The only thing OJ had was his mother. She always tried her best to impress and surprise her son,even with not much to work with. Of course his father was alive, but he wouldn't do much for OJ beyond the bare minimum. He drunk often and hit the two in that state.

One day, in a drunken fit of fury, OJ's father barrelled his fists at his mother, hitting her over and over again until she stopped moving.

Many emotions flooded through OJ's head as he watched the scene play out in front of him. Sadness, shock, confusion, but most noticeably, rage.

OJ tackled his father to the ground,wrapping his hands around the man's neck with a grip that could only be described as full intent to kill. When his father drifted into unconsciousness, he slammed his fist across the man's face,waking him up with an audible crack. The boy's strength was also unnatural. He smashed his father's head into the ground, again and again.

OJ screamed, as he heard the sound of his father's neck snapping. The slowly get off the body and walked over to his mother, falling to his knees.

For the rest of the year, OJ had to steal to eat or drink, snag clothes whenever possible, lie and deceive to survive.

Caught by a passing by knight, OJ spent a night in a small cell. Opening the door,was a face OJ never expected to show him pity. Queen Star.

She took him in quietly, observing his insane strength and his craving for justice. Placing him in training to become a royal guard, OJ excelled for the first time in years. The top candidate by sixteen. His sword skills rivaled some of the greatest knights in the kingdoms history by eighteen. Yet OJ always assumed it'd end painfully. That she'd get tired of him, and throw him away. Because of this rooted self hatred, OJ was always distant.

OJ had been ordered to enter the throne room,carrying his sword by his hip, he walked in.

"OJ, I haven't introduced you two quite yet, but I'd like you to meet my son, Paper."

Queen Star said softly, lightly pushing the other boy forward.

OJ looked at him up and down. So..angelic? Like he wouldn't hurt a fly. Beautiful, messy white and blue hair, white wings, and a small smile. OJ also picked up that he was taller than the prince.

The queen spoke up again, cutting off OJ's ogling.

"Paper here is actually a half-breed between an angel and a demon. He's strong too, definitely stronger than you, but he never truly takes anything seriously. I need you to be his knight, to keep him safe and out of trouble. Would you do that for me?"

She asked kindly.

OJ looked back at the boy again, and nodded slowly.

Two months later!

OJ and Paper talk often, Paper usually initiating every conversation, and OJ listening. Paper's often clingy with the other,and despite OJ getting annoyed when physical contact is involved, he typically let's it happen. A few petty attacks on the prince were attempted, but either OJ stopped them or Paper did it himself.

Inside Paper's room, the prince flopped onto the large bed, watching as OJ sat on the other side.

"Knighty boy."

He giggled out, addressing OJ. OJ looked over at Paper, and responded with monotony audible in his voice.

"Yes, sire?"

OJ asked without looking, before Paper jumped into his lap, his soft, plush thighs pressing against OJ'S bulge.