#baby mally

[reyskory]

Congrats Lilia on breaking me

[magicalplaylist]

What is Star Wars if not a story about parents and their babies? (Both the tragedy and hope of that)

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

watched RRR with my mom and sister and while they were laughing at the stunts and fight scenes and acrobatics I was fucking Enraptured. "that's so cheesy lol" no mother you are watching this wrong, you must watch it from the viewpoint of a very small child witnessing circus acrobats or anime for the first time. you will not feel the power of the cinematography or appreciate the symbolism unless you suspend your disbelief and just watch two beautiful Indian men throw motorcycles and shoot magic arrows at evil colonizers.

also we paused right at the aerial shot of the governor's palace and Sissy straight-up SCREAMED because we were only halfway through and yet so much had happened already.

anyway, RRR is a fucking good movie. I wish to purchase it on DVD.

[completelyrain]

Am I the only one that just wants to hug an idol or a trainee so bad like please just tell them that they are enough and they did a really good job in every single way, that it’s not their fault if they messed up something and that they can still try tomorrow, that they don’t always need to think about the past and that they should be taking care of their soul because they deserve lots and lots of love, and also that they shouldn’t be overworking themselves, that I’m proud of them and that many many other people do, I wanna hug them or just hold their hand and not romantically at all, just for comfort because they deserve to be treated like human beings and not machines, they make me so sad sometimes I wanna hug the screen like please. no because if their heart was scattered or damaged I’ll give them mine and repair theirs, and I mean it.

[selunesfavouriteprincess]

playing a morally-dubious Tav is very funny with a party containing Astarion, Lae’zel and Shadowheart because it’s basically Shaddy realising in real time that she may in fact be the world’s worst Sharran and the most morally good person there while the other three are looking at her like “there’s always one bitch in the group who isn’t down with murder 🙄”

[babylemonart]

Lilia shows Baby Malleus the world (he hates it)

Based on one of those videos where people let their cats go through rollercoaster simulations, I thought since baby Mally wasn't really allowed outside, Lilia just made him experience stuff in unconventional ways, for better or for worse :D

[multifandom-worlds]

In The Shadows

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: secret relationships, non-canon, profanity

Authors Note: This is a reader insert fic, but the background is basically the reader is Draco Malfoy's twin sister. If I have forgotten any warnings, do let me know, please!

Your content consumption is on you.

“Why was she wearing your jersey, Mattheo? Answer me that: why does another woman get what’s mine?” You demand, walking into changing rooms. You knew everyone was out; you counted them yourself. Mattheo was standing up, waiting for you to arrive. 

“I could ask you the same question. Why are you wearing another man’s name?” Mattheo retorts, stalking towards you. He’s used to you cowering, becoming putty in his hand, but this time, you were defiant. You were not going to let him intimidate you. 

“I don’t think I’ve met someone with such pathetic critical thinking skills,” You shot back. “It’s not just “another man’s last name” like you so kindly said; it’s my fucking last name, Riddle. If you used your brain for once in your goddamn life, you’d see I’m wearing my brother’s jersey. Why am I wearing my brother’s jersey? Because someone is too fucking embarrassed to be seen with me that he refuses to let me wear his. I’m beginning to think you just want me for sex, and that’s is”

Mattheo stops his advances, caught off guard by your aggression. He was not at all used to you standing up for yourself. Not to mention reducing his love for you to merely sex. “...Don’t say that, love. You don't mean that you know I love you; it's just…”

“It's just what, Riddle? Your father? Do you realize who I am? Who my family is? I'm a motherfucking Malfoy. I am the daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy, the fucking death eater.” You look up at him, all your insecurities manifesting into anger.

“No…your brother,” Mattheo says meekly.

You look at him dumbfounded. “My brother? You're worried about my brother? My brother couldn't punch his way out of a wet paper bag. Are you worried he'll tell our father? Baby, father would be happy I'm dating the literal Dark Lord’s son. That gives him a leg up, so to speak.” 

Mattheo raises his hand to cup your cheek before he hears the changing room door open. He immediately takes three steps back as Astoria walks in, his jersey in her hand. “Here you go, Matty.” She says, a nauseatingly flirtatious tone in her voice. She gasps when she sees you, grabbing onto Mattheo’s bicep. “What are you doing here? This is the men’s changeroom.” 

To his credit, Mattheo steps away from her but is not quick enough for your liking. “She was just...” he began before you cut him off, your jaw tight, and a look of pure hatred burned behind our eyes. 

“Leaving.” You spoke with absolute authority. “Goodbye, Riddle, good fucking riddance” You turn and walk away without even a second glance. However, you do linger at the door, silently hoping he comes after you.

You could hear Astoria laughing, “she actually believed she had a chance with you? She really is an embarrassment to her family. Now let’s go; I have a reward for you!” 

You walk away after that, knowing you’ll only break your own heart more. You walk away, the tears threatening to spill. How can you be sad about something nobody knew about? What do you say when people ask…what do you do? You move on in the shadows, just as you were loved in the shadows. 

You navigate your way through the Slytherin common room, staying near the walls and doing your best to avoid the partygoers. You have no desire to party; all you want is your bed. It was then that you felt a familiar, calloused hand grab your wrist. Turning around, you come face to face with Mattheo’s captivating smile. For a moment, you nearly forgot everything he put you through.

“I was wondering when you’d show up, Mally. A party is not the same without you.” He says, pulling you close and nuzzling his nose against your neck while wrapping his arms around your waist. You wanted to believe him, believe that he finally decided to love you publicly, but you could smell the fire whisky on his breath. He's drunk. 

“You’re drunk, Mattheo. Leave me alone; I’m not partying tonight.” You say, pulling away from his grip. “Go party with Astoria; she must be just dying to spend time with you since you’re single, after all.” 

He looks at you, confusion twisting his gorgeous features. “I’m not single? What do you mean, Mally? I’m dating you. I have been through the 7th and 8th year. I want to stay with you.” 

You sigh, stepping back away from him further, with tears prickling in your eyes. “That would mean so much more if you weren’t drunk, Matty. It’s over for us, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” You turn from him and slip effortlessly into the writhing student body. 

You collapse on your bed and release the sob that had been building in your throat all afternoon, ever since seeing Astoria wearing Mattheo’s jersey. ‘It’s better this way,’ you told yourself; this way, you can find someone who loves and appreciates you in the open, not hiding you away like some dirty little secret. You cried yourself to sleep that night with Mattheo's shirt tucked tightly to your chest, not wanting to wake up the following day.

The following days dragged on. You did everything you could to avoid your ex, but it was getting more challenging by the day. One night, after you and Mattheo had been partnered for Charms, you broke down to your brother, confessing everything. Your 2-year relationship with Mattheo, your “break up,” all of it. You cried in Draco’s arms for hours, and like the dutiful brother he is, he consoled you the whole time, quietly seething. How dare someone do this to his beloved sister? How dare someone reduce her to tears like this? 

You were almost asleep, floating just on the precipice of dreams while Draco was reading you a story, when there was a knock on your dorm door. You move to get it, but Draco stops you. “You need to sleep, moon. I’ll answer it.” He says softly, pushing your hair from your face. 

You heard the door open, and Draco stepped out into the hallway. What you didn’t expect to hear, however, was the conversation. 

“What are you doing here, Riddle? Haven’t you done enough?” Draco says, his tone angry.

“What are you talking about, Draco? I came to check on her, but she hasn’t been answering my messages; she’s ignoring me. I just want to talk to her. Is that so bad?”

“Why would you keep her a secret, Riddle? My sister is brilliant and incredible. She is more my father than I could ever hope to be. She is the greatest duellist this school has ever seen, which is why she’s the Slytherin Dueling Club Captain, and you threw her away for Astoria? All she ever wanted in her life was someone to see her for who she was, not what she could be. She hoped it was you, but keeping her a secret, that's not what you do to someone you love. Leave her alone, Riddle.”

Draco shut the door before you could hear Mattheo’s response. It warmed your heart that you had someone in your corner, your confidant, your protector. You now understood what Fred and George were saying - having a twin is the best thing. 

You pretended to sleep as Draco walked back over, but you felt his lips land softly on your temple. “Goodnight, little moon. I’ve got you.”

Mattheo catches you in the hallways while you are walking between classes with your brother several days later. “Mally, wait, please... talk to me. There has to be a misunderstanding. Please.” He looks like he hasn't slept in days. 

“For the last time, Riddle, leave me the fuck alone!” You yell while pushing him away from you, but he comes back like a moth to a flame. Clearly, you were going to have to tell him in a language he would understand. Once he got within arms reach, you punched him square in the nose. You could feel the cartilage break under your fist. “I told you, leave me alone, Riddle! You had your chance with me, and you gave that up.”

Mattheo holds his nose while looking at you in complete shock. Everyone in the hallway was looking at you in complete shock. You walk away, Draco hurrying after you, leaving Mattheo to deal with his broken nose himself. You could faintly hear a commotion happening behind you, but you didn’t dare look around. 

The rumours began mere hours later and steadily built up momentum as the days passed.

“Did you hear Mattheo Riddle got his nose broken by that Malfoy girl last week?”

“Did he actually? How did Tom react?”

“I still can’t believe Mattheo got his nose broken by a girl.”

You were growing tired of all the gossip about you. You heard from Draco that Mattheo had started withdrawing from everyone; clearly, he was, too. The guilt began to eat you up alive - was he actually that in love with you that your separation was this hard on him? There’s no way he loved you, not with how he acted; maybe he was just embarrassed. Hopefully, he was just embarrassed, but you couldn’t worry about that; you had bigger things on your mind - the Dueling Club tournament. 

You sit back, watching your team dominate, cheering them on and giving the newer ones points before they step into the ring. You have to sit with the other house captains, something about rules or whatever. You clock Mattheo, sitting a few seats down, but pay it no mind.

Slytherin and Gryffindors were neck and neck; this next duel would decide who won that year's tournament. You stepped up for your house, stepping into the ring amongst hoots and hollers. After some intense planning, Harry Potter steps into the ring. The whole room fell silent. The Chosen One, the boy wonder up against Hogwart's greatest dueler. This really would be a duel to remember.

“I guess we’re doing this, Potter.” You chuckle, taking your wand from your robes and holding it comfortably in your hand. You scan the room before your eyes lock with Mattheos, and you see a myriad of untold emotions. His eyes draw you in, locking you in place. The world beyond you slips away, melting into a sea of nothingness; nothing mattered to you more at that moment than Mattheo. 

Until, out of your peripheral vision, you see a spell coming hurling your way; instantaneously, you snap into action, quickly casting a barrier and returning the spell at him. “That was a good try, Potter,” You taunt, waiting for him to engage again. His eyes burn into you before slinging spell after spell at you. One or two of them connected, but it wasn’t enough to win.

“Fuck you, Malfoy! Fight back, you coward!” Harry hissed, growing more and more agitated as the duel commenced. He was getting sloppy, precisely what you counted on. He may be “The Chosen One,” but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a hothead and a thoughtless dueler. 

“Easy, Potter, don’t lose your head,” You taunt again, stalking around the ring like a predator stalking its prey. You watch closely, taking note of his actions as you patiently waited, waited for the right time to strike. 

Now.

You go on the offence, unloading a flurry of harmless attacks, each one hitting its target with deadly accuracy. Within seconds of your attack, that match was called, and Slytherin was named winner of the Tournament. Your whole house jumps up and swarms you, chanting your name. You were enjoying all the celebration when you saw Mattheo pushing through the crowd. You prepared yourself mentally for whatever argument was about to ensue, but when he reached you, instead of starting an argument, his lips collided with yours. 

The kiss was electrifying, hungry, desperate, and everything you needed it to be. Mattheo's hands danced their way down your face to the side of your neck, resting there as if they were always meant to be there…and perhaps they were. 

“You're mine, do you understand me?” He growls as he breaks the kiss. “No more of this ignoring me bullshit. I know where I fucked up, but I need you back, Mally. Please, no more hiding, no more keeping you a secret.”

You look at him, seeing the vulnerability he’s showing in front of everyone. He bites his lip, and his hands begin to tremble ever so slightly. You knew in your heart what to stay. 

“You’re a goddamn idiot, Mattheo Riddle, but you’re my goddamn idiot.” You punctuate your sentence with a kiss, sealing everything.

[therockyraccoon]

The Canadian Government Violently Seized 95 Raccoons from Expert Volunteers. 

On September 26th, The Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources used taxpayer money to send 40 to 50 armed agents and a HELICOPTER to violently seize 95 raccoons from volunteers at Mally's 3rd Chance Raccoon Rescue.

Based on new info, staff at Mally's have good reason to suspect the baby raccoons are now being used for LAB TESTING and research. This exact scenario happened before in 2002 at the Ottawa-Carlton Wildlife Center. Scan the QR Code for more info and ways you can help, along with signing this petition to Minister Graydon Smith.

[ticktockteapot]

Ok so I don't wanna spoil too much bcuz I'll be posting this story in order eventually but I can give a basic rundown of silly character traits and worldbuilding stuff

- The rebellion that happened in Underland (before they became a band at Disneyland) was called the UnderUprising and the band fled from Underland to our world, The Overlands.

- not just the band but a whole bunch of "Redfugees" (the main characters, some card guards, Marianne, some other OCs)

- There's this myth of Underland called The Looking Glass Legends, which is what our main characters are known as ( ....think elements of harmony from MLP: FiM/Legend Of Zelda Reincarnation lore/Doctor Who/ATLA)

- lots of life and death and found family and breaking generational ties the whole shebang

- Absolem and Time play a pivitol role in all this

- The LGL have clockhearts like Tim Burton's ATTLG/ HNKNA game

- A LOT OF MALLY ANGST

-Alice is a badass swordswoman

-Tarrants sews everyones costumes/casual clothes

-Thackery is the designated cook

-Thackery still has a split personality

-Dinah and Nivens rivalry for Alice

-LOTS OF SHIPPING AND FOUND FAMILY AND VILLIANY AND BETRAYAL

-Everyone literally has trauma and PTSD from the UnderlandUprising arc but that's ok let's just use escapism for the time being and go to Disneyland! Totally don't have to worry about the inevitable consequences of our choices! When it's all died down we're all moving to Vegas!! ❤️

Since I'm digging this fandom up from the grave, would anybody like to hear about my whole Mad T Party/Underland War AU? I'm not really a writer...I'm more of a visual storyteller, and trying to create a cohesive story template is a bitch. So I've got bits and pieces and worldbuilding sprinkled around in my noggin

[djloveyou3000]

Belladonna

Chapter ten

“Shh, baby, I’m here,” Russell whispered, pressing gentle kisses to Bell’s hair as their body shook with silent sobs. He tightened his arms around them, his chest rising and falling steadily to soothe their trembling. Bell buried their face in his neck, their tears soaking his skin.

“Why won’t it stop?” Bell murmured, their voice hoarse and broken.

“It will,” Russell assured them, though worry etched deep lines into his face. He brushed stray strands of hair from Bell’s face, planting another kiss on their temple. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

Bell clung to him, their grip desperate. Gradually, the tension in their body eased as exhaustion claimed them. Russell didn’t sleep, though. He stayed awake, his protective gaze fixed on Bell’s tear-streaked face.

The next morning, Russell decided enough was enough. He drove them to Dr. Leslie’s office for the hypnotherapy session. Bell sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out the window, their Hello Kitty plush clutched tightly in their lap. The once-comforting toy now felt like an anchor to a past they didn’t fully understand but couldn’t escape.

When they arrived, Russell walked beside Bell, his hand on their back, a steady presence guiding them forward. “You’ve got this,” he said gently.

Inside, Bell lay down on the couch, their hands gripping the sides nervously as Dr. Leslie began. “Just relax,” the doctor instructed in a calming voice. “Let your mind guide you.”

Bell’s breathing slowed, their body sinking into the couch as their consciousness drifted.

When they opened their eyes, they were no longer in the office. Instead, they were standing at the edge of a dense forest. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and fire. Bell’s small, six-year-old body trembled as they turned toward the source of the chaos.

Above the treetops, black smoke spiraled into the sky. The screams of terrified villagers echoed through the air. Bell’s tiny hands clutched their Hello Kitty plush tightly, their wide eyes filling with fear.

Then they heard it—a high-pitched scream from inside their home.

Without thinking, Bell ran as fast as their little legs could carry them, the plush clutched tightly against their chest. Their heart pounded in their ears, nearly drowning out the chaos around them.

When they reached the house, the sight that greeted them was worse than any nightmare.

Their siblings lay sprawled on the floor, lifeless, their bodies surrounded by pools of blood. Their father was slumped against the wall, barely clinging to life, his breaths shallow and labored.

“Misha… Alexie… Mallie…” Bell whispered, their voice trembling.

A loud, heart-wrenching scream tore through the air. Bell turned to see their mother surrounded by three savage attackers, fighting desperately with tears streaming down her face.

“NO! MISHA! ALEXIE! MALLIE!” she screamed, her voice breaking.

Then her eyes locked onto Bell, who stood frozen in the doorway, clutching their plush.

“NAME!” she cried out desperately. “RUN AWAY! LIVE!”

Her plea ended in a sickening gasp as a blade plunged into her chest.

Bell’s wide, tear-filled eyes stared at their mother’s crumpling body. “Mama, no!” they screamed, their voice raw and shaking.

The savages turned toward Bell, grinning wickedly.

Something inside Bell snapped. They spotted a bloodied knife lying on the floor and lunged for it. With trembling hands, they gripped the weapon tightly and charged at the attackers, letting out a bloodcurdling scream.

The fear and grief inside them transformed into a blazing fury. The knife slashed wildly, Bell’s tiny hands stained with the blood of the attackers. They stabbed and screamed until their voice gave out, their tears blurring their vision.

When the last attacker fell, Bell collapsed to their knees, the knife clattering to the ground. Their chest heaved as they looked around the room, their tiny body trembling.

“Mama… Papa… wake up, please…” Bell crawled to their mother’s lifeless body, cradling her head in their lap. Their small hands smoothed her blood-matted hair as tears streamed down their cheeks.

They turned to their siblings, shaking their limp bodies. “Misha… Alexie… don’t leave me,” they whispered, their voice breaking.

The silence was unbearable. Bell screamed, their tiny body racked with sobs.

After hours of crying, Bell dragged their family’s bodies together, covering them with a tattered blanket. They curled up beside them, clutching their Hello Kitty plush.

“It’s just a bad dream,” they whispered to themselves, their voice trembling. “I’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.”

But when morning came, the grim reality was undeniable.

Bell’s screams echoed through the empty house, raw and heart-wrenching. No child should ever endure such pain.

The next morning, Bell stirred awake in the cold, empty house. For a moment, they thought it might have all been a horrible dream. But as they sat up and looked around, reality crashed down on them like a tidal wave.

The silence was deafening. Their family wasn’t going to wake up.

Tears spilled down Bell’s cheeks as the weight of the truth pressed down on their tiny chest. Hugging their Hello Kitty plush tightly, they let out a small, heart-wrenching sob.

“No… no… please let this be a nightmare,” they whispered, their voice trembling.

They stumbled to their feet, clutching the plush for comfort, and bolted out of the house. Their tiny legs carried them toward the village, desperate to find someone—anyone—alive.

As they ran, a terrible smell hit them, making their stomach churn. It was the thick, metallic scent of blood mixed with smoke and decay.

Bell froze in their tracks, their wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto the scene before them. The village was in ruins. Smoke curled lazily from charred homes. Bodies littered the streets, some piled together, others sprawled out in unnatural positions.

The massacre was complete.

Bell’s tiny frame trembled as they stepped closer, their feet crunching against shattered debris. “Is anyone alive?” they screamed, their voice cracking.

The only response was the haunting sound of the wind whistling through the destroyed buildings.

Bell staggered through the streets, their heart pounding. They searched every corner, every crevice, their cries growing more frantic with each passing second.

“Please! Someone answer me!” Bell screamed, their voice hoarse.

But there was no answer. Only silence and the endless, horrifying sight of blood and death.

Their knees buckled, and they collapsed onto the ground, hugging the plush tightly against their chest. Their wails echoed through the empty village as their small body heaved with uncontrollable sobs.

The sun set, casting long shadows over the destruction, but Bell didn’t move. Their cries grew quieter as exhaustion overtook them, leaving them trembling in the dark.

The next day, they woke up in the same spot, their body stiff and aching. The reality of their solitude hit them again, and fresh tears spilled down their cheeks. But they couldn’t stay here. Not in this place of death.

Clutching the Hello Kitty plush, Bell turned and walked away from the village, their steps heavy with grief.

Days turned into weeks. Bell wandered aimlessly, their small frame growing thinner and weaker. They rarely stopped, their only goal to put as much distance between themselves and the ruins of their home as possible.

Hunger gnawed at their stomach. Their cheeks hollowed, their skin pale and sickly. The dark circles under their eyes grew more pronounced, and their once-bright gaze became dull and haunted.

A month passed, and Bell continued walking, their legs shaky and unsteady. They didn’t know where they were going, only that they couldn’t stay.

One day, from a distance, they spotted a plume of smoke curling into the sky. Their heart leaped with a glimmer of hope. Where there was smoke, there were people.

Bell pushed forward, their steps quickening despite their frailty. As they approached, they realized it wasn’t a village—it was a large military camp. Soldiers moved in and out of tents, their voices sharp and commanding.

Crouching low, Bell observed the scene. Desperation pushed them forward, and they snuck into the camp, avoiding the soldiers’ watchful eyes.

Their gaze fell on a man with a gun loosely holstered at his side. Their small fingers twitched. They needed something to protect themselves, something to ensure they could survive.

With careful steps, Bell crept closer, their movements silent. They reached out, their tiny hands grasping the weapon and pulling it free.

They had barely turned to leave when a deep, authoritative voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Well, my child, you’re very brave to steal—especially a gun of all things.”

Bell spun around, clutching the gun tightly. The man who had spoken stood tall, his sharp eyes studying them with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

The soldier whose gun had been stolen turned, his face contorted in shock and anger. “You little shit! How dare you steal from me!” he snapped, his voice rising.

Bell’s small frame didn’t waver. Their blank expression betrayed no fear. “If you’re such a professional, why was your gun loose? And why didn’t you notice me?”

The soldiers around them erupted into laughter, some clutching their sides. The embarrassed soldier turned beet red, his hands clenching into fists.

One day, Bell stumbled upon a large military camp. Smoke from campfires curled into the sky, and the sounds of soldiers shouting orders filled the air.

Desperation drove Bell forward. They snuck into the camp, their small size making it easy to slip between the soldiers unnoticed. Their sharp eyes spotted a gun loosely holstered on a soldier’s belt.

With careful precision, Bell crept closer and swiped the weapon.

“Brave move, my child,” a deep, commanding voice said suddenly.

Bell froze, clutching the gun tightly. They turned to see a tall man with sharp, piercing eyes. His face was calm, yet there was a spark of amusement in his expression.

The soldier whose gun had been stolen turned, his face red with embarrassment and rage. “You little shit!” he snapped. “How dare you steal from me!”

Bell’s blank expression didn’t waver. “If you’re such a professional, why was your gun loose? And why didn’t you notice me?”

The soldiers around them burst into laughter, while the embarrassed soldier’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.

The man with the commanding presence held up a hand, silencing the soldier. “Enough,” he said firmly.

Bell stared at him unflinchingly.

“What’s your name, little one?” the man asked, kneeling to their level.

“You first,” Bell replied boldly.

The soldiers gasped at their audacity, but the man chuckled. “My name is Perseus,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, Perseus. My name is NAME,” Bell said, extending a tiny hand for a handshake.

Perseus smiled, shaking their hand. “Why steal a gun?”

“To survive,” Bell said simply. And they told him what happened to them.

Impressed by their resilience, Perseus led them to the shooting range, testing their skills. Though weak, Bell’s aim was impressive. Perseus smiled, a rare warmth filling his expression.

Bell stood before Perseus, clutching the stolen gun and their Hello Kitty plush, their small frame trembling from exhaustion but their gaze sharp and defiant.

Perseus studied the child with keen interest, noting their resilience and the flicker of intelligence in their eyes. He rose to his full height, his commanding presence silencing any lingering chatter among the soldiers.

“Tell me, child,” Perseus said calmly, “do you know how to use that gun?”

Bell nodded, their chin lifting slightly. “My papa taught me,” they said softly, their voice wavering just enough to betray the deep grief they tried to hide.

Perseus noticed the way their hands tightened around the plush and gun, their small shoulders trembling ever so slightly. A strange feeling stirred in him—a rare mix of protectiveness and curiosity. He didn’t want to see this child break.

“Prove it,” he said, gesturing for Bell to follow.

Bell hesitated for a moment, their heart pounding in their chest, but the authority in his voice left no room for refusal. Perseus led them to a makeshift shooting range at the edge of the camp.

The soldiers followed, intrigued by the spectacle of this tiny, frail child being put to the test. Bell took their place in front of the targets, their hands trembling slightly as they adjusted their grip on the gun.

Their first few shots were shaky, the bullets missing the target entirely. Bell gritted their teeth in frustration, their face flushing as murmurs rippled through the crowd. Perseus stepped behind them, his hands guiding theirs with a surprisingly gentle touch.

“Relax,” he instructed. “Breathe. Focus.”

Bell nodded, taking a deep breath and steadying their aim. With renewed determination, they fired again. This time, the bullet struck the edge of the target.

“Good,” Perseus said, stepping back. “Now do it on your own.”

Bell adjusted their stance, their small hands firming on the grip. They fired again and again, each shot improving until the final bullet hit the center of the target.

The soldiers watching fell silent, their amusement replaced by stunned admiration. Perseus’s lips curved into a rare smile, pride gleaming in his eyes.

“This child,” he thought, “has more potential than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

Bell lowered the gun, their chest rising and falling with exertion. They turned to look at Perseus, their eyes wide and glistening. “Did I… do good?” they asked, their voice barely above a whisper.

“You did more than good,” Perseus said, his voice firm but warm. “You’ve proven yourself capable.”

Bell blinked rapidly, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to fall. They hugged the plush tightly, the weight of everything they’d endured threatening to overwhelm them.

Perseus knelt in front of Bell, his sharp gaze studying them closely. Despite their ragged clothes and gaunt appearance, there was something striking about the defiance in their eyes. He tilted his head slightly, his tone curious but firm.

“How old are you, little one?” he asked.

Bell hesitated, gripping the Hello Kitty plush tightly in their small hands. They glanced down at the ground, their bare feet covered in dirt, before looking back up at him. “Six,” they said quietly, their voice trembling slightly but still steady.

A murmur rippled through the gathered soldiers. Several exchanged shocked glances, their disbelief evident. This small, malnourished child—only six years old—had survived a massacre, killed savages with a knife, and snuck into their camp undetected.

Perseus raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “Six,” he repeated, his tone laced with admiration. “And you’ve done all this?”

Bell nodded, clutching the plush tighter. “I had to,” they said softly, their voice filled with a mix of innocence and grim determination. “They… they killed my family. I didn’t have a choice.”

Perseus’s expression softened just slightly, a rare flicker of something close to compassion in his eyes. He reached out, placing a hand gently on their shoulder. “You’re strong, little one,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Stronger than most adults I’ve met.”

Bell blinked at him, their wide eyes filling with tears, but they refused to let them fall. Instead, they straightened their back, their small frame radiating a quiet resilience that both impressed and humbled the man before them.

“From now on,” Perseus continued, his tone commanding, “you’re under my protection. No one here will harm you, and no one will call you weak. You’ve earned your place among us.”

The soldiers around them stiffened at his words, their murmurs silenced by the finality in his voice. Perseus didn’t need to repeat himself; his word was law.

Bell stared at him, their lips trembling slightly as they whispered, “Thank you.”

Perseus gave a small nod and stood, extending a hand to them. “Come,” he said. “Let’s see what else you can do.”

Bell hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand, their small fingers gripping his larger, calloused ones. For the first time in weeks, they felt a sliver of safety, a flicker of hope in the darkness that had consumed their young life.

Perseus crouched and placed a hand on their shoulder. “You have potential, child. I’m taking you under my wing. From now on, you’ll stay with me.”

Bell looked up at him, their tears spilling over as they clung to the gun and plush. Perseus, in a rare display of gentleness, carefully lifted them into his arms.

As he carried Bell back toward his tent, the soldiers parted to let them pass. Among them was Arash, his face twisted into a bitter scowl. He glared at Bell, mouthing angry words that only the child could see.

Bell, still clutching their plush, didn’t hesitate. They raised one tiny hand and flipped Arash off, their face blank but defiant.

Several soldiers stifled their laughter, their shoulders shaking as they exchanged amused glances. Arash’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening in fury.

Perseus, unaware of the exchange, brought Bell to his tent. Once inside, he set them down and began preparing a bath. He rummaged through his belongings, finding a shirt and trousers that, though far too large, would suffice for now.

Bell sat silently, watching him with wide, cautious eyes. When the bath was ready, Perseus gestured for them to step in. They hesitated but eventually obeyed, their body sinking into the warm water.

Perseus turned away to give them privacy but kept an ear out as they splashed softly in the tub then he realized most children don’t know how to bathe themselves at six so he went to help . Once they were clean, he helped them dress in his oversized clothes, the sleeves and pant legs rolled up to keep them from tripping.

He then set a plate of food in front of them. Bell ate ravenously, their small hands shoveling the meal into their mouth. Perseus watched them with a mix of amusement and satisfaction, leaning back in his chair.

When they finished, Bell’s eyelids grew heavy, their small body leaning against the cot. Perseus gently lifted them and laid them down, tucking a blanket around their tiny frame.

“Thank you for saving me,” Bell murmured sleepily, their voice barely audible.

“You’re welcome, my child,” Perseus replied, his voice softer than usual.

As Bell drifted off, still clutching their Hello Kitty plush, Perseus sat at his desk, glancing occasionally at the sleeping child. For reasons he couldn’t fully explain, he felt an odd sense of purpose.

This child, broken and battered by the horrors of life, was now under his protection. And he intended to ensure they would never feel powerless again.

[rrr-is-gay]

As funny as it is when Bheem goes up to Sita all like “you said smallpox. Who has it?” I think there’s actually a lot of sadness in that moment. They’d been on the run for so many months, nobody was helping them, they were so used to looking out for themselves, and it was just draining Bheem’s soul. He’s a healer by nature, he wants so much to help people and give of himself. That’s why he got proper fired up to help Sita when that officer kicked her. And why he was ready to jump at the chance to help folks with smallpox. It didn’t even occur to him that she was helping them. Bheem grew up in a tribal community, where reciprocity and mutual aid are very naturally and constantly practiced. Going from city to city to save Malli takes them both so far out of their element, Bheem is barely able to navigate. And it’s not cuz he’s stupid or naive, it’s because he’s adapted to an environment where people actually take care of one another. He’s been forced to unlearn that in these city environments.

Also like… he’s still recovering from the most insane, intense, cosmic level of heartbreak imaginable after Ram’s betrayal. So he’s not thinking clearly. He might suspect that Ram orchestrated their escape, but he doesn’t fully believe it. Ram hurt him so much, physically, emotionally, spiritually, psychologically. His head is probably spinning 25/8. God, my poor Bheemie baby!!! Just thinking about that period of time where he’s on the run with Malli breaks my heart.

[woso-fan13]

Baby Bunny

You plopped onto a bed in the middle of the group, landing on your stomach. Reaching over to steal a cookie from an open packet, you feel someone grab your hips. Accepting your fate, you allow the hands to pull you up and into a lap. You look up to see Emily, who tries to shift you to be cradled in her arms. 

“Em, no, I can’t. I can’t regress or I won’t be big for practice tomorrow.”

You can’t ignore the look of heartbreak on her face when you don’t call her ‘Mommy.’” But you knew what she was trying to do and as much as you wanted to relax, you couldn’t. 

“Shh, baby,” she coos in a voice that alone could cause you to regress, “calm down. Mommy’s got you. You just need to be little.”

You try to wiggle out of her grip, fighting your drop hard. Your cookie falls out of your grasp, Lindsey brushing it aside and sitting in front of you. She grabs your wrists in one hand, her other cupping your cheek. She could see the tears beginning to drop from your eyes and she knew that she had let you go too long without dropping. She leans forward, planting a kiss to your hairline. 

“Relax, sweetheart. There’s no practice tomorrow, but we have something else planned. You can stay big if you want to, but it might be more fun when you’re little.”

You become slack in Emily’s arms, gasping shaky inhales. And then an infantile cry pierces through the air. Emily stands with you in her arms and begins pacing the room. Your head is buried in her neck, searching for any possible comfort. Lindsey rushes around, gathering a clean diaper and a onesie for you, as well as grabbing your pacifier and comfort blanket from the dresser. 

The others could hear your cries through the wall. They knew that- after you had some sleep and love- you would love the surprise tomorrow. 

—-

You’re on your belly when you wake up, whining to let your mommies know that you woke up. Strong arms pick you up and pull you into a warm body. You relax for just a few seconds before you realize that these aren’t Mommy’s or Mama’s arms. You take a big breath to start wailing before you hear a familiar voice. 

“Whoa, there, sweet pea, you’re okay.” 

You look excitedly up at the voice, your unfocused eyes trying to look at your Aunt Mallie. You babble happily at her, giggling when she scrunches her face up at you. She wasn’t one of your moms, but Mallie was the next best thing. 

You allowed her to quickly change you and pull your pajamas back on before you start fidgeting. She laughs as you try to alligator roll away, catching you before you end up on the ground. 

She ends up settled in the bed, propped up against pillows as she cradles you. You're happily suckling away at your baba, playing with and twisting the ring on her finger. Eventually, your bottle was gone, you were burped, and you were left simply staring at Mal through hazy eyes. She would be quick to admit, this was one of her favorite ages. You were an absolute cuddle monster, you never talked back, and you could be entertained by her tapping your belly every few minutes. If she had her way, she would have kept you wrapped up with her all day. 

But the door soon opened, two familiar figures entering. When you hear their voices, you start wriggling, babbling a ‘mamama’ sound repeatedly.

Their eyes meet, silently cursing. They had let you go so long without regressing, they knew that you were going to be young. They just didn’t expect you to be that young. You weren’t even at an age where you could really appreciate the surprise. But what’s done is done, and they just had to move forward and hope that their surprise included enough non-choking hazards. 

—-

You were feeling slightly older by the time you and your moms got to the field, now just over a year. You were walking between them, your hands firmly gripped in their own. They didn’t trust your balance enough to keep you upright and they didn’t need a meltdown. 

You look up from your feet to see your friends, letting go of your moms’ hands and excitedly toddling towards them. Luckily, Alex scooped you up into her arms before you managed to trip over your own feet. 

“Look at that, I caught a baby bunny. Hi baby bunny!” She greets you, tipping you back. You squeal, your hands gripping tightly to her shirt. She laughs, and hands you over to your Mama when she reaches for you. 

You try to snuggle into Mama, but she stops you. Pouting, you begin to try again when she pulls you away from her body and sets you on the ground. You are so close to throwing a tantrum when Mommy steps in, pushing something into your hands.

“Alright, kiddo, today’s a very special day,” you look at her, focusing on her words, “it’s Easter, which means we had a very special visitor last night. Do you know who?”

“‘Unny!” you shout excitedly. That was an easy question. 

“Well done! And the bunny left us lots of eggs, so we need to go find them.”

Emily hadn’t even finished explaining everything to you before you took off at a rapid stumble to find eggs. Deciding to follow your lead, your moms grab your hands and allow you to pull them around on your search for the brightly colored plastic eggs. 

The rest of the morning was spent at the field, everyone enjoying the fresh air and the lazy sun. They all happily sat through multiple tours of your Easter basket and allowed you to babble brightly. Kelley took to chasing you, laughing as you would toddle a few steps. When you started getting wobbly, she would grab you from behind and swing you through the air. Your giggles rang loudly through the stadium. 

At least a dozen phones captured videos and photos of the excitement. Videos of your shrieking laughter and your happy shouts were shared, and pictures of your facial expressions were laughed and cooed over. It was certainly a memorable holiday. 

[rattlyglitch]

A Dream of Eternity

(Italics mean singing and bold is the voice of Malleus's mother Meleanor. Also, I hope you enjoy part two of this fic.)

Silver was confused when his father had to leave. Nothing seemed to be wrong as far as he knew. "Why do you have to go Papa?" He had asked the question looking at his father who as far as he knew had the answers to any question that he may ask. Lilia crouched down to Silver's height and smiled at his son. "I have to attend to some things I have been ordered to do. You mustn't worry I will be back soon and while I am away Malleus will be watching over you."

Silver looked at Lilia again with another question in mind. "How long will you be gone?" Silver couldn't tell but the smile on Lilia's face was a disguise but still held uncertainty. "I will most likely be back a week from today. Until then though promise me you'll be brave ok?" Lilia held out his pinky to Silver who soon hooked in with his own.

"I'll be brave for Papa while I'm with Mallie." The joy that Silver saw on Lilia's face was full of nothing but awe after hearing the name Silver had given for Malleus. "I know you will my little knight. Papa loves you." Lilia placed a gentle kiss on Silver's forehead before leaving.

Silver looked up at Malleus with excitement for the days that were to come. On the third day that Lilia was away Silver and Malleus spent their time playing outside after Silver had asked Malleus if they could. The elder had seemed weary about going outside with Silver but seemed to have finally caved in and agreed.

Silver took Malleus' hand as quickly as possible after he put his shoes on and led the fae prince outside. Silver hurried to show Malleus to a pod nearby where ducks and fish swam while other animals seemed to take their drink of the water. Malleus and Silver spend most of their time outside playing tag or just sitting and watching everything be peaceful.

After some time Silver seemingly took bread crumbs out of his left and tossed them carefully to the ducks and fish before going into his right and taking out bird seeds and sprinkling them on the ground. Small birds soon wandered up to the seeds and began to eat at them. Silver made sure that his pockets were empty before walking over to Malleus and watching all the animals.

After they were still for some time a deer seemed to come out with two of her babies. When she came out Silver motioned for Malleus to bend down and whispered in his ear. "I named her Fauna and she has two sisters. I don't know where they are. Their nice too." Malleus nodded slightly to show that he was listening to Silver as he spoke. "What are the names of the other two deer?" he whispered back. "Merryweather and Flora."

Malleus seemed to give a nod of approval which made Silver's face light but before the two of them returned to watching the animals. After half an hour more had passed Malleus decided it was best to head inside. "You wouldn't watch to catch a cold, would you? If your father returned home earlier it would be a shame if you were sick."

Silver knew better than to try and find a reason against why Malleus had brought him in so early and agreed. the sun seemed to be setting and Silver remembered his papa mentioning that meant it was time to head back inside then. Malleus cooked up some food and Silver waited patiently at the table looking over a carving of a duck Malleus had made while he and Silver were outside.

Soon enough the food was finished and Silver was ready to eat. It was a stew that Malleus had made and Silver found it quite enjoyable. His Papa's cooking always made Silver nervous so he was glad that Malleus was a better cook somewhat than him. After the two of them had their share of food Malleus readied Silver for bed and the two headed off to Silver's room.

Silver wasn't sure why but he felt wide awake and unable to fall asleep when getting ready for bed. Malleus had tried most of what his father did. He read to Silver, made sure that he wasn't hungry, and even tried rocking him. Silver felt just as confused as Malleus was but looked at Malleus with a smile on his face before saying one singular word.

"Sing?"

Malleus seemed a bit surprised but there was no rejection to the question asked and soon Silver heard Malleus begin to sing as he cradled Silver against his chest.

"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream."

Silver looked up at Malleus with happiness as the song began. Malleus though seemed to have an odd look in his eyes. It was the one Silver had seen his Papa get when the animals kept crowding around Silver and he couldn't get anywhere near him. Lilia had explained to Silver what the emotion was once before. It took a few minutes before he finally was able to remember the word.

Jealousy.

It was when someone wanted something that another had. Silver couldn't place the reason why Malleus would be looking at him like that though.

"I know you. That gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam."

Silver's mind soon drifted to something else. Some kind of strange green mist seemed to be circling him and Malleus. Silver knew that it was magic of some sort but he wasn't sure what. Ever so carefully he brushed the mist and suddenly a small string of it seemed to wrap around his pointer finger.

"And I know it's true, that visions are seldom all they seem."

Following the string with his eyes Silver saw a weird spinning machine. It seemed to glow green just like the mist that surrounded him and Malleus. In a way, it almost seemed enticing. A part of Silver wanted to leave Malleus's arms and go over and touch it. See why the machine had thread coming from it and why it was attached to his finger. Silver knew his Papa would find use in the thread somehow. Silver felt himself grow drowsy though and fall asleep. Even in sleep though Silver could still faintly hear Malleus singing.

"But if I know you I know what you'll do you'll love me at once the way you did once upon a dream."

Silver was going to open his eyes to ask Malleus to sing more but heard a weird voice. The voice scared Silver though. It sounded like the scary story Lilia had once told Silver about a lady luring two kids to her house of sweets to eat them.

"You shall prick your finger upon a spinning wheel and die child."

As soon as those words were spoken Silver was overcome with sleep. When Silver woke up again he felt like he had been sleeping for a long time. He was being held by Malleus and saw him and his Papa looking at him worried. Silver frowned in confusion but still smiled at them as he gave a small wave. "Morning Papa. Morning Mallie."

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 

[ratsoh-writes]

I want to hang out with the old ladies.... and Mutt... and the temple bros.... and check in with Rowdy, and get closer to Partner.... and go prank Slim with Coffee.... And get closer to Sans and his gang if buddies (while pushing him and Wine closer)... and coo over the babies with Artemis, and make sure Helios is happy and THOUSAND OTHER THINGS!!!!!

Geez, and all of this with just KYRA!! WHAT AM I GONNA DO WITH MALLY?!?

Djdhdhdhhjdhd

[enigma-the-mysterious]

WIP Wednesday: All progress so far!

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Join the Community

@aparticularbandit @whimsicalmeerkat @stonemaskedtaliesin @owlbearwrites @adhdavinci @mystarduststories

[Blue indicates previously written lines]

"Bhai, what would you do if you ever woke up as a jalebi? Would you try to eat yourself?"

"...."

"I know I would."

"Akhtar, what the fuck?!"

The point was, the man lived for food. He had the appetite of a baby elephant. At home, his doting mother had no qualms about spoiling her beloved son with his favorite delicacies. Even when he was at Ram's apartment, Akhtar was often helping himself to the snacks pilfered from his kitchen. 

So, when Ram found himself wandering into an English confectionery shop on a whim after another long and futile day spent roaming the streets of Delhi in search of his target, there was one thought that dominated his mind. 

Akhtar would have loved it here.

---------------

"What is this, bhai?" Akhtar asked as he curiously peered into the packet in Ram's kitchen.

Ram smiled as he put the stove on heat. "The English call it chocolate."

"Choco…late?" Akhtar repeated, rolling the new word off his tongue.

"You can put it in cakes, or sweets," Ram explained, walking past his friend to grab the bowl of water by his side. "Or use it to make a drink."

Akhtar followed him to the stove, watching as he placed the vessel on the stove. Always so observant, his Akhtar.

"Drink? Like a chai or sharbat?"

@eriquin @zyrafowe-sny @violet-prism-creatively

"Stop it!"

Bheem froze, not because of the command, but because of the voice. That damned voice.

The sea of khaki parted to make way for blood red and gold. Bheem's lips twisted in disgust. 

He held his head high and kept his eyes trained on the bars of his cell, beyond the rigid shoulders that marched towards him. Bheem did not squander his attention on his enemies.

(And not because he could not bear to see the face that looked nothing like the man he once smiled at, laughed with, ate with, called broth-)  

"Keep struggling and it is Malli who will pay for your stubbornness," he said, curt, low, cold.

@1attheedge @auburnlaughter

[Blue indicates previously written lines]

Ram hissed as he began to pull the shirt off himself. The fabric caught on the congealing blood over the claw wounds and pulled on the fragile scabs.

Fuck, that hurt.

He took a deep breath, clenched his jaw and ripped the shirt off his torso.

Ram's vision blacked out and his knees almost buckled from the searing agony that shot through his chest. He choked on a sob as hot tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

It was from the pain throbbing through his wounds, he told himself.

(He had gone through worse without batting an eye, without shedding a single tear)

@somefishycat @kalira @scifikimmi

[Blue indicates previously written lines]

The whip was slick with his blood.

"Kneel."

He wouldn't.

His back was flayed to the bone.

"Kneel."

He wouldn't.

The nails stuck to his skin, hugging, crushing, suffocating, ripping off his flesh and muscles and veins.

"Kneel."

He would'nt.

"Kneel, or die."

He chose death. It did not come easily.

@sourb0i @wizisbored @violet-prism-creatively

"And I am sorry for giving you so many scars."

"Because you never struck me at the same place twice."

Ram's breath hitched in his throat. His head snapped up and he stared at Bheem, wide eyed and dumbfounded. 

Did he....

Bheem simply smiled.

"I am a healer too, anna. Do you think I do not know how the human body works? How much punishment it can take?"

[hannahhook7744]

Even A Ghost Needs A Friend—

Summary: How the ghost of little Hannah Hook met Amira (the daughter of Aladdin and Jasmine), Kyle White (the son of Snow White and Prince Florian), and Joy Foxworth (the daughter of Jenny Foxworth and Nibs Darling).  Written with: @casinotrio1965Casino1965 and BloomBenevolence. Trigger warnings: ghosts/children not being good at social cues, child ghosts, past child death, etc.

---------------------------------------------------------

Being a ghost was boring and lonely.

There was no one to keep you company other than other ghosts—some of those who'd died but didn't know it, some of those who looked the same as they had when they died. 

Some of those who didn't even realize you were there. 

Which was exactly why little Hannah Hook, who had died at the ripe old age of seven, had decided that she much preferred the presence of the living. Even if they rathered she stayed far away from them. 

Joy was in her dorm room watching her rabbit, Taffy, run around when she heard a strange giggling sound, which was weird because she thought she was alone right now.

“Hello? Is anyone there ?” Joy asked. 

“Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!” Hannah giggled, watching as the red head chased the strange looking ‘cat’ she called ‘Taffy’.  At least, she thought it was a cat. She'd never seen a creature that looked like that on the isle. 

At least, not outside of a book.

“More like bunny, kid .. umm but where exactly are you?” Joy asked again, more confused than ever. “Also who are you ??”

Hannah just giggled again.  “Guess!”

“Wait … are you the Ghost of Auradon Prep aka Hannah Hook ??!” Joy guessed, both scared and excited at the same time.

Clap. 

“Yep!” She jumped on one of the beds’ in the room, laughing and clapping. “Bunny, bunny, bunny!”

“Well it’s very nice to meet you, I’m Joy Foxworth, daughter of Jenny Foxworth and Nibs the Lost Boy! Anyway, how long have you been here ? ” 

The pirate paused for a long moment. “In th’ room or th’ school?”

“The school,” Joy replied.

“Uh…when Mally, Jay-Jay, ‘Los, and E came!” Hannah answered, scrunching up her nose as she tried to give a helpful answer.

“Oh so you're from the isle? That’s really cool!”  Joy had figured that she had been born and had died before the isle’s creation, like the rumors she'd heard had said. “Anyway … would you like to pet my bunny? I mean if you’re able too..”

The brunette squealed in excitement, falling off the bed (it was a good thing she couldn't feel pain anymore). Causing a loud thud to ring out through the room. 

“YES PLEASE!” Even in death, the gap in between her teeth made her ‘please’ sound more like ‘pees’.

“Ok then.” Joy picked up Taffy and placed her on the floor where  she thought Hannah was at (since she couldn't see her at the moment)? “Be very gentle, ok ?”

“Ok Joy!”

With that, Hannah carefully picked Taffy up (making it appear as if she was floating) and very gently ran her hand down her back. Still giggling. 

She was probably the softest thing the daughter of Captain Hook had ever touched and was much smaller than any of the babies Hannah had ever held. 

She loved her. 

------------------------------------------------------------

Refa growled at the tiny intruder. 

A tiny intruder that Amira couldn't see. 

Amira looked around and put a gentle hand on Refa’s loose collar just in case.

"Hi! I likes your tiger! Can they talks? My friend's mama is a tiger who can talk! We don't know hows since she isn't a tiger, but still!” Hannah rambled with a squeaky voice, still invisible to the older girl. But, not to the tiger, surprisingly.

The pirate had forgotten that animals could still see her even when humans couldn't. Again. 

In her defense, it's not like they acknowledged her all that often. At least she thought they didn't…. she didn't know many talking animals.

Now Amira was a tad spooked. The voice did sound friendly but still. “Hi? Who are you? My Tiger can do usual tiger stuff but not talk human languages without an animal-to-human translator.” 

"I'm Hannah Hook! Greatest pirate on the isle!” The girl paused for a moment. “Ands off the isle now, toos I guess!”

“Oh?” The princess asks curiously, tilting her head—unknowingly being mimicked by the girl. Unable to help but wonder what had happened to this young sounding girl and if she could somehow help her. “You’re a far way from the isle. You okay? Feeling homesick.”

Hannah scrunched up her nose in confusion, unfamiliar with the term. “... I don't know. What's tha' ?”

“Homesick? It’s when you miss home. Maybe the waters and the smell of the wood or something?”

There was another long pause as the girl clearly thought about it. "I... guess I misses home. But I can't goes back.”

“I’m sorry.” Amira said, lips pressed thinly together. Hoping she didn't look too sad and scare the girl off. “You want a hug?” An air hug where the voice was maybe would suffice?

Hannah perked up. “Sure! I likes hugs but I don't gets them often!” 

“I have an uncle and an aunt on the isle and cousins too.” Amira says solemnly. “What brings you here to Agrabah?”

"I'm protectin' 'los, E, and Mally... And jay-jay too I guess!” She had a slight lisp to her voice. 

“Oh. The new kids off the isle. They’re safe. Don’t worry. They don’t need protecting though it’s good you watch over them. You can rest. What’s keeping you here?” Amira wondered aloud, mostly to herself as she fiddled with her bangle. 

"Their siblin’s askeds me to, cause I’s there friend!” Hannah replied instantly, before her tone switched to a sadder one without warning. “But I think it's cause they don't wants to see mes anymore cause I make them sad.”

It was a thought the pirate had, had for awhile.

Her friends claimed that they still loved having her around when she'd brought it up and denied that it made them sad, of course. But Hannah knew better. Knew them better than to believe that. 

They were sad she was dead.

Sad that she wasn't growing up with them. 

Sad and disappointed.

Something else she knew, is that If they'd known she wouldn't mature with them they probably wouldn't have brought her back in the first place. But they hadn't and now seeing and speaking and touching her was like torture to them. 

But she couldn't dwell on that. 

“Well . . . What do you want to do? They’re protected. You have some time you can spend for yourself too.” Amira said softly. 

"I... I don't knows. I don't know anyone here, 'cept Benny but he gets sad too whens he looks at me.” He had ever since he'd met her and she hated it. It wasn't his fault she was dead. 

It wasn't her fault either.

It was her or her friend and his big sister. 

She'd made her choice and it was the right one. So why was everyone so sad about it?

“Well, now you know me. I’m Amira. Princess Amira of Agrabah. At your service.” The brunette pointed out, before giving the darker haired girl the hug she'd promised (or at least, trying to. Given she still couldn't see her). “Can you show yourself? If you’re comfortable that is and if you can do it on command?”

Immediately Hannah protested, being mindful of her hands so she wouldn't accidentally smack the older girl like she's done to her siblings, friends, and others over the years when not paying attention. "But you'll get sads when you sees me and then I'll have to go away, and we won't be friends.”

“I’ll try to not make you sad by being sad.” Amira hoped that was enough to assure the little one and that she didn't sound too earnest.

Hannah bit her lip. 

Weighing the pros and cons in her little mind. Before sighing. "You promise?’

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “I promise.”

With that, the seven year old appeared.

Hannah had brown hair that was just a tad shorter and darker than hers with white and teal bangs, cuts on her face and a white billowing dress with splotches of blood from old wounds that Amira guessed had probably caused her demise. 

The young Agrabahian was glad she'd braced herself. She was sad still, but didn't show it— keeping it all on the inside because she had promised. “I like your hair. And welcome to the school.”

“Thank you, I was born with it!” Then, remembering her manners, the ghost added. "Oh, and I likes ya clothes! They pretty.”

“Thanks.” Amira says as she curtsies in her pink and golden outfit.

The little pirate giggled for real this time, copying her—only to lean too far forward and faceplant for what had to be the third time this week. And it was only Monday!

Amira offered her a hand and tried to help her.

Hannah quickly made herself solid so that the older girl wouldn't feel embarrassed or sad about not being able to touch her, allowing herself to be lifted to a standing position.

The princess smiled and showed her again, slower this time. “It’s all in leg placement.”

---------------------------------------------------------

Really, if you had to ask what Hannah Hook thought the worst thing about being dead was, she would say that getting lost was.

Because honestly, being lost was all sorts of annoying when you needed a lot of energy to be seen by most people and be able to be touched, and to just get help in general. Which after all the interacting Hannah had been doing with the living lately, she really didn’t have at the moment. 

Which was the reason that the little pirate had been wandering around aimlessly for the past six hours trying to find anyone she recognized that wasn’t likely to scream if ‘thin air’ talked to them. Preferably Mal, who was probably the only one who could see her without Hannah having to put in any effort, unlike everyone else in the stupidly bright and loud school. 

“Uh…are one supposed to be here?”

…Or almost everyone, seeing as Snow White’s punk son—Kevin? Kent? Kenny? No, no. Kyle  Yeah, Kyle that was it—was currently starring at her. Occasionally squinting at his coffee cup as if it was the reason he was able to see her.

If that was the case, then Hannah needed to get that drink to every other living being in Auradon because being dead was soooo dull and lifeless. Pun intended. 

“I’m dead. I can go anywheres I wants!” Hannah replied, grinning at the menace that Joy and Amira talked so fondly of. 

The prince just squinted at her and grimaced, peering down at his drink. “Maybe Sophie was right—this stuff is frying my brain.”