The Fight For The Movellas Throne

In the kingdom of Movellas, King Jordan Philips ruled over the people, and everyone was happy. Until, that is, the neighboring kingdom, the land of the Directioners, declared war. Townsfolk were forced into hiding, and soon the Royals of the Kingdom had disappeared. Few must rise up, to help conquer the Directioners once and for all, and find the Royals of Movellas!

WARNING: This is an anti-One Direction fiction. I'm very much against them in my writing, so please don't have a go at me, saying 'How could you say that?' because IT'S A BIT OF A JOKE. NO OFFENCE INTENDED. THANKS. Anyways, enjoy!

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9. Chapter 7

For those of you who either neglected my warning or cannot read (though goodness knows what you're doing on this site if that is the case), I am now forced to tell the rest of this sad, sad tale. There I was, all set to never return to this site after deciding to get on with my life, but one day I return and - lo and behold! - I see comments. And likes. Which means people are still reading this. Meaning, being the pathetic and paranoid person I am, I am forced to continue. A LOT has changed. Mumbles? Papellas? Makes me feel old, frankly.

But, I digress. Here we are.

✎ ✏ 

"What, thought this was all their doing? Those sleazy, spineless singing show-dogs?" Jordan's eyes gleamed with malice as he said it, surveying the astonished expressions upon the Movellian's faces with glee. "That I, the mighty King Jordan, had gone into hiding, but still loved my precious Movellian subjects?" He sang the last three words in a simpering, whining tone, opening his arms to gesture to the seven - two of whom were still unconscious - previously proud writers kneeling below.

"But-" Imogen started.

"Oh, yes, I was so loyal, such a strong leader, wasn't I? Lying was always a talent of mine. Naturally, when I learnt that-"

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" came a voice from the other end of the chamber. As Imogen glanced round, she saw Zoe, standing precariously on her feet; Writer's Block had clearly got to her too. Presumably, she had been awake for some time, listening in and choosing when to display her outburst. "What use are we to you?" she asked feebly, gripping the mildewy wall for support. "Why not just let us rot?"

"Three excellent questions," Jordan grinned. "The answer to all of which is: You give me power. I can feed off you. The energy your ideas produce can be used for... various reasons."

Princesses Icecream and Feather and Prince Bash had looks on their faces showing this wasn't the first time they'd heard this, but idea still brought back uneasy memories. Jordan, noticing this, sidled over to the Royals until he was nose-to-nose with Prince Bash.

"Ah, Bash. Of course, you know all of this already. And more, I imagine. Care to elaborate?"

Eyes darting around anxiously, Bash gulped, then whispered:

"He's been sapping imagination from us for years. He takes away your quill, locks you in here, and takes any story lines you have...throws in a couple of members of One Direction, and... another fan fiction is made. That's how so many get produced. We've been unwillingly writing Fanfics for two years. They can even fall into other categories now, like-" the final word was choked out: "Fantasy." - Bash's true love of literature.

Bash buried his head in his knees, and didn't utter another word.

Just out of the corner of her eye, Imogen saw just the tiniest, silent movement from Lia's direction; she was awake now.

"That is despicable." Imogen whispered, with all the strength she could muster.

"Despicable, maybe, but absolutely brilliant."

Seven pairs of eyes belonging to seven Movellians glanced round to identify the source of that voice, until they all fell on one man.

One of five men, if you could call them that.

For, standing in the doorway were five figures, easily recognisable.

One direction, the queer quintet themselves.

 

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