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Ok, queue for @ckfemslashnetwork is scheduled through the new year. If you hear a weird sound thatâs probably me scraping the bottom of the barrel lmao
what if the âheart-shapped band-aidâ story Ziva tells Gibbs didnât happen in Cairo. What if it happened in Paris just after? What if, she followed them back to Paris and watched them for a day or so? What if she saw all this happen. Tali in the park, running and playing and she falls and scrapes her knee. Sheâs crying and Ziva wants nothing more than to run out and comfort her baby, but she canât. So she hides in the shadows and watches. Watches Tony calm Tali down, clean the cut, take a band-aid and and cut it into the shape of a heart that makes their little girl smile again. And it is in that moment, Ziva David knew that she could go finish her job. Her baby was going to be okay.Â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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there was another anon who asked for this one too so i hope they see it here :D sorry it took a few days!! thank you so much for the prompt i hope you like it bc i freaking love soulmate aus and im so happy to have an excuse to write one
soulmate au: if you write/draw on your skin it shows up on your soulmateâs skin
words: 1.6kÂ
warnings: lol none im an innocent
Baz hated soulmates. He hated all the couples walking around Watford with their cute little hearts scribbled on skin, mirrored on the other person. He hated that he knew who his soulmate was. And he hated most of all that he could never have him.
Baz had done extensive research trying to learn about the magic behind soulmate links. He couldnât find out how to reverse it. He couldnât find out how to reset it. But he did find a few old articles and papers of one-sided soulmates and Baz realized very quickly that once again he fell in with the less than one percent. The unfortunate ones. Â
When Baz was little, before his mum died, soulmates were his favorite thing. His mom and dad would write each other little messages on their arms and Baz dreamed of doing the same thing someday. He would doodle on his arm and write messages to his soulmate, but they never wrote back. His mum said that his soulmate mustâve just missed them.
Baz later found out in his third year of Watford that all of his embarrassing doodles and notes had ended up on the arm of none other than his sworn enemy (and roommate).Â
Heâd decided to write a note on his arm, after 8 years of religiously keeping his skin clean. When it appeared on Snow, sleeping five feet away, Baz rubbed it off his skin until his arm was raw.
He never so much as traced a message on his arm again. Snow never found out.
~ Eighth Year ~
âHey Baz?â Snow whispered into the dark.
Baz glanced at his alarm clock. 1 am. âGo to sleep, Snow,â he grumbled at the idiotic blonde on the opposite side of the room.
Baz could only make out his head and wild curls peeking out of the blankets in the faint moonlight of the fucking window Snow insisted they keep open year-round, even in the winter. Especially in the winter. As if Baz wasnât already cold enough being a bloody fucking vampire.
âWhoâs your soulmate?â Snow asked, persisting. As stubborn as a brick wall, with equivalent social skills. Baz tried to ignore the way his breath caught at the question.
âExcuse me?â Baz turned over to face Snow. He prayed the darkness would hide his eyes. Theyâd give him away in an instant. His trained apathy was useless at one in morning. Â
âWell, havenât you ever written your soulmate?â He gestured at Bazâs arm.
âNo.â Baz snapped, âhave you?â he couldnât help himself.
Snow stayed silent a moment and stared at the floor between them, âno⊠Agatha keeps asking me to try it. She wants to know whether weâre really meant to be together.â
âThen just doodle on your goddamn skin, Snow.â Baz said, turning his back towards Snow again and hoping Snow would drop the conversation.
âI donât want it to not work,â he whispered, âwhat if it doesnât work?â
He sounded heartbroken. Bazâs lifeless heart lurched at the thought. Heâd never let himself dream that Snow could ever be his soulmate back. Because Snow was straight. Because they were enemies. Because nothing ever really seemed to work out in Bazâs favor. So Snow had to be Wellbeloveâs soulmate, and she had had to be Snowâs.
âThen sheâs not your bloody soulmate. Write on your damn skin already, Iâm sure sheâs your soulmate. The golden couple of Watford, happily ever after.â
Snowâs face turned red at that, âshut up.â
âThatâs the best youâve got?â Baz snorted. Snow could never clapback. Talking wasnât really his thing. Neither were spells. Or anything having to do with words, in general. Poor Bunce. Poor Wellbelove.
***
Baz wasnât following Snow. Absolutely not. It was pure coincidence that Snow and Wellbelove didnât notice Baz sitting a few feet behind them on the Great Lawn, reading his history assignment.
And Baz wouldâve left, but he didnât have the willpower.
âAgatha, I think Iâm ready to try writing on my arm.â
âFucking finally, Simon. You made such a big deal out of it for nothing.â Snow shrugged sheepishly at her words. He pulled a pen (Bazâs pen, his good pen, wanker mustâve stolen from his desk) and rolled up his sleeve.
He glanced up at Agatha, who rolled her eyes at his nervous expression. âJust do it, Simon.â
He reluctantly touched the pen to his arm and started writing slowly. Agatha didnât roll up her sleeve. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.
âDid it work? Lemme see it!â Snow reached out and turned over her wrist.
The whole world froze.
âIt didnât work, Simon. I think that means weâre not really meant to be.â Her voice sounded like ice. Baz could hear the blood pounding in Snowâs head. Or maybe it was his own, but he hadnât been down to the catacombs in awhile.
âButââ
âYou already knew it too, Simon.â She left him like that. Crumbled in the grass. Everything was silent, even the birds took a break from their incessant chirping, yielding to the golden boy broken in the grass.
âFuck!â He shouted, finally. His green, smoky magic was coming off of him in rolling, nauseating waves. A first year twenty meters to Bazâs left threw up. A few third years scattered, trying to get out of Snowâs vicinity.Â
Baz left too. He knew he couldnât watch Snow cry or go off, if he did he would lose it too. And if Snow caught Baz watching him, all of that lose magic would suddenly be concentrated on Baz and chances are it wouldnât be friendly fire.
***
When Snow finally returned to the room that night, his cheeks were still stained with tears and the chicken-scratch on his arm was scrubbed raw, but still there.
Snow stopped next to Bazâs desk, foot tapping incessantly, âWell. You were wrong, you were wrong, Basilton. For the first time in your bloody perfect life.â
âYouâve still got a soulmate, somewhere. Just write them if you care so much.â Baz rolled his eyes. Snow was a damn mess.
Snow let out a clipped laugh, âOh yeah? And why donât you write your soulmate, then? Huh? Whatâs stopping you?â Snow hissed, throwing his school bag in the direction of his bed. He was burning up. The room was starting to smell like smoke.
âBecause.â
âBecause? Because?! Give me your fucking arm.â Snow snapped, reaching for Baz.
Baz recoiled from him. âCrowley Snow, calm down!â
âIâll do it if you do.â Snow bargained, staring intensely at Baz.
âWhat?â
âIâll write my soulmate if you write yours. Weâre the only freaks in this school too scared to try it, for Christâs sake.â Snow shrugged. He didnât even bother to wipe away the tears rolling down his face. Baz was tempted to take it upon himself, but he let them fall to the uneven floorboards instead.
âDeal.â Baz didnât really have anything left to lose at this point. Maybe Snow would finally take him out of his misery.
âReally?â Snow looked like someone slapped him and took a step back.
Baz smirked, âYouâre going to back out of your own deal?â
âI, noââ he got flustered to easily.
âThen letâs get this over with.â Baz snagged a pen off his desk and turned over his wrist. Snow hopped up on Bazâs desk and did the same.
âOn three.â Baz mumbled.
âOne-â
âTwo-â
âThree!â They exclaimed.
Baz drew a heart. He didnât have anything to say to Snow. He watched Snowâs wrist as if he could see it forming under his sleeve.
Snow sat on Bazâs desk, staring at his opposite wrist intensely for a solid three minutes.
âSnow. Wake up.â Baz shoved him off his desk.
âWhen are they going to answer me?â He whined.
Baz shrugged, and made moves to exit the room. âI donât bloody well know, Snow.â
âWhat did you write?â Baz blushed and held out his wrist.
âOh, Merlin. Thatâs so much better than mine.â Snow mumbled. Baz grabbed Snowâs wrist, not surprised by the atrocious âHIâ scrawled there.
Baz snorted as Snow shoved him the rest of the way out of the room.
***
Baz didnât noticed it until he stepped into the shower. The atrocious, adorable, chicken-scratch âHIâ scrawled on his wrist. His breath caught. It couldnât be.
Or it could. The pounding on the bathroom door sounded like a fucking sledgehammer.
âBasilton fucking Pitch open the door! OPEN THE GODDAMNED DOOR!â Snow screamed. Baz scrambled out of the shower and tugged on his robe. He unlocked the door hesitantly and it creaked open painfully slowly, to reveal one very red, angry Simon Snow.
And then he charged.
âAnath-â Bazâs protests were silenced by Snowâs lips on his.
Snow backed Baz up against the sink, gripping Bazâs hips underneath white-knuckled fingers.
âWhy did you keep it from me the whole time?â Snow panted, taking a half-step back, just enough to look up into Bazâs eyes. His hands were still tight on Bazâs hips and Bazâs hand dropped from Simonâs hair to his cheek.
âI didnât-â
âDonât lie to me Pitch, you knew this whole goddamned time.â Simon muttered, tracing circles on Bazâs stomach.
âI thought it was one sided. You were with Agatha four hours ago.â
âItâs not one sided. I just needed help figuring it out.â Simon mumbled, playing with them hem of Bazâs shirt. He wouldnât look up, but Baz could see the blush spreading across his cheeks.
âIdiot.â Baz rolled his eyes, and Simon reached up for another kiss.
~
feedback welcome! ngl this is probably shit im sorry⊠sorry for any mistakesÂ