#but the dog literally has 3 brain cells and the worst damage it could do is sit on your leg weird

[daisybees]

I went down a rabbit hole of projecting ™ last night but: Older eddie getting a dog, specifically a Newfoundland, is very important to me. a big shaggy haired beast of an animal that people are afraid of, but is the sweetest couch potato of all time? good with children? big dumb brown eyes? they say dogs look like their owners right?

what the fuck i’m so married to this idea

[koiblossom5]

tr characters at a sleepover

takemichi: probably the most normal one, which is not a good sign. he’s the type to chomp down aggressively on popcorn during scary movies bc that’s how scared he is. he’s also the first one to pass out, making him the ideal target for pranks (courtesy of mikey, smiley, and kazutora)

mikey: oh god oh fuck. this very violent gremlin will hog all of the snacks, and by all, I mean ALL of them (he’s willing to lend takemichi the popcorn though). nobody can get any sleep bc this little shit snores louder than a vacuum cleaner, much to everyone’s annoyance. oh and the nasty ass creature that’s stealing all of the food in your fridge at night? that’s not your sleep paralysis demon. that’s just mikey with his stupid 3 am snacking.

draken: takes on the role as mikey’s impulse control, but only because no one else will do it. everyone cuddles up toward him during the scary movie because he’s strong and has a very reassuring presence. by the end of the movie, he can’t feel either of his arms or legs. he’ll be willing to buy extra snacks from the local dollar store just so he can get away from mikey.

baji: honestly? just as annoying as mikey. he’s ready to get wild, and constantly squabbles over the snacks with mikey (but he’s willing to share with chifuyu). he lets emma play with his hair while he gets his nails done by chifuyu. before sleeping, everyone has to roll baji up into a blanket burrito because this mf will NOT stop kicking in his sleep. have you ever been strangled in your sleep? oh don’t worry that’s probably just baji dreaming of choking kisaki to death

chifuyu: sneaks peke j in because he can’t sleep without his cat. thankfully, he’s one of the calmer people, probably second to takemichi. he also brings over his nail polish and offers to do everyone’s nails! oh uh, ignore the barfing noises in the background: that’s just chifuyu after he’s eaten one pop tart too many. given up on sleep yet?

mitsuya: he’s willing to be more chill. he loves his sisters, but it’s practically a gift from heaven having one night to himself. he brings all of the snacks, much to mikey’s delight. he’s also probably surprisingly calm during the scary movie, but only because he had a weird but short phase sometime during middle school where he would watch nothing but horror movies. it explains a lot about luna and mana’s upbringing, actually. he’ll try to get inui to model in some clothes for him, much to hakkai’s jealously.

hakkai: slightly bummed because mikey has a super tight grip on the snacks and won’t seem to share (it’s fine, draken is going to get some more). also, mitsuya is asking someone ELSE to model for him, which he seriously can’t stand. luckily, he has someone to rant to (ahem, angry) while he gets his nails done by chifuyu. he’s terrified out of his mind during the movie, screaming really loudly during the jump scares. it’s an odd sight: hakkai’s six foot ass cowering behind mitsuya, who’s calmly munching on some popcorn with takemichi without batting an eye.

pah chin: don’t tell koko, but he somehow managed to sneak his dog, pochi into the fucking house. chifuyu’s not the only one who can’t sleep without his pet. peh-yan is the only one who knows pochi is there. they hide pochi in a closet, occasionally feeding pochi some leftover snacks that mikey hasn’t claimed yet. it’s literally the worst kept secret because these two share a collective brain cell, but somehow no one has noticed yet because there’s too much chaos going on. unfortunately, the closet they hide pochi in just happens to be where koko’s shoes and fancy clothes are stored. don’t worry! koko doesn’t find out until the very next morning, or the morning after THAT, because he’s so exhausted he literally passes out for two days. that’s how much of a headache these dumbasses are

peh yan: nervously helps pah-chin smuggle pochi inside koko’s house. he nearly spills the secret like three times to five different people, but everyone thinks he’s joking. he works off the stress by playing (several) rounds of mario kart with smiley, who is unsurprisingly good at it. after the end of his rage-quit, the TV’s shattered and broken, the consoles are split into two, and koko’s headache turns into a migraine.

smiley (nahoya): whatever you do, do NOT turn your back on this fucking demon. he’s all ready to party and get wild, and by party, he means pranking the shit out of everyone at least once. he’s already got to takemichi literally after he just stepped into the house with the classic bucket prank. takemichi seems to be his favorite target by far, partially because he’s so easy to prank. he reluctantly stops filling the water balloons with boiling hot water only because mitsuya catches him in the act. did I mention that his son of a bitch craves violence?

angry (souya): kind of becomes everyone’s therapist for tonight. he sympathetically listens to his friends’ ranting, purely because he just wants all the tea (keeping a secret? forget it. he’s gonna spill to smiley like ten seconds later anyways). during the water balloon fight, he grabs a giant nerf gun instead, which automatically makes him the winner because everyone’s desperately trying to escape his carnage. after all, he was closest to winning smiley’s paintball party last year. 

koko: man I feel so sorry for this guy. everyone chooses his fancy-ass mansion for the location of their sleepover (without permission because permission is for weak ass nerds ofc ). his blood stress and headache is higher than usual, which is saying something. you know that feeling when you’ve had a busy day at school, and your backpack is so fucking heavy it’s practically killing your spine, neck and shoulders? that’s what he’s feeling right now, but worse. don’t worry, everyone trashed his house, but paying for the property damage will barely scratch his bank account.

inui: it’s a little awkward for him because he’s rarely slept over at someone else’s house (other than koko’s), and he isn’t quite close to the others yet. he pointedly avoids other people (mitsuya, who he literally whacked over the head with a baseball bat, hakkai, because he used to be taiju’s subordinate, mikey. because mikey made it very clear that he doesn’t like inui very much, and koko, because fuck you, read the manga). he sticks close to draken’s side and kind of just follows him everywhere until draken tells him to get to know the others better. that leads to him chatting quietly with takemichi, who seems to welcome him. chifuyu’s very eager to paint his nails (red, because it’s the colour of mitsuya’s blood after he got whammied in the head!). mitsuya is determined to make inui his new model project (again, much to hakkai’s envy and distress), and tries to talk to him, which makes inui avoid him because he’s worried that mitsuya’s going to confront him. luckily, it turns out that mitsuya just wants him to try on some clothes, much to inui’s relief. he ends up making some new friends!

kazutora: you thought mikey and baji was bad, huh? well kazutora is (arguably) worse. he’ll keep it civil for the first hour, only making like, 20 snide comments toward chifuyu while chifuyu is doing his nails (the only thing that’s keeping chifuyu from dumping acrylic nail polish all over on kazutora’s stupid egirl banana hair is that the nail polish was expensive as hell ). kazutora’s favorite prank victim also happens to be poor takemichi, which leads to a competition between smiley and kazutora to see who can prank takemichi the most. suffice to say, takemichi had a truly awesome horrible night.

kisaki: i’d like to make one thing clear. this bastard was NOT invited at all. he’d be a mood killer to have around anyways. even if he was, chifuyu would have killed him before he could even take a single step inside the house.

hanma: in a hypothetical turn of events, let’s just say that if hanma WAS at the sleepover (hypothetically, of course), he would be just as chaotic as smiley, except his idea of “fun” is setting something on fire with those stupid cigarettes of his (don’t smoke kids!! protect your lungs). stealing baji’s forte? not cool hanma. :/

[edream93]

I’m Hooked On All These Feelings (Harry of Auradon AU) Part 10

Hey everyone! Sorry that I haven’t updated since October. It was a combination of being stuck and just having a lot of different stuff going on in my life. I’m honestly not 100% satisfied with this chapter but let me know what you all think. This is also posted on on AO3 or FF.net. Here’s the link for Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,  Part 6 ,  Part 7, Part 8, and Part 9 of the story so far.

EARLIER

Uma crossed, then uncrossed, her legs. Her foot began tapping a staccato beat as she watched Evie step back from Gil and admire her work in the moon’s light. 

Though Evie had assured her that Carlos had taken care of the cell’s security system and that the apple turnovers laced with sleeping potion would keep the guards knocked out until well into the next day, that still didn’t ease Uma’s need to constantly look over her shoulder. When one was used to things going wrong, one couldn’t help but fear glowing green eyes hiding around each corner ready to cause trouble. 

Evie and Carlos had helped her this far, but Isle habits still made Uma’s skin crawl with anxiety, waiting for either a setup or for them to finally demand a price for their help. Afterall, it had been only her and Gil for so long that she found it hard to trust anyone else. Nothing was free. Everything came with a price. That was the one thing her mother made sure she remembered.  

  Afterall, Evie was working her magic on their makeup disguises. Literally. If Uma was in her position, she would be charging by every brush stroke.  

Despite applying several different products that Uma could never hope to keep track of, the Evil Queen’s daughter had worked her magic with a makeup brush and fake hair making Gil look like himself...but also, not like himself. She glanced over at Gil once again but after a few seconds of staring she felt her eyes and thoughts begin to slide off Gil if she didn’t force herself to focus on him. Uma knew that if she looked in a mirror the makeup Evie had done just a few minutes ago on her would have had a similar effect. 

“Her magic is definitely less flashy than Mal’s. It’s like a notice-me-not spell or something,” Carlos brought her attention to him. He stood awkwardly, fiddling with a loose thread of his jacket’s sleeve. Despite his mother’s obsession with dogs and constantly being referred to as “pup” amongst many of the Isle residents, Carlos reminded Uma more of a skittish and weary cat more than anything else. “T-that would be useful back home,” he murmured so softly Uma almost didn’t hear him. 

Her hand reached up to twirl one of her braids thoughtfully around her finger. The motion stopped suddenly when she remembered she had hastily cut and taken her braids out, before twisting her much shorter hair into flat braids against her skull and pulling one of the theatre clubs stolen black wigs over it. 

It was itchy and tight against her scalp and she wanted nothing more than to rip it off. 

 “Back home?” Uma scowled. “You sound like you’re planning to make a trip back there,” she commented before letting out a humorless chuckle. She quirked a brow as she leaned against one of the library’s many tables. “What? Miss the moldy food and the constant risk of catching pneumonia or hypothermia already?”

Carlos ran a hand over the book spines on a nearby shelf, the corner of his lips tugged down thoughtfully. “Guess I’m just not that optimistic about this whole wand thing. That Mal or her mom won’t try to cut out any competition once she’s free. And who knows,” he shrugged absentmindedly pulling out a book, flipping through the pages, “after the Coronation, the Isle may not be the worst place to be in once Auradon goes up in flames.” He paused putting the book back. Then, he glanced over his shoulder at her, observing her silently as if weighing his options before saying, “Unless...”

Uma narrowed her eyes. “Unless what, De Vil?”

Nervous energy radiated off of him in almost palpable waves so Uma was slightly impressed when Carlos looked up at her, gaze steady. “Unless someone gives Mal a run for her money and stands up to her.”

Pausing, Uma let his words sink in before she let out a short laugh of disbelief at his utterly ridiculous insinuation. ‘He couldn’t mean- That would be ridiculous!’ she thought to herself before saying out loud, “Hm, right. You sure that Tourney helmet is actually protecting that big brain of yours when you get tackled? Because you must have some brain damage, De Vil, if you think that-

“I was there you know,” Carlos cut her off, voice seeming loud in the quiet library. His cheeks and the top of his ears reddened but he continued. “When, um. When the shrimp thing happened...” 

Uma stilled. It was like she could feel the cold slime of rotten shrimp sliding down the back of her shirt all over again. Her hand reached up once again to grab a braid that wasn’t there, to check and see if there was any trace of the smell. Her shoulders hunched and Mal’s ten year old laugh rang in her head. 

It felt like drowning. Drowning when you didn’t even know your head had been above water in the first place. 

“Yeah? So? A whole bunch of people were there! Ya want a sticker for that or something?” Uma hissed, all defensive walls and a bruised heart as she stepped toe to toe with the boy. “If you want to satisfy that praise kink of yours find someone else, pup!”

Behind them, Uma sensed Gil taking a closer step towards her. Gil hadn’t been there when Mal poured the bucket but he had been there for everything else - protecting her, patching her up, sitting with her and rambling about unimportant things in her darkest of moments until she could find the strength to cling onto his words with a tired attempt to mock him - and that alone made Uma hold her head up high, rage controlled but ready to crash down like a wave at any moment. 

She didn’t owe this pup anything.

Carlos’s frame shook. The one person on the Isle whose life may have been worse than her own. Despite his obvious fear, his eyes never broke from hers. 

“I saw you,” Carlos firmly stated. “You laughed at Mal but…”

“BUT?” Uma demanded, her patience on its last string. She could feel the heat coming off of Gil from behind her and she knew her friend was giving his most intimidating glare. Carlos, however, must have taken some actual courage potion because he still didn’t back down.

“But you came back for her!” 

Uma baulked, taking an unconscious step back into Gil as if she had been slapped, not prepared for that response.

 “When anyone else wouldn’t have cared. You did. You tried to help her because you knew she couldn’t swim. She was your friend and that was what friends do. They care.”

Uma closed her eyes, the tense energy released from her in a breath until all she felt was tired. She pinched her brow. “Yeah,” she sighed softly. “My stupidest mistake. More reason why I’m not- why I’m not...whatever you’re trying to make me be.”

“Why not?” Evie’s voice caused Uma to spin around and face the girl. She had been unusually quiet, much different from her airheaded chatty persona she put on around Mal and the royals. 

Honestly, if there was anyone right now that Uma felt weary of it was Evie. Mal she expected to be cruel. Jay she expected to do whatever was in his best interest. Carlos she expected to align himself with whoever would beat him up less. Evie...well, Uma can’t imagine being exiled to stay in a rundown castle with the Evil Queen to have left anyone without some...resentment...   

“You’re cunning,” Evie ticked off her fingers. “You’re smart. And you’re powerful.”

Powerful? That was not a word that Uma would ever associate with herself, especially not on the Isle. But Uma prided herself on being able to figure out what others wanted and how to exploit that the best way she could. Evie had no tell though. She was being honest, a rare occurrence with Isle kids but that just meant the girl was delusional because Uma did not have magic.

There had been that slight fluke when they had crossed the bridge from the Isle to Auradon in the limo weeks ago. It was like the ebb and flow of waves caressing her bones briefly in recognition before it sputtered out.

One could argue that she had felt her magic for the first time. Her magic which the Isle’s barrier had muted for all of her life, leaving an inexplicable ache that she had never truly been aware of. 

Days passed after crossing over into Auradon and Mal performed spells from her spellbook as easily as breathing. Evie was able to use her mother’s mirror or stitch together the most heinous looking patterns into wearable art. Uma, however, had to resign herself to the fact that she didn’t have any magic. 

She couldn’t make the small stream of water from the water fountain splash itself into Char Charming’s face after he had called Gil stupid. The potions she brewed for the gullible royals and nobles were just a mix of herbal concoctions that at their best could help with their users indigestion and heartburn when consumed and at their worst were a slow and long acting laxative. They didn’t give a person courage. They could not make someone fall in love or more beautiful. Uma was the daughter of the world’s most feared sea witch. That lineage, as she quickly learned in her first week in Auradon, did not mean that Uma herself was a sea witch. 

Uma was destined not for greatness. It made the idea that anyone could think that she could ever have a chance to go toe-to-toe with Mal laughable...and cruel. It made every time Harry declared her a goddess a painful chip against her heart.

“Uma,” Evie stepped forward slowly. She took measured steps as if approaching a frightened animal ready to flee at any second. Once she was close enough, she took Uma’s only slightly resistant hands in her surprisingly strong grip. “You may not see it but I do. What you’ve hid for years, even from yourself. But we,” she nodded towards Carlos and Gil. “We see it. A storm that has been brewing and brewing for years.”

Uma turned slightly to see both Gil and Carlos nodding affirmingly.

“And your sailor does too,” Evie knowingly added with a prim chuckle.

“He’s not mine,” Uma wanted to reply back hotly but the memory of bright blue eyes filled with something...something that she wanted to hoard for herself caused her to pause. 

Smiling gently, Evie leaned forward and kissed Uma on the cheek, squeezing her hands briefly before letting go and taking a step back. 

“Whatever you decide to do, I don’t think any of us would judge you after all that you’ve been through,” Evie said as she began packing all of her things into her makeup bag before pulling out an envelope from seemingly out of nowhere. 

“They’re identification,” Carlos clarified. “Passports and stuff that I made that’ll help you cross over to the neutral kingdoms. No one should expect that they’re not the real thing.” 

Uma stomach turned as she looked up from the envelope, looking back and forth between Evie and Carlos. Good fake IDs weren’t cheap afterall. “What do I owe you then?”

Evie shrugged. “You may not believe this but we really don’t have any ulterior motives. We...” she sighed, for once not looking like the prim and proper princess she was taught to be but just a girl who was just trying her best. “We just couldn’t take how Mal was treating you anymore. No one deserves that.”

Uma’s frown deepened. So this was pity?

“And anything that makes Mal get all red in the face and isn’t directed at me is a win in my book,” Carlos said attempting to sound too disinterested. “Plus I have a better idea of how lame their computer security is here after bursting Gil out. It’s bound to come in handy at some point. So you’re doing us a favor.” 

Uma nodded, afraid if she said anything she would mess things up. She put the envelope into one of the hastily packed bags she had made for herself and Gil before they broke him out. 

“I’d advise you to keep moving until you hear the outcome of the Coronation,” Evie instructed as she handed one of her bags to Carlos. “Whether or not Mal’s plans for the wand work, someone will probably be after you as soon as they realize you’re both gone. The makeup should last long enough, even if you wash your face, so you’ll be unrecognizable,” she explained confirming Uma’s theory that the other girl had used some sort of magic to disguise them. 

With that said, Evie spun on her heel before strutting out of the library, Carlos throwing a hasty wave over his shoulder as he followed her. 

And then, it was just Uma and Gil. 

Biting her lip, Uma turned towards the window that looked out over the forest surrounding Auradon Prep. Just a little way past the treelines, she could make out the hazy shape of the Isle, surrounded by gray clouds and smog. It had been her prison for crimes that she had never committed. It was that way for everyone born there. Running away had always felt like a dream until it was no longer a dream but reality…

Her hand unconsciously clasped around the shell necklace she had exchanged for her own along with her heart to a blue eyed sailor. She hadn’t even said goodbye to Harry. He was really too good for her. At least he was awake now. He could go back to living his perfect life surrounded by his perfect friends and family. There was no place really for someone like Uma. 

“Let’s go,” she murmured softly, quickly wiping away a stray tear that had fallen. They were wasting time. They needed to get as far away as possible.

“But-” Gil began.

“I said we’re going!” Uma’s voice grew hard before shoving one of their packed bags at him. Gil looked from the bag in his hands to his friends quickly retreating back before quickly catching up with her. 

A day later, Uma pulled Gil’s old jacket tighter around her for warmth. They were still too close to Auradon City to light a proper fire without being noticed. 

Judging by the map that Carlos had printed off for them, they were about half a day ways from the Hundred Acre Woods that bordered Camelot and Sherwood Forest. Though Auadon as a whole had taken a step forward towards modern, non-magic advancement, that stretch of land was known for its prime camping scenery with its thick and lush greenery, totally untouched by electronic distractions. It wouldn’t be strange for someone to build a small contained campfire without being questioned. Plus, they probably had better chances of surviving in general in the woods where Gil could be in his hunting element than they would be in a busy city where they could easily be recognized, despite the wigs they both wore and the fake beard that Evie had expertly applied to Gil’s chin.

“Don’t.” Uma distractedly slapped Gil’s hand away from his face where his fingers were itching to scratch at the fake patch of hair on his chin. He pouted momentarily, fiddling with his hands as he glanced around to distract himself from the itchiness.

They were in a small abandoned lighthouse on the coast, north-west of Auradon City. The soft crashing of waves filled the silence between them as Uma systematically took everything out of their packs to take inventory. 

Anything to get her mind away from distracting thoughts.

“Evie and Carlos are super nice for helping us,” Gil broke the silence just as Uma tossed him two granola bars. They had more than enough to last them for a few weeks if they rationed well.

“They aren’t nice,” Uma denied. “Probably just wanted to use us as a distraction for Mal so they can have her try at stabbing her in the back.”

Gil scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “If you say so…” he said not sounding totally convinced before taking a bite out of his granola bar. 

“I do!” Uma would have stumped her foot if she had been standing up. She pulled her knees to her chest, choosing to avoid his gaze. Instead, her eyes fell on something that was peeking out of the teal jacket that Evie had somehow managed to sneak into Uma’s bag when she hadn’t been looking. 

Rolling onto her knees, Uma reached out for the jacket. She leaned back on her haunches as she pulled out the small square of paper that had caught her eye.

A photo.

It showed a dashing young man with perfectly messy dark hair standing close but not touching the young woman next to him. Though she instantly knew who the young man was, It took Uma longer than she would like to admit to recognize that the young woman, with her hand captured midair on its way to push aside an errant curl away from bright blue eyes, as herself even with the telltale teal braids. Harry’s face wore a soft smirk as the fingers of one hand gently reached out for the hand at her side.

“You look different.” 

She looked over her shoulder to see that Gil had moved silently closer to see what she was holding.  

“He was different,” Uma answered truthfully. She took one last glance at the photo, memorizing the way she looked so...unlike herself. She paused, searching for the right word before she landed on it: happy. She looked completely and utterly happy in the fic. 

“Uma?” Gil questioned after she hadn’t moved or said anything for a few moments. 

Blinking as if jolted from deep within her thoughts, Uma turned to Gil, her hand clutching the Never-shell necklace, a faint but steady warmth emitting from it.

“Why have you stayed with me this long, Gil?” she asked before she could even really think about the question or what answer would be easier to hear. 

Tilting his head to the side as if she had just asked why he loved eggs, Gil responded slowly, unsure if he was answering right. Best friend or not, Uma had a temper when she got impatient with him sometimes.

“Because you’re Uma,” he finally settled on. He reached out and gently squeezed her fingers, giving an unsure but warm smile. “Because you’re my best friend.”

Uma choked back a sob at the simple admission. Her mind went back to an alley where this same boy offered easily his own pain to her just to make her feel better. The large calloused hands that held hers now had been the ones that had fumbled but worked diligently to patch her up every time Mal or anyone else on the Isle thought she needed a reminder of where she fell on the Isle’s food chain.

Gil had kept her sane. Motivating her with bumbling but endearing words and acts of encouragement and loyalty that made every taunt, every encounter with Mal, every hazy dream tinged with jealousy and relief of a blue eyed boy surrounded by love just a bit more bearable. 

If Harry was her anchor, grounding in a way that made her realize her life had always felt off kilter up until they had met, then Gil was her compass, pointing her back to herself. And when she really focused on herself, truly focused on her desires and not on the shackles of fear and humiliation that Mal had bound her with - that Uma had allowed herself to be bound with - she felt something powerful stir inside her.

It was like a tsunami; how the tides pulled away from the shore, gathering and gathering into a wave that once it fell would be in escapable. Her blood hummed with electricity, lightning imbued. Uma felt like she was at the edge of something that she equally both couldn’t name but welcomed, like wakefulness after a restful nap. Like a lost key that had finally been turned in a lock.

Magic thrummed lazily in the air and Uma could feel every branch and curl of it. She felt her own unconscious magic that tasted like sea salt, scuffed knees, and trust born out of loyalty and admiration that hung thick with age over Gil protectively like a blanket. She felt Evie’s magic, surprisingly subtle, woven into each stitch of the teal jacket she still held in her hands, strength, courage, and cunning breathed into it. 

And the necklace…

Tears welled up in her eyes as she held tightly onto the warm and softly humming Never-shell. The magic that wafted from it smelled like a sea breeze, mutual respect, gentle touches, and unhindered smiles with bright blue eyes. 

Faith. Trust. And pixie dust. 

 The word “love” floated to mind and the necklace pulsed in acknowledgement, feelings reflected but not hers pouring through like a gate finally opened.

“Did I-did I not answer that right?” Gil frowned disappointedly, shoulders hunched when he saw her tears.

Uma closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. A smile filled simultaneously with lingering fear, uncertainty, and fondness played on her lips as she made up her mind, plans culminating into a long overdue storm, just as Evie had said.. 

Opening her eyes, Uma was going to respond when she noticed something else in the pocket of the teal jacket.

She laughed, the only response she could think of when she pulled out what she could only assume was a burner phone. When she opened the scream, she wasn’t as surprised as she should have been when she saw the name of the only contact programmed into the phone.

Not even giving herself a moment to second guess herself, Uma pressed the contact number, bringing the phone up to her ear. It rang three times before it was finally answered.

“Uma,” a certain voice said her name like a prayer. Like her name itself was worth more than gold or life itself. 

It made Uma’s heart flutter. “This is love,” Uma thought, squeezing Gil’s hand.

“Hey,” she responded into the phone. “How do you feel about breaking some rules? For the greater good, of course,” she tacked on winking at Gil who grinned back.

If Mal was going to eventually take her out, might as well give that purple lizard something to sweat about, right?

---

THE MORNING OF THE CORONATION

Ben always seemed to know when Harry’s thoughts ran heavy even before Harry could hide them behind dashing smiles and his playful flirty nature. 

Ben supposed that’s why they had always been so close. The Prince had always been able to notice the chaotic storm that built within his friend when no one else noticed. When no one else understood. It was probably also because Ben had his own raging beast that bellowed, chained, within him that no one else noticed. That no one else understood…

Except Harry.

The prince and sailor noticed each other. Understood each other. They allowed each other to just...be without the shoulder breaking expectations of a soon to be king and his soon to be royal advisor. They saw each other and all their messy complexities and doubts and fears, a deep sense of trust and respect born out of years of being little boys thrown together with expectations and responsibilities that they could have never had comprehended at such a young age. 

But now as young men, voices still deepening and uncertainty a familiar staple of their identity, they looked out the window of their once shared playroom within the gilded halls of Auradon Castle at the kingdom before them. 

The roads leading up to the castle were quiet this early, just barely kissed by the sun’s light. An hour or two more and they would hear Cogsworth shouting out orders to the maids and butlers and Lumiere singing in the halls doing a fantastic job of both helping his old friend and driving him one foot closer to the grave (or retirement as he always threatened). Mrs. Potts would undoubtedly walk into each of their old rooms, pushing the curtains aside to let in the morning light, moving across the room as wonderfully dizzying as a spinning teacup. She would mother-hen them into getting ready like they were still the rambunctious eight year olds, too tired to do anything other than let her fuss and cluck over them. 

So many fond memories were embedded into the walls of this castle for these two young men, when their world seemed just as big as the two of them. A selfish part of Ben wanted to stop time, to extend the carefreeness of his childhood just a bit longer.

Finally, Ben broke the silence, his words seemingly all the more loud and weighty in the dawn. “In a few hours, everything will be different. Everything will change.”

Harry glanced over at the prince, his soon-to-be king, and friend. His brother not in blood but in all the ways that mattered the most.

“You’ll be High King,” Harry nodded thoughtfully, a small smirk on his lips though his eyes held something much deeper. “Beasty King Junior,” he ruffled Ben’s hair teasingly.

Ben chuckled, shoving Harry slightly, letting his hair stay the messy nest Harry had created.

Putting a firm hand on the prince’s shoulder, Harry’s voice was firm and serious as he said, “You’ll be High King Benjamin Maurice DeFlorian, Auradon’s Just and Benevolent King.”

Ben shrugged off Harry’s hand only to almost knock them both over with a sudden and tight embrace. Harry didn’t hesitate to return the hug just as tight once his balance was stable.

 “I guess this is where I’m supposed to say how you’ll be Royal Captain Harry Jones, Hand to the King and Lieutenant of the Royal Navy. My loyal advisor and friend,” Ben murmured before pushing away slightly so they could see each other, brown eyes staring knowingly into blue. “But that won’t be happening tomorrow...will it?”

Harry didn’t even try to lie. But he didn’t share the truth either. And he loved Ben for not making him tell. Instead, he merely said, “I know you’ll be a king I’ll be proud of.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, the stinging in his eyes. “And I’ll always consider you a friend.” 

They pulled apart, both of them committing this moment to memory, their companionable silence hanging over them like an unsaid good-bye. 

---

“I can’t believe you still do not understand how to tie a proper knot, Harry!” 

Said boy couldn’t help but let out a fond and amused huff of air as he stared down at the top of Audrey’s perfectly styled and crowned head as she none too gently fixed his tie.

They could both hear the crowd cheering excitedly outside, waiting for their soon to be king to arrive at the Grand Hall of King Adam and Queen’s Belle castle. 

“Surprised you didn’t take Ben up on his offer,” Harry murmured just before choking as Audrey made his tie too tight.

“Oops,” she said not even sounding remorseful at all when the boy let out a strangled sound when she tugged too tight. “And I’m a princess, Harry. It would look tasteless to ride with Ben in his coronation chariot after he broke up with me, instigated by a love spell or not. A princess takes pity from no one. I mean, can you imagine what people would have said?”

Harry rolled his eyes, keeping his thoughts on the matter to himself.

“Anyway, where is Calista Jane?” Audrey glanced around the room as if she half expected the half-pixie to appear out of nowhere and startle her with a prank of some sort like CJ was often prone to do when they were younger. 

“Wasn’t feeling well,” Harry smoothly answered, looking at a spot right above Audrey’s head. “Didn’t help that old dad isn’t showing up to this.”

“Poor dear,” Audrey said before her hands stilled, pretty face shifting into genuine concern. “And you? How are you holding up?”

Allowing himself to let out a long sigh, Harry could only shrug. “He takes his duty keeping the waters of Auradon safe very seriously. He’s always been like that so didn’t expect much of a change now.” 

Audrey looked like she wanted to say something but she remembered herself and what was expected of her, so she kept her thoughts about how poor of a father the naval leader was to herself. She took another few seconds to finish with his tie before taking a step back. 

Harry waited silently, watching as she took in his outfit, from how his freshly pressed white dress shirt tucked into tailored black dress slacks and under a dark gold embroidered double breasted waistcoat. Audrey frowned as she adjusted the collar of his long red leather jacket before her previous downturned lips (“Because princesses don’t scowl, Harry!”) smoothed into a pleased expression. 

“There you go,” Audrey turned him towards the mirror. “A dashingly handsome young sailor.”

“Yeah,” Harry found himself swallowing thickly around the words. “Ye did well, lass.”

It was a testament to apparently how well even Audrey knew him that she didn’t pinch his hand for slipping back into the heavy brogue he had a habit of falling into when he was feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“No need to worry,” Audrey placed a light hand on his arm. “You’ll be a great second in command. And besides, everyone will be paying more attention to Ben than you. You just need to stand there and look pretty. Shouldn’t be hard for you.”

Harry looked down at her, taking in Audrey’s pretty smile and soft features and the obvious care and concern she had for those close to her that she for some reason thought was important to hide behind a pretty and vapid mask. Though they had never been as close as he and Ben had been growing up, so many of his childhood memories contained Audrey at their side or somewhere nearby in the background. She was basically like a third sister: annoying, always driving him up the wall, but he would knock out anyone who dared hurt her. (Good thing Harry was under a sleeping curse and Ben had the excuse of being under a love spell when he crushed Audrey’s heart.)

“Audrey…” Harry began. 

Audrey didn’t look up from the mirror as she fussed over invisible imperfections with her perfectly done hair. Typical Audrey, he thought fondly.

 “What is it Harry?” she murmured applying a fresh coat of lip gloss.

“Nothing,” Harry softly sighed, looking away. “You look beautiful.”

Audrey merely rolled her eyes, giving herself one final once over in the mirror before the warning trumpets began to play, signalling Ben’s arrival. “Of course, Harry. I’m a princess. Now we can’t dilly dally for yours and Ben’s big day. Move it mister! Today will be a day to be remembered!”

Harry nodded, offering Audrey his arm to guide her back to her parents before he took his position next to Ben’s parents. Today would be a day to remember.

---

Mal glared at Evie after the Evil Queen’s daughter smacked her hand away from the delicate fabric of her dress’s high neckline. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Evie tsked, taking a moment to pluck some of Dude’s hair from Carlos’s coat and to tuck a loose strand of hair back into Jay’s bun. “You’ll ruin the lace.”

“How about I ruin your face, princess?” Mal hissed before shoving pass some royals who had the misfortune of getting in her way.

Her patience was practically nonexistent at this point and Mal didn’t care that everyone could see that.

With Auradon on high alert after Uma and Gil’s jailbreak and escape (the exact how still under investigation since there was no sign of physical or magical forced entry), the remaining four VKs were under constant watch despite Mal’s convincing performance with Fairy Godmother earlier that week. That meant that any attempt to try a repeat of the love spell on the Prince to try to get closer to the wand had to be thrown out the window leaving Mal shit out of luck. 

Neither Jay, Carlos, or Evie pointed out the way that Mal’s hands shook or how her eyes seemed to constantly be glowing with barely tethered control. It didn’t help that Fairy Godmother had thought it would be “good” idea to set up a video chat with their parents the day before since Maleficent, Evil Queen, Cruella, and Jafar obviously couldn’t make it to the complete and utter clusterfuck that was Family Day.

Yeah...a talk with her mother was exactly the confidence booster that Mal needed when even the Isle knew of Shrimpy’s little jail break was such uber fun. (NOT!) Even Ursulla, who had also been there during the video chat had laughed in the background like some demented soundtrack of Mal’s failure as Maleificent grew more and more angry with her only child.

There was no more time for mistakes. With determination as hot and unyielding as the fires of hell, Mal’s eyes landed quickly on her prey.

“What’s she doing?” she heard Carlos nervously whisper somewhere behind her as she continued to walk further, closer towards the part of the hall reserved specifically for all of the upper tier royals and several ass kissing sidekicks.

Jay must have said something in response to silence the runt but Mal didn’t give it any thought. 

Mal could not allow herself to fail again.

 She reached her hand into the obnoxiously delicate looking handbag she had made Evie design, pulling out a sewing needle just as she came up behind the once again mousy looking plain Jane. 

“That’ll teach the sorry excuse for a fairy to bite the hand that magiced up flawless hair for her, Mal thought remembering the way that Jane and everyone else had looked down upon them after a series of escalating events during Family Day, starting with a wonderful family reunion with Queen Leah literally two minutes after Mal’s and the other’s arrival. Perhaps in another world, Mal would have been moved by Prince Ben’s promise that he would make everyone understand that even Isle kids deserve a chance. But this was not that world and the Prince’s blind faith merely made Mal want to barf all over him.

“Hey Jane!” Mal put on a poor attempt of a smile, the facade growing more twisted as Jane jumped, startled and fear palpable as she turned to see that it was Mal. However, evil was on a time crunch at the moment. “Just wanted to say, that after everything that happened,” Mal said before sticking out her hand, “that there’s no hard feelings.”

Not for the first time, Mal wanted to laugh at the sheer stupidity of Auradon’s citizens and their idiotic “forgiveness is good” policy as poor clueless plain Jane gave a shy smile before reaching out shake Mal’s hand.

“Ouch!” and pulling back her hand to see where a small prick was made was all Jane could do before her eyes dulled and her expression slackened.

Mal smirked, Jane easily under her spell. Perhaps she could actually pull this off. 

“So here’s what I need you to do for me, Janey.”

[awildhanmonster]

More Ado about Characters:

Alright, now for round 2!  The following characters are all more one-offs and have no direct relation to each other quite the same was as Nell/Leonora/Barnes do, so let’s see if I can keep this under novel length.  

Remy Green, aka Remy:  17 years old in current canon, and still in the last leg of high school, Remy is, for lack of any better term, a reverse werewolf: perpetually stuck in the form of a gangly wolfdog monster on all nights save the brightest of full moons.  Originally just a “normal” human kid just trying to survive through graduation, her entire life wound up turned on its head when an out of control werewolf attacked and bit her while out with friends one night.  He was subdued and arrested, even later charged for the negligence and violent assault, but the damage had been done and the virus passed on— in the worst ways.

Remy essentially suffered the equivalent of a severe allergic reaction and anaphylaxis during the first shift, which took hours (normal were shifts should be minutes) and resulted in her parents frantically driving her to the ER in tears.  She survived, though the diagnosis— for a fragile kid with shaky self esteem— was, at the time, seemingly a fate worse than death.  Despite her form, she never seems to suffer the loss of mindfulness or weakened inhibitions of most werefolk during “peak” moon periods.  

Remy has since started learning how to cope with life in a new form she didn’t really want or ask for, and she has the full, unwavering support of her parents, though it’s still a lot for a teenaged kid to handle.  I’m pretty sure she wound up being pulled from high school and is trying to finish out her last year and a half or so at home, though she could really use some friends she doesn’t think are “obligated” to love her like her parents are.  I think she’s pretty lonely and dealing with a lot of depression issues.  Luckily she’ll fall in with Wayne at some point, who’s like a sweet (greasy stoner) older brother, and he and the rest of the Losers can adopt the hell out of her as a little sister and teach her how to not give a fuck about what humans think when you’re a weirdo.  She’ll earn her happy ending eventually.  

Rose Lund:  Absolutely 100% a retooling/transplant of one of my dearest, most beloved, super shitty/earnest self-insert characters as a 12 year old on Neopets and I have NO SHAME AT ALL.  Rose is a human mage (they do exist!) around 30 or so, a pale/skinny English-Caucasian mutt with green eyes, straight brown hair, and a penchant for fancifully extra looking dyed bang fringies because she’s stopped giving a fuck.  She’s one of those rare people who can strike up a conversation with just about anyone, blessed by a very… unique way with words that’s unintentionally contributed to her internet fame as a slice of life blogger about the day to day trials of pet dragon (well, wyrm) ownership.  

Rose has been passionate about rare and magical exotic creatures since she was a wee girl, and developed an obsession with dragons (‘wyrms’ being the correct term for all non-sentient varieties) before she was out of grade school.  In college she double majored cryptobiology and spell artistry, then upon graduation, acquired a pair of rare pygmy wyrms— from temperate and tundra subspecies— respectively, as pets, both for personal reasons and to aid in her pursuit of a master’s degree in cryptobiological husbandy.

Pygmy wyrms, it should be noted, are generally terrible pets.  While only growing to approximately the size of a house cat (10-12 pounds on average) and sporting the appearance of beautifully miniaturized mythological six-limbed dragons any fantasy nut would fall in love with, they are far from domesticated, exasperatingly precocious, and have the charming habit of expelling flammable gas from a myriad of orifices when startled.  They have a distinctive, vaguely musky sulfurous smell about them regardless of cleanliness and are just clever enough to ignore training commands when convenient.  Imagine giving a very ornery, very clever raccoon flappy wings with a several foot wingspan, feeding it rotten eggs, and strapping a flamethrower to both ends, then rigging it all with an excitable hair trigger.  That is a pygmy wyrm.  Rose owns two in an apartment complex: Ice Pack (Packy), who is a pale milk white/ice blue, and Sharky (Sharkbite), who is black and burgundy/red.  

Needless to say they’re the loves of her lives and she revolves around them, having garnered a massive internet following thanks to her daily posts about their antics and the realities of exotic pet care.  They’re harness trained now and reasonably polite, though this is only due to years of hard work and constant reinforcement.  She hopes one day to breed more biddable specimens and help contribute to the conservation of the species worldwide.  Also, they’ve made her very good at anti-flammability hexes.  

Shun —: known only by her first name, a kitsune who moved into the apartment complex fairly recently with her pet pipe fox, Yuzu.  It should be noted that kitsune are particularly long lived among mythicals, though how long exactly that is tends to be hotly debated and unknown by all but the foxes themselves.  What is known is how they are extremely slow to age after reaching their peak maturity/fitness, with certain individuals reported over 500 years old and, apparently, showing very little of their age beyond a massive swath of grown tails (nine being the highest on known record).  Kitsune typically grow to around 30-40 lbs, outwardly resembling a much large. leggier, more willowy silhouette than traditional foxes, and will begin life with a single tail that splits or “buds” and multiplies over time.  

Neurologically they are fairly unique among mammals, possessing a kind of distributed intelligence throughout the body that can give the tails a “mind of their own”, so to speak, in much the same way as octopi or other related cephalopods do.  In fact, due to the extremely slow rate of cell death/turnover, a severed kitsune tail will continue to move and attempt “functioning” for weeks, even years by some reports, under correct conditions.  Which I’ll get into shortly.  

Swerving back to Shun herself, she’s an artist by trade who zigzags between traditional and digital freelance work for a living.  Conservation of mass is still in place for humanoid shifts— which all kitsune can voluntarily assume— with predictably small, delicate, androgynous bodies that rarely get above 4’5’’ or so in stature.  Features like pointed ears or slit pupils/exposed tails can be morphed or shown as desired, though the chronic perception of being childlike or “cute” regardless of how old they are is a pretty common occurrence.  Shun is no stranger to this either, and hates shopping for clothes at non-mythical-specific places because she has to do so in the *really* young children’s department for anything to fit.  

Back on the subject of pipe foxes, though— Shun is a kitsune with 3 and 3/4 tails.  She had an unspecified accident several years ago in which she lost the final quarter of her fourth tail, but managed to retrieve the piece after several weeks of searching, at which point it was already trying to become a pipe fox.  Pipe foxes (at least in this world) are the result of a severed kitsune tail’s survival instincts going horribly wrong (or right) and attempting to restructure themselves for survival, and the amount of tail there (i.e. how much was separated from the body) will determine what becomes of it, though the “starting” process is pretty identical no matter what you do.  

If a severed piece of tail has no food, eventually, with time, it will die.  If, however, you keep it somewhere safe (like a drawer) and you present it with food (which could be, I don’t know, a chicken leg), it will sense it, and you will see the start of a small, gaping fanged mouth begin to grow from the stump.  Once this has formed, the tail will wriggle itself to its prize and devour everything it can, sustaining it.  Keep feeding the tail and it will continue to grow legs, organs, features, and a face— though not necessarily in that order.  Eventually, you will have a small— usually mouse to rat sized— beautiful white magic fox, prized heavily by black market collectors for its splendor and apparent luck giving properties.  A true quarter-tailed pipe fox will live somewhere between 5-40 years, unpredictably.  The distributed intelligence of the tail will reform/conglomerate into a brain relatively on par with a modern pet dog, possibly smarter (or much dumber) depending on your luck.  

If, however, there is MORE than roughly a quarter tail chopped off, with more of the nervous tissue and mass intact, the pipe fox resulting may appear larger and more robust.  Many exotic buyers have been lured into purchasing these creatures from traders without realizing, and years later the unlucky recipient will find their precious fox’s skin suddenly flaccid on the ground like a shed cocoon, having erupted into 75 tinier pipe foxes that will summarily swarm the accessible property to spirit off with literally anything they decide is valuable, never to be found again, often raging like an infestation for days or WEEKS before vanishing forever.  

Rumor has it that feeding an entire severed tail will result in 75 tiny pipe foxes bursting forth from the cocoon shell that will each burst into 75 more bug sized foxes each, resulting in a plague of nigh biblical proportions.  But that’s never actually been confirmed on record.  

Needless to say the kitsune have a lot of protocols for dealing with severed tails and will usually destroy half-formed pipe foxes of unknown origin on the spot.  Shun keeps Yuzu as a pet due to being intimately aware of the little rat-sized creature’s origins, and she still had to sign SO many extra insurance papers and wavers before the complex would let her move in.  

I am not good at keeping it short, am I?  Wow.  Well, there you have it!  I’d be happy to answer any extra stuff I forgot too if someone has a question.  I do love these nerds.