#devillain

𝐌𝐘  𝐀𝐑𝐓:  red  boys .

Happy  New  Years  Bas!  I  had  so  many  different  ideas  for  Carlos,  Arthur  and  Charlie  and  so  little  time  to  draw  them.  I  did  something  for  Art  but  wasn’t  100%  happy  with  it,  so  here’s  a  little  bit  of  fanart  for  Harry  and  Carlos  instead!  I  can’t  tell  you  what  kind  of  formal  event  these  two  ended  up  getting  dragged  to  but  Carlos  came  out  so  cool  in  his  shirt  and  vest  and  I’m  especially  proud  of  his  hair  ( which  Harry  is  totally  not  trying  to  grab ).  I  love  the  edge  that  you  give  Carlos  in  your  writing,  he’s  so  well  developed  and  I  love  seeing  how  his  past  and  history  still  sends  ripples  through  his  interactions  in  present.

@devillain        |        @tiderider​

There weren’t supposed to be any kids up here. Barry was across from a lazy suburban area, about to set up for one of his hits, his (subtle, duffel-looking) sniper bag slung over his shoulder. 

“What’re you doing up here?” He’s somewhere between accusing and genuinely curious. It was still daylight, but this was, like...the woods. Kids should be playing in parks. Not in the woods. 

Even though Barry grew up playing in the woods... Still. 

Nostalgia definitely was a trap. Jay would never disagree with that one. Which is why he tended to not be a very nostalgic person. After all, what did he have to be nostalgic about, exactly? The hell that had been life on the Isle? The abuse from his father? It wasn’t like there were many positive things in his past to begin with. There was definitely nothing that he actively wanted to dwell on, anyway.

“What’s wrong, C?” Jay asks, arching a brow at the other. “Are you feeling nostalgic over something?”

          The barrier had fallen and freedom had tasted a lot like blood and fire as Auradon’s nightmares were unleashed. Harry hadn’t cared. He had his Captain, and his crew. He had the horizon and the sea, and the freedom to make their enemies quake wherever they went. Let the Boradon know fear and hunger and violence, it was about time they remembered the taste, but the triumph didn’t last as long as Harry had hoped it would. Faces were missing. Crewmates, siblings, allies. Some stolen away by oppressive parents, others abandoned, marooned, spirited away. Carlos had been one of them and as Harry approached the curled up lump in the corner of the place at the end of his long search, he knew it had taken too long to find him.

Harry was still when Carlos moved like a ghoul. He looked starved, worse than he had ever looked on the Isle, nails cracked and chipped to sharp edges, caked in dirt. Carlos grabbed hold of him and when he spoke, his words made him sick. It seemed to be an unspoken rule among those raised on the Isle, that unless explicit permission was given, parents were off limits. Carlos had clung to that unspoken rule for years. Carlos was the sole reason Harry hadn’t already gone after the old hag for the stocks but this — this deserved an answer.

Harry reached out as Carlos let go of his arm, fingers brushing over the clasp of the collar around his neck with a disturbing calm. “You think you could stop me?” Harry asked in a voice that didn’t quite match the rage trapped like twin red pin pricks within pale blue eyes.

“I can fix this. Why won’t you let me fix it?” It would be easy, he would not feel guilt or remorse, he had no attachment to Cruella, no question of what she could have been once or before. If Carlos couldn’t do it, Harry was more than willing.

—  @devillain​​  gets  a  descvdayball  starter .

          it had been weeks since the last of the riots fires had died. dr. facilier had transformed the arcade into a temporary medical station for the injured, dying and dead, and while noelani had kept them updated on any victims that they knew, uma and the crew had picked through the destruction in search for their missing. they had found some hurt but alive, others they had returned to the sea but there was still one name left on their list they were yet to uncover. carlos de vil had been missing since coronation night. weeks had past, a ceasefire had already been negotiated while the isle was rebuilt and still there was no sign of him.

harry prowled the streets, hunting down any that he thought may have held some semblance of a grudge against the son of cruella, and some he knew didn’t simply because he was out of leads. he put the word out among the beggars to watch for any sign of him and after six false sightings harry was ready to hook the next scumbag that tried to make a fool out of him. he was so on edge, aggravated and frustrated that when he saw the familiar black and white leathers he had almost convinced himself that he was seeing things.

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘  𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 ↳↳  sent  from  :    @devillain

He  finds  a  box  wrapped  in  news  print.  In  the  box  he  will  find  what  looks  to  be  just  wires.  There  are  two  notes,  one  is  a  set  of  instructions,  the  other  is  from  Carlos.  "Harry,  hope  you  enjoy  this  lock  pick  set  I  designed  for  your  hook,  it  wont  get  destroyed  if  you  use  it  while  on  your  hook  as  well.  If  you  need  help  attaching  it,  you  know  people  who  to  ask  if  you  can't  understand  the  instructions  ;)  -C"

whether  intentional  or  not,  a  box  wrapped  in  news  print  has  all  the  touches  of  an  isle  born  and  harry  wastes  little  time  in  ripping  into  the  paper  to  expose  what  lies  within.  for  a  moment  harry  only  frowns  at  what  he  finds,  picking  through  the  wires  and  grabbing  the  two  notes  expecting  it  to  be  some  kind  of  prank  until  he  recognizes  carlos'  familiar  scrawl  and  initial  signature.

          harry  takes  his  time  with  carlos'  notes,  first  the  one  titled  with  his  name  explaining  exactly  what  invention  carlos  had  taken  the  time  to  craft  for  him.  lockpicks  for  his  hook.  for  his  hook.  it  took  him  a  little  longer  to  read  both  notes  after  that,  too  excited  to  absorb  the  characters  properly  and  even  after  that,  while  picking  through  the  instructions  for  how  to  assemble  the  lockpicks,  harry  still  wasn't  entirely  sure  what  he  was  doing.

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓-𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ↳↳  not accepting  ( @devillain​​ )

❛ you  promised.  you  fucking  promised. ❜

𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫  𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬.  poor,  fucked  up,  brainwashed,  carlos.  always  the  first  to  face  the  ire  of  his  mad  mother,  and  always  the  first  to  defend  her  within  the  same  breath.  harry  considered  himself  fortunate  to  have  seen  his  parents  for  what  they  really  were  when  he  did,  lucky  to  discard  himself  of  the  blind  loyalty  and  the  misguided  certainty  that  he  could  earn  their  love  if  he  just  worked  hard  enough  for  it.  he  could  never  be  sure  if  carlos  was  still  stuck  there,  thinking  that  he  could  make  cruella  feel  something  she  never  would.