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haechanokeh · 3 years

Text

[teaser] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 2 ] [ Chapter 3 ] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

pairing: popular college! mark x average! reader

genre: romance, smut, angst, series.

warning (general): corruption, oral sex (both receiving and giving), cream pie, rough sex, mention of religion, rough sex, self-esteem, public sex, sub! reader, sex toys. possessive mark two-faced mark, psychology

you cried your eyes out, face shoved in your pillow and muffling your sobs. you didn't who told you those words, it was mark but he's not the same guy you fell in love with and the guy you said yes with today. your phone was ringing nonstop so you have to turn it off but mark was too eager so he's now in front of your house banging and shouting your name begging you to open the door and talk to him.

what he told you was possible, that they didn't care for you and you have to admit that it stings but his words are not responsible for your vulnerability right now, it was the unknown mark. you didn't like him just because he's kind, it was just one out of the nth god knows the reason why you love him. he made you so special, he was right that he's the only person who cared about you in your class but the unfamiliar mark you saw a couple of hours ago was scary. it gave you goosebumps, you were frightened it's as if anytime he will hurt you.

you heard a hard stomp inside your room and you quickly sat up and surprisingly it was mark inside your room who entered the room through your open window.

"fuck, y/n." he ran into you and pulled you up into his arms. "I'm so sorry, this will never happen again." he whispered and caressed your hair. "i will not let lucas and my friends break us, shhh i am truly sorry. you only need me, so don't worry."

your body froze in shock and your heart beating so fast. he's not sorry.

"what..." you whispered in disbelief, you can't understand why he can't understand that he's wrong as well.

"we're okay now right? let's just forget everything, y/n... hmmm?" he looked at your face and looked into your eyes but he saw nothing but unpleasant. he felt rage rushing in his whole system. "what do you want! i already apologize!" he squeezed your jaw.

you were shaking in fear as his loud voice boomed in your room. his nose was flaring, his eyes were dripped with spite, and his chest where heaving. he's so mad at you and you're scared and confused.

that's when you realize, there's something wrong with him.

"m-mark, you're hurting me." you sobbed. mark snapped out of his senses. he quickly removed his hands from you and embraced you.

"I'm sorry." he sincerely said and kissed your cheeks and shove his face against it. "I'm so sorry, please don't leave me." he kept on apologizing non-stop. his hands were trembling you could feel it as he was clutching your arms.

"mark? mark?" you panicked. "mark? are you okay?" your fear from him vanished and changed into a concern to him. this is not normal.

you tried to get away from his arms but he's not budging, you stopped wriggling when you heard him whimper.

"don't leave me, can't. i really can't, i will lose myself." he begged like he's close to hopelessness. you gently pushed him to look at his face. your heart was stabbed when you saw how vulnerable he looked.

"mark..." you voice broke, you really don't know what to say because this is your first time to see him like this.

this is why mark never pursues someone or something he likes, he became possessive in fear that it will slip away from him, like his friends' admiration and respects towards him, the trust from his parents, and how they look at him as the perfect son, the people's respect on him because of his kindness and intellect, and his high grades- all of these are his goals and obsession but you're different. he can confidently allow these to get away from him in exchange of not losing you. you become his obsession. mark is aware that he has a problem but doesn't want to admit it and keep on insisting that this is part of his life... when it is not. everything about it is not normal, because when he faces rejection he felt anguish, loss, stress, and anger. there was a point where he tried to consider hurting and taking his life but he was taught that this is a grave sin and again, he felt disappointed that he is thinking of doing a grave sin which added made it worse to his anxiety. 3 years ago, he talked to his psychologist professor and was diagnosed with depression and attachment disorganized anxiety. he only attends one counseling session because he couldn't accept that there's something wrong with him and if people will find out about this he will lose all the respect.

ask him. you were pushing yourself to speak what's wrong? do you have a problem? you want to ask him but you became voiceless.

"mark, i want you to be honest to me okay?" your voice was shaking trying to control it from whimpering and tears rolling on your cheeks. "are you going through... something? do you want to talk about it?"

mark was spacing out while looking into your eyes but inside his head, it was in extreme chaos. he's having a second thoughts on telling that he has anxiety.

"mark, i love you so much but i need to understand you first so i know what to do and to make sure that you're receiving it. can you trust me?" you were convincing him and mark can see it through your eyes.

he gave up.

"i'm a mess." he broke down. mark's voice cracked and tears falling filled with hopelessness. you couldn't bare to see him like this so you pulled him into a passionate but slow kiss which he gladly responds.

you made him sit on your bed and straddle his hips, your hands were on both sides of his face and his hands were on the bed to support his body and your body. both of you where muffling your sobs.

"i was diagnosed depression and disorganized attachment anxiety" he confessed. you have no idea what is disorganized attachment anxiety, but you just understand that he has anxiety and depression, which was shocking.

mark lee, loved by everyone and religious boy have depression? that's when you realize, depression has no favoritism.

"how? you're..."

"when i was a kid, my parents are busy but i felt love every time they praise me and follow their lessons. i needed their praise and validation and i adopted it and became like... that and brought it until i grow up and to school. i never wanted to feel their disappointment and i never wanted to lose the respect of my parents, professors, and classmates but when i met you..." your eyes were locking with him. "you're the only thing i need and for the first time i never cared of losing it i thought i changed but i was wrong, nothing changed. i was just too possessive and obsess of you and when you told me you want to leave me..." his voice broke once again.

"it's going to be the end of me. it's been a long time since i felt rejected and i don't know what to do." he weeps and you felt weak.

mark has been your emotional support with fragile heart, you felt useless. instead of apologizing, you said the 3 words he always and shamelessly tells you.

"i love you." you pecked his lips. "i love you." your kissed it again and repeatedly do it while allowing the tears to fall.

he needs assurance that he is genuinely loved, which he is.

"mark, you are you still going to a psychiatrist?" making sure that he's managing it very well, but he shook his head. he needs help, someone who's more reliable. you hope that the next statement you will tell him will not take it as a bad thing. you rub his cheeks.

"you need to, aren't we pharmacists? aren't we push people to comply and adhere?" you smiled sadly.

"what will they think? my parents will be disappointed and sad at me, they will blame it to themselves, i know them y/n. and the people around me, they will think that i am fragile." you could see how frustrated he was.

"i thought you don't care about them anymore? i thought what matters is me? and what i think is that i love you and will love you more regardless of seeing one." you want to tell him that one day if you will do something wrong he might hurt himself or the people around him but you don't know if it's the right thing to say. this is why he needs to talk to a professional and you also need one because you can talk to them on what is the right thing to do to help mark and support him.

"if i do this you will never leave me?" you felt bad, now mark is now losing trust on you.

"if you do that, i am always right there with you." you kissed his forehead.

"and if i don't?"

"and if you don't..." you rest your forehead against his. "i am always with you."

you stared at each other for a long time sharing tons of emotion and you didn't know when it happened but both of you can't keep your hands to yourself. you're hovering over him touching him everywhere and his hands are all over your back.

you're grinding yourself hard on his pants, both of you panting but your lips never got separated, instead, it gets deeper. you pulled the hem of his pants and boxer. you pushed aside you shorts and sunk down to his length.

"fuck, that was hot." mark coulnd't help but blurt that out. you started to bounce, hands gripping his shoulders. he squeezed your breast underneath your shirt when suddenly the door clicked opened along with a women's gasp.

both of your heads turned towards the door's direction. it was your mom wearing his office uniform, holding a bowl with jaw-dropping in surprise. mark panicked, and so do you. you pulled mark's head and pulled it towards your breast, you want to gatekeep him.

"mom!" you shouted.

"i-i'm sorry I thought you look so down.. ohh..." you actually don't know what she just realized but she's nodding her head like now i get it "you have--"

"mom, get out!" she quickly closed the door.

"just so you know i will be here at 8, but if you want i can come here by 9! you can continue-"

"mom!" she made you feel embarrassed.

"my daughter has a boyfriend! finally!" she squealed as if the pigs finally learned how to fly. your mom thought this day wouldn't come but good lord your mom saw mark's face and at that moment she knew she needs mark's gene in her family tree.

"as much i loved your breast, i love to look at your face more." mark said. you release his head.

"my mom is just like that I'm sorry." you heard your mom honked. mark grinned and you gave him an apologetic look. "are you still in the mood?"

"i'm afraid i'm not anymore." mark chuckled. there's so much going on inside him plus he was slightly concerned what your mom thought of him. your mom caught him making with you but she seemed cool though but it was awkward.

"me too." deep down your blaming your mom.

you went back to class, you can't let mark skip[ another class again. you have to be a good influence. it was awkward but everyone already knows that you're dating, there's no reason to hide it and might just embrace it. mark apologized to the whole class, he didn't tell them his condition but he told them that he's going through something. even though mark still thinks that they are just using him, though at first that's how you perceived them but that really changed, for you it was a genuine friendship, they were so forgiving and i hope one day mark will accept that friendship.

since them, things went good though not perfect. his parents blamed themselves but you told them that that's the reason why mark didn't want to tell it to them, instead of continuing blaming themselves, they will give them all the love and support. mark never missed a session and you never missed going with him also.

and for the first time, you went to their church and the pastor is mark's father. you thought it was going to be like a normal day but...

"mark..." you sighed when he increased the intensity of the vibrator that he slipped while his father preaching. the front seats were occupied while you and mark are the only ones seating at the back.

you're squeezing and rubbing your thighs together, you felt so hot and wet. you badly want to moan, but that will be hard because you felt like once you moan, it will never stop.

"are you calling me love?" mark innocently asked you, he was saying that while putting the vibrator on max. you mouth opened while looking at mark's eyes. mark kept his smile while watching your orgasm face. he's doing unholy inside but worth it. he off the vibrator.

unfortunately all you can hear mark's father but can't understand it. you're still in ecstasy.

"my friends and family, it's not about finding the right person, it is becoming the right person, and if both partners think this way even the wrong shadows will be lighted by understanding. it's like saying i am the right person for the right person. tell this to your partner."

"i am the right person for the right person." mark whispered into your ears.

"hmm? what?" you weakly said. your eyes still closed. mark just chuckled and kissed your forehead.

"nothing." then put the vibrator to max.

"mark!" you screamed and everyone turned their heads towards you. you blood went down to your feet and nervously smile. "i- love your son sir..." you embarrassingly confessed. mark was trying to suppress his laugh while the people around you awed.

"and that's an example of my preach today."

you glared at mark, he just grinned and kiss your love.

"i love you too." he said.

"i want to smack you in the head." you angrily said. he just laughed.

this is going to be the last chapter. sorry for waiting to much, BUT there's a BONUS chapter there's no story on that just pure 🥵

✨if you want to be added in I’m Right For You Tag List, you can DM or Ask me so i can add you ✨

Tag List: @jenotation @babylion-mork @cloudykeiji @jjikyuu @sunshinedhyuck @wassup-haeyadwae @mrklyy @resceluwu @jenonctcity @wanlore @watermelonlovermark @erisxczenie @marksquare @lalaname

#mark lee angst #mark lee smut #nct mark #mark lee #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut

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baldwin-montclair · 3 years

Text

The Unlikely Advocate - Thunderstorm

Baldwin looks after his niece in France whilst his wife wrangles a troublesome witch in Oxford

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

———

“Darling, she’s asleep, has been for the last hour!” Baldwin took a sip of wine from the glass in his hand.

“Did you read her-“ Eileen started.

“Sleeping Beauty, I know it’s her favourite tale, even if it’s an entirely butchered version of the initial moral.”

“Maybe, but let’s not scar the seven year old with original version, just yet.”

“I defer to your wisdom,” he smiled a little, “how are things with the Oxford coven?”

“As expected, that bitch Alison is trying to get her little clique to oust me again.”

“Should I-“

“No,” the answer was abrupt, “I can handle some jumped up little cow with delusions of her own importance.”

A bright flash of light flooded the study of Baldwin’s Chateau, followed by a loud crack of thunder.

“What was that?” Eileen asked.

“Thunder clap, we’re due quite the storm.”

“Izzy hates thunder, I should come back.”

“She’s fine, she’s asleep and if she wakes up, I’ll take care of it. You can’t travel in this weather, it’s not safe.”

He heard her sigh on the other side of the phone.

“I just miss you both so much!”

“As do I you. Be safe and I will see you soon.”

After exchanging their farewells and hanging up, Baldwin returned to the pages in front of him.

Two empty wine glasses and several financial reports later, he put the pen down and leant back in his chair, turning to look at the heavy rain beating the windows. He closed his eyes, enjoying the soothing sound.

A definitive tug on the sleeve of his shirt drew his attention to the little girl in her pyjamas and holding a stuffed toy in her arms.

He had bought it for her from an old toy store when she lost her own comfort toy.

“Mr Nibbles is afraid of the thunder!” She told him, matter-of-fact.

“Is that so?” He asked in a mock serious tone, receiving a nod in response.

Eileen initially disapproved of the antique toy, frowning when he brought it home.

‘It’s creepy!’

He saw where she was coming from.

Older toys did have a tendency towards being less saccharine in expression than modern ones. Regardless, it didn’t matter, at three-years-old, Isobel studied the rabbit for a moment before picking it up and never putting it back down again.

“He told me he usually gets hot chocolate when he struggles to sleep!” She had a very well developed vocabulary for one so young.

Baldwin got up from his chair and effortlessly swept her into his arms.

“Who am I to argue with Mr Nibbles?”

Isobel giggled.

Isobel watched from her perch on the counter as he warmed the milk over the stove, chocolate and vanilla essence nearby, just one of the many pieces of culinary tips he’d learned between babysitting his niece and nephews, and, helping to raise Isobel.

“So, what is it about the thunder that scares Mr Nibbles?” He asked.

“It sounds angry,” she shrugged, “I don’t like when people are angry, or fight, fighting’s bad.”

“Sometimes,” he half agreed, “but other times it’s necessary.”

“Sarah says it’s the primitive male response to everything.”

Baldwin chuckled, the child had clearly heard the red haired witch say this thing often enough to repeat it.

“That’s possibly also true,” he nodded to the vanilla extract and Isobel dutifully handed it to him, pleased to be helping, “which is what makes it necessary.”

“Why?”

“Well, sometimes bad people threaten those we care about and we need to protect them. I actually faintly remember being called to your pre-school when some boy tried to take Mr Nibbles from you. Remind me?”

“Tommy’s was being mean. He called Mr Nibbles ugly and tried to take him to throw him in the trash!”

“And what did you do?”

Isobel thought for a second and then raised her little fist in the air.

“Bang!” She giggled.

“Exactly, bang!”

Baldwin had heard the boy’s father ranting before he even arrived at the principal’s office. As soon as he entered, however, the look of abject terror on the face of the hedge fund manager upon recognising him signalled a swift and favourable resolution.

Still, the man and his son were fortunate in not having faced Eileen, given her species’ extreme impatience with abusive males of any age.

“We’re fine now, he always keeps the bucket I like for me at golden time.”

“I feel like I have to at least try to advocate that violence isn’t always the answer but, it’s hard to argue in this case.”

“It wasn’t because of the punch,” she smiled, “he said it was because his father told him to be nice to me or they’ll have to leave their house!”

“Why?”

“Because all of their money is in this one big bag and he said that you decide how much that bag is worth.”

“Such an exaggeration,” Baldwin rolled his eyes, “but if it makes him play nice then fine.”

“Yeah, he shoved Brian the other day when he was being mean.”

“To you?”

Eileen nodded.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing, he was just saying things to try to annoy me.”

“Such as?” He asked, pouring the hot chocolate into a mug and sliding it across to the child.

“Well, we’re having a faire at school for parents and he said I can’t come because I don’t have a Mum and Dad.”

“You know that’s nonsense? Your aunt and I are your parents.”

She nodded.

“I know, he’s just-“

“An asshole!”

Isobel stared at him in shock for a few seconds before collapsing into giggles.

The storm passed, Baldwin looked over at the child fast asleep on the sofa in his study, a comfy blanket draped over her.

He picked her up and carried her to her room, settling her into the bed and left the room door ajar, just so she could follow the light if she was scared and wanted to come find him.

In the meantime, he had a vital project to undertake and dialled the number of the only person who might be able to help him.

“What have I done now?” Diana’s tone was airy and playful despite her exasperated words.

“Nothing, I uh-that is I wanted to speak with you regarding-sorry, it’s late it can wait until tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Stop,” he heard her command as he moved to hang up and thought better of it lest she materialise in his office right then, “you’re freaking me out, tell me what’s wrong!”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just need a sounding board before I speak to Eileen about a matter regarding Isobel.”

“Is she alright?”

“Yes, she perfectly fine.”

“Then what can I help with?”

“Well, you went back in and met my father, he made you his blood sworn daughter without turning you.”

“You’re still doubting that?”

“No, not at all, in fact,” he hesitated, “I want to speak with Eileen about my adopting Isobel, properly, legally and in the eyes of our community. I just don’t know the procedure, he never told me how.”

“I’m sure I can help when the time comes.”

“If, I still need to speak with Eileen first, and if she consents then I will put it to Izzy. Should probably speak to Miyako as well.”

“Why? In case she takes the news about as well as you did?” Diana needles him affectionately.

“Something like that.” He answers with a weary sigh.

“Are we talking about the same Miyako who basically kidnaps Izzy and spoils her with ice cream and gifts when she visits, that one?”

“They do get along well,” he agreed thoughtfully, “so you don’t think it’s a horrible idea?”

“I think it would be a horrible idea not to!”

“Thank you, sister, having your support in this matter is welcome.”

“Don’t mention it, and Baldwin?”

“Yes?”

“You are already her father in all the ways that matter and you’re a good one, she’s lucky to have you.”

“Not as lucky as I am to have her, and, I suppose,” he started grudgingly, “to have you for a sister.”

“Aww, that’s so cute,” she teased, “you’re gonna get such a big hug from me next time I see you!”

“You shouldn’t threaten the head of your family, it’s disrespectful!” He retorted with a smile.

“Goodnight Baldwin.” She chuckled before hanging up.

#baldwin montclair #a discovery of witches #adow #baldwin de clermont #adow baldwin fic #adow baldwin #adow fic

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 5 years

Text

The Black Swan

Chapter 1

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 3731

Chapter: 1/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Prince Simon of Watford hates being a prince. He would rather be with his friends than try to learn tax policy. While adventuring in the scary woods with Penelope, Simon finds a strange boy who somehow transforms from a swan into a human when he sits on a lake. Simon immediately becomes fascinated with the boy and his mysterious existence. And as he learns more, Simon's feelings start to deepen. But when the stakes get higher, can those feelings triumph over their struggles?

Read on AO3

AN: Hello everyone, and welcome to my big bang! It's super long, I spent hours trying to fix stuff that I'm still not 100% on, and I'm very happy I actually did it. And I really do like it, I'm just way too critical of myself. I wrote this because A) I love fantasy AUs, B) I love the Swan Lake ballet, and C) I love the webcomic based on Swan Lake “The Prince and The Swan” by April Pierce which I recommend you all read it's awesome. So this an AU based off both the ballet and the comic. I'm posting the first two chapters today cause I feel like them together is a good start to the story. I'll be posting every monday and every other Thursday.

Shoutout to my artist @bookerella who made amazing art for this fic. I’ll be linking her piece for this chapter at the end. And another shoutout as always to @carryonmylovelies because she has been my rock for the past five months through writing this fic and along with a lot of other struggles. She's the best and I love her with all my heart. And after all that, please enjoy the first two chapters of The Black Swan. Hope y'all like it :)

———————————————

Burning, everything was burning

The whole world was engulfed in flames and reeked of smoke. Simon didn’t know where he was. Only that this body wasn’t his. The arms were small, pudgy, that of a young boy. But he felt the muscles move and the skin heat up with the flames. They licked at him but didn’t touch, bending away before contact.

“Darling, where are you?!” a woman’s voice yelled, followed by an ear piercing scream.

Simon started running immediately. He didn’t know why, just that he had to go. He ran past the creaking wood, the scorched stone, looking for where the voice was coming from. Consciously, he didn’t know who it was, but he knew he had to get to her. A burning beam nearly crushed his head, but he kept going. He needed to get to her.

“Mum!” His voice shouted. It wasn’t his though, yet it came from his mouth. Rather, it was a child’s voice, desperate and afraid. Simon could feel tears streaming down the boy’s face, created from smoke and fear.

“Where is she?” Simon asked himself from the boy’s mouth.

Another scream rang out. Simon started running again. He couldn’t see. There was too much debris and smoke and fire to find anything. But he reached her room eventually, using all his short might to force the doors open. The boy’s mum was standing right in the centre of a ring of fire. Her grey gown was in charred shreds, hair obscuring most of her soot covered face. A thick arm was wound around her neck. She was struggling to breath, from smoke and the person choking her.

“Mum!” he shouted with voice that wasn’t his again. “Stop hurting her!”

“Run,” she rasped out. The person with the thick arm looked at him. His eyes were piercing blue, filled with a killer’s rage. The boy backed up slowly. “Run!”

And so he ran. He was running as far as his little legs could carry him, ducking and weaving through the burning debris. She told him to run. So he would, he would do whatever she said. Run, run, run-

“Not so fast, brat.” The man grabbed his small fancy collar so hard he choked. His voice was smooth, confident, completely sure of his own power. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got other plans for you.

He tried to scream, but the man’s grip was too tight for speech. The burning world slowly turned black.

———————————————

“Simon. Simon. Simon!”

Simon jolted awake so hard his head smacked against his wooden chair. He whined as he rubbed the sore spot. King David stood over him from the other side of the desk. He had his hands on his hips, glaring at his adopted son with extreme disapprovement.

“Yes?” Simon grumbled.

“Were you sleeping when you were supposed to be studying battle techniques?” David asked in a way that meant he knew the answer.

“N-No,” the prince lied with a shaky voice. David kept glaring, and Simon sighed. “I’m just tired from studying, Father, sorry.”

David shook his head, crown shifting on his brown curls. “I’m disappointed, Simon. You’ve been the crown prince full time for a year now, you should know how to cope. I brought you here to be my heir. The least you can do is try.”

Simon picked at his nails, a nervous habit he still hadn’t broken over the years. Another thing David was disappointed in. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Words are meaningless, Simon. Do better. Now come along, we have a council meeting.”

Simon had to suppress a groan. He hated council meetings. They were always so boring. They made him really want to find the executioner so he could be put out of his misery.

He did up his embroidered tunic properly and put the gold circlet back on his head anyway. He wanted all these damn things off so bad. The circlet always got too hot and made his forehead sweat. And the formal attire was so damn itchy. Simon was never comfortable when he dressed like a prince. Even years later, he still wondered if David made a mistake, picking him to be his heir.

David pushed open the council room doors with flourish, green cloak flapping behind him. He always did it so much with flourish, always making a grand scene when he greeted the council. Penny would roll her eyes.

“All rise,” Sir Premal announced, “for his majesty, King David Owens of Watford. And for his royal highness, Crown Prince Simon Owens of Watford.”

The lords stood, hands clasped in front of them respectfully. They all look bored, as usual. Nobility weren’t allowed to enjoy themselves. Simon was pretty sure it was written in the Constitution of Watford Kingdom. Though some of their eyes flicked to Simon and narrowed. He could feel the contempt and snobbery radiating off them. He knew what some of them thought of him deep down; just a lowly orphan painted up to impersonate a prince. Simon couldn’t disagree. A lot of the time, he felt like that too.

David stood at the head with Simon right beside him on a smaller chair. Everyone’s chairs had to be smaller than David’s.

“Be seated,” the king said. All the hardwood scraped on the stone simultaneously. Simon desperately wanted to slump further, but he knew David would yell at him later. It wasn’t worth the ear ache.

The King opened his large leather bound ledger. He kept meticulous finance records. Many would say he was obsessive. And many would be correct. “Now, the tax increases have been fully implemented. Have you all of you have been collecting well?”

His tone made it incredibly clear that this was a question with specific answers. David’s questions always came with specific answers. The lords shifted minutely, the closest they’d ever come to protest, and replied with a monotone “yes” as they handed their bags of collected gold pieces. Not Lord Grimm though. He merely pushed down his burlap sack while staring straight ahead. He rarely spoke during these meetings. Simon assumed it was because David took his late wife’s throne, the same throne that was originally meant to be passed down to his late son but was now going to Simon. Simon couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t like being constantly reminded of his family’s demise either. Maybe not talking made it easier.

“Good,” David said as he checked off every province. “Any disturbances from the people?”

“No,” the speaking lords replied.

“Wonderful.” David snapped his ledger closed. “Now, there’s the matter of the old Hampshire property. It’s fallen into complete disrepair over the past few years, what with Lady Fiona moving and no one else living there. I suggest we demolish it for building materials. The new castle extension needs stone. Any protests?”

No one spoke up, because David’s cold expression told them not to. Not even Lord Grimm said anything, which Simon found surprising. Hampshire was the oldest Pitch family property. They owned it before becoming the royal family. But he said nothing. Just stared ahead with a bored expression. Simon still instinctively shied away though. Lord Malcolm Grimm always looked like a white haired pit viper, calm most of the time but definitely could kill you in an instant. But today was a good day, because Malcolm simply looked at King David, and nodded.

David nodded back. “Good. Lord Grimm, please alert Lady Pitch of this. Are there any other matters we need to discuss?” All the lords stayed silent in response. ”Very well. You’re all dimissised. Farewell, your lordships.”

“Farewell, your majesty,” the speaking lords said.

What was the point of this? Simon thought. Less than five minutes so the King could take money from the rich people and announce he was destroying a historic building. Penelope said most of these meetings were just so David could flex his power. Simon liked to believe there was something more, but he had to admit she had a point. She was usually right.

As he and Simon were exiting, Malcolm put a hand on David’s shoulder. Simon stiffened. It wasn’t appropriate to touch a king. He remembered the day David first brought him to the castle. His new father had slapped him away when he tugged on his royal sleeve. “You ask permission to touch a king, Simon. Remember that,” he’d said. Simon had always kept to that rule, along with everyone else. Yet David didn’t look upset at Lord Grimm’s discretion. His eyes justs slid over to the side.

“Excuse my boldness,” Lord Grimm said smoothly, “but I have something to discuss with you, your majesty.” His cold brown eyes shifted to Simon. Simon tried not to gulp. “In private.”

Simon looked to his father. David nodded. “Go, Simon. I give you leave for the day.”

The prince grinned ear to ear. “Really?”

“Did I not just say so? Return by supper.”

“Yes, yes, Father, I will.” Simon was already going towards the exit as he spoke.

“Close the door on your way out.” David didn’t say please, because, “kings are above politeness, Simon.”

Simon nodded. “Yes, Father.”

As he was closing the door, Simon heard snippets of their extremely hushed conversation. Malcolm looked serious, David looked unamused.

“Insult...too long...,” Malcolm muttered.

“Very well...remember...know your place,” David replied.

Simon was too excited to leave to care for stupid royal dealings. He shut the door and immediately raced down the carpeted hallway. Past the dirty high ceilings and confining stone walls. Even though this castle was only a little over a decade years old, it had the fashions of somewhere old. David wanted it to look ancient, to make it look like his royal line was just as old as the Pitches were. Penny told Simon it was about ego or power or something. Simon didn’t care. He just wanted to leave it right now.

The second he reached his room, Simon stripped off his tunic, making his circlet hit the stone with a tink. He hopped around trying to get his pants off and nearly fell face first on the floor. That would be rich, Simon thought, a crown prince with a broken nose caused by his own inability to get out of his trousers. What a great future king I am, huh David?

Simon put on his loose white shirt and filthy riding pants. He wrapped an old scarf around his head, attempting to hide his distinctive bronze curls under the grey fabric. It wouldn’t stop everyone from noticing him of course, but it would stop enough. Enough that he could get to one particular place.

As the reluctant crown prince and graduated student of The Mage School, which sat just to the north of the castle, Simon had enough practice getting from royal property to the town quickly. He used the hidden passageways, weaving through the corridors with ease, greeting every servant by name as he passed by. He ended up in the kitchen, where Cook Pritchard was already preparing for supper.

“Hello, Mrs. Pritchard,” he said, hanging over her counter. “How’s the kitchen?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” she replied. “How’s castle business?”

“Boring, of course. Say, is that a spare scone?”

The cook gave Simon an amused look. “I believe so.”

Simon grinned brightly. Ebb told him he had a smile that could persuade armies to surrender. She was always so nice. “May I please have it?”

Mrs. Pritchard sighed overdramatically as she handed the pastry over. “Only because you asked so nicely, your highness.”

“I told you, call me Simon, please. Your highness is too long.”

“I would, but his majesty insists on formal titles. He’s quite...demanding.”

“Don’t I know it,” Simon grumbled, taking an aggressive bite of the scone. “Thank you, Mrs. Pritchard. Need anything from town?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Those carrots you found last week were lovely, thank you.”

“No problem! Thanks for the scone!”

Cook Pritchard waved as Simon dashed off. “You’re welcome, your highness, have fun!”

He absolutely would. He always had fun on days like this. Simon ran out the wooden doors, over the rawbridge, and across the great lawn. Ebb was standing there with her goat herd, magically trying to rein them in. She waved with her entire arm.

“Good morrow, Simon!” she yelled. Ebb didn’t care for formalities at all.

Simon waved back. “Good morrow, Ebb! Need anything from town?”

“Oh no, I’m alright. Just say hello to Penelope for me!”

“Will do!”

Simon ran over the grass and down the dirt road. The thick brush of the Wavering Wood separated the castle from Watford Town. Most used magic to reveal a path. But Simon didn’t trust his magic, so he knew the forest like the back of his hand instead. He made it through with ease, jumping over fallen branches and across the mossy ground, emerging into the sunlight on the other side. He immediately took a deep breath, exhaling with a long sigh. Outside the stone walls and merwolf moat, he could finally breathe.

Watford Town was the biggest collection of people in the Watford Kingdom. (Both were called Watford, which made geography lessons far too confusing in Simon’s opinion.) Large, tall houses lined busy dirt streets. Stalls were filled with people shouting out prices of their wares. Everyone was bustling and talking and laughing. Soldiers stood on street corners, watching everyone move. Simon strolled past all of them with hands in his pockets. A few of them went wide eyed seeing him, but most people didn’t even notice he was there. He sighed. This town was his real home. And he missed it all the time.

Simon walked through the downtown to the slight outskirts. He knocked on a familiar red door. A few footstep sounds later, it swung open, and Simon was looking Penelope Bunce right in the eye.

“Hey Pen,” he chirped. “Ebb says hi.”

Penny smirked. “Did you have to sword fight Davy to get him let you out during the day?”

Simon grinned even more. “Nope. He just let me go.”

“Wow. Is our good ol’ King going soft in his old age?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” he scoffed. “Can I come in? Or has your Mum finally officially banned me?”

Penny barked a laugh and steps to the side. “Like she could stop me. Get in here, you royal bastard.”

Simon whipped off his scarf off and stepped into the Bunce house. It was big, but not as big as the castle, and it felt much smaller with two adults and four children all together. Simon didn’t mind. He preferred the cozy family feeling here to his large, empty supposed palace.

“How’s the castle been?” Penny asked. Simon groaned and flopped on one of the chairs. “That good, huh?”

Simon grunted. “Bloody nightmare. I thought David was demanding while we were in school, but now he’s got me reading even more books. I think I’m going to slice my throat on a policy manual page one of these days.”

“Oh the horror of reading. Want tea?”

“Yes please. And I’m fine with reading interesting books. But these ones have too many complicated words and not enough pictures.”

Penny sighed heavily as she boiled the kettle with her wand. “I sometimes wonder why we’re friends.”

Simon twisted his head around towards the kitchen with his sunshine smile. “Because I’m nice and charming and you love me.”

“True, untrue, and yes, I do, despite my better judgement.” Penny turned to him. She was smiling a bit, but her eyes were sad. “It’s sort of weird, y’know, not seeing you everyday at school. It’s been almost a year, and it’s still weird.”

Simon sighed. He got up from the chair and strolled over to her. He draped himself over Penny like an affectionate ragdoll, chin on her head and arms around her neck. “I miss you too, Pen.”

Penelope sighed and sunk into his arms for a second. But then struggled out of his grip as the kettle whistled. “Yeah, yeah, I miss you, you big softy. Now get off me and let me make the tea.”

“Of course, will do.” He planted a big wet kiss on her cheek before flopping back to the chair. Penny soon brought over two cups with steaming tea. She took the seat opposite him, and sighed after a long drink. Her whole body relaxed. And it looked like she needed it.

“So,” Simon said, “how’s the new job?”

Penny groaned. “Horrible. You’d think there’d be better work here for a mage, but there seems to be little good use for us outside court or in the North where Micah is. Which means I’m stuck trying to sell cooking ware to people on the street.”

“I wish I could help, Pen,” Simon sighed. “If I become king, I’ll make you and Micah court mages. And you’ll be my head advisor and court mage, promise.”

She gave Simon a strange look over her cup. “You mean ‘when you’re king’, Simon, right?”

Simon sunk into his chair. He shrugged his shoulders high and slumped down. Penny slowly put her tea down and leaned forward. “Simon, you’re the crown prince. You were specifically chosen by King David to be his heir.”

“I know,” he grumbled.

“You can’t pretend you’re not anymore.”

“I know.”

“You have to accept the responsibility of-”

“I know!”

The whole house shook slightly. The side table fell over and a crack appeared in the nearby wall. Simon was horrified, his gut twisting with guilt. He put down his cup and rubbed his face up and down. Stupid magic,he thought, never listens.

“Sorry,” he groaned. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper and this is your house and I’m damaging it. Sorry-”

“Hey, Simon,” Penny stepped out of her chair and stood in front of her friend. She put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I just, I hoped you would have accepted this by now.”

Simon sighed, slumping forward. “Yeah, me too. Guess not.” He ran a nervous hand through his tangled hair. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to be a king. I barely passed my civics classes, I hate policy, I’m terrible at speaking, I can barely use this supposedly amazing magic I have. I’m never going to be like David.”

“Dear Lord, I hope not.” Simon gave Penny a weird look. “Simon, King Davy has made some good changes, but he does it with an iron fist. He just barrels through no matter what the lords or the people say. That’s not a good ruler, that’s a tyrant.”

“Don’t call him that. He’s not all bad. He took me in.”

Penelope sighed, patting him kindly. “I know. Just, don’t try to be like David, Si. Be like you.”

Simon reached up and squeezed her hand. “Okay. And you’ll be my top advisor. Or bodyguard, like Premal.”

She groaned, immediately pulling away from her friend. “Please never compare me to my brother ever again. The boy has a stick jammed so far up his arse you could mistake him for a statue.”

“Too true. He’s so still and slomen that I sometimes I run into him.”

“Please keep doing that. It might make him loosen up.”

Simon sunk further into his chair. “Hm, I’ll try.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. It still felt weird from his crown. It always did. “I don’t want to go back to the castle tonight. David’s going to make me read the geography book again.”

“Well,” Penny said playfully, “I’m not working tonight. We could go exploring the Wavering Wood, like our school days.”

“But we’ve explored all The Wavering Wood,” Simon whined. But quickly, like a lightning flash, an idea came into his wild head. He grinned mischievously. Penny instinctively leaned back.

“I don’t like that look, Simon.” She raised a cautious hand raised.

He stood up, hands on his hips in triumph. “We can explore the Forbidden Lands!”

Penny groaned. She shook her hanging head and walked towards the kitchen. As well as away from her insane friend. “I knew you would say that and I still can’t believe it,” she muttered.

“C’mon, Pen, it could be fun! We’ve been through the Wood enough. We’re old pros. This would be a new adventure!” He followed after her, practically vibrating behind her as she put away the tea blocks.

“Si, the Wavering Wood may be dense, but the Forbidden Lands are different. They’re actually treacherous. Lots of steep slopes and dangerous animals. We could get seriously hurt.”

Simon waved dismissively. “You’ve got good magic, I’ve got a sword, we’ll be fine.”

Penny gave him an unamused look over her glasses. But when Simon put on his pathetic pout, her resolve buckled. He hugged her from the behind. “Please Pen? We don’t even have to go that far in. I just want to go explore somewhere new, have some fun. Like the old days.”

She still looked unamused, but Simon pouted more, rubbing up against her hair like the affectionate puppy he sometimes was. “Please?”

Penelope stayed stoic for only a few more seconds. But soon enough she sighed, posture falling along with her resolve. “Fine,” she groaned, “we’ll go exploring.”

That made Simon, crown prince of all of Watford and most powerful mage in the land, squeal like an excited school boy. He jumped up and down while saying, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I hope you know that if you die, it’ll be my head on a pike. So stay alive.”

“Of course! And I’ll pay you back. Get you some fancy herbs from the court mage’s cabinet.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Si.”

He hugged her tight again. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”

Penny leaned against him. Simon put his cheek on her hair. He really did miss this. Mage’s School was tough, what with his lack of magical raising and previous poor schooling, but he met Penelope and Agatha. And for the first time in his life, he had real friends. He never thought he needed one until them. Now, he missed seeing them everyday so damn much.

Simon wanted an adventure. Like the great magical prince he thought he would be the day David took him in. Just one. That was all he needed.

———————————————

AN: If you're enjoying it so far, go to chapter 2 right here.

#carry on #snowbaz #cobb2018 #carry on big bang #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #fantasy au #the black swan #mysnowbazfanfic

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