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itsnothesameasitwas · 3 years

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hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!

hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)

ABO

♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

MPREG

♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR

Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.

or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.

AUS

♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |

On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.

But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.

Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.

♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M

When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E

AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA

Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.

He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.

“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.

Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”

**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.

♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E

Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.

But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.

Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.

♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E

They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.

It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.

Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.

♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M

Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

—————

if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)

#friends to lovers #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hljournal #hlsource #my fic rec #larry fic rec #themed fic rec #long post #this a REAL LONG POST #sorry but yk...#fics can't wait heheh #when I was looking for fics through what I have read I noticed this is one of those tropes I barely read #but I’m always willing to read :)#hope it helps:D #ask #louisloverera

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blizabrth · 3 years

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for the unpopular/controversial opinions: rio forced rhea to unfriend beth. yea the whole thing was a snafu (understatement) but rhea was willing to look past beth's *indiscretions*

oh, wow, okay! this is an interesting one. my answer is definitely complicated because i think it's dependent on a lot, so i'll just ramble a bit and see if i have a definitive answer at the end.

so i think this is heavily dependent on how much rhea knows what happened between beth and rio. how much did rio reveal to her once he found out rhea and beth had a budding friendship? did he tell her beth shot him? did he tell her he was shot at all? i sort of lean that he didn't, that he kept the fact that he was seriously injured to himself. he likes to omit information he doesn't feel someone needs to know, and i think that would extend to rhea and marcus in this instance -- like, he's back, he's heal(ing), there's no reason to burden them with that knowledge (or to reveal more of his vulnerability around beth).

one of the biggest holes in the show to me was always his arrival back at rhea's after his long absence. would have loved to see a conversation between them over this. i got the feeling that this wasn't the first time rio up and disappeared from how rhea talked about him with beth, and how she reacted on her doorstep when he showed back up. but that this instance was Different -- it was probably longer that usual, and likely had less (if any) communication since he was under fbi sequester.

so, what did rio tell her? how did he explain that away? in typical rio fashion he was probably vague. and since rhea knows him and they have history, she probably accepted most of his vagueness. because, well, he's back, and marcus is happy to see his dad again.

but then he finds out it's beth that rhea is talking about, that it's jane that marcus is talking about being on his soccer team. and he realizes these wires -- personal and professional -- are being crossed without his control or say. beth has wormed her way deeper into his life and the lives of people he cares for while he's been caged up and healing from injuries she inflicted upon him, unawares. he doesn't want those lines to cross, but i don't think it's from any sort of possessive feelings or jealousy or anything like that. it's because it's dangerous to cross those wires -- obvious from his speech to beth in the dubby episode. it's imperative that he (and his business colleagues) do not forget the danger that they put themselves and their families in by doing the work they do. this is another instance beth blurs that line, disregarding the necessary distance that is required to keep the people they care about safe.

rhea is not involved in crime. i headcanon that she's a nurse or in some sort of healthcare field or even veterinary medicine based on how she wears scrubs in that one park scene. she doesn't even really seem to be too privy to what rio does in her conversations with beth. it's like he pays a fat check for child support and she's stopped asking questions -- which, like, valid, it's probably really painful to care for someone and know they put themselves in danger and yet they won't talk to you about it because they're trying to keep you safe.

so, he has to drive a wedge between them. for the safety of his family. and like we don't know enough about rhea to say otherwise, so, maybe she's the jealous type. maybe all he had to say is that he and beth were ~involved and that changed rhea's opinion of beth completely. or, if that's not the angle, maybe it was more -- he says, you know, she's just using you, to get money, she's a leech, she'll suck you dry, etc, etc, etc. whatever spin he put on it, there was the real emotion of betrayal behind his words, and so it was believable. and so rhea believed him.

and so she stopped trusting beth. and ultimately, beth lied to her. so it wasn't unfounded. and so beth's reaction when rio returned, to be sheepish and apologize (vaguely lol just like rio), it only confirmed whatever story rio spun to rhea. and she was disgusted. in the short moments we got with rhea, she came off as a genuine, caring, friendly person. and regardless of what happened, i don't think she can forgive being taken advantage of, which is what beth ultimately did, regardless of what happened between her and rio.

and so that's what i think was the nail in the coffin. rhea really was just looking for a friend, and beth took advantage of that. there would be no coming back from that sort of unfaithful behavior.

..............................................so idk! i'm not sure how i feel about this, because we have so little canon-context for this! these are all just my headcanons and thoughts, and really it's just super, super complicated. i think they wanted us to believe that rio told rhea that beth shot him? maybe? but the sort of emotional reactions i would expect from that didn't happen on screen, so, that's why i think otherwise.

i guess, technically, i agree? but mostly because i don't see any way rio would be "okay" with rhea and beth staying buddies under the context of, well, everything.

would definitely be open to hearing other opinions on this though! this was really interesting to think about. thanks for sending it to me <3

send me an unpopular/controversial opinion and i’ll tell you if i agree or not!

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whimstories · 3 years

Text

Summary: Vague Isekai concept. Marinette is transported into a world she read in a book and comes to fall for the female lead who was drastically misrepresented in the novel.

A/N: I didn’t expect to write some random scenes today. This isn’t a full story, sadly. I just wanted to post some things I wrote because Marigami needs more content, and this pairing is vastly not given the attention and respect it deserves.

Enjoy ~ ✨

//////////////////

“But I don’t wish to be just a man’s wife, I want…I wish to be…”

“But you are!” Marinette exclaimed.

Kagami’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You don’t need permission or approval, you’re already a politician. A scholar. A warrior. Your sword is more beautiful than anyone I’ve seen. You don’t need to waste your breath wishing.”

“You say that but—“

“Please don’t contradict me. It hurts me to see you doubting yourself so much when you’re already beyond extraordinary.”

Kagami’s cheeks flushed a rosy color and she looked shyly at the ground. “You’re full of praises today.”

“Make it more difficult to find praise then,” Marinette grinned. “I wish I had half your virtues.”

“You’re much more virtuous,” Kagami whispered, sounding almost too sincere. For a moment Marinette’s heart stopped, fluttering with warmth and searing pride. But she covered it with a sip of her tea, knowing better.

Marinette smiled kindly. “So when are we going to interrupt the men’s meeting on that dreadful land acquisition?”

“We shouldn’t.” Kagami sighed.

“All the more reason.”

“Adrien would be embarrassed and mother would be furious. I couldn’t possibly.”

“Adrien is a bit…slow at times. I think he’d be elated to see his wonderful fiancée standing for what she believes in. He’s that much of a good man, at least.”

“Yes…he is good,” Kagami glanced at Marinette as if to add something but looked away again in thought. “But mother will hear of it. There’s no returning from disappointing her.”

Marinette hesitated, knowing the fear of failing one’s family. “Your mother is as accomplished as you are, yet I find it odd she doesn’t support your dreams.”

“My mother is a traditionalist. She accomplished much, but she’s calculated and conservative. She’s never acted outside the bounds of societal law. She expects the same of me.”

“You make her sound villainous.”

“Another conservative term for her.”

Marinette bristled in her seat and when Kagami looked at her she lifted a napkin to her mouth where a small amused noise burst from her lips. “She’s not so horrible. I admire my mother in many ways.”

Marinette wished she’d move the napkin so she could view the rare sight of Kagami’s smiles but her eyes also burst with a fondness that was equally as lovely. “But you believe your situation will grow worse if you disobey her.”

“No...I—“ Kagami sat in silence for a while, then her brows furrowed. “I’ve never disobeyed before,” she finished.

Marinette looked at her sadly but righted herself with a cross of her arms and feigned a huff. “Kagami, fold your napkin.”

Kagami snapped her head upwards, alert. She slowly did as instructed. “Yes? Why, what’s the matter?”

“Stand.”

Still confused, she stood with the good graces bestowed on her education.

“Walk towards me please and grab my hand.”

Kagami walked a step before hesitating. Her face seemed to freeze in a panic. “Won’t you tell me why?”

“Can you not do it?” Marinette parried.

Kagami blinked back, clearly challenged but slowly took Marinette’s hands in a gentle hold. They were soft and warm, yet strong and worn from training. Marinette had to ignore her thrill. “Now, look me straight in the eyes and tell me,” she paused dramatically, “you do not regret eating my pastries.”

Kagami looked surprised. “They were amazing, I’ll cherish them the rest of my days. Of course, I’d never regret it.”

Oh. Marinette was teasing but the sincerity suddenly made her hands feel very warm. Marinette blinked violently to play off the warmth of her face. “A-and that you do not regret wearing that Louis Forton gown to the last gala.”

Kagami sighed and her lips fought from curling. The dress was truly a complicated monstrosity that even amnesia couldn’t sear from the mind. “That was unavoidable. I can forgive that much.”

“And that you won’t regret your arranged engagement.”

Her hands flinched in Marinette’s. “I—of course, I—never would,” she said, stilted, and blatantly looked away from Marinette’s gaze that Marinette was surprised.

She continued, “And that the feeling of satisfying your mother is more precious than the feeling of picking up a sword.”

Kagami’s face stilled. Her hands clenched Marinette tightly, but she stared forward in a new sense of wonder. A sense of clarity. Her eyes shone with a wet sheen, like a diamond forming dewdrops.

She stood a long while, opening and closing her mouth. “Am I allowed such a thing? To not say it?”

“It would not make you less of a wonderful daughter.”

“But it would make me a selfish one.”

“For a parent, a child could never be selfish. You’ve never been disobedient, so how can you know how she would react?” Marinette said. “And even so, even if she reacted poorly, she is not the one who has to live your life. Endure the choices. It is not your fault you were born a duchess’s daughter, but it is your responsibility to shape what this life has presented you. And so far you have disregarded that responsibility.”

“Then what should I do?” She asked slowly, as if sure no one could have an answer.

“What you want,” Marinette said simply with a shrug and a smile.

Kagami hummed, staring at Marinette. Marinette could imagine she perhaps admired Marinette’s nativity, and that Marinette’s words meant nothing at all. But it hurt her to see such a wonderful person, a wonderful spirit like Kagami feeling trapped when she had such potential.

Then Kagami’s face lifted miraculously into a soft smile. A rare and blossoming sight that shone like colors bouncing from her chest. Kagami grasped and lifted Marinette’s hands to her mouth, placing a brief kiss on the tips. Marinette’s face inflamed.

“Thank you,” Kagami whispered.

“W-what for?” Marinette laughed nervously, not sure what else to do. “I just told the truth. I hope I wasn’t acting too ridiculous.”

“You’re never ridiculous. I always enjoy being with you. I’m very glad we’ve met, Marinette.”

God, this woman is a weapon. I don’t think I can stand. Marinette finally pulled her hands away and contradicted herself by standing with enormous force.

“Yes, I always enjoy your company too. Gosh, it’s warm. I should go for a walk. Not you though, you should finish your tea. Not that I don’t think you’ll keep up or incapable just—I’ll return, okay?”

——-------------

“Marinette? Are you there?”

“Marinette sat upright and stared disbelieving at her door. “Kagami?” she whispered and ushered to open the door. Kagami stood, swaying slightly at the entrance.

“Marinette,” she said the name so simply and with sweetness Marinette knew she was not of the right mind.

“Come inside quickly.” They walked to Marinette’s bed and sat. “Did you drink?”

“The men wanted to have talks in the parlour. I didn’t back down and joined them.”

Marinette became alarmed. “They didn’t harm you or—?”

Kagami shook her head a little dramatically. “Many of them collapsed after I challenged them to some games. I ordered some maids to escort them then…well, I walked here.”

“Oh,” Marinette snickered. “I wasn’t aware you were an expert at drinking games.”

“Neither was I.”

Marinette shook her head. Of course, Kagami would be stupendous at something she never tried before. “Well, drunk or not I’m always happy to keep you company.”

Kagami smiled sweetly again. “I could not think of better company no matter the situation.”

Marinette’s heart squeezed. Two wondrous smiles in one night, Marinette might faint from sight. “You mustn’t say that when Adrien is around,” she joked.

“But I’m sure Adrien knows it as well. I can hardly bear to leave you for a moment.”

“What about sword training? I bet you couldn’t tell me I’m better company than your most treasured activity?”

“Even that…perhaps.”

Marinette's heart thundered against her chest. The room stilled and she felt she must have heard wrong. Nothing could matter more to Kagami, it was in the book. Kagami’s independence was a relationship of love itself, no matter how glorious she was, no one was enough. Yet…perhaps…

“May I…have your hand?” Kagami asked, staring intently at Marinette’s hand against the sheets. Marinette was busy stopping her heart from stuttering out of her chest and now Kagami said something so ridiculously ambiguous and wanted to touch her—Marinette didn’t think she would survive the night let alone the next few minutes.

“Can I not?” Kagami asked when Marinette took too long.

Startled, Marinette exclaimed, “Yes! Of course!” louder than proper and presented her hand upwards as if waiting for a palm reader’s forbidding prediction. She hoped it wasn’t obvious how her handle trembled.

Kagami took her hand gently, the tips of her fingers tickling the back. Their hands slid over one another at various angles: a hook of thumbs, that courteous raise of the fingers, an intertwining of fingers. Marinette’s nerves made the atmosphere feel heavy and electric. Was this not intimate by all standards? Or was she overthinking? Her heart raced and Kagami seemed to languidly test all the ways their hands would fit as if it was custom.

Marinette could not suppress her nervousness and leaned forward with a laugh. “Are you looking for something?”

Kagami’s lids were drooping and heavy, yet her gaze was fiercely focused on her ministrations. She hummed and pulled Marinette’s palm upwards. Her lips pressed firmly, right to the center of Marinette’s palm. She moved the hand towards her cheek with a content sigh and a sleepy smile.

“Yes, this is what I wanted.”

Marinette’s body screamed. She’s sure her heart stopped, how could she dare to hope to win against such a daring attack? Was Kagami a cozy drunk? It’s good she left those men behind, she would have hated showing herself like this. But to act so intimately—Marinette’s body was on fire.

After a few breaths and realizing Kagami had a firm grip on Marinette’s arm and looked much too content to be moved, Marinette took a moment to appreciate—at least a little—her position.

Kagami’s cheek was soft and smooth. It fit perfectly in her hand. Her cheek was a little warm, probably from the alcohol, but it was enticingly inviting. Marinette shifted forward, heat building between them, to get her arm more comfortable.

“Are you awake?” Marinette whispered.

Kagami blinked lazily into a droopy stare. Something told Marinette that Kagami might not remember this tomorrow.

“I’m going to lay you down to sleep.” She looked Kagami up and down. “We should probably get you a little comfortable too.”

Her grip squeezed Marinette’s wrist in emphasis. “I’m perfectly comfortable.”

Marinette laughed nervously. A clingy drunk, indeed. “I won’t leave you. W-we’ll…if you like, we can sleep together.”

Kagami nodded as if it was the most natural conclusion. “Yes.”

“Ri-right.”

Marinette edged Kagami gently to remove her outer garments. At times Kagami would catch her hand for another touch of her lips; Marinette applauded her ability to remain standing. Marinette dimmed the lights before carefully edging her way to one side of the bed. Kagami’s eyes never left her and tugged Marinette immediately down to the sheets.

“Ah, Kagami!” Marinette exclaimed, happy the dim lights could hide her warm face.

Marinette’s hand cradled Kagami’s cheeks once more, held close like some precious stuffed toy. “Let us sleep,” Kagami asserted.

How can you act so bossy when I’m the one taking care of you? Marinette’s mind grumbled.

“I hope you remember this tomorrow,” Marinette mumbled.

“I will,” Kagami sighed, close to sleep.

“If you do, you should reward me for taking care of you.”

“Anything you want.”

Marinette grinned, sly. “Don’t forget. I really suffered. Honestly.”

Kagami hummed, clearly sleeping a moment later. Her breath tickled Marinette’s wrist and her hair grazed softer than the silk pillows. Marinette’s mouth parted, staring at the soft light in the room illuminating her slightly red cheeks.

Her chest could not unravel and her gaze could not stray. Her stomach tightened and pooled with heat many times as she laid there.

Before she could fall asleep, she moved her thumb a few times against that pristine cheek. Kagami breathed deep once and sighed happily. Her lips, softer than a rose, lifted slightly. Marinette grumbled once more, “Suffering is putting it very lightly.”

——---------

Marinette woke up groggy and alone in the morning.

She stretched high to the canopy and wondered why her chest ached. The maid came in a moment later and said, “Kagami is waiting for you in the greenhouse.”

Oh. Her stomach flipped. “Was Kagami awake early this morning?”

“As usual. Not even silly wasted old men can unsettle our lady.”

Marinette hummed. Kagami probably didn’t want to disturb her. Judging from the time of day, Marinette slept later than usual. “Ah, right. I heard she drank them under the table.”

“It was a true sight!” The maid gushed. “Our lady wanted to speak about business ventures in the northern lands but they only agreed if she won a round of cards. They played various games in which the loser would drink a large cup of sake. It was a dirty rule. But she rarely lost, and never slurred or stumbled when she did. Even this morning they were grumbling over headaches and she didn’t seem phased at all.”

So she didn’t drink much last night. Is she a light drunk? Marinette giggled. “Our lady is too tremendous.”

“I was appalled when Adrien didn’t watch over her, but I suppose he knew our lady better than us all.”

“Adrien wasn’t at the parlour?” Marinette asked, surprised.

The maid was tugging Marinette’s dress into place as she said, “He headed to bed early after the first round. A man leaving his fiancee unattended with a room of stuffy men—I wanted to smack his behind the ears!”

Marinette supposed Adrien would have attended Kagami to her rooms instead of letting her wander to Marinette’s. Perhaps he was finally accepting her capabilities, but something seemed wrong about leaving outright.

“How would you like your hair, my lady?”

Marinette hummed. “Just a few pins today.”

She walked to the greenhouse, the wind playing with her loose strands along the way. She took a deep breath before going past the glass doors.

Kagami was leaning back in her seat, hair half hazardously in a ponytail and garbed in her training attire. Her clothes clung perfectly, showing off her strong legs and defined waist. The light adorned her hair like turquoise stars dancing on the strands. Marinette had to clutch her chest before it leaped out.

How does this woman look more handsome than any male model on a cheesy romance cover?

Kagami caught her eyes and Marinette held her breath. Kagami put down her cup of tea and cleared her throat. Marinette walked forward and gave a small greeting. “Good morning.”

Kagami’s eyes tentatively caught hers. “Yes. Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“It was alright.” Marinette sat and a maid poured her a cup. The color was milky and when Marinette lifted it, it was sweet. Peppermint black milk tea, her favorite. Marinette glanced upwards and fought a raised brow as she sipped. She sighed content. “You must have slept wonderfully.”

Kagami cleared her throat. Again. Marinette was fighting a smile. “When have I not?”

“Oh yes, how could I doubt you? Though, I was referring to your full day yesterday. You stuck with the men all day and left the wives and fiancees to their gossip without your input.”

“It wasn’t as scary as I thought,” Kagami said. “The men were as bad as the ladies with gossip and wholly unprepared for my education or opinions. Honestly, I feel I might have bullied them.” Her face didn’t change— as if discussing the weather— but her eyes sparkled and her tone tilted on amused.

“Is it bullying to be educated?” Marinette mused behind another sip.

“Only if you’re a woman. The element of surprise is an unfair advantage. Perhaps they’ll be more prepared next time.”

Marinette perked and grinned. “So you’re determined?”

“I feel more at ease. Perhaps I’m really not suited to being a wallflower for the rest of my days.”

“Certainly not. You should inherit and manage the Tsurugi estates and assets without the need for a partner. You’re easily capable of that much.”

Kagami’s body softened in the light. “As you’ve told me.”

“You should listen, I’m wiser than I look.”

Kagami looked down at her cup, losing herself in thought. Marinette looked around the flowers and butterflies in the afternoon. She downed another cup of tea slowly unwinding from her nervousness.

“Last night…” Kagami started slowly. Marinette hid behind her cup and raised her eyes in acknowledgment. “I acted childishly.”

“Oh? To what are you referring?”

“It’s hazy,” Kagami bit her lip and fiddled with the edge of her snack plate. “But I rudely burst into your rooms and acted unbecomingly. I want to apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

“You were very expressive,” Marinette grinned. “It was very cute.”

Kagami huffed in her seat, fiddling with her long braid with rosy cheeks. “Please don’t say it like that.”

“What? You said it was your first time drinking. I was very honored to experience a new side to you.”

“I told you that?” Kagami grumbled lowly, head tucked. She timidly glanced upwards. “What else did I say?”

Marinette pretended to ponder, filling the space by reaching for snacks and sipping her drink. “It’s not so much what you said but what you did.”

Marinette glanced at Kagami and she stared resolutely at Marinette as if missing any micro movement would place her life in jeopardy. Marinette stuttered in her teasing. She thought Kagami would be embarrassing but was she perhaps…curious about Marinette’s reaction?

“U-um…” Marinette stuttered and stirred too much sugar into her tea. She didn’t flinch even as the overwhelming sweetness hit her lips. “You did say you enjoyed my company. Nothing else.”

“Mm, I do,” Kagami said simply. Then she sighed. “I invaded your space and acted brazenly. I suppose I’m starved of affection,” giving a self-deprecating chuckle.

It was a heartbreaking sound. “No—no! I was happy you felt close enough to come to me. In fact, I’d—well I’d…” Marinette gulped a breath, realizing she was placing a blade over her head. “I wish you’d be open with me more often. I didn’t know if you’d welcome such affection.”

“You’re alright with…? Rather you wish we were more affectionate?”

It was Marinette’s turn to clear her throat. “I’ve always held hands and hugged my close friends. I assumed Kagami only made the rare exception to humor me, so I distanced myself.”

“Well. I will admit you are my exception.”

Marinette’s face burst red. Then Kagami stood and moved her chair so it was inches from Marinette's. She looked up confused and when Kagami sat she offered her hand face-up, her expression calm.

“Is this alright?”

Marinette covered her mouth with one hand, unsure how her face betrayed her, but placed the other within Kagami’s. Kagami entwined them in a strong grip that tingled up Marinette’s arm.

Kagami’s face bloomed into a soft smile and she relaxed deep into her seat as if a weight left her shoulders. Marinette could not sip or eat the rest of the afternoon, feeling she had consumed too much sweetness for the day.

——

#marigami #ML #Kagami Tsurugi #marinette dupen chang #drabble #storytime

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pub-lius · 3 years

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Can you tell me about James Madison?

Of course! I can talk about Jemmy Mads all day my guy.

So I will be talking mainly about who he was as a person instead of the timeline of his life, since I'll be discussing that more in depth later on. If you're looking more for that, I'd recommend these sources: The Three Lives of James Madison by Noah Feldman or Montpelier's library of information . If anyone else has recommendations or extra information, feel free to add it. Keep in mind, I present my theories based off extensive research as fact, but they could potentially be disproven. I'll do my best to include sources for my claims, but most of them are from the novel shown above.

James Madison was a relatively small man, around 5'4" (162.56 cm). If you hear anything about him being less than 110 pounds (~49.9 kg), that’s not true. He was not THAT underweight. He wore his brown hair pulled back into a queue and powdered white, even when that was highly out of fashion. It was rare to see him wearing any color but black, and he usually looked bored or perturbed. He wasn’t very social, like at all. At his inaugural ball, he is quoted as saying that although he was staying at the event longer, “I would much rather be in bed.”

James was born James Madison Jr. on March 16, 1751, the eldest of twelve children. In the 18th century, this meant that he was expected to maintain the family name in both contemporary society as well as posterity. Consequently, James was given an extensive education. He was educated at local schools until he went to college at the College of New Jersey, now Princeton.

James' college experience was unique for two reasons. The first was that he didn't attend William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia, because of his health. It was believed that the humid air of Virginia would do damage to James' fragile health. Also, at Princeton, he was exposed to a much more liberal education than what was expected from William and Mary. Princeton was a Presbyterian university, and as Madison was Anglican (attending the Church of England), he was surrounded by new, different opinions on religion as well as politics.

Fast forward a bunch of time and we find Jemmy in Philadelphia. He was staying in Philadelphia with his new friend, Thomas Jefferson, and was just starting his career in the Confederation Congress (everyone’s favorite group of guys). Jefferson and Madison were staying with the ICONIC Mrs. House, and while they were there, Madison met a young lady named Catherine Floyd, also called Kitty. Jefferson noticed that James kinda liked her, so he started to basically play matchmaker. Well, Jefferson eventually left, and let’s just say, it didn’t work out between James and Kitty.

Something happened between Madison and Floyd during a gap of time during the summer of 1783. Then, in August, Madison wrote a really dejected, barely legible letter to Jefferson telling him that he got dumped by a sixteen year old. Later, Madison would cross out some of the lines.

“At the date of my letter in April I expected to have had the pleasure by this time of being with you in Virginia. My disappointment has proceeded from several dilatory circumstances on which I had not calculated. [this following part is crossed out] One of them was the uncertain state into which the object I was then pursuing had been brought by one of those incidents to which such affairs are liable... It would be improper by this communication to send particular explanations, and perhaps needless to trouble you with them at any time.”

Jefferson’s response is also important to note, as I believe it says much about their relationship.

“I sincerely lament the misadventure which has happened, from whatever cause it may have happened... Should it be final however, the world still presents the same and many other resources of happiness, and you possess many within yourself... Firmness of mind and unintermitting occupations will not long leave you in pain... No event has been more contrary to my expectations, and these were founded on what I thought a good knowledge of the ground... But of all machines ours is the most complicated and inexplicable.”

The reason I include these excerpts is because I find they are at least partially representative of how James was affected by this rejection, the way he and Jefferson interacted, and how he thought about relationships.

First, theres how he was affected. In Madison’s future behavior, he seems to care a good deal about his friends’ political perspectives, especially Jefferson’s. For example, when Hamilton was proposing his national bank and Jefferson was opposing it, Madison sided with his closer friend, Jefferson, and opposed the national bank. When Madison was president and less under Jefferson’s influence, he supported the national bank. This is a pattern I noticed, especially between him and Jefferson, but there are several exceptions in which Madison actively voices opposition to Jefferson’s opinions.

Secondly, about how he and Jefferson’s relationship. I will go a bit more in-depth on Jefferson’s part in this in his own post, but this mainly centers around my theory that Jefferson had a narcissistic personality, at the least, (disregard for others’ feelings, unemotional traits, need for admiration, etc). Madison, on the other hand, always wanted to appease those he admired, especially Jefferson, who, for the first part of their relationship, he viewed as a mentor. This created a bit of a one-sided dynamic in their friendship at times. (That isn’t to say their friendship was toxic or ingenuine. They both clearly cared a lot for each other.)

This seems to apply to several other relationships of Madison’s, such as Alexander Hamilton and Edmund Randolph. With both of these men, James disagreed with them politically, but justified their friendship with his maxim that, “friends don’t have to agree on politics!” Well, neither of them remained friends, and though I believe Jefferson played a role in the outcomes of both those situations, I also believe that ended as it did because of the way both parties viewed the concept of friendship.

In conclusion, James Madison was a studious, broad thinking man who valued friendship greatly, often prioritizing his friends’ opinions. There are many other interesting things about him, and I will try to cover as many as possible. I think its important for people to know more about Madison as he played several key roles in the founding of the United States. His politics and philosophies could be thought provoking, and his life experiences may be relatable to some, two things I believe are valuable. Feel free to ask further questions that I didn’t answer!

#james madison

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1strongindependentcatwoman1 · 4 years

Text

Since it’s basically 2014 tumblr again, in the year of our lord 2020, I have a few thoughts about Supernatural that I need to just get out of my head.

Before I start my rant, I want to say that I haven’t kept up with supernatural for some time but I watch it from time to time. And I did watch the Destiel scene that has now sent us back to the dark times. So, what this post is not going to to is harass the actors, especially Jensen, for doing their jobs. And I am going to call out how the writers are actually the homophobic ones because Hollywood can’t write gay characters for shit without killing them off.

We have to remember that the actors are actual people with feelings and are perfectly valid in not wanting to answer certain questions at con’s. Especially from people that have threatened to harm their families. They are not there for you to harass and demand answers from. They are just doing their jobs. They don’t owe you anything.

Without further stalling let’s begin:

My thoughts on Destiel:

1. The fandom: the supernatural fandom has been a complicated one since 2010. I feel like many of the fandom has projected themselves onto the characters without regards to what the characters might be feeling and thinking based on how they are written.

2. Hollywood writers: the writers of supernatural have been there for at least 10-15 years. Characters change as they are being written. That being said, most Hollywood writers are straight white men and don’t know how to write a good LGBTQ+ story line in a show that was primarily aimed at a male audience and was adopted by a young female audience. Writers tend to use gays for one trope, the “bury the gays” trope in which one character confesses their love for a same sex character and then dies. Or the only character to die in a show is gay. This has become a clique. The fandom is tied down with Destiel becoming cannon that that accept this as an outcome and don’t demand better writing from the show. They just accept it because the got a small taste. Destiel is not full Canon, it’s only half Canon. Absolutely not, writers. Do better.

3. Cas: though I haven’t kept up with the show, I know that characters go through a lot of inner conflict and change throughout the series. Cas in this episode used his love for Dean to save him. His goal has always been to save Dean, even at the expense of himself. He knows that Dean might not feel the same about him, but he tells him he loves him anyways because it will save him and that makes Cas happy. Knowing Dean is going to be alright was enough.

4. Cas as a reflection on unrequited love: something many young viewers of supernatural in the LGBTQ+ community might not take away from this scene is that in life, confessing your feelings for a person might not work out with a relationship. Especially if someone of the same sex is straight. This is a real thing that happens to people in the LGBTQ+ community and I personally felt it when watching his scene because I understand what both Cas and Dean were feeling at this moment in time.

5. Cas’s love language: cas’s love language is reassurance. He uses words of encouragement and care to Dean to show his affections. “Your more than what our enemies see.” “Your more than ‘daddy’s blunt instrument” “everything you do is out of love” “you are loved”. He gives Dean something he’s never gotten before, reassurance that he’s a good person and what he’s doing is for good.

6. Dean’s reaction to Cas: I think Dean’s reaction to Cas is justified because he has absolutely no time to process the information that he is given. Dean has never thought he could be loved by anyone in the way that Cas loved him. And the fact that Cas immediately dies after confessing his love just leaves Dean more confused and in an emotional mess. Imagine your best friend gives you a death bed confession of love to you and then fucks off and dies. The questions that are going through this man’s head. He was just told he’s more than a weapon, more than a solider. That he deserves to love and be loved back. If Dean doesn’t go through a mental breakdown in the next two episodes, I would honestly be shocked. He’s losing everyone and he doesn’t know how to cope. Someone help this man.

7. The fandom’s complete disregard for Dean’s feelings: once again the fandom accepts the scraps of gay writing that we are given and have no love for characters going through trauma because they are ✨projecting✨. Dean is not homophobic, he’s confused and traumatized. If I see another bitch say that again, their gonna see these hands.

8. Dean’s love language: dean’s love language is acts. He saves people out of love. He raised sam out of love. He cares for his family out of love. He has already shown Cas that he loves him without having to say it out loud. And I think Cas understands that and that’s why he didn’t wait for Dean to respond. Love doesn’t have to be spoken aloud. It might not be romantic love that Dean has for Cas but it’s love none the less.

AND THIS TOXIC FANDOM DOESNT GET IT BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL YOUNG AND DONT KNOW WHAT REAL LOVE IS YET. ESPECIALLY YOUNG LGBTQ+ VIEWERS THAT ARE BLAMING THE CAST FOR THE TERRIBLE GAY WRITING! DO FUCKING BETTER. DEAN/JENSEN IS NOT HOMOPHOBIC. BUT THE FUCKING WRITERS MIGHT BE.

#supernatural #destiel #jensen ackles #misha collins #hollywoodstopkillingthegays #the writers are cowards #lqbtqia #rant

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for-ests · 4 years

Text

Love It If We Made It: Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Part 2)

Part 1 [ mlist ]

word count: 4,770

summary: After seeing Oikawa again, you agree to show up to one of his matches. How can you make him feel better after a devastating loss?

Tooru 💕: hey pretty lady, come watch me play tomorrow 🥴

Y/N-chan🦋: send me the addy and I'll be there :-)

That promise you kept. Though you were loaded with hundred of responsibilities, you managed to carve time out of your day to attend Oikawa's prelims.

The introvert in you begged to have someone attend with you, but the extrovert knew it was better if you gained the courage to go by yourself. Nobody else would understand how important it was to you and to him. And frankly, you didn't want to explain your relationship with the handsome setter.

Just thinking about Oikawa made you blush. Thinking about how important he had been to you, the things you went through, every smile, every hug- even the one kiss. Your first kiss.

Though you hadn't seen the boy in years, his presence had never left.

In a way you couldn't describe, his soul had shaped yours. Even if it sounded rash coming from someone so young and naive, you felt that you had met your other half.

You needed him, and you had been missing him for far too long.

The thought caused your throat to tighten. How could you ever gain the courage to tell him that? Someone who had always been so outspoken, so kind, so gentle.

Admitting your feelings at this time could ruin everything. You felt like you had missed your chance.

And sadly, you knew Oikawa had problems too. He was just excellent at hiding them. Hiding behind the persona he had built up ever since he had joined the volleyball club in sixth grade.

You were just happy to see him again. Right now, that was all you wanted to think about. He was by your side again, in the little ways he could.

So you had to return the favor. Though you had no other business attending a high school volleyball game that wasn't your own, you waltzed into the gym, standing off to the side by the railing in front of the student section.

Stay calm. You repeated, feeling the eyes of hundreds of students on your back. Having someone by your side would have been the right cure. Perhaps it was a brainless move to wear your Karasuno volleyball club zip up sweatshirt.

No. You squeezed your eyes shut. Be confident. Do it for Oikawa if not for you.

Before you could sulk further, the doors on the opposite side of the gym flung open, and as per usual, Aoba Johsai waltzed in with nervous smiles upon their faces, and others with stone cold glares.

Knowing Oikawa, most people would expect a smile be placed upon his face—but you knew better. His confidence only reached so far. He was a nervous wreck.

Oikawa walked beside Iwaizumi, silent.

You heard anxious squeals from the top stands on your right, and you managed to refrain from rolling your eyes. Of course his creepy fan girls came. Why would you expect anything less? If only it made sense for people to come because they loved watching the sport, and not because they had a crush on a senior boy that didn't even know their names.

Wow. You bit your lip. Why were you so angry?

Suddenly flustered, you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck to relieve some tension.

Your movements caught Oikawa's eyes from above. He lifted his head, finally noticing your arrival.

His permanent frown vanished at the sight of you.

"Hi!" You waved, hoping your interaction wouldn't draw too much attention. But everything involving Oikawa drew attention.

Staring into his deep brown eyes was a blessing. Nobody had ever made you feel so whole, so appreciated and loved.

He seemed to acknowledge your discomfort, and again, like the old days, he tried everything he could to make you feel relaxed again.

"Y/N-Chan!" He seemed to sing, disregarding all the other people in the stands cheering his name, trying desperately to gain his attention.

Not knowing how to react, you put your hands together and shaped a heart. That was all you needed to do to show Oikawa how much you cared, and how much you missed him.

The brunette's eyes widened, and despite all the pressure that was weighing down on his shoulders, he formed one in return.

You couldn't stop your cheeks from darkening. The instant chemistry that flowed between the two of you was overwhelming, yet somehow comforting.

His commanding gaze caused all your worries to fall back into the deeper parts of your mind. For a moment, you had forgotten about them. Your sadness seemed irrelevant.

"I'll see you after." He mouthed, turning back to his team.

That made you incredibly nervous. How were you going to explain everything that happened to you? Would he see you as someone completely different?

Your jaw clenched. What if he didn't feel the same?

One look his way and all your hidden, childish, and embarrassing feelings for him came flooding back.

Taking a deep breath to silence your anxious and somewhat pessimistic thoughts, you gained the courage to glance behind you and look for a seat. There were hundreds of high-schoolers present, many of them who seemed to be shooting you dirty looks-- especially the girls who were cheering Oikawa's name earlier.

Yeah... you definitely should have made one of your friends come with you.

As you were scanning the crowd, you noticed there were other schools present, which were sporting their own school's names. It made you remember how important this game was, the prelims were nothing to be taken lightly.

Feeling as if you were searching for too long, you turned back and decided to stay by the railing. There were countless others doing the same, so you didn't feel too awkward standing beside them.

That was until you heard a husky voice from behind.

"Oh? Karasuno?" It chuckled loudly. You turned, surprised to find a group of high school boys that seemed strikingly familiar.

"Oh!" You blushed, realizing their gazes had been on you since your bold interaction with Oikawa. "Hi again..."

Your eyes widened slightly, as you had forgotten their names. But you remembered them from the joint training camp that Karasuno had been invited to by Nekoma. The other boy was from Fukurodani... you felt bad for not remembering their names- but so much had happened since then.

"You're Karasuno's manager right?" The dark haired one of the duo asked flirtatiously. "Was it L/N?"

Swaying back and forth on your feet, you nodded. "Yeah, but you guys can call me Y/N, that's fine."

Noticing your discomfort of attending the match alone, the Nekoma boy patted the spot next to him. "Come sit by us, Oikawa's girlfriend, don't be shy." You grinned graciously, trying to hide the blush that appeared on your face by his nickname.

"What was your name again? Was it Kuroo?"

"Correct." He gave you a two thumbs up.

You peered past Kuroo, at the Fukurodani boy with white streaks in his hair. "I'm sorry..." You glanced away timidly. "I forgot your name."

"I'm hurt!" He feigned defeat, slumping against his friend in mock anguish, as if his heat had been pierced with cupid's arrow.

Rolling his eyes, Kuroo leaned over and whispered in your ear. "That's Bokuto."

Playing along, you reached over to pat Bokuto's shoulder. "Oh! How could I forget? It's Bokuto."

"Hey hey hey!" He lifted his head, grinning from ear to ear. "I knew the prettiest girl here would remember my legendary name."

You and Kuroo laughed loudly, noticing a couple odd stares had been directed your way. Biting your lip, you shifted your posture and faced the boys directly, trying to dispel your introvertedness whenever strangers paid you attention.

You were trying your best to remain confident. You used to be so confident. Whenever Oikawa was around, you were at your best.

You just didn't want your joyful childhood memories to fade away once you realized that things with Oikawa could never be the same.

Kuroo though, had to ask questions. It wasn't in his nature to ignore something so evident. You were incredibly shy, while Oikawa was incredibly rambunctious.

"So, Y/N..."

Furrowing his eyebrows, he tried to piece together the pairing. How would that even happen? You were the Karasuno volleyball manager and he was the long-running Aoba Johsai captain. It's not like you were physically close.

One look at you and Kuroo knew you were way too pretty to be just a fan girl to him.

"Did you come to watch Oikawa?"

Preparing yourself for that exact question, you answered quickly. "Yes, Tooru and Hajime both invited me."

Noting the lack of informality, Kuroo pressed further. Though you were shy, you seemed laid back enough to let him call you by your first name after the second time meeting. From the moment he had met you, it was easy to see why everyone was fond of your charming, innocent and careful personality.

"How do you know them?"

Smiling, you laid your hands in your lap. "We used to go to the same middle school. I've known them for years."

Bokuto was practically drooling over the softness of your voice. Timid, yet forthcoming. Kuroo nudged him in the ribs, unbeknownst to you.

"Why haven't we seen more of you then? Especially at his games." Kuroo asked, his eyes flickering down to the side of the court where Oikawa was practicing his serves.

You knew the captain was trying to be friendly, so you let him pry for more information.

Trying to relax, you chucked quietly. "It's complicated. I moved a couple years ago and haven't seen him a lot since then."

"That makes sense, since you're at different schools."

The brief sadness that filled your eyes was enough to communicate to the boys that you wouldn't touch more on the subject.

What had happened between you and Oikawa was common. Most high schoolers could relate. Life was a roller-coaster that threw you into loop after loop.

"I would have texted you every day." Bokuto boasted, trying to cheer you up.

"That's why you don't have a girlfriend you clingy bastard." Kuroo shoved him playfully.

You managed to giggle, genuinely. "Thanks." You stuck your tongue out at Bokuto. He turned his head away and blushed.

Changing the topic, Kuroo asked gently. "Anyways, are you going to manage Karasuno next semester?"

He was great at holding conversation. Meanwhile, Bokuto's attention kept averting elsewhere, practically to everything else happening around you.

"I plan to. Especially since the upset yesterday. I can't leave my boys hanging like that."

They need me. But I need them more.

"Ah, yes. I bet that was hard for you."

"How are my pupils doing?" Bokuto reentered the conversation at the presumed mention of Hinata and Tsukishima.

Your nose crinkled as you giggled. "Could be better, but they'll get over it. Don't tell them I said that."

"It might slip out of his big fat mouth." Kuroo rolled his eyes.

Opening your mouth to retort a sarcastic comment, you were interrupted by the referee's whistle, signaling that the match was about to formally commence.

Oikawa. Your mind practically screamed. Please win, Oikawa.

Turning back to Kuroo and Bokuto, you winked teasingly. "Well even if they are your pupils, don't underestimate Karasuno. We're gonna beat your ass next time."

Kuroo grinned. "I can't wait."

Bokuto gave you a thumbs up, not completely understanding your perceived yet comical threat.

And that was when the second whistle blew, granting Oikawa permission to start the match with his infamous serve.

You held your breath, mentally crossing your fingers as he threw the ball high into the air.

His posture was perfected. His eyes focused. And as he jumped, his disheveled hair flew graciously with the breeze.

"OoooooooOooO-LAY!"

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Awkward.

That was the mood that settled between you and Oikawa as you buckled up in his passenger seat.

He didn't say a word.

You didn't say a word.

You knew he had planned out the rest of his day trying to make you happy, but since he had lost the most important match of his Highschool volleyball career— all that lingered in his expression was anger.

It pained you to see him so distraught, and for once, you couldn't find anything to say.

There was probably nothing that could fill the silence to distract him.

Oikawa rested his hands on the wheel, taking a deep breath. It seemed that he didn't want to drive. It seemed that he didn't want to do anything but lay down and cry.

"Let me drive." You offered, glancing at him through the corner of your eye.

The boy paused, keys dangling from the ignition at his movements.

"No." Oikawa exhaled harshly. His cheeks were still red, and so were the palms of his hands. Trailing your eyes across his body, you saw bruising forming along his forearms.

He was about to lose it. The boy who never showed his true emotions, the one who put everyone and everything above himself—was about to lose it.

Unbuckling your seat-belt, you shot him an indisputable glare. "Tooru, I'm driving."

"Okay." His voice cracked.

The two of you exited the vehicle, him rounding the back and heading towards the passenger without another sound.

You swallowed hard, glancing around at all the other boys climbing into their cars. Disappointment lingered in the air, like the many times it had before. But this time, it was harsh. It wasn't mindful. This time it didn't promise another chance.

Oikawa slammed the car door shut, snapping you out of your trance.

"Y/N." A voice called from afar.

Turning, you locked eyes with Iwaizumi. His were full of tears. He must be thinking the same thing as Oikawa— all the third years were. They may never make it to nationals.

"Take care of him."

Like you always had.

Setting your hand on the door handle, you gave him a confident nod. "I will."

You lingered on Iwaizumi for a moment, shooting him an equally concerned expression. "Will you be alright?"

He nodded. And that was enough for you. He would be okay, but Oikawa wouldn't. The third year captain needed something only you could give him.

Hopping back into the car, you turned the keys for the second time, properly starting the car. As you adjusted the seat and the mirrors, you wondered if you should just drive to a park and let him sort through his emotions.

His parents were probably worried about him, but they knew you were with him. Oikawa-San was probably already preparing a recovery meal for her beloved son. You didn't even need to ask Oikawa to know that he didn't want to go home and face his parents yet.

It may not be a big deal to most, but to Oikawa, volleyball was his entire world.

Taking matters into your own hands, you backed out of the parking space and sped out of the parking lot. The first step to making him feel better was to get out of that godforsaken gym--one that had let him down one too many times.

There was a park that you wanted to take him to, one that you had found years ago and immediately thought he would like. It had a great view, and it was secluded. It was one that you had gone to many times before.

Plus, you didn't know the way to his house from the gym, and were too shy to directly ask. If he wanted to go home that badly, Oikawa would have expressed that.

"You know you can cry, right?" You finally spoke once you were driving down a straight, growing tired of the silence.

"I can't cry in front of you."

You sighed. "I'm your friend, though."

"You're more than that." The confession slipped past him before he had the time to process it.

Briefly taking your eyes off the road, they flickered to him. There were definite tears glossing over Oikawa's chocolate brown irises, ones that were always so full of life and mischief.

Though indirect, his confirmation about his feelings for you was enough to make your heart beat faster. Was he serious? Or was he trying to distract himself?

"Then that gives you more of a reason to cry in front of me." You said as softly as you could to prevent your voice from shaking.

The truth was something you weren't ready to face head on. The truth was that you didn't know Oikawa anymore—and he didn't know you. Seeing him again had unfortunately sparked that hope.

"Not right now. Not like this." Oikawa confessed, his teeth taking over his bottom lip in an attempt to silence his impulsive thoughts.

Knowing he had just lost in front of you, in front of everyone, for the last time, one of his last games in his High School career— was almost too much to process.

You knew that's what he was thinking.

Your entire being was contradicting your rational thoughts. How was he so easy to predict after all these years?

It had been almost four years since you had last seen him. Four years and you were still not over your crush.

You shook your head immediately. "I know you're afraid of losing, but you already did that, so now there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Wow." He finally choked out a laugh. "Harsh."

Shrugging, your eyes grazed the landscape in front of you. The cityscape was fading away—transforming into something much more familiar, something much more beautiful. A national park that had dozens of hiking trails, one of which led to your favorite thinking spot. One that you wanted to share with Oikawa in his tender moment.

"I've lost so much. Sometimes it's better that way." Your voice came out in a soft whisper. Whenever you reflected on the past, you were unable to remain strong.

Your words sounded so powerful in your mind, but speaking them into existence was an incredibly difficult process.

You just knew you didn't want to pretend to be strong anymore. You were hurting. Though it had been months, you were still not over it.

Oikawa's eyes were wide as you glanced quickly towards him. "Feel the pain. Don't push it away, or else it will come creeping back when you least expect it."

Though he tried to fight against it, the boy was becoming vulnerable with you by his side. He just felt that he could trust you. He always had.

Even so, he couldn't deny that what you were admitting was concerning.

"It seems we're aren't talking about the same thing, Y/N."

The car came to a stop, parked perfectly even between the white lines. Both of you stared forward, appreciating the mystifying view.

"Come with me." You smiled, ignoring his previous statement by exiting the vehicle and slamming the door shut. Once Oikawa followed suit and walked to your side, you tossed him back his keys.

It was comforting to see that for a moment, his eyes were clear. And when you intertwined your fingers with his, he flashed you a tenderhearted smile. One that you had craved to see again for years. For so long that eventually, you had pushed his memory aside.

You still couldn't believe Oikawa was back in your life. And hopefully, this time he would stay.

"Where are we?" He asked, squeezing your hand gently for reassurance. As he peered into the distance, he realized that the forest line seemed to disappear. And beyond it was nothing but the sky.

"At my spot." You admitted sheepishly.

"To do what?" He teased, trying to pry for more information about your life. "To smoke?"

Rolling your eyes, you pulled him over the curb onto the grass field. "To think, dumbass."

"Oh yeah." He admitted matter-of-factly. "My bad for not knowing that this was your spot. In the middle of nowhere."

You and Oikawa crossed the threshold from field to forest coverage, the landmark sign clear in your vision. It wasn't often you came to gaze at the ocean, but when you did—you were always comforted.

No matter what season, no matter what weather. You came here to realize that your problems were small in the grand scheme of life, even if they seemed tremendous in that moment.

Which was exactly what was happening to Oikawa right now. Gazing for miles into the horizon might not have the same affect on him, but it was worth a try.

"Just listen." You encouraged, smiling at the distance sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shoreline rocks. Birds chirped faintly in the forest canopy, the wind rustling through the leaves.

But strangely, your heartbeat was the loudest.

"I am." His grip slackened as the two of you finally came to the edge of the cliff, your free hand gripping the wooden fence barrier.

The view was breathtaking—especially in that moment. The sun was just beginning to tuck behind the horizon, casting an orange shade across the sky.

For Oikawa, the view was just as beautiful, but all he really cared about was being there with you. He could do without the fancy entourage if it meant finally being able to have your heart.

"I hear it." The boy spoke after a few minutes of silence.

"Hear what?" You turned, his voice barely audible through the relentless breeze. One that chilled your bones, but one that was constantly refreshing.

"I hear nature telling me I would be a fool to let you go for the second time."

Cracking a genuine smile, you shook your head lightly. "That was cheesy."

"Yet bringing me here wasn't?" He tugged you closer, realizing that he'd been holding your hand this entire time. Even though he was sporting his warm up jacket, the wind caused him to shiver.

Stopping yourself from completely falling against him, you placed your hand on his chest. Faltering at the intimate contact, you tilted your head to the side, far too flustered to look him in the eyes. "Cheesy or not, you like it."

"Maybe." Oikawa breathed, staring down at you with wonder. The years he had spent away from you had transformed you into a stunning young lady. "It's definitely taking my mind off my failure."

"Failure brings better opportunities."

"Not for me." His voice was low.

"Think about your future, Tooru." Your hand fell away even if it yearned for his contact, for his warmth. He was vulnerable in this moment and you couldn't take advantage of it.

Surprised by your slight rejection, Oikawa stepped even closer. "I am, Y/N. I think about it everyday, but ever since I saw you again, I can't see another day without you."

"Don't say things like that so casually." Your cheeks were red, and there was a sheepish smile upon your lips, but you couldn't look him in the eyes.

Oikawa gripped your hand again, running his thumb over your palm in a reassuring manner. "You know I would never say something like that if I didn't mean it."

He meant it. He meant it with every fiber in his pathetic being. Why was he being so rash? How could a girl like you ever fall for him? Yes, he knew he was conventionally attractive--but he didn't have much else going for him besides his volleyball career. Yet, even that seemed to be ending prematurely.

"I know." You lip quivered, causing Oikawa to focus in on your anguished expression. Were you going to reject him? That idea caused his heart to sink. He had been rejected a couple of times in his life, but they had never made him feel this way. The boy had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted you.

That wish had remained constant for years.

"Then why won't you let me in?" Oikawa moved his hands to gently cup your cheeks, using his thumb to run across your soft and inviting complexion. One that never failed to take his breath away.

As if on instinct, you tilted your head at the motion, practically nudging his calloused hand in a blissful response.

"Tooru..." His name left your lips gracefully, mystifying, like the sound of a violin cord that had just been strummed.

A brief moment of tranquility, one that had revealed your true emotions, was enough to send Oikawa's thoughts spinning. You weren't rejecting him, all you wanted was to take your time. You wanted him to be ready... and you wanted to be ready yourself.

Despite that, Oikawa was finding it hard to keep him composure. Though you hardly made a move, hardly said a thing, you were stunning in his eyes. Everything about you was perfect to him. It had always been, but back then he was too naive to realize the beauty of his friendship with you. The both of you had realized your feelings at the worst time possible. And it seemed that fate was going to repeat the same cycle, causing Oikawa to possibly lose you again.

He was more mature now. And so were you. It had to be right. He had to be with you.

How could Oikawa convey such a thing? No matter what words his brain formulated, they all seemed to fall short.

"You look beautiful right now, Y/N. I mean it."

At the compliment, you bit your lip- eyes immediately glossing over.

Your looks were a blessing and a curse, beautiful you were, but also different. At first glance, he was blinded by your attractiveness, but when he searched deeper into your eyes, there was an unfamiliar melancholy that lingered. The boy could not seem to put his finger on it though— but he was smart enough to notice that something traumatic had taken place.

You were not innocent anymore. And neither was he.

"I can see that the attention has its effects on you." Oikawa observed, knowing that when he had been close to you, attention pointed your way had always caused embarrassment. But nothing to this extent. In many ways, you were the same girl, but in other ways, were incredibly different—with things he never thought would change.

"Looks like we are one in the same." You indirectly referred to his continuous stream of fan girls. Ones that he seemed to be incredibly annoyed of, when other boys his age would relish in the affection.

"No...not at all." He whispered, tracing his finger across your cheek until he gathered enough strands of hair to tuck gently behind your ear. He didn't know how to convince you that he only had eyes for you. Despite the overwhelming attention he received from other girls, he needed to show you that none of that mattered.

Now that you had made him feel better, all he could do was return the favor.

"What happened to you?" Oikawa's words were delicate, tone soft and forthcoming. He had never been as gentle before as he had in that moment.

Seconds passed but all you did was gaze into his eyes. Your history was too much to unload in one sitting. All you wanted to do was enjoy his presence, now that he had come to terms with his volleyball career. "A lot of things." Your vagueness prompted his nose to crinkle with annoyance.

Suddenly, a gust of wind hurdled over the cliff, causing your hair to blow over your shoulders and around the both of your faces. Eventually your strands settled back into place, framing the lines of your features.

A gleeful snicker followed shortly after, causing Oikawa to smile. "I want to hear about them all." He admitted.

Did he actually mean that? You faltered, suddenly feeling self conscious under his intense gaze. Knowing you could no longer peddle backwards after his decipherable confession, you gripped his jacket, bunching the fabric into a fist.

The force caused Oikawa to stumble, his hand shooting out to grab the guardrail. Eventually, his hands found their place against your hips, inviting you closer, soothing your worries through one simplistic action.

"Kiss me, Tooru. Kiss me again like you did in eight grade when neither of us had anything to worry about."

And this time, Oikawa could not hold himself back.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Tag list!

@ardorwrites-hq-mha @cuddlyasahi @vventure @writeiolite @allywritesimagines @benewol @lordeofthunder @haikoo @caxsthetic @evermorehaikyuu @alluring-akaashi @infamouswhitepawsies @theshirleygamer

#haikyuuwritersnet #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tōru #oikawa fluff

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marcelrigby-blog · 4 years

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Investing in a Digital Camera? Avoid an error With 7 Insider Points

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sunsiac · 5 years

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Fantasy [DangerousFellows]

pairing: zion x reader

game: DangerousFellows (#DFel_creation)

word count: 3.7k

basic summary: i got to the normal ending first, but after completing zion’s ending, i was pretty heartbroken that the rest of the guys didn't make it out. but, then i discovered that there was this contest, and i figured it would be the perfect opportunity to give everyone their happy ending. [chapter 25 x Zion’s ending] also,, it was actually so hard to morph these two?? like wow, It was actually really complicated at some points.

note: this is a oneshot for the #DFel_creation contest, and doesn’t have anything to do with my usual feed. requests will be back after this is uploaded. this also follows most of the 25th chapter, with my own written parts scattered in.

“I think we’re all set,”

After arguing about the possibilities of the safe zone for quite a while, we had finally seemed to come to an agreement. I could tell that everyone was eager for this opportunity, for the chance of surviving. And I mean, so was I. The image of going back to living a normal life with everyone seemed like a fantasy, but I knew I couldn't get too far ahead of myself.

There was still the chance of running into zombies on our way there. Plus, I still couldn’t help but be suspicious of Lawrence. What Sue had said to me still stuck sharply in my mind, and everything Lawrence had since done to try to convince us to stay wasn’t helping his case much, either.

Harry nodded, agreeing with Lawrence. “Uh-huh. Good job, you guys,”

What Harry had said brought my attention back to everyone else. They all looked relieved, and I was glad that at least everyone else didn’t have any worries putting them down.

“Let’s all set out before sunrise,” Lawrence suggested. “How about we all spend the night in the auditorium?”

I didn’t see why not.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Eugene nodded, voicing my thoughts before I could.

Hailey still seemed slightly nervous about everything, though, not giving more than a soft agreement.

Soon, Zion finished everyone’s side conversations with a muffled clap, getting the room’s attention. “Then let’s wrap up and go. We need to get some sleep before the big day tomorrow,”

Lawrence picked up the map we’d been huddled around from the table in front of him and folded it into a small rectangle, sticking it in his pocket. I couldn’t make out his expression, but it still sent a weird feeling to my gut, nonetheless.

Ah, I seriously don’t know what to do.

My thoughts were racing until I felt a hand land softly on my shoulder. Then my attention was brought to Zion, who was looking down at me, slightly concerned.

“Worried about tomorrow, ___?”

I shook my head, disregarding his question with a faint smile as I lied, “I’m fine,”

He obviously didn’t believe me, but he didn’t try to push any further.

“Just get packing then, and don’t bother yourself too much.” He told me, picking up on my uncertainty anyway as he added faintly, “I’ll be beside you the whole night,”

I gave him a grateful smile.

As we stood there, everyone else took Lawrence's action as a sign to get moving, each person leaving to go to their individual rooms to pack up their stuff. And I was moving to leave as well after Zion had bid me goodbye, until I noticed that Lawrence still hadn’t moved from his spot by the table.

Even amidst everything, I still felt sort of bad for Lawrence. I was sticking all of my suspicions on him when I didn’t even know if he had anything to with the disappearances for sure in the first place. Maybe Sue had been wrong. Maybe he has his own reasons for not wanting to go to the safe zone.

“I want you to know, that if something happens to me, it has something to do with Lawrence.”

I bit my lip.

“Lawrence?” I piped up quietly before I could decide against it. His attention turned towards me, and his eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn't realised I was still there.

“Oh, ___” He smiled softly and let out a faint sigh. “Is something wrong?”

I won’t ever know what to believe unless I try to find out for myself.

“Do you think we’ll all make it to the safe zone?” I asked quietly, watching his eyes soften. I asked this partly because I was still worried about it, but also because I wanted to see his reaction to it.

“I think so,” He gave me a tight smile, as if he was holding something back. “Why? Are you scared?”

“No, It’s just,” I shook my head, avoiding his eyes as I said, “I wanna be with everyone in the end, you know?”

He gave me a small smile, warmth flooding his eyes as he nodded. “I know. Hopefully, we will be,”

It must have hurt to lie to me like that.

Everyone was busy packing their things. We divide up the food in the storage, and place the finishing touches on our belongings that we’re taking with us. Although no one’s sure of anything, we’re still a little excited about moving to a new place.

“Is everybody all packed up?”

Lawrence asked this as he stands in front of everyone, getting simultaneous nods.

“There’s nothing much to pack, really-” Eugene shrugs.

“I’m finished but it feels like I forgot something,”

“I’m sure you have everything you need, Hailey,” Lawrence smiles at Hailey, then he turns to me and his eyes meet with mine.

“Are you good to go?” He asked.

I smile faintly. We haven’t talked nearly this much since the day we were out. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way he struck the man to death-

But, maybe that was just an accident. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Even if I can’t justify my suspicion towards him, everyone makes mistakes.

Only when he started to say something again did I realise that I never answered.

“___, do you need more time to pack or something?”

“...No, I’m good. All packed,”

He smiled. “I knew you were all set. Let me know if you need any help,”

“Okay, thanks,” I nodded.

He turns around and then walks away, sending a chill down my spine. It made me uncomfortable seeing him walk out like that. But, I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch him disappear. As for now, I didn’t have much to do otherwise. So, I decided to try and talk to Zion.

“___!”

Zion catches me off guard by calling my name first. How did he know I wanted to talk to him?

“Are you all ready for tomorrow?”

I smiled and nodded. “Yup, I’m all set. You?”

“I finished packing way before you did. I just really hope that there’s enough food in the safe zone, though,”

I couldn’t help a small sigh. “I’m not really counting on that, but I’m sure whatever they have there is much better than what we have here. The food, the place–– just everything,”

Zion grins. “And, ___, before I forget, you do know you still owe me big time, right?”

I gave him a sheepish smile. “Geez-”

“Don’t you think about giving up before you pay me back! I’ll make sure to protect you so we both get our time’s worth,”

“And when we get to the safe zone, you’d better get to the food first. Don’t forget to stash some meat for me as well, okay?”

I smiled, grateful that he was still able to make me laugh, even now.

“Oh, Zion...” I sighed. “I’ll be just as thankful to even make it there,”

“I hope there will be more things to be thankful for than that,” He says, smiling as he messes up my hair with his hand. “..So don’t you get hurt, okay?”

“And get some sleep, too,” He said, taking a few steps backwards.

“But it’s not even dark yet,” I said, looking out the window to the setting sun.

He just shook his head, disregarding my statement. “I’m going to bed now. So come around soon, because I’ll be waiting!”

I smiled as he turned around and walked away, my heart thumping wildly at his reference to earlier.

“I’ll be beside you the whole night.”

I guess he really meant it.

On the way to auditorium later, I pass through the second floor. It’s where we spend most of our time in this building. I don’t know why I suddenly feel sentimental. It’s probably because it’s our last night here.

But I can’t let my sentiments steer my focus.

It’s getting dark and I have to be on alert. But, I didn’t know if anyone was in their classroom still, and I didn’t want to bother them if they were. So, I just decided to go down to the first floor alone.

Thankfully, Harry had told me about a safe route to get to the auditorium earlier, so I didn’t think I had to worry much about running into any zombies for now. It was one thing less to worry about, at least.

“Go down the back staircase and through that hall straight down to the auditorium. There’s only one exit there, and it’s by the main hall. So, you shouldn’t have to worry about zombies from there,”

The auditorium was a big room, filled with wrap around cheap movie-theater style chairs all facing a stage. And on the stage, was everyone that had come down already.

Ethan and Eugene looked up when I came up the steps on the side of the stage, sending me a quiet greeting as they went back to playing with what looked like a stage prop. Harry was also there, but he was almost already half asleep, so I didn’t bother him.

Zion on the other hand, who I had been looking for, was true to his word and was fast asleep under some thick blankets a few feet away. I found my spot next to him, settling down on the wood floor as quietly as I could.

With nothing else to do, I decide to lie down as well and organise my thoughts. Lots of things have happened since I came here. But, I’m just glad I met these guys.

I feel more determined to live.

My eyes wander over to Zion, who's still asleep next to me. And, I can’t help a smile.

thank you.

My last night in the school passes peacefully thanks to Zion. Had he not been there, who knows how my night would have gone. And the next morning, we’re finally all ready to set off to the safe zone.

“Is everyone ready?” Lawrence asks, looking over the tired crowd.

“Yup,”

“Let’s move,”

Zion looks back at the auditorium as we’re leaving, turning to me and admitting, “It feel a little weird to leave the school,”

“Then why don’t you stay and live here by yourself?” Eugene suggests, earning a scoff from Zion.

“Shut up!”

Harry looks back at the pair and shushes them. “Shh, let’s keep it down, you guys,”

We all walk down the hallway towards the staircase in silence. I hope we can all make it to the gate safely, at least. And, there hasn’t been any signs of zombies for far, which is also good, but I don’t want to jinx myself.

I follow the guys quietly, and just then, music starts to blare.

“..Huh?”

A musical melody. I recognize it almost immediately as the school bell.

Zion looks up at the speakers on the ceiling and furrows his eyebrows. “What–– what is that?”

“There’s no power in the building. How is this even possible?” I ask, my mind racing for answers until I finally found one. My heart dropped in my chest.

Lawrence.

He had dipped out from the group some time ago, but I assumed that he had just gone back to his classroom to get something. He must have gone to the broadcasting room instead, to do this.

but, why?

The bell was only getting louder. And, then the zombies started appearing. The sounds of footsteps only got closer, the groans and growling chilling everyone to the bone.

“Oh my gosh!’ Hailey screamed at the impending creatures that lurked outside the windows and the doors. And, for a moment, everyone was at a loss for what to do.

Then the windows and doors began to break open, and in a flash, the hallway flood with zombies. All the while, the music is just getting louder.

“Run!” Harry yells, pushing everyone back.

And this time, nobody argues with him. We keep running. We run until we’re out of breath, but things only start to look more hopeless then.

please-

I start to pray –– to help us all out of this misery, and to keep us together until the very end.

Zion breaks me out of my thoughts, yelling, “Come on, you guys! Run!”

Hailey looked terrified, stuttering, “Wh –– where?”

We’re all in panic. None of us ever suspected that we would have to face them in here. Though there may be the occasional spotting of one or two lurking outside, there has never been any signs of immediate threats from them.

That’s how safe this place has been.

A zombie slightly quicker than the rest begins to walk towards Hailey, causing the girl to freeze and stare aimlessly at the monster. Unable to move, she screams as the creature grabs at her arm.

“Hailey!” I yell, my voice almost cracking with surprise. I go to take a step forward until someone holds me back by grabbing my arm.

Quickly, I turn around and see Zion gritting his teeth.

“Zion!’ I whisper, giving him a wide-eyed look as I try to get my arm free. But he just grits his teeth harder as he watches behind me. And suddenly, I hear another grunt, but it wasn’t zombie-like this time.

I turn my head to look back, and Ethan stands there, his bat in his hand and the zombie that had been grabbing at Hailey laying decapitated on the floor.

“Don’t try anything, ___, we’re this close,” He warns me harshly, letting out an irritated sigh as he quickly tightens his grip on my arm.

I turn around, and now Ethan and Harry are both fending off the zombies. Ethan with his bat, and Harry with a stray wooden plank. It’s working well for now, but as more of them keep flooding in, we all realise that this won’t work for much for much longer.

“Let’s run!” Ethan yells, a desperate look on his face as he slams the hilt of his bat into a zombie’s chest. We all quickly glance at each other and simultaneously decide that the zombies have lessened in number enough for everyone to run.

Ethan and Harry are the first to run, gathering everyone in front of them and helping by pushing them along. But I can’t help but look back, feeling woozy at the sight of all the zombies chasing us.

And Zion must have felt it, because he pulled at my arm so that I was running stably again.

“Come on! You gotta stay focused!”

I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, but I nod, focusing on trying to run. But the zombies all seem to be coming from nowhere, and suddenly, I feel slammed with fear.

please, please let everyone make it out.

Zion peeks over his shoulder one last time as we round the corner to the doors, cursing. “Dammit! There’s too many of them!”

“Stop!” I snapped, surprising him as we all neared the doors. “We’re gonna make it!”

I say this, but I don’t know if it’s true. The music is still playing, and the zombies just seem to keep coming. But I don’t want to give up hope just yet.

“That’s it!” Harry encouraged me with a smile as we finally got to the doors, all of us using all of our strength to push them open. Then, all we can do is run as fast as we can to the gate.

The zombies try to follow us out, but with the numerous steps outside the door, most of them can’t make it down without falling. That gave us enough time to all get past the gate and jam it shut using the board Harry had been using.

Once we did, everyone stopped. We were all heaving for breath and sputtering out relieved words, all while glancing back at the zombies loitering around by the doors of the school. Most of them had dialed back by now, though some of them were still walking around as if wondering where we had gone.

“Look’s like there’s no zombies here,” Ethan says, taking a quick glance around as he still tries to catch his breath.

In the quiet, even over our heavy breathing, we can still hear the growling moans of the undead.

“I can’t believe they did this to us. God, if I ever even see another zombie I’m gonna kick its ass!” “Calm down, Eugene,” Harry sighs.

“I can’t believe this happened,” Zion says, looking at the school with furrowed brows. “How did this happen anyway? Doesn’t the school have no power? How did the bell go off?”

My lips parted, and I considered telling them what I thought. But, then I noticed Ethan, still glancing silently back at the school. I know he’s going to ask, but I can’t interrupt in time to avoid it.

“Where’s Lawrence?” He asks, getting everyone’s attention. I couldn’t help it as I let out a soft sigh and shut my eyes.

I decide that I don’t want to tell them. I feel too guilty, and I don’t want to put that on them. They’ve handled enough.

But, I notice Harry quickly catch my eye. Then, we have a brief exchange of looks that make my heart drop.

He knows.

‘I’m suspicious of someone, but, ___, I don’t want to be. Suspicion breaks people apart.’

“He was probably caught up. There’s nothing we can do now,” Harry says. Everyone is quiet at that, and Harry just sends me a silent nod.

“Let’s go. There’s no telling when the zombies will notice us again,” I say, trying to break the silence.

When I get no response, my brows furrow. “Please, don’t you guys get it? You remember what Lawrence always said?”

No response.

“We need to all try our best to survive,” I say, quoting the man directly. “Please, he didn’t want all of us to die! He wanted us to live!”

No response.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m devastated. But–– just standing here in sorrow is not gonna bring him back,”

Lawrence may have betrayed us, but whether they knew that or not, he was still a leader to all of us. He helped us all in our worst times, and I still had to acknowledge that part of him.

“___..” Zion trails off, but I don’t give him a chance to finish.

“Come on. The safe zone isn’t far from here,” I say.

From that, everyone starts to pick themselves up.

“Let’s go. This isn’t over yet.”

Zion grabs my hand, and the warmth of his hand is felt in mine. Then, we start off in the opposite direction of the school.

The school building is getting further away in my sight. And eventually, we all stop hearing the zombies.

Hailey is pretty relieved at this, but I’m happy we’ve finally gotten past at least one obstacle. So with that in mind, we all continue to the safe zone. We walk without breaks, occasionally running with random sounds through the city, and we do it until our lugs burn. But the pain doesn't stop us.

In about an hour, we’re finally close to the safe zone.

“Hang on, we’re almost there,” Zion says to me, noticing that I’m slightly out of breath.

“I’m okay––”

I grip his hand even tighter as everyone continues walking around us, oblivious. I tell myself repeatedly, that I’ll never let go. But then, I think I might have to.

Ahead of us, is the first group of zombies we’ve encountered since leaving the school. At this point, everyone’s tired. We’re all done, and I doubt even Ethan has the strength to fight anymore.

There are zombies ahead, looking at us with their milky, diseased, eyes.

“Oh, shoot! Not now––!” Harry says, voicing all of our thoughts as we stop. No one says anything, just staring at them as they make their way towards us. I feel utterly hopeless again.

But, Zion wastes no time in stepping in front of me, doing what I assume is trying to protect me.

“No, Zion!” I whisper, fear flooding me once again.

“...You all run while I stall them, okay?” He says, getting everyone’s attention. But, when no one says anything, he repeats himself, “Run!”

Harry takes a few steps back, looking back at the zombies in fear. “But, Zion––”

“I said just go!” He snaps.

But I shake my head before anyone else can say anything. “No, no, no. I won’t let you do that. Never!”

“There’s no other way.”

“Stop trying to play hero, Zion, “ I insisted, feeling tears again. “We can all make it, just, please! We’re so close!”

“You gotta live,” He told me, putting his hands on my shoulders. I looked around. At this point, everyone had decided to believe Zion for the fear of their own safety and were numerous steps behind us.

“Zion..” I trailed off, tears finally pricking my eyes.

“Sorry I was never really nice to you. But –– I never meant for it to be that way,” He assured me, giving me a small smile.

I didn’t know what to say.

“I think –– I didn’t wanna let my feelings show ––”

Zion holds my hand tight, and at that point, the zombies have finally caught up. I finally understood why everyone was so far away. I just didn’t know why Zion had to stay.

“Run!” He shouts.

As they finally began to near us, he pushes me back.

oh gosh.. please, somebody help us

As I barely pull myself back up, a shot rings through the air. I stumble back in surprise, unsure where the noise has come from. More sudden gunshots are heard, and the bullets pierce straight through the zombies’ heads.

I’m in Zion’s arms before I know it.

“Dammit, what was that?” He whispers, out of breath as he grips me tighter.

We both look around as the other hesitantly come back over, smiles on their faces that reassured at least me.

“Six survivors confirmed. We’ll check for infections before admitting them into the safe zone.”

Could he be from the safe zone? I’m filled with relief when I spot his uniform.

I start off hesitantly, “Are we..?”

“Yes,” Zion sighs. “We’re here. It’s the safe zone. I’m glad you stuck it out and made it here,”

He wraps his arms around me even tighter. I feel like I could stay like this forever until I feel a tap on my shoulder. Begrudgingly, I separate from Zion to see Harry, smiling his usual friendly smile.

Finally, I’m here. And now, I’ll be able to live out my fantasy.

25 notes · View notes

stone-man-warrior · 3 years

Text

January 22: 2021: 1:07 pm:

============================================

https://twitter.com/CBSNews/status/1352716803181580290

It has to be a cry for help.

Has to be.

This story is the same as saying:

“Yeah... I’d like to report an emergency... uhh, well, when I got here to the White House... you won‘t believe this, but... Herman Munster is the Butler here, there is a dragon that breathes fire... it’s under the stairs, and every time I open the box where the Hot Line is at, you know, that Red Phone... this hand reaches out of the box, and gives me an apple flavored Jolly Rancher Candy... can you please send some help?”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zgKxham7q7Y

youtube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OeEa3gTsVDo

youtube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDm4L7gjYNs

youtube

===============================================

1:43 pm: Other:

https://twitter.com/BBCNews/status/1352685491146149892

From Bing internet search: “Prime numbers that are divisible by 2″:

“By definition, a prime number has only two factors: unity (1) and itself. If a prime number were divisible by 2, and the number were not 2, then this would be a contradiction. Therefore, the only prime number that can be divisible by 2 is 2 itself.”

Arrrrgggghhhhh!

Is a bunch of Christian terror pirate crew “Mating Pairs” aboard the HMS Eleanor Rigby pirate submarine, an “Arc”, on quest for land, riches, slaves. and power.

They use wind to move the boat forward, to find Jesus’, to nail to the mast, to stow below deck, to catch wind, to move the boat forward, to find more Jesus’, to nail to the mast, to stow below deck, to catch wind, to move the boat forward, to find more Jesus’, to nail to the mast, to stow below deck, to catch wind, to move the boat forward, to find more Jesus’...

================================================

2:02 pm: Other:

Why take chances?

See something... say something:

Patrick Vallance = Hamburger Patty Drapery Cover, Top Rail Overcast Configuration.

We have to go back in time, in Twitter news, take the Way-Back Machine to a time when the words: “Less than ten“ were a standard statement from news media when reports from a “Schul Schut” list of the number of dead was the result of some tragic event.

What used to be the standard “Less than ten” is now the rules are up to “13 to 14 people are going to die every day”.

Mr. SAG Universal Patty of Tommy Burgers on Victory Blvd in San Feranando Valley Vallance, is calling for some: “Sodomy”, “Coke... no! Pepsi... no! Coke!” to happen. The Christian SDA pronounce the word “sodomy” as “soda me”. Is important to know that, is standard, means there is a “Save the Princess” and the one who says “soda-me” is the “Princess”, and is also one of the assassins of a larger group that shows up as a result of “soda me” when spoken by someone playing role of victim.

In English: He needs a distraction, something that will use up a lot of global security and rescue resources, to draw attention into the direction of a controlled environment that happens to also be a fake “Schul Schut” garden variety of tragic events played out by nbc/Universal Studios/Comcast terror actors and engineers of all kinds (Disney Imagineers, because of it’s Britain, and they like castles over there) in effort to stall some sudden interest in the activities of “powerful people” in high places in UK, EU, USA, SA, Canada, nz, Down Under in the Outback, Africa, Amazon, Tesla, the Vatican, and Jim Dunlop humble maker of guitar picks and Cry Baby Wah, and other places, such as Boeing, nasa, and Lockheed Martin.

Patty Vallance seems to be ordering a “Schul Schut” to me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mejzuQ9kVbs

youtube

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDN4L7cAQf0

youtube

At the end of the song by Gene Pitney, you can hear the part when the Chinese Laundry shows up, they saw what happened to Japan, so, they are bringing some Chi to the Steak Out, comes with a “number 4 dinner, Happy Family, w/Different Sauce and a side of Sweet & Sour Pork at the Grants Pass China Hut Restaurant. Your town may be different)

===================================

2:40 pm: Practicality Question I have sometimes:

This is bamboo:

It grows as much as eight inches taller every day.

These bamboo trees are as big as an adult waist.

The bamboo wood, fiber, is strong, and is renewable faster than any other plant species suitable for building things that I am aware of, so, why are all of the old growth forests of trees being destroyed for so long when bamboo could be farmed, and used in place of established materials for some of the building and other structural products we use, need, consume.

Eight inches taller every day.

An Oak tree is ready to harvest after 150 years.

Douglas fir takes at least 50 years to produce a 12 inch base, 200 years to be really prime harvestable lumber logs.

I know of two reasons why bamboo is not produced to it’s potential.

One is logistics. The bamboo needs to be farmed in a warm rainy place.

The other reason is not believable, but is like this:

The Christian Pirates need as many ways to brainwash people as is possible, so, when the global populations are on the rise, lots of people who all consume products of all kinds, and the natural source for the products is diminished, such as scary photos and statistics about the condition of forests around the world, with emphasis on the fact the trees consume carbon dioxide, while producing breathable oxygen, then, those Christian Pirates can convince their terror slave pirate crews that the global population is too high, too many people, not enough resources, not enough air, so, they cut down the trees more than is necessary simply to take a photo of the forest to show to the terror pirate crews to scare them, so they will make the kill, to reduce the population. They use the “Global Population Saturation Graph” for that, and some comparative photos, maps, charts that all show how the worlds forests are dwindling. They do that while disregarding any kind of sensible alternatives, and creating a public belief campaign with use of media, to teach people that stuff like bamboo is somehow substandard, has a bad feeling for some reason when I think of bamboo as a structural product. I don‘t even know why I have had that “bamboo is substandard” feeling, but throughout my life, that has been the thought about bamboo, until these past fifteen or so years, when I truly became enlightened to much bullshit that has been tossed at me and everyone for a long, long, long, long, long, long.... long time.

They cut the trees from the forests, then say there are too many people, then send in more bulldozers to cut more trees, then say there is not enough ozone, because there are not enough trees, because there are too many people. They say there will not be enough air because there are too many people and not enough trees. All of that and more, helps to convince the new guys at the Christian Pirate Training School that it’s a good idea to go around to find Jesus’, to nail to the mast, to catch wind, to move the boat forward, to find more Jesus’, to nail to the mast, to catch wind, to move the boat forward, to find more Jesus’....

==================================

3:26 pm:

https://twitter.com/NBCNews/status/1352742134802219019

“What is a COVID Test really?“

A “COVID Test” is complicated to fully explain. The “Test” is derived of a long series of continuous spying, and gathering of personal information about each individual person, and is largely a customized set of circumstances all roled out like a gauntlet of obstacles that one must overcome. The obstacles make the individual weak, they are tired, have been financially hit with extra expense, and less income. They suffer some symptoms resultant of airborne gasses, makes a rash, your leg is burning on the inside, you cannot stop coughing, lots of phloem, headache all the time, vision is poor and double vision and blurry conditions occur as a result of neighbors who are exposing the COVID Test Subject to a variety of airborne gasses.

The COVID Test Subject gets a lot of weird email, the postal mail seems to be sending a subliminal message somehow, the advertising on the YouTube videos the subject watches are combined with all of the other Gauntlet conditions that all makes it seem as though there is someone who can read your mind... is very strange sensation. The subject gets scared, knows there is some giant size thing fucking with them, but cannot see who the people are that are hassling, poisoning, menacing the COVID Test Subject.

The subject needs to go to the doctor for the rash, the vision problem, and is really scared about that burning inside the right leg... it hurts, is hot, is not something that has ever been felt before, so, off to the doctor or hospital goes the COVID Test Subject.

I have survived a whole bunch of the COVID testing.

At the doctor is where the COVID Test happens, very fast, simple, and is after the subject knows there is some kind of enormous entity making life so very difficult. So, the question at the doctor is: “Do you have a Smart Phone?”.

Either yes or no is the answer.

They give you one chance, to go get a smart phone somewhere, anywhere you want to go, there will be someone who knows you are ready to sign up for the phone and you will be given a Smart Phone. All is done so that it all looks legit.

The doctor, they say, is not seeing patients in person. Only video appointments are being done, and that, the subject is told, is because of State Government Mandate, there is a big sign on the wall at the doctor that says the government Mandate is the reason for the video appointment only way of seeing a doctor.

The subject figures out what is going on at that time. The only way to get the rash, the vision problem, stop the coughing, make the burning in the right leg stop, is to go get a Smart Phone, and then be ready to take a video appointment later on, after you go get the Smart Phone.

So, you go to the Walmart, have to get some food, after being told you need a Smart Phone to get medical treatment. At the Walmart, over the loud speakers is a advertisement done live by the Walmart Service Counter, goes like this:

“Today only, at Walmart Electronics Department, for one penny, you can get a brand new Apple iPhone model 10 with a US Cellular Service optional. There is no contract required, if you don‘t want the US Cellular Service, simply cancel, there is no obligation, you get the iPhone for one penny, even if you don‘t want the phone service provided by our partners at US Cellular. So come on over to the Walmart Electronics Department to pick up your brand new iPhone 10 for just one penny.”

And that is what the test is.

They need you and everyone to have the phone, so that you can join the Smart Phone Terror Army, and be forever connected to everyone else with mandatory Blu-tooth handshake. Those who do not have a Smart Phone, or, do not have the prescribed Blu-Tooth settings and information, are tracked down and killed.

Simple as that. Get a phone, join the terror army, do as you are told, and you can live, otherwise all of those Smart Phone terror soldiers are going to follow you everywhere until they kill you and your whole family.

I don‘t know what the particulars are once someone signs up for the Smart Phone. I never signed up to be a terror pirate, and have failed all of the COVID testing that I have been exposed to.

So far, I have not seen many of those COVID Test Kiosk Easy Up Canopies like the ones that are so familiar on Twitter, but I have seen enough to figure out that when those are present at the COVID Test Center, then it means some bulk testing is going on there that day, and, that the place doing the bulk test is protected by the fake police, and, if the canopy is there, that also seems to be a sex slave friendly service center where SAG members can have sex with kidnapped citizens. Maybe more is also said with a COVID Kiosk Easy Up Canopy, I know that much is true.

=========================

4:33 pm:

People who are able to do online comparisons of one persons advertising associated with a YouTube video, vs someone else’s advertising that is presented to the viewer when watching a YouTube video.

If that could be done, you would see that there is “regular person advertisement that comes on YouTube”, and then there is “Special person advertisement that comes on YouTube”.

From that assessment, it gets weird.

The advertising of Pizza Hut, or car advertising might be regular person advertising that is thrust at the viewer.

When it gets into advertising that is for very specialized products, like strange health technology, or unique video equipment of the future, the kind of advertising that takes a half hour, or is made with a computer voice doing the talking like Stephen Hawkins, especially the video products of the future sort of advertising, optical products, is like a big sign that says: “Whale Hunters Paradise is Here” so that the Google terror cells can know that all of the spying has produced evidence that such person who is subject to those kinds of advertising is a high priority target.

I have reached what I call “God Level Advertising Selections on YouTube”.

I don‘t think there is a higher target priority level than the level of advertising I get on YouTube, is all presented for murder hit orders, and many of the products don‘t even exist in reality. Is all for murder, has no other purpose.

=================================================

5:02 pm:

Today is a mixed bag of terror components. I only follow what strikes me, and this hit me in the head today, so, have a look at the hidden features of a standard Google Search, to sex up the search with some fun & games, Google style.

(Disclaimer: I only have done the “Barrel Role”, and the “skew” feature a long time ago, so, those did not seem to hurt, but, it is a Google set of Easter Eggs, and all of them are presumed to be terror mass murder assistant features, so, Google at your own risk)

https://www.howtogeek.com/690469/36-hidden-google-search-games-and-easter-eggs/

=====================================

5:13 pm:

Some history of why there is an Easter Bunny:

It’s all Gnosis. The Easter Bunny is there to make people stupid. The story of the Easter Bunny comes from the descendants of the people who tacked January and February onto the beginning of the year, rather than the end of the year where they should have been tacked onto, 2,021 years ago.

The Easter Bunny hides colorful eggs in the spring time.

If we were living two-thousand years ago, we as collective people would know that things that are too colorful are often poisonous. There is no “Blue colored food” idea. But, we hide the colorful eggs around, and teach our children that a giant rabbit, a boy rabbit, laid the eggs in those weird places. Our children learn from their parents that colorful stuff in the woods, in the front yard, church playground, on the floor in the kitchen, in the trash, are all ok to eat, have candy inside.

In the spring time, mushrooms grow in the same places where the Easter Bunny lays his eggs, many are good to eat, many will make you sick, some will kill you.

It’s hit or miss with those.

So, we get to teach our children how to find and eat poison stuff, while at the same time are failing to pass on old knowledge that was very expensive to get, and that is how to identify what mushrooms are good, and which ones are no good. Two-thousand years ago, everyone knew how to choose a mushroom, is my guess. Today, hardly anyone knows how to choose a mushroom to eat. They are good to eat. There is one kind that is not mistakable, the Morel Mushroom, is very tasty, has texture and flavor very similar to a steak... is really good to have in spring time sauteed with some butter & garlic. You cannot go wrong with a Morel Mushroom, they are easy to identify, but are extremely difficult to find. So, the people who invented the Easter Bunny, I guarantee, are also people who know that a Morel Mushroom is good stuff. They don’t want people to be able to go out in the front yard to get some when it’s May, and it’s 80 degrees, and it rained yesterday at that spot where the Madrone tree burned ten years ago, where the Morel Mushrooms grow every year since the Madrone burned there.

Instead, we teach our children that a giant rabbit came by and laid a bunch of colorful eggs around the front yard, we give them a basket, in the spring time, but they never find any Morel Mushrooms to eat, only learn that colorful stuff on the ground is full of candy, and if there is a giant bunny somewhere nearby, he might have some fresh ones, and they might look like a Morel Mushroom when that happens.

Personally, I don’t believe there are mushrooms that will kill you, I think that story is more Gnosis. Is bullshit that keeps hungry people from finding some food, and is also a handy excuse the sheriff can use about why someone dropped dead.

“He was eating these mushrooms when we saw him last” ~sheriff on a welfare check phone call from family of missing loved one.

======================================

5:53 pm:

It’s pretty clear now that the people who became the Christian Pirates of today, and built the Vatican, and invented the Easter Bunny, Marcus and his pirate crew who only wanted to sleep with Jesus’ Ol’ Lady, so they told a bunch of lies to frame Jesus’ to nail him to the mast of their pirate ship, so they could all rape Jesus’ Ol’ Lady right there where Jesus was nailed to the mast... etc...

... those guys are the same people who destroyed the ancient Greek Empire, and busted up all of the buildings around the Parthenon in Greece.

Then, the set sail for China, went there, took some slaves back to Italy, where the slaves tried to tell those guys about the Tao.

The translation did not work very well.

The assholes turned the Tao all inside out and backwards, and that is what the Christian religion is based on. A hijacked explanation of The Tao as told by a Chinese slave two-thousand years ago, to people who were bent on torture and destruction of everything they encounter.

They wrote the Bible as sort of a treasure map, then made it so that regular people could not read the language, the Dark Ages happened on purpose to keep people stupid, then later, the did a remodel on the Bible they made, called it King James Version, at a time when the went to Scotland, and took that over when “King James the VI and I” was the same guy in two places at once.

Terrorist bastards.

So Golf was invented in Scotland after that, at the same time when the people of Scotland learned that in order to get to where they needed to go, they need a head start to avoid the detour at the short cut. The head start, is what happens when you get really scared because there are so many heads laying around everywhere, and the pirates made a road block, and put a detour so that the Scots would all wind up in a bottleneck, easy to kill that way, when the French Road Crews show up to make the detour that makes the bottleneck at the short cut, where all of those heads are all laying around, and makes the Scots have to run, and skip a head to where they are going without getting killed by the French, or those other assholes from Deutschland,

The bastards went to South America, and the same thing happened to the Mayans, except Soccer was invented at the detour where the short cut required a head start to survive by skipping a head to where they needed to go.

But it looks to me like Hackey-Sack was invented in Greece, on that first attack mission there by the Parthenon, when those guys, Socrates and friends, all became the first soprano’s.

The secret knowledge preserved in the history books about the terror bastards who went to South America and killed all of the Mayans, is in the wording of who is said to have gone there, the “Spanyards”, not the “Spanish from Spain”.

The secret knowledge is in the notion that a “span” is a “wing span of an Angel“, but the truth about the Angel is that it’s really an angle of attack, the angle at which the attitude of the sword on the swing produces the Ell of the cut it makes. The “yard” is your stride, or your personal “reach” or “extension of arms”. There are many small truths preserved in the history books so that those who are Christian Pirates are able to teach their children with the same books that were all written for keeping the rest of us in the dark ages, stupid, and unknowing, all hand fed lies and Gnosis false knowledge.

“Spanyard” is “the extension of arms reach on the fly”, in motion, the “throw before the toss”.

Anglo Saxon

Angel con Sexton

Angle of the Section

The Ell of the Sword

They never even used a compass. They just set sail, and wing it.

Indians in USA happened because they did not bring a compass.

Aboard the Mayflower:

Captain and crew had been sailing for months, no land in sight for far too long.

♠ “Captain, where the fuck are we?”

♣ “Uhh... I haven‘t the foggiest idea”

♠ “Where is the compass? We want to know where we are at!”

♣ “Well... I forgot the compass... sorry”

♠ “Aarrrggghh Christ! He forgot the compass!”

The captain was forever known as “Christopher Columbus after that.

“The Mayflower” is a Morel Mushroom, on fine spring day, nearby where the Madrone tree burned about ten years ago, it’s about 80 degrees and sunny, after it rained yesterday ... is the Mayflower.

So there they are, at Plymouth Rock after mooring the boat, they come ashore, see some people who are curious, don‘t know what that thing is out off the shore line on their beach.

♠ “Who are these people, why are they looking at us like that, Captain?”

♣ “We were told to go to India, to get some curry, so, that is where we are, no matter where we really are, India... is that clear?“

♠ “Those are Indians... Yes, very clear.”

♦ “Mayflower is the new name for the boat, the imaginary one that we are not on, some other crew is on the Mayflower... right?”

♣ “Why.... why yes... that is exactly right... I Christen thee... The Mayflower!”

♥ “Pierre... champagne... quick”

♠ “Huh?

♣ “When we return aboard the Mayflower, no one will recognize us, we’ll just say we could not find the Santa Maria. We can keep our heads on that way, and the new name pf the boat will tell our friends what we found in the new world, without giving ourselves away as fools without a compass.”

♠ “It’ll never work”

♠ “The Queen is always whacked on that opium she keeps sending to Asia anyway, she won‘t know what boat is what. It’ll work, and those are Indians over there, got it?”

♠ “got it”

♣ “Look.... turkey’s!

==============================

7:38 pm:

More secret knowledge:

“Plymouth Rock”

Think in terms of plywood, for the mouth.

“White man speak with forked tongue” rock.

It’s secret knowledge that the name of the boat was changed right there. The sailors had to save face, in the eyes of the Queen, so they came up with a bullshit story for that.

They were supposed to be in India to pick up some curry at the 7-11.

Do math, you’ll see that the sillyness is not far from the truth.

==========

7:45 pm:

Psilocybin shows up on Decoder Ring RADAR.

==========

7:53 pm:

I’ll wager that the story of “The Burning Bush” was inserted into the Bible stories at that time, or, was harnessed in some other way, to help with the Madrone tree that is so helpful for making Morel Mushrooms grow, but the Madrone was turned into a Manzanita bush for the story (one that is never going to be told) and from that, and some French crew aboard the Mayflower, the idea of a chaparral, and a chaperone was crafted, because of the search efforts for the missing Santa Maria, because Manzanita’s grow on a chaparral.

It could work out where the Mayflower chaperoned itself back home from the chaparral where the Morels Grow in the new world, because The Mayflower was the Santa Maria, rebranded carrying “Holy Grail Grade Cargo” from the new world secretly back to Britain.

This kind of speculation requires that not all of the crew were in agreement on the return trip, and the speculation is missing many parts, is only speculation based on some of the truth within the Gnosis in the history books, and, a recollection of special ways the subject was taught in Los Angeles area schools in the 1970′s.

Santa Maria is “Dead Mary”, is “Holy Grail”. To see the Mayflower as it arrived to port in Britain, or Spain, would have been a “Hail Mary” moment.

===================

8:24 pm:

Other related speculation:

If The Mayflower turns out to be something other than what we were told it was, such as rebranded Santa Maria, then, there is many thousands of people who know that to be true, and thus would be using that as a shell language where other branded Mayflower (trucking) is also something other than what it says on the packaging.

====================

I am working on the notion that Trump golf course is called Turnberry.

There is something about the word “Berry” that keeps showing up on Decoder Ring RADAR. There is a Lake Berryessa in northern CA that has shown up all through my life as something more than a lake where championship water-skiing competitions are done.

The word “berry” also is included in Knott’s Berry Farm, and knott’s are the measure of speed at which a pirate ship travels, while the “farm” could represent a symbolic cargo of Pharmaceuticals and with a additional notion that the East India Trading Company is said to have been in the business of locating “spices” from all around the world, my new interpretation of “Spices” is “Pharmaceuticals” from a time perhaps before the word “pharmaceuticals” had been crafted, therefore, are “spices” back in the day.

Berry

It’s showing up in many places of late... I can’t pin point any one particular area of interest though.

The British have always been in the drug trafficking business, and use drugs in their brand of warfare tactics in every way they can be used in warfare. That is why it’s important to study “berry” in as many ways as is possible. The “berry” is “The Fruit from the vine it grows on“ and all of the medicine starts out as a plant, so, “berry” is something I am working on.

There is magic in the proximity of Disneyland (The Castle) to Knott’s Berry Farm (The Garden where the fruit grows on the vine of a pirate ship at speed)

So far, Turnberry seems to be Donald Trump’s way of announcing his marching order goals to his separate terror army of many millions of terror pirates, who are in opposition to the Bergoglio/Vatican.

The marching orders seem to be to “turn” the enormous SAGClubMed terror from the control of SAG Democrats, to the control of the Trump brand Benedict/Vatican terror army.

The dems have controlled and operated the SAGClubMed for decades. Trump wanted to take it from them, and provided the marching orders at the time he named Turnberry golf course resort and made that public in press briefing from Trump Towers.

===================================

10:26 pm:

I am not going to provide Local Update tonight.

====================================

Instead, some other conditions:

I am seeing that it’s very clear that along with the Joe Biden Bobble Head Government comes a more powerful, and higher skill level of computer hackers than is usual.

There are some things happening on my computer tonight that I have not seen before.

Some things about that are the external text editor I sometimes use is like wide open for hacking even when the computer is not even plugged into the modem and I have all of the wireless settings turned off on the computer.

There is no way to keep the people who are at Chartrands 376 Jackpine or the people who are at 520 Jackpine out of my computer while I am trying to get some national security help to come to Oregon for stopping the mass murdering that the Chartrand and the British House of Lords piece of shit who is at 520 Jackpine right now fucking with me, to keep them from continuing to kill everyone.

The modem lights are not working the way they are supposed to work. I unplug the modem cable and all four lights are still showing, is supposed to show only three lights when the cable is disconnected.

Computer wireless settings are off.

“Airplane Mode” means they are off, there is no broadcasting, and no reception is supposed to take place with “Airplane Mode” selected as “On“.

That means the internal blu-tooth is all off.

But it continues to broadcast and receive against my will, not to my liking, and is invisible to know if there is wireless traffic, no way to know, is secret spying and manipulation done by Google, Centurylink, and at Tumblr.

The Centurylink terror is going to be including that a account number has changed recently. They changed everyone’s account number last month. I have a brand new account number because every Centurylink user has been given new account number.

I don‘t even know what my new account number is yet, maybe is on last month bill, I forget... it starts with January payment, has not happened yet, and I pay one month in advance because they keep fucking with me, and charging late fees all stacked up on top of one another $15 each month for ten months in a row for one late payment that happened more than one year ago when Pacific Power shut off the power and I was unable to pay because Pac Pow needed to change some equipment, turned off everyone’s power that day. can‘t use the bill pay online when that happens.

So I pay one month in advance now because of the Centurylink/Pacific Power corporation terror team works in league with carefully planned terror events with customized timing per each individual victim of their murderous ways.

There is no way to get any help.

I need medical services and so do other kidnapped victims, but Joe Biden is only going to protect Joe Biden, who ever is playing his role at the fake white house presidency where it is more likely that Ann Wilson is US President than any other person on earth, despite never having received a single vote.

===================================================

This just in: Last night’s Local Update: posted today, 1-23-2021 at 12:52 pm

“9:36 pm: Local Update:

A walk to the mailbox was interesting.

It's overcast, 36 degrees.

There were some thumbing noises at the corner where the fork in the road is on Jackpine,

A dog barked at 520 Jackpine.

The dog is a black dog, it is one that is usually at Chartrands 376, but tends to change location along with the Chartrand terror cell, who occupy both 376 Jackpine, and 520 Jackpine as is needed for attack at my house.

The black dog barked it's way from the front of 520 to the backyard area of 520.

The thumping sound and the dog barking began at the moment I reached a place on my driveway that is within a viewing range of my walking path from 376 unit B nearby where the Offensive Monroe Surveillance Travel Trailer is at by a pole barn there.

Traffic sounds from the interstate were nearly non existant.

Three pieces of mail in the mail box today, another tax statement from the mortgage, another bit of health insurance mail, and a Centurylink ISP bill. All three pieces of mail are letter size, presented face down at the front of the mailbox, is different than is usual in all ways with the mail.

I walked to the corner at the fork in the road, and one single gunshot sound was presented from Chartrand unit B.

The water well at Monreo's continues to start to spin as I step outside for a walk. The sound of a dry well pump whining is what I hear start to spin each and every time I step out of my front door. I am convinced that the pump sound is many different things on different days, is sometimes a recorded sound played through a speaker, is sometimes the real water pump, and is sometimes a airborne gas pump that begins to fog my driveway with a variety of poison gasses almost daily.

Lighting at Myers is slightly darker yet, in non descript way.

Lighting at Freebergs is absent of the draped white holiday lighting along the road, is still draped along the Freeberg driveway with white holiday strings of lights and colorful strings in circus tent shape that do not match the shape of the garage they are hanging from.

I am writing this Local Update while offline, the internet wire is not connected to my computer and I a using an external text editing software, not directly into the Tumblr web text box, will paste this in at a later time.

The computer is not online as I write and is going all kinds of haywire, font is changing on it's own, size changing, is underline all by itself, then goes back to not underline font, keyboard layout of letters is moving around so that it is extremely difficult to make a Local Update, as per usual.

I feel as though when I do these reports it is only helping the terror army, I don't get any benefit from writing anything at all, ever.

I think I will keep this one to myself, and just save it away for now, maybe post it another day.

That is all.”

=====================

1-23-2021: 12:54 pm:

The Centurylink/Google/Tumblr internet terror consortium is staged all around my home. They are using mobile internet hacking equipment from 376 Jackine Dr. and 520 Jackpine Dr (Grants Pass Oregon 97526) to hijack my computer, change the words. add words, change the font, and the font style as you can see right now. I have no control over these font changes, they happen live, and controls for changing the font is not available to me while using a Tumblr Text Box, so, it’s not even possible for me to make font changes. I can do Bold, or Italic, or Strike Through, but not change the font, someone else is making the changes you see in this paragraph....

Here piggy, piggy, piggy... come on over and say hello, you terrorist limey bastard from House of Lords.

The internet phone lines have been accessed at the two addresses from the service access box on the road, is what I suspect, and there are main service access boxes on Monument Dr at Three Pines Road, and at Pleasant Valley Road at Russell Road where such phone phuckery can happen.

The Flying Fickle Finger of Faith is fucking with me, a real laugh-in.

====================================================

1-23-2021: 1:35 pm:

I checked the Centurylink billing that came in the mail yesterday. The new account number is:

1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Washington DC. (you don‘t need a zip code for WH mail, Joe.) c/o I O Downing Street, Great Britain,

The new account number is a nine digit number plus some Alpha numeric artifacts.

The old Centurylink internet service account numbers were set up with a ten digit local phone number, followed by 234R.

Even those customers who did not have a telephone, were issued an account number that is a telephone number. I use internet, I don’t have a land line phone, have not had one for more than a decade, yet, my account has always been in the form of a local phone number, followed by 234R. The 234R is a “Residential Customer” and is standard for all Residential Centurylink customers. Even when I did have a land line twenty years ago, the account number was made of a different phone number than the phone number that could reach me.

Centurylink is a lot like Pacific Power Corp is, both terror cells own the cables that bring the service to the customers they “serve”.

The Phone number/account number confusion, is a service provided by Centurlylink. The service is used for directing federal officers to the wrong places, for listening to the wrong phone calls, to lead them to the wrong addresses, so that the local authorities can arrange a trap there, to kill the federal officers.

All of that is done on a Centurylink system of cables that are all connected to the wrong terminals inside of the access boxes along the roadsides in the neighborhoods. Entire phone packets of cabling that serve a particular neighborhood, are routed from the main access panels, to neighborhoods that are ten to twenty miles away from where the Centurylink service map says the cables go to.

Spaghetti, is what Centurylink serves with their system. The account w/phone number is only part of the confusion service they offer, and the Spaghetti phone cables, are also only part of the confusion, as there are a number of PBX old style switchboard at the local terror family addresses where phone line communication is switched around even more, randomly, can change daily, hourly, on the fly as the calls are taking place. Those switchboards are capable of connecting land line communications to a Stingray surveillance unit or a Huawei Hong Kong Knock off equivalent with more features, for routing the land line communications to other, digital, VOIP systems where calls can never be located to a source location.

Search this account for “Centurylink Spaghetti Phone Lines” “Meduse” (the name the terrorist bastards gave to the PBX Switchboard parts of the terror communication system) and “stolen phone lines” and “Traps where federal officers are sent” and “Two-Pair”, “Four-Pair” “Six-Pair” “Eight-Pair” ought to bring up much discussion about the Centurylink ISP service method. The Centurylink Spaghetti system is a model that is duplicated in many terror controlled cities throughout the entire world.

It’s all fucked up, ten different ways of fucked, all stacked on top of the other ways. The account number change only fixes a small part of the problems.

The Centurylink Spaghetti Phone System can produce this scenario every day, many times per day:

Federal national security gets a tip about some terror happening somewhere.

They access through a local government court to get the necessary warrant to listen to some calls, and watch some internet use.

The Judge is the a star in the Spaghetti Western that is about to play out.

The judge arranges with Centurylink the access will be provided to the federal officers.

The officers listen to the wrong people. Only actors are portraying some kind of Muslim back pack bomb bullshit, reading their scripted lines on a phone call where the judge arranged the warrant,

The phone call is coming from the International Space Station.

The federal officers are told that the address of the International Space Station is right over there, nearby the Mosque.

So they go there, no one is there.

They listen some more with some mobile equipment, and figure out on their own that those pesky Muslim astronauts have switched some wires around somewhere. Just the way the federal officers were supposed to figure out when the judge set up the surveillance warrant, he is a SAG Director, knows all of the Hollywood movie screenplays, even Matrix is no problem for the Judge to make happen.

So, there is some mom somewhere who is upset, is yelling into a phone, about the “Baby Formula” is bad, and made the baby sick...

The federal officers have what they need, someone said “Formula” on the phone call.

They bust through the door where the mom is holding the sick baby, and they start shooting.

Every fucking time.

=====

It gets complicated right there.

The federal national security team of four guys just fucked up big time.

They think it’s their fault, don‘t know that everything that happened was planned to happen that way. If they did not shoot the mom with baby, the judge has ten other things all ready to make happen instead.

So, the federal guys call the local authorities so that they can do their job while the federal people put their tails between their legs and scurry away to write a sad report to their bosses.

That is when the local guys make some statements, call the federal guys, and some things that suggest the whole thing can disappear as if it never happened.

And that is what those guys will choose to do. All they need to do, is go over to this one place, to talk to this one guy, who has some special cleaning equipment, that guy will make the whole thing go away, and all of the police look the other way, and go write some parking tickets somewhere.

The federal guys go there, to where the local police have a special cleaner guy, just in case for national emergency, and there, is a wire snare, a trap on a spring that works with a motion sensor, as the sad, confused, federal officer group of four guys go there, all with low moral, seeking to save face in embarrassing situation, and the nitrous gas is thick there, all provided by the judge, so the federal guys will walk into the motion sensor and set off the spring loaded wire snare, like those three wire snares that are at Monroe’s next door.

======================================

1-24-2021: 7:02 pm:

“Schul Schut” as ordered by I O Downing on 1-22-2021 by Patrick Vallance on behalf of Boris Johnson and British House of Lords, in concert with the Vatican, and Pope Jorge Mario Bergoglio, AKA: Pope Francis; AKA: The Jim Dunlop (one of many).

https://twitter.com/CBSNews/status/1353538064040288258

With time:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5fezBnvkiU

(insert Brian Eno “Baby’s on Fire” video here)

The controls are disabled again. I am unable to help you, or myself when they hijack what little control I had to begin with. Cannot post the video. An important video that no one is interested in.

0 notes

baekzhang · 7 years

Text

january 19th | misdial

byun baekhyun. reader-insert. voicemail series. 3k words. fluff/angst. au

—it all started with one misdial, and a second, and a third, and...

misdial masterlist + guide | general masterlist

[2017/01/19] 2.22 p.m.: “The doctors said that you haven’t made any progress and I broke down in tears. Baekhyun was crying, too. Satansoo— I mean Kyungsoo was there, too. He told us that you’ll be fine. He bought flowers for you; I thought it was very cute. I hope you’ll be better soon.”

[2017/01/19] 08.15 a.m.: new message from ‘Byun Baekhyun’

» slept well? « did till you woke me up

[seen: 08.17 a.m.]

» ahhh, i’m sorry!! 😰 » i thought you were already up 😅😅 « mhmmmm sure « well, i stayed awake for long « couldn’t sleep. What about you? You’re up awfully early

[seen: 08.21 a.m.]

» couldn’t sleep for shit » i also have to go to the hospital in a bit so yeah « to see..him?

[seen: 08.23 a.m.]

» yeah...to see chanyeol » the doctors gave me a call yesterday evening » they told me to go see them in the early morning, so i’ll be there at around 9.30 « why you tho?

[seen: 08.26 a.m.]

» well » i’m his guardian since idk » about 3 years « ohh « i didn’t know that...what happened to his parents?

[seen: 08.30 a.m.]

» (◼️◼️◼️) « you don’t have to tell me! « it’s probably a too personal matter « i’m sorry

[seen: 08.33 a.m.]

» no, it’s alright » his father died three years ago because of lung cancer » he was...let’s say he smoked a lot, so it was bound to happen » his mother uhhh. Chanyeol hasn’t talked to her in a while. Maybe for about five years now. It’s complicated and idk everything either, but she doesn’t live in Seoul « where does she live?

[delivered: 08.40 a.m.]

« i’m sorry, i shouldn’t be asking these questions

[seen: 08.45 a.m.]

» his mother and his father divorced when he was 15 years old. She moved to the US in the same year and re-married the following year. Chanyeol last saw her at his graduation. Their relationship is complicated, especially because his dad started smoking more after the divorce, so he blames her for his death and didn’t talk to her anymore. Idk if she even cares, she has a new family, another son, so yeah...i am his guardian. Well, me and Kyungsoo

« i see...oh you’re on your way to the hospital now, right? « is it alright if i come later, too?

[seen: 08.55 a.m.]

» i’m on my way to yours, if you want you come with me » and kyungsoo too ughh « baekhyun « thank you

[delivered: 08.56 a.m.]

Truthfully, the past week was awful, horrible; and you knew that you deserved all these feelings. Self-pity wasn’t an option even though you’d have loved to embrace it. Someone might think that crying stops when there are no tears left in your eyes. Well, the tears stopped, but not because you lacked water in any sort. The tears stop when you realise that they won’t solve anything. You cried for maybe an entire day, and Chanyeol didn’t wake up. And then your tears stopped flowing and numbness set in. Numbness, guilt and void.

Quickly, you got dressed. You had showered early in the morning when you couldn’t sleep, so you had that covered already. However, the shower wasn’t as refreshing as it was supposed to be. When you went to your wardrobe and picked a simple outfit—for which you didn’t care too much other than it had to look somewhat acceptable—you almost brought yourself to gasp.

Large bags under your puffy eyes, dry lips that almost seemed to crack, slight wrinkles and surely the lack of sleep drained you enough to actually grow one white hair: you were a damn mess and the worst about it was that your initial shock recovered soon and changed into the monotony of disregard; you just didn’t care and refused to notice how long your nails had grown, how much weight you lost that you fitted perfectly into a three year old pair of jeans and the greyness of your skin. They just weren’t on your mind and had no purpose there for this moment—the moment, which had been lasting for several days now.

Shortly after you got dressed, the door bell rang and your head slowly jerked in the direction and you approached the door, leaving behind heavy steps. You lived in an apartment complex, third floor, so you gave it your best to wander down the stairs as quickly as possible—the elevator would surely take too long to come, especially at such hour where everyone goes to work and it stops at every damn floor! Admittedly, you weren’t sure why, but your heart rate elevated a slight bit, and you couldn’t tell its source. Fear? Excitement? Surprise? Or was it Baekhyun?

By the time his name entered your options, you saw him right at the stairs standing there with a saggy posture that might result in a hunchback hump if he continued to strain his spine like that. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his trousers—just a casual pair of denim—and he kept looking at his feet. You couldn’t his face when you descended from the stairs, just his stance, which probably mirrored yours when you weren’t conscious of it. You were not conscious of it until you saw yourself in a reflection anyway.

“H-hey.” Your voice was weak and raucous; you hadn’t spoken a single word in days because you had nobody to talk to except for yourself, and there wasn’t really much to talk about to yourself. Baekhyun’s shoulders shrugged quickly in shock to your quivering voice and his eyes found yours: he looked all too wrong and paradox. He had teary eyes, more or less unclear skin and his shirt wasn’t ironed but rather creased to the core—but he smiled at you and you couldn’t help but frown slightly before you attempted to return the fake happiness.

“Hey.” Baekhyun knew perfectly fine that there was no reason for happiness, but he still forced his lips to curl upwards to elicit a mirroring of yours. He managed; it wasn’t satisfying and left him with a returning thought of his best friend and the news that he couldn’t really classify from the tone of the other line—emotionless and unrevealing. The short ride to your home had him probably swallow litres of saliva; Byun Baekhyun had never felt that anxious.

He led you to his car, a silver Audi A3 from what you could make out, and you darted your eyes, narrowed slightly, to the door of the passenger seat till you bit on your lip and squinted toward the backdoor.

“Don’t worry, Kyungsoo can sit at the back,” Baekhyun’s voice echoed in your ears and you nodded, whispering an almost inaudible “okay”.

New Message To: Sly Fox Chanyeol Hey Chanyeol...I’m on my way to you! With Baekhyun, too. We’ll pick up Kyungsoo. I hope you’re up sleepy head!

“What are you doing?” You shrieked when you heard Baekhyun’s voice; your heart jumped and your eyes were close to bulging out.

—message saved as draft—

“Checking the clock,” you cleared your throat and glanced at the clock. 09.14 a.m. Baekhyun hummed, the noise made you gulp rather audibly to which he didn’t react and you shifted in the seat, fidgeting with the belt till you ended up resting your head on the window. You didn’t notice it started raining till Baekhyun turned on the windscreen wipers. That and someone entering the car complaining about how it suddenly started raining, although you only perceived that very dazedly.

“Hello.” Your ears perked up and your glassy eyes blinked, staring at the driver who pointed his thumb to the back where you found another guy; he was Kyungsoo you could tell. “My name is Do Kyungsoo. You must be ____?”

Do Kyungsoo is evil and satanic. If you ever see a little man looking like he comes from Star Trek when looking at his hair, then make a run for it.

Your throat dried out instantaneously. And where the fluid lacked it oozed out where you didn’t need it—you were hit by a wave of cold sweat, which had your chin quiver. “Yes, that’s me,” you replied looking everywhere but into those deep, questioning eyes.

Kyungsoo was passive. His eyes appeared dull and he was conflicted everywhere he could possibly feel this net of different thoughts and opinions. He was probably in a worse state of complexity and debate than Baekhyun was, and you knew that he was staring at the back of your shielded head. You could feel his eyes on you and you could assume his thoughts very well.

‘She did this to Chanyeol.’

‘It’s her fault.’

Most importantly, however: ‘Why is she here?’

You didn’t feel like searching for an answer, especially not when there was none to begin with. The question to the why would stand without a reply and Do Kyungsoo had to live with it even when he never uttered it, neither did you know if he really thought this.

Whether the car ride was silent or noisy, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t pay attention to anything but the tightening feeling in your chest and your heavy breathing that almost felt like suffocation. Rain drops slid down the window and everything outside was just hazy. Lightly you could hear the sounds of some casual, jazzy radio music; but nothing you focused on.

What flooded your mind were the thoughts of what you were about to get informed about—Chanyeol’s condition. Would Chanyeol make it? He’ll be okay, right? Today’s medicine has improved so much, he must be doing well. Neither Baekhyun nor Kyungsoo looked like they knew what was about to happen, they were just as you. And that frightened you.

The car came to a halt soon and a tap to your shoulder made your drowsy eyes glance toward Baekhyun who stared at you with a sympathetic manner; he whispered, “We’re here.” You nodded and sloppily got out of the car, Kyungsoo offered you a hand to get out of the seat, which you gladly took. It felt weird to be treated with respect when they could easily discard you and use you rightfully as the scapegoat. If you didn’t act the way you did, he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did, which ultimately resulted in his current situation.

“We’re a little early,” Kyungsoo stated and you looked ahead where the two of them stood; Baekhyun nodded and turned to you with a friendly look that sent daggers toward your heart. Stop being so nice!

“Shall we grab some food first, or do you want to wait?” he questioned and you licked over your dry lips.

“I’m not really hungry,” you announced and Baekhyun just nodded and waited for you to catch up with him; Kyungsoo walked forward. From you three, he appeared to be the least affected, but maybe he just didn’t want anyone to see what he truly thinks and feels. He was a polite man, unlike how you expected him to be. His stare wasn’t murdering, it just didn’t hold any sort of emotion, just void. One could describe his face to be chiseled, not because he was outstandingly good looking like Adonis, but because he looked the same for most of the time. But you didn’t know Kyungsoo too much, barely ten minutes...but you didn’t know Chanyeol much either, nor Baekhyun.

The tears stop when you realise that they won’t solve the problem. Instead you feel empty and numb. Numbness, guilt and void. Then why is Byun Baekhyun staring at you with watered eyes that offered the reflection of a woman in her early twenties, crying, hiccuping and about to fall to her knees in hurt, shock and mixture of various other emotions?

“We’ve observed Mr. Park Chanyeol for nine days now and his brain activity hasn’t changed at all, if all it worsened slightly. This doesn’t mean that he will not wake up, but the chances currently aren’t good. We are currently discussing to use artificial respiration to provide his brain with more oxygen to increase the chances of him waking up and reducing the possibility for a long time amnesia.”

“When will he wake up?”

“Amnesia?” Kyungsoo and Baekhyun uttered at the same time, while you just stared to the ground with shaking hands and head.

“We don’t know when. Mr. Park will most likely suffer amnesia, if he wakes up.”

And by that moment you screamed it out of your lungs with as much force you could: “NO!”

Baekhyun’s hands dropped and he jerked his head in your direction—he was crying, but tried his best to keep his composure. But you couldn’t.

If he wakes up. If.

You stared into Baekhyun’s eyes for five seconds, ignoring any medical bullshit coming from the doctor; then you dashed out of the room and shut it close rather loudly. Chanyeol wouldn’t be disturbed by a loud thud anyways.

[2017/01/19] 10.14 a.m.: incoming call from ‘Byun Baekhyun’

[2017/01/19] 10.16 a.m:: missed call from ‘Byun Baekhyun’

[2017/01/19] 10.17 a.m.: incoming call from ‘Byun Baekhyun’

“Are you...alright? Wow, this is a dumb question. I—I, um, ahh...where are you?”

“I know it’s hard...it’s hard f–for me, too. I just...tell me you’re somewhere safe.”

“Why are you worrying about me?”

“Why? I don’t know...aren’t we friends? Don’t fry worry about each other?”

“You...shouldn’t worry about...me.”

“But I do...”

“Why? We barely know each other.”

“You’re Chanyeol’s girlfriend. Chanyeol wouldn’t like to see you getting so worked up, right?”

“Don’t you...”

“Don’t I what?”

“Never mind. Where are you?”

“I’m outside the hospital, where are you?”

“At the bus station.”

“I’ll be there in a minute, don’t go anywhere!”

[2017/01/19] 10.25 a.m.: call ended

Baekhyun arrived, truly, a minute later at the bus station and saw you, sitting on the seat with your knees pulled to your chest. You had been crying for the entire time, and throughout the entire call you had been sobbing. He didn’t do any better; his face was filled with confusion and worry. And once he was there he just sat next to you for a couple of minutes. He just sat and didn’t do anything but look forward, to the other side of the road. Baekhyun didn’t quite know what to do, he wasn’t used to worry about someone else, especially not when he wanted people to worry about him, too. He was broke from the inside, especially after this visit. What could he do? Cry? He already did, and found no solace in it. So Byun Baekhyun just stared ahead and glanced in your direction every time your hiccup echoed louder in his ears.

“Do you feel ready to go back?” he asked in a quiet voice, and your sobs stopped. Were you ready? For what exactly?

“Visiting hours started,” he added and you swallowed the big lump in your throat.

“Or I can take you home. It’s raining, I don’t want you to go through the rain.”

“I can use the bus,” you whimpered to which he just nodded. He was about to get up when the bus drove to the station. Surely, it was leading to the direction of your apartment, but you made no attempt to get up or say anything.

“Hey, are you getting or not?” the driver shouted and you shook your head slightly; you whispered “no”.

“We’re not,” Baekhyun coughed awkwardly. He heard you. The bus drove away.

Suddenly, you jumped from your seat and extended your hand to Baekhyun’s, who just shot you a quizzical looks—raised eyebrow, and hesitantly he took your hand in his to stand up.

“Let’s go..and visit,” you mumbled and forced a smile onto your lips. Baekhyun’s stomach twisted at the sight, but he followed you.

Flowers. There was exactly one difference in the room. There was a vase filled with flowers next to Chanyeol’s bed. When you entered the room, you saw Kyungsoo sitting in the chair next to the bed; his head jerked toward the door to see who was it, and his eyes shot open in surprise when he saw you and Baekhyun drenched from the rain.

“I didn’t think you’d find her so quickly,” Kyungsoo said calmly and stood up, offering you his seat.

“You got him flowers,” you stated and he titled his head, realising after a second what you meant. Oh!

“Yeah, Chanyeol likes flowers, I guess,” he replied and you nodded, grabbing another chair from the table and suited yourself next to Kyungsoo. Chanyeol likes flowers.

“Remember when he was so pissed when you didn’t get him any flowers when he broke his arm?” Baekhyun said calmly, looking toward the flowers and feeling the petal between his thumb and index finger. Chanyeol broke his arm.

“Yeah, and then I got him orchids and he turned out to be allergic to them. What an idiot.” Chanyeol is allergic to orchids.

The warmth coming from Baekhyun and Kyungsoo had surprised you from the very beginning, they had not shoved the blame on you. And had finally pieced the riddle together.

“Don’t worry, Chanyeol will wake up. We just have to trust him. He was an idiot for driving so late and for no damn reason, too,” Kyungsoo reassured, his hand was on your shoulder and for the first time you’ve seen just a tiny bit of a smile.

Park Chanyeol was talkative like no other man you’ve ever met, but Park Chanyeol was also secretive: they had no idea that you blamed yourself, neither did they know why you did so. And you didn’t know if you had it in yourself to speak up.

[2017/01/19] 02.18 p.m.: calling ‘Sly Fox Chanyeol’

“Hey, this is Chanyeol, I am currently too busy being awesome to answer your call, but you can leave me a message after the beep! [beep]”

256 notes · View notes

localocksmithnearme · 4 years

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Ignition repair

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kookieseyes · 7 years

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I hate you │7

Originally Posted by jeonsshi

summary: You can’t hold back your feelings for the fuckboy and neither can he. member: Jeon Jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, angst word count: 5k warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook badboy!Jungkook I hate you Masterlist │ 1 │ 2 │ 3 │ 4 │ 5 │ 6 │ 7 │ (ongoing) A/N: Thank you guys, 200+ followers seems like a dream. To celebrate 200 you can ASK and SUBMIT Literally ANYTHING. What made you click “Keep Reading”? do you want to see other character’s POV? Was there anything that confused you? Was there a part that was too cringy? Just want to say hi? go ahead!!!

The softness of the blanket hugged your whole body, making you sink deeper into the warm mattress. You didn’t remember the last time your bed felt so comfortable. The feeling was quite strange, but comforting at the same time, helping you forget about what had happened the day before, not that you remembered much of it. You stretched out your body and slowly opened your eyes. “What the fuck?”-no wonder the bed was so comfy, that’s because it wasn’t yours, just like the blanket you were wrapped up in, or the room you were so happy to wake up in just a few seconds ago. What happened, why were you here, who brought you? All the questions were wandering in your brain, not remaining on a single topic for a long period of time. “Okay, breathe, Y/N, just breathe”-you tried to calm yourself down, while carefully looking around the room. You didn’t want to make any sound, to make yourself present just in case that someone who brought you here was still in the apartment. You took off the blanket, causing the sudden shame and embarrassment to stiffen your body, at the sight of the only remaining clothes you were wearing: a black lace underwear and a baggy white T-shirt that didn’t belong to you. You sighed heavily, covering your mouth from shock and once again looked around just to see a glass of water and a piece of paper lying on top of the nightstand:

“Take the pill for your headache, I’m gone for the groceries. Don’t leave before I get back, we need to talk-Jungkook”

“What have you done, Y/N?” There was a limit to how stupid and careless you could be and you’d crossed it a long time ago. The first thought that came into your head was to find a way out of this messed up situation. The last thing you remembered from yesterday was him kissing some other girl, you getting upset and taking a drink from Yoongi. Then you stormed outside and then… there was nothing, a complete blank.

The only visible evidence you had from yesterday was your phone, maybe you texted Ava, texted your parents, anything that would explain why you were lying half-naked on a bed of a person who you used to despise with your whole heart. A sudden call awoke you from thoughts. Ava was the only person who would understand you, not judge and actually make you feel less shitty about yourself.

“Hey Y/N!-she said, and you felt how hearing her silky voice immediately made you relax, until all your thoughts once again transformed into agony and with the panicky voice you were physically unable to hold your tongue and started saying whatever came to your mind

“Ava….Ava, listen, I’m at Jungkook’s place and...I don’t know, I think I slept with him… I don’t remember anything, I..Uh. oh my god, I’m only wearing the underwear and a T-shirt...That means we did it, right? And now he’s gone...I think he just wanted to ditch me...Ava, answer me!-after not hearing a single syllable from her, you finally stopped stammering. Ava was patiently listening to your incoherent words and now was in a full supportive best friend mode.

“Listen, Y/N, you need to calm down for a second and listen to what I’m going to say, okay?her tone was so boss-like, so in control that you immediately followed her orders.

“So, yesterday, at the party, this guy, Yoongi spiked your drink”

“He did what?”-You were in shock, as though it hadn’t happened to you

“Let me finish! Basically, Jungkook found you half-passed out and called me”

“That still doesn’t explain why I’m in his fucking bed!” “Y/N, I swear you cut me off again one more time and I’m hanging up! “Okay, okay, I’m listening”

“I came to get you and he went back to the house and beat the shit out of that Yoongi guy”-you were suppressing your impulse to speak up again, but you wanted to hear the whole story. “Then all of us, Jimin, I and Jungkook took you to his place because it was the closest. And then you know what comes after you get something in your digestive system that you do not want there”

“Did I seriously throw up in Jungkook’s apartment?” “You’re the one and only” “And I’m still here, because…”-why was she just not getting to the point? “Because you obviously couldn’t go home in that condition and my apartment is barely enough for me and my roommate and by the way, your parents were not pleased when I called them and told them you were staying at my place, they didn’t seem to buy it” “That’s it? Is that your reasoning why you left me alone to spend the night with the university’s biggest fuckboy? Are you out of your mind? Ava, who are you even?” “Why are you acting so surprised? You know he’s head over heels for you, he’d never do something to hurt you” “Ava! I can’t believe you! Weren’t you the one telling me to keep away from him, that he was dangerous and to be careful?” “That was until I saw the way he looks at you, or when he nags me to tell him what your next class is so that he can “accidentally” meet you in the hallway, ask Jimin, even he thinks Jungkook is getting more annoying because you’re all he talks about.”

“What? Why am I hearing this for the first time?” “because he asked me not to tell you.”

“But he kissed that girl yesterday, and he knew I was watching, knew how I felt and still did it”

“You just confirmed to me that you feel something towards him, that’s a step forward. At least you admit it. I don’t know what the hell happened to you two yesterday before I found you passed out in his arms, but the way I see it is that both of you are too stubborn to show your feelings to each other, but the rest of the world knows all about it. “But why…”-you didn’t get to finish, you couldn’t get his smirk out of your head after he kissed that girl and blatantly looked at you. You were torn between two versions of him. The one Ava was telling you about, and the impudent one at the party yesterday. The main question was, which one was the real him? “Hey, Y/N, I’m your best friend, but I’ll never be Jungkook. If you want to know why he did something, or why he acted the way he did, he’s the one you should ask. And about you sleeping with him, I can’t be sure. You didn’t do anything while Jimin and I were there, but after we left you might not have survived Jungkook’s charm. You’re with him, aren’t you?

“Actually, no, he left me a note that he’ll come back soon and I don’t know if you’re teasing or you’re being serious”

“Aww… the first love letter, how romantic, my girl’s all grown up”-she completely disregarded your concern. “Ava, you’re just too much sometimes, you know that, right?

“Of course, that’s why you love me. Don’t forget to call your parents after you speak with him”

“I won’t, thank you, Ava, really, I don’t know what I’d do without you” after hanging up, you forced yourself to get up from the bad. You called out to Jungkook but after not hearing anything, you were convinced there was nobody in the apartment.

You got up to find the clothes you were wearing the day before. The bedroom you were in was huge, definitely too big for someone who lived there alone. The small light coming through the dark curtains was not enough for you to see much as if someone had drawn them on purpose not to let the light in. You jumped out of the bed and felt the softness of the carpet below your feet and that’s when the memories resurfaced.

Your bare feet touching the dampness of the ground yesterday, events that led you there, Sam and then Jungkook and that girl, and the anger, fear, embarrassment all mixed together with drowsiness you felt from the drink. How ironic, you were running away from the guy you ended up spending the night with.

If he just wanted to mock you by leading you on, then why did he take care of you yesterday? Why didn’t he just leave you there?Why couldn’t he be less complicated? No matter how many times you tried, Jungkook still remained as a puzzle you could never solve.

You clothes seemed to have disappeared into thin air, you had no choice but to leave on whatever you were wearing and find something else in a closet. You opened the drawer and quickly closed it in a sight of Jungkook’s tidily folded underwear. You got luckier the second time and picked out the gray sweatpants he used to wear often. It was still too big for you, to say the least, the hems gracefully sweeping the floor, but it was better than nothing.

You carefully opened the bedroom door, halfway shutting your eyes until they finally adjusted to the blinding brightness. That’s why the curtains were drawn, he’d done it for you. The door was leading to a huge room that served both as a living room and the kitchen. You would never imagine Jungkook living in a house like this. It was so not him, overly elegant for a guy who talked about video games and sex all the time. You expected the whole room to be scattered with video game cases and snack leftovers on the floor. But instead of a mess, where things are usually placed where they don’t belong, forgotten and then found months later, you were met with the neatly styled room with light purple walls, decorated with the same colored hanging shelves for little toys and family pictures put in small and big frames. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of all of this, a new side of Jungkook that you never knew existed. A small boy was smiling from the picture, standing directly in front of the line where the sky meets the ocean, feet covered by the golden sand, his one hand intertwined with the girl not much older than him and the other one holding the woman’s hand. The man was running towards them, barely making it in the photo. They were curiously looking at him, anticipating whether he can get there in time to be next to them or not.The photo was so natural, full of real emotions that you could almost hear the laughter from the family and the sound of waves crashing against the beach. They were probably his sister and parents he mentioned before. The photo had a date on it 16.07.2000. So it was a three-year-old Jungkook having a time of his life on the family vacation.

The sound of the doorbell startled you. First, you thought it was Jungkook, your mind got dazed again, how were you supposed to meet him? Especially not knowing if you slept with him last night or not, were you supposed to talk to him in a friendly way? Thanks for letting me stay the night, have a good day? Or were you supposed to be angry? But then you realized it was not Jungkook ringing the bell. Why would he leave the house without a key? But you didn’t have enough time to think, because that someone ringing a bell was obviously getting impatient, not letting a single press on the button last for long. You looked through the peephole and saw a woman in her mid-twenties holding two kids. You didn’t hesitate to open the door.

“Hey, Y/N”-the woman said casually. Not even asking your identity and entering the room.

“Uhm... Hi, how do you know my name?”-you asked more than confused, awkwardly playing with the ends of Jungkook’s T-shirt you were still wearing.

“What do you mean how I know, aren’t you Jungkookie's girlfriend?-she asked, not even looking at you, busy while taking off the kids’ warm jackets one by one.

“A girlfriend? No, no, no, we’re not dating”-you said, shaking your head in panic.

“I see... anyway, I’m Irene, Jungkook’s sister”-judging by her look she obviously didn’t buy whatever you said. “Nice to meet you, Irene, your brother already told you my name”-You decided not to touch the girlfriend topic anymore. That was so strange, why did he have to tell his sister? Maybe he just complained about the irritating girl he had to team up with for the stupid assignment. “That’s right, he told me about you, actually he speaks about you all the goddamn time”

“He does what?”

“Oops, I was not supposed to say that, he won’t be pleased”-she said and winked at you implying that what she just said was a secret between us.

“What? What exactly is it that he told you?”- you were furious, he probably told her how annoying you were, concerned about the details to make everything perfect. No matter the fact that you were seeing Irene for the first time, for some reason you didn’t want her to have the wrong impression about you.

“You know, a typical boy has a crush on girl stuff, Y/N did this, Y/N did that”-That was too much information for your brain to process. Jungkook had a crush on you? And he told his sister about it?

“Y/N don’t tell him, or else he won’t let me leave the kids with him anymore, and a good babysitter is hard to find!”- You silently nodded, still shocked from what had just happened and turned your head to see the kids playing with the toys. So that’s who the toys on the shelves belonged to from earlier. Jungkook, a babysitter, that would be a sight to see. Irritated Jungkook playing video games and kids running around him like crazy not letting him do his thing.

“Actually, I know we just met and everything”-Irene continued-”but can I ask you something?”

“Of course” “Do you like him?”-you were startled by the question. Not waiting for her to be so direct and get straight to the point

“I.. uh... I don’t know.. It’s so..”-you were surprised at your own incapability of speaking a full sentence. Why did he always have that effect on you, even if he wasn’t nowhere near you?

“Don’t answer me if you don’t want, but please at least don’t hurt him”-hurt him? Jungkook? You were the only one getting hurt from whatever relationship you had “he might seem like a tough guy, but since our parents left, he’s distanced himself from people. He never gets involved in deep relationships because he thinks everyone leaves at some point. You’re the first person with whom he let his guards down, so please if you don’t feel the same as he does, don’t let him think otherwise.

“I don’t know how to respond to that… I don’t want to get my hopes up and then hear from Jungkook that I’m the only one who feels something, that’s why I’m waiting for him to come back”

“Oh, where is he?”-Irene asked as if she just realized Jungkook was the one who was supposed to meet her here and not you.

“Left a note that he’s gone for the groceries”

“Shit, do you know when he’s coming back? I’m kinda running out of time”-at hearing her mom cursing, the little boy quickly got up and ran towards her “Mommy, you owe me twenty cents, for saying a bad word”-his face lit up when Irene took out twenty cents from the pocket with shame and handed it to a boy.

“Mommy’s gonna go bankrupt soon with Jungkook as a brother to make her life twice as hard as it already is”-she said not to the boy, but more for you to hear.

“I’m supposed to meet my husband at the airport, I’m really sorry for asking this, but could you please take care of the kids before Jungkook comes?” She didn’t even let you answer the question, quickly grabbed the car key and pointed at the kids.

“This is Junsu and this is Mina, guys, look up, this is Y/N. She’s gonna stay with you until Jungkookie comes okay? The kids waved their hands at you and continued playing, they didn’t even complain when their mother hurriedly stormed out of the door.

Great, the day definitely didn’t go in an ordinary way. Thank god it was Saturday and you didn’t have to go to University or work. You were stuck with Jungkook’s niece and nephew in a very confusing situation and there was nothing else to do other than making the best of it.

You loved children but you were an only child, so you didn’t have anyone to play with and tell your darkest secrets to as a child. You were always astonished by the way children think, even the most creative person on earth will be jealous of their imagination.

Junsu and Mina were both friendly and talkative. They usually went off topic whenever you asked them something, but listening to them going on and on about their childish problems made you want to have that childish innocence back. In ten minutes you knew everything about their kindergarten friends, their teachers, and crushes.

Then when there was nothing else to talk about, you started playing hide and seek. Of course with a majority of votes, it was decided that you were “it”. “Ready or not, here I come! You said and immediately noticed Mina’s red dress next to the fridge. “I wonder where they are, why are they such good hiders?” You said jokingly and heard the children giggling.

“Who’s that pretty girl next to the fridge?” you said out loud and got closer to her. When she noticed you, she screamed and ran away from her hiding place. “I’m gonna catch you”-you deliberately slowed down the pace, jogging to pretend as if you were running and couldn’t catch her.

“Y/N you’re so slow”-you heard the boy’s voice from the other side of the room as he joined his sister on the run-“you’ll never catch us”. What has this game turned into, the rules were changed as fast as they were made and now you were trying to catch two kids at the same time.

Tired from jogging, which turned out to be far more exhausting than you thought, you finally caught Mina and brought her into your arms. You started tickling her, her laughter lighting up the room.

“The enemy’s got you, I’ll save you,” Junsu said dramatically like he was a hero trying to save the protagonist from the evil monster. He ran towards you with full speed and caused you to stumble on your feet. You were fast enough to put Mina down safely on the floor before you ended up falling on the floor yourself.

“Now it’s your turn,” said the little girl in a cute manner and started tickling you the same way you’d done before. Junsu joined her and now you were the one laughing so much that the tears started falling down on your cheeks,”stop, stop, stop”-you were begging between the breaths you could take.

“Hey, guys, what’s going on?”-said a man with a black T-shirt, ripped jeans and Timberlands still holding shopping bags in both of his hands. Mina and Junsu immediately stopped after hearing the voice, both of their faces lit up as if they saw their favorite toy in the room.

“Kookie! The kids said simultaneously as if they’d practiced doing that multiple times. Jungkook took both kids in his arms. Junsu crawled up to his neck and sat there as if it was his rightful place, Mina hung onto his neck. Both of them looked like monkeys jumping on a tree. You couldn’t believe how patient Jungkook was with them. If anyone else had as much as dared to bother him like that, he would have already killed them. But there he was, his one hand placed on Junsu to make sure he wouldn’t fall back from his neck and the other hand holding Mina so that she wouldn’t fall down.

The scene was too unique to miss and too amusing for you to notice Jungkook’s stare, that couldn’t hide his smile at how good you looked in his white T-shirt. “Do you need a hand?”- Only when he asked you realized you were still lying on the floor and hastily got up.

“Sorry, I...uh… I’m gonna go now since you came home”-you completely forgot all your plans about talking to him, you got nervous, wanting nothing more than to get out of his intoxicating presence, until you couldn’t hold yourself and tell him everything that bothered you, pour your heart out.

“Y/N, you’re going?”-Junsu said before Jungkook could look up from his bangs that Junsu was so expertly covering his eyes with.

“Don’t go, please!”-Mina followed and held out her one arm, still hanging around her uncle’s neck, to signal you she wanted to be held by you. Before you even knew you were involuntarily holding your arms out too. How could someone so small be so persuasive? Now you looked at Jungkook and noticed disappointment in his still covered eyes. Maybe he wanted you to stay, maybe something could work out between you two, maybe...

“Y/N you should stay, I was serious about the talk”-when he gently touched your arm in reassurance all your doubts disappeared and your mind once again went blank. You knew he genuinely wanted to make everything clear between you two, once and for all. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, you simply nodded and looked as he gently put his nephew down.

“Who wants ice-cream?”-he announced. So that’s the kind of an uncle he was. Spoiling the kids with ice-cream in the morning.

“Kookie!!! You’re the best, I love you!”-immediately replied Mina. You couldn’t hold yourself from smiling when you heard his cute nickname said once again. The first time you thought you mistakenly heard something, but now you were sure that’s what the kids called him. It was so unsuitable with his tough, bad boy image. But again, he was full of surprises.

“But it’s still morning”-you said as you grabbed one of Jungkook’s shopping bags, realizing that Junsu was refusing to let one of his hands go.

“Ice-cream police”-Jungkook said and smiled at you. You could tell that his smile was different from all the other smiles he’d given you since you’d known him, little shy and timid. Maybe he was uncomfortable with you seeing him like this, with his family around.

“Ice-cream police”-the kids repeated after him and pointed their tiny fingers at you. In response, you held your hands up.

“Like uncle, like nephew and niece!”

All four of you sat on the kitchen stools, with Jungkook laying the table. He got you a cup and put three bowls in front of the children and him.

“Your mom called when I was already on my way back home and I had to go back and buy your favorite ice-cream, little lady”-Jungkook said taking Mina’s bowl to scoop some ice-cream into it.

“Thank you”-said Mina and started eating chocolate chip mint ice-cream with huge bites-”Y/N, this is my favorite, I don’t like the other ones, they taste gross”

“Mom said if you say that word again about food you’d have to go to bed before 9”-Junsu said as he dived into his ice-cream that he was so impatiently waiting for.

“She also said don’t talk with your mouth full”-So impressed with her witty comeback both you and Jungkook started laughing.

“Why does she remind me of someone else I know?”-Jungkook asked, without a doubt talking about you and disapprovingly shaking his head, as he took your cup to put ice-cream in it.

“I don’t eat…”

“Sweets on an empty stomach, it makes you dizzy, I know”

“That is...true”-you said, not quite believing that he remembered such a small detail. He poured some hot water and gave the cup back to you, now full of hot chocolate. Touched by his poignant act you found yourself unable to take your eyes off of him, even after his own eyes found yours.

“Y/N!-Junsu’s voice forced you to realize where you were and finally look away-”are you Kookie’s girlfriend?”

“Huh? What, no!” You almost choked from the little sip you took

“Kookie, is Y/N your girlfriend?”-now it was Mina’s turn to speak up. The kids were obviously teaming up against you.

“Didn’t you hear? Y/N doesn’t like me and she’s already with someone else”-Jungkook didn’t even look at Mina, his eyes were focused on yours, now more offended and enraged.

“What are you talking about? That’s not true, plus you’re the one who doesn’t like me”

“Which one’s not true, because one of them definitely is, judging by you kissing your beloved boyfriend yesterday”

“He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my ex and can we talk about it somewhere else?

Both of you got up, faster than you’d want it to look, leaving the kids eating ice-cream behind and entered Jungkook’s room.

“Don’t lie to me, Ava told me you were together”-Jungkook started as soon as he closed the door behind you.

“Well, she clearly missed the part where we broke up, a year ago”

“Is that why you were kissing him?”

“I kissed him to figure out if I still had feelings for him, to finally put an end to our relationship”

“Right, I believe you, and to console him you started patting him after a passionate kiss? for fuck’s sake, why didn’t you cuddle him right then and there, in front of me, while you clearly knew I was there, that’s so messed up”

“How is that messed up Jungkook? Who are you to tell me that? he’s my ex, but he’s still my friend”

“Why didn't you stay with him then?”

“Because I was too busy running after you and guess what, Jungkook? I didn't get to tell you shit because you were making out with that girl. Can I ask you the same question? why didn’t you stay with her? Why am I the one waking up in your bed instead of her?

“I wouldn’t have kissed her if I hadn’t seen you kissing someone else. She doesn't mean anything”

“Of course she doesn't. You had to use her and then leave the poor girl alone, just like many others to go after the one you couldn't fuck?”

“Don't say it like that. You're not just someone I couldn’t...fuck. I saw you crying and knew I messed up, so I followed you out. Do you have any idea how scared I was when you lost consciousness?”

“No, I don’t, because I was so hurt, thinking you just played me that I took a fucking spiked drink from someone I didn’t know”

His already heavy breath seemed to completely stop at hearing your words, all the rage, fury and hurt were slowly replaced by guilt in his eyes.

“I’m sorry”-he slowly mumbled and judging by the way he avoided your gaze, he truly felt guilty and responsible for what had happened to you. Clenching fists the veins on his arms and neck became more visible. He was holding his breath so much that you were scared he would pass out soon. “I’m so sorry, god, I’m such an idiot, Y/N, it’s all my fault, you almost got hurt because of me” The argument was clearly over. How were you supposed to respond to that?

“Jungkook, I should’ve been more careful!- you touched his still clenched fist, to try to loosen it.He was the reason why you wanted to get wasted yesterday, but you were an adult, you should’ve taken care of yourself. He was obviously jealous, seeing you kiss Sam. He would never, ever admit that, but it was obvious both of your jealousy brought you here where you were. Why was it hard for you to say straight forward what you felt. But for some reason, words seemed excessive at that moment.

”Hey, look at me”-you told him after you noticed how much he was struggling to look at anything else but you. Slowly, he raised his head and opened the clenched fist. Now your hands were barely touching, having nowhere else to be other than each other’s hold. But you didn’t dare to do it, not unless you were hundred percent sure what you were getting yourself into.

“Jungkook, can I ask you something?”-instead of answering and breaking the comforting silence, he nodded

“Did we… you know, did we?-You didn’t finish the question and just pointed at his bed, that you had woken up into in the morning.

“I don’t speak gibberish, what was that?-the mood in the room changed in a second. His eyes started sparkling with amusement again. The sparkles that didn’t fail to mesmerize you every single time.

“Don’t make me say it, you know what I mean”

“I’m not sure, are you asking if we had sex in my bad?

“Ahem, yes, exactly that”-you nervously answered his awkward question.

“Y/N, I kicked Yoongi ass, because he tried to have sex with you while you were drugged”

“He didn’t try to have sex with me, just...”

“Just drugged you so that you would pass out and someone would take advantage of you?

“You’re right, I’m sorry, you wouldn’t… ”

“I would never, ever hurt you, okay? and definitely, wouldn’t have sex with you while you were unconscious. I mean, I wouldn't say no if you were awake and under different circumstances, but…”

“Jungkook!”-The tone of your conversation turned into a playful one that both of you were so used to.

You were about to give him a witty comeback, when a shutter sound made you turn towards the door, where two little kids were holding a camera, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Oh my god, Junsu, you’re so dumb, I told you to take a picture when they kissed”.

#jungkook #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fic #jungkook au #bts jungkook #badboy jungkook #badboy!jungkook #fuckboy jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #writings

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shellyscribbles · 4 years

Text

Weekly update

I opted to sleep rather than do this on the correct day, but now I have slept and can function.

So, I was able to add 3,856 words to The Shadow of Vale this week.

I started writing some of the second portion because I really missed the older version of the characters. Complicates doing my numbers, but eh.

Total word count is currently: 22,220 words. :) Progress.

Here’s some snippets:

Leora woke first. Having not spent herself as her sister had, nor carried the stress that Uri did, she lay awake beside her sister well before the other’s stirred. She lay studying the ceiling, the walls, the bed her sister had made. Beneath the blankets, cuddled beside her sister she was warm and comfortable, though her heart still ached with memories of home. She thought of her mother and father, more often her mother.

Not long before the night that Lux fell, Leora had gone with her mother to work on linking to the trees. She had been so patient with her as she struggled to find and tap into the life point. It was exhausting. She had managed to bring up a new tree in the garden as well as several flowers in the plot her mother had cleared for her. It looked disordered beside the work her mother and sister had done together in the garden. Even father had managed to add some beauty despite his lack of artistic instinct. But her mother had praised it. Aila had too.

Leora wiped tears from her eyes and buried her face against her sister who turned in her sleep, laying her arm over her. She drifted briefly back to sleep, awoken later by Uri’s clumsy efforts to sneak out of the room.

“Father says you wish to go there.” Kesia asked as they sat down on the hill facing Enid.

“Uri is taking us there. We tried to go straight north from Galdur, but the sorcerers are there. He thinks it is safer to go through Enid.” Aila said, enjoying the company of the young halfling.

“I don’t know about the sorcerers, but Enid is a safe place to be. There is no way to get there that I know of besides through Tooli and we don’t let anyone through who isn’t loyal to Agur and the nymphs. No sorcerers will be getting through here to Enid.” Kesia spoke with her chin up, happy to impart her knowledge to her new friends.

Aila smiled at Kesia. She liked her, and her father and mother and brothers. She looked back at the town over her shoulder. They all struck her as kind people. Good people. They worked and lived and loved together in a way she had not come across in Lux. Lux was a proud place where they passed on their royal lineage and while not hostile, were less welcoming to those who did not. Not that Lux was a bad place, the Lux nymphs were her family and there was a lot of good in the tree city of light. They did their best to stand against Samael and his wrath which pushed out from Shara to their south.

But the Lux were not as stout as the Tooli. They were one kind, one magic and perhaps hopelessly optimistic.

Aila’s smile faded as she noted a darkening just east of the gate. Turning herself around, she got to her feet, straining her eyes to see.

“What is it?” Kesia asked following her gaze.

Aila shook her head dumbly.

“That’s my father.” Kesia said, anxiety evident in her voice. Aila could see two figures rushing toward them.

“That’s Uri.” Aila said, fear rising in her like a fire as she started down the hill to meet them.

Alaster reached them first, taking Kesia to himself.

“What’s happening? I saw the gathering near the gate.” Aila asked Uri as he approached.

“Sorcerers.” Alaster answered. “Kesia, I need you to get your brothers, bring them here.”

Kesia nodded and rushed down the hill toward the field where she knew her brothers were likely to be playing with their friends.

“I will get my wife and grab some supplies. Take them down to the edge of the town, Ela and my children will get you to the dock; then Enid.” Alaster explained to Uri who nodded after gazing in the direction he had indicated. Alaster patted Uri on the shoulder before rushing back down himself.

“Come on.” Uri took Leora in his arms as she reached for him before taking Aila’s hand.

“The sorcerers, why have they come?” Aila asked as they hurried down the rest of the stairs.

“Alaster said there were whispers that the dueling was seen near here. There are also rumors that Samael has issued that all nymph cites be destroyed. Either way, it wouldn’t be wise to wait and see.”

Aila’s heart raced both from the excretion as they hurried toward the end of the town and the terror of what Vale was becoming. Would they ever reach a safe haven? She already felt they were so far from home, farther still from Shara. What would Samael want with Enid who had never done anything but keep to themselves?

And from the later portion:

He walked, lost in the world of Abaddon where the hero Alex was leading his army to liberate a city under siege. He took the words in quickly as they drew near the city and the battle begun. They had succeeded in surprising the enemy. Hope rose from those inside the walls where it had grown scarce.

The world of Abaddon shattered as his foot sunk into water.

“What the?” Aaron closed the book around his finger and was rather confused to find himself ankle deep in a pond. There was no pond in this area. He was sure of it. He had walked this trail a thousand times, it existed mostly because of his walking it. There had never been a pond there before.

He looked around at the trees. They were strange as well. The trunks were a pale grey for most of them, some were a light tan. The leaves were a deep green, some of the grey trees, had tinges of purple through the veins of the leaves. The grass was fine and speckled with small pink flowers. The overall impression was bright and feminine, and utterly unlike the dark brown woods he was used to.

As he tried to understand where he was, he felt himself grabbed, his arms pinned to his side. He was then lifted and spun to the right over the water.

“Who are you?” A woman he hadn’t noticed asked. Her hand stretched out toward him. Her bright green eyes unnerved him.

Looking to see what held him, he was baffled to find that he could see nothing. Trying his arms, he found they were indeed pinned to his side, but he couldn’t see how. Fear crept through him as he looked back at the woman. “Are you doing this?”

“Who are you?” She demanded again, disregarding his question, though she was intrigued by his confusion.

Still struggling against his unseen binds he answered, “My name is Aaron. I’m no one.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. It made him feel exposed.

“You are human?”

“Yes. Yes.” He answered. He took from her tone that it was the answer she was looking for.

“Kyra, who is this?” A smaller woman approached the first. Aaron was a little surprised he had missed her, but as he focused on her he understood. She looked so much like the trees.

“I don’t know. His name is Aaron.” She kept her eyes fixed on him. “There is something strange about him.” She shook her head, “his mind is like empty rooms. He says he is human, but-” Her eyes shot open suddenly as the answer finally dawned on her. With a string of apologies, she lowered him to the ground beside the pond.

#writeblr #writblr #writing #long post #excerpts

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karenhikari · 7 years

Text

The Ones Who Wander-6. Ends and Discoveries

Hello everyone! I'm coming back after another school-induced hiatus. I can't believe it took me so long to finish. I swear it's been written for weeks, but I just couldn't finish editing it. It's ridiculous!

Also, school is terrible, man, I just want to stay at home and write, but apparently people think I should learn Physics instead. Bullshit, I tell you.

Anyways, we're finally going to be meeting more of the children. In this chapter we still don't get to see all of them, but some of my babies finally appear, and after having waited so long for you to meet them, I'm thrilled. This is such an important chapter and I know I've been saying that I just want to get the introductory chapters over with so you can actually get feels for the children, but you just can't jump this kind of things.

Um... Also, I've seen some fanfics that include a beta note within the author note, so I decided to ask beautiful geminalupus if we could do it and, being the awesome person who she is, she agreed! So... welcome to this new section of TOWW and give a warm welcome to geminalupus!

Beta note:

Hey everyone! I'm geminalupus and I'm so happy to be beta-ing this story! I guess just some general advice for this chapter is to enjoy the last bit of time in the Isle of the Lost and brace yourselves, because next chapter we're in Auradon! Also if you ever forget who any of the children are or their parents Karen is adding a handy guide at the bottom of this chapter!

So, Karen here again. I don't know what else to say, except that I'm terribly excited about this and that I really hope you like this as much as I have loved writing this. Also, I'm trying to explain who the kids are, their parentage and their ages within the story, but I understand there are many names and it can get confusing, so, at geminalupus' suggestion and like she has so graciously said, I will be adding my personal note below. Also, soon you will be seeing over and over, so do not worry.

Here we go!

Ends and Discoveries

They still had five more days before they left when Mal received another unexpected visit. Fortunately, it wasn't Hades.

Prodotes was the one who knocked on her door and notified her that, while they had repeatedly told the villains that Bargain Castle was now out of their reach, that hadn't stopped one of them from trying to surpass the barrier.

"What now?" Mal answered in annoyance.

"There's someone at the door who insists in speaking with you," Prodotes explained.

"And he is...?"

"It's a woman, actually. Anastasia Tremaine, the daughter of―"

"I know who her mother is," Mal cut him. "What does she want here?"

"She says she will only speak to you."

"Then she won't speak at all," she shrugged, turning back to the letter she had been writing before in a clear signal for Prodotes that he was dismissed.

Fifteen minutes later, Anastasia had not left the border of the Embassy and Mal was starting to feel curious as to why she had such a strong resolve when it came to seeing her.

"Let her in," Mal ordered Servus, who nodded awkwardly before doing as he'd been told.

"Don't touch me, I know my way," Mal heard Anastasia say before there was a knock on her door.

"Come in," the daughter of Maleficent ordered.

With a grunt, Servus opened the door, allowing Anastasia to enter.

"You're dismissed, close the door," Mal said, not even raising her eyes once the daughter of Tremaine stood in front of her desk. For a moment after the echo of the door shutting had turned into an expectant silence, neither of them said anything.

At the end, Mal sighed and stopped her writing so she could finally look up to meet Anastasia's eyes.

"Take a seat," she commanded with no circumlocution as she pointed to the mahogany chairs placed in front of her desk. With a stiff nod, Anastasia did as she was told, her sunken eyes staring almost blankly back at Mal. "I suppose you didn't scream at my goblins for forty-five minutes just because you wanted to welcome me back, did you?" Mal questioned sternly.

Anastasia, bony cheekbones projecting long shadows that lengthen her insipid face, shook her head. "I came here to talk to you," she let out, voice hoarse.

"Well, then? What do you have to say?" the daughter of Maleficent inquired bluntly.

"You're leaving the Isle soon," she began, fidgeting with a strand of her disregarded hair. "I... I heard that you'll take some of us with you, the ones that-"

"Excuse me?" Mal laughed, not even trying to hide the taunt of her voice.

"You'll take some of the islanders with you, at least that's what-"

"Even if it were so, what makes you think you even have the right to come and question me about it?" Mal inquired with a prideful smirk.

"You don't understand," Anastasia breathed out heavily. "I couldn't care less about me."

"Forgive me if I doubt your word," the daughter of Maleficent raised an eyebrow.

"No, you don't understand," Anastasia repeated. "I don't... I know that Auradon couldn't care less about me, trust me, I'm aware that I... that no one there can remember a single good thing I did and I've long since accepted the fact that I'll stay here and rot and die in this place."

"Well, Anastasia, if you're so cunning and already know that, explain to me why you're here making me waste my time."

"I don't care what happens to me either!" the older woman said, raising both of her hands to make a small fuss. "You don't understand, Maleficent! I don't... I don't care about me. I know what I did to be here, I earned it."

"Then what-?"

"This is not about me, Maleficent!" Anastasia let out, slamming her open palm on the desk, raising her voice for first the time. "I don't care about me, I can live here. I can, but my son..." she said, her voice barely a whisper in her shaking lips. "Anthony, you've seen him. My son doesn't deserve this place."

"You expect me to believe you?" Mal questioned, unhearing to her complete name. It was, after all, common knowledge in the Isle that her mother had named her after herself. Though, to be fair, no one had dared called her that while the real Maleficent wandered the Isle.

"I know better than to expect something from others. Nothing is free, I know that," the daughter of Tremaine claimed with a flat voice.

"Then why, may I ask, did you argue so strongly to be let in?"

"I don't care about the cost, I want him to get out of here," Anastasia said, skinny arms clinging to herself as she crossed them over her chest.

"Who even said that was even a possibility?" Mal laughed, knowing there were still a few more days to go before she could make the announcement of the evacuation public. She was tempted to do so, however, when Anastasias empty eyes looked straight back at her.

"Do you know nothing about my family, Maleficent?" the daughter of Tremaine began after a few frozen seconds. "Through the years we've been called a lot of things―liars, thieves, riff-raff, cruel. But above all of this, there's something everyone agrees on―we're determined. Everyone has a price, tell me yours and whatever you desire you shall have."

"I doubt you have anything that peaks my interest," Mal crackled. "Therefore I suggest you leave before-"

"Try me," Anastasia hurriedly answered, her voice an octave higher.

"My word is final, Anastasia, get out of here," Mal rolled her eyes, standing up so she could direct the woman to the door and make sure she didn't pocket any of her belongings.

Instead of following the implicit order, Anastasia began to frantically search for something in the folds of her discolored dress. Upon finding the small package she'd been looking for, Anastasia nearly tossed it on Mal's table.

"What is that?"

"Find out for yourself," Anastasia spat, straightening herself in the chair. When they returned to her sides, Anastasia's hands shook.

Of all the flaws Mal had, she could honestly say that the one she despised the most was her curiosity. Everything could have been easier if only she'd stuck to the plan and kicked Anastasia out.

Refraining a sigh, Mal returned to her desk and took the blue small bag in her hands. It was wrinkled, and its color, once a velvety deep blue, was nothing but a faint hue of turquoise now. Anastasia was delusional if she believed she would be impressed by such a thing.

However, the little bag was heavy, and again, showing off her fatal curiosity, Mal decided against simply throwing it back at Anastasia and opened it instead.

Cold metal met the tips of her fingers as soon as she slipped her hand into the wrapping, and the jingling of a chain, so small, suddenly became all that Mal could hear in the silent room.

It was silver, Mal was sure as soon as she'd taken it out, knowing eyes marveling at the delicacy of the work, gaping at the simple thought of something so pure surviving among the filth of the Isle. It wasn't a long chain. If Mal had worn it, the ornament would have barely reached the lapels of her jacket. It wasn't a complicated work either, only a plain, silver necklace.

What made Mal stare back at it in awe, however, was its pendant―from the fine necklace, unashamed and prideful, hung a sapphire the size of a small child's fist.

"Where did you steal this from?" Mal let out, still spellbound with the beauty of the item.

"That's none of your business," the daughter of Tremaine growled. "Get my son and my nieces out of here and the necklace is yours."

"What if I say no?" Mal inquired, her fingers wrapped around the silver chain like claws. Anastasia's lips trembled.

"Don't do that, Mal," she exhaled, sunken eyes wide with a plea.

"Give me a good reason to do as you say," she sneered.

"Listen, you've... you've been to Auradon. You've had a chance, don't take this away from them," the woman began, frantic eyes scanning Mal's features in the desperate search of the slightest nod of comprehension. "I don't want anything for me, I don't care what happens to me, but whatever that is, he doesn't deserve to pay for my mistakes. Neither do the girls. We chose this life, and we chose wrongly, but you've taken away the sole possibility of them ever electing what they want their lives to become. You're robbing these children of what they could be, what they would be if only they had been born somewhere else, somewhere that didn't force bloody knuckles and... and starvation on them."

There were few things Mal could have answered to Anastasia´s tear-rimmed eyes. She could have been honest, but this was the Isle―truth was often frowned upon. Besides, something else held her back―it was yet too early to ignite Anastasia's soul with hope. It was not the time to be honest. Not yet.

"Yeah? What if I told you some things are just the way they are?" Mal let out in a small voice, leaning down as she sat on her desk, her right arm supporting her weight on her leg so she became the only thing Anastasia was able to see.

"You'd be lying," Anastasia said, short from a whisper, reaching for the hand Mal had supported on her own knee. Anastasia was shaking so badly that Mal's own arm began to tremble with the contact.

"How are you sure of that?"

"I can see it," Anastasia pleaded. "You wouldn't have come back if you didn't believe there was something worthy waiting here."

"Get off me," Mal ordered, shaking off Anastasia's hand until she let go. The woman didn't even cling to her. "I don't know what you're talking about," Mal offered, her chest going up and down rapidly. "I don't care about what you've heard, but we all know that the only thing on this Island are leftovers, and if you think you can come and cry to get my pity you're dead wrong."

"Don't be like this, Maleficent," Anastasia whispered, her glassy eyes a black abyss. "I beg you, my son is not to blame for the mistakes I made."

"You're right, however," Mal continued, feeling her insides churn uncomfortably as she ignored Anastasia's desperation. "When you say that each of us have a price."

"What are you saying?" escaped Anastasia's dry lips.

"I don't care who you stole this from," Mal shrugged, tossing the precious necklet on her desk, where it fell unceremoniously. "I've never been greedy, and I don't care about money. On the other hand, what I really value is information."

"What does that even mean?" Anastasi whispered shakily.

"I mean that the Isle doesn't trust me. And they shouldn't, to be fair, as I'm working for the other... um... side now. But they trust you―why shouldn't they? You're on the same ship they are on."

"That's not true, I am not like them," Anastasia argued, making a small fuss with her hands. Her voice had come out with much more strength than everything she'd said during that afternoon. Interesting, Mal thought to herself.

"Oh, I can see you're different," Mal conceded. "But they think you are like them, and that's more than enough for me."

"What do you want then?" she questioned, her countenance seeming more composed.

"I want you to be my informant," Mal answered, no beat around the bush. "I want you to let me know whatever happens in the Isle. Who has been seen with who, new alliances, broken ones―anything and everything. Even what seems too small to matter, how many children attend Dragon Hall, everything."

"What for?"

"That's none of your business," Mal purred, a despiteful smile on her lips. "You want those punks out of here, don't you?"

At the mention of her family, Anastasia pursed her lips and looked down, her hands becoming fists.

"Every two days you'll write your discoveries down and put them in this little bag," Mal continued, forcing her voice to come out as a command as she snapped her fingers. On Anastasia's lap now rested a small, purple bag, its top sealed by two strings that formed a bow. In the center of the fabric, a dragon spreading its wings had been swung. "Only you and I can open that, but every two days one of my goblins will take it from you. You won't have to come and deliver it personally, don't worry. You only have to write the news down and my goblins will find it."

"What are you going to do with that information? What are you going to-?"

"Oh, if I were you I wouldn't ask so many questions," Mal replied with a nonchalant smile, jumping off her desk so she could direct Anastasia to the door again. "Do as I say and not only Anthony, but Drizella's daughters too will get out of here safe and sound."

"Don't hurt them," Anastasia whispered. "Whatever you do, don't hurt them. They are children, they don't know what they're doing, please don't hurt them."

"I assure you they will be treated like they deserve," Mal bowed, her voice a genuine pledge, even when her voice seemed threatening.

"Don't hurt them," Anastasia whispered a last time before she exited the room, both of her hands reaching for Mal's wrist, were they clung hard enough to bruise.

"Get off me," Mal repeated, voice lacking her usual harshness as she shook off Anastasia's hands once again.

"I'll give you anything you want, but don't touch a hair in their heads, I beg you."

"Don't come to my place again," Mal ordered. "I'll see that they get out of here."

"Thank you," Anastasia let out, short from a whisper, the escape of two forbidden words.

"I'm not doing this for you. And I'm not doing this for them either," Mal cut her. "Don't come here again, because I may not be so compassionate."

And with that, the youngest daughter of Lady Tremaine was out, along with her bony fingers that had gripped around Mal's wrists like claws and her trembling voice.

Long after she had left, long after the dark veil of the sky had brightened and Mal had gone down to serve breakfast for the kids, Anastasia's defeated voice was still sounding clear as a bell in Mal's head, the icy feeling of her fingers still around her wrist.

—*—*—

It was the day after Anastasia's visit that Mal had scheduled a more... pleasurable meeting.

Yen Sid, despite not having crossed her mind in the months since she'd left the Isle had become more interesting in the past few days. He was, after all, a powerful magician who had decided to stay behind in hopes of educating the islanders even when he had not earned the Isle himself.

Although his work had not been remunerated, Mal knew he was still standing on their side and had offered him a room at Bargain Castle, to show him that he was part of Auradon and to improve his living standard by taking him to a safer and cleaner environment.

Surprisingly, Yen Sid had refused, arguing that his old shack was all he needed. Yes, it was small and not very luxurious, but it served its purpose and kept him warm. Yen Sid wasn't an ambitious person, that was for sure, and instead he'd told Mal that he already had all that he needed. What they had agreed on, however, was the fact that Bargain Castle had too many empty rooms.

He'd said there were other people who needed a spare room more than he did.

At first, Mal hadn't understood what he was talking about, but upon a closer reflection she'd reached the conclusion that Yen Sid had been talking about the kids. And he wasn't wrong.

For years she'd seen Carlos spend the night at Jafar's store or even at Evie's room just to escape one of Cruella's drunken outbursts. For years as well she'd seen Jay nonchalantly brush off the fact that he'd rather pass the days stealing off at the bazar rather than go back and face his father's complaints and resentful eyes.

There was no way to know whether or not if it'd work, but perhaps it was time to prove that, while the Embassy was following Auradon's lead, it was doing so on its own accord, with a set of rules that were unheard to Auradon and a plan that could be changed if the occasion called for it.

By morning the next day, as they served breakfast in the boisterous dining room, Mal made a new announcement―from that day on, any of the children born in the Isle would be able to request a room in the embassy, be it to escape a disgruntled victim of robbery or to hide from a disappointed parent. She didn't add that, however, and settled for letting them know that the doors of Bargain Castle were now opened for them.

Of course, her new suggestion was soon met with arguments.

"What kind of joke is this?" Yzla inquired, playing with her fork.

"As I am not laughing I would assume it is not one," Mal counterattacked calmly.

"Let me guess, this is another one of Auradon's pitiful attempts to make amends with us," Desiree, Drizella's oldest daughter questioned.

You haven't seen half of Auradon's amends, Mal thought to herself.

"I wouldn't get Auradon involved in this," Mal rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, don't tell me," Doretta, Desiree's sister piped in, for once agreeing with Desiree. "First they send you and the food and now they have somehow convinced you to let us inside the castle? What for? To steal from us? Guess what, Mal, I doubt that we have anything Auradon would be interested in having."

"Well, though I must confess your deduction skills do exist, you are wrong," Mal deadpanned. "Having Bargain Castle transformed into a community dining room was a direct order from Auradon, but offering it for a shelter? They have no idea I'm doing it. They didn't order me to do it and they couldn't care less about what I do with the castle."

"Then why would you-"

"Because, Yzla, unlike Auradonians, I know this place," Mal cut her rapidly. "I'm offering a room right here, were your parents can't reach you. Take it or leave it, maybe I won't feel so generous tomorrow."

"And you expect us to believe in something like this, so out of nowhere, when you've never-"

"I'll do it," Ginny stood up, cutting off Anthony Tremaine's reply with nothing more than a glare of her green eyes.

"Pardon me?" the daughter of Maleficent questioned, turning around to face the other girl.

"It's your lucky day, Mal," Ginny snickered. "I volunteer as your guinea pig, in case your generous offer is still standing."

Mal didn't say that it wasn't her lucky day, from the look of the thin bruises around Ginny's neck, barely a hue of yellow now.

"Good," Mal nodded with a shrug. "Anyone else that wants to test my patience today?"

There were a few seconds of static silence, as her interlocutors turned to look at each other with something that was almost shyness. Finally, Ginny spoke up again.

"Claudine will stay too," she said, her hand going to the wrist of Frollo's daughter in an iron grip so she could pull the girl up.

"What?" Claudine hissed, staring back at Ginny in both rage and disbelief. Mal raised an eyebrow in query, but decided against asking why Ginny was suddenly making Claudine's decisions.

Surprisingly, the rest of the dining room did the same and stared back in silence for what had to be the first time in their lives. One could only handle so many strange things before even you started acting different, Mal supposed.

Ignoring them, Ginny gave Claudine a threatening look and, from what Mal could see, tightened her grip around the other's wrist before hissing something under her breath. Whatever Ginny said was lost in her low voice and the big hallway, but the truth was that Claudine's reaction was immediate―upon Ginny's words, Claudine turned her head down and gave a small nod, almost ashamed. Ginny huffed.

"Claudine will stay," Ginny said once more, icy eyes fixed upon Mal's.

"Good," Mal shrugged, turning on her heels to abandon the dining room. "Anyone else who wants to question me about my intentions is welcomed to do so."

Two days later, Yzla moved in with them as well.

Mal knew Ginny slept with a dagger under her pillow, and she was more than aware that Yzla still waited for the others to start eating before she so much as touched the fork she'd been given. Quite honestly, Mal hadn't been expecting anything less from them―she was still, after all, tempted to throw a blow at a petty princess from time to time and she couldn't count the times she'd refrained the urge to slam a spoon on the table when Evie tried to explain to her why there were more than one item that looked exactly the same albeit a little smaller.

She could live with it, with the distrust with which Anthony stared back at her, with the skepticism in Desiree's smirk. She could do so knowing that the day they wouldn't be able to do that anymore was coming closer.

—*—*—

When she finally announced the real reason behind her return to the Isle, Mal received all kinds of reactions―first disbelief, then confusion. Finally, the explosion.

Later, Mal would recall things thrown her way, disgruntled screams and sarcastic laughs, but at that moment, all she had focused on was the blood pulsing in her jugular, the breaths she forced to come out evenly, the words she was about to say.

"You have twenty-four hours starting right now to sort out your things," she declared with a stoic face. "I want all of you at the dock tomorrow at eleven o'clock in the morning."

"What if we're not tempted to visit Auradon?" someone hissed.

"Then I still want you at the dock because this is not a question and no one cares about your opinion," she smirked, the gesture cold and forced. "And don't worry, if you happen to forget about our departure I will personally see that you are reminded of it."

A round of growls and more screams followed, but no one dared say anything loud enough for Mal to understand, so she continued.

"Pack wisely, you're not coming back," she concluded, before turning on her heels to leave the room, the slamming of the door resounding through the walls.

It was almost done, she told herself. Almost done.

—*—*—

The next day, Mal was up so early Evie would have been proud of her, although she had little time to think about what the blue princess would have told her. It didn't matter―after all, her voluntary absence was soon to finish and Evie would be able to tell her whatever came to her mind face-to-face soon enough.

The first thing Mal made sure to put in order was her own luggage. Weirdly enough, Mal had three suitcases now, instead of the solitary one she'd arrived with. The reason was perhaps too obvious―back when she had left the Isle for the first time, she'd thought there was no need to pack more than a few jeans and an equal number of shirts. They would go back to the Isle soon, after all, once their parents owned the world and the barrier didn't exist.

Now, after realizing she didn't want her mother to hold any power, not only in Auradon, but in the Isle either, it was clear as could be that she had no desire to ever return to the Isle of the Lost.

No, this was the last time she would ever set foot in her old bedroom, the last time she'd sleep on that mattress that dripped dampness. The last time she would open the windows and then think better of it once the soiled air hit her nose.

She was going away for good.

Which meant that, this time, she had to pack all she actually wanted to keep, from clothes, old drawing notebooks and her mother's dusty magic books. Hence her multiplied number of bags.

She decided to wait for the children to eat breakfast, remembering ―much like she did every morning― the argument she'd had with Ginny during the first few days the dining room had actually worked. It all started because, until then, Mal had opted for leaving the kids to their own devices as she moved away to her bedroom, thinking ―not without reason― that they felt intimidated by her and would find themselves more at ease if she wasn't there. To Mal, it made sense.

Not so for Ginny, apparently, who thought she was enjoying a much better meal than the one she had served to them and only disappeared to try to cover it up. The truth was, Mal had been living on granola bars and canned food just as much as they had, but she couldn't do anything other than roll her eyes at a fuming Ginny.

So she had agreed to start eating with them, the dining room falling silent the first time she had appeared there, a simple, gray tray in her hand with the same frugal amount of food she was offering them placed on it.

Seriously, she was getting tired of this, she thought absently as she opened her red fruits bar, the weight of thirty pairs of eyes heavy on her shoulders.

"Look who decided to appear," Harriet said, taking a seat in front of her, blocking the perfect view Mal had of the whole dining room.

"I could say the same for yourself," she replied, and right then, she had felt it, the pressure of being watched decreased a little. Harriet's kids, she decided, after tilting her head to take a look at the ―once again― boisterous room.

Soon enough, not only Harriet's crew had decided that she meant no threat, but everyone else had gone back to their own business as well, and though she didn't speak much with Hook's daughter, she found herself relaxing in her presence.

After that, she had made a point of eating with them, even if just to prove Ginny wrong.

The morning of their departure, breakfast was tense, the air heavy with an unspoken question. As she handed out trays of magically-heated noodles, her head pounding, Mal was perfectly aware of the amount of dirty looks thrown her way.

"Allow me to remind you," she said, interrupting a good number of small conversations, but not having to actually raise her voice to be heard like she had the previous days. "The ship is leaving today. I expect all of you, with your bags, today at the dock."

"Was this what you were doing all along?" Yzla raised her voice. "Lulling us until you could order us around and make us follow you to Auradon?"

"For the record, I don't need Auradon's permission to order you around," Mal hissed. "I was doing it long before I even left the Isle in the first place, in case you've forgotten."

"We don't want to leave," Harriet shot back, standing up.

"Well, what a shame, because the decision is not up to you."

"What do they want us for?" Claudine seconded. "To work for them? Cheap manpower? That's not happening."

"They want you for the exact same thing they wanted me," she spat, forcing her eyes clean of any trace of magic. "They want to take you out of here, that's it."

"What, are there enough sweet princes out there for us too, is that it?" CJ, Harriet's younger sister, crackled a laugh. "Do you think we're that idiotic?"

"Trust me, there are things more interesting than a prince," Mal rolled her eyes. "Running water, for example. Refrigerators, signal, soap," Mal listed, her breathing becoming more labored. "Though I wouldn't count on you to know any of this because you've never heard of something like that."

There was a moment of stillness, though Mal wouldn't have called it silence or peacefulness, as she could hear shushed conversations in the edge of the room.

"Listen up, you all know Freddie, Facilier's daughter. She has a wicked character and she fitted perfectly in this place, yet she hasn't come back and she has no plans or whatsoever of doing it. She left by her own feet," Mal spoke up again.

"She did so because she's always been an idiot," someone said, and though Mal knew it had been a male, she had no way of being sure of who it had been, so she settled for sending a glare in a general direction.

"You fought against Jay, most of you did," she continued. "He isn't coming back any more than Freddie is."

"Evie hasn't come back either," a small voice said to Mal's right. Upon turning, the daughter of Maleficent recognized Dizzy, another one of Drizella's daughters.

"Evie wouldn't come back even if they paid her," she said, her eyes hardened. "I couldn't care less about whether or not you trust my word, but you know all about facts, so, by plain logic, there must be something in Auradon that makes all of them want to stay."

"I think that's called kidnapping," one of Gaston's sons said, laughing loudly. Mal was ready to tell him to fuck off.

"You came back," Ginny pointed out flatly, in low voice.

"Only because I had things to do here," she retaliated.

"Are you saying that if Auradon hadn't sent you back you would have never returned?" Ginny questioned.

"There is no way to assert that, especially not now that I'm already here," Mal shot back, the rise and fall of her chest the only movement of her impassible features. "But I seem to remember that a fair number of you wanted to leave this filthy place before I announced Auradon's willingness to receive you there. Why the sudden change of mind?"

At her question, asked to no one in particular, the murmurs shushed.

"This is all we know," Harriet finally said, her voice so low Mal was tempted to think her words had only been meant for her.

"Which is exactly my point," Mal conceded. "You do know that if you stay here your crew will never sail, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" Mal rolled her eyes before raising her voice again. "This is not a petition and this is not a suggestion―it's an order. You will leave the Isle today. I suggest you start getting ready."

That was enough. With fisted hands, Harriet turned away from her. She knew what Mal meant.

And with that, she left the room, unhearing to the protests her words had provoked.

After that, the day passed in a blur. Mal emptied the kitchen, made sure that all of the windows were closed, she went through the house three more times until she was positive that she wasn't forgetting something important.

In the end, it turned out there was extra food and, unwilling to take it back to Auradon, Mal decided to divide it and give it away to the goblins. Useless, she could almost hear the voice of her mother say. Never treat these idiots like you would an ally. Never give them any reason to think that they are more than disposable goods.

Her mother's thoughts on the matter only made her want to do so more strongly.

Despotes was the one who would have to deliver the newly divided packages, as she had no time to lose now that her watch marked twenty to eleven. The goblins had been allowed to keep their dungeons. Mal supposed it was a good exchange, after all―they would have to protect Bargain Castle, as it was their only hideout left.

Mal was in the wharf ten minutes before the established time, her suitcases already inside the Pharaoh, with Despotes and Servus by her side. This was it, she told herself. This was it.

When her watch marked eleven o'clock the only one that arrived was Yen Sid, whom Mal had convinced to come with them. There would be no need for him to remain in the Isle now that there were no kids to teach to. He was only holding a small backpack. 'Not much that I want to keep from this place,' he shrugged off when Mal questioned him.

It was nearly fifteen minutes later that Anastasia arrived, her waxy countenance stoic as she was escorted by her son, her left arm entwined with his right, while she held Dulcie, the youngest daughter of Drizella, with her right hip. Behind them, more accurately, dancing weirdly around them, came Dizzy. Anastasia's black eyes were void of anything that she might have sported a few days in the past when she had appeared in Mal's office.

It took Mal a moment to realize that, trailing behind them, came a third child, another one of Drizella's kids. Darling, she thought she was called, something like that. No, it was Daryn, she was sure. And from the look in her face, she had been forced to leave the sweet comforts of the Isle to board a ship to the unknown.

"Is this why you said Evie wasn't coming back?" Dizzy questioned as soon as she had caught up with Mal, distracting her. "Because you were taking us out?"

"In part," she nodded. "I'm sure you'll like it were we're going. Say goodbye to your aunt."

Through their short dialogue, Mal felt Anastasia's strong glare on her, but decided to ignore her. It was far too early to begin an argument.

"I was under the impression that Drizella had more than three kids," Mal said instead.

"They will come," the woman echoed, and only then did Mal notice a dark bruise on her left cheekbone.

"Well, alright," Mal shrugged, fumbling with her folder. "Until then I am supposed to hand out these badges, just to be a little in control."

The identifications were a terrible idea, Mal sighed. She had argued so more than five times, but the Fairy Godmother had insisted. 'It's normal,' she'd said. 'This is just so we can recognize them more easily once they're here.'

Of course, Fayanna had no idea that, in the Isle, when you wanted to be 'recognized' you made a name for yourself. You made it so that the mere thought of you made your adversary watch over their shoulder and shiver. No one ever wore name tags around their neck, especially not ones with their forenames, age and picture.

"I have one myself, everyone will be wearing one," Mal reassured under Anastasia's critic eyes as she opened her jacket to reveal her own identification badge.

"I hate you," Daryn muttered, sending a piercing glare in her aunt's direction. As an answer, Anastasia merely closed her eyes and sighed.

"Daryn, don't talk like that," Anthony hissed.

"It's true," the girl said, stomping her right foot on the ground. "I hate her and all of you."

"Give us the identifications," Anastasia instructed then in a weak attempt to change the topic.

Silently, Mal complied, deciding that she could deal with a nine-year-old's rejection. It didn't help that the already somber atmosphere was now accompanied by Dizzy's forlorn expression and Anastasia's resignation.

Instead of continuing her thrilling conversation with the Tremaine family, Mal was soon pulled away when Ginny arrived to the dock, a single handbag with her.

"It is true, then," she said.

"I may be a lot of things, Ginny, but I am not a liar. I thought you knew that," Mal shrugged, handing her identification. Thankfully, the daughter of Gothel didn't protest.

"You did tell your mother you would get that wand for her," Ginny offered, unconvinced.

"I do believe I had no other option than telling her what she wanted to hear," Mal offered dully.

It was probably good the anchorage was still empty, Mal reflected on later. That way she had just enough time to prove herself all over again before each of the islanders boarded the ship. It would also make this whole ordeal all the more tedious.

"Get your things ready, we'll leave soon enough," she ordered.

"I'll be back there's something... something I'm missing."

"You do you. This thing sets sail at twelve," Mal replied flatly. In true, at twelve she would send for the ones who were not in the ship already, so there was a good chance they would not leave before one in the afternoon. Good thing she wasn't overly-concerned with schedules.

People started to arrive at something like eleven forty, and from that moment on, everything was madness. Behind her, Mal could hear the goblins ―of which there were now five or six― loading the ship with suitcases and directing the children to the deck, exactly like Mal had instructed.

It was almost twelve o'clock when Harriet finally arrived. Alone.

"If something happens to them, if something so much as goes wrong―"

"There'll be hell to pay, I'm aware," Mal cut her, handing Harriet not only her own identification, but also the ones for the kids she knew were part of her crew. "Keep in mind that if I screw up you won't be the only one wanting my head. Trust me, I'm working so that nothing goes wrong."

"Good," Harriet nodded, turning away from Mal to whistle. In no time, the children of Hook's old crew, along with several others were perfectly lined up in front of Harriet.

It was just past twelve when Ginny returned, her left hand tightly wrapped around Claudine's wrist. The movement of Ginny's other hand was hard to follow, her fingers becoming fists before pointing at something and fisting again as the girls whispered furiously between each other.

Deciding that was not her problem, Mal turned her attention on the things she could actually fix. Fortunately, that day it seemed there was enough work around her to busy herself with.

Morgana arrived not long after Claudine and Ginny, with Melvin and Mayra holding tightly to her hands, each with a small suitcase. Amused, Mal realized that Mayra was clutching a stuffed octopus to her chest.

"Mom said we're leaving with you!" Mayra announced, letting go of Morgana's hand to cling to Mal's arm, forcing the daughter of Maleficent to focus on her. As soon as Mal turned to her, Mayra stepped back, smiling up at her.

"That's true," Mal shrugged. "I hope you like where we're going."

"Mom said we should obey you now," Melvin seconded, gripping with more strength to his mother as he gave Mal a dirty look.

"I'd say that's up to you," Mal offered, fixing her eyes on Morgana's emaciated features instead of on her boy. "You don't have to obey me, but if you do you will be safer and your mother won't be as worried, so I suppose it's more about if you dislike me more than you care about your mother."

Eyes still piercing, Melvin clutched his mother's hand with more closely. He didn't say anything, at least, but he didn't have to. Mal didn't need him to voice his despise when he was staring at her as if she ate puppies for breakfast.

Probably without knowing, Mayra chose that exact moment to ask something to Mal, breaking down the tension.

"What was that, Mayra?" Mal asked, turning back to the girl.

"That big pole, what's its name? Does it have a name or do you just call it big stick?" she repeated, pointing back to the mast of the ship, same that Mal had honestly never cared enough about to wonder whether or not if it had a name. Before Mal could come up with an alternative name to digress Mayra's attention or confess her ignorance, Harriet answered.

"We called the big one the main mast, but there's also the foremast and the mizzen, you see?" she explained, gesturing for Melvin to near her so she could point them out for him as well. Albeit reluctantly, Melvin approached her.

"And that part, with the pretty lady, what do you call it? Does the lady have a name?" Mayra attacked again.

"That is the figurehead, but as for the lady... Mal, did you call your mermaid something?"

"Alhambra," Mal let out automatically, before she refrained a sigh at her own stupidity.

"Interesting name," Harriet snickered, turning back to the children.

"Can I... can I speak with you?" Mal heard Morgana say, barely a feeble whisper.

"I suppose so," Mal shrugged her shoulders.

"Alone," she requested, tilting her head the tiniest bit to point at the spot where Harriet was squatting with her children. As all answer, Mal nodded heavily.

"Melvin, Mayra, say goodbye to your mother, we're leaving soon," the daughter of Maleficent ordered.

"Mal, mom said we're not coming back," Mayra let out, momentarily distracted from the helm of the vessel.

"Your mom's right," Mal conceded. "That's why you must say goodbye to her."

"But... but she will come to visit, right? To Auradon?"

"Mayra," Morgana murmured, her voice too pained to be considered a hiss. "We've talked about this."

"But you said we should ask if we had any questions!" the girl protested. "I want to know if you will come to see us!"

For a moment, Mal caught her hands gripping her folder tightly, the breath frozen in her throat. Of all the comments she'd planned, of all the burning despise that weighted down her tongue, there was not a single word that she had considered to say in the odd case that one of the kids genuinely wanted to remain in contact with his parents.

"We'll... we'll see about that," she replied, the lie throbbing on her tongue like poison. "But I'm sure your mother would very much like that, wouldn't you, Morgana?"

"Certainly," Ursula's sister let out, short from a whisper.

"Harriet," Mal called after a short silence. "Why don't you show them the inside of the ship?"

There was an undeniable stillness around them as Morgana leaned down to kiss her children for the last time, an icy stiffness in Harriet's movements. And there was, as well, a questionable guilt in Mal's chest when she saw Morgana's haunted expression.

This would soon be over, Mal forced herself to think, unable to pinpoint why she suddenly felt remorseful when she was doing a favor to those kids.

A few days in the past Mal had found herself walking through the boisterous dining room, mainly in an attempt to make sure the kids were behaving and no one would be injured. Coincidently, she had found a piece of chocolate in her right pocket, part of a complete bag of treats that Carlos had somehow sneaked into her suitcase.

Mayra had called her then, asking something about the name of a fruit she had not known until then. It had been a strawberry.

Perhaps it was the stupid nostalgia that kept sending her memories back to Auradon, perhaps it was Ben's voice echoing in her head. Whichever happened, Mal found herself pulling two more chocolate pieces from her pocket and offering them to the kids.

Later that day Mayra had asked her to give her one more chocolate before leaving Bargain Castle. 'For her mother', she'd said. Mal had complied, thinking that the girl only wanted to have another candy, which Mal couldn't blame her for. Big was her surprise, however, when, as soon as she saw Morgana, Mayra ran over to her and, like she had promised, handed over the brightly wrapped sweet.

"Morgana," Harriet said then, snapping Mal out of her thoughts. "You once helped my family. Do not think we have forgotten. We intend to repay our debt."

Morgana nodded stiffly, her grayish hands wrapping around herself. And just like that, they were gone, Harriet Hook putting her vast knowledge about ships to a good use now that she had finally someone to share it with.

"They will be looked after," Mal offered to the awkward silence, not sure of what had moved her to do so.

"I hope so. Either way it will be better than being here, right?" Morgana let out in a small voice. "Listen, Mal, I... I wanted to thank you. For all of this. For returning."

"I haven't done anything. I am simply an envoy of Auradon."

"I don't believe that. Auradon hasn't raised a finger to help us in twenty years," the woman denied. "It would be very odd to think that they suddenly decided to add these modifications, unless there was someone willing to carry them out."

"I am merely carrying out with my duty," Mal shrugged once more, her eyes unwilling to meet Morgana's.

"Is it selfish, Mal, if I wish for them to forget this place, but not to forget me?"

"Pardon me?"

"It's just a question, you can answer whatever you want," Morgana let out in a thin voice.

"Why would you even care?" Mal nearly laughed.

"You know, we're not all as bad as Auradon makes us look," Ursula's sister offered. "You do not spend twenty years trapped in a place like this and remain the same. No, you must change―for worse or for better."

"That is extremely hard to believe, Morgana, I hope you are aware of that."

"You mother may be different, but I assure you that some of the inhabitants of this place have come to genuinely care about their children," Morgana explained slowly, heavy intakes of breath marking her rhythm. "I never spoke much to your mother, she thought I was too weak, too insignificant. I don't blame her. She preferred my sister, like everyone else."

"She preferred herself in the mirror. That's the only thing she ever liked," Mal snorted.

"Perhaps," the woman conceded. "I... I can show you how to tell them apart, the ones who care from the ones who don't. This is all I can give."

"I sincerely don't think any―"

"You're taking them out of here," Morgana said. "And I already owe you more than I can pay back. This is all I can give you."

"You owe me nothing because I only came here to carry on with my duty," Mal tried to stop her, before Morgana counterattacked.

"Then take my words to Auradon, to someone who can put them to a good use," the woman offered with something akin to a smile in her thin lips. "The ones who want you to get their children out, those are the ones who love them. And the ones who want to keep them here, regardless of the... of the obvious lacks of this place... those are monsters."

"Why would you tell me this?"

"Because you think no one here cares for their kids, but I do," Morgana answered without missing a beat. "I want to know what comes of them, now that I... now that I won't be able to see them anymore."

"Why would I―?"

"Take care of my kids," she cut her. "They're good children. That's all I'm asking from you."

"I'll treat them like I would anyone else aboard that ship," Mal replied sternly. For a brief moment, neither of them dared to add anything, much less to move. Finally, after a few seconds, Morgana gave a stiff nod, her lips firmly pursed.

"That's more than enough," the woman said at last, before she turned on her heels and disappeared into the crowd.

After Morgana left, Mal took a moment to steady her breathing, her head pounding like it had ever since the new barrier ordeal. She wanted to think Morgana had lost her mind. The woman had never been very stable, from what Mal had heard, and she could only guess what twenty years in the Isle had done to her reasoning abilities.

Yet, try as she might, whenever she attempted to brush away Morgana's emaciated countenance of her mind she was instantly brought back to the feeling of Anastasia's icy fingers clutching at her wrist.

"Are you supposed to be staring at nothing in particular or...?"

"You see, after having waited for you to appear for almost an hour, I grew tired, you know?" Mal quickly reacted, turning back to face Doretta, the second of Dizzy's sisters.

"You've handled sixteen years here. I'm sure that a few more minutes won't do much of a difference," she smirked, her eyebrows raised unamused-ly.

Before Mal could answer, she caught a glimpse of blue in the corner of her eye. Great. Wonderful moment for Hades to reappear.

"Get on the ship and shut up," the daughter of Maleficent growled instead, which only enlarged Doretta's cat-like sneer.

According to her list, there were at least fifteen more kids missing. And now she had to deal with Hades. They hadn't even left the Isle yet, and Mal was ready to growl out in frustration.

For a moment, Mal thought Doretta would argue with her, but the daughter of Drizella merely studied her for a second, shoulders hunched, as was easy to see given the sleeveless crop top she was wearing. At last, Doretta let out something similar to a sigh and fidgeted with the handles of her bag.

"I'll get on the ship, but I don't promise anything about shutting up," she offered cheekily, winking charmingly eye at Mal.

"Then get going," Mal grumbled, only half-listening to Doretta.

As soon as the young girl was in the wooden staircase of the ship, Mal turned her full attention to Hades and Ginny, walking over to them with a clear goal―getting rid of Hades as soon as possible.

"You're not allowed to be here," she said, clenching her fists when she was within Hades' earshot.

"Is that so? Or do you just feel a strong dislike for me in particular?" the god questioned, almost pouting at her. "Though I find that extremely hard to believe because, Maleficent, we're good friends, aren't we?"

"You and I are acquaintances, at best," Mal grumbled.

"What a terrible character you have," Hades deadpanned. "Gin here is nicer, you could afford to learn from her."

"Yeah? The pot calling the kettle black," Mal scoffed. "Get out of here."

"Not so soon, sweet pie!" Hades laughed manically. "Remember I had put a seat on layaway?"

"And I told you you weren't going anywhere, remember that?"

"Oh, don't make this personal!" the god crackled. "I'm not talking about me."

Mal wanted to say that she did not believe her eyes. Had someone approached her to tell her that the following would happen, she would have huffed in annoyance. However, it was hard not to believe oneself when she not only saw what was happening, but also felt it.

With a wicked smile, Hades snapped his fingers. For an instant, time stopped, the tingling in Mal's skin confirming he was using magic, more magic than Mal had been able to wield since rearranging the barrier. She was so caught up in her relief at the sensation that Mal didn't notice the ground had started shaking until she heard Ginny's shriek. Behind them, the waves of the sea became restless.

"What are you doing?" Mal hissed, her eyes trained on Hades'.

"You see, sweet pie, it occurred to me that a little... display would ease your worries about my honesty," he laughed. "At least now you know I can perform magic here."

Mal knew she shouldn't have done it, not after the pain her magic ―or her lack of it, thereof― had been giving her. Something was true, regardless―Mal had never been someone to shy away from a challenge.

If Hades wanted to play with magic, Mal had magic of her own to seize with his.

With a deep in-take of breath, Mal summoned her own power, raising her right hand in front of her. She started with her fingers stretched out, until she slowly began to close her hand, a wave of raw puissance burning in her chest as she did so.

By the time her hand was completely fisted, Mal's breathing was ragged, her vision turning blurry at moments. The shaking of the ground had almost stilled. The small earthquake didn't seem to be causing Hades much of an inconvenience, Mal noted. Instead, his smirk only turned a tad more sinister.

"You never know when to stop, do you, Maleficent?" he crackled.

"Stop?" Mal panted. "We're just getting started here."

"Allow me, I think we're done," the god said, before proving Mal wrong once more as he incremented the power he was stamping into his movements.

Hades' magic was raw strength. Untamed and millenary, Mal could do little to nothing against it.

The change was immediate―as soon as the words had left the god's lips, the shaking of the floor under their feet was reassumed. The magic Mal had contained until then returned to full strength now that it was backed off.

For as long as she'd been in Auradon, Mal had been trying to get used to her own magic, to a limp that she hadn't know she possessed until mere months in the past. She had read about magic, she had heard Evie rant about magic, she had breathed and manipulated magic until the foreign strength in her hands was second nature.

Yet, when Hades' force hit her, there was no way she could have battled against it. Instead, Mal felt her own magic shifting in an instinctive reflection. She couldn't compete against Hades, and now that said statement was a fact, Mal's magic reacted turning into a shield around her, deciding to protect its host rather than continuing a fruitless attack.

Hades' magic was wild, so unlike the soft sparkles of the Fairy Godmother that it was hard to believe they were the same thing. Hades' magic was vigorous, unyielding, yet playful, instead of Maleficent's angry waves of power, tentacles of dark power that wanted to destroy. Yes, Maleficent had strategy, she had never been one to braise for a fight without being sure she'd win, but she didn't have much else.

Maleficent's magic was simple when compared to Hades'―she was predictable. The only thing Maleficent wanted was to rescind, to set ablaze everything around her until the very same people who had underestimated her were begging for an inexistent mercy. With Hades, Mal didn't know what to expect.

"Like I said, Maleficent, I think we're done here," the god spoke up again, before one final wave of magic hit the ground under their feet. Mal was so tired that she let him do, planting her feet firmly on the floor so that Hades' power wouldn't make her fall instead of attempting a counterattack. Behind her, Ginny did trip.

And through it all, Mal knew that Hades was holding back. He was being mischievous, letting reckless magic play around him. Mal supposed he was only having fun, after having bottled the remnants of his Olympian magic for so long.

There was an instant of buzzing noise in her ear after Hades' magic receded. Breathing heavily, Mal let down a shaking hand to rest by her side. It took a moment for her sight to clear.

"You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you had accepted your defeat from the beginning," Hades offered, running a blue hand through his ablaze hair. "Enough of this already. Maleficent, Gin, allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Haidee."

Mal, who was still trying to catch her breath, raised her gaze to meet Hades. Her left hand was pinching at the bridge of her nose, and perhaps that was why it took so long for her eyes to focus.

When she finally did, Mal almost wished she had remained ignorant―standing next to Hades, with her head bowed down stood a girl. She looked young, not older than fourteen, with light-violet skin and a thin tunic that, unlike Hades', was a shiny white. Absently, Mal thought that it didn't look like hand-down clothes. In fact, Hades' tunic looked fairly new as well.

Mal presumed the girl had long hair, or at least very thick locks, as she had tied it into a complicated bun, placing a single white flower in the middle of her hair-do.

"You weren't lying," she let out, her most expressive thought.

"Really, child, you're such a fan of making things more complicated!" Hades dramatically rolled his eyes. "A simple phone call to Sephie would have earned you all of this trouble."

"Dad, there was no need to break a crack in the ground just to bring me here," the girl argued, her voice sounding like wind whistling through the branches of a tree. "You could have saved yourself a lot of energy too if you had let me walk."

"But you needed a memorable entrance, darling, we've talked about this," Hades brushed off, turning back to Ginny and Mal.

"Am I to assume your wife is this Sephie person you're talking about?" Mal questioned, too tired to even wonder about the crevasse in the ground. This was the Isle, and a split in its shore wasn't her problem. "The goddess of death?"

"Persephone is also the goddess of spring, you know? It's hard to get rid of old habits," Hades explained lazily. "Worry not, you mortals rarely get the chance to see us in your miserable lives. I am sure you won't even meet Sephie."

"I'll keep that in mind," Mal shrugged. It wouldn't be worth it arguing against Hades, she decided at last, especially not after seeing how easily he had defeated her even in his weakened state.

"Good. Now, Maleficent," Hades continued. "I am trusting you with my daughter's safe arrival to her family."

"Family is not word you hear in this place," Ginny said, staring intently at Hades now that she was standing up again.

"Well, they say there's a first time for everything, don't they?" the god counterattacked. "Besides, you are going to a place where it's widely common, so I'd suggest you get used to it."

"I'll have to say he's actually right on this one," Mal sighed.

There was a moment of silence in which Hades merely smirked at them, his left eyebrow raised as if he were expecting something from them. Finally, Mal realized he was waiting for her to say something.

With another sigh, Mal hefted her options. She could refuse to take Haidee with her and risk Hades' wrath. She could comply and do what the god was asking from her, although she didn't feel very attracted to that possibility.

On the other hand, neither did she feel like disobeying her orders and straightforwardly ignoring that girl plainly because her father had been a little indiscreet. To be fair, Hades, unlike a good number of the other villains, had never been disrespectful to her. Sure, Hades was extra and a bit overwhelming, but, until then, he hadn't lied to her or approached her with ulterior intentions.

In the end, what made her decision was a sense of duty that she was still trying to get used to―it made no sense to preach Auradon wanted to improve the children's life conditions and then reject someone based on their parentage. It would be stupid for her to refuse Haidee a place in her ship because she had argued with her father and then expect Auradonians to be welcoming towards the children, all thought of their parents forgotten.

"Get on the ship, Haidee. If nothing else happens we should be on our way soon" she rolled her eyes gesturing to the anchorage.

"Thank you, sweet pie. I knew you'd be understanding," Hades laughed, his left hand firmly placed on his daughter's shoulder. "My wife will take care of her, worry not about finding her a surrogate family."

Worry not, Mal grumbled, turning down to her watch. Worry not.

In the end, it turned out that being on Hades' good side wasn't a misguided decision after all, as he resulted unexpectedly helpful when it came to directing Mal to the children that hadn't arrived to the dock on their own. He also seemed strangely eager to withhold Hans, former prince of the Southern Isles, when Mal forced him to hand over his young son, Henry. And a little magic was certainly useful when Mal forced Desiree and Shui to leave their houses.

Mal handed her last badge a little before two thirty. They were two hours late, but she couldn't have cared less―the fifty three kids who would be her responsibility until they reached Auradon were on her ship, bags in their hands, knowing where they were going.

This was it. No more beating around the bush, no more postponing or avoiding issues. Before long, all of them would be seeing the Fairy-Tale-Land with their own eyes.

This was it, Mal sighed. The hard part of her job was done.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

Okay, so... this is it for now! Big chapter coming soon! (Please note I said 'big' and not 'long' because this shit is already longer than I thought it'd be!) And... the next chapter will definitely be the last part of the introduction before we finally get to focus on the children's stories.

If you guys want to know what the goblins' names, please comment and I'll answer. Umm... also, if you're uncomfortable with me not adding the specific warnings at the beginning of the chapter, please, please let me know and I'll start doing it. Yesterday, after having read this thing for maybe four or five times I realized I hadn't mentioned Daryn even once and I had to add her. So what I'm trying to say is that I am a forgetful person and that if I don't add those notes it's not because I don't care about it, it's because my memory sucks.

In other note, I usually don't read fanfics with OC's, because I think that you're reading fanfiction because you still want to close these characters close to you and you don't want to let them go, but... this story is different. Most stories with a similar theme I've seen focus on the kids being confused about whether or not if they want to be good. Or they want to take over Auradon, that too. So I want to apologize for my own hypocrisy, because a good number of the characters in this story will be OC's. But, to be fair, I also tried to keep all of the kids who were still at the Isle.

Also, I know I said I wouldn't take into account the characters or the situations that came up in the second and third book or in the second movie, but again, I just fell right into my trap. In my original plan, Drizella had no kids, but after watching the second movie I fell in love with Dizzy. She's such a sweet kid and she looks so excited and joyful despite the Isle that I just couldn't keep my heart to myself and I decided to adopt her into this madness. Parallel to this, I also read thatoneshippyblog's headcanons for the second movie and I realized that in the first book it was stablished that Anthony had "several cousins". So... as you know, the idea of the barrier impeding people within it from dying is not mine, but thatoneshippyblog's, so I added some of her headcanons to this story, for example, the several cousins and Dizzy's full name, Desideria.

So, this is why I kept Dizzy but Uma, Gil and Harry won't appear, and this is also why I gave Hades a daughter instead of keeping the son that appeared in the second book. I've been planning this story for over two and a half years and I wanted to keep Hades because I love him, but the "Return to the Isle of the Lost" still hadn't come out, so... yeah, I'll stand by my word that I'll only take into account the first book and the first film, with the sole exception of Dizzy.

On the other hand, and as my beautiful beta pointed out, we know so little from the canon characters that they're basically OC's too.

Without further ado, I'll add the list of kids and their ages. Oh, actually, I'd forgotten to mention that I changed some of the ages! This is mostly because it was fitting for the story, but also because it bugs me to have a sixteen-year-old to become the ruler of such a humongous kingdom. I know that, historically, there have been four-year-olds as sovereigns, but we all know they didn't really do the ruling part. Besides, it seems so stupid to me that Belle and Beast are both young, healthy and capable but they still gave up the kingdom and handed it over to their teenager son. Auradon is this bizarre place that is both modern and ancient, so, yeah, in the sixteen century no one would have batted and eyelash at such a young king, but we would certainly do so now.

So, to summarize, I changed the ages because it was convenient for me and for the story. You will learn why at some point. Now, the list!

Chad, the Gastons-19 Ben, Shun (son of Shan Yu), Yzla (daughter of Yzma)-18 Jay, Mal, Claudine (daughter of Claude Frollo), Shui (daughter of Shan Yu), Desiree (daughter of Drizella)-17 Evie, Ginny, Harriet (daughter of Captain Hook)-16 Carlos, Hilda (daughter of Helga), Doretta (daughter of Drizella)-15 Freddie, CJ (daughter of Captain Hook)-14 Jamie (son of Captain Hook), Dizzy (daughter of Drizella)-12 Melvin (son of Morgana), Dizzy-10 Dulcie (daughter of Drizella)-9 Henry (son of Hans)-7 Mayra (daughter of Morgana)-6 Sammy Smee (son of... Smee)-5 Daryn (daughter of Drizella)-3

Umm.. these are all the kids I can think of for the moment. Tell me if you want me to add the hero kids as well.

Also, apart from writing Disney fanfiction, I've also done some beta-reading of it and... I want you all to know that geminalupus has this wonderful story called "Scars Revealed". If you have enjoyed reading my story, please be sure to go and check hers out, especially because she's currently working in a sequel of this fic and I'm so excited!

This is it for now... read you soon!

#The Ones Who Wander #Descendants #Descendants 2015 #Disney Descendants #fanfiction #Forgotten characters #Isle of the Lost #Mal #Evie #Ginny Gothel #Disney

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