Pals. I know we talk about Simon in trackies all the time. But like. Can we think of Baz in them for a sec?
Baz arriving at the flat soaked to the bones because of the heavy rain, and Simon giving him a pair of his own sweatpants. Baz pouting for a good half an hour because a Pitch would never walk around in that kind of loungewear in broad daylight but finally, after arguing for ages he puts them on and they´re soft and cosy and actually not too bad. Baz pulling them down as low as possible because they´re a little short on his legs and he doesn´t want to look like a grumpy child after a growth spurt. Baz finally leaving the bathroom awkward but warm and Simon giggling a little because he´s never seen him like this, big jumper and trackies, running around barefoot.
And then mesmerized by the little show of skin every time Baz lifts his arms, sweater riding up, sweatpants hanging low; suddenly never wanting him to wear a suit again.
(sorry this is so messy, I literally just wanted to doodle this to get it out of my head >:D )
Snow kissed me last night until my mouth was sore. He kissed me so much, I was worried I’d Turn him with all my saliva. He held himself up all all fours above me and made me reach up for his mouth—and I did. I would again. I’d cross every line for him.
I really liked the idea of doing a Carry On Beauty and the Beast AU after seeing the movie. After seeing @ace-artemis-fanartist do this AMAZING fanart AU version I decided to go for it! Let me know if your interested in this becoming chaptered :) The next chapters are available here: 23
The castle loomed darkly against the grey sky, a shadowy figure in the crisp wilderness. Simon shivered lightly in the cold weather, rubbing his arms against the wind. He wasn’t sure why he had come here; it wasn’t like he actually owed his father anything. But he had tracked him to this desolate place and felt the familiar need to keep his father close to him.
His footsteps crunching in the snow were the only audible sound. The place was incredibly eerie, even if it was beautiful. He had no idea what his father was doing in a place like this or why he hadn’t reached out to him. But it seemed dangerous; Simon’s magic swirled close to the surface of his skin.
As he reached the doorway he paused. Something told him that once he entered this place he would not come back the same. If he wanted to, he could walk away, let his father conduct his strange business in this creepy castle, and return to life in the village. Agatha was waiting for him there with a thousand promises in her brown eyes. There were a million reasons for him to walk away.
He took a deep breath and pushed the heavy doors open. His heart beat rapidly as he waited for something to jump out at him. As the seconds ticked by though, he noticed that the entryway was empty. With a frown, he stepped through the threshold.
The room was dank, as if it hadn’t seen sunlight in many years. As he stepped further into the castle he noticed a large sitting area to his left. Seemingly on its own accord, the fireplace lit up with bright orange flames. Simon jumped back a step and put his hand over the hilt of his sword. But nobody attacked him from behind the large fireplace.
Simon had been raised around magic his whole life, loved it even, yet he felt there was something wrong about this place. It was as if the castle dripped in something heavy, a kind of twisted magic hung in the air.
“Look Niall! I told you he would come!” He heard someone hiss behind him.
Simon froze, trying to appear as if he hadn’t heard the voice.
“Oh, shut up Dev!” Another voice whispered.
Simon whipped around, sure that he would discover who was speaking and found himself utterly confused. Behind him, on the stairs, lay a clock and candelabra, as if left there by mistake.
“What in Merlin…” Simon muttered.
The place was starting creep him out. Figuring it would be useful in the dark space, Simon picked up the candelabra and started up the grand staircase. The castle was obviously quite large and, in its own eerie way, very grand; but Simon could not understand what it was doing in the middle of the woods. Had his father, deluded by his own power, built a castle in forested isolation to pretend to be king? Simon had to admit that it was not that big of a stretch for his father. It didn’t, however, explain the strange whispering. Or the dark magic.
He found a corridor off to his left and walked up the stone steps, knowing that his father had a tendency to seek high ground. Eventually it became clear that he was in the dungeons of the castle, something that would normally cause him to go back to the main staircase. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was getting closer to his father with every step. Eventually he turned a corner and found the one cell that wasn’t empty in the vast tower.
In the corner his father lay balled up, his green cloak stained by the water dripping from the stone ceiling. Simon drew in an audible breath. Stirred by the noise, David Snow turned and looked at his son, his eyes blank. Then he jumped out of his slumped position and threw himself at the bars.
“Oh my son! My son! Thank Merlin you’ve found me!”
“Father…what happened to you?”
His father’s eyes shifted to look behind him.
“I was looking for something in the woods…I got lost. Eventually I found this place and decided to rest here for a bit. But Simon, my boy, there’s something terrible in this place.”
Simon glanced around him.
“Yeah I know. I can feel the dark magic here.”
“No!” His father yelled, grabbing Simon’s jacket through the bars, “You don’t understand! There’s a thing here, an evil creature! He’s the one who locked me up!”
Simon wondered if his father had hit his head.
“I’m sure he was a horrible man if he could do something like this to you father, but let’s not get carried away.”
His father’s eyes widened and his face went white. Weakly, he let go of Simon and backed away from him, his eyes focused on something behind Simon. His legs began to shake.
“Not a man…” His father trailed off.
Simon felt a chill run down his spine.
Simon whipped around and came face to face with his father’s captor. He was taller than Simon, enough so to loom over him. His skin was as grey as the sky outside the castle, and his eyes were the same color, if not a little stormier. His hair was jet black and wild about his face, as if he hadn’t cut it in years. All of this, strange as it was, was still human enough.
But the fangs, the horrible, sharp fangs that protruded from his dark red lips were undoubtedly beastly. His expression matched the cruelness of his appearance, a mask of pure and utter rage.
Simon did not know what to call this person, as he somehow had ascertained the creature in front of him was indeed a person. His sword was already drawn, but he had the sinking feeling it would do little against the menacing man in front of him.
“You dare take up a sword against me? In my own home?” The man hissed.
Simon swallowed loudly.
“I-I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that you…well, you surprised me.”
The man studied him.
“Well what?” Simon said.
“Well why haven’t you put your sword down yet? Seeing as you only drew out of bewilderment.”
Simon deliberated. Putting down the sword meant relinquishing his best weapon and left him vulnerable. But keeping it drawn would likely make the man attack. Slowly he sheathed his sword.
“There,” Simon said.
The man sneered.
“What are you doing in my castle? I don’t like trespassers.”
Simon clenched his jaw.
“I wasn’t trying to trespass. My father went missing a few days ago and I tracked him here. I didn’t realize the castle was occupied by you.”
The man snarled loudly.
“So you’re the son of this disgusting excuse of a man?”
Simon growled back at him.
“How dare you talk about my father like that!” Simon yelled.
The man threw him up onto the bars in a rush, barely exerting himself. Simon had been right to assume that the man was unnaturally strong. He felt his breath rush out of him against the force of the blow.
“Your father tried to slit my throat in my sleep.”
Simon wanted to deny it, to say his father would never be capable of such a thing, but he knew that he couldn’t. Unfortunately, Simon could very well imagine his father doing just that sort of thing. The man waited for Simon to defend his father and when it was clear he wouldn’t, set Simon down.
“Simon,” His father whimpered, “He’s a monster! I only thought I was doing the right thing!”
The man laughed darkly.
“Is that so? Is stuffing your bag with dozens of my possessions doing the right thing?”
Simon looked down. His father was not a good man, Simon knew this already, but he was the only family he had left. Whether he liked it or not, he would need to break his father out of the castle.
In a flash Simon had his wand out and pointed at the monstrous man’s throat. He was prepared to say a spell when the man laughed raucously. Simon paused, his mouth hanging open in confusion.
“Going to cast a spell are you? I don’t think you’ll have much luck with that.”
Simon realized that although he could feel his magic, he couldn’t tap into it.
“Why…what’s wrong with this place?”
The man pulled back his upper lip to expose more of his fangs. It was truly a terrible sight, an image that made fear run up the length of Simon’s body.
“It’s cursed. Like me.”
“What are you?” Simon whispered.
Something flitted across the man’s expression, too quick for Simon to decipher. As quickly as it had come, the look left the man’s expression and was replaced by cold disinterest.
“Enough questions. Your father will spend the rest of his life rotting in this cell; I don’t care what you think about it. He committed treason as far as I’m concerned. “
Simon sagged in defeat. The smart move would be to respectfully apologize on behalf of his father and to leave. It was in his best interest to leave his father, and this mysterious man, behind him forever. After all, his father had committed horrible crimes; he deserved to be here.
“I know,” Simon started, “That what my father did was despicable.”
His father moaned weakly in his cell.
“But,” Simon continued, through gritted teeth, “I cannot simply leave him here. I have no hope of beating you in a fight without my magic and I don’t wish for my family name to cause any more violence in your home.”
The man frowned.
“And so…” Simon trailed off, “Punish me instead.”
The man’s eyes widened. From behind him he could hear his father shrieking with happiness. Simon closed his eyes, trying to quell the pain in his chest.
“You would take your father’s place?”
Simon felt his father grab his leg through the bars. He was kissing Simon’s calf.
“Thank you my son. Oh. Bless you. I won’t forget this.”
Simon’s throat hurt.
“Yes, I will take his place.”
The man pointed in disgust to his father, who was crying in happiness on his hands and knees.
“You would sacrifice your entire life? For a coward like this?”
“Enough questions,” Simon threw the man’s earlier words back at him, “Just let him go and do what you want with me.”
The man glared at him for a minute, as if he was unwilling to accept Simon’s offer. Eventually though, he pushed Simon aside and unlocked the cell door. His father sprang out and ran down the stairs, without a backwards glance at Simon.
“I’ll come back for you Simon! I swear it,” He heard his father shout out from below.
Simon knew it was a lie. He knew that unless he found some way to escape on his own that he would be stuck here until he died. David Snow was not a good man but he was an even worse father.
The man allowed Simon the dignity of entering the cell on his own as opposed to throwing him in. Keeping eye contact with him, the man closed and locked the cell door.
“Your father is a selfish and cruel man. But you…”
Simon waited for him to continue. With a shake of his head, the man turned away and began to walk down the stone stairway.
“You are a fool.”
With that, the man walked away, leaving Simon completely alone. Sighing, Simon slid down to the floor. He wished he could say that the man was a monster, that he had forced Simon’s hand and treated his father unfairly. But the truth was cruel, and Simon had to bite his lip to stop himself from screaming.
The truth was that his father had deserved what he got.
And the beast had been right; Simon Snow was the biggest fool of all.
Just a little snowbaz fluff and bed sharing. Hope you enjoy! <3
Word Count: 1795
When Simon had agreed to help Baz find his mother’s killer, he had expected violent chases through the wavering wood, travels into unexplored areas of the catacombs, and even searching for the nursery she had died in. What he hadn’t expected was hours and hours of reading through old newspapers and books. Somehow, the most mysterious and important quest Simon had ever had handed to him had become the most boring.
“Can’t we check the catacombs?” Simon asked.
Penny scrunched up her nose, expression confused.
“Didn’t you search through all of it during fifth year?” She asked.
Baz glanced at him and smirked.
“Yeah,” Simon responded, cheeks warm, “but I wasn’t looking for clues about Headmistress Pitch, I was looking for, well, Baz.”
Baz threw his hand up over his forehead, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically.
“Oh how you make me swoon Snow.”
Simon glared at him.
“Simon I know this is boring but until winter break, this is all we can do,” Penny said.
“And you? Are you satisfied with just sitting around?” Simon asked, eyes on Baz.
Something flickered in Baz’s eyes. He wanted action as much as Simon did, probably more than Simon did. This was his mother’s killer they were looking for after all; he would be out for blood.
“No,” Baz said reluctantly as if agreeing with Simon was the worse thing possible, “but Bunce is right. For now, this is all we can do.”
“Plus, reading is fun,” Penny said.
“And enriching,” Baz said.
“Nerds,” Simon muttered.
They spent the rest of the night scouring the texts that Baz had stolen for them that week. Eventually, Simon’s vision was blurring on the words and he kept rereading the same sentence. Baz acted like he was unaffected, but Simon noticed the way his eyelids kept shutting briefly between pages. Even Penny looked like she was struggling a bit.
“I’m going to finish this book in my room, if I wait much later then I’ll be spotted leaving,” Penny said.
“Then I’m going to bed,” Simon said.
Penny slapped her hand flat across the pages of the book Simon had open in his lap, preventing him from snapping it shut.
“Oh no you won’t. You need to finish that by tonight.”
Simon felt like growling, or whining.
“I’ll make sure he gets it done,” Baz said.
“You’re not my baby sitter.”
Penny rose and grabbed all of her things. With one last warning glance for the both of them, she threw on her cape and left.
“That was all a ploy right? You just said that to make her leave so we could sleep,” Simon said.
“As much as I want to sleep right now, the books are more important,” Baz said.
“This is the one time I was grateful for your plotting skills.”
Baz looked at his own bed, piled with books that Penny had already finished and discarded. Then he glanced over at Simon’s bed and it’s virtually uncluttered duvet cover.
“Yes you can leave the book shelf that used to be your bed and sit with me,” Simon said.
Baz didn’t say thank you but he did walk over and sit as far away from Simon as he could on the bed.
“All right, let’s get this done Snow.”
Simon wasn’t sure when, but at some point his eyes had shut and hadn’t reopened.
Baz felt warm. In fact, he was not used to waking up feeling so warm. Sleepily, he scooted closer to the source of the warmth. He had the dizzy feeling that he was curled up around the sun. Then, as he started to wake up more clearly, he realized that he was wrapped around clothing. More than that, he was wrapped around someone.
His eyes flew open.
Snow’s moles were up close and personal, his eyes shut in deep sleep. One of his arms was wrapped around Baz and one of Baz’s legs was slung over Snow’s. For one blissful second, Baz felt a surge of happiness. He had dreamt about this very thing, but real life was so much more satisfying than a murky dream.
Then, as he remembered who he and Snow were, Baz felt his stomach drop out of him.
Before he could move Snow’s eyelids opened, sleep fuzzy. The sight tore at something inside of Baz but he didn’t let it show.
“Could you remove your club of an arm from me so I can breath?” Baz hissed.
Snow’s eyes widened. Within seconds his face went deathly pale and then a deep red.
Baz did not want to hear all the things Snow would say. He didn’t want to know how embarrassed or freaked out he was. He wanted to end this experience before it could be tarnished.
“We fell asleep you git! And now we’re behind on all the reading we were supposed to do,” Baz snapped.
Snow sat up and away, eyes bugging out of his head.
“I…how can you even be concerned with that right now?” He asked.
“You mean, why am I not having a meltdown over having woken up in your arms?” Baz asked.
“It was one arm, not both of them,” Snow said, defensively.
Trust Snow to nitpick that detail.
“We’re searching for my mother’s killer. Waking up fully clothed and rested is hardly the most troubling thing on my mind at the moment.”
Snow’s expression softened.
“You’re right. I was being stupid. I just-“
Baz cut him off.
“Oh don’t worry Snow, I plan to retch over the memory later. As soon as my mother’s killer is dead, you’ll have my full attention.”
Snow glared at him.
“I’m going to get breakfast,” He muttered.
“Probably a good idea,” Baz said, tiredly.
Once Snow was dressed and out the door Baz fell back onto the bed. He curled into the duvet and closed his eyes. I slept with Simon Snow he thought. And it really had been just sleeping, but it had been better than anything he could have imagined.
Two days. It had been two days since the sleeping incident. Simon hadn’t been able to put it out of his mind. Baz seemed to have managed just that. He gave no indication that he cared about or was even thinking of the experience. Penny hadn’t even caught on yet, which was saying something. If Baz didn’t care and Penny didn’t suspect something, then surely Simon could move past it.
But he couldn’t. He kept replaying the moment of waking up in his mind. Before he had opened his eyes, he had felt a cozy body under his arm. He’d wanted to squeeze closer, to press his nose into the hair that had been tickling his collarbone, but he’d opened his eyes instead. Even as he’d seen the look of sheer hostility in Baz’s eyes, for a moment Simon had felt a burst of warmth.
This was his worst enemy. But he was also the guy Simon had spent the night with.
It was late at night and Penny was on her last batch of books. Simon envied her; his stack had grown steadily over the last two days. Baz was only just behind Penny.
“Simon I need you to start reading more, I’ll have to start taking on some of the books in your stack if you don’t get further along soon,” Penny said.
Simon glanced at her.
“Because you would hate that so much,” He said.
Penny’s glare softened.
“Well, it still isn’t an efficient way to get through all of the books.”
Baz smiled at them; a real smile, not the sharp edged smirk he usually wore.
Simon felt his heart thump unevenly.
“Let’s call it a night,” Baz said, “I think Snow’s brain will explode if we don’t.”
Penny shrugged, obviously irritated, but didn’t argue. Simon suspected that even she wanted to go to her room and sleep.
“This would work a lot better if you’d just let me sleep here on research nights,” Penny said.
Baz and Simon both said no at the same time.
Simon froze, eyes locked with Baz’s. He’d seen a look slither across his face, and he could have sworn it was nervousness.
“Okay,” Penny said, eyes darting back and forth between them, “See you two tomorrow, I guess.”
When she was out the door Simon started to speak and was promptly cut off.
“Don’t,” Baz said.
“Why not? It’s not as if you aren’t thinking about it.”
Baz swung around to face him, grey eyes cold and angry.
“We fell asleep on your bed. Why are you trying to make this weird? Can’t we just move on?” Baz demanded.
Simon looked away.
“I don’t want to move on,” Simon said.
He looked up and saw that Baz had gone rigid.
“I-I liked it,” Simon whispered.
He’d liked it. Simon fucking Snow had been thinking about their night spent together and he’d liked it. Baz was sure he was stuck in a dream, or some sort of alternate reality.
“What do you mean Snow? You liked procrastinating on your reading? Because that isn’t very helpful.”
Snow’s jaw hardened.
“I am not talking about books,” He said.
“Then what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about how nice it was waking up with you in my arms!” Simon said.
Baz stared at him.
Blue eyes were all Baz could see. Snow had liked it. But what did that mean? Baz couldn’t let himself get too caught up.
“Baz can you please say something?”
Baz shook his head.
“I’m not sure what to say Snow.”
Snow took a step towards him.
“Say you liked it too,” Snow whispered.
Baz felt himself caving.
“Say that you enjoyed waking up together,” He continued.
Baz’s knees felt weak.
“Say you like me,” Snow finished.
Baz let Snow snake their hands together.
“Simon I-I don’t know about this.”
Snow’s eyes sparked.
“I like it when you say my name,” He said.
Baz felt like he was under a spell.
“Simon,” Baz repeated.
Simon leaned forward just slightly and pressed his lips against Baz’s. It wasn’t the wild make-outs of his dreams, or the passionate kiss they sometimes shared before they were killed in his nightmares. It was just the softest press of lips to lips, the sweetest pressure Baz had ever felt.
“Let’s go to sleep,” Simon said.
They stumbled towards Simon’s bed and awkwardly got under the covers. For a moment, neither one of them moved from their respective edges of the bed; but then Snow was jutting forward, warm hands gathering Baz up against him. Baz relaxed against him and wrapped his arm around Snow’s chest.