Hiya Descendants!

We're back with another update.

Mondays, am I right?

So after that chapter with Maleficent, were you wondering what T was getting himself into?

Wonder no more.

Don't forget to let us know what you think at the end. We can't wait to hear from you.

Lots of Love,

-Dark-

Fuck him.

He frowns as he guides one of the scumbags up the makeshift stairs, after the two goblin's leading their own.

Yet another public execution.

He tries not to look at the ridiculously large crowd all murmuring anxiously waiting to see what the summons had been about.

His mouth was too dry to even swallow at this point.

He takes a deep breath.

Fuck.

He was-

This was so fucking dumb.

He clenches his jaw.

No. Just no.

He didn't shake.

Didn't tremble.

So why the fuck were his hands betraying him? His legs?

He could feel everyone's eyes on him. Everyones' piercing eyes. As if his layers and hood didn't exist. Like they were just watching him.

Waiting.

Curious as to what he was doing.

He could feel the lump building in his throat.

Was he going to be able to fight with this many eyes on him?

He bites back a hysterical laugh.

Fuck-

Was he even going to be able to hold his sword? His dagger?

He chews his lip. He fucking hated this, but like hell was he just going to slaughter these disgusting fucks in cold blood when fuck only knew how many other VK's were watching.

He didn't need the urchins scared of him… Assuming they knew who he was. Which he assumed they did, or at least some of them would.

Beam for sure would.

The 'not' leader of the urchins didn't have the luxury of ignoring obvious things.

He swallows hard, wishing he'd taken a swig of something, anything before he'd led the chained man into the public eye.

He kicks out the legs of the man in front of him, side eying Maleficent before he glances out to the crowd. He nearly pisses himself at the number of people crowding the street.

Blurry faces easily stretched six buildings back.

His vision blurs slightly as dizziness washes over him. His lungs burn in his tightening chest.

He'd never wanted to bolt so badly in his life.

Was any deal really worth this?

Killing people in private had been one thing. Killing in front of thirty people had been uncomfortable, but he hadn't had a choice if he wanted to prevent further attacks on innocent urchins.

But to do it with an entire crowd?

A crowd that looked to be well over a hundred people.

Two hundred?

A shiver runs down his spine. He was in over his head and drowning.

He should've brought Harry. Or Uma. Or anyone that would fit in this damned fucking hoodie.

He was going to be sick.

Could they tell? Could Maleficent smell it like her daughter could? Could the piece of shit he was holding feel the way his hand shook? Feel the tension in his grip.

He scans the crowd, looking desperately for something, anything to anchor him.

He sighs when his eyes land on the god and his two imps standing in the shadows the people in the crowd creating a wide berth for him.

Pain and Panic were fluttering well above their master and the heads of the rest of the crowd as they made weird in and out gestures with their hands.

His eyes narrow on Hades, who was clearly amused.

The god grins and gives him a thumbs-up before he opens his mouth, gesturing with his hands to show he was sucking in air. The crowd pushes into each other as he dramatically exhales.

He blinks in confusion before his eyes widen. Fucking damn it. He takes a deep, shaky breath in before his nose twitches at the smell of piss. He orders his stomach to stay in place as the scent nearly overwhelms him.

He looks down to realize he was standing in a puddle of it.

He so didn't- Did he?

He swallows as he takes the quickest self-inventory of his life before he lets out a deep sigh of relief.

Oh my fucking god thank you! He blinks back tears.

It wasn't his.

When he looks back up he finds Senior bent over in amusement.

His booming laughter carries across the crowd, nearly stunning it to silence as it draws the attention of everyone gathered.

The berth around the god grows larger as people press against one another to get away from him, clearly concerned the god had finally cracked.

He nearly chokes on the bile rising in the back of his throat before he forces himself to swallow it.

He glances at Maleficent, doing his best not to shift.

To not grab his arm.

To not run.

Just look at her. The mistress of Evil.

As if that would somehow make this any better.

If he wasn't so not terrified, he would have been shocked by her head nod.

As if she'd only been waiting for him to acknowledge her.

"People of the isle. You have been summoned to witness the execution of these three cretins." The mistress of evil curls her lip, "I have very few rules for you to follow, but one of them is that the trading of youths, the solicitation of youths, the taking pleasure in a youth's body is unforgivably restricted. So then, Spider, commence with the punishment. The sentence for the indisputable proof is death." She claps her hands together before she steps back.

If-

God forbid-

If his family was here watching there was no fucking way in hell was he killing these fucks his way.

He tries to whistle once. Twice.

Maleficent shoots him an incredulous look before she whistles for him.

Another booming laugh silences the crowd.

He quietly sighs in relief when Bak and Ursh rush up the stairs with three blades, throwing them down in a pile in front of the pedophiles.

He nods at the two goblins before they all slice through the binds of the men they'd escorted.

The men look around, bewildered for the briefest of moments before they scramble to their feet and fight for a blade.

All three turn to rush him as his world narrows.

He could do this. Between his training with Jay, Harry, Uma, Mal, and Gil he knew he could. As long as he didn't glance at the crowd. He could do this.

He dodges. Parries. Swings.

Make it painful she said.

Give the crowd a reason to fear being on the receiving end of your punishment, of my wrath.

That's what Maleficent ordered.

Make it entertaining. That's what Senior expected.

Protect the kids both in it, and potential victims of it. That's what he and Faustina wanted.

For Deez. For Gil. For Uma and Harry. For their safety. So they didn't have to.

Blood splatters across his face as the first one falls with a slice to the throat, as he kicks the body at the second. He nearly spins in the slick blood as he defends himself from the third.

It takes a moment, but he manages to disarm the man kneeing him in the gut before his daggers come down in his back before he rips them up. The scream that's pulled from the man silencing the crowd, as he pulls them out to deflect the last man's blade.

The memory of Harry's lifeless body flashes through his eyes as his heart slams into his chest and he lets out a low growl.

The thought of any of the young urchins he'd befriended suffering what he'd lived through fuels his swings.

Faustina's screams from Frollo's tortured make his vision go red as he slashes with a ferocity he'd never experienced.

The screams of pain and fear as he desperately tries to defend himself falling on deaf ears. The crowd silent as he cuts and slices the man till both of them are covered in blood. When the man finally falls he pulls back his dagger and ends it with a final slice severing the plea for mercy.

He kicks the man to his back breath heaving. Vision still rimmed with red hot rage as he turns to nod at Maleficent before he walks to lean against the wall of bargain castle. He crosses his arms and tilts his head down to stare at the filth at his feet before he closes his eyes and tries to take several deep breaths.

His hands still clenched around his daggers.

The silence was nearly deafening.

But when Maleficent clears her throat he looks up.

"Listen well, all of you!" Maleficent steps forward, daintily and pointedly avoiding the mess of bodies and blood on the floor as she holds her arms up, demanding the attention of everyone assembled, "This is the fate that will befall any who dares to question my laws. My governance of this isle."

She kicks a limp arm, "Perhaps you believed that I was not in control, that I no longer had eyes and ears all over the isle. That I could not control the rabble of this trash-filled isle."

He takes another deep breath as the tension slowly dissipates and slides his daggers back into his pockets.

Her eyes harden, "Or, perhaps you thought the loss of my minion and her crew had weakened my standing." She snorts as she stares around the gathering as if making uncomfortable eye contact with each and every person. Judging by the flinches, she was.

"Did you believe me to be weakened? At the whim of the so called King of Auradon?" She laughs, the sound hollow as it echoed around in the eerie silence.

"If you did, you thought very wrong. And those thoughts may very well end up costing you everything if my little spider here finds out." She turns back to look at him.

He tilts his head in acknowledgment as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Yes, my Spider. My blood." She gestures to him, "He is loyal to none but me, and will kill you as soon as trouble with looking at you. While his sister is in Auradon, carrying out a mission, he is in charge of handing out punishment."

He blinks, his head whipping to her so quickly his neck pops. Wait. What the fuck did she just say? Did she just- No. He must've heard her wrong. She didn't just claim him as her fucking son. His eye twitches as he focuses on her intently.

Mal was going to come back to the isle just to slaughter him. And right now, he'd let her.

His mouth opens to dispute her but only a small, nearly inaudible squeak leaves him when he sees the crowd in front of her as he grows dizzy all over again.

He crosses his arms as he tilts his head, further covering his features, to look at the mess of bodies and blood coating the stage. He closes his eyes as he clamps onto either arm with a bruising grip as heat washes over his face thoroughly embarrassed.

"I will hear of your indiscretions, and I will judge whether my Spider will show up to dole out punishment. Any who fight him will be sentenced to death, to be carried out by him, and whatever gang he chooses to form in his sister's absence. Listen well, fools who wish to defy me. You will be dealt with." Her eyes narrow as she falls silent and stares across the gathered crowd.

"Now, leave." She turns her back on the crowd and snaps her fingers.

No one needs to be told twice as the crowd scrambles over each other, everyone desperate to get as much distance between them and the Mistress of Evil as they possibly can.

Her and her reclaimed son, if the tenor of hushed whispers were to be believed.

But he couldn't care less about that, doesn't think twice about it as he slips away in the panic, feeling sick to his stomach.

Yep. He was going to be-

"What an impressive power play, Herbie, or do you prefer Spider now?"

He freezes as he straightens his back and turns slowly at the familiar tone. His eyes sweep over the other boy with a frown.

Fuck. He grimaces.

He fucking knew people would know it was him.

Damn it.

He struggles to swallow down the bile.

Well, at least his mouth wasn't dry now. He forces down the sour taste out of pure will power.

He'd be paying for that later if the way his stomach turned was any indication, but like fuck was he throwing up on-

"Atilla." He swallows the bitterness currently pooled in his mouth as he tilts his head before he looks around the empty street. At least there was that.

Thank. Fucking. God.

He wasn't sure he could go much longer under scrutiny without running like a fucking pussy.

He takes a deep breath before he, to the best of his ability, casually leans against the stone wall, careful to keep his eyes on the other boy.

"Surprised?" Atilla chuckles, the laughter on his lips not reaching his eyes.

"Not particularly." He admits with a frown, surprised that he meant it. Of course Atilla would have come in his father's stead to the stupid event. Cause, you know, why the fuck not?

"But is it because you don't understand how I knew it was you, or do you simply not care?" He tilts his chiseled face to the side, as if lost in thought at his own question.

"Fascinating yourself with your own queries?"

Atilla chuckles lowly, "But of course, who else is around who can match my level on, well, anything?"

"Self-absorbed much?" He quirks his brow. He was so fucking drained. "Then again, I guess someone needs to praise you..." That doesn't stop him from dropping his hands into his pockets to grip his daggers.

"Speaking of absorbed though-" He flashes a toothy smile, "Rumors said you were taken to Auradon with the rest of Mal's gang. You and a certain other-worldly beauty."

His eyes narrow. Fuck him. "Like I'd be caught dead in Auradon."

"Aw, did Mom not trust you enough to go with little sister Mal?" He sneers, "Or perhaps you are the little in the family."

He can't help the way his eye twitches at the slight. "Suck my dick."

"There's the vulgarity you're known for." Atilla laughs, though he never takes his eye off him, "Still, if the rumors claimed you to be among those taken, yet here you are, one can only surmise that my beautiful dance partner might also still be around, lurking in shadows."

T snarls as he steps forward daggers out, "She fuckin' better not be hiding here." He snaps, "And if she is, know this cunt- I fucking dare you to touch her. She's fucking mine."

"Oh, is this your official announcement?" He tilts his head as he gestures with an open hand, "The Spider putting a claim to the Isle's only Demi-Goddess? And since you claim her, but you pretend to not know if she's here…" His voice trails off.

"The fuck." T scoffs, "If you have her I'll fuckin' kill you." He steps up to his face.

"I see." Atilla chuckles, "So now it becomes a game. I do so enjoy those. Especially with such a lovely prize on the line."

He growls as he puts his blood-covered dagger to Atilla's throat. "Don't fuck with me, where the fuck is she."

"I thought you said she wasn't here." His lips curve into a small smile, "That your mother sent her with the rest of Mal's known gang to Auradon."

"Like that cunt tells me shit." He growls. "All I know is two things. They all disappeared at the same time." He digs his blade in deeper. "And I'm not in the mood for this shit." He growls. "So if you want a fuckin' fight bring it." He scowls when Atilla doesn't even flinch.

"I was engaging in semi-polite conversation, asking after the health and safety of a certain interest of mine, but I've learned all I care to from this conversation."

"You want polite, talk to my fuckin' sister when she gets her ass back here." He snarls as he nicks his throat.

"Hmm, interesting." Atilla smiles before he steps back, "Any conversation with you is always full of surprises, until next time then."

"Yeah, that's what I thought you fuckin' pussy. Daddy must be real fuckin' proud. See you in the compound."

Atilla laughs as he turns back and taps a finger to his nose. With another chuckle he turns and continues to walk away, waving one hand over his shoulder in almost an afterthought.

Oooh, bitch stole his fucking moves.

He watches the other boy's back with narrowed eyes, waiting until he is out of sight before he lets out a breath and falls on his ass.

Damn it. He was so fucking tired. His head hits the stone with a thud before he lets it fall forward, forcing him to look down at his shaking hand.

He hadn't even flinched. His eyes hadn't widened. They'd just stayed hard and as calculating as ever. And per usual he felt like the other boy walked away with knowing much more than what he was left with. Fucking wonderful.

Annoying twat.

Fuck. He wipes at his burning eyes. This whole damn day had been a lot more draining than he thought it was going to be.

He was exhausted. He drags his feet despite his best efforts.

His boots squelch horribly with every step.

He could feel the ripped hem of his pants dragging behind him.

He doesn't even bother muffling his groan. He was going to have to raid the hold for a new pair.

For a new everything. He'd never felt so disgusting in all his life. He could feel the dried blood on his skin, rubbing and flaking off with every movement he made. And how the fuck were his shoes still soaked anyway?

Ugh.

Was it the blood? Or his vomit?

Or the man's piss?

Ugh.

He'd already ditched his hoodie, quickly finding a new one so he wouldn't freeze.

After they took care of Stromboli and the Coachman he was going to burn everything he'd worn and wash his hands of the whole affair.

He was so not looking forward to the conversation, if one could even call it that, he was going to have with Uma. Or the one he was sure would come from Harry.

He looks behind his shoulder at a faint noise. His eyes narrowing into the darkness as they sweep the docks before the hiss of an angry cat alleviates his fears before he catches the brownish-red trail he was leaving in his wake.

FUCK.

He groans as he backtracks.

He couldn't lead tracks to the ship. He looks up, trying to figure out how far away home was.

His heart stops in his chest.

Where the fuck was the mast? The sails? The flag claiming it as the Kraken's domain?

He swallows hard as a spike of fear floods him.

Oh no.

Fuck no.

He nearly slips in his own tracks as he runs up to the nearest crate and vaults to the top of it.

His heart freezes.

Nothing.

He quickly scans the horizon, only to find nothing but the edge of the barrier.

No.

Nonononono.

He'd heard Uma say it so many times.

They weren't setting sail unless an emergency-

Was this his fucking fault?!

Had someone figured it out and come looking for their pound of flesh?

How!?

He'd been so careful. He cringes as he looks down at the blood trail. Okay, he had been so careful not to let anyone know the spider was also a rat.

What the fuck had happened? His heart jumps to his throat. What had he done? Was everyone okay? Fuck!

Before he knows it he's running across the crate, vaulting and rolling until he hits the end of them before he takes off like the old bat out of hell hall.

Adrenaline pumps through his veins, driving away the blackness of his earlier exhaustion.

The cove.

They had to be at the cove.

They better be at the cove.

They better be alright. All of them. Uma. Deez. Gil. Fuck Harry was already injured. Yensid. James.

Fuck he could care about the rest of the crew.

He runs.

Bounds.

Vaults.

Races.

He shoves people out of his way in his haste, not giving a fuck about staying to the shadows.

No fucks to give about his image.

No fucks about anything.

He couldn't care less.

His only thought was for his family.

Whispered prayers fall from his lips.

Just be okay.

Let them be safe.

He pleads and begs a god he wasn't even sure existed.

His feet slam against the pavement as he flies across the Isle.

Too long. This was taking too long.

Faster.

Move fucking faster.

Run harder.

Do better.

This has to be on you. You fucked up. Someone found out. Someone retaliated. This is your fucking fault.

MOVE!

Tears of fear whip from his face, falling unchecked as he scrambles around corners and slips on the pavement.

But he didn't care about the scrapes on his knees and palms, couldn't spare a single thought for anything but finding his family. His heart slams against his chest with every step.

Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!

What the fuck had he done?

Why was it everything he did always bite him in the ass so fucking hard?

He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he lost one of them because he'd taken it upon himself. Had taken matters into his own hands. He hadn't thought it would come back to them. Not once had he even considered it. Selfish! So fucking selfish. He was a fucking selfish ass hole.

The images of their broken beaten bodies lying around the ship with an inconsolable Deez crying over them kept running through his mind.

Tormenting him.

Oh god!

Fucking god!

Jesus fucking christ!

His blood turns to ice as his heart freezes in his chest nearly paralyzing him.

Had that been what the noise was when he woke up? Had something been wrong? Fuck.

He'd been slightly annoyed!

Fuck, had something been wrong?

Had he left them to die?

No! Please fucking god no! Anything, anything but that!

Don't Think! Just Move!

Faster.

His feet slam into the pavement.

Atilla's smug face flashes through his head- Had he?

Fuck!

Don't think just fucking run!

*Clears Throat* Ahem,

So, like that was…

Yeah.

I know, I know, another T-centric chapter.

But yeah, that was a fucking lot, wasn't it?

T was about two breaths short of passing out on that stage. Probably would'ah if it weren't for the God and his two imps.

Intense right?

(Except for the part T legit thought he'd pissed himself...That was just- Gold really...)

Speakin' of are you as worried about the family as T?

Love to hear your thoughts,

Much love and appreciation,

Twisted