Sssssh it’s Thursday here now don’t tell anyone Thank you for the tags today @artsyunderstudy! Mirrors is so beautiful and I love every update you share. Today I have some more snippets from my COBB, I think I’m in the home stretch of the first draft now! ( side note anyone maybe be down to beta-read? It’s eventually explicit but a veeeeery slow burn, canon divergence au, around the 20k mark rn but will probably be closer to 30k when done <3 )

Baz

It is a long day, made all the more excruciating by Simon’s presence. He’s just so here. He keeps flipping pages of books with aggression— I snap at him more than once to take it easy, they’re magickal texts for Merlin’s sake— and huffing when he presumably comes up without any answers. My gaze keeps slipping from my own book up to his face. He’s got a nice, square jaw that I catch myself thinking about licking more than once. I shake my head to dislodge the image, and Simon notices. 

and then some Natasha from my COBB, too! Flashback time...

I haven’t gone home yet. I spoke with Malcolm on the phone last night, like I have every night since I’ve come to London to deal with this wretched mess of a situation:

“He misses you, Nat. I miss you.” 

“I know, and it won’t be much longer. We’ve just got to tie up some loose ends.” 

“I know,” he sighed. “The manor isn’t the same without you.”

“Malcolm, I’m gone most of the year at Watford.”

“That’s what makes this time all the more important.”

I blinked away the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. “I’ll be back soon, my love. I promise.” 

Basil called out in the background, but I couldn’t understand his words. There was a rattling of the phone, and then his little voice squeaked through the phone. 

“Hello, mum.”

“Hello, Basil,” I sighed. He was still okay. He was still himself. “How are you?”

“I miss you. Are you safe?” 

My heart cracked in two. My boy, barely five, worried for his mother’s safety when it should be the other way around. (It is the other way around. I’m fretting about him constantly.) 

“Safe as can be. I’m with Aunt Fiona, remember?”

Basil made a dubious hum, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Five going on twenty-five, I swear.

Thank you for the tags @martsonmars @palimpsessed Loving your wips :D  I’m sharing some more COBB today, since I actually wrote words!! I got to see my collaborator @ic3-que3n‘s first piece and felt ✨motivated✨

Simon

He reaches his hand out. It takes me a moment to realise what he wants. I tense, drawing myself further and further inward until my form begins to shift. It starts with my hand, stretching from smoke into flesh and bone and blood. I place it in his, and revel in his gaze as the rest of my body appears in full. Like this, anyone could be mistaken for assuming I am a man. 

and here’s six more from Baz from the same fic, because I can’t help myself: 

Baz

I tell myself that I won’t go back for him. I recite it over and over again, chewing on the thought until it’s like flavourless gum, all texture and no taste. I brush my teeth- I’m not going back; I blow-dry my hair- I’m not going back; I eat breakfast with Mordelia and Daphne while my father works the cattle- I’m not going back; I study for hours on end in the Library, poring over course readings for papers I’m not even sure if I want to be taking- I’m not going back; I lie my head down at night, sinking into my feather pillows and weighted blankets- I’m not going back. 

I think it and think it and think it, until it becomes a prayer. I’m willing myself to forget him, and every night I fail. Every night he enters my dreams and I let him, revelling in the softness of his touch, the heat of his presence.

Tags below the cut :) <3 

Thank you @palimpsessed for the tag! I’m squeezing this in just before midnight Sunday my time- I wrote more COBB this week! Cracked the 6k mark and finally reached the proper first meeting between Simon & Baz. 

Baz

The cursed ring burns in my palm. I grip it tight, like perhaps I can strangle the magic out of it by force. 

“Who are you?” I demand. 

The voice sighs. “Does it really matter?” 

Well, that’s oddly maudlin. I press on. “It matters because you’re frightening my family. What are you?” 

“Oh, I can answer that!” it says. (It? Him? He sounds like a man). “I’m a demon.” 

“You can’t be. A demon summoning hasn’t been recorded since the 1800s.” I raise an eyebrow in contempt, but my heart betrays me with a leap into my throat. 

Demon!Simon, a mysterious ring... my oh my, what will Baz do? 

Thank you for the tag @ivelovedhimthroughworse! Your snippet made me laugh! 

I’ve got some COBB today— definitely more than six sentences, but hey ho—I’ve been writing some more Natasha pov: 

We’re in Fiona’s flat. Fi, Nico and I. It’s… odd, to say the least. They’re both out on her balcony having a smoke at the moment. I’m curled up on her (frankly decrepit) sofa with a mug of peppermint tea. There’s a scratchy crochet blanket around my shoulders, and borrowed socks on my feet. 

“Alright?” Foina asks. She and Nico return to the living room and sit down opposite me. That seat is even worse— it’s a fold-out bed, with sheets still crumpled from my sleep last night. 

“I’m fine, Fiona.” 

“Don’t fucking be like that.”

“What am I supposed to say, Fi? That I’m fine with this?” I say, gesturing between the two of them. Not for the first time, Nico moves to stand and Fiona tugs him back down by the wrist. 

“I can’t help but feel like me dating a vampire isn’t the most pressing matter here, all things considered.” 

I sniff. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh come off it,” Nico sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose, long-suffering. “We all bloody saw them.”

@bazzybelle

Thank you for the tags @basiltonbutliketheherb @artsyunderstudy! I actually wrote a bit this past week, so I’m sharing some sentences from my COBB wip :) 

context: Simon can shift forms between fog and human 

COBB (Baz pov) 

“I have questions,” I announce, skipping the pleasantries. 

“You always have questions,” Simon replies. His voice is right in the shell of my ear again, like he’s a breath away from my skin. 

His fog draws in, in, in, gaining opacity and form. It starts with his hand, stretching from smoke into flesh and bone and blood. He places it in mine, and I watch intently as the rest of his body appears in full. Once again he wears a plain t-shirt and jeans, black tail whipping back and forth behind him. Like this, anyone could be mistaken for assuming he’s just a man. 

I grip his hand tightly. 

“And hello to you too, Baz,” he snarks. 

I yank on his hand and he stumbles closer to me. It’s nice, looking down my nose at him. I like the way his chin juts out as he looks up at me. 

“Do you have answers?” I ask.