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crack_van2012-05-14 09:29 pm
mizface.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2012-05-14 09:29 pm
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Pangur Ban and the Very Friendly Viking by Jay Tryfanstone (R)
Fandom: WB/CW RPF
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Length: ~5500
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tryfanstone
Author Website: jay tryfanstone’s fics
Why this must be read:
There are lots of reasons to read this. You get to see Jared as a shy monk, who cares more about the illuminated text he’s working on than his own safety. Then there's Jensen, who is, as the title suggests, a very friendly Viking who steals Jared away. And of course, there's Pangur Ban, Jared’s beloved cat. This is written so beautifully – I could easily see each and every scene. I adore the little details the author added; bits about how the colors used in the manuscript were created made the artist in me especially happy.
Originally from a blindfold_spn prompt, with the request of no non-con (and despite the premise, there’s no dubcon either), this is a sweet tale that will charm you and put a smile on your face.
Hand stilled, shoulders hunched, Jared froze. He could hear the sound of Pangur Ban, purring. He could smell salt, and sweat, and something rich and harsh beyond both he did not recognize.
He was being watched.
He looked up. Slowly, under his eyelashes.
From the other side of the desk, a Viking grinned back at him.
Shock drove Jared to his feet, knocked his thighs off the desk and flung him willy-nilly hard back down. The brush dropped, the pigment scattered, he couldn't breathe for the fear stopped in his throat, and silent and wicked as any painted devil, the Viking watched back with amused, intimate eyes.
If the alarm bell had rung, Jared hadn't heard. If Pangur Ban had hissed, he'd ignored her. Instead, the monastery was eerily silent and his own cat lay belly up and paws curled soft under the Viking's caressing hand, purring.
It was a broad and capable hand. Dirty, wrapped with fraying strips of linen, the nails bitten short. A thief's, a murderer's, an ungodly, pagan hand. Jared looked at it for a moment, afraid to look anywhere else, fear sharpening his sight and shivering through his belly. Then he thought of the book. Six years of Jared's life, dedicated to the glory of God's written word. Unmindful of the wet paint, Jared grabbed for it, protective, terrified, and the Viking grabbed it back.
Jared gasped. But the Viking didn't snatch the book and run. Instead, he smoothed the pages back open, thumbing the crumpled corner flat with gentle fingers, and eyes on Jared's, he blew softly at the gleaming wet paint of the sea. And growled. It was a quiet growl, more of a tsk tsk than a threat, but shame scalded through Jared's face at the sound. He should have known better. The paint was wet. He'd risked six years work, careless and afraid.
Pangur Ban and the Very Friendly Viking
Pairing: Jensen/Jared
Length: ~5500
Author on LJ:
tryfanstoneAuthor Website: jay tryfanstone’s fics
Why this must be read:
There are lots of reasons to read this. You get to see Jared as a shy monk, who cares more about the illuminated text he’s working on than his own safety. Then there's Jensen, who is, as the title suggests, a very friendly Viking who steals Jared away. And of course, there's Pangur Ban, Jared’s beloved cat. This is written so beautifully – I could easily see each and every scene. I adore the little details the author added; bits about how the colors used in the manuscript were created made the artist in me especially happy.
Originally from a blindfold_spn prompt, with the request of no non-con (and despite the premise, there’s no dubcon either), this is a sweet tale that will charm you and put a smile on your face.
Hand stilled, shoulders hunched, Jared froze. He could hear the sound of Pangur Ban, purring. He could smell salt, and sweat, and something rich and harsh beyond both he did not recognize.
He was being watched.
He looked up. Slowly, under his eyelashes.
From the other side of the desk, a Viking grinned back at him.
Shock drove Jared to his feet, knocked his thighs off the desk and flung him willy-nilly hard back down. The brush dropped, the pigment scattered, he couldn't breathe for the fear stopped in his throat, and silent and wicked as any painted devil, the Viking watched back with amused, intimate eyes.
If the alarm bell had rung, Jared hadn't heard. If Pangur Ban had hissed, he'd ignored her. Instead, the monastery was eerily silent and his own cat lay belly up and paws curled soft under the Viking's caressing hand, purring.
It was a broad and capable hand. Dirty, wrapped with fraying strips of linen, the nails bitten short. A thief's, a murderer's, an ungodly, pagan hand. Jared looked at it for a moment, afraid to look anywhere else, fear sharpening his sight and shivering through his belly. Then he thought of the book. Six years of Jared's life, dedicated to the glory of God's written word. Unmindful of the wet paint, Jared grabbed for it, protective, terrified, and the Viking grabbed it back.
Jared gasped. But the Viking didn't snatch the book and run. Instead, he smoothed the pages back open, thumbing the crumpled corner flat with gentle fingers, and eyes on Jared's, he blew softly at the gleaming wet paint of the sea. And growled. It was a quiet growl, more of a tsk tsk than a threat, but shame scalded through Jared's face at the sound. He should have known better. The paint was wet. He'd risked six years work, careless and afraid.
Pangur Ban and the Very Friendly Viking
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