They Say I'm Evil |Jay x Reader|

𝐏 𝐑 𝐎 𝐋 𝐎 𝐆 𝐔 𝐄

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐄—which were typically alive with all sorts of life—were silent. The stars painted the night sky and there was a full moon resting at its peak in the sky, looming over all those who were sleeping. The moon Goddess, Selena, watched over everyone in their homes or—in this case—on the streets in their makeshift homes. However, on the Isle, it was never always quiet. There was always one soul, or a group of people, running around the island causing chaos and trying to ruin or destroy whatever they could before the sun rose and they risked being caught by someone. In this case, it was no different. Because of the barrier, the Isle never really experienced any form of weather asides from the sun. It would stop the rain, snow and even the wind from reaching the Isle and because of this it was typically always hot. However, on this particular night, it was cold out for the very first time in over nine months since they put up the barrier since he escaped.

Everyone who's lived on the Isle of the Lost since before Beast became King would agree that tonight was a strange night. Something—or someone—was disturbing whatever peace the Isle had left to offer.

A woman, wearing all-black clothes that hung loosely from her body, in an attempt to cover up all her scars, was running through the streets of the Isle with a bundle of blankets in her arms. Tears streaks stained her cheeks, but no one would've noticed them because of the thin layer of sweat that covered her face. A sharp metal object that was strapped against her hip with a leather belt in its small scabbard, hit her thigh with every step she took.

Her original plan to dispose of this thing—this curse—she held in her arms didn't work. She knew that Mary and Michael wouldn't have approved of what she was originally going to do to it. She knew that the crystal she wore around her neck would've stopped her or that it wouldn't have deemed her worthy in the first place to wear it around her neck. She knew that he wouldn't have approved of it either.

Keeping this thing was never an option. It ruined her life, it was something she never wanted part of, but she couldn't just kill it. It was her child, after all, it was part of her in some way, but she was also the daughter of that monster and monsters belonged with one another after all. She couldn't bear to look at her child's face for another second.

So she left her there, on the steps of Chernabog's—the father of this child—castle in the middle of the Isle right in front of the broken bridge.

...

A little girl, who was around the age of five, was running around her home with her four friends. Mal, daughter of Maleficent and the one to claim to be the 'leader' of the group of kids, declared that it would've been better to play outside so that they wouldn't disturb their parents' plotting to escape the Isle. Like always, everyone just did as she says and followed the purple-haired girl around like lost puppies, especially Evie.

That was how it always was and it's been as long as that since all five kids could remember. Maleficent would tell Mal to bring all her friends outside while she and the other villains would lock themselves in the makeshift throne room, but in reality, it's their entire main floor just combined into one. Mal wished that her mother would let her participate in all their evil scheming so that she could be just like her mother, but every time she asked, Maleficent would always say no.

She just wanted to be like her mother; evil, wicked and Chernabog's next prodigy.

As the children ran, laughed and played innocently in the front of the castle, a figure loomed over them, watching them from the balcony that was attached to his office. He switched from watching his daughter to gazing at Auradon, a near appearance on his face every time he thought about all those who did him wrong, who banished him here for the past nine years. Usually, he'd never pay his daughter this much attention, but today, he sense something he hasn't sensed in a while. A power—a strong one—emanated from his child and it was growing with every innocent giggle that left her mouth.