fancy meeting you here [farren]

[vanair cyam norrettln]

SHAKING OFF UNWANTED COMPANY

[/color][/u]
I need familiar eyes [/font][/color]
staring me down just one more time
------ ------ ------
[/center]

As he made his way down the halls of the royal court, Vanair could almost hear the dirt crushing under his shoes; he sure as hell felt it and it was not pleasant. He stopped for a minute to survey the damage he’d caused. It wasn’t as much as he’d expected, which was the white marble floors to be completely and utterly ruined. Instead, there was a thin trail of tan-brown dirt, with the occasional clump . Vanair smirked; it wasn’t his fault per say and he wouldn’t be in trouble as long as the cleaning crew didn’t spot him, which is why he made his way to his room swiftly.

Why was he all muddy, you ask? Well, that’s a funny story in itself, though not so funny for the Fey boy. Vanair was patrolling—again, even though he’d specifically told the night guard that he was not interested in patrolling this evening—like normal, hardly anything moved or caught his attention. Until, that is, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something slimy and gross heading out of the park. Upon further investigation, he realized it’d been a demon and he couldn’t just let it roam about, otherwise the Clave would be all over his Highness and he couldn’t let that happen. Not to mention, patrolling was a rather boring job and fighting provided a sure-fire way of entertainment, however short lived it was thanks to Vanair’s skills with a sword. At any rate, he’d taken care of the demon, which had succeeded in throwing him to the ground for a moment, explaining his muddy shoes and his muddy back. It also explained his bad mood because Vanair was not a boy who enjoyed getting thrown to the ground.

He unlocked his door and slipped inside, just before anyone could realize he’d come back and bother him. The first thing he did was shake the mud and dirt off of his pants, allowing him to sit on his bedside and take off the now wretched shoes. They fell to the floor with a more impressive thudding than usual, seeing as weight had been added thanks to that damn demon. He stripped himself of the blue sweater he’d been wearing on patrol, also letting fall to the floor in a thudding motion. He decided to take care of it all after he’d come out of his shower, but for now it would remain a pile of mud on his bedroom floor.

Skip ahead a few minutes and Vanny was as clean as his—well, as clean as his room normally was, anyhow. He shook out his orange-golden hair and wrapped a towel around his neck. He’d brought in a pair of dark brown skinny jeans and slipped them on, unlocking the bathroom door and thanking the fact that he’d brought in something with him to clothe himself. The reason? Immediately after he’d unlocked his bathroom door, he saw someone standing his bedroom, which honestly normally didn’t bother him, but it was her, his beloved fiancée Farren. He felt like putting on a scowl, but refrained himself and simply walked over to his dresser and pulled out a belt, seeing as his jeans hung on his hips left alone. As he hitched the point of the belt through the webbing, he asked “Is there a reason you’ve graced me with your presence? Or do you just have nothing better to do?”

[/b]
[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

------ ------ ------

Word Count: five seven three
Tags: Farren
Notes: ba-da-ba-ba-baaa, I’m lovin’ them <3 xD
Lyrics: Vandalism by Ghosty
Outfit: Chance Encounter

[/justify][/size][/center]

[pherenice xylia auvrelis]

THE SHUDDERS THE SHAKING OH NO NOT AGAIN THE FAINT AND THE FAKING
oh no, oh no, love, it’s not what you’re thinking

[/b][/i]
OH ALRIGHT LOVE HERE’S THE GOOD STUFF YOU CAN HAVE IT IF YOU WANT IT.[/font][/size][/size][/size]

.....[/center][/b]

Her heels clicked softly against the white marble floor as she maneuvered through the twisted, turning corridors, noticing idly that someone had unkindly left a trail of dirt in their wake. The chill from being underground, away from the blazing summer heat of the city, raised goosebumps along Farren’s arms, and she thought about turning around and heading back to her own room, where downy pillows, fuzzy slippers and warm, heavy blankets awaited her to return for her night’s sleep. But no. She hadn’t seen Vanair in ages- okay, gaining on a week- and he was the love of her life. Supposedly, anyways. Staying away from him that long would look suspicious, and if Her Highness caught wind of how easily she was bearing their separation, she’d probably realize that her plan wasn’t working accordingly and mend the holes until it was foolproof. That would make it rather difficult to weasel out of when the time came, and Farren really didn’t want to think about what it would be like to sit on the throne, suddenly in control of the entire Court. That’s why the blonde made sure that the guards on patrol caught sight of her as she headed toward his room- there was nothing else for her this way, and they knew it- and made sure to shoot them a shy smile, like she was embarrassed to be caught sneaking off to visit her beloved.

Slipping into his room was rather easy, and she felt her lips quirk into an amused smile as it became apparent that he’d been the one trailing dirt through the spotless halls. His clothes were piled on the floor in a dusty, muddy heap, and she distinctly heard the sound of the shower running. She was just on her way over to investigate the belongings on his shelves when the faucet suddenly went silent. Deciding it was best not to get caught snooping when he already felt uneasy toward her, she stayed put. The door swung open, and Vanny looked at her like he was very displeased to see her. And aw. He was wearing clothes. At least, he was wearing pants. Farren frowned ever so slightly for a fraction of a second. She’d been looking forward to seeing him without all of his bothersome layers, the way most women got to see their fiancés nowadays. But stubborn, mulish Vanair simply refused to acknowledge that this was a different era, one where premarital sex was more common than its counterpart. She resisted the urge to huff at his streak of fortune, and momentarily contemplated waltzing over and stopping him from fastening his belt.

“What?”

[/b] she asked, manipulating her voice so that it held a confused, injured lilt, pretending not to know why Vanny sounded on edge. She knew perfectly well why he sounded displeased to see her; he thought there was a reason that’d she’d come to see him, and he wasn’t in the mood to wait for her to get around to mentioning it. It was a shame for him that she’d just stopped by because she was lonely. Yes, she was aware that she shouldn’t feel lonely. She was surrounded by people throughout the duration of her day, almost from the moment she woke up until she settled down to fall asleep for the night. And yet here she was, lonesome and longing companionship. That’s what Vanny was for, right? Companionship? Marriage, eventually? Feelings and romance and sex and children and a whole tangle of roots to keep her firmly rooted here in the Seelie Court? She paused, considering absently what their children would look like if they ever did have children- factoring that they didn’t succumb to frustration and kill each other first. They’d probably cute, with her silver wings and golden eyes, his pale skin and blue hair. Strawberry blondes with soft milky skin, lanky bodies and hazel eyes if she was thinking in terms of their glamoured appearances. Darlings.

Fare ambled closer, invading his bubble of personal space and placing her hands low on his stomach, the bottoms of her palms brushing against his hip bones. He was hers, technically; she should be allowed to do with him as she liked without worry of a reprimand. “Am I not allowed entrance into my fiancé’s room whenever I please?”[/b] she asked quietly, stripping off the hurt façade and letting her eyes narrow slightly in a challenge. She rolled up onto her toes, making her height more even to his, and pressed her rose petal lips against the corner of his mouth, fighting the urge to smirk. She curled her fingers, digging her nails softly into his skin. She was aiming for discomfort, not pain. Not yet. “’Evening, Vanny.”[/b] the blonde murmured against his skin.
[/justify][/size]

.....

tagged : vanair.
words : seven nine six.
lyrics : “finishing school” by dashboard confessional.
outfit : thorns and spikes with hair like in the graphics.
notes : i don’t really imagine fey viewing people as people. hence farren claiming van as hers like an object.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[vanair cyam norrettln]

SHAKING OFF UNWANTED COMPANY

[/color][/u]
I need familiar eyes [/font][/color]
staring me down just one more time
------ ------ ------
[/center]

“What?” she asked in such a voice that had it been any other woman but her, Vanair would have regretted his choice of tone. But he knew better. He’d tried being nice and court her in the correct manner, but it simply didn’t work for either of them. He knew her better than this, knew she was adjusting her voice according to how she wanted it to sound, not allowing it to freely come from her lips like music from a harp. There was a difference between a sweet lie and a manipulation. They Fey knew this well. He looked at her as she spoke and noticed a change from her normal persona. She seemed like she earnestly chose to come here—though it could be argued that it was entirely to be in the Queen’s good graces. This was yet another reason why they were not compatible, no matter how much royal blood may flow through her veins and no matter how valiant of knight he was: she was simply not loyal to his Queen. How could he possibly marry someone who didn’t support the same regency? Her Highness saw hope in this arrangement and it was only for her eyes to see did Vanair play her little games, to make her happy with him, to get a better chance of serving right beside her, as apposed to Meliorn. He wouldn’t last long, he’d choke, and Vanair was rather pleased with the image that came to his head.

By the time he’d finished fiddling with his belt—why did mundanes wear these, exactly? They were so bothersome. Leather pants wouldn’t have this problem—she’d crept closer, yes that was a good way to describe her; crept: with hidden intentions, to waltz upon prey as a means of gaining something worthwhile. She was too close for his personal enjoyment; he’d grown used to it enough to be comfortable with it. Fare changed this quickly, as she placed her palms upon his bare skin, just above his hips. He looked down on her, not with leer, but because he was taller than she, urging her to get to the point, to speak rather than answer him with questions. He remained stubborn, unmoving, though he couldn’t deny that this was rather…how shall he say? Trying. “My lady is always welcomed-,”

[/b] he said carefully, again noticing a change from her usual self. This time, she chose to be more direct: with her eyes narrowed and her toes curling so she could reach his height. The latter part made him crack a bemused smile. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly lie by telling her “no, you’re not allowed, now get out” however much he wanted to and however much he had the right, considering he was only half dressed and in no way presentable. “-but I’d prefer if you consulted with me—”[/b]

Then she’d finally reached him and pressed her lips against the corner of his mouth. Her lips felt like delicate flowers; sweet, and easily broken. Maybe this was why he chose not to argue about the whole arrangement, because there was something inside of her that, if exploited, could break her like a mirror. And best of all, she only showed this side to him. It was his little secret and Vanair rather liked the idea of secrets. That didn’t make the current situation any less uncomfortable for Vanair, but he knew her game and he kept his physical reactions to a minimum. She wouldn’t get what she wanted; she wasn’t the only one who knew how to play games. So delicately, he pulled her by the waist closer to him, allowing his hand to stay poised on her hip and the other to come up and brush her cheek softly. A flutter of a kiss was placed on the other cheek and he brought his lips to her ear, murmuring. “Why have you really come to me, Pherenice? Surely, you’re not seeking my attention? You can’t be that desperate.”[/b]

And to better his chances of receiving a straightforward answer, he took his hands from their previous locations and raised them to rub her arms, up and down tauntingly, pressing his cheek against hers tenderly. “Or am I to assume you’ve simply run out of options?”[/b] he asked coolly.

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

------ ------ ------

Word Count: seven two one
Tags: Farren
Notes: I imagine the same, like how Vanair is only
behaving for the chance to break her.
Lyrics: Vandalism by Ghosty
Outfit: Chance Encounter

[/justify][/size][/center]

[pherenice xylia auvrelis]

THE SHUDDERS THE SHAKING OH NO NOT AGAIN THE FAINT AND THE FAKING
oh no, oh no, love, it’s not what you’re thinking

[/b][/i]
OH ALRIGHT LOVE HERE’S THE GOOD STUFF YOU CAN HAVE IT IF YOU WANT IT.[/font][/size][/size][/size]

.....[/center][/b]

Pherenice. She made a face at her name, her nose scrunching like she’d just smelled something dreadful and her eyebrows knitting together and forming a frustrated little crease on her forehead. She disliked her name, both because it was so long and because of what it meant. Heavenly blue flower. There was nothing blue about her; no blue eyes, no blue skin, no blue hair, no blue wings. Absolutely nothing blue about her, except currently her dress, but that wasn’t a permanent feature. Her parents naming her heavenly blue flower seemed like some sort of wishful thinking, like they’d hoped she’d turn out blue. She hadn’t, and every time she heard her full name she wondered if she’d disappointed them in some way. Ugh. Too many emotions, muddling up inside her mind and making it difficult for her to think straight. Or maybe she was having difficulty thinking because of the way Vanair was rubbing his hands over her arms, mocking her with his affectionate actions, exploiting her fragility. Oh yes, she knew she was fragile. She knew that he knew she was fragile, because she’d shown him that side of her way back at the beginning of their relationship, back when she actually tried to make it work. They could work together, if they really tried. Somewhere deep down Fare knew that if she obliged by the rules, both Her Highness’s and Van’s, then she and Vanny could work together as a couple. But her hatred of rules far outweighed her attraction to him, and her unwillingness to even attempt to conform could never meld with his eagerness to follow orders.

“Surely, you’re not seeking my attention?” He was distracting her with his hands, pressing them against her hips, and the small of her back, against her cheeks. His lips brushed against her cheek, and his breath flooded over the sensitive skin on her neck. He was being so unfair. It was so gorgeous. “‘Attention’ wouldn’t be my word of choice.”

[/b] Dipping her head to nestle her face in the crook of his neck, Farren closed her eyes. “I really did just come to see you, Vanair,”[/b] she admitted, hating herself for her honesty. She would have added that she’d missed him, but that wasn’t true, and all fey were forbidden to tell lies. Such a nasty little catch in their lives.

Farren pulled away from the male, stepping out of his reach and freeing herself from the trap he’d ensnared her in, the hypnosis he could lull her into. He knew that she was vulnerable, especially around him, because she felt she could trust him. No. No, she couldn’t trust him; that wasn’t it. She felt guilty that the Queen had thrown him into this twisted little plan of hers to preen Fare as next in line for the throne, and also comfortable around him because they were in such a similar predicament. They didn’t love each other, yet here they were, both stuck pretending. Both trying to build on feelings that were nothing more than mutual attraction. At least, the blonde thought the attraction was mutual. He hadn’t been able to straight out tell her that she was unwelcome in his room, which meant that he didn’t mind her being there, which had to stem from somewhere. It certainly wasn’t her sunny disposition and how nicely she treated him.

She crossed her arms across her chest, a barrier between him and herself. If he wanted to know why she was here, fine. “Plus, Her Highness would’ve started to get suspicious if we stayed apart for too long, my darling Vanair.”[/b] She turned on her heel, sauntering over to perch on the edge of his bed before turning her gaze back to meet his. “Look, just because this arrangement displeases you doesn’t mean that absolutely everything I do involving you has an ulterior motive. This meeting just happens to be one of the things having one. I’m not heartless, after all. Just sadistic and cruel. Just like you.”[/b]
[/justify][/size]

.....

tagged : vanair.
words : six nine six.
lyrics : “finishing school” by dashboard confessional.
outfit : thorns and spikes with hair like in the graphics.
notes : gotta add to the drama, right? what’s more dramatic than if she actually kinda likes him a little?

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[vanair cyam norrettln]

SHAKING OFF UNWANTED COMPANY

[/color][/u]
I need familiar eyes [/font][/color]
staring me down just one more time
------ ------ ------
[/center]

He smiled crookedly to her squirming, to her inability to sit still from his touch. If this arrangement meant nothing to her, then she certainly wasn’t proving it. In fact, at this point, he’d begun to become quite confused in all honesty. She used to be so easy to read, easy to predict her every movement, but nowadays he didn’t know what to expect and he was constantly forced to stay on his guard. This relationship meant nothing to Vanair, at least now it didn’t. There might have been a time when he’d earnestly loved her, or at least tried, but she’d made it clear to him that this was simply just to please Her Highness. He didn’t argue against this. He remembered wondering if all marriages were simply built upon mutual agreements and unwanted interactions.

“Wouldn’t it? What would you suggest then?”

[/b] he asked partially out of curiosity and partially just to continue this little game. All their games were small lately. They were mindless, never had a true purpose but to pass the time, if even that. At times, it was only to engage in some conversation since the two had hardly anything else in common. Farren enjoyed mundane life, enjoyed how it worked and progressed; Vanair did not. He was more interested in their emotions and namely, what he could to tear them apart. She was spring, he winter. They were simply not the right fit and yet everyone congratulated him on a beautiful relationship. He wondered if she was given the same compliments and if she was what she did to ignore them, because he was sure she didn’t embrace them. He didn’t. Neither of them had to think much anymore to fool the other, to make them uncomfortable or leave them speechless, which was what Farren did for a moment. Left him with nothing to say. “I really did just come to see you, Vanair,” she’d said and he had no choice but to believe her because even though she was a manipulator, she could not lie. She’d finally found a position that was comfortable for her, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Why was she being so affectionate? She would have normally ended this little game by now. “Then you must be terribly lonely,”[/b] he stated. She was surrounded by people around the clock—people she actually enjoyed speaking with. For her to come to him, this late in the evening…he couldn’t think of a different reason and he didn’t feel entitled to ask her for another.

She freed herself of his hold, finally showing him that she’d had enough. Vanair was very aware that she felt vulnerable around him and most of the time, he used this to his advantage, but tonight he let it slide. Instead, he turned around to find his dresser and he opened the first draw to pull out a tan sweater. The July heat outside was blocked by the Court’s entrance and Vanair was rather thankful for this; he hated the absolute heat. He’d rather curl up in something cozy, hence his long sleeves. He pulled it over his head and fitted it around the hem. He didn’t take his eyes off his fiancé, watching her as she adjusted herself on his bed, sitting on the edge of it as if she was waiting for him to say something specific. “Plus, Her Highness would’ve started to get suspicious if we stayed apart for too long…” Ah, he thought, as he’d figured. He shrugged. “She’s not at all suspicious,”[/b] he said, refraining from telling her that she’d actually been one of the people to compliment on their pairing and how well they seemed to be doing. He’d been visiting the Seelie Queen a lot recently, trying to help her figure out this war and to clear his head. It was also brownie points because Meliorn was busy with the Clave back in Idris. But all motives aside, he did like spending time with her. She was so wise and so graceful, unlike the last ruler had been and he had a right to say this because most of his life had been lived through it. He also refrained from telling her this.

“You seem to be telling me that a lot lately,”[/b] he said as he hitched himself to sit on his low-top dresser. “That this is just ‘one of the things having one’. I have yet to see your pure intentions.”[/b]

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

------ ------ ------

Word Count: seven four six
Tags: Farren
Notes: You know I love my drama ;]
Lyrics: Vandalism by Ghosty
Outfit: Chance Encounter

[/justify][/size][/center]

[pherenice xylia auvrelis]

THE SHUDDERS THE SHAKING OH NO NOT AGAIN THE FAINT AND THE FAKING
oh no, oh no, love, it’s not what you’re thinking

[/b][/i]
OH ALRIGHT LOVE HERE’S THE GOOD STUFF YOU CAN HAVE IT IF YOU WANT IT.[/font][/size][/size][/size]

.....[/center][/b]

What word could Farren plausibly use to describe what she sought from him, what she’d come here to acquire? Companionship? Togetherness? No, no neither of those were what she wanted from him. Intimacy? That was it. She’d come for his intimacy, not necessarily the affectionate part of it, because he was rarely forthcoming with any sort of physical affection toward her, unless it was being twisted and turned against her. But Vanair knew more about her than anyone outside of her family did, maybe more than most of her family if she was being truthful with herself. She didn’t have to pretend to be someone she wasn’t when she was alone with him, here in his room like she was now, and the complete honesty of being who she was instead of pretending to be who everyone wanted her to be was… relaxing. A relief. “Intimacy,”

[/b] the blonde replied simply, not elaborating as thoroughly as she had while mulling over the correct word choice in her pretty little head. Let him figure out what she meant.

She laughed, once, a bitter and sarcastic thing, when he decided that she must’ve been terribly lonely to come to him in search of company. “You’ve no idea.”[/b]

“She’s not at all suspicious,” Vanair said. She would’ve considered his words as an attempt to reassure her if she didn’t know him as well as she did. But she knew him better than most, what with their back and forth attempts at courting each other, neither of them ever on the same page at the same time. If they could just pause and realign their feelings, they could mesh as seamlessly as puzzle pieces in their correct spots. Opposites did tend to attract, after all. But no, she and Van weren’t quite opposites, just a tad shy of being so, and he wasn’t trying to reassure her, though that’s what he unintentionally did. He was simply stating a fact, simply for her information. It was her body that twisted the meaning behind his words into something that comforted her, that eased the kinks in her neck and the knots in her shoulders. Of course they were fooling everyone, the Queen included; they were never sour towards each other until they were alone, with no curious eyes around, even if those eyes happened to be mundane. “Of course she’s not,”[/b] Fare agreed softly. “We’re good actors.”[/b] Very, very good actors, they were indeed. They never argued, never squabbled in public. They put on their game faces and acted on their best behavior. They held hands. They sat close together whenever possible. They snuck glances. They acted like they were madly in love.

Her expression twitched into the slightest scowl as he professed to never having seen her ‘pure intentions,’ that she’d been telling and retelling him that this was just a thing with an ulterior motive. “What do you want me to say, Vanair?”[/b] she asked quietly, biting back the razors slipping into her voice as her gaze coolly met his across the distance of the room. She regretted moving away from him, regretted giving him the freedom to move away from her: the separation was so much harder to bear than the closeness. “This entire engagement was built upon an ulterior motive, and you expect me to sit here and tell you that if the circumstances were different, I’d still be here?”[/b] Fare stood slowly, smoothing out her dress habitually as she padded across the floor toward him, never tearing her gaze away from his. She stopped in front of him, close enough that she could touch him if she wanted to, but far enough away as to give him a second to grow accustomed to her being close to him again. Just with a cornered animal, no sudden movements; Farren did not feel like being lashed at today. “Maybe,”[/b] she admitted, carefully crossing the boundary into his personal space, “but we’ll never know, will we? This wasn’t our choice; it was our lovely Queen’s. And that’s why you’ve yet to see my intentions.”[/b] Her eyes narrowed, and she let her gaze slip out of focus, stripping away his glamour until she could see his antifreeze green eyes and his pale, cracked skin. It was easier to let her annoyance show when he wasn’t pretty. “What’s mine is buried deep, deep down underneath all of hers, and you’re too consumed with the topcoat to bother looking past it to see that this snafu wasn’t my choice.”[/b]
[/justify][/size]

.....

tagged : vanair.
words : seven five one.
lyrics : “finishing school” by dashboard confessional.
outfit : thorns and spikes with hair like in the graphics.
notes : haha pandora. thank you for playing “fall for you”, as it almost describes this situation, except it doesn’t. not at all.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[vanair cyam norrettln]

SHAKING OFF UNWANTED COMPANY

[/color][/u]
I need familiar eyes [/font][/color]
staring me down just one more time
------ ------ ------
[/center]

“Intimacy,” she’d said and Vanair mentally asked himself what else he was expecting from her. She was not being affectionate, he finally realized, just up close and personal. Close to him in a way that others were no longer permitted to be. She felt him as hers, an object at her disposal, to do with him whatever she pleased and though Vanair allowed this to happen at times, though he nearly felt the same as her, a once dead part of him wished there would be something more than feigned closeness. Even if they detested one another and acted physical based on hidden desires, even if they used each other for no other means, it would better than it was now, better than the teases and the lack of progress. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so torturous then.

She was lonely, Vanair could relate. There’d been another girl once, a real love that caught his unkind eyes. She’d been beautiful and she was living in this very Court, working as an apothecary, the type that could kill you and leave nothing behind. He’d known her since they were younger, but never felt the way he did until years ago, before this whole arranged marriage was even thought of. He’d contemplated on telling her how he felt, contemplated on breaking the ice that was formed by their friendship, but had decided not to. He was glad he hadn’t; admitting your feelings and then getting into a marriage…it wouldn’t have been very credible for him and it would have broken her heart and as cruel as Vanair may be, he would never intentionally bring himself to weigh the girl’s heart like he did a mundane’s. No matter how much pretending there was, no matter how far they would go for the on-seeing eyes, he still felt something for the girl, still felt that he’d betrayed her and betrayal never sat comfortably with Vanair. But he’d been forced to choose and he chose his Queen; he’d always choose her. It was the smartest thing to do and being logical was just something a Fey did naturally. So could he be blamed?

Farren explained that there was no way for the Queen to be suspicious of them and he nearly felt like laughing, but kept it all in his head. They were acting like they were forming a coup d’etat, which was impossible given his position. She was correct when she stated that they were wonderful actors. He made to sure to always inquire about her well being, though he didn’t always visit her. Of course there’d been the glances at meetings, holding hands down the hallway when they were together, and of course the fact that they never acted like they were now in public. They’d never disagree, never raise their voices, never argue. They acted like the perfect couple. Like a Barbie and a Ken and he only knew what these two acted like because he’d found their dolls for a little girl last week who’d gotten separated from her mother and while they searched, she went into excruciating detail about the ideal couple. It amazed Vanair that an eight year knew much more about relationships than he did. He found he had nothing to say to this; his silence an implication that he understood and that he could not argue with her given statement. He readjusted his sitting position on the dresser, changing from his legs dangling over to an Indian style. He leaned his back against the wall, all this thinking making it harder for him to support himself.

“What do you want me to say, Vanair? …and you expect me to sit here and tell you that if the circumstances were different, I’d still be here?” He looked up at her. What did he expect her to say to that? He regretted saying it aloud; perhaps it was better left a thought. He heard a ruffling sound and looked to notice she’d sat up and patted down her dress. She may not act like much of a princess when she was herself, but she still had the mannerisms of one. She drew closer, which Van was not expecting, seeing as her previous tone had reflected that she wished to stay right where she was. Farren drew ever closer, this time coming so close that they were nearly touching and he felt trapped against the wall. “Her Highness wants what’s best for her people,”

[/b] said Vanair to her subtle remark about this being her fault. “Serving comes with sacrifice. I’ve known this all along. It wasn’t my choice either, Pherenice-” [/b]he said and noticed her slight scowl when he said her full name. He knew she didn’t like it, but he’d never felt entitled to call her anything else. Besides, if she was going to show him how annoyed she was, then he had the right to return it. “-I had a life before you and let’s be honest, you had one before me.”[/b]

He exhaled a patient breath and leaned his head against the wall, bringing his hand to rake through his hair. This is not what he had in mind when he came home from fighting. Maybe he should have let the thing smack him around a little more…

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

------ ------ ------

Word Count: don't hate me eight eighty xP
Tags: Farren
Notes: I was listening to a song called "Hello Beautiful"
and it made me feel sorry for Vanny hahaaa.
Lyrics: Vandalism by Ghosty
Outfit: Chance Encounter

[/justify][/size][/center]

[pherenice xylia auvrelis]

THE SHUDDERS THE SHAKING OH NO NOT AGAIN THE FAINT AND THE FAKING
oh no, oh no, love, it’s not what you’re thinking

[/b][/i]
OH ALRIGHT LOVE HERE’S THE GOOD STUFF YOU CAN HAVE IT IF YOU WANT IT.[/font][/size][/size][/size]

.....[/center][/b]

A flicker of guilt fluttered around like a caged bird in her chest when she noticed the discomfort written plainly on his face. She was making him uncomfortable by invading his personal space, and she almost felt bad about it. Almost. This entire situation, their engagement, her royal status, made her uncomfortable- and frustrated, and confused, and claustrophobic - so why shouldn’t she be allowed to make him feel the same way she did? Didn’t she have a right to make him feel as trapped and helpless as she let herself feel late, late at night when only he was around to see this pathetic, silly, vulnerable, weak side of her? She leaned in even closer, full out disregarding his personal space to rest her elbows neatly on his left calf after he’d shifted around to sit Indian style, propping her chin up in her palms as she looked up at him. This was probably why he scowled whenever he saw her in private, hidden out of sight from the Queen and her associates’ watchful eyes, why he was never thrilled to see her. Ever since the cultivation of their engagement, she’d spent the majority of their time together trying to push his buttons, trying to get him to call it all off so she could be free of all the hooks and obligations the Queen was trying to ensnare her in.

Fare couldn’t blame him for not returning her affections now that she was expressing them. She’d thrown his back in his face way back when, and now he had every right to spurn her as she’d done to him. That didn’t mean she had to like it, though.

Vanny talked about the Queen, and Farren resisted the urge to either sigh or roll her eyes. Neither would help her current situation, as loyal and dedicated to her as he was. “Tell me, Vanair,”

[/b] she murmured, lifting her head out of her hands and straightening, coming as close to eyelevel as she could get with him. She shifted her hands so they rested on either side of his torso, palms flat against the wall he was leaning against. Again with the invasion of his personal space. If she kept that up, she’d be forced to admit to herself that she enjoyed being close to him. “do you really think that I’m what’s best for this Court? Because if Her Highness wants me to lead her people in her absence, then clearly she thinks I’m the best possible candidate. But what about you? What do you think?”[/b] The blonde managed to keep her voice even, cool and sharp like the edge of a blade. Her golden eyes narrowed triumphantly, her lips quirking into a smirk. Since he wasn’t allowed to lie, she’d get to hear exactly what he thought of her.

He ruined her victorious streak by reminding her that they’d both had lives before this unfortunate engagement. She frowned, starting to push herself away from him, her fingertips the only thing touching the wall. No, she decided. Putting distance between the two of them would be a sign of her discomfort with his words, a sign of how unfair she found them to be. “No, Vanny,”[/b] she said slowly, retracting a hand from the wall and placing it on his side, close to his hip. “You seem to forget how young I was when Her Highness threw us into this engagement. You really think I had enough time to have a life, pressed under her thumb as I’ve been since the change in power?”[/b] Her fingers crept under his sweater, grazing gently against his skin. Skin that only she was allowed to see, skin that he always hid with pesky clothing. “You’re the only one I’ve ever had the pleasure of loving, and I don’t even love you. Not really. Not the way you’re implying.”[/b] She pressed her lips into a tight line, averting her gaze from him. It would’ve been the perfect moment to storm away, to leave him in the heat of her rage. But she couldn’t give him that satisfaction, couldn’t let him win this game so easily. She wasn’t a pawn he could easily take.
[/justify][/size]

.....

tagged : vanair.
words : seven oh zero.
lyrics : “finishing school” by dashboard confessional.
outfit : thorns and spikes with hair like in the graphics.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[vanair cyam norrettln]

SHAKING OFF UNWANTED COMPANY

[/color][/u]
I need familiar eyes [/font][/color]
staring me down just one more time
------ ------ ------
[/center]

She leaned ever closer to him, something he wasn’t particularly fond of. Vanair resisted the urge to gently push her away, to gain his little bubble of personal space back. No, he couldn’t do that, because they were still playing their games and he being physical was probably what she wanted, or in the very least expecting. So instead of pushing her away, he leaned his head against the wall, ignoring all eye contact, ignoring her gestures. He took another breath and only looked down at her when he felt a weight at his calf. She’d positioned herself quite comfortably there, looking up at him intently, watching his movements, no doubt. He gazed at her steadily, not clearly able to read the expression on her face. There was a side to her that she only showed him, they both knew this; but Vanair began to wonder if there was ever a side to himself that he only showed her. He didn’t doubt so; she always had him on edge, on guard. He was more talkative around her, more playful with his words rather than his actions. In all honesty, it annoyed him that she could make him speak, nearly—though maybe not by her choice—forcing him to. He always felt a need to establish something, the need to clarify. He’d been taught to be wary of what he said around important ears.

Farren adjusted herself again, her hands on either side of his torso and making him feel more like a trapped animal than usual. What she failed to realize is that a trapped animal tended to be more prone to lashing out and though he consciously was preventing this, his inner mind was tearing her apart. It was almost like she wanted to be this close to him. Well he certainly didn’t want to be this close to her, not when he’d come home to be alone. His inner mood considerably changed when she asked him a rather important question. His steadiness did not fade from his eyes as he took a moment to think of his answer. “No,” he scolded himself, “what’s the point in trying to work around this? What angle could I possibly work from?”

[/i] There was none, he came to realize. She’d asked him a very straightforward question. Well played, Farren. Well played indeed.

“I believe that with proper experience and discipline, you could lead our people. You’re a strong woman. It’s in your blood to lead,”[/b] he said and watched her for her expression. It was what he truly believed. Perhaps he didn’t agree with her leading their people, but that didn’t take away from her potential. He knew she was able; she’d been bred to be able.

“No, Vanny,” she said as she slowly brought her hand to rest near his hip. He made a slight face at his nickname, thinking it not to do him any justice. She went on to explain that she was very young when this was arranged, claiming him to forget. He hadn’t forgotten, in fact her youth was precisely his point. It surprised him that he had to explain himself, but maybe he just hadn’t been very clear. It was hard to concentrate when someone was constantly…touching you. “A life hardly lived is the best kind of life,”[/b] he said gently and as kindly as his words, he removed her hand from his side, which had crept up to feel his cold skin underneath. A perk of his unglamoured side, the cold skin.

To be young, if only it were possible to reverse time. It would be a period he would visit often, in a time of young ecstasy and naïve living. Though he couldn’t deny that he liked his life now, but he didn’t love it. No, he couldn’t truly love anything, he realized; he just wasn’t the type of person to devote himself to something easily.

He didn’t think she realized it, but she’d left him an opening. “Then answer me this: in what way do you love me? If you would even consider it love at all. Love is not something that can be thrown around, yet it is not something we can truly feel. Quite a conundrum, isn’t it?”[/b] He chuckled tiredly and absently looked at the pile of mud on his bedroom floor.
[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

------ ------ ------

Word Count: seven three two
Tags: Farren
Notes: n/a
Lyrics: Vandalism by Ghosty
Outfit: Chance Encounter

[/justify][/size][/center]

[pherenice xylia auvrelis]

THE SHUDDERS THE SHAKING OH NO NOT AGAIN THE FAINT AND THE FAKING
oh no, oh no, love, it’s not what you’re thinking

[/b][/i]
OH ALRIGHT LOVE HERE’S THE GOOD STUFF YOU CAN HAVE IT IF YOU WANT IT.[/font][/size][/size][/size]

.....[/center][/b]

“I believe that with proper experience and discipline, you could lead our people. You’re a strong woman. It’s in your blood to lead,” That was not the answer she’d been waiting for; it almost caught her off guard. But Fare had considered all of the possible responses he could give when she asked what he thought of her being next in line for the throne. That he felt she could be a decent queen had passed through her mind, so it wasn’t a hit from left field. Nonetheless, she frowned at him. She would have preferred to discover that he believed she’d be a rubbish queen, because it would have taken a lot less effort to play mind games with someone who didn’t notice all of the hidden potential spawned from her lineage and breeding. It was much easier to toy with someone who didn’t believe that she could fulfill the duties that she’d been fighting to learn and uphold for as long as she could remember.

And then, as if pointing out her good qualities wasn’t ghastly enough, he had the audacity to gently inform her that a naïve, hardly explored life was the best type. Vanair removed her hand from his side, almost sweetly, and Farren hated him for a split nanosecond. Hated him for being able to catch her so off guard with his kind words and soft gestures. She placed her hands gracefully on the edge of the dresser he’d perched himself atop, stubbornly refusing to turn around and stalk away from him in a huff like she so desperately wanted to. By doing that, he’d win. He’d have his personal space back, and he’d have learned that gentleness was a new and rather effective way to fuck with her mind. And as much as she disliked looking at his soft, distracted expression, she disliked losing even more. “The last time my life was ‘hardly lived’-”

[/b] She mocked his tone, speaking softly and warmly, as she would to someone she was fond of. She definitely was not very fond of Vanair at the moment. “-I was still an infant. I barely recall anything before the bloody revolution, Vanny. And I’m certain that you’re aware of how my life has been ever since.”[/b] Since the uprising, Her Highness hadn’t taken her eyes off of headstrong little Pherenice Auvrelis; Fare knew her parents were compliant with the Queen, groveling at her feet to save themselves from the fate that her grandfather had suffered. They had no fire in their hearts, nothing more than pesky little embers fueling their sense of self preservation. Fare never groveled. The flames eating at her insides, hotter than the sun that melted all of winter’s ice and frost in the spring, whenever she saw the Queen wouldn’t let her. She’d never fully pledged her allegiance to the new Seelie Queen. For that, the Queen was keeping her friends close and her enemy closer.

And Farren was public enemy number one, in Her Highness’s book.

Vanair’s words, soft but as sharp as needles pricking against her skin, directed the blonde’s attention back to him. “Then answer me this: in what way do you love me?” Her eyes widened fractionally, the only physical sign of her sudden horror at realizing that she’d left him an opening. And the damned knight had taken a stab at her, hitting his mark and splattering her guts figuratively out on the dirty floor. She huffed, her lips pressed together in a tight line as she contemplated how to best untangle herself from this nest of thorns that he’d thrown her into. There was no way she could escape untouched, but surely there was a way she could wiggle out without tearing too much flesh? Slowly, looking over his shoulder at the wall to avoid seeing his expression, she said “The way one stupidly loves something unobtainable.”[/b] Fare chose the words as she spoke them, realizing how very true they were. When Vanair had tried to love her, she’d rejected his affections; now that he was no longer interested in her, she’d fickly decided that she wanted him to love her again, because maybe now she could love him back. But if he ever did manage to love her back, she had a feeling that she’d no long be interested in him romantically. They were two gears in the Court’s mechanisms, and their notches were never going to match up perfectly to allow for smooth operation, because she only loved him when there wasn’t the risk that he could return her feelings.
[/justify][/size]

.....

tagged : vanair.
words : seven six two.
lyrics : “finishing school” by dashboard confessional.
outfit : thorns and spikes with hair like in the graphics.
notes : poor farren. i really want to make her kiss him again, because she’s frustrated and upset and that would make him equally uncomfortable.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[vanair cyam norrettln]

SHAKING OFF UNWANTED COMPANY

[/color][/u]
I need familiar eyes [/font][/color]
staring me down just one more time
------ ------ ------
[/center]

She looked slightly off balanced, almost unsure of herself or her emotions. Vanair liked to see this side of her, liked to see her uncoordinated with herself. It was yet another side she only showed in his company, other than being weak and vulnerable. It got him thinking as to why she allowed herself to fall apart in front of him. Surely, he was the one individual she despised most of all? She’d been forced into this whole arranged marriage, young and caught like a fly in the Queen’s web. All her emotional frustration should have been lashing out at him, if not physical, but here she was, trying her best to compose herself and nearly failing. He began to wonder just how much she wanted to hit him at the moment and why she hadn’t done so yet. He would let her off the hook this once; this game was getting old quickly anyway.

“The last time my life was ‘hardly lived’-” she began in a mocking voice to his unusually kind one. He hadn’t meant mockery; he’d meant to be sincere. But he supposed she should expect nothing less from him currently. He’d given up on being sincere ever since she’d thrown his feelings back in his face, if they were true feelings at all. Maybe at one point they’d blossomed, but he thought himself to have an ulterior motive, thought himself to be trying in order to make the best of things. It’d been an honor to be called upon to marry royal blood and he’d wanted to embrace it, but a young and stubborn Pherenice had not wanted the same. Not, that this current situation was entirely her fault. No, Vanair would admit that he was to blame—perhaps mostly. He’d found no personal gain for marrying the girl and thus he became cold and calculating, using her simply as a means of daily entertainment than an object of his love and interest. “So you were different from most,”

[/b] he amended with a slight shrug of his shoulders, “but you’re still young. At least have something to look forward to. Trust me; it’ll help you get through all of this.” [/b] He remembered when he was young, when he had given himself something to look forward to and it had helped, tremendously, even through the revolution. Hell, he still had something to look forward to, but that would be considered treason nowadays…She was right, he knew very much of her life after the revolution. He’d been there to see it and still remembered her innocent little face and her parents’, petrified and desperate though he doubted Farren remembered this, seeing as she was but an infant, as she so kindly pointed out.

At last, he’d gotten a physical reaction from her; the widening of her eyes, the surprise that written all over her perfect, pretty little face. It brought light into Van’s eyes; perhaps the game wasn’t over yet. A smile formed on his lips as she took the time to think of her answer, imagining her in a maze she could not escape. He thought of every possible thing she could answer with, could hit him with. He’d expected her to say something along the lines of “the way a child loves a toy”, but no, he’d been instead hit with “The way one stupidly loves something unobtainable.” Huh, well he certainly wasn’t expecting her to be so open, but then again, a Fey could not lie. Damn perk…

Well she was right about Vanair being unobtainable to her. He’d given up on the princess and now his feelings for her were—why think it when he could screw with her? “I’m sorry to say that my feelings for you have withered and died,”[/b] he said simply, and yet he’d allowed himself to say “I’m sorry.” Well? Was he sorry? Maybe he really was; sorry for the missed chance, for the opportunity that would have eventually come, had both of them given the other a chance. Perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps instead of leaning on his dresser, he would have pinned her against the silk of his sheets. No matter. The opportunity had been missed and here they were, inches apart, but so distant from one another.

She was silent for a moment and Vanair took the chance to edge himself off of his dresser and back onto solid ground. As he passed, he placed a kiss on her cheek, light and hardly meaningful, soft like that of a butterfly kiss. He refrained from taking it a step further and running his hands through her blonde hair, instead stuffing his hands in his pockets and he walked back over to the muddy pile in the middle of his floor. He picked up the pile, noticed how not all of the dirt was mud, but some his own blood. He momentarily wondered where, exactly, he was bleeding and walked the pile into the bathroom, where a small hamper lay, already full of dirty clothes.

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

------ ------ ------

Word Count: eight four two
Tags: Farren
Notes: Go ahead xD Vanny already teased her
Lyrics: Vandalism by Ghosty
Outfit: Chance Encounter

[/justify][/size][/center]

[pherenice xylia auvrelis]

THE SHUDDERS THE SHAKING OH NO NOT AGAIN THE FAINT AND THE FAKING
oh no, oh no, love, it’s not what you’re thinking

[/b][/i]
OH ALRIGHT LOVE HERE’S THE GOOD STUFF YOU CAN HAVE IT IF YOU WANT IT.[/font][/size][/size][/size]

.....[/center][/b]

Have something to look forward to? Oh, Farren had something to look forward to, alright. For years, she’d been looking forward to the day that she could be free of all the Court’s rules and restrictions, all of the strings pulling her this way and that, twisting her arm and leading her where she didn’t want to go. She couldn’t wait for the day that she could escape the faerie world, could just leave and blend in with the mundane world, where they had their own politics and governing powers that she was in no way affiliated with. She’d never have to worry about pleasing anyone other than herself, maybe a few select friends or lovers. There’d be no such hassles of playing loyal little princess, going through her day trying to please anyone and everyone she came in contact with.

Everyone except Vanair.

He’d seen the real her; the tired, emotionally and sometimes sexually frustrated, unsure, unhappy her who was sick of where she was. Once he’d seen that side of her, what point was there in trying to hide it from him? That’s why she let him see this vulnerable side of her, again and again. She’d let it happen once, and keeping up the rouse after letting him tear it away, piece by piece, seemed pointless. A wasted effort. So Fare didn’t bother pretending around Vanny, and instead dealt with the blows he jabbed at her unarmored self. All of the poisoned kisses, and the acidic touches that ate at her skin, no matter how soft and loving they appeared to be to any passing onlooker. He kept her walking on eggshells, careful not to let herself succumb to too many of his faux affections.

He claimed that his feeling for her had died. She wanted to call him a liar. She actually opened her to do just that before remembering that fey could not lie, and calling him a liar would in essence be lying. Or fibbing. Or plain old not telling the facts straight. Ugh! What was he doing to her? She realized that she was always a little careless with her poker face when she was around Vanair, but this was utterly ridiculous! She’d gotten herself tangled in his web, hanging upside down, helpless to protect herself from him. It was so unlike her. She struggled to situate all of her rampaging emotions, lulling them back into submission for her to call on as she felt necessary, instead of them jumping to the forefront whenever they damn well felt like it.

“That’s not exactly true, Vanair.”

[/b] She turned to watch him as he walked away from her, having edged himself out from between her and the wall. She could have easily stopped him, but the falseness of his words had distracted her. The butterfly kiss he’d brushed against her cheek ate at her, scorching her flesh like his lips were made of iron. They certainly felt cold enough, now that he’d stripped away his glamour. The blonde couldn’t remember exactly when he’d peeled the magic away, transforming from a sexy strawberry blonde into a still perfectly attractive blue-haired, cold skinned fey knight. All of her years of training prevented her from fidgeting as she sauntered closer to him, though the instinct to fold her arms across her chest, or rake her fingers through her hair, or worry her lip prickled in the back of her mind. “Your feelings for me didn’t die-”[/b] Fare caught hold of his wrist, pushing herself into his personal space yet again. Sooner or later, he was going to start showing his discomfort with her closeness, and he would push her away. “-You still feel something for me, mostly dislike I assume, but your feelings never faded away. They simply shifted.”[/b]

Fare wrapped an arm around his neck, tangling her fingers in the fine hairs at its nape. She leaned forward and smoothed her lips over his, soft with a hint of a demand. The hand at his wrist moved up, gently pressing against his chest, feeling the coolness of his skin through the material of his sweater. Vanair would probably consider this a way to torment him, a way to get back for all of his biting acts of tenderness this evening. It wasn’t, not primarily anyways. For purely selfish reasons, the blonde needed him to kiss her back, even if it was only a way for him to inject her with more of his bitter venom. She needed to know whether or not she could delude herself with hope that maybe, someday, her fiancé’s feelings would shift back from their current loathing to something resembling love.
[/justify][/size]

.....

tagged : vanair.
words : seven seven eight.
lyrics : “finishing school” by dashboard confessional.
outfit : thorns and spikes with hair like in the graphics.
notes : “i don’t think i love you anymore” by hoobstank is their song. no question.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[vanair cyam norrettln]

SHAKING OFF UNWANTED COMPANY

[/color][/u]
I need familiar eyes [/font][/color]
staring me down just one more time
------ ------ ------
[/center]

He knew very well that she had “something to look forward to”; she’d told him about it numerous times. She looked forward to a day where she could be free from the Court’s restraints, free to do as she wished when she wished, like a true princess. She wanted away from the watchful eyes of the Queen and her supporters, away from the people who had done her family harm, away from people like Vanair. This brought on a sudden sadness inside the boy; not that he loved her, he’d just clarified that he did not love her. It was more along the lines of sadness a small boy would posses for losing his beloved pet. Yes, that was a good analogy: like losing a pet, losing a means of preoccupying himself. Once she left, there would be no way of finding her. She’d make sure of that. Though, Vanair highly doubted he’d want to find her. There were plenty of toys in the city; she wasn’t the only one.

Showing herself in front of him had meant that he’d had to cave and share his darkest self with her. It was a sacrifice worth taking, because it brought on moments like these. He’d had to show her a side of him no one else would ever be permitted to see; a side of him that could easily resemble a small child curling in a ball for comfort and protection. He still had one of those inside of him, you see; a child-like figure that was uncertain of its direction, of its desires. It was the reason Vanair wasted all his time toying with the mundanes, because of his uncertainty, as a way of covering the fact that he could never be sure of his emotions. He was self conscious in this way, so he studied the poor mundanes, tried to figure out when he should feel a certain emotion because as a Fey he could not learn on his own. He needed living, wiser company.

Which was why, perhaps, he’d grown accustomed to Pherenice’s company, because she was closest thing in this court that could resemble a human. Maybe he was deluding himself with the hope that she could calm his sadistic side. It never worked; in fact, if anything, she brought on a more sadistic side of him. What, exactly, was Van trying to hide? He didn’t know and it made him even more frustrated that he could not tell someone. His fruitless thoughts were interrupted. “That’s not exactly true, Vanair,” she’d said and he only internally winced at the fact that she could tell the truth so plainly and factually. She was looking at him steadily and Vanair recognized this as the look she gave him when she was peeling away his glamour inside of her mind. He didn’t like when she peeled away his glamour, didn’t like the fact that she could gaze so deeply into him like that.

When he’d come back into the room, she’d grabbed hold of his wrist, allowing herself back into his space. His patience being tried, he took a deep, uncomfortable breath, and let her continue her little game. “However you want to phrase it,”

[/b] he said, “it still means the same to me.”[/b]

She’d snaked her arms up around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He could feel the heat from her body, a sensation so different than his own. Delicate, rose lips smoothed themselves over his and he’d had it, quite frankly. This was the part in their little charade where one of them was either a, supposed to storm out or b, do something that would cause the other to storm out. She wanted love, he knew, wanted to see that he was capable of it, though maybe not necessarily towards her, he didn’t know. This was why he needed to show her that no; he could not purely love her. He could only muster the will to use her for his selfish desires.

He needed to torment her.

He kissed her back, slowly, passionately and brought his hands up to feel her arms. They changed positions quickly, however, as his goal was to make her feel uncomfortable for a change. One moved to poise on the material just above her hip and the other crept up the back of her dress to touch the exposed skin there. He pressed their bodies closer, and drew little circles on her back with a ghostly touch of his fingers. “Farren,”[/b] he whispered sweetly, though he grinned behind his kiss. He brought his hand up from her hip to the high waist of her dress and halted their kiss, waiting for her reaction.

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

------ ------ ------

Word Count: seven eight eight
Tags: Farren
Notes: -cries- I'm sorry Farren! </3
Lyrics: Vandalism by Ghosty
Outfit: Chance Encounter

[/justify][/size][/center]

[samuel eric clark]

COULDN’T RUSH ITSELF AND THINK ON COMMAND

[/font][/color]
Was often terribly bored and couldn’t wait [/font][/color]
passed up greeting the moments and prayed only with its lips[/font][/color][/center]

Sammy was never the type of boy who did things that were wished upon him. This was why he was currently out late at night when the Fey guards had specifically cautioned him to stay within the Court. Sam wasn’t stupid, even if he was a child, he knew better than to believe that those guards really cared about him. He knew they were only cautioning him in order to keep their jobs, so that they wouldn’t feel responsible if something were to happen to him. The fact that they didn’t physically stop him from leaving the Court proved this. With a small grin on his face, Sam thought about running into trouble on purpose, just to get those two idiots in trouble. All he would need was a scratch or two and getting them wouldn’t hurt so badly. If he ran through the park’s bushes long enough, he could get a few easily.

What brought him back to the Court was when a policeman decided to roam the park. They did this every once in awhile; patrolled here in case some group was meeting or something. Sam knew that if a policeman caught sight of him, he’d take him into his flashy car and bring him back to the orphanage. It didn’t help that he was a human and he couldn’t use…what was it called? A glamour? He believed that was the word. Honestly, he hadn’t been paying attention to his lesson today. Well, he didn’t want to go back to Hell, so as quickly as his little legs could carry him, he ran back to the Court and dove into the cool water.

When he’d come into the halls, the same two guards who told him not to go out there were waiting for him. They sighed, exchanged glances, and then they laughed and Sam grew offended. He figured they were laughing at his naivety. So in typical nine year old fashion, he stormed off, carrying a puddle of water from falling with him as he went to his room. He got there and changed quickly, him starting to feel the coolness that blocked out the New York City humidity. He changed into a pair of denim jeans and a plaid long sleeved shirt that had very stubborn buttons. He groaned and stomped his feet a couple of times before he finally got it, slipped it over his tiny frame, and then re-buttoned the collar. He kept on the necklace he’d been wearing—it was a necklace given to him by a very nice Fey lady who gave it to him so that the other fey would know he belonged here, apparently—and then slipped on his Vans, which were slightly muddy, but not enough to attract attention.

He looked around his room and saw the toys that were out and about, none of them calling for him to play with them. He sat on his floor for a few minutes, idly tracing patterns on the carpet and then, and only then, decided that he was bored. Well, there was always one way of curing Sam’s boredom and so with a smile he jumped up from the carpet and ran down the hall, receiving a few yells from other passing people.

At long last, he’d finally reached the door. Vanair’s bedroom door. He was quite proud of himself, considering that he usually didn’t even make it this far before Van would come walking down the hall and yell at him for being there. Yell wasn’t the right word, he…warned him away. Yeah, that was it. See, Sam knew Van only came to his bedroom when he planned on resting or having some time alone, but he just didn’t give a second thought about it. The door was already open on a crack, which told Sam the man was already in his room. He was about to knock and walk inside when he saw something he was not expecting. It even made the child blush a little.

In his hold was a woman he didn’t remember seeing, but by her physical traits and the brief description Van had given him, he knew she was his…significant other. He was kissing her very delicately, which threw Sam for a loop because he specifically remembered Van saying he didn’t like her. “Must be one complicated relationship,” Sam thought to himself. He pushed the door to close it more, about to let his “friend” have some privacy, but then Vanair stopped kissing the girl and looked at his bedroom door. Uh-oh. Busted.

He poked his head out from behind the door and offered a small, sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, Vanair,”

[/b] he said softly. “I didn’t think you were, um…[/b] he looked at the girl again and then back to Van, “busy.” [/b]


[/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote]

---

Word Count: eight zero three
Notes: That awkward moment when a kid walks in…xD
Tags: Van and Farren
Lyrics: Song of being a child by Van Morrison
Outfit: [url=http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=35856352
] Sammy-01

[/url]
[/right][/justify][/size]

[pherenice xylia auvrelis]

THE SHUDDERS THE SHAKING OH NO NOT AGAIN THE FAINT AND THE FAKING
oh no, oh no, love, it’s not what you’re thinking

[/b][/i]
OH ALRIGHT LOVE HERE’S THE GOOD STUFF YOU CAN HAVE IT IF YOU WANT IT.[/font][/size][/size][/size]

.....[/center][/b]

Caught off guard flitted through the princess’s mind as a possible means of describing how she felt when Vanair kissed her back. She had anticipated him to pull away, to throw her out of his room now that their games had lost their heat, simmering down around annoyance instead of fun and unexpected. But the term didn’t adequately describe how she felt, because he hadn’t really caught her off guard. She’d accounted for the possibility that he would do this: pull her close, press his lips more firmly against hers, explore her body with his hands, taunt her with his soft fingers. It ran parallel to what the reaction she’d expected from him, but since Fare had already considered the plausibility of this happening, it instead wound up being a pleasant surprise. Yes, he was trying to torment her, playing off of her physical attraction and her deep desire to be with him, physically and intimately. But when that was what she wanted, wasn’t giving it to her a silly way to torture her? Sure, when he pulled away, it would be unpleasant; until then, the blonde enjoyed his affections, even if the intent behind them fetched far from affectionate.

Vanny kissed her, his lips moving slowly against hers, enthusiasm with his task apparent. His hands brushed over her arms, quickly shifting to tug her hip closer with one hand, to pull her body against him by winding it around her back with the other. His soft fingertips ghosted over her bare shoulders, tracing mindless patterns on her warm skin. He was doing his damndest to turn this against her, to try and make his touch uncomfortable to her, but the strawberry blonde didn’t seem to comprehend that this is what she wanted from him: physical contact. Lots and lots of it, preferably without these pesky articles of clothing in the way. Intercourse was the only thing she could fathom a fiancé- whom she didn’t love or who, when she thought she might love him, didn’t love her back, who’d been forced on her- being useful for. But of course Her Highness had chosen one of the most old fashioned fey in the entire Court to be her one-day husband, and he adamantly insisted that he wasn’t going to take her virginity or give up his until after their marriage. Incredibly bothersome, since Farren didn’t actually intend to marry Vanair.

His kiss was proving to be too reserved for her, too PG. Pressing herself flush against the knight, Fare was absently aware of how flawlessly their bodies melded together: his hips just above hers, her breasts right below his collarbone, his face slanted down to press his lips against hers. The blonde pushed her tongue into his mouth, since she knew that a) she liked it when they made out and b) Van absolutely hated it, because it made him uncomfortable. And the entire point of their everlasting game was to seek pleasure from the other’s discomfort, was it not? Coaxing his tongue with her own, trying to convince him that it would be worth it while at the same time attempting to make his skin crawl, Farren curled her fingers against his skin, felt her nails dig in ever so slightly. If he thought about it, maybe he’d realize that by playing her game, getting her closer to what she wanted from him, and then pulling away would be a much better way to play with her emotions than his chaste little butterfly kisses. “Farren,” he mumbled, though it sounded muffled since he was technically talking into her mouth.

He didn’t sound pleased, which was good for her. She dropped her hands from around his neck, sliding them down to start lifting his shirt above his head. His cool skin was soft under the pads of her fingers. Van pulled back suddenly, and after the instinctual frown at the loss of contact, the princess smirked triumphantly up at him. She followed his gaze when he looked pointedly at the door, and her smirk faltered when she saw a child in the doorway, flushed and stuttering out an apology to Vanair. “I didn’t think you were, um… busy.” All of her training, lessons on how to behave in the public eye, came back to her, and Farren had the decency to blush as she untangled herself from the knight, her body unhappy with her from the loss of physical contact and her mind pissed off that she’d just lost this match of their game. “Funny,”

[/b] she said, smiling at Vanair as she smoothed her dress. Princess one oh one, always look presentable, and never let them see your surprise. “Vanair didn’t mention that he was having company over.”[/b] She smiled politely at the boy. “Who might you be?”[/b] she inquired.
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tagged : vanair & samuel.
words : eight zero oh.
lyrics : “finishing school” by dashboard confessional.
outfit : thorns and spikes with hair like in the graphics.
notes : <3

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