Epilogue

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Contains: Graphic depictions of violence in the form of some rather creative executions.

P.S: All questions, comments and concerns after the epilogue will be promptly addressed, as I am an attention whore who loves to talk about the story. PM me or leave a comment and I'll get back to you.

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Carlos never wanted revenge on Roger and Anita, who'd petitioned to have him taken from the Isle as a baby. He'd also met with them for breakfast, and found that despite their overwhelming love for dogs, they were rather nice people, and he offered them jobs in the capital, which they refused politely, to stay in their darling cottage in the countryside of Charmington. That cottage to which Carlos and all his family had an open invitation.

"You have to understand, Carlos dear. We never wanted to send your mother to that awful place. She was a very ill woman who needed to be in a hospital, not a prison." Anita murmured.

"I know. If anyone knows that, it's me." Carlos replied weakly. He knew they spoke the truth. He'd seen it in court records.

"You poor kid. Have another iced coffee on us." Roger chimed in (Carlos loved Auradon coffee, so sweet and rich, and ten different kinds of chocolate), and his wife smacked his arm.

"Any more caffeine and he'll be jumpier than a rabbit!" Anita chided him playfully.

(They still thought they had to buy him things. Him, one of the richest men in the world.)

"That's okay," Carlos laughed. "I've been drinking coffee since I was a kid, so I have a high caffeine tolerance."

And then they gave him that look again, the one they showed whenever he said anything, however small, to indicate how bad his childhood was. It was something like sadness, pity, and righteous anger rolled into one.

If the thought of a child drinking coffee has them so riled up, I guess I shouldn't show them my scars. Carlos thought bitterly.

He couldn't afford to spend too much time with them, the kind couple from Charmington. Because Roger and Anita treated him like a child, and Carlos hadn't been a child in a long, long time. Especially not their child.

Plus, Carlos (of this timeline at least) was still firmly a cat person.

They were so close now. As much as Mal herself wanted to have been the one to end the Beast, she had to content herself with waiting her turn for Aurora and Phillip. The next executioner was Jay, who stood in front of Aladdin and Jasmine with a grim expression.

"You stole my inheritance. I haven't yet been able to contact my family, and you're so, so lucky your execution is scheduled for now, and not later." Jay hissed. "If I can't find my family because they're dead, or homeless, your deaths would be so much worse."

Aladdin opened his mouth to protest, but Mal cast a spell, and no sound came out. They'd already used a truth spell during interrogation to find out that Aladdin really hadn't known about Jay's family, so anything he could have said was merely begging for his life or Jasmine's. Jay wasn't cruel. It would only hurt him and cool his anger to hear them beg, and Mal truly believed this had to be done. The three watched like impassive statues as Jay passed down judgement.

"You're a thief, Aladdin." Jay growled. "And you know what they do with thieves in Agrabah."

Two heads rolled that day, and they always cleaned up the blood by themselves, the four of them. The servants knew there were executions of course, but Mal didn't want to make them clean up blood in the palace. So the killings always happened in the dungeons, and they always cleaned up after themselves. Fatima was getting the same vetting process as Tiana and Naveen's heirs, Nicole and Tomas, all hoping to someday rule. Aziz wanted to be a professional Tourney player.

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