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axwalker · 3 years

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If The World Was Ending: Even if he was wicked

Synopsis: When Bianca leaves her son without looking back, Drake has to live on the streets until he finds a home with Angelica Ortiz--Lexie’s grandmother and a foster mom. With the Ortiz, Drake finds a family and falls madly in love, until a tragic night changes everything, threatening the life Drake fought so hard to get.

To catch up (HERE)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Lexie O’Brien (MC) The Royal Romance.

A/N: This will be a very angsty, full of drama, small town romance.

Words: 4,120

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for Lexie’s grandmother and mother.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Child neglect, abandonment, sexual assault, prison and a very entitled, “evil” Liam

Due to the several trigger warnings and some of the subjects I’ll be dealing with, I will only tag people who actively asked for it. If you want to be tagged in the following chapters --or untagged, please leave a comment.

Drake

2008

When I was 12 years old, my mother took off with my little sister leaving me in Cordonia with my father's best friend. I reminded her too much of my father, too much of a life she would do anything to forget. That "anything" included abandoning her oldest son. I'd like to say I was surprised, but the truth is I wasn't. Bianca Walker had never been a motherly woman. The only reason she had taken Savannah with her was that my Aunt Leona adored her. I was sure my mother would dump my little sister on her and never look back. I hoped that was the case, Leona despised me, but she was great to Savannah.

A short time after that, Bastien passed away and my mother was nowhere to be found. That's when I started to go from one home to another. The first year and a half were the hardest ones. I lived with four different families, each one worse than the last. First, the Lockes, where the family barely talked to me. Then, the Ruiz that made me take cold showers and sleep on the floor. The Godwins where the “mother” used the check the state gave her to buy alcohol instead of groceries. And finally the worse, the Fields. They seemed nice enough when I met them. Not kind but polite. The first few weeks everything seemed normal. Then one day, I got in trouble at school, and Mr. Fields --the pastor of his community, beat me up to “teach me some manners.” His punishments became a usual thing after that.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I escaped. Better to be on my own than believe some family was going to love or adopt me. Obviously, there was something very wrong with me. My own mother had left me, and I had never found my place anywhere else.

I lived on the streets for 6 months. I did all kinds of jobs. Not a lot of them were legal but there were few opportunities for a 14-year-old runaway kid. The most money I got was when I stole car parts that I got to resell to a gang called the Mercy Park Crew. The boss, Mr. Kaneko was fair and paid well enough. I could’ve kept living by myself if something hadn’t got terribly wrong at my last job. One of the boys from a rival gang decided to teach me a lesson and I ended up in the hospital with a concussion. A nurse called social services so here I am in a car with another social worker on the way for another foster home. It doesn’t matter, I know it won’t last anyway.

When you’ve been in the system as long as I had, you learned to look for certain warning signs when placed in a new home. Drugs, ulterior motives, threatening fathers, drinking mothers. After an hour, we drove through a town looking like something straight out of a movie. Valtoria. I’d heard of it before. The family my dad had been protecting when he died lived there. The house we pulled up to, was a large two-story construction with dark brown siding and an immaculate green lawn.

Joelle, my new caseworker had popped up out of nowhere in the hospital and told me I was coming with her. Just like that. From the way Joelle talked about the new place, I figured it was some sort of transitional home for rejects like me. Too old to get adopted and too troubled for anyone to voluntarily take on. I didn’t ask her anything else because I knew I didn’t have a fucking choice. Besides, I knew words don’t mean anything. I was a kid in the system. I went where they took me. Sometimes, I hated it. Sometimes, I really hated it. This time was different. In more ways than one. Usually, I was dropped off by my caseworker, and the people receiving me were about as excited as they were about junk mail. No one has ever come out to greet me before. As long as the woman at the door wasn’t sizing me up for a skin suit, it didn’t matter.

The social worker got out of the car as I grabbed the trash bag that I used to carry my shit around. She rang the bell, and a small, older woman opened the door. Joelle had told me in the car that the woman fostered several boys and I knew what that meant. She wanted the money the government gave her for keeping us. Well, I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. If she wanted to cash a check at the end of the month it was going to cost her. I’d make sure of it.

I had seen it all, but I still was caught by surprise when the tiny woman opened her arms at me and gave me a one-sided hug. A fucking hug.

“I’m very happy to meet you, mijo,” she said in a strong accent. “My name is Angelica Ortiz but everyone here calls me Abuela. Grandma in Spanish.”

The woman was deluded if she thought I’d call her grandma. She was obviously trying to impress the social worker with her fake kindness, hugs, and stupid names. I wasn’t going to be fooled that easily.

I didn’t even answer her as we stepped into the house. Another woman, a younger version of the one staring at me was waiting for us in the living room.

“Hi, you must be Drake. I’m Elena. Welcome.” She gave me a smile. Fake, I was sure but at least she hadn't tried to hug me. The older woman was talking to Joelle about me. Probably about my problems with authority, anger issues, and lack of communication skills. I knew my file by heart.

I barely nodded at Elena, and the three women exchanged a look. “Let me take you to your room, Drake. You’ll be sharing it with Maxwell. He’s doing his homework with my daughter in our house across the street. You’ll get to meet all the boys and my daughter Lexie tonight.”

She walked me to a room on the second floor of the house. It seemed clean and comfortable. Another ploy for the social worker. Two bunker beds with blue blankets and a wooden desk full of books were the biggest pieces of furniture. The left side of the room was covered in posters of who I figured were famous boy bands. There were a few of David Beckham, the only guy I recognized. Other than that there were clothes everywhere. That Maxwell dude was a fucking slob. Great.

“I told Max to take down some posters so you can decorate half of the room to your liking; This is your room as much as it is his. He's usually much more organized than this." I notice she speaks with a sort of fondness. "It was picture day for the school yearbook and he took hours getting ready. ”

I shrugged. I wasn’t planning to stay long anyway. I couldn’t care less if that Max kid left his posters on the walls or not.

She glanced at my garbage bag. “Are those your clothes, mijo?”

I scowled at her. I knew what mijo meant and I was nobody’s son. “My name is Drake.”

She smiled. “Of course, Drake. So, are they?”

I didn’t bother with an answer. A nod was enough.

“I cleared you this part of the closet, so you can keep them there. When you’re ready come downstairs; my mom and I will show you the rest of the house. The boys are out but we’ll all diner together tonight. Do you like Mexican food?”

I shrugged.

The woman smiled. “Shrugging is not an answer, mij- Drake. Either you like it, you don’t, or you haven’t tasted it in which case I can tell you, you’re missing out. Especially when mami cooks.” She winked at me as if we were friends or something. The woman was insane. “So, what is it, Drake?”

I’d never had it before, but she wasn’t going to tell me how to answer a damn question. “I hate it.”

She frowned --clearly disappointed, and I almost felt bad for her. Almost. “I’m very sorry to hear that. We already made Enchiladas for tonight and we don’t waste food. You can tell us your favorite dish though so we can make it for you.”

I shrugged again. Generally, that's when the person talking to me loses her patience but Elena Ortiz only smiled at me again. “Think about it. Every Sunday night, we pick someone’s favorite and cook it. It’s really fun. Next Sunday will be your first here, so you get to pick. Mami is a great cook and she can make anything from a mean chocolate cake to the best cheese pizza. See you downstairs, honey.”

Great. I’ve only been in this house for a few minutes, and I already hated it. The only thing worse than a home where you were beaten up as a welcome was a home where people pretended to care. My third foster home had been like that. Ms. Godwin had been all kind and nice at first. I almost felt like she cared about us. A week later, she had gotten drunk. For two days, neither I or the two girls she fostered had anything to eat because she hadn’t bought any groceries. I had to steal a twenty euro bill from her purse to buy food. She got angry and called the social worker who had come for me and taken me to the Fields. The worst home I ever lived in.

I wasn’t going to go downstairs but I decided that if I wanted a chance to escape it was better if I knew the house. Before I could explore a little, I heard my name from what I assumed was the kitchen.

Elena was crouching in front of the oven. “Drake has such sad eyes, mami. He’s only 14.”

The woman that had asked me to call her abuela, answered as she chopped an onion. “This boy has been living in the streets for more than a year. Do you realize it? Pobre angelito. So young and he has already seen more horrors than most people see in a lifetime.”

“Joelle told me that he had escaped from his last foster home.”

The older woman scoffed. “Home? If that’s how you call people that foster kids only for the money, they get in exchange. I don’t want to imagine why he fled those places." She turned to her daughter who had finished whatever she was doing in the oven and was drinking a bottle of water. "Stop watching me work, Elena and help me with diner, por Dios.”

Why was she pretending she didn’t care about the money? It was obvious. No one did anything for free. There was always a catch.

“Dónde está mi venadito?”

“Lexie and Max are at our house doing homework, mami. Be careful, though, if Lexie hears you calling her “your little deer” she’ll kill you. The boys called her Bambi for months after they heard you the last time.”

“Nonsense. She’s my venadito and that’s that. You two will come to eat here tonight. I want Drake to meet everyone.”

Elena rolled her eyes but patted her mom on the back. “Yes mami. Lexie is dying to meet him, she and Max made a chocolate cake for him. I’ll call her in a minute. Where are the boys by the way?”

“Bertie is trying to teach Leo how to drive. Poor boy, I hope he makes it alive.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Leo will be careful. Bertrand will be fine.”

“Oh, it’s not Bertie I’m worried about, it’s Leo. Bartie has no patience with him.”

I left the kitchen before they said anything else. I was sure I was going to hate this stupid place. I was angry. More than angry. Furious. After a year of successfully running away, I was back in the damn system. Back in yet another home where people seemed to care about me in front of the social worker just to ignore me –or worse, once she left. I had to admit that my new foster “moms” played their part better than most. The old one had hugged me and the other one had given me a smile that seemed real. But I knew better. No one really cared for me. No one gave a shit where I slept, what I ate, or if I was ill or scared. Not that I was ever scared. I had seen everything.

The front door was locked so I went to the backyard. I saw a small wooden house on top of one of the trees. I decided it was a good place to hide and be myself.

I sat there for a few moments when I heard someone climbing the tree.

“Hi!”

I looked up and saw a girl a couple of years younger than me. She had the biggest pair of brown eyes I’ve ever seen and was smiling at me as if I was her best friend.

“I’m Lexie! I live across the street. I’m Angelica’s granddaughter. You’re Drake, right?” I didn’t think it was possible to smile more but the girl proved me wrong when her grin widened. I simply nodded.

“Welcome! I know that it must be hard for you to feel at home because you like just arrived but you’ll love it here. I promise. Valtoria is great. We have lakes and the mountains and when it’s warm enough we can go camping all night. You’ll love the house too. I mean between you and me the boys are kind of a pain in the ass but they’re pretty great when they want to. Or when they're not teasing me. Especially Leo and Maxie. Bertrand is a know-it-all. He thinks because he’s sixteen he knows everything." She rolled her eyes clearly offended by the idea that someone could know more than her. "Abuela, that how we all call her because she’s Mexican and would murder us if we call her grandma, is amazing. I mean don’t get me wrong, she's super strict, and as my mom says the woman is never wrong but she’s the best person I know.”

I blinked. I didn’t know a person could talk that much without taking a single breath.

“Do you camp?” She asked as she folded her legs in front of her.

I did before. Before my dad died and my whole life blew up in a million pieces. Not that I would explain any of that to the chatty girl, so I just nodded again.

“Great! It’s getting warmer and Leo wants to go to a new camping site next weekend. Don’t tell him I said this but he’s like the worst camper ever. I have to double-check everything he does but I don’t tell him anymore because my mom said it wasn’t nice.”

I wondered how could someone carry a whole conversation by herself. I hadn’t pronounced a single word since the girl had shown up.

“I want to be your friend but I can see we’re about to have our first fight.” She told me in a teasing tone. “You’re wearing a Liverpool t-shirt. We worship Barcelona in this house. Well, Abuela, Leo and I do. The others couldn’t care less about soccer.”

I looked at the shirt she was wearing. It read "If they don't have soccer in heaven, I'm not going."

She noticed I was looking at her shirt and beamed. "Abue said my shirt was disrespectful to God but mom thought that was dumb and bought it for me anyway."

"Do you like soccer?" I finally asked.

“Like it? I love it! Did abuela saw your shirt? She hates European teams. She thinks Tigres is the best.”

“Tirgues?”

She laughed, and the sound of it did something weird to my stomach. “Tigres. It’s a Mexican team. She goes crazy when they play.”

“What team you like?”

“Barcelona, obviously.”

“Liverpool made it to the finals of the last Champion’s league.” I pointed out.

She shrugged. “They lost so it doesn’t count. Do you play?”

“Sometimes.” I tried not to show how much I loved it. It was something else my dad and I shared that had stopped when he died.

“I play too. How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“I'm twelve. Well, almost thirteen, my birthday is in May.”

I frowned. “It’s November.”

“I know. I’m almost there.” She beamed. "I'm almost closer to thirteen than twelve anyway."

“Do you always talk this much?”

She laughed and my belly did that weird thing again. “My mom says I was a parrot in another life. I talk more when I’m nervous.”

“You're nervous?” I liked that I could make her nervous but I didn't know why.

She blushed and I liked it too. “A little. What happened to your eye?”

“I got into a fight.”

“Wow. You can’t do that here. Leo is always getting into fights and abuela has to ground him.”

She sure mentioned that Leo guy a lot. “Is Leo your boyfriend?”

“Gross!! Leo’s is like my brother. He, Bertie, and Max live with abuela. We’re a family. You’re family too.”

Fuck that. No matter if the girl was sort of cute. I didn’t have a family. “No, I’m not. I’m not staying.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, you do; I swear. Plus, I need someone to coach me, so I can get into the school team next year. Leo promised he would, but he never has time.”

“I suck.”

She shook her head and smiled at me again. “Somehow I don’t think you do.” Then she gave me a conspiratorial look as she pulled out something from her jacket pocket. "You can't tell my mom about this but I took this from her room." It was a white iPod. After scrolling a little through the screen she settled on The Beach Boys. She couldn't possibly know it but they were my dad's favorites. She passed me an earbud and we didn’t talk after that. We just sat together for a while hearing music until we heard our names being called.

“That’s abuela. We should go. She hates to wait. Plus, I'm starving and we're having enchiladas. You'll love them.”

Lexie ran to her house to --as she put it-- 'hide the evidence.' I went back to her grandma's house and stepped into the kitchen.

“Drake, pass me the salt, mijo. It’s next to you on the counter,” Angelica said as she kept on turning the sauce she was making. “You like enchiladas?”

What was with all these women asking me what I liked to eat? I leaned against the black counter while she opened the lid of another steaming pot on the stove, and stirred its contents with a long wooden spoon. I shrugged. I didn’t know if I liked it. But it smelled better than anything I ever tasted, so it couldn’t be all that bad. My mouth started watering, and my stomach growled. Come to think of it, it had been a while since I’d last eaten.

“You know, I know you feel weird now. And you don’t like to talk a lot. Soon, you’ll learn that this is a safe place. We aren’t gonna judge a single word that comes out of your mouth or any of them that don’t.”

I suddenly felt like I owed her a verbal response in exchange for her kindness. Fake or not. Besides, I just knew the chatty girl I’ve just met wouldn’t be happy if I was rude to her grandmother. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled at my verbal response. “But just so you know. We do have a few rules in this house.”

Here it comes. The catch. Angelica put the lid back on the pot and leaned over the counter on her elbows. “You just need to go to school, find a hobby or sport you like, don't swear, respect the curfew and keep your room clean. Every child in this house has chores but it’s too soon to figure out yours. For now, you only have to get to know us.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at me. At that moment the timer of the oven rang and Angelica took a huge dish out of it. She covered it with more steamy, tomato sauce, sour cream, and grated cheese and put it back in the oven. At least, I might get some good food while I figured what I was going to do next. Because no matter how nice and kind everybody acted, I was not going back to school. I used to be good at it without much effort; I had friends and a soccer team. But I had missed a lot in the last two years. I felt dumb and stupid.

Suddenly, the front door slammed open. “Cuidado muchachos! Be careful with that door against the wall, or you’re going be spackling and repainting this entire house,” Angelica yelled out. Three teenage boys filed into the house, followed by just as many apologies.

“Sorry.” “Oops.” “It was Max’s fault.” “

“These are Maxwell, Leo and Bertie,” Angelica introduced. “Boys, this is Drake.”

“Hi, man!” The blond one said with a shit-eating grin. “Abuela, Lena, you guys didn’t tell me you were buying a Liverpool fan.”

“Adoption is not a purchase of people, Leo” the oldest one --Bertrand, corrected.

“Yeah, cause if it was, then you got Leo from the clearance rack,” the youngest one joked, checking his reflection in the hallway mirror, smoothing back an out-of-place dark hair. “I hope you kept your receipt.”

“Fuck, off,” the blond one replied with a middle finger.

“Watch it, Leo,” Angelica warned. “Boys.”

Max kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, abue.” She forgave him with a smile, then swatted at his hand with her spoon when he dipped his finger into the pot.

“I’m glad you’re here, bro” Leo said. I stood, and he gave me a fist bump without touching my hand.

“Me too! And we’re going to be roomies,” the kid named Max said. He grabbed a stack of plates from the counter. I followed him over to the long dining room table and helped set the table for seven people.

2020

I lost count of how many days I’ve been in the hole. It wasn’t my first time in here and it sure as hell it wouldn’t be the last. It was always the same routine. Days and nights blended into one making it impossible to know what day it was or how much time I had been in here.

I have been in jail for six excrutiating years. I had known from the day I heard the sentencing that the only way I was going to survive was if I didn’t think about her. It was the hardest thing I had to do but after a while, my routine was running smoothly and when my head hit the pillow at night, I was too fucking exhausted. She haunted my dreams and my nightmares, but I didn’t think of her beyond that. Except for the hole. Locked up there, cold, hungry, and utterly alone her face, my memories of her were the only thing that helped me go on.

I replayed in my head our first encounter, our first kiss, our first time. I obsessed about her full lips, her expressive brown eyes, her gorgeous smile. I could spend hours picturing every single corner of her soft delicate curves. Sometimes, I wondered if --maybe, I didn’t start fights in the hope of being sent to the hole where I could spend my time fantasizing about her. It was pure torture, but I couldn’t help myself. The memories I had of her, of us and our short time together were the only light in my otherwise bleak life.

She still wrote me every week but I hadn’t open any single one of her letters. I didn’t want to know if she was moving on with her life or worst if she was waiting for me. Because that was what Lexie didn’t understand. Even if nothing happened and I was released in one year, I would never be that boy again. The Drake Walker she had known and loved was dead and she wasn’t going to like the man that had been left in his place. I was damn sure about that.

Tagging:

@mskaneko

@burnsoslow

@kingliam2019

@kat-tia801

@petiteboheme

@tinkie1973

@twinkle-320

@thegreentwin

@forallthatitsworth

@marshmallowsandfire

@marshmallowsaremyfavorite

@princessleac1

@lilacsandwhiskey

@lovingchoices14

@nomadics-stuff

#tw child neglect #tw child abandonment #tw children #tw child labor #axwalker writes #drake walker #drake walker fanfic #drake x mc #drake x lexie #trr fanfic #trr au fanfic

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nomimits7 · 4 years

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Cold Phoenix | 1

Title: Cold Phoenix

Pairing: FBI BTS x Gang/mafia member (named) reader

Genre: Mission au, FBI au, Gang au

Warnings: Angst, manipulation, riddles (sorry), betrayal

Summary: Being born as the Taboo child between the good and the bad of this world, Zebah grew up believing she was just another one of the stolen. But just like the moon that needs the sun to shine, seven FBI agents enter her life with the promise of freedom. Before long Zebah realizes she is just another pawn in the game of Mafia vs. FBI. Will Zebah ever learn to trust the seven men that betrayed her to get what they wanted? Will she ever believe the truth behind her own birth? Or will Zebah fall alongside her family that lied to her from the start?

A/N: This story is told in the third person. Try to guess who the narrator is! Also this is my first time writing in this style. Please do tell me what you think. Should I keep to it or not?? The bold words are flashbacks of past scenes. The normal words are what the narrator tells.

@kookmin9795land Hope you like it

*-*

“It’s done. Mommy made the big bad mistake go away. Now, remember what mommy said. You made this mistake…” The woman with grey hair points to the new-born baby in her son's arms “and whatever mommy had to do in there is your fault. If she ever finds out about her true identity, mommy will have to ‘fix’ that to” The woman concluded as she exited the hallway, ordering some of the bystanders to clean up the mess. She was the wife of one of the most feared mafia bosses out there. Ruthless and heartless, even towards her own son's breaking heart. No amount of tears could break her, even if she silently felt joy seeing and holding her first grandchild.

“Don’t worry angel, even if you might never know the truth… Daddy will always love you and protect you from afar” He whispered close to his newly born daughters’ ears. Regret and sadness the only available emotions as he watches the others remove the love of his life’s lifeless body. A silent sacrifice to save her life. A sacrifice she would only come to hear about when it’s far too late. His mother has removed the sun in his dark life, fortunately, he had his daughter to fill the void, even if she, like the moon, would only reflect her mother's brightness.

Growing up in the mafia Zebah always thought she was one of the stolen. You see there were just too little children born into the mafia to maintain sufficient numbers, so some of the mafia leaders decided to steal what they needed. Reinforcements. At first, they stole teens, they were young and could learn fast, but they also had grown to the extent where they wouldn’t forget their past lives. They would rebel against the mafia, causing more problems than fixing them.

Soon the age decreased, toddlers were kept under lock and key and even baby cribs had alarms on them. People started living with the fear that their child would be next. Once Phoenix took them, they would never be seen again. The only time they would be found, is when they have already reached skeletonization.

Once the children were old enough to talk and walk properly, their training began. From handling knives to shooting with their eyes closed. They were trained to become the best of the best. The best at hiding, the best at stealing, the best at killing. Even though they knew children would sometimes make mistakes, they treated it as a game of baseball. Strike one was a warning, strike two a punishment, and strike three meant you were out. Out of the mafia and out of society. How they killed off these recruits depended on the day, but luckily Zebah never got to experience such an event. She barely had one strike to your name.

It’s been sixteen years since her training started and twenty-one years since she started breathing. Zebah was ruthless and feared amongst the mafia members. Even some of the rival mafias kept their distance from her. She was still young, but since her skills surpass most of her seniors, Zebah quickly became a favorite. Even her best friends and partners in crime envied her position. Alex and Ray barely left her side. Even with her skills, they knew Zebah was still just a young girl stuck in the mafia world. Physically feared but mentally broken. All of them were, their upbringing wasn’t exactly normal.

Most of the mission they were sent on went without fault, but they were still learning. This fact alone was why the big boss never sends them on ‘more important’ missions. The risk was just too high, the FBI and even some rival mafias would take any chance they got to take down Pheonix, even if they would have to deal with Z. Luckily they always failed, and as cocky as that sounds that may be exactly what lead to their success in the end. One thing nobody realized in the beginning was just how fragile the minds of the young ones are. Phoenix simply focussed on the hardcore stuff. They barely trained their minds to withstand temptation. This was one of the biggest mistakes Phoenix could ever have made.

So why this is important you ask? Well, you see every story has a start and the very birth of the taboo child leads to the downfall of Pheonix. She might have been born and raised in the mafia, but her heart was pure and believe me when I tell you she wanted out. None of her friends shared her desire and Zebah learned that the hard way. Now I won’t bore you with the boring stuff, so I’ll cut to the very boys who granted her, her freedom. I have to warn you though, this story doesn’t have the usual ‘enemies to lover’ enigma. This story includes heartbreak and betrayal with a dash of blood for taste.

You won’t believe me when I tell you that it was seven FBI agents. You heard me right, seven FBI boys. These seven were compiled of three hackers and four specialists. Now I know in the FBI all of the agents get trained in how to handle a gun and how to investigate and all that nitty-gritty shit. But here’s what sets these seven men apart. Their leader is a genius. Not in the sense of he can solve a crime within 5 seconds, no he’s extremely smart in the strategic sense. I think he mentioned once he had a degree in philosophy or something like that. The oldest hacker came from a criminal background. Both his parents were cyber thieves and they taught him everything he knows. One of the specialists was a chemist, the other two are experts in human behavior. The other two hackers just did it as a side job to get through college.

So in short, these individuals make up one heck of a team. Maybe that’s why their superiors gave them the mission to take Pheonix down. But the funny part of this whole story is that they never made a move. It was like they were the mafias and were waiting for their target to slip into their trap. At the time Pheonix didn’t even know they had a new target on their backs. Typical if you consider what idiot the leader was.

“Boss. We worked through the entire list of known mafia members and identified 3 candidates we can consider as possible insiders. All male, all young and naïve” Hoseok said as Namjoon walked into the office. This was not great news. Naïve-ness leads to failed missions and that’s one thing they could not afford. They had an image to maintain after all.

“You know that’s not a good start at all, right? We need insurance. Someone willing to take down the only family they know.” Yoongi casually stated as he cleaned his weapons. None of the profiles were stable enough to use. They all held the risk of failure. Some of them the members were too high up and other members were to low down to trust. It was nearly impossible for them to find an in.

“Maybe we’ll find something tonight. There’s a small gathering down at the docks and if my sources are correct, there will be a deal going down.” Seokjin said gaze still firmly attached to his screen.

“And how do we know your sources can be trusted Jin? People lie all the time to get what they want” Namjoon asked somewhat frustrated that his team’s not getting anywhere. It’s been a whole week since the big man told them to take Pheonix down and the man wants answers. Nothing made Namjoon more pissed off than someone nagging him for progress, especially in a high-profile case like this. Taking down Phoenix would be considered one of the most impossible tasks to ever cross an agent's desk. Many have tried in the past, and all have failed.

“Seriously Joon? I’m a hacker for goodness sake. I saw the text messages with my own eyes. Before you say anything I know it’s illegal that’s why I had Kookie send in an anonymous message leaving the tip for us to follow” Seokjin said as he finally made eye contact with a ‘shocked but not surprised’ Namjoon. He has done this before, once a criminal always a criminal. Seokjin, like the others, lived for the thrill.

If there is one thing you should know about this group of seven it’s this, they play by their own rules. I still believe that if it weren’t for their leader to keep them in check or his ability to legalize their actions, they would have been very cunning criminals.

Part 2

A/N: I know its short but there’s a reason...A good one. Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist! thank you for reading <3

#nomimits7 #bts #bts x reader #Zzzz #named oc #ot7 #ot7 x reader #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #zebah #mafia #gang #fbi #whatever other tags writers use

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giurochedadomani · 4 years

Text

Three days on a drunken sin

Anthony Crowley went to a party. He doesn’t remember much of it, but waking up in a hospital bed to Ezra’s pitiful eyes is etched on his mind. After a long summer of avoidance, he saves the day and Ezra’s new job at the old Tadfield library.

TAGS: Pre-Slash, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Human!AU: University, TW: drug use, TW: overdose, TW: suicide attempt, TW: characters having an homophobic family

The blue from the police lights reflects over the Central Tadfield Library sign, old and a tad cracked, making it look as if it were about to fall down on the rests of the storefront. A couple of agents dock down on their way out, as do the handcuffed wannabe robbers they’re pushing.

Crowley kneels, picks up the book, sees again the title —bloody Hamlet— and snorts. He offers it to Ezra.

Their hands touch when the other grabs it. Crowley’s just a tad too glad that he doesn’t drop it.

“That was awfully nice of you”.

Crowley feels a bit hot around the collar and suspects it might not have everything to do with the pulsing pain of the bruise on his left cheek. He deflects by glaring for good measure at the big, burly detective taking Mrs. Tracy’s statement, but he seems so enthralled as to pay them any attention.

“Very. Very cool”.

“Oh, shut it”, he murmures back.

He gives Ezra a side glance. It’s aiming for a glare and falls miserably short. His stomach does a weird thing when he sees the other’s soft smile as he flips the pages of the book. He feels a little bit dumb and a whole lot ridiculous at how, ugh, mushy ‘very. Very cool’ makes him. He misses his glasses, broken in the scuffle Ezra and him had gone into with the robbers.

Continue reading in AO3 or here.

He wills his left knee to stop moving. He ends up getting up from the sofa just to stop the nervous taps on the floor. Ezra asks: “How did you know that I was working here?”

Anathema had told him. She had done so subtly at first and with increasingly elaborate threats then to coax him to make amends with Ezra through the whole summer.

(Crowley can’t remember anything but the blinding lights of the ambulance, a cacophony of shouts from his parents and Ezra’s pitiful eyes before waking up on the hospital bed.

“Well, you really shouldn’t be here. I mean, given how many other people you have to fraternize with—”)

“I didn’t. I happened to be in the neighbourhood”. It has happened a couple of times before. That is, Crowley going so far as to reach the neighbouring park before bolting on the whole idea. Showing up just as the gang decided to strike the library hasn’t been about pure chance, though.

“My spidey senses just tingled”.

“Ah”. Ezra’s soft smile fades down a bit. Crowley feels an inexplicable pang of guilt. “Well. I’m glad about your spider senses. I really don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t show up, my dear. I suppose that I got myself into a very tight spot”.

Mrs. Tracy laughs. She then shoves a hand over her mouth, appalled. She looks apologetically at the detective, who very chivariously tells her that there’s nothing to apologize for.

Crowley fixates on how much that makes him gag so he won’t pay attention at how his mind won’t stop echoing ‘my dear’.

“It’s spidey, not spider. You know it’s spidey”, he chides him. It doesn’t have any real bite to it, though. He glances again at Ezra and spots that little self satisfied smile that he sports after being annoying on purpose. His heart clenches suddenly at the immensity of the feeling of how much he has missed it.

“Does pretending to be from two centuries ago still help you around here?”, he asks, as nonchalant as he can manage. He rests his back on the counter.

“I’ll have you know that Mrs. Tracy appreciates my tastes, as démodé as you may find them”. Ezra replies, petulantly. He purses his lips and adds: “And modernizing doesn’t necessary have to equal obscure comic book knowledge, you know?”

Crowley scoffs. Thinks I’ll give you obscure.

Ezra ignores him: “I’ve been keeping myself up to date as of late, if you must know. I—”, he hesitates. Crowley takes on his set shoulders, that proud grin. He thinks about how utterly adorable he looks as he doubles down on his resolve and—

A phone rings. An 8 bit version of something classical. That’s— Beethoven?

Crowley fishes the thing out of the floor, vibrating half hidden among books. It looks like an old Blackberry or something equally egregious. He flips it in his hand, spots the cracked screen and… he sees the screen saver, a bad selfie of Ezra kissing some guy’s cheek.

(“Someone like me? How exactly is someone like me? No, describe it. Do you honestly think that I deserve to get treated—”.

“I worry about you”.

“And now you sound like them. I only asked— At the very least have the guts to tell me that you think that this is a punishment—”.

“You’re putting words in my mouth that I haven’t said”.

“That’s the problem! You never say anything. So long for that being on your side shit when you won’t stand up when I need someone to do it”)

Crowley doesn’t even move when Ezra, beet red, grabs the phone out of his hand and answers.

“Hi, I— Yes. Yes. Both of us. I was about to call you to tell you about it, in fact”, he nods to nothing. “Well, Police has been interrogating us up until now. How have you heard about it, anyway? In the—?”, a whisper of something and then: “The what!? Yes, yes, I swear to— Look, given the circumstances it’s something that I’m able to promise, yes”.

Crowley just— stays there. With the image of the screen saver seared into his mind. The guy’s tall, dark haired, good looking, all draped in finery. Ezra’s honest to Someone giggling. Crowley feels as if someone has just dropped a bucket of cold water over his shoulders. As if someone has just punched all air out of his lungs.

“I— yes, the moment I get home”, continues Ezra. He lowers his voice: “Yes, me too”.

He ends the call.

One of the agents asks something to Mrs. Tracy and then helps her to close the storefront, hiding the broken glass under the metal sheet. After the creaks stop, Ezra tries a joke, pinpointing the phone: “I figured at some point of another I would have to let go of telegrams”.

The guy is probably refined and shit. He can picture him, a veritable dandy, dressed like a sir and philosophizing about morality while analyzing literary classics. Most likely, his vices limit themselves to cigarettes and the occasional brandy glass at parties. Surely, his police records are stainless.

He’s truly glad for Ezra.

Brimming with joy.

He pinpoints the old mobile: “You’ve nailed down the century, angel. Now all that is left to nail down is the decade”. He puts so much effort into not sounding as hollow as he feels, that he expends a few seconds without realizing exactly what has he called the other and only does so when Ezra looks away.

Crowley’s stomach sinks to the floor and then lower, a truly stupid, over sensitive move on his part—

“He’s a— well, a friend”.

(“You haven’t been able to admit that we’re friends. Not once”

Ezra looks away. He ducks his head. His voice wavers when he says—)

Crowley buries the memory quickly and mercilessly. He was a manipulative asshole that day. Ezra’s not the one to blame for Crowley’s devotion, nor his very private daydreams —so obviously out of touch with reality, given what he is, what tears them apart— about what a friendship might develop into.

“You don’t owe me any explanation”.

He tries to swallow the bile down his throat.

“Crowley, I—”.

The point is— he didn’t even know that Ezra might, in this world and life, be interested. That there was any potential to explore. That Ezra, well, is interested in guys. A part of him cannot stop ruminating about how it’s his fault. That he’s somehow lacking— he’s always lacking. That he was, well, truly pathetic to even secretly entertain the possibility.

He stands up and recollocates his jeans, trying not to wince when his bruised hands grab the rough fabric. “I’m going home”.

Ezra’s face falls. He looks away, frowning a little, pouting, his lower lip trembling slightly. Crowley’s convinced that if Ezra were looking up, his eyes would beautifully shine with unshed tears. He feels as if he has just committed genocide, or kicked an overgrown, blonde puppy with eyes as blue as the sky. He gives in, refrains the urge to sigh and asks: “Do you want a lift?”

Ezra does a double take. Then, he smiles. And it’s like grabbing a soft blanket and getting near the fireplace on a rainy day and corny shit like that.

Crowley feels a frustration almost as deep as the warmth in his chest.

Soon they find themselves in Crowley’s car, with him following Ezra’s directions across town and being just a tad too glad that he doesn’t have to explain why does he know where they are going.

Wait, no. Come back! He just means— Anathema’s new flame lives next door, okay? He’s not a creep.

“So you basically stole a bunch of books”.

“I didn’t steal anything. I acquired them. With hard work”.

“You’ve just told me that you went into a— well, a sort of manhunt of prophecy books, coercing their previous owners into giving them to you almost for free”.

“Coerce, now that’s a strong word. Suggest, if anything. Let it slide— Could you please go slower, my dear!”.

“Manipulated, more likely. Deceived”.

Ezra shots him a glare, baffled.

“It’s hardly my fault if they didn’t do the proper research before our negotiations!”

“I don’t know if that would stand in a courtroom”.

“Well, if you’re just going to ponder the legal ramifications of my job I might just ask you to drop me here and go the rest of the way back on foot”.

“Now, there’s no need for rush decisions”.

“Well, you’re the one rushing!”

Crowley smirks, takes a turn left a little to quickly to make it perfectly legal and tries hard not to laugh at how Ezra squirms. “I’m just— admiring the skill where it’s due”, he says, after a moment of silence. “It must have been very difficult to get the opportunity to negotiate with those antique dealers. To prepare a convincing speech that fit every occasion”.

“If that’s sarcasm, I swear, my dear—”

“Oh, gosh, no. I’ve seen you in action. I don’t doubt for a moment that you can be pretty persuasive”.

(“So, what am I supposed to tell them? ‘Oh, no, I’m sorry, but I won’t make it, you guys, I’ve plans of spending all night long curing the boredom of this blondie, you see’. Wait a minute, I’m so definitely texting them that”.

“Crowley! You’re making me look like a wanton thing”.

“Are you blond? Check. Did you convince me that spending the night here was way more interesting than putting up with Bee and their friends? Also check. Did you do so because you’re bored as hell? Ladies and gentlemen, we have a triple check! I fail to see how am I misrepresenting the truth here”.

“You know that they won’t think that! If you send them that they will assume that— They will think that we—”

Crowley has the smartphone in a hand, a glass of wine in the other. That, next to Ezra’s white jumper, will prove itself to be an accident in the making in mere seconds. An accident that Ezra will have only to vaguely battle his eyelashes to to get Crowley try his hardest to solve.

“Now, what will they exactly think?”

“Give me the mobile, Crowley!”)

Crowley smile falters. He drops the banter: “Doing something quite as reckless as inviting potential robbers of those books into your bookshop, now, I wouldn’t have pinpointed you as someone who’d do that”.

He sees out of the corner of his eye how Ezra ducks his head and looks out of the window. “I was supposed to get help”.

Ah, yes. Crowley remembers the girl of the library, the one who has played Ezra’s partner in crime before snitching on him to the gang. The one Ezra hadn't imagined betraying him because he wouldn’t be capable of doing something like that to someone else, so why would her do it to him. He changes gears, keeps his eyes on the road and answers, as if in an afterthought: “Next time you plan on turning yourself and your books into bait, maybe— well, if you need a backup, a proper backup, just ask me”.

He feels more than sees Ezra’s eyes snapping back at him, and that’s more than anything out of the flush that creeps over his neck. He feels his palms sweaty, his heart beating wildly. He preemptively puts up his shields, thinks a myriad of variants of ‘I only say it so you don’t make a fool out of yourself’ and is only halfway dissapointed when Ezra changes tracks to ask: “How did you find out about the strike?”

Crowley opens his mouth, thinks about explaining how Lucius had told him in no uncertain terms to follow the gang if he wanted to keep the job. He thinks about what Ezra would tell him if he mentioned the Inferno gardening shop and its shady backroom deals altogether. He shuts his mouth.

Ezra, who can read him back to back, doesn’t even need him to put it into words. He jumps to the worse conclusion, though: “Did he... order it?”

Wait, what?

“No. He— I heard them talk about you, okay? He—”, Crowley sighs, “Okay, he told me to follow them. That’s when I heard them talking about this library, this old and weird ass librarian, and the blondie, fussy young man who helped her and, well. I pieced things together and then...”

“And you decided to come to my rescue”.

Crowley risks a quick look over. Ezra looks… kind of amused. He doesn’t know what to make out of it. His gut reaction is to tone down the statement: it’s not as if he suddenly has turned into some sort of knight in shining armour. Or that he deserves to be praised like one.

In the end, he doesn’t say anything, mainly because a hand chooses that exact momento to gently squeeze his arm, and that stops altogether his train of thought.

“You can stop wherever you can. It’s over there”, Ezra explains, pinpointing the same large block of buildings in front of which he dropped Anathema a couple of weeks before. Crowley parks, not too far away. He hopes that Ezra will invite him over. Maybe make a big show of how irresponsible is to let a drive drive that late, perhaps chide at his reckless ignorance of road manners. Something that lets him a teeny, tiny opportunity not to have to say goodbye.

“Well, thank you for—”

He rolls his eyes.

“Ezra”.

“But I’m grateful for what you’ve done! It was... nice seeing you again”.

It’s the wild, blind hope in his chest what makes him take a deep breath, braze himself for the impact and say: “You know, Hamlet. There’s ah— They’re doing Hamlet. The guys in— Shit, well, I mean”, he backpedals. Starts again, trying to say it so it makes sense. Subject, verb, complements. Come on, you can do it! “The new community theatre downtown? Some friends of mine are doing Hamlet there. They’re not— Oscar worthy, or anything, but they’re also not rubbish. And there’s a bar near, they make some pretty mean pizzas. Italian authentic recipe, all artsy. We could—”.

“I can’t”.

Crowley clasps his mouth shut.

“Right”.

He blinks a few times, keeps his eyes away, tries to will the sharp sting away.

“Crowley, I’m not ashamed of you. I just— I can’t, okay?”

Ezra squeezes his hand for a moment.

Crowley won’t cry.

“Okay, angel”, he manages.

Ezra grabs his bag and gets out of the car. He doesn’t manage to move until he sees him disappear through the entrance hall.

It doesn’t happen that night. Nor the morning after. He’s got to wait up until the afternoon shift at the Inferno for Bee to call him to the back room and hand him the shop’s phone. It’s humid in the backroom, it clings to his clothes. It almost chokes him when he hears a sweet, deep voice tell him: “You’ve got guts to show up, that I have to admit it. I’ve seen you worse for wear, though. Is that how you pay your shots now, scuffles?”

(“My brother is—”

“An idiot? A petty bastard who didn’t outgrow the bully phase?”)

“I wouldn’t stick around if I were you, our parents don’t take to too gently to your kind. Neither do I, if we’re being honest. If you want to ruin your life, that’s your problem. But the last thing we need is you dragging Ezra down with you. Specially, after what he did to get you back to school”.

Ba-dum-thud. His heart skips a beat.

“I’m going to take your little chat from last night as an aberration to the rule, but needless to say, I don’t want you to go near him ever again. Or else, there will be consequences. And you know for experience that I do follow up my words”. A pause. “Do we have an arrangement?”

Ire cloughs his throat. He’s got the phone in a death grip.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. Have a nice day, Crawley”.

He hangs up.

Crowley waits one tone, two tones, before his body reacts and he stomps the phone on the receiver wishing that it was not a phone, but a certain someone’s face. Bee refrains mid-sentence to tell him how he’s going to have to pay it if he breaks.

He paces back to the front of the shop, feeling disgusted with himself, and only partially because after being at the back room he’s pooling in sweat. His mind is lost to the present, racing through images of him burning with rage at the hospital, screaming at Ezra to fuck off, to images of him burning with rage at the police station, being questioned, to images of him burning with rage at the director’s office, being told with a stern voice and pitiful eyes that even if Crowley will not be expelled for the incident, if he continued down this road, it’d probably cost him way more than his academic possibilities and he knows that . He knows there’s a missing piece in there, somewhere, though he cannot for the love of Someone pinpoint where is it. There’s the familiar weight of guilt in his stomach and a question which echoes through his brain.

What the fuck did he do?

#good omens #ineffable husbands #Crowley #Aziraphael #myfics

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hedonest · 4 years

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hey folks! i already introduced myself in the ooc blog but * ok go vc * here it goes again. i’m velouria (she/her, 26, est) and i’m supposed to be in school but lol, the world was like this was a bad year to get your shit together girl, try again later. anyways, here’s my first babe hector and the only thing you need to know is that he’s horrible. he’s a horrible, horrible, horny person and i hate him and you should hate him too. but here’s some more details:

content warnings: homelessness, crime, drugs, general bastardness

born in tulsa, oklahoma on november 13th, 1997, hector, surprisingly, came from the most normal suburban beginnings you could imagine. he had two parents, an older sister, dog, cat, and a hamster. he was a rather normal child, though he had a wild independent streak that only got worse as he aged. didn’t play very well with others and would only play simon says if he got to be simon, but was friendly and jovial with those he liked, or wanted something from.

stubborn as a mule, hector was fiercely independent and increasingly selfish. by the time middle school came around, hector created a hierarchy within his group of friends and became a bully around his school, though was more pushy than outright cruel. a very rowdy teen, hector never took anything very seriously and didn’t form attachments in a healthy sort of way, something that’s only worse instead of better now.

while he liked his family well enough, he never felt a strong bond with them. they loved him very much and would try to foster a healthy, loving relationship with him, he was like #nah and spent most of his time out of the house, never telling them what he was doing and where he was going. his father and sister gave up on him, but his mother still held out hope that it was just an incredibly long phase.

barely showing up to school even when it was mandatory, hector’s primary focus was on having a good time. that meant sex, drugs, and copious amounts of partying. scaring little old ladies, taking cars on joyrides. a petty criminal by the age of fifteen, hector has only been in trouble with the law a few times, spending a few weeks in county jail over the weeks but the charges have never stuck. (once he’s out, he’s off to some place new, but it’s only a matter of time before the law finally catches up to him and he’s inside for good.)

his parents didn’t have a chance to kick him out or send him to military school because he straight up bounced by the time he was seventeen. he left one day to a friend��s house and just didn’t come back; he went to a party in oklahoma city, and then just... never thought about going home. hector didn’t stay around okc for very long after that, drifting all over the southwestern states.

out on his own, or rather couch surfing with like-minded individuals, hector got to experience the highest points of pleasure and pain. a full blown hedonist, the only thing that mattered (and matters) to hector was fucking, fighting, stealing, and getting high. basically if you’ve ever seen the movies hellraiser or the doom generation, he’s a mix of frank cotton and xavier red.

though he’s moved around a lot since leaving home, usually staying in a city for three months or so before he’s moving on again, he’s made a bit of a home out of reno, nevada, frequently traveling between reno and las vegas. often just up and leaves without a word, then returns two weeks later as if nothing happened like a neighborhood cat. has spent the last five years or so grifting and lying his way into the hearts and homes of lonely old ladies (and men). infects your house with his presence, gets you to take care of him, and then bounces one night with most of ur silver and jewelry in his backpack.

though he’s not part of any sort of gang, he does revolve in organized crime circles, and mostly makes actual money by boosting cars for the mob in vegas. though he sometimes does ‘freelance’ work for organized crime syndicates and gangs, he’d never join one. hector vc: why have someone tell you what to steal when you can just do it? :)

which all brings him to charming, california. basically run out of town on a rail, he had to leave reno because he heard there was a warrant out for his arrest and lbr he’s pissed off way too many people in nevada. has only been in charming for three days (so far in canon), staying in the highway motel by way of a stolen credit card, but i’ll be putting out a wc for his benefactor; someone he’s conned into letting him stay in their house, putting on the sweet street kid act. don’t believe the act, but also please do.

the biggest thing to know abt hector is that he’s a horny dude. he’s literally always thinking about sex and the second he meets you, he’s thinking about fucking you, no matter how old you are (as long as it’s legal because gross and i would never rp that), if you’re in a relationship/married, or what gender you are. you could be totally into his schtick or think he’s disgusting, it don’t matter. will hit on you, because he knows no other way to interact with people.

tells you what you want to hear. lies as much as he breathes. honestly he’s barely aware of the lies he tells and can’t keep them straight. most of his stories sound like bullshit but a lot of them are true.

big drugs fan. loves him some k! who’s got the weed! shows up to random parties just to finagle his way into getting drugs for free, while also stealing a bunch of meaningless random shit. the one thing you can’t replace - john mulaney.mkv

y’all get it by now. he’s gross, he sucks, but gosh darn he’s got a cute lil face!

wanted stuffs:

i mentioned that i’m going to send a wanted connection to the main for hector’s new benefactor (though if your muse is a lonely older person, man or woman, that’s gullible then let me know!!) but here’s some plots stuff we can do

sexual partners: basically hector wants to bang everyone. if you’re up for it, he will fuck you at pretty much any time, but just know that he’s also fucking like five other people and has never been monogamous in his entire damn life.

a girlfriend: okay so i just said he’s never been monogamous but sometimes hector likes to pretend. or rather, he will start using her to get something, likely companionship when he’s bored or access to money/drugs/alcohol, whatever. a place to sleep at night. just something! she’ll probably think they’re more serious than they actually are but hector does actually like her as a person, or she’s trying to get him to be more serious/grow up. this one will occur over time bc he’s new!

enemies: hector is a hard person to like and an easy person to hate. he has very little regard for others and enjoys physical fighting bc it feels good. they can hate him because he screwed them over, cheated on them, cheated on their friend/sibling/whatever, stole something from them, or they just don’t like his smug face.

friends: if your muse likes to party, hector is your man. he basically just lives to have fun. however, his version of fun is kind of scary and dangerous at times. he can be a bad influence on your muse and get them into trouble or they can be a good influence on him.

a close friend/confidant: hector isn’t an emotional person but occasionally he does have moments of vulnerability. when this happens, your muse is the person he comes to when he needs someone to be there for him or needs someone to talk to. your muse could be doing this reluctantly or in hopes that he’ll be there in the same way for your muse, which isn’t very likely but hector will like to pretend lol.

or any connection we can think up!! message me on here or discord (wanda’s loving boy#1003) if you wanna plot!

#charming.intro #hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )#this is long as shit i'm sorry

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eris0330 · 7 years

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Myosotis

☽Pairing☾ ; Hoseok!Demi-God | Reader

☽Genre☾ ; Angst | Fluff

☽Word Count☾ ; 3.9k

☽Summary☾ ; Rescued by an known thief, claming to be a Demi-God, you agreed to let him stay on your couch. With one condition: Don’t leave without telling.

On a chilly autumn night between a dark ally, where no one was supposedly going to stop by at midnight, you were cornered up in a dead exit. Your pulse vibrating and pumping as the adrenaline made you run to the nearest hide-out, from the college douchebags who searched adventure for the night.

“Come on little one, don’t you want to have fun with us?” The leader of the group growled, taking his facemask off that you assumed to be just a regular nylon stocking. You spat at him with gritted teeth, feeling the cold wall press against your spine. “Yeah because running away from idiots is so much fun”

“Oh baby, this is just the foreplay” The other right-hand spoke with an obnoxious smile, walking with heavy steps towards you. His hands forming to gripping fists as he adjusted his huge blue jumper jacket, with the third male copying every bit of movement to fit in this scenario.

“Do not even think about touching me!” You yelled, hoping for the empty streets to hear your pleas. The way the leader fiddled with his filthy black hair to get a better look, you swore there were a red hue glistering in his orbs.

“It won’t help screaming like that… you will be needing it later” He threatened, stroking a hand against your hot cheek before you slapped it away in defence. The urge to slap him across the face was tingling at your fingertips, until you heard an unfamiliar fourth voice in the back speak up.

“Oh leave the poor girl alone boys. Find someone who is WILLING to sleep with you, than forcing them. That’s at least legal.” You head tilting to watch the black silhouette form at the entrance of the ally, with an unknown facial of a shadow. His voice was delicate, comedic but sweet.

“Isn’t that the guy who says he’s some weird god?” The right-hand commented, scrunching his brows in the process of scanning the back. The leader taking the opportunity to sneak a take for himself, as for laughing in the results.

“Shit you’re right.” He spat with a smile, before leaving the victimised you, to be left back. His hands clapping together, warming up for a fist fight.

“What are you going to do? Zap us??” The third commented, before joining his crew in the meantime. The unknown speaker only cracked a half-hearted smile, blinding in the dark shadows of the night.

“Oh please… That’s Zeus’ job.” A smile turning upside down, disappearing at your sight. The figure lost in time and space, before one by one of the gang fell to their knees. Their groans in agony and confusion rising before you, realising that you could be in danger too. There was no understanding in the light of this, but panic layered upon your shoulders before dashing towards the only exit in the ally.

Your feet burning and forehead sweating, with unknown tears falling at the corner of the eyes. Stopping to catch a breath, as the familiar neighbourhood came to life in the street lights. Your own love and home, was just a few street blocks away and it was all over.

“What was that?” You questioned yourself, before huffing your way to seek comfort. The lost memory of people falling to their knees and the silhouette of a man, gone.

“I saved you and you just leave me hanging??” The familiar man standing in the tracks of your return, surprised at his broad chest blocking your way. Stepping back to see the face unfold, of a beautiful young man with light brown hair. His eyes black as the coal on Christmas night, with the dimples digging into his cheeks as he smiled. Ripped clothing, but didn’t seem to be homeless as for his clean self. Your eyebrows knitting in confusion, once again.

“W-Wait? What? I-I” You stuttered, before the laughter came back like music to your ears. There was something about him, that made your heart skip a beat, or was it just the aftermath of an escape?

“A ‘Thank you’, would be nice” He answered, letting his long eyelashes bat in your direction. Your mouth quivering, wrapping your head around this specific topic, because the reason to be this mute wasn’t the fact you were almost attacked. But, the rumours about him being a Demi-god was a whole new level of insanity.

“T-Thank you” You managed to speak, sporting back the smile you were slowly falling for. “Great! But I could use a place to crash” He replied, bowing down to catch your eyes on the same level. Your mouth gapped and eyes wide, realising where you remembered that familiar smile. From a mug shot.

“YOU’RE THAT THIEF!” You yelled, getting your mouth covered with his thin fingers as if it didn’t need anything else to block your vocals. “Hush little one. You don’t want to wake the whole neighbourhood, right?” He whispered up close, sensing the aroma of his mint breath and cologne.

“B-But why are you not in jail??? You stole the ring of Myosotis!!!” You spoke eagerly as whipping his blockage away, to catch him off surprise.

“They didn’t have any proof it was me, so I walked out.” Shoulder shrugged and the most pleasant smirk appeared, making you laugh due to the humorous meeting with the famous phantom thief. “So, because you did a good deed suddenly, you think I’ll let you sleep in my house?”

“Isn’t that obvious? I could use a place to crash for the time being, since I’m not exactly accepted back in heaven yet” He suggested, walking with steady steps towards your house. You caught up to walk beside him, watching the features on his face to not read any of his thoughts. Even though he was a criminal, there was something about him that assured you security and comfort.

“Hold up.” You stopped his tracks, stepping in front to see his face surprised and intrigued by your appealing posture. “If you’re going to crash on my couch. There is one condition! ALWAYS tell me when you’re leaving the house!”

Your eyes locked with each other, finding his amused smile to trigger a tickle in your stomach. His hand unfolded and directed in your way, you took it with pleasure without thinking further. “It’s a deal.”

It wasn’t that he tried to do any harm on you, in fact he just saved your life from a gang of college idiots that even for the weak hearted, would appreciate. To any other person, this would seem insane and put yourself in danger, but there was something in his smile that assured you he was nothing but a guy with grand expectations of himself. A Demi-god? That’s ridiculous, but still oddly enough believable of his statement with pride.

“So… A Demi-God, huh?” Walking inside the less furniture house, you threw your keys at the table, making the familiar sound of crashing metal. “Yeah, a Demi-God. Why do you humans ask me that, in such a way of sarcasm?” He responded, setting foot to sit on the brown fluffy couch.

“Whatever you are, Mr. Demi-God-“

“Please. Just call me Hoseok… Maybe that way you won’t look at me with that obnoxious expression” He interrupted making your fists clench at the attitude, even after accepting his plea of taking up your couch.

“Then Hoseok, how long are you going to stay?” You questioned, walking towards him with folded arms. His brunette hair covering his blissful forehead, you found him intriguing in the broken lamps light.

“Till I get my pass to go back.”

“A pass, to where?”

“Heaven.” He answered, to his smile faded along the way to the point you could sense the tense aura of the subject.

“You know what? I need to slumber on this, because I am insane for letting you in but fuck it.” You spoke, already feeling the tiredness overcome like a blanket. Your hands unfolded and fallen to the side of your hips to walk towards the lonely bedroom in the back.

“Wait! You don’t want to know what kind of God I am???!” He yelled from afar, getting you to rub your temples as if a headache formed but it was just a person. “Not tonight Hoseok.”

Waking up the early mornings as the sunlight broke the frigid night, you pondered about the previous episode. It wasn’t every day you would stop by a thief, let alone sleep on your couch. Walking out of the bedroom exit, you noticed the curled-up ball of his form on the sofa, as you rebounded the strap around your hips. Your foot kicking at the lifeless leg hanging from the furniture, to receive a person who was creating eyebags of the harsh night.

“Wake up sleeping beauty” You commented with your rusty morning voice, to proceed in the kitchen of brewing coffee. The sound of bones cracking and an unpredictable moan, the man on the couch was sitting comfortable against the fabric. “What time is it?” He questioned, listening to a voice you wished to not hear again, because it was so god damn sexy. Raspy, low and just how you liked it. His footsteps dragged along the woodened floor, feeling his presence come close.

“About 10 o’clock.” Pouring up the hot coffee, sprinkled with a bit of sugar as he got himself a cup.

“So, Mr. Criminal” You continued, receiving a glare as of not using his name that he wished. You smiled cockily, as you stirred the liquid with a spoon. “How much is that ring worth, for you to steal it in the first place?” Your eyes layered upon the blue hued ring on his finger, as it glimpsed at the sunlight coming through the windows. The feel of magic and fantasy flowing through your veins, watching his smile unfold of the question.

“It’s not just an ordinary ring, but it’s worth nothing.” He answered, sipping on the coffee as the taste of bitter liquid hitting his taste buds. “Not unless you’re a Demi-God” His answer only made your temples pulsate at the thought of his previous confession, that there are Demi-Gods walking around on earth. As if you were placed in a movie, you weren’t supposed to be assigned to.

“This Demi-God thing, what’s it worth to you?” You questioned, closing your eyes as if it weren’t crazy enough to ask that.

“It’s worth everything to me, but enough about that. I’m very curious, why did you let me in so easily?” A kitten-like-face leaning upon his hand, watching your body lean against the counter table. You pondered along the sound of his purrs, waiting for an answer. To be fair, it was crazy for you to let a man, yet a supernatural being in your house. He could kill you if it meant that he only had to lift a finger, but it wasn’t the aura you got from him.

“How about, you prove to me that you’re a Demi-God and I will tell you why I let you inside, yeah?” Oh boy how were you regretting every word, as he gave you a devilish smile. You didn’t know what to expect, than everything becoming in slow motion. His body posture as tense like a hunter, as his eyes glowed brighter and that dammed beautiful smile. The messy morning hair stroked back, to see his form coming closer to stand, right in front of you.

“Do you feel it?” He whispered against your ear, as the hot breath hitting your neck. A hand stroking your arm, forming chills along your spine while the feel of your legs giving in. Eyes locked together, you could sense the universe in his orbs as if you became lose.

“A Demi-God in Energy. I take the life forms from flowers, electricity and people. I can feel your powering energy degrade by every second as I’m speaking, because I’m taking it away…” What was he doing to you, sucking out your energy? Your heart’s beat slowed down by each taking breath, catching you off guard feeling his hands continuing to be stroking your soft bare skin as nothing made sense.

“This doesn’t pro-“ Your own strength falling to below average as you gripped onto Hoseok’s shirt, clutching hard with the last mounts of your strength. His arms locking around your waist to keep you close, as the feel of your legs has disappeared.

“Careful now. You have quite the energy, and I was about to doubt if it would ever reach to this point…” He muttered, feeling your body shake within his touch. You couldn’t speak, the numbness of your body growing further to the rest of your dying limbs.

“Good thing is, I can always give it back… Want me to do that?” His forehead touching your own, holding you tighter to not let you fall on the ground. His eyes glowing once again, as you could only nod an answer. “Good girl, because if you didn’t want me to, you might die right here, and now”

The left arm of his grip loosened, tilting your head with the help of your chin. His slender fingers stroking the pink shaded lips of yours, as he locked his eyes on you. The tip of his nose rubbing your own, not even realising his lips coming closer by millimetres. His breath hitting your skin, warming it up before he brushed his soft lips against yours. It was sweet, and bitter from the coffee. You could sense the universe surrounding the earth of stars and beautiful hues of colours. It was overwhelming as your eyes closed to indulge in the kiss, as the feel of your energy getting restored. Soft, careful and daring, heating up by the second you could move yourself. It was too good to let go, as your consciousness returned. You were breathless, when the feel of his lips leaving your own and the stars disappearing like your own sanity. Pushing his broad chest away from your heated body, you touched the not so innocent lips.

“What the fuck Hoseok” You spoke, feeling embarrassed of the sudden seduction and submission. It wasn’t bad, at all and that’s what scared you. In less than 24-hours meeting a stranger, you were already kissing him.

“You told me to prove that I was a Demi-God. So I did?” He chuckled, walking back to sit on a bar chair.

“Was it necessary with the kiss?” You questioned with a whisper, seeing the flashbacks of his lips moving ever so delicate against yours. “No, but I did it anyways. It’s the fastest way to re-transfer the energy, didn’t like it?” He laughed, watching your rogue cheeks flush at the comment.

“Shut up.” You snickered, returning to make a decent breakfast. The burning feeling in the bottom of your core, was scaring you as how much you wanted to try it once again.

“so, about your acceptance of my stay, what’s the reason?” He spoke, raising a brow in expectations of a decent answer, but you just sighed in process.

“I was once the one who needed a place to crash. No one would let me in, and I had to sleep on benches. I know the suffering of being left alone, and that’s what I can’t let others happen to them. It’s too painful, being rejected a warm place, left in the cold.” You quickly spoke, turning around to avoid his eyes. They were burning in your back, as you felt the presence of his chest behind you. His gesture making you turn around, to face his caring eyes that you never knew would come again. “Thank you.” He replied, giving a securing smile of importance of one’s suffering.

Hoseok continued to live on your couch, to settle on a nights evening to watch your favourite movie even if it meant chic-flicks. You learned about the historic adventures of his traveling and how long he had stayed on earth. Hoseok was an appreciated Demi-God in a different world outside your own, as the fallen angel. The power he consumed was bigger than any other Demi-God’s, due to its power of sucking and giving energy. He has had a ‘normal’ human life, sent back to learn a lesson, but never knew when he could go back. It’s been several years, stuck on a walking pavement as the same silhouette of people and buildings with criminals hiding inside.

Your bodies cuddled up on the couch, remembering the weeks together spent doing what you loved. You grew to love a stranger that rescued your ass from idiots, and not just any stranger, but a dismissed God. His fingers knowing every curve of your body, how you sound when things are stressed or the tension rising. He promised to never use his powers on you or the house, unless it meant an energy shut down. He became a friend, your best friend and lover. The ways he continued to help cook, hear your thoughts and massage the stress away when things were out of control.

“Can I ask you something?” You questioned, letting go of the cave you have hidden in at the crook of his soft neck. His familiar smile and curiosity peeking, turning to face you while continuing to brush his fingers through your hair. “Shoot.”

“What does the Myosotis ring have to do with you?” You continued, feeling his chest rise before an exhausted sigh escaped. Hoseok wasn’t sure what to say, because of the selfish lies that bought with him on his shoulders. His fingers glazing upon the blue-hued ring, feeling its power radiate against his touch.

“When I was sent here due to my selfish mistakes, I never knew what they wanted me to do. They told me to learn a lesson… but not what it was. I was probably too busy blocking out the info of the fact that I was kicked out of heaven, that I missed it. It’s been years… and I finally found the ring” He spoke with a low tone, taking the ring off in attempt of looking at the silver outline. His eyes adverted on the one piece of jewellery, that were nothing but recognition.

“Do you know the flower, Myosotis? The ring is named after the flower, because the one person that wears it, will never be forgotten…. It’s foolish, I know. But I deeply thought, that they had forgotten about me. That I was nothing more, than a human.” He finished, pursing his lips into a thin line. Your heart breaking at the thought, of how lonely Hoseok must have been. Left by himself because his mistakes of choosing what he could do, than what others wanted him to. Your finger brushing gently against his bare chest, before lining his sharp jawline. Your lips softly planted on his cheek to show him love, compassion and security, like he has done to you this whole time.

“I will never forget you, Hoseok.” You whispered, receiving a smile that almost blinded your sight. His lips returned the sweetened kiss, before aligning the ring upon your finger.

“I hope not. But, with this, I will never forget you either.” Your love shared in time and space of unknown materials, that right here and now, you had Hoseok by your side. Your kisses and bed time stories received with comfort and affectionate love, was more than you could ever ask for.

The same night, cuddled into his embrace, Hoseok was having a sleepless night. For a typical reason, as another Demi-God walking around on earth. Hoseok sensed him just a few days ago, but shrug it off as it disappeared from time to time. But he always knew, the other God was there. It was thing between Demi-Gods to sense each other, for evil or good, it didn’t matter. In this situation, he didn’t know what to expect. But one thing he knew, was that it wouldn’t take long before the Demi-God would find him. Kissing you on the forehead, before heading out of the bedroom, memorising the slim hallway with pictures of the two of you hanging in beautiful frames. Hoseok felt honoured, to be a part of your life, but it was time to go.

“Yoongi.” Hoseok blurted out, seeing the silhouette scanning the unfamiliar room. Yoongi was Hoseok’s partner in crime, when it came to things in heaven. The paradise they created together, has found balance as to find justice together.

“It’s time to go home, Hoseok.” Yoongi commented, hugging the friend he has missed so much after years of being separated. Hoseok was happy, finding another of his own kind but it also meant, that he had to give a farewell of the other part that bought him joy.

“Why now?” He asked after letting go of his friend, watching the facial expression of joy turn serious. “You have learned to love, to respect another being. You have become benevolent, and changed. The God’s want you back in your service, now.” Yoongi explained, walking towards the exit as the light aligned in the creek of the door. It was the entrance to heaven, to where Hoseok belonged. It was the feel of nostalgia, that made him take steps towards it, but stopped at the thought of you.

“Can I get a minute…?” Hoseok requested, watching a single nod before walking back to the bedroom. Your body curled into a ball on the bed, with the sheets covering the petty things that he loved. The way you laughed, smiled, sarcasm and just you. Your hair spread along the white pillow, brushing his fingers through it one last time, waking you up in the process.

“Hoseok..?” You muttered in half-dread, watching the tears form in the corner of his eyes. “Hey….” He replied with his choking voice, watching you sit up from the bed, to hold your arms on his chest. The feel of his heart beating slow and steady, but why did he look so sad?

“I have to go for a while….” He added, drying away the tears that threatened to roll down. He wanted you to remember the smiles he gave, the love he glowed than the sorrowful pain he was in right now.

“Where..? For how long…?” You questioned brushing your fingers along his heated cheek, clutching harder to his arm for not letting him go, receiving an assuring smile of ‘don’t worry’, but you couldn’t help it. Hoseok didn’t speak a word, than his eye glowing the familiar golden hue. The tears falling harder, and soon you were mirroring him. None of you could speak a word, neither could you resists the feel of exhaustion hit your body. Your mind was awake, but he was taking away your force.

“I love you… I will always love you.” He muttered under his breathless voice, holding back his tears without vail. Your eyes closing at the feel of his lips upon yours one last time, not knowing that was the last time you would see him with your own eyes. Your sleepless body, taken away from all energy, he tucked you in as he always did before bed. But this time, without him in it. His finger brushing against Myosotis ring, that was placed upon your finger forever. He left your presence, before taking one last sight.

“I fulfilled your condition, but I had to break a promise. I’m sorry…” He choked one last cry, leaving the room unclosed as he found Yoongi leaning against the doorway. Hoseok’s blood shot eyes, made Yoongi only give one last glance, unsure if he should question it or continue to ignore the problems that always occurred in their presence.

“We should go.” Hoseok finished, walking through the gate without looking back. The image of your beautiful face plastered in his mind, was hoping you would keep yours, even though he broke his. Don’t forget him.

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mcdouglecompany-blog · 5 years

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Trump Should Go Nuclear and Defy the Courts, Antifascists go Full Fascist, Keynes vs Hayek Rap Battle, North Korea- Hell on Earth.

GOP Rep. Chip Roy urges President Trump to go nuclear and defy the courts.

Antifascist mob goes FULL fascist in Portland. Glenn Beck

The Truth About the Antifa Attack on Andy Ngo. Stefan Molyneux

"Fight of the Century": Keynes vs. Hayek Rap Battle Round Two.

Hell on earth: The horrors of North Korean torture camps

GOP Rep. Chip Roy urges President Trump to go nuclear and defy the courts.

Chris Pandolfo · June 27, 2019

Rep. Chip Roy, R-Texas, on Wednesday called for President Trump to defy nationwide injunctions imposed by federal courts on his immigration policies and secure the border.

Roy (Liberty Score A, 100%) was speaking on BlazeTV’s “Steve Deace Show” when he said it’s time for a “Jacksonian moment” from President Trump.

“You’ve talked about the court challenges this administration faces virtually any time it tries to honor any of its campaign pledges. What legal advice would you give them? At what point … would you advise them to stop taking [nationwide] injunctions and all the rest of this seriously?” host Steve Deace asked.

“I would tell the president to do that now. The time is now,” Roy responded. “We need a Jacksonian moment where the president of the United States looks at the courts and says, ‘you enforce that law.'”

President Andrew Jackson is famously attributed with responding to a Supreme Court opinion he had no intention of abiding by, saying, “John Marshall has made his decision; now let him enforce it!” Roy wants Trump to have the same attitude toward nationwide injunctions against his border policies.

Roy said the nationwide injunctions imposed by federal courts have prevented the Trump administration from securing the border. He cited the example of the 9th Circuit Court blocking Trump’s policy if having asylum-seekers wait for their cases to be processed in Mexico instead of waiting in the United States, where many illegal aliens have disappeared before their day in court.

Roy suggested that if that policy were allowed to go into effect, migrants would be disincentivized from attempting the dangerous journey across the Rio Grande river into the United States, knowing that they will be turned around after claiming asylum.

“People would have to go to the ports of entry, and then perhaps that man and that child would still be alive today,” Roy said, referring to the viral photo of a migrant father and his toddler daughter washed up dead on the shore of the Rio Grande river.

Federal judges have also issued nationwide injunctions blocking the Trump administraiton’s moratorium on travel to and from Middle East countries with terrorist activity, blocking Trump’s plan to give federal grants to police who enforce immigration laws, and blocking Trump administration policies rolling back Obamacare’s contraception rule and defunding doctors who perform abortions.

“This is a perpetual problem and at some point a president of the United States is going to have to look at the court and tell that court to pound sand when it is stepping over the ability of the American people to govern ourselves,” Roy said. “The president has the basic constitutional duty to secure the border of the United States and it’s absurd that we’re bowing down to the whims of judges and allowing that to create our policy so that now people are dying and getting harmed because we can’t actually do our job to secure the border.”

Antifascist mob goes FULL fascist in Portland.

Watch this video at- https://youtu.be/aKar_Uji8yk

Glenn Beck

Published on Jul 1, 2019

Over the weekend, journalist Andy Ngo and several other apparent right-leaning people were brutally beaten by masked-gangs of Antifa protesters in Portland, Oregon. Short for “antifascist,” Antifa claims to be fighting for social justice and tolerance — by forcibly and violently silencing anyone with opposing opinions. Ngo, who was kicked, punched, and sprayed with an unknown substance, is currently still in the hospital with a “brain bleed” as a result of the savage attack. Watch the video to get the details from Glenn. ► Click HERE to subscribe to Glenn Beck https://bit.ly/2UVLqhL ► Click HERE to subscribe to BlazeTV: https://www.blazetv.com/glenn Connect with Glenn on Social Media: http://twitter.com/glennbeck http://instagram.com/glennbeck http://facebook.com/glennbeck

The Truth About the Antifa Attack on Andy Ngo

https://youtu.be/-OSA9KjCiGU

Stefan Molyneux

Published on Jun 30, 2019

Andy Ngo is a Quillette editor and reporter who was assaulted by Antifa members during a rally in Portland, Oregon. On June 29, left-wing activists came to Pioneer Courthouse Square in the city to counter a Proud Boy rally named “Him Too” which was due to take place at 1 p.m. Ngo said he was recognized by counter-protesters. Ngo tweeted, “Attacked by antifa. Bleeding. They stole my camera equipment. No police until after. waiting for ambulance. If you have evidence Of attack please help.” In a subsequent message, Ngo reported that he was “beat on face and head multiple times.” He described his assailants as being “at large.” In one of the videos, Ngo says, “I just got beat up by the crowd – no police at all – in the middle of the street. And they stole my GoPro. And they punched me several times in my face and head, and I’m bleeding.” Andy Ngo has since been hospitalized with a brain bleed. After the assault on Ngo, the Portland Police Department said in a statement, “Police have received information that some of the milkshakes thrown today during the demonstration contained quick-drying cement. We are encouraging anyone hit with a substance today to report it to police.” ▶️ Donate Now: http://www.freedomainradio.com/donate ▶️ Sign Up For Our Newsletter: http://www.fdrurl.com/newsletter Your support is essential to Freedomain Radio, which is 100% funded by viewers like you. Please support the show by making a one time donation or signing up for a monthly recurring donation at: http://www.freedomainradio.com/donate Audio: https://soundcloud.com/stefan-molyneu... ▶️ 1. Donate: http://www.freedomainradio.com/donate ▶️ 2. Newsletter Sign-Up: http://www.fdrurl.com/newsletter ▶️ 3. On YouTube: Subscribe, Click Notification Bell ▶️ 4. Subscribe to the Freedomain Podcast: http://www.fdrpodcasts.com ▶️ 5. Follow Freedomain on Alternative Platforms 🔴 Bitchute: http://bitchute.com/freedomainradio 🔴 DLive: http://dlive.tv/freedomain 🔴 Minds: http://minds.com/stefanmolyneux 🔴 Steemit: http://steemit.com/@stefan.molyneux 🔴 Gab: http://gab.ai/stefanmolyneux 🔴 Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/stefanmolyneux 🔴 Facebook: http://facebook.com/stefan.molyneux 🔴 Instagram: http://instagram.com/stefanmolyneux Amazon Affiliate Links ▶️ US: http://www.fdrurl.com/Amazon ▶️ Canada: http://www.fdrurl.com/AmazonCanada ▶️ UK: http://www.fdrurl.com/AmazonUK

"Fight of the Century": Keynes vs. Hayek Rap Battle Round Two.

https://youtu.be/GTQnarzmTOc

Emergent Order

Published on Apr 28, 2011

"Fight of the Century" is the new economics hip-hop music video by John Papola and Russ Roberts at http://EconStories.tv. According to the National Bureau of Economic Research, the Great Recession ended in the summer of 2009. Yet we're all uneasy. Job growth has been disappointing. The recovery seems fragile. Where should we head from here? Is that question even meaningful? Can the government steer the economy or have past attempts helped create the mess we're still in? In "Fight of the Century", Keynes and Hayek weigh in on these central questions. Do we need more government spending or less? What's the evidence that government spending promotes prosperity in troubled times? Can war or natural disasters paradoxically be good for an economy in a slump? Should more spending come from the top down or from the bottom up? What are the ultimate sources of prosperity? Keynes and Hayek never agreed on the answers to these questions and they still don't. Let's listen to the greats. See Keynes and Hayek throwing down in "Fight of the Century"! Starring Billy and Adam from http://www.billyandadam.com DOWNLOAD THE SONG in the highest quality possible here: https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/fig...

Subscribe to our channel: http://www.youtube.com/user/econstories If you enjoyed this video, you should watch this one next: http://youtu.be/Mq2iQAsJAhI Produced by Emergent Order. Visit us at http://emergentorder.com.

Hell on earth: The horrors of North Korean torture camps

BoKnowsEntertainment

Published on Jun 20, 2017

Story links: 'Kim Jong Un murdered Otto Warmbier': Furious John McCain says North Korea killed American student who was put into a fatal coma while imprisoned for stealing a poster http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/artic... US orders supersonic B-1B bomber show of force mission against Kim Jung Un's North Korea after death of American student Otto Warmbier http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/artic... Hell on earth: Otto Warmbier's death from mystery brain damage brings fresh scrutiny to the horrors of North Korea's brutal torture camps - See more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/artic... Previously: Otto Warmbier dies after being brought back to US from N Korea https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=laE98... North Korea accuses US of 'mugging' its diplomats at JFK airport https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJqeW... Fears Russian yacht & 3 crew seized by North Korea in Sea of Japan https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0P_4... Visas for tourists going to North Korea are issued in ‘less than month’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLcwo... Kim Jong-un uses decoy vehicles to avoid assassination https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxKxV... Otto Warmbier returns from North Korea with 'severe neurological injury' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1YuV... Dennis Rodman gives Kim Jong-un books; The Art of the Deal & Where’s Waldo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MFSjK... North Korean Soldier Defects by Walking Across Fortified DMZ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pMCwC... North Korea releases US citizen Otto Warmbier in medical evacuation https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PtGh... Dennis Rodman lands in North Korea for first time since election https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M-oCR... Dennis Rodman - Basketball Diplomat to N. Korea https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nio84... Dennis Rodman says Kim Jong-un is 'just like anybody else' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GywNo... North Korea responds to Trump's tweets with threat to nuke New York https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HK5KX... North Korea missiles CAN reach US and 'will be fired IMMINENTLY’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHGzP... North Korea could reportedly wreak havoc with high altitude nuclear blast https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64jUC... N Korea claims new cruise missile can crush US, S Korean warships https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c7dJi... Father and son escape North Korea after rescue at sea https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxfRO... North Korea fires multiple missiles off its east coast https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fACLd... North Korea calls Trump 'selfish' for pulling out of Paris climate deal https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-B3Nh... North Korea 'will not flinch from the road to build up nuclear forces' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j1IsL... Japan prepares for evacuation over fears of North Korea missile attack https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfGtC... North Koreans found dead in Moscow 'had received injections' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fy_ei... North Korea's spy chief to have his assets frozen under new US sanctions https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_D7y... North Korea Promises ICBM Test Hours After Successful US Intercept Test https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaPRQ... Kim Jong-un orders the mass production of the new anti-aircraft defense system https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmHCy... N Korea warns 'inhumane' US that Kim will launch nukes 'at any time & place' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOQdM... US military are preparing to 'incapacitate' Kim Jong-un https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d241d... North Koreans 'sold to Europe to work then stripped of pay' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xq-uC... Satellite images reveal North Korea is expanding brutal prison camps https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qBISM... A Series of Unfortunate Events / Depopulation; the Documentary https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umv-H... Jesus Reincarnate - The new meat gesuis https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2sbC... Oxy Contin and Beezlebub https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DhadM... Humpty Dumpty https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1hogz... Conky reads Jeremiah 25: 34-38 - The Cry of the Shepherds https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIbG7...

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