cockroach clusters are love.
Aug. 23rd, 2005 04:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dollsomeI am the fic requests queen of the world, my friend. Except for the part where I'm kinda not. But now I'm down to having completed . . . two, I believe. And that right there is a little thing called progress.
So!
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aeternitasbeach -- Snape/Sinistra; forever.
"You do realize," Snape says, his lip curled into a sneer, "that hags are the only creatures reputed to hold a penchant for such things?"
"Yep," Auriga agrees, unperturbed.
"And that therefore in presenting them to you, a joke was actually being made at your pitiful expense?" he presses, taking a few steps closer in order to hover intimidatingly over her more effectively.
"Mmhmm," she responds, perfectly casual, and meets his gaze with infuriating obliviousness. One hand wanders up and absently smoothes the collar of his robes. He swats it away, the way one might a fly.
"Ah," he says, and takes a long, sharp breath through gritted teeth. She seems to lose interest in him, casting her attention instead on a worn paperback -- Her Wicked Centaur. Ridiculous. Typical. "It is truly a testament to precisely how deranged you are, Auriga, that you keep something that represents such a blatantly crafted insult."
"I dunno." She shrugs slightly, and flips through the book's pages with a nonchalance that is nothing short of maddening. "I think it's rather sweet, actually."
He is at a loss. Nothing short of bewildered. Why he bothers with her in the first place is an utter mystery to him at times like these. (The fact that it is not a mystery at others is something that he will make sure she never discovers, of course.)
Willing the vein in his temple not to twitch -- he is not about to award her any victories -- he casts a highly disdainful glance at the box of Cockroach Clusters. Over the years he has found that disdain masks bemusement most effectively. "Sweet?"
"Well, yeah," she chirps, and grins up at him. Her glasses are sliding down her nose. As usual. "It's the first present that you ever gave me, isn't it? And clearly an illustration of the fact that you were thinking of me, in your own twisted way."
"Receiving a box of Cockroach Clusters for Valentine's Day is not some skewed romantic sentiment, Auriga," he reminds her tersely. "Rather, it is -- how did you put it? -- clearly an illustration of the fact that I loathed y--"
"Sure, right, of course," she cuts in, and waves a dismissive hand. "You loathed me, I loathed you, regardless you still couldn't bring yourself to resist my feminine wiles--"
"Wiles?"
"Wiles," she confirms with a nod.
He narrows his eyes at her. "As usual, Auriga, your version of events is hopelessly distorted--"
"--and I happen to think it's a meaningful gift," she interjects, crossing her arms in front of her chest and fixing him with a level stare. He expects her glasses will go crashing to the floor any moment now. Poor eyesight certainly does not become her. "So I expect I'll hang on to it for awhile."
And with that, she goes back to Her Wicked Centaur. He distracts himself for a moment by thinking that it must certainly be considered greatly offensive to the centaur community, not to mention the more sane members of the human race. That Moira K. Mockridge is doubtlessly a repulsive woman, if she spends all her time dreaming up fantasies concerning--
Oh, fine. He cannot stand it any longer. (Damn her.)
"How long, exactly?" he asks, trying his best to sound as though he does not care.
She beams. "Forever."
He scowls, and vows to abandon insulting gifts where all future occasions are concerned, as they are clearly wasted upon her, anyhow.
(It does not dawn on him that this might have been her intention entirely.)
So!
For
aeternitasbeach -- Snape/Sinistra; forever."You do realize," Snape says, his lip curled into a sneer, "that hags are the only creatures reputed to hold a penchant for such things?"
"Yep," Auriga agrees, unperturbed.
"And that therefore in presenting them to you, a joke was actually being made at your pitiful expense?" he presses, taking a few steps closer in order to hover intimidatingly over her more effectively.
"Mmhmm," she responds, perfectly casual, and meets his gaze with infuriating obliviousness. One hand wanders up and absently smoothes the collar of his robes. He swats it away, the way one might a fly.
"Ah," he says, and takes a long, sharp breath through gritted teeth. She seems to lose interest in him, casting her attention instead on a worn paperback -- Her Wicked Centaur. Ridiculous. Typical. "It is truly a testament to precisely how deranged you are, Auriga, that you keep something that represents such a blatantly crafted insult."
"I dunno." She shrugs slightly, and flips through the book's pages with a nonchalance that is nothing short of maddening. "I think it's rather sweet, actually."
He is at a loss. Nothing short of bewildered. Why he bothers with her in the first place is an utter mystery to him at times like these. (The fact that it is not a mystery at others is something that he will make sure she never discovers, of course.)
Willing the vein in his temple not to twitch -- he is not about to award her any victories -- he casts a highly disdainful glance at the box of Cockroach Clusters. Over the years he has found that disdain masks bemusement most effectively. "Sweet?"
"Well, yeah," she chirps, and grins up at him. Her glasses are sliding down her nose. As usual. "It's the first present that you ever gave me, isn't it? And clearly an illustration of the fact that you were thinking of me, in your own twisted way."
"Receiving a box of Cockroach Clusters for Valentine's Day is not some skewed romantic sentiment, Auriga," he reminds her tersely. "Rather, it is -- how did you put it? -- clearly an illustration of the fact that I loathed y--"
"Sure, right, of course," she cuts in, and waves a dismissive hand. "You loathed me, I loathed you, regardless you still couldn't bring yourself to resist my feminine wiles--"
"Wiles?"
"Wiles," she confirms with a nod.
He narrows his eyes at her. "As usual, Auriga, your version of events is hopelessly distorted--"
"--and I happen to think it's a meaningful gift," she interjects, crossing her arms in front of her chest and fixing him with a level stare. He expects her glasses will go crashing to the floor any moment now. Poor eyesight certainly does not become her. "So I expect I'll hang on to it for awhile."
And with that, she goes back to Her Wicked Centaur. He distracts himself for a moment by thinking that it must certainly be considered greatly offensive to the centaur community, not to mention the more sane members of the human race. That Moira K. Mockridge is doubtlessly a repulsive woman, if she spends all her time dreaming up fantasies concerning--
Oh, fine. He cannot stand it any longer. (Damn her.)
"How long, exactly?" he asks, trying his best to sound as though he does not care.
She beams. "Forever."
He scowls, and vows to abandon insulting gifts where all future occasions are concerned, as they are clearly wasted upon her, anyhow.
(It does not dawn on him that this might have been her intention entirely.)
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no subject
Date: 2005-08-24 01:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-24 04:23 am (UTC)Omg, I love them so.
Seriously. This love? It will never end. It is forever. Even if Snape does turn out to truly be an evil bastard (noit'snottrue), I will always love S/S. It owns my soul.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-24 06:44 pm (UTC)-waves S/S OTP! banner-
Brilliant, Ms. Nita. Absolutel brilliant.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-24 07:02 pm (UTC)I adore this and I adore youuuuuu~ thanks so much!
...and keep the S/S coming ;)
~Mirai
no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 12:00 am (UTC)