![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
SLASH FIC: Off to See the Wizard pt 6-1/2 [Buffy/Anita]
Another suck-ass birthday. All I've got to say about it is... whatever.
Here's to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fireicefaerie and elistaire
Title: Off to See the Wizard
Author: Feygan
Fandom: Buffy/Anita Blake
Pairing: Oz/Jason, Jean-Claude/Asher, Anita/Micah/Nathaniel, Xander/Andrew, Willow/Kennedy
Warning: violence, character-bashing, rape, were-bestiality
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the Anita Blake universe or its characters.
LiveJournal: http://feygan.livejournal.com
Home: http://www.darkgesture.com/fanfiction.htm
.
.
.
Pain, then fierce light. Waking up to the fact that everything was different. The world had been changed somehow.
The first thing he saw was Oz, those eyes somehow managing to be both solemn and filled with such an overwhelming relief that it was almost painful to behold.
"Wha..." He coughed to clear his throat, spitting up a gobbet of blood. "What happened?" he asked, his voice coming out weaker than he expected.
"That bitch shot you," Oz said.
"Who?" Everything was kind of blurry in Jason's head.
Oz shook his head, then pointed at someone on Jason's other side.
Moving took a phenomenal amount of effort, but Jason managed to kind of flop his head in the other direction.
Seeing Anita's guilty face sent memory bursting through him. His whole body just kind of jerked, the fight or flight reaction curtailed by his overwhelming weakness.
More than anything, he wanted to run away from the woman that had shot him, killed him.
She looked at him out of pleading eyes and reached out with her hand as if to touch him. He couldn't help the flinch, saw no reason to even try. He didn't owe Anita any kind of consideration. She had shot him.
"Get away from him, Anita." Jean-Claude's voice was harsher than he had ever heard it as the vampire stepped in front of Anita. "You have done enough here, n'est pas?"
"But I..." She lowered her head and backed away. "I'm... I'm sorry Jason." With that she turned and rushed out of the room, her heels clicking against the floor.
"How are you, my pomme de sang?" Jean-Claude asked, looking down at him.
Jason groaned. "I feel like I just died. So why am I alive?" He looked at Oz. "Oz?"
The other man just looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. "I really don't know how I did it."
Jason tried to shift his position and had to stifle a groan. His entire body ached and he felt as though his chest had been blown open then put back together again.
"Whoa, man, don't move around too much," Oz said.
Jason smiled a little. "You're pretty chatty after someone almost dies, huh?"
"It's my thing," Oz said.
"Are you able to sit up?" Jean-Claude asked, not quite butting in.
Jason couldn't even manage an emphatic twitch of his big toe much less a shake of the head. "No."
Jean-Claude sighed, then raised two fingers at someone across the room. "Very well, then. I should like to have a small tete-e-tete with our new friend." Blue vampire eyes looking at Oz.
Jason wanted to insist that Oz had to go with him, but he knew it wouldn't amount to anything. What Jean-Claude said would go because the vampire's words held all the strength of LAW.
As Castor and Pollux lifted him up, Jason kept his eyes on Oz for as long as possible. It felt as though if he looked away the blue haired man would disappear.
His last sight of Oz as he was taken through the double-doors was of the young man still kneeling on the floor. He looked impossibly young, but those still eyes made him somehow ageless. It was kind of strange, but the image of Oz surrounded by a pool of blood and with red streaks of colors across his hands and face was somehow right.
Even though he had shown no outward signs of it, there was something wild about Oz, feral. Inside that narrow chest beat the heart of a predator.
* * *
Oz looked up at Jean-Claude, wondering what the vampire would say, what impossible questions he was about to be asked.
"Who are you, mister Osbourn? Why do I find you here in my city now?"
Oz couldn't help shivering a little at the velvet sound of that voice. Vampires in this world were definitely different from what he was used to.
"Like I told you, I don't really know how I came here. If I could go home, I would, but I can't." Oz had to practically force the words out, exerting the effort necessary to push the words out past his own laconic nature.
Jean-Claude rubbed his chin. "I do not know whether I should believe your testimonies of innocence... but I thank you for saving the life of my pomme de sang."
"I like Jason. He's cool," Oz said simply.
Jean-Claude just looked at him for a long moment, then allowed himself a brief laugh. "You amuse me, petit homme. You display a truly extraordinary amount of power, yet you still act as if you are a normal man." The vampire leaned close. "You interest me."
"I didn't plan to."
Jean-Claude looked amused. "You are in my world now. It is only a matter of time before you must reveal all your secrets."
Oz felt a nervous flutter in his belly. It was weird having those eyes look at him like that. There was no way someone like Jean-Claude should show so much interest in him. It was wrong and very disquieting.
.
Oz made it to the room he'd been given and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. Dried blood was flaking around him and the smell was making him uncomfortable. Hungry.
Having saved Jason's life had gotten him a Get-Out-of-Awkward-Questions card for the night, but he knew it wasn't going to last long. Jean-Claude had seemed too interested in him to just let it go. So Oz knew there would soon come a time when he would have to offer up some kind of answers.
Standing naked under the hot spray, pink-tinged water slipping down the drain, he closed his eyes.
He vaguely remembered a time when his life was normal. Back before werewolf bites, vampire slaying, and the oddly delightful sensation of bloody flesh between his teeth. He remembered the days of Dingoes Ate My Baby, hanging out with almost-friends, and the way he had dreamed of rebelling against the boringly "normal" Sunnydale lifestyle--by coloring his hair unnatural hues and wearing too much jewelry.
All those days were passed and he was here now, a speck of flotsam in the cosmic whirlpool of life.
He didn't know when they started, but tears seeped from his eyes faster and faster until they merged with the shower spray, a never ending stream of formless grief.
He didn't know when he had completely lost control of his life, but he somehow knew he was never going to get it back.
I feel like I'm trapped in an episode of The Venture Brothers with Brock Sampson beating on me, he thought, a faint smile trying to quirk his lips. Then he was kneeling on the shower floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
He just felt so helpless, the shape of his life far out of his view and control.
TBC...
Here's to
fireicefaerie and elistaireTitle: Off to See the Wizard
Author: Feygan
Fandom: Buffy/Anita Blake
Pairing: Oz/Jason, Jean-Claude/Asher, Anita/Micah/Nathaniel, Xander/Andrew, Willow/Kennedy
Warning: violence, character-bashing, rape, were-bestiality
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the Anita Blake universe or its characters.
LiveJournal: http://feygan.livejournal.com
Home: http://www.darkgesture.com/fanfiction.htm
.
.
.
Pain, then fierce light. Waking up to the fact that everything was different. The world had been changed somehow.
The first thing he saw was Oz, those eyes somehow managing to be both solemn and filled with such an overwhelming relief that it was almost painful to behold.
"Wha..." He coughed to clear his throat, spitting up a gobbet of blood. "What happened?" he asked, his voice coming out weaker than he expected.
"That bitch shot you," Oz said.
"Who?" Everything was kind of blurry in Jason's head.
Oz shook his head, then pointed at someone on Jason's other side.
Moving took a phenomenal amount of effort, but Jason managed to kind of flop his head in the other direction.
Seeing Anita's guilty face sent memory bursting through him. His whole body just kind of jerked, the fight or flight reaction curtailed by his overwhelming weakness.
More than anything, he wanted to run away from the woman that had shot him, killed him.
She looked at him out of pleading eyes and reached out with her hand as if to touch him. He couldn't help the flinch, saw no reason to even try. He didn't owe Anita any kind of consideration. She had shot him.
"Get away from him, Anita." Jean-Claude's voice was harsher than he had ever heard it as the vampire stepped in front of Anita. "You have done enough here, n'est pas?"
"But I..." She lowered her head and backed away. "I'm... I'm sorry Jason." With that she turned and rushed out of the room, her heels clicking against the floor.
"How are you, my pomme de sang?" Jean-Claude asked, looking down at him.
Jason groaned. "I feel like I just died. So why am I alive?" He looked at Oz. "Oz?"
The other man just looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. "I really don't know how I did it."
Jason tried to shift his position and had to stifle a groan. His entire body ached and he felt as though his chest had been blown open then put back together again.
"Whoa, man, don't move around too much," Oz said.
Jason smiled a little. "You're pretty chatty after someone almost dies, huh?"
"It's my thing," Oz said.
"Are you able to sit up?" Jean-Claude asked, not quite butting in.
Jason couldn't even manage an emphatic twitch of his big toe much less a shake of the head. "No."
Jean-Claude sighed, then raised two fingers at someone across the room. "Very well, then. I should like to have a small tete-e-tete with our new friend." Blue vampire eyes looking at Oz.
Jason wanted to insist that Oz had to go with him, but he knew it wouldn't amount to anything. What Jean-Claude said would go because the vampire's words held all the strength of LAW.
As Castor and Pollux lifted him up, Jason kept his eyes on Oz for as long as possible. It felt as though if he looked away the blue haired man would disappear.
His last sight of Oz as he was taken through the double-doors was of the young man still kneeling on the floor. He looked impossibly young, but those still eyes made him somehow ageless. It was kind of strange, but the image of Oz surrounded by a pool of blood and with red streaks of colors across his hands and face was somehow right.
Even though he had shown no outward signs of it, there was something wild about Oz, feral. Inside that narrow chest beat the heart of a predator.
* * *
Oz looked up at Jean-Claude, wondering what the vampire would say, what impossible questions he was about to be asked.
"Who are you, mister Osbourn? Why do I find you here in my city now?"
Oz couldn't help shivering a little at the velvet sound of that voice. Vampires in this world were definitely different from what he was used to.
"Like I told you, I don't really know how I came here. If I could go home, I would, but I can't." Oz had to practically force the words out, exerting the effort necessary to push the words out past his own laconic nature.
Jean-Claude rubbed his chin. "I do not know whether I should believe your testimonies of innocence... but I thank you for saving the life of my pomme de sang."
"I like Jason. He's cool," Oz said simply.
Jean-Claude just looked at him for a long moment, then allowed himself a brief laugh. "You amuse me, petit homme. You display a truly extraordinary amount of power, yet you still act as if you are a normal man." The vampire leaned close. "You interest me."
"I didn't plan to."
Jean-Claude looked amused. "You are in my world now. It is only a matter of time before you must reveal all your secrets."
Oz felt a nervous flutter in his belly. It was weird having those eyes look at him like that. There was no way someone like Jean-Claude should show so much interest in him. It was wrong and very disquieting.
.
Oz made it to the room he'd been given and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. Dried blood was flaking around him and the smell was making him uncomfortable. Hungry.
Having saved Jason's life had gotten him a Get-Out-of-Awkward-Questions card for the night, but he knew it wasn't going to last long. Jean-Claude had seemed too interested in him to just let it go. So Oz knew there would soon come a time when he would have to offer up some kind of answers.
Standing naked under the hot spray, pink-tinged water slipping down the drain, he closed his eyes.
He vaguely remembered a time when his life was normal. Back before werewolf bites, vampire slaying, and the oddly delightful sensation of bloody flesh between his teeth. He remembered the days of Dingoes Ate My Baby, hanging out with almost-friends, and the way he had dreamed of rebelling against the boringly "normal" Sunnydale lifestyle--by coloring his hair unnatural hues and wearing too much jewelry.
All those days were passed and he was here now, a speck of flotsam in the cosmic whirlpool of life.
He didn't know when they started, but tears seeped from his eyes faster and faster until they merged with the shower spray, a never ending stream of formless grief.
He didn't know when he had completely lost control of his life, but he somehow knew he was never going to get it back.
I feel like I'm trapped in an episode of The Venture Brothers with Brock Sampson beating on me, he thought, a faint smile trying to quirk his lips. Then he was kneeling on the shower floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
He just felt so helpless, the shape of his life far out of his view and control.
TBC...