Warnings: There will be mentions of blood, but because of the guidelines on the Descendants Amino (which is where this was originally posted) I can not go as deep into the gore and gross as I really want so we'll see where it goes. This stay was originally voted to be Janelos, than Jaylos and now I decided I'm just gonna pair the core four together(?). Honestly tags will change and morph until this story is done so just try and bear with me. I hope you enjoy.
Once upon a time, there was a land of fairytales and magical creatures and hope but this land was filled with villains who were rotten to the core. These villains would stop at nothing to ruin the happiness of those goody-two-shoe Princesses and their perfect-smile Princes. For a long while, these cruel beasts were free to roam and be as wicked as they pleased. That is until a shapeshifter had decided enough was enough. This shapeshifter shifted his body into the largest creature he could, a kingly golden dragon, and snatched up the villains one by one with his gigantic talons before depositing them off on a cursed Island. The villains were transfered quickly and before they could use their own powers to escape the most powerful magic wielder in the land had sealed them on that Isle with a dome. This dome would stand for years to come, keeping all magic and Internet signal off that cursed land.
The people of the magical land rejoiced and decided this shapeshifter should manage their terrain and it was then the shapeshifter had been made King. He had declared his new kingdom the United States of Auradon and forbid the act of evil; his name was Adam Beast, but this was only the beginning of our story.
~~~(The Isle of the Lost)~~~
12 Years Later
The Isle of the Lost was a disgusting decrepit land filled with the beasts that were rumored to hide under the bed. Each home and building was either built half-heartedly with wobbly sheet metal or rotting wood, but they managed here. They were predators; survivors- they could make it in this terrible place. Some even preferred it to the posh way the royals lived. Some disagreed.
Cruella De Vil was human, yet she had managed to be just as cruel as the monsters she was now surrounded by. Cruella used to rule an entire fashion empire, now she was living in the torn down remains of her home; Hell Hall. Her sanity was long gone, and her mad frustrations were taken out on her small son.
"Carlos!" The woman screeched like a banshee, her voice echoing throughout every hall of the old mansion. It took only moments for a boy with white and black hair to scramble out of a room that could only be assumed to be his.
"Yes mother?" He asked meekly, voice high and chocolately brown eyes trained firmly on the floor. Carlos appeared to be only six, but in reality he was eight years old. He had always been small. A lot of the Isle's residents joking that it was because he had been neglected when he was a baby.
"Go out into town," Cruella commanded, not even sending a glance his way and waving a gloved hand carelessly towards the general direction of the front door. "Get more food for the pantries." Her fingers moved to scratched the head of her stuffed dalmatian toy, and she cooed at the dog asking it who was a good boy.
Carlos left quickly and quietly. He was used to his mother demanding things of him as it was all she ever did, but he hated going into town. He was easy to pick on and the bar was on the way to the Bazaar, and the Gaston twins were always at the bar with their drunken father. He walked down the stone pathways, avoiding the larger cracks that could easily consume one of his feet.
When the bar came into view Carlos shrunk in on himself and pulled his fur-lined hood over his head to hide his bright hair. He wished his curls were black with white roots instead of the other way around, it would've made his life so much easier. Made him harder to find in a crowd.
He found it best not to dwell on what could've been though, so rather than lose himself in thought he shoved his pale freckled hands into the pockets of his dalmatian patterned leather jacket and quickened his pace hoping that for once he wouldn't be spotted.
It didn't take long for his hopes to be shattered.
Carlos had almost made it past the bar and relief had already been filtering in his brain before a hand grabbed his hood and yanked, tugging it off of his head and slightly choking him as he too was pulled back by the force. "Well, well, well," The familiar voice of Gaston Junior drawled mockingly. "The runt was trying to hide from us today."
"Is that so?" Carlos had to tense against the instinctive flinch that came with the sound of Gaston the Third's voice as it joined the conversation. "That's very rude of you." It was then Carlos had the courage to glance up at the black haired twins.
Gaston the Third was smiling down at Carlos almost like he was an old friend while Gaston Junior was clenching his fist at his side, preparing to throw the first punch.
Carlos' mind was screamed at him to move, to twist out of the loose grip Gaston Junior on his hood and run like he had never ran before. But he didn't. He never moved, he always just stayed and waited for the impending beating. He was used to the punches and the rude comments, he was used to being put down because that was just his life.
Gaston Junior's face broke into a smile when Carlos did nothing, and without hesitation he pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into Carlos' stomach reveling in the grunt of pain Carlos couldn't hold back. He pulled his arm back again, and again, and again until Carlos decided that enough was enough.
The youngest De Vil could already feel where bruises would form and as both Gastons had their arms pulled back to throw another punch Carlos twisted. Immediately his hood slipped out of the loose grip Gaston Junior had on it and Carlos took the shock on the twins' faces as an indication now was the time to run.
For once he did.
Carlos ducked under Gaston the Third's arm and ran, he bolted past a few unsuspecting villains and took a couple shortcuts through sketchy alleyways before he reached his desired destination; the Bazaar.
He slowed his speed and walked into the busy markets, secretly tucking stolen food items into the many hidden pockets on his jacket. He hoped that Cruella wouldn't deem the molding breads and bruised fruits too rotten for her taste and send him back out to town, he wouldn't have time to finish his long list of chores if he did. That's when his mother would get truly angry at him.
The entire time Carlos weaved between moving bodies he kept his head down, making eye contact with certain people would lead to more bruises and gashes than was worth it. Carlos found it best to be better safe than sorry.
It was only mid-day on the Isle, but the weather remained throughout all hours of the day stormy and gray. Most days Carlos was surprised it didn't rain, when it did he was sent out to the market anyway despite the fact his mother knew he was afraid of thunder. When he would jump at the loud claps of thunder, his mother would remark about how useless he was and send him outside into the rain.
He was broken from his thoughts when a shoulder rammed into his sending him falling back onto the stone floor. A rough hiss echoed above him and Carlos looked up with startled eyes.
A blue haired princess stared down at him with glowing red eyes and Carlos subtly recoiled, but upon seeing the scared younger boy the princess sent him a smile that could pass as sympathetic. "Watch where you're going," the remark had some bite to it, but there was no malice as she held out a fair skinned hand to help him up.
Carlos carefully placed his own gloved hand in hers, uncovered fingers curling around her palm for purchase as she tugged him to unsteady feet. "Sorry." Carlos murmured, looking away.
"It's fine, my name's Evie." She introduced, and Carlos was surprised at how kind she was acting. She had to want something from him. He hadn't seen her at Dragon Hall so he assumed she wouldn't demand he do her homework but for all he knew she could go to Serpent Prep.
"Carlos." He responded suspiciously, he didn't dare trust her. Trust was torn apart and stomped on on the Isle, there was no trust unless you were in a crew or gang and even then it could be iffy.
She sent him a smile that revealed shrinking fangs and the glow in her eyes faded away to show beautiful amber orbs, he knew she was a vampire but seeing the fangs was something entirely different. Her smile dropped when she saw a bruise forming on his neck, but instead of asking about it aloud and appearing like she cared she grabbed Carlos' wrist and pulled him along after her.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Carlos squeaked in shock, he had been ready to part ways but instead Evie now had a death grip on his wrist and was taking him off into unknown territory.
Evie didn't respond which only seemed to make Carlos more nervous, but he wouldn't pry himself from the vampire's grip. His own strength would be too revealing, and at his age he was already starting to struggle containing the change but mother told him if anyone found out it would be his own pelt she'd be wearing next.
So rather than fighting Carlos just allowed her to lead him to her preferred destination while he took in the passing surroundings. Some would spare them a glance but otherwise ignore them while others would send Carlos a feral smile showing they firmly believed the De Vil would be Evie's next meal. Carlos shuddered and averted his gaze.
A few more minutes of tugging and soft protests Evie lead him up a guarded fire escape covered in wire fences; no one was getting in unless she wanted them too. Carlos was lost in the mechanics of the rising door, figuring it out within seconds and spotting errors that could send her whole hideout crumbling. He didn't have time to tell her before she was dragging him up the stairs.
The stairs lead to a huge loft, covered in paintings and stolen items and loose fabric. There was a worn down couch and matching ripped pillows and three customized beds. One was covered in purple blankets of all shades with dark green pillows to complete the poisonous look, painted skillfully with spray above it across half the wall was a girl who looked eerily familiar but Carlos didn't get out enough to truly give the face a name. Next to that bed was one just like it in structure but with dark blue blankets strewn about in a fashionable manor with red accents that matched the pillows hand-stitched on carefully, a portrait of Evie taking up the half of the wall above the head board. Across the room there was a lone bed with the portrait of a guy with long hair instead, his bed was surrounded by shiny stolen goods and his blankets were colored with different shades of yellow and orange and the pillows were colored a dusty purple.
Carlos observed his surroundings in awe, this had to be the most put-together place on the Isle. It wasn't a rotting disaster, rather a homey environment that was filled with a protective energy that made Carlos a little nervous. He was so lost in what felt like a new world that he didn't notice when the two others from the paintings appeared in a doorway he hadn't seen.
"Who is that?" The purple-haired girl hissed, glaring daggers at Carlos as her eyes flared a threatening acid green that illuminated the soft features of her face.
Evie sent the terrifying girl a preppy smile, "This is Carlos." She introduced the young De Vil, using the grip she had on his wrist to make him wave his hand.
"Carlos," The purple-haired child drawled, as if trying the sound of the name on her tongue. She hummed curiously stepping down the few stairs and approaching the two with a powerful stride, the long-haired boy right on her heels with a threatening scowl of his own set on his face. "And who, may I ask, are your parents?" It wasn't a real question, oh no, it was a demand.
Carlos shrunk back, getting as far from the purple-haired mistress as possible, "Cruella." He answered softly, his eyes keeping contact with her's despite how much he wanted to look away. He knew deep down she would strike if his eyes trailed down to the floor.
"Mal," Evie warned, finally revealing the purple-haired girl's name, but Mal wasn't listening. Instead she scoffed and her pupils grew reptilian, turning to slits.
"Cruella has no offspring," Mal growled, and Carlos felt confusion in his mind. Had his mother kept him a secret? That couldn't be possible, the Gaston twins knew who his mother was.
Mal must've seen his bewilderment, because her eyes returned to their more human shape and flickered back to their normal dull jade. "Cruella has been hiding a son." A wicked smile crossed her features and she turned back to the long-haired boy. "Mother will love this."
"Mother?" Carlos muttered questioningly before he could stop himself. He was naturally curious, and his mind was already scrolling through possible parental matches for Mal until he settled on one that he knew was the answer and his already light complexion paled considerably. "Maleficent is your mother?"
This time it appeared it was Mal, Evie and what's-his-name's who were confused. They looked at him for a moment, trying to figure something out within their own minds while Carlos wondered what it was he said that upset them.
"Did you not know that?" The long-haired boy asked and Carlos immediately shook his head in response. He'd seen all of them around town once or twice, it's how he had known all of the possessions on the other boy's bed had been stolen, but he had never learned the names of anyone. He went to the market and returned home to do chores, at the moment he was even castle-schooled. "How did you not know that?" Once again it wasn't a question but a demand.
"Mother doesn't want me outside, too many people. To big a chance I'll run away." He responded quietly, subtly tucking himself behind Evie. They wouldn't strike one of their own...would they?
Mal scowled and Evie took a step in front of him, Carlos refused to believe it was because she saw he was scared. This was the Isle and he wasn't part of her gang, she wouldn't care.
For a long moment Mal scanned him up and down, sizing him up and trying to find good qualities in him. Carlos didn't understand why but he didn't dare object. "What can you do?" She asked finally, this time it was a question. He didn't have to respond.
He kept his mouth shut for a long while, but as the minutes ticked by the three waited for an answer. "I'm..I'm good with tech." He informed them, finally breaking eye contact with Mal now that he knew she wouldn't pounce with Evie in front of him. "Your door, it needs a tune up. It's breaking down and you need more parts to complete the system." He said referring the the lifting gate that lead to the fire escape entrance.
The long-haired boy crossed him arms, and Carlos noticed fearfully how the muscles in his biceps flexed. Evie sent him a glare, which of course in the end didn't fix anything.
"How old are you?" The question was expected, he looked a few years younger than he should. Carlos had honestly been waiting for the inquiry.
"Eight." The answer was as easy at it got on the Isle. Mal's expression turned to one of focus as she muttered that he was two years younger than the rest of them. Carlos cataloged the information subconsciously.
Mal nodded in acceptance before she asked a question that had his stomach churning and his heart racing. "So what are you?" He wasn't allowed to say, it was one of the real reasons Cruella had him at home constantly. She would only care her servant was gone if he ran away, but if anyone found out about her late night events... she'd kill him.
"Nothing," The answer was too quick, too panicked. He could see none of them believed him for even a second.
Mal eye's flashed that terrifying poisonous harlequin green again and this time Evie's own chocolatey orbs turned a rich scarlet. Mal turned to the long-haired boy and finally gave Carlos a name to label the features with; "Jay."
Jay stalked forward and when Carlos tried to pull back Evie's grip on his wrist tightened painfully, keeping him in place. The De Vil looked up with dark fearful eyes as Jay's coffee colored irised morphed into the color of fire, his pupils shrinking to slits and as he opened his mouth a thin forked tongue slipped out.
Fear bubbled up in Carlos' chest and the iron grip his mother had on his mind felt like nothing compared to the danger Carlos' instincts screamed at him was approaching. Mal's glare was deadly, Evie's sneer though beautiful was threatening and Jay's- lord Jay's- stare made him feel as if his body had burst into flames. Without thinking Carlos' own irises filled with liquid light, turning to a bright stark, luminescent white. His canines grew sharper, showing off a set of fatal fangs as his lips pulled back in a low, chest-rumbling snarl that resonated in the room.
In an instant the other's features returned to human, leaving Carlos the only one showing his supernatural heritage.
Mal couldn't help the harsh laugh that left her throat, "Cruella has a mutt." She pointed out the irony, gaining cruel smirks from the others at well. They were all unaware of the panic settling deep in Carlos' bones. He had been so good at keeping it hidden, he had even hidden the sudden change in his eye color from the Gastons earlier that day. What had he done now?
Evie turned to look at Carlos and her smile faded instantly when she saw Carlos' breath coming in quick pants, fangs glinting in the stormy white light streaming in the cracked windows. She tilted her head in barely contained concern, "Carlos?" her soft voice had gotten the attention of her friends but Carlos was too deep into the rabbit hole of his mind to hear any of them now.
What was he supposed to tell his mother? Was he supposed to hide it until Mal told her mother about him and Maleficent showed up at Hell Hall to inform Cruella she knew all about her hidden runt? The uncertainty only sent him spiraling further down into his growing anxieties, that is until his body jerked back and forth and his blurred vision cleared to show Evie shaking him. Her lips painted red as blood were moving slowly but he couldn't read them, all he saw was unintelligible vowels until muffled noise broke through the barrier his ears had seemed to put up all on their own.
"Carlos?" It was so quiet, it sounded like he was underwater. "Focus on my voice and tell me what's wrong?" Carlos honestly couldn't tell if she was trying to use compulsion or not, but she had just about as much practice with her powers as he did with his own so either way nothing worked. "Carlos!" Her scream had shattered him from his stupor and he gasped as his mind was yanked back into the present.
He trembled as Mal and Jay's voices joined the onslaught of noise on his ears, asking what the hell was wrong with him. "What am I going to tell mother?" It was more him speaking his thoughts aloud then an answer, but either way they knew what had him stumbling out of control.
"Nothing, no one is gonna tell anyone anything." Mal said sternly, sending a withering look to both Evie and Jay as they nodded. She turned back to Carlos and placed a hand in his fluffy white hair making him jump, "Welcome to the crew." He eyes were flecked with bits of that powerful green, but Carlos saw that this time it wasn't threatening but instead protective. Now he was part of the crew, and he knew he had nothing to worry about.