#but my son sure did remark that the princess has 2 moms just like him

[bonnini]

Well I promised you a post about my bi Geoffrey Martewall headcanons so here it is guys <3

So…as I previously mentioned in a tag under one of @agapantoblu's posts, I've been half-seriously headcanoning Geoffrey Martewall a.k.a. the best character in the Hypervesum series as a clueless bisexual for... well, for some time. Let's say a year and a half. I've never bothered actually sharing these headcanons online because I didn't really have a clear idea for an actual argument in support of this claim of mine, but now I’m finally ready to put the all the reasons why I get extra-strong bisexual vibes from Geoffrey Martewall into words. Beware…it’s a lot of words :’’)

Exhibit A: Geoffrey and women

1.1. Geoffrey’s taste in women is just too good

Listen. LISTEN. Our man’s taste in women is IMPECCABLE: he could, as Brianna said herself, have chosen to take any young noble maiden as his wife, but he decided to go for a woman that 1) is a couple years older than him 2) is not noble at all and, you know, used to be just a poor paesant before coming to Châtel-Argent 3) already has a son who was fathered by a French knight to whom she was never married and that she had to raise as a teen single mom 4) at the time of their first meeting had a crush on his current worst enemy. LISTEN!!!!!!!! Geoffrey’s taste in women is suspiciously good, way too good, in fact, to be that of a medieval straight guy. I mean…Ian, a man who comes from the 21st century, fell for the textbook angelic maiden, while Geoffrey literally did not even bother looking around for some young blushing bride and just decided that the hot milf who threatened him with a pitchfork in book 2 was his first and best choice. What an Absolute Fucking King. This choice of his is, in my opinion, very telling of the kind of view he has of romance and women in general.

Which brings me to the next point, namely:

1.2. Geoffrey appears to have an attitude towards women and a view of womanhood that are significantly more modern than those of an average knight of his time

Is it just me or is Geoffrey actually the one with the most… modern mindset out of all the knights starring in the saga? There are a couple of specific scenes that kind of make me think of him as an outlier among his peers, and although some of those are definitely there for the purpose of showing us that Martewall is indeed a rather peculiar knight, others contribute to creating the picture of a character that is almost… out of place in the 13th century? 

Allow me to expand a bit further on the “Geoffrey and women” topic: we saw how chivalrous and respectful Geoffrey was towards an unconscious and injured Brianna. First he made sure her son was comfortable with him warming her up using his own body, and reassured him he meant no disrespect by removing her clothes; then, he proceeded to strip her in the most methodical and detached way possible, which let us know Geoffrey respects a woman’s body and modesty the way any proper, courteous medieval man would. But then there’s another, and in my opinion far more interesting, instance in which Geoffrey is seen interacting with a woman: I’m talking about his brief conversation with Blanche of Castile in book 3. Here we see 1) how Geoffrey treats women he is not attracted to (“not attracted to” as in: women he has no interest in romancing), and 2) to what degree he actually respects female authority. 

Our first introduction to Blanche is the scene in which Guillaume, Ian and Henri de Bar are talking about her right before the audience in Paris, during which we learn that the vast majority of noblemen do not take her opinions seriously and do not appreciate seeing her talk during political debates. Even Henri de Bar, although he does not mean to be insolent, raises an eyebrow at the thought of a woman participating in conversations that concern military strategy, while Guillaume seems almost amused at Ian’s heartfelt defence of her speeches. Which is why Geoffrey’s brief interaction with her stands out so much: when she starts talking about the war in England with him, he carefully listens to her as if she were just another male superior officer: he does not appear even slightly surprised by her competence, he does not try to dumb down the topic of discussion, he listens carefully to what she is saying, he offers his opinion only when she asks for it and he answers her questions in the most straightforward way possible. At no point during the conversation does he ever attempt to pull the condescending “with all due respect, madame…” to correct or contradict her statements. He is not in courteous knight mode, he is in soldier mode, and is unfazed by the fact that the one he is discussing logistics and war strategy with is a delicate looking princess.  Once again, the author is fleshing out Geoffrey’s character by having the protagonist and point of view character draw a direct comparison between him and other men. Martewall does not simply respect women as in “oh I’m a proper knight and I use my blade to protect defenceless maidens”, he actually, genuinely respects women. 

Which in my opinion is such an interesting facet of his values and personality: in the second half of book 2, Ian notices how thoroughly Harald Martewall managed to drill the code of chivalry into his son’s head, and remarks on the fact that the Martewalls are all perfect examples of the True Old School Knights. Both Harald and Geoffrey are the embodiment of the honourable, unyielding, upright warrior trope, and they perfectly fit the image we modern people conjure in our minds when we think of a knight of the Middle Ages. This specific aspect of Geoffrey’s set of values gives his character a strong, let’s say “old-fashioned” connotation, and yet said set of values seems to come from an internal source rather than rely on tradition and external rules. He, for example, got rid of his helm and shield when he saw his adversary in combat was not fully equipped, but he also willingly assisted the Dauphin in taking over England despite having previously sworn an oath of loyalty to John Plantagenet, since his sense of honour compelled him to aid the man who provided him with the help he needed to get his home back. Geoffrey is way more likely to base his choices on what his own moral compass compels him to do rather than resort to convention and tradition to tell right from wrong. This makes Geoffrey a perfect blend of both old and modern qualities, and in the context of his relationship with women he tends to lean quite heavily on his more modern side.  

Let’s go back to discussing his first introduction to Brianna for a second: he witnesses Brianna express her unrequited attraction to Ian, flirt with him and even mock-kiss him straight on the lips, and yet not only does that not make Geoffrey respect her any less, it also does not concern him at all later in book 3 when the story hints at the fact that he might have an interest in taking her as his wife. This is a rather unusual attitude! I mean, even the exuberant Etienne de Sancerre, who has shown an overt preference for feisty and confident women, grumbles and protests in jealousy when his wife Donna and Daniel greet each other with a hug while out in public, deeming the gesture to be inappropriate. What I’m trying to say here is that this is a man who is waaaaay ahead of his peers in regards to his view of women and womanhood, and who also appears to be very confident in his masculinity (so confident, in fact, that the thought of having to “put women in their place” never once crosses his mind), hence why I keep sensing the most excellent kind of bisexual vibes coming from him.

Exhibit B: Geoffrey and men

2.1 Jerome and Geoffrey’s friendship makes NO sense

And I mean it. Yes, we do read about Ian wondering how two people with such different sets of core values (ok maybe Jerome lacked core values all together lol) could have ever been friends, which means that yes, readers are in fact meant to notice how misguided Geoffrey is in his commitment to honour this bond of friendship and avenge Jerome’s death, but the more I think about this, the more I convince myself that this whole situation is, in fact…really weird.

Let’s start from the beginning: so, Geoffrey’s anger over Jerome’s death is the main source of conflict between him and Ian, and it puts the plot of book 2 in motion. Now, we never actually saw Geoffrey and Jerome talk to each other in book 1 (because at the time of its drafting the author had not yet planned on writing a sequel for it) so all the available details about their relationship (mind you, there aren’t that many) have to be gleaned from Geoffrey’s recollections present in book 2 and pieced back together in order to get a clearer picture. Another fact that should be noted is that we also never saw Jerome talk about Geoffrey (again, because Geoffrey wasn’t really that relevant to the plot of book 1): Geoffrey’s words are the only source available when it comes to trying to reconstruct what their interactions might have been like, which means that our perspective on their friendship is going to be inevitably, extremely one-sided. 

So here we go, book 2, chapter 5: Geoffrey has decided to abduct Ian and Daniel and drag them to his home in England to get some answers and avenge Jerome’s death and he currently has Ian at his mercy, so he immediately starts asking questions. He asks why he currently is not home, he asks why his brother has no knowledge of his whereabouts, he asks if his name really is Jean Marc de Ponthieu, and these are all very dangerous questions: they pose a real threat to Ian’s credibility. But then, when Geoffrey asks why Jerome was so certain he was an imposter, Ian breathes in relief, because that means Geoffrey knows nothing about the ambush in Couronne.

But. Wait a second.

How could Geoffrey possibly not know about Couronne? That’s how Derangale KNEW without a shadow of a doubt that Ian and Jean de Ponthieu were never the same person! Dude was busy forging incriminating letters left and right with Ponthieu’s help??? He was the one who helped Ponthieu and Renaud De Dammartin set Isabeau up to be assaulted by Claude de Dammartin??? Geoffrey explicitly says Jerome was obsessed with Ian, so Derangale must have talked his ear OFF with all his incessant rambling about him being an imposter…and Geoffrey did not bother asking him about the details of this weird doppelganger theory of his ONCE? We know how sharp and observant Geoffrey is. We know he is perceptive, and straightforward in voicing his opinions, and not easy to fool. We know he is the type of guy who likes to ask direct questions and get believable, clear answers in return, so he MUST have asked Jerome why he was so sure about the illegitimacy of Ian’s identity. How did Jerome answer? Did he make up a lie on the spot? Geoffrey is equipped with a very functional built-in anti-nonsense super-sensor (the one that allowed him to immediately spot all the places in which Ian’s deception and intentional gaslighting were coming off at their seams even after Ian had managed to convince Geoffrey’s own father that he was Jean de Ponthieu’s second-born son), so if that was the case – if Jerome had indeed tried to make up some story about why he knew who the real Jean de Ponthieu was – Geoffrey (in theory) would have easily been able to tell that he was being lied to. 

Do we then have to assume Jerome simply replied with “I just know”? Well…the text implies that this is the most plausible option: as Ian and Geoffrey’s heated conversation goes on, we realize that the only reason Geoffrey believes Ian to be an imposter is…because Jerome said so. And this, in my opinion, says a lot about both Geoffrey’s relationship with Derangale and his current emotional state. Let’s really think about what this little kidnapping stunt of his must look like from an outside perspective: Geoffrey just decided to abduct a man whose identity has been publicly confirmed by Guillaume de Ponthieu, one of the most powerful men on French soil, who also happens to be a relative of king Philippe Auguste (which means Ian has ties to the royal family as well lol???), who ALSO confirmed that Ian is the youngest Ponthieu brother and PERSONALLY BESTOWED the title of Faucon du Roi upon him. Geoffrey does not (currently) have a shred of proof against Ian: he just chose to believe that Ian is some random foreigner who has been allowed to pretend to be a nobleman and marry Isabeau de Montmayeur by the count of Ponthieu and the king of France because that’s what Jerome believed. Jerome stood alone in front of the entire French court, subjecting himself to ridicule, to denounce Ian as an imposter and Guillaume as a liar (and readers know he is 100% right, but look at this from the perspective of one of the characters who are not involved in this intrigue), which are such far-fetched, absurd, ludicrous accusations, even the closest of Jerome’s friends would have demanded at least some evidence in order to give his version of the story some credit. And yet Geoffrey, who has not been given even one crumb of information on the real Jean de Ponthieu’s actual political alignment, simply decided to stand with him against the rest of the world. 

And then, Ian starts answering Geoffrey’s questions by telling him all the vile things Jerome did to him, his family and his friends (while still carefully avoiding the Couronne topic): he tells him of his sadism, villany and criminal actions, and Geoffrey does not believe a single word of what he’s saying. He straight up calls all these accusations lies, and he urges Ian to stop insulting a knight of England his peer and a man of honour deserving of respect. Geoffrey refuses to listen to any negative remark Ian has to make and threatens him with violence when he insists on calling Jerome an unworthy man. “Jerome wasn’t a liar”, he says; “he was my friend, and you killed him”. This is exactly what I meant when I said their friendship strikes me as extremely weird: I mean come on, really? Derangale was a textbook piece of shit. He was violent, vengeful, and arrogant, and yet Geoffrey describes him as a “man of honour”??? It almost seems as if he and Ian are not even talking about the same person??? The sadistic felon Ian met in Cairs is nothing like the friend Geoffrey has such a high opinion of. Which can only mean one thing, namely that when he was with Geoffrey, Jerome was on his best behaviour. And in order to have adapted his behaviour to fit Geoffrey’s expectations of a good and honourable friend, Derangale must have had a very clear picture of the kind of person his “friend” was. Jerome knew Geoffrey would never have allowed all that malicious shit to happen under his watch, so he decided to keep all his plotting a secret from him. Geoffrey never was Jerome’s accomplice in aiding Renaud de Dammartin, Ferrand de Flandre and Jean de Ponthieu steal the Montmayeur fief for king John, and therefore has no reason to believe Ian’s words. 

There are two things about this situation that strike me as particularly weird. First of all: Derangale wasn’t just witholding information from Geoffrey, he was also hiding his true nature from him. And Geoffrey…never noticed? Geoffrey, who can usually smell bullshit and deception from a mile away, who has no difficulty in telling a man of honour from a felon, who normally would not bother wasting his time being friends with such an insufferable prick, never managed to guess the true nature of Jerome’s character? Huh??? And secondly: why exactly did Derangale ask for help from a guy he was so sure he would never have been able to turn into one of his accomplices he had to actively keep parts of himself and his plans hidden for months up to the battle in Bouvines? What we know, thanks to Harald Martewall, is that Jerome was the first to reach out to Geoffrey back in book 1: apparently, the two of them used to be friends as young boys, then stopped seeing each other for a couple of years until Derangale decided to pick up the phone and give him a call. Geoffrey was in England, minding his own business, when Jerome contacted him to ask if he was willing to join him in Béarne. He, as sir Harald recalls, “was busy raising a cavalry troop for Ferrand De Flandre, and wanted my last-born as champion in a tournament”. It is not difficult to guess why Derangale asked specifically for Geoffrey to join his faction. Martewall is, simply put, the baddest bitch in the area: he is easily the scariest and most skilled warrior out of all the knights we get to meet in the saga, and an experienced tournament champion is precisely what Jerome needs for the little show he has in plan for Béarne. What I really want to know here is: couldn’t Derangale have called for literally any other English knight to help him win? Why did he risk enrolling a guy he knew would never have approved of his schemes and totally could have kicked his ass if he ever found out about his misconduct? Couldn’t he have called for a couple more champions who would have been overjoyed at the opportunity of beating the shit out of all those French knights? Why did it have to be just him and Geoffrey against the ENTIRETY of Philippe Auguste’s lineup? Why was he so confident in his ability to manipulate Geoffrey? Oh AND. This is an information that is nowhere to be found in the actual books but it is something I asked the author to confirm because I was just too curious: Geoffrey…did not have fun in Béarne, like at all. He did not care for the show Jerome wanted to put on, he did not enjoy participating in that display of strength and superiority, and he was grumpier than usual during the whole ordeal. So our man Jerome basically decided to rely exclusively on Geoffrey’s excellence and made him travel all the way to Béarne instead of putting together a slightly larger faction of fellows who could have maybe shared his immoral cause (like hello?????? it’s literally JUST the two of them against ALL the French nobles competing at the tournament lmfao??? I mean ok girl!!! give us drama! give us spectacle!) despite knowing that 1) he would have had to completely alter his behaviour around him 2) he could never have explained to him why he knew with absolute certainty Ian was an imposter and 3) Geoffrey would have intensely disliked being at the centre of theatrics. Like…I get that Geoffrey is your most skilled friend when it comes to the art of jousting, but… his presence is also a bit too inconvenient in this context? I mean really? You didn’t know any other knights in the area who could have been available as champions? You had to call for Geoffrey? Specifically for him? Haha girl ok! (oh and you also saved some of the custom higher quality blades you had made for your squadron to arm Geoffrey? Ok! Oh and you decided to pick Geoffrey as the other leader of your special squadron? Girl Ok!!! The guy would leave your ass in less than a second if he ever found out about your awful crimes so keeping him at your side is quite the risky move, but you do you I guess).

And another thing is, not only did Geoffrey hate every second of that charade, he (and this is also information that I got directly from the author) was downright shocked at Derangale’s unprompted act of violence against the young count of Grandpré… that was something that caught him completely off guard and that left a bitter taste in his mouth. It makes total sense for Geoffrey to feel this way, that’s very in character for him. What actually, really surprises me is Geoffrey’s reaction at hearing Ian mention this particular incident. You were there, says Ian, you saw Derangale attempt to kill a friend of mine with your own two eyes, and yet you insist on threatening me for calling him a criminal and an assassin. And that’s what finally prompts Geoffrey to lay hands on him. He silences him with a slap so violent it almost makes him fall on the ground. Geoffrey reacted with anger and disbelief when Ian was describing him heinous crimes that he never witnessed and did not believe to be true, but only resorted to physical violence when Ian forced him to acknowledge and condemn an action he actually saw Jerome commit. This brief scene alone is enough for me to confidently conclude that Geoffrey is, there are no other words fit to describe his current emotional state, deep in DENIAL. He hears an uncomfortable truth he has no way of denying, he lets that send him into a violent rage, he acts that violence out and then he ends the whole conversation there. He just. Leaves. And he repeats the same exact pattern of behaviour a second time! Book 2, chapter 12: Martewall starts to interrogate Daniel, who tells him about Derangale’s first attempt at kidnapping Isabeau AND manages to have one of his own men confirm his story. Then Geoffrey becomes visibly agitated, to the point he inadvertently breaks the rod he brought to beat information out of his prisoner in fucking two, CHANGES THE TOPIC OF DISCUSSION ON PURPOSE, and then when Daniel insists on bringing the conversation back to Derangale’s crimes he draws his sword, points it at him in another fit of anger and then! He LEAVES!! AGAIN!!! Bro???????????? You keep saying you “want the truth” and yet when you finally get it you cut the conversation off because you don’t like what you’re hearing? Hello???

“You insist on defending him only because you do not want to admit you have been lied to and manipulated by him”, this is what Daniel says to Martewall’s face, and the most articulate rebuttal he is able to come up with on the spot is “that is not true”. He absolutely did not expect to be confronted with such merciless answers, and he has no idea how to cope with Ian and Daniel ripping into the image of the good and honourable Jerome that only exists in his mind, so he just rejects anything negative they have to say and breaks things like a moody teenager.

His behaviour is extremely erratic. For the entirety of the first half of book 2, Geoffrey is clearly not his usual self. His own father tells him he does not recognize him anymore. And when Sir Harald confronts him and makes an attempt at urging him to release Daniel, Geoffrey reacts with something I would almost describe as a…temper tantrum? Sir Harald’s request for an explanation from his son is more than legit: after all, he just learned from Daniel that Geoffrey decided to kidnap a renowned nobleman on a whim, without any evidence of his supposed crimes, WITHIN THE BORDERS OF HIS FIEF IN FRENCH LANDS. That could get them in SERIOUS trouble with both his brother Guillaume de Ponthieu and Philippe Auguste himself, as Salisbury will later remark on. I mean, this action is not only dishonourable, as Sir Harald will be very quick to point out, but also extremely stupid. And Geoffrey is not stupid. Like, at all. He knows when to shut up, his rage is usually under check, he is not prone to acting out in anger or taking rash decisions. But here, Geoffrey is letting his emotions run rampant. His father is being perfectly reasonable, and he replies quite disrespectfully by stating that he is not a young boy anymore and that he will not allow for any reproach o interference on his part.

It should be noted that Geoffrey’s troubled state of mind is not solely the result of Jerome’s death. In fact, in chapter 12, Geoffrey makes it clear why he is so angry and frustrated. He lays out all of his reasons to his father:

“I’ve always done my duty and I lost my honour because of those to whom I owed my loyalty. I fought loyally until the very end, I paid my defeat with imprisonment, only to discover at my release that my name is associated to those of a friend deemed a felon and a king judged a coward; I return to my homeland and I end up on a list of traitors because of you! I am forced to be subject to the last two accusations, but the first…that one I intend to acquit myself from with any means necessary. At this point, I have already lost my dignity as a knight and you are the last person who can reproach me for it, since you are the one who dealt me the final blow”.

Geoffrey’s words reveal that he is also doing all of this for himself. He is now more desperate than ever to prove Jerome was always in the right, since this seems to be the only means of coping with the loss of his precious honour. The thought of having been friends with a felon of this magnitude is something Geoffrey could never, ever tolerate, because what would this say about him as a person? This explains the state of denial he currently is in: he has done something he would normally see as despicable by kidnapping Ian in his own lands, but he could excuse acting like a vulgar bandit if only he managed to force a confession out of Ian and avenge Jerome’s death (have I already mentioned Geoffrey has NO business being mad about Jerome meeting his demise at Ian’s hands? Dude was killed in fair combat. On a battlefield. Ian did not assassinate him or anything of that sort, there simply are NO good reasons as for why Geoffrey could ever want to “avenge” his friend’s death?? like there’s literally nothing to avenge here??? Lol???). And although Geoffrey is indeed defending Jerome’s honour because he feels that his crimes, if proven true, could reflect badly on himself, Geoffrey’s words still betray real attachment and a genuine feeling of affection for Jerome. Ian himself will later recognize their bond as valid by directly comparing it to the sentiment of friendship he shares with Daniel. At the time of Ian’s abduction, Geoffrey did not yet know that he would eventually be forced to fight yet another war once he’d finally reach his home: at that point in the story, Geoffrey’s motives for taking Ian and Daniel as prisoners had little to do with him wanting to gain back the honour he now feels his father tore from him by ordering him to side with him against their king. The primary motivation for his disreputable conduct in chapters 4 to 10 was, in my opinion, grief.

Another thing that I find extremely interesting and that in a way contradicts what I mentioned above about Geoffrey not being able to tolerate the thought of having been friends with a criminal, is that once he starts to come to terms with the proof of Jerome’s misconduct…he never disavows their friendship. What he says once he finally accepts Ian as his friend and lets go of Jerome’s obsession is: “I did everything in my power to honour our friendship, going even beyond common sense”. He never tries to claim they were never really friends or proclaim he wants to cut all ties with such a man. And towards the end of book 3, when Geoffrey and Ian are discussing what Ian’s exile really implicates and Ian is finally forced to admit he never was Jean de Ponthieu, Geoffrey all of a sudden brings Derangale into their conversation to reflect on how Jerome was right all along and how happy he is to learn that he at least did not lie to him about this one specific thing. Well, maybe I’m reading too much into this, but I was expecting him to focus on the sheer amount of lies he had been fed by…you know, Ian, the friend who happens to be alive and whom he is currently confronting. He does not even seem interested in asking Ian to explain himself, it is Ian who apologises to him, completely unprompted. They were having a conversation about Philippe Auguste and Guillaume de Ponthieu wielding the power to destroy his life, and after several beats of silence and intense consideration, what Geoffrey decided to say out loud was “I’m happy Jerome didn’t lie to me about you”? Ummmmmmm ok??????????? Lying to him certainly was not the worst thing Jerome has ever done? What about the many crimes he committed against Ian, his friends and his family? What I’m trying to say here is that Daniel’s argument about Geoffrey having been manipulated by Jerome must have cut deep, since here he is, bringing this up again. Derangale died more than two years ago, and Geoffrey already gave up on trying to redeem his honour and reputation, but he appears to be still in the middle of the process of learning to truly let him go. Dealing with the idea of having been deceived in such a cold way by a close friend to whom he though he owed unwavering loyalty is proving to be challenging. I might be delusional but I can only make sense of the fact Geoffrey brought Jerome into their conversation about Ian only to briefly touch on a strictly personal matter that concerned his own feelings and his private relationship with Ian’s old archenemy if I assume Geoffrey was, at this point in time, still dealing with some very intense and complicated feelings (….furthermore…………it doesn’t…really…make sense…for Geoffrey to be happy about Jerome telling him that Ian’s identity was a hoax…since the whole point of telling him that…was getting his help in destroying Ian and not really “being honest” with him…like…Geoffrey, love, why are you so desperately hanging on to these miniscule scraps of “““honest and genuine interactions”””, why do you still treasure this literal MICROSCOPIC CRUMB of “““sincerity””” on Jerome’s part…hello…………………???). Sorry but this whole Jerome/Geoffrey mess just exudes one-sided, unfulfilled and unacknowledged tenderness in copious amounts once you really start to read into it. My personal interpretation of the situation is that Geoffrey is having such a hard time trying to make sense of the extent of Derangale’s manipulation and condemning him as someone who was always undeserving of his friendship and devotion because he completely lacks the tools to properly analyse and interpret his own feelings on the matter.

2.2 Geoffrey and Ian vs Geoffrey and Jerome

I’m touching briefly on Ian and Geoffrey’s friendship dynamics in book 3 mainly because I think that their relationship will provide me with some good clues and parallels that could be of help in determining what Geoffrey was like when he was in Jerome’s company, since the third instalment in the series gives us such a wonderful and complete picture of the kind of friend Geoffrey is. Remember how Geoffrey immediately sided with Ian against Gant without asking for evidence against him and came to Ian’s rescue twice despite having very important businesses to attend to? Geoffrey has repeatedly shown that he has a tendency to be aggressively protective of his closest friends, to the point he has no problem resorting to extreme violence to ensure their safety (Ian, bleeding on the floor, gripping Geoffrey’s arm: “please tell me you took at least one of my assailants alive I’m going to need a witness???????” Geoffrey: “…” Ian: “…” The pile of corpses right behind them: “…” Geoffrey: “…sorry lol I kinda dealt with them in a bit of a heavy handed way” Ian: whimpers and collapses in his arms). Geoffrey’s attitude in regards to Ian’s enemies perfectly explains why he never had any qualms siding with Jerome against Ian despite the fact Derangale wasn’t telling him shit about the supposed evidence behind his outlandish claims. This is actually part of his regular pattern of behaviour: Geoffrey has consistently shown a thorough commitment towards undying trust and unconditional support through direct action. He might seem cold and aloof since he is never seen behave in an overtly friendly or approachable way when he is out in public (he also does not smile ONCE throughout the whole trilogy), but this right here is, in my opinion, a very affectionate man who is capable of forming true and intimate bonds with a handful of hand-picked men whose company he deeply treasures. Let’s talk about how Geoffrey U-turned at the speed of light to go back and help Ian corner Gant even though he was in the middle of carrying out an extremely important mission for Blanche of Castile. Let’s talk about how Derangale did not even have the time to fall to the ground after Ian delivered him the finishing blow, because Geoffrey literally teleported behind him to catch him, hoist him on his horse and take him to safety (let’s also talk about how Ian later found Derangale’s corpse among those of all the abandoned fallen soldiers the imperial army was not able to retrieve, and saw that his dead body had been laid on a shield with care, which means Geoffrey probably was the one responsible for preserving his dignity in death since we know for a fact he was there to hear Derangale’s last words and witness him die – I am literally about to start screaming please send help :)))))))). Do not let his grumpiness and harsh words fool you, Geoffrey is the most dedicated best friend another knight could ever ask for.

HOWEVER, the main difference between the two relationships I am comparing is that Geoffrey’s support of Ian is always unconditional, but never irrational in the same way his pursuit of revenge on Jerome’s behalf was, and at no point in the story does Geoffrey fail in evaluating Ian’s character or intentions. Furthermore, Ian’s gaslighting game was ON POINT in book 2, he was warping reality around Geoffrey like a damn magician, but Geoffrey never fully bought into his carefully crafted lies. And yet I am expected to believe that Derangale was such a skilled master manipulator he was able to conceal his true nature and agenda from Geoffrey for months? Hello??? PLEASE! Make it make sense!!! The ease with which Derangale was able to withold crucial information from him is extremely suspicious. Really? You mean to tell me Jerome Derangale had one of the least gullible people in the saga wrapped around his finger for years and never once slipped and misbehaved in front of him? Sorry I know at this point I must sound extremely redundant but Geoffrey’s selective blindness towards anything that concerns Derangale really is the weirdest thing ever, like, uh oh! Are you sure you didn’t catch any overly soft feelings for your bestie? So…I’m gonna say it: my theory on why Geoffrey’s behaviour was all over the place in the first chapters of book 2 is that he has always been completely unaware of the true nature and extent of his emotional attachment to Derangale, and this cluelessness of his contributed to worsening his already frustrated state. Furthermore, I also think Derangale must have noticed something was going on with Geoffrey and decided to use it to his advantage. Dude was a bit too confident, suspiciously confident in his ability to keep Geoffrey at his side without having to disclose any kind of compromising information.

In conclusion:

What I’m trying to say here is that I’m pretty convinced Geoffrey Martewall is not one of the straights. To sum all of this up, he:

-drinks astronomical amounts of his own extra strong brew of respect women juice on a daily basis

-has a tendency to get very attached to a few selected male friends who he then proceeds to protect with everything he has

-never noticed his old friend (👀) was lying to him, acted in a very out of character and erratic way for a while after his old friend’s (👀👀) death and was ready to commit actual crimes in an attempt to honour his old friend’s (👀👀👀) memory.

So. Yeah. The bi vibes are there. I would rather die than give up my Clueless Bisexual King Geoffrey Martewall headcanons! Sorry but a straight Geoffrey would make zero sense to me. Your honour can’t you see!!! this guy is WAY too cool not to be bi!!!

I rest my case.

P.S. I cannot BELIEVE I’m actually posting this monster on the day of the anniversary of the battle of Bouvines??? I swear I didn’t do it on purpose, at first I was really annoyed at the fact that putting this together was taking me weeks but then yesterday while I was editing I realized I would eventually be able to publish this on the very day Derangale died and Geoffrey was taken prisoner :’’) Perfect timing am I right?

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 10/13

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

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Chapter 10: Attention Please

The Captain watched the woman in the red cloak sniffing the air as she moved through the forest. He knew of her kind, had heard of their abilities, but had avoided interaction with her species. His First Mate warily followed behind him, refusing to allow him to continue his quest unless she accompanied him after finding out about the inclusion of the aid of the Huntress.

“Are we sure she isn’t leading us into a trap, waiting until we are all separated before turning and hunting us all?”

Killian turned toward her, “Such positive affirmations, French.”

“Besides the ability to track, I also have excellent hearing.” The woman in the cloak remarked loudly from the front of the group.

“Great job, now you’ve offended her.” He chuckled, continuing his path.

Suddenly the woman stopped, holding her hand in the air. She whispered to the Princess, “I caught the scent of Master Henry. That way.”

Killian rushed to the Princess, grabbing her by the arm. “Stay here. I’ll go ahead.”

“I’m going with you.” She said defiantly.

“I believe the King, and might I say the Duke, were told that you would not venture into danger on this quest. So, I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist that you stay here with the woman.”

“If you think I give a damn about what you told my brother, much less the Duke, you are very mistaken.” She held her chin high, yanking her arm away from the Captain and marching in the direction that Ruby had pointed.

Killian grumbled and followed the woman down the path. “One of these days, I’m going to stop chasing this woman.”

~*~

“So, she’s just dating Will now?” Ruby asked after Emma explained what had happened with Killian, Belle, and William.

“I guess. Apparently they’ve been chatting for two weeks.” Emma held her hand in air quotes because she wasn’t exactly sure what chatting meant. “But Will just asked her out the other day. Apparently that was their first real date when I caught them sucking face outside his door.”

“How’s Killian holding up?”

“How should I know?” Emma deflected.

“The two of you seem pretty close lately, I saw you both at the diner the other day eating lunch together. Just saying, you seemed pretty cozy.” Ruby teased.

“There’s nothing going on, if that is what you are implying Rubes.”

“So, then you wouldn’t mind if I asked him out? You know now that he’s single and all.”

“I uh…” Emma frowned, trying to calm her sudden anxiety. “I don’t know if he’s going to want to date right after getting dumped by Belle and all.” Emma took a drink of her water. “But sure, I mean if you want to ask him out.”

“What better way to get over a broken heart than by getting back up on the horse.” Ruby grinned. “I’d ride that stallion bareback.”

Emma choked on her water. “Um, yeah I guess.”

“Oh relax, I’m not going to ask him out. I don’t date men who aren’t emotionally available anyway.”

“Well, you do whatever you want. I’m not his keeper.” Emma said dryly.

“Are you sure about that?” She smirked, but Emma only nodded quietly, her mind swirling around thoughts of her neighbor.

Later that evening, she sat on the roof, surrounded by her family and friends at an impromptu get together, she couldn’t keep her eyes off the man sitting with her son, drinking his beer, telling stories that made her son laugh until he was doubled over, a smile across his entire face.

Besides David and Will, Henry had never taken an interest in a man the way he had with Killian. Emma had to admit there was something about him that had captivated her as well. He looked up and her eyes locked with his. She smiled softly, the corner of his lips turning upward in return.

A noise knocked her from her trance as she looked up to see her brother clanging his glass with a fork. “Excuse me, if I could have your attention please.” He jumped up on one of the tables and pointed toward her as Graham stood up next to her. “My best friend, Graham has a few words he would like to say.”

Emma looked up, watching with apprehension as Graham turned toward her. For some reason it made her stomach wretch with anxious energy. “Emma…” He started to speak, and Emma felt her entire body tense. “I know we haven’t dated a full year yet, but these have been the best nine months of my life.”

No, no, no, no, no, this can’t be happening.

Emma could barely see Graham’s face with the way her vision was starting to blur, not from tears of joy but from panic.

“And there is nothing I want more than for you and Henry to be a part of my life permanently.” He bent down on his knee and Emma felt like vomiting. She looked around the room at the happy faces staring at her, and she turned desperately trying to find her son. Henry was standing alone at the table he was previously enjoying time with Killian at.

His face was solemn, ghastly almost as he watched the scene in front of him in solitude. Killian was nowhere to be seen.

“Will you do me the honor of being my wife?” Her attention turned back to Graham, kneeling in front of her, holding out a shimmering ring toward her.

She didn’t know how to speak. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, but Emma knew that the sick feeling in the bottom of her stomach should not be there in the middle of something that was supposed to be a happy moment.

“Emma?” Her eyes jerked up to meet Grahams.

She wanted to say yes and embrace him with joy. She wanted to let him know that she would be happy and taken care of for the rest of her life with Graham by her side. She wished more than anything that his question made her the happiest woman on the planet. Graham was good to her. He would be a good husband; he would love Henry as his own. He was a good man.

Emma knew the words she needed to say, she rehearsed them in her head. She was lucky, she was blessed to have someone like Graham want to marry her and take care of her son, yet when she opened her mouth, the words would not come out.

“Graham…” She said softly. “I…” She reached out and cupped her hands around his outstretched palm, closing his fingers around the ring. “I can’t.”

~*~

Killian stopped in the stairwell, leaning against the wall to calm his breathing. He knew he shouldn’t be so affected by the proposal taking place on the rooftop. Emma had been with Graham since he met her, it was the natural order of things for normal people. People unlike himself. People who deserved to find everlasting love.

Emma deserved to be happy. Yet he couldn’t stop the aching pain in his chest the moment he watched the man drop down to one knee in front of her.

It was bad enough that the evening began with Will and Belle attending the festivities together. He was happy for Belle, and Will honestly, but it stung a bit to see her laughing and enjoying her time with the man. Had it not been for Henry, Killian would have felt completely alone tonight. Instead, Henry stayed by his side, asking him questions about his day, telling him stories about the latest movie he had watched.

But as soon as Graham dropped to his knee, Killian slipped into the shadows, retreating to the stairwell to make his exit. He didn’t belong up there, with her friends and family, celebrating the good news. He would allow her the moment in private.

As soon as he reached his apartment, he crossed the kitchen, opening his cupboard to pull the bottle of rum from its place. Instead of pouring the liquid into the glass, he titled the bottle into his mouth, the warm liquid burning its way to his stomach.

He dropped down onto his couch, the bottle tucked into his side, another night alone. He drank until sleep took him, golden blonde hair blowing on the bow of his ship, shimmering flecks of green dancing in the sunlight. She turned toward him, his name falling off her lips like a secret blowing in the wind.

Killian.

He sat up, a knock on his door pulling him from his dream. The empty bottle fell from his side, hitting the ground and rolling under the couch. He groaned, pulling himself up from his prone position and stumbling toward the door. Turning the handle, he cracked the door open, peering into the hall. His vision dropped down to see Henry staring up at him.

“Hey Killian, can we take Smee to the park?”

“Morning, lad, you’re up early!” He moaned, grabbing his head.

“It’s after one.” He laughed. “Did you just wake up?”

“A bit too much partying last night.” He opened the door, letting the boy in as he fished the dog’s leash from its spot on the counter. “A bit of sunshine might do me good.”

“Did you hear that Smee, we’re going to the park.” The dog jumped excitedly around the boy and Killian felt another ache in his chest. Surely the boy would still want to spend time with him after his mother married. He didn’t realize how much he enjoyed the boy’s presence until the thought of losing it presented itself.

“Are you ready?” Killian smiled and opened the door, letting the boy take the leash and following him out the door.

They walked to the park, Henry talking rapidly about a game he wanted to play later, as Killian realized he had just placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder as they walked. It was a gesture so simple and pure, yet he had never had such a kinship with a young kid before.

“So maybe we could play on Wednesday night now. You know because mom won’t be doing that anymore.”

Killian realized he hadn’t heard a word the boy had said. “Sorry lad, what is it your mom won’t be doing on Wednesday?”

“Date night with Graham.”

“Henry, just because your mom is getting married, doesn’t mean that date night stops, it just means they happen more frequently, at home.” He chuckled.

“But my mom isn’t getting married.” He stopped walking and looked up at him.

“What are you talking about, Henry. I was there for the news last night.”

“You mean when she broke it off with Graham?”

“She did what?”

Henry shrugged, “Yeah after she turned down his proposal, they had a long talk and mom came to my room and told me that she and Graham had decided to stop seeing each other. She was afraid I was going to be upset about it, but honestly, she made the right choice. Graham isn’t her true love anyway.”

Killian just stared at the boy; Emma turned down Graham’s proposal. He shouldn’t care, it shouldn’t make him as happy as he’s feeling right now, yet it was the only thing he could say for certain. Nothing made him happier than knowing that Emma had rejected Graham’s proposal.

It was ridiculous, it meant that Emma was alone, just as he was. Technically he was free to pursue her, free to finish what had been started twice before with their kiss. There was nothing standing in the way of him having her, tasting her, taking her the way he had dreamed so many nights before.

But Emma was different than other women he had bedded. She wasn’t a one-time thing. And just as with Belle, Emma deserved better than one night in bed with him. She deserved love, a home, a relationship. Things he couldn’t offer her.

“Do you like my mom?”

Killian’s eyes grew wide. “Of course, I like your mom, she’s my friend.”

He laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, do you like her, like her. You know, as a girl.”

“I think your mom is a lovely woman, lad.”

The boy smiled up at him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So, you like her.”

Killian chuckled, “Alright lad, let’s get you home before your mom starts wondering where you are.”

“I’m going to take your answer as a yes, because you didn’t actually say no.”

“Let’s go.” Killian turned the boy back toward the apartment, unable to keep the smile off his face.

~*~

The path led to a small cottage, smoke billowing from the fireplace. Killian grabbed the Princess by the hand, pulling her back and pointing to the back of the home. “Shh, let’s go to the back.” He whispered into her ear.

They snuck around the back, peering into the small window. The Princess put her hand to her mouth as she saw her son sitting on a small bed in the middle of the room. She felt the Captain put an arm around her shoulder. “Stay here.” He whispered, his breath hot against her ear. She silently protested, grabbing his arm as he turned to leave, breathless groaning as he turned back to her. “What?” He almost pouted.

She grabbed him by the arm, yanking him down under the window as Baelfire walked toward the glass pane. His body pressed into her, her face in his chest as she cowered to the ground. She could feel the heat radiating from his body as he looked down into her eyes. A slight nod to address her quick action that had saved them from being spotted.

“Go around front, I’ll stay back here in case they try and leave through the back.” She whispered.

“Take this.” He handed her a small dagger, pressing it into her hand. “Be careful, love. I do not wish to see you harmed.”

He crawled to the side of the wall, standing, and making his way to the front of the cottage. She peered through the window just in time to see the wooden boards burst to pieces and Captain Jones appear in the wake of their destruction.

“I have come to take you in, by order of the King.” She heard him announce, she stood, making her way to the back door.

“You will not take my son from me; his mother will pay for keeping him from me.”

She pushed through the door, startling everyone in the cottage. Baelfire turned quickly, grabbing Henry, and pressing his dagger to his throat. “Was expecting you, Princess.”

“Let him go, he’s innocent.”

“Did he know about me?”

“No, I told him you were dead. It was the same as being abandoned, thrown away.”

“You had no right. He’s mine, together he and I can make twice as much as I do now.”

“Unhand the lad.” The Captain’s voice boomed over the Princess and the Swan Thief’s argument.

“Moved on, did you?” Baelfire taunted. “You can’t replace me, Princess.”

The Princess watched as Captain Jones crept closer to her son. The dagger was piercing his skin and Emma felt desperate to get to him. Just as Emma was about to press her blade to Baelfire’s back, Captain Jones nodded to her boy, lunging forward as Henry ducked and knocking the man onto his back.

“I had it under control.” Emma complained.

“I told you to wait outside.” The Captain argued.

Henry watched in amusement as his mother stood arguing with the man who had just saved his life. His father knocked out cold at their feet.

Henry bounded into his apartment to find his mother sitting on the couch, staring at the television which was currently turned off.

“Hey mom.”

She jumped from her spot and turned toward him. “Henry, did you enjoy your walk?”

“Yup, we took Smee to the park.”

“That’s great.” She said turning back toward the television with a frown on her face.

“Are you ok mom?” He sat down next to her on the couch.

“I’m fine, it’s just been a long week.”

“Are you sad about Graham?”

“I’m sad that I don’t feel sad about Graham. Does that make sense?” She said with a laugh.

“Yeah. I mean, I liked Graham, but he wasn’t right for you. He’s not your true love.” He said wistfully.

“Oh Henry, real life isn’t like your fairytales.” She ran a hand through his hair.

“Not if you don’t believe.” He replied.

Henry paced in his room that evening, everything seemed to be working out perfectly. Belle was with Will now; Graham and his mother were finished. Killian and Emma were free to be together. He knew they liked each other, it wasn’t hard to see the way they looked at each other or how calm and free his mother was when he was around.

But now they were both free to admit their feelings, and yet neither of them seemed prepared to do so. If only he could get them to be honest with each other. If they just had a moment alone where neither one of them could deny how they felt.

Henry paused in his pacing, a smile coming to his face. Slipping from his room he snuck into the hallway, he could hear the shower water in the bathroom, his mother singing quietly in the shower. Pushing his mother’s door open, he crept into her room, her cellphone charging on her nightstand. He picked it up and quickly searched her contacts until he found what he needed.

E: I need to talk to you. Please meet me on the roof at 7pm tomorrow night.

After the message sent, he clicked the delete button, removing it from her phone and setting it back on her table.

Moving quickly, he slipped out of the apartment and knocked on Killian’s door. It opened and Killian stood in front of him in his bathrobe. “Lad, is everything alright?”

“Yeah I think I left my phone over here earlier. Can you help me look for it?”

“Aye, do you remember where you might have left it?”

“Maybe the bathroom, or the kitchen.” Henry looked around the room, scanning it for the phone when he saw it on the kitchen counter. “Yeah maybe you can check the bathroom and I’ll look around here.”

“Alright lad, be right back.”

Henry ran to the counter, picking up the phone and seeing the message from his mom. Typing quickly, he sent a reply.

K: I need to talk to you. 7pm, rooftop tomorrow. Please come.

He deleted the message and marked the one from his mother as unread. Putting the phone back on the counter, he yelled to the back of the apartment. “Found it.” He yelled down the hallway, holding up the phone he pulled from his pocket. “Sorry to bother you, it was on the counter.”

“Alright, well, glad you found it.”

“Thanks again.” He ran out the door and quickly snuck back into his apartment. Pausing in front of the bathroom to listen to the shower still running. He smiled as his mother sang.

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?

I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now.

A smile formed on his face. “Don’t worry mom, I’m going to make sure all your wishes come true.”

[sambergscott]

the best thing is you

just jake, amy, and their favourite things about being parents

There are a lot of things Jake loves about being a dad: stealing his kid’s food when he can’t finish his plate, sleepy cuddles before bed, putting on voices for all the characters in his books, and wearing matching Adidas Superstars. But if he had to pick his absolute favorite number one thing, playing with Sam’s toys would come out on top.

Luckily, their apartment is filled with toys, organised by type, colour and size into various bins and baskets and labelled (Santiago Style!) so he always knows where to put stuff during tidy-up time. If Jake so much as accidentally puts one red Lego block in the yellow Lego container, Sam tuts, rolls his eyes and snitches on him to Amy later.

He has lots of toys but it’s not like he’s spoiled or anything; Amy has a big family and he gets a lot of hand-me-downs. Amy helps him write thank you cards every time he receives a new toy, they constantly remind him how lucky he is and donate his unwanted items to less lucky girls and boys.

(During one decluttering sesh, he puts his favourite truck in the giveaway pile for another kid to play with and Amy almost cries. They’re biased, but they’re pretty sure that Sam is the best kid ever).

They re-enact Ninja Turtles scenes with his action figures, roam the apartment with his dinosaurs and play shop (which consists of Sam selling Jake tinned goods that he already owns).

Both Jake and Sam’s favorite thing to play is the appropriately titled Detective Daddy game.

In short, Jake wears his badge and a tie (even over his t-shirts because, as he explains in his Grandpa Holt voice that never fails to make Sam fall over in a fit of giggles, wearing a necktie in the workplace is very important) and interrogates the three year old until he confesses to his crimes.

It usually goes like this.

“Princess Mommy has been kidnapped!”

Dramatic gasp.

“And I think you took her.”

“Me?” He clutches his chest, feigning innocence.

“I found her tiara in your bedroom, I checked the baby monitor security footage and you weren’t where you said you were and most incriminating of all, I found your fingerprints on her Amy water bottle.”

“My name’s Amy!”

(He often confuses the fact that they share one of the same names and thinks his name is Amy, not Santiago. It’s kind of adorable).

“I checked your file,” he brandishes a manila folder he stole from work and drops it on the dining room table, “and your name is Samuel.”

He gasps again. “I didn’t do it, Officer!”

“Just admit it,” Jake growls playfully, leaning forward to intimidate the suspect.

Sam climbs onto the table and closes the gap all the way, booping his nose against Jake’s and making him break character for half a second.

“Admit you kidnapped Princess Mommy,” Jake insists, tickling him until he finally surrenders.

“I did it! I did it!” He cries. “I kidnapped Princess Mommy and Queen Karen!”

Cue Jake a dramatic gasp from Jake this time.

“You’re going to jail for a long, long, long, long, long, long time!”

Jail is a pillow fort in the corner of the room.

(It’s actually cosy and super comfortable; Sam sent Jake there one time when he played the role of detective the morning after Jake had worked a night shift and he may have fallen asleep until his son decided to jump on him to wake him up so they could have more fun).

Jake scoops the dangerous(-ly cute) criminal into his arms and throws him in pillow fort prison, then rescues his Princess and Queen from the couch.

Sam can’t get enough of cop related games. It warms both Jake and Amy’s hearts that he’s so proud of what they do; it makes all the late nights and time away from him totally worth it.

Victor and Camila buy him a Police Station Lego set for Christmas and, after constructing it with mommy and daddy, it sits pride of place on top of his dresser next to a framed picture of the three of them. The next time he visits the Ninety-Ninth precinct he brags to Rosa, Charles and all the uniformed officers about how his police station is way cooler than theirs.

That very Christmas, he plays cops and robbers for the first time and kicks Santiago cousin butt. Amy high fives him in front of her brothers, thrilled that Sam is continuing her legacy of being the best at the game.

Jake will come up with elaborate (kid friendly) cases that Sam is obsessed with, for example, “oh no! Someone stole a pizza from Sal’s and is getting away!”

“Not Sal’s!” Sam cries because even at three years old, he is aware that Sal’s is the best pizza place in Brooklyn. Like father, like son.

He chases his police cars around the living room, making siren noises and eventually cutting the bad guy’s car off before he can escape towards the bedrooms down the hall.

(They’re going out for a walk when their elderly neighbour offers him one of her grandson’s fire engines that he’s got too old for. Sam declines because firefighters are for losers and the FDNY suck. Amy shoots her an embarrassed smile and herds Sam away).

When it’s time for bed and all the toys have been put away, Jake tells him the story of how a cool, leather jacket-wearing detective married the youngest female Sergeant in the history of the Nine-Nine.

Sam asks to hear it again every night.

--

There are a lot of things Amy loves about being a mom: baking chocolate muffins and pretending not to see when he steals some of raw mixture (even though he has chocolate all round his mouth), sleepy cuddles before bed, singing to Disney hits at the tops of their voices and trying not to cry when he brags about his mom being the youngest female Sergeant in the history of the Nine-Nine to everyone they meet. But if she had to pick her absolute favourite number one thing, teaching Sam to read and write and count would come out on top.

She was always good at school. She got the highest grades. She loved crawling into her dad’s lap and reading to him, glowing under his constant praise. She didn’t need any help with the big words unlike Tony and it wasn’t long before her teacher advised that she skip fourth grade.

She studied Art History at college, topped her class, and was the best in her group of recruits at the Academy, too.

As her brothers started having kids, she loved helping them read and, as they got older, helping them with homework. She especially loved when they would confide in her that she’s smarter than their dads. Beating her brothers, even as an adult, was still her greatest joy. Until she fell in love and had a kid of her own and beating her brothers was demoted to third spot.

The Santiago genes are just as strong in Sam.

He’s like Jake in a lot of ways: his dark, unruly curls, his nose, his sense of humour, his penchant for dramatic reveals.

(Running into their room at 5am shouting, “Mommy! Daddy! I didn’t wet the bed last night!”, for example).

But he is smart. Santiago-level smart.

He learns to count to twenty before all his friends, is a super reader and bilingual.

Amy has been singing him Spanish lullabies since he was a newborn, teaching him his “Por favor”s and “Gracias”s, whispering “Te amo” as she kisses him goodnight. She cries so hard the first time he says it back.

It’s very important to her that he can speak Spanish so they have  lessons with daddy on Tuesday nights. She buys a textbook and makes them sit opposite her at the dining room table like they’re actually in school.

“¿Cuántos años tienes?” She asks him after their first lesson.

“Tengo tres años,” he responds with a proud smile that has Amy gathering him into her arms and smothering him with kisses.

Rosa has been teaching Jake Spanish for a couple of years but his brain is so full of case details and Die Hard quotes that Sam quickly surpasses him, joining Amy on her side of the table.

“Tell mama she’s pretty,” he instructs.

He furrows his brow, immediately looking to Amy for help.

“Luces bien.”

“That was it!” He snaps his fingers. “Luces bien, Ames.”

She blushes, tucks her hair behind both her ears and flicks to the next page of the textbook. She’s only in one of his hoodies and leggings, she’s not even sure when she last washed her hair, but her husband makes her feel beautiful. Always has done, right back to the time he said her dress makes her look like a mermaid.

Along with Spanish, she teaches him basic geography. He knows that Cuba is the largest island in the Caribbean, that Havana is the capital city and can draw the flag with his crayons. He shows off to Camila the next time they visit and earns himself an extra cookie.

He can write his name, too, and she remarks that at age three his penmanship is already better than Jake’s.

(Jake sticks his tongue out at her, even if it’s true).

Like Amy, he loves books. Loves the silly voices Jake makes as he reads, loves reading along with Amy and love love loves reading the book of Jake and Amy (illustrated by Terry) that Jake has made for his fourth birthday.

“Don’t you want to read a different book tonight?” She questions foolishly. They’ve read it three nights in a row.

“Nope,” he grins. “Mommy and daddy’s book.”

Her heart melts as she opens the book and he snuggles into his arms.

“It was her first day at the Nine-Nine...”

--

After an interrogation that went on longer than expected, Jake missed dinner and bath time and had to break several speed limits to get home in time for his bedtime story and goodnight kisses.

He locks the apartment door behind him and follows the sound of Amy’s voice to Sam’s bedroom, recognizing the story immediately.

“I’m hearing wedding bells!” Amy reads, doing a spot on impression of Charles’ voice.

Jake stifles a laugh, leaning against the doorframe and listening to his wife recite the story he knows so well.

There are a lot of things they love about being parents, but at the end of the day, watching Sam play and learn and cuddle their spouse is the best thing of all. And soon they will get to watch them do it all over again with Baby Peralta 2: Peralta Harder.

[brycelahelalover]

Relightning the spark

Pairing: Bryce × f!MC( Tesse Sterling )

Author's note: Hello!! I'm back witn another fanfic, though this one is going to be special to me. If you want to know why, stick around to the VERY end to know. Enjoy.

Warning: Angst.

Part 2 Part 3

The past

"... and Cinderella and Prince charming lived a happy life together. The end." Tesse concluded, closing the book.

"That story is.. lame." Snarked Keiki, rolling her eyes.

"But you chose it..." Said Bryce.

"Yeah, in hopes that it might be less lamer than the movie. But jokes on me, it was worse.. I don't know why mom insists on buying me this kind of books. I'm really not interested in reading stories about a Prince swiping the poor women off her feet." Responded Keiki while rolling her eyes again.

"You're a six years old girl." Said Bryce.

"Your point being?" Asked Keiki while arching her brow.

"You should like this kind of stories. About the princes and princesses and whatnot." Said Bryce like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"She SHOULDN'T like anything. And I agree with her. All Disney princesses stories are sexist. They all represent the girl as this fragile creature that needs the help of the man to get out of her miserable life." Added his girlfriend.

"See? Tesse gets it." Said Keiki while giving her brother a pointed look.

They continued bantering over which one of the Disney movies is less sexist when they heard a loud bang followed by a scream.

"Is that your mom?!" Tesse asked Bryce frantically.

"Yeah.. Tesse, Keiki, you two should stay here and lock the door after i leave." He said while looking in the door's direction.

"What? No, I'm coming with you." Replied Tesse, following him up from the foot of Keiki's bed.

"Tesse.."

"Bryce, no. I'm coming with you. End of story."

"You're a real pain sometimes, but fine... Keiki, you stay here. Quiet. We'll come back as soon as we can, alright?" Said Bryce.

"Okay." Responded Keiki, looking scared.

Bryce kissed his sister's forehead and then went and opened the door slightly, checking the hallway. Tesse followed him but not before giving the little girl a tight hug.

"You're going to be alright, okay?" She told her before her and Bryce left the room.

Bryce and Tesse walked the rest of the hallway quietly, as to not alert the intruder. But what they saw upon making it to the staircase was still up to debate, whether be it better than a burglar or not.

The grand hall was filled with armed police men. All of whom surrounding Akoni Lahela. Bryce's father.

"What's going on?" Said Akoni while one of the police officers is putting handcuffs on him, sounding enraged. But if you strain a little bit, you could hear the panic in his voice.

"Akoni Lahela, you are under arrest for charges of insider trading." Said the oldest looking officer, giving off an air of authority.

"WHAT?" Said everyone at the same time.

"There must be a mistake.." Said Akoni, looking around frantically as if searching for an escape.

"Save the act, Lahela. I'm not interested in hearing whatever story you're going to come up with." Said the officer, sounding even more agitated than before.

Then he turned to Bryce's mother, Rosalind, and addressed her.

"Mrs. Lahela, your presence is requested at the police station tomorrow."

"I didn't do anything." Rosalind said.

"That's still up for debate. Now.." The officer said before mentioning to the one holding Akoni to follow him.

Bryce ran down the stairs, stopping before the older policeman.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry but there has to be a mistake.. he.. we.. how?"

The officer laid a hand on Bryce's shoulder, speaking more softly.

"Son, your father DID that."

He patted the teenager's shoulder before turning to his father.

"Come on, off we go."

"I want to call my lawyer." Said Akoni through gritted teeth.

"Don't worry, Lahela. You'll get your call. Though not before you're put in a cell." He replied while leading the way out of the door.

Soon, their voices were replaced by the roaring engine of the retreating police cars and the grand hall became empty expect for Tesse, Bryce and his mother.

"Mom? What were they talking about?" Asked Bryce.

"Why are you asking me? I know nothing about that. Now.." Rosalind said before turning to Tesse.

"You're still here? Don't you have a home to go back to?" She added, turning up her nose to the girl.

"Don't you talk to her like that!" Said Bryce, glaring daggers at his mother.

"Bryce, it doesn't matter.." Said Tesse.

Indeed it didn't, since Rosalind was already marching up the stairs, looking like.. well, like someone whose husband didn't get arrested just a few minutes ago.

Tesse squeezed Bryce's hand, drawing his attention back to her.

"It's okay, and I should go home anyway."

"You can stay if you want to.." Said Bryce, drawing her to his arms.

"Nah, I really should go. Unless I want MY mom to rip me a new one." She said, hugging him back.

"Alright, I'll take you back, we should check on Keiki first though."

30 minutes later, they were standing in front of Tesse's house. They both got off the motorcycle and started walking towards the door in silence, holding hands. Upon making it there, Tesse stopped and then turned to her boyfriend.

"Do you want to come in and talk about.. earlier? I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind."

"Nah, I'd rather sleep it off."

"You sure?"

"Yup."

"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, I'll come pick you up like usual."

He said before bringing her lips to his in a sweet kiss after which Bryce turned and marched back to his bike. Tesse watched his retreating back before going inside.

The next day, upon setting their feet down into the school grounds, the stares and dirty looks started. It's like everyone decided that they were the most important people in the planet. True, Bryce and Tesse were among the "popular kids" but they weren't popular enough to claim this much attention. And Bryce knows what changed that.

"Everyone is looking at us." Said Tesse, looking between all her fellow students that are surrounding them.

"Of course they are." Replied her boyfriend.

"What do you mean?"

"You really need to start watching some news."

At her shrug, Bryce continued.

"The news of my father's arrest and the reason why got aired this morning. Everyone probably saw the headlines."

"Oh my god, Bryce. Are you okay?"

"As well as you'd expect."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nah, plus the bell just rang so we should hurry up."

Tesse cast a worried glance toward her boyfriend before they made their way towards class amongst all the whispers and dirty looks and pointed fingers which lasted the whole day and seemed to intensify with every new one. But what bothred Bryce the most were the comments Tesse was receiving from her supposed friends and practically every other person in school. He didn't care that much about the comments he was receiving, or didn't care as much as he can, since he felt a responsibility for what his father did. He couldn't say anything, especially to the kids who claimed that his father's deeds ruined their lives. But to have Tesse on the receiving end of that kind of treatment as well, that wasn't fair to her.

One of the times Bryce was present when few of the remarks were thrown at her was the Monday leading to prom. The two girls were pretending to be whispering behind their hands even though their voices could be heard clearly from Bryce and Tesse's spot just a few feet away.

"Isn't she planning to break up with him?" The first girl asked.

"Why would she?" Replied the second girl with a question of her own.

"His dad is a criminal."

"She's probably a part of what they did."

Bryce couldn't hold it in anymore. He turned to the girls, giving each of them a glare that could melt steel.

"Oh for goodness sake, would you two cut this rubbish.."

He could feel Tesse's grip in his elbow, trying to get his attention.

"Bryce, it's fine.."

"What? No, Tesse. It's not fine. Did you hear what they were saying about you?"

"Well, that's rich coming from the guy who refuses to speak up about himself."

"That's different."

"No, it's not." She said before sliding her backpack on her shoulder and making her way toward her next class.

And from there on out, Bryce tried to be with her as much as he can, even though Tesse wouldn't let him speak for her, not even once to the comments that were getting even harsher by the day.

It was the night before prom when he decided what he should do.

"Wanna go to our spot?"

Bryce sent the text that was answered a few minutes later.

"Sure."

"I'll come pick you up."

A few minutes later, Bryce was driving his bike to Tesse's house. And then they were making their way to their "spot" on companionable silence.

It was a cliff that overlooked Maui. They found it on their third date sophomore year. It wasn't that far from Tesse's home. Upon making it there, Bryce parked his motorcycle so that they can lean on it while looking at the view in front of them.

After a few beats, Tesse turned to him with a smile on her face.

"So, you ready for tomorrow?" She asked.

"About that.." He said while running his hand through his shoulder long hair.

"Yeah?"

"Tesse.. I don't think I can do this anymore." He whispered, barely keeping his tears at bay.

"What?" She said in a quiet voice.

"I think we should call it quits." Replied Bryce while looking at anything but her.

"Bryce.. are you joking?" Tesse said in a voice that betrayed the fact that she was trying to hold in her sobs as well.

"No."

"Why? Three years, Bryce. What could've made you do this now." She said, the tears having already escaped.

"Tesse, I'm not the person for you."

"And how do you know that?"

"Tesse, my dad is a criminal."

"I'm aware. And you're telling me that why? Bryce, I'm dating you, not your dad."

"Yeah. But as long as we're going to be together, you're going to be hurt from what people are going to say and your name is going to be dragged through the mud alongside mine. And you don't deserve that, Tesse. You deserve only the best." Bryce said, clutching her upper arms.

"But If the best isn't you, i dont want it." Said Tesse through sobs.

"Believe me, you don't to be with me right now." Said Bryce before kissing her forehead.

"Bryce, no.." Said Tesse, clutching his shirt in her fists.

Bryce extracted himself from her grasp before he climbed his bike and drove off into the distance. Leaving a broken heart in his dust while trying to convince himself that he did the right thing.

A/N: Hi, again. So this fanfic is going to have 2 parts, maybe more, I don't know. So as I said earlier, this fanfic is special to me because it's a collab between me and @tyrilsnightbloom who is going to be writing the next part.

P.S: want to be tagged? Tell me😊.

Tagging: @tyrilsnightbloom

[lunanight2012]

A Whole New World Chapter 1 Part 1

Key:

{Y/N} = Your Name

{E/C} = Eye Color

{H/L} = Hair Length

{H/C} = Hair Color

{S/C} = Skin Color

{N/N} = Nickname

{L/N} = Last Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later

(1st person pov)

A whole year has passed since I came to this world and you know what. I love it!

Harry and I have been paired together, and well. We kinda have a thing. I have long since gotten rid of my old clothes and became a full fledged pirate. Oh and Harry and I live together in his apartment.

He's become my best friend, I've never had a best friend so this was nice.

"{Y/N}! Hello? Ya coming?" Harry exclaimed from the hall.

"I'm comin!" I exclaimed, getting my bandana and tying it around my head, keeping my {H/C} {H/L} out of my face.

I headed out of the bedroom and over to where Harry was waiting for me at the door. I smirked, a very mischievous idea coming to mind. I grabbed his hook from him and bolted out the door, giggling like crazy.

"Get back 'ere!" Harry shouted, chasing after me, though I could hear the laughter in his voice.

I laughed as I dodged residents in the market, making my way towards Ursula's Chip Shop. 

Making it inside I placed his hook on the sword check barrel, placing my sword inside before I scampered off towards Uma.

"Bout time Ya showed up… where's Harry?" Uma questioned as I got on my apron to help out at the shop. 

I didn't even answer, just gestured at the door as Harry ran through, grabbing his hook off the barrel and placing his sword in the barrel.

"Ye little brat!" Harry exclaimed, though it was easy to see he wasn't angry, with that goofy smile on his face.

Yea I may or may not do this to him regularly, i perked up as Uma started to swear at the tv.

I walked over to the tiny television and watched with Harry, Uma, and Gil.

"WHAT? THOSE BASTARDS GET TO GET OFF THE ISLE AND WE DON'T???" Uma screamed.

I held Harry's left hand, we just stood there watching a limo pull up to the Auradon school and there they were. A bunch of scary idiots, Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay. Harry knew how much I wanted to get all the kids off the Isle, but we were Uma's crew so to Uma we wanted to get off the Isle ourselves.

Harry squeezed my hand, knowing what we were seeing was really bugging me.

"Uma! Imma take {Y/N} to the beach. She's not doin good." Harry explained untying my apron and dragging me out of the shop and down to the small littered beach.

"Come on {N/N} what's wrong? I know ye don't like that they got chosen to go to Auradon but what's really botherin ya?" Harry asked me, crossing his arms over his chest. 

I stared at the ground, not saying anything. I just wanted to tell him I like as more than a friend but I'm scared.

"I just feel horrible that those jerks get to go to Auradon and you guys don't. Why can't you guys have a nice life with those goody two shoes. I mean heck there's a lot of gorgeous girls in Auradon. I mean have you seen Prince Ben's girlfriend? What was her name???" I rambled on, trying to remember Aurora's daughter's name.

Harry lifted an eyebrow but went along with it. "Audrey? Yea she's alright. I ain't really the princess type if ye haven't noticed {N/N}." Harry stated, showing off his hook.

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. Suddenly a clinking bottle drew us away. Of course Captain Hook would find us here on this spot of the beach.

"Boy! Where the hell have ye been!! And who is this pretty thing?" Hook held out his hook, brushing some of my hair back. 

I cringed and backed away, only for him to grab my wrist with his non-hook hand, rather tightly might I add.

"Where do ye think yer goin? Yer coming with me!" Hook exclaime, a VERY creepy grin on his face.

Harry grabbed his fathers hand and ripped it off my wrist, pulling me behind him and glaring at his dad.

"She's mine pops. Fuck off and be pissed somewhere else!" And as soon as those words left Harry's mouth a loud smack could be heard, followed by me gasping.

Yeah, Captain Hook bitch slapped his son across the face. "How dare you talk to me like that you lowly punk! You sir are coming with me." Hook grabbed Harry's left wrist and dragged him away. 

Harry turned back to me, mouthing ‘get back to Umas now’

I whimpered, watching helplessly as harry was dragged away by Hook ‘im sorry’

~back at Ursula's Chip Shop~

I walked back into the shop, head hung low, trying to not cry.

"Where the hell have you bee- where's Harry?" Uma asked looking around.

"His father tried to take me away, so Harry stepped in and his father slapped him and took him away, it's all my fault…" I explained, a sadness to my tone.

Uma dropped whatever she was holding. "Dammit! That bastard is an abusive fuck! {Y/N} go find some bandages, and some needle and thread. Gil, go boil some water! It is gonna be a long day." Uma ordered.

I nodded and ran towards the stalls. Stealing everything Uma asked of me. Running back towards the Chip Shop all I could think of was what was gonna happen to Harry. Is he gonna be ok? This is all my fault. If we had just stayed at the shop-

"{Y/N}! Did you find everything?" Uma exclaimed, drawing me out of my mental breakdown.

I nodded and handed her everything. She nodded in approval and placed them behind the counter in a safe place.

And so while we waited for Harry to return, I helped out Uma at the Shop. It was a rough time helping out without Harry. Mostly because grown men were hitting on me and ugh!! I just want Harry to come back safe and sound.

2 hours later~~~~

I groaned as I held my head, tired of the drunken whistles and catcalls coming from the older male customers. And yes I've been grabbed a couple of times already. My butt, my wrists, my waist… need I go on?

I slumped against the bar as Uma pushed a plate towards me, with fish and eggs and oh!

Harry came in right then, his hook on his belt, hugging his right arm. I ran to him, tears in my eyes.

"Harry!!! I'm so glad you're back!! Wait what's wrong with your arm?" I asked, about to hug him but stopped as I noticed blood dripping down to the floor from his right arm.

"Dad fucked up my arm" Harry explained, wincing as he walked over to the bar.

Uma saw Harry and ran over to him. "I swear to Poseidon, I will kill that fucker dad of yours once and for all for what he's done to you! The bastard doesn't deserve to live!" Uma raged, her shell necklace glowing from beneath her shirt, trying to unleash umas anger, but to no avail.

Uma took Harry over behind the bar counter and got out the medical supplies and, Gil and I’s help, stitched the slice on his arm back up and created a sling for his arm. Uma ordered me to take harry home and make sure the cut didn’t get infected.

I sniffed as I eyed Harry’s arm, seeing blood splotches blooming beneath the white of the sling.

“Harry?” I whispered, he hummed, wincing as he turned to look at me “why did you do that for me? Protect me from your dad? It only caused you harm” he stopped walking, stared at me for a moment, that’s when I finally noticed his face, littered with bruises and cuts, his lip busted and scabbed, a blackening eye.

“I” he started, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, “I care about yeh lassie, I couldn’t let him do tha’ ta yeh, not on my watch”

I felt my eyes tear up. "N-no- no one has ever cared about me that much." I whispered, rubbing the tears from my {E/C} eyes.

Harry was surprised by that. "Really? Now tha' is surprisin'. Yer very special, don' ever let anyone tell ya differently." Harry stated, pulling me to his chest, I began to cry.

We stood like this for only a moment longer before people started noticing us. Harry grabbed my hand with his good one and we ran to the apartment. Ducking, jumping, squeezing past all the people in the marketplace was a task but we were both laughing by the time we got to the apartment.

I placed my palm on the door to open it, slightly wincing. But hey what can you expect from permanent scars on both of my palms, that still hurt even after a year.

Harry frowned. "Scars hurtin?" He asked me once we were inside.

"Yea. But it's alright." I smiled as I closed the door behind Harry.

"Let meh see 'em." He stated, holding out his good hand. 

I sighed and placed both of my hands in his hand. He pulled my hands up to his face and kissed them. My face turning bright red.

He smirked. "Ok lass. Now I've waited a year but I've got two questions for ye." Harry stated, sitting down on our rundown couch.

"Ok." I remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"First off. You mentioned you had an affinity for water. What do ye mean by that?" Harry asked me.

I sighed, sitting on the stool across from him. 

"Alright, guess I should expect this. When I was very young, really my entire life, my mom didn't really like me. And now that I think about it, no one in my family liked me. I never got what I wanted for my birthday. My mom kept me inside as much as possible. But when I was young, on rainy days I would sneak out to the backyard and sit on a big log that laid in the back of our backyard and would just giggle as the rain wouldn't touch me but would lightly swirl around me. Of course when my mom saw me she'd scream bloody murder and drag me back inside. Granted the minute she would grab me the rain would hit me. As I got older I learned that being "special" was not something people should know. I needed to keep it locked away. But that didn't make my relationship with my family any better. Actually 6 months before I arrived here I was kicked out of my parents house. I was only 14. I have my own small apartment. Actually, your apartment here is bigger than the one I had back on my world. And I had to lie about my age to get a job, AND I'm still in High School. So yea. Maybe coming here was the world's way of saying I needed a fresh start." I rambled on.

Harry chuckled. "Outside of this barrier is magic. And now I understand why you and Uma get along like sisters." Harry stated, leaning back.

"Har. You said you had two questions. What is the second question?" I asked, becoming curious.

"O-oh… *swallows* Well lass. Ye know I really like ye. And I was wonderin' would ye want to be meh gurl?" Harry asked, his face heating up.

I blushed but smiled, getting up and sitting next to Harry's good side. 

"I like you too harry, and yes i'll be yer gurl" I mocked his accent with a big smile on my face.

Harry smiled and leaned closer to my face. I smirked and grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Harry hummed into the kiss, pushing his passion into it. I felt his good hand cup my cheek. After a moment we broke apart, our breaths ragged.

I brushed his cheek with my thumb. "Well, you just had the honor of being my first kiss!" I giggled with a blush.

Harry smirkes. "Well I'm very much honored lassie~!" Harry winked at me. My face turned bright red in embarrassment.

I looked over at the cracked clock. 12:30pm.

Good thing it's saturday… wait it's thursday!

"Harry we've missed half of school. But with how hurt you are we'll skip today." I stated, standing up. Harry shrugged “eh, missing school is a good thing ‘ere remember? If every vk went to school everyday we would lose all our rep”

"I'm going to grab us some food from the mart. I'll be right back." I said smiling down at him. 

Before Harry could say anything I nicked his hook and left the apartment. Tying my bandana around my head I headed out to the market. Holding Harry's hook in my {dominant} hand.

I got to the market, scouring the stalls, I spotted a stall with semi-fresh fruit. Waiting till the owner wasn't looking, I snuck over and stole two apples, and two peaches. 

"Hey! What do you think your doing missy?" 

Shit.

I smirked, hiding the fruit in my bag and holding up the hook. 

"What did ye say?" I asked, mimicking Harry's voice.

The stall owner held up their hands. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were one of Uma's crew! Please t-take this." The owner handed me a bag of money.

I smirked. "Thank ye very much. Uma will be very happy." I thanked and left. Of course I hit a few stands too, getting eggs, fabrics, and even some potatoes that didn't look too bad.

As I walked back into the apartment I began to sing a song from my world. 

"I need another story. Something to get off my chest. My life is kind of boring. Need something that I can confess." I sing as I set the fruit in a basket that was on the cracked kitchen counter.

"'Til all my sleeves are stained red. From all the truth that I've said. Come by it honestly I swear. Thought you saw me wink, no. I've been on the brink, so." I twirled, putting the eggs in the fridge.

Harry watched me with his brow raised, clearly confused by me.

"Tell me what you want to hear! Something that will light those ears! Sick of all the insincere! So I'm gunna give all my secrets away!" I sang smiling like an idiot.

"Lass. Whatcha singin? Never hear'd that song before." Harry questioned, taking his hook back.

"Its a song from my world." I explained, something I hadn't noticed was that the gold ring around my pupils was getting bigger, slowly covering up my {E/C} eyes.

"Hmm sounds interestin'. Although I much prefer yer voice over everythin'." Harry stated, pulling me close.

I giggled. "Come on Harry. If your feeling well enough to cuddle then you can come with me while I take the money I got to Uma." I stated, holding up the bag of money.

"How'd ya get that?" 

"The stall owners saw yer hook and got scared shitless." I admitted, smiling.

Harry smirked and pulled me close, kissing my head. "I love ye so much lass!" He said into my hair.

I giggled. "Come on my pirate. Let's go see Uma." I smiled.

We left the apartment and headed for Uma's place. The Chip Shop to be exact.

As we get closer I hear singing. 

"What's my name? What's my name?" 

"Not again." I groan.

"Hmm? What's up lass?" Harry asked, curious.

"Uma's singing her what's my name song again." I explained standing outside of the shop. Harry's eyes dilated and he almost seemed like a different person.

He walked right into the shop and started singing. Great. I walked in after him. Not paying any attention to Uma, Harry, or the crew. I sat with my back facing them and ordered a plate of fish. Gil was sitting next to me, clearly too busy eating his eggs to participate in the singing. 

"Gil. Why do you eat so much eggs? Don't you get sick of them?" I asked him as my food arrived.

"No! I gotta eat lots to be like my dad!" He said with his mouth full.

I rolled my eyes, then I noticed that Gil's blonde hair was getting in his eyes. I stole a brown bandana off of a patron and handed it to him. 

"Here Gil. Use this. It'll help you match with the rest of the crew, and you'll be able to eat, walk, fight, talk, etc without having your hair in your eyes." I smiled.

Gil smiled and proceeded to tie the bandana around his head. As he did this I smiled, eating my fish.

"So how is Harry? I heard his dad did that to him. Glad my dad isn't that abusive." Gil stated. His hair looking more "piratey".

I nodded, glancing over my shoulder for a second to see Uma giving the crew commands on how to do the moves properly to her song.

"It's my fault he got hurt tho. His dad saw me and Harry protected me." I explained, sighing a bit.

I pulled on my necklace. This was something I had from my world. The only family member that cared about me was my grandma. But she died when I was 6. The necklace was from her. I never understood why the charm was important,  I can't read the engraving on it, but it was a large coin shaped charm that was smaller than the size of my palm on a sturdy string necklace.. But I don't take it off. The engraving on it was something I gave up on decoding when I was 12.

"{Y/N}?" Gil asked, getting me out of my thoughts.

"Yes Gil?" I asked.

"Why are you playing with your necklace?" He asked me with a slight tilt to his head.

"Oh. This was a gift from my grandma, she was the last person to ever actually care about me in my world. I can't understand the engraving though." I admitted, feeling the text again.

"Oh? Maybe Harry can help. He's really good at deciphering stuff." Gil stated eating another egg.

 "Oh? He never told me that." I said as I looked over at Harry and Uma who were chatting about work and stuff. "I'm not going to bother him with it though." I muttered, before looking back at Gil.

"How have you been today Gil? I haven't seen you all day." I asked, tucking my necklace back under my shirt.

"Been fine. My brothers were jerks today. I got a couple of bruises on my back from them. But I managed to get this bandanna from a stall today! Thank you for helping me!" Gil exclaimed with an innocent smile.

This child doesn't deserve to be on this wretched island.

"Your brothers' are horrible. They are just AHHHHHH--!" I screamed, gripping my head as my eyes turned golden, such a bad headache.

"{Y/N}!!" Harry exclaimed, rushing over to me. 

I groaned. "I-I'm fine. Bad headache." I groaned out, looking up at Harry.

"Yer eyes, ther' golden." Harry exclaimed, amazed.

I frowned and rubbed at my eyes. Why are they fully golden? That never happens. I groaned again and squinted up at Harry, Gil, and Uma. When did I get on the ground.

"How'd I get down here?" I asked, the headache finally disappearing.

Gil's face got closer to mine. "Her eyes are back to normal!" Gil exclaimed.

Of course more crew members started gathering around. And I became flustered.

"I-I'm f-fine." I stuttered, my face turning red from embarrassment.

"Alright everyone back to work!" Uma commanded.

[codyfernmorelikedaddyfern]

Killer Queen - Duncan x Royal fem!reader // Part Two

I think you look great today, reader :) Hope you enjoy this part two.

Read it all here.

Description: Fuelled by the same will to fulfil their families’ motives, (Y/N) decides to offer a deal to Duncan.

Warnings: Duncan Shepherd is a sexy bastard but that’s common knowledge. Use of British slang might take some people aback.

Word counts: 2625.

The tension grew thick enough for the both of them to grow comfortable with it. It took Duncan a few seconds to compose his thought and place his pieces down.

“And would that entail a horse riding lesson and a cup of tea by a lake with your plushies?” he pushed a step closer to her, trying to use his height to his advantage, his broad shoulders towering over her small frame. “Pardon my bluntness, Princess” he finished, his waist folded to bring his face closer to hers. “Would you rather have me pinned against the wall, Mr Shepherd?” she finished, getting Duncan’s breath to catch the back of his throat.

“Yes, I’m sure you would” her voice trailed off as eyes watched his lip slowly quiver. Was it anger, frustration or arousal? Duncan didn’t even know himself. “I don’t usually allow intruders to join when I am sharing a cuppa with my teddy bear and as much as I would love to watch you squeal at the back of a horse so should we settle this little deal over dinner?” Duncan calmly agreed, straightening himself and his jacket. He had found his match and the idea of it was rather unsettling and frustrating.

 Quickly peeling her eyes off of his, she walked back to retrieve her heels after finishing her round around the horses. Sliding her little feet in her heels, she looked back at her guest as he calmly followed her. (Y/N) walked to the heavy set of doors Duncan had opened for her, a guard now posted there to open it for her.

Her eyes rolled internally and she made her way back inside, thanking the staff on her way with a smile. Her steps were slow as she made her way down the halls to the room she had previously met the man following her. The door opened and she made her way back inside of the room, the stench of horses and Duncan behind her. His mother quickly sprung to her feet while the princess stepped into the room.

“There she is” Harry said, subtly wiggling his eyebrows. (Y/N) quickly noticed the absence of her father. And she quickly invited Annette to sit back down. “No need for these formalities when our father is not around, Mrs. Shepherd” she gently spoke to the woman, watching her take her seat back down. “I apologies for taking so much time off of your hands, I have now returned your son”. Her voice was so composed and soft, Duncan thought. “Her Royal Highness has invited me for dinner tonight, mother, so I’m afraid I will not be able to join you until later on”.

 The young woman won an interested look from both of her brothers, happily surprised by the news dropped by Duncan. They both stood up, quickly followed by Annette who walked to her son. “That is great news Duncan, let’s not make anyone lose any more time and be on our way.”

She quickly thanked the royals, William inviting them to follow him. The American brunette quickly went to bow to (Y/N) and she gingerly grabbed his hand. “Where are you staying, Mr. Shepherd? I will get a car to come and collect you for dinner” her gesture somewhat took him aback. Quickly fumbling his answer, finding himself flustered. They both agreed for 7pm and he then was on his way back with his mother. Once out of earshot, he released a loud sigh, looking back at his mother. “This is going to be harder than you had thought, mom”.

Harry gave (Y/N) a somewhat protective yet proud look as William closed the door behind him. “Am I assuming right if I say that you’re inviting him over for a date tonight?” his mischievous smile brought his little sister to laugh. She shook her head and gently went to pat his shoulder. “Harry. When you assume, you make an Ass out of U and Me” he joined in her laughter.

 7PM struck shortly after (Y/N) reached her own residency in the heart of Kensington Palace and Duncan was invited in the SUV waiting for him in front of the hotel, spending the short drive trying to lay down the pieces of the puzzle he would have to toy with throughout the evening. The comfortably large apartment he was driven to stood on the highest floor and she had changed it into a comfy little nest. The bell rung and the young woman moved to the door to welcome Duncan in her pad.

“I assumed that bringing you flowers would be too formal so I settled for a bottle of wine.” His voice rang as he stepped inside of the apartment. The sight of his shoes on the wooded floor somewhat made (Y/N)’s skin crawl. “You know, I said I wasn’t keen on protocol but I have 2 rules in my house and rule number one is No Shoes Inside.” she pointed at his muddy feet. “But thank you for the wine, I appreciated it” she gently picked the bottles off of his hands, carrying herself to the kitchen to place it in the fridge while Duncan struggled to untie his shoes and take them off.

She came back to his view and she placed her hands forward “let me hang your coat” she whispered as he peeled the jacket off of himself and handed to the young woman who quickly walked to the long cupboard in the opposite corner of the foyer to hang it.

 “Come on in, I'll show you around, I guess?” she pushed her (Y/H/C) away from her face. Pulling him inside of the apartment, she showed him the important bits and pieces. The bathroom, the living room and the kitchen.  

“I do need to apologies, I did not have time to cook anything, my schedule overrun slightly.

- Her royal highness cooks for herself, his tone was truthfully surprised.

- I do indeed, she softly giggled, should we order some food? Like a curry or a pizza or something?”

 Her hair were loose, falling over her shoulders, clad in a simple tee shirt and sweatpants, the feet Duncan thought to be so dainty wrapped in a pair of comfortably fluffy socks. She looked very different. Like a normal girl, the American thought. He nodded to her offer. “Whatever her majesty would like” a grin spread through his features. The young woman motioned towards the spot next to her on the couch, inviting him to join her.

“Pizza it is, then” (Y/N) mumbled as she fished in her pocket for her phone, quickly scrolling through on her screen. “I hope you are not the type of person to have pineapple as a topping, otherwise we don’t even need to discuss a deal, Mr Shepherd” she commented, looking at up at him through her eyelashes. She does look like a normal girl, Duncan thought again before scoffing at her remark. “I’ll have whatever you have” he tried to smile, his plan of scheming his way through the conversation still being made up in the back of his head. “When did you decide to drop the title, Mr Shepherd? I was rather fond of it” (Y/N) gently teased, poking his knee with her ever so dainty little foot.

“I’ve never been much of a crowd pleaser, (Y/N).” Duncan smirked at the sight of her small frame hurdled in the corner of the sofa. The lump in his throat grew tight again at the thought of the imminent conversation. A plan. He didn’t have one and that tore a gash in his mother’s scheme. The voice of the monarch excitedly informing him the order was placed pushed him out of his thoughts. She stood to her feet, asking him if she could offer him a drink to which he requested a simple glass of water. The light sound of her feet disappeared towards the kitchen, pouring two large glasses of water before returning within his earshot. (Y/N) handed him his cup which he thanked her for, taking a small sip from it.

 “Should we rip the Band-Aid now and discuss this so call deal, my dear” he struggled to keep his voice from trembling. “What are your motives?” his voice finished as he brought the cup back to his lips. The old job interview trick always worked. “It is no secrets that my father would like to see me engaged within the next few years”. Her words caused him to harshly choke on his water like he thought he would earlier that day, a few cough ripping through his throat as he tried to process her words and she rewarded him with a soft giggle. “So what, you want me to marry you” he asked, his face flushed from the incident that had just transpired.

“Of course not. Arranged marriage is not an option in my book”. His brows pulled themselves together. “So what exactly is you offer, Your Majesty” Duncan teased again, trying to shift the tables around once more, puffing his chest in a poor attempt to appear superior and in control. But he know just how far he was from grasping the situation. “I will be perfectly honest, Duncan, I do not have anything in my favour from being associated with you”. Her words somewhat plunged in his self-esteem. “However, there is not many Royals who do not have a ring around their fingers yet so it does not seem like you have much of a choice but to pull your aces out of your sleeves now, tell me precisely what you want from me and I’ll think about what I can gain from it.”

His mind raced for but a second, his cup brought to his lips and his icy blue gave dripping into hers. She was no match to his games and he under estimated her for being a woman however, that is precisely why she had the upper hand in this twisted puzzle. She had already displayed all of her pieces on the table and now that he could see it unfold, he had to push the rights buttons to strike his bargain.

Duncan tried to dismiss the knot in his throat by swallowing a large gulp of water. “Exposure. That’s all I would request from you” the shakiness in his breath could not be held back, painfully outsmarted by this nimble little thing. “As you mentioned, your father wants you married so if that is a bother to you, maybe the sight of the both of us will get him off of your back for a couple of, let’s day, months” the American finished, the intense throbbing of his heart in his chest nearly audible to the delicate princess.

 “I guess that could work but why should I accept? You are going to fly back in a few days once you have fulfilled your duties and then I will busy myself with my ones” (Y/N)’s tone remained unchanged, unbothered. Calm and collected. “Your family’s distaste for Claire Underwood nearly matches mine. Plus I could offer much more behind closed doors”. His mouth spoke before his mind and he directly cursed himself for it. “I’m sure you could” the duchess smiled warmly, unsettling Duncan’s footing once more. “And I’m sure we could grow fond of each other, I thought you mentioned enjoying my company earlier”. There it was. (Y/N) pulled her teeth to her bottom lip, biting at it. “Two weeks” she released the plump and somewhat sore flesh of her mouth to speak. “That’s all I’m giving you, Shepherd. And if I do see you growing that backbone of yours, I might extend the contract.”

 She sprung to her feet while the bell rung once more and he wiped his clammy hands on the legs of his slacks, releasing a heavy sigh. The front door opened after a short shuffling and he was left with his own thought. Fishing deep in his pocket to inform his mother of the situation, he heard the creaking of the entrance once more, the smell of pizza hitting his nose once more. (Y/N)’s voice trailed to the kitchen as she opened the boxes, displaying them on the large island in the middle of the room.

He made his way towards her, slumping against the archway leading to her. He watched her. She was probably a foot shorter than him and the height difference was somewhat endearing to him. The royal’s body turned on her heels right as he silently crept up closer, her eyes met with his chest about a couple of inches away from her nose. Her eyes trailed up his torso to meet his. “Sneaking up on me now?” her voice joked before he took a step back his gaze still deeply plunged in her (Y/E/C) one. Duncan sat effortlessly on the high stool she motioned towards before watching her climb up to hers, still trying to create an eye contact while she worked her hardest to avoid it.

For once, she gave up first and met his eyes with a gentle sigh. “I’m not on the menu tonight, Duncan. Your food is on the table, not across from it”. The American scoffed before chowing on some of his pizza. “What can I say, I’m a bit of a sucker for beautiful women” his voice attempted. (Y/C) rolled her eyes at the comment before chuckling herself. “I must admit that you look much better in person” he carried on, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand. Her gaze was now on the floor, purposefully avoiding the slow burn of his eyes. “Such a small and smart little thing you are, you Grace. It surely would be a shame if my so called backbone wasn’t the only thing to grow”

 He did it again, this time, not expecting the loud laugh escaping the young woman. “I hope you are not alluding to what is dangling behind your legs” (Y/N) threw a mischievous gaze his way while crimson somewhat crept on his cheeks. “I was actually hinting at your fondness for me, but I guess that could work too”.

The princess jumped back to her feet, making her way to the fridge to pull the bottle of wine Duncan had brought with him, picking two empty glasses, a small chuckle still shaking her chest. He didn’t think, again, and he stood to his feet, inching closer to her and wrapping his comparably large hands around hers to open the bottle with her. Her shoulders suddenly sank back in her body, the back of her head brushed against the warmth of his collarbones and then her back against his chest. Damn, she truly was a small and dainty little thing he thought.

(Y/N) quickly thought about how tall he was too, practically towering over her even she is she was to wear her highest pair of heels. With one hand still wrapped around the neck of her bottle, holding her fingers against his, he took the first glass to fill it with wine. Then the second.

His thumb quickly caught the stray drop of the red liquid spilling off of the opening of the bottle and her eyes followed his hand as he broke the contact of their fingers and he brought the small smear to his lips to taste. He kept his digits curled the second glass, clinked it against the first with a soft “Cheers” whispered to the shell of her ears, then peeled his chest from her shoulder blades, walking back to the stool he took. He failed to notice how she had made herself tinier than she originally was and how her fluffy socks were all bunched up against her curled toes.

[shy-badger]

A Strange Moment in time CH.2

Rayla couldn’t believe it. Viren was here. In the castle. That had to be impossible. He had died, twice, by her own hand. Yet his lightning blast had just missed her head by a hair’s breadth. She thought she heard him say something about the throne room, she couldn’t let them get there. Callum and Ezran were there planning the parade to celebrate the stopping of the war. And that wasn’t all.

“Mum?” the confused voice behind her brought her back to her senses. Her daughter had forgotten her drawing book in her room, and Rayla had walked with her to go get it. That’s when she had heard the commotion in the king’s study.

“Sweetie, Get back!” Rayla pushed her daughter out of the way of Viren’s wind blast only to be knocked into the wall with enough force to give her a headache.

“You brought a child to infiltrate our castle? You elves really are monsters.” Viren Spat at her.

Then she saw them, A man and woman who looked just like Callum’s drawings of his parents, both carrying a child in their arms. The man, King Harrow, grabbed a sword from a nearby suit of armor statue, not setting the young Callum look alike down, only moving to place himself and the sword between herself and his ward.

“Stand down, and you might make it out alive.” He threatened.

“Sweetie, go get your father.” Rayla said not taking her eyes off the group.

“Right!” The small elf bolted around the corner only to instantly reappear. 

“Okay but like, What am I supposed to tell him? Because right now it sort of looks like...”

“I know what it looks like. Just tell him that Viren is back and he’s using nasty illusions.” Rayla cut her off.

Her daughter bolted away again, leaving Rayla to focus on stopping Viren before he could put anyone else in danger. She leapt forward.

Viren swung his staff. Rayla ducked, then swiped at his feet. Viren fell. Rayla stabbed. Viren rolled swinging the staff, and struck Rayla in the ribs. That bought him enough time to get to his feat. A slash meant for Viren’s head was blocked by the staff. He kicked at her. Rayla side stepped and struck him in the head with the pommel of her sword. An opening. She rammed him with her shoulder and he fell into a suit of armor. It clattered as it fell over him. She seized the opportunity and brought both swords down to end him.

Harrow’s sword blocked hers with a clang. He no longer held the young Callum, who was hiding behind his mother. Rayla flipped backwards. Even though they were illusions, they had a real impact, like Ava’s fake leg. Viren climbed to his feet again.

“Looks like it’s two against one, elf.” Viren sneered as he began drawing a rune in the air. 

Rayla rushed to stop him. Harrow stepped between them and blocked her swords. A second slash missed his face. Harrow stabbed. Rayla blocked. The Harrow leapt to the side. As her eyes followed him, Viren yelled.

“Aspero Aestus!” A wall of scorching wind grazed her shoulder. The tapestry behind her was set aflame. Viren followed with a downward slash of his staff. Rayla backstepped. The staff bounced off the stone floor, and Viren used that momentum to stab at her. Rayla deflected the shot to the side and pivoted. Viren stumbled, crashing into the wall just below the burning tapestry.

“Aspero frigus!” Icy wind swept over Viren, encasing him in a block of ice before he could rise to his feet. Callum, her husband, ran forward and lifted his foot above a frightened Viren. With a hefty stomp to the head, Viren lost consciousness.

Harrow couldn’t believe it. There was a man who looked remarkably like his son, (his STEP-son, he must remind himself) who just trapped and knocked out his best friend with extreme prejudice. And yet the first thing he did after was to check to see if the elf was uninjured. 

“I’m fine.” she said before he could even ask. “Listen, Callum.” She cupped his cheek and looked towards Harrow and his family. Not with the anger or malice he would have expected from an enemy of Katlis, but instead with a sort of sadness. “Viren was using some nasty illusions. He-”

“We are no illusions. As king of Katolis I command you to release my friend.” Harrow mustered as much authority as possible, despite how a mage and an elf, would most likely be too much to handle while trying to protect his children behind him.

He tried to raise his sword but was stopped by Saria as she stepped forward and lowered his sword for him..

“Callum?” The name came out as a whisper.

When the man finally saw them for the first time, there was shock and pain in his eyes, then they hardened as he raised his hand and drew a rune in the air.

“Perdo Mendacium.”

A wave of energy rushed out from the rune, sweeping over everyone before they could react. When it was gone, Harrow and his family seemed completely unaffected, Viren however looked as though he had just used a lot of dark magic. This however went unnoticed by the man and the elf, who instead were clearly expecting something else to happen to the rest of them. After a moment of confusion, tears formed in the man’s eyes, and his voice broke as he spoke.

“Mom? Dad? Is… is it really you?”

There was a clamor as a group of guards rushed in behind ‘Callum’, swords and halberds at the ready. They surrounded Viren, chains rattling as they began to break the ice and handcuff him.

“Your Highness. What should we do with…” The guard began, only to stop as he saw Harrow and his family behind him.

“Take him to the dungeon. Make sure you take away anything he has on him. We can’t let him use any magic.” Callum commanded, snapping out of his daze, if only for a moment.

“Sir, what is going on here.” The guard asked as the rest began hauling Viren away.

“I don’t know.” Callum said. “This can’t be real.” He began walking towards them, as Sarai did the same.

“Callum? Is it really you?” Sarai reached up and cupped his cheek. His hand covered hers.

“Yeah, it’s really me. What are you guys doing here? And, is that… me behind you? What is happening here?” Callum’s disbelief mirrored Harrow’s.

Harrow picked up young Callum and spoke.

“We don’t know what is happening. One minute we were in my study, the next there was a gust of wind, and we were here. Callum, Why did you attack Viren? He’s like your uncle. And what are elves doing here?”

Callum looked at him as though he were a ghost. 

“Dad. I can’t believe it. It’s like you guys stepped out of a painting. Or you came from the past? I don’t know but you’re not illusions. This is so weird. Oh Viren.” Callum seemed to only just hear his question.

“Dad, Viren is a traitor. He tried to kill Ezran and I after you…” His voice broke. Once again the pain returned to his eyes. “After you died.” Harrow faltered hearing that. Could this really be the future? So much of what just happened in the last five minutes seemed like something out of a mad man’s ravings.

“As for the elf, well... um… a lot has happened while you were gone and… well. Meet my wife, Rayla.”

The elf stepped forward, and waved awkwardly. 

“Um, greeting your highnesses. I’m sorry for batting you before, I thought you were just illusions  Viren was using to try and manipulate us. I am Rayla of the moonshadow elves.” She took a small bow.

Harrow then noticed the small elf looking from behind the corner. She had short horns coming from out of her dark brown hair. Rayla followed his gaze and motioned to her to approach.

“It’s ok sweetie. We don’t know what’s going on but it’s safe.”

"Oh right. Mom, Dad," that still felt weird to say to them in person. Of course it was weirder than anything just having the opportunity.

"This is Sarai, my daughter."

The small half-elf stepped forward, clearly nervous to approach someone who was just fighting their mother and now must accept them as her family.

“Um hello. I am, uh, Princess Sarai. And I know that your name is Sarai too. You look just like the old paintings… oh i mean, er, i DIDN’T mean that you look old. Just that the paintings were old. You don’t look old. You look great. Um really good…” She stepped back to Callum’s side and bowed. “Nice to meet you, your highnesses.”

“Your Highness. Would you like me to inform King Ezran?” The guard behind them interrupted them.

King Ezran. So it was true. Harrow really was dead here.

“No, thank you Marcos, but I think I should tell him. Um… Would you guys like to meet him?” Callum asked.

Harrow nodded. He had so much to ask and learn about this new world they seemed to have fallen into. At Callum’s direction, Harrow followed, family in tow.

[teannamon]

The Black Cat and the Princess (ML Fic) 2

[ Family Switch AU ]  Marinette’s the only child of fashion icon Gabriel Agreste, and Adrien is the adopted child of Sabine and Tom Dupain-Cheng, two of the best bakers in Paris. What happens when their paths meet? 

  ↫ Chapter 1

Marinette trips. Chloe shows off her very talented and famous friend. Misunderstandings ensue. Adrien gets an unexpected gift after class.

Marinette nervously fidgeted with her skirt as her father took a look at her outfit. He asked her to see him before leaving to make sure that she’s dressed appropriately, aka make sure she’s representing his brand properly.

“I believe you’re well-dressed enough to leave. Is that skirt another one of your creations?” he asked while gesturing to the skirt patterned with butterflies made from lace at its hem. She nodded in response.

“Good work, is that for personal or do you plan on adding it to another collection?”

She shook her head, “I don’t plan on making any collections anytime soon since I want to focus on school first, Father”.

Gabriel sighed and muttered “What a shame, at least when you were homeschooled you had a laidback schedule”.

As soon as she heard it, she huffed in annoyance, ‘I can’t believe he’s still at it, it’s already a week since I enrolled’.

Her father stood up, “I’ll see you out”.

With that she followed suit while putting her bag back on. He only saw her out til the front door and quickly said their goodbyes. Her driver/bodyguard is already waiting inside the car and Nathalie opened the car door for her.

She thanked the woman as both of them entered the car. Marinette is nervous to say the least, sure she’s always wanted to attend a public school but she has no idea what studying with other people would be or how she should act, and adding the fact that she’s actually a ditzy klutz in her everyday life only adds more to her anxiety.

“Marinette,” Nathalie started which shook Marinette from her thoughts and looked at the woman beside her.

“Y-yes?”

“For your lunch breaks, please inform me where you’ll be and who your companions are. It’s for precaution your father insisted”

Once again, she huffed in annoyance before muttering a ‘fine’ as a more than sufficient reply. The rest of the drive to the school is eerily quiet.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

“Well you’re up very early, Adrien” Sabine noted with a chuckle as she got up to their kitchen to see her son, already stuffing his face with croissants looking ready to go. He swallows the last one and gets up from the counter.

“Morning mom,” he kissed her cheek “I’ll be walking with Alya and Nino so I needed to be early”

Sabine smiled at his enthusiasm as he left for downstairs, “Don’t forget the box on your way down”

“I won’t, thanks!”

Adrien skipped down the stairs as he opened the door into the bakery to see Tom already fixing the pastries on display. “Morning dad,” he greeted

“Oh, good morning, son. I have two boxes prepared for you just in case” he placed an arm around his son and handed him a paper bag with, indeed two boxes of their special macaroons. Adrien smiled and hugged the huge man, “Thanks dad, you’re the best”

He turned to leave with a goodbye and headed for the park a few blocks away.

Nino was already waiting with his phone out, ‘Probably playing Super Penguino again’ Adrien thought as he crossed the road.

His DJ friend didn’t seem to notice him so he tapped furiously on his phone and Nino looked up, “Hey! I was about to beat my hi-score!” he yelled at the blonde culprit who just laughed.

“If anything, I actually helped” he teased. Nino was about to retort back but was quickly trapped in a tight hug by his girlfriend who came sprinting around the corner.

“Ready to go, boys?” Alya asked as Nino pried himself off her breathtaking (literally) hug. He wheezed and gave a thumbs up.

The trio walked towards their school while chatting when suddenly Alya shrieked. The two guys looked at her in confusion and surprise when Alya practically shoved her phone in their faces.

“Care to explain what we should be looking at?” Adrien questioned while straining his eyes to look at Alya’s screen just a few inches off his face.

She pulled back her phone and composed her initial freak-out mode that happens when something amazing or major comes up. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Ok,” she started “remember the mysteriously mysterious super famous new person attending Lycée with us that Chloe tweeted like last week?”

The boys nodded.

“And?”

“Well, it turns out that this the mysteriously mysterious super famous new person attending Lycée with us is Marinette! Aaaahh!” Alya shrieked again.

“Woah! Seriously!” Nino looked at the tweet Chloe just posted. A selfie of Chloe with her arms around a nervously smiling blunette near the entrance of their school.

“Who?” their blonde companion looked at the picture and the couple audibly gasped at him in disbelief like he just popped a second head.

“I can’t believe you don’t know her, she’s like the cutest fashion idol. Made her own collection at the age of 12, not to mention she’s the only daughter of Gabriel Agreste and- Oh my God! I should have worn her Ladybug Collection blouse for today if I had known, Ughhh!”

“Alya chiiill~” her boyfriend assured, “you look good already if I must say so myself”

Alya laughed and composed herself one more time, “You’re just biased cause I’m your girlfriend” and Nino shrugged.

‘She seems like an interesting person; I hope we have some classes together’ Adrien happily thought as the trio continued their walk with Alya practicing how to say hi to the blunette should she see her at school.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Before Marinette could even reach the entrance, she heard the familiar voice of her only friend outside of the industry. Although, they did meet because of connections she didn’t see their relationship as something due to connections and obligations she has to fulfil.

“Mariiiiii~” Chloe approached her with Jean behind her, umbrella in hand. Marinette returned her affections by kissing her on both cheeks.

“Hi Chloe, thanks again for the scholarship idea I probably wouldn’t have been able to convince my dad otherwise”

“Oh puh-lease, it was nothing if it meant getting out of that jail you call mansion. No offense” she remarked to which Marinette laughed, “None taken”

Chloe fished out her phone from her purse and excitedly draped an arm around the blunette. Marinette nervously smiled at the camera, knowing all too well what Chloe is doing.

Click!

“We look so cute together” Chloe gushed at the picture and her eyes trailed down to her skirt, “that skirt is fabulous, do I smell an upcoming collection?” she asked as she took a full body picture of Marinette in all her fashion glory.

“Oh this? It’s nothing I don’t plan on starting a new project soon”

Chloe pouted, still occupied with posting the photos on all her socials “What a shame, we could’ve been wearing matching designs for the whole school year to show off”

“Go on, Marinette, your first class starts at 8. You don’t want to be late” Nathalie informed her as she placed a shoulder on the girl and handed out her bag. Marinette reached for her bag and thanked Nathalie as Chloe practically dragged her towards the school.

“So, Mari, let me see your sched” Chloe asked as they walked in the middle of the courtyard and Mari stood there for a minute before realizing what she meant.

“O-oh yeah, sched, the schedule. Hold on, I think Nathalie added it to my tablet” she opened her bag to pull out said device and opened up her schedule for her friend to look at. Chloe scrunched her nose up obviously displeased at her schedule.

“How is it that we don’t have any classes together but PE? It’s like the universe is asking me to stay away from you. Ugh, this is utterly ridiculous,” she grumbled before turning back to Marinette “but no worries, your BFF, Chloe Bourgeois is here to make sure you don’t fail at anything”

“Uh, thanks, I guess?”

Just then, they heard shrieking from behind them. Both girls turned around to see a brunette girl looking their way being shushed by two guys.

“Alya! Shush, everyone’s looking at us now” the dark-haired one said in a harsh whisper.

“I can’t believe it; it really is her. Nino, please tell me I’m not dreaming” the girl grabbed the boy by the collar and shook him while still keeping their eyes on Marinette’s direction. The boy can’t formulate proper sentences as he’s shaken back and forth mercilessly.

“Time to go Mari,” Chloe grabbed her wrist as they walked up the stairs towards the classrooms. Chloe stops by the door next to the stairs.

“My class is here; your room is 3 doors over. See you later for lunch Mari” the blonde girl waved as she entered the door.

The young fashion designer finally reached her room and was about to open the door when someone opened to which she instinctively stepped back.

To her misfortune she tripped on someone’s foot behind her and stumbled down with them bags and some miscellaneous items sent toppled over her. Her butt expected to land on the cold hard floor but instead found herself on top of someone’s lap.

“A-are you ok, miss?” the person she’s currently on top of asked. Marinette turned her head towards the person to see one of the guys from earlier.

“Y-yeah, I guess…” she managed to say as she got off his lap momentarily and reached for her fallen bag.

“Oh no! The macaroons!” the blonde panicked as he started picking up the pastries around them and placing them in the open box now on the floor. In a blind panic he’s not aware of where he’s picking them off from.

Between her skirt and her legs is where most of them landed and she can feel the guy’s touch in the most inappropriate of places. He’s about to reach for one that somehow landed on top of the opening of her blouse when she swatted his hand, stood up and let the macaroon fall.

Marinette was reduced to a blushing mess while covering her chest with her hand and the other one holding her bag in front of her legs as she looked down the guy with anger. She couldn’t find the words to say at the moment, so she just huffed and entered the room in a dash.

Adrien was left there dumbfounded wondering what just happened when suddenly something in his brain clicked. He was mortified by his actions and he feels so ashamed.

‘Oh no, she’s a famous person right. Holy shit, she’s going to report me for sexual harassment’ he screamed internally pulling at his hairs.

“Yo Adrien, what happened?” Nino ran towards his friend and helped him get up with his things too. The DJ took this opportunity to pop some macaroons into his mouth while picking them up from the floor, its not like people would like from-the-floor macaroons he thought to himself.

The blonde stayed quiet, still internally screaming and having an existential crisis with himself. ‘Ok, as long as I don’t see her for the rest of the day. She won’t remember my face or what happened right?’

He let that thought calm him down, but it did not last long when he met eyes with her once again inside the classroom. ‘I spoke too soon, dammit’

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!”

“Alya, keep it down. Please” Adrien pleaded at his journalist friend who just stood up and pointed an accusatory finger at him. People at the café were throwing confused and annoyed glances at their table.

Nino arrived with their drinks a moment later before sitting back down. “Hey, if you don’t keep it down we’ll be kicked out before you know it”

Adrien sighed, “That’s what I’ve been telling her y’know”

“I don’t want to be associated with someone named Adrien Dupain-Cheng anymore” Alya huffed as she avoided looking at her blonde friend while reaching for her drink.

The guy in question pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh, “It was an accident and I panicked ok. It’s not like I wanted to ghost my hand over her body” he tiredly explained.

“Also, is it good or bad luck that she’s your classmate in every one of your subjects?” Nino pointed out.

“Ugh don’t remind me. I think I would’ve died if looks could kill” Adrien shuddered at how she always sat at the back and he can feel her eyes stabbing him from behind. Physics was even harder because he was forced to look back at her when passing the worksheet and it felt like her eyes bore through his soul.

Alya stayed quiet. Adrien knows that she really wanted to talk to the fashion designer but if she’s see with him she might not be able to- quote unquote -for the rest of her life.

“Look, I’ll apologize and give in a good word to her for you will that be ok?” he looked at the brunette expectantly.

“That goes without saying pretty boy, you should apologize with or without me pouting here” she said as a matter-of-factly and Nino nodded while sipping his drink.

Meanwhile, in another table.

“So, there was this this blue-haired girl in my Physics class named Kagami and she’s like so pompous and shit. I mean she is smart, but you don’t need to rub it in EVERY SINGLE TIME” Chloe vented to the blunette on the other side of the table with exaggerated hand gestures.

Marinette listened to Chloe’s ‘first day vents’ as the blonde called it, she never knew that listening to someone vent was fun and like a breath of fresh air. She never was someone who openly let out all her rage through words and always kept it in because it’s what she’s taught; that whenever in a corporate situation where something infuriates you, you breathe in and don’t lose your composure or else everyone will.

“-nette? Marinette?”

“Huh? Did you say something, Chloe?” she snapped back to their conversation.

“I was asking how your classes was so far” her companion repeated.

“Well…” her mind went back to the tripping incident this morning and how she basically glared at the guy whenever she had the chance waiting for an apology. How lucky is it though that he was in every one of her classes so far?

“…it was a somewhat exciting, it was mostly getting to know and a lot of people were surprised to see I was there to say the least” she answered, leaving out the embarrassing highlight of her day so far.

“That’s to be expected, you are a famous designer among teenagers and we’re, well, surrounded by teenagers at school” Chloe chuckled as she gestured around her, then her phone chimed right after.

“Should we go?” she asked as she slung her bag on her shoulder. Marinette looked at the time, “Isn’t it a bit early?”

“Yeah, but I have an early elective subject and it looks like its gonna rain later. I’d much prefer if the ground wasn’t wet when I’m out and about”

She looked up and the sky does look like its about to rain.

■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

“It was a bit exhausting but it’s nothing I could handle” Marinette told her father through the phone. As soon as her last class ended, he called like he knew precisely what time she’s free.

“The Gorilla is on his way, there was a slight traffic cause of the sudden rain so just wait for a couple of minutes”

“Alright, alright. Bye”

She decided to wait by the door when she was approached by a familiar face. From the class introductions she learned his name was Adrien Dupain-Cheng. As usual she glared at him, waiting for an apology.

“I’m really sorry for what happened,” he started to say as he looked down “Those pastries were prepared by my parents to share to my classmates, so I panicked and acted without thinking. They took some time of their busy day to cater my request so I just prioritized salvaging what I can of their hard work”

Now Marinette felt guilty for glaring at him throughout the day. She was about to say something when he presented a box in front of her, “I know its not much but please accept it as an added apology for making you uncomfortable on your first day”

She eyed the box curiously, ‘Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie’ the box label read.

“No need to worry, these were the ones left that never left the box. My friends and I already ate the ones I dropped” he nervously chuckled trying to lighten the mood.

The young designer was awestruck, never has she seen such genuine kindness emanating from someone before. She nervously reached for the box and his hands lingered next to hers before letting go of the box, making sure that she had a tight grip on it.

Adrien smiled at her and she gave out a shy smile in return.

A car honk startled them both. Her ride just arrived so she turned to say goodbye to Adrien, “That would be my ride… Goodbye, t-thanks for the uh-this” she gestured to the box she’s holding between her hip as she opened her umbrella.

She got in the car placing the box in the seat next to her, when she saw him still standing where he was when she saw why she got out again. “I forgot something, be right back”

Adrien was about to wait the rain out before sprinting back to the patisserie when a blushing Marinette Agreste faced him again.

She held out her umbrella not looking at him directly, “Please use this, the rain will take a few more hours before it completely stops. I also want to apologize for glaring at you for basically the whole day”

He hesitated before eventually receiving the umbrella, his fingers touching hers for a split second. “Thanks Marinette, I hope we can still be friends”

She smiled.

“Yeah, I’d like that”

Next Chapter: Marinette gets picked on. Alya finally talks to her fashion icon. New friendships. New relationships.

↬ Chapter 3

↬ AO3

[rollzerox]

Okay I kind of want to see Yona and Haks reaction to Lina being pregnant, can you write an add on to that one fic about it?

Sure thing anon! Continuation from @zenoobsessed ‘s work here: https://zenoobsessed.tumblr.com/post/186142037974/can-you-write-more-of-later-jaeha-with-lina-those

“Oh and be sure to add extra protein to the princess’ diet, these will help her with the coming months… Lina’s going to protest she’ll have all kinds of cravings also don’t spice things too much she’ll get sick and her nose will be very delicate…” Valerie was discussing with one of the cooks about what to serve Lina with the new information that came along, she didn’t even notice her husband approaching when he looked at her confused.

 “What’s wrong with Lina?” Hak asked, placing a hand on his hip.

 “Is something wrong with Princess Lina?” Kija asked, alarm in his voice as he was right behind the Lightning Beast.

 Valerie blinked in surprise as she spun around to see the Thunder Beast. “Oh honey! I didn’t see you there!” she sprang over and hugged him right away.

 “Yeah, yeah, what’s wrong?” Hak grabbed her by the shoulders. “I know she was feeling sick the other day because Ura mentioned he was worried about her.”

 “Please Valerie, if you know that something is wrong…” Kija looked worried. “I mean Jae-ha should be the one getting weaker not…”

 “Calm down you two, she’s not dying or anything like that.” Valerie sighed that of course the boys panicked. “It’s quite the opposite really.” Her lips twitched into a smile.

 “Ok… What is it?” Hak asked, not getting why she was grinning so much.

 “You’re going to be a grandpa!” Valerie cheered, placing her hands on her husband’s shoulders. “Lina is pregnant!”

 “W-WHAT?!?” Kija’s face turned white and he nearly fainted. “T-t-t-the p-p-p-princess is…. Is….”

 Hak grumbled and smacked his forehead. “God dammit she’s Droopy Eyes’ daughter alright…. Getting knocked up at the same age as her mother when…” it just dawned on him what Valerie said. “… Wait… Why am I going to be a grandfather?” he was starting to shake, his eyes widened when he realized what that meant. “You don’t mean…”

 “Ura and her got together just like I always said they would!” Valerie hummed, clearly overjoyed. “We should start planning the wedding! After all Ura went and got her pregnant we need to make sure he takes responsibility right?”

 Hak blinked twice… Three times… His face turned red with rage and he growled so loud the whole castle heard it. “URA DID WHAT?!?”

 Yona blinked as she heard the Thunder Beast’s shout all the way to her study, where she was currently talking with Yoon. “Was that Hak just now?”

 “Oh geez guess they told him, poor kid is so dead…” Yoon muttered.

 “Yoon?” Yona raised her eyebrow at his muttering. “Just what did Ura-“ she was cut off by the door slamming open and the boy in question rushing to her side.

 “HIDE ME AUNTIE!” Ura cried, running over and hugging the redheaded queen. “PLEASE! Pops is going to murder me!”

 “Ura!” Lina came rushing after him, she easily caught up thanks to her dragon leg. “Wait for me!”

 “Lina he won’t kill you! It’s me who he’ll break my spine once he finds me!” Ura whimpered. “I can’t believe ma went and told him already and didn’t give me a head start to run!”

 “Ah figures Val did it, I thought that was odd for you to go and tell Lightning Beast that fast…” Yoon muttered.

 “Alright what’s going on here?” Yona sighed, trying to collect her thoughts as she pet Ura on the head. “Lina? Ura? What happened? Did you two set fire to the garden again or break something?”

 “Well….” Lina looked down at her feet as Ura slowly backed up from Yona, trying to figure out what to say.

 “Yeah I’ll just leave you guys to talk about this, excuse me…” Yoon sidestepped for the door, but Lina and Ura both gave him pitiful looks as the Ryokuryuu grabbed his hand.

 “Please Grandma Yoon don’t leave me!” Lina pleaded, her innocent eyes melting his resolve.

 Yoon sighed and shook his head, he couldn’t deny Lina since she was a child and he still couldn’t. “Did you at least tell your father already?”

 “Him and mom were the first ones we told… Then I guess ma went and told my dad…” Ura whimpered, looking like he was awaiting his death sentence.

 “Alright Yoon out with it.” Yona had her arms folded over her chest. “What’s wrong and why is Hak so upset? What did they do that has Ura shaking like a leaf?”

 “Well…. M-mom you know how I’ve been kind of sick lately?” Lina whimpered, shutting her eyes. “… I-it turns out I’m…. I’m….”

 “She’s as bad at tracking her cycle as you are Yona.” Yoon stated bluntly, figuring the queen would guess from that hint, as he often chastised Yona for that each time she got pregnant and had forgotten about her period that she hadn’t gotten it in a while until it was brought up to her.

 “My cycle…? What does that have to do with-“ Yona’s eyes went wide and she nearly fainted, it was a good thing she was already sitting as she looked at her daughter who had a pitiful look on her face and Ura was already apologizing and bowing several times. “…. Lina you’re…. You’re with child?” she gasped, clasping her hand over her mouth in shock.

 The Ryokuryuu whimpered and nodded her head, Ura grabbing her hand for support. “Yes I am… I only just found out and I’m so sorry!” she looked ready to cry as she rushed over to hug her mother, burying her head into the queen’s shoulder. “I know I was irresponsible and I understand if you’re angry with me about it, but at the same time I’m happy because maybe this means daddy will get to see my…”

 Yona sighed and pet her daughter on the head, questioning when in the world did her little girl get to be an adult? Yona swore the little red and green haired child grew up so fast, she was even taller than Yona now, taking after her father. “Lina, calm down. Please. I’m not mad.” She then turned to Ura. “And Ura, stop apologizing and bowing already, save that for your father. So you guys told Jae-ha and Valerie already?” she was trying to stay calm despite trying to process how in the world did this happen? Only just the other day Lina was obsessing over a date with Ura and now…

 Lina sobbed a bit into her mother’s shoulder, too scared to look at her. “Y-yes we did… I asked daddy to try and live to see my baby… He said I’m giving him another reason to fight to live longer.”

 Yona couldn’t help but giggle at that. “That’s your father alright, he said that when I was pregnant with your brother.” She pet her daughter’s hair some more. “… While I’d say you both are really too young to be parents already, I’d be a hypocrite if I scolded you that badly… I was your age when I found out I was carrying you, Lina.” She admitted with a smile. “Your father and I got married almost 2 weeks after I found out I was nearly 3 months pregnant because he was in that Xing prison at the time.”

 Lina blinked in surprise when she pulled back, turning to Yoon. “… Is that why you said before Grandma Yoon that…?”

 Yoon nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “Yep. It’s rather ironic you’re going to end up with a child at the same age as your mother was.”

 “And also you’re right Lina…” Yona said with a sigh, shaking her head. “… This way Jae-ha can actually meet his grandchild. I mean… We have no idea how long he has left and he’s already lasted with us this long, just being able to be there for your special moment when you become a mother.” She ran her hand through the Ryokuryuu’s hair. “I just wish you two wouldn’t have followed my example and more had followed Hak’s and got married first.”

 Ura blushed at that, looking away. “… We were waiting until I turn 16, to tell the truth Aunt Yona.” He admitted. “I… Well kind of already asked her but we hadn’t told anyone yet.”

 Lina’s cheeks heated up at that. “Yeah we were kind of keeping it a secret. Not the greatest one since Auntie Valerie called us out on it.” She sighed.

 Yona chuckled and shook her head. “Lina, your father and I hid our relationship from everyone too, mostly because your dad was worried that Hak would murder him. Which he kind of wanted to do when he found out I was pregnant…”

 “Yeah he wanted to rush back to the prison and kill Jae-ha himself.” Yoon commented.

 Yona then reached out and grabbed Ura’s hand. “I trust her in your care Ura, just know that she has a lot of uncles that will be very angry if you don’t treat her right.” She joked. “I guess Valerie and Jae-ha were right, you two did end up together. Honestly, I’m happy for you both, as long as you’re happy.” She stroked her daughter’s cheek. “Lina I’ll be here for you, we all will be. I look forward to meeting my grandchild, something I wished my parents could have seen. I love you so much, my darling daughter.”

 “…. Mommy!” Lina burst into tears, hugging Yona tightly. “I love you too!”

 That’s when the door slammed back open, Hak panting for air with a look of murderous intent as he spotted his son. “URA!!! IS IT TRUE YOU GOT THE PRINCESS PREGNANT?!?”

 “D-DAD!” Ura quickly ducked behind Yona’s chair. “Please don’t kill me!”

 “Oh crap, Thunder Beast is here. Nice knowing ya Ura.” Yoon remarked.

 “Uncle Hak please don’t hurt Ura!” Lina immediately stood up, clasping her hands together and looking at the Lightning Beast with pleading eyes full of tears. “It’s my fault too after all, I love him and I didn’t think when we… I’m so sorry to disappoint you and I didn’t mean to upset you!”

 Hak instantly deflated seeing Lina in tears, sighing as he pulled the girl into a hug. “….. Damn it all why… Didn’t I help raise you two better than this? This is all Droopy Eyes’ fault with his influence…”

 “Oh come now Hak, young love can’t be controlled nor contained.” Jae-ha chuckled as he stood in the doorway, leaning against it while using his cane for support. Once he heard that shout and Ura rushed off he figured the boy ran here and worked he his slowly, Valerie helping him on the way. “At least we’re not on the road or anything like that, so the child will grow happy, healthy and safe here.”

 “Also no making Lina sweetie a widow before she’s married, I want the fun of planning their wedding!” Valerie cheered, wrapping an arm around her brother for support.

 “Shouldn’t you be in bed, husband?” Yona narrowed her eyes at the former Green Dragon. “Last I checked you were on bedrest for the next few days after you tripped down the stairs.”

 “Oh come now my lovely, this is a time to celebrate!” Jae-ha chuckled, strolling over by his wife and snaking an arm around her as she stood, holding her close. “So when’s the wedding kids?”

 “As soon as possible.” Hak said through gritted teeth. “I’m not letting my grandchild be a bastard child.” He glared at his son who was shaking still.

 “Oh please at least give me a week to plan their wedding sweetheart!” Valerie elbowed him. “We need to pick the perfect dress, set the date, give invitations out and make it completely formal, after all we’re talking about the Princess of Kouka’s Wedding! It’ll be a national event!”

 Lina sweatdropped at that. “… Can’t we just have a private ceremony like you guys did? I mean mom was a princess too you know…”

 “But she was in hiding and not activate ruler, it’s a big difference here honey!” Valerie said, shaking her head. “She was keeping her status a secret and it was for her safety, we can’t have a scandal or rumors go around! People will think you two kids sneaked off and eloped! We’ll just say you were both an arranged marriage since you were kids, you practically were. Ura sweetie we need to go shopping!”

 “…. Is this going to be my punishment then…?” Ura whimpered.

 “Oh don’t think you’re getting off THAT easy, kid.” Hak snarled. “We’re going to have a little talk in the training yards later…”

 “Uncle Jae-ha save me please.” Ura pleaded.

 Jae-ha chuckled, petting the teen on the head. “I’ll come with to make sure you don��t get too worn out. Hak go easy on the boy, can you blame him when he had a beautiful princess pawing all over him? What would you have done if Yona dear had-“ he was cut off as Hak flicked his nose, the Thunder Beast had slowed over lately with smacking Jae-ha really hard since the man could barely stand some days due to growing weaker.

 “Nobody asked you, pervert. If you weren’t half dead, I’d break you in half for corrupting my son into being a pervert like you.” Hak growled, but sighed as he couldn’t stay mad with Lina’s sorrowful expression, he pet her on the head. “Looks like you’re off the training ground for a while kid, you’ll need to take it easy with this news.”

 Lina pouted a bit at that. “Uncle Hak I’m pregnant not broken! I can still train and use my dragon leg!”

 “Hell no, your mother tried to argue that when she was carrying you and got into all kinds of trouble.” Hak said sternly. “If it wasn’t for that dragon blood in you she could have miscarried from all the stress she was under, I’m not letting you push yourself the same way because you can be just as stubborn as she is… Sometimes worse because you also take after Droopy Eyes and get in over your head.”

 Yona giggled at that. “Don’t even try Lina, when Hak’s this determined you’re not going to budge him.”

 Lina sighed, glad that her uncle wasn’t threatening to kill Ura anymore. “… Alright…. For the baby I guess I can… Behave a bit.” She twisted her mouth, clutching at her stomach. “… Thank you, everyone… For being by my side and being the best family anyone could ask for… I love you all so much and I can’t wait for my baby to be part of it.”

 Jae-ha smiled, pulling his little girl into a hug. “That’s our line, treasure. You brought us such happiness the day you came into our lives, I can’t wait for your child to do the same for you.”

[oohfluffy]

Haven | KJI

Fluffy’s note: This was actually what I had written for a school project 2 years ago and I kept a copy of it as I thought I can use it in the future. I just changed the characters, the person’s point of view, and some of the grammar. I hope you like it! 😘💕

Group: EXO

Member: Kim Jongin

Theme: Angst | Royalty!AU

Word Count: 3,857

You just fell for the wrong prince.

As she walked on the aisle, feeling the thousands pairs of eyes following her as she take steps forward, she knew she should have been used to this already. Petals of the bloody red roses fell down on her like water, the Chapel’s bells rang throughout the whole city, and the smooth playing of the violinists and pianists with the graceful singing of the choir.

Behind the smiles of some people here inside this enormous chapel, she knew there is hatred and envy hidden within their masks. She looked back in front of her and saw the sight she has been dreaming of since she was a kid.

There he was. Waiting for her to reach him.

A hand was held out to her.

“My queen.”

She took his hand with a smile.

—

You grudgingly sat up on your bed with a frown as you hear the disturbing noises outside of your room. You looked at the window on her left where sun rays brightly shines through, birds are chirping as they fly so freely, and the heavy stomps of horses with the squeaking wheels of the carriages. Your eyes drifted to the tall antique wooden clock beside your closet.

“Oh, it’s already 9 in the morning.” You mumbled as you ran your fingers through your messy bed hair.

*knock*

*knock*

“Your highness, breakfast is already served. The King and Queen with Princess Jiyeon are waiting for yours and Prince Jungwoo's presences in the dining room.” The voice of your young servant, Mina, said on the other side of the door. You stretched up your arms freely, grunting as you felt your muscles relax.  

“Thank you, Mina. I’ll be down in a moment.” You simply replied before standing up from your bed.

You are a royalty.

The second princess of the Tempo Kingdom, a child of King Siwon and Queen Hyunji.  You are already turning 18 in 2 months, and it's supposed to be an exciting event, isn't it?

But all you feel is dread as the day gets closer.

*knock*

*knock*

“Princess, are you done?”

You hurriedly braided your hair to look neat and checked yourself out on the mirror for the last time. As you walked on the hallway with your 6-inch heels, you instantly felt uncomfortable. After looking from left to right to check if anyone's looking, you quickly bent down and reached to take your heels off when you heard a cough from behind you.

“Yes, I’m coming!” You took your heels with your right hand and stood straight again as if you're innocent in front of whoever saw you. You turned with a fake smile before instantly frowning at the sight of your younger brother's grin.

“My, my, my. Sister, taking those horrendous slippers again?” Jungwoo chuckled as he look at the pair of heels within your grasp. His sister, the prim and proper princess of the Tempo Kingdom, removing her heels in the middle of the castle's hallway. What a sight to see.

"These aren’t just slippers, Jungwoo-ah. Should I force you every day to wear these indoors?” You raised your eyebrow as you suggested. Jungwoo quickly shook his head as he waved his hands in front, disagreeing with what you just said.

“Nope. If that happens, I’d rather stay outdoors every day.”

You chuckled at the 16-year-old brother of yours.

"Tsk, tsk. His witty remarks will earn him a smack on his head someday." You whispered as Jungwoo continued walking ahead, noisily talking as he knew you'll follow after.

Before you can get to the dining hall, whispers can be heard inside. You quickened your pace in curiosity and arrived at the dining hall after your brother. The rest of your family were already half-way in eating their breakfast.

The King and Queen looked like they were having a serious conversation but when they saw you, they immediately stopped. Your elder sister, on the other hand, was grinning like she just won a huge prize.

You cautiously sat down in front of Jiyeon and noticed their unusual aura. Not wanting to assume that something happened and it’s related to you, you just started eating your breakfast.

“Ehem.” You heard your mother intentional cough. You slowly looked up and noticed that they were not eating, as if they were not present for a breakfast but for something else.

“Is there something that I need to know, Mother?” You didn't stop yourself from asking.

You glanced at your father. He shared conspicuous glances with your mother before replying to you.

"Well, you see, there are many kingdoms who helped us build our new army and the Sacred Chapel without asking for anything in return. They shared what they have, the food for our knights, the materials needed for the broken structures around our castle, the weapons that our knights need like the Arbalest, Bardiche, Caltrops, Falchion, Catapults, Mangonel—“

You kept your cool at your mom's unexpected topic. You don't feel good about this.

“Mother, will you please get to the point?”

Silence came afterwards and it was deafening to hear. You wanted an answer immediately.

But you wished your father never said anything with a straight face.

“King Junmyeon of the Oasis Kingdom asked for your hand in marriage for his son.”

Your lips parted in surprise as your eyes widened. You felt like your voice got snatched away from you. Jungwoo shifted from his seat uncomfortably, seeing your betrayed expression hurt him. While Jiyeon smiled as she leaned back on her seat.

“Wh-what did you say to him?” You managed to stutter.

“Of course they agreed. The Oasis Kingdom was the closest kingdom to us and they’ve really helped us out. They said that they’ll be having a ceremonial meeting for your wedding this Saturday, so I’ll help you prepare on that day.” Jiyeon cheerfully exclaimed as she clasped her hands together, as if she cannot see your disappointed reaction.

You cannot believe this.

How can they give out their own daughter just for their pride and feeling of being indebted?

This is just unfair.

“I have not even entered the legal age of marrying someone. Do you have any conscience, Your highnesses?” You said, making sure you've emphasized the last words. Your eyes glared at your parents, who looked at you in surprise. King Siwon hit the table with his fist, making your glare falter.

“You have no right to talk like that to your parents! Did you learn right manners, young lady?!”

“You’re always like this, Father. You always see what I do that doesn’t go well in your favor, but never see what I achieve that costs more than gold.” You gritted your teeth, eyes never leaving your father's as you spat out every word.

You stood up from your seat, forgetting formal dining etiquette for the first time, and walked out of the hall. You had expected this from the beginning, when you learned about how most of the higher kingdoms merge with another. They arrange marriages for a royalty, whether he or she likes it or not. In this generation, it is normal for royalties to be married off for reward, more advantages for a kingdom or for debt.

“This is not how I wanted to be married.” You mumbled, lips slightly trembling as you kept your tears from falling.

—

You flinched at the tight hold that one of your hair stylists has on your hair. The rushed but perfect make up that was made by Jiyeon, the itchy dress that your mother made you wear and the torturous heels forced on your feet, made her feel like you're getting married on this very day.

“You look very stunning, sister.”

You glanced at your brother on the mirror and saw him lying on your bed, looking back at you.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing at this moment as well?”

"Nah. I’m not the one who’s getting married." He teased with a grin, but immediately regretted it. Your head fell down at the word.

You are going to be married.

Maybe in 2 months? Next month or worse, even next week.  

“I apologize for that—“

"No, no. It’s alright, Jungwoo-ah. I understand what you meant. It would be great if the guy I’ll be marrying is better than my own father.” You shook your head as you looked down on your clasped clothed hands.

You walked towards the door that leads to the Kingdom’s garden with your brother beside you. You suddenly felt nervous right at the last step to the door. Jungwoo looked back at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Having cold feet?”

You bit your lip in perturbation while nodding like a kid. Jungwoo sighed.

“Fine. I’ll tell them that you went to the privy. Just be back after 30 minutes, okay? Don’t go outside the boundaries.”

Your eyes lit up as you whispered, "Thank you, Jungwoo-ah!”

In the end, you just ended up in the chapel.

It’s just a few blocks away from the castle, so you often go here especially when you feel depressed or sad.

This has become your safe haven.

You sat on the first row of the wooden chairs and sighed.

“Thank goodness the guards aren’t on patrol this time.” You mumbled as you closed your eyes, calming your hammering heart on your chest.

“Yes, indeed. That would be disturbing.”

"Uhuh." You nodded in agreement with the statement said by someone.

You thought that it is truly refreshing when you spend time here alone-

“Wait. If I’m alone, then who—” You quickly opened your eyes, now alert and tensed. “Who are you? Show yourself!” You looked around frantically.

You knew that it would be a disaster if someone saw you here instead of being at the garden at this moment. You're certain that they’ll immediately report it to the King and Queen.

“Down here.”

You looked down and saw a man with a raven hair lying down on the bench behind yours. One of his muscular arms was under his head, while the other laid on his forehead. He looked pretty much like a model.

He's dashing, you thought. You shook your head and glared at the man.

“What are you doing here? Who are you?" You bravely asked the handsome man, eyes observing his attire. "I assume that you are not one of the knights of this Kingdom neither a part of this Kingdom, considered that you don’t wear a knight’s uniform and your behavior in this chapel.”

You were slowly squinting your suspicious eyes towards his amused ones. He sat up as a grin plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry, Lady?” He slightly bowed his head in respect, making you huff as he finally remembered to be courteous.

“I’m Choi (y/n), second princess of Tempo Kingdom. I’m sure you’ve heard of my name?”

His eyes slightly widened in realization before turning into crescents as he smiled. "Ah, so it’s you.”

You almost cooed at his cuteness when you caught on what he just said.

“What—“ Your mouth formed an 'O' as you concluded something. “A-Are you the son of King Junmyeon?”

He smirked, arms comfortably draped on the wooden seat. "Well, yes I am.”

"No, you’re not.” Your eyebrows knitted accusingly, shaking your head as he laughed at your reaction. "You're lying." You denied, standing up from your seat and walking towards the aisle to get away from this man.

He looked at you, following your every move. His eyes were like drowning you in his deep honey brown orbs. His lips curled up into a smirk, like he thought of an evil plan.

“You can’t escape from me, Princess (y/n). You’re going to be tied to me for eternity, love.”

You turned away from him and ran back to the castle. You were getting out of breath.

You need to tell your parents that you can’t marry that prince!

You opened the door towards the garden in rush and walked quickly to the gazebo, where you can see your parents, your siblings, the King and Queen of the Oasis Kingdom and another man with a familiar raven hair.

"Dear! What took you so long?” Your mother was frowning, you know she's not happy with your tardiness. Before she can even scold you, King Junmyeon butted in with a smile.

“It’s okay, Hyunji-ah. Princess (y/n), meet my eldest son, Jongdae.” King Junmyeon said as he gestured at the man beside him. The man named Jongdae automatically stood up and walked towards you. You finally saw his face.

You thought he was the one in the chapel earlier, but they just resemble each other a little.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess (y/n).”

Jongdae kneeled as he smoothly grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it. You can feel heat forming on your cheeks as his lips met your skin.

“Pleasure’s mine, Prince Jongdae.” You nodded, before hesitantly taking your hand back from his grasp. After slightly bowing in respect, you immediately sat down without stumbling your way on the chair beside your brother. He silently snickered at you. You stomped on his feet quietly as he bit his lip refraining the cry wanting to come out of his mouth. You're currently thinking of how to tell your disagreement to this marriage to both your family and the Kims' when your father spoke.  

“Now that you’ve met each other. Let’s begin planning for your wedding.” As your father clapped his hand once, three female servants appeared with different papers and magazines in hand. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Prince Jongdae is my fiancé?” You asked, making them look back at you.

You suddenly felt so embarrassed right now that you want to dig a hole and bury yourself alive.

You looked down in shame before opening your mouth to apologize-

“Yes, Princess (y/n). He is.” A deep voice that you immediately recognized said.

You looked up at the man who just came and gritted your teeth.

He fooled you.

"Jongin! Where’d you gone off to? Did you get lost? What did you do?” The Queen of Oasis Kingdom worriedly asked her child, patting the empty seat beside her, which is unfortunately in front of yours.

"Aww. Is this your youngest son, Jooyoung-ah? He grew up as a fine young man.” Your mother sweetly smiled as she commented. You almost rolled your eyes.

“I apologize for the tardiness of my son.” King Junmyeon nodded at your parents while urging his late son to move faster.

“No, it’s fine. We’re just about to start anyway. Prince Jongin, please have a seat.” Your father shook his head with a chuckle.

The prince was obedient and quickly slipped on the seat reserved for him, not before looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Starting from that day, you got to know more about your fiancé…. and his brother.

—

"HEY! That’s my cupcake!”

"Hmm. It doesn’t have your name on it, so I can take it.”

You wanted to pull your hair in frustration as this certain prince took away your newly baked cupcakes.

“I made that one! Why should you be here anyway?!” You glared at him, crossing your arms as you watched Jongin slowly takes your cupcake in his mouth.

"That fact just made this lil’ cupcake more delicious, princess." He winked, making you roll your eyes. "My brother can’t just go alone by himself, so he asked me if I could come with him every time he visits here.”

"Huh, impossible.”

Prince Jongdae and Prince Jongin have been visiting the kingdom twice or thrice week, and you sincerely appreciate your fiancé's efforts in getting to know you.

But what bothers you is the third wheel.

Jongin always pops out of nowhere and ruins the mood between you and his brother. He’s like a bubblegum that you can’t take off of you. You know that he’s a good guy, but the thing is, he is so annoying. You thought, how can Jongdae even last a day with his younger brother?

“Here.” You snapped out of your thoughts when a box with an elegant design was placed in front of you. You looked up and saw Jongin munching the rest of your cupcake with a smile.

“What’s in this suspicious box?” You raised an eyebrow as you refrained the tugging of a smile on your lips. Jongin shrugged, looking away.

“I made it. Take it as my apology.”

“For what? For being annoying? For being here? Or for being a hindrance between me and your brother?" You insensitively said, not realizing sooner that you might hurt his feelings. "You’ve finally realized, huh?" You scoffed jokingly, but all the playfulness disappeared in your eyes when you saw his expression.

Why did you not process what you will say first?!

The prince's eyes were casted down on his feet. Even with the soft and messy hair that almost covered his face, anyone can tell that he was wounded by your words. You quickly put down the box and strode towards him with an apologetic face. But before you can even reach him, he walked away fast, as if you closing your distance hurt him more.

“Sorry for being a hindrance.”

For the first time, you felt like you've been stabbed in the heart by someone who you don’t like.

At least that’s what you thought.

You cannot do anything but watch as Jongin's figure disappeared behind the door. You guiltily sat back down, eyes drifting towards the box he gave you. You noticed a small pink paper peeking out from it, piquing your interest. You carefully opened the box and was surprised with the quality of the cake.

It was simply beautiful.

Anyone won’t even think they can eat such cake without feeling guilty.

You took the pink note and read it, not expecting how the beautifully written words will affect you.

“ There are no words that can explain

All excuses will be just in vain

Denying would not do me any good

This heart cannot hide from the truth

These overflowing feelings could not be stopped

No matter how much I want to

I still cannot have you

My princess

My haven

Just please know that I love you “

—

"Geez. You’ve been walking in front of me for a hundred of times, (y/n) noona! Will you just settle down?”

"Gosh. I don’t know what to do, Jungwoo. It’s been 2 weeks since he stopped coming with Jongdae. Was he that hurt by what I said? Should I visit them back?” You scratched the back of your head as you paced back and forth in your brother's room. Well, he is the only one you could talk to as your elder sister does not like entertaining your blabbering very much.

After the day of their last encounter, Jongin did not come back with his brother again. You thought it was better, but then after a week of not seeing him, you felt this little hole in your chest that just kept on opening up as days pass by.

“Why does it matter to you that he stopped coming anyway? He should’ve realized his mistake too. But it’s true that you’ve said too much, sister. Plus, a woman shouldn’t be the one who visits a man. Well, it would make sense if it’s for Prince Jongdae." Jungwoo nodded as he slowly looked at your frustrated form. "Just to remind you, Prince Jongin is not your fiancé, Prince Jongdae is.”

Your feet halted at his words, stopping in front of him on the bed. You looked back at his serious face, feeling your throat closing up.

“You’ve fallen for the wrong prince, (y/n).”

And your world stopped.

"N-No. You’ve got to be kidding me, brother.” You tried chuckling it off, but it came out as a whimper instead. You shook your head as you sat next to your brother.

No. No. That's not true.

“You’ve been bothering me because of Prince Jongin all the time. I’ve never even once heard a story about you and Prince Jongdae. When you tell me how your day went with your fiancé, you just complain about how Prince Jongin ruined your moment, how he acts like he’s a kid or how he eats what you bake. Add the fact that he confessed to you through a lovely poem.”

When a minute has passed and you still did not make any move nor a sound, Jungwoo sighed before kneeling down in front of you. He gently cupped your face, like how you do it to him when he sulks back then. Tears started to fill in your eyes.

“Noona, can’t you see? What you always think is all about Prince Jongin. You got to know Prince Jongdae, but you want to know Prince Jongin more. I can see that. I can always see through you, sister.”

“This can’t be happening." You mumbled, voice croaking at the end as you shook your head.

What’s done is already done, (y/n).

You’ve fallen and there’s no way out.

You force your way out or keep standing on your place.

Whatever you choose, you’ll end up getting hurt.

But if you don’t follow what your heart wants, it’ll hurt the most and you’ll forever live with regrets.

“Thank you, brother. I’ve decided what I need to do.”

—

"Alright! Is everything settled?”

“All the guests present?”

“The choir, pianists and violinists ready?”

“Roses? Check.”

“The groom?”

The bride’s ears perked up at the word. Jiyeon noticed this and nudged her sister at the arm playfully.

“Excited to see your groom?” She teased you, slightly patting your back. You smiled.

“Yes. This is what I’ve been waiting for, unnie.”

The wooden doors opened too slow for your liking that you nearly frowned in annoyance.

You want to see him already.

As you walked on the aisle, feeling the thousands pairs of eyes following you as you take steps forward, you knew you should have been used to this already. Petals of the bloody red roses fell down on you like water, the Chapel’s bells rang throughout the whole city, and the smooth playing of the violinists and pianists with the graceful singing of the choir.

Behind the smiles of some people here inside this enormous chapel, you knew there is hatred and envy hidden within their masks. You looked back in front of you and saw the sight you have been dreaming of since you were a kid.

There he was. Waiting for you to reach him.

A hand was held out to you.

“My queen.” He greeted with a grin as you took his hand with a smile.

Before you can step towards the altar, you looked back and your eyes fell on him again. He was staring back at you with a smile that was supposed to make your heart swell in happiness, not in pain and sadness.

There he was, waiting for you to reach your groom.

There was Jongin, waiting for you to reach the one that was truly destined to be with you eternally.

"My king…"

My haven.

My love.

—

[saintanism-archive]

daaaamn aj, back at it again with the long as fuc headcanons !! anyway hi everyone it’s me this is saint he’s a pretentious fuck & my ( really long, sorry, feel free 2 skip them, there’s a tl;dr summary in my bulletpoints so u can just scroll past it ) headcanons and intro stuff is under the cut !

first headcanon. while most houghton parents are doctors, lawyers, and business executives, saint’s always been something of a horse of a different color. his family certainly isn’t unwealthy—he does, after all, live in one of those multi-million-dollar brownstones in beacon hill auctioned by freaking sotheby’s—but they’re certainly neo riche, which can be sort of hit or miss, depending on who you’re asking. saint is not unlike his parents in that they surround themselves with a kind of off-kilter opulence ( sure, that kind of cash value would have bought them a newly constructed sleek mansion in the suburbs, but why go for something new and modern when you could live in a brownstone with over three hundred years of history that, supposedly, one of the founding fathers lived in? besides, you just can’t beat that location—never mind that the brownstone’s been totally gutted and replaced with sleek, modern interior anyway, and definitely not anything that ben franklin or whoever would have touched ) while pretending to eschew materialism and vanity. why else would they live in boston instead of new york or la, right? anyway. saint is the only son of the one and only cordelia st. mercy ( pronounced, unlike saint’s name, the french way—san merci, which sounds hilariously close to ‘sans merci,’ meaning ‘without mercy,’ a joke that is not lost on saint ), a renowned fashion photographer and portrait artist ( think in the vein of annie liebovitz  and arthur elgort ) with a marked celebrity and high art clientele, and also the one and only son of the less elegantly named garrett wallace ( a pen name; his real name is garrett wallerstedt, but his editor and agent agreed that last names that are difficult to pronounce are harder to sell ), whose grisly but artful novels earned him a national book award in 1997, a film deal in 2001 ( the film was a critical and box office success but, in garrett’s opinion, too reductive of his book; ‘pure snuff’ ), and a professorship in the creative writing program at MIT. yes, that MIT, which yes, does have a creative writing program, and yes, it’s a very good one. SO—that’s the pedigree saint mercy-wallace was born into, and it probably explains a whole lot about him. his parents are not and were never married, so he can’t quite say he’s a child of divorce. instead, he spends the school year with his father while his mother travels all over the world, doing her work, though she comes home for holidays and saint’s birthday, and the summers he spends with his mother, dipping his feet into the world of the new york art scene. it was an unusual arrangement, but not a bad one; it was a long time before saint even understood that his family situation was out of the ordinary, but, like, at least he knew both his parents loved him or whatever. they are both pretty emotionally distant and prone to getting caught up in their own work—his father is always focused on teaching or poring over his latest book or invited to give a talk somewhere, for example—but it’s not a bad situation. they’re just more like friends than parents. as a result, saint grew up with a lot of freedom ( more than most of his houghton peers, whose helicopter parents put the weight of the world on their shoulders ) and little discipline, often left to his own devices and trusted with the ability to take care of himself.

second headcanon: ah, yes. the houghton food chain. it’s easy to say saint sits at the dead bottom. like, he’s not even the bugs that get eaten by the birds or whatever. he’s the plant that gets eaten by the bugs. or the soil nutrients that get consumed by the plants—something like that. but the easy answer isn’t necessarily the correct one, and you see, once upon a time, saint sat somewhere near the top. he was never number one, of course, but he was up there, in that little crew of self-proclaimed high school princes and princesses ( quite literally, what with calling themselves windsors and all ). and he fit quite well, all things considered. what, with his pseudo-celebrity family background and his instagram roll full of selfies with models and musicians and actors and that specifically youthful brand of devil-may-care attitude that bordered at times on cruelty—he was a perfect fit for the windsors, his five-story, oft-empty brownstone the perfect venue for their parties and his unconscious need to belong to some kind of family the perfect host for going along with anything that dante and his ilk said. that’s not to make it sound like he was manipulated into it or anything of the sort—he wasn’t. he and dante were good friends—they were all good friends—and like anyone would, saint relished in the perks that came with sitting at the king’s left hand instead of dancing for his entertainment. he was ( and still is ) always the kind of person who gave off an air of not really caring about anything at all, but that’s especially easy when you want for nothing. his life was impossibly easy. too easy, perhaps—exactly what went down that infamous day when saint fell from his high school pedestal remains a mystery. all anyone really knows is this: it was your typical rager at chateau mercy-wallace. the party was going as saint’s parties typically did, so, pretty well, until saint cut the music and ( red-rimmed and wild-eyed, or stinking of about a hundred cigarettes, or with a bloody nose from too many lines of coke, depending on who’s telling the story—it’s morphed a bit over time ) threw everyone out of his house with no explanation. just a party’s over, fuckwads, get outta my house, and some monologue about the bullshit superficiality of high school, of all of them, about how they were all talking in circles and repeating the same lines over and over, but not even their own lines, lines they’d inherited from generations and generations past. it’s equally up for debate whether saint left the windsors or was kicked out, but there’s something of a general consensus that it was in the muddy lines of both. that went down somewhere towards the middle of the end of his junior year. since then? total social pariah. he left behind the lacrosse and soccer teams, opting instead for chain-smoking under the bleachers and cutting class. he’s a mystery, that saint mercy-wallace.

third headcanon: they were friends until they weren’t. they met in middle school and hit it off pretty easily, these two sons of daedalus who feared not the dangers of flying too close to the sun. they were handsome and charming and confident and gifted and the world opened for them—it made it easy to get along. eleven-year-olds didn’t need much by way of substance to start friendships. if you were to ask saint, looking back on it, after that they remained friends out of habit—because they were in the same place at the same time, because they had similar privilege, because they both felt they could do anything and get away with it, because they had similar luxurious sensibilities. it was ( if you ask saint ) what really bonded all of the windsors together more than any other kind of commonality. but, you know. when you wake up—as saint describes it, a waking up—and you look around and you see all this shit you’ve been brainwashed into thinking matters about anything, and you call out the only flimsy common ground you’ve got. well. you’re not going to be friends anymore, are you? after that, saint didn’t harbor any particular resentment towards dante, but he made no attempts to be friendly, often making snide remarks about the absurdity that was the whole premise of the “windsors” and how maybe they all needed to get outside and look at something other than their phones once in a while. he was still fairly shocked and upset by his death—nobody wants anyone to die, old friend slash new enemy or otherwise—but not enough to make a big thing out of it. saint’s had a pretty hard time feeling much of anything these days.

OK THE TL;DR VERSION:

son of a big hotshot fashion/art/celeb photographer ( cordelia aka cordy st. mercy ) and an acclaimed writer, essayist, novelist, thinker, etc ( garrett wallace, who teaches creative writing at MIT )

lives in a big ol brownstone in boston proper, often left to his own devices

his parents are not married to each other so he usually spends the school year w dad and the summer w mom - pls advise if u want some kind of step sibling or “our parents are dating this is terrible!” connection

used to be a windsor ! he was once (in)famously a member of the elite Inner Circle(TM) until he even more infamously had a giant burnout , threw everyone out of his house during a Classic Saint Rager ( he used to be known for throwing parties ), stopped hanging out w the windsors and has been kinda.....weird ever since

i mean don’t get me wrong he was always a pretentious fuck but he used to be better at keeping it inside and like having fun and talking about silly things now he hates talking about basic high school bullshit

his instagram is full of selfies w models and artists and musicians and actors and he only listens to bands you’ve probably never heard of who are “on the up and up”

and also house music and gregorian chants and weird af shit he’s into, like, industrial noise. anyway..........

prides himself on being very fashion forward and forward thinking in general

BIG MESS

literally never says things that aren’t . ridiculous

examples:

“can’t today my existential dread is acting up”

“i only eat squid ink pasta it’s the most melancholy of pasta”

“i can barely navigate the hellish vortex between breakfast and dinner, let alone the labyrinth of the soccer field” ( said when he quit the soccer & lacrosse teams, which he used to play )

does not give a single fuck about anything ever

chainsmokes like u wouldn’t believe catch him on the bleachers during football practice wearing all black and smoking three cigarettes at once it’s disgusting ( lowkey he thinks it looks cool lol what a loser )

reads pretentious af shit like jd salinger and allen ginsburg and the other beats and thinks he’s so edgy. kill him

skips class.....all the time . . . . but has really good grades ? wild

hates everyone and everything that isn’t Elegant

acts like he’s so above all this high school hierarchy nonsense & too cool for it & blah blah but uh

he’s probably just depressed

maybe still gets invited to parties if people forget for a second that he’s a giant fucking weirdo now? but maybe not

i would Love a ferris bueller to his cameron frye but we’ll see

anyway he’s super hard to plot with but you should plot with me anyway

this has been an intro by aj thanks for coming to my ted talk

[velvet-roads]

Like A Virgin: Chapter 18

Chapter 1: Chapter 2: Chapter 3: Chapter 4: Chapter 5: Chapter 6: Chapter 7: Chapter 8: Chapter 9: Chapter 10: Chapter 11: Chapter 12: Chapter 13: Chapter 14:  Chapter 15: Chapter 16: Chapter 17:

Word Count: 1975

Outfit:

Music: Spoonman by Soundgarden and Mad Love by The Pretty Reckless

Warnings: None

         Lucky for you, Sam had got grocery shopping. So it was burgers for you and the boys. You had actually gotten really good at cooking burgers because that is what Dean always wanted.

         “Any requests for what kind of burger you want?” You asked Sam and Dean as you leaned on the counter. Dean didn't even hesitate.

         “Surprise me, sweetheart.” He said leaning over the table and narrowing his eyes in mock challenge.

          “Challenge accepted!” You said pointing the spatula at him and giggling. You rummaged through the fridge and began pulling out what you could find. You were feeling inspired and slightly under pressure with Crowley there in the kitchen to witness your cooking skills. You decided on taco inspired burgers with guacamole spread instead of mayo. Moving about the kitchen you felt your self relax a bit more.

          “Did you happen to mention to mommy dearest about you two?” Sam said taking a sip of his beer and gesturing to you and the demon.

          “No, and I would appreciate your muzzle staying shut moose.” Crowley said with irritation, taking a sip of his whiskey.

         “Oh come on Crowley, you aren’t actually afraid of your mom are you?” Dean said laughing. They all knew that Rowena was a pain in the ass, not to mention a dangerous pain in the ass but Crowley was not afraid of her.

         “Don’t be daft. It is just annoying enough having to work with you two, but now I have to work with her.” He said rolling his eyes. Truth was he didn’t hate working with Sam and Dean, the banter was too much fun.

        “Are you ok with things staying under wraps Y/Nickname?” Sam said smirking at you over his shoulder.

         “Yeah don’t you want to shout from the roof tops, or whatever you would do in one of those novels of yours.” Dean said with a chuckle. Here is the back lash that you had been waiting for. Sam and Dean knew that telling you to not be with Crowley was just going to piss you off. Their alternative, teasing you about it every chance they got.

          “Well yeah, if I was a Disney princess and I had animals dress me in the morning, smart ass.” You said throwing a piece of cheese at him. “Right now it is best for us to not complicate things with Rowena on the case.” You were a girl and you would love nothing more than to be all lovey with Crowley. Getting to irritate the boys with it was a bonus.

          “Fair enough.” Sam said with a chuckle. After a few more minutes and some jokes, the burgers were done. You and the boys decided that it would be a really good idea to eat in the library where you could keep an eye on Rowena. She hadn’t made hardly any progress in the time that you had left her in the library. Nor did she even notice that you had come in until she smelled food.

         “You think I could get a wee bit of supper? Even a slave has to eat.” She batted her lashes again. She love to play the manipulation card. “My Fergus knows what I like.” Her lips curved into a slight smile. Anyone who didn't know their history would have seen as affection but you could see that she loathed him.

         “Y/N, go with him so he doesn’t burn the kitchen down.” Sam didn’t know that Crowley was an amazing cook, but you appreciated the alone time he was discreetly handing you.

         “Come on Crowley.....” You rolled your eyes acting as if you were irritated that you have to spend time with him. For a second there the boys and Crowley actually bought it. If the hunter’s life doesn’t kill you, maybe acting could be your calling.

          As you got out of the library and out of ear shot, Crowley grabbed you from behind and wrapped you up in his arms. He growled as he sniffed your hair. You really were beginning to find his possessiveness sexy beyond all reason.

         “I am sorry for that insufferable woman, love.” He said into your hair. You chuckled because the reality was that Rowena was bothering Crowley much more than she was bothering you.

         “Don’t worry about it. I am not worried or bother by her for the most part.” You said matter of factly. The reality was that apart from her pissing you off a little you weren’t that concerned about her. Of course if she knew you were seeing her son things could be different. Putting his hand on your lower back he ushered you into the kitchen.

         “Alright, master chef, what is it she wants to eat?” You asked looking in the fridge. Crowley came up behind you and grabbed you again. This time was a lot less loving and a lot more sexual. As he grabbed you, he bent you over just slightly so you could feel him and his sexual frustration against your back side.

          “Majesty, highness, and now master? My dear, words like that are going to get you into trouble.” He whispered in your ear. If the two of you would have been completely alone in the bunker you probably would have had your way with him on the table. He was going to be your undoing for sure. You elbowed him in the ribs as you took a deep breath trying to regain a less foggy mental state.

          “Come on, what does she want to eat?” You said standing in front of the open fridge door. He peered over your shoulder to see what was in the fridge. You grabbed some of the left over taco stuff from the burgers and a couple of bell peppers that Sam had bought for his salads. Crowley watched with curiosity as you got to work on dinner for his mother.

        “Most warden’s would just do bread and water.” He said sarcastically. You chuckled as you prepared the food.

          “Look, I know we all have a right to hate her, you more than anyone, but she is your mother. She is helping us and for that I will show her gratitude.” You began stuffing the peppers and placing them on a tray. It may not be something she was used to eating or something that she even like but you were trying. You had you back turned to Crowley but what you didn’t see is he was looking at you in admiration and wonderment. After putting the food in the oven to cook you turned back around to see him staring at you with the same expression still on his face.

          “What?” You asked shrugging your shoulders innocently. You really didn’t know what you did to earn the look he was giving you.

          “I am just in awe, love.” You looked at him expectantly. He saw the look on your face and took your silence as his cue to continue. “How can you go from bloodying up your brothers, who love you and then serving my mother dinner who is an awful woman.” You laughed at his questioning face. It really was simple to you.

         “I see your confusion. Sam and Dean locked me in a car and almost got me killed because they were too prideful to trust me and it almost got you killed. Your mom has only said few harsh words to me. I love and trust Sam and Dean that is why my actions were so different. I don’t like or trust your mother but I have no reason to act harshly yet.” You turned back to the oven and checked the peppers. Crowley was still staring at you with his mouth open slightly.

          “It is amazing to me that the boys managed to get a diplomat like yourself.” He said shaking his head. You laughed at him calling you a diplomat.

         “It’s not diplomacy, it’s just being fair.” You said shrugging your shoulders as you pulled Rowena’s dinner out of the oven. Crowley handed you a plate from the cabinet.

         “Y/N, what exactly are you feeding her?” He asked with curiosity, leaning down to smell what you had created. You smiled at his nod of approval at your food.

          “Taco stuffed peppers.” You said turning around to leave the kitchen and head back to the library. Playfully, Crowley smacked your butt as you walked past him. You couldn’t stifle the laugh that emitted from your lips. The sound carried out into the hall. Sam and Dean lifted their heads at your voice, smiling at the sound. They didn’t understand why Crowley made you happy, they were concerned, but they weren't going to question it too much. They just needed to keep an eye on you, but the bottom line was they were glad you were happy.

        Rowena noticed the sound of your laughter as well. Her expression was curious and she was already starting to scheme.

        Crowley entered the library before you, making it look as though you were the butler carrying the food. The whole thing was for show and it actually was entertaining for you to pretend that you didn't like him at this point. You dropped the plate in front of Rowena. The boys looked at you a little surprised that you had made her a real meal. Rowena looked at the food with slight distain.

          “Fergus, what on earth is this?” She asked poking at the pepper with her fork. The boys rolled their eyes at her.

         “Mother this is not the Ritz Carlton, be thankful you are being fed at all.” Crowley said exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Rowena reluctantly took a bite. The surprise on her face was enough thanks for you.

        “Well, it’s not the worst thing that I have ever eaten, but it is at least edible.” She said taking another bite.

          “You’re welcome.” You said flatly as you walked over to the whiskey and topped of your glass. She looked over at you surprised that you had cooked for her.

          “Boys, your maid is quite the little homemaker.” She took another bite, a little too satisfied with her underhanded remark. You just rolled your eyes and took another drink. Crowley gave you a look that said “I’m sorry.” She really didn’t bother you. You had thick skin.

          As Rowena ate she would ramble about some of the random spells that she had been able to make out. So far there was nothing of significance. It was close to 2 AM when you all decided to turn in. Not trusting Rowena, the boys locked her up in the dungeon with a cot. She was less than thrilled but Crowley seemed tickled by the idea. You and the boys headed to your rooms.

          Opening your door you laughed at the extra large bed that was now part of your room. You walked to your closet and grabbed a pair of plaid shorts and a black tee shirt to sleep in. The shower you decided to take made you relax enough that you started to fall asleep standing. Finally pulling yourself out of the hot water, you headed back to your room.

          When you opened your door again, you were greeted by a scruffy bearded, sexy man laying on your bed. Being with him felt like home. You couldn’t have picked a worst person to fall for, but you had fallen none the less. Crawling in bed, you laid your head on his chest and he wrapped you in his arms.

         “I am not fond of you pretending you don’t like me.” He said kissing the top of your head. You let out a breathy chuckle as your eyes grew heavy. You were fading fast.

       “You can’t always get what you want.” You mumbled snuggling closer, enjoying his heat. He growled at you and then the room went quiet as you fell into a warm peaceful slumber.

@gettinjoyful @li-ssu @earinafae

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

Skin Contact (1/2)

Note: What happens when I talk to my dad about kangaroo care and SIDS tragedies? I get inspired to write Killian with babies. I know that there is a huge queue going, but when the muse hits you, the muse hits you. This might be the shortest thing I have written in awhile but I cannot imagine it any other way. So here’s some shirtless!Killian with newborn!Harrison and some Henry too. Because everyone needs some Captain Cobra. As always, thank you @welllpthisishappening for reading my walls of text and screeching at me. Summary: Killian and Henry have a meaningful conversation while cuddling the newest member of the Swan-Jones family. (The second part featuring Emma can be found here: [LINK]) Rating: T Word Count: 2,500+

Killian Jones had a son.

He had been a father for four days now, but the fact still stunned him even while he held his newborn child. The boy was quite large, already weighing nearly a stone, but he felt quite small and vulnerable against his chest; a tiny little bird without feathers. An intense hum of fear and anxiousness sang in Killian’s blood, afraid that if he squeezed too hard then he would break the beautiful boy in his arms. His son was fragile, more than most babes, and had already suffered an injury coming into this world.

“You were born into this world already struggling,” he murmured aloud, running a finger down the side of the boy’s cheek. The boy wrinkled his entire face in response. “I’m sorry for that, little one. I would never have wished it upon anyone.”

The babe merely whimpered in reply, nosing his face closer to his father’s chest in search for warmth. Killian adjusted his grip, careful not to move the boy’s left arm in fear of disturbing the boy’s broken clavicle.

The doctor had assured them it wasn’t uncommon for large babies to break their collarbone during birth and that it would heal in a few weeks, but this did little to soothe him. Killian could not help but feel resentful that there wasn’t much modern medicine could do to help his baby boy. According to the doctor, there was no cast or salve that they could use to heal this type of injury for an infant and the only thing they could do was pin the affected arm’s sleeve to his body in order to immobilize it. He had nearly begged Regina to heal him and relieve his son of his pain but she had refused, citing that his body was too weak to handle such magic.

“I wish I could do more for you,” he whispered as he bent to kiss his son’s hairline. “All I can tell you is that the pain will pass. I promise that. It will all pass and I will do everything and anything to make sure of that.”

The little boy whimpered again, this time louder and sounding more distressed. Not wanting for his son to break into yet another crying fit, Killian rocked him gently as he could without jostling his arm in hopes of mollifying him. He hummed a melody under his breath, a soft one that he once knew the words to but had long since forgotten.

There was a loud creak behind him as someone settled in the doorway. Killian didn’t bother to turn around. There were only two other people in the house with him and after the last few nights they’ve had, he hoped either would just turn around and go back to sleep.

“Hook? Is everything okay? I heard little Han crying and it just stopped…” Henry’s tired voice called.

“Harrison’s fine, Henry, just a little cranky. He’s calming down a bit. Go back to sleep, lad,” Killian replied as quietly as he could, hoping against hope that the break in melody wouldn’t disturb the baby further.

“I can’t,” Henry said after a moment. “I psyched myself out. He stopped crying and for a moment I thought it was SIDS.”

The floorboards protested as Henry inched forward into the room.

“Not SIDS,” Killian confirmed, giving his son another kiss on the head. The thought of SIDS alone terrified him. “Just getting some love. I’m pretty sure he just wanted to be held. Between all of us, I think he’s only laid on his own for two hours in the past four days.”

“Four days old and already spoiled,” Henry commented with some humor as he reached Killian’s side.

Though it was dark in the room, Henry was now close enough that Killian could see some of the details in his face. Henry wasn’t looking at him, but at the slightly whimpering infant - his brother. Killian swallowed hard for a moment as he realized that his son had an older brother; his own Liam.

Henry’s gaze flickered up from his brother and landed on Killian’s bare chest, as if realizing for the first time that his stepfather was only half dressed. Killian watched as Henry’s eyes took in the various tattoos and scars that littered his skin. He frowned.

“I didn’t realize you were so tatted,” Henry remarked for a moment.

If Killian hadn’t been holding his four-day old son, he probably would have shrugged, but he was so terrified of hurting Harrison any more than he already was that he just stood stiffly.

“I wasn’t necessarily hiding them from you or anyone particularly. I just don’t make a habit being so unclothed in public,” he replied in neutral tone.

“Ah okay.” Henry shifted awkwardly for a moment. “Any reason why you are now?”

“Aside from being in my own home?” Killian clarified with faint amusement. “Skin contact is good for babies. Every study I’ve come across this recommended that newborns have as much skin contact as possible. It helps them sleep…reduces stress…helps form bonds between parent and child. They say that they can form preferences from hearing voices while in the womb, but I don’t quite believe them on that. This…this…”

Killian had always been good with words, but they seemed to be failing him at the moment. For some reason, he couldn’t get out that he wanted to bond with his son; he wanted his son to love him as much as Killian already loved him.

Henry’s eyes softened and he swallowed visibly in the darkness.

“I don’t think I ever had that…” he said quietly. “I don’t think either of my moms ever thought to do that for me…Neal didn’t even know so…yeah…that’s nice Harrison has that…”

If Killian wasn’t holding his son, he would have hugged Henry for the somewhat broken expression on his face. He had no doubt in his mind that Henry was correct in his assumptions about Emma and Regina.

“If it makes you feel better, neither your mother or myself had that either. We didn’t have the luxury. You can’t blame Emma for that though. She did the best she could in an impossible situation so you could be happy,” he replied gently, feeling the need to defend his wife.

“No. I get that,” Henry said after a pause. “I’m not angry. I’m just…”

“You wish that someone did.” Killian gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re allowed to feel that way. You’re allowed to feel however you want. Just don’t let it eat you because you’ve very much loved.”

“I know, I know, I know. I have Regina, I have Emma, my grandparents, baby Neal”-“And me,” Killian interrupted gently.

“Yeah?” Henry looked somewhat stunned.

“Yeah. You always did. I’m not your father, I’m not Bae, and I don’t want to erase him from his place, but you’ve always been…Henry, to me, you’re just as much my son as Harrison is.”

Killian and Henry regarded each other quietly for a moment. The only sound in the room was Harrison’s quiet little noises as he squirmed a bit in his father’s arms.

“Can I tell you something that I haven’t told anyone?” Henry’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Go ahead, lad.”

“I don’t really remember him. Neal. Like I remember what we did together, kinda, but I don’t remember his face or his voice or what his laugh sounded like. I remember Robin better than him.”

“I’m sorry,” Killian replied because he didn’t know what else to say. All he felt was a deep sadness for the boy who never really knew his father; a father that had actually wanted to know him, which was more than Killian could say for his own.

“It’s okay. I’ve learned to deal. And you’re right, I have you. And so does little Han Solo here.”

Killian snorted slightly at the nickname, looking down at the boy in his arms. Harrison’s eyes were starting to droop again. Finally. He breathed a sigh of relief for a moment.

“You’re going to keep insisting on calling him that, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Henry scoffed. “It should have been his name. Han would have been the perfect name for the son of a princess and a pirate. He’s going to be a dashing rogue. Just you wait.”

“Or he will be a thoughtful and courteous young man. Much like his older brother,” he remarked, looking up and catching the dark stain on Henry’s cheeks. “After all, he’s going to have you there to guide him and teach him how to be a hero.”

“You think so?” Henry’s voice held some hesitation.

“I know so,” Killian said firmly. “You know after Emma and myself, your voice is the one he knows the best. He probably is already somewhat attached to you.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” he affirmed. “If he already doesn’t, he will definitely love you. Harrison couldn’t have asked for a better older brother.”

“Can I…Can I hold him?” Henry asked, once more unsure of himself.

The question gave Killian a bit of a pause. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Henry because he did, but Killian really didn’t want to jostle Harrison’s damaged collarbone any more than he already had. Though after seeing the anxious expression on his stepson’s face, he knew that there was only one proper answer to the question.

“Of course, you can. You need to be careful though because he got battle wounded on his way out, but you can hold Harrison whenever you want, Henry. He’s your little brother.”

“Cool.”

Killian frowned as Henry reached for the bottom of his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“You said that skin contact is good for babies and for bonding and he’s my brother…I just thought…is this weird?”

“I haven’t read studies talking about siblings, but I don’t see the harm in it…It’s not weird…It’s…You���re very thoughtful, Henry.”

Henry took off his shirt, tossing it into the nearby waiting chair. He looked at Killian expectantly, fingers practically twitching at his sides. As carefully as he could, Killian transferred his little boy over to his stepson, ever mindful of his left arm. Henry’s lips broke into a smile that Killian never had seen the lad wear before as he gazed down at Harrison.

“Mindful of the arm, Henry,” Killian reminded gently.

“I know…I got this…” Henry responded, not looking up from his brother. “Hi Harrison…you’re big little guy, you know? I’ve been waiting a long time for you. Since I was old enough to want anything, I wanted a little brother or sister. It took you long enough, but I guess you’re worth the wait.”

A strange lump formed in Killian’s throat as he heard Henry speak to the little one. Emotions that he hadn’t expected were quelling up inside of him and he wondered if this was how his mother felt when she had seen Liam and him when he had been a child. He couldn’t imagine Brennan Jones feeling anything considering he sold away his eldest sons, but his mother? She had been a gentle soul who had loved them both dearly before she died. He felt mixture of love, pride, gratitude and humility. He was never more grateful that Harrison had Henry for an older brother.

“This is both the most relaxing and most stressful thing I’ve ever done, I think,” Henry said after a moment.

“Adrenaline and oxytocin,” Killian replied lightly. “You’re afraid you’re going to hurt him, so that’s the adrenaline right there, but according to all the studies I’ve read, direct skin contact leads to the production of oxytocin, whatever the devil that is, but apparently it makes you happy.”

“You’re becoming quite the modern man, Hook.”

“I have to,” Killian replied with a heavy sigh. “If my son is going to be raised in this realm, I need to know as much as I can about it and how it works.”

“That’s reasonable.” Henry’s grin grew softer and more tender. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you. It’s just this is kinda amazing and you’re spouting off about adrenaline and oxytocin.”

“It’s the only way I can comprehend it in words, because really it’s bit indescribable. Awe-inspiring. Fantastic. Just wait until you hold your own child. I swear your heart will feel like it wants to rip itself out of your chest.”

“That might not be for a long while,” Henry muttered, shifting on his feet. Harrison let out a noise that made it clear he was not pleased with the movement. “You and Mom not planning on having any more kids?”

“Your brother is only four-days old. Give us a break. Let’s make sure we don’t mess this one up before we add any other children to the mix,” Killian responded rather defensively, raking his hand through his hair.

The truth was that Emma and his discussions on children had always been short and brief. The conclusion of nearly every conversation they had had been to delay conclusion for another time. They hadn’t planned on Harrison at all. He had been surprise and not one that had not been so happy in the beginning.

Despite his initial reservations, he would never regret Harrison. His newborn son was gift that he could never have asked for. Though, whether or not he would be the first and only was still up in the air. Killian wouldn’t mind if they had more children, but he was certain that Emma would be not be as enthusiastic to get pregnant again after such a difficult birth with Harrison.

“Sorry,” Henry replied awkwardly, breaking Killian from his thoughts. “I just…it might be kinda cool to have more than one little sibling to look after. I’m cool with little Han Solo for now though.”

“Good,” Killian chuckled. “Because your mother might kill you if you said otherwise.”

“Yeah, you might be right there,” Henry whispered.

He looked down at Harrison again and Killian followed his gaze. Harrison’s eyes were shut and his breath looked like it was evening out. He was almost asleep. Killian nearly sang the hallelujah at the sight.

“Give him back here, lad, so he can really sleep and we can too. We need as much of it as we can get. Long nights ahead of us,” Killian recommended.

Henry nodded and reluctantly moved to put his little brother back into Killian’s arms so he could carry him back in the little bassinet set up in his and Emma’s room. They had set up a rather expensive nursery not long after they had found out Emma was pregnant, but had agreed to let him sleep with them until he reached six months. With how protective he was feeling at the moment, Killian wondered if he would ever feel comfortable moving his son into the nursery. It didn’t seem likely.

As Henry moved to retrieve his shirt, Killian placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. I’m proud of you. You did good,” he whispered.

“Thanks…Dad.”

[ecotone99]

Perfect Murder

A new day, a new dawn. The lack of light in my room this morning instantly alerts me to the weather as I awake. Looking out the window, I see snow falling outside and everything it seemed to have blanketed overnight. I sit up with a tired yawn, lowering my feet gingerly to the cold mahogany floor. I quickly pull them upon contact, the icy floor sends shivers down my spine. “Skye! Come down, breakfast is ready!” I hear my mother’s fraudulently joyful call me from the kitchen below. I’ve never paid my mother’s mid life crisis any real mind, though it could be advantageous today. She’ll do almost anything to feel like a good mother and I have been wanting a new coat lately. I look down and spot my slippers slightly hidden in the shadows under the bed and slide them on, then open my bedroom door and make my way down the flight of rickety, creaky stairs to the kitchen. “Morning son.” My dad says in his usual stoic drawl, reading the newspaper while he drinks his morning coffee like we’re in a sitcom or the 1960s. “Morning dad.” I pull a disingenuous smile on to my face and force brightness into my tone. Most weekdays I’m able to avoid breakfast with them due to a cleverly timed, extensively long shower or the “mysterious” disappearance of my shoes, but today I’m so tired from a lack of sleep that I forgot. “So honey, what’s new at school?” “Nothing much mom, just the midterm project for Chem and a big Algebra 2 test.” I respond, able to keep half of my deceitfully happy smile as I eat the bland, cardboard like pancakes my mother makes on Fridays. I have to douse them in syrup to get some semblance of bud-awakening taste, but mom seems to conveniently not notice every time. “A big test huh son? I know my boy is gonna ace it.” He says as he lowers his newspaper to give me a grin and a wink. Sometimes, I swear my father isn’t even a real person, he’s just a comic book character who unfortunately ended up in the real world and managed to adjust. Every time he calls me his son, I can’t help but hold a condescending smile internally at his willful ignorance. I don’t actually care what he calls me, as long as I get my weekly allowance. Except today I want more. “So dad.” I say as I shift my expression to the best imitation of sadness I can muster. “Some of the boys at school have been making fun of me.” I throw in a slight pout for added effect and focus my gaze on the floor. My father’s immediately slams his newspaper down on the table, his face contorted with anger, which makes mom jump. “What?! Why?!” He says, clearly unable to keep his voice down despite his own best efforts. “They keep calling me poor because I never have more than twenty bucks every week, while they have forty or fifty.” I say, sure I’ll convince them as I blink away the most crocodilian of tears and avert my gaze. Dad’s expression softens and he pulls out his wallet, handing me a fifty. I look up from my “crying” and sniffle, slowly reaching my hand out to take the dollar bill from him. Slowly, I let a calculated smile slip onto my face, counterfeit admiration in my eyes as I look to him. “Thanks dad, you’re the best.” Is my soft reply, the bill finding its way quickly into my pocket as I stand up and hold my plate out for my mom to take. She does with a nod for me to go get ready for school with a smile of her own. I nod in return, quickly making my way back up the stairs to my room.

Once inside, I rifle through my drawers for an outfit I like “What to choose…” I say quietly before I spot a navy blue turtleneck and gray shirt, deciding to pair it with navy, curve-hugging jeans and a pair of gray boots. “Hmmm…” I audibly remark, wondering what it is that’s nagging at the back of my mind, what it is that I’ve forgotten. I suddenly realize that I nearly forgot to shower and proceed to power walk down the hallway, throwing my clothes onto the pristine marble countertop, stripping my pajamas off to get in. I turn on the shower and the heat of the water floods the room with steam, the light pitter-patters of my feet echo throughout. I’m about to get in when I catch a glimpse of my bodily reflection and step back to get a better look. I let my eyes travel up my body from my feet to my head and take note of my form’s duality. Slim legs with decently muscular thighs lead up to curvy, defined, and noticeable feminine hips, following further up to a toned but slim chest and arms with lithe, noticeable muscle. My own form has always been something I approved of. It’s feminine but also masculine, never leaning too much towards a single one. It serves a purpose and it performs it efficiently. I refocus my attention back to the task at hand and step into the shower. The water brings warmth and relaxation, though I barely have time to enjoy it. Grabbing a hand towel and soap I quickly wash my body off before moving on to my hair, running water through luscious black curls as fast but thoroughly as I can. Shutting off the water, I step out of the shower and dry off with a green towel before I pull my clothes on. My outfit must’ve been heated by the shower’s steam, my chosen clothes wonderfully warm as I slip into them and my muscles relax further. Unable to rest in the peaceful comfort of my heated clothes, I make a B-line from the shower to my room once I leave it and quickly sweep up my books, pencils, and notebooks into my bag then stuff necessities like my wallet and keys into my pocket along with my knife, finally rocketing down the stairs and out the door before I waste time on parental goodbyes. I’m greeted with the pleasant chill of a twenty degree morning as soon as I get outside, the cold refreshing as I begin the eleven block walk to school. I wait at least two blocks and then look back to see if mom or dad were peeking out the window to watch me. “No one.” I say, reaching into my coat pocket.“Perfect.” I pull out a cigarette along with my lighter and quickly light it before taking an enormous drag, then pull it from my mouth with two fingers to exhale a cloud of smoke. Cancer never tasted so good. The fallen snow soaks up much of the cities’ ambient noise, leaving me in the pleasant quiet of my own breath. I walk the next six blocks rather fast and decide after looking at my phone’s clock that I have enough time to head to the park across from my school and smoke another cigarette before I head in to first period. I look both ways, then cross the icy, slippery street and head into the snowy, barren park. Frozen, leafless trees that were once verdant beauties are now stone-like monuments to seasons gone-by. Wiping off a five foot stone pillar with my glove, I hop up onto it and set ciggy number two alight to take another drag, exhaling a wispy cloud into the chilly morning air. As I start to daydream, I nearly jump off the pillar in surprise, a familiar voice startles me. “Skye! Hey! Skye!” It’s the voice of Darren, my toy. He utterly dwarfs my five foot four inch height at six foot two, jogging over. He smiles warmly and I keep my own expression calm and devoid of discernible, specific emotion.. “Hey..” I dully reply. My annoyance at his meaningless exuberance makes it difficult to keep my voice monotone, though I keep my focus on what I need from him and that helps. I have always kept my relationship with him a secret, namely because he’s friends with the rest of the heteroagressive jocks and if they knew we were dating then they might pick on both of us. That’s not something I normally would care about, as my last bully Jake Marino conveniently went missing last summer and hasn’t been found. This is all subverted however, when he sweeps me off my feet and carries me like a princess, as if I’m weightless, pulling me close and pressing his lips to mine. I twitch in surprise and excitement flows through me for a moment before it fades. With his lips still firmly pressed to mine, I consider the ramifications of him going public with our relationship. Through my thoughts I feel a memory bubble up to the surface: the night Darren and I first met. It was at the popular girl Dejah’s junior prom house-after-party. I’d never really been friends with her but the party was open to everyone, much like Dejah that night, so I decided to go and soak up any drunkenly released secrets, figuring I could use them for blackmail if I needed to.. I picked out a nice outfit: a skirt, shirt, leggings, and boots that all had the same black and pink color scheme. A few people at the party commented on the edginess of my outfit, which I wholly ignored. After hours of listening for anything useful and coming up with little, I eventually found myself sitting in a tree, gazing up at the stars through a gap in the branches. That’s when he first spoke“Hey!” I ignored it at first, as I thought he was talking to someone else nearby, but when he called out again I looked down. “Hello.” I responded coldly, uninterested in wasting my time with another homophobe. “Come on down from there? I wanna talk.” He asked, a friendly smile on his face. Intrigued as to how I could use this to my advantage, I came down and he struck up a conversation with me. Topics ranged from the party to our classes to personal interests, none of mine being real of course. As the night went on, we ended up in one of the house’s many guest rooms, probably after our drunken classmates had pushed us off so many couches that we decided a more private spot would give us the space to have a more fleshed out conversation. Once we had sat down on the room’s queen-sized bed, I looked over at him and observed his features: plush lips, angular face, blonde slicked-back hair and, to anyone else, striking green eyes. Handsome, acceptably so. I was about to tell him I should head home, as I saw no further use in continuing our conversation, but then he kissed me. I was mildly surprised when he did, though I suspected he was going to try something with the way he kept staring at my lips. Seconds passed, as I considered if this was something that I should logically pursue. After I came to the conclusion that there were more pros than cons, I pushed into it and closed my eyes. Through the night we fell deeper and deeper into each other, his hands roamed my body, appreciating every inch of me. “Darren.” I’d stopped him right before he was about to mark my neck with a bite. “Yes Skye?” He asked with an adorably innocent smile and an inquisitive tilt of the head. “Are you into exclusivity?” I asked. Darren shrugged. “I’ve never done this with a guy before so….” He said in a half-whisper. “First, I’m not a guy for future reference. Second, that’s not an answer.” “No, I’m not exclusive, but if you want to be, I’m down.” I made a quick decision, noting that Darren could be useful and keeping it exclusive, at least to his knowledge, could make him more loyal down the line. I imitated passion and kissed him again hard, pulling him down on top of me. Flashing back to reality, I break from our kiss in the park. “I thought you wanted to keep this private.” I say, raising a brow. Darren grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, but I….I don’t want to hide it anymore. I think we should go public with-” Darren is cut off suddenly by another voice behind us. “Darren? Darren Waters?” It’s Dejah, her tone incredulous as well as her expression. He whirls around to face her, his stance stiff and caught off guard. “Dejah? What are you doing here?” He asks, as I wipe my lips with my thumb and walk up next to him. Dejah is dressed in her usual red and blue outfit, her expression as cocky as ever. “I was just heading off to class when I saw y’all over here.” She says, the confidence in her actions bleeding out of every pore. “I see after four years at this damn school you’re still just as incapable of minding your own business as freshie you was.” I say, folding my arms. I never particularly liked Dejah and often found myself considering her as a potential obstacle in the path to success. “And after four years you’re still just as much of a faggot.” Dejah responds. I remain expressionless, formulating various ideas for how to take care of her.. “Dejah, I think you should go now.” Darren says sternly. “Alright alright-” Dejah says with a smirk, turning to walk off. “I wonder what your football friends are gonna say when they hear about this.” She says, confirming what I suspected moments ago. Time seems like it’s slowing down, as I watch her walk off to the crosswalk, taking note of her surroundings as well as mine. Green traffic light. Icy sidewalk. Speeding school bus. I know what I have to do. To finish high school sans any hindrances. To succeed. I push Darren’s arm out of the way and walk towards Dejah, taking a book from my bag and holding it out to her to take it, as I know that’ll make what I’m about to look entirely accidental to anyone watching. Once I’m close I “slip” on the ice and fall forward into her, pushing Dejah into the road as I shift my own expression to one of appropriate shock and surprise. I land hard on my hands and knees, ignoring the pain as I quickly look up to see the bus slam into her. But all I see is a red streak on the frozen street.

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