment, searching their depths. Dick stared back, quiet as he waited for Jason to say or do something. “I want to try something,” Jason whispered.

“Okay,” Dick replied.

Jason leaned in and pressed their mouths together. Dick made a soft noise and Jason pulled away, Dick’s eyes were closed and his mouth was open slightly. Jason pressed back in and Dick kissed him back, lips warm against his own as Jason cupped his cheek and slipped his tongue into Dick’s mouth. Dick melted as Jason explored his mouth. They pulled away to catch their breath and Dick mouthed at Jason’s neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there.

“You really like that spot, don’t you?” Jason couldn’t help the smile on his face as he tipped his head back to give Dick better access.

“Smellsogood,” Dick breathed, making a soft noise when Jason’s hand started moving through his hair. “All of you smells so good,” Dick’s voice was practically a whine as he collapsed on top of Jason.

Jason shushed him holding Dick close and carding his fingers over Dick’s scalp. Dick whimpered into the skin of Jason’s neck. “What is it, Dick, what do you need?”

“You,” Dick whispered.

Jason pulled him up and kissed him again, allowing Dick to explore his mouth and nip at his lip until they were both out of breath.

“I think,” Jason said. “I’d be okay trying a relationship with you.”

A few days later, Jason was making them breakfast when he noticed a very familiar presence at his back. “Good morning to you too,” he said.

Dick sighed and wrapped his arms around Jason’s waist. “This was a lot more fun when you got startled.” He buried his nose in Jason’s shoulder, inhaling Jason’s scent. Dick had mentioned how much he liked the way Jason smelled and how it brought him comfort, but he’d never mentioned what Jason smelled like to him.

“What do I smell like?” Jason asked as he stirred the eggs in the pan.

Dick thought for a few moments. “You smell like home.”

#jaydick #carbon writes #my fic #my writing #prompt fill #white wolf of winter #wolf!dick verse

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preciousrichard-blog · 7 years

Text

Second Thoughts, Second Chances (Sniper/Spy)

Chapter 5: Blue Ink

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9419246/chapters/22002980

Rating: Teen+

Chapter Summary: Sniper isn’t the best at close combat, but he’s even worse when he has to fight himself all day. Luckily someone who understands is watching over him.

When he woke up it was dawn, but somehow, Sniper was having an incredibly lazy and comfortable morning that day. Instead of getting up ahead of everyone else and heading to the point before anyone would speak to him as usual, he curled up into the warm nest of his covers. He drew his legs up and sighed into his pillow, nearly clinging to it as he indulged in the heat that had built up under the blankets. When the last of his dreamy thoughts faded away and his eyes finally stayed open, he turned and admired the bright sunlight filtering through the window from a crystalline blue sky. The color of the cloudless expanse reminded him of Spy's piercing stare, and with it came the slow recollection of the night before that soaked into his bones and made his whole body feel weak. He touched his mouth gently, the way Spy's kisses had been, and his heart sputtered. He wondered why he felt so strangely happy, but told himself not to question it too much. Really he knew the reasons, but confound it he was just too embarrassed to admit it. He sat up, working the phrase consider becoming mine on his tongue for a short while, but rubbing at his eyes and face when no clear answers came out of it for him. He shook off the thoughts along with his covers then slipped out of bed and into his work clothing.

The base was still quiet this early, as most of the others slept in. He was grateful to be an early riser as he passed into the bathroom and began his usual routine. As he finished brushing his teeth he lifted his grayish blue eyes to his own reflection in the slightly dirty mirror. He looked at himself hard, furrowing his brow when he got closer. Spy had called him handsome last night, to which Sniper stuttered lamely in response. He was skilled without a doubt and self-reliant to his core, but handsome was the only adjective he simply couldn't wrap his head around. He squinted at himself, and traced the lines on his face with his fingers. He frowned when he pulled at the deep creases beside his mouth, noticing for once how old they made him look. Laughter lines my arse, he winced, suddenly regretting ever taking up smoking and spending too much time in the outback sun. He raised his eyebrows and spotted more slight creases across his forehead when he did, then dropped his head in a form of defeat. I'm still in my thirties and I look like a bloody geezer, he grumbled to himself before taking one last look at the mirror. What does he see in me? He thought, with a nagging question of whether he’d been lied to. He flipped open the handles of his reflective yellow aviators and slipped them onto the bridge of his nose. He felt better seeing part of his face hidden behind them, and made to open the bathroom door. He paused and considered shaving in case he saw Spy that day- then shook his head, huffing as he walked toward the mess hall.

Halfway through his eggs on toast, he lowered the newspaper he was idly reading to the sound of clicking heels. He let the paper fall to the tabletop in his hands while he took a sip of coffee from his mug. He knew who it was by the sound, and lo and behold the RED spy sauntered into the room. He didn't so much as look at the sniper as he crossed the Australian's vision, yet offered a curt "good morning" as he approached the cupboards.

"Mornin'..." Sniper said back warily, watching the man behind his sunglasses as he poured himself a cup of Sniper's coffee. "I thought you hated my stuff."

"Yes it's disgusting." The RED spy said flatly, ignoring Sniper's gaze, "But- I am in a rush."

"A rush? Where to...?" Sniper asked, surprised at himself for pressing at all. Perhaps it was that vague resemblance to the man who shared countless comfortable conversations with him that spurred it.

Spy gave him no glance, but looked at his watch, "That's none of your business." He bit back with cold and emotionless tone.

Sniper noted how quickly the man finished his coffee and set the cup in the sink, and figured he really must have had some important business to attend to. He lifted his newspaper back up and continued to eat, but his eyes were locked on the other in silent observance. He was the same height as the BLU, and they even had the same accent, but somehow his teammate seemed harsh and snobbish compared to his enemy counterpart. Sniper envisioned the RED spy in place of the BLU in his camper last night, and felt sickened as soon as he did. He felt nothing beyond professionalism toward his teammate that much was for sure.

"Before ya go-" Sniper spoke, "Soldier said I missed a briefin'. Mind fillin' us in?"

The spy straightened a bit and glanced around as if to think before finally looking at the Australian for the first time since he walked in. He was giving him a confused and rather judgmental stare as he spoke. "We had no briefing." He said, "I expected you of all people wouldn’t believe a word that infantile bafoon says."

Sniper grit his teeth. "Better safe than sorry's all." He said back, trying not to sound as angry as he now definitely was.

Watching the spy examine him for a moment then turn on his heel and leave, he pushed his plate aside and folded the newspaper. He resented that he'd been fooled into doing what was most likely Soldier's chore in the first place yesterday, and even considered "accidentally" shooting him between the eyes later as payback. But something else was bothering him, and he only got so far as to wonder how the RED spy could be such a cold bastard to him when the enemy spy was thoughtful and polite before an energetic young scout came romping in.

"Heya Snipes!" He chimed, never stopping his stride and jogging in place, "Ready to kick some sorry blue ass today?"

"I'll leave the kickin' to you kid." Sniper offered disinterestedly, a quiet thought flickering in the back of his mind that he'd probably have to kill BLU Spy at some point in the day.

"Heh yeah, I am pretty great at it." Scout continued, "I been workin' on my calves- man they are lookin' sweet-" he chattered, going into the details of his workout routine as Sniper stood to wash up. "-I bet'chu I could break one'a them boards in half like in the movies-"

Sniper offered an occasional thoughtful grunt in response to the talking he was only half listening to, and once he set his dishes on the rack to dry he grabbed the pot off the coffee machine and turned to leave.

"Oh that's right you always go out early- that's cool- I'll just finish the story later- hey nail that other scout in the head for me would ya?" Scout grinned with infuriating cockiness.

Sniper waved at him lazily as he walked down the hall. He didn't even realize the boy had been telling a story at all, and he certainly didn't intend to shoot any scouts in the head unless it was convenient. The little hooligans were too fast, a waste of good slugs, and frankly not often a priority. He opened his locker in the resupply room, and as he felt the cool metal of his weighty rifle in his hands, he wondered if he really felt invested in his job that morning. He was under contract to kill anything blue on the battlefield, and as long as he did that much then ideally nothing else was of much importance. He tensed with the physical effort of sorting his personal life away from his professional life, which he hadn't needed to do since he first signed up for the job. He’d killed the Spy just fine when they were having friendly chats and didn't feel bad about it. He wasn't about to start feeling bad now. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder he set the image in his mind of all the ways he'd watched spy die in front of him. He ignored the numbness creeping into his arms as he sheathed his kukri.

The first match began at 9 am sharp. The gates opened to the announcer's cutting voice and the red team poured out of the resupply and toward the central control point. Everyone seemed eager to get the upper hand with a first capture after the last stalemate. Sniper was less than thrilled in the cold however, and trailed behind the group, covered by the medic and heavy that brought up the rear. When he'd clambered away to his warm and dry nest at a comfortable distance, he set up shop. For the next hour, no one had held the point for more than 15 minutes at a time and the morning was beginning to look like a repeat of yesterday’s draw.

I should'a brought me hat, Sniper thought as he took aim at a rogue blue pyro and fired. Where did I leave that thing? Ah it's still in my bloody van innit? He pulled the bolt handle and the bullet casing clattered to the floor. Maybe that fancy mongrel's whole plan is to put me off me bloody game. He loaded a round in the bolt and pushed it forward, Well jokes on him, I'm feelin' better than I have all week. He glanced behind himself at the thought of the BLU spy, but found nothing there and took aim. He muttered a quiet insult at the enemy heavy before firing, but the big man had been knocked back by an explosion at just the right moment and the shot missed. Sniper cursed himself, but reloaded with mechanical movement that took less than a second. Another casing clattered away from him. But he kissed me. He thought, He wouldn't go that far, no one's that evil. He felt his heart clench but he took aim again anyway, We're mates... We've been mates fer almost a year. He couldn't be that despicable... He fired, landing the shot on the heavy this time, and watching him topple into the snow. He kissed me. He reloaded, He kissed me four times. Wait... Three times. I think I dreamt that last one. He winced at himself. Oh for Christ's sake I even dreamt about him! What the bloody hell's wrong with me? He fired and shot the blue engineer in the shoulder as he ran back for cover. He took a deep breath and accepted that no amount of sorting would keep his mind clear until he faced the issue head-on. But that would require him to give Spy a solid answer, which he simply just did not have.

By the next hour the blue team had pushed the reds back to the fourth point. Sniper was forced to leave his roost and make a dash for a position closer to the base if he didn't want an ass full of bullets or a rocket to the face. He was clipped by an explosion of sticky bombs that obliterated the RED pyro on his way back to resupply. He held his arm in his hand as blood oozed from between his fingers, it was something he was used to, but the pain was still enough to make him groan in agony. Pain and dying always hurt, sometimes it was even excruciating, but working with Mann Co. and TF Industries meant it would never last. Healing was always instant and death was more or less a joke.

Nonetheless, pain and losing always puts a man in a bad mood. Even fully healed and safely tucked away in his nest, the sniper was brooding about the distraction Spy's memory continued to bring him. It's all crazy. He thought, First I lower me gun to an enemy and next thing ya know he wants to start neckin'. His abdomen felt heavy with coffee and he reached for a glass jar lying sideways on a barrel. This is the best job I've ever had, why should I risk throwin' it away for some French tart who's bound to toss me aside later? He frowned, unzipping his pants and relieving himself into the empty container. And what if someone caught on, that kind’a business follows a man fer life. He screwed the lid back onto the jar and set it aside, straightening his shirt and pants before lifting his gun again, He's a lunatic, it's just askin' fer bloody trouble. He fired at the BLU soldier as he flew through the air, hitting him in the liver, but it was just enough to kill him when he impacted on the ground. Sniper chuckled darkly to himself, finding a grizzly satisfaction in watching the bodies tumble limply into the snow.

He felt silly, thinking he'd let himself get carried away at all by the spy's advances. Sure he was attractive and lively and surprisingly kind, but Sniper couldn't possibly believe he'd enjoy being a couple. He'll probably treat me like his lady friends anyway, he silently sneered as the fighting quieted down below. Last thing I need are flowers on me doorstep or useless knick-knacks I ain't got any room for anyhow. Fancy bloody wuss he is. He glanced behind himself just in case. Frenchies are all soppy romantic types, he'll probably get all touchy n' cozy n' what have you. I wouldn't even know what to do with him. The thought was intended to deter him, but Sniper found he wasn't as opposed to the concept as he assumed he'd be. He shook his head, no, he wasn't cut out for the type of romance Spy would have in mind. He'll probably have me give up the camper! Sniper started, eyes going wide as he envisioned having to part with his beloved van. Me job, the camper? I don't even know how bloody serious that snake is. It won't work - absolutely not. He shook his head firmly and planted his foot to aim his rifle, feeling certain. I'm better off alone. He assured himself to the sting of an unhappy heart.

The next hour was the liveliest yet, as RED managed to push the blue team back not only to the middle point, but back toward their base. The reds held the second point and the odds were greatly in their favor when the engineer's sentry pushed back an enemy ubercharge just long enough to waste it. Invincibility or none, those turrets of his could turn an entire match. Sniper was feeling rather good about himself when he popped the medic between the eyes two times in a row, and he'd almost forgotten he was working when the BLU sniper switched out for a bow and arrows and took his chances in the open. Needless to say Sniper was elated to have such a fulfilling hour. He wondered though why he hadn't once seen even a glimpse of the BLU spy since the day began. It was relieving of course, yet somehow unnerving. Initially the Aussie wondered if he was up to something, but as time ticked by it became more unnerving in a different way. He couldn't be hesitating. Sniper thought, chewing at his lip, He's too proud for that. Unless... He felt uneasy at the prospect of his spacing being a sign of his seriousness about their conversation. No... That couldn't be right. It don't matter that much to him do it? He turned again toward the wall behind him; a consistent instinct to check the empty room for sneaky Frenchmen. His heart felt funny, and he wasn't sure if it was regret or fear or embarrassment or something between the three. Suddenly all of his certainty was thrown for another loop, and he found himself not knowing what to think again.

He fiddled with the cap on his telescopic lens; pushing it closed and popping it open over and over. He mulled over the sparks he witnessed in that man's eyes when he held him against the cold wall, and the carefulness with which he spoke and moved. He contemplated the warmth of his body and the broadness of his shoulders, and then clumsily let the barrel of his rifle bounce off the floor when he lowered it. He's not so bad. Sniper swallowed, feeling something familiar well up in his chest. Good looks, good manners... Never overstays his welcome. He furrowed his eyebrows, He's never asked much of me. Even puts up with the jarate'n still comes back. He ruffled his own hair and sighed, What if we did give it a go? I reckon he wouldn't wanna be caught any more than I do. I mean... We haven't been caught once fer all the times we chat on the job. He drew up his shoulders, feeling overwhelmed with the concept of having been the object of Spy’s affection all those times.

He's a man. Sniper gulped, feeling the fiery excitement in his nerves, A man. I never thought... Hell I never thought I'd end up with anyone let alone a man. Even if he does toss me aside... His breathing shuddered, ‘Least I can say I took the chance. He wrung his hands, This might be the only chance I ever get. He stilled, then audibly growled at himself and squeezed his fingers into fists. “I’d be bloody awful.” He whispered out loud, I have no idea what I'm doing. I'll make a moron of meself. He’s a smooth talking, experienced, good looking bastard and I’m…

Then there he spotted him, disguised as the RED engineer. He could tell immediately because the real engineer had just left to move his sentry up ahead. An instinct suddenly overcame him. He had to shoot. He didn't know exactly why, but somehow Spy's genuinely happy laughter echoed in his ears when he lifted his gun. He felt a tremble in his fingers as he lined up the sights, and hesitated to watch the man look around before pulling an electronic Sapper from his pocket. He heard blood fill his ears when the little red dot stilled on the back of his head. It was him. It was Spy. It was the man who admired his marksmanship. It was the man who kissed him. And Sniper didn't even feel the trigger move under his finger before that man's blood was sprayed across the wall, and his lifeless body fell forward. The sniper froze, chest pounding slow but hard. He kept his eye locked into his lens until blood pooled from the now blue suited corpse. The disguise had dissipated in a flash of smoke when he fell, and soon his body would vanish as the computers in the respawning room took him away atom by atom. He laid his rifle down, and lifted his palms up to question the way his fingers shivered. Finally he understood. This was true regret, even though he knew it was what Spy wanted him to do.

He jumped at the booming voice of the announcer through the speakers, declaring a victory for the RED team. Sniper hadn't even realized they were capturing the point and now they’d won. He packed up listlessly and ignored the five minute humiliation round outside. He didn't really feel like a winner.

The BLU Spy had managed to evade the humiliation round by dying just before his team's loss. He stepped out of the respawn room with a dull ache in the back of his head -typical of a 39 millimeter bullet to the brain. He rubbed the sore spot and stretched his neck, thinking with relief that the nervous kangaroo had it in him after all. He stifled a smile, glad to know the Australian could still work under such a unique type of pressure. The rest of his team materialized before him one by one looking as displeased as he expected. The pale and vaguely ill looking BLU sniper caught sight of the spy when he appeared and nearly stomped in his direction.

"Wanna warn a bloke before you decide not to do your damn bloody job hey?" He barked at the Spy, who glared at him as he lit a cigarette.

"I did my job." Spy replied to him flatly, offering no sympathy.

"Are you fucking mad? That sniper took out half our team on every bloody point and you sat around on your bloody arse pickin’ daisies!" He seethed back, "Your job is to take care'a that fucking bell-end!"

Spy's mouth twitched with the phantom of a sneer, and he blew smoke for a moment before speaking. "Au contraire," he puffed, disinterested, "I have many jobs in which I was quite successful. It is unfortunately no fault of mine that you are not successful in yours."

The blue sniper looked ready to lunge at the man when the medic joined them, "Herr Spy I must agree with Herr Sniper. That man was a vital target and because of him we lost two ubercharges." Although the doctor spoke softly, it was clear he was annoyed as well.

"Again I fail to see why I must always be the one to take care of a target much easier killed with a ranged shot." Spy reiterated lazily. "Yet I’m hearing no appreciation for the sentries I alone destroyed."

The sniper made to swing at the masked man, but the doctor held him fast, giving him a disapproving look before turning him away, "I expect us to work harder next round." Medic offered vaguely as he led the furious sniper into the nearest room.

Most of the others had filtered out of respawn during the exchange; they were no strangers to badmouthing after a hard loss. It didn’t matter much to Spy though, victories and losses were team efforts on the field, and they couldn’t stay mad indefinitely. He sighed and turned to leave when a meaty hand gripped his shoulder, turning him around.

"Good work out there son." The blue soldier grinned at him beneath his helmet, "You really saved my tail when you took out that red medic. One more second and that hippy’s guard dog would have ripped me a new behind.”

Spy recalled stabbing the enemy medic as he took cover behind the heavy, effectively costing him his kritzkrieg charge on the central point. It must have saved the soldier at the time, but Spy had run off too fast to catch it. He wished he could say he was surprised at the distaste the other supporting classes showed for his lack of intervention with the sniper that day, but he’d made an honest effort to make up for it in other ways.

"All in a day's work my amigo." Spy smiled, somewhat won over by the childlike charm of the BLU soldier’s recognition for his efforts where it was due.

He continued to avoid the sniper during the second match of the day, and the third. He steered clear of his sight lines and left him to enjoy an uninterrupted day of shooting for once. It was the least he could do to thank him for the other night, and it would be rather awkward anyway to strike up a conversation before the man had a chance to really think about his offer. By the end of the day he chuckled at just how many kills the Australian had racked up without a certain blue Frenchman to stifle his workflow. When he crawled under his duvet that night, Spy reached over into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a pen and tiny notebook. He jotted down a note in blue pen and neatly tore it out, folding it and setting it at his bedside. Running through a small plan in his mind, he sank deep into his luxurious goose feather pillows. He thought of Sniper, as he often did before he slept, and fondly looked forward to the following day.

That afternoon he jumped at the first opportunity he was given to scour the highest buildings in search of his favorite back. He crept with near silent steps around corners and up stairs, stopping to carefully peak into every room with a window. He heard voices up ahead of him and tentatively crept along down the hallway with his back against the closest wall. He tapped at his watch and cloaked, listening to any words he could make out. He heard the familiar gravelly tone of the man he was looking for, but he was speaking to someone in the room instead of himself this time. Spy nearly choked when the RED pyro sauntered out of the room ahead and trudged down the hall, flamethrower at the ready. Spy froze and held his breath, pressed up hard against the wall to make himself as small as he could be. When the demonic abomination of a mercenary turned the corner, he flicked open his disguise kit. In a wisp of smoke he became that very pyro, and slipped into the room with a practiced dramatization of their body language.

Sniper turned, glancing at the pyro before turning back, "I told ya mate I haven't seen him up here."

Spy smiled at the obvious reference to his person, but reached into his pocket and slid his balisong free, flipping it open. He could see the Sniper twitch in suspicion but drove the gleaming blade deep between his shoulders before it could culminate into defending himself. Sniper screamed, and Spy winced with that paternal type of expression that said "you tried." He grabbed the man before he could hit the ground with his full weight, and eased him to the floor. Kneeling with his pliant body in his arms he reached out, and with careful caress touched the man's cheek, fingers flinching when his bleary dying eyes flickered up to look at him. He watched, undaunted but open as Sniper parted his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Moments later the light left his gaze and Spy was sure he was gone. He smiled softly and gently closed the man's eyelids before his body could fade away.

"It's confusing the first time." He whispered, "But you've done well."

Sniper opened his eyes in the RED base, standing idly in the respawn room. His spine ached, and his mind was foggy, but he recalled the look on Spy's face before everything went dark. He had spent the entirety of last night laying in his bed, recalling his one and only kill on the Frenchman, and wondering why he felt bad for something he had been used to doing for years. But that look on his face just then- that understanding, reassuring look without a hint of regret or anger- it made him feel somehow better. He grumbled and made his way back to his nest, suddenly feeling a peculiar sense of normalcy in having been stabbed in the back at last.

Spy was there when he returned, leaning invisibly against the wall as the taller man scratched his head and sorted out his things after yet another death on the field. He stayed there, silently observing as the Aussie cursed under his breath and checked the alignments of his crosshairs after the rifle had clattered to the floor. He seemed content with them after a moment, and fired a round through the window into a passing blue down below. He checked over his shoulder as he reloaded, but saw no one there. When he grabbed the bolt handle he stopped, lowering the entire gun into his lap as Spy grinned to himself, arms folded. The sniper fiddled closely with the handle and pulled away a small paper wrapped tightly around it. Spy's smile only grew when he unfolded it and observed the contents.

Sniper stared down at the little piece of paper with the blue cursive script. He moved as if to crush it into a matted ball, but held it still in his hands before committing to any motion. The spy grinned when he angrily muttered "piss" to himself and tucked it away in his vest pocket instead. With a satisfied smile and a glow he could feel through his torso, Spy crept from the room, back to patiently awaiting Sniper's confident decision. The folded note remained in Sniper's pocket for the rest of the day, hiding away a private message

“Business as usual. ❤“

#tf2 #sniperspy #sniper/spy #sniper #spy #Team Fortress 2 #down undercover #fanfiction #chapter 5 is live!

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delightfully-daisy · 7 years

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I Got Sunshine || Titsy

Post-Valentines #realtalk. Cameo by Jake.

TITO:

After a few rounds and Tito nearly causing a blackout across Swynlake again, he and Daisy were content to lay on her living room floor, spent and exhausted both emotionally and physically. It had been a wild ride for the two of them. What started as them attempting to go to some fancy ass restaurant in another town, turned into them barely making it off of the Garage’s doorstep and barely making it to Daisy’s apartment down the road. It was definitely not what Tito had planned for the evening, but he wasn’t necessarily complaining.

With the monkey suit he got dressed up in and the intimidation he felt by going to a place that used multiple forks to eat their food, this was kind of a welcome relief if you ignored the fact that he confessed he loved her through song throughout the whole fuckin’ night. But she’d said it right back, with a blush that beat all her previous ones and they found themselves balancing on the edge between fucking and making love all night.

It was definitely midnight, or close to it, as Tito remained wrapped around Daisy, holding her body close to his, her head against his chest, nestled right beneath his chin as they laid on her floor together, a blanket from her sofa or someplace near it, he didn’t really know where it had materialized from, draped over them. They’d finished their final bout and were saying little sweet lyrics to one another when all of a sudden a meow came from the depths of Daisy’s apartment, virtually scaring the shit out of Tito.

As his heart calmed down, he spoke, “What the fuck?” He’d forgotten all about the little shit that lived here too. His brows shot up. Not only at the cat but also at himself. He could talk again? Well, he did feel a little different. Less like he was about to vomit up feelings and more like his stomach was going to devour itself over not having dinner. “Guess that whole crazy spell thing is over huh.” The question was, was their honesty about their feelings over as well? Would they even acknowledge what they said? And would Tito ever get something to ease his grumbling stomach? He was about to find out.

DAISY:

There had been a lot of sex. Like, a lot. Like, her legs were kinda shaking from all of it but honestly, if she really wanted to, she could’ve gone another round. But she wasn’t complaining with where they were now, lying on the floor of her sofa, songs still whispering around them.

She closed her eyes for a moment, head resting on Tito’s chest, wondering what this would all mean when the sun came up. Because there had been a lot of “I love you”s casually tossed around, the singers speaking for them. She didn’t know how much of that was true on his end. She didn’t know how much of it was true on her end. She just knew that there was something hanging between them now that wasn’t just casual sex.

Before she could say anything about this, she heard a meow and cracked an eye open to see Sabrina pop out from under the couch.

What the fuck?

“Sabrina!” said Daisy, sitting up and holding out her hand. The grey cat trotted over and pressed her head against Daisy’s hand. Daisy scratched the cat under her chin, pausing, trying to take time to recollect her thoughts.

She didn’t know what to say right now. Didn’t know what she wanted to say really, just knew that probably she should say something about all the love confessions to this guy she wasn’t even actually dating. Did she want to date him? She didn’t know--oh, it was all a mess right now.

“I suppose it is,” she said, keeping her voice light and airy. She was fully sitting up now, her cat walking across the blanket and kneading it with her paws. Daisy’s stomach grumbled and she turned back to Tito. “Er, do you want to order takeaway or something?”

What the fuck are we? Was what she really wanted to ask, but little battles first.

TITO:

The mechanic watched as the cat crawled out from under the couch, “Wonder if she was under there the whole time, ‘cause if so, she’s as kinky as her momma.” He teased slightly, trying to make things less awkward because despite how relaxed they were right now, they were definitely both having problems addressing the giant fuckin’ elephant in the room.

He nodded, sitting up as well and stretching slightly, looking around for his pants--or was it his jacket? That had his phone. He wracked his brain for something that they could get so he just said the first thing that came to mind, “Chinese good with you?” It was strange. They’d set out to go to this fancy five star swanky ass place with multiple forks and shit and now they were about to eat cheap takeout naked on the floor of Daisy’s apartment.

He got up, not really bothering for modesty at the moment, hell she’d seen all of this for hours tonight. He first came across his pants which he found did not house his missing phone so he tossed those aside and went to the doorway where he’d actually nicely hung up his jacket and fished out his phone from one of its pockets before returning back to the blanket because it was fuckin’ cold okay and Daisy and that blanket were warm. Also, his legs weren’t quite as up to standing as he would let on after their multiple rounds tonight.

DAISY:

She rolled her eyes.

“She’s a cat, she’s not kinky--I’m not kinky,” she quipped back, fixing her eyes on him now. “I don’t think at least, I don’t know. I don’t have a comparison, forgive me--but yes, Chinese food is okay. I think I have the menu somewhere on the fridge. Clarke eats there all the time.”

She watched him rummage around for his phone, before standing up and making his way over to his jacket by the door, letting her gaze linger on his bare back and keeping it on him as he turned around and walked back over to sit next to her.

Daisy had tucked her legs up to her chest now, Sabrina having walked off to sit by on the ottoman by the television now, flicking her tail and watching the couple on the floor, her icy blue eyes clear. Daisy shivered and pulled the blanket over her legs, resting her chin on her knees.

“I’ll take a number seven,” she said, as the phone started to ring. “Tell them to make it spicy and yes, I can handle it. They always ask.” She laughed a little then sighed softly.

TITO:

“Hey, I’m just sayin’. That move in the beginning was a new one and I ain’t complaining.” He shrugged with a smirk, obviously referring to her touching and tasting herself in front of him at the beginning of their first romp tonight.

Surely enough he’d found the menu for the place by the fridge, wondering briefly if the kid from NYC he’d met with the skateboarding dog was on the job tonight as he settled back down beside her, body propped up against the sofa as he dialed the number.

It started ringing as he held it to his ear, listening to her order while running his fingers along the muscles of her back and across pointed shoulder blades, dipping down along her spine and lower back in a soothing little pattern. The guy who he guessed was the owner or something he didn’t really know answered the phone. “Hey, uh can we get a number twelve and a number seven. Both spicy.” He rolled his eyes at the question that came back shooting Daisy a look. “Yeah, of course we can handle it. Who the fuck do you think we are?” It was his phone ordering skills and etiquette from back in NYC appearing, he sent Daisy a wink before continuing, “Oh and can we get like steamed dumplings and some spring rolls too? Yeah those ones.” He fished his wallet out of his pants that had landed in the general vicinity of the sofa when he tossed them earlier as he gave the place Daisy’s address. “Alright. Yeah thanks, bye.”

He glanced over at her with a small smirk, “Be here in 20 minutes.” He set his phone down and continued his light touches along her shoulders and back, sitting up a bit more to press a kiss to her shoulder. “You good?” He’d noticed the shiver earlier and it was a little drafty with how cold it was outside. They were still in a snow filled Swynlake winter. “I could grab another blanket or somethin’.”

DAISY:

She was sort of zoning out now, and closed her eyes, feeling his fingers tracing on her back and she sighed again. At once, she felt comfortable and at ease, but she couldn’t shake this creeping feeling of fear that was rising in the pit of her chest. Maybe fear was the wrong word. It wasn’t fear; she knew fear and fear was deepset and dug its claws firmly into her. This treaded light. Unease, perhaps. Apprehension. Whatever it was, she could not push it down fully and latched onto the first distraction she could.

“I can pay,” she said, rising some and reaching to swat Tito’s wallet from his hand. He pulled away from her though and she scowled. Daisy didn’t mind paying ever; especially since she had the means for it, had known so since she was a child. Yes, she had everything given to her on a silver spoon but that didn’t mean she couldn’t share the spoons.

He’d hung up and she was still making a face at him when he kissed her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” she said. “You don’t even know where the blankets are and I can’t possibly have you mess up my system--they’re all sorted by color, I’ll have you know.” A smile tugged up on her lips and she rested her head back on her knees, scooting closer and pulling the blanket up. “I’m paying,” she added.

TITO:

Tito felt weird having her pay for his shit. Well, one, it was his pride. Two, it kinda reminded him how much better off she’d been and how he wasn’t anywhere close to that. So really, there was no question, he was paying. “Nope. My treat.” He hoped they wouldn’t bicker further about it but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. They fought a lot. Not in an unhealthy way but in a who could get the upperhand sort of way.

“I could find ‘em.” He quirked a brow, squinting slightly at her words, “You have a system? For blankets? Would I really fuck it up though? Like I’m taking something out of it I’m not tryna put something in and disorganize shit. Just tell me what color or whatever, I dunno.” He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her to pull her closer and keep them both warm while they waited for their take out.

There she went again with the paying. “You’re so frustrating.” He said this with a smile on his face, “Listen, I’m paying for my girl, chica.” He immediately realized what he’d just said and wanted to curl up and hide. Did he really just call her his girl? Outloud? Shit, fuck. Fuck, fucking shit. Why? He couldn’t even fucking blame it on the spell anymore because that was gone.

DAISY:

Honestly? She’d been about to launch about the closet where she kept her blankets and towels and how if you just grabbed one everything would fall apart and how it was very well organized to fit the maximum amount of linen material, thank you very much but then he said two words that stole that whole stream of sentences from her lips.

My girl.

Also that he was paying.

She decided to address this first.

“I was going to buy you dinner anyway, I can still pay,” she said. “You don’t have to, I mean, even if--” And her cheeks colored here and she was having a hard time meeting his eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I mean--what do you mean?” She fixed her eyes back on him.

Her heart pounded slightly and she felt like she was going to be afraid of the answer to that question, even though she did not know why. She felt her heartbeat catch in her throat and she curled her hands on the blanket.

“Shouldn’t you ask me first?” she said, her voice small, a little bit cute. Her grip on the blanket tightened.

TITO:

Maybe he could just pull this blanket up over his head and she’d pretend she didn’t hear him. Yeah? Good plan. Excellent. Just need to grab the--Oh and she was talking now. Too late. He was found out. Shit, fuck. Bracing himself to be laughed at or somethin’, why would she want to be his girl or like--And then she launched into the paying thing again which definitely needed to be further argued.

“Listen, yes, I offer out of pride but also I’m not letting you answer the fuckin’ door like that to pay some teenager while he eye fucks the shit out of you. Nah, not happening so I’m paying. You can get the next one if it matters that much to you. Though I’ll fight you on it too.” He faltered when she started asking questions though.

What did he mean? His girl. Like, he wanted to date her? Well, yeah, shit, he’d be one lucky asshole if he got to do that. His whole body was tense, bracing himself for the inevitable downfall that was--Oh…

His grin grew so wide as he looked away and ducked his head slightly at her words, choosing to poke fun at them first before starting anything more because he honestly didn’t think he could get it out right now. “You know I seem to remember you sayin’ somethin’ like that on the dancefloor when I kissed you that first time.” He looked over at her, eyes glancing her over grin still on his face as his eyes met hers. He leaned over to kiss her softly, it was brief but necessary to quell his nerves a little. Pressing his head to hers, his smile was smaller now and he grew softer and more quiet as his heart pounded in his chest from the nerves that were bunching up in the pit of his stomach.

“So… you wanna be my girl, Daisy? My...well, uh, my girlfriend?” He gave a hopeful little smile at the end. He’d never done anything like this before and he was afraid he was doing this all wrong, but that’s kind of what Tito did. He just kinda charged in with no plan and everything kinda turned out okay in the end.

DAISY:

Daisy was very bright pink now, blushing madly, more so than ever (which, as a reminder, was saying a lot considering how much she did blush).

There were a lot of things going on in her head right now. Ten to be exact.

One, was that yes. She would.

Two was that her mother could not know.

Three was that she was going to graduate soon, that she already had her pick of jobs lined up for her after--all in cities, London the closest, San Francisco the furthest, all far away from Swynlake.

Four was she did not care about two and three.

Five was that, okay, maybe she did a little.

Six was that Toulouse would give her hell for this.

Seven was that well, grumpy ol’ Lou was divorced right now at the ripe old age of 21 so he couldn’t talk about romance to her.

Eight was that this small, almost vulnerable smile of his right now was absolutely making her melt and she wanted nothing more than to grab his face and kiss the word “yes” into it a million times over.

Nine was that when Nic had been dating that girl from Ohio, their mother would not talk to him.

And ten was that she did not talk to her mother much anyway.

She did not say anything just yet, just reached a hand to touch the side of his face gently, her fingers still slightly cold, but his cheeks warm. She wished there was an easy answer to this question. She wished she could say yes, and not “yes, but…”

“Why would you want me to?” was what left her lips instead and she was puzzled at this, because that had not been one of her Ten Thoughts, but in a way, it all boiled down to that question in the end. She shook her head a little. “I mean. I want to. I...But I’m a mess. I don’t know how to do this. I’m..” Graduating, she wanted to say, but then again, that was in a bit and she didn’t want to look like she assumed they were going to be together for all that time. Her fingers curled, she darted her eyes away for a second, then swallowed, then looked back at him. “You’d have to let me pay sometimes, okay?” A little smile was tugging out on her lips. “And I drive my car. And…” Her voice faltered a little here, but she shook her head and then leaned it on his shoulder. “And you can’t be too mean to me, okay? Only for fun. Sometimes.”

TITO:

Well, that wasn’t exactly what he was expecting her answer to be.

Well, he didn’t really know what her answer was going to be.

Really, there had been two options he guessed. She either flat out told him no, because what they were doing was fun and nothing more than that. Also she had appearances to keep up. Also that her family wouldn’t approve. Also that she was going places and he wasn’t and he’d just drag her down.

Or she could say yes and kiss him and say fuck everything that he just listed off and she really did care about him.

The list of things on the former had all been said to him in one form or another. He’d never asked a girl out but in the beginning when he realized the ladies from rich families liked him, he’d been hopeful. That was quickly kicked out of him and later on, he was always the first to roll out of bed and escape down the fire escape without a passing look to whatever was going to be thrown at him or who was chasing him out.

But she asked him why? Like she didn’t know how amazing she was?

She started talking and rambling and Tito didn’t really have a chance to get a word in edgewise, though the end of it did kind of sound like a yes. He took a breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he kind of had to bare his soul or whatever the fuck.

“Why? You gotta ask me why, Daisy Canard?” Tito looked at her a small little smile tugging at his lips, amused at that question. “Thought all those lyrics kinda spelled it out but let’s go over all this shall we? Aight, so you’re the most frustrating, annoying, wonderful, hot, intelligent, sexy, beautiful, witty girl who’s ever given me the time of day.” He was getting lightheaded from the fact that he really didn’t breath during that exhale of words, his nerves hitting him hard. “Shit, Daisy, I care about you. So much. I told ya that back during the hounds and honestly, it makes me fuckin’ mad as shit to think that there’s even a possibility that you could go do whatever with some other asshole and I’d have to be chill with that because I didn’t get the fuckin’ balls ta ask you to be mine.”

He snorted at the next bit, “Listen, I can’t promise that I won’t still try to pay every time but I can be persuaded. And your car, well, we’ll see about that.” He smirked over at her his signature little smirk before it dropped to a more genuine smile, eyes finding hers as he threaded his hand into hers, “As for me being mean, I’m an asshole. I know. A real… putain or whatever the fuck you called me back when I kissed you. And you’ve seen my temper so I’m not gonna pretend that I’m not gonna say shit and put my foot in my mouth.” He let out a chuckle. “But, I can promise if I ever do I’ll feel bad about it immediately and do whatever the fuck it takes to make it better.” He rested his head on hers, “I actually think I’ve gotten a fuckin’ lot softer around you so that’s kind of a problem for my rep, chica.”

He took a deep breath before the next part, he had to keep going or I’d probably never get out and this whole night had just been one platform to do that right. “I mean, I think the real question is why would you--” The knock at the door came and Tito was a little startled, broken from his momentum with Daisy just looking at him now. “I, uh, I should--yeah.”

He grabbed the blanket to wrap around his waist like a towel, letting it hang from his hips as he grabbed his wallet and opened the door to see a familiar face with all their food. “Ai, Jake, man. Wondered if it’d be you tonight.” He grinned at him, leaning against the door and attempting to take his mind off the conversation he was just having or about to have, “You don’t got a date or somethin’ tonight?”

JAKE:

Man, today had been rough. He’d been singing all day--and, while the rest of the world was making out and sticking their tongues down each other’s throats, he’d been rejected. Because the cool girl who was definitely much prettier than he could ever hope for was going on a date with another one of their friends. It was fine, really. He was over it.

Jake was super thankful when the spell was over and his boss could bark out orders actually in English--instead of trying to communicate through Jackie Chan’s music, which Jake only caught snippets of.

So he hopped on his little delivery bike with this order and peddled to the fancy apartment complex near the university, ran up the flight of stairs and knocked on the door.

It was that guy from the park who answered--the one from New York too. Jake cracked a smile.

“Hey man! Looks like you had a good time.” And yeah, Tito was like only wearing a blanket. Woops. Jake flushed a little red but shook his head. He decided to play it off cool, didn’t wanna get into his feelings or whatever.

“Gottta make that cash flow if I ever wanna take a girl out, you know how it is. But, hey, enjoy your food!” He handed the takeout boxes to Tito, glancing in the apartment--which was very pink and ornate--and figured it was not Tito’s place. “See you around, dude. Have fun.” He gave a garish wink, two thumbs up, collected his tip, then another wink, before heading back out.

DAISY:

Now before Daisy could really truly process what was going on--other than the fact it was making her chest all floaty and tight at the same time--the doorbell rang and Tito got up before she could even process the question he had asked. The question that she could guess he was hinting at, but the one that she perhaps did not know how to answer either.

While he talked to the kid at the door--it sounded like they knew each other--she reached for his shirt that was splayed on the floor and put it on, buttoning it up halfway so she wasn’t totally naked if the kid decided to come on in. Thankfully, he left with a goodbye.

“Oh thank God,” said Daisy when Tito walked over, holding out her hands and wiggling her fingers. “I’m famished--don’t get anything on the carpet though, I will make you clean it and then kick you out.” She glared at him playfully, but then laughed, rummaging around in the plastic bag for the takeout box and popping it open.

The silence settled over them and she wondered if she should say anything about the question that he had not gotten to ask. She hesitated, taking her time to break the chopsticks apart and rifle through the bags for napkins.

“You’re tenacious,” she said finally, after swallowing a bit of her spicy chicken. “And I like people with passion. You’re good-looking, that certainly helps.” She was blushing a brilliant pink now, fiddling with her chopsticks, legs crossed. “You’re a fantastic dancer. You aggravate me but--in a good way, I don’t know. I--just know that I want...you...to...uh…” She fumbled, blushing again. “You know.” She looked away, biting down on her smile and stuffing some rice in her mouth instead.

TITO:

Tito grinned slightly at Jake. The dude looked a little bummed around the eyes, ya know? Wasn’t his total rad self. Plus where was his dog? Lounging about and talking watching some soaps or something? Who knew, man. Anyways, Tito made sure to give him an extra tip. Not that seeing him in this half naked glory wasn’t tip enough but yanno, he was a nice guy and Jake was a nice kid.

He turned back to the room, brows shooting up at Daisy now wearing the shirt he bought the other day. Well, his shirt. Damn. Like wow. She looked better in it than he did. He didn’t know if it was the food he was smelling or the sight but man was his mouth watering.

Tito snorted at her comment, he didn’t believe for a second that that wasn’t true. “Ya mean ya don’t want duck sauce on your carpet as a reminder of how amazing this night was?” He teased, though if he were being honest, it was kind of an amazing night all around. He teetered the packet on a finger faking like he was gonna drop it before setting it back into the bag and grabbing his food and chopsticks.

They ate in silence. He was mostly quiet because he had the habit of getting too excited about talking and talking with his mouth open and that wasn’t really the greatest impression he wanted to make on his new girlf--Wait did she even really say yes? Like it was implied but like? Did she? It all seemed like it happened forever ago.

As he ate and kept quiet about the question he was going to ask, it seemed like Daisy had read his mind already and was answering it. He kept his mouth closed, grinning with his eyes slightly as she mentioned how good he looked. He swallowed his food, watching her turn pink has she spoke, before he really did smile. “Yeah, well, aggravating is kinda my specialty, cariña.” The pet name slipped out and he chuckled at himself slightly. “Nah, I really don’t know… you gonna have to explain it to me. I’ll wait.” He looked at her with a smirk, food in one hand as his legs crossed and his hand came up to prop up his chin with an arm against his leg.

DAISY:

Daisy was blushing quite madly now and she looked very firmly into the little box of rice she was holding. Perhaps if she just paid very close attention to her food, she wouldn’t have to actually answer.

But no, Daisy knew that was a cop out that she had just made up for herself. She had been instructed and taught at a young age--and further on as she pursued her career--that her feelings did not matter, that it was better to ignore them and work for the good of others. (That, of course, being the simple, perhaps all-too negative view of it). Nevertheless, Daisy could give her thoughts and opinions on things such as earmuffs, Yves St-Laurent’s newest line, turning 22--but when it came down to her feelings, her real true, honest, raw, emotions, she hesitated.

“Must you make me spell it out for you?” she said, with a little shake of her head, her cheeks still burning. She managed to look at him now, feeling something catch in her throat. “I want you to look at me. And just me. And I want to have to ask if I can invite a plus one next time someone throws a party. And I...God, I don’t know. You don’t know either, I think. We can figure it out together.” She flicked her eyes down again, but then back up meeting his, ducking her chin down slightly. “That’s what I want. To figure it out together.”

TITO:

Hearing the words straight from her own lips directly at him was entirely different than him just assuming it. It was final and he now knew she had feelings for him and wanted to be with him. A smile just blossomed across his face so wide that he couldn’t contain it. She was his girl. Officially. She wanted to be with him. Figure shit out with him. His heart soared and he wondered how the fuck it wasn’t exhausted by now from its acrobatics tonight.

He leaned forward, hand reaching out to grasp under her jaw gently as he pressed a soft, tender little kiss to her lips. Tasted like Chinese food so that was new but everything else just seemed so comforting and familiar. He looked her in the eyes and said softly, “I already only look at you, chica. To kinda prove that, I uh… well I was gonna give you somethin’ tonight. Or I was gonna like chicken out on it or whatever but--” He stopped trying to find his words before he just decided to pull back and show her. He got up from his place on the floor and went to his jacket fishing a letter out from the pocket before returning to her.

“So like… Happy Valentine’s Day and shit. Uh, Imma just eat my food while you read it.” And with that he curled back up under the blanket and dug into his food, his smile still not leaving his face even though he was a little insecure about the letter itself and his ability to write as well as her which was why he was hiding his face behind chopsticks and noodles, averting his gaze. He could only hope she’d like it, which by what had just gone on, he guessed she would. All Tito knew for sure was that they started out with a weird ass spell, fucked a shit ton, ate take out and now he had a fuckin’ girlfirend. Maybe Valentine’s Day in Swynlake was alright after all.

#titsy #haha #ha #haaa #idk #this is gross dont read this

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flytsofangels · 7 years

Text

The Fan Mail Fix

(Written for my daughter on her birthday. Hope you like it. I sure love you!)

Yuri was tired.

He’d spent the last few hours trying to perfect the new moves in his routine — step, turn, repeat — and he had just about had enough. Enough practice. Enough ice. Enough cold.

Enough wondering what that mark was really supposed to mean.

After all, when you’re born into a world where your soul mate is marked by a coloration that created a letter of the alphabet on the skin of your hand, you’re supposed to be more relaxed. More secure. More certain that there really is someone out there for you to love and who will love you in return. Wasn’t that the whole point? To be able to feel secure?

But he didn’t. Because his hand and his reality didn’t match.

Because … well … Viktor.

Viktor. Who hadn’t bothered to show up to coach him today. Who was probably sitting around in the hot spring or stuffing his face or …

Or being completely adorable with that floof of a dog of his …

Viktor. Whose name started with a “V” and not the “B” that was clearly marked on Yuri’s hand.

It was what made Yuri so tired: thinking in these circles against the yearning of his own heart. Because his heart told him that Viktor was the one. The man who caused all those fluttering butterflies to romp around in his stomach when he saw him. The man whose lips Yuri desperately wanted to feel under his own, if only to know how soft they were. And to make those butterflies dance around inside of him even more energetically.

Yuri could see himself with Viktor well past the time that either of them would be able to perform even a single Axel, sharing every moment and thought with each other until they were very gray and very … well, not as athletic as they both were right now. And not as driven to win at any cost. That would be a nice day, someday.

But right now, Yuri was consumed by his need to train and succeed. And he would happily say that Viktor was making that possible. His new coach was helping him make all of his dreams come true.

Except for that ultimate dream. The one that was promised on his hand.

Yuri tugged the hood of his heavy coat up and stuffed both of his mittened hands into his pockets, dropping his head to stare at the snow-covered sidewalk that would lead him back home. When he had trudged up to the Ice Palace, the skies had been gray in the kind of way that always promised snow, but he hadn’t realized that so much of the white stuff had drifted down from the heavens while he trained. If he had known the weather was going to turn, he would have kept himself at home. Snow could be so unpredictable; he might have been trapped up here, alone. With only his circular thoughts to occupy him.

Not that he had managed to get away from them during his training. Once the movements had been impressed onto his muscles, Yuri had used only the smallest portion of his conscious mind to tell his feet, legs, arms, and torso what to do next. Instead, his mind had wandered back to his greatest conundrum.

Why was there a letter “B” on his hand when he loved someone whose name started with the letter “V”?

There were two easy answers, of course. The easiest — the one that didn’t go most powerfully against what he had been taught from the moment he had been born — was that he didn’t actually love Viktor. He probably was just experiencing an infatuation, based on the fact that the internationally renowned, champion figure skater had left behind his own dreams of more time in the spotlight to seek out and coach Yuri. It had been the Russian’s choice: there was no way that Yuri could afford to reimburse or adequately compensate Viktor for the time and energy that had been poured into the hours of training during the past few months. He was almost forced to accept it as a gift, and that fact made it even harder for him to face his new coach with any offerings of his love. He owed Viktor too much in his professional life to try to drag the Russian into his personal life, too.

On the other hand, the other easy answer was that the tradition was wrong. Even though he had been raised on the idea that there was a soul mate in the world for him — someone who had a name that matched the first initial clearly marked on his hand — he had been raised with some other, equally as false ideas. Like you could catch a cold simply by walking outdoors in winter with wet hair. Or that you can see the Great Wall of China from space. Just because that’s the way that people had always thought things would work didn’t mean that was true. He felt his love for Viktor too deeply and achingly for him to simply dismiss it. So perhaps this soul mate tradition was wrong.

Except every experience in his life said that it wasn’t. His parents. Yuko and her husband. So many, many others.

Yuri sighed and watched the heat of his breath form into a misty vapor that wrapped around his head. If he wasn’t careful, the vaporous breath would cover his glasses, making it impossible for him to see where he was going for a few steps. Not that being blind in the snow was dangerous here in town, but he didn’t like that idea of not knowing where he was going. He might step off a curb into traffic or twist his ankle on something he couldn’t see.

Or he could lose his heart to the wrong person.

It was useless, he reminded himself, to continue to think about it at all. He wasn’t going to solve anything by chasing his own tail like this. It was better to push it into the background and concentrate on his skating. At least that would keep him occupied. Mostly.

Stepping through the front door of his home, he stomped the snow from his footwear and slipped out of his coat. After hanging it from a hook by the portal, he sank down on the step and tugged off his boots, placing them where the melting snow wouldn’t seep into anyone else’s shoes. Sliding his feet into his house slippers, he headed off to his bedroom.

“Yuri! Is that you?” his mother called to him.

“It’s me,” he replied, stifling the sigh that he wanted to let escape. He knew he should be more grateful that he was still allowed to live at home — was even welcomed there. But right at this moment, he wanted to be alone more than anything.

His mother walked into the room, a wide wooden spoon in one hand. “I’m so glad you didn’t get trapped by the snow. When I saw it get heavier, I was so worried about you. But then again, you would have been in your favorite place, wouldn’t you?”

Would I? he asked himself silently. The Ice Palace had been his favorite place. Until Viktor. Now — anywhere where his coach was was so much preferable. But his mother was waiting for an answer, so he said, “Of course.” If only to keep her from asking any more questions.

“Anyway,” she continued brightly, almost as if she hadn’t heard his response, “I need you to take Viktor’s mail to his room. It seems like he finally got his coach to forward it to him, and I really hate to disturb him, especially since he’s devoting so much time to your career. Can you carry it to him for me, please?”

“Sure,” Yuri mumbled and then turned to look at the huge, duffle-bag-sized mail satchel that was leaning against the wall. Surprised, he blurted out, “That? You want me to carry that to Viktor’s room?”

But his mother had already left the room. “Thanks, honey!” she called back to him.

Sighing again, Yuri walked over to the bag and looked down at it. Then he kicked it for good measure. It was just one more reminder of all the things that were more attractive to the Russian than him and his career. Out there, in the spotlight, Viktor was a star, the heart-throb of millions, the handsome and charismatic champion who had rocketed awareness of figure skating to new world-wide heights. Yuri had the hardest time understanding why one floundering figure skater had drawn his coach away from all of that.

Squatting down in front of the bag, he wrapped both of his arms around it and then used his powerful thighs to lift it. He tottered to one side, relying on his memories of the house to help him down the corridors until he was at Viktor’s door. With one foot, he pounded on the portal and waited.

“Come in!” Viktor called, his voice muffled by the door.

Yuri sighed in frustration. His hands were occupied simply keeping this giant bag of mail from spilling across the floor of the hallway. He kicked the door again.

“Come … oh … Just a minute …”

The door opened, and Yuri staggered forward until he was in the center of Viktor’s room. Unfortunately, his arms suddenly gave out, and the duffle hit the floor, the drawstrings releasing their tight hold and spilling a variety of bright envelopes and packages across the floor. He groaned at the mess and looked up at his coach.

“Sorry …” he started and then stopped seeing the small smile on Viktor’s face. That smile, those eyes, that face. It was almost too much, and Yuri turned away, squatting down in the mess and beginning to stuff the mail back into its container.

“You don’t have to do that,” Viktor said, moving beside him so that his knee brushed against Yuri’s. The butterflies that filled his stomach began to dance heatedly in excitement. “I can pick this mess up myself. After all, it’s really mine.”

“No, no,” Yuri disagreed reflexively. “I made the mess. I can at least …”

He paused when he heard Viktor laughing beside him and looked over at the stark white envelope in his coach’s hands. Or it was supposed to be white. Whoever had sent it to Viktor had pressed a set of lips coated with lipstick repeatedly to the white surface, decorating the paper with kiss after kiss.

It was like a graphic reminder of Yuri’s own secret desires, and he looked down at the envelopes and packets in his own hands.

“I get a lot of these,” Viktor said, a little laugh in his voice. “It’s wonderful to know that so many people love me. All kinds of people, all over the world.”

“Yeah,” Yuri said slowly. “That’s lucky for you.” But he could lift his eyes from the paper in his hand, and he also didn’t seem to be able to move. He heard the sound of ripping and the rustling of a letter being smoothed open and then that laugh, the laugh that he loved, echoed around the room again.

“Another marriage proposal. They just never give up.”

When you’re the prize, Yuri wanted to argue aloud, who wouldn’t fight forever? Who wouldn’t give up everything — including their dreams — just to be near you? To wake up beside you every morning? To go to sleep with you every night?

Angry with the despair that he could feel threatening to choke him, Yuri stuffed his handful of envelopes back into the mail bag. Unfortunately, one letter slipped out between his fingers, and he reached down to pick up the paper from the floor. Without thinking about it, he read the address listed on the front, staring at the strange characters, almost not believing what he was seeing.

“What’s this?” he said softly, extending his arm and seeing the envelope shake in his nervous fingers.

“What’s what?” Viktor replied, looking up from the box of chocolates that he had opened, supplied by another adoring fan.

“Here on the envelope? Is this for you?”

Viktor nodded. “Sure. That’s my name. In Cyrillic characters. You know that’s how we write in Russia, right?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. I hadn’t though about anything other than the characters used in English.”

“Well, that’s silly,” his coach said, popping a dark, creamy candy between those lips that Yuri longed to kiss. “People in Japan don’t even write like that. But I suppose you all learn English characters after you learn Japanese. Is it important? It just has my name and my address from my coach’s training center in Russia.” Viktor shrugged and turned back to his candies.

Is it important? Yuri gasped, gripping the envelope against his chest to try to hide the excited trembling that was racing through his body. Important? It was the second most life-changing moment of Yuri’s entire life.

Unable to believe that he had seen what his eyes had shown him, Yuri pulled the envelope away from his heart and stared down at the black letters chasing each other across the surface. With one trembling fingertip, he traced the first letter — the alien, Cyrillic character — that made up Viktor’s name. And his heart sang.

Over and over again, he followed the lines of the character. Not two angled lines, but a more swooping, curving pair with one straight line.

Like the letter “B”.

#yuri on ice #yuri au #writing

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carterashofficial · 7 years

Text

Okay so I know at some point last week i know I made a post asking about if anyone wanted a sneak-peek of the Sith!Andronikos/Pirate!Wenia fic thing I’m working on

So here are a few excerpts (not back-to-back bits, these are scattered throughout what I’ve got so far)

She ran after the Sith, his monster no longer hulking behind him, and skipped next to him. “They’ve probably set up a camp near the cliffs.”

He was silent under his dark hood, mouth twisted in distaste. Lord Revel didn’t seem like the talkative sort.

Then she’d talk enough for both of them. “Those are Banthas, Lord Revel, over there.” She pointed the top of a dune, smiling. “They’re-“

“I don’t need small talk or nothin’.”

Oh.

She shut up and plodded on through the sand.

Andronikos watched her suspiciously. She’d moved onto the ship quickly enough, and was politely talking to Khem. He could sense her fearful hesitance of the DaShade.

Khem seemed to be doing his best to make her feel welcome. He’d spent a good while hovering outside the kitchen door once the smell of baking bread filled the ship, until she’d caught him lurking and inviting him to taste a cupcake.

Now she and Khem were involved in their third game of dejarik. She’d won both previous games.

Andronikos wasn’t sure if she was alright or not. Wenia the pirate girl was… not the average pirate. She was too… sweet. Nice. Kind. Innocent. When he’d been told about a pirate girl he’d been expecting a hardened woman he could have some unattached fun with.

She looked up and saw him standing in the doorway and her eyes got huge. “You’re… not wearing your hood.”

“No.” He didn’t need to look all scary and mysterious here on his ship. So he’d pushed the damn thing off.

Either Wenia’s fading sunburn had suddenly gone back to being bright red or she was blushing. “I think I like you better without the hood.”

Heh. Maybe he could have some fun with her if she was going to flirt with him. He smiled faintly and headed to the cargo hold to workout.

“It’s just political shit.” Andronikos fixed his hood and stepped off the ship. “Been told Alderaan’s full of snobs.”

Wenia bit her lip. “Alright. I suppose I’ll stay here.”

“Yeah. Khem’s staying, too.” Andronikos turned and headed away from the ship, knowing that spaceport security wouldn’t dare stop him.

He mapped out a plan to get the artifact as the taxi took him to House Thul.

Figure out where it was, barge in and kill everything, and take the artifact with him. Andronikos thought it was a decent plan.

He entered House Thul and was lead to Lady Elena Thul’s office. And outside…

Andronikos appreciatively eyed the woman standing guard. Sith, wearing a skintight white bodysuit that left only a few key things to his imagination.

He knew she could sense what he was feeling. The woman strode towards him, a playful look in her red eyes. “You must be Lord Revel.”

“Yes.” Business first, pleasure later. “You?”

“Lord Moren.” She slowly let her eyes travel over him. “Your reputation proceeds you. I’ll have to see for myself which rumors are lies and which are true.”

Sure. Fine. He’d admit it.

Maybe it was a good thing Wenia was with him, he thought as she bandaged his arm where the ferizand hound had bit him. Elbows were difficult to look at.

She finished taping the gauze and put the supplies back into her pack, eyes downcast. She was avoiding him.

Good. He didn’t want anymore questions over stupid things. She could just look it up on her datapad. So no more questions. At all.

Wenia’s head snapped up and she turned her head, good ear facing the bushing on their right. “Do you hear that?”

What had he just told himself about the questions?

Before he could push out his senses a tiny little gray blob rocketed out of the shrubbery and latched itself onto her.

He activated one side of his dualsaber and raised to, ready to…

What was that thing?

Wenia smiled as she lifted it up. “Well hello there. You’re an adorable little thing, aren’t you?”

It was a baby rakghoul.

“Wen…” he warned. If that bit her and she got infected…

Andronikos told himself the only reason he didn’t want that to happen was because he didn’t feel like finding someone else who could talk to ghosts. It was the only reason. It had to be.

The rakling chittered and bobbed his arms.

“That’s a baby rakghoul, Wen.” He raised his hand and focused on its mind, ready to crush it so the thing could die.

She clutched the rakling close. “No! Please, don’t hurt it, it’s a baby.”

“It’s a plague carrier, it has to die.”

“No, Nikky- Lord Revel, please.” Wenia stared at him, imploring him to not kill the tiny beast. As if it could sense her mood, the rakling curled into her chest and chittered softly.

Nikky.

A nickname? Did she really like him that much? Or… not, he could remember her giggling it those nights they’d spent together.

He hadn’t minded it then, but now, out in public, him a Sith, her a… a nobody pirate cook, no, he couldn’t have her saying that in front of anyone who’d blabber about it. He wasn’t going soft.

Andronikos realized he’d lowered his hand. “If it bites you, it dies.”

She nodded silently, no longer looking at him as she moved things around in the pack so it could ride in the bag.

“And if it pees on any of my stuff, it dies.”

She’d named it Junior.

Andronikos wasn’t sure why that bothered him, exactly, but it did. The rakling looked nothing like Khem. Nothing at all. And they both knew Khem would hate the damn thing being named after him… Zash might not, now that he thought about it.

Junior was burrowed into Wenia’s hood as she talked to another ghost he couldn’t see.

The padawan, Ashara Zavros, was watching this entire exchange the way one would watch a protocol droid overheat and start running around Kaas city screaming swears in hundreds of languages. She must’ve sensed him looking at her, because she rolled her eyes.

Ah, the Jedi.

So pretentious.

Andronikos flicked his eyes over to Wenia, sensing her needing him.

“A- Lord Revel, the ghost said he’ll join you.”

“Good.” He shook her hand off his arm. “Just tell me where to put my arm, I don’t need you hanging off it like a monkey-lizard.”

That’d hurt her.

And the bad feeling in his gut got worse.

Wenia directed his hand to a very cold part of the air and pressed their palms together. Her eyes flashed purple for a moment, and then his bones were on fire, skull splitting in half, everything screaming and burning and-

Silence.

She’d gone as white as a sheet.

Blood was pounding through his ears. Something… he felt… more. Like there was more to see, more to sense, to feel, to hear… It had to be from the ghost. That was the cool sensation settling in the back of his head.

He pulled his hand away from her and whirled to look at the padawan. She could’ve attacked, but no, she was still right where she’d been moments ago.

She was studying him intently. “I want to travel with you.”

What did he look like, the pilot of a Hutt’s pleasure barge?

“Why?” Andronikos asked suspiciously.

“I see that the Jedi were narrow-minded, and that obviously the Sith have things to teach me. If we work together, we can bring peace to the galaxy.”

Sure. Right. Ashara looked like she was the impudent nagging kind.

“Yeah, fine, whatever. You can tag along.” As soon as Andronikos said those words he regretted them.

Talos Drellik rambled.

Not just random babbling, but full-on, archaeological rambling about artifacts he was mining in the cave and how the writing on them was almost pre-historic. For example, these four squiggles meant that food was stored in the jar, but had another, for a total of five lines, then it was waste, so mixing them up-

Wenia smiled encouragingly as he stopped, self conscious.

Andronikos didn’t like how the archaeologist was looking at her. Not one bit, no he didn’t.

Wenia wasn’t some-

He stopped himself. He wasn’t jealous, hell, they’d ended things. It’d been all one-sided, she’d been the one to get attached, he’d been looking for a romp through the sheets. She wasn’t his girlfriend or nothing. So he wasn’t jealous. Wasn’t jealous at all.

But this Drellik was wasting time with his rambling.

So Andronikos leaned forward and put on his most intimidating look. “So about that ghost…”

He was sticking close to her, not that she could blame him.

Yesterday’s blizzard had them all jarred. Even Drellik’s eagerness was dimmed.

The starship was tucked under a fresh blanket of snow, barely visible.

They entered the ship.

It felt even colder than outside as they navigated the maze of corridors.

Something was watching them.

Wenia spun and stared down the dark hallway.

Nothing.

“Wen.” Lord Revel was looking at her, face obscured under the hood’s shadow, voice… that wasn’t concern, could it be?

“I thought I saw something.”

He stalked down the corridor, lightsaber held high.

Empty.

“Nothing here.” Lord Revel rejoined them and nodded for Drellik to keep leading them to the cargo hold.

The wind hissed through the vents, almost saying her name, calling her to the snow, that she’d be warmer without her coat, warmer barefoot, warmer-

Wenia shook her head and followed Drellik, feeling Lord Revel’s eyes on her.

And that’s some sneak peeks at what I’m writing

Feedback is welcome, but keep in mind that there’s a key scenes and stuff not here, these are just some of the bits that I really really like.

thanks for reading!

#swtor #Sith!Andronikos #Pirate!Wenia #Andronikos Revel #Wenia Zana #Carter's writing

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