guardian of sass

Little things~

Pairing: Jack frost x Reader, platonic ig. Can be interpreted as romantic.

Warnings: None

Type: One shot, fluff

Word count: 1673

No spoilers. I wrote this last year and I guess I’ll publish it since there’s never much for Jack Frost.

One barefoot in front of the other, walking aimlessly was how Jack’s eternal life went by. The snow storms and the delicate flakes of snow were all he had for company.

Tip toe, creep and sneak.

He jumped from one telephone line to the other, his hood pulled up to cover his pale face. Golden streaks illuminated the sky as children’s dreams came alive. A small but tender smile appeared on the winter spirits face as he dipped his long slender finger into the dreamy mix.

A good humoured unicorn stepped out and circled him before trotting off; however not before giving him a small nod and an inaudible bray.

Shoving his hands back into his hoodie pocket, he continued balancing and walking, looking around in the small hope someone would notice his presence. Quite a futile wish that was though.

No one for the past 300 years had even looked at his direction, it was a fleeting hope someone would spot him now.

He passed rows of houses, all meager and symmetrical. Most of the lights were out, but one wasn’t.

“That’s strange. There’s usually no one up at this time.” He thought as he came closer.
It was rather weird, as he was out strolling at well past 2am.

He moved in closer with a shrug. Not like who ever was in there would see him anyway. To his surprise there was no curtains, only a thin decorative net covering the pane.

Looking in he saw a girl. Around his physical age of 17. Reading.

Her forehead was creased up in concentration, her lips moved without a word coming from them and her eyes scanned the yellowing pages with unadultered interest.

His rich azure eyes scanned over her before looking at the book that lay on her lap. Tiny letters he couldn’t understand covered the page in small font. Eyebrows knitting together, he tried his hardest to make out what the words spelt out, but he just couldn’t.

He had never been taught how to read or write. Since back when he was born only people of a high wealth could even dream of going to school and learning. In his trance like state he didn’t notice her look up and stare at the window in wonder.

Only when he heard quiet scuffling and a knock on the glass, was when he realised the girl was looking at him.

He stared back, since she obviously was looking at something else. She couldn’t have seen him. Could she? Thoughts ran through his head quicker then lightning as she opened the window.

“Are you a bloody magician or something. How the fuck are you flying?” He was taken aback as her big doey eyes looked at him in wonder and amazement.

He looked behind him to see if there was anyone else she could be speaking to. When he saw no one there, he realised she had addressed him.

“Y-you can see me?” He stuttered meekly with a flabbergasted expression painting his face under the shadow of his hood.

“Well duh. Unless I shouldn’t be seeing you.” Her eyes narrowed at him and he held up his hands in defense.

“I don’t really know. I guess after all this time I just lost my skill with human interaction.” He sighed as she gave him a quizzical look.

“Ok then, Mr magical. You must be cold out there. You can come in if you like. On the condition you don’t try anything.” She warned with a stern glare

He nodded, still unable to process anything in his overwhelmed brain. He barley registered the fact that she grabbed his stick like arm and tugged him into the room.

He looked around feeling a sudden wave of heat caress his face. The room wasn’t overly big, with a nice pale colour adorning the walls. The posters on the wall was obviously about something she liked. It was just a shame he didn’t know what.

“Okie. Now, do you mind telling me how you floated out there? You know unless it goes against your magicians code or something.” She teased him as he stared at her with questioning.

“I’m not a magician. The wind helped me float.” He stated while leaning on his frost covered staff for support.

“If this was any other time aside from the middle of the night. I would go up on the roof and check for a TV crew. But right now I believe you wholeheartedly. Say, what’s your name?” She asked curiously as her eyes grazed over his form.

“My names Jack frost.”

She gave him an unimpressed look before shaking her head.

“Who names their child after an old man that nips people noses?” His lips curled into a frown.

“I don’t nip peoples noses. And parents to the winter guardian, duh.” He sassed as she smirked.

“Hm yeah, and I’m Bob Marley. Don’t lie to me.” She responded hotly as she reached over to pick up her book.

“I’m not. I’ll prove it to you”. A gentle flick of the staff later, small crystalised pieces of ice floated slowly down onto her floor.

The look of awe on her face was enough to make the boys face light up in a cheeky grin.

“Told you” he boasted as he sat down beside her on the padded bed and glanced at the hardback cover.

She tilted the book so he could read it better, but unknown to her. He was almost completely illiterate.

His unpigmented face flushed as he gawked at the title. Failing to make even a bit of sense of it.

“I don’t know what it says.” He squeaked out in a small voice as he felt her shuffle beside him, her arm accidentally brushing up against his.

“Oh that’s ok. It says ‘All the bright places.’” She spoke as he nodded.

“Can you please read it to me?”

It was a request that took her aback but she thankfully obliged without asking anything about it.

Her smooth voice ran over the words and gave them so much life. He could almost feel as though he was part taking in the story.

Emotional agony pulsed through his being as a previously dormant voice in his mind spoke up.

He had always hated not knowing what things said and how to make his presence clear. It wasn’t just her reading, it was her giving him something he had been missing our on for his entire normal and immortal existence.

He quietly exhaled as she rolled her r’s in an extravegant manner and missed out the t’s in certain words. He tried following along with her, but his mind swam with all the letters.

Her voice began slurring and cracking. Stealing a glance at her drowsy face, he noticed that she was beginning to doze off. The floor wasn’t exactly sleep friendly either. Her eyes drooped, covering the girl’s shining iris’s. He picked her up gently and placed her on the bed.

Even though he had known her for less then a day, he already felt a connection. It felt ridiculously good to be spoken to.

Most of all, it made him feel human, like he wasn’t just a wondering soul.

He went out through the window with a content feeling dwelling in his cold chest.
Little did he know it would be only one of many visits.

“Well done Jackie” she grinned as he spelt out his name. He had been improving quickly on his writing.

“Don’t call me that” he groaned dramatically as she laughed that twinkling laugh.

His stomach did a slight back flip but he ignored it, passing it off as belly ache.

Her dainty hands ran across the mahogany desk as she opened a drawer.

“Fuck, where did I leave it?” She hissed agitated as she obviously couldn’t find the item she was rummaging around for.

His eyes spoke words that were not needed in physical form as she responded with out looking behind.

“I can’t find what I had put in here for you”. His heart skipped a beat at her words.

“You didn’t need to get me anything.” He countered as she ignored him.

“Shush Jack. Let me concentrate.” She skidded across the carpeted floor in her fuzzy socks before devlving into a different opening.

“Aha!” She yelled holding up a small box in victory.

She slid over and sat down cross legged in the funny fashion she always did it in.

“Here you are.” Plopping the navy blue velvet box in his lap, he looked down at it with adoration.

His cold hands slowly reached our to stroke the soft material of the box before he opened it.

Inside was a necklace. His name was engraved onto a golden snowflake as her initials were imprinted in the corner.

No words left either of their lips.

He slowly pulled it out of its confines and held it in his hand. As though it was fragile China that would break if he so much as breathed on it.

“Its… beautiful.” he breathed out as he slowly read out the letters.

Joy filled his heart as he was able to make out what it said without stumbling over his thoughts.

“I’m glad you like it.” She grinned widely. So much so he feared her face would split in half right there and then.

She gingerly picked off the book from her nightstand and pulled him up on the bed beside her.

Her nimble fingers took the piece of jewellery from him and snapped it into place so it fell on his chest. The coolness of the metal not adding even the tinest damper to his body temperaturem.

She began reading as he laid his head in her lap. His eyes closed as the thereputic melody of her voice lulled him into internal bliss.

Maybe it was just the little things that counted.

But he was sure as hell that she was more then enough for him to feel alive.

anonymous asked:

Ahoy! I am new in this fandom and I have a request if you don't mind. :) How Ezarel would react if his Gardienne is a pest like him?

Well welcome to the fandom, Anon. You’ll never be bored between episodes again. ;)

Anyway, here’s the short answer to your question: El will never be the same again.  

Shiver me timbers.

From the moment the Guardian opens their mouth to sass one of his colleagues, Ezarel will think: “Finally: somebody else with a brain! Things are finally getting fun around here.”

But his enthusiasm plunges by several notches once they turn that same smart-mouth and prankster’s mind against him. It’s not that he that he’s insulted by their jokes; you don’t get voted ‘El’s Most Insufferable Guard Commander’ without growing a thick-skin. Rather, he’s instinctively offended by their lack of respect for him and general refusal to concede to his points. He is an elven noble with an educational background that a misplaced, plebian human can only dream of, and they have the gall to call him ‘Bitchy Blue’?! They would dare doodle in his notes?! Brains or no, he’s putting his foot down! Some types of behavior are plain unacceptable from certain types of people.

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