#rotten OT4 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thebluestbluewords · 1 year

Text

Rhyming is hard

This is about 90% an excuse for me to write Banter, 9% jokes about murder, 1% plot. I wrote the dialogue for this over a year ago, and scavenged it from my drafts to clean up yesterday.

“Mirror, feel my evil presence,” Evie chants, clutching the mirror in one hand like it’s a call phone. “Show me the location of our parents.”

“That’s seriously the rhyme you’re going with?” Mal asks, leaning over the table to stare at the mirror as Evie sets in down in the middle of their huddle.

Evie frowns. “What do you think rhymes with parents?”

Mal’s nose scrunches up as she thinks. “Errants? Aberrants?“ she offers. “Um, clearance?”

“Insurance,” Jay adds. “Which won’t help against theft here, cause apparently they’re all too good for that. Don’t buy a phone from the guy in town unless you’re okay with getting it stolen, by the way.”

“Don’t tell me that.” Ben says firmly, leaning over Evie’s head to see the mirror as well. The black smoke curls angrily, like the magic contained in the mirror is trying to escape the glass and smash their faces in for daring to use it for frivolous things like checking up on their parents, and then begins to clear.

“Incoherence?” Carlos offers, drumming the very tips of his fingers on the table. “I think your rhyme was good though, Evie. I’m just offering suggestions for next time.”

“Shut up, it’s working.” Mal gasps, pushing him out of the way as the smoke inside the mirror swirls into the beginnings of a clear picture.

The background resolves itself first, into a deep grey wall made of rough stone. The figure standing in front of it is small in stature, which is made all the more obvious by the gigantic crow sitting on her shoulder.

“My mother,” Mal says, sounding almost disappointed. “As alive and evil as ever.”

“Didn’t need a mirror for that one, babe.” Evie says fondly. “Pretty sure we all remember what she looks like, considering that she’s been the bane of our existence for the last sixteen years.”

Mal, on the pretense of leaning closer to the mirror, puts her hand over Evie’s on the table, interlacing their fingers. “Maybe Ben wanted to know, and also shut up. It’s changing.”

The mirror is changing, but not to a nicer sight. The background darkens, and the view of Maleficent monologuing to Diablo fades out. The background turns a nasty, muddy shade of grey-brown, and the figure visible in the mirror doesn’t look much nicer. He’s filthy, for one thing, and he’s wearing a collection of leather scraps that would be better suited to a scarecrow than a living person.

He’s also swinging a shovel at the wall with what looks like increasing violence, and his hair is on fire.

“Dear old dad,” Mal drawls. “Great to see him expanding the cave for once.”

“Is that Hades?” Ben asks, in a tone that could generously be described as ‘strangled’.

Mal laughs. “Yeah. My mom wanted a powerful kid. She didn’t pick him cause he’s a great father, she picked him ‘cause he’s one of the most powerful entities on the isle. And I guess ‘cause he was DTF, or whatever. Chernabog isn’t much for procreation.”

“Wow.”

“I can’t raise the dead or anything,” Mal explains, eyes still locked on the mirror. “Not even a fly. I just get some sick highlights in my hair when I use his fire, and some cool shit happened with a ouija board once.”

“That’s, uh, cool!” Ben manages, before the mirror swirls again, and a new face comes into view.

“The Evil Queen,” Carlos says, reaching out to touch the side of the mirror. “Do you think the mirror’s showing her in better light because it’s magic and it likes her better, or does her castle just have better lighting?”

“Mother’s castle has flattering light,” Evie says, but it’s her turn to stare at the mirror, eyes blank and lips slightly, beautifully parted. “She keeps it that way on purpose. For visitors.”

“Not that you got many.”

Mal’s hand is warm and firm over Evie’s own. Her exile should be an old wound by now, but even old injuries, even ones that can be treated softly now, still ache sometimes.

In the surface of the mirror, the Evil Queen is stabbing a needle, over and over, into the soft flesh on the inside of her legs. Behind her, there’s an intimidatingly large stone cauldron resting on a low fire.

“Is she—“

“She’s fine,” Evie says quickly. She’s still staring at the mirror, but she’s looking through it now, like she can’t bear to see her mother through the magic. “That’s what she does, most days. She’s just waiting while the cauldron heats up.”

“Pretty fucked up.”

“It’s not anything magical,” Evie says, but her voice is soft and she’s still focused on the mirror. “It’s acupuncture. She’s doing it for weight loss. And the cauldron isn’t magical either, it’s just some makeup compounds that don’t come over on the barges.”

Jay whistles, low and long. “That’s a pretty big cauldron for some makeup, princess.”

Evie startles out of her stare. “Oh, we sold it. She’s not boiling children’s skulls or anything like that. It’s a foundation base. She boils down some of the plants that come over and then adds pigments for each customer. It’s a pretty good business practice, and if we didn’t like somebody it was really easy to sneak something a little bit nastier than just pigment into their bottle.”

“Oh.” Ben says. He’s leaning over Evie’s shoulder to see the mirror, and he doesn’t pull back, but his shoulders tense at the mention of Evie’s mother slipping something untoward into a bottle. He’s got sort of a thing about poisons and edible spells, which is understandable. “I see.”

“Evil, babe,” Evie reminds him, tipping her chin up to look him in the face. “We didn’t exactly have a lot of other options.”

Unseen by Evie, the mirror swirls again. This time, it reforms to show a crumpled skeleton, surrounded by pieces of rusty metal.

“Uh, who’s that?” Ben asks after a moment, staring over Evie’s shoulder again. He looks a bit like someone watching a car wreck happening, but in a casual way. Like watching a car wreck on TV, maybe.

Evie glances back down at the mirror, and then recoils visibly at the pile of bones. “Oh, ew. I guess I didn’t word the request very well. That’s my father’s corpse.”

“Is that a dungeon?”

“It’s my mother’s dungeon, yes.” Evie explains. “She had my father killed down there shortly after I was born.”

“I’m sorry.”

Evie shrugs. “Thanks, I guess. She had him killed when I was a baby, so it’s not like I ever got to know him.”

Mal drops her head onto Evie’s shoulder. “Not like he was a big loss.”

“Come on, M,” Evie says fondly, tipping her head so that it rests on top of Mal’s, just for a moment. “Just because you don’t like your father doesn’t mean we all have to hate ours.”

“You never knew yours!” Mal points out. “And he was a man, E. We all know what men on the island are like.”

“I could have liked him.” Evie insists. “He might have been better that your dad. Not everyone is a bad parent.”

“Right, just everyone on the isle, then.”

“I know my dad,” Jay adds, leaning over to insert himself into the girl’s space. “Not to sway our data here, but I agree with Mal. There’s way more bad parents on the island than good ones, and my dad’s shit. Mal’s dad is shit. Evie’s dad is dead, so he’s not doing great either—“

“It’s changing again!” Carlos points out, smacking the table next to where Evie’s set the mirror down in order to argue better.

Five heads snap back to attention as the mirror swirls, and reforms into quite a different view. The background this time is bright grey, the color of the sky on a rainy spring day, the sort of day where the sun is trying and failing valiantly at breaking through the cloud cover. There’s a shop in the foreground, with a garish pink and green sign declaring it to be ‘the goblin mud spa’, and a bright copper car parked out front. There’s a woman in the front seat of the car, holding the steering wheel with one hand, and balancing a dirty glass in the fingertips of the other.

Carlos makes a soft, sad sort of noise. “…oh.”

On the surface of the mirror, his mother throws back the remainder of her drink.

“Is that normal?” Ben asks, leaning in to get a better look. “Drinking and driving isn’t exactly legal.”

Carlos’s hands aren’t visible, but there’s a sense of nervous, fidgety energy from him anyway. “…Yeah. She does that a lot. Goes away, drinks a lot, comes back stupid.”

“Magic mirror, move on,” Evie whispers, after they all stare for a long moment at the unmoving view of Cruella and her beloved car.

“Why isn’t it changing?” Mal asks. “It didn’t show my mom for this long.”

“You don’t wanna know,” Carlos mumbles, around the fingertip he’s got in his mouth. There’s a drop of blood smeared on the corner of his mouth, and it’s not entirely clear if his hand was bleeding before or after he started chewing on it. “Trust me.”

Mal frowns. “I totally do. Telling me I don’t want to know something is basically like slapping a neon sign on it telling me to keep digging until I find out. How do you not know know this already?”

Carlos sighs, and reaches out with his other hand to hover his index finger just over the surface of the mirror, above where his mother is pulling the strap of her soft leather purse over her shoulder. “That’s my dad. Human remains count, and that leather she used for her purse is the biggest piece of him left.”

Mal tries to recoil away from the mirror. but they’re so tightly packed around the table that she really just ends up shoving herself harder into Evie’s side. “Oh, gross. That can’t be hygienic.”

Carlos stares at her. “It’s leather. Humans aren’t any different than cows inside. Is wearing cow leather gross?”

Mal’s pale cheeks are somehow even paler than usual. “Yes,” she snaps. “It’s different.”

“It’s fine, you just have to process it properly,” Carlos says, leaning ever so slightly closer to her. “And besides, it’s not like there were any concerns about fluid bonding when she scraped the flesh off his skin. They’d already been there, done that, had a kid to prove it.”

“Gross,” Mal groans, burying her face in Evie’s shoulder. Conveniently, Evie’s wearing her coat with the mini caplet attached today, and Mal pulls the extra leather over her head. “You ever heard of a thing called TMI?”

Carlos smiles, but it’s not a very nice expression. More like an animal showing their teeth. “Evil, remember?”

“That’s horrible.” Ben says firmly. “I don’t mind knowing, but it’s still awful, and I’m glad you’re not there anymore.”

“Yeah, well,” Carlos mumbles, sitting back now that his point’s been made. “It’s changing again.”

The mirror clouds over with dark swirls, and clears to an image of Jafar, standing behind the counter of a shop while a woman in an emerald green dress examines a handful of jewelry that’s spread over the counter between them.

Jay waves a hand at the mirror, middle finger firmly up.

Ben laughs. “I take it there’s no lost love there?”

Jay grins. He’s still flipping off the image of Jafar in the mirror, even as the picture shows him carefully slipping one of the rings onto the woman’s finger, mouth moving like he’s flattering her the whole time. “Nah. Not really. He’s charming and all, but not a great parent, you know?”

Ben’s nodding before the words are even finished. “Yeah, that’s fair,” he agrees. “My dad isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy either.” Mal’s mother might be charming when she wants to be, and Evie’s mother is beautiful and dangerous and enticing, but Ben’s father has made a career out of walking the line between being loved and being feared, and neither of those things has made him the kind, attentive parent that Ben needed. Even more than the others, he can understand the pressure of having a career politician for a parent. “I wish you’d been able to get away sooner.”

“Me too,” Mal agrees, reaching across Evie to tap her fingers on one of the scars that runs, white and twisted and bold, across Jay’s wrist. “Your dad’s a dick.”

The mirror swirls again; the picture resolves into a patch of ocean. Very deep, dark, empty ocean.

“Is that the ocean?” Evie asks, staring. “I didn’t think any of our parents were the sort to get murdered by pirates.”

Jay makes a funny sort of choking noise. “That’s my mom,” he says, eyes locked on the mirror. Under the glass, the ocean undulates with the great swells of very deep, open water. “She drowned herself.”

“I thought the spell prevented that?” Ben asks curiously. “The spell was supposed to prevent anyone from dying under the barrier.”

Jay snaps his head up to look at Ben, and if his eyes are a little red, well, nobody else is close enough to notice.

“The spell doesn’t work all the time,” he explains, voice low and even. “You can get around it if you destroy the body. Scatter the remains, or burn them beyond what the spell can handle, or let the sharks deal with you. People who really want that way out usually go with the sharks.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jay lifts a shoulder. “It is what it is. Can’t blame her for taking the only way out.”

“Still.”

Evie’s gasp breaks whatever sympathetic moment might have happened, and her hand shoots out quicker than a snake to grab the mirror as it starts to shift again.

“Oh? Magic mirror, what—“

The picture solidifies before she can finish the command. A beige room, with a man sitting at a desk comes into view.

“Why—“ Mal starts, but Ben is faster, and he leans down over Evie’s shoulder to tip the mirror up for a better view.

“That’s my dad?” Ben says, sounding thoroughly confused by the discovery. “He’s not— he’s just sitting in his office. He’s not on the isle of the lost or anything like that.”

Evie tips the mirror back down towards herself. “Ah, I guess I didn’t specify well enough when I said whose parents we wanted to see. My bad, Ben. You got caught up in the spell too.”

“Are we going to see your mom next?”Mal demands, shoving her head further into Evie’s space to get a clear view of the mirror, which really isn’t large enough to be seen by five people at once, especially not when two of them are sitting on the same chair. “What does she do all day?”

“I….don’t know,” Ben says slowly. “I guess we’ll see. I think she hangs out in the library, mostly. With grandpa, if she doesn’t have state duties to do with my dad.”

The mirror swirls, and the surface turns brilliant, spring green.

“It looks like she’s outside?”

Sure enough, Queen Belle is standing outside, in the center of a ring of trees. There’s a book in her hand, and as she reads, she rocks back and forth slightly, her mouth moving around the shape of words that the mirror can’t play for them. Or possibly won’t. Evie’s been working on control of her powers, but when the spell is board enough to sweep a whole extra person in their attempt to see what their parents are up to, it’s possible that asking the mirror to help them ‘see’ their parents was a bit too literal. Or maybe the mirror can only do auditory assistance when it’s coming from the whole mirror, and not just the broken shard Evie keeps in her palm-sized frame. Maybe some of the magic was lost when her mother ground the shard to size, or maybe the magic is weaker than it should be, and there’s something deeply wrong with the state of magic in Auradon.

Or maybe they’re just not very good at directing spells yet.

Ben slaps his hand on the table. “Oh, that’s the glade above the lake!” he exclaims. “It’s enchanted. No wonder the mirror showed her too.”

Mal frowns. “You have an enchanted glade?”

Ben beams at her. “Yeah! It’s up the trail from the enchanted lake a bit. Kind of by the cliffs up there. It’s really pretty in the fall, when the leaves are all changing. I guess she’s been riding out there sometimes. It’s one of the most magical places in the kingdom.”

“She looks pretty happy,” Evie says thoughtfully. “D’you think that’s why the magic included her?”

“Yeah, guess so.” Ben says, shrugging. “I don’t really understand magic, but I know the glade is supposed to be one of the most magically powerful sites in the kingdom. It’s a nice place to read, I guess?”

“Ben.” Mal says sharply, as the image of Queen Belle turns, book still in hand. “Why is your mother reading a spell book?”

#my fic #descendants fic #rotten ot4 #only it’s actually very heavily implied ot5 because I know what I am about #descendants #mal bertha #evie grimhilde #jay son of jafar #carlos de vil #ben florian

96 notes · View notes

finitevoid · 1 year

Text

Strawberry Split Lip

Descendants | Rotten OT4 | WIP | College/University setting

Jay resumes throwing the hacky-sack, the grainy thump a background rhythm to such a sweltering night on the Isle of the Lost. He says, with wry humor, “Besides. We’re not going to fucking college.”

Mal throws her head back and cackles, as if the mere idea is too hilarious to even contain. Maybe it is; the Isle’s worst Villain Kids, going to some fancy school in the heart of Auradon.

Or:

Ben does not become king at sixteen. Still, one way or another, the innocent leave the Isle. Unfortunately for everyone, nothing is that simple.

Read it here.

#descendants #rotten ot4 #carlos de vil #mal bertha #evie descendants #jay descendants #ben florian #he's here too

99 notes · View notes

shitpostingkats · 1 year

Text

Final Fantasy XV 🤝 Disney Descendants

Media that to this day randomly makes me furious when I remember they do not end in a polyamorous OT4

#if I had a nickel for every time #It is vital to note I have never played or watched FF15 #I'm just right #Literally such polyam coded media #The THEMES the CHEMISTRY #I could write essays about how and why we need to let polyam rep into our stories because the opportunities it brings #to narrative construction #polyamarous #polyamory #disney descendants #descendants #rotten ot4 #core four #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #ffxv #ff15

41 notes · View notes

havocmadden · 2 years

Text

anyway i thought it would be fun to post snippets of unfinished fics so that maybe people bully me into finishing them, so i've picked a few and will be posting one a day for the next week or so? idk. anyway here's an unfinished descendants rotten ot4 piece that's one of my favorite things i've ever written for this fandom imo. tentatively titled ‘looking for someone to help you when you scrape your knees.’ tw for mentioned child abuse, maybe eating disorder, general isle behavior, injury, etc

mal finds carlos stumbling around outside his house with a broken arm. mal thinks if he moves it the wrong way this will end with carlos’s bone protruding from his skin. she shivers. she’s seen some nasty shit in her fourteen years of life, but this? this scares her, and that makes her heart beat quick, like a frightened rabbit. she takes him to the hideout, swallowing her bitter fear and turning it into rage.

it’s evie who asks what needs to be asked. “what happened, ‘los?”

“i fell,” carlos stammers, through the pain. mal and evie are trying to set the bone, and jay’s gone out to find something, anything, to trade to anthony tremaine to get his mom to make something that will hopefully save carlos from infection. mal’s seen people die of infection on the isle, and it’s as though the fever burned them from the inside out. she won’t let that happen to carlos. she won’t.

“bullshit,” mal shoots back. she doesn’t believe that for a second. they all know — they all know that cruella is a bitch, in every sense of the word. sure, evie’s mom pinches her in the sensitive spots that no one will ever see where she claims that evie has ‘yet to lose that horrid baby fat’ and jafar's hit jay before and they all know it'll happen again, and mal’s mom has a tendency to hit mal with her staff and there are times mal has had scratches from her mother’s too-long not human nails clawing lines up her arm, raised and red, but... cruella is worse, somehow.

“was it your mom again?” evie asks softly, while attempting to use a ripped up shirt of jay’s as a sling to keep carlos’s arm in place.

carlos doesn’t say anything, and mal knows that his lack of a response is as much of an answer as they are going to get.

[LINE TO INDICATE SCENE BREAK BC I CAN'T FIGURE OUT HOW TO ADD THOSE ON TUMBLR ANYMORE]

“i'm going to fucking kill her,” mal hisses. she can feel her magic rising up within her, pushing against the barrier, and it feels like ants crawling under her skin. she knows her eyes must be flashing green. jay shrinks back, and a small part of mal relishes in that. even jay is scared of her. ‘you could bring them all to their knees, if you had to,’ her mind whispers. it comforts her to know that.

“you can't,” jay murmurs, quiet so as to not wake carlos, who’s asleep in the other room. anastasia tremaine had given jay a sleeping tonic and something to numb the pain, as well as something to stave off infection. she’d gotten far, far less than she’d given, but if the old bitch wanted to barter the entirety of her wares away, that wasn’t mal’s problem.

“just watch me,” mal hisses. her magic is buzzing under her skin, and, not for the first time, she feels like it’s going to rip through her skin and burst out of her in one big explosion. the emotions in the room are high, and mal can feel the press of evie and jay’s emotions on her own — jay’s gold and evie’s royal blue are muddling her purple. she’s angry, but they’re scared, and mal shoves their emotions back, concentrating on only her own anger, burrowing herself in the safe, deep purple that feels like coming home. “i'm going to fucking kill that bitch.” her voice is deadly calm, like a snake about to strike.

“and if you can't?” jay snaps back. there’s tension in the air like the fishing wire uma uses to mark her borders ready to snap. run too fast, not knowing it’s there, and, well. it’s a mistake you won’t make twice. mal’s struck silent for a moment, and jay plows ahead. “if you can't kill cruella, mal, do you know who dies? carlos. carlos is dead, because if we try to kill her, and we can’t? that’s his fucking death sentence.”

“and if we don't?” mal snaps back, her eyes flashing, her teeth sharp. “nothing gets better for him. cruella might kill him anyway. shit, jay, look at what happened this time. it's a fucking miracle she hasn't killed him already.”

“fine,” jay says, long and low. “tell me you can fucking stand to have his blood on her hands if we try to kill her, and we can’t. tell me you’re okay with that, mal, because i sure as fucking hell am not.” he steps closer to her, whispers in her ear. “malevolence, i swore i would never use your true name without your permission. but believe me when i fucking say that if you do this, i will break that promise. i will make sure you can’t get within an inch of cruella de vil.”

shivers tickle up mal’s spine at the sound of her true name. “you fucking swore, jabran,” she hisses, his name spitting out of her mouth like a curse. “you swore you’d never use that against me. look at you now, you little fucking snake. biting the hand that fucking feeds you.” he wouldn’t. he has to know if he does this mal will turn the entire isle against him. he won't survive a day — no one would. she’ll get her mother to take out a bounty on his head, and mal will make damn well sure that everyone on this fucking rock knows that you don’t cross her.

“do not test me, malevolence,” jay murmurs, dragging her true name out in her mouth like he’s savoring it. “if it’s what i need to do to keep carlos safe, you will find that i very much can. and will.”

“fuck you,” mal spits, and she’s about to keep cursing every aspect of jay she can think of when there’s a soft voice from behind her.

“he’s right, mal,” evie says, and mal spins around, only to see evie, her lips a hard line of determination, her lipstick red as a poison apple and just as deadly. “who's going to protect you?” she asks. “i'd kill cruella if i could, lord fucking knows she deserves that and more, but... i can't. none of us stand a chance against our parents. they're the villains of legend, and we're... we're nothing.”

mal and jay and carlos and evie protect each other. that's how it has always been. mal takes a breath, and she can feel the magic under her skin calming slightly, settling down, like a dragon curling up to sleep. evie’s right, of course. she always is. “you’re right, eves,” she murmurs, and evie smiles softly at mal, her eyes mournful.

mal levels her gaze at jay. “you’re right, too, even if you are a complete fucking asshole,” she mutters, and jay snorts a quiet laugh at that, running a hand through his hair. it's the closest anyone gets to apologising on the isle. apologizing is a sign of weakness, and mal is not weak. “and if anything happens to carlos, you're my backup. understand?”

“of course,” jay responds, with no hesitation. jay might stop mal from harming cruella while she still has a hold on carlos, but if carlos is gone, then all bets are off. if anything happens to carlos, mal knows as sure as she knows her own heartbeat that jay and evie would be by her side, taking vengeance in the form of blood.

[LINE]

mal finds evie crying in an alley in skid row, rummaging through one of the trash piles that the residents have piled up outside their house. her cheeks are gaunt and hollow when she looks up at mal, and mal tries not to recoile from the sight of her. “what happened?” mal asks, gently.

evie takes a shaking, shuddering breath. “i haven't eaten in at least a week. god, mal, i'm so hungry.” the words spill out of evie’s mouth like a flood, and mal bites her lip so hard she tastes blood.

“why haven't you — ” mal stops suddenly, as it hits her. the evil queen must have decided that evie wasn’t losing her baby fat fast enough, and thus must have taken matters into her own hands. there’s a deep, quickening fear pressing in on mal, royal blue, and mal can feel it mixing with her own fear that she knows well, and the two emotions create an awful, sickening indigo shade of panic that settles in the pit of mal’s stomach. “shit, eves. we’ve got to get you to the hideout. i’m sure carlos has some food stashed away he can spare, or i can send jay out to — ”

“no.” evie’s voice is harsh and breaks through mal’s frightened rambling. “if this is what she fucking wants, mal, i’m going to give it to her.” she’s sunk down against the wall now, her back against the bricks, her head in her hands.

“so you’re going to starve yourself to death to spite your mother?” mal laughs a little, hollow and empty. “talk about cutting off your fucking nose to spite your face, evie.”

evie smiles at that, but it’s brittle and empty. “that’s the plan,” she murmurs, a half-grin still on her face.

“well, tough fucking luck,” mal mutters under her breath. she’s made up her mind. if evie wants to starve herself to death, she’s doing it over mal’s dead body. “get up, evie. i’m not letting you fucking starve yourself to death.”

“why can’t you just leave me alone,” evie hisses, her face twisting into something hideous, and for the first time, mal can see the witch that queen grimhilde turned herself into reflected across evie’s features. “what does it fucking matter to you, anyway?”

“because i’m not fucking losing you, evie,” mal says, her tone harsh, and evie blinks. there’s a kind of shock registering across her face, and mal bites her lip. “i’m just not, okay?” she won't lose evie. just like she won't lose carlos or jay. she won’t.

there are no friends on the isle, but there is something deeper — family. but not just the family who shares your blood. the kids on the isle know better than anyone else that sharing blood doesn't make you'd lay down your life for them. and mal knows, suddenly, in her heart, that she'd lay down her life for evie. or carlos. or jay. in a heartbeat. if it was her life or theirs? theirs. it’s a selfish move on her part, because mal knows she can’t live without them. it’s half a death wish and half a sacrifice.

there's a deep blue pressing in on mal, but it's not the breathless fear she felt from evie moments ago, but something different. the blue settles over her, almost like the calm blue of the ocean outside the barrier that mal's never touched. this feeling, too, mal can't quite identify — it settles a bit in her chest like comfort but drifts to her throat like mania before resting itself, lightly, in the palms of her hands, warm and sturdy.

“mal?” evie murmurs, her voice soft. “will you take me home?”

home. it's a word mal's never heard used on the isle before. mal steps in, scoops evie up — she's nearly as light as mal is, and mal knows she weighs about half as much as she would if she were a full human, and the thought of how little evie's had to eat the past few days sends a sharp pang through mal's heart.

“sure, evil. want me to get you up to your room, or drop you off with your mom?”

evie shakes her head, her face buried in mal's neck. “not with my mom. not harlot square,” she murmurs, and mal can feel evie's warm breath on her neck. she shivers. “the hideout.”

[LINE]

“shit. shit. fuck. shit.” mal's not really thinking about what she's half-muttering through panting breaths, only that if she doesn't get to the hideout before hades’s dogs catch up with her she's going to have a lot more than a stab wound in her leg to contend with.

harry had caught her on uma's territory, and ever since her and uma had gotten into that fight months ago about a stolen shipment from the barges, uma had made it very, very clear that mal was no longer welcome anywhere near her. which, mal would like to point out, is entirely unfair, because she wasn't the one who stole it, and uma knows she can't lie. but she digresses. what's done is done.

she'd been on uma's territory — she'd needed a good look at what had come in on the barges — and she'd run almost directly into harry hook. everyone on the isle knows that harry’s practically begging for a fight at literally any time, and combine that with uma's hatred of mal, and well. it would have been an understatement to say that he'd been particularly eager.

he'd left her with a nasty stab wound in her leg. mal had left him with some nasty scratches in his face, so it wasn't as though he'd gotten out entirely unscathed. but still, he wasn't the one trying to haul ass before hades' dogs hunted him down. he was probably safe and sound in the one of the run down shops king beast had had constructed on the isle in the hopes that the villains would find themselves presented with capitalism and reform. so far, mal notes, this had done exactly jack shit, aside from giving the villains homes — generally, the villains tend to stick close to the shop in their name, hades being an exception. some of them even do have a kind of business going through these shops, but it's never the kind king beast intended. the queen of hearts runs a casino. lady tremaine runs a brothel. dr. facilier runs a black market for magical items that have made their way through the barrier.

“mal!” there's a shout from above her, and she looks up to see jay, running along the rooftops beside her. “are you bleeding?”

“what's it look like, dumbass?” mal snaps, in between breaths. hades’s dogs are catching up to her, and she can hear their howls. she'd always thought that the legends that they ate kids who didn't behave were bullshit that cruella kept spouting off to carlos until the dogs had caught some poor soul when she was ten. they'd torn him apart so badly that they couldn't even identify the body. she remembers the iron smell of the blood that lingered in the air. she remembers that the tang of iron that lingered in the air had made her cough up sickly-green blood for a week.

mal feels someone grab her and purple fear swells in her chest and threatens to swallow her whole. “wait! who are you? let me go!” mal snaps instinctively, trying to squirm away, before she realizes that it's just jay.

“thought you needed a little help, tanin,” he murmurs in her ear, his voice lilting into a slight purr as his nickname for her comes out of his mouth, and mal feels something unfamiliar curling like smoke in the pit of her stomach.

“yeah, yeah, don't brag about it already,” mal mutters, false annoyance in her tone. she has to admit, he's a lot faster than she was even while carrying her. the deep red, too, of jay’s worry is pressing in on her, but there’s something else there too, something bigger, something that presses down through mal’s chest where comfort rests and burrows underneath her ribcage, curling up like a cat. it feels comforting. it feels like home.

[LINE]

the first thing that mal notices in auradon is that jay has no shadow.

the second thing mal notices is that it’s as though a weight’s been lifted off her, and her magic grows under her skin, practically itching at her as it feels itself free from the anti-magic barrier for the first time. she longs to try it, but she knows she can’t. not here, not now. not in front of all these people.

the third thing mal notices is the overwhelming press of emotions all around her. the fear emanating from fairy godmother and her cohorts makes mal’s heart beat fast, and she has to resist the urge to pull the knife from her boot and keep everyone at arm’s length. she settles for wrapping her arms around her torso — a makeshift armor of her own flesh. the continual press of emotions that aren’t hers makes her weak, and makes her head ache as though she’s been drugged.

on her first night in auradon, mal sleeps like she's dead.

#jay's nickname for mal means dragon in arabic. not sure if that's the correct transliteration. it's pronounced tan-neen #also this is a rework of one of my og descendants fics from 2016 #disney descendants #rotten ot4 #idk what to tag this since i might delete it soon but.

14 notes · View notes

carvie-in-my-head · 2 years

Text

If anyone has any carvie (romantic or not) headcanons and wants to share them with me... I’m open to that <3

It’s kinda empty rn in carvie corner so feel free to look into my ask box!

Peace!

#rotten ot4 with main carvie is also important to me!!!#carvie #Carlos De Vil #evie grimhilde #evie x carlos #evie daughter of the evil queen #descendants #rotten four #rotten ot4

9 notes · View notes

daggery · 1 month

Text

i fixed the gifs in this gifset and then made one of them worse oh no

#static.mp3 #might scrap it and choose an easier scene #i don't know why i was doing that #i want to start making more gifsets especially ones with more creative formats or concepts instead of just coloring #i have lots of ideas but i need to sit down and actually plan this stuff out #i want to make more sets like the ones i made for the gift exchangess #also just more of those 8 gif 2 col sets #and halloween set idea #and this cute rotten ot4 set idea that i had for a loong time :( but it requires minor brainpower #other r4 set #uma set #umal set #ugh #if today's motivation dies out by the time i wake up tomorrow Sorry #going to finish fixing this old old evie set and then i will fix the old old old umalvie set and then i will start something new #holding myself accountable i will do this over the next couple weeks #[2am sitting sleepily on my bed] let's go let's go my laptop is on fire

1 note · View note

itsalwaysforyou · 1 year

Text

#obviously we know what mine is so i will not vote <3 #i look forward to the results tho :D #descendants

42 notes · View notes

polypromptsmybeloved · 1 year

Note

Ot4 jako rodzic?

I could be completely wrong (and apologies in advance if I am) but google translated that to be Ot4 as parents.

Person A, B, C, and D are parents. They each have different names when they care called. (Ex. Mama, mom, mommy. Dad, papa, daddy. Zaza, renny, nibi)

Person A likes to show of their childen like its their most prize possesion (bc they are). They enjoy spoiling them rotten with treats, toys and attention.

When ever their children gets into trouble/is in trouble at school you can see four angry parents storming in. It scares the principle, and they have a reputation of getting their children out of trouble.

Person B has a hard time waking up early in the morning, but they still manage to wake up to bring their children to school.

When ever one of them take their children out it confuses everyone around them because they don't know that their a polyamory family. There has been a time when someone thought that C was kiddnapping them because they (the children) are mostly out with A, B or D. That lead to an awkward conversation with the police.

Person C is the cook in the house, and they enjoy making meals for their children and their partners. Sometimes, when they are home alone with their child they make sweets with them and eat them together without their partners.

The children like to brag about how they have four amazing, sweet, and caring parents. It makes the other children cry because they only have two. Person D didn't have the best childhood, so they made sure to try and provide the best that they could for their children

#asks!#please send requests!#first it was for an ot3 #now and ot4 #i expect a ot5 request for parent prompts :gun: /j #yes i just stole the one i made before and added to it #im lazy ok leave me alone #polyamourous prompts #polyamory prompts #poly prompts #ot4 #ot4 prompts #imagine your ot4 #writing prompts #parent prompts

68 notes · View notes

sparrowmoth · 1 year

Note

hi there! i know you're not much of a descendants blog right now, but i was wondering if you could recommend me some fics that look into the magic on the isle? specifically the barrier and not being able to die on the isle - i remember reading some really cool fics about that a while ago, but haven't been able to find them since. no worries if you don't want to answer this, and thanks!

Hi Anon! No worries at all, I'm never not going to be a Descendants blog, so you're always welcome to ask me about stuff like this! <3 And indeed, I'm sure I can think of some fics to rec you! Been a while since I read a couple of the ones that come to mind, though, so let me do some digging through my AO3 bookmarks...

Strawberry Split Lip (Rotten OT4)

till death do us part (Jaylos)

Maybe together we can get somewhere (Jaylos)

Redemption (Multi-ship)*

*This one's incomplete at 31 chaps and hasn't been updated in 2+ years, so fair warning. It's been a long time since I read it and I can't really remember much except that dragon!Mal rescues Carlos at one point, which I thought was fun as hell, so I'mma rec it 'cause the plot has to do with the barrier (not "no death" though, I don't think).

And finally, there's the two I've written myself, which are...

Written in the Scars (Marlos-centric, Rotten OT4)

Red Days, Blue Nights (Carvie)

Hmmm, I'm sure there's more fics out there about this stuff, but the way people tag for it is pretty inconsistent so I might be forgetting some things. Descendants fam, did I miss any fics? If y'all have recs for Anon, please feel free to reblog or comment with links! <3

#anonymous #<3 #descendants #descendants fanfiction #descendants fandom #fic recs #jaylos #rotten OT4 #I hope that helps Anon! <3 #the ask box

33 notes · View notes

lsleofthelost · 2 months

Text

eye contact

#descendants #jay #mal #mal daughter of maleficent #jay son of jafar #jal #art #mine*#tumblr eats quality so i tried adding close ups of their faces idk if it works tho lol #aghhh they just make me so so crazy and so so tender #i think im too tired for words rn but just know that. they give me serotonin but also psychic damage #i have remembered that post about how we were robbed of jay in a ponytail and made the executive decision to fix that #on the rotten four details side though. i tried to incorporate evie and carlos through jewellery #there is evie’s hair tie and her apple charm #and carlos’s signet ring and spiked choker #because to me the ot4 is marked with a big Do Not Separate

65 notes · View notes

thebluestbluewords · 1 year

Text

Polyshipweek 2023 Day 1: Road Trip

Rotten ot4, ~1800 words of pure silliness. No warnings for this section.

"I've solved our summer problem," Evie announces breathlessly, hair bouncing over her shoulders in perfectly curled ringlets as she jogs up to their usual outdoor lunch table. She’s wearing a pastel blue tennis skirt, an unexpected blessing for Mal’s wicked eyes, borne from the spring heat wave the rest of them are suffering through in their usual leather. The news outlets are saying that it’s the hottest spring Auradon has had in years, but the actual heat only hit two days ago, and Evie’s been too busy with school and her secret project to make the rest of them anything lighter than their usual. Mal’s been sweating through her jeans, but she cut the sleeves off her jacket yesterday, so that’s been helping. "I got us housing, and it's in our names, and we're going to have the best summer ever."

Evie beams at them all, still pink-cheeked and breathless from running across the lawn.

"Evie.” Mal says flatly.

Evie beams at her directly, flipping her curls over her shoulder as she turns, a bit more dramatically than a turn of ten degrees warrants. "Yes, babe?”

Mal wants to lick the glorious expanse of leg that Evie’s skirt shows off, but they’ve got more pressing concerns than that right now. "What did you do?"

Evie’s practically bouncing in place. Oh gods. Whatever she’s done is either going to be the best thing in the world, and they’ll all have to tell her that she’s right and they were wrong to spend the whole week moping about the heat instead of helping and she truly is a genius, or else they’re about to have a really, really bad time.

"I bought us a camper,” Evie exclaims, and oh, she’s still bursting with joy about the whole thing. “It's only twenty-five feet long, and it's got an absolutely terrible truck that came with it, but it’s big enough for four people to sit together in the front as long as one of them is small, and two of us have tiny little legs, so we don't have to split anyone out to drive if we don’t want to, and I got it on sale from a friend of a friend so it was super cheap, and it's going to be the greatest thing ever!”

"Great. You bought us....a tiny house."

"A tiny mobile house," Evie corrects, still beaming. "And it's going to be either the best or the worst thing that's ever happened to us and I haven't decided which yet. But it's probably the best."

Mal gestures at the boys, who are just as sweaty and disgusting as she is right now. "You want all of us contained in a twenty foot box for the entire summer?"

"Ye-es," Evie says slowly, with a somewhat pained expression, like she's only just thinking through the size constraints she's put on them. And how those constraints might play out with three people who are currently sweating through their clothes. "But it'll be fine. It has storage space for at least six of those big plastic storage bins, and if we keep all of your clothes here at school, babe, and each of the boys only wears two outfits, I can condense my stuff down to the other five."

“Can I bring my laptop?” Carlos asks. His head is still on the table. Despite wearing exclusively shorts for the first fifteen years of his life, or possibly because of it, he’s been handling the heat the worst out of the four of them. “If I can fit my laptop and like, enough dog treats to bribe whatever animals we find on the way, I’m in.”

Evie tilts her head to the side, which sends her hair tumbling off her neck again. Mal could bite the smooth, warm expanse of it. She could leave so many delicious red marks, so that everyone knows that Evie is hers, and she has the most brilliant girlfriend in the world, who does brilliant things like acquire them a place to stay for the summer that’s not on campus.

The fact that Evie didn’t think about space is a minor concern. Mal’s small. She can compress her stuff to be small too.

“You can bring all the computer pieces you want,” Evie declares, apparently deciding that this is not the battle she wants to fight right now. “So long as they can fit into a three-by-two storage bin, okay?”

“Okay,” Carlos agrees, apparently too worn out to argue. “Sure. I’m in.”

Jay raises a hand, which is hysterical and also makes something uncomfortable twist up in Mal’s chest. This time last year they were throwing bricks at the pirate kids, and now they’re the sort of people who apparently own a camper, and go to a prep school, and can afford to raise their hand instead of just screaming at each other to be heard. “Who’s going to drive?”

Evie leans forward over the table, which conveniently puts her chest at eye level for those sitting down. It’s definitely intentional, because this is what Evie and Jay do for fun when they’re together. Neither of them is strictly into each other, due to the whole being gay thing, but they’ve got an exception for each other. Or possibly they just like confusing the Auradon kids, but Mal can get behind it either way.

“Weeee-ll,” Evie says slowly, drawing out the word like it’s a piece of gum she’s stretching out. She’s leaning all the way down now, and the tiny gold necklace she’s wearing is hanging loose over the table, swinging in a way that’s almost more mesmerizing than her tits. “I heard there’s this really cool guy who got an actual legal driver’s license recently, and I was hoping maybe if I asked really nicely, he’d be willing to drive for me.”

Jay hooks a finger in the necklace. “Nicely, huh?”

“Aren’t I being nice?” Evie asks sweetly, batting her eyes and doing something complicated and graceful with her legs that looks uncomfortable from Mal’s angle, but ends up with her sitting on the table, still leaned up close to Jay. “I could offer you something in exchange, maybe?”

“What would that be, princess?” Jay asks, and oh, with the way he’s keeping his voice low and rough, there’s got to be some Auradon kids watching the show.

“Maybe….a kiss?” Evie offers, still syrupy-sweet and over the top flirty. “Or I guess I could give you access to the credit card I got from this prince who wants us safely out of his way for the summer, but I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested in something like that?”

Jay pulls back. “Who gave you a credit card?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” Evie says brightly. “Unfortunately that is a trade secret, and even more unfortunately, it’s connected to my bank account, so it’s not actually as useful as I implied. You can still drive the car though, and because my mother’s accounts didn’t actually go into kingdom funds when she got sent to the Isle, I do have a bit of inheritance that I’ve taken out of my investments for this.”

Jay blinks. “You have investments?”

“Yes,” Evie says, leaning back as well. It’s a tragic loss, because the new position puts her above the rest of them, and Mal can’t stare at her without being blinded by the sun. “I’ve had them since we set up the accounting for my business, which was well before winter formal season. So it’s been a white now and they’re doing quite well, thanks for asking.”

“Doug drove you to the bank to get a card set up?”

Evie pouts. “It’s not very fun when you put it that way, babe.”

Jay grins up at her, eyes bright and mouth quirked into the uneven smile he does when he’s trying to look charming. “Oh, I’m sorry princess, let me just–” he pulls her in close again, hooking one hand around the back of her waist, and the other tangled in the chain of her necklace. “I would be honored,” he whispers into the skin of her neck. “To drive you wherever you need to go.”

“Through treacherous terrain and up mountains fair?” Evie says softly. “From golden beach to shining sea?”

“I’ve always wanted to see a mountain,” Jay agrees, resting his head on her shoulder for a moment before pulling back and adding, much more normally. “And beaches would be cool. I assume we’re taking the royal family of Arendelle up on their generous offer to let you magical types come up for their summer training camp?”

“Indeed,” Evie nods, “It would be awfully rude to reject an offer from the royal family, after all, and when I asked around, everyone said that summer road trips are an Auradon tradition and it would only be right for us to go on one before we have to get serious about school next semester.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Mal groans.

“SATs, college visits,” Carlos chants. “Finals, calculators, GPA.”

Fucker. He’s not even graduating next year, a fun little quirk of the Auradon grade system being tied to age instead of academic ability.

“I can and will crush you into the dirt.” Mal says casually. She’s got to be casual about her threats now, because if she says anything that sounds truly threatening in front of Audrey and her squad of princesses who care more about their royal status than their actual friendships, she’ll be slapped with consequences for ‘breaking the school code of conduct’ and ‘threatening a fellow student’ faster than you can say bibity bobbity boo. “Try it again and I’ll punch you so hard you’ll wish you were more than just one grade behind me.”

Unfortunately, Carlos treats threats as a sort of love language.

“Aww, is the wicked fairy scared of some little tests?” he croons, eyes sparking even though he’s still flopped out across the table. “Don’t wanna take one exam that’s gonna determine your entire future for the next five years?”

Even Evie shudders at that one.

“Don’t,” she says firmly. “I’m going to send you reminders of this every day next year, when it’s your turn. And you’re going to deserve it.”

Carlos sits up at that. “You wouldn’t.”

Evie spins around to face him. “I would, baby. You don’t get to say anything until you’re the one in that exam room, and I don’t care if you never get nervous about tests, because I have never been nervous for a test before this year, and I’ve been waking up with stress dreams for the past three weeks, and not just because I spend half of my life’s savings so far on a truly terrible camper for us to use on the most ill-advised road trip this school has ever seen.”

“I think the road trip is great idea.” Mal interrupts. “The queen of Arendelle was super nice to offer us a place in her summer magic training camp, and like, what else are we doing for the rest of the summer?”

“Picking a god and praying,” Evie says grimly. “That this camper won’t fall apart under us halfway to the mountains.”

#my fic #descendants #polyshipweek 2023 #mal bertha #evie grimhilde #jay son of jafar #carlos de vil #rotten ot4 #my beloveds it feels so good to try and get back into the groove of writing for them #this is unedited as of right now and I'm sure I'll see all the typos as soon as I hit post lmao #but!!! I made it in time for day one!!#polyshipweek23 #is the correct tag lmao

29 notes · View notes

finitevoid · 1 year

Note

these prompts are so fucking funny and I absolutely MUST know your answers to the following for any of the Core Four (or if another character speaks to you, go for it)....... 13, 16, 22, 24, 29, 34 and 38

@sparrowmoth THANK YOU SPARROW <33 THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN. i threw some twst in the mix for spice, but its mostly various combos of the rotten ot4. i, uh. wrote a bunch of little drabbles. bon apetit

13. Who would smoke weed in a confessionary?

"I mean, does she have a rule against it?" Ruggie asks, wiggling his fingers. His hair is mussed-- artfully, though Riddle is loathe to admit it-- and his clothes are rumpled. Likely from the manhandling Riddle gave him as he dragged him outside by the wrist a few minutes ago. Ruggie's chin is balanced on his palm, elbow leaning on his bent knees, looking for all purposes like the patron saint of not-giving-a-damn.

"Well--" Riddle puffs his chest out, before deflating in defeat. "No. Not that specifically. But--! You got thrown out of a church!"

Ruggie tips his face towards the sky, squinting in thought. His legs are splayed over the church steps, and the stained glass behind him is bathing him all kinds of colors. It's beautiful; it makes him understand the artists of yore, trying to capture their muse. Riddle hates it with a passion.

"Worth it."

"You are such a bad influence!" Riddle cries. "I mean-- drugs! Illicit substances! In a place of worship!"

"I'm s'possed to confess my crimes, right? What better way than by showin' him exactly what I've been doing?"

Riddle shoves at his shoulder. "You're the worst!"

"Yeah, but Queenie," he sways into Riddle's space, filling the air in front of Riddle's face with warmth, with the smell of him. "Which one of us is out here with me?"

Riddle smacks the back of his head. Ruggie just laughs.

16. Who would be best at drag?

Jay poses dramatically in the mirror, the eyeliner and glitter covering his eyes anything but tasteful. He buries a hand in his hair, fluffing the ends up, pursing his lips in a mockery of coyness.

Behind him, Mal cackles like a hyena. Evie is surveying her work with a critical eye, sweeping him over. Stepping closer to him, she grips him by the straps of his remarkably stupidly short dress. When he's standing still enough for her tastes, she sweeps a necklace from her pocket, glittering silver.

It's cold around his neck. He turns to survey himself again, eyeing the way it brings out the warm tones in his skin. "Oh, yeah," he says, cocking a hip. "I look hot!"

Mal buries her face in her pillow to muffle the hysterical screams of mirth she's giving out. But what does she know, anyway?

22. Who lets the intrusive thoughts win constantly?

Evie eyes herself critically in the pitifully small screen of her phone. She has the camera on, pointed at herself, squinting past pixels and smudges to get a good look at her appearance. She curses herself for forgetting her compact; she's in the trenches at this very fancy, very Auradon party without it.

Well, she needs to reapply her lipstick, that much is obvious. And she should probably excuse herself to the little girl's room to re-do her hair. It's starting to look a little... frizzy. And oh, God, is that a pimple--?!

Carlos shouts, with the kind of rage that levels happy little kingdoms like Auradon, "Oh my God, you did not just drop your fucking pickle into my drink!"

Mal laces her hands behind her head, smirking in self-satisfaction. "Well, you said you didn't want to eat it."

"I don't want to drink it either, you little shit--"

"I can always feed it to you like a baby bird?"

Carlos stands, grabs his water glass, and dumps it over Mal's head. She gasps, her perfectly curled and style hair plastered to her skin. Her eyes are flaring, but she's stifling laughter, even as she launches herself over the table with a shout of, "De Vil--!"

Evie sighs into her hands. Well, at least she's not worried about how she looks, anymore.

24. Who goes to a haunted place only to start yelling at the ghosts to try to challenge them?

"Come on out, little ghosties!" Mal shouts. Jay presses a palm over her mouth, trying and failing to quiet her. She merely grips his palm and yanks it away from her face. "The big, mean, evil faerie is here! Come and get me! I'm not scared of you! My mom's the mistress of all evil, bitches! You're nothing!"

"Big?" Jay asks, raising an eyebrow.

Mal whirls on him, jabbing a finger to his chest. "Say that again, and I'll turn you into a ghost."

He holds up his hands in surrender, but his grin gives up the game. "Girl, you like me way too much for that."

"Girl?"

"What, you want me to call you pet names in front of the ghosties? What would you prefer? Baby? Sweetheart?" He slowly wraps his arms around her middle, nosing against her cheek as she hisses putridly at him. "Honey-bunches? Schnookums?"

She guffaws, shoving his face away with her hand. "You're gonna wish you were a ghost by the time I'm done with you, asshole!" She squirms, but he holds steady. When a ghost-- an actor in a morphsuit, as far as he can tell-- jerks out at them, she jumps about a foot in the air with a two-toned, piercing shriek.

She calms, cheeks blazing pink as she stares at the actor in embarrassment. As if it's, like, cringe of her to fall for the whole game of a haunted house?

"Come on, miss evil-faeirie, let's not get thrown out of the haunted house, yeah?"

She snarls at him again, but holds his hand all the way to the end.

29. Who gets arrested the quickest?

Worth it, Evie mouths. She's visible through the window of the cop car, cheek spattered with a splash of dark blood. She looks utterly at home, sighing in lazy contentment. Then, with a start, she sits up, opening the door.

"Puppy? Take my bag, will you?" She says, handing him her blue, sequined purse. He takes it, nearly pitching forward from the sheer unexpected weight. He let's out a loud, annoyed groan, hefting it up. It clinks audibly.

"How many knives?"

"In there? Oh, honey, too many to count."

The cop comes around the corner, slamming the door shut. Evie laughs into her palm, eyes little half-moon circles of mirth. He says, "I don't want to see you again, Grimhilde."

Sickly sweet, Evie drawls, "Of course not, officer."

34. Who’s been accused of murder?

The lunch table goes deathly quiet. Jay meets Evie's eyes first, then Carlos', then Mal's. As one, they turn to face Chad Charming. He's holding his lunch tray defiantly, sticking his chin out with an arrogant swagger.

"Dude. You realize nobody can die on the Isle, right?"

Chad balks at them. "Really? Oh, thank God. So you haven't killed anyone! I was starting to get worried."

"What?" Evie says. "Worried?"

Mal says, "Do you really think a bunch of Villain Kid's wouldn't take advantage of the fact that corpses don't last?"

Chad's starting to go chalky white.

Evie balances her chin on her hand, sighing wistfully. "I miss being able to get kill the creepy men. It was cathartic, you know?"

"One time I threw Harry into the sea," Carlos adds, tapping away at his phone.

Chad's eyes are shuttered with open fear. Swallowing visibly, he manages, "But not you, Jay?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Why do you think Carlos threw Harry into the sea?"

38. Who accidentally ate 400mg worth of edibles?

"I'm fine," Carlos slurs, sinking into the couch. It's a considerable feat, considering that, before, he'd been sunk so far into it that you could barely see him. He's dressed in one of Jay's sweatshirts, hood pulled up over his head and drawstring tight. His cheeks are flushed and his pupils are blown wide, and he keeps blinking, slowly, and then startling up.

"Yeah, I'm gonna be honest, you really don't seem fine." Mal replies. "Why does it smell like weed? Is that why you're like this?"

"Did you know," Carlos says sharply, with the kind of abrupt cadence of someone deeply inconvenienced, "that cannabis can be cooked into baked goods?"

"Uh oh, you're being a smartass." She presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and he whines. "Very ominous. Never a good sign."

"Shut the fuck up," he mutters, yanking the nearest blanket over his head.

Mal leans over the back of the couch, pitching herself forward. The couch digs into her stomach, her feet hovering off the ground as her face lands in the mess of blankets and pillows on the couch. It's almost nestlike, honestly. She pulls herself up onto her elbows, legs dangling free.

"Did the puppy eat too many pot brownies?" She cooes, reaching out to tap condescendingly at where she thinks his cheek is. He snarls wordlessly. She snorts. "Stay here. I'll get your dumbass some water and food. It'll sober you up."

As she turns toward the kitchen, so weakly she can barely hear it, there's a soft hiss of, "Thanks."

#i think sometimes i need to get just contextless banter and shenanigans out of my system so they dont bleed into my melodramatic novels #so thank you for this #descendants #twisted wonderland #riddleruggie #rotten ot4 #carvie #marlos #jal #jayvie #my writing*

39 notes · View notes

elirandom · 6 months

Text

Rules: List 8 tv shows for your followers to get to know you!

1. A selection of movies I rewatched so many times I wore out the VHS tapes. The Terminator 1984 (when T2 came Linda Hamilton blew me away), Platoon 1986, Aliens 1986 & Die Hard 1988. It's a lot of bonding strangers to survive, h/c, antiheroes or plain charismatic bad guys, hypothermia or fever, there was only one bed and bantering. The original wet rat blorbos. Also if it's not bloody obvious I had such crushes on Bruce Willis ,Tom Berenger and Michael Biehn, I watched so many bad 80s-90s movies because of them.

2. Wait a minute, TV shows, not MOVIES. My bad, I'm keeping nr 1 as is anyway. Hmm, I always list Hannibal or Buffy tVS/Angel tS whenever I do this so I'm gonna try to list something else that's major loves. So, Miami Vice 1984-1989. Baby me had such a crush on Don Johnson you could see it from space. Adult me gets it, bought the box & rewatches it from time to time, incl writing fic but never anything going somewhere.

3. The Expanse. It's probably a very obvious choice if you ever looked around my corner of Tumblr but I want more people to post about it so. Amos (my favorite pansexual murderbear), Holden (who gave me the Captaincy? Holy shit. How can I fix everything while also being stubborn and chaotic) Naomi (I live with my choices every day but I've got a new life here to do something with & I'll defend it with everything). OT3. Sometimes I want something of poly where Naomi & Drummer (dragon in the shape of a woman, a hoarding underdog with so much fight in her belly) gets to be happy too. But that's just to name a few, it's not often I'm so very invested in so many characters in a show but they all have arcs and space to exist. Unfortunately one of the mains isn't clicking with me at all so the first season took me a while to find all the gold.

4. 9-1-1; besides the love I have for the firefam I'm completely sucked into the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one. And the sunshine one is a golden retriever who's loyal to a fault and just needs food and love. While the grumpy one finds that letting the sunshine in makes life a helluva lot easier even if both of them almost dies a lot.

5. Hawaii 5-0. Talking about grumpy and sunshine. These two fit the bill too, they just can't decide who's who depending on the day and the drama. Danny's usually the negative one always predicting chaos. But Steve tends to be tortured or have shitty family secrets so his sunshine isn't that shiny all the time. But they're brilliant at bickering about everything which kinda gets them even. Instead they're great at hugs and saying I love you. I despise several plotlines but I can't quit them (I couldn't find a gif that includes Danny saying "Stop looking at me like that" in this scene but alas)

6. Stargate Atlantis, my first team turned into family, and my one and only OT4. McShep was my biggest fave, but i enjoyed team!fic just as much as OT4 fic. Reluctant leader with slinky hips and no self-preservation, paired with a smartass with a big mouth who always came through, a smarter woman who didn't get to kick people in the balls enough and stoic warrior who actually was the puzzle piece missing and more than meets the eye. They're a comfort fandom.

7. Due South. A weird cute soft series I didn't know had a fandom until after it was finished in early 2000s. And then I fell into fic (I never got to see the Ray wars up close luckily) and read so much by Speranza among many more. I've rewatched it a few times, esp if I'm home sick it's a comfort show.

I ran out of allowed gifs😭. Well, fuck.

8. Criminal Minds. I've rewatched this show many times because it's something about catching the bad guys and solving the case all neatly tied up. Another show I love but is even sadder and more horrible is Oz because happy ends doesn't exist because humanity is rotten and we pay for our choices. But it's so good I sometimes wanna rewatch it, I bought the DVD box. But then I remember how much I cried at certain eps, like the brothers and I don't. But sometimes it's good to cry over fictional characters.

#elirandom #fandom

2 notes · View notes