The Entire Structure Of Any Multi-paragraph Post Of Mine

“Hey, mom?” Diego asked, peeking into the kitchen where Grace was humming, mixing a bowl of cookie dough.

“Yes, Diego?” she said without looking up.

“Um…” he stepped into the kitchen, taking a few steps towards the counter, “c-can I help make cookies?”

Grace paused, looking up with a bright smile, “Of course. I needed a pair of strong arms to help me mix this together. Why don’t you finish and I’ll prepare the pans?”

Diego walked around the counter and took her place, taking the spoon from her. He struggled a bit at first to mix together the dough before he got the hang of it.

His face was scrunched up in concentration and Grace gave him a fond smile, starting to hum again.

The cookies turned out perfect. And Diego remembered the way Grace ruffled his hair, handing him one, still warm from the oven.

“Well done, Diego.”

-

Diego felt it coming on. The panic, the tightness of the throat, the rapid beating of his heart, the overwhelming anxiousness that seemed to blanket him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, humming the familiar tune. The same one he’d heard Grace hum hundreds of times before. And he thought of that time, the delicious cookies, and how happy he was to make Grace proud.

Slowly, his anxiety faded enough for him to relax.

He missed his mom. But she would always be with him. No matter what.

La Mort de la Sirène (Angel of Music, Harry Hook x Fem!OCReader) - Chapter Six

Hi guys here is chapter six, its a bit shorter than the rest, but chapter seven is going to be quite long so hopefully that will make up for this crappy chapter. Let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist! Also there is some French dialogue in the chapter and I provided the translations at the end of the post.

Summary: Azalea explores the Isle during the daytime, seeing familiar faces and new ones along the way, but just as Harry predicted good things don’t last on the Isle.

Warning(s): Sexual References, Angst, Language, Terrible Writing (sorry)

Word Count: 2736

Lees verder

We finally meet Echo! :)

I didn't have as much time as I thought I would this week, so have a sketch with some colors slapped over it... sorry :|

Also, I think I settled on a name for the fic. Does "Raising Dominoes" sound okay? In any case, here's Chapter 5 - Echo, I hope you enjoy!

Prologue: 00 Previous Chapter: 04

Summary: Rex and Fives visit Echo in the ICU.

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse, missing limbs, hospitals

Chapter 5 - Echo

The waiting room was packed with people. Even though he had told Cody to go home earlier that morning, Rex made a quick scan for him, but it was too difficult to see over the hordes of visitors and patients. Fives was also looking around the room fervently.

“Rex, sir?” The boy asked straightening up and squaring his shoulders to address Rex.

“Yes, little soldier?” Rex joked, guiding Fives towards the front desk.

“I don’t see Echo.”

“Echo is in one of the rooms back there,” Rex explained, pointing to the door leading to the rest of the hospital. “This is the waiting room. It’s for people waiting to get help or people waiting to see friends or family in the hospital.”

“Do we have to wait here to see Echo?”

“We’ll see,” Rex said as he approached a young man behind the desk.

The man looked up and smiled, “Hello, how may I help you today?”

“We’re here to get Echo,” Fives piped up in a slightly more authoritarian tone than Rex would have expected from him.

“Echo Se, we’re here to see him,” Rex clarified, ruffling Fives’s hair.

“Right, of course, sir,” The man behind the desk nodded, but paled a bit and shifted forward in his chair to see Fives over the desk.

“Problem?” Rex asked, raising a brow.

The man smiled nervously, “We don’t allow children under the age of 12 to visit patients in the ICU, sir.”

Shit. Rex hadn’t thought about age limits on visitation. He looked down at Fives, then gritted his teeth and leaned in closer to the man, “Look, they’re twins, and I promised he’d be able to see him today.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the man replied still hiding behind a false smile. “It’s hospital policy. For the health of our patients and your sons, I can’t make an exception.”

Rex sighed, moving away from the man. He was right. It would be bad if Echo got sick in his condition. But, had Cody not said Kix thought they could visit? Maybe he could drop Fives off with Cody and visit Echo and have them face time, or-

“Rex!” A familiar voice cut through his thoughts.

Rex’s eyes shot up as a lean man with an intricate buzz cut pushed through the doors leading to the ICU, “Kix!”

Kix’s white coat billowed out behind him as he strode over to the desk and smiled down at Fives, “And this little one must be Fives.”

Fives tried to mirror Kix’s cheery expression but fell short as his attention turned on the door swing shut behind the man. To quell any temptations of running off through the ICU looking for Echo, Rex put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Kix walked behind the desk and leaned down to whisper something to the man. The clerk’s face turned a little pale as Kix pulled away to smile at Rex and Fives, but he nodded and began typing away on his computer.

“I cut a little deal for you two,” Kix said, motioning for them to follow him through the door.

Fives looked up at Rex and Rex nodded his permission to follow Kix into the ICU. The boy smiled and ran to catch up.

Rex looked over at the clerk. He was deliberately avoiding eye contact and his hands trembled at the keyboard. Rex sighed out a sympathetic “thanks” to the poor man before following after Fives. He sometimes forgot how scary Kix could be.

The ICU was full of doctors, nurses, technicians, patients and visitors, and others Rex couldn’t quite place. Most moved with purpose and didn’t give the trio a second glance, but a few workers shot Kix inquisitive looks. None of them approached them though.

They took a few turns before Kix stopped outside a bathroom and ushered them inside, “We have to get all cleaned up before we see Echo.”

Fives nodded in understanding and began washing his hands at the sink. Rex and Kix joined him and soon Kix was ushering them back out the door.

“Now Fives,” Kix started as he stopped again outside a room. “I know it’s going to be really hard, but it’s important that when we go in to see Echo you don’t touch anything, okay?”

Fives nodded.

“No touching any of the machines and definitely no touching Echo.”

Fives looked up at Rex before turning back to Kix and nodding again.

“It’s because he had a lot of surgeries and if he got sick or hurt right now, it would be really bad, so we don’t want him to get sick because we spread him our germs.”

Fives nodded again.

“And it’s really important if you start to feel sick that you leave the room as soon as you can and try to make it to the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Fives said in a small voice.

Kix nodded and opened the door, walking in before Fives could sneak his way past, and situating himself in the far corner of the room.

After Rex shut the door behind him, he was met with a dim room, the only light coming from behind closed blinds and the lights on the countless machines hooked up to a small body lying on the bed under papery white sheets. Fives stood motionless at the foot of the bed. Rex made his way over to the boy and put his hand on his shoulder. Fives looked up and Rex saw tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Here, come here,” Rex said softly, picking up the boy carefully.

As soon as Fives was in Rex’s arms, he wrapped his limbs around him, holding on for dear life and trembling with each sob. Rex stepped over to a chair at Echo’s bedside and sat down, carding his hand through Fives’s hair as he held him.

At Echo’s bedside Rex had a much better view of Fives’s sleeping twin. They looked identical, the only differences being Echo’s slightly shorter hair and the noticeable lack of lumps under the covers where his legs and right arm should have been.

Fives sobbed into Rex’s shirt loudly and Rex grimaced, “How are you feeling, Fives? Do we need to step out for a bit?”

“N-no!” Fives shouted, squeezing Rex harder.

At Fives’s shout Echo’s whole body seemed to convulse and Rex looked to Kix, thinking maybe the boy was having a seizure. Kix didn’t look up from Echo’s body, but he also didn’t move to help, so Rex turned his attention back on the boy in the bed. His eyes were open now, but looked glassy and unfocused, staring towards the ceiling. He looked dead.

Fives’s turned his head from Rex’s shoulder to face his brother, “Ech- Echo?”

Echo’s eyes didn’t move, but he did open his mouth in response, and panicked but hoarse and weak words spilled out, “We- we need to get to the wall to escape the citadel. No. I’ll go first. No. No. No! N-”

“Echo,” Rex interrupted softly as Fives buried his head back into Rex’s shirt and let out a wave of fresh sobs.

The boy stopped babbling, but his breathing became more and more labored.

Rex wanted to pull the injured boy into his embrace as well, but refrained, “Fives came to see you. Fives is here.”

Rex extracted Fives from his torso and turned the boy around so he would be facing Echo before placing him back down in his lap.

“Fives…” Echo said drowsily, almost as if he were in a trance.

“Echo, I’m here,” Fives said tenderly, though his voice was still shaky from the tears.

“Fives.”

“I’m here.”

“Fives?” Echo shifted his head and locked eyes with his brother.

“Eh-Echo!” Fives tried to reach out to his brother, but Rex restrained him. “You’re okay!”

Echo flinched away from the noise and Fives looked from his brother to Rex with a hurt expression.

“It’s too loud for him,” Kix explained. “Sometimes that happens when you hurt your head. We just need to be quieter.”

“Sorry,” Fives whispered.

Echo turned back to Fives, brow scrunched and eyes searching his brother’s face, “What- what happened? Where are we?”

“You got hurt,” Fives supplied. “We’re in the hospital.”

Echo began to look panicked.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Rex said. He needed the boy to hear that, even if he probably didn’t believe it yet.

Surprisingly the words seemed to calm the injured boy down, so much so that he drifted back off to sleep.

Fives twisted to look at Rex, confused, “W-why’d he go back sleep? He- he just woke up.”

“He has to get a lot of sleep right now because his body is healing.”

Fives turned back to Echo and Kix walked over to the bed and adjusted the blankets to fit around the boy more snuggly.

“Should we let him get his rest?” Rex asked the doctor.

Kix nodded, “We can talk in the waiting room with Cody if you want.”

“Cody’s still here?” Rex said incredulously, standing with Fives in his arms to follow Kix out the door. “I told him to go home and get some rest.”

Kix shrugged, leading them out into the hallway, “I told him the same thing.”

The trio made their back to the waiting room quickly and found Cody dosing in one of the corners.

“Cody,” Rex said as he sat in the free seat next to his brother.

Cody woke with a start, then locked eyes with Rex, “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”

Rex shrugged, “I told you to go home anyway.”

“Didn’t want the kid to be alone.” Cody looked from Rex to Kix, “How is he?”

Kix crossed his arms in front of him and leaned against the wall, “All things considered, he’s doing really well.”

Fives looked up at Rex from his perch on his lap, eyes full of hope.

Kix continued: “The good news is so far the surgeries seem to have gone successfully and he appears to be on the mend. We have him on a morphine drip for now to keep him comfortable, but I’m hoping we can get the dosage lower soon. The broken ribs and concussion all we can recommend is rest. For the legs and arm, once he’s feeling well enough that he can stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time, we’ll start physical therapy. It’s going to be a long and painful road to recovery, and even with the best of the best, there’s no guarantee he’ll ever walk again.”

Rex and Cody nodded simultaneously with matching grim expressions.

“When can we- When can he leave?” Fives asked, looking to Rex for the answer.

Rex looked to Kix, who responded to the boy in an even tone, “We’d like to get him moved to the regular part of the hospital in a few days. Then he’ll probably stay there for around another week if things continue to go well. After that he’ll be able to go home.”

“Can we see him again?” Fives asked in a small voice.

Kix smiled, “Once we move him to the hospital you can visit him any time you like. Does that sound okay?”

Fives nodded.

“Do you have any other questions?”

The boy shook his head slowly.

Rex had so many, but he was not sure all of them were suited for Fives’s ears, so he kept his mouth shut and shook his head, “Thank you, Kix.”

“Don’t mention it,” Kix smiled cheekily. “It’s my job.”

Cody snorted.

Kix pointedly ignored Cody’s obvious eyerolling, “If anything comes up, you already have my number.”

As Kix weaved his way out of the waiting room Cody stretched back in his chair and turned to Rex, “How’s everything going with you two?”

“Good,” Rex said, looking down at the small boy in his lap. As Kix would say, all things considered, things were going surprisingly well. Fives seemed to trust him—as long as he wasn’t yelling at him—and was fairly easily calmed down with physical contact. Rex could tell Fives was a good kid and already knew he would do anything for the boy’s happiness.

Cody nodded, then turned to Fives, a slight upturn to his lips, “He treating you okay?”

Fives nodded vigorously, “He let me sleep in a real bed and we made pancakes! Do you know what pancakes are?”

Cody’s eyes flicked to Rex’s for a millisecond in what Rex could only assume was horror, before they focused back on Fives, feigning innocence, “No. What’s a pancake?”

Five’s face lit up, “It’s a food that you make from a box. You mix it all up and then pour it in a pan and you get to flip it! Then you eat it when it’s done. And you get to put syrup on it!”

Fives was breathless by the end of his choppy explanation.

“Was it good?”

Fives nodded in an exaggerated movement.

“I’ll have to try it sometime then,” Cody said, standing from his seat.

Rex stood as well, depositing Fives at his feet, “Echo’s in good hands, you should go home, Cody.”

Cody nodded, “What’s your plan for the day?”

“Give you a ride back to the station, then I think we might go to the store and get Fives and Echo some things they’ll need.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Cody praised as they walked towards the exit. “If you need any help, Kix said Hardcase is suspended again this week. Give the kid something to do.”

Rex searched Cody’s face for any hints on what possibly could have happened this time, but Cody just shook his head sadly.

Rex sighed, “We’ll pick him up on the way to the mall.”

@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny @tearfulsolace @rndmpeep @brokenphoenix99 @nerdy-valkyrie @xylionet @tazmbc1 @eyayah123

Awakening (Angel of Music, Harry Hook x Fem!OCReader) - Chapter Five

Hi guys! Sorry this took so long, definitely didn’t post it as soon as I wanted but it’s still dark out so let’s pretend it’s on time! I hope you guys enjoy!! Let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

Summary: Harry and Azalea stumble deeper down the rabbit hole of their relationship, an interesting reunion plays out, while tensions heat up the Siren and Pirate. While across the seas a realization has Fairy Godmother shocked to the core.

Warning(s): Language, Mentions of Blood, Sexual Tension

Word Count: 4,380

Harry Hook was a drug. Azalea simply could not get enough of him. Her half an hour trips were filled with wandering hands and kisses as she was pressed up against the closest withering dead tree. She felt like she was flying when she was with him, her heart threatening to burst at the seams. The pull to each other only intensified, an unquenchable thirst had them counting the seconds until they would see each other again. She was head over heels for the Pirate, her buried feelings bubbling over the rim. Azalea had never felt more alive, but that statement could be taken for what it was, the poor girl had not experienced much. Harry had never felt so happy? He could not find the correct words to describe the pounding sensation he felt in his heart every time he looked at Azalea or the way his heart almost hurt when he kissed her and when she would whisper his name between those kisses. His chest was always tight when they were apart, like he could not breathe until she was back in his arms. It was an odd situation and new feelings were arising in them both, but they both welcomed it with open minds. The two were not easily separated either. Every night proved difficult for Azalea to return home, “One more” turning to dozens of kisses as Harry’s arms stayed locked around her. A Pirate and a Siren, the irony was not lost on them.

A week since the night on The Lost Revenge, Harry returned to Ursula’s Fish and Chips, the motley crew still hanging there in the absence of their Captain.. His lips were still swollen, a result of spending his past half an hour with Azalea at their secret cliff, as he walked through the shabby seaweed green swinging doors entering the restaurant. He checked his sword into the barrel and sauntered over to the counter, hopping over with ease. He plopped down next to Gil, the boy still choking down yolks. Cook emerged from the kitchen handing a tray of fish and chips to Harry, before bustling over to deliver more trays of slimy seafood to villainous customers. Harry picked at his tray besides Gil, the two of them silently eating, as the obsolete television droned on about “VK Day”, the picking of next four set to occur in a little over a month. Harry still felt that Azalea should apply, he did not feel like an important enough reason to stay.

“I said together or not at all” her breathing labored and swollen lips parted as she was flushed against Harry’s body and the rough tree bark. “Don’t let that go to your massive ego either, I’m not leaving my parents”. Harry opened his mouth to argue her reasoning and her statement about his ego, but her soft warm lips pressed against his once again, silencing the Son of Hook immediately.

Harry, of course, did not want Azalea to leave, but the selfless thought kept eating away at the back of his mind. Harry knew things between them were going well, too well, and life was bound to throw him a curveball soon. Nothing good ever lasted for the Pirate: his mother, his childhood friendship with Azalea, the attempt to get the wand, even his Captain was gone. The Isle ruined everything and everyone Harry came in contact with, he feared for Azalea. Nothing good survived the Isle.

An hour later, most of the crew had left, going on their assigned routes, back home, or to the ship. Harry and Gil remained at the Chip Shop counting the revenue collected on several of the crew’s routes, conducted earlier in the night. The task proved to be difficult, neither of the boys knowing how to count very well. “Hey who was that girl the other night on the ship, the one with the cool mask?” Gil buzzed attempting to stake the rusty coins into a looming tower. Harry’s head snapped up, how did Gil know about her? “You - You saw her?” Harry quizzed surprised, Azalea had not mentioned meeting the blonde boy, but then again the two did not talk much that night. “Yeah man, she disarmed me of my sword and then I showed her to your room!” Harry narrowed his eyes at Gil, his face scrunching up confused, there was a lot to process in that sentence. A random girl, to Gil, showed up, disarmed him, and he showed her to Harry’s room, no questions asked? Harry opened his mouth to chastise the boy, but loud clanking metal pulled both of their attentions away from the conversation and to the flimsy doors. Harry heard the clanking continue, the sound of swords clashing, before a loud disgruntled groan was heard. Harry curiously jumped over the counter, the movement knocking down Gil’s coin tower, earning a “Hey!” from the Son of Gaston. Harry ignored his First Mate, rushing out the door, grabbing his sword from the sword check barrel in the process. Outside the fishy restaurant was an unkempt filthy Pirate down on his knees, an unpolished blackened sword pressed to the back of his neck while a shining freshly sharpened sword was pressed to the front of his neck. A small stream of blood trickled down his prickly neck as a hooded black figure held the swords keeping the Pirate down. “I dare you to finish that sentence” the figure seethed, Harry instantly recognizing the otherworldly voice, a proud smile appearing on his face. “What’s this lass?” The hooded figure’s head shot up the white mask, belonging to the girl he adored, reflecting Ursula’s glowing eyes on it. Azalea’s hardened eyes melted at the sight of the Pirate in the red leather jacket, an almost wicked smile creeping onto her lips. “Ol’ pegleg here made a very crude remark, decided to show him that’s no way to treat a lady” she smirked pressing the swords tighter around the one legged man’s throat. Harry’s smirk dropped at her words, a menacing look taking over, his blue eyes darkening as his anger and mild crazy took over. His grip on his hook tightened strutting over to the grounded pirate. Harry ran his hook across the man’s face, a look of fear already existent. Harry looked to Azalea nodding for her to remove the swords. She immediately drops her tight stance, tossing the pirate’s blackened sword over the docks and into the sea below. Harry lifted the man up by the lapels of his jacket, “If ye even look at her again,” Harry grinned maniacally, accent thicker as he returned his hook to the man’s dirty face trailing it down his neck, “I’ll do more than just hook ye, I’ll feed ye to the crocodiles!” The man nodded rapidly, before Harry finally let him go.

The man quickly limped away as Harry turned to look at a smiling Azalea, his dark crazy edge creeping away at the sight. “The crocodiles huh?” Harry rolled his eyes at the girl, Gil’s head popping out of the restaurant, curious as to why Harry had not returned yet. “What happ- Hey! It’s you again!” Gil grinned rushing out to greet Azalea. “Hi Gil” Azalea giggled as the blonde Pirate scooped the Siren up into a bear hug. “Harry, this is the cool girl I was talking about!” Harry scoured at the sight before him, he was not used to Azalea being around anyone, he always had her to himself. “What are you doing down here Lass?” Harry grumbled, practically pulling the curvy girl from Gil’s tight grip. Azalea laughed turning to the obviously jealous Harry, a small pout on his lips. She was apprehensive to dish out why she had snuck out and down to the docks in search of the young hook wielding Pirate. What if he did not want to? What if he laughed her face? The Isle was not exactly the place where this occurred.. She bit her lip, her brown eyes shifting over to watch an eavesdropping Gil, unsure whether to tell her reasoning with him around. After all, Harry had a reputation to maintain… Harry caught on to her flickering eyes and cautious silence, instantly shooing his First Mate away. The Son of Gaston frowned, “Bye masked girl” “It’s Azalea” she corrected him. Harry sent her a questioning glare, what happened to the Mysterious Siren who wiped memories from the Market almost 3 weeks? “What? He’s a friend Harry” Azalea threw back, eyebrows raised questioningly. Gil smiled at her words, “Well, bye Azalea!” “Bye Gil!” Once he stepped back into the Chip Shop, Azalea turned to Harry, a nervous smile on her face. “My mom wants to meet you...again” she clarified watching Harry’s face. Harry’s eyes lifted in surprise, not what he had expected, and they furrowed along with his dark eyebrows. “How did she find about-” Harry gestured to the two of them, last he knew Azalea had not disclosed the recent development in their relationship to her mother… yet. Azalea rolled her eyes as she pushed her leather hood off, sweeping a mass of curls off her shoulders, Harry’s eyes trailing down her neck. Three small purplish red marks adorned her pale skin, “these are kinda a dead giveaway”. A prideful smirk worked its way onto the Pirate’s face as he lifted his cold metal hook to carefully trace over the sensitive skin. “I’m sorry Lass” Harry’s pleased grin, looked anything but. Azalea squinted her eyes at the devilishly handsome Pirate, her drug, the sarcasm oozing from her next statement, “Oh I’m sure you are”.

Harry never thought he would ever be in this position, especially on the Isle. They boy was almost nervous as he treaded up the now familiar pathway, the next afternoon. He had raged turf wars less frightening than this, kidnapped the King with ease and confidence. That was his area of expertise, he was good at being bad, but this was uncharted terrain. How bad was he going to be at trying to be good? Harry’s boots crunched on his way through the poorly plotted out tombstones, not a single straight line or clear direction found amongst them. “Look at what the crocodile dragged in!” Harry looked up at the second chained iron gate, seeing a white and black clothing smiling figure. He smirked observing the unmasked girl on the other side of the gate, “Look at what the chandelier dropped in”. Azalea’s eyes widened at the mentioning of her father’s infamous evil act, dropping the massive chandelier on unassuming opera patrons. “You did not just say that” Azalea laughed. “Aye Lassie, you started it with Tick-Tock” Harry quipped back as Azalea unlocked the gate for him to enter. Harry slid through, a nervous smile on his face as he looked down at the equally nervous Azalea. She quickly hopped up placing a quick peck on his lips, before asking “Are you ready?” “Nope” “Yeah me either”. The two interlocked hands and headed up to the small hidden house.

Opening the door, the basically empty house made Harry’s eyebrows furrow, “um?” “I told you looks could be deceiving!” Azalea smiled pushing the rusting white fridge to the side, revealing a hidden stone staircase underneath. “What the fuck!” Harry eyed the staircase an impressed look crossing his face. Azalea gestured for him to follow her as she started her descent down the stairs. At the bottom, a warm glow welcomed them along with a soft singing voice. Exiting the small hallway, Harry gaps at the magnificent stone cavern before him. Hundreds of candles burned creating a warm light around the whole house, the layout open exposing almost every corner of the house, besides the two closed doors diagonally across the house from each other. There was a slight exposed upper level, a kitchen in the far right, an organ in beautiful condition in the room next door. Before him was the empty living room, the furniture worn but not abused and ruined. Like many villains on the Isle, their homes were transported here when they were banished. His father and mother had the Jolly Roger, Maleficent had Bargain Castle, and the Phantom must have gotten his hand carved stone house from beneath the Opera House. On the upper level, just to his left and up the small staircase was a cluttered room with an equally cluttered desk and bookshelf. The singing woman stood before the bookshelf, placing a few books back onto the almost full bookshelf. “This is amazing” Harry announced gaining the attention of the curly haired woman. “Harry!” She grinned excitedly, a slight accent detected amongst her voice, as she rushed down the small steps on his left. The woman threw her arms around him pulling him into a tight embrace. “Mom!” Azalea exclaimed blushing embarrassed. “Sorry” Christine stated pulling back to examine Harry closely. Christine looked almost the same from when he was a boy: wearing white, her brown curls pinned back, her peachy lips stretched into a grin, and her brown eyes glistening. Harry knew where Azalea had gained most of her beauty from. The only thing new was the slight grey strands hidden in her curls and the wrinkles forming around the corners of her eyes. “I’m so happy you came” she announced. Harry nodded in response unsure of what to say, afraid of saying the wrong thing. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Christine continued softly, “I’m so sorry about what happened when you were a boy, I should’ve stepped in, fought harder against it”. Harry recalled Christine’s distraught face from that horrible day, the Phantom’s determined protective one surfacing too. Harry had wanted to be mad when his memories first returned, but Azalea’s presence seemed to simmer the urge that night. Perhaps he had missed his forgotten friend so dearly he did not want to waste time, or it was the alluring attraction between them that dowsed the anger. His kohl rimmed eyes flickered over to Azalea’s hopeful expression before returning back to Christine’s sincere eyes. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” The words felt foreign on revenge filled Harry’s mouth, but they were sincerely true, it was not Christine’s fault. The Phantom would of made sure it happened despite his wife’s retaliation, the fear for his gifted child too strong.

Christine’s smile widened, nodding softly as a silent understanding passed between them. Christine turned to her daughter, her practical spitting image, “Show him around while I find something for us to eat”. Her mother climbed back up the stairs, walking around to the far right where the small marble kitchen was. Azalea nodded at Harry, queuing him to follow, as she walked across the living room to one of the closed mahogany doors. Azalea opened the large door stepping inside, Harry following suit. It was a decent sized bedroom, bigger than anything Harry had ever had, with a large red circular bed pressed against the back wall, cream colored curtains draped around it, and small window above it. Harry smirked at the window, knowing precisely how the little sneaky Siren escaped at night. Harry looked at the white desk, sketches and books scattered it, right by the door and the chipping white wardrobe on the other side of the door. Next to the wardrobe was a small fireplace chiseled into the stone and a small black chair, a black leather violin case seated carefully on it. “This is my room” Azalea shrugged. The room was as elegant and alluring as the girl beside him. “Ah, so this is where you lie awake at night thinking of me!” Harry teases earning a soft punch to his left arm. Christine eyes the pair from the kitchen, their electric current pulsating strongly before her knowing eyes. The same undeniable chemistry between them, as from when they were children, only now it was stronger, a sleeping bud bursting into bloom. Her husband’s overprotective face popped into the Soprano’s mind, a problem the happy two would inevitably have to face, but not today.

Azalea pushed her hair forward, hoping to cover any marks Harry may have left in his awake, during their nightly “meeting”. She descended down the stairs, pushing the red button to once again conceal the staircase, and entered the living room where her parents sat waiting. Her mother looked at Azalea’s flushed skin, messy hair and swollen lips, a knowing smirk on her face. Christine, perhaps, should have been more concerned with the recent development in Harry and Azalea’s relationship, but the hopeless romantic knew the two of them could only be kept apart for so long. Today’s secret lunch had only confirmed her 11 year suspicion, Harry Hook was her daughter’s True Love... She had never told Azalea about her theory, afraid to cause her daughter even more heartache, but now that they had found each other again, Christine knew she had to find a way to tell her. Erik, was living in an ignorant bliss as to his daughter’s appearance. She was not bloody and injured, that was the only thing he noticed. “No incidents Papa” Azalea smiled leaning down to kiss both of her parent’s cheeks, ready to climb into her comfortable bed. “Angel would you sit down for a moment?” Her father asked, tone unreadable. Azalea eyed her mother nervously, had he found out about Harry? Her mother discreetly shook her head no, reading the terror in the girl’s eyes. Azalea internally let out a sigh of relief, she was not ready for that conversation argument with her father. She sat down on the couch next to her father waiting for him to delve into his announcement. “I’ve been thinking, you have been doing exceptionally well during your night trips. Perhaps it may be time to try something new…” Azalea looked at her father questioningly, would this affect her time with Harry? “Tomorrow afternoon I am allowing you to go down to the center of the Isle for an hour”. The shock rang through the house, Azalea and Christine both stunned by Erik’s words. A slow smile worked its way onto Azalea’s face the realization hitting, “Papa really?” Before the unmasked man could even respond, Azalea was tackling him into a hug. The man laughed returning his daughter’s eager embrace, he knew he needed to loosen his leash on her. He trusted her, truly, but he did not trust the world. His daughter pulled back hopping over to her mother excitedly. He eyed the almost unrecognizable girl besides him, wondering where the time went. What had happened to his small 4 year old chubby daughter, who sat with him at the organ, singing the sheet music before her with ease? What happened to the child he caught wearing his mask, pretending to slam down on the organ keys dramatically? Where was his toddler who used to run through the stone house, giving him a heart attack at every sharp turn and stumble? She had matured and transformed into a woman overnight. He looked to his beautiful daughter, the one he so desperately wanted to protect and hide from the harsh world, but a bittersweet feeling came over him. She did not need his constant protection as much...

The old clock that hung from Azalea’s wall read 3:15 a.m., she was tossing in bed, an odd warm feeling falling over her. She was so thrilled that her father was finally trusting her to go out during the day, she could not wait to see her Pirate. The warmth in her body seemed to catch ablaze at the thought of Harry. She wanted, NO, needed to see him. Azalea threw the covers off her, climbing out of bed, and headed to her wardrobe.

Harry could not explain the feeling inside, the odd drive pushing him to the graveyard. He felt as if he could not breathe, needing to see the Siren, who he had luckily already seen twice today. Harry was not sure how he was going to get through or over the large locked gate, but he was determined to try. Creaking metal hinges, pulled the Pirate’s head up, someone emerging from the graveyard. The black cloak and white mask made his lungs feel even tighter. The Siren was dressed in a faded black puffy pirate shirt tucked into a dark red skirt, her signature white missing. She was dressed in his colors, Harry groaned his ocean eyes shifting to a stormy blue. Azalea finally looked up seeing Harry’s intense gaze and frozen white and black figure in front of her. His signature red jacket missing… “What are you doing here?” Azalea sounded breathless, the strong force making them both take a large step closer. “Had to see ya, can’t explain it” Harry panted, practically sweating despite the Isle’s signature cold nights. “Me too” they both stepped closer at her response, only a few feet left now in front of them. “This isn’t some Siren call is it?” Harry tried to tease but it came out choppy and almost desperate sounding. “No why would it be affecting me too?” The air between them was stifling as the heat radiated off of them, polluting the night. Azalea and Harry watched each other the pull becoming harder to resist. Two magnets when in close proximity will actually draw each other in, until they connect. Harry and Azalea practically fell into each other's arms, kisses sloppy and misguided. Azalea ran her bare hands through Harry’s dark messy hair, tugging gently on the ends. Harry let out a pleased moan, muttering “cliff?” Azalea pulled back, her mask hiding her deep blush, “I was thinking your room?”. Harry’s eyes widened, inhaling sharply, were they really taking that step? He observed the girl who turned timid underneath his gaze, her lips red from his mouth. A Pirate and a Siren, how ironic. Harry nodded slowly dipping back down to kiss Azalea feverishly. Harry would let her lead him to his demise any day…

The next morning, the Daughter of Maleficent, sauntered through the empty halls of Auradon Prep. Summer was in session, the students returning home for the two month break. Excluding official Royal business, Mal did not expect to be back at Auradon Prep so soon after graduation. Ben, Jay, Evie, and her had just graduated a few weeks prior, the group clad in long blue gowns and caps. Mal smiled at the memory, she never thought she would have gotten here. Mal stopped outside the large extravagant hand carved Teakwood door, the blue and pink sign reading, “Head Mistress~Fairy Godmother”. Mal knocked heavily, hearing a “come in” shouted from the other side. Mal opened the door poking her purple head through the door first, “Hi Mal!” Fairy Godmother greeted ushering for the girl to enter fully. “Hi Fairy Godmother, you wanted to see me?” The woman in light blue sat behind her teakwood desk, more hand carved designs embellishing the wood. “Yes dear, I’m afraid I need your help identifying two people.” Mal furrowed her eyebrows at the odd request, moving to stand by Fairy Godmother’s side. The Headmistress handed Mal a grainy photo taken from a surveillance cam at the Isle’s Docks dated for last week. The two unidentified people were villain kids, a Pirate in a red leather jacket adorning a hook and a girl in a black hood and a white mask covering most of her face. “That’s Harry, Son of Hook and I’ve never seen the girl before, but I can only assume she is the rumored child of the Phantom.” Mal concludes placing the photo back down onto Fairy Godmother’s desk. “Rumored?” Fairy Godmother questioned looking down at the photo again, the blurry white mask almost taunting the woman. “Every villain has a kid, but we only ever saw him. But he bought a lot of fabric and food for a man of such a thin build.” The Headmistress nodded looking off into thought. “Did they do something?” Mal pondered, wondering why exactly the woman had requested an audience with her over something like this. She expected more VK Day preparations… Fairy Godmother looked back up at Mal, “do you recall Good Use of Magic class?” Mal nodded, vaguely remembering the class from her first year at Auradon Prep, waiting for her to continue. “Well remember when we discussed the topic of True Love’s aura?” Mal nodded once again, “Yes and how it is unseen to many”. “Yes well, it first shows up on my radar,” Fairy Godmother tapped her computer screen, “ when they share True Love’s First Kiss and then continues to emit the aura for the rest of their days.” Mal continued along with the woman’s brief history lesson, wondering how this related to Harry and the masked girl. “Every True Love couple has a special personalized colorful aura, like King Ben and yours is Royal Blue and Purple. Theirs,” her light blue manicured finger pointed at the picture, “is Red and white”. Harry Hook has True Love? Wow they really do mean there’s someone for everyone! “It’s rare that True Love is found on the Isle, True Love is pure and good.” Mal silently agreed, despite for the rare exception, the Isle was not good or pure. “No offense Fairy Godmother, but that does not exactly explain what they did?” The Headmistress sighed, looking over at her dark computer screen. “ I receive an alert every time True Love is found, this time it was on the Isle. I’ve only seen a couple True Love’s on the Isle, one being this girl’s rumored parents.” She stopped to clear her throat and Mal was ready to beg for a clear answer. “When one or both of the True Love’s possess magic their aura is stronger than non magical pairs. You possess magic abilities hence why King Ben and your aura is stronger. Theirs is strong too.” “Well I can guarantee you Harry Hook does not possess any magical abilities besides perhaps insanity.” “Then it’s her” Fairy Godmother whispers looking concerned. “What?” “Their aura should not be this strong on the Isle, unless… Bibbidi-Bobbidi!” A realization struck Fairy Godmother, stunning her in her blue swivel chair. “Unless what?” Mal pestered.

“She can access her magic on the Isle.”

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The director of cybersecurity from the Electronic Freedom Foundation is offering to help women who have been threatened with compromise of their devices.

I struggle thinking about non consensual human experimentation as a whole, but what happened to Bucky really it does just make me sick.

To start, think of how his stomach dropped when he fell from the train, the fucking fear knowing you're dead. You have 2 seconds and then your dead, this is it.

Then you wake up to 1) being alive, horrifically unaware of the 70 years of hell ahead of you and 2) your arm being not only surgically removed but replaced with a metal arm, a foreign body, a parasite. You fight because what else are you ment to do? But you fall unconscious again.

You wake up to days and days of torment and torture and slowly loose hope that it will ever end, that you'll ever be saved. He didn't know that Steve was dead, how long did he yearn for Steve to find him? How mad did he get? Did he punch the wall, did he scream? Did they have to sedate him because of just how psychotic that made him? How fucking manic he would go?

How long till he lost all feeling, all emotion and hope?

When they started putting him in the chair, did he scream and cry? Did he beg for anything else? Any thing, anything, fucking anything. Did he beg for death? Did he feel himself slowly lose all of his memory, did he sob when he first couldn't picture Steve's face, or when he could remember the most important person in the world, but not a name or a background or a face, not a crumb.

The first time he's put in cryo freeze, does he remember his reflection? Seconds before he fell unconscious, never knowing how long it would be before he woke up again. Did he wake up, begging to just be put back in, the closest fate to death he could ever achieve? The closest thing to mercy? Does he catch himself falling asleep at night and wake up in tears, not even sure if it's been 20 minutes of 20 years.

Did his crys for help fall on the shiney leather shoes of scientists who showed no emotion, did he question if he was even human to begin with? Surely a human would be treated with even a fraction of care. No one treated like this was born from a mother, no one treated like this was ever looked at with maternal love.

He stopped feeling like a person, he didn't even remember he was a person. When things seeped though it just hurt, they hurt him, it made it worse. So he stopped it, he wouldn't let himself. It was impossible to live. He had no coping mechanisms, no outlet, he would show any signs of struggle and be hurt for showing humanity. He had to be what they wanted.

Even after he was broken in, no crying anymore. No begging for mercy. Did he spend his nights awake, just TRYING to remember what he forgot, FEELING the missing spots in his mind? Did he hold that metal arm close because he can't even remember how he got it anymore, all he knows is it makes his shoulders ache.

He was completely and utterly trapped, the more he suppressed, even the minor shards he remembered, the more mania he would experience.

Even once he's free, how do you come back from that, even if it was just a mental thing, the physical, real DAMAGE to his brain was enough to make him never heal again. Bucky is a walking fucking miracle and maybe THE survivor.

He is going to have memory problems, severly. He is going to have intense PTSD flashbacks, total hallucination level, breakdowns. Seriously, this level of trauma is NEVER leaving him, not fully. Phantom pains, endless nightmares, coping mechanisms that don't make sense but comfort him none the less.

He's going to have periods of times where he can't even stand being touched, not Steve, not anyone. Weeks where he can't shower or move out of a space his brain has deemed safe for fear of being hurt. Scratches at the seam between his flesh and the metal of arm, wanting it off, wanting it away from him. Again does it necessarily make sense logically? NO!! but does he feel it 100%? Yes!!

He gets better, his bad periods get less intense, more far in between but they never fully go away. As fuckimg depressing as it is, hydra made a permanent mark on his psyche. It's FUCKED.

Gods strongest soldier is Bucky Barnes.

So we had to write a short Airbnb ad for my English class (I'm Dutch by the way) and we have this saying for when you go for a walk when it's windy, "uitwaaien" or translated "to blow out". This was a warning our book gave us before we started writing the ads....

The story behind the ring

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Why didn't they just go to Wakanda in 2018 and rip the gauntlet off Thanos, since apparently it doesn't matter if your past selves see you anyway.