christopherschreave
King Of Illéa
13 posts
and secretly Poseidon
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christopherschreave · 6 years ago
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King: betrayed…
King: heartbroken…
King: you think you know someone…
Hazel: Dad, we just said we didn’t like dinner!
King: WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU *leaves*
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christopherschreave · 6 years ago
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Yes
vimeo
The selection vines part 2
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christopherschreave · 6 years ago
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I’m very relatable
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Earth is a place that I’ve come to love.
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christopherschreave · 6 years ago
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afternoon
A/N: HELLO. So this has been a rough time and legit everyone has been busy it seems, but hopefully y’all like the challenge posted later today (beware, u will be kinda left on the dark for details of this challenge, but so will your characters). also, hope you will like the next fics. there’s gonna be different perspectives u haven’t seen in the next week. here u got the king, (we present chrisobel to u) and something small at the end from someone else~
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the k i n g
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I looked down at the ball of fur in my arms and scratched his back, making my way to Isobel’s office. It was afternoon, so she was bound to be eating some lunch, pretending to take a break but actually reading over work as she did so.
Cracking the door open once I arrived, I made sure her chair was facing the other way and snuck in. It was getting harder to pull stunts like this, but it was doable. I just had to hide behind the closest couch and wait a few seconds for her to turn back to her food.
Mashed Potato wagged his tail, staring up at me like he was excited for this new game. I smirked back at him and winked, taking a look over the top cushions to make sure Isobel was distracted once more.
I prompted the pup on one of my arms and crawled over to the desk, strategically resting my back against the wood and lifting the puppy into the air. I could hear the low creak of Isobel’s chair as she turned back around to face the side of the desk I was hiding behind.
There was a clear jolt, probably at the sudden sight of a dog peeking over her desk. It didn’t take her long to lean forward and look down at me. I was met with the same smile I’d fallen for ages ago, eyes crinkling at the corners as her cheekbones rose. A hint of coyness behind her eyes just before she rolled them. “Chris, what are you doing with a dog in my office?”
Smiling back, I explained his name was Mashed Potato. She took the dog from my hands and cuddled with it. “Where'd you get him?”
I stood up, leaning with one hand on the desk like a pro. “There’s going to be around 65 dogs in the ballroom today.”
She looked up at me and blinked once. “Um, why?”
“Lady Gabriella thought it was a good way to spend time with Ben.”
“Unique batch of girls.” She let out a small laugh, making me smile as she stood with our potato dog and walked around the desk.
“I figured you would like to join a bit of the fun.”
She stared at the dog for a moment, taking a step closer to me and looking up with hopeful eyes. I’d known she would want to keep it, but I’d brought him along anyway. When I hummed and leaned down to meet the dog’s eye level, he licked my nose in response. “You sure you want to keep him?”
“You can’t deny a dog named Mashed Potato,” she kissed the top of the dog’s head and I stood up straighter, ready to complain.
“Hey, I want a kiss too. He wouldn’t be here if not for me.”
She narrowed her eyes at me and then at the pooch. “Hmm, should I do it Mashed Potato?” M.P simply licked her mouth back and she chuckled, moving her face away from the wild tongue of our guest. “I don’t think you’d want to anymore.”
I made a face at the comment but reached for a tissue to wipe her mouth instead of giving up. She placed a hand on my chest when I was done cleaning dog saliva residue. It was a brief kiss and she parted away with a “thanks.” I smiled down at her, tangling my fingers into her hair and pulled her carefully into a longer kiss. That was until Mashed Potato decided to lick my chin and join the fun.
He clearly didn’t know boundaries.
I laughed, but didn’t pull away fully, our noses still grazing each other. “First it was the children and now it’ll be the dog?” The struggles of a parent.
Her laugh echoed mine and she pet the dog lightly as if that would keep the ball of fur satisfied. “We can give him to the kids every once in a while,” she mumbled, her lips brushing mine before she kissed me again. “Show them what it’s like.”
Sometimes I wished we could just stay in this bubble. Pretend we were nothing but a married couple with normal worries. That wasn’t possible, but we could pretend.
I wrapped an arm around her waist, my thumb tracing circles on the small strands of hair that left her ponytail. “I don’t think he’ll ask them for piggyback rides...or to watch staged plays with sword fights. Seems a little unfair.”
“They’ll have to feed him, walk him, clean up his messes... It’s a start,” one last kiss before we parted. “You can give him a piggyback ride if you really want to.”
I let go of her with a laugh, taking the dog back and walking off to the sofa with him. “I doubt it'll be the same.” Plopping down on the old furniture, I placed M.P on my chest. He wasted no time and tried to climb up my chest to reach my face for more dog kisses, but he wasn’t getting too much progress done and I focused on the ceiling instead.
65 dogs coming to the palace because of the Selection.
Wild things had happened during my Selection. Nothing quite like dogs invading… but thinking about it reminded me these type of things would slowly lead to something.
There’s a very clear drift when you realize one of your kids might be married in the next few years and your youngest might start asking permission to date soon. Suddenly you realize part of your job, that job you got so accustomed to, is coming to an end and you can’t really stop it.
“They turned out okay, right?”
Isobel knew what I was talking about without further explanation, joining me on the couch and crossing a leg over the other as she leaned against me, “I’d say we did a decent job.” Her hand squeezed my arm. “Worried?”
“I just--” I had no real way to end that sentence, so I kissed her hair and took a deep breath. I’d seen Ben rushing around meeting after meeting, but he never approached me with anything. “I wish he'd talk to me about how things are going. I know he's old enough to deal with this, that's why I waited a bit longer for his Selection...but I also know he must struggle with it. I certainly did. It's a weird experience and no one really gets what it's like.” Giving her a knowing look, I added, “You know my dad had nothing good to say when I was confused, but I still asked.”
Her agreement on dad was evident on her scoff, yet she didn’t dwell too much on it this time, thinking more about our eldest. “You know how he is, wanting to handle everything himself. Especially after, well…” Kissing a random girl before this all started? I thought, but waited for her to shake her head and continue. “I’m sure he’ll come to you soon. He always does, in the end.”
I wanted to believe her, but a part of me knew that wasn’t entirely true. It was wishful thinking. Ben always struggled to come to me for help on certain things. Maybe he thought I’d see him as less for it, I still hadn’t figured it out, but a reason he must’ve had.
People say that once your children are adults you have to let them go out into the world and make their own mistakes. I could agree with that, but I didn’t believe that meant you needed to erase yourself from the picture forever. No one is too old or too young for advice. No matter how knowledgeable you believe you are, experience from someone that has lived longer will always add on. Even when the advice is bad... advice it is what it is: A calculated suggestion. A nudge into a certain direction.
You don’t have to follow it, but it gives a new perspective. If lucky, it might even be good.
My father knew that and he wasn’t the greatest person. Some might even say an awful parent—’some’ being myself sometimes—but there were moments, scarce ones, when he would say something that would leave me completely floored for the right reasons. He knew what it was like to be a parent. He just had terrible views half the time.  
I didn’t say anything, scratching the dog’s ear. She pressed a kiss on my cheek, raising both eyebrows and asking if I trusted her. I grumbled that it wasn’t a fair question. Of course I did. She knew that, but she also knew I wasn’t convinced of this, so she went on. “You know him. You know how much he values your opinion. So yes, very fair question.”
It was silent for a while. She already sensed something was wrong with me, but she didn’t push. She waited patiently. I wasn’t too forthcoming.
“Anyway,” I mumbled, looking down at her petting the dog. “Mashed Potato is our newest family member then?”
“Our fifth and last child.”
“For sure.” I linked my fingers with hers and squeezed. “We’ve got enough kids to take over in case I die.”
“Wyatt would run away and join the circus if that ever happened. Layla with her guitar.” She paused for a beat. “Is Hazel our most sensible child?”
“I think she is,” I laughed, thinking of our little gang of rascals. “And people say the youngest is the hardest to keep up with…”
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j a m e s
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It wasn’t that it was completely unbelievable, but rather that it was unexpected.
Like getting a flash from the past. A girl spinning around in the gardens with a simple and careless smile. Just a different time and place. She danced in circles with guards and maids around her, other girls her age amongst the group. She wasn’t awkwardly glancing away from people. She was meeting them head on. Not flustered or nervous. Not the simple observer she’d been when I hung out with her and the other Schreaves. She was almost laughing, her hair dancing in circles with her movements.
She wasn’t holding back.
The Hazel I’d known all my life stood before me for the first time in years. She wasn’t quiet or someone you could simply forget being in a room with. She was the girl dragging guards and maids into the cluster of people.
I could feel my heart racing, the overwhelming feeling to join her filling me as it always did when we were kids. When neither of us had to ask if we should do something, we just did it… but I hesitated. My feet didn’t move. I was stuck watching the girl that was once my closest friend, a blush creeping its way up my cheeks because she looked stunning. There was no other way to put it.
Do something James, come on.
I couldn’t walk into the servant quarters just like that. Especially not to talk with her. What would I say? Either something stupid would come out—that was bound to make her uncomfortable—or my brain would suddenly become a jumble of random letters and screaming.
For better or for worse, I never got the chance to debate what to do in my head. Hazel’s eyes had caught mine in the middle of a twirl. They were wide and unguarded.
Before I could stop myself, I was already taking a step forward.
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christopherschreave · 7 years ago
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((Little fic in the works))
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@christopherschreave @isobelschreave
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christopherschreave · 7 years ago
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((boOOOOOIIIIII yEs))
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THAT HER NAMES ISOBEL AND SHES THE QUEEN OF ILLEA OHHHHH *mic drop*
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christopherschreave · 7 years ago
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Any favourites?
Well, I haven’t had the chance to meet all of them in person, but they all seem like wonderful ladies. Lady Gabriella appreciated my humor though.
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christopherschreave · 7 years ago
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What's it like having your home overrun with 35 young ladies for the second time?
I will admit it brings back a couple of memories to have that many guests around. The buzzing that takes over the palace during Selections is unmistakable.  
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christopherschreave · 7 years ago
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How did you find out that isobel was the right one?
We went to the beach one day without telling anyone. It was a poor attempt at just spending some time together without someone taking pictures or guards tailing us. Of course, trying to avoid paparazzi at Angeles’ beaches is almost impossible when a camera tends to be around for someone else anyway. 
We were doing pretty well since we stayed away from crowds and wore the most horrible beach hats ever, but then Isobel spotted some guy carrying a camera nearby. He hadn’t noticed us, but if he passed near us, he might’ve. It wasn’t easy to tell if it was paparazzi or not either, but Isobel panicked and took it upon herself to do something about it before I could even react. She knew I just wanted a break, so she apparently decided to throw a towel over our heads as cover. Surprisingly, it worked, and that was then I knew. When she remained still under a towel with me, like not moving would help our case. The man probably thought we were some random couple kissing under a towel, I don’t know, but when I looked at her smile and her determination to stay unseen simply because it was what I wanted...I realized there was nothing like those eyes and smile. 
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christopherschreave · 7 years ago
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tv show otp?
Chandler and Monica from F.R.I.E.N.D.S
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christopherschreave · 7 years ago
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best thing about your kids?
The list could be endless, but one thing they all have in common is they eventually know what they want and their determination meets no end.
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christopherschreave · 7 years ago
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What advice would you give Ben about the selection?
Know yourself. Then the ladies. Don’t see it as a duty and you’ll find the people you wouldn’t want to live without. Some will be friends. One will be more than that.
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christopherschreave · 7 years ago
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