Latest Posts by bookmoonwolf - Page 4

Find What You Love, and Let It Kill You… (Sir Gwaine x Fem!Reader Series Masterlist)

When Gwaine meets a mysterious woman who challenges him in every way possible, he doesn’t expect to fall for her so quickly. But here he is, head-over-heels for a woman he doesn’t actually know anything about, but who he’s about to discover is connected to a past he’s long since buried.

• This series is ongoing! Last updated - 07/10/19.

Act One

ONE: Soulmates

TWO: The Thing About Old Ghosts, Is That They Always Come Back To Haunt You…

THREE: Nobility

Act Two - Five Years Later

FOUR: I Know When You’re Around, ‘Cause I Know The Sound Of Your Heart.

FIVE: Loyalty

SIX: For You, I’d Win The War.

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A MESSAGE FROM THE THE TEAM + FIXED MASTERPOST OF MERLIN 6: KINGDOM COME EPISODES

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

This Christmas marks five years since the finale of BBC’s Merlin aired, and this spring will mark three years since we created this account and posted the first episode of our sixth season to share with Merlin fans around the world. Still we continue to receive messages of gratitude and praise for the scripts, and we are humbled as ever by the effect it has had. It is fans like you who keep the magic alive.

It has come to our attention that some of the links on our blog have not be working for everyone. Here is a redo of our masterpost for those who have had trouble with the first. The anniversary of Merlin’s finale seems an appropriate time to pass these scripts around again for those who would love to re-experience the adventure, or those who have not joined in on the journey.

IMPORTANT: On our youtube account, we have edited and uploaded soundtracks to accompany your reading of the script. Soundtracks will be indicated by the red numbers in brackets that appear at various points in the text (example: [1] means play soundtrack #1 on the episode playlist). We strongly recommend using this prepared playlist while you read, as it helps to complete the experience of watching a real episode on TV (really, it makes all the difference in the world!). Everyone’s reading pace will be different, but we did our best to time each track to the pace of each scene.

Summary of Merlin 6: Kingdom Come Fifteen hundred years after his death, the Once and Future King finally returns. But he finds himself confronted with a new world that is entirely unfamiliar. What’s more, centuries of waiting for Arthur’s return have rendered Merlin traumatized and struggling with inner demons. Aided – and opposed – by familiar faces from their past, the King and his trusted warlock must face a cabal of adversaries led by an ancient Judge who intends to undermine any attempts to fulfill Arthur’s final destiny. But how will they secure a promising future when history is fighting to repeat itself?

Episode 1. “Rise and Shine” Playlist

Episode 2. “A King Without a Kingdom” Playlist

Episode 3. “The Madness of Merlin” Playlist

Episode 4. “Their Sound Shall Reach the Stars” Playlist

Episode 5. “The Witching Hour Part 1″ Playlist

Episode 6. “The Witching Hour Part 2″ Playlist

Episode 7. “The Servant King” MID-SEASON FINALE Playlist

Episode 8. “The Good Knight” Playlist

Episode 9. “The Sole Equality” Playlist

Episode 10. “Witch Hunt” Playlist Episode 11. “Slings and Arrows” Playlist Episode 12. “Judgment Day Part 1″ Playlist

Episode 13. “Judgment Day Part 2″ Playlist

The 10 Best Merthur FanFics I Read In September 2019

(in no particular order) (Also I count the remix and it´s original as one and the series as one, as I could not decide what to not include)

With this Ring (by marguerite_26)

Unter is enchanted and he forces Merlin and Arthur to marry. Apparently, Uther is very happy about that.

It Didn´t Mean Anything (by ingberry)

A modern AU in with Merlin has magic (known by the others) and works at Arthurs “Camelot Inn”. He accidentally enchants them to be kinda bound together for a few days. Very cute :)

And here is it´s remix:

It Meant Something (by fifty_fifty)

This is the remix. It takes place in canon era. Arthur doesn´t know about the magic here. Also very cute :)

Love Potion Number Nine (by Clea2011)

(Also a remix. The original is “Shy”) Takes place after the Princess Vivian incident. Camelot is infested with love potions and kinda everyone falls victim to it. This was hilarious and adorable.

a slip of the hand (by Mslmpala67)

Merlin touches Arthur just a little when he dresses him. And over the time he grows bolder. This is just a short read but very enjoyable - and also very cute.

Arthur Pendragon and the Perfect Servant (by Clea2011)

This takes place in A Servant Of Two Masters. It´s from Arthurs perspective and amazingly funny. Arthur hates George - obviously - and now he has to spend the day with him…. :)

Someone Special (by teprometo)

Modern AU. Merlins older brother has a really hot mate… Arthur. Smutty and very enjoyable.

In Your Shoes, in Your Heart (by Mischel)

This was amazing. Merlin and Arthur swap roles for a day because that is a tradition once a year in Camelot. And so Merlin is the price for a day and Arthur is his servant. (Such a good idea, I really loved this one)

Linger On Your Pale Blue Eyes (by supercalvin)

This a touch-fest fic. Arthur is very touch-starved but he is the prince and he denies himself all things affectionate and such. Good thing Merlin is there :)

roses are red/ so´s Arthurs face (by platonic_boner)

This is hilarious and it was a reread for me. Arthur and Leon experience an accidental bodyswap. Arthur who is already involved with Merlin fears his beloved will know. So he instructs Leon to act as “Arthur” as possible. (There are suggested poetry lessons and such ) Very funny :)

Dirty and Perfect, We Are Not In Love, Find Me And Follow Me

This is the Dirty and Perfect series by orphan_account. I count it as one story. There is a podfic for the first one, but not for the others. The first one is just a little hook-up story with a very weird twist (almost made me not read it further.) but It actcually grew better and better as the story progessed. The secone one is about both of them thinking how disgusting this was - but also how they can´t stop thinking about this weird incident. And the third one - well this would be a spoiler so I won´t go into that one now.

Everyone who’s been talking to me knows i’ve been working on this comic about wlws and cats for a while and i’m so so happy it’s finally here!!! :D

idea stolen from this post :’3

i love taking the idea of “the serum gave steve better muscles and better senses” and just pushing it just that little bit into uncanny valley territory. he can see very slightly into the ultravioliet and infared spectra, moves/thinks quicker than normal people (hes conciously slowing himself down a LOT bc he knows it freaks people out) and is just. really strong. all of him is very strong. he can open a can of beans with a fingernail. 

This was so hard! I’ve been tracking and reading LGBTQA+ books for 10 years and picking 3 for each was tough! There are so many more I love so if you have specific ones you are looking for, or want more in these sub-genres you can totally ask me for recs. I’ll do my best.

fanart credit: @ace-artemis-fanartist

Below undercut is the Goodreads links to these books:

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Hey guys!

I decided to make a list of my favorite books and series, just for future referance I guess. I will be adding onto this list in the tag #rems fav books

Also also, I’m gonna start talkin about books a lot more because people in the real world get annoyed when I do and :) i can just block you :) so that’ll be under #remi reads or #remi reviews

I would say these have an order, but they really don’t

- The Ladies Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Makenzi Lee

- The Symptoms of Being Human by Jeff Garvin

- The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

- The Shades of Magic series, by V. E. Schwab

- You Asked for Perfect, by Laura Silverman

- The Martian, by Andy Weir

- Bag of Bones, by Stephen King

- Elevation, by Stephen King

And for nostalgic reasons,

- Harry Potter, by J.K. Rowling

- A Tale Dark and Grimm, by Adam Gildwitz

- The Owl Keeper, by Christine Brodien-Jones

It’s October! You know what that means... 🎃 (via kxvo)

a lesson on nonbinary individuals and why we feel the way we do about numerous basic things, such as the mere fact of our existence and our pronouns.

being multifandom sucks because I’ll see a post talking about Peter and I’m like: peter pevensie??? peter parker??? peter pettigrew??? Peter Pan??? simon peter chosen disciple of our lord Jesus Christ??? op you’re gonna have to be more specific

I have never laughed as much while watching a drama as that one moment in Rookie Historian Goo Hae Ryung episode 13 when one of the translators asks the Western man “waarom ben je naar Korea gekomen?” (why did you come to Joseon?) in the BEST and funniest accent I’ve ever heard.

Then, the answer “I don’t speak Dutch” made it 10 times funnier. I would never have even imagined to hear people talk about the Netherlands in a kdrama, but a historical drama?? Set in the Joseon era?? I was completely blindsided. I must’ve replayed that scene at least 5 times.

I don’t know if people know it on here BUT I’m actually from the Netherlands and Dutch is my first language!! It’s such a small country so whenever someone even mentions it I’m amazed. So the MOMENT he said that sentence I completely lost it. Well played, Rookie Historian Goo Hae Ryung.

-,’ types of people ,’-

hogwarts: bloody noses, always trying their best, warm sunsets, late summer nights, sharing secrets, messy hair, movie nights, stargazing, wanting to explore the world, standing up for friends, dogs, loud laughs, fuzzy sweaters

narnia: pale white snow, red cheeks, hot tea, fantasy stories, neat notes, big scarves, early morning walks, soft smiles, cute coffee shops, calming energy, cold hands, friendly eyes, wanting to learn more, astronomy geeks

middle earth: ancient souls, coffee, old bookshelves, history nerds, loves mythology, feels at home in the forest, always up for an adventure, oversized hoodies, high grades, striving to be the best version of themselves, cats

neverland: believes in fate, doesn’t care about opinions, flower fields, standing up for what’s right, honey, photography, amazed by the universe, kind souls, often lost in their own thoughts, friendliness, loves the stars, artistic

In reference to this post, I do legitimately wonder what exactly Nick Fury’s expectations of Steve were.

Assuming his two primary sources for Steve Rogers Anecdotes were Howard and Peggy (and I think they were), there’s no way he would have gotten anything approaching an accurate account for who Steve was as a person.

I honestly don’t think Howard knew Steve well.  All his reminiscences are going to be fundamentally colored by the fact that, despite the epiphany he comes to in the S1 finale of Agent Carter (he says something like, ‘he was good before I got my hands on him, wasn’t he?’), Steve’s successes as Captain America are in part his successes because he helped make Captain America.  So all the stories Howard could tell Fury (and, sorry about your horrible childhood, Tony) are going to portray Steve in a very specific way, turning him into the ultimate war hero, the ultimate super solider, the ultimate weapon that Howard helped create.

I doubt Peggy’s telling a lot of truths either but for different reasons.  Or, well.  Peggy doesn’t lie about Steve, but there are certain things she doesn’t say about Steve.  Because everyone knows and mourns Captain America, but she’s one of a small handful of people who actually mourn Steve Rogers.  There are things about him she keeps private and safe for herself.

Like the fondue story?  I am positive that never made it into the global Captain America narrative.  I also don’t think it’s a story Tony or Sharon ever heard.  Howard doesn’t tell it because it’s not a Cap Story, it’s a Steve Story, and Howard’s far more interested in the former than the latter.  Peggy also doesn’t tell it because it’s a Steve Story, and the world isn’t owed any more of Steve Rogers than they already have.  They can keep Captain America, but Steve is hers.

But I honestly believe that if Nick got half a shot of whiskey in Colonel Phillips, he would spend literal hours dragging Steve Rogers through the mud.

“Rogers?  Biggest pain in my ass that ever lived, and that’s before Stark and Erskine got their god damn hands on him.  I’ve had a hemorrhoid or two tried to compete, but nope.  It was Rogers.

“That son of a bitch probably spent six weeks AWOL altogether thinking he knew better than me, the SSR, and all the Allied powers put together.  At the end of it, he’d come into my office, stand at attention, salute.  Then I’d maybe get one ‘yes sir, no sir’ out of him before he started arguing with me about whatever damn fool thing he’d just done.  Which, I shouldn’t have to tell anyone, is not how the god damned United States Army works.  Rogers never did manage to grasp that concept.

“Don’t ask me about vehicle requisitions.  I don’t even know how many cars those idiots wrapped around how many trees.  I finally had to order the motor pool to stop giving him motorcycles at all.  He kept throwing them at the enemy.  That worked for maybe a month.  He started stealing them, and I gave up.

“Once I ran into Barnes just staring at a wall looking whey-faced, terrified, and madder than a hornet.  So I said, “What did that captain of yours do this time?” and he says, “He charged a fucking tank,” and I say, “Of course he did,” and he says, “Dumb bastard wasn’t even wearing his helmet,” and I say, “I don’t understand how you kept that boy alive long enough to con his way into the army in the first place,” and Barnes says, “You’ve got no god-damned idea, sir, you really don’t.”

“You know Carter shot at him once?  I’ve never envied another human being so much in my whole life.

“Steve Rogers gave me most every grey hair on my head, don’t you let her tell you any different.  I had a full head of thick black hair in 1943; by ‘44 I looked like someone dropped a pound of drywall on top of me.  I aged a year for every hour I spent in Rogers’s company.  When I die, if the coroner doesn’t list my cause of death as Steven Grant Rogers, it’ll be god damned perjurous.

“I could have court-martialed that jackass on at least 16 separate occasions, and we wouldn’t have won the war without him.  God rest the son of a bitch.”

….so we have to assume that Fury never talked to Phillips I guess.

BUT OH GOD DO I WISH HE HAD

Writing Prompts

1. “Back on your bullshit so soon? I thought we would at least get a day.”

2. “Haven’t you heard? I’m elegant as fuck now!”

3. “Why would I care what other people think? They aren’t the ones I have to live with, I’m the only one I have to live with.”

4. “Listen to me, I love y’all so much but, y’all can be so stupid.”

5. “Does your plan include times for snacks?”

6. “I’m just saying, this could go a lot faster if I just punched them in the throat.”

7. “So, don’t be mad but I accidentally summoned a demon and he’s in the living room. But he’s nice and has a cute dog too!”

8. “I was told to create tomfoolery and so tomfoolery I shall create. *Pterodactyl screeches.*

9. “You’re an assassin who knits? Honestly, that’s cool as hell!”

10. “You can literally scale buildings and fly airplanes and shoot things with deadly accuracy but, somehow you can’t whistle?”

chasing the ocean pt. 3

author’s note: this is kinda where things start to pick up between them and shows their interactions

word count: 1398

WARNINGS: light swearing, tension, anger ig 

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Masterlist

PROMPTS

Harry:

You’re My Future 

Nightmares

Princess’s Don’t Punch

The Lone Wolf

Just A Bad Day

Return to the Isle Part One Part Two

Fuck, I Love You (Smut)

Don’t Be Mad

You Aren’t As Smart As You Seem, Are You?

Like Father, Like Son

Dr. Hook

Trick or Treat (Halloween)

Gil:

A Helping Hand 

I’m A Daddy?

What’s Meant to Be, Will Be

A Tale of Two Beasts

Awkward Admissions

Bad Day Lovin’ (Smut)

Birthday Bonds (GilxOC, nonromantic)

Uma:

A Little Bit of Chaos

Mal:

Evie: 

Dentophobia (a personal imagine)

Ben: 

The Jealous Beast (Smut)

Jay:

Protecting the Flower

You Don’t Like Him

But Jay! 

It’s About Time

For the Love of Sports (Smut)

Carlos: 

Villain’s Best Friend 

Puppy Love

The Inner Isle’s Spy: Chapter One 

Naissance de l’ange (Angel of Music, Harry Hook x Fem!OCReader) - Chapter Seven

Hi guys, sorry this chapter took so long, but I hope nonetheless you all enjoy it! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Summary: Things on the Isle turn sour as the events of Descendants 3 begin to play out, with a twist of course. 

Warning(s): death mention, Language, D3 spoilers(?), angst, poorly written (sorry)

Word Count: 8210 (OOPS)

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Writing Prompts

“Oh sure, blame the murderer! Y’all suck!”

“Take it from someone who just blew their rent money on shoes, live your life.”

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but hey, we now have a dog!”

“I’m not crying, it’s the onions I swear!”

“Listen to me very closely! You. Are. An. Idiot.”

“So what you’re saying is murder is definitely not up for discussion.”

“Well, think of it like this, even though you majorly screwed up everything, your dog still loves you.”

“Hey! Give me back my breadstick you heathen!”

“You left me alone with your cat and needless to say, they strike fear to my very core.”

“Talking? To people? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“That crocodile has some serious moves dude, look at him go.”

“‘Don’t poison the mayor, stop stealing from flower shops, don’t rob banks’, you’re no fun to be around.”

“I can sense I already don’t like you.”

“No dabbing at the wedding ceremony.”

“So I brought the snacks, who we murdering tonight?”

Anti anxiety.

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

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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.”

Taglist:

@ietss

@stevenrogerscarter

@saxgirl21

@falling-stars-never-cry

... You Are Not Alone (Angel of Music, Harry Hook x Fem!OCReader) - Chapter Four

Hi guys sorry for the delay of this chapter it took me a bit to type it up! Hope you guys enjoy and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Feedback is always appreciated!

Summary: The announcement of VK Day on the Isle, leads to tense relations between the Pirate and Siren.

Warning(s): Nightmares, Mentions of death, angst, Language(I think I can’t remember)

Word Count: 4064

Lees verder

God Give Me Courage to Show You... (Angel of Music, Harry Hook x Fem!OCReader) - Chapter Three

Hi guys! I hope you guys this chapter, it’s a bit slow had to do some catch up and story building! Nonetheless I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want to be put on the taglist!

Summary: Azalea reflects on the night she first saw Harry in the market as well as the night on the cliff after Harry’s memories are returned. All while, Azalea and Harry begin to become friends again, growing closer. The scales are tipping though, bound to fall one way or another.

Warning(s): Language, angst(?), Sexual Tension (?)

Word Count: 3423

A week and five days ago

Azalea ran through the shadows of the Isle away from the Market, away from him. She could not believe it, after all this time, after her couple harmless trips down to the Market and Barrier Plaza, there he stood. It had been 11 years, a month, and 8 days since she had last seen him, standing in her meadow, but she recognized him right away. His ocean blue eyes, with the slightest hint of green hidden in them, were all it took. She knew those eyes like the back of her hand, they have plagued her dreams all these years. The dark red jacket and gleaming silver hook were only additional facts that confirmed her thoughts. It was Harry…. Her Harry. The boy from her field, her only friend, the one who still owned a piece of her heart. The one who did not know she existed, or at least did not remember. She slowed down her stride, stopping in front of the rusted black iron gate that led into the cemetery. Checking her surroundings she found the coast to be clear, her father always warned her to be certain she was not being followed. Looking over shoulder needed to become second nature, if she were to continue being allowed out. After years of begging, becoming skilled in sword fighting, and learning how to harness her voice to perfection, did her father finally grant Azalea to take nightly trips down to the center of the Isle. They were only trial runs of course, her father giving her a strict 30 minute window. After 18 years of solitude, she took 30 minutes in a heartbeat. Meandering through the multitude of tombstones, Azalea reached the second iron gate, the lock and chains still in place. Azalea knelt down, sticking her black gloved hand down the side of her left black leather boot, retrieving the brass key, the head shaped like a skull. A literal skeleton key… Placing her roses down as she stuck her arms through the gate bars, she picked up the black lock on the other side. Unlocking the gate, Azalea unraveled the chains just enough for her to maneuver her wide hips through. Once through the gate she rechained and locked it, turning to march through the crunchy grass to the small house. Azalea’s eyes roamed over the meadow, Harry’s frozen figure replaying in her mind. Her fingers began to itch, the desire to commit her memory of the pirate to a piece of paper arising within. Opening the front door to the house Azalea looked around at the dusty bare room, not a sign of life in sight besides the lonely broken wooden chair in the far corner straight ahead and the rusting white refrigerator on the wall to her left. Her boots clicked against the dirt covered concrete floor as she approached the fridge. Azalea placed the dead roses on top of the fridge before placing her hands on the left side of the dated appliance. Planting both of her feet firmly on the ground as she pushed the fridge to the side, revealing a set of stone stairs underneath. Letting out of a huff of air, Azalea grabbed the roses and descended down the steps. At the bottom of the staircase, a large red button awaited her, pushing the button Azalea waited until she heard the sound of the metal fridge moving back into place overtop the hidden stairs. She then headed down the candle lit hallway, exiting out into the great stone cavern she called home. Massive candelabras were placed all around the cavern, hundreds of candles lit. A soft warm glow welcomed Azalea home as did the empty living room.

Looking up she saw two distinct figures perched in the music room on the upper level, she turned to the side and trudged up the small hand carved stone steps. Passing her father’s desk and her parents bedroom she neared the soft sound of keys played on the organ. Her father sat at his organ, perfecting a piece of his music, no doubt, and her mother lounged over the black chaise, a small crisp green colored book cradled in her thin hands. Azalea smiled softly, she knew her parents were trying to play busy but she knew for the past half an hour they had been fretting and worrying about her. The Opera Ghost and his bride were still warming up to the idea of their child wandering about the heinous Isle, alone and at night. They simply wished to protect her and her gift, but as their daughter so promptly pointed out they were not going to be around forever unfortunately, and if they were doomed to an eternity on this Isle then she needed to learn how to protect and fend for herself. “Hi Papa” Azalea leaned down to kiss her father’s unmasked face, a normal occurrence in their home, it had been a rule her mother had enforced since the beginning of their marriage, no masks at home. Azalea grew up seeing her father’s deformity and it never frightened her, she found the solid white emotionless mask to hold more terror within it. Her father smiled in return, trying to mask his undeniable worry, the sight of his child unharmed was helping. “Any incidents?” Erik questioned, pretending to fret over his sheets of music. Pausing for a moment, Harry’s matured face popping into her mind, his strong jaw, pink lips, and half crazed eyes that had stared back at her intensely. Her cheeks warmed at the memory of her hugging him, but they soon faded, her eyes watering in the process. She could never be his friend, be a part of his world, not on the Isle. Azalea cleared her throat, trying to swallow the lump in her throat, before noticing both of her parents expecting eyes on her. “Oh sorry, no incidents Papa…” she trailed off looking down to her gloved hands, “I did bring home the best roses I could find though, let me go find a vase for them.” Azalea quickly left for the next room over on the upper level, the kitchen. Upon entering, Azalea let out a sigh, her chest heavy with grief. Christine’s knowing eyes followed her daughter as she left for the kitchen, she knew there was something her daughter was emitting from her night trip, she just hoped it was nothing bad.

Moments later Azalea retired to room, on the lower level on the other side of the living room. She finally felt some sort of relief once the large wooden door was closed and her white mask and gloves were removed, now sitting on her small white desk. She hung up her black jacket back in her wardrobe and removed the small black pins holding her inherited wild curls back. Azalea could barely focus on anything as she changed into her faded ivory nightgown, Harry’s face circling on endless loops in her mind. Of course over the years, she had thought of him everyday, dreamt of him continuously, always wondering how he was, if he was okay, what he looked like. She had gone even as far as begging her father a couple times a year to check on him, her father reluctantly agreed with his own agenda in mind. Her father was a man of pristine caution, examining every detail, hence why he always thought it was a good idea to make sure no signs of Harry’s memory resurfacing ever presented themselves. When her father would get back from his “check ups”, Azalea hounded him endlessly but his reports were always rather dull, “He’s fine”, “Part of a pirate crew now with the daughter of Ursula and son of Gaston”, “Carries an unnecessary hook around with him, rumor is he tried to have a crocodile bit his hand off. I told you that boy was bad news Christine”. Christine only ever rolled her eyes at her husband's antics, along with Azalea. Christine too, loved the updates on the boy, now pirate. She wanted to make sure the Isle had not swallowed him whole. Azalea pulled out her worn black chair, sitting down in front of her desk. Her fingers tingled as she pulled out her small set of charcoal pencils and the stack of paper her father brought her home one evening, whenever he could find the scarce materials. It had been so long since she had drawn anything, inspiration only ever hit after a particular vivid dream of a boy in a meadow. Azalea knew the spark of inspiration she found within could only have been caused by her muse, the pirate who seemed to have captured the ocean within his eyes.

A knock came at her door a little later in the night, before Christine’s head of curls popped through the opening crack of the door. “Mom, why are you still up?” Azalea quickly piled up her collection of drawings and hid them under a book. Her mother swiftly entered the room closing the door behind her layered white frame. Christine dismissed her daughter’s question, eyeing the charcoal pencil in her hand and the easily transferable charcoal coating her daughter’s hands a dark grey. “You’re drawing?” “Inspiration hit” Azalea let out an uneasy laugh, her mother only nodded, her right eyebrow lifting slightly as she moved to sit on Azalea’s circular red bed. “What really happened tonight?” the question struck Azalea cold and still. She looked over to her left at her mother, a “don’t even try to lie” clearly embedded on her face. Exhaling deeply Azalea admitted her defeat, “I saw him”. A small relieved sigh escaped Christine’s mouth, she had automatically assumed the worst possible scenario, but her eyes soon widened at the realization of her daughter’s words. Azalea continued, “hence the inspiration” she uncovered the multiple pages of sketches she had done, all parts of Harry etched on them. Christine leaned over to see the desk and the pages of sketches scattered across it. Christine was used to her daughter drawing Harry, her creative outlet stemming from her husband, but he had always been a boy in the illustrations. These sketches were different though, this was no boy. “He’s quite good looking now” Christine noted examining a sketch of Harry’s matured face, eliciting a quiet laugh from her daughter. Her heart ached for Azalea, the only friend she ever had and quite possibly her daughter’s true love, a part Christine chose to emit from her and her daughter’s conversations about Harry, was never within her grasp. “I’m doing him no justice…” Azalea turned in her chair eyeing her mother questioningly. Christine nodded knowing what she insinuated, “I’m all ears.” Azalea’s nose scrunched up at her mother’s remark before she opened her mouth, hypnotic “Ahhh’s” falling from her lips. Fog whirled before Christine’s eyes before she saw looked to what could only be the rundown Market her husband and daughter talked about. A murky layer seemed to hang over the image before it cleared around a single statue. The statue moved closer and became clearer, proving to be an unnaturally still person. Christine smirked slightly, knowing the person was under her daughter’s all too familiar hypnotic spell. She could now see the person, the teenager who was practically a man. He was tall and lean with layers of muscle bulking him up. He had a sharp jawline and bright blue eyes only being accented even more by the thick black eyeliner smudged over his eyelids. The blackened red leather jacket contrasted boldly against his peachy skin and the infamous shining silver hook in his left hand completed the ensemble. The teenager was clearly the son of Hook, but he had his own personal flair thrown in the mix. Christine examined the boy once over, noting the crazy edge in his eyes and the overall way he held himself, the image feeling familiar. Christine remembered the first time she saw her husband in the hallway hidden behind the dressing room mirror at the Opera House, the same crazed look in his eyes and overall glorious demeanor… The image began to blur and then slip away, returning Christine to her daughter’s bed in her stone cavern hideaway. “So, what do you think?” Azalea questioned, biting her lip anxiously. Christine smiled, a laugh bubbling in her throat. “My dear, I think we are more alike than you know”.

Present Day

Leaning against the rough tree bark, Azalea overlooked the dark ocean, a happy smile on her face as she awaited for her friend to show. For the past five days, Azalea and Harry had met at the cliff, spending half an hour each night trying to cram the last 11 years into it. The night of their reunion, Azalea had sat with Harry and explained how everything he had remembered was true, the conversation had started out shy and hesitant, and a hint of an accusatory tone.

“And why did you have to erase my memory?” Harry had not meant for his tone to be harsh, but Azalea seemed to pay no attention to it as she traced the black lace trim on the edge of her cloak. “Harry I was seven years old, my father told me that people would harm you, I’m sorry but of course I listened.” Harry sighed watching the apologetic girl, her reasoning was valid, but that did not mean he had to like it. The silence that followed was stiff and awkward, neither of them knowing how to further the conversation. They always knew what to say to each other as children, but they were no longer the same children from the meadow. Azalea knew they had only reunited moments before and if they were going to possibly be friends again, they would have to work at it. She focused intensely on Harry next to her, the idea of telling her parents of this recent development did not even enter her head. “So you have a pirate crew?” Azalea chirped up suddenly looking over at Harry excitedly. As children Harry had always talked about becoming Captain of his own crew, Azalea would be his first mate and as soon as they figured out a way off this Isle they would head straight for Neverland. “Aye I’m the first mate” Harry smirked in return. “Not the captain?” she pondered, eyebrows furrowing together. “Nay Uma is, she’s-” Azalea cut him off, “the girl from the Cotillion fiasco? Have to say the whole tentacle thing was pretty cool!” Azalea laughed pushing her plethora of curls back, only for them to fall back in her face. She let out a huff of frustration, causing a strand of curls to blow upwards. Harry watched intently, the innocent action somehow captivating his attention. Wait a minute! “Lassie you didn’t strike as one to agree with the overthrowing of the monarchy” Harry knocked his shoulder with hers jokingly. Azalea turned to her right side, issuing Harry a glare. “I’m not”, Harry groaned throwing his head back, “BUT I have my own issues with Auradon’s previous rulers.” Harry’s head chirped up at her statement, this had to be interesting… “Oh don’t leave me hangin’ on that Lass, spill!” Azalea bit back a giggle at Harry’s dramatic enunciation, before turning in the dirt to face Harry. She cleared her throat, a somber expression fell onto her features. “My father is no Prince Charming trust me, he nearly burned down half of Paris, he was a villain. But after mom came back, breaking off her engagement with the Vicounte, he was on a path to becoming better. Better wasn’t good enough though…” Azalea gritted her teeth. “The Beast, the king granted a second chance after a woman’s love saved him, banished a man finally getting his second chance because a woman’s love saved him. It’s a bit hypocritical.” Azalea’s words struck a nerve with Harry. The Beast and the Phantom were very similar, in some regards, and yet the Phantom had been sent to the Isle as the Beast was fitted for his crown. Harry understood Azalea’s frustration… Harry placed his hand on top of hers, a crackle of electricity sparking between their hands. The two of them shared a soft uncertain smile, transitioning back to their game of catch up.

“Yoohoo Lassie” Azalea sprang up from her spot on the tree, unsheathing her sword and turning to point it at the intruder of her thoughts. Harry stood behind her, arms up surrendering, a look of amusement on his face. “Put that thing back before you poke my eye out” Harry laughed. “Oh it’s you” Azalea breathed out, sheathing her sword back on her left hip. “Were you expecting someone else? Another Scottish suitor? Don’t tell me, you were friends with me older sister too.” Azalea rolled her eyes at Harry, the back of her mind hanging on the phrase “Another Scottish suitor”. “Hi” She greeted, an uncontrollable grin spreading across her face, she simply could not help it, having Harry back, even for just five days was a gift. She had dreamed of this moment for 11 years and it has finally come true. She simply felt euphoric around him as if she was flying… Harry and Azalea’s innocent childhood friendship seemed to grow and intensify as they did, an underlying magnetic and forceful attraction hidden in their recent encounters and meetings. The Pirate and the Siren were tipping on the scale already, bound to feed into their repressed feelings. “Hiya” Harry snapped back back, a chaotic grin spreading across his face. Oh, her the pirate was slightly unhinged… Azalea giggled untying her mask and retying it carefully around her dark red belt, so the mask hung around her waist. Harry had still not grown accustomed to the beauty that was hidden underneath the mask, her personality and body were of course beautiful too, but something about every time she unmasked herself left him breathless. “Did you bring what I asked for?” she questioned stepping forward to Harry. Harry smirked removing his black tricorn hat, blue fabric still tied around his forehead, and pulled out a long strip of faded black fabric from inside. “Not sure why you are sending me clothes shopping lass?” Azalea snatched the black fabric from Harry’s outstretched hand, snickering lightly. “If we want my father to believe I’m still going down to the Market, I need to bring things home.” Azalea informed waving the faded fabric in front of Harry. She tucked the fabric into the pocket of her leather jacket before returning her attention back to Harry. Her eyes were filled with excitement, her hair wild and free in the breezy night air, a soft glow painted on her face, a wide toothy grin on her face, Hades she never stopped smiling at him, Harry really liked it. Harry smirked at the girl moving to circle behind her, his heavy boots crunching against the dried leaves and dead twigs. “Lying looks good on you Lassie”. Harry stood behind her still figure, his hook reaching forward to tugback a large section of her curls exposing her pale neck, left ear, and a small white pearl earring. “And you know what they say”, Harry paused leaning down to her ear, his top lip ghostly touching her ear, “bad girls have all the fun”. His warm breath fanned across Azalea’s exposed cold skin, goosebumps erupting in a trail down her body. Blood rushed to Azalea’s cheeks, turning them warm and red instantly. Tugging her bottom lip in between her teeth, Azalea spun around carefully, Harry still leaning in dangerously close. Standing on her tippy toes, Azalea brought her self closer, their noses touching lightly. Harry’s breath quietly hitched as he tried to regain his flirtatious composure, blue eyes watching her brown ones strongly. “I’ll keep that in mind” Azalea whispered, her sweet breath making Harry’s jaw clench slightly. Azalea held her position for a moment longer, driving Harry mad with her stillness, before she dropped back down onto the heels of her feet, stepping back a foot. Harry stared at her cheekily smiling face, his mouth opening a gap. Harry the insufferable flirt was flustered… She stuck her tongue out at him a giggle escaping her lips. A smirk worked its way back onto Harry’s face, as he watched the mocking Siren in front of him. “Fuckin’ Tease”Harry muttered before chuckling as Azalea’s head fell back in laughter. “Well someone has to put you in your place, Pirate.”

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@stevenrogerscarter

Beneath a Moonless Sky (Angel of Music,Harry Hook x Fem!OC Reader) - Chapter Two

Hi guys! I am loving the fact that so many of you have been loving this story! This story is near and dear to my heart, I planned out so many aesthetic boards, Pinterest boards, and even outfit ideas to get here so I’m happy this story is taking off! 

Summary: Harry Hook cannot sleep, his dream is changing, the Mysterious Siren plagues his mind, and he feels a calling to an unknown place hidden somewhere on the Isle. Although early morning walks lead Harry to some answers. 

Warning(s): Nightmares, mention of injury/blood, angst(?), Language

Word Count: 4118 (oops)

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Mysterious Siren (Angel of Music, Harry Hook x Fem!OCReader) - Chapter One

Hi everyone! I’m so happy everyone has been enjoying this story so far! Here’s the next part, I hope you enjoy! If anyone wants to be added to the tag list let me know! 

Summary: 11 years later, Harry Hook is plagued by nightmares always relating to a child in a meadow. With Uma gone, Harry is temporarily in charge, which means he has to deal with the odd events occurring in the market. While investigating, Harry meets a new VK who is alarmingly alluring and familiar.

Word Count - 2,230 

Warnings: Angst, Nightmares, Brief Language

11 Years Later…

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Kids in the Meadow (Angel of Music, Harry Hook x Fem!OCReader) - Prologue

Hi everyone! This is my first story and it’s going to be a multi chapter fic! I brought in non-disney villains for the Parents because I couldn’t help myself, the idea was just too good to not run with! I hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated! 

Summary: Harry Hook and Azalea Destler become friends despite their roots, their own abilities, and living on the Isle of the Lost.

Warning(s): Mentions of injury/blood, parental abuse, and angst(?)

Word Count: 1934

Villains did not know kindness or happiness. Villains did not know love. Villains did not get happy endings.

“… and they lived Happily Ever After.” The boy with ocean eyes finished, closing the book, with a smile. He placed the worn book down in the dead prickly grass besides him, the dark blue cover a striking contrast against the faded yellow straw. “You did so good Harry”, a small but enthusiastic voice chirps up from his left. Harry looked over at the young girl, that sat cross legged alongside him, a large grin spread across her freckled face. The girl had uncontrollable brown curly hair and large brown eyes, traits she had both inherited from her mother. The girl had become Harry’s best friend over the past three months and they were practically inseparable, except when it came to their fathers.

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