#...I am once again procrastinating a task | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scorpioriesling · 6 months ago

Text

Once Upon A Dream

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: Azriel x reader

Warnings: Suspense, angst, light swearing, slight abuse

Summary: As the daughter of a malevolent king on the Continent, you were used to spending time alone. Sure, you had tasks to complete, but not much free-will was given under your father’s harsh rule. This wouldn’t stop your quest for something more; but for every good thing, a price must be paid. Would you allow yourself to be convinced -- by a fae of all beings -- that you're destined for more than a life within the castle?

SR’s Note: Guys… this idea had me itchingggg to start writing it, but I just get very very very busy and I procrastinate tbh. Seriously, I'm putting my whole ･ﾟ: *pusss･ﾟ: * into this one -- jokes aside, I’m just excited to share this idea and illustrate how I was piecing it together in my brain. I’m so excited for you guys to read it — maybe listen to Once Upon A Dream (this version, specifically) while reading it? We all love a good Lana moment. <3 Enjoy, my darlings. I apoligize in advance for any editing mistakes!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"Good morning Mrs. Julie," you say kindly, voice as soft as the rays of sunlight streaming through the small windows.

"Oh, good morning, child!" The short, aging kitchen attendant clasps one of her worn hands in yours and offers you a warm smile, and you smile broadly back at her. "Always a delight to see you so early in the day," she continues, releasing your hand to turn her attention back to the mound of settling dough on the counter before her that is beginning to rest. "Say, what are you planning for today, hm?" She asks, picking the sticky, yeasty mound from the wooden board and expertly working it between her palms. It's as unbothered by her touch as she is by the hustle and bustle of other attendants working in preparation around her. "I hear the weather is to be kind today." She winks, and you consider.

"Well, I was planning to tend to the garden... again..." she gives you a knowing look, hearing no different any other morning.

"And I assume you will eat your breakfast and brush your hair too?" You narrow your eyes playfully at her, but can't help the grin tugging at your lips as a chuckle escapes her lips.

"Maybe I want to go for a more disheveled look today?" You say sassily, and she bumps her hip with yours. You loose a laugh.

"Go on, dear," She says.

"Well, I heard father was planning a meeting with Graysen of some sort, which means he won't be here..." You allude. Julie's brows raise, but she doesn't take her eyes off of the dough she is kneading.

"Oooooh, so you are thinking of forging plans while your father is away then, hmm?" She coos. You scoff, pushing off the counter you had braced upon to fold your arms across your chest.

"Julie! How could you accuse me of such a thing?" You throw her a playfully incredulous look, which she returns with a mischedious grin.

"Because, my dear," she picks the mass of dough up, tossing it into a nearby bowl with a heavy thwop. "You forget that I've known you for... well, let's see, twenty three years now?" She glances sidelong at you, and you drop your arms, gracing her with another soft smile.

"Which is precisely why you are absolutely right," you say, as she grabs a wet cloth and begins wiping the loose flour from the worktable. You find one on a table nearby, clutching it and working to help her clean up.

"Y/N, no no no, you'll only ruin your dress dear," she tuts. You roll your eyes, and she shakes her head, taking the rag from your hand.

"Just because I am technically a Princess, doesn't mean I can't or don't wan't to help," you say. She continues wiping, smiling gravely at you.

"I know dearie. If you didn't, you wouldn't come down here to say hello each morning." A sad smile takes over your lips, and just then, the clock chimes. Your head turns, and you notice that it is nine on the dot. You had better be getting to the dining room to meet your family.

"You'd better be going dear," Julie seems to echo your thoughts aloud. You nod, making way for the stairwell and muttering polite hellos to the other attendants as they pass.

"I'll see you later on Julie -- have a lovely day!" You call as you begin the climb. It only takes a few minutes to climb the few flights to the main floor of the castle from the service kitchen, but as you swing the heavy door open, your eyes are met with none other than your father's from the end of the long table.

He says nothing, he only seems to stare right through you as you swallow the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and pull the oak door closed. Graysen lifts his gaze from the table, eyes narrowing on you slightly as he shifts his eyes from you, to the clock handing from the wall, and then back to you again.

"You're late, sister," he says. You huff, squaring your shoulders and walking swiftly to your unassigned-assigned seat at the much-too-large dining table. You father takes a deep breath, and you stare sidelong at him, the cascading sunlight framing his stature like flames around an ember in a firepit.

Graysen continues to stare expectantly at you, and you fold your hands in your lap, tilting your chin as high as you can and let out a soft groan.

"Ughhh okay! I'm sorry I am a couple of minutes late, okay? I apologize. Can we just eat?" You ask, eyes dancing between your brother and father in question. Your father sighs, still not speaking as he reaches for the plate of crepes in the middle of the breakfast spread. You dejectedly look at Greysen, who only shrugs and flicks a few sausages onto his own plate. It isn't until a few moments of eating in silence that your father finally speaks.

"The meeting... today... Gray... we need to ask the Queens about the border and what we need to be doing about the, well, the problem were having. The slippage, rather." He says, eyes still downcast toward his plate. Graysen nods, seeming to know exactly what your father is speaking of.

"Mhm, sounds about right." He says through a mouthful of sausage. You furrow your brows. What are they talking even talking about? It isn't like they ever tell you anything -- to them, you're good for flittering around the palace and adding to the aesthetic of the place. They've never dared say it, but they don't need to; their actions say enough. You fear the woman your brother courts would only end up down the same path you're currently on, seeing how the last few have turned out anyway.

"I need you to take this seriously," Your father says. Graysen swallows, clearing his throat and wipes his mouth with his napkin. His eyes meet yours swiftly before boring into your father.

"Father... when have I ever not taken something like this seriously?" He asks. Your father shrugs, but continues to eat, his plate nearly clean. You glance at your clean plate, contemplating the right time to ask if you can leave the grounds. Your father barely ever allows for your free-will; and you doubt he'd let you go today. After a few more beats of silence, you decide what better time than now to ask?

Clearing your throat, you sit up staight in your chair. "Father, I wanted to-"

"You have flour on your dress, Y/N."

✧･ﾟ: *

The soft pattering of soles on marble sounds beneath your pacing feet for as you angrily step back and forth across your room. You've been in here since breakfast, and though its only been but an hour, you feel as though half the day has gone by. You were so sick and tired of your father never paying you any mind -- he never seemed to care what you thought, or what you had to say. It almost seemed like he believed you to not posess a brain in your head, the way he disreguarded his only daughter.

You're sure you've walked a ring into the floor by now, but when you look down, it looks as pristine as it did when you'd returned from breakfast of course. You huff, almost hoping for some sort of penalty for your father's actions.

Oh, he'd be getting a penalty, all right.

You had a good idea how the rest of this fine day would go; first, you'd trot through the gardens, as you always did to show your father you were keeping busy. Then, when he took your brother for whatever meeting they had, you'd venture as you pleased -- a punishable, hainous crime, truly -- and then, you'd return by sundown, as to not raise suspicion.

Plain and simple.

This plan was perfect enough, you'd decided as you ended your pacing tyrade and instead padded over to your expansive closet to choose a lighter, cleaner dress for... "gardening". Settling on a pale blue sundress that ended just above the knees and fit just right, you fastened your sandals and tied your hair with a bow. A once over in your full-length mirror painted the portrait of a princess, one your father would be proud of.

Or, one he would believe, anyway.

As you decended the grand staircase, you overheard your brother's voice from the foyer, and you halted, pressing your body against the railing. Leaning over ever so slightly, you strained to hear what he could be saying.

"No father, I'm not saying that," he sounded exasperated. "I'm just saying that if we have faeries coming over the wall, we are the closest thing to it, and the first thing we should probably be doing is checking any surrounding areas, rather than sending troops to the wall itself." He argues. You hear a huff, and you know its none other than your father.

"Right, but the Queens are saying that if we guard the wall, we stop this spillage of faeries into our land all together, then we wouldn't have anything to worry about to begin with," your father retorts. You furrow your brow. There he goes, using that word again. Spillage. They're speaking as though faeries are on the continent, on our lands? But, that wouldn't make any sense. What's the point?

"Why even come over the wall in the first place?" Graysen asks. Huh, you think to yourself. I was thinking the same thing. Maybe I am just as smart as your son, maybe it could be me going to these meetings, Father. You hear footsteps, and your breath hitches as you glimpse them striding for the front doors. If they so much as turned around, looked up...

"What do you think this meeting is for today, my boy?" Your father claps Graysen on the shoulder, and you decide to make your entrance. Stepping loudly down the stairs, both of their heads turn to face you, the ghost of a smile falling from your father's face when he sees you. Graysen only cocks an eyebrow.

"Going somewhere?" He asks hautily. You plaster the most sickenly-sweet smile on your face as you step onto the landing, and clasp both hands behind your back.

"Only the gardens," you say, meeting your brother's stare. "The hedges are quite overgrown, and the rosebushes need tending. Lot of work to do today." He only hmmphs, and your father's stone-cold stare doesn't falter.

"The change of attire is... appreciated." He says dryly. You nod, and he blinks. "We have a meeting to be off to. We should return after sundown. You'll do well on your own for the evening?" He asks without an ounce of actual concern.

"Of course, father." You say. He nods, turning to Graysen.

"We should be off then." And with that, he is opening the door and heading out with your brother. Out to some secret meeting that you can't and shouldn't know about for Gods knows why.

Out and away for you to finally enjoy some well-deserved freedom.

You watch as the last horse in the group attending with your father today is far enough from the palace that you cannot make out the shape anymore, and then practically book it to the back of the palace. Throwing open the back doors, prancing down the marble stairs to the gardens, you dance and twirl past every bush and weed and stone bench that you definitely will not be paying any mind to today -- well, honestly, these rose bushes are looking a little rough. You pull dead petals and bulbs off as you go, which only brightens the path as you make your way towards...

Wherever your feet carry you, you suppose.

Not before long, you've passed every rose bush. Every weed. Every overgrown hedge. You slow your steps as you skip past the last stone bench, realizing you truly are at the edge of the grounds, the large iron fence drawing nearer and nearer. It's rusty as you finally get in front of the latch, running your fingers along it. You still try your luck nonetheless, doubting it would be unlocked. You unclip the hook, pushing the heavy metal bars tainted coppery red with age and-

It opens.

You almost can't believe it.

You gasp, stepping through the small opening and looking beyond. All that is really out there is dense forest, and to be honest, you don't have much interest or experience in going out in a place like that. However, when you ponder, you really don't have much experience in anything, so would it really hurt to try something new? What was the worst that could happen -- you could see a bunny?

You take a deep breath, and then begin walking. The sun was high in the sky, and the tendrils of light falling delicately through the trees was... lovely. Peaceful. Out here, it felt so free, like you could do or be whatever you pleased without confinement.

Another twig snapped in the distance, and you whipped your head in the direction. You hated the way your heartbeat sped up, over a simple forrest creature. Shaking your head, you continued on, looking quickly over your shoulder at the palace that was growing smaller with each step you took.

It wasn't much longer before you decided to stop and rest for a bit, the walk tiring you out more than you'd thought. Your half-lidded eyes began to glaze over when they caught on something just across the way. It was... out of place, it, didn't... belong there. You sat up straight, senses heightening when you saw the figure move, the paleness a stark contrast to the lush greenery around you.

That definitely doesn't belong here.

"You need not be afraid," a voice rang out. You were on your feet in an instant, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes darted between the trees. Where did it go?

"Behind you, dear." You jumped, adrenaline spiking as a rush of fear flooded your system. You fell flat on your rear, kicking backward with your hands and feet. You barely registered with stood before you, the smile like a cat staring down at a helpless mouse.

"Allow me to repeat myself; do. Not. Be. Afraid." Your breath came out in small pants, and you stared at the man with pure terror in your eyes. He was a few feet from you, merely standing calmly and looking at you as though waiting for you to stand up. You took just a moment to regain control of your thoughts, remembering you were in fact in a dress, on the ground, and there was a stranger in front of you. You scrambled to your feet, dusting off the back of your dress and glancing sidelong at the man. He smirked at you.

"Very well then. I don't have all day; I did come here with purpose." You look at him incredulously.

"Whatever are you talking about?" You ask. He folds his arms over his chest.

"A proposition, really." He states. "I've been... noticing... you might be interested in something I have to offer." He states. You raise an eyebrow.

"Do tell." You say flatly. You clasps his hands behind his back, beginning a slow circle around you.

"I have the ability to grant you something -- a power, of sorts -- that I cannot posess myself. It's a very special gift, child, one some would," he leans close, and you stiffen. The air around you even seems to drop in temperature. "...kill for." You shudder.

"What makes you think I want it? Why me? How do you have this?" You ask, and then it hits you -- he is a faerie. He is fae, and he came over the wall. You turn, staring at him as he laughs cruelly.

"Ahh, so you've put it together then." You glare at him.

"What is your kind even doing on this side of the wall, huh? Don't you understand people like my father would kill you?" You spat. The man only grins wickedly.

"Precisely, which is why I am offering this gift to you, Princess," you straighten.

"With this new strength, you will weild shadows of emerald; posess strength, at your will; have the ability to forge your own magic, transform your own reality, and manipulate what is real," he explains. Your eyes widen. Was all of this true?

"And... why give it to me?" You ask.

"Lets just say... I have a war, I am heading. I am a King too, after all." He lets out a dark chuckle. You look toward the ground, thinking for a moment. Apparently you think too long, because he starts talking again.

"You'll be a good asset to have when I need it, and I couldn't keep this gift even if I wanted to." He scoffs. "Like calls to like, some joke... by the Cauldron-"

"Okay. I accept."

He grins, all of his decaying teeth exposed and you grimace.

"Excellent."

Thunder cracks overhead, the sky exchanging the sun for an overcasted gray pantone. You look side to side, the leaves and twigs around you rising from the forrest floor in a dance on a phantom wind as the breeze tornadoes around you in waves. It increases speed, and the man cackles, the crown on his head glimmering with the movements.

You squeeze your eyes shut, the motions, the sounds -- its all too much. More thunder whips overhead, the wind picking up and you open your eyes to watch as the man beging to recede into the windstorm.

"Hey!" You call out, reaching out a lame hand in protest. "Wait! How am I supposed to-" Another flash of lightning strikes the ground, inches from your fingertips and you shriek, retracting your hand and shoving your palms into your eyes. You can't help but fall to your knees, the ground biting into your flesh as your dress blows and tugs with the whipping winds around you. Tears threaten to fall, and you curl into the soft Earth, wishing it would drag you under.

You almost confuse your hairbow for the sensation of the cool, silky caress against your cheek. You instinctively reach up to touch it, a tear slipping free as you cry out. Peering up, you see wisps of smoky black amid the everlasting windstorm, threading through your fingers and softly caressing your face. You sob, the lightning overhead only drawing closer. The coolness of the smoke around your cheek, over your shoulder, and through your fingers brings a little comfort to the scariest moment of your life.

It only continues to get scarier as lightning streaks across the sky once more. This time, however, it doesn't span the whole sky. It's aiming right at you. As if you're in slow motion, you don't react quick enough -- the lightning continues to move at, well, lightning speed, as it hits the mark it was aiming for.

✧･ﾟ: *

You awake with a jolt, thrashing against the cool silken sheets wrapped around you. You're back in your bed, the soft hues of the late afternoon sun basking your room in an amber glow. Your eyes dart around the room wildly; how did you end up in here? How much time had passed? The last thing you remembered were the cool caresses of those shadowy figures as the tornado-like winds whipped around you-

You leap from your bed, landing on the floor as soft as a feline and feeling... lighter. You furrow your brow, checking yourself over. Stepping in front of your mirror, you didn't look much different; sure, your hair could use a brush run through it, but not much else was amiss. You let out a sigh of relief, the sunlight catching in the flecks of your irises, highlighting the emerald specks hidden in them.

Oh. That was new.

Then, you remembered that tiny, new little change.

The.. what had he called it? The gift, that fae had given you.

The King, rather. Oh so he said.

You chewed on your bottom lip, beginning to pace around like you'd done this morning. You thought up what you should do about this... predicament, you were now in. You'd learned of the war that was happening, or so this "King", had told you. He also said you would be an asset to him, which you still couldn't understand or come up with any explaination as to why.

You halted your footsteps. You'd spent many days in this room, in this palace, pacing, doing absolutely nothing but wasting time -- and if the threat of war was real, if that faerie was telling the truth, then you needed to find out more for yourself. Gods be damned if your father would ever clue you in on such matters.

You made way for the stairs, practically taking them two at a time, nearly floating down the staircase it seemed with the pace you were going. You continued to make haste, bolting for your father's study. The sky was streaking with tinges of purple and crimson, sign that dinner would soon be ready and your father would be on his merry way home soon.

You didn't have much time.

Heaving the massive doors of his study, your breath caught when you finally saw the interior. Sure, you'd caught glances inside every now and again -- but you were forbidden in this room, as was any servant, any maiden, even Graysen wasn't allowed in here. You knew, whatever you needed to find had to be locked away in here. You could feel it, although it was calling out to you.

Stepping in, you made way for the rows of books along the far wall. It was only dimly lit inside the room, but you did not have a problem seeing the titles as clearly as if the sun shone from the ceiling of this very room. Was this another condition of the gift given to you?

Scanning the texts, most seemed rather useless. There were a few that pertained to faeries, but you'd already been educated on the history of their kind -- that wasn't what you were in here for. You turned, peering over your shoulder toward the windows. A massive trunk sat, and every nerve ending vibrated with the call of your power drawing you to it.

You rushed over, dropping to your knees and popping the locks. Shoving the lid open, you found a single map inside. You yanked it out, letting the lid slam shut as you unrolled it.

The map had a few areas on it -- ones you'd heard of, but couldn't understand why your father would be keeping under such protection. The scroll featured documentation of the Continent, and above it; Prythian. It was divided into smaller sections, and off to one side there was another small island with the title of Hybern, and you didn't miss a large, red X over the area scribbled in dark ink. You rolled it back up quickly, tucking it under your arm.

You figured would suffice, and you would be able to work off of this and gather more information from the library, but as you made way for the door...

His desk. It was practically screaming at you, begging to be rummaged through. It was clean, pristine, and calling so loudly that you stopped dead in your tracks. Turning slowly toward it, you confusedly stepped closer.

"What am I... looking for over here?" You wondered aloud. You looked all around -- he had no papers on it, no boxes or locks stored near the floor. You ran your hands along the sides of it even, but it wasn't until you sat in his chair that you felt the exhaustion hit you. Wave after wave of intensity coursed through you, as if alerting you to take take take what was needed. You threw your hands in the air.

"There's nothing here!" You shouted, nearing your witts end at the empty desk before you. Your veins flooded with electricity, and you hissed at the pain. Why wouldn't it stop? Why wouldn't it all just... go away?

"THERE IS NOTHING!" You repeat, yelling into the empty air. "I CAN'T FIND IT-" You bring both of your hands down on the desk, bright green flames bursting from your palms as they make contact with the wood. You gasped loudly, the flares dissipating into thin tendrils of emerald smoke, similar to those from the forest earlier in the day. You stared down at the backs of your hands, not sure if you wanted to move them and see the damage you'd done, or keep them there and enjoy your ignorance for a few moments longer.

You shakily remove them from their planted position, only growing more confused when the desk below remained pristine. "What... the... Hell..." you mutter. You glance toward the ground, noticing a small tray laying haphazardly below. A few papers and quills lay scattered about, and you brace the ground, craning your neck to look at the underside of the desk.

It was secured underneath, you see. The force must have knocked the hidden compartment off of its hinges.

You pick up the tray and the supplies, laying them out on your father's desk to examine. Nevermind that there is a keyhole in the front, and no key in sight -- you wouldn't have been able to get inside the compartment anyway. Amid the papers, there are many pertaining to past trips that are no longer relevant; but a few on top of the pile catch your eye. Other than Graysen's birth certificate, a few of the other pages feature words like "Queens", and "securing the Continental borders" and "aligning with Hybern for the war"-

Your pulled from your amazement when you hear the unmistakeable sound of hooves outside the front entrance. Your blood runs cold, and you quickly shove the discarded papers back in the tray and jam it back onto its hinges under your father's desk. It doesn't fit quite right -- but it will have to do for now. You'd be dead if he caught you poking around in here.

You quickly glance around the room as you swipe the rather important documents from his desk as well as the map, and assure the room looks just as you found it. You're pulling the door closed, waiting for the soft sound of the latch when you hear the grand doors opening. Shit. The only way to your room is the grand staircase, and going that way will only ensure that your father and brother see you, contraband in hand. How are you going to get out of this one?

Think think think, what other routes could you take? You rack your brain, but can't think of any. Taking the service stairs would draw attention as dinner is about to be served and the attendants are using those at the moment, oh Gods how you wish you could just be in your room right now...

And just like that, you were.

You look around incredulously, dropping the map and the papers in shock. One minute, you were outside your father's study. And the next...

You were here.

But, how?

You nearly double over, bracing a hand on your dresser as the realization hits you with full force. The wood brashes against the wall loudly, and you hear your name in the distance. You shake your head, slowly as the gravity of the situation sets in. You can't believe this. What you've done. What you have done. What have you done?

"No... no no no," you groan aloud. Heavy footsteps sound outside your room, and you go into panic mode, pushing yourself from the dresser and kicking the papers and map beneath your bed. You're just in time -- within seconds, a quick knock sounds at your door and your brother is inching it open.

"Y/N? Are you... alright? In here?" He asks cautiously.

You clear your throat, smoothing down your hair and taking a seat atop your bed. "Yes." He opens the door wider, peering inside and gives you a bored look.

"Father requests your presence. Dinner is to be served in five minutes." He says flatly. You nod, trying hard as you are willing to mask every emotion swirling inside. His brow furrows, and he gives you one last quizzical look.

"You sure nothing is going on up here?" He asks. You shake your head.

"Nope." You pop the P, smoothing your skirt and he looks you up and down with distaste as he begins shutting the door.

"Don't be late this time."

✧･ﾟ: *

You barely get any sleep, tossing and turning all night as thoughts of your new gifts and new... self plague you. All night, you continue to have haunting dreams, visions of yourself displaced in Prythian among the monsters that lurk the lands from the stories you'd always been told. The faeries that had once kept humans as slaves, faeries who have a thirst for human blood.

But now it was you. You who had been tricked. You who had been a fool, and accepted such a curse from a fae himself only to become what you feared most.

How would you ever be able to tell your family? Your father, aligning with Hybern to take out the fae-kind, preparing for war where he would not bat an eye slaughtering anything other than human. Your brother, who's last courted female left him, taking to Prythian herself instead. You knew where his loyalties lied, and they most certainly weren't with you.

This agony continued for days, not that your father caught on. He never paid you mind anyway, so keeping your inner turmoil from him wasn't very difficult. It was the restless nights, the nights that you'd awake in terror, and constant thoughts of what may happen to you here that plagued you the most.

You needed to find some way out.

A few weeks since being given your gift per se, you were headed down to the kitchen one morning after a particularly harrowing night to greet your favorite person on the Continent, the sweet smell of fresh biscuits bringing a seed of joy to your morning.

"Good morning Mrs. Julie," you stated. Mrs. Julie turned from her work station, greeting you with her signature smile -- only for it to turn into a frown moments later.

"My, dear child! Have you gotten no rest in days?" She asks, taking your cheeks in her hands. She turns your face side to side, and you let out a yawn in confirmation. She tsk tsk tsks, shaking her head and dropping her hands. She turns back to her station.

"What's been keeping you awake, hmm?" She asks. You take a seat on a stool near the end of her table, watching as she works on icing a tray of fruit tarts before her. You breathe deeply -- Julie is your favorite, most trusted person in the world. Since your mother died, she took you in of sorts, always caring for and giving you the love you lacked from your other family members. But this? This kind of secret... it just might be something that is too much for her to handle. Is she knew you were a faerie, she may see you differently. You didn't know if it was something you could stomach.

"Is it... a male, perhaps?" She asks. You scoff, nudging her with your arm. That wakes you right up.

"Oh please, Mrs. Julie -- if I had a lover, you'd be the first to know!" You say playfully. She chuckles, continuing to ice.

"Well, dearie I don't know what you tell me and what you decide to keep is all your business," she offers politely. You don't know how to respond, so you stay quiet. She sighs, setting down the icing bag and taking your hands in hers. Her soft eyes peer into yours and she leans close.

"Y/N, if there is something troubling you, you know you can always talk with me, right?" She says quietly. You nod wordlessly, tears prickling the back of your eyes. Her eyes search yours in silent question, and you loose a breath. You know she is trustworthy, no matter how she might look at you after this, you know you need to talk to someone about your situation.

"Maybe... maybe there is, something." You say. She nods, looking down at the table like she knew you'd say that.

"Well, how about after breakfast when I take my break, we can meet in the garden? Talk about it?" She offers. You nod, and she pulls you into a tight hug. You let a single tear slip free, swiping it away before letting go from her embrace.

"Alright then -- run along, child. You don't want to be late for breakfast, now."

✧･ﾟ: *

As it turns out -- you'd worried over nothing. Mrs. Julie had listened to every word you explained, only offering you her undivided attention and words of sorrow for what you endured. She also offered her promise that she would do whatever was needed to help you, especially when you explained how you'd gone into your father's study.

"Human, faerie, royal -- Hell, you could even be one of those pesky buzzards that ravish the crops in the springtime, and I would still love you just the same, my dear." Her words nearly brought you to tears, and that's when you knew you'd made the right choice in telling her.

That night as you laid down, your head felt clearer -- the grasp and acceptance on who and what you are that much stronger. You hoped that tonight, you would finally be able to enjoy the splendor of peaceful sleep, as your eyelids began to slide shut...

A willowy, chilled breeze slipped past your shoulders, and you instinctively tugged at your duvet, wrapping it around the exposed skin. Moments later, the breeze slid past again, tickling your neck and dragging past your nose. You scrunched it, flipping over on your pillow to face the other side and gripped your blankets tighter in your fist.

Then, the duvet was yanked from your bed altogether.

You shreiked, eyes flying open as you scrambled to a sitting position. You were far from the lamp that stood feet from your bed, but you didn't need it. Through the moonlight pooling in from your window, you were able to make out the immistakable shadow of a body, leaned against the frame. Your heart rate picked up, taking in the sharp-tipped wings draped behind him. You raised a hand on instinct; familiar flames of jade eliciting with the motion.

The man stands to his full height, taking a step toward the bed and you lunge forward, braced on your knees and one hand as the sparks in the other only grow.

"Don't you DARE take one more step!" You hiss, and he puts his hands up in defense, but continues to walk frward slowly.

"Listen, Princess, there's no need to get all-"

"I SAID, STOP." You fire a line of your power towards him, but to your dismay, he easily avoids it, sidestepping. It lands upon one of the paintings handing on your wall instead, cremating it to nothing but ash. He watches, turning to you and whistling lowly as he halts his movements.

"Wowwwww," He purrs. "Were you really going to... incinerate me?" His head turns to you, and you glare at him through the dark.

"I most certainly was." You hop from the bed, landing with lithe precision and slowly approach the intruder. Soft cobalt stones glimmer in the moonlight upon the male's shoulders, one on his chest as your eyes roam over him. It is easier to make out his defining features as you draw nearer, and...

Holy shit.

"Well, if you'd done that, you wouldn't be able to size me up like I'm your last meal; as you're doing now," he responds with a chuckle. You scoff, and fold your arms over your chest. A heat rises to your cheeks as you remember you are in only a nightgown, and this is, again, a stranger. In your home. The flecks of chartruese return to your irises, and the handsome, winged man puts is hands up once more.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry to have frightened you. But, it's not like I could've walked through your front door, you know, and I had to come during the night-" You shake your head, eyes dulling in color a shade.

"Who are you?" You demand.

"Azriel." He bends dramatically at the waist, and you roll your eyes. "Pleased to finally meet you, Princess Y/N."

"Uh huh. Why are you in my bed chambers?" You ask. He sighs, taking a step forward and beginning to pace. You fold your arms over your chest, sensing a long explaination coming with this one.

"Well, actually I came to talk with you. About... you." He says quietly. You raise an eyebrow, perching on the end of the bed.

"What about me?" You ask, feigning ignorance. You weren't stupid -- you were a human girl, given the powers of fae. Why wouldn't another of their kind come crawling in here to ask questions?

"You're... you've been changed. You've been given this power that you aren't experienced with, and-"

"And what? You came here to take it back?" You defend. Azriel looks at you, brows hung low as he frowns at you, annoyed.

"No, I came to help you navigate it." He states, fingertips pressed together. You sigh, leaning back on your hands. The action causes the thin nightgown to ride up on your thighs, and you don't miss Azriel's line of sight trailing along the hem of your dress.

"What makes you so sure I want your help?" You clip. Azriel clears his throat, looking down at the floor, then to the window he came through.

"You probably don't, and I get that, alright?" He sighs. Something in your heart strains a bit, and you feel a bit bad for being so rude with him. But... then you remember he came in through your window in the middle of the night. Unannounced. "But I am sure you've heard of what is to happen in merely a few days between the humans and fae alike, the war and... and you may very well get caught up in it."

His face softens as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, the mattress dipping with his weight. It causes you to shift closer to him, and you nearly tumble right into him. Not that... you'd mind...

Focus.

"I... I've heard of the war..." You start. His hazel eyes gaze softly at you, and you continue. "When... when I was in the forest, and when I was, well, I don't know, when this "happened" to me," you gesture with your hands. "The male said I would be useful to him. But I don't know what he was on about. Or, why me? I don't understand. He kept saying like calls to like and he couldn't keep it himself -- whatever that means." A small smile graces Azriel's lips, and you realize how close in proximity you've scooted. You scootch back an inch, raising an eyebrow in question.

"What's so funny?" You ask. He turns fully to you, bending a knee to rest on the bed while his other leg remains draped over the side. The iridescent light of the moon is illuminating the planes of his face magnificently; the sharp curve of his jaw, the dark arch of his brow; those full, luscious lips...

"Allow me to show you." He holds out a hand, palm up, and you glance down at it. Dark, inky shadows curl around his arms and run down the tips of his fingers, swirling over his calloused skin. You can't help but lean close, so intrigued by his power so similar to yours.

"I've... I've seen these. Before, they were-"

"In the forest that day?" He finishes. Your eyes meet his, and the shadows extend, dancing up the soft skin of your forearms and twirling through the silky strands of your hair. You let out a small giggle as their featherlight touches retreat, slithering back to Azriel.

"You were there." You say quietly. He nods, a look of regret on his face.

"I'm sorry you have been put through... all of this." He says softly, his hand reaching to lightly cup your knee. Your eyebrows raise slightly at the touch, just a spark of what you felt that day in your father's office shooting through your veins at the contact. His eyes search yours, and you glance down at his hand, the burning inside only deepening when you notice the amount of scars atop it.

It doesn't matter who or what you are -- everyone has a past, you suppose. Your heart tugs on the fact that Azriel seems to have gone through quite a bit.

He notices your stare, and motions to move his hand back. You're quicker, grasping his fingers first, keeping his hand in place. The corner of his mouth tilts upward, and you can't help yourself from doing the same.

Ohh, what your father would do if he caught you like this.

Oh, what your father would. Do.

"Um," you say hastily, rising from the bed. "It is rather late -- and since you seem to be keeping tabs, you know I haven't been sleeping well," you say. Azriel stands, stepping close to you and you suck in a breath.

"Oh, I'll let you sleep Princess," he coos. "But we're pulling those documents out tomorrow night. We have to know what Hybern is planning, and if you want to save your father, and your people..." he saunters toward the window.

"How do you know that I..." You peek under the bed. Sure enough, the documents and the map are all there. Azriel chuckles.

"They like to call me a spymaster. A Shadowsinger," he says. You simply shrug.

"Okay. Whatever that means." He shakes his head, propping a boot on the windowsill and peering out.

"So... you'll be back tomorrow?" You ask wearily. Azriel's eyes meet yours once more, and he nods.

"I'll come earlier next time, if I can." You smile.

"Try not to rip my blankets off of me this time." You say with a chuckle. He shakes his head, ducking through the window and extending his enormous, night-black wings. You rush to the window, gazing out as you watch him disappear into the night.

✧･ﾟ: *

You awoke the next morning, practically floating out of bed and skipping from your dressing chambers to your vanity as you prepared for the day. You slept beautifully, you had to admit -- no nightmares, no tossing, or turning. You breathed a sigh of relief as you twirled in the prettiest yellow sundress you had, taking to the stairs for your usual routine.

"Well, someone is in a much better mood today," Mrs. Julie muses. You pluck a ripe raspberry from her fruit basket, popping it in her mouth as you twirl around the kitchen. With all the hustle and bustle from the other attendants before breakfast, your presence is hardly noticed.

"I slept well," you say. She shakes her head, tapping you on the nose.

"Mmm hmm," she humms. You talk for a few more moments, and then head upstairs for breakfast. You only feel a little guilty for not telling her about Azriel, but... it just seems too new. Too fresh. You decide to wait.

"Good morning, everyone!" You announce, approaching the table. Graysen's groggy morning stare meets yours, and your father sets down his mug to give you a once-over. Your brother only groans.

"What's with the Jolly Miss Sunshine, Y/N?" He grunts. You huff, taking a seat at the table as attendants bring out the food.

"Good morning." Your father responds, and you nod to him with a smile. There is not much warmth in those icey, dead eyes of his but... at least he's paying you mind today.

As you finish, Graysen is excusing himself to leave and you are about to do the same, readying to stand leave the room.

"Please, Y/N. Sit. We need to have a discussion." Your father's tone cuts through the silence of the room like a knife, and your hands begin to clam up as you sit back down at the table. He sets his utensils down on his plate, slowly draining the last of his coffee before looking at you, really looking you in the eyes for the first time in what feels like ages.

"Whatever is the-"

"I know you spend a great deal of time in the gardens." He cuts you off. You clamp your mouth shut, nodding at his statement. He nods with you, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"I know you spend a great deal of time... tending, to these gardens, hmm?" He says. You nod again, growing impatient and wondering what angle he's working.

"I'm just curious." He pauses, eyes fixating on the wall behind you. "I'm actually, rather curious. Why the hedges... are weeks, weeks overgrown, if you are out there... every day... "tending" to them." He says it more like a statement, and honestly, it is. You hadn't actually cut a bush or a hedge in months, truly. You'd been more focused on doing what you wanted, and since talk of the war began and you'd been given fae powers-

"M-my gloves," you stammer. His eyes slice to yours from the spot they'd fixated on, a quizzical look on his face.

"My gloves. They're... ruined." You say. He nods slowly.

"You need new ones." He asks dryly. You nod, and he sighs airily.

"New gloves it is, then."

✧･ﾟ: *

That night, after bidding everyone goodnight, you made sure to keep your dayclothes on. You wouldn't want another duvet-nightgown-midnight situation happening again...

You don't wait long for Azriel to appear, coming through your window with the stealthiness of a trained feline and silence of a snake. Your breath catches from your seat in the middle of your bed -- his outfit similar today, all leather, but his tank top showed off his bulking arms and the long, black tattoos that ran laterally along them.

"Hi," You whispered. He strided over, kicking off his boots and climbing onto your bed. He offered you a whisper of a smile.

"Hi." He said back. You gestured to the items laid before you.

"I... I got everything out that I had," You say. He nods, looking at every piece of parchment.

"Thank you," he mumbles. You smile, and he moves to pick up the map first.

"So," he begins, clearing his throat. "How much do you know about fae?"

✧･ﾟ: *

You hadn't realized how late it had gotten, the only indication was the ache in your back from leaning over the pages. Your mind was blown, but you only wanted to hear more; whether that was to hear Azriel keep talking, or for information. You didn't mind. Both were favorable.

He'd explained more in-depth about the history of Prythian, the Courts, and the politics of it all. His explaination was a little different than the one you'd always been offered; his seemed more fair and just, whereas yours always seemed more geared toward the hatred of the fae. He also explained more about Hybern, and how the King you met was likely using you as a way to get the humans into his hands for the taking.

"So... he gifted me these powers, thinking it would aid him in the war as my father is working with him, to fight against the rest of the courts? Why would the King, or any humans, want to fight the fae who are against keeping humans as slaves -- it was Hybern who were pro-human demise," you say. Azriel shrugs.

"They've got it backwards," he reasons. "And, the King saw an opportunity with you, vulnerable, and alone, and he took it. This ensures if things go sideways with your father, he has collateral. I told you Princess; you're more involved than you know." You sigh, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave. You close your eyes and rub your temples as you feel a gentle hand rub soothing circles over your back.

"The King is going to kill the humans anyway." You conclude. You don't need to look, but you know Azriel nods. "He's just using my father to lure them to Hybern to do it."

"Which is why you need to convince your father to do the right thing first," he says. Your eyes widen, and you look to him, a sarcastic laugh bubbling from your throat. He brings his hand to your mouth, covering it and leaning rather close to you.

"Shhh," he hushes. "Someone will hear you."

Your eyes level with his hand, and then meet his as he slowly retracts. He's inches from your face now, and you can feel your insides buzzing with delight.

"I know it isn't ideal, and it might not be easy, but it's our last option here." His fingers slowly trace along the side of your arm. "Look, if it were up to me," he whispers. His eyes stare intensely at your lips. "I'd get you out of this wretched place; I'd bring you back with me, where you could..." he inches closer, and your heartbeat quickens. "...be who you are... and, not have to hide it from anyone..." You gaze up at him, and he moves closer, quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your face heats, the skin searing with utter delight at the point of contact. More more more your power thrums.

"Go... with you?" You ask quietly. "To... Prythian?" He nods slightly, downcast eyes raking over your form as his pointer finger and thumb catch a strand of your hair, rolling it between them.

"Azriel... I can't just-"

"Why not, Princess?" The way he says it sends virescent flames shooting through your every vein, and you feel rediculous for thinking this way over a male you've just met so soon. His fingers drop the twirl of hair, knuckles grazing over your jaw affectionately instead. You lean into the touch.

"We've... only just met..." You trail off. He tilts your chin to look at him, a small smirk forming on his perfect mouth.

"Allow some time to get to know me, then." He states, voice low and gravelly. Gods, the way you'd lean in and press your mouth to his right now...

"Think about it?" He asks, eyes pleading. You nod, and he smiles, a small glimpse at his perfectly white teeth peeking through. You gasp.

"Aww... Azriel, you have a nice smile, don't you?" You coo. He shakes his head, a small blush creeping up his neck as he slips from your bed, shucking on his boots. You pad over to him, your hand playfully resting on his arm.

"Azzzz... all night, and I didn't even get to see it once?" You whine in humor. He rolls his eyes, grinning at your words.

"I guess you'll just have to say something that would make me really, really happy," he says. You feel a gentle pull in your chest, and you practically leap toward him. You chuckle, shoving the feeling out of the way.

"Mhm, nice try." You say with a wink. He mounts the windowsill, his hand gripping the top as he stares out. Ughhh his arm is the size of your head against the moonlight painted sky-

"Tomorrow then, Princess?" He says.

"Tomorrow, Shadowsinger." He grins, leaping from the opening and flying into the night.

✧･ﾟ: *

Your days continue in the same pattern; your father and brother ignoring you for the most part, you filling Mrs. Julie in on the little that you know about what's going on (and continuing to feel bad about keeping Azriel a secret from her), and sneaking the Spymaster in at night to pore over your fathers documents and study his war plans with Hybern.

Though no moves have been made yet, Azriel keeps telling you to be on your defenses. You know you'll have to talk with your father soon, and time is running out, but with his daily meetings, you find less-than-opportune moments in each day.

Its been about two weeks now since Azriel first came around, and your day had been the same as usual. Your father had no meetings today, but Graysen was preoccupying him, which meant of course, no discussion. Nonetheless, you still found yourself being summoned after dinner.

That's odd. He never called for you.

As you arrived to the main floor, the attendant led you down the hallway, and your footsteps slowed as you approached none other than...

Your father's study. Your heart sank.

"I don't know what else you want me to say, father, I didn't do it!" The hard slam of what sounded like a fist on a table had you jumping, and the attendant left you at the doorway. You leaned in close, straining to hear the conversation inside.

"Well, someone was fucking in here because all of our plans and deals made with the Queens are missing, Graysen." Your father chides. His tone is angry, rising in octave. "I told you how serious this situation is-"

"I know its fucking serious!" Your brother yells. You raise your eyebrows. You've never heard him yell at your father before, and all be damned if you even considered-

A sharp slap of skin on skin cracks through the air, immediate silence following it. Your hand covers your mouth, eyes wide in shock. You try very hard to listen as the conversation continues.

"Don't you ever raise your voice at me like that again, boy." You father says, lethally calm. In an instant, you hear heavy footsteps and dart out of the way, the door being thrown open and Graysen running through it. His eyes meet yours only for an instant, his face the expression of only a trained killer — you shudder. There’s no way you’d ever be able to be honest with him about what you were. He wouldn’t hesitate to take you out, just as he planned to do aligning with that vile King beyond the wall-

“Y/N. In my study. Now.”

You hastily move inside, trying to remain calm as your father rounds his desk, pressing his fingertips to the surface. You’d expect him to sit, but he makes no move. Instead, he peers down at the wood as you stand motionless in the center of the room.

“I’ll get right to the point.” He grunts, and you chew the inside of your cheek nervously. “Did you enter this study at all within the last few days?”

His eyes detach from the desk, meeting yours before you shake your head, and his lips press into a thin line.

“I’ll only repeat myself once. Did. You. Enter-“

“NO, father, would you truly believe I’d deceive you?” You cut in. His eyes blaze with anger, only a flare, and you realize you’ve hit your mark. Definitely no talking him into changing course tonight.

“I believe you’d do what you need to in order to protect someone you love, or so you think.” He spats. You scowl.

“What are you-“

“Oh don’t paint me a fool, Y/N. I’m not so blind to notice my daughter spending more time in her room than out in the fresh air, out in the garden where you’ve spend it your entire life.” He reaches to the shelf behind him, chucking a pair of new gloves at you. You catch them, and flare at him.

“So what? I haven’t been gardening-“

“Because you stay awake at night. Talking to some male who you’ve been sneaking into my home, MY PALACE, THINKING I WOULDN’T NOTICE-“

Rage fills your every vein, and you unlock the tiny vault in the back of your mind that you promised not to; the most precious secret you’d only let out when the time was right.

Oh, Azriel would be so proud of you for this. Finally defending yourself against what you know is wrong.

“IT WON’T BE YOURS FOR MUCH LONGER IF YOU KEEP TREATING ME THIS WAY.” You bellow. Your chest rises and falls, and his eyes pierce your soul the way he’s glaring at you.

A few agonizingly slow beats of silence pass, your father's fury only intensifying in his stare. You brace for the impact of his words, but when he opens his mouth, the only tone that comes out is lethally calm.

"What. The Hell did you just say to me, girl?" He asks. You gulp, fear beginning to creep into your mind.

Stand your ground, you can practically hear Azriel's voice in your mind. A shadow outside your father's window passes, only catching you off-guard for a moment before you meet his eyes again. Your hands ball into fists, and you take a steadying breath.

"This palace... won't be yours. For much longer." You say, hating how unconfident you sound. His anger turns to confusion, and you continue. You choose this moment, right now, to try and convince your father of a new strategy. He's always more malleable when angry, anyway.

"If you align yourself with that King... you're only damning yourself father, damning us all, and you know it-" You start, and he barks out a cruel laugh, shaking his head and looking down at his desk.

"Please -- don't pretend you know anything about this war-"

"I might not," You bite out. "But I do know how to help the humans. And aligning with a fae King who only intends to use you as a slave seems..." You trail off. He cocks an eyebrow.

"Go on, since you're so full of ideas today, go on. Let's hear how you really feel about my choices in protecting our lands." He smirks cruelly. You glare at him.

"It's idiotic father! It's rediculous, it's... it's not well-thought out, I'm trying to explain that I have something that could truly help you-"

"I think I've heard enough of your play-pretend theories for today. This kingdom is mine, and anyone who intends to take it will have to kill me for it." As if on cue, a group of your father's knights from his finest cavalry storms the room, grabbing your arms and halting you to your position. You flail your arms wildly, kicking beneath the thin fabric of your skirts.

"Get the Hell off me! Father what are you-"

"I don't know how you managed to get in here, or what you thought you were going to do with whatever you found," he snarls, drawing closer to you. "But when I find out who you sent to do your dirty work and what exactly you stole; believe me, no debt goes unpaid, little girl." You bare your teeth, pupils flaring in rage against the cruel King before you. He staggers back a step, looking you up and down in slight horror.

"Take her down to the service cellars." He commands, and metal scrapes against its own as the soldiers hoist you up and lead you from the room. Through your thrashing and hollering, you hear one last order from your father before the heavy doors swing shut.

"Do NOT let her out!"

✧･ﾟ: *

You can't help but pace once more, only this time, you're in the dirty, dank cellar. The dirt walls feel suffocating around you -- the only source of light are the torches on the walls and a small, barred window on the wall near the ceiling. Night has fallen, and you continue to walk back and forth, thinking hard about everything that you read, everything your father said to you.

He knew you'd been sneaking someone in. Did he know it was a fae male? Probably not, or else Azriel would surely be dead by now. Although perhaps this was part of a bigger scheme, to continue to draw the Shadowsinger practically to his doorstep every night, while he lay in wait...

Stop. You shook your head, not wanting to think of the possibility of anything happening to Azriel.

Azriel.

Your thoughts are flooded with images of his mossy, hazel eyes peering into yours in the moonlight. The way his tan skin looked, decorated with those swirling tattoos all over his massive biceps. His silky black hair, how it would feel to run your hands through it as he finally pulled you in close for a kiss-

STOP. There are more imoportant matters at hand right now. And... you're in a cell. You had to find some way out.

What was it, that got your father so angry to throw you down here in the first place? To lock you up for Gods know how long? Was it your backtalking? Surely not -- though Graysen had done it, and earned himself a slap to the face. Was it... your "scheming"? He practically called that child's play.

Although he really didn't like when you talked about his crown not being his after the war.

Your mind went back to the other night -- you and Azriel sat on your bed, poring over the pages you'd taken and you had picked up Graysen's birth certificate. When you looked closer at it, really close; it turns out, he's not first in line for your father's crown like everyone believed him to be.

You are.

The revelation had you feeling sick, not that you even wanted to rule such a kingdom on your own, and you couldn't believe you and your brother had not shared the cruel father you were forced to grow up with. Even worse -- that man was your true father, and you hoped to be nothing like him. Did Graysen know? Surely not. Did your father?

He had to. That would explain his outburst from earlier.

Gods, how you wished Azriel were here. The longer your feet create a path in the dirt, the more and more you think about his offer to bring you with him to his own home -- how lovely it would be to escape this Hellhole, this life of nothing in general; to see him whenever you like, and never live in fear of being with him.

You're pulled from your thoughts when you hear a commotion from down the hallway, a clammoring of what sounded like heavy metals and rustling from down the corridor. You jump toward the bars of your enclosure, sticking a hand through and calling out.

"Please! Someone please!" You call. Tendrils of green seep from beneath your palms, and you place them against the bars; only to fly back a moment later in pain. The planes of your hands feel as though they've been burnt off as red-hot searing spikes shoot through your skin. You shakily stare at them, the red skin prickling with the injury. Tears line your waterline, and you fight to reign them in. Through your pain-induced haze, you hear the commotion continue -- shouting and metal colliding down the corridor.

Until it all goes quiet. You make to stand, noticing thte burning in your palms already beginning to lessen with each passing minute. Approaching the barred entrance wearily, you look out, but see nothing except empty, black, nothingness. You let out a sigh of defeat, and turn to make way back into your prison.

The soft jangling of keys turns your attention back to the gate, and your eyes widen as the door swings open.

"Miss Julie?" You whisper shout. She holds a finger to her lips, motioning you forward.

"Come child -- be hushed, there are guards still lingering," she says. You stare at her incredulously as she pulls you in for an embrace, and when she releases you, her eyes are lined with tears.

"I can't believe he'd truly lock you away," She mutters, and you shake your head.

"Miss Julie, I can't thank you enough for coming to get me out." You whisper, as she takes your hand and begins leading you toward the service stairs.

"Oh, don't thank me dear; you can thank that handsome male of yours, do tell me his name?" She asks, smirking sidelong at you. You shoot her an incredulous look.

"What are you talking abou-"

"Pshhh, please," She tutts. "You could've just told me you had a lover, Y/N. A handsome one, at that." She giggles. Your cheeks burn red.

"Miss Julie, I don't know who you're-"

"Y/N," Azriel pants breathlessly, and you whip around to watch as he appears on the other side of the kitchen. You gasp, quickly sidestepping the soldiers on the floor of the room to get to him. You paw at his chest, his jacket, even caressing his face.

"Azriel its-" He chuckles, still fighting to catch his breath.

"Yes, its really me, Princess." He says. You can't help the tears that begin to spill over, his hands braced on his knees as he works to stand up straight. You don't hesitate to jump into his arms once he's at his full height; and he lets out a sigh of relief as he holds you tight against him.

"Y/N, are you alright?" He asks, setting you down gently. When your feet hit the dirt, you turn your gaze to his, nodding slightly as tears continue to fall. You can't help but notice the blood staining his left ear and trailing down his jaw; splatters covering the leathers he's wearing. You pull back to give him a once-over, but he takes your hands in his and pulls you flush against him once more, his right hand cradling the back of your head to his chest as the other wraps around your waist.

"I'm so sorry... I came as soon as I could." You look up at him, and he looks down to you with sorrow in his eyes. You can't help but smile at him, thanking the Gods for sending the one person you needed right now. You notice his eyes looking beyond you, and you pull back to turn to Miss Julie once more.

"So... you've... met, huh?" Miss Julie giggles, and Azriel nods.

"Unfortunate circumstances, but... I'm glad he appeared when he did, or those fools would've been on me in an instant." She gestures to the countless soldiers on the floor. You can only look between the two of them.

"Azriel, how did you -- nevermind." You say, shaking your head. He raises an eyebrow, dipping low so his face is closer to yours. You grin wildly at the closeness, never feeling happier or more relieved in your life. Miss Julie makes a point to silently walk toward the stairs and out of sight of the two of you.

"Of course you'd know, Spymaster." He grins, and you let out a small laugh. His grin widens into a full on smile, and his arm around your waist tightens as he pulls you onto your tippy-toes to finally press his lips to yours. You seem to melt into him, feeling like jelly in his hands. His other hand caresses your jaw, and that lovely, familiar feeling inside of your chest burns brighter and brighter-

"Agh-" You pull back, putting your hand over your heart as you feel the tightness of a golden lasso clenching around it. You stare wildly at Azriel, and his eyes widen.

"Y/N you're... do you feel it?" He asks, his hand over yours tenderly. You look down, and warmth floods your veins at the realization of what is happening. You mentally give the rope a pull, and Azriel's eyes flick back up towards yours. He smiles again, and you slide your hand along his jaw, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"I'm just glad to finally see you smile, Shadowsinger." He kisses you with all the passion he has, hands roaming over your waist and playfully dipping lower to cup your ass in your large hands. You let out an involuntary groan, and he releases you, only to peer down at you with pure love and adoration.

The moment ends all too short, as a sharp cry rings out from your left. Moments later, you spot a crumpled mass on the floor at the bottom of the staircase.

"Miss Julie!" You shout, thundering over to her, eyes wide in horror as she clutches her side in agony. Two metal-clad knights descend the stairs, swords drawn as Azriel is at your side in an instant.

"Get behind me-" His arm his protectively in front of you, blue siphon ablaze as he yanks a blade from its sheath. All you want to do is fall to your knees and fix this; fix it all, save Miss Julie.

But you can't. Rage takes over your mind, more explosive than you've ever felt. More explosive than in the study. More explosive than when your father locked you in a cage. More explosive-

"NOT A CHANCE." Azriel has the good intention to get out of your way as you rear back, unleashing your pure, unfiltered power upon the soldier nearest you. It slamas into him in an instant, throwing him to the ground and paralyzing him all too quickly. Azriel takes his time, fighting with the other armed guard before plowing him to the floor, wings expertly tucked behind him to avoid taking any of the force.

Green flares erupt around you, growing in size with each passing minute. You look around, blinking and trying to clear your thoughts. You wanted to kill. Your father. His armies. That fae King for doing this to you. All of them should pay-

"Y/N." Azriel's sharp voice cuts through your thoughts like a knife, and you turn your attention to him. Miss Julie coughs, and you both rush to her.

"Y/N, we don't have a lot of time..."

"Can you fix this?" You ask, another tear streaming down your face as Miss Julie's eyes begin to darken. Azriel shakes his head gravely, and you heave before letting out a scream, shaking the walls and causing pans to hit the floor with the force. Miss Julie only takes your cheek in her hand softly.

"My sweet child," she whispers. You sob, tears falling onto her smock and staining it. "Don't cry-"

"Miss Julie you can't leave me!" You rasp, coughing as smoke begins to filter through the air. She gives you a small smile as her breathing begins to slow.

"I'll never leave you, my dear." She says. "But... you shouldn't leave him." Her eyes only widen an inch, and you glance to Azriel. You cry harder when you notice a tear falling from his face as well. He slips a hand over her heart, and she grasps it, smiling fondly.

"He is good, Y/N. He is a good... a good male..." she drifts off. You grit yoru teeth, grabbing her shoulders and throwing yourself onto her in a tight embrace. You continue to cry, and you feel Azriel's hand stroking your back comfortingly as he did those nights ago. You stay there for a few more minutes, the smoke burning your eyes as he tries his best to fan it away with his wings.

"Y/N... we have to go..." he says. You sniffle, allowing him to help you up as you press one last kiss to her cheek. He pulls you out the side door, flames nearing the spot you were just sitting. He continues to pull, hand in hand, through the chilly night air toward the thick forest at the back of your estate.

After a few long minutes of silence, he speaks first.

"Listen Princess... I know you have a kingdom here that you could have, but,"

"Take me with you." He stops, wide eyes blinking at you in shock.

"Are you sure?" He asks quietly. You look to him, nodding in confirmation and squeezing his hand tighter.

"Everything she said was right Azriel; I can't be who I am here, and I know you're a good male. You're..." you choke back another sob, and he slows his pace to wipe away a stray tear on your cheek. "You're a good male. I want to be somewhere I know I'll be safe. I know if I'm with you, I'm in good hands." He looks like he could fall to his knees at your words, and the corner of your lips tilts upward in a sad smile, shadows of smoke and emerald curling around the two of you.

Like calls to like, that's what they always say, right?

"Then allow me to show you the way to your new palace, Princess."

✧･ﾟ: *

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protagaster · 1 month ago

Text

Part 5 of the Warrior!Penelope Swap AU

I am not proud of the procrastination I felt completing this vignette...

Thank Blue for even getting this one in a timely manner!

Editor/Co-Author: the wonderful and spectacular @somereaderinblue (GeminiWillow on Ao3) <3

(Cross-Posted on Ao3)

Ares' Goodbye

Penelope and her crew had survived their encounter with the Cyclops, leaving him blind but alive to tell the tale.

But to willingly leave an enemy alive, to force them to live with that shame and humiliation, it is unacceptable. Unacceptable to the spirit of honor, unacceptable to the etiquette of war…

Unacceptable to Ares.

They had done it. Not all of the women who entered that cave made it out, but those who did had acquired enough of the necessary rations needed to make it back to Ithaca.

Those who were left outside that dreadful cave, tasked with watching their friends’ backs and guarding the fleet of ships, could only gaze at their comrades with anxious and curious eyes; while they did not know what specifically happened inside that daunting, mysterious cave, they knew it must’ve been horrible.

Horrible enough to leave those who exited the cave with glassy eyes and shuddering bodies, a sight they haven't seen since the earliest days of war.

Horrible enough to leave them with 72 fewer sisters than before.

Horrible enough for their Queen and captain to feel the need to personally make meaning of their deaths.

Well, whatever it was that happened inside that cave, at least it was over.

For all except one…

Penelope breathed out, hard and heavy and weary.

The scent of blood still lingered in her lungs. She breathed again, in, out, only slightly better this time. Again and again she'll keep breathing till it's gone entirely or refreshed to stay.

So much had happened in that one day, enough that any normal person would assume their life’s excitements and adventures would be fulfilled for the rest of their lives, and the sun had barely begun to set!

Penelope would not complain if no more “adventure-worthy” dilemmas interrupted her and her crew from here on out.

Penelope moved to let out another deep breath, this one aiming to feel much more relaxed compared to all her previous-

When that oh-so familiar rush of adrenaline penetrated her thoughts once more.

Penelope no longer stood on the deck of her ship, surrounded by her fellow female soldiers. Now she stood in those scorching sandy plains, nothing ahead of her but dull golden sand and the familiar red hourglass, filled to the top with black and red sand, floating above her.

Everything looked the same as it usually did, but something about this time was different.

Very different.

Penelope felt not the usual courage and rage that made her more brave and resistant to pain, but instead some strange form of distress, similar to anguish but not quite, akin to growing restlessness on the cusp of spilling into torment.

The hourglass was also different; it had tilted even more compared to the last time she saw it, hanging on by a mere thread that was so very close to unwinding. That faint distorted halo, naked to all but the ties that bind, had neared hazardously close to the hourglass. The invisible pendulum dangling from the halo swung to and for, so close to hitting the sand clock’s glass with every sway of its dance…

Penelope tore her eyes from the lone hourglass.

Turning her whole body to look in the direction behind her, Penelope’s eyes met the cloaked back of the God of War standing far in the distance.

Ares stood as stiff as the barren cliffs of Ithaca. His dark red cape flowed in the harsh, hot winds whilst the back of his golden helm gleamed jarringly against the desert’s intense sunbeams.

His large, war-scarred arms hung to his sides, fists clenched dangerously taut. One of those clenched hands wielded the God’s divine spear, veins bulging and knobby knuckles sharp against flesh. If the shaft hadn’t been made by a fellow God it would have easily split in two.

The God finally turned around to face his mortal. Even if Penelope couldn’t see his expression from behind the helm, the intense waves of disdain and disappointment radiating from her mentor’s very being were practically tangible.

There was no doubt about it.

Ares was furious.

In a flash of a second, Ares all but teleported before the mortal woman. Only a couple of brown and red vulture feathers scattered behind him hinted at his sudden motion.

“That was pointless, cowardice at its best!”

The tone in Ares’ voice was filled to the brim with such seething fury, flaring like a fire ready to spread its devastation. That flame was trying so hard to contain itself, to keep from burning the life in its wake, but containing a fire never erases the heat and the smell of smoke. One way or another, ashes will remain.

Penelope, of course, knew what Ares was referring to: leaving the Cyclops alive despite him unofficially declaring war on her and her crew. She had defeated him, and yet Penelope broke the one universal rule every Greek warrior had sworn upon whilst praying to a War God’s name:

Never leave your enemy alive.

“That's not a teaching of mine.”

Disregarding the etiquettes of war by showing mercy to an adversary, leaving them to live with such debasing shame and humiliation for the rest of their demeaning lives, it was the greatest insult one could possibly bestow as a warrior of Greece!

The biggest insult one could personally bestow as a student of Ares.

“You've grown dull, your dead friends can attest.”

“Hey!” Penelope yelled out, the loss of her comrades, her Circes, still very much a painful open wound.

Ares grew annoyed but did not physically react to this outburst, for Penelope’s momentary reaction fueled by pure emotion was too late in the God’s eyes.

“Put all your weakness aside. You're a warrior meant to lead the rest!”

Everything about Penelope’s natural personality: her discipline, her patience, her resilience, her intellect; combined with the courage and strength bestowed upon by Ares’ blessing and strict training regime, Penelope should have emerged as a warrior greater than the likes their world had ever previously seen!

So why…

“I don't know where I went wrong!”

Why did she still manage to disappoint him so, in the most dishonorable and degrading manner!?

“But I warned ya', and you failed the test!”

In only one day Penelope had ignored 20 years of Ares' personal guidance and instruction. She turned a blind eye to her responsibility as the ultimate warrior of her kind. She dismissed the warnings the God was so kind to bequeath to her far too many times.

Enough was enough!

Penelope has disobeyed him for the last time…

“So now I'm gone!”

[CRACK!

The invisible pendulum struck the hourglass; a small crack formed in the glass.

Neither God nor mortal noticed.]

Penelope’s eyes widened while Ares’ narrowed.

“This way, you'll know what your place is, this way, you can't cross the line!”

Battles may be fuelled by emotion but even the ugliest sides of war were built on obedience. There was only so much and so long the God could restrain himself for.

No longer physically able to hide his immense anger, Ares let out everything he was holding back from the moment Penelope thought herself to be above a God’s wisdom.

“This way, when all is over you'll keep yours and I'll keep mine!”

Throughout their 20 years together, from their highest highs to even their lowest lows, not once had Ares directed such genuine hostility toward Penelope.

Now, in this moment of disrespect and disgrace, Penelope felt for the first time what it was like to be on the receiving end of the God of War’s brutality.

How arrogant she'd been to believe she would've ever been spared from a God's wrath, favour be damned. Friendship or hostility, a God's favour will always be proportionate to its antithesis.

“This way, you won't disappoint me, this way, you won't waste my time!”

Ares truly wasn’t holding himself back. No longer were they standing together in the eye of a storm. No, she was but a measly vessel helpless to turn against mountainous tidal waves. Penelope had to ground herself, focus on her stability, to keep those devastating winds from knocking her to the ground.

That force of nature wanted nothing more than to knock Penelope off her righteous pedestal, willing to do anything to show her just how vulnerable she truly was.

“This way, I'll close the door, consider this as my goodbye!”

[CRACK!

Another strike from pendulum to hourglass.

The crack, still small, began to grow larger.]

Ares turned, thinking the foreign feeling inside him must have been “satisfaction” from having unleashed his ever-growing criticisms upon the mortal woman. He was just about ready to disappear, ready to return the mortal to reality so she can wallow in her shame-

When a mirthless, humorless chuckle stopped him in his tracks.

“That’s just like you, why should l be surprised?” Penelope’s voice was filled with a venomous bite, one Ares never heard in all his time by her side. “Brutal and prideful and vain!”

Penelope knew deep down this wasn’t a good idea, that instigating a God never ended in a mortal’s favor.

But who else was there to blame but Ares himself?

HE was the one who chose her, not the other way around!

HE was the one who transformed her from a naturally kind, patient, and rational girl to the stubborn, reckless, emotional woman she was today!

HE was the one who started her down this path, who ripped her away from the quiet, watchful role she would have been content to play in another life!

All of this, every moment and action in Penelope’s life indisputably laced with anything but peace, all of it started with the God who dared to reduce her to a disappointment!

No, Ares had his chance to voice his complaints. Now, it was Penelope’s turn!

“Unlike you, everytime someone dies, I'm left to deal with the strain!”

72. 72 women to many whose lives were lost mere minutes ago, one of whom was the life of her beloved Circes…

Ares was a God of War, Penelope knew she couldn’t fault him for thinking so little of mortal’s deaths when the consequences of their hubris led to the very bloodshed he was destined to oversee. But how dare he try and make her seem incompetent, when her actions ensured the survival of her remaining women whilst his command would have guaranteed more lives to meet an untimely end!

Penelope just couldn’t risk it, even if it meant disgracing her patron God.

“What's a title a God’s blessing could lend, If I’ll never sleep at night!”

Even now, mere moments after the deaths of her sisters, Penelope could already hear their cries for help ringing in her ears.

Did that really mean nothing to him?

“I'll remind you I saw you as a friend!” Penelope couldn’t see Ares’ face behind his helm, as the God rarely allowed another to gaze into his rawest unconcealable emotions; if she could, she would have noticed the way Ares’ glare faltered, even if only for a second. “But now we're done!”

“This way, you're out of my head now! This way, you won't stain my life!”

Sure Ares had “gifted” Penelope many blessings and advantages in their 20 years together: he taught her how to properly fight and bear arms, filled her with courage and strength even in the most mundane of days, empowered her to do what no woman before her time ever thought she could accomplish…

What good did they truly do for her, when the only purpose behind those so-called gifts was for his sake and benefit, not hers?

“This way, when all is done, you're out of sight and out of mind!”

Even if she had enjoyed and found comfort from his presence in the beginning, all it did now was fill her with an overwhelming sense of anxiety and dread.

For the past decade, everytime Ares appeared before her something terrible always occurred shortly after.

Being drafted to fight in this war, spilling blood, guilty and innocent, by order of the Gods, having to leave behind her kingdom, her home, her husband and daughter…

At least with him gone, Penelope no longer had to worry about “divine intervention” plaguing her life any longer!

Not for the first time, her mind thought of Achilles. Swift-footed Achilles, Aristos Achaion, the demigod promised eternal glory and achieving it through suffering that would've been just as eternal had it not been for the remnants of mortality in his blood.

If Ares really wanted to abandon Penelope, to cast her aside like a child would a pet once they’ve lost interest, all for the sole purpose of dismissing glory and cherishing a life that wasn’t her own, then let him!

“This way, you get what you wanted, this way, you can save your time! This way, you close the door and have your damn goodbye!”

[CRACK!

Yet again the pendulum struck the hourglass.

The crack was spreading at an alarming degree.]

This time Penelope was the one to turn her back. Not to leave mind, as she had neither the knowledge nor power to enter and leave Ares’ realm without his say.

She just no longer had the patience to entertain his small-minded ideals any mor-

SWISH!

Ares swiftly appeared in front of Penelope once more and the woman swore the tusks on his helmet were larger, the nails of his fists sharper.

The place of his eyes, a dark void to the outside world because of the helm, went from betraying nothing to glowering daggers of glowing red orbs.

“You’re not looking for a mentor, I'm not looking for a friend!”

Ares towered over Penelope, staring down at her with such close proximity. The tone of his words carried with them a savage animosity filled to the absolute brim with pure contempt. Still, there was this extra weight to his words; like he wasn’t just directing this argument toward her…

“I mistook you for a general, what a waste of effort spent!”

Penelope tensed as well, fists clenching and breath huffing in a similar manner to the man who was once her most trusted confidant.

The meager mortal woman forced herself to stiffen her posture, making herself taller and unwilling to back down, meeting the God of War face-to-face with her eyes never leaving his. Penelope felt a rush of boldness, one that was entirely of her own creation.

This level of pure fearlessness brought with it an uncontrollable level of unheeding, it left no room for discipline, patience, or thinking…

“At least I know what I’m fighting for while you can never be sated-”

Penelope thought only of her husband and daughter. She thought only of Circes. She thought only of her 72 lost soldiers and her 528 remaining…

With all this, with only this in mind, she thought not of the out of control words that came blurting from her lips-

“Though you claim you're so much stronger, why’s your life spent so hated? You're hated!”

[CRAAACK!

One final blow to the hourglass’ structure, so much stronger and more devastating than any of the pendulum's previous strikes.

The glass frame was so close to permanent destruction, barely a single grain of black and red sand visible from the sheer amount of damage to the sand clock.]

Penelope’s breathing, hard and heaving at first, froze immediately. Her eyes widened, gleaming with realization as she just registered what exactly she had used against the God.

Ares said nothing in retaliation, his breath only hitched in response.

No more did he exude that familiar aura of intimidation, no longer were his eyes glowing that eerie shadowy red. He stiffened, no longer towering or looking down on the mortal. In fact, he didn’t do anything. A freezing fire is more disconcerting than a blazing one.

All he did was stare. For in that one moment of surprise, that one instance of genuine distress from the blow of mere words that it left a scar more impactful than the ones displayed proudly on his figure, it left the God spiraling through an unfamiliar series of emotions.

Regret.

Shame.

Insecurity.

Emotions thought to be insusceptible to the very personification of courage and strength.

However, just as quickly as this bout of hurt appeared, it was replaced with stoicism.

Ares’ head lowered while his stance stilled, no longer tense but still hardened. His arms lay at his side, they would’ve appeared lax had his spearhead not straightened further in his grip.

Even Ares’ voice, once filled with pure passion fueled by his beliefs, expressed not a single hint of emotion.

“One day, you'll get what I'm saying. One day, you might understand. One day…”

Ares finally raised his head, the shadows of his eyes powerful in all their lack of gaze.

For the first time in her life, Penelope understood what it was like to feel unnerved by the God of War.

“But not today, for after all you're-”

Not a man…

Voices came from everywhere and nowhere, each one impossible not to recognize.

71 various women…

Circes…

They forced Penelope to remember what she was, what should we always be, no matter what it was she did to try and be more.

Odysseus…

Telemachas…

She was no man nor legend. She was just another woman in over her head, one who would soon be left to fend for her own.

“This day, you sever your own head, this day, you spark the pyre!”

The edge returned to Ares’ voice; Penelope, drawing in her remorse, did not notice the exaggeration to Ares’ tone, as if he was putting on some performance.

But for who?

“This day, you lost it all, consider this as my goodbye!”

Ares turned away to leave, this time for good.

He ignored the falter in his step.

Oh…

“Consider this as my goodbye!”

Oh…

The various voices surrounding Penelope, assaulting her in a barrage of painful comfort and raw dread that enveloped her entire being, spiritual and physical.

Whether they were trying to empower her with hope or drown her with guilt, who could tell?

“This is my goodbye!”

Oh…

Penelope reached a hand out, wanting to grasp but unable to keep hold. She opened her mouth, wanting to cry out but unable to shout.

Everything but Penelope’s inner self stood by and allowed Ares to leave.

“Consider this as my goodbye…”

Oh…

Another falter, this time in Ares’ innermost deepest desires.

This needed to be done, he told himself. Mortals only exist to serve the Gods, he repeated as he did for the past 20 years, and once they no longer serve a use there is no penalty in discarding them.

Ares was never going to be the kind of deity who was revered, one who was truly understood by mortals, much less loved; he needed to accept this, even if he thought for a moment Penelope could be the outlier…

NO!

Ares can’t waver, not with this one! He cannot and will not involve himself with Penelope any longer!

No matter how many times he’d have to say it, even if he had to repeat it every day for the rest of his immortal life, this was Ares’ final goodbye!

“This is my goodbye!”

Ares disappeared in an instant, the sound of whirling desert winds accompanying his departure. All that was left as proof of his presence was a scattering of those damn feathers, the scent of burning torches and carrion, and a slight ringing through her bones. If Penelope had to describe it, the sensation felt akin to the precision of a blade sliding across a whetstone.

The desert landscape slowly began to fade from view.

That signature red hourglass had cracked so much and so badly it was hardly recognizable. That invisible pendulum worked overtime striking the poor object, trying to break it once and for all. But, the hourglass refused…

Penelope did not have time to linger on the God of War’s sandglass. It, like everything else within the God of War’s realm, disappeared after a single blink.

Just like every other time she was dismissed from the realm, Penelope found herself in the same time and moment of before she was summoned; this time, the deck of her ship.

Just like every other time after Penelope and Ares spoke in his realm, no matter the length, it was as if not a moment passed once she returned to reality.

This time, though, the only thing that rang over and over in Penelope’s ears were Ares’s final words.

Goodbye.

#epic the musical #the odyssey #swap au #warrior!penelope #penelope of ithaca #ares #my goodbye #canon divergent au #canon rewrite #canon compliant #my fic

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thewalrusespublicist · 5 days ago

Note

Hey, I've loved your insight on John and Paul's relationship after the split. Can I ask you a different question?

Namely, do you think Paul is autistic?

You don't have to answer if you don't like.

Hi Anon!

Sorry I’ve taken so long to respond to this one, I wanted to dedicate some proper time to it as it’s a more complicated one and I wanted to give it the thought it deserves. I’m sort of in the best and worst position to answer this. The best in the fact that I am diagnosed autistic (probably AuDHD but that’s a whole other thing) and present atypically (good eye contact, empathetic, have learnt to read people fairly well etc.) and in a way that many people don’t realise I’m autistic until they know me well or I tell them. However, that almost means I’m in the worst position because the possibility that I’ll potentially project traits onto Paul is much higher than the average person. But I’ll try to be as unbiased as I can.

To properly judge whether Paul is autistic you would of course need a specialist who can assess his behaviour in-depth so all of this is of course speculative. From my own-brand observations and perspective, I think I would be comfortable saying that there is a distinct possibility that Paul is neurodivergent. This could be AuDHD or just straight up ADHD or PTSD (there’s a lot of symptom overlap between the three and childhood ptsd leads to restructures in the brain). This due to the following traits that I’ve noted:

Inability to appropriately assess risk (posing lying half on a diving board over an empty swimming pool anyone?? And so many pictures of him perilously close to edges)

High need for stimulus

Perfectionist yet unable to finish things properly (Paul himself admits there’s albums that are clearly unfinished)

Trouble expressing himself

Constant fidgeting (Ringo said he was unable to keep still)

Hyperfixations that get in the way of other tasks

Intense procrastination despite periods of aforementioned hyperfixation (sorry George Martin no I haven’t done the entire score for a film until the last minute I’ve been hanging with John)

Synthesia

Potential hyper mobility (let’s just climb onto the packing in one step)

Maaaybbbeee potential co-ordination issues (man can’t really dance and when he learnt to ride he started cycling backwards)

Rejection sensitivity

Rigid thinking

Insensitivity

Distracted focus (his dad talking about him watching television and doing his homework at the same time)

Tics and stims

A musical savant

So there’s quite a bit there tbh when taken all together. That being said without proper assessment it would be impossible to say which of the three he would fall under, if any. Once again though, he shares traits that I recognise in myself and my neurodivergent friends and wouldn’t be at all surprised if he was.

On that note, I hope you don’t mind me mentioning this anon but I think you’ve asked quite a few people this question on here? I’m guessing (again apologies if this is wrong) that you’re also autistic and relate to Paul in some way that is quite personal to you? I only bring it up as I’ve been there, being autistic is hard and a lonely experience at times and finding decent representation for high functioning autism is near impossible. I would say even if Paul is autistic or not, he’s still a great example of how having these traits in no way stops you from being loved, valued and even adored. Paul has lived an incredibly successful life partially because of his traits of neurodivergency, regardless of label that in itself is pretty great to see. So yeah whilst I wouldn’t want to put a label on it, I think he might be in our general camp and I’m really happy to potentially have him here.

#Sorry if I made too many assumptions in that last para #Submarine Postbox #Anon #ask

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martina-electro · 1 year ago

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i am once again procrastinating on tasks (multishipping edition)

#mdarc #rain code #rain code spoilers #yomi hellsmile #makoto kagutsuchi #hitman zilch #seth burroughs #guillaume hall #martina electro #(adds character tags for once) yeehaw.....#oh uh.#makoyomi #hellxander #hellectro #electrohall #whatever you'd call the nightmare throuple. idk #i am so sorry for the cube one (but also not really)

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studentessa-socit · 21 days ago

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Structured - daily planner app

Why I needed it

Some of you might already know that I am not a very organized person, I struggle with motivation and time-blindness: I am always procrastinating, and I am always late.

I have been trying to fix this issues for a while now, and I made small improvements, but I never seem to get myself together once for all.

After having yet another breakdown about this my boyfriend looked up tools that could help me further and suggested me this app.

How does it work

The app helps visualize time, it makes you write down the tasks you want to plan for the day and choose the time of beginning and end, you can check every task when you are done with it, and the day alongside with every planned event change color with the passing of time.

(It has a lot of other helpful functions but this is the basis)

How is it helping

It's a very simple time blocking app that allows me to understand on a concrete level how much time it will take to do a certain thing and, most important, how can it be coordinated with everything else I planned.

Since I am on the app (I downloaded it 3 weeks ago) it never happened again that I couldn't do everything I needed to simply because there wasn't enought time to do everything I planned, it is making it also a little bit easier to not loose track of time while doing nothing because I am more conscious of when I and how I have to do something, I also feel more in charge of my days and I feel like my days and weeks are starting to have a structure (also known as routine) (i never had one before)

What is it missing

While structured is helping a lot with my time-blindness and allowing me to plan in a more efficient way, it is not helping much with my motivation.

If I have to attend a lecture, wipe the floor or catch the train these are tasks that I cannot avoid, because I either had an agreement with other people or will face great consequences if I don't do it. But if I planned to read a book, or to take a walk, these are things I want to do for myself and no one will make me face consequences, so it happens frequently that I procrastinate and avoid the self care tasks because my motivation is already lower by the fact that I am the only one in charge of them.

Conclusion

This app is a very good tool to better my perception of time and my organization skill, and I suggest it to you if you have similar struggles that mine because I literally feel like it's changing my life for the better.

But also, my difficultes probably run way deeper that what could be fixed with a great planner app, and I suggest to you, like I am doing, to reach out to mental health professionals if you feel like your struggles with time management are debilitating.

#studyblr #realistic studyblr #planner #organization #time management #goals #study blog #uni life #study inspiration #study motivation #productivityboost #study plan #study challenge

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tgmsunmontue · 4 months ago

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What to write weekend...?

Friday again, start of my weekend.

MY WEEKEND WRITING GOALS

Finish SoS chapter (and post it)

Finish OAA epilogue (and post it)

Finish two other chapters for two others fics and post them (ONE DOWN! Have updated To Wake, Perchance to Dream now).

Explanation on how "What to Write Weekend" works and fic descriptions under the read more because it's long... Once you know you know though.

If your curious about wordcounts etc. I have a spreadsheet here.

NUMBERS:

Online and Anonymous - 15/16 Hangster who are anonymous Grindr buddies for YEARS. (Tumblr post)

Sagas of Solitude 8/? - IceMav with side Hangster AU - angsty Nepo!Baby

CURRENT LETTERS:

A, B, C, D, E, G, H, I, J, K, L, M

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

If you need it, here's an explanation of how it works:

You pick 1-3 of the above and either:

Message

Send an ask (Anon is on)

with the letters/Numbers of the fic/s you wish would hurry up and get finished/posted already. (Yes, you can pick the same one three times - some of these fics are that close to getting parts/chapters finished that would be enough to tip them over, you also don't have to pick more than one).

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

I WILL WRITE AT LEAST 250 WORDS for each one you pick. I reply to let you know when it is done. I've also started tracking it in a spreadsheet.

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

Numbers indicate fics I am consciously working on updating/completing, and likely have a completion date in mind.

Letters are fics that are often getting completed because people ask for me to work on them through things like this. (I usually do this every weekend).

Doing this keeps me on task and makes me accountable. It stops me from procrastinating and I really appreciate people providing their numbers.

THANK YOU!

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A) Upon which our souls touch - 3/? - Hangster TGM AU involving dragon riders and shape shifters and fantasy... Seriously, I wouldn't vote for this one because my kids ask about it almost daily so... it gets attention regardless.

B) I'd know you anywhere - Bradshaw Twins - Hangster (Tumblr post)

C) To wake, perchance to dream - 2/? - Hangster Jake wakes up in the future, gets a glimpse of what their life could be and then wakes up back right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment (e.g. TGM). (Tumblr post and the beginning of the fic)

D) Together or not at all... (SEQUEL) - Hangster - years after Javy/Nat get together they think their best friends (Hangman and Rooster) could maybe try dating each other. It'll either end in disaster or not.

E) Cyclone/Maverick - Cyclone is struggling to deal with being attracted to the most annoying person he's ever met. Why does he like him so much?

G) Celebrity Chef Bradley

H) From the top - 1/? - an Ice/Mav epistolary fic where Jake and Bradley matchmake them, not realising exactly who it is they've matched together.

I) Life is too short to waste time matching socks... 3/? The peach and eggplant socks as an anonymous gift as an incredibly unsubtle hint that someone would like to fuck them. (tumblr idea unspooling here...)

J) Barista Jake who cannot spell Bradley's name. (HERE)

K) Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide - 4/?Transformers cross-over.

L) Hangster Soulmates, Bodyguard (leftover from the Bingo...)

M) IceMav Florist/Undercover Agent AU (also leftover from Bingo)

I'm working on some chapters to get them finished because I like posting chapters.

#what to write weekend #writing and wrangling woes

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thewandererh · 2 days ago

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Exhibit A: Procrastination, Gratification, and Initiative

and what it means regarding dopamining, and living life to the fullest.

i am not a professional! this is my interpretation of feelings i (and most likely many others) have experienced.

the meaning in life

is defined by what you do

and how you move through

- me. just now ✌️☺️🤳📸

think of a time you had things to do. everyone has a time like that. in that time, you know you have things to do—but you’re distracted by something. perhaps by doomscrolling, or planning something with friends to avoid homework, or needing to tell someone something vital. they are hard situations…but why?

your body evaluates that you’d feel better once you’ve completed the goal you have to do. whether it be by going outside, finishing that assignment, or talking to that someone. however, doing it would have you leave the established comfort you’re enveloped in now. you don’t want to change your situation because you’re comfortable, so you continue to recline. maybe you try to ignore the thought by busying yourself further, but it never works.

you are now conscious that you are wasting your time. everything becomes stressful. just one more video. just one more game. just one more minute. you’ve connected with your body, listened to its needs, but put them off. declining the offer for the sake of reclining with just one more video, game, or minute. the constant dopamine surge of your comfortable situation makes it hard to leave, and you try to reinforce that. you know you’ll be happier with the task done, but you try to make up for that ‘lost gratification’ in your current situation. you could be happier, but you don’t want to make a change that would alter your situation. so you bury yourself deeper with meaningless work all to try and find meaning.

this is procrastination.

it’s a spiral of meaningless longevity that can last for hours. and once one is conscious of it, it turns your moments of forced dopamine into a bad time filled with only regret and misery.

“you could be doing something more fulfulling.” says your body. your body knows your needs better than you do sometimes, so why not listen to it?

we humans fear change. we humans like when we know where we are in life, and knowing that it’s comfortable. knowing that it’s safe. who knows what could happen while you do that task? you’ll have to sit up, actually move again, and paramountly, actually stress about something. you’ve have to use energy you don’t think you have, or could reserve for something else. you can watch or play some more with that energy instead, so why not?

change has to happen. especially when it’s for the better.

your body is telling the truth when it says you’ll be happier after you finish that task.

while you try to finish that task, you’ll be doing something different. this is understandably scary! but you’re listening to yourself instead of suppressing your wishes and bottling your feelings.

this time-wasting activity you’re so caught up in is so addictive because it involves instant dopamine. your brain wants more, so you keep giving energy into an activity that, as a bonus, helps you forget the world and your problems alongside it.

the task you need to do is a transitional period to dopamine. it’s an effortful wait that feels unbearable at first glance because you’re so enveloped in the dopamine-generating-machine (dopamining??). but this dopamine is so much more fulfilling that anything you can gather while scrounging deeper into that activity you’re desperate to keep going.

this is gratification.

gratification comes as personal celebration after you’ve completed something. it comes with the dopamine generation, yes, but it’s so much powerful when you’ve worked for it (so it’ll be used as a term in that work-for-it sense). gratification is your body being relieved of pressure and burden because of the effort you’ve put in to better your situation. you feel safer now, less anxious, and more free. you have one less to-do on your list, and that deserves to be celebrated. more will always come, but why not stop for a moment?

this task has stressed you out to the point of desperately avoiding it with meaningless activities. but it’s done now. it’s completed, and it’s all thanks to you. the effort you put into this task could have been any level of difficult, but you did it. whether the task be big or small, you did it. if you had to do it in parts, that’s ok. taking a break between work lets you refocus your thoughts and reflect on what you’ve done, which also summons gratification. you’re working! you’re in the zone! maybe the confetti can wait until after it’s completley done, but you deserve a snack and a brain break (or so).

you feel so great doing something so much better for your stress levels. you’re living life fuller than you did before. before you were suffering by your own hand…but why?

it didn’t have to be like this.

procrastination is caused by being rewarded for not getting things done. dopamining at it’s peak. it’s self-induced, because only you control it. and you have the capacity for changing your situation. here’s how:

this is initiative.

taking initiative is being proactive about your situation. you take opportunities as they come to better your situation; you notice when you’re uncomfortable, reflect, and make a change. sometimes keeping in touch with your body is hard because of the face-paced nature of dopamining and procrastination, but your body will never stop reaching out. this is why when you take a break, you realize how hungry or etc you are. take a moment after a video, game match, or something of the like finishes. breathe. take a moment to remember and reevaluate yourself. how long has it been? what do you need to get done? why would you rather avoid it? and even, how can you make it easier?

taking initiative is listening to yourself when you start to feel uncomfortable. track the feeling, and understand where it’s coming from instead of pushing it away. assess your situation. what is easy, and what would make you happier? think twice—dopamining is a habit that’s hard to break.

taking initiative is taking a deep breath, getting up, and looking at your task. examining the difficulty and breaking it up into parts if necessary. maybe you need music/ambience if it’s monotonous, but try not to make that too distracting. get a snack and water (etc) if you feel fatigued or discomforted. examine the big picture in steps, and reward yourself when you’re finished.

breaking out of a dopamining session means a lot. you remember your body and ergo what you need. it might take some time to develop the habit of checking in on yourself, but it is possible. you are not lazy. you are not a time-waster. you can live life to the fullest when you chase the proper gratification.

when you break out of dopamining, even just a session of it, potential opens up. even before you finish your task, you recognize what you can do. you could go on a walk, draw, write, read, organize, explore some music, do some more chores if you’re in the zone, and so much more. and then when you finish that task that feels so daunting, the gratification feels earned. it feels different. it feels personal. you just did something that mattered more. and steps like that build persistence, self-awareness, and proactivity. steps like that make life fuller.

_…-~^*^~-…_ _…-~^*^~-…_ _…-~^*^~-…_

helpful articles that make points i don’t + stand strong at the possibility i make a mistake in this post!

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gh0stgirl000 · 3 months ago

Note

HEY POOKIEEE!!

I was wondering if I could get some fluff with Theo, were the reader and him are close friends or dating (Idc) but they live together and the reader is trying to cook and he is just being a nuisance

Anywayyyy love youuuu 😘

-🪼

A/n: HEY POOKIEEEEEEE!!! I love you more!! I'm gonna try my best to make it what you want since i obviously can't let you beta read it this time, wouldn't wanna ruin the surprise... And a note to everyone else i'm aware i've never stated who and what i'll write for i'm so sorry but i'm gonna work on clearing that up this weekend! Love you all, enjoy!! -Bella <3

Summary: Trying to focus on setting up for a Halloween party with Theo Raeken around might just be the most difficult thing anyone's ever been tasked with.

Pairing: Theo Raeken x reader? idk i don't use Y/n and its in third person sooooo

Warnings: allusions to drug use because i'm a huge Bob Marley fan

Genre: fluff

She should've known better, trying to get things done when he was around. She also should've accounted for the fact that he's more distracting than a traffic cone at midnight when she adopted his procrastinating habits. She had less than 4 hours to cook enough food to feed the congregation of teenagers she was having over for Halloween, and here Theo was, literally sticking his nose in everything.

He stretched his arm across the island, dipping his finger in the bowl of icing she was currently mixing food coloring into, licking it off his finger with a smirk that made her roll her eyes. "He knows exactly what he's doing." she thought to herself, trying to pull the bowl out of reach while simultaneously forcing a "Theo! Quit it, that's gotta be the second time!" through a laugh she failed to stifle. His smile grew as he pulled his finger away from his mouth "Third, actually. Figured third times the charm, but I guess not" he shrugged, his grin never faltering.

She threw him a dead-panned look, furiously mixing the icing when she caught a glimpse of the clock on the stove over his shoulder. Finally she was satisfied with the color, setting the bowl aside and glancing at her recipe, smacking Theo's less than stealthy hand away from the food without a single glance his way. His gaze lingered on her side profile, studying every curve of her face and the flicking of her eyes across the page, his once teasing grin softening into a genuine smile.

She caught his eyes in her peripheral, a soft redness spreading along her neck and a nervous smile gracing her lips. "What?" she questioned, her accusatory tone juxtaposed to the fog he left in her brain. "You're pretty" The confession made her stomach turn, but she ignored the feeling, reaching up and smacking the back of his head. He winced, squeezing his eyes shut at the impact. "Focus, Raeken! You told me you wanted to help." He chuckled at her reaction, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I am helping. I'm moral support." He stated matter-of-factly. She rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time that evening "well why don't you take your morals and go support the cookies when they come out of the oven"

Theo raised his eyebrows at her attempt to be witty, but she ignored it, grabbing one of his shoulders and turning his body to face the stove. He heard a drawer open behind him before an oven mitt clocked him in the back. He scoffed, turning to face her again, but her back was already turned towards the rest of her projects. He decided it would be best to be at least a little helpful before he wrecked havoc on their shared kitchen. Theo leaned down and swiped the oven mitt off the tile, begrudgingly pulling the oven door open and setting the hot pan on the stove top.

Now that he was done being helpful for the night, Theo turned back towards his girlfriend, reaching into the bag of flour to her left as quietly as he could. He hesitated for a second, deciding where he should launch his attack on the girl. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he tapped her on the shoulder with his empty hand. The second she turned around, he lightly smacked his flour ridden palm across the entirety of her face, immediately breaking into laughter at her reaction. Neither of their expressions lasted long, as she reached for the flour soon after, clapping large puffs of the substance into his freshly washed hair.

One thing led to another and the pair were grabbing handful after handful of the powder. Soon they, along with the entire kitchen and some of the dining room, looked like they'd seen snow early this year. Finally having enough of the madness, Theo grabbed the girls wrists swiftly, pulling her into his chest and wrapping his own arms around her waist. Theo flashed her his ever-present grin, reaching up to brush some of the flour from her face. In a move somehow more cliche than the last, they both leaned in, studying the others eyes, their lips about to meet. The only thing that broke the two out of their trance was the monstrous ring of the front door bell.

The pairs eyes widened at once, and Theo's smile quickly dropped as they both came to the same conclusion; they were fucked. They stared at each other in shock for a moment before they both broke into obnoxious laughter, neither of them breathing properly when they finally opened the front door to none other than Liam Dunbar, who held a very proud, albeit very confused smile, having heard the commotion from behind the door.

"Looks like baking is on the agenda for all of us this Halloween" He grinned at his own (stupid) joke, pulling a joint out of his pocket and heading for the kitchen, ready to save his two best friends from themselves once again.

#theo raeken #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken fluff #teen wolf #scott mcall #liam dunbar #stiles stilinski #fluff #cooking #baking #fanfic

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imagineddworld · 2 years ago

Text

Not so innocent game of truth or dare

Pairing: Xavier Thrope x reader

Summary: Unbeknownst to them, Xavier and the reader are crushing on one another. In a not so innocent game of truth or dare some feelings come to the surface. Will something beautiful blossom from this?

Word count: 3735 (3.7k)

Warnings: mention of drinking alcohol, sexual tension

Autor’s note: So yeahh.. I once again am obsessed with Wednesday, especially this boy. So I could not not write something about him. Since i base all my fics on me, i made the reader have ADHD like me. I hope you don’t mind. Anyway, enjoy! Also my apologies for not making this gender neutral, I had forgotten about it during writing this fic. But the gender is only implied, not specifically stated.

You sat at your desk, studying while listening to music. Your foot was tapping along to the beat as the melody blasted through your headphones. It helped you focus on the tedious task of writing an essay about some boring plant. That was till your favorite song came on. You couldn’t help yourself but dance along to it. You jumped up from your chair, wildly swinging your arms and bouncing around the room. Sitting still had caused a lot of pent up energy to be stuck in your body, making its way through your veins like a string of electricity. As you moved your body along the music, you felt the overload of energy decrease. You danced till you finally deemed yourself calm enough to sit still again, or as still as possible. You had to switch positions every few minutes, bouncing your leg and fiddling with some stupid object in your hand as your wrote down the information.

The words were flowing from your pen. Every once in a while you browsed through the pages of the book, looking up new information that you could use in your essay. You were engulfed in your own work bubble, not aware of your surroundings. This caused you to miss the knock on your door. The intruder sighed at the sight of your studying figure , walking further into the room until they stood next to your desk. You only noticed their presence when your headphones were abruptly taken from your head. This made you jump up, nearly hitting the person square in the face. “What the hell, Enid”, you exclaimed in an annoyed tone, slowly lowering your arms. She watched you with wide eyes, holding her hands up in surrender. “Sorry”, she gave you an apologetic look. ‘What do you want?”, you asked her in a monotone voice, not pleased being interrupted while you finally were able to concentrate on something. She raised her eyebrow, questioning if you were really asking her such a thing. In response, you lightly shook your head while scrunching your eyebrows together in confusion. “It’s Friday”, she exclaimed, as if it were obvious. But this statement didn’t gave you any more information. “I’m aware, yes”, you still held the same confused expression on your face, not getting where she was going with this conversation. “You’re not supposed to study on a Friday. Let’s party, have some fun”. Her exciting energy was contagious, lighting your sour mood in an instance. “Temping, but I decline your offer’, you gave her a small smile, while taking your headphones back from her hand that was still holding onto them. You were about to put them on your head again, walking back towards your desk as she stopped you in your tracks. “Oh come on, (y/n). Please come hang out with us”, she begged, putting on her best puppy eyes. “I can’t”. “How so?” Enid wasn’t going to give up so easily. This was going to be a long night. You sighed. “Because of this stupid essay. I need to get a head start on it otherwise I won’t be able to finish it in time”. She scoffed at your statement. “Of course, you will. You are one of the smartest person I know.” You chuckled: “I didn’t state that I wasn’t smart. It’s just that writing this essay is such a soul-destroying task that my ADHD-brain will just procrastinate it until I only have a few hours left until the deadline.” The blond girl nodded in understanding, but wasn’t giving up. “I’ll help you finish it.. Just come hang out with us for now”. You let out another sigh, pondering over the offer. It was tempting, very tempting. Any activity that wasn’t writing that stupid essay sounded good to you at the moment.

“We’re all going to hang out in Xavier’s dorm, drinking booze...” Enid wiggled her eyebrows at you, knowing that you wouldn’t want to miss out on hanging around Xavier. You regretted telling her the truth about your silly crush on the so called tortured artist. But in all honesty, she had infiltrated your life. If she wasn’t so curious, watching your every move as you were around him, your crush would’ve still been a secret. Ever since she found out that information, she had been teasing you. As for the current situation, she used it to persuade you, knowing that it would be hard to decline her offer if you knew Xavier would be there. You opened your mouth to speak, but she gave you no time actually for a respons. “Whatever, you’re going with me anyway”, she spoke while grabbing a hold of your wrist, lightly dragging you out of your dorm room. “Enid stop. At least give me the chance to change clothes”. She looked over her shoulder, eyeing you up and down - all while she was still dragging you through the halls. “You look amazing, no need to change”. You doubted her, seen that you wore a very oversized sweater on top of your dress. Your legs were covered in nylon stockings as your feet were covered in fussy sock. None of the colours matched one another. It was as if you just had thrown on any piece you found the quickest. You briefly looked at your feet, realizing that you weren’t wearing any shoes. “I’m not even wearing shoes”, you exclaimed. “Doesn’t matter, we’re not going outside.” You let out a loud sigh, knowing that arguing with the blond werewolf was not going to bring you anywhere. She would only let go of your wrist until you arrived at Xavier’s dorm. So you let yourself get dragged along the cold halls of Nevermore.

Once upon arrival, Enid knocked excitedly on the door. You heard light music and chatter coming from behind the door. It took a few moments for the door to be opened. Xavier’s tall figure greeting the two of you once it did. He smiled at you both, opening the door a little further to let you in. Enid hopped towards the others, quickly conversing with them. As you went to enter the room Xavier spoke up: “didn’t expect you to come”. He had a small smile adorning his face while his warm eyes looked into yours. “I really didn’t have a choice”, you spoke in a monotone voice. You scolded Enid in your head for allowing you to wear such an outfit as you went to meet up with your friends, specifically Xavier. He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, trying to make sense of your answer. You nodded your head towards Enid, silently communicating that it was her doing. He gave a sign of understanding. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.” You offered him a small smile before continuing to make your way into the room, not sure how to respond to such a comment. It’s not that you didn’t understand the social structures. It was actually due to an overload of possible ways to respond. Your head came up with multiple replies. Choosing one was just too tedious, so you opted for not reacting at all.

The beginning of the evening went by slow. You didn’t say much. You listened to the others, swaying your head along to the music while drinking some of the booze they had sneaked into Nevermore. You sat on the ground, leaning against the side of Xavier’s bed. This way you had an overview of everyone. Enid was sat between Ajax and Wednesday. The love triangle being painfully obvious. The two of them were battling for Enid’s attention, even though Wednesday wouldn’t admit to that. She refused to allow herself to feel any sort of those type of feelings, gagging at the thought of them. But she knew that blond werewolf had ignite something inside of her, to her dismay.

A bit further into the room you heard the loud laughing of Bianca and Yoko, both clearly intoxicated by the drinks in their hands. You pulled your attention from them to look at the only person left in the room that you purposefully hadn’t acknowledged much. Xavier sat at his desk, sketching some things in his sketchbook while enjoying the music and occasional gulp of his drink. You allowed your eyes to roam over his figure, adoring how he looked. You tried to observe every detail. From his messy hair to the little specks of brown in his eyes.

As the evening strolled around, things had gotten more interesting. You started to play an innocent game of ‘Truth or dare’. Soon it turned into a more challenging version. As someone didn’t completed their dare or truthfully answered the question, they had to take a shot. The punishment eventually evolved into taking a piece of clothing off. By now you had to get rid of your fussy socks and oversized sweater. Luckily the booze in your system kept you warm, otherwise you would be shivering the whole time.

Dares were thrown at people since barely anyone choose truth. Ajax had to kiss Enid. Afterwards she was dared to kiss Wednesday, much to the girl’s dismay. She might have acted as if she hated to kiss Enid, but you noticed that their lips lingered longer than a normal kiss between best friends would be. You were next, impatiently waiting for your turn. “Truth or dare? Choose wisely”, Bianca asked teasingly. “I always do darling”, you winked at her in a playful demander, “Bring on the challenge”. She laughed at your behavior, pondering over a possible dare to give to you. She was about to open her mouth to speak when Enid interrupted her. “Sit on Xavier’s lap until it’s your turn again”, she smirked at her own brilliance. You shoot her a cold look, knowing what she was trying to do. But you wouldn’t let her win this battle. Two people could play that game. “Sure, if he is okay with that”, you stated calmly while continuing to stare into her eyes, trying to show that she’s not getting underneath your skin. “It’s fine by me”, Xavier spoke softly. This comment pulled your attention, diverting your eyes towards him. You didn’t expect him to accept such a thing. The two of you were close, comfortably hanging out with one another and enjoying each others company. None the less, you two weren’t particularly touchy throughout your friendship. You shared the occasional hug, but that was as far as showing physical affection got.

You stood up, dusting off your dress. Enid was watching you with anticipation, dying to know how the two of you would react to being so close and intimate with the other. Just to annoy her, you took extra long to make your way over to Xavier. Once you reached his desk, standing next to his sitting figure, you made brief eye contact with him. “You sure it’s okay?”, you questioned in a soft voice so only he could hear you. He nodded his head while a kind smile curled his lips upwards. “It is”. With that you sat down on his legs, trying to put as much weight on your own legs. Of course Xavier noticed what you were doing, so he pulled you closer to his chest while shifting your legs over to the side. This way you were sitting sideways on his lap, your arm leaning against his chest. He draped his arm around your waist, resting his large hand just above your hip. At first you felt strange to be in such a close proximity to him. You could feel his breath fanning against your face, causing goosebumps to cover your skin. But the longer you sat on his lap, the more comfortable you felt. The heat of his body was warming yours. The smell of his cologne infiltrating your nose, making you feel intoxicated by him. His thumb was lightly drawing figures on your clothed skin, causing a calming sensation to wash over you. However it didn’t mean that you weren’t restless anymore. You were swinging your legs back and forth while your hands fiddled with the hem of your dress. Every few minutes you shifted in his lap, trying to change positions to have some variety. As you did so, you felt Xavier tense up underneath you. He let out a soft cough, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. After a few more seconds of wiggling around in his lap, his large hand gripped your thigh. This made your movements stop, no longer trying to get into a new comfortable position. “Stop moving, please”, he said quietly in your ear. His breath tickled your skin, making a shiver run down your spine as goosebumps covered your skin again. You looked up at him, only now registering how close your faces were to one another. You had to swallow the small lump down your throat before you could speak. “Sorry”, you mumbled, feeling an odd tension arise in the room - specifically between you and Xavier. Your mind started to drift away from reality, overanalysing the sudden change. The chatter from the others got drown out by your thoughts as your eyes stared off into the distance. Why did he stiffen at your movement? Was he uncomfortable with you on his lap? Your mind was racing a thousand miles an hour, not being able to keep up with all the screaming thoughts.

You were so consumed by your mind that you hadn’t realize the time ticking by. The dares completed by the others went unnoticed by you. You had zoned out the entire time the group went through another round of ‘truth or dare’. You missed Bianca twerking to the music, Yoko admitting her deepest secret to the group and them calling out your name as your turn came up. Xavier lightly shook you, trying to get your attention. “(y/n)?” His hand rubbed up and down your arm. The sensation of his warm skin against yours brought you back to reality. You blinked quickly, trying to register your surroundings as you looked confused around the room. “Someone was deep in trance”, Bianca teased, chuckling lightly at your flustered state. “Yeah, she’s totally intoxicated by him”, Yoko added to the one sided conversation. “Oh come on, let her be. She’s just comfortable up there”, Enid tried to keep the teasing at bay. Only she had the right to tease you about this situation, knowing the depths behind it. “You can stay if you want”, Xavier said, still softly rubbing your arm. “No, it’s okay”, you were trying to make your way of his lap, but his arm stopped your movements. “Please?”, he asked. His voice quietly filled your ears, sending another huge shiver down your spine. You looked back at him with a questioning look, not understanding all the signs he was giving. Perhaps you were reading them wrong.

The group was carefully watching your interaction, intrigued by how it would play out. Well, everyone beside Wednesday. She scrunched her face up in disgust at the lovey dovey stuff. “Ready to take on another dare?”, her monotone voice interrupted the moment. Enid looked annoyed at the girl beside her, lightly hitting her arm. This interruption had caused you to stand up from Xavier’s lap. The cold immediately overtook your body, missing the heat that had been radiating from the tall boy. “Sure why not”, you responded, awkwardly standing next to the desk. “What about staying in Xavier’s lap for the rest of the evening?”, Enid suggested. The rest of the group agreed with her. You looked over at Xavier, silently asking him for permission to return to your spot in his lap. He nodded his head lightly as a bright smile adorned his face.

You were glad to be back in his lap, the warmth of his body already heating up yours. It was comfortable. The odd tension that previously hung between you had decreased to something bearable. However your mind was still wandering, trying to piece together all the signs he had been giving this evening. Something didn’t add up, but you weren’t going to waste more time thinking about it. You decided to just enjoy the moment for what it was.

As the game continued, you felt yourself grow tired. Your head felt heavy, a certain fog started clouding your mind. So without thinking much about it, you laid your head against Xavier’s shoulder. You felt him look down at you, probably questioning himself why you rested your head against him. “Tired?”, he asked softly. “A bit”, you mumbled back, snuggling closer to him. His arm tightened around your waist, holding you close to his chest. After a while he rested his head against yours, being comfortable with your current position. In all honesty he didn’t want to leave this position ever. He finally had you close to him, something that he had been dreaming about for months.

“Xavier”, Ajax’s loud voice filled the room, making said boy jump lightly in his chair. The movement made you jump up too. You lifted your head from his shoulder, your hand resting on his chest to stable yourself. You felt his rapid beating heart underneath your skin, wondering what the reason behind his rapid heartbeat was.

“Truth or dare?” Xavier pondered over the possible outcomes. Everyone was getting tired so the dares weren’t as challenging anymore. What harm would it do to accept another one? “Uhm, dare I suppose”. He saw the gorgon exchanging looks with Enid, both wearing wide grins on their faces. He already hated the decision he made. “I dare you to stare into (Y/n)’s eyes for one minute while your faces are only a few inches apart”. That shouldn’t be so hard, he thought to himself. But boy was he wrong.

You straddled him, both legs at each side of him so you were now facing to him. His arms were comfortably draped around your waist, holding you in place. Your faces were just a few inches away from one another, causing your breath to mingle together. At first Xavier just stared into your eyes, observing all the colours he could find swirling in them. The small little specks in them resembling their own personal galaxy. He could stare at you all day, get lost in your beauty for eternity. He couldn’t stop his eyes from adverting towards your lips every once in a while. They looked so soft. He wondered how it would feel to kiss them, to have them against his. Without registering his moving body, he leaned in closer. It was as if some magnet was pulling him towards you. Just as his eyes darted back to look at your lips, he noticed that you were staring at his lips; licking yours as a reaction. “Like what you see?”, he teased as a wide smile made its way up his face. “Always”, you retorted back, too entranced with his beauty to care about possibly ruining your friendship. You eagerly wanted to close the gap between you two. You wanted to get lost in the feeling, the high of finally being able to kiss him and claiming his as yours.

His hand slowly cupped your cheek, stroking softly against your skin with his thumb. You were less than an inch apart, both itching to finally touch the other. Your eyes fluttered shut as you followed your instinct, slowly moving closer to him. But before anything could happen - before your lips connected - a loud monotone voice interrupted the moment. “Time’s up”, Wednesday announced. “Nooo”, you heard a couple of people respond to the interruption. At that you backed away from Xavier, sad that the moment had been ruined. You had forgotten about your surroundings, getting lost in the longing. Hearing the others biker had pulled you back into reality. A heavy weight settled itself onto your chest. This might had been the only chance to kiss him, to make your dream come true. You awkwardly fiddled with your hands, not daring to look Xavier in the eyes again. For some reason you felt embarrassed, like you were only fooling yourself.

Unbeknownst to you Xavier had a similar battle going on in his mind, blaming himself for not kissing you earlier. He felt as if he had wasted his only chance at getting with the person of his dreams. Seeing you so vulnerable in front of him, broke his heart. He wondered if you were feeling the same emotions as him. Did you want to kiss him as badly as he wanted to kiss you? Was that why you suddenly look so devastated? Before more questions could pop in his mind, he let out a sigh escape from his lips. “Fuck it”, he said underneath his breath, just loud enough for you to pick up on the sound. He tilted your head upwards with his finger, making you look at him. His large hands came to cup your face, before he closed the gap between you two. At first you were too stunned to react, unsure of what to do. You weren’t fully able to register what was currently happening to you. But soon your body reacted on its own, moving your lips along with his. One of your hands went to his hair, while the other grabbed onto his shirt. You melted into his body, craving his touch. This was all you ever wanted.

You broke apart at the sound of your friends whistling and celebrating this sweet moment. It was painful for them to watch you both be so in love with each other, but no one making a move. Your eyes fluttered open, looking deeply into Xavier’s eyes while an idiotic grin made its way onto your face. He mimicked your expression, feeling overjoyed. You felt your cheeks heat up at the realization of what just happened. The kiss was amazing, but you felt embarrassed to express such an intimate moment in the presence of your friends. Their teasing would be unbearable. You groaned at the thought, hiding your face into the crook of Xavier’s neck. This action made him chuckle. He just held you tightly against him, hoping that this moment would last forever. The high of kissing you taking over, no longer caring about the teasing of his friends. He had you close to him and that was all he wanted right now.

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