I met Baz three years ago on tumblr. One day I saw an edit of his on my dash and I went to check his blog. The guy made black and white aesthetics that looked awesome in a dark sort of way. So I started to follow him. After he reblogged a video of a guy playing violin, I decided to send him a message.
Dragonwings61: for a disturbed guy, you really have an interesting choice in music
Disturbed-pitch: So because I’m disturbed you feel like I’m not allowed to like classical music?
Dragonwings61: Shit sorry didn’t mean it like that.
Dragonwings61: What I meant to say was
Dragonwings61: I’ve never really heard classic music before but I really liked the song :)
Disturbed-pitch: It’s one of my favourites, you should try to listen to more :)
It started there and we haven’t stopped talking since. We became so close that last year I really wanted to see what he looked like. He’d become my best friend and I wanted to see his face.
Dragonwings61: I wanna ask you something
Disturbed-pitch: Hey. What is it?
Dragonwings61: I’ve been thinking about this a lot
Dragonwings61: And I really don’t want you to freak out ok?
Disturbed-pitch: Go on.
Dragonwings61: I just
Dragonwings61: I really wanna see what you look like
Dragonwings61: pls don’t freak out, If you’re not comfortable with this pls forget I ever asked
Disturbed-pitch: It’s fine Simon… I thought about it myself quite a few times lately.
Dragonwings61: so is that a yes?
Disturbed-pitch: Yes I’d like to see your stupid face too :)
Dragonwings61: I bet your face looks more stupid than mine
Disturbed-pitch: We shall see
We exchanged photos and one day, I was having trouble with my homework–I’d never cared for math–and he wanted to help me out so we skyped. And I’m glad we did. Baz is beautiful. He rolls his eyes a lot at me and fucking sneers but… I just really like looking at him. I like Baz a lot.
After that we became even closer. We talked almost everyday, first only for a few minutes then for hours on end. We would just turn skype on and do our own thing, like studying, or reading. Baz even played violin a few times for me to see and it was so fucking beautiful. Everything he does is perfect.
Now it’s the end of the summer and I’m going to university in a few days. I haven’t figured out what I want to major in but I’ll try a few different classes and see what sticks.
I told Baz my plan of moving to London months ago–I live in Manchester and Baz leaves in Hampshire–and he hasn’t said a word as to where he’s going. I’d love to meet him one day… I’ve just never had the courage to ask him. But I really want to touch him, make sure he’s real. I mean, of course he’s real, but I’ve never seen him outside of my screen before.
I’m at my laptop scrolling through tumblr when Baz asks to skype. I accept.
“Hey Baz.” I smile at him. I’m always happy to see him.
“Listen… I’ve been meaning to tell you something for awhile.”
I stare at him through the screen. Why is he nervous? He’s making me feel nervous “Okay.”
“I just…” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair “You know that I’m going to university.”
I look at him expectantly. Is he finally telling me where he’s going? It’s not like him to keep things a secret; not from me anyway.
“This doesn’t have to mean anything but–” he continues, and he’s blushing right now and I feel like blushing myself just by the way he’s looking at me. “I’m going to London.”
“What?” Wait, what? Did he really just say–
“London. I’m going to fucking London, Simon.”
“Why?” I ask stupidly. But I start grinning at him like an idiot. We’re going to be in the same city. Fuck, I’m gonna be able to hang out with him and actually see his face.
“Well there’s a really good school there… Besides, there’s someone I was really hoping to meet in person.” I feel my cheeks burning as he says this.
Holy shit this is really happening. I’m going to finally meet Baz. “When are you moving to London?”
“I’m already here. I just arrived at my aunt’s flat a few hours ago.” Then he grabs his laptop and turns it around so that I can see his new room.
“Baz?” I call him, and he puts his laptop on the desk again.
“I’m gonna be in London in a few days.”
“Let’s meet?” I say unsure, interrupting him.
“I’d like that.” he tells me, half smiling.
And there’s nothing to lose now, so I might as well try my luck. “As in, a date.”
“Oh?” He looks surprised.
“Is that cool?”
“Fuck, of course it is, Simon.”
We agreed to meet at Kings Cross, Baz said he would pick me up when I arrived (everything that I own fits into a bag) and then we would go on our date. I can’t believe this is happening, that he actually said yes to go out with me.
I’ve been so nervous the last couple of days because of this, of finally going to meet him. But as the train arrives at the station and I exit the platform all that anxiety melts away when I notice him staring right at me.
Once I reach him I let my bag drop to the floor. I put my arms around him to pull him closer into a tight hug and he does the same. He feels so good this close to me, and smells incredible, I don’t know how to describe it other than that he smells posh and it really fits him.
“Baz.” I say, grinning into his neck. I still can’t believe that he’s actually here in front of me.
“Hello, Simon,” he says, and it’s muffled by my hair. He holds me tight against him longer than necessary before letting me go.
When I step back all I can focus on are his lips. They were so close to mine. And I just really want to kiss him.
I put my hand on his neck and make slow movements with my thumb. “I want to kiss you…” I start,“but we haven’t even been on a date yet.” That gets me a eye roll from him.
“We’re not exactly strangers,” he says, leaning into me.
He’s so close now; if I just leaned a bit forward, we’d be kissing. “I know, but I still want to take you on a–”
Well since it was my prom, I decided to do some SnowBaz being declared prom kings (this is probably what happened that night)
Simon: As your prom king. I am your ruler
(That Parks and Recreations reference tho)
When I was a nipper, the Baz Sherlock Holmes films were always on the telly, and so my first - and lasting - sense of him is as that honourable man, clever and a little cutting, but cerebral and on the side of the good guys. It’s the role of his that looms largest of course, but it’s quite an anomaly in his career of dastardly plotters, evil swashbucklers, obsessive scientists, snobby, urbane, gleefully cruel villains. It’s the physique and the profile that made him so right for Holmes that also makes him perfect for the villains; taller, haughtier, more nose to look down.
And he is a fabulous villain (and I’m not just talking about Guy of Gisborne’s amazing outfits) because he is a great actor, and he plays the roles with relish as well as enough restraint to never be over the top. What’s particularly endearing about him is his willingness - later in his career - to spoof himself and his earlier roles with huge abandon: his outrageous turn in Comedy of Terrors, his joyful sending up of both Robin Hood and The Mark of Zorro in The Court Jester - a pisstake and homage both of (possibly) the two greatest swordfights in classic Hollywood.
In the middle ground between these two extremes, there are some really good roles and great performances - it’s hard not to get typecast as either a villain or a hero, and it happened to Baz at times, but there’s enough interesting other stuff in his career to give you a glimpse of how varied an actor he could be.
Favourite Role: well I guess it has to be Guy of Gisborne in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) because he is fucking fabulous, everyone is fucking fabulous, he gets to buckle Errol’s swash (always a great thing), it’s glorious colour, it’s just one of the most entertaining films around.
Another good place to start: The Dawn Patrol (1938) where he gives an excellent performance as a CO cracking under the strain of sending men out to die, two of whom are Errol Flynn and David Niven. It’s a bloody great film about the hopelessness of war, and all three of them are amazing in it (it’s the film that Flynned me for good. Also slashtastic). Also The Mark of Zorro (1940) because I do love a good swordfight, Baz this time cheating on Errol with Tyrone Power; it’s fun, it’s fast paced, it has ridiculously tight trousers. Baz comes out the loser of course, because he’s the villain, but he’s super ace in it.
Summary: coffee shop au (ish. at first). fluffiest of the fluff.
note: in this au baz is more openly gay and confident in that sense. also more happy. probably because he’s not a vampire. simon is more bashful. probably because baz is supermegafoxyawesomehot.
please let me know what you think! I love feedback (good or bad) and it makes my day to know that people are actually reading my writing eheh c:
Simon froze. He slowly looked up to meet the eyes of the person he had just spilled coffee all down the front of. Deep grey eyes. Dark hair. An expensive-looking dark blue sweater, now covered in coffee. He stared incredulously down at his dripping sweater then up at Simon.
“I- I’m so sorry!” Simon stuttered, he felt his cheeks turn pink. “I’ll just go get-” He gestured vaguely towards the napkins at the front of the coffee shop, turned, and promptly tripped over a chair. A hand shot out from nowhere and caught his arm as he fell, pulling him upright.
“Apology accepted. Are you always this clumsy?” Simon glanced at his arm caught in sweater-boy’s grasp and quickly snatched it back. The boy’s lips were quirked in an amused smirk but his eyes were friendly.
“Yes. No.” Simon cringed. “I don’t know.” He couldn’t seem to find the right words. It was all that boy’s fault. He was looking at Simon with those grey eyes and Simon couldn’t think straight. “Sorry.” Simon muttered. The boy laughed and shook his head.
“Baz.” He held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.” Simon reluctantly extended his own. “I’m Simon. Simon Snow.”
“Snow? What kind of name is that?” The smirk returned, more pronounced this time.
Simon squared his shoulders and frowned. “Mine, that’s what kind of name it is.”
“You’re really going to talk to me like that after what you did to my sweater?” He pointed at the brown stain slowly sinking into the knitted fabric.
“Oh. Right, sorry.”
“Apology not accepted.”
“Good. Wait, what?”
“I said, apology not accepted.” Baz moved past Simon to grab napkins from the counter. Simon dumbfoundedly watched him go. Apology not accepted? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Baz returned a few moments later with a fist full of napkins and a mischievous smile on his face.
“Apology not accepted,” he paused, “Unless, you let me buy you a coffee to make up for the one you wasted on my sweater.”
Simon frowned, “Fine.”
“As a date.”
Simon blushed, “Fine…”
Baz dabbed nonchalantly at his sweater. “Like I’m a guy and you’re a guy, and we’re going to go on a date. Romantically.”
Simon blushed harder, “Okay.”
The golden-haired boy, Simon, was hot. There was no denying it. One glance at him and Baz couldn’t tear his eyes away. He looked delicious, like something you could eat. A human pastry. A scone, perhaps. Or, like, a really attractive waffle. (Tawny skin and golden hair. Waffle. Baz wasn’t crazy).
Baz didn’t usually ask guys on a date out of the blue like that. He’d been splashed with hot coffee and looked up at the offender, expecting to see some grumpy businessman, only to find an irresistibly rumpled and comically bewildered boy staring up at him with wide blue eyes. He couldn’t be mad at that. And he stuttered. Absolutely adorable. Hardly knowing what he was doing, it felt as if some outside force compelled him to ask the boy out.
And now he was hand in hand with Simon in a park. It was unreal.
That first date was spent saying less than they wanted, and what little was said didn’t come out right. The next date was better.
“What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”
Simon scrunched his eyebrows, “I don’t know. I don’t really think about whether or not something is stupid, I just do it.” They were hand in hand in that same park lying on a grassy hill under the darkening autumn sky. There was a slight chill in the air and Baz scooted closer to Simon.
“Hey!” His chin jutted forward. “I am not! What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”
“Ask you out.” Baz teased. Simon made a little frustrated grumbling sound in his throat. “But actually,” Baz continued, “One time I locked my sister in her closet on accident. Then I forgot about it and my mom and I spent the whole day looking for her.”
“That is stupid.”
“What’s you’re mom like?”
“Nice. And stern. And…” he paused, searching for the right way to say it. “Dead.” He cringed at the way the word fell flat in the air. It just stuck there, unmoving and uncomfortable. There wasn’t really a right way to say it. He felt Simon tense up. “Oh.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” Simon was silent. Baz chuckled, “Great second date topic. I obviously know how to get all the guys.” Simon laughed, “You should try spilling coffee on them. Works every time.”
“I’ll try to remember that. Thanks for the advice, Snow.”
“Was that sarcasm?”
“What do you think.”
“I think it was.”
“Look at you, Snow, the bloody genius.” He sat up and made a grand sweeping motion at some pigeons nearby, “Did you hear that, birds? Why aren’t you bowing down to the all-powerful mastermind overlord Snow? You are not worthy subjects.” The pigeons cooed and pecked at the grass. Baz snorted and turned to Simon, “Peasants, am I right?”
Simon shook with silent laughter. “Am I king of the pigeons?” He choked out, struggling to sit up. Baz grinned, “Yes, but some day you hope to expand your kingdom to include the rodents.”
“What about humans? May I some day lord over them as well?”
“No. They are too beneath you. They are not worth your time.”
“Of course.” Simon grinned back at him. “I knew that. I was just testing you.” Baz stood up and swept him a low graceful bow, extending a hand. “I did not doubt you for a moment, oh mighty Snow.”
Simon took his hand and Baz pulled him up with unexpected force. Enough that Simon stumbled forward into Baz. And suddenly there they were.
Faces centimeters apart.
Bodies pressed together.
Hot breath quivering with life in the cool air.
Dusty grey eyes staring into sky blue ones.
And Simon felt he was falling, falling…and Baz caught him with his lips. And they were kissing. More than kissing. It was a dance, pressing forward and falling back, feeling and tasting and touching and smelling. Baz smelled of cedar and bergamot and Simon inhaled deeply, a small sigh escaping him as Baz tugged gently at his hair. His hands left trails of tingling skin wherever they touched on his neck and face.
Simon was soft and warm. His lips were hot and his hands gripped firmly on Baz’s neck. And he tasted like a pastry. Baz had to break away to laugh. Simon looked worried.
“What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, you’re perfect. You’re absolutely wonderful, it’s just-” He laughed again. “You taste like a pastry.”
“I do?” He looked utterly bewildered, curls haphazardly falling in his face. Irresistible.
“Yes, you do. Now shut up and kiss me.” Baz leaned in but Simon pulled away.
“Why is that funny?”
Baz groaned at the effort of having to explain himself. “When I first saw you I thought you looked delicious. Like a pastry, that’s the metaphor I used. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know why. All I know is that you’re absolutely beautiful so can I please kiss you now?”
Simon didn’t reply. Instead he twisted his fingers in Baz’s hair and pulled his lips to his own. And Baz was falling, falling. And he never wanted to come back.
nervous flyer and random seat mate AU? simon or baz could be either one :D
a/n: this took on a life of its own
baz glances up from his book at the strangled hiss. it’s his neighbor, the cute one with the blond hair- he looks sick. and terrified. baz winces, turns back to his book.
the plane starts a little as it starts taxi-ing, and the blond jumps violently in his seat. baz sneaks another sideways look at him, taking in his corded arms and tightly shut eyes, and feels an unexpected twinge of pity.
he really is cute.
“i have some flight sickness pills,” he suggests casually, flicking his eyes away when the man snaps his head towards the unexpected intrusion. “if you want.”
he can feel the suspicious glare raking up and down him, and shifts his head forward to hide his sneer. and his blush.
“because i don’t want to be vomited on. obviously.”
the blond stiffens even more, if that’s possible. “no.”
“fine,” snaps baz, and returns to his book.
he doesn’t know why he even bothered.
they’re actually in the air now, and baz is fairly sure that the man would be crying if he had slightly less pride. as it is, he’s very loudly sucking in air and shaking so that baz can feel it from a seat over. he rolls his eyes.
“honestly- take the fucking pills, okay? jesus.”
“i don’t need-” he cuts off as the plane hits turbulence, and his entire body seems to blanch. he freezes, face twisted with panic.
“christ- okay, look, just- deep breaths, okay? in, and out.” because it looks as if the stranger has stopped breathing. he doesn’t protest, just squeezes his eyes eyes shut and follows baz’s instructions.
color returns to his cheeks, slowly, and baz sits back. “do you want-”
“i do not want the fucking pills, okay?”
baz sneers. “i was going to ask if you wanted a soda, or something. calm down.”
he blushes. “umm. right, sorry.” he shuffles awkwardly for a minute. “thank you. my name’s simon.”
he manages to fall asleep, head drooping over to rest on baz’s shoulder. baz thinks about shrugging it off, but takes one look at his face (an awkward affair involving precarious twists of the neck) and decides against it, going back to his book.
the stranger- simon- wakes up, turns green, and hurriedly engages baz in conversation.
they live near each other, it turns out.
they exchange phone numbers.
“i- well, i wanted to say- i mean- thank you,” mumbles simon, blushing fiery red.
“it was nothing,” dismisses baz, quirking the corners of his lips up.
“i- you’re- text me,” simon blurts, and immediately flushes darker.
“i will,” says baz, his half smile becoming a fully fledged grin.
they actually end up talking.
simon’s sometimes fucking irritating, but he’s mostly adorable.
they meet for coffee when they can.
they’re at the starbucks where baz works, while he’s on break.
simon teased him mercilessly when he found out.
“you’re so fucking posh, i thought you’d be-”
baz huffs. “what, snow?”
“i dunno,” simon grins. “a king, or something.”
baz grimaces. he’s not far off. “just a barista.”
simon gives his his signature sarcastic look. “just a barista,” he mimics. baz furrows his brow, genuinely confused.
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
one day they go to simon’s flat, after. he opens the peeling door and gestures grandly in. it’s a mess, but baz was expecting that.
“snow, there are-”
simon blushes furiously as he tosses the various clothing items on the couch into the next room. “i wasn’t exactly planning for company, baz, this was a spur of the moment thing.”
“i can see that,” baz sneers, eyebrow raised- but he’s holding back a smile.
they kiss for the first time over crumpled napkins and empty coffee cups- baz breaks away first, reluctantly, face burning and lips parted in a surprised ‘o’.
“sorry,” says simon immediately, face and neck and ears flushed bright red, “i don’t know why-”
baz grabs his collar and smashes their lips together. it’s a little messy, but so are they.
and it makes simon shut up.
they’re cuddled together on simon’s couch when he asks him to move in with him.
“i know you don’t really like your flat, and- well, you’re over here often enough, so i just thought-”
“snow,” says baz slowly, “are you asking me to move in with you?”
“well, yeah,” simon says, watching baz’s face nervously. baz’s face is still as stone- then he grins.
and simon wraps his arms around baz’s neck and pulls him down for a kiss that leaves them both gasping.
baz proposes on a beach at sunset, because god damn it some things are cliches for a reason and simon deserves the best. always.
they’re wandering along the waterline, occasionally dipping their toes in the surf, fingers twined together. simon’s grinning, eyes sparkling and hair a mess tinted red by the setting sun.
baz is grinning too, because how could he not when simon’s this happy?
and they’ve stopped.
baz doesn’t feel like his body belongs to him, he’s so nervous- he doesn’t want to mess up.
simon’s looking at him expectantly, so he clears his throat and reaches for his other hand- they’re facing each other head on, now.
“simon snow,” he begins, and his voice catches. he clears his throat again. “simon snow. you’re everything.”
simon opens his mouth, brow furrowed, and baz silences him with a wave of his hand. “no, just- not now.
“you’re everything, okay? i love you. so much. and i had a fucking speech planned out and now i forgotten it all, of course.
“you were my annoying neighbor on that flight, remember? i thought you were going to puke all over to me, and you wouldn’t take the flight sickness pills for whatever reason and then you practically had a bloody panic attack but you were fucking cute so i tolerated you. and then i got your phone number.
“and then, when i was feeling bored and lonely, i texted you, and you texted back. and we kept texting. obviously. you remember this.
“and then we met for coffee, and you teased me because i was in my uniform, and i remember wanting to kiss that stupid grin off your face. i didn’t.
“so i fell in love with you and one day you kissed me and all i could think that night was thank fucking god that i had gone on that shitty holiday and thank god you decided that you’d try flying just one more time, right? because otherwise we wouldn’t have met. and i think you saved my life.”
he pauses to swallow, and chances a glance up at simon’s face. his eyes are wide.
and baz pulls out his ring, and kneels. he doesn’t even care that he’s getting sand all over his suit.
“simon, i love you. so much.
“will you marry me?”
for a single, heart stopping moment, it’s completely silent but for the sound of the crashing waves.
but then simon’s choking out a “yes, yes yes, of course you bloody idiot-” and tackling baz and there’s sand everywhere but they don’t care, they’re so full of happiness and love-
baz is married in black and simon in white. penny jokes that they’re like yin and yang. they grin at her, hands locked between them.
baz never wants to let go.
“until death do us part.”
they even do that together, falling asleep with wrinkled old fingers clasped and identical peaceful grins.
Andrew and Baz casually smoking together, not saying anything, just glaring and smoking.
Penny hanging out with Allison and Renee, they talk and have coffee, complaining about “their boys”.
Simon and Neil talking about their sexuality, both of them shrugging at the question.
Nicky and Trixie going to pride together.
Nicky and Baz having a gay off.
Matt, Dan, and Penny being the official parents of the group.
Agatha and Neil sympathizing about running away(or just running in general).
Aaron and Agatha just sitting all angry at every gathering.
i’ve been listening to disney music all evening so now this is happening. (also some credit to my lovely pal and partner in all meme crimes; karlee @simonsnoe for yelling with me about this beautiful hc)
snowbaz + disney
simon would literally know the lyrics to all disney songs
and like, i love the hc that simon can sing. so yes. simon can sing and it’s beautiful and baz is all hearteyes.
simon would have disney music playlist because he loves disney music and it just makes him happy. and he loves singing the songs around the flat whenever he gets the chance really
sometimes penny joins but penny isn’t a hardcore disney fan. she likes it but eh.
(they love to do bear necessities together tho)(cuties)
simon and baz watch a lot of disney movies together because they love having movie night ((bc lbr they would cuddle up together on the couch with blankets and everything because they’re two cuddly lil shits like that geT THEM AWAY FROM ME))((them having a movie night is a whole hc in itself))
and so whenever it’s simon’s turn to pick a movie for movie night he’ll pick a disney move 99% of the time.
he particularly loves the old classics like cinderella and sleeping beauty because “they’re just wonderful baz”
the classics just feel the most magical to simon and we all know how much simon loves ~magical~
even though his never ending love for the old classics, simon’s also a big fan of tangled
“you just like tangled bc u think the girl’s cute, snow”
“well, she is cute, but it’s also just really good fuck off baz”
baz doesn’t really like tangled
not because simon thinks rapunzel is cute but because mother gothel and the way she abuses rapunzel reminds baz of the way the mage abused simon
simon is low-key convinced baz isn’t the biggest fan of either disney movies and songs
i mean, yes he watches all the movies with simon and all but he never really sings along or shares simon’s excitement for them.
one day simon hears someone singing in the shower
baz. baz is singing in the shower
“sHALALALLALALALLALA YOU GOTTA KISS THE GURL BOI”
from that moment simon makes baz sing duets with him
ofc he makes them sing ‘love is an open door’ from frozen and they’re just so cute!!!!
one day they’re watching aladdin and simon is swooning because aladdin looks like baz and wowow *hEARTEYES*
“bAz hE LOoKs liKE yOu”
((aladdin and baz both come from middle-eastern families))
((also the hair)) ((and the nose))
“BAz yOu’RE FlyiNg oN A cARpEt”
this gives baz an idea
next day simon comes home to the flat and baz is sitting on a carpet in the living room??
and simon’s like ‘v funny baz, u cute idiot’
anD THEN THE CARPET LIFTS FROM THE GROUND
(baz spelled the carpet this enormous sap)
they basically re-an-act ‘a whole new world’ and it’s the cheesiest shit you’ll ever know
or what about them watching mulan and the song ‘a girl worth fighting for’ is on
and baz is watching mulan/ping just being awkward in that whole song (bc she/he doesn’t like girls)
and baz is just like ‘same’
okay but then bUT THEN
the lion king the musical is in theaters in london ((it actually is right now))
simon needs to go.
both simon and baz really love the lion king movie
(fact: baz cried watching the movie)
so baz get’s tickets for the trio (penny is coming along as well because this seems like good shit) (+ she’s a big supporter of poc casted musicals WOO)
they all cry in the theather
when they get home they’re all hyped up and they make their oWN ROUTINE TO CIRCLE OF LIFE
just close your eyes and imagine them doing the intro of that song, none of them really knowing what the words are because ??? “aaaaaah zimbjakabefjehwe”
oR BAZ LIFTING SIMON IN THE AIR. SIMBA STYLE. (someone draw this pls)
“IT’S THE CIRCLE OF LIFEEE”
*penny majestically dancing around them*
okay, one last thing
one day baz and simon are just being cheesy and baz ends up calling simon ‘prince charming’
and simon knows baz said it in a teasing/joking way
but simon is blushing
just snowbaz + disney is the most adorable thing don’t even fight me on this.
he’s been raised on silver spoons and golden thrones and full length windows that show the stars.
he’s told to be like one of them.
“you must be bright; you must burn so bright. but you must also be cold- colder- than ice. you are a prince, my darling. and you will be the king.” his mother smiles at him, cups his cheek with one elegant hand.
in less than a week, she’s dead.
he’s followed his mother’s advice to the letter.
it’s all he can do. he’s a marble statue, with perfect alabaster skin and perfect posture and perfect manners. he never has a hair out of place.
and he is so, so cold.
his manservant tells him he’ll find a queen to marry one day.
he’s ten, probably, and preparing for a royal wedding.
“you’ll be having one of those soon enough, sire.”
“a wedding, my prince. when you’re old enough, you’ll find yourself a wife and rule the kingdom together- king and queen.”
baz considers this. “must it be a queen?”
the manservant sneaks a quick look at baz, and there’s pity in his eyes. “yes, master, it must be.”
baz is disappointed. “i see.”
he’s brilliant, a prodigy.
he learns latin and french and italian and he’s soon challenging his tutors.
just like his mother before him.
he hopes she’d be proud.
he’s as pale as snow, contrasting starkly against the dark tunics he’s prone to wearing.
his hair falls around his face like an inky curtain, and his subjects swoon over him.
he never gives them a second look.
“you must also be cold- colder- than ice. you are a prince, my darling. and you will be the king.
“but one day you will find someone who will melt all your walls down. that’s how you’ll know.”
“know what, mother?”
she smiles and leans close, like she’s telling a secret. “they’re the one that’s made into your heart. we pitches don’t love easily, but we love forever.” she kisses his cheek.
I loved the VA series when I was in high school (still do). I’ve included enough info in the fic so even if you haven’t read the series you should be able to understand :) I hope you enjoy @carryon-countdown
Simon never questioned his status as a novice guardian. He knew it was his job to protect the moroi (mortal, magical, and humane vampires) from the strigoi (immoral, undead, and evil vampires) who hunted them down. As a dhampir (half human and half moroi) Simon was stronger than the moroi or any human but his strength and abilities would do nothing against a strigoi without the proper training. This was why he was going to St. Vladimir’s Academy to train. As a senior it was time for Simon to do six weeks of field-experience training. Simon would be assigned a moroi student to protect against school guardians (who would pretend to be strigoi). Simon was definitely one of the strongest guardians there, so he wasn’t overly concerned. He was concerned about who he’d be paired up with to guard. Penny Bunce, one of the other stronger guardians, sat beside him. She was his best friend. “I hope I don’t get a royal,” Penny scrunched her nose. The moroi had a queen and royal families. While it was a nice paying job to guard royals they tended to be stuck up and cruel. “Yeah me too.” Simon sighed. They started pairing people up. Penny got paired with Agatha Wellbelove, one of the few genuinely kind royals. Simon had to wait much longer because of his last name. When they finally got to S last names he felt his body shaking. “Simon Snow and Basilton Pitch.” He felt his stomach drop. Across the room Baz frowned in dismay and locked eyes with him. It was clear neither student was happy with the arrangement. Simon wanted to go talk to the guardians and argue about his assignment but he knew it was useless. They wouldn’t change their minds and complaining would just make him look immature. Simon would have taken anyone else over Basilton Pitch. His father was currently next in line for the throne and his mother had come from a long line of very powerful royal moroi. Baz knew this and threw it around as much as he could. He wasn’t just spoiled though, which was the worst part, he was also cruel. Simon walked over to him stiffly. “Hello Basilton. I’ll make sure to be a proper guardian for the next six weeks.” Baz raised an eyebrow. “Will you?” Simon nodded. “I’ll stay by your side day and night. I know it’s practice but…I’m very dedicated.” Baz’s face crumpled dramatically. “That’s what I was worried about.” Simon would be sharing a room with this moroi for the next six weeks. He would be eating, sleeping, and talking with him 24/7 and he couldn’t even complain about it. Because guardians didn’t complain, they just got the work done. It would be a long six weeks.
It was week three of being guarded by dhampir super star Simon Snow. Baz wished he could back out of the assignment completely but it was a required exercise for both senior dhampirs and moroi. Simon Snow was someone that, up until now, Baz had admired from afar. He was incredibly attractive, not uncommon for a dhampir. His blonde curls, tan skin, and blue eyes stood out from the others. But that wasn’t what had caught Baz’s attention. It had been the way the dhampir was always practicing, always trying in class, and always on guard. Simon Snow committed to everything he did. This included guarding Baz as if his life depended on it. For Simon it didn’t seem to matter that these weren’t real strigoi, or that some of the guardians were teachers, he acted as if they were serious threats to Baz’s life. Baz was aware that Simon was shaping up to be one of the best guardians and he knew other moroi were watching hungrily. When they all graduated, Simon would be assigned a moroi to guard. With skill such as his, many important royals would be clamoring for him. Baz wanted desperately to request Simon as his guardian, but not for the right reasons. He wanted Simon as his guardian so he would always be around, so that Baz wouldn’t have to let go of him. Basilton Pitch was in love with Simon Snow. Simon was a dhampir, meaning moroi society would never approve of him as a match for Baz. It was impossible to consider a relationship, but still Baz burned to request for him. Besides, most dhampirs died on duty. Baz couldn’t let some other helpless and lazy royal nab Snow. He would get killed within the first year. Baz had something other moroi didn’t, deadly fire magic. Whereas the other moroi did parlor tricks with their magic Baz could fight. He would be able to protect Simon better than any other charge could. He glanced at Simon next to him who was eating sloppily. His smile was easy for Baz’s friend Agatha but his eyes weren’t there. Baz watched Simon scan the room continuously, all while holding a very normal conversation. “Penny I would just love it if you’d let me request you at graduation. You’re the best, no offense Simon. And it wouldn’t be like it is with the others…I consider you a real friend.” Penny smiled. “I would love that Agatha. I really lucked out with you.” Simon’s smile disappeared. Baz spoke casually, “I’m thinking of requesting you myself Simon. You’re not so bad at this whole guardian thing.” He watched Simon tense up. Baz sighed internally. The issue was, even though Baz was in love with Simon, Simon seemed to hate him. Which after years of unfortunate rumors and political posturing Baz couldn’t really blame him for. “I’ll think about it. Thank you for the honor.”
Simon didn’t hate the idea of guarding Baz after high school. Over the past six weeks he had learned a lot about him. For instance, Simon found out that Baz hated the politics of his family. He only went to events out of familial obligation. He also learned his mother had been killed by strigoi two years ago. A former family friend, David something or other, had betrayed them and told the strigoi where to find his family. His mother had fought them off with fire magic long enough for Baz and his father to get away. But she hadn’t made it. All of this new information helped Simon shift the way he saw the moroi teenager. Baz had had to deal with more than any of the other royals and wore it seamlessly. He hadn’t let pain interfere with his duty, something that Simon felt he had in common with him. But that was the issue. Simon didn’t hate the idea of guarding Baz anymore; in fact he liked it. He liked the way Baz’s black hair looked like when he woke up in the morning. He liked the way Baz’s grey eyes crinkled when Simon made a good joke. He even liked the delicate shape of his fangs when he fed. Simon Snow was falling in love with Baz and that complicated everything. He knew he could never be with Baz. Dhampirs were looked down upon by other moroi, especially the royal ones. If Baz’s father were to become king, Baz would almost certainly be married off to a wealthy moroi princess. Could Simon guard Baz everyday while watching all of that? Still, the thought of letting anyone else guard Baz made him nauseous. Strigoi were killing moroi off faster and faster these days. Simon was confident that he could protect Baz better than most guardians out there. Even if it was torment to watch him and not be with him, he knew it would be better than the alternative. It was the last day of the exercise. Baz sat in the cafeteria eating a bagel and talking to Penny and Agatha. Simon felt nervous as he tapped him. “Can I talk to you?” Baz’s eyes widened. “Uh. Sure.” They walked over to an alcove. Simon looked at his hands nervously instead of Baz’s face. “I thought about your offer, you know me guarding you and all. And I, uh, well I accept.” Baz didn’t say anything for a moment. Simon looked up and saw that Baz was blushing pretty fiercely for a moroi. “I…okay. Good. I’m glad. You’ll make a fine guardian.” Simon felt his chest burst with warmth. He would do anything he could to protect Baz. In a classic gesture, Simon bowed. “It will be my honor.”
Prince Simon Snow has been struck down by an inevitable curse, only reversible through true love’s kiss. But when his betrothed, Agatha, is unable to break the spell, all measures are taken- including calling in renowned magician Basilton Pitch.
The outfit they’d stuffed him in was itchy and uncomfortable, and it was far too short in the trousers, so he kept feeling like he needed to pull the ankles down. He knew he looked good, though, posh even, which was both a happy memory and a terrifying flashback. He hadn’t worn clothes this nice since the fire. He looked so nice, in fact, that when the king came out to see him, he’d had to introduce himself (humbly, of course. King Davy had been known to be quite cruel at times). Davy had been looking for a peasant, and what he found looked like something entirely different.
“Basilton Pitch, your highness,” he bowed before the king, his dark hair spilling over his forehead. He tried to hide the tremor in his hands.
“I’ve heard, Mr. Pitch, that you’re a fantastic magician and doctor. Renowned, even. Is that true?” Davy’s words held a biting edge, and Baz hesitated before answering.
“That’s what people say, your grace.”
“And are you skilled in dealing with curses?”
“Depends on the type of curse, I suppose.” Baz bit at the inside of his cheek, a nervous habit.
“Sleeping curses?” The king was fully glaring at him now. Baz felt like he was trembling in his boots, but he held his ground as best he could.
“Yes, your highness, those are quite common, especially in-” he stopped in his tracks. “You mean to say that the rumors are true? About Prince Simon?”
The king’s stare intensified. His eyes were ice-blue, and they looked mean. Baz felt sorry for his servants. “Show him to the prince’s room,” he motioned to one of the attendees, who took Baz by the arm and began to lead him out. “And Mr. Pitch?” Baz looked back over his shoulder at the king.
“Yes, your majesty?”
“I’ve heard other things about you, as well, and about your romantic escapades. My son isn’t… like you. If you try anything with him, the outcome won’t be pretty.”
Humiliation colored Baz’s cheeks a deep rose. He nodded and turned back to the attendant, shuffling out of the room as quickly as possible.
For all intents and purposes, the prince could have been dead. Though when he’d first fallen asleep, he had looked bright and youthful like always, now the color was beginning to drain from his cheeks, and his usually golden skin had a pallor that suggested a far worse sickness lying beneath the surface. The first thing Baz did was check for a pulse, which to his relief, he found quickly. His heart was beating steadily and strong, and now that he looked closer, Baz could see the faint movement of breath under the heavy quilts.
He reached his hand to Prince Simon’s forehead to check for a fever, but he was actually quite cold, his face covered in clammy sweat. His curls were limp and his pink mouth seemed too brightly colored for the rest of him. “He seems to be in good health,” Baz said to the servant. “But he’s too thin, and he’s dehydrated. He needs to eat and drink. It would probably be easiest to sit him up and see if he’ll swallow things when we put them in his mouth.” The servant scrambled to help Baz prop the prince against the backboard. His head lolled to the side. “Go get some water, at least,” Baz told the servant, who rushed off eagerly.
There was no doubt that all the stories about the prince were true. Even in his death-like sleep, he was one of the most beautiful boys Baz had ever seen. His hair was made of messy bronze curls that reflected light like precious metals. His skin was smooth and creamy, dotted with freckles and dark moles. He was tall and broad shouldered and had round, full lips that were parted slightly to reveal obnoxiously straight teeth. Baz resisted the urge to reach out and tuck his unkempt curls behind one ear. It was easy to imagine a lazy smile playing along those lips, and bright eyes (he’d heard they were blue) dancing with mirth.
Breathless, the servant ran in with a pitcher of water. Baz carefully tipped the prince’s head back and poured a bit of water into his mouth. A bit dribbled down his cheek, but when Baz shut his mouth for him, he swallowed. Baz breathed a sigh of relief- he could drink, at least, which was a good sign. As long as he wasn’t asleep for too long, he should be fine. “I’ll need to know the details of the curse, of course,” Baz said to the servant after a quarter of the pitcher was gone. The servant looked uneasy.
“I’m not sure it’s really my place,” he wheedled.
“Look at me,” Baz said quietly, drawing himself up to his full height. The servant glanced up at him in fear. “If there’s any hope of me saving the prince, I’m going to be made aware of every detail, no matter how small, pointless, or secretive. Unless, of course, you’d rather he dies. In which case, I can leave right now.”
“N-no, no, I’ll go inform the king.”
Baz sat, tense and uncomfortable, at the long mahogany table. It wasn’t quite large enough to be used as a dining table, and it was too low to the ground for his long legs to fit underneath without being cramped. He drummed his fingers restlessly on the wood, waiting for the king to arrive.
The room was obviously used for meetings. It was sparsely furnished, with only a few tapestries hanging on the walls, clean and simplistic. In the corner was an easel-type stand with a pad of parchment paper on it and an inkwell in a small stand beside it, presumably for note-taking. There were no windows (privacy and all), but an oil lamp hung on the wall, emitting an incense-like smell and giving the room an eerie glow.
The door swung open and the king entered, looking harsh and untouchable as always. “You requested to see me?” He asked, gesturing to his servants to leave. Making sure the door was shut tight, he sat down across from Baz.
“Yes, your highness. I thought you would be the most appropriate person to talk to about the details of the case with the prince.”
“And what details will you be needing?” A slight edge gathered in King Davy’s voice. Unease, Baz wondered? Or simply hesitation?
“Everything possible, your majesty,” Baz replied in a firm tone. “Whatever ails Prince Simon, it’s not to be taken lightly.”
King Davy sighed heavily. “Very well. But just know, Mr. Pitch, that there are dire consequences if any of this is to leak to the public. I can make your death look like an unfortunate accident.” A shiver ran down Baz’s spine.
“You killed her! You bastard!” Davy struck the old wizard across the face, his wrinkled skin swelling up and purpling on contact. His teeth were bared, his breathing heavy. “I’ll kill you, I swear to Merlin I’ll have you killed!”
“If you’ll simply wait-” the wizard began, but the his words were drowned with another blow from the fuming king.
“Do you know who I am? Do you know how easily I can ruin your insignificant life? Bring her back this very instant, or I’ll-”
“Your highness, if you’ll just listen-”
“I won’t listen to a word that comes from that grimy mouth of yours, you pathetic old numpty!” Davy spat. He swung once more, but the old wizard caught his wrist with incredible agility. Shock ran across Davy’s face and was replaced instantaneously with fear as the old wizard opened his mouth and began to speak. His voice was clearly thick with magic, and his eyes blazed with a thousand-year-old fire that struck Davy to the core.
“Listen here, and listen well,“ the wizard began, tightening his grip on Davy’s forearm.
“Not even royalty can escape my spell
Your cruelty and rage has sparked my own
And through these words my revenge is won
A lovely wife you now will lose
Whom you would have had with a moment’s pause
A beautiful son is yours to keep
Until a spindle puts him to sleep
On the sixteenth day of his sixteenth year
A death-like sleep, his greatest fear
Will come to be, and then you’ll see
The true meaning of misery
His light will be forever missed
Unless he’s awakened by true love’s kiss.”
The wizard’s grip on Davy’s arm slackened, and then he was gone.
In case you haven’t noticed, there is still magic in this world, but it’s a little bit different then in Carry On (and Simon isn’t a magician). Enjoy! :)