IN WHICH,
the daughter of scar is chosen to live at auradon. her plan was to get the wand for her father back at home, never to fall in love with the green eyed son of beast.
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Only Exception by Paramore
The Isle of the Lost was a dump—cracked pavement, rusted street signs, and an air of desperation that clung to its people like a bad smell. But for Tatiana Scar, it was just another day.
She strolled through the marketplace, gold jewelry clinking softly with every step. Her brown braids, tipped with golden curls, bounced slightly as she moved. Her sharp eyes scanned the crowd, not out of curiosity, but out of habit. You had to stay alert on the Isle—hesitate for a second, and someone would take what was yours.
"Oi, princess," a familiar voice called.
Tatiana smirked before she even turned around. Harry Hook draped an arm over her shoulders, the scent of saltwater and leather lingering on him. His signature hook gleamed as he spun it between his fingers.
"Harry," she greeted, bumping her hip against his. "You look like you just lost a fight with a fish."
"And you look like you robbed a royal treasury," he shot back, flicking one of her golden bracelets.
Tatiana rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lips twitched. Harry was one of the few people she actually tolerated, and the only one who could get away with teasing her.
"Uma's been on my case," Harry mused, tugging at his coat. "Thinks I spend too much time with ya."
"She's got a point," Tatiana smirked. "You are a little obsessed with me."
Harry leaned in, grinning. "Takes one to know one, love."
Tatiana shoved him, laughing, but before he could retaliate, a voice cut through the air.
"Move."
Tatiana's expression darkened as she turned to see Mal standing there, arms crossed, her signature smirk in place.
The two girls locked eyes.
"You've got legs," Tatiana said flatly. "Use them."
Harry let out a low whistle, stepping back slightly, knowing better than to get between them.
Mal raised an eyebrow. "You're blocking my way."
Tatiana tilted her head, feigning confusion. "Oh, is this your street now? Funny, I don't see your name on it."
Mal stepped forward, her voice lowering. "You act tough, Scar, but you're just like the rest of us—stuck here, fighting for scraps."
Tatiana's jaw tightened. "Maybe. But unlike you, I don't have to play leader to feel important."
Mal's eyes flashed, and for a second, Tatiana almost wished she'd take a swing. She was itching for a fight.
Instead, Mal scoffed and brushed past her, muttering, "Not worth it."
